Wake the White Wolf

Dorne 

The Dornish phalanx led by Quentyn Martell broke the charge of former brethren and the Dothraki savages at the banks of the Brimstone, only a mile off from Hellholt, the seat of House Uller.

These small skirmishes were part loss and part victory for the loyalist of King Tommen.

It is a victory each time he and his forces push back the invaders, but, the enemy would not relent and would send wave after wave which had broken the armies morale and is quickly driving the spirit from the men.

He fears that Yronwood will not hold if Daenerys pushes them to the gates, then the Prince's Pass and Boneway will be ripe for the picking if Lord Lannister and the reinforcements do not arrive and give them some support in dealing with the Targaryen whore.

What drives him more into a fury is the mood of the kingdom, not a single sandstorm had come in the time since Daenerys landed, it was as if the Seven themselves had blessed the bitch in taking his uncle's capital and encouraging the traitorous Houses of Dorne to revolt.

Bah! Either way, he will still fight, he'll fight for his country and for his cousin who is now the Prince of Dorne with his uncle Doran being a prisoner within his home.

"My Lord!" He turned from the bloodied sand, sheathing his sword to meet the eyes of a messenger boy. "News from Wyl, the royal army is massing at Blackhaven and at Nightsong." Only Nightsong and Blackhaven? What is Loren's hesitation? He thought as he took a scroll from the boy, "Word from Lord Wyl, he bid me to bring it to you at once." A glare sent the boy away as he unfolded the scroll.

Loren leaves the capital by ship, heading for the Rainwood and then towards Blackhaven. The Redwyne fleet sets sail to deploy forces at the Brimstone and Torrentine. Lord Randyll Tarly and Mace Tyrell will be marching down the Prince's Pass and Loren through the Boneway.

He hopes these plans don't go awry but when has a war ever gone to play, Quentyn tucked the scroll within his coat, whistling for his mare.

"We return back Yronwood, leave a token force and wagons to bring back weapons and armor!" He ordered to three of his captains before riding off back to his temporary home.

The victorious army cheered and tore the possessions of the dead to use against the Dragon Queen, they corralled a dozen or so new horses and the strange Dothraki curved weapons.

As for the survivors of the battle, they had marched back to their camps and sent a rider to Sunspear. Tyrion Lannister was writing letters within his new chambers when a guard opened the door, "Messenger, Hand of the King." The Unsullied said and a Dothraki warrior walked inside.

"What happened?" He questioned worriedly and the weary warrior stepped forward.

"We lost, small man. The spearmen pushed us back and slaughtered a thousand of us, they steal what we've left." Quentyn Martell certainly has skill in leading men, a shame that the boy wasn't a son of Doran.

Tyrion told the Dothraki warrior to leave as he turned back to his seat. They have the men to keep fighting, her grace had brought plenty of soldiers to keep pushing North. Yronwood will fall soon enough then the largest half of their army can move up the Boneway, and will be able to attack the Reach and Stormlands.

Yes, Prince Quentyn is an apt general but without proper morale nor food, as Varys found out, their enemy won't last more than one more battle.

Yronwood will fall, the Boneway will open to us and hopefully, the North will be pushing as well. His mind began swirling around the arrival of his raven to Winterfell.

Jon's army and the Queens are what will defeat Loren, his little brother cannot hope to fight a war on two fronts. The Reach won't even make a difference. He thought as he sat down, looking at the glass of wine he'd poured three hours ago and still hasn't drunk.

It occurs to him that he hadn't been drinking for quite some time, not since the battle of Meereen and perhaps once more when aboard the ship passing the ruins of Valyria.

He's saving his final toast of wine, saving it till he sees Loren bent and beheaded for justice. Justice for Jaime, for the only one, to give a damn when their father would do nothing but treat him as the monster who killed his mother.

For that, he will abstain from the drink until then... Until he sees his little brother to the crypts of Casterly Rock.

The raven flapped its wings once more before landing in the rookery of Winterfell, Maester Wolkan saw it and reached for the creature, he quickly saw the waxed dragon on it and ran to find King Jon and Queen Wynafryd who had left for their chambers.

Jon Snow kissed his wife tenderly as they finished making love once more, he wished he could do this and feel more for her but Ygritte is ever on his mind these days and more so as time goes on.

"A child will be on the way anytime, now," Wyn said a little out of breath, covering herself in sheets. "These were Lord Stark's chambers, weren't they?" She asked him and he nodded once.

"When we were boys, Robb and I would come in here and dress in our father's clothes- We would trip over ourselves because they were too big for us." He reminisced on better times, better days which had no fighting, no death, no sadness.

A knock came to the door, "Who is it?" He asked and an answer came quickly, "It's Maester Wolkan, my King." Jon quickly got his trousers and a shirt on, hurrying to open the door and seeing the new Maester.

It's still strange to not see Luwin, the man who had taught him and his siblings since they were but boys.

"Wolkan, what's the matter?" He asked the older man who handed him a raven scroll. He took it and read its contents, tensing when he was done reading them.

Wynafryd saw this and rose from her bed, sheets wrapped around her bodice. "What does it say, Jon?" She asked her husband who looked up to her with a serious expression.

"The last child of the Mad King... She is here, she's in Westeros." The tales of fire and blood floods her memories, reading the ancient books from her family's Maester's library in White Harbor. "She's summoned me to Sunspear, to speak with her about an alliance. It's from Tyrion Lannister." So a Lannister wants him to go to Sunspear and meet a Targaryen? Wynafryd couldn't resist scoffing at such an idiotic request.

"... It's a trap, it has to be. Jon, remember the last time a Stark went South? It didn't end well, your grandfather, uncle, and aunt lost their lives to the Mad King and his son." She spoke to Jon with a sternness that was placed by her own grandfather, she took a step toward Jon and put a hand on his shoulder and arm.

Jon knew this, he believed her but then he remembered the White Walkers, the Night King, and the Army of the Dead.

He has one-hundred-thousand men, even that isn't enough. We need dragonglass, as well, it's the only that can kill the White Walkers. He thought and the only place he knows of is at Dragonstone, and that is under the control of Loren Lannister.

Dragons would be nicer to have on hand, plenty of fire to burn away the dead.

Both the Dragon Queen and the Scarred Lion are at war in the South, he knows the dead won't care about that if he cannot hold the Night King back.

The solution swirled around his mind as he knew, he couldn't see past what House Lannister and Targaryen did to his family but he has to. He sighed heavily and threw the letter in the fire.

"Wolkan." He called and the Maester stood at attention, "Prepare two ravens, one for Loren Lannister and Daenerys Targaryen, I want us all to meet and discuss a truce... Prepare twenty-thousand men to march South." He ordered and turned back to his wife, "I won't fall for no trap, they'll hear me or doom us all." Wynafryd smiled proudly when Jon chose not to bend but to be unbroken, as is the steel of his sword.

The White Wolf turns South to make the Lion and Dragon work together or tremble beneath its howl.