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Spoils for the Dragon King

Prologue Part 1

"Your Highness…!"

Crown Princess Elia Martell turned sharply to face the door as it burst open, the rotund form of Lord Varys, Master of Whispers on the Small Council of King Aerys II charging through with an expression of alarm on his face. "Lord Varys…" she said wearily. Judging from the expression on his face, it wasn't anything good. Not that any news had ever been good ever since Rhaegar had abducted the Stark girl, with tragedy after tragedy coming one after another.

Is it worth all this, Rhaegar, all this death and destruction…? Was your precious prophecy worth your death by Robert's hand? Is it worth risking the lives of your children?

Elia felt the weight of the dagger she kept hidden in one of her sleeves, but it was vanity. She knew that against a trained warrior she was nothing. It didn't mean that she would just go quietly if it came to that though.

And judging from the eunuch's expression, it might be coming to that soon. I do not fear death…but Aegon…Rhaenys…

"Your Highness…" Varys said, gently but firmly taking her by an arm. "…you must hurry. Take your son and follow me. The city is lost, the King followed Maester Pycelle's advice and now the city pays for his blindness. Please, we have little time."

Elia didn't hesitate. The city might be lost, but perhaps she and her children might yet escape this. And if anyone could get them out of the city from under the rebels' noses, it would be the Spider. No one else in the Seven Kingdoms was as capable of ferreting out secrets and working in the shadows as he, save perhaps her brother or Lord Tywin.

"What of Rhaenys…?" she asked as she swept from the nursery, a cloak wrapped over her shoulders and cradling a sleeping Aegon in her arms. As she said the words, heavy footsteps rumbled down the hallway outside, and Ser Jaime Lannister appeared along with her daughter.

"Mother…!" the princess cried out, running to Elia's side. "Mother…outside…I can hear them…screaming…what is happening? Where is father…?"

"Hush love, hush…" Elia said, cupping her daughter's cheek with a free hand. "…don't worry mother will keep you safe, I promise."

"Your Highness…" Varys urged, and with a nod Elia followed the eunuch followed in turn by Jaime and Rhaenys. The eunuch led them down several corridors to a large, shadowed tapestry, which turned out to conceal a nondescript door behind it.

Thank the Seven for Maegor's paranoia…

Elia's thoughts on the matter broke as a particularly loud crash could be heard echoing through the Red Keep. Jaime swallowed dryly. "They've broken the front door then." He said, and in the next moment was following again as Varys led them through the labyrinth of secret passageways built into the Red Keep.

"Where is the King?" Elia asked her voice coming heavy. She stumbled and would have fallen had Jaime not caught her by an arm, and in so doing showing his tight expression. Elia swallowed and nodded.

"I see." She said, and nothing more was said. Later on she would wonder why she trusted someone who'd apparently broken his oaths, but at the time she couldn't care less. All she wanted was to get her children out of the city to safety, and she was willing to trust the Spider's word. If the Spider felt that Jaime could be trusted despite what he'd done, then for now she'd follow his lead.

The group moved quickly through the shadows, and in what felt like hours but was no doubt less than ten minutes were exiting through a trapdoor at a hidden dock on the Blackwater. Jaime and Varys helped the princess and her children out before closing and hiding the trapdoor behind them. Some distance away a nondescript ship was waiting, already ready to cast off it seemed.

"Where are we going?" Elia asked as she, her children, and Jaime ran towards the ship with Varys.

"To Pentos…" Varys answered. "…ever since the news of the Trident reached the city, I have made arrangements just in case. Men await you there, to escort you to the house of one Magister Illyrio. He is kin through his mother's side, to House Blackfyre."

"Blackfyre…" Jaime echoed. "…can we truly trust him?"

"And you Lannister…" Varys said in response. "…can we trust you, when your father is the one ravaging the city behind us?"

Jaime said nothing, but simply narrowed his eyes and nodded. "I've failed as a Kingsguard…" he said as he urged a confused and shocked Elia and her children up the ramp to the ship's deck. "…but I won't fail as a knight. I promised Prince Rhaegar I'd keep his family safe, and I will do just that."

"And your father…?"

Jaime said nothing, instead following the Targaryens up the ramp and into the ship. Varys smiled. "I will send word for Prince Viserys and Queen Rhaella to join you at Pentos, until then, may the Seven watch over you."

The ramp was withdrawn and Varys hurried back into the tunnels while the ship slipped away into the Blackwater and into a greater mass of ships as those that could fled the city and the sack thereof by the Lannister forces. Jaime joined the princess on the aft deck and watched as King's Landing burned behind them.

"Why?" she asked.

"For once in my life…" Jaime said at length. "…I wanted to be my own master. And I made a promise. That's all there is to it."

Elia looked at him with an undecipherable expression on her face. "And the King…?" she asked.

"You know as well as I do how obsessed he was with Wildfire." He answered. "Compared to what's happening now…what my father is inflicting on the city…it's nothing to what His Grace wanted."

"I will not forget this." Elia said, turning back to the city behind them. "And neither will my children."

"I know." Jaime said. "I only ask that you remember that not all of us are like him."

Spare my sister.

Elia stared at Jaime in the eyes for several moments, and nodding left for the lower decks. Jaime stared where he was, letting King's Landing's fires be seared into his memories.

Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the Northlands and Warden of the North dismounted as he arrived at the Tower of Joy. He knew he was at great risk here, at the very threshold of Dorne, but with the Dornish army destroyed at the Trident and the loyalty of the Reach to the Targaryen cause in question he had a good chance to slip in, rescue his sister, and get her back to safety.

Gods…there was no question that this war was a just one on their part. His sister kidnapped…his brother and father burned alive…but the sack of King's Landing, the despoiling of Rhaegar's body on the Trident…Robert had every right to be angry at what Rhaegar had done, but to go that far…Ned feared what this war was doing to them. And there was no excuse for what Lord Tywin had done. If the man had simply taken the city with minimum bloodshed, or even slain King Aerys…but to put the city to the sword…

Rhaegar's wife and children were in the city…for all Rhaegar has done, they didn't deserve to suffer the same fate as him.

No one responded as Ned and his party had arrived at the tower, but as they approached the gates they swung open from the inside. Ned and his men went on guard at once, and then relaxed as a fearful servant emerged. "L-Lord Stark…" she stammered out. "…the Lord Commander said you would arrive. P-p-please follow me…"

Ned made a gesture to his men, and then followed the servant as she led them into the tower. The Northmen stayed on guard, wary of an ambush. Surprisingly the servant didn't lead them up to the tower's quarters, but to a large room on the ground floor. A trio of Silent Sisters waited on one side, and a casket adorned with a direwolf emblem was in the centre of the room…

No…no, no, no…! After all that death and suffering…it couldn't have been for nothing!

Ned clenched his fists, fighting to keep his emotions in check as the men behind him swore angrily, kept in check only by his example. "How…?" Ned finally managed. "How did she die?"

"L-Lady Stark…" the servant said fearfully.

"Peace woman…" Ned said, taking a deep breath and letting grief sooth his anger. Lyanna was spirited, but gentle for all that. She would not want him to lose himself to his grief, and harm someone who most likely had nothing to do with the tragedy Rhaegar had inflicted on the realm. "…I give you my word that no harm will come to you."

The woman nodded, and after a few moments spent on calming down spoke up. "Lady Stark was with child." She said, and Ned's face twisted with grief. "She died in childbirth."

"And the child…?"

"S-she named him Jon a-at her last…" the servant answered, quivering and stammering in fear once more. "…the Lord C-Commander said that he belonged with his family a-a-and…"

Ned closed his eyes, fighting down the rage inside of him. It wasn't enough that Rhaegar had abducted and raped his sister, he also had his legacy take her life away.

It wasn't the child's fault, was it?

The rage slipped away, replaced by shame. The war had changed him too, he realized, and he glared at the men behind and causing them to fall silent. He'd lost his sister, his brother, his father, and now here he was, blaming a child – Lyanna's child – for something that he could not be held responsible for.

He nodded at the servant. "I gave my word." He said. "You may go in peace, and we will take my sister's remains with us."

The woman nodded frantically and fled, the Silent Sisters following sedately and silently in her wake. The men glared at the servant as she fled, but shied away from the sisters. The Stranger's Brides were not as other women, and the prudent knew better than to look upon them with anything less than the proper respect.

"My sister belongs in the north, with her ancestors." Ned said. "Come, let us leave this place and finish what we came here to do. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go home. There is nothing for us Northmen here in the south, nothing but loss and sorrow."

The rest of his men respectfully stepped forward and raised the casket, taking it out with them. Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said.

"They escaped?" Robert Baratheon, soon-to-be King of the Seven Kingdoms roared. Varys kept his expression neutral, but gave a nod in response.

"My little birds spotted them boarding a ship along with Ser Jaime Lannister…" he said. "…perhaps they intend to join the rest of the Royal Family north at Dragonstone, or south to Dorne…"

"To the Seven Hells with your little birds…" Robert spat, and Varys fell silent. Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Protector of the Vale and Warden of the East coughed, and Robert fell silent. For all Robert's anger, this man was one whose person and wisdom he respected, so much so that even Robert would not raise his voice against.

"For now, at least…" Varys thought. "…the man is a skilled commander and a fearsome warrior, but Robert Baratheon is much too short-sighted to be a good king. Lord Arryn will undoubtedly become his Hand, and mitigate the damage to an extent, but enough will be there that while restoring the dragons would be difficult, it would not be impossible either. It will take time, but the Dornish are nothing if not patient. And His Grace is part-Dornish…"

Varys returned to the present as an exasperated-sounding Jon tried to reason with him. "Be reasonable Robert." He was saying. "The realm as it stands is barely holding together as it is. Our kingdoms stand together, but you must bind the Lannisters to us and to your House before Lord Tywin decides that his son's loyalty to the Targaryens would be better rewarded than we would his decision to support us at the last. And it must be done while the Reach wavers. If we bind the Lannisters to us now, the Reach will have no choice but to bow…"

"No…!" Robert ground out, with his fist striking a nearbly table resoundingly. "I won't set Lyanna aside for that Lannister bitch! I fought this war to be with the woman I love, and if I can't have her as my queen then…!"

Robert's tirade broke off as loud knocks sounded on the door. Jon sighed. "Enter…" he called, and the door opened to allow a very nervous-looking soldier in.

"…is there news?" Jon asked, and the man swallowed before nodding.

"We've received a raven from Lord Stark." He said. "Apparently he's on his way back…"

"See Jon…" Robert interrupted with a smile, recalling Jon's worries about Ned's mission to Dorne once they'd learned of Lyanna's location. "…there's nothing to be worried about. Ned's more than capable of taking care of himself."

"I believe that there is more to this, is there not?" Varys interjected, earning him an irritated glare from Robert and an acknowledging nod from Jon.

"So it seems." The Lord of the Eyrie agreed, glancing at the soldier as he did so. "Continue…"

The man swallowed and concluded with a shaky voice. "L-Lord Stark…" he said. "…he said that…that…Lady Stark died from childbirth…"

Robert Baratheon's roar of anguish and rage echoed through the halls of the Red Keep, followed by the sound of a wooden table being hurled to break against a stone wall. Across the Narrow Sea, the dragon prince and princess stepped onto the docks of Pentos with their mother and knight protector, the latter looking at the foreboding storm clouds behind them over the sea. On a ship bound for the same city along with the rest of the Targaryen fleet, Prince Viserys did likewise, as lightning flashed and thunder boomed, the wind picking up and the waves cresting around him.

Robert's Rebellion was over, but the stage was already being set for another war.

A/N

And so we begin...