14

Book 2: Chapter 3

*** Tyrion- King's Landing***

"And of course there is the matter of House Allen encroaching on House Roban's territory Your Grace!"

There was a brush of muttering as the assembled people in the throne room whispered to one another. Seated on the Iron Throne itself was the ever "graceful", King Robert Baratheon -first of his name- and looking completely bored with the two current petitioners.

Tyrion could only sigh as he turned back once more to the parchment detailing the financial situation that his predecessor, Petyr Baelish, had left for him, which had turned out to be a financial boon the likes of which he couldn't even begin to describe. He had initially been daunted but happy that his little Princess, Mordred, had lobbied for his appointment to this post. How Petyr had met his unfortunate end was something that had surprised everyone. It even made him wary of frequenting the local brothels for fear of reprisal.

"Well Ned? You're my Hand, stick your hand in it," King Robert declared in a bored tone as he turned to the Seven Kindoms' newest Hand, Eddard Stark of Winterfell. The Warden of the North had thus far had done an admirable job, and between him, Byrden Tully the Blackfish, and even Tyrion's own recent contributions, the realm was actually starting to look like it was – dare he even think it – getting back on track.

The solemn looking man from the North merely looked at the petitioning noble before he decided on a solution.

"House Allen, you will-"

Tyrion ignored whatever orders the Lord of Winterfell was giving the petitioner's in the form of an offer as he silently crunched the numbers from Petyr's records. As impossible as it seemed, it appeared that the realm was somehow debt-free or rather, it soon would be. Yes, Robert had spent an exorbitant amount of money on tournaments and games, but aside from times of war, there had always been enough money in the treasury to fund a king's frivolities. No, the real reason that so the capitol's coffers had been empty for most of Robert's reign was because Littlefinger, in the Crown's name, had invested in many different types of certain merchants and goods over the years. But if he had put these investments under his name while using the Crown's money, it would have put him under scrutiny to say the very least, but every time Robert threw a tournament, he would use that opportunity to inflate the cost and siphon the gold from the royal treasury away. Really, five thousand gold dragons just to hire a jester troupe? Ridiculous.

Unfortunately, Lord Baelish did not foresee his own death coming as the investments were being returned to the Crown in piecemeal at triple what it was worth. The small amounts, a few hundred dragons here, a thousand there, were paid to the Master of the Coin's office with most of it being written off as expense for the upkeep of the Kingdoms. At first, Tyrion didn't think anything of it but the return investments had not stopped coming in the past six months since he took up office. Eventually hundreds of gold dragons became thousands, thousands became tens of thousand, and tens of thousand became hundreds of thousands, and it still showed no signs of stopping. He had recently done a little more investigation into Littlefinger's holdings and found that almost every one of his private properties and personal expenses had been bought and paid for under the Crown's name to avoid taxes, and then if necessary, Littlefinger would exploit his position as Master of Coin to legally transfer any and all material possessions or properties to him. And since he was now dead, that was yet another couple of hundred thousand dragons worth of property; since he didn't have any living relatives, by law or blood, or a will to be found, all his possessions had now become the property of the Crown.

Most alarming of all, was that the records showed that the return investments wouldn't stop coming for at least another two and a half years from now. This, combined with the taxes they had been collecting and, in two years time, they would be in the clear! Tyrion had considered bringing this matter up with the Small Council after the King finished with Court, but he was smart enough to realize that by playing this right and not advertising their boon, he would be seen as the savior of the realm.

Tyrion smirked, he really did have to thank his little Princess for her generosity. Of course, he was always thankful to her, she was the first of Cersei's children who never viewed him as anything but a man, and her beloved uncle. Though he was embarrassed to admit it even to himself, that he remembered a time when she was his height and had forced him to be her playmate. However, seeing that little prick Joffrey play damsel in distress, dress and all, while Mordred played the hero had all been more than worth it.

"Something amusing to you, Imp?" Brynden Tully, the new Master of Whispers, asked from his seat next to Tyrion.

"Just recalling fond memories of a certain little princess," Tyrion shrugged and looked over to the rest of the royal family and had to suppress a smirk. Cersei finally looked like a Queen again. When they had gotten back from Riverrun, she was as listless as a widow with Jaime gone. In truth he missed his brother too, but he also knew of the two's incestuous relationship. He could only silently raise a toast to his niece for finally separating them.

"Ah... Mordred," Brynden frowned before looking a bit displeased. "I cannot believe she allowed for Harrenhal's... deconstruction."

Hearing about what was happening to the massive castle, Tyrion also put on a matching frown. Harrenhal was an ancient symbol of power, and the lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms were all about power, and showing it off. The Tullys were extremely proud of the fact that such a legendary landmark fell under their jurisdiction. Now, it was being taken apart to build roads for the smallfolk and Mordred had approved it. Then, there were rumors of the new Lord Pendragon coveting a mistress. When the Queen herself had sent a raven asking about the validity of this rumor, Mordred hadn't even bothered to dignify the question with a response.

"The girl had always done whatever she liked, I'm sure she had good reasons," Tyrion eventually replied, as he would never badmouth the girl. Lord Pendragon, however, was now on his list for even suggesting it. The man's use of the stones of Harrenhal made sense but such frugality from a lord was frowned upon. He had the money to buy new stones but had chosen not to, which had resulted in many nobles already starting to curse the newly established House of Pendragon, and not all of this was taking place behind closed doors. A house that his dear niece was now a part of. Tyrion owed Arthur for that, and everyone knew a Lannister always paid his debts.

"Hrmmph," Bryden grunted, still displeased before he looked back to the two bickering nobles. "It looks like neither side are happy with Ned's solution."

"Then everyone wins," Tyrion smirked as he too looked at the pair of dissatisfied noble. Their dissatisfaction was understandable though, as Lord Stark had taken neither side over the other, and in fact had all but outright commanded the two houses to cease their hostilities with one another and make peace. "So tell me, you and Lord Stark have been conferring with Lord Stannis and Renly a fair bit recently. What is that all about?"

Brynden's face, which had been relaxed and thus easy to read, suddenly was schooled into a stoic expression. Tyrion had only been trying to divert his attention from Mordred but apparently had stumbled across something. If the three old men (and Renly) wanted to talk to themselves about their glory days then Tyrion could care less, but by the way the Blackfish acted, he could tell that the Master of Whispers was hiding something.

"It is a small issue, one that you needn't worry about," the Blackfish answered with a shrug but his eyes flickered towards the royal family, narrowing as they observed a bored looking Joffrey squirm restlessly in his chair as he tapped his fingers impatiently. "Does the boy not realize he is to be ruler of the realm one day? He should sit up straighter. Look more dignified in front of all these lords and ladies."

Since saying goodbye to his older sister, Joffrey had been like his mother after she had lost Jaime, listless. Why, the Prince didn't even make any cruel jape toward Tyrion like he normally did every time they saw each other! Just how long could the little boy nurse a broken heart and not he realize he was being disrespectful to his new fiancé, the Tyrell girl?

"You'll have to forgive him, he misses his sister."

"Bah, sisters grow up, get married, and go off to live with their new husband all the time." Brynden scoffed before looking at Tommen and Myrcella. "He should focus more on that pretty bride of his. Speaking of which, when's the wedding?"

Tyrion knew the Blackfish was trying to divert his attention from his inquiry earlier, but decided to let the Blackfish go this time. Instead he turned his attention back to the matter he was now responsible for funding: Joffrey's wedding. Simply put, they did not have a lot of money after going through two wedding in the same year, one of which involving a member of royalty, and another involving a family so old and powerful they might as well be royalty. After holding one for Mordred and another for the Stark girl, the treasury had been forced to once more borrow from the Iron Bank of Braavos. Nobody dared quibble over the sum that needed to be borrowed, this was the Princess of the Realm that was being wed, and of course Lady Catelyn Stark had extracted an equal price for her daughter after the dishonour his foolish nephew had heaped upon House Stark.

Having met the woman once, Tyrion thought she was a docile noblewoman. He was wrong. After reviewing the sum that Lady Catelyn spent on her daughter's wedding, he found that it matched that of Mordred's down to the copper. No doubt it was a subtle declaration that her daughter's wedding was no less important than the Princess'.

"Well, looks like they're finally done, so now onto the next…" Brynden sighed as the two bickering nobles bowed to thank the King and left with matching looks of discontent appearing on their faces as soon as they turned their backs. "Another two hours of this torture before we're free..."

"The smallfolk and nobility alike do love to see their rulers, and us, in action," Tyrion replied while shifting once more in his chair to get comfortable. They had to attend court at least twice a week, to uphold the morale of the realm.

"Next!" the Baratheon guard at the door bellowed.

"Greetings, Your Grace," an old looking gentlemen, who wore clothes that showed he was from Storm's End, greeted the king.

Robert sighed and waved his hand. "Well, what do you have to complain about? Out with it!"

"Well Your Grace, it's abou-"

Anything he wanted to say was stop as a commotion made itself known at the entrance, making Tyrion turn to it and widen his eyes in surprise.

"By the Seven! Ser Barristan are you aware that there is a beached whale on the Iron Throne?"

Robert, who had been winking at a noble lady-in-waiting as soon as the petitioner had opened his mouth, suddenly turned his attention to the person that had insulted him, his face reddening in fury. However, just as suddenly as it came, it left as Robert saw who it was. The two younger royal children, who looked like they were going to fall asleep with their half lidded eyes, lit up in happiness as they noticed the visitor.

"Mordred!" Tommen and Myrcella threw decorum to the wind as they got off their seats and rushed toward their sister, who was dressed in lovely Pendragon blue. Behind the girl was several tough looking armoured women that were meaner looking than some of the goldcloaks present.

Tyrion watched as their elder sister easily took them into her arms and gave them deep affectionate hugs but her eyes immediately locked with that of her mother and she smirked, causing the Queen to bristle, though Cersei did look happy to see the girl in her own way.

Robert eyes softened before he took on a furious expression. "Ser Barristan! This girl dares to insult your king! What do you plan on doing about it?"

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguards looked helplessly between the King and the Princess but unfortunately Mordred was not done.

"How amazing! The whale talks- wait... I know that voice... FATHER?!" Mordred mocked surprised caused her two siblings to giggled but hid behind their older sister for protection. By this point the nobles around them looked completely scandalized by what was unfolding before them.

Tyrion could not help but smiled at the scene, the banter between Mordred and Robert had always been a treat to witness. To his own surprise the girl green eyes flicker over to him and gave him a wink before turning back to the King.

"You insolent whelp! You still remember me as you father?!" Robert roared, to anyone else it would sound as if he was angry but Tyrion saw the happiness in the King's eyes as he stood up from his throne and directed his full attention on the insolent girl who had barged into his court. "What are you doing here Mordred Kingbane? Tell your husband he's stuck with you and that I'm not taking you back."

Mordred face reddened briefly before she recomposed herself and pointed at the king. "Hah! You wish I'd come back, my departure made you fat and weak! I thought I told you to take care of yourself! What is with your gut? It's double the size of when I saw you last!"

Tyrion winced as Mordred continued on with her many creative ways to call her father fat, something King Robert was extremely sensitive to. Having had enough, the King got off the dais and walked with purpose over to the blonde girl.

"You mouthy little brat!"

"You worthless oaf!"

"Troublesome bitch!"

"Lazy drunkard!"

Finally as Robert stood in front of the smaller girl, he quickly scooped her up into a hug and showered her face with wet sloppy kisses taking the girl off guard making her and squirm in protest.

"Help! A pig is assaulting me! Brienne!" Mordred wailed much to Robert's delight before he set her down, ignoring her glares at him. A tall, blonde, comely woman handed the girl a cloth with the Pendragon symbol on it to wipe her face with.

"I missed you my little treacherous daughter," Robert said with great affection in his voice as he stood in front of the girl.

To Tyrion surprise, the girl eyes softened and she looked up at the man, smiling softly. "W-Well, I don't dislike kings like you..."

Robert smiled happily then looked around at all the people in the throne room watching a private family moment. "All of you idiots, out! Guards, tell the whiners waiting in line that court is closed for today!"

The goldcloaks nodded before they began to usher the indignant petitioners out of the room leaving only behind the nobles in attendance, the Small council, and the Royal Family, Robert turned back to the Princess and gave her a level look.

"So, why are you here? Has the Targaryen bastard been mistreating you?" Robert tone was dark and full of protective concern.

"Wh- No!" Mordred quickly replied and looked at Robert queerly. "Where would you- I came here today bearing gifts, and you know that his name is Pendragon now."

"Gifts?" Robert asked looking at the smaller blonde girl before he looked at the women behind her. "A few are acceptable, but a bit too muscular for my taste."

"Wha-Not them you whoremonger!" Mordred retorted and punched the king on his arm, earning a chuckle from the man. "They're my personal guard, and I wouldn't allow you to touch them for all the gold in King's Landing!"

Clearing her throat, Mordred beckon a giant of a woman (in Tyrion's view) with close-cropped blonde hair over to her. In her hand was a wrapped bundle in Pendragon colors. Taking a look around Tyrion could see the rest of the court looked on curiously as the Princess unwrapped the gift and held out a scabbard that was simplistic in its design.

Robert looked on curiously and held his hand out for Mordred to give him the blade but the blonde held on to it. Holding it in front of her, she slowly pulled the blade from it's scabbard in front of the King.

Tyrion himself initially thought that Mordred found a Valyrian blade but while the ripple patterns were similar, the blade did not have that Valyrian shine to it, in fact, it look matted and dull.

"A cheap knock off of Valyrian steel?" Robert asked curiously as he also noticed the pattern.

Mordred only smirked and looked to the blonde woman beside her. "Brienne?"

The giant blonde woman took out a blue silk sheet and toss it in the air, a moment later Mordred arm slashed upward with the blade and everyone looked in amazement as the silk sheet was cut cleanly in two.

"What... it's as sharp as Valyrian steel..." Robert marvelled as Mordred held the blade in front of her. She had yet to offer it to the King but instead looked to one of the Kingsguard, Ser Preston Greenfield.

"Ser Preston, perhaps you would be so kind as to match a few sword strokes with me?" Mordred asked with a grin.

Tyrion smirked as he saw the Kingsguard pale and looked to Ser Barristan for assistance, only for the Lord Commander of the Kinguards to motion for Ser Preston to accept Mordred's request. The sharp-faced knight sighed as he unsheathed his sword even while Robert stood aside.

"My Princess," Ser Preston bowed respectfully before he raised his sword in a guard stance. "Please do go easy on me."

"Then don't suck," Mordred responded before her she lunged at the Kingsuard's, immediately putting him on the defensive.

It had been a long time since anyone had seen Mordred fight but if any of them had thought that married life had softened her in the slightest, they were wrong. Even to Tyrion's untrained eyes, his niece was just as good as ever. The knight was desperately parrying her blows, but after another full half a minute Mordred had forced Ser Preston all the way to the dais before she relented and disengaged.

Tyrion watch as beads of sweat began to form on Ser Preston's face from the quick spar. The loud ringing of metal on metal spoke of the heavy blows exchanged between them. Mordred then turned back to her father and handed him the blade.

Robert took the blade and gasped as he began to swing it around with great ease. "It-it's so light!"

"It's not Valyrian steel but it is a good secondary choice," Mordred explained as she looked at where Robert swung the long blade with one hand. "What you are holding is the very first blade of it's kind."

Robert stopped in mid swing and looked at Mordred incredulously. "The first? You mean there's more?"

"A few more," Mordred conceded with a shrug of her shoulders. "The metal to forge it is hard to come by, according to its makers."

"Makers?" Robert immediately looked to the base of the sword and saw the Blacksmith signature symbol. To it's left was water, to it's right was the symbol for ice. "Who made it?"

Mordred looked around the room and made eye contact with everyone before she turned it back to her father. "That, my dear father, is House Pendragon's secret."

Robert looked like he wanted to force the issue but decided against it as he swung the blade around some more.

"Now keep in mind to take care of it as you would any other sword you owned. It's not actual Valyrian steel after all, so it will rust and chip if treated poorly." Mordred warned before she turned to look at Cersei.

"Mordred," Cersei greeted her daughter coolly. Tyrion could tell that she was thinking about Jaime again and the person directly responsible for their separation was in front of her.

"Mother," Mordred greeted with a wide smile. "I gave grandfather the second one, after all, you said I should send him a thank you for his generosity, did you not?"

Tyrion felt that his surprised expression must have matched that of Cersei's. He knew his niece held no love for the lord of Casterly Rock. It was quite a generous gift, no doubt it would cause his father endless pondering trying to figure out Mordred's true motivation for sending it to him. He had to smile at that thought.

Then to everyone surprise Mordred turn to look at Lord Eddard Stark and inclined her head respectfully in his direction. "I sent your son, Robb, the third blade of its kind. I hope I did not overstep any boundaries."

Lord Stark appeared to be taken off guard for a moment before bowing his head. "Your gift is generous indeed and I thank you in my son's place."

However Mordred merely waved off the Lord of Winterfell thanks. "No need, we are kin of a sort now, are we not?"

Lord Stark simply nodded, though somewhat begrudgingly, Tyrion noted. "Yes my Princess."

"Then accept that blade from one kinsmen to another," Mordred reasoned, but there was something hidden behind that kind smile of hers that was threatening to make itself known. Only Tyrion, who had known the girl for years knew that there was some double meaning behind her gesture. Mordred eyes then met that of person who eyes had yet to leave her since she made her presence known.

"Joffrey."

Joffrey, who had been dazed as if seeing a vision, suddenly snapped to attention as if realizing his sister was really in his presence. Tyrion could only sigh at this, two generations of incest in the Lannister family. At least he knew Mordred had the good sense to never fall for the little turd.

"S-sister."

Mordred looked over to the woman she introduced as Brienne who arrived with yet another bundle. "I heard you have been fairly decent and well behaved."

"I-I..." Joffrey blinked, unsure of what to say to his sister.

"So I am giving you this longsword, the 6th of it's kind, as a reward for your progress in becoming a passable human being," Mordred unbundled a one handed longsword and stood face to face with the Crown Prince. "Do not disappoint me, I expect you to follow the code I taught you if you accept this blade."

"O-of course..." Joffrey spoke in a subdued tone. His hand, however, trembled as he reached out and accepted the blade from Mordred.

"Margery," Mordred greeted the Tyrell girl, who simply smiled back at the blonde princess. Finally, Mordred looked over to Tyrion, making him look back at her in disbelief.

"You think I forgot my favourite uncle?"

Tyrion eyes widened before he made a great show of looking around the room. "I don't see Jaime anywhere."

"He's my second favourite uncle, as you well know, that's why he didn't get a blade yet." Mordred replied blithely, making Cersei hand grip the helm of her dress tightly. Her blonde guard took the last bundle, a small one, and handed it to her master.

"Here you are Uncle, a short sword for a short man."

Tyrion would have bristled at the comment had it been from anyone else but he knew Mordred was not like the others and accepted her comment in the spirit it was given, a jape. The girl pulled out a small blade, about three feet in length and handed it to him. Tyrion quickly unsheathed the blade and saw that its tip was slightly wider than the rest of its body.

"It's for stabbing," Mordred explained after he looked at her questionably. "Aim for their calves and ankles."

To test out the blade, Tyrion quickly stabbed downwards into his chair and saw it go through the thick wood easily. "I humbly thank you for the gift, beloved niece. When do you think Jaime will get one?"

"When I feel he deserves such a blade," Mordred replied, and for some petty reason, Tyrion felt happy that he was gifted with something that Jaime didn't already have. It was unworthy of him considering how Jaime had been the only member of his family who had been kind to him while growing up, but at the same time he had always been passed over by everyone in favour of his brother. And now, for once, he had something his brother didn't.

"So, where is my brother?" Tyrion asked, searching her party for his oldest sibling.

"It's unfortunate that he couldn't make the trip," Mordred answered lightly as she turned to her party.

"I... see," Tyrion tried to hide the smirk from his lips. Mordred's twinkling eyes let him know exactly why his brother was not here. "He must be disappointed to not be able to accompanied you, I am sure he misses his family very much."

Tyrion could feel Cersei bristle at his statement and no doubt would be paying for it later but any opportunity for a jab at Cersei was simply too good to pass up.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that," Mordred replied lightly, her green eyes twinkling. "He has a lot to keep him occupied."

"Like what?" Cersei spoke up glaring at her daughter with half hostile eyes.

"He's with my husband on patrol by the Westerland borders. My husband is intent on rooting out every last bandit camp on our western frontier." Mordred declared proudly.

That statement by her made some of the higher noble whispered in surprised. Most nobles tolerate bandits as they were simply too much of a hassle to attempt to root out. If you crush a bandit camp, they'll just start again somewhere else. They were like rats, never ending. What the new Lord Pendragon was trying to do would most likely be seen as foolish at best.

Mordred ignored the whispered and ruffled her uncle's head affectionately, something that irked Tyrion, but he let it slide as she turned her attention back to the king.

"So, you like the sword, Father?" Mordred asked lightly as the King ceased trying to duel with his Kingsguards, wanting to test the blade.

"Aye, it's a great gift," Robert smiled as he looked at the blade before her look to his friend Eddard Stark. "I'll have to test my new blade against your Ice now."

The Hand simply nodded to his friend but there was a fond look to it, something usually only shared between close brothers.

"So Mordred," Robert began looking at the girl. "You're obviously not pregnant, when should I be expecting my grandchild?"

Mordred face stilled before it redden prettily even as Joffrey's own twisted into an ugly expression.

"Hah! As shy as a maiden on her wedding night still?!" Robert booming laughter echo the hall. "Sometimes I doubt you're my daughter with how you react to even the mention of fucking! No Baratheon ever shied away from the task, I'll tell you that much!"

"Robert!" Cersei reprimanded with a harsh glare shot his way, but there some inkling of fear in there too.

Tyrion smiled but from the corner of his eyes, he saw Lord Stark's stunned expression before the man shared a conspiratorial look with Lord Brynden Tully. He would have to keep an eye on those two, but for now, he shall enjoy the company of his favorite niece.

+++ Lorelei- The Vale+++

"Bravo! Bravo!" Harrold Hardyng clapped as he stood up in House Lake guest room, along with his men.

"What a lovely voice!"

"Aye, as if the Maiden herself sang it!"

Lorelei curtsied gracefully from the ovation of her potential husband-to-be, who was a large man, larger than even her old body in Britannia and bulkier than Sir Kay, Arturia's cousin. As much as Gwynn protested it, there was simply no way House Lake could deny Harrold's overture's any longer.

But such was the price that was to be paid for her penance, and Lorelei would not avoid her destined path. The handsome future Lord of the Vale walked over to her and thumbed the dark locks of her hair, smiling down at her.

"Seeing as how we will be wed as soon as your brother returns, surely you would not deny me a kiss?" Harrold lusty eyes stared into her own. Nearby, she sensed the knights of her household tense at the Heir of the Vale's bold actions.

Lorelei gently pushed Harrold's hand away and shook her head. "Until such a time that my brother declares I am to be your bride, I am afraid proper decorum must be maintained."

"My Lady," Harrold choked out, his voice barely concealed his desire now. "You are making this harder on me than you know, very hard."

Lorelei nearly rolled her eyes at Harrold's blatant innuendo. Having been a man of a similar nature in her previous life, she knew all too well how to counter his advances. "I am sure a great knight like yourself can endure any trials."

"True, though that doesn't mean I enjoy them. I swear, your brother cannot return soon enough," the Heir of House Arryn answered with a frustrated sigh as he walked back to his seat across the table from her, along with his men.

As Lorelei was taught, she motioned for the serving girls to continue bringing out their meal. Lord Hardyng had appeared a week after Gwynn had left. No doubt hoping to take advantage of her brother's absence and hoping for a quick tryst. She was not unfamiliar with his methods, having employed them herself. Such was divine retribution that she had to endure being on the receiving end of such a persistent courtship.

"Did I tell you milady, that time Wallace and I routed a large force of bandits at the Gate of the Moon?" Harrold began to once more to tell tales of his deeds, no doubt hoping to move her with his bravery.

As Lorelei had been taught by her late mother, she smiled politely and gasped at the appropriate parts. Yet, what Harrold have face was trivial to what she had witness herself and from afar. Bandits at the Moon Gates? A hundred on the King's Road? Compare to the Saxon Army's siege of Londinium or fighting the Caledonians behind Harridan walls against ten thousand of their screaming hordes, a hundred cutthroats was nothing.

Of course, thoughts of her old life always brought thoughts of her King to the forefront. Her majestic, magnificent King. She could be truthful with herself now, no more lies and deceit, she was in love with Arturia. Guinevere was also in love with Arturia, so the two share loved for their King turned into mutual attraction that was- in a twisted way- a way to relieve the frustration. Both could never touch their king, Lancelot because he was Arturia's first knight, and Guinevere because Arturia was a woman. So they comforted each other and understood that it was not a deeper love.

'My King... Are you happy now?'

Lorelei smiled once more at Harrold's "rousing" tale of him beheading the bandit leader. Try facing down a Danish Warlord one on one. Horsa had bested even her when she was Lancelot, but not Arturia, no, Arturia drove him and his Sea Wolves back into the ocean. That was a real warrior.

'Arturia...'

Like Gwynn, when she heard of the declaration of House Pendragon, she had begged her sister to confirm for her if that was really Arthur, to see if this man claiming to be Arthur Pendragon was REALLY Arthur Pendragon. Like Gwynn, she had presumed that Arthur Dayne had been her liege reborn and that he met a tragic fate once more over love, in this new life. The Dragon Dynasty once again falling to a rebel.

But after the announcement of the last Targaryen and the revival of House Pendragon, she had to verify if he was her king, reborn as she was. Gwynn, always bending to her every whim, went to confirm it for her. Lorelei knew it must have been difficult for Gwynn, to meet the eye of the man you betrayed, but he had confirmed that it was Arthur himself and that yes, he was happy.

Though they both entertained thoughts of revealing who they were to Arthur, in the end they had both decided not to bother their King. For they were both certain theirs would be the last face he would ever want to see, in any life. So with that in mind they left well enough alone.

After Gwynn returned, Lorelei would be wedded to Lord Hardyng, and since he was to one day be Lord of the Vale, perhaps Lorelei could help Arthur in Harrenhal by pushing for an alliance between the two to help his fledgling nation grow stronger. Any more musing on her future was halted when the captain of House Lake's guard strode into the room and looked at her with a slightly agitated look.

"Ser Roy?" Lorelei asked upon seeing his expression.

"Your brother returns, my lady," Ser Roy, a large man in his forties gazed at her with fondness. "But he does not return alone."

"Oh? Who is he with?" Lorelei asked perplexed. Did her brother find her another suitor after all? She glanced over to see Harrold trying his hardest to pretend not to be listening.

"I... I think they are flying House Pendragon's colors," the older man said with a puzzled expression.

Lorelei eyes widened at the announcement and decided she had to see for herself. Getting up out of her seat, she went to their Courtyard just as the riders entered. At the head of the procession was her brother Gwynn with their House colors, but behind them, fluttering proudly in the winds, were banner she thought she'd never see again.

"Pendragon..." she whispered softly as her gaze fell to the riders and immediately realized one thing. Except for her brother's escort, the Pendragon riders were mostly women.

Harrold had made his way out of a few second after her and eyes widen in surprise at the women in armor but more than that he was looking apprehensively at Gwynn.

"Lord Lake, I am glad to see you've returned safely," Harrold greeted Gwynn with a false smile.

"Lord Hardyng, what are you doing here?" Gwynn stormy blue eyes narrowed dangerously at the Heir of the Vale.

"I am merely getting acquainted with my soon-to-be wife," the bulky blonde man answered with a disarming smile.

Gwynn eyes widened in alarm and looked immediately to her but Lorelei shook her head at the unasked question. No, Harrold did not take advantage of her in any way. It was then that a person that she thought was the only man in the Pendragon group took off his helmet to revealed that he was in fact, a she. That woman was huge!

"This is Ser Gywr a knight of House Pendragon," Gwynn introduced the giantess to a stunned looking Harrold and Lakemen.

"A woman knight?" one of Harrold's men scoffed but fell silent as the woman in question got off her horse and stood imposingly over the naysayer. She was taller than any of the men save Harrold. Her gaze sweep across the yard as if taking their measure before her intense eyes fell on Lorelei herself.

Lorelei tried to politely inclined her head but was held by the woman intense scrutinizing looks. There was some deeper meaning behind the giantess's look, she knew, but she failed to decipher it as Gwynn also dismounted and walked over to Lord Hardyng.

"Thank you for staying here to protect my sister while I was away," Gwynn acknowledge and saw Harrold smiling proudly.

"A true knight could do no less!"

"Lord Hardyng, I am sorry to inform you that I have accepted another suitor on Lorelei's behalf," Gwynn news stunned all the people of House Lake but none more so than Harrold Hardyng.

"W-What?! Who? Who would dare court her under my nose?!" Harrold face twisted into an ugly expression as he demanded an answer from the Lord of House Lake.

"Who it is, is none of your concern, but Lord Pendragon have been kind enough to provide her an escort to her new place of residence," Gwynn replied impassively, not caring that Harrold looked ready to attack him. "If there is nothing else, you may take your leave now, my lord."

Harrold opened his mouth to yelled but one of his knights, an older man with greying black hair, grabbed him by his shoulder and shook his head. Just like that, the Heir to the Vale swallowed any harsh words he might have had and shot Gwynn a final angry look before departing with his retinue.

Ser Roy, however, was turning pale as he looked to the master of their house in concern. "Lord Gwynn, forgive me for any offence, but what other lord would be willing to take Lady Lorelei's hand in marriage?"

After all, while the lady of House Lake was a woman of exceptional grace and beauty, when a lord married, it was for power or wealth. The only reason that Lord Hardyng had wanted Lorelei's hand in marriage was that he was all but guaranteed to be the new Lord of the Vale, so in his mind his position was secure enough for him to be able to select a wife of his own choosing. And while the lady of House Lake had virtually nothing to offer in terms of political gain, when it came down to how desirable a woman was, Lady Lorelei put all other ladies of the Vale to shame.

"I never said anything about a marriage," Gwynn replied grimly and looked at his sister with a contrite expression.

"N-Not marriage? My lord, forgive me, but I must ask you as to what is going through your mind right now?!" Roy shouted as he glared angrily at his lord. Lorelei could not help but be touched by his over-protectiveness, really, all of the knights of her household had always been very fond of her. "Have you even know the kind of retribution Lord Hardyng could bring upon us all for this slight to his honor?!"

"I have already given up all of House Lake's land to Lady Lysa. as of right now, none of us are bannermen of House Arryn," Gwynn spoke up stunning everyone. "You will find that I have given you ample pay for your service and for those that wish to stay in the Vale with their family."

"W-What?!" Roy half shouted as he looked incredulously at Gwynn. "You-You-! Wh-what house would take us in without any lands to call our own?!"

"House Pendragon," Gwynn replied and made all the knights eyes widen in surprised. "Lord Pendragon only asked that we serve him faithfully and is willing to recoup the land we lost with his own."

Lorelei was sure that Roy was thinking of the difference between the fertile lands around Harrenhal and the tough, rocky lands in the Vale. It was an even better trade-off when one thought about it. But what was now more disconcerting to her was that Gwynn had pledged their house to Arthur's, which meant that someone close to Arthur had shown an interest in her and he was willing to back her mysterious suitor.

"No." Lorelei surprised herself when she spoke up. "Tying ourselves to the Vale would be better. Safer. We do not want to cause trouble for Lord Pendragon."

The woman knight, Gywr eyes widened in surprise as she stared at her. "Even if my lord is willing to endure such trouble?"

"Even then," Lorelei replied firmly to the knight of House Pendragon. She gave the woman a respectful bow and envied her the opportunity to serve Arthur, something she longed for but knew would never be. "Send your lord our thanks, but Harrold Hardyng shall be my suitor."

"No." Gwynn glared at his sister. "You will not be marrying him."

"I cannot not be selfish, brother, nor should you," Lorelei looked at Gwynn in disappointment. How could he even think about bringing trouble onto Arthur's doorstep!

Gwynn looked at the lady knight with a pleading expression before the giant of a woman nodded. Taking out a rolled up parchment from her gauntlet, Gywr walked over Lorelei and handed the missive to her.

Lorelei eyes widen as she looked at the sealed of House Pendragon on the rolled paper. Looking up at Gwynn, she realized that her brother had definitely divulged their identity to Arthur. What did the letter contain? Would it rebuke her? Would it contain forgiveness she did not deserve? Would it reveal to her the type of retribution that her King wanted to extract from her? Reverently, she broke the seal and unrolled the letter and read its contents. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she realized it was in Latin and written in a hand she was all too familiar with.

'Lorelei,

I need you by my side, old friend. Come to Harrenhal immediately.

-Arthur Pendragon

'Old friend…'

"My lady?" Ser Roy's worried tone made her look up, and to her surprise, she found her vision to be blurry. Touching her cheek, she found it was wet and thumbed the tears in fascination. She was crying?

"Are you alright, my lady?" Ser Roy asked as he glared daggers at Gwynn and Gywr.

"I- I'm fine," Lorelei whispered softly before she turned to her handmaiden. "Gather my things, I will be departing for Harrenhal at once."

Ser Roy's eyes widen in surprised at her change of heart but quickly nodded. "Then it appears that I will be escorting you there, along with my family."

"And I, my lady!"

"I as well!"

All of the knights, down the kitchen staffs, swore that they would follow the two scions of House Lake to Harrenhal.

In the midst of everyone excitingly chatting about their new home, Ser Gywr walked up to Lorelei and stared down at her with an unreadable expression.

"I was charged by Lord Pendragon with your safety," Gywr told Lorelei before she lean in closer to her ears. "But be warned: betray Arthur again, Lancelot, and I will make certain you wish you had stayed dead."

Lorelei eyes widen before she looked at Gywr in surprised. "Who?"

"You killed my brothers in your mission to save Guinevere," Gywr replied making Lorelei gasp as fresh shame washed over her. She knew exactly who this was.

"Gawain..."

"We have much to talk about, 'Lorelei,'" Gawain reborn told her as the woman walked away.

+++Varys- Meereen+++

Varys was watching young Aegon desperately tried to fend off the duel spear wielder once more in the courtyard when a Golden Company man rushed in, interrupting his practice session with the Lord Commander of Aegon's Kingsguard, Dia. Whatever was said, it made Aegon eyes light up as he walked over to toward him.

"He's back!" Aegon cried out excitedly as he looked at the door way. "Varys, you simply must meet my most trusted adviser!"

Varys bowed to the excited prince as he motioned for Bronn to follow him. The sellsword walked behind him into the main throne room where a handsome man in his late thirties was waiting by the throne dais. The man had long white hair with violet eyes, a beardless face and was leaning against a staff longer than the length of his body. His face, which had been stern while talking to Jon Connington, the future Hand, twisted into a smile upon seeing Aegon.

"Morgan!" Aegon smiled brightly as he clasped the man's right arm in joy.

"Your Majesty," Morgan replied making Varys frown at the mode of address. Majesty?

"I think we should keep Your Grace then switch over to Your Majesty once we conquer Westeros," Aegon said after looking thoughtful for a few moments.

"As you say, Your Grace," the man, Morgan bowed his head but Aegon immediately waved it away.

"How many time do I have to remind you? You shall always call me by my name," Aegon spoke up firmly. Before he turned to look at Varys. "Morgan I want you to meet my savior and benefactor: Varys, the Spider."

Morgan turned his eyes upon him making him feel as if he was naked before the predator until the man smiled charmingly.

"I have heard much about you, former Master of Whispers. Your service to Aegon will not be forgotten."

"I only did what anyone loyal to the true King of Westeros would do," Varys spoke up. It never hurt to profess loyalty where Tagaryens are concerned. However now it was time to probe a few questions of his own.

"In any event, it is a pleasure to meet you, Morgan, though I cannot help but wonder if you are related to the Targaryen in some way. Perhaps a Blackfyre?"

Morgan immediately laughed out loud in mirth. "Oh my, no. I was born in the shattered lands of Old Valyria, where silver hair and violet eyes are quite common."

"Ah," Varys commented before he turned to see the black dragon rumble into the room and begin licking Morgan's face causing the man to smile.

"My, my, Balerion certainly have grown since I've been gone!" Morgan chuckled as he pat the dragon's snout.

"It is all thanks to you and your magic," Aegon fondly stroked his dragon with a smile. However that comment startled Varys.

"I'm sorry, but did you say magic?" Varys ventured and saw Jon Connington, Lord Dia, and His Grace Aegon IV, looking at him with amusement.

"Oh yes, my friend, magic is very VERY real," Aegon grinned as he looked to Lord Morgan proudly. "Thanks to Morgan here, he was able to make Balerion grow at twice his normal rate, of course he consumes twice the amount of food as well but... I say it is more than worth it."

"You give me too much credit," Morgan stated before he looked over to Jon Connington then back at Varys.

"Lord Varys, perhaps it is best if you and Bronn go and inspect the Unsullied troops for a bit?" Connington tactfully ventured. Varys understood and was about to leave but it was Aegon who stopped him.

"No, Varys stays, he is loyal to my rule and has contributed much to my reign. He belongs in our Small Council," Aegon spoke up in defense of his savior, having recognized what had nearly happened thanks to Morgan's lessons.

"Well, if that is how you feel, then none of us will gainsay it," Morgan replied before he turned to look at Varys with half lidded eyes. "However, understand that if any you betray King Aegon's trust, you will suffer the greatest agony imaginable, do I make myself clear?"

"Of course," Varys and the others nodded before the eunuch turned to his sellsword. "Bronn, please keep yourself entertained for the rest of the day."

The mercenary merely shrugged his shoulders before he left the main hall. Varys saw that his move was the correct one if Morgan's approving look was any indication.

Once they were alone, Morgan turned his attention back to Varys and gave a half smile. "Well, I must say it is finally good to put a face to the infamous Spider I heard so much about. From what I understand, your information has always been accurate and concise, a trait I greatly admire."

Varys bowed his head once again and thanked the man, who was obviously very close to His Grace, in fact profusely so. However he did not miss seeing Jon Connington's look of jealousy. It appeared Lord Connington had a weakness for Valyrian men.

"Now, onto business then," Jon Connington spoke up loudly, taking Morgan's attention back on him.

"Hmm? Oh right, business it is," Morgan nodded before he turned to look at Aegon. "I am pleased to inform you that when we march for Westeros, Khal Drogo and his horde of twenty thousand Dothraki warriors will be more than willing to join us. There is one small stipulation, however, that I agreed to on your behalf, Your Grace."

"What did you promise to the Dothraki Warlord?" Aegon asked curiously as he walked up to the throne of Meereen and sat on it.

"Daenerys Targaryen for his wife, and as much plunder as his men could take," Morgan replied, making Jon Connington and Lord Dia look at him in alarm. "Of course, they would only loot the traitor lands, those that are loyal to us will be spared."

Aegon appeared to be in deep thought before he looked to Jon Connington, the man taking his cue step forward and spoke to Morgan. "Why are we giving them so much? Daenerys should be Aegon's wife."

Morgan suddenly smiled. "And she would be once we kill Viserys, but I agreed to it for now because we need the men and they are useful tools."

"You don't plan on honoring the deal?" Aegon looked at the silvery hair Valyrian in shock.

"I have every intention of honoring the deal, Aegon. But, if Viserys and Daenerys spawn a girl, you can raise her to be your bride instead, thus keeping the Targaryen line pure. Another thing I factor in is that Khal Drogo would most likely die before all is said and done, after all he was defeated by your Uncle once before, who's to say it won't happen again?" Morgan answered casually as he walked over to a nearby table and pour himself some wine.

"I shall leave it to you then, for you have yet to lead me astray," Aegon replied after mulling over Morgan's scheme. "I am surprised he did not request to be the one to kill dear old Uncle Arthur."

Suddenly Morgan eyes glared at the young king to be making the boy quail. "Do not- EVER- call him by that name! Do not even call him Pendragon! Understand me?!"

Aegon eyes widen in fear but nodded. "S-sorry Morgan, I forgot..."

"Never forget it again. Also remember that Mordred is mine," Morgan said darkly as he drank deeply from his cup. "I will teach her the price of treachery and betrayal, to dare erect House Pendragon..."

Varys eyes widen as Morgan crushed the golden goblet in his hand before he seemed to come back to his senses.

"Ah, forgive me Aegon, I spoke out of turn," Morgan spoke softly, his tone apologetic as he looked to Aegon beseechingly. The young king-to-be nodded and smiled back.

"Think nothing of it, your anger at the traitors do you credit," Aegon praised but Varys felt that something was incredibly off with Morgan's reaction, his years of experience as the Master of Whispers told him that much.

"You are a kind and benevolent King, Aegon. The Targaryen line will reach untold heights of glory under your rule," Morgan smiled as he toasted the young King. "However, in order to help you achieve that, I want to do something for you, my King."

"What is it?"

"I want to make you stronger then you are, faster, better," Morgan replied as he beckoned for Balerion to come to over to him. The obsidian dragon lumbered his way and let the silvery hair man pet him softly.

"I am training as best as I can..." Aegon looked embarrassed at his progress, which to Varys was stunning, but Lord Dia had always proven to be his superior in that field.

"I know, but there is a way to enhance your abilities. Understand though that this method does involve magic and… a simple exchange," Morgan smiled as he looked at Aegon while petting the dragon.

"How?" Aegon asked warily. Morgan's answer stunned the room.

"I want to link your soul to Balerion's."

TBC

Up Next: Sansa

AN: WOW... The wheels, they keep turning! So yeah, first off, thanks and welcome aboard my two newest editors. Secondly, thanks to all the previous editors that helped me get up to this point. I shit you not that this fic would be fucking horrible without any editorial help. So thanks you Deus and Paragon!

Secondly, Thanks to all the reviewers in the last chapter. Holy shit I am at 554 Reviews and Might be in the 600 + club by the time this chapter is over. You guys ROCK!

Now on to this story itself! You noticed I change the heading and we are in fact in BOOK 2 now. I figure doing that would give the readers a break point before they reload their mind instead of thinking of it as one continuous story. Nope, I guess Book 1 had a Beginning, Middle and End. So Book 2 will be the same yet contribute to the overall arc.

As for what happened in the chapter itself, well, it's self explanatory :D Although I will say! Fear not, only two more Fate Character left! Only TWO! But yes, I kind of want to point out what i did but decided, I am gonna be a writer that let the readers decide what they take away from it. Just that if you are familiar with fate, arthurian legend and Game of thrones, you see what I am doing. And if I feel that I need to flesh out any of your inquiries, I will give ya a PM :D

Good luck on that scavenger hunt and piecing it all together :D

I love to hear you guys comments and reviews on the story itself and appreciate the time you guys take out to do it :) Thanks again for reading and as always.

C+C Welcome, Reviews Appreciated