If you're new to this collection of stories, please read A Crown of Bones (aCoB) first – you won't really understand this story if you don't.

First off, let me thank all you great followers and reviewers. I got over 4,000 views on A Crown of Bones (aCoB), and a staggering 112 reviews! That's seriously amazing, thank you all so so SO much! I hope to get the same standard for this story, if not more.

I got a lot of positive feedback on aCoB – especially on the sick and twisted bits as well as the plotting, but mainly the big Game-of-Thrones twists. Thankfully, nearly all of you understand I need to have some quiet chapters to set up the twists. This story will have a few more than aCoB.

So, this takes place two weeks after A Crown of Bones. As you can guess, nothing major has happened yet.

Rylon Baratheon – The Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands

Traitors. Oathbreakers. Men without honour. There weren't enough Gods above that I could curse to for the treasonous men that dragged me through the stone corridors. Strange… I never thought the castle I'd called 'home' for decades could be so cold. I yearned for Storm's End. For those raging downpours and cracks of thunder and lightning. For my daughter in my arms. Even Ryleigh. No matter how small and skinny he was.

I cursed myself. I'd spent all those years wishing he could be more like his brother – a proud member of the Kingsguard. In the past two weeks of being chained in the darkness of the dungeons, I waited for him to find me. I waited for my eldest son to come for me and tear me from the chains. Yet, when the Kingsguard clad in silver came for me, I only found Ser Howland Swann. A man who I'd known since he was a babe – a man I had appointed to the Kingsguard myself.

I was thrown to the floor in Rhaegon's room. Only, Rhaegon did not lie in bed, ill and meagre. Nor did Vysella, with her beautiful pointed features and lopsided smile. No, instead, Aeron sat in his chair, one leg crossed over the other as he read a book. He glanced up at me for a second before looking down to his book and reading for another moment.

"You treasonous leech!" I bawled, getting to my legs to run at him. I'd tear him apart. For what he had done to me! For what he had done to my daughter, to my friend, Vysella. But, as I did so, Ser Howland grabbed me by the neck, and threw an armoured fist into my nose. I felt it crack, and blood coated my tongue as I folded onto the ground.

"It is customary to kneel, Lord Hand." Ser Howland informed me.

"He's not Lord Hand, Ser Howland," Aeron replied, still looking at the book, "well, at least he isn't if he keeps that tone." Aeron put down his book and examined me. "You may rise, My Lord."

Ser Howland picked me up, "I'll cut you down, bastard!" I roared at him, with only Ser Howland to me back.

"There's the famous Baratheon temper." Aeron chuckled. "Ours is the Fury!" He sneered. "Gods, how expectedly dull. I would have invited you to my coronation but… well, I thought you might do something like this." As Aeron walked, I saw him pick up a belt that held a sheathed sword. The hilt was dark as night, with a ruby encrusted into the pommel. Blackfyre. Draegor's sword. "It was a very nice affair. I allowed Delyth to arrange it. Gods, the woman has a very nice taste."

"You sicken me." I growled. "I should have ridden to the Vale and throttled you at your mother's breast."

"Perhaps." Aeron exhaled heavily. "No doubt you would have done the same to my mother."

"The whore Baelish?"

"And there lies the difference. No doubt you're fully justified in your hatred of me, as I am to you. And to Viserys and the harlot, Haylise." I clenched my fist at the mention of my daughter. I felt my nails dig into my skin, wishing his neck was inside my hand. "But, I will not punish your sons for your transgressions. Baldinar has been a loyal member of the Kingsguard for five long years. Upon news of Draegor's death, he was one of the first to bend the knee and swear fealty."

"Baldinar would never do such a thing." I growled. "He'd never serve a pretender like you."

"He'd do what his oath dictates. He is a knight of the Kingsguard before he is a Baratheon. You know the oath, My Lord." Aeron fastened the belt around his waist.

The door sounded with a knock, and Ser Mikal Drake entered, his steel armour glistening in the light of the day. A long, heavy scar sat across his face, separating his sapphire eye from the emerald. On the side of his face, the hair had been shorn, revealing a heavy scar that dug into his head as if a blade had penetrated the skull itself.

"Your Grace." He bowed his head.

"Ser Mikal. You're a tad early… no mind." Aeron smiled at me. "Lord Baratheon, you're familiar with Ser Mikal."

"Whoreson dog." I snarled at him. "I'd give my life to drive a sword through your skull!"

"Your favoured Ser Richard Dayne tried." Aeron picked up a cup of wine. "But loyal Ser Mikal prevailed." Aeron turned to Ser Mikal, "One moment, Ser." Aeron turned back to me. "My father is dead. As is my brother. Viserys and your traitorous daughter have fled the capital. I offer you a chance to bend the knee and proclaim me the one true King."

"Rot in hell!" I tried to lunge at him, only to have Ser Mikal grab my arm and pull me back, holding me in place. "You are no King of mine! You're no true Targaryen… just an up-jumped bastard from the Vale!"

Aeron's smile flickered away for a moment, and the cup in his hand shivered. "Out of respect for your family's service, I will offer you one last chance. I will show you mercy, and send you to the Wall."

"Take your offer and shove it up your bastard arse!" I shouted at him. Aeron nodded, tutting.

"Ser Mikal." Aeron nodded. Ser Howland held my chains wrists above my head and to the bedpost as Ser Mikal removed a small dagger. "Ser Mikal told me a story, My Lord." Aeron moved to sit down again, pouring more wine into his cup. "You see, he was in love once. To a woman, here in King's Landing. I do believe that some of your honourable men were involved. Is that right, Ser Mikal?"

"They murdered her." Ser Mikal growled at me. "They butchered her without cause."

"Lies." I growled. "My men have been defending the Realm in the Stormlands!"

Aeron tutted again, "You offend Ser Mikal's honour." He nodded at Ser Mikal, who raised the knife to my throat.

"You kill me," I shouted at him, fear gripping my voice, "and my son will march on King's Landing!"

"Your son?" Aeron looked puzzled, thumbing his chin as he furrowed his brow. "Oh!" He laughed, "little Ryleigh? I somehow doubt that… Ser Mikal. I believe you've waited long enough for satisfaction."

Ser Mikal Drake – The Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands

It felt good. Watching the knife break through the fucking man's throat. Setting the blood free, watching it pour from his throat like a scarlet waterfall. There hadn't been enough Baratheon blood spilt. As I watched it seep down to the floor, the colour drain from Baratheon's face and his eyes grow wide, I felt the hole of fury in my stomach sate.

Daisy was avenged. I still remembered finding her, clutching her womb, face filled with horror and disbelief. I remembered sitting there in the street, holding her body for what felt like an eternity; some small part of me hoping that I could keep her soul tethered to her body. That the Gods themselves would take pity and return her to me.

Six long years I'd been waiting for vengeance. Six long years since I'd found the man. A filthy fucking Baratheon soldier. He'd gotten away from it. Rylon was responsible. So was the whore Haylise. Every Baratheon cunt in Westeros. I'd destroy their house. I'd take everything away from them. And with Aeron in power, I'd taken the first step on my quest for vengeance.

"Well," Aeron stood up from his chair, pulling out his black cuffs from beneath his scarlet jerkin, "that was dreary…" He sighed, raising a hand to place on my shoulder.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"These men believe their birth entitles them to everything." Aeron looked at the body which still oozed Baratheon blood. "He poisoned my father. Kept him ill so he could maintain control of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Rylon Baratheon did?"

"You know more than most how treasonous the Baratheons can be. Blood will tell."

Of course Rylon would have done this. The Baratheon bastard. He was a villain – they all were. With Aeron leading us, we would cleanse Westeros of the rats. And maybe then, I would sleep better.

"Clean this up, will you?" Aeron patted my shoulder before leaving the room, whistling a tune.

So, I feel like this was the best chapter to start off this instalment – I mean, look at the name. Anyway, hopefully this has helped to set the tone of this instalment. I've got some pretty good twists planned out for this story.

I plan on it being a tad longer than A Crown of Bones. Anyway, please leave a review – the more reviews I get, the quicker I update. I'm always on the lookout for more characters. A Lord Mormont, a Lord Lannister… Kingsguard Knights, Maesters etc etc.

Remember the rule: Only one submission per house. I've been known to make exceptions, but I'm pretty adamant about this rule.

So, hope you guys enjoyed – see you next time!