cp12

Chapter 12

Ser Davos placed Weiss in the confines of his room and closed the windows. Doing this allowed me the freedom of leaving the ravens body, if only for a moment.

Whatever happened today, it would happen without interruption.

I woke early, the sun yet to rise. My bear pelt sheets billowed about as I exited the confines of my bed. I stalked the halls with Ghost at my side and greeted those that too were awake and around. Guards and servants and the occasional lord returned my greetings with their own, and each were made aware of the fact that I was not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. One guard I had even requested to bring word to Brienne and Sansa informing of my decision to cancel lessons. They wouldn't like that, but then they weren't going to be trading words with the Dragon Queen.

From there I made to get some food. The kitchens were already active, bustling with activity, stew pots at the ready for thousands of hungry mouths. It was low quality stuff, but it was filling all the same, and I took a bowl to break my fast, as well as another for my companion of the day. Ghost snagged a raw haunch of beef for himself.

We trekked through the courtyard, greeted all that we could, and made way to the godswood, where Nymeria and her pack had housed themselves in the surrounding area of Bran's tent. Ghost ran to her, nuzzled against her flank, and shared his food with her.

I opened the flap of the tent and entered. Bran was awake, or as awake as one such as he could be, sat in his wheeled chair against the bark of the weirwood, torso facing a flat stone table littered in papers. "I brought you food," I said.

He nodded lowly as I placed the bowl onto his table, careful not to spill it on parchment. "Good."

We remained quiet as we ate, awkward even. Words were not really spoken, for they were not needed. When our bowls were emptied though, that was when words were spoken, few though they were.

"I intend to talk to Daenerys today." I told Bran, gauging him for any change in face. No changes occurred. "What can you tell me of her campaign before I do this?"

He hummed and glided his hand against the bark of the heart tree. His eyes went white, and for five minutes he was as still as a corpse.

"Her Unsullied have just taken Casterly Rock yesterday. The Iron Fleet has blockaded them by the sea." He told me, eyes still in their white warged state. "And Highgarden is undergoing a sacking. It will fall to Jaime Lannister before the day is done."

I grimaced. That was sooner than anticipated. "Daenerys does not know this?"

"Ravens were sent from both castles, but have yet to arrive on Dragonstone." Bran said.

I could work with that.

Sitting onto a rug, leaning my back against the thick roots of the weirwood, and grasped my connection of Weiss and allowed my spirit to flow into her. She had been squawking and flitting about Ser Davos' room relentlessly, desperately trying to return to me. Now that I had joined her, she had calmed considerably.

"Dah–Vos." I called. He had been slumped against the corner of his room, drooling onto a pillow. He did not wake with my words.

Hopping over to his prone form, my head instinctually cocked to the side. Ravens made that motion whenever they meant to puzzle something over. Or when they wanted to be scratched in a certain area.

Then I pecked at his temple.

"Blast!" He thundered, flailing his arm at me. I squawked and flapped backward. He grumbled and glared at me. "Damn bird. Let me sleep!"

Dah–Vos." I repeated. His glare lessened at that, for he knew that I was in body now. But it did not recede.

"I hate your bird, your grace." He said shortly. I chittered a laugh at him and he sighed and stood.

"Tie–Let–Ter–To–Me." I commanded, hovering over towards his desk, my neck laid bare. Ser Davos did as I asked, fumbling towards the two thick parchment pieces denoting my words bound by a piece of twine. Once the letter was secured over my back, I had him open the window. When that happened, I was off.

The morning was humid, my feathers misliking the weather, but it was still freeing and grand to ride the air. For a bird it was as easy as walking was for a human, more instinct than anything. Weiss took no enjoyment in flying. I enjoyed every moment of it. To the point that I felt disappointed when I found my destination, the great open aired room with a painted table denoting the whole of Westeros.

I perched myself on the Fingers in the Vale, to the befuddlement of the four people sitting at the table. I eyed them all, then forced my attention onto the woman sitting at the head of the table where the arm of Dorne was carved. She was indeed a beautiful woman, long silver hair and bright eyes, full lips and well figured, the air of authority strong in her. Many would say she was perfect. But in the earliness of the morning, her tiredness showed. That only heightened her appearance for me. It took away her perfection, and perfection felt like something that should not be approached.

Ser Davos had told me that Daenerys woke with the sun. Though he knew not why, he knew that it was something she instilled in her company. He felt it a strange expectation to have of them, and while I felt the same, it also made this act of theater easier to begin.

Sitting at the Iron Islands, Tyrion Lannister chortled lowly. "We already knew winter had come, no need for the Citadel to send another of these ravens."

"There's a letter at its back, lord hand. Though I would not doubt you would miss it, hidden from view as it is for you." A bald, simpering man said from the Stormlands. Varys.

Tyrion tutted. "Such a poor dwarf joke. I thought better of you." But it was said with jest.

Varys ignored Tyrion's words. He beckoned me over with a finger, making a chittering noise. "Come here," he sung.

I did. I flew over to him and perched atop his head. He moved to unfasten my letter, but I escaped his grasping hands quick enough, landing right in front of Daenerys, leaving only a part of myself on Varys. Tyrion's chortle turned into a full-bellied cackle as my leavings dribbled down that bald head, and Daenerys even let loose her own amused laughter.

Varys took it with an easy stride. He wiped his head down with a cloth and sighed. "Even birds don't like eunuch's," he said wryly.

"It appears not!" Tyrion snickered.

I held my leg out for the queen, and she took it after a forkful of eggs entered her mouth. There was no seal to denote whose house it came from, and she appeared curious.

"Read–Al–Loud." I told her. She fumbled the letter at the unexpected words, eying me with scrutiny.

"A raven speaks?" She asked her small council, roving me over. I preened at the attention.

"It's a trick they can be trained to do as young chicks," Varys explained. "They can rarely say more than one or two phrases, and most will only do so for treats. White ravens are cleverer than their coarser cousins though, or so I've heard. The maesters so rarely let them out of sight."

"It is an extravagant thing though, wouldn't you agree? Who would train a raven to both deliver that message and speak?" Tyrion asked, humor in his eyes.

"Ric–Kon–Stark." I said, turning to face him. The humor in his eye went away, replaced with something harsher and more temperate.

"Perhaps whatever the King in the North has to say should be said with his vaunted brother in the room?" Varys asked, looking towards his queen imploringly. He likely thought I meant to insult or demean her. Good thing I wasn't that stupid.

"Yes," Daenerys said shortly, steel in her throat. "That would be smarter, wouldn't it? Missandei, would you be so kind as to grab our northern guests?"

From the farther side of the table, sat where Bear Island was painted, Missaindei stood. A pretty woman with dark skin, her hair was a riot of barely tamed curls and her smile ever-so polite. "Of course, your grace."

She left, and speculation pervaded the room. Tyrion wondered whether or not the king had finally caught on to his brother being missing, and Varys wondered what even was going on in the North. His network of little birds had been handily culled by Qyburn, Cersei's own Hand. He was not happy about that at all. Daenerys did not offer any input, staring me down as she continued to eat her food.

When Missandei returned, it was with both Ser Davos and Jon in tow. Ser Davos appeared somewhat irritated, likely from my keeping him up so late, and Jon looked confused. His beard had been grown out somewhat and his hair was out from its usual braid, but he looked hale and hearty and apparently unbothered save for a tiredness in his eye, dark circles marring his brooding good looks.

"Prince Jon," Daenerys said, motioning for him to sit. He did so. "I've just received a letter from your brother. I thought you might like to hear it."

He swallowed, knowing the trap that was in her words. "I would be glad to hear what my king has to say, Queen Daenerys."

I flapped my way over to his shoulder and groomed his hair. He winced at the motion but did nothing else.

Face neutral, Daenerys unfolded the letter and began to read.

"To Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Mother of Dragons, the Queen of Meereen, the Breaker of Chains and claimant to the Seven Kingdoms, I bid you a late welcome to Westeros." She read, eyebrows raising at the deferential usage of her titles. "I apologize for the lateness of this message, the letter of introduction held by Ser Davos Seaworth and my brother and heir Prince Jon Stark seems to have been misplaced. To that end, so that you might know of my intentions, I have written a second time."

"He's well spoken for a boy of eleven." Tyrion mused, blinking. "Or are those Sansa's words?"

"Twelve." Jon corrected. True, I had celebrated my nameday the prior week, though it was a minor affair and I cared not about making it more than that. It wasn't like I had started to sprout hair on my chin yet. "And those are Rickon's. Sansa didn't want anything to do with the South aside from shoring our defenses. Might be that she helped, though. Her or the maester."

"Since the moment my ancestor Torrhen Stark knelt before your own ancestor Aegon the Conqueror, the North has known relative peace. Our wars to the south and our fight against the Ironborn settled for longer than ever before." Daenerys continued; brows furrowed. "I would like that to persist. As would you, else you would have remained content with your revolution in Essos. But my want does not matter. It is what the North wants, what the North needs, that matters."

She put the first page down and began to read the second, her words holding the full attention of the room. "My people have suffered. Rickard Stark, burned alive by your father. Brandon Stark, choked to death in an attempt to save my grandfather. Lyanna Stark, spirited away by your brother, dead when found. Eddard Stark, beheaded for false treason. Robb Stark, betrayed by his own banners, along with my mother, Catelyn Stark. And that is only my family. Thousands upon thousands of northern families have been ruined by the recent wars to the south, noble and common alike, and we have never received justice. The North proclaimed my house kings again because the south had abandoned us, not because we had abandoned it. The pact that Aegon the Conqueror had made to Torrhen Stark, to protect one another, had been broken.

"You want us to renew our vows of service, to once again join our hands, a Targaryen on the Iron Throne and a Stark as Warden of the North. And to you I say, it is not unfeasible." She read, blinking wildly. "But my people have suffered; from your family and from the Lannisters and from northerners that conspired with the south. We are tired of wars that mean nothing to us and want nothing to do with your crusade. The threat from beyond the Wall holds our attention. And so, before all the gods and men that have ears to hear, I tell you this. Aegon the Conqueror took all of the south save for Dorne before heading North. Do the same. Corral Cersei Lannister, retake King's Landing, cover the south under your banner and sit the Iron Throne. Do this and talks of restitution will be made. I leave my raven with you. She will be my eyes and ears."

Daenerys dropped the letter looking more confused than ever. "Signed Rickon Stark, King in the North."