"So let me get this straight..." Blackwall said as he nursed a mug of ale, "You break into the Holdfast, kill at least two dozen men, abscond with Rhaegar's wife and children, and then you got the mages to burn that part of the castle so as to cover your tracks, all the while the Lannister army is sacking the city. Then you steal a random boat, and just sail out out Blackwater Bay like nobody's business. That about right Inquisitor?"
"That's about right." Maxwell said with a smirk.
About a half hour ago the Vinsomer had met up with it's escort ships; a half dozen swift caravels, all flying a banner featuring a white horse swimming in a blue sea, with two shores between it; the symbol of the Amaranthine-Sunset Trade Company. On the lead caravel was Blackwall, a member of Maxwell's Inner Circle. Blackwall had come aboard with the other captains so they could receive their marching (sailing?) orders from their Inquisitor. After this Blackwall had stayed behind in Maxwell's cabin, where they were catching up.
"Well then I'm sorry that I wasn't there to see it!" Blackwall exclaimed, and he drained the mug in one gulp, "It sounds like you could have used me, or any of the old crew there with you."
"My chosen agents and I were more than sufficient Blackwall. The only real challenge was Ser Gregor Clegane, who fell all the same."
"Clegane..." Blackwall said with a snarl, "I never liked that man. He was nothing more than a violent brute, entirely undeserving of knighthood. Now I'm really sorry that I wasn't there; I would have liked the chance to end his miserable existence myself."
"What's done is done Blackwall. Clegane is dead, along with his fellows, and their bodies are probably burnt to a crisp by now, along with at least half of the Holdfast. No point in spitting venom at a dead man."
"Of course you're right. Tell me though," Blackwall said, leaning forward on his chair, "When are you going to help them reclaim their metal chair?"
"By 'them' I assume you refer to Elia and her children?"
"Of course that's whom I refer to. A Princess of Dorne, and her children by Rhaegar Targaryen. You, the Inquisitor, rescued them, investing Inquisition resources, and slaying more than a few Westerosi in this endeavor. I understand that you're a friend of Princess Elia's, but that alone can't be it. Why else would you go to such lengths unless you mean to help them reclaim the Iron Throne?"
"Maybe one day Blackwall, but not today, tomorrow, or even next year." Maxwell replied, "The Inquisition doesn't have the manpower on this side of the world to fight a war against half of Westeros. Mace Tyrell will most likely throw his lot in with Baratheon when he receives the news that King's Landing has fallen, the Mad King is dead, and Princess Elia and her children all burned to death in the Holdfast. That leaves only the Martells, and you and I both know that they could give a spear to every Dornishman and still not have enough fighting strength to win against the combined armies of the Stormlands, the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and now the Westerlands and eventually the Reach. No, Dorne will bend the knee to Robert Baratheon as well.
"Besides," Maxwell said as he leaned back in his chair, "I'm not entirely convinced that Westeros needs the Targaryens as their kings. Aerys was a madman in every meaning of the word; he lost the right to be king when he killed those Starks. We will see what kind of king Robert Baratheon will make. If he is a good king, we will do business with him like we did Aerys. If he or his heirs are unworthy of being king then... we'll have a replacement."
"You play a long game Inquisitor. One could mistake you for being Orlesian." Blackwall said, "So the Iron Throne isn't a priority at the moment, that's fine, but what do you intend to do with them in the meantime?"
"I'll take them to Skyhold. Elia will want for nothing, and her children will grow up safe and happy. I'll instill good traits and virtues in them. If the day comes that the Baratheons prove unworthy of kingship then I'll put Aegon VI on the Iron Throne. But until that day comes, they'll live in Thedas."
"Speaking of Thedas Inquisitor, just how much have you told Elia and her wee ones about how we're going to get there?"
"They know that we're sailing there."
"Saying that we're sailing to Thedas is like saying that a lit match is the same as a bonfire."
"Aptly put."
"You'll have to tell them before we reach 'The Edge'. It's not like you can just confine the lass and her little ones to that fancy cabin you gave them so they don't see it. They'll feel it. We all feel it whenever we go through. Feel it in our gut, no matter how far below deck we are. No use hiding it. Besides, from what you told me they've already seen Rion and his apprentices light up that wreck you 'borrowed' from King's Landing. Hopefully it won't come as too much of a shock."
"I intend to tell them when we get to the Edgefort Blackwall."
"I'll hold you to it Inquisitor." Blackwall said as he leaned back in his chair, "Since they don't know how we're getting there, is it safe to assume that Elia, and by extension the rest of Westeros, don't know who we really are?"
"You're correct Blackwall." Maxwell admitted, "As far as they know, we're simply the Amaranthine-Sunset Trading Company, making our fortune from carrying and selling wares from Thedas to Westeros and back. They don't know about the Inquisition, or who I really am yet, let alone that I'm the Herald."
Blackwall grunted, "You'll probably want to tell them that to. Wouldn't do for them to wonder why everyone's bowing to you and asking for blessings when we reach Ostwick."
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West, was not a happy man.
Mad King Aerys was dead, slain by one of his own Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister, Tywin's eldest son. Rhaegar was dead as well, killed on the Trident by Robert Baratheon. King's Landing was under the control of Tywin's army, and the remains of the Targaryen armies were standing down across the Seven Kingdoms. There was only one problem;
Five Targaryens were still unaccounted for.
The pregnant Queen Rhaella was missing, along with her son Viserys. Rumor had it that they had fled to the Targaryen's ancient seat of Dragonstone. Princess Elia Martell, wife of Rhaegar and mother of his two children, was also missing, despite all intelligence saying that they were still in Maegor's Holdfast.
Of course, the Holdfast did go up in flames. After three hours of fighting the fires Tywin's men finally put it out, and were able to search for Rhaegar's family, or their burnt bodies.
They found nothing except the charred bodies of Lannister men, including a barely recognizable and Ser Lorch (though miraculously, Gregor Clegane lived, albeit horribly burned, barely breathing, and unlikely to live much longer). Thus Lord Tywin was unable to confirm whether or not Elia and her children were dead or not.
Now Tywin had to deal with Lord Stark, who had arrived shortly afterward with the Northern host, and Tywin didn't have as large a token of fealty to Robert as he had initially wanted.
The death of Aerys would no doubt please Baratheon greatly, but Rhaegar's children still on the loose... that may damper his gratitude towards the Lannister contribution.
"My Lord Lannister!"
Tywin looked up from his desk and set his gaze upon the hapless page boy. He was in his tent outside King's Landing, which was still burning, studying maps of the Red Keep, Maegor's Holdfast in particular, hoping to divine where Elia and her children had went, all the while cursing Maegor himself for killing the builders of the secret passages in the Keep, so that only he would know them. Needless to say, this made the task of finding the Princess very difficult.
"What is it?" he snapped before turning his attention back to the maps.
The page bowed his head low, "A thousand pardons My Lord, but the Maester told me to update you on Ser Clegane."
"Well? Has he finally died then?"
"Actually, my Lord, he's awake. And he's talking, in full sentences no less!"
Tywin looked at the page. This was surprising news. Clegane should have died from his burns hours ago, and at the most should be screaming bloody murder, not speaking in full sentences. If Clegane was lucid then maybe he might be able to offer an insight as to where Elia and her children went.
"Take me to him at once!"
The page nodded and left the tent, Tywin close on his heels, followed closely by a half dozen guards.