10

299 AC

oOo

Stony Shores, with Theon Greyjoy…

Even though he spent most of his youth in the custody of the North, Theon took pride in the ironborn blood that coursed through his veins and had always hoped that he would one day sail the seas reaving and raiding to his heart's content.

But as Theon looked upon the destroyed fishing village he and his fellow ironborn had just finished raiding, he felt neither pride nor glory.

Some ways ahead near the shore stood Theon's uncle, Aeron Greyjoy. "For the Drowned God!" His thin, long haired uncle cried out before he forcefully shoved yet another captive's heads into the water.

Just like the last few villages they had plundered, each of the captives were drowned one by one as sacrifices for the Drowned God. Only the women and children that were old enough to walk were spared, but their fate wouldn't be any better as they would later be forced into either being a salt wife or a laborer.

"Praise be the Drowned One!" Aeron knelt in front of the sea.

Theon really didn't understand why his father, Balon, had to send his fanatical uncle with him. Even though the crazed priest could fight well, the task he had been given wasn't hard for him to handle alone. In fact, he didn't consider raiding a few fishing villages worth his time. He would much rather attack one of the many forts spread throughout the North.

Unfortunately his father had ultimately decided to send his other uncle, Victarion, to capture Moat Cailin and even allowed Asha, his little sister, to attack the Deepwood Motte, leaving Theon with the rabble job of being the diversion so that the main attacks could be accomplished.

"You don't look too happy, Little Theon." Pyke's master-at-arms, Dagmer Cleftjaw, approached Theon with his permanently crooked smile.

"This is a waste of time." Theon complained, "Why do I have to do something like this? I'm the heir of House Greyjoy, I should be the one leading the main attack."

The grey haired man stared at him for a moment before grunting. "Orders are orders. Your lord father gave us a task and we must fulfill it." He said simply.

"But there's no glory in raiding villages that no one cares about! We should be trying to catch bigger fish right now." Theon said, frustrated.

"You want to go fishing instead of raiding?" Dagmer's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I'm not talking about an actual fish, Dagmer." Theon rubbed his forehead tiredly before his eyes widened in realization, "That's it! We can catch a bigger fish! All we need is the bait."

Dagmer blinked dumbly. "I'm confused. Are we talking about fishing or not?" The many decades the old man spent at sea had evidently affected his mind.

"Just go gather the men, I have a plan." Theon said confidently.

As a still confused Dagmer waddled away, Theon quickly went over his newfound plan. Due to having an up close view of the Stark's current predicament, he knew that Winterfell was currently only defended by a few hundred soldiers from the household guard. It wasn't a very sizable amount but it was more than enough to handle his measly group of a hundred or so men. So he'd first have to draw the Stark levies away from Winterfell before taking the castle. Fortunately, he knew a way to draw the Stark's master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik, and his men from their posts.

In contrast to what his father thought, his time spent within the walls of Winterfell had not been in vain. He knew the layout of the castle like the back of his hand. So after he successfully drew out the Stark household guard, it would be child's play for Theon to sneak inside the fortress with a small force of men.

It was truly unfortunate that his father had decided to go against the North instead of joining them. Theon considered Robb to be like a brother to him, but he still had an obligation to his real family.

For a family that prided themselves on being as strong bonded as a wolf pack, he was sure that Robb would understand his reasoning for betraying him.

Theon steeled himself and clutched his sword as he silently chanted the motto of his house, 'We Do Not Sow'. He was a Greyjoy, iron and salt ran through his blood. His family's legacy was not filled with farming, mining or honor, it was filled with bloodstained treasures all obtained through the Iron Price.

As Theon, he would show as much mercy as he could toward the Starks, but as an ironborn, he would take all that his heart desired, as decreed by the Old Way.

oOo

Sometime later at Highgarden, with Percy…

It had been almost a week since Percy first arrived at Highgarden and he had yet to finish negotiations with the Tyrell's.

In fact, after the first night the Tyrell's hadn't said anything about alliance's or the like. The noble family simply treated them like special guests and in the rare event that they weren't attending to other matters they would strike up some mundane conversation with him and his family.

Usually Percy would feel restless at times like these, but no amount of stressing would change the current situation. He simply needed to find out what the Tyrell's, or rather Olenna, were planning to do and then act on it.

So for now, he would continue to spar with Viserys.

"This isn't a spar. You just wanted an excuse to kick my ass." Viserys bemoaned as he doubled over in exhaustion.

Percy slowly paced back and forth, casually spinning the wooden training sword in his grip. "I told you to wear armor." He said nonchalantly.

In order to 'show off' with his body forged from participating in many of Percy's tortu- workout sessions, Viserys had decided to forego any sort of armor and even a shirt.

Just who exactly he was hoping to impress, Percy didn't know. The only ones present in the secluded training yard were Daenerys, Jon and Missandei. Though to be fair, the latter was staring at his uncle's bare torso quite intensely.

Viserys finally straightened up and retook his sword stance. Apparently since his last battle with the Rainbow Knights had been too close for his liking, Viserys decided to go back to using two-handed swords.

It was a wise decision, one Percy had tried to get his uncle to commit to before but to no avail. He was glad that it only took Viserys gaining a busted lip to realize that dual wielding was not as practical as it seemed.

Percy was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a blur of motion. He should have known that Viserys would try to use his lapse in focus to his advantage, but it didn't really matter in the end. His instincts, while not nearly as good as they used to be, were still above the average mortal. By the time his attention was gained, his body was already set in motion.

In an effortless display of superb footwork, Percy spun around Viserys's stab. And in the span of a single moment, he ended up from being in front of his uncle to being behind him.

Percy had taught Viserys many years ago that one's back should never be exposed in a fight. But it seemed he would have to further cement this fact, so he used the flat side of his sword to deliver a sharp strike on Viserys's back making a harsh smacking sound resound through the air.

"Maidens tits!" Viserys swore in pain, clawing at his back that now sorted an angry red bruise.

Off to the side, quiet snickers could be heard from Daenerys and Missandei while Jon was outright laughing.

"You really should put on some armor. Or at least a shirt." Percy said, shaking his head.

"You don't have to hit me so damn hard." Viserys growled.

Percy shrugged. "Taking a hit now will help you dodge a hit later." He said easily.

Viserys clicked his tongue but didn't rebuke his wisdom, no doubt because it held some truth. So instead of responding, he turned his anger to where the bystanders lounged underneath a canopy.

"Jon, you old shit! What are you laughing about? Can you even survive ten seconds against me!" Viserys shouted, causing the knight in question to raise his hands in surrender.

"I could never hope to beat someone as vigorous as you, my prince. I'm just a weak old man." Jon's self-deprecating response was obviously not what Viserys wanted to hear and unless he wanted to beat a dead horse, the wisest choice of action would be to simply let the old knight be.

And by the sour look on his face, Viserys was aware of this so he turned to take on another victim. "And you!" He glared at Daenerys.

"Me? What did I do?" Daenerys said with an all too innocent look on her face.

Viserys glared at her. "Shouldn't you be off learning how to knit trousers or something, like a proper lady?" He sneered.

Daenerys scowled at that. "I'm here to learn." She harrumphed.

"To learn?" Viserys repeated incredulously, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Perseus said he'll teach me how to wield a sword." Daenerys told him.

Percy sighed tiredly. "I never said that." Ever since the day she first asked him to train her Daenerys had been non-stop bothering him about it.

"You? Learn how to wield a sword?" Viserys began laughing madly.

"What's so funny!" Daenerys glared.

Viserys ignored her and turned to Percy. "Are you really going to teach her how to swordfight?" He asked him.

"No." Percy replied easily.

Daenerys looked at him with a look of betrayal. "You pinky promised!" She exclaimed.

"I only promised that we would talk about it after the war. Besides, this is the perfect chance for you to learn how to do things girls your age normally do." Percy tells her.

"My thoughts exactly! Now run along, little sister. Go use that brain of yours to learn how to be a good housewife." Viserys shooed her away.

Daenerys ignored her brother and pinned Percy with a hard look. "You never intended to teach me from the beginning!" She accused him.

Although Percy remained silent, his silence was apparently the only answer she needed. Daenerys gave him one last venomous glare before storming away.

"Where are you going?" Percy called out.

"Back to my room! And I do mean my room. You aren't allowed anymore." Daenerys yelled back as she quickly left with Missandei who struggled to keep up with her.

Viserys rolled his eyes. "Gods, you're so dramatic." He promptly received a middle finger before the remaining people in the courtyard were reduced to three.

Percy exhaled. "Jon, make sure she doesn't wander off." The old knight nodded before quickly going after the fuming princess.

"So much for making her more mature. If anything she's gotten more insufferable since you wrote that letter." Viserys said dryly.

When Percy explained what he did to make Daenerys stop interacting with Tristan, he had gotten full support from Viserys. No doubt because his pride was still wounded from the spar he and Tristan had in Essos that resulted in his loss. His uncle of course denied this and went with the excuse of wanting his little sister to become a bit more mature.

"She's just trying to guilt trip me into training her." Percy says.

Viserys discarded his sword and bent down to get into push-up position. "Well, you don't need me to tell you this, but Daenerys isn't fit for fighting." He said before starting.

As Viserys expected, Percy already knew this. War was as glorious as it was bloody, and usually the glory came after the bloody part. He wasn't in much of a hurry to expose Daenerys to that. After all, the act of killing changed a person on a fundamental level.

"Have you approached Willas yet?" Viserys grunted in effort as he continued in his exercise.

"I need to get him to a place away from the castle so I can talk with him. If I approach him here then Olenna will probably find out." Percy began doing a few combos on a thatch dummy.

"She'll definitely try and interfere if that happens." Viserys hummed thoughtfully before telling him, "I'll see if I can find out when Willas leaves the castle. Maybe Alayne knows something."

Percy momentarily paused in his sword practice as his brain was slow to remember just who Viserys was referring to. Not because he was forgetful, but because any woman that was deemed not worthy enough to be remembered was simply dubbed 'Alayne' by his uncle.

When he asked his uncle why he chose to refer to them as Alayne his response was along the lines of, 'because it's a common name for a common whore.'

Eventually he remembered that Viserys had recently taken a liking to one of the Tyrell's maidservants. And after he had expressed his liking for her, it didn't take much effort for his uncle to get the young woman into his bed.

Ever since then, moans and grunts could be heard loud and clear from Viserys's room, which was unfortunately across from Percy's own room. Which in turn made his nights sleeping next to Daenerys much more awkward than it needed to be.

"Alright." Percy finally responded before adding dryly, "Hopefully I'll be able to get some sleep now that you two won't be at it like rabbits all night."

Viserys laughed at that. "Is that jealousy in your voice, dear nephew? You know, you could always have your own Alayne. Or would you rather have a group session with your uncle. I'm sure Alayne wouldn't mind, two cocks are better than one after all." He japed.

"I'll have to pass on that." Percy deadpanned, drawing another laugh.

Viserys finished his push ups and stood to his feet to stretch for a while, "Harry sent a report by the way. An envoy from Robb Stark apparently arrived at Storm's End asking about the whereabouts of his mother, Catelyn Stark." Viserys tells him.

That news certainly piqued Percy's interest. "What did he tell them?" He asked.

"He told him the truth. We don't have her." Viserys said simply, "But the Northerners don't believe it. They've been camping outside the walls waiting for our return."

Percy's mind went back to the parlay with Renly. The auburn haired woman who had accused his family of crimes against hers must have been the mother of Robb Stark.

He'd been wondering where that woman had gone since none of his men had reported seeing her, just as they hadn't seen the blue knight.

Were the two disappearances linked? Percy hoped that wasn't the case, but his many past experiences with not-so-coincidental happenings made him suspect that they were.

If Renly's knight really was with Lady Stark, then the lie about Renly's death would start to unravel. And if Catelyn Stark was anything like her honorable husband he had heard so much about, then she would surely vouch for the knights innocence.

In the event that he was publicly known as the reason for Renly's death, then the Tyrell's would definitely not form an alliance with him since that would be like committing political suicide. Percy needed to find a way to stop that from happening.

Another devious plan immediately began to formulate within his mind. He'll first have to get his newly employed assassin/spy, Lysono Maar, to spread rumors that the knight who had killed Renly had also kidnapped Catelyn Stark.

Once those rumors were spread, he'd send a letter to Harry with orders to secretly place a hefty bounty for the rescue of Lady Stark and the capture of the blue knight, dead or alive.

He expected that a very large promised sum of gold would encourage bandits and free-lance knights alike to scour the kingdoms for the missing lady. But the main reason for the bounty would make it so that he would be able to silence the missing knight while hidden under the coincidental guise of the bounty.

By tying off loose ends and delivering the mother safely to her son, effectively putting the North in his debt, it would be like killing two birds with one stone.

"You're making that creepy smile again. You made a plan didn't you?" Viserys's words promptly drew his attention.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a creepy smile." Percy said, petulantly thinning his lips.

"Yeah, you do." Viserys said bluntly before he continued doing sit-ups, "So what do you need me to do?"

"Just help me figure out a way to get Willas away from his family. I'll handle the rest." Percy hung the training sword he had been using on a nearby weapons rack.

"Leave it to your charming uncle." Viserys told him.

"Alright, time to go cheer Daenerys up." Percy sighed wearily.

"Ha! Good luck, you'll need it." Viserys chuckled.

He wasn't wrong. Percy would much rather deal with a thousand Olenna's then deal with a moody Daenerys. Alas, some duties required the strongest of wills. And his will would definitely be tested in the coming hours.

oOo

Elsewhere at Sunspear, with Arianne Martell…

Arianne couldn't remember the last time her father had summoned her. Actually she did, it was the time he found out that she had given her maidenhood to a stable boy.

That was the angriest she'd ever seen her father, but even then he didn't even care to scold her. He simply sent her away to her room and continued to pretend like she didn't exist. Needless to say, she had daddy issues.

Arianne turned into the last corridor that led to her father's study and was surprised to see someone already leaving the room. It was a somewhat handsome, dark haired male that looked too old to be a boy yet too young to be considered a man. He didn't wear any armor nor did he carry a sword but she could tell he was a fighter. She had a keen eye for strong men.

As they met face to face, Arianne gave the boy an alluring smile that would make any man cream his trousers. But she was very shocked when he walked right past her, barely sparing her a glance. She gaped as the boy continued down the hall until he disappeared from view.

Slowly getting over her shock, Arianne huffed angrily. "Well that was rude!" She had never encountered a man who didn't stop to admire her beauty.

Arianne resigned herself to later figure out who that boy was before she deftly entered her father's study.

Like he usually was, her father was sitting behind his desk, frowning over various reports from the many lords of Dorne.

Surprisingly it didn't take him long to notice her presence. "Ari." He greeted her with a smile.

"Prince Doran." Arianne coldly greeted back.

"You're not even calling me father anymore? I didn't know our relationship was so bad." Doran says.

Arianne ignored his words. It wasn't like he truly cared to have a relationship with her anyway. "Who was that boy who just left?" She asked.

Doran took off his reading glasses. "An envoy from your cousin. He arrived sometime ago." He told her.

It wasn't very hard to realize what cousin he was talking about. "If Perseus sent an envoy, then he must be getting annoyed that you've been ignoring him." Arianne stated.

"I haven't been ignoring him. I've been supporting him from afar while watching to see what he'll do next." Doran corrected.

"That's not a very good excuse for letting your nephew fight the Seven Kingdoms by himself." Arianne said dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Well now Perseus won't need to wage war by himself." Doran declared.

Arianne blinked. "We're finally going to join the war?" She asked, receiving a nod.

"I've already given orders for your uncle to call on our bannermen." His revelation both shocked and surprised her.

"Why didn't you do that from the beginning!" Arianne exclaimed.

While she was glad that they would finally be joining the war, she couldn't help but feel as if Perseus would come to dislike them seeing as they were only now joining after he had already taken care of arguably the most daunting contender for the throne.

Doran took a deep breath. "As you know, after the death of Robert Baratheon, there were five people who set claim to the Iron Throne. This plunged the realm into chaos and jumping head first a chaotic war is never smart. So I decided to make our enemies think we weren't going to participate in the war." She absorbed that information with a confused frown.

"But why?" Arianne asked, drawing a sigh from Doran.

"I am neither blind, nor deaf. I know you all believe me to be weak minded and frail. Your uncle knows me better. Oberyn is ever the viper. Deadly, vicious, unpredictable. No man ever dares to step on him. I am like the grass. Pleasant, calm, complaisant. No one fears to walk upon the grass. But it is the grass that hides the viper from his enemies and shelters him until he strikes. I needed my enemies to think me a coward so that Dorne could strike at their heels at the perfect moment." Doran explained.

Arianne was quite frankly shocked by her father's words. Everyone, including herself, considered Doran to be too weak and unfit to be the ruling prince of Dorne. This was something she believed to be a well-hidden opinion but apparently her father was a lot more aware of the state of his kingdom than she gave him credit for.

Dorne wasn't as strong as the other kingdoms. While they didn't have one of the smallest armies between the Seven Kingdoms, they didn't have nearly enough resources to go up against some of the plentiful regions like the Reach or the Westerlands.

Even if they had joined the war, they wouldn't have made much of an impact when going up against Renly, who had a monstrous army of nearly one-hundred thousand at his back.

So knowing this, her father decided to bide his time and wait for the perfect moment to strike. Which couldn't have come at a better time since Renly was now dead and the other contenders were busy fighting each other.

"So who are we going to attack first?" Arianne inquired.

"The Lannister's and the Starks have been doing a good job of killing each other. And with Perseus killing Renly and temporarily crippling Stannis's army, there is only one other contender who has remained unaffected by this war." A smirk formed on her father's face.

Arianne went deep in thought before realizing who Doran was speaking about. "You want to attack the Iron Islands? That's insane!" She cried out.

The reason the ironborn were so hard to deal with wasn't because they had a particularly large army, but because there weren't many kingdoms who could get past the Iron Fleet in order to even set foot on the islands. This was the main reason why the Greyjoy Rebellion had lasted for so long, even though mostly all of the kingdoms had been united, under Robert Baratheon.

Doran simply smiled in amusement at her outburst. "I know what you're thinking and trust me I've already planned for it." He says confidently.

"We can't possibly invade the ironborn. Or did you magically conjure up enough ships to take on the Iron Fleet?" Arianne said sarcastically.

Only the Royal Fleet and Redwyne Fleet could be compared to the Iron Fleet and neither of them were in Dorne's possession. The few dozen merchant ships Dorne had wouldn't even put a dent in the ironborn's infamous fleet of longships. They were more likely to succeed in capturing the Iron Islands by building a bridge over the sea.

"I admit the Iron Fleet is formidable. But that won't matter because we won't have to face it. I've been keeping a close eye on Balon Greyjoy since he had yet to make a move since the beginning of the war. But a few days ago, I received word that the Iron Fleet was dispatched to invade the North." Doran informed her.

"Why are they invading the North? Don't the Starks have the heir of House Greyjoy as a hostage?" Arianne said, perplexed.

"They did, until Robb Stark sent him to the Iron Islands to seek an alliance with the ironborn." Doran states.

Arianne couldn't help but laugh. Sending a hostage to ask their family for support was quite possibly one of the dumbest things she'd ever heard of. She had no clue how the 'Wolf King' had managed to survive for so long.

But while her father's news held some weight, their victory still wasn't assured. Even if the Iron Fleet was currently preoccupied with invading the North, the Iron Islands had plenty of spare ships to call upon. Naval warfare was seen as a lifestyle for the ironborn after all so they would never leave their home vulnerable to an attack by sea.

"We still don't have enough ships to take the islands." Arianne pointed out.

"Do you think me keeping an eye on the other kingdoms would have been enough to stop Oberyn from riding out to aide Perseus?" Doran says humorously before stating seriously, "I've also been improving our own strength."

Doran reached forward and ringed the service bell that was always present around him. The back door to the study immediately opened revealing the captain of the household guard and her father's most loyal protector, Areo Hotah.

Arianne couldn't help but smile at the broad shouldered man's appearance. Since her own father came up short, Areo had almost been like a father figure to her when she was growing up.

"My prince." Areo respectfully greeted Doran first before looking at her with a warm smile, "Little Princess."

"Hmph! I told you to stop calling me that years ago." Arianne gave the white haired man a halfhearted glare to which he simply smiled back.

Doran gestured at Areo to help him move his wheelchair. "Follow me, I wish to show you something." Arianne followed after the two as they exited through the back door of the study.

As stated before, it had been awhile since she had stepped foot in her father's study. So when Arianne stepped out onto the balcony that partially overlooked the castle and the Sunset Sea, she couldn't help but be in awe at the view.

Her father motioned for her to join him by the railing. "Tell me, Ari. What do you see?" Doran asked.

Arianne slowly walked over but as the view of the bay became more clearer, her eyes widened at the sight before her. "H-how?" She whispered in shock.

Docked just off the coast of Sunspear was a large fleet of ships that were divided into ten lines of twenty ships, varying from war galleys to sailing ships, carracks, and cogs. If she had to give the fleet an estimated size, she'd say it contained at least around two-hundred ships.

"I haven't been sitting idle for all these years. I started building this fleet sometime after Elia… passed away. It was slow since I had to retain the utmost secrecy, even from my own family, but it was worth it. I call it the Nymerian Fleet, after our ancestor." A prideful smile graced her father's lips as he gazed at the fleet.

Arianne didn't know if she could get more shocked than she currently was. "I can't believe it. We actually have a fleet." She gaped.

The last time Dorne had a fleet was several hundred years ago when her family's ancestor, Nymeria, led a fleet of ten thousand ships across the sea to Westeros. After the burning of those ships, Dorne had never tried to make another fleet. Until now that is.

Doran chuckled at her expression. "It was long overdue. At least now we'll be able to fend off those pirates from the Stepstones that have been plaguing our shores for decades." He remarked.

Now Arianne understood where her father's earlier confidence stemmed from. With the current fleet at their disposal, they could even go head to head with the Iron Fleet if need be.

"And that's not all." Her father spoke.

"There's more!" Arianne exclaimed. She didn't know if her heart could take any more shock.

"I know it may seem like I didn't care for you all these years. Sometimes I wish I could just be your father instead of a prince." Doran said sadly before reaching within the folds of his robes to pull out a piece of parchment, "I've been guarding this secret for a long time. If this had reached the ears of Robert Baratheon, our entire house would have been doomed. But now I think it's time I show you why I've been so expectant of you all these years."

Arianne frowned as her father held out the folded parchment. She could tell by it's yellow tint that the paper was very old.

Why her father thought that an aged letter would explain his parenting, or lack thereof, was beyond her, but she took it and began reading it anyway.

"A decade ago, I had your uncle secretly travel to Braavos to make a marriage pact between you and your cousin, Perseus. At the time you were both too young, so Ser Willem Darry, the Targaryens last protector, signed the pact in Perseus's stead while Oberyn signed on behalf of Dorne. The Sealord of Braavos acted as the witness to the agreement."

Just as Doran finished speaking, Arianne's eyes landed on the three-headed dragon seal of House Targaryen and the spear-pierced sun sigil of House Martell. Now she understood why her father didn't seem to consider her his heir, it was because she had already been promised to someone else.

"After Perseus takes the Iron Throne, you will marry him. And Dorne will finally have its queen." Doran proclaims proudly.

Even if she could speak, there were no words to describe how she currently felt because she herself didn't know how she felt.

"Do you see now, Ari? Everything I have done, I've done it all for you." Doran tells her sincerely.

A queen was something that practically every woman in the Seven Kingdoms dreamed of becoming. And no matter how much she hated him for ignoring her for most of her life, her father had put everything on the line and even withstood insults from his own bannermen just so she could one day become queen.

But Arianne wasn't like every other woman in Westeros, she was the Princess of Dorne. Even though she loved to claim otherwise, all she had dreamed for was to finally see the day when her father accepted her as his rightful heir.

"I-I don't know what to say." Arianne whispered shakily.

Doran stared at her before nodding in understanding. "I understand. Take some time to yourself. After Oberyn captures the Iron Islands, you will go with him to meet Perseus and discuss the marriage." He motioned for Areo to wheel him away.

As Arianne stood on the balcony by her lonesome, she struggled to come to grips with her new situation. While she did in fact care that she was being married off, she could at least take some comfort in knowing that it was with someone who had ties to her and not just a complete stranger.

Being a queen wasn't all that bad either. She would have even more authority and power than if she were to just continue being a princess. But that was where the pros stopped.

If she were to be married she would no longer be her father's heir. And since she would be marrying a man with a higher status than her, she would have to be beholden to her husband. For someone who was used to being able to do as she wished as the Princess of Dorne, the shackling of her freedom was very off putting.

Arianne sighed as she leaned against the stone railing. In reality, there was no use fretting. The betrothal between her and Perseus was signed years ago and was practically set in stone.

Maybe if Perseus rejected the proposal then it would have a chance of being voided. But once he saw her, she highly doubted he would allow the chance to wed someone as beautiful as her to slip by. So there was little she could do to change her fate.

oOo

Nighttime at Highgarden, with Margaery…

Margaery strode through the gardens with the elegance befitting of a noblewoman. Tonight was the night that she would completely seduce Prince Viserys.

Usually her task would have taken a bit longer, but a successful seduction couldn't be limited to something as biased as time. Because no matter how long you seduced a man, his instinctive need to be in the dominant position would be a hard obstacle to overcome.

Though this was something she hadn't had to worry about with her late husband, Renly, as he was more or less adamant with being the submissive in their pseudo relationship due to his… peculiar tastes.

Thankfully for her, the man she was seducing now greatly enjoyed the company of a woman. After more than a week of indirectly flirting with Viserys and sending him vague signs of interest, she was sure that she could start to sway the prince's thoughts.

All she needed to do now was test her suspicions. And that was why she was currently strolling through one of the castle's many gardens at the dead of night.

Margaery spotted her target sitting on a bench, staring above at the night sky. As she approached him from his side, she noted that he had yet to notice her presence.

She paused in her steps as she took in the appearance of the Targaryen prince. Viserys truly was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. With strong, chiseled features, enthralling purple eyes and shoulder-length silver hair that reflected the pale moonlight beautifully, giving it an almost ethereal glow. It wasn't very surprising that many of her maidservants and even her fellow noblewomen fancied the exiled prince.

"It's breathtaking, isn't it?" Viserys suddenly spoke, his eyes still looking upon the sky.

It seemed he had noticed her presence. Margaery calmly approached. "It is. Forgive me if I'm intruding. I occasionally like to come out here and gaze at the stars whenever there's a full moon." That was a lie of course.

"I was talking about my face." Viserys replied bluntly.

Margaery couldn't help but be amazed at that exceedingly vain statement.

After a moment of silence, Margaery realized that he wasn't joking in the slightest. "You're the most humble man I've ever met." She said sarcastically.

Viserys shrugged as he finally looked at her. "What is there to be humble about? A girl as beautiful as yourself decided to stare at me rather than the moon." He boasted.

For what felt like the umpteenth time since she met Viserys, Margaery was very tempted to let out a snort but was barely able to retain her ladylike stature.

"Well don't just stand there. Please, have a seat." Viserys patted his leg with a bright smile.

And while Margaery did take a seat, she opted out of sitting on his lap and instead sat on the remaining space left on the bench, gaining a childish pout from the prince.

She didn't understand how a prince could be so graceless. Or perhaps it ran in the family, seeing as how Perseus obviously wasn't one to beat around the bush either.

The Targaryens all seemed to practically wear their intentions on their sleeves. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She had grown up constantly surrounded by men and women who smiled at her with kindness but on the inside they had nothing but ulterior motives or malicious thoughts.

It may have been hypocritical of her since she also had hidden intentions, but it was nice to meet people who didn't hide who they truly were.

"So what brings you here, my lady? Ready to proclaim your love to me I hope." Viserys smirked.

Margaery refrained from rolling her eyes and decided to quickly get to the topic at hand. She had realized early on that, if allowed, Viserys could spew an infinite amount of flirtatious drivel.

"Is that the way you should speak to your future niece-in-law?" Margaery replied back.

Viserys snorted at that. "You lot are still going on about that? I'm telling you now, Perseus won't change his mind." He tells her.

"Am I that hideous?" Margaery asked jokingly.

"Perseus may be stubborn, but he's not blind. Of course he knows how gorgeous you are" Viserys remarked.

"So why doesn't he want to marry me?" She knew the answer already, but she wanted to know if Viserys knew how his nephew felt about his sister.

"I dunno, maybe he just likes women with bigger tits." Viserys shrugged.

Margaery stared at him for a stupified moment before closing her eyes to mentally count to five. Never before had her patience been put to its limits like all the times she conversed with Viserys. The man was so bluntly honest that she didn't know whether to admire or curse him.

"Is there a particular reason as to why he may not want to marry me? Say perhaps, because he may love another woman?" Margaery said slowly.

Viserys hummed thoughtfully at that. "...no, I don't think so. He'd tell me if he loved someone." He remarked.

"Are you sure he'd tell you?" Margaery inquired.

"Of course. Perseus doesn't hide much from me. Nothing important anyway." Viserys said confidently.

Evidently the Targaryens trusted each other greatly. It wasn't very surprising. After all, they had survived their entire lives in exile with only each other for support. But all things could be broken, even the bonds between family members.

"What if the person he loved was someone you knew? Someone you were close with?" Margaery set the bait.

"I'm not close with very many people besides my family, so I highly doubt that." Viserys told her.

"So it could be someone close to you." Margaery feigned a look of thought, "Daenerys is fourteen namedays while Perseus is eighteen namedays, right?"

Viserys nodded slowly. "Yes. Why?" He asked, though she pretended to not hear him.

"So their age isn't that far apart. And Daenerys is also very beautiful, even more so than myself." Margaery said this to herself, but she made sure Viserys could hear her clearly.

"...what are you implying?" Margaery's gaze flickered to Viserys and she quickly suppressed the urge to shudder when she saw the prince's heated gaze.

While this had been the reaction she had been hoping for, it was shocking to see how scary the usually jovial prince looked when he was angry.

Margaery quickly raised her hands. "I'm not implying anything! I'm simply making an observation." She feigned fear, though she didn't really need to act since the look in Viserys's eyes held a wild intensity that would've made most knights cower.

"There's no observation to be made. Perseus isn't attracted to my sister." Viserys tells her archly.

"You don't find his reaction to my grandmother's idea of marrying Daenerys to my brother odd?" Margaery planted the first seeds of doubt.

"He just doesn't want to marry Daenerys to a stranger. I doubt she wants that either." Viserys replied easily.

"So Perseus decided that you can be married off, but not Daenerys. That seems pretty unfair to you, doesn't it?" Margaery thought she saw a strange look in Viserys's eyes but it was replaced with a mischievous glint before she could deduce what it was.

"It's not like I care about being married to you. I'd actually prefer it if I were the one to make you into a 'real woman' on your wedding night." Viserys remarked coyly.

Again, Margaery refrained from outwardly showing her exasperation. Leave it to the vain, silver haired fool in front of her to turn an otherwise serious conversation into an erotic one. It was actually kind of unsettling how quickly the prince could change moods but perhaps she could use his deviant tendencies to her advantage.

"You heard what my grandmother said, either I marry Perseus or Daenerys marries Willas." Margaery put on an alluring smile and subtly pushed out her chest toward him, showing off the top portion of her breasts that could easily be seen due to the low-cut dress she specifically wore for this occasion.

"Of course if the latter were to occur, then you indeed would be the one to bed me on my wedding night." Viserys's eyes drifted down to her chest and when she saw the prince gulp in suspense, Margaery knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

"Unfortunately, you're certain that Perseus won't change his mind. So that's the end of that I suppose." Margaery abruptly stood to her feet, "It's getting quite late, so I'll be retiring for the night. It was nice talking to you, my prince."

As expected, she hadn't gotten a few feet away from the prince before he called out to her. "Wait!" A smug smile adorned Margaery's face before she quickly regained her composure and turned back to Viserys who was now also standing.

"What is it?" Margaery feigned a confused look.

Viserys approached her. "Perseus really is stubborn. There's not many who can change his mind but… I'll see what I can do to get him to accept your grandmother's offer." He cautiously promised.

A victorious feeling flooded inside of Margaery, but she obviously didn't let that show. Instead, she stepped toward the prince until their bodies were dangerously close to touching.

"I would appreciate that. I really do enjoy your company." Margaery smiled at him.

Now that they were standing so close together, Margaery realized just how tall the prince actually was as her eyes were barely above his chest.

"Would you truly marry me instead of Perseus? What about your grandmother's wish to see you become queen?" Viserys gazed down at her.

"I've been listening to what my grandmother wants my entire life. But now I think it's time to follow what my heart desires." Margaery said softly.

Viserys reached out to carefully brush a strand of hair behind her ear, though his hand stayed to linger near her cheek. "And what does your heart desire, my lady?" He asked with a husky tone.

Margaery knew what the prince wanted from her. He wanted affirmation that she indeed preferred him over his nephew. And she was more than welcome to give it to him. After all, in order for a good dog to remain so, a few treats had to be given here and there. So after a sexually tense moment of silence, she slowly raised herself onto her tippy toes and placed her lips onto his.

The kiss was to last for no less than a single moment, at least at first. But she had been completely caught off guard at how soft his lips felt. A brief moment turned into a long one and neither of them had separated as they were both enthralled in the kiss.

And then, Margaery gasped in surprise as Viserys's tongue suddenly slipped past her lips. The feeling of his strong arms wrapping around her to pull her tightly against his chest as he freely plundered the inside of her mouth made her let out an involuntarily moan.

Never before had she been kissed like this. All of the kisses she experienced before had either been from inexperienced boys or men that lacked any sort of technique. Viserys was neither. His tongue practically danced around her own, sometimes even making it difficult for her to realize whose tongue was whose.

She was very aware of the fact that one of the prince's hands was slowly drifting down to her rear. It wasn't surprising, most of the few men she had allowed to kiss her had tried to get handsy with her in the past.

And while Margaery was tempted to let the man have a feel, she would rather not risk potentially harming her public image if one of the castle's occupants happened to stumble upon her being groped by a prince in the middle of the night. So she quickly ended their kiss and distanced herself from the man.

Viserys raised an eyebrow at her action. "I can tell you enjoyed it by the way you moaned. Trust me, love. There's a lot more where that came from." He grinned roguishly before trying to kiss her again.

Margaery stopped him by putting a gentle yet firm hand on his chest. "Let's stop there for now." She didn't have to pretend to be flushed. As embarrassing as it was to admit, she could feel how excited she had gotten from that hot exchange.

At her words, Viserys gained a look of disappointment to which she quickly added. "Don't worry, if you're able to change your nephew's mind, then we'll be able to do a lot more than just kissing." She could tell that he knew full well what her words implied.

"I'll take my leave first." Margaery told him before turning to leave.

As she walked away, putting a bit more sway in her hips then necessary, Margaery could practically feel Viserys's eyes glued to her ass. She wouldn't be surprised if the prince later relieved himself at the memory of her tantalizing backside. Such was her body's effect on the minds of men.

Margaery had no doubt that the oldest Targaryen would now try his hardest to persuade his nephew to marry Daenerys to Willas. And whether Viserys succeeded or not didn't matter. Her goal all along had been to sow the seeds of conflict between the Targaryens.

Once they weren't as tight knit as they currently were, she would be able to influence Viserys into doing bolder things like outright defying Perseus. But of course, all of that would come with time. All she could do now was further fan the flames of chaos that would soon arise.

oOo

Meanwhile, with Viserys…

Viserys ogled the retreating rear of the daughter of House Tyrell. Margaery most definitely had one of the most perfect, heart shaped asses he had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of asses in his lifetime. It was actually quite sad to see such an ass disappear from his view.

He sighed before spouting aloud to seemingly no one. "I guess this means I lost." Reaching into his pockets, Viserys fished out a gold coin engraved with a dragon before flicking it into the shadow of a nearby tree.

Not an ounce of surprise was shown on his face when a hand suddenly sprouted from the shadow to snatch the coin out of the air. A moment later, a grinning Perseus emerged from the plot of darkness, gold coin in hand.

"Tsk tsk, you never learn, Uncle. One doesn't simply bet against me." His nephew tutted as he went to lean against the tree.

Viserys rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah. It's not like I'm complaining since I got something out of it in the end." He smirked as he remembered the kiss he and Margaery shared.

"I'm glad at least one of you has some decency. I would've left if you two started fucking." Perseus remarked blandly.

"If only." Viserys sighed in delight at that glorious imagery, "Anyway, it seems your suspicions were correct."

Earlier, Viserys had been approached by Perseus who told him of his suspicions about what Olenna may be planning to do to get him to agree to her demands.

At first when Perseus told him how Olenna might try to use Margaery to pit them against each other, Viserys had thought his nephew was simply being paranoid. Because no matter how beautiful a woman was or how big her tits were, there was simply no way he would ever betray his family.

Anyone who truly knew him understood that he followed the teachings of Old Valyria which preached that the blood bonds between family members was something sacred.

But it seemed that the Tyrell's only thought of him as a clueless whore monger. And sure, he loved women and vice versa, but he was far from brainless. He just never felt the need to outsmart those who could only wield their mouths as weapons.

"I can't really say I'm surprised. I'd probably do the same if I were in their shoes." Perseus said truthfully.

Viserys sat down and gazed back at the sky. "So what now?" He asked.

Perseus looked thoughtful for a moment. "There's no point in disrupting their scheming when we can just plan on them failing. Let Olenna and Margaery think they have you on their side. Once they realize we've been playing them it'll be too late." He told him.

It was a simple but effective strategy. Kind of like knowing that the enemy was digging a tunnel under the castle walls but instead of trying to collapse the tunnel the defenders would simply wait to ambush the enemy once they came out the other end.

"Sounds like a plan." Viserys said before an amused smile formed on his face, "Oh, and did Daenerys forgive you yet?"

Perseus's face instantly soured. "She won't even let me in our room. And she lit a bunch of candles as well, so I can't even shadow travel inside." He grumbled, drawing a series of laughs from Viserys.

Leave it to his immature but witty little sister to find a way to stop Perseus from reaching her, even though he had such strange powers. Which was something Viserys still hadn't gotten over yet.

He could somewhat understand the possibility of his nephew having the ability to make fire seeing as how they were descended from dragons, but the power to 'travel' through shadows was completely unrelated to dragons.

But every time Viserys asked Perseus about it, he would simply say that he had a few ideas as to how he was able to do the things he did but nothing solid. So all he could really do was take what he was given.

"Did you find anything out about Willas?" Perseus asked him, bringing him from his thoughts.

"It's not much, but I did learn that Willas likes to take care of his prized horses at a nearby stable whenever he isn't busy." Viserys tells him.

Perseus nodded in satisfaction. "I can use that. By the way, how do you feel about Margaery? I mean, she basically tried to manipulate you." He pointed out.

Viserys looked at him with an incredulous look. "Did you see the ass on her? I could care less that she tried to manipulate me." He said comically.

"I don't even know why I asked." Perseus deadpanned.

"And she could have at least tried something better than that. Can you believe she tried to sell me the idea that you're secretly in love with Daenerys? She'd have a better chance of convincing me that chickens are descended from dragons!" Viserys laughed.

Perseus let out a cough before standing straight, "That just goes to show how desperate they are. Anyway, it's getting pretty late. We should probably start heading back." He said abruptly.

Viserys waved him away. "Bah! You can go on ahead. I'm staying out here for a little longer." Perseus simply nodded before disappearing into the shadows.

As Viserys absently gazed at the sky, his thoughts returned to the moment Margaery had kissed him. He understood that the woman had simply been trying to seduce him in order to make him turn him on Perseus. But in all honesty, that kiss had been one of the finest he had ever experienced.

He remembered every little detail about it: the soft texture of her plump red lips, the taste of mint on her breath, even the way her tongue gave way to his own without putting up an ounce of struggle. And just remembering the sweet sound she made when he first entered her mouth made his pants tighten.

At first, he had been slightly hesitant to agree to marry Margaery. Sure, everyone spoke of how beautiful she was but his version of beauty was very different from others. His taste in women, forged by spending most of his youthful years in Lys, was along the lines of the Old Valyrian lineage of silver/gold hair and exotic blue/purple eyes. So when he agreed to Perseus's idea he had been expecting to marry some thin, bland Westerosi girl.

But the moment he saw Margaery all thoughts of her being bland was thrown out of the window. Viserys couldn't wait to bed such a beauty on his wedding night.

The only issue was that while his soon-to-be wife was as beautiful as a rose, she had thorns that were primed to prick him if he mishandled her in even the slightest way.

Fortunately, Viserys didn't believe he would have that much of a problem with her. Because unlike Perseus, he had slithered his way between the thighs of many maidens. And some of the past women he wooed had even been ladies with noble lineage. So he learned plenty about how to tame a woman, particularly the ones who had delusions about their self importance.

Because in reality, those same women who pretended to be independent only craved two things: a strong man and a hard fuck. And if what Perseus told him about Renly and Ser Loras was true, then Margaery was in desperate need of both.

Viserys stood up and began walking back toward the castle. An impish smile curved his lips as he casually traversed the dimly lit halls.

Margaery foolishly believed that she could tame him, but even an insane man knew how impossible it was to tame a dragon.

oOo

Sometime later at King's Landing, with Petyr Baelish…

"Can anyone do anything right around here! I'm surrounded by a bunch of useless pig-headed men!"

Petyr silently listened to the enraged ravings of the Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister. It had only been a few hours since his rather hasty trip back to the capital.

The moment he reached the city gates he had called for a meeting of the small council to discuss what he had seen during his leave from Highgarden.

Unfortunately he had been angrily cut off by the Lannister lady the moment he mentioned his failure to reach an agreement with the Tyrell's. Which of course was not due to any lack of negotiation skill on his side, but the fact that the heir of Highgarden, Willas Tyrell, seemed to be adamant on not siding with the Lannister's in the ongoing war.

"Calm down, Cersei. At least allow Lord Baelish to finish speaking." Kevan Lannister said tiredly before gesturing to Petyr.

Petyr calmly waited for Cersei to retake her seat before he continued. "As I said, after I was unable to form an alliance with the Tyrell's I thought it best to simply return to the capital instead of wasting time-" He was momentarily cut off by one of his least favorite people.

"Ah, because Littlefinger's time is more precious than the prosperity of the realm." Varys remarked coolly.

On other days Petyr would lashed at the fat man with a sly remark but he gathered his patience. "-but as I journeyed out of Highgarden, I was quite surprised to see a trio of silver hair entering the castle gates." He let the room's occupants come to the realization about who he was referring to.

Tyrion Lannister frowned deeply before speaking in a grave tone. "The Targaryens have reached out to the Tyrell's." It wasn't a question.

"But why would the Tyrell's want to meet with them? Isn't Perseus Targaryen the one who killed Renly?" The old Grand Maester Pycelle stated.

"Usually meeting with the murderer of your daughter's husband would be ill-advised for a house well known for their honor, but the Targaryens are only indirectly responsible for Renly's death. Much of the blame goes to his wayward knight." Varys pointed out.

At the eunuch's words, the atmosphere became even more grave. If the Tyrell's had agreed to meet with the Targaryens then that was reason enough to suspect that they were willing to work alongside them.

"So what does this mean for us?" Ser Kevan asked, also looking troubled.

Tyrion heaved out a sigh. "It means we lost the ally we needed to end this war." He took a swig of his wine.

"What about Dorne? Did the Martell's respond to our proposal of marrying Myrcella to the Dornish prince?" Ser Kevan inquired.

"Prince Oberyn sent our letter back covered in shit." Varys said with the faintest of smiles, "It looked to be human."

"Great, so not only did the Tyrell's reject us but now the Martell's are laughing at us. You make the most brilliant plans, brother dear!" Cersei beamed sardonically at Tyrion.

Tyrion spared his sister a dirty look but didn't rebuke her sarcasm. "We still have a few options available." He stated halfheartedly.

"Options, what options!" Cersei barked out a laugh, "The North and Riverlands are already fighting us, the Stormlands have abandoned us for Stannis, Dorne would rather see our heads on a spike and now the Targaryens, who we should have killed years ago, will soon have an army big enough to conquer the entire continent. Exactly what options do we currently have!"

The silence that followed Cersei's furious rant was deafening. Because at the moment, the odds of them winning the war were now slim to none.

Petyr didn't understand how everything was now spiraling out of his control.

When the war had first started, with his subtle encouragement, he had planned to gain enough prestige to become a real lord instead of being a petty one while also weakening the kingdom's to the extent that only the Vale would have a standing army left. He would then have married Lysa, become lord regent of the Vale and easily taken over a weakened Westeros.

Now it seemed that not only would the war be ending sooner than he expected, but the Seven Kingdoms wouldn't be nearly weak enough for him to take over.

As Petyr looked at each of the lords around the table, each with varying expressions but mostly ones of defeat, he realized that he needed to make new plans and perhaps consider rethinking his current allegiance to the Lannister regime.