The Coming of Winter

by CLBONE13

Emma Swan and her family and friends are brought to Westeros to stop Jafar from using the Legendary Children of Ice and Fire (Dany Targaryen, Jon Snow, and Bran Stark) to complete his evil ambition to take over all worlds and set them on their destiny to save their homeland, but the War of Five Kings is raging, everyone else in Westeros wants them too and Winter is Coming.

3. Fire and Blood

CHAPTER 2: FIRE AND BLOOD

Dragonstone, Eighteen Years Ago

Much to Ser Barristan Selmy's disgust, Stannis Baratheon had been Dragonstone not one hour when he had a man on the scaffold. On a normal day, Barristan would find this quick action commendable. But today, all he could think of was that if Rhaegar had his way, no man would lose a head or a hand without a trial be they great or small.

He's already passing judgment where as far he's concerned he has no place to pass judgment. Barristan knew that Rhaegar had not and could not have committed the crime for which he had died. He also knew that Robert Baratheon didn't care, would never care if he had cared he would have made sure that Princess Elia had lived long enough to tell them the truth, and to add insult to injury to hear Ned Stark tell it, the poor girl's own brother, he hadn't cared for her either. It stung to see his brother standing there, passing judgment on a man at a castle that wasn't his. Dragonstone belonged to the Targaryens. Only to the Targaryens. Say what you would about their right to Westeros, but they had built Dragonstone, nurtured it themselves and raised their Dragons here after they came from the Doom of Valyria. If it belonged to anyone it was to them.

When Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, Barristan thought, He let most of them keep their houses.

"This man. Jon, Son of Jon." Stannis Baratheon said in his deep voice, "Stands accused of stealing bread from the bakery."

Barristan was disgusted, Rhaegar had been trying to make this island more livable for the Smallfolk, more prosperous. In the Prince's eyes, it was a crime to punish a man at all for such a minor crime.

"For this," Stannis Baratheon said solemnly, "He will lose a hand."

Barristan flinched indefinitely, clutching baby Princess Daenerys as the man's hand was cut. The child whimpered softly. Eddard Stark stepped solemnly up to the new King's brother.

"That was a little excessive, don't you think?" Stark asked his friend's brother conversationally, "Why not just send him to the Night's Watch?"

"He wouldn't go." Stannis spat, "He claimed that he stole the bread to feed his family. How hard is it for a man to learn a trade around here?"

"It should be harder for him to learn a trade, or feed his family," Barristan said, "With only one hand."

Stannis ignored this remark, "You brought the brat for judgment."

"She is a newborn child." Stark answered, "And I will take her to Winterfell and raise her with my sons, if it pleases Your Grace."

"Very well." Stannis said, "But I will have the boy."

"No." Stark answered, "Both the Martells and his aunt's family have agreed to foster him. I will not allow him to be butchered in spite of that."

"So you would prefer him to go to Dorne or Arendale and plot to overthrow my brother."

"He's an eight-year-old boy." Stark answered, "He won't be plotting against the King until he's much older and anyway he blames his father and Jaime Lannister."

That wasn't strictly true. Viserys blamed Robert Baratheon too, even, if not especially after meeting Stark.

"My brother will not allow this." Was all Stannis would say in response.
"Then don't tell him." Ned answered. Stannis ground his teeth.

"And you, Ser Barristan Selmy." He turned to Barristan, "You fought against my brother and yet he wants you for his Kingsguard. Even after you killed several my men."

"Really?" Barristan was not inclined to believe the claim.

"Really. He says that he will not kill man for loyalty."

And yet, loyalty to the Realm was what Rhaegar and Elia died for. That and loyalty to each other.

"And yet, he kills children for the sins of their parents." He handed the infant Princess to Stark, "I will do it if you will give your word that that the children will not be harmed."

That is the important thing after all, He thought, That is what they all died for.

"I give you my word."

"Very well." Barristan said, "Then I will serve your brother for the rest of my days."

But only your brother, I will call no other Baratheon, king. Not your younger brother, not you and certainly not any child sired by the man who killed my son.
Wistfully Barristan watched Eddard Stark ride away carrying both infants on his horse. He noticed the man from the scaffold, (Jon Jonson was it)sneak by the horse and steal a sack of gold from Lord Eddard. Lord Eddard stopped briefly and offered him a silver bracelet as well.

She'll be safe with him Barristan thought, Reared by his hand, she'll be everything Rhaegar always wanted her to be.

Dragonstone; Present Day

Henry Mills

I stood on Gendry's shoulders, looking into the Castle's window. Not my best idea? I'd be the first to admit it. Jafar looked slightly different from the looming figure I had nightmares about as a kid. Rather than being practically bald he had long curly hair that parted just above his forehead, a round face instead of a thin one, and wore black rather than red. In addition to Cora there were three women with her that you'd have to be blind not to recognize as Maleficent, Ursula and Cruella De Ville (no, seriously.) Also there was a bald man with a serious face and a square jaw, an ugly woman with big ears and a stunningly beautiful woman dressed all in red.

"That's Stannis Baratheon." Gendry said when I mentioned the man, "Lady Melisandre and his wife."

"Really?" Emma came up to the window, "Well I guess we can tell which is which." The women in Red said a short spell and a large black hole opened up in the middle of the floor.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Lemme, see, boy." Hook pushed us aside, "Oh that there's a portal, judging by the red streaks it's an inter-world portal, but I can't see where's going."

"Then describe it." Said Alice.

"A desert it looks like. Big Dragon Banner."

"A red Dragon?" asked Scarlett, "With three heads."

"Yes."

"Essos." Scarlett, Alice and Cyrus all said at once.

"I think Cora and Jafar are going through the portal."

"In that case we're going to have to break in and get through that thing." Said Emma, "Any idea how the hell we do that.

Snow White

Ever since I was a child, I've had a list of ways, I'd like least to spend my day at court. Since I arrived in Kingslanding I'd added at least ten things to a list I hadn't properly consulted since I was twelve years old. Our first morning there, breakfast with Cersei Lannister had just made the very top of the list. She drinks at least six cups of wine before breakfast, five during and seven after. That's right eighteen cups of wine, first thing in the morning. Except her son's wedding was coming soon, so she doubled it. That's right the day Regina and I had breakfast with her, Cersei Lannister drank at least thirty-six glasses of wine in one sitting. I might have had something resembling sympathy if that was all she had for breakfast. But no, she had the medieval version of a gourmet hotel breakfast (I refuse to go into exact detail) and ate all of it while drinking herself sick. While talking to us. Naturally, I had beer and bread with Charming three hours later when we were in that club and I finally had that image out of my mind and ate nothing then. I wouldn't have gone with Regina if not for the fact that we needed information.

After listening to Cersei go on about her issues with her son (turns out she's the kind of parent I hated most when I was teaching fifth grade) for two hours, Regina finally asked, "So what I've heard a lot of rumors regarding what went on between your family and Houses Stark and Targaryen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cersei dropped the biscuit she was holding, "Who told about that? I don't know anything…..about!" She held her breath like a child and then said, "Oh all that is very, very complicated." She paused for a moment, "I supposed it all started really when my mother rejected King Aerys II in favor of my father. He wanted to marry her of course more than anything, but my parents were in love. So King Aerys got saddled with his mousy oldest sister, Rhaella. She was much more beautiful than my mother of course, but she was shy and sickly and…." Cersei paused for dramatic effect, "Rumor has that their father, King Egg only wanted Aerys and Rhaella to get married so he'd have a father for Rhaella's baby which it was said was fathered by one of the Kingsguard." She explained this in a quiet sensual voice, "He wouldn't have resorted to the more traditional way of marrying his children otherwise. Rhaella was his second favorite child after Duncan, his heir you see. And Aerys was his least favorite, so who better to blame for his angel's loss of honor than his wayward son. Barely six months later, Rhaella's son, Rhaegar was born while Summerhall was burning down, killing his uncle and grandfather." She laughed as though it was some kind of cruel joke. "So Aerys became King Aerys II and despite all the tension between the two Aerys made my father, Hand of the King and my mother became Queen Rhaella's handmaiden. They were close as close could be, my mother and Rhaella. She wailed like a baby at my mother's funeral. It had been a horrible three years for her altogether, you see. Aerys was incredibly unfaithful to her, after all. Bedded as many women as Aegon the Unworthy. And after, Rhaegar, she had such poor fortune with babes. In the past five years she'd had three daughters and a son and that's not counting all the miscarriages. The son was a stillbirth and the daughters….Beatha didn't make to her first nameday, Elaena was dead after three months and poor little Rhaena was so early she never really had a chance and now her best friend was dead. Thank the gods, little Viserys was born barely a year later, as unimpressive as he was. Not that it made much of a difference to the Mad King. He wanted a daughter, not another son. He barely noticed Viserys after he was born. I don't think he could remember he had two sons on his worst days and after Viserys was born his better days got fewer and further between until everyday was his very worst day and poor Rhaella bore the brunt of it. Aerys beat her, he raped her, according to one rumor he once tried to whore her out during a small council meeting. I was too young to understand any of this at the time, so when Rhaella would break down like she did at my mother's funeral, or burst into tears at a small council meeting, I would think, What's the matter with her? Is she simple-minded? Is she mad? Why is she crying like a baby, she's the fucking queen? Had I known I'd definitely have let her be a mother figure to me when she tried to be. Robert was no Baelor the Blessed, mind you, but I can appreciate now that what Rhaella went through far worse than I ever did. And then she lost her eldest son, her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren in less than a month." Cersei took another drink of wine and paused, "And then when she was forced to flee to Dragonstone where she died giving birth to the daughter she wanted, I've heard more than a few rumors about this daughter and I've always wondered which ones are true." Thankfully she passed out after that and we could leave.

"Well," I said, "She was a gold mine of information."

"I know." Regina agreed , "She might as well hang a sign around her neck declaring that she knows literally and figuratively nothing. But the good news is we do know something."

"We do?"

"We know that if Jafar is going to need to get a mole, we know who he's going to use."

Kingslanding, Forty-three years ago

Rhaella

She was fourteen when she first him at her father's tourney. His face was hidden by a helm. He unhorsed both of her elder brothers. Duncan was a good sport about and laughed, but Aerys was bitter and threw his sword in anger. When Father asked his name, he finally removed his helm. He came to her and gave her his favor, a brown flag with three leaves of wheat. His face was a comely one with tousled dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. He was of age with her.
"My name is Barristan, Your Grace." The boy said as he fell to his knees, "Of House Selmy."

Across the Narrow Sea, Yunkai, Present day

Nakael Blacksheep

I dislike the nickname, "Blacksheep." But I have grown to learn that among boys of age with me, especially among the Dothraki, a semi-insulting nickname is not a sign of cruel mockery, but of respect. My proper name is Nakael and I was born into slavery. My mother was of the Summer Island, my father was Lazharene. They met after Papa saved Mama from being beaten by their master, my master and they fell in love. They met for years in private and had two sons, myself and my younger brother, Mikos. As it was Astapor where I was raised, I would have been Unsullied, but for the fact that I was born in my master's house. Instead, I was raised to tutor his children in the old histories and languages. I learned to read ahead of other boys. From the time I could speak, I was ordered to speak Old Valyrian instead of the language of either of my parents. And I was hit if I got a word wrong, or if one of his children got a word wrong, or if they broke something important or spoke back to their father. And then when I was twelve, we heard talk of Mikos becoming Unsullied. Then the Mother of Dragons came. We saw her deal with Master Kraznys. We didn't think much of it. We had been long taught not to think much of such things. Even after she bought the entire army with a Dragon. A real Dragon. One of the only three in the world. I didn't think that anyone would sell such a marvelous dark-scaled beast. I was right. Instead, she turned the beast on Master Kraznys. As a child of the Lhazarene, I am not supposed to hate anyone nor rejoice in anyone's death. But I rejoiced for the death of Master Kraznys. He was the most cruel of all the Masters. I watched him burn. And then I saw all of the Masters torn down and my people were freed. Welcomed into the arms of the Mother of Dragons and of her Dothraki horde. But Mikos and I now had to prove ourselves to the Dothraki boys.

"I'll bet you can't do it." Tumco Strongbow turned me towards the pen, "I'll bet you scared, Blacksheep."

"I am not scared."

"Then why won't you do it?" Tumco's younger brother, Fenno grinned at me, "We've all done."

"Does your Khaleesi know you tease her Dragons?"

"I told you the Lamb Boy was too much of a coward." One of Tumco's swaggering companions slapped him on the back, "It's his slaves' blood. He's a born coward."

Mikos started towards the older boy, "That's a lie. Nakael is not a coward. He's not afraid of anything."

The older boy pushed him, "Then he should prove it."

"I will." I said, "I'm not afraid."

Tumco handed me a piece of raw meat, "I knew you weren't." We climbed the fence to the Dragon's pen. Slowly I approached the pen. I whistled. Maybe the Dragons wouldn't come. For a moment, I hoped they wouldn't. What if they didn't like me? What if they saw me as an intruder. Suddenly a large red-and-black creature jumped in front of me, teeth gnashing in a most unpleasant smile.

"DROGON!" The mother of Dragons stood before the pit. The beast came to her almost immediately, "That's enough." The black Dragon purred like a young cat as she stroked his head, "Are the boys teasing you again."

"Khaleesi if I may," Tumco and the other Dothraki boys bowed before her. A strange sight to sure since they were all almost as tall she was, "The Lamb boys," he gestured at Mikos and myself, "Needed to prove their courage. Before the Dragons." My queen turned to me and smiled.

"Is that true, Nakael." I held my breath, I was surprised she even knew my name though I did recognize Missendei of the Isle of Naath and Tumco's eldest sister, Irri beside her.

"Yes, my queen."

"Then you must learn to greet my Dragons properly." She tossed a piece of meat to Tumco and nodded to him.

"Dracarys." He called and he whistled for the beast. Drogon didn't hesitate to set a small fire to the treat and tear it to pieces. He looked to me for a moment. I could have sworn he winked at me.

Mikos opened his hand expectantly. Our queen smiled indulgently and tossed him his own piece of meat.

"Dracarys." The yellow and white Dragon hit his head coming out of the pit and almost growled at my brother before Drogon's growl stopped him by an inch. Mikos shrieked happily as he dropped the meat to the ground and the beast devoured it.

Not afraid anymore, I picked up my piece of meat.

"Dracarys." The green dragon came from nowhere. It nudged my feet before eating. My fear gone, I touched the creature on the head. Its, his soft purrs, made me smile.

Emma Swan

"So let me get this straight. This kid is….how old again?"

"In three weeks time she'll be eighteen." Alice Kingsley was trying to concentrate on checking the map while still talking to the rest of us.

"Eighteen?" I threw my hands up, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. She really is just a kid."

Hook grinned at me, "You had a son at eighteen."

"Yeah." I relented, "In prison and I still had to wait ten years to either be a mother to him or be the savior."

"So how do we know we have the right queen?" Neil was trying to change the subject and failing epically.

"Do you see Dragons?" Mulan asked.

"Have you seen the flags around here?" I asked, "There are like a million of them around here."

"No." She explained, "I mean the real thing."

"You're kidding right?"

Suddenly a Dragon the size of a cart horse flew over our heads.

"Awesome!" Henry looked like this was the greatest thing that ever happened. I had to admit that it kind of was. I had never actually seen a Dragon before and between the gleaming black and red scales and the wings that shadowed the ground, it was enough to make any self-respecting fantasy fan geek out and any self-respecting emotionally stable human being jump fifty feet in the air. Neil actually jumped about a foot in the air. Scarlett ducked for cover. I pulled Henry back. Hook shrieked like a girl. Some of the Merrymen drew their bows. Gendry nearly fell over backward. However, Alice, Cyrus and Mulan seemed unfazed. Fascinated almost.

"The Dragons don't talk do they?"

"Talk?" Gendry recovered enough to snicker, "Are you mad they're animals."

"Of course." I grabbed the map from Alice, "So how does a kid who by all rights should still be in high school wind up conquering cities."

Road to Casterly Rock, Twenty-six years ago

"Just who are you the proud lord said,
That I must bow so low,
Only a cat of a different cloak that's all the truth I know,
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
A lion still has claws

And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
As long and sharp as yours"

The fourteen-year-old Prince Rhaegar looked from Ser Barristan to his mother's very pregnant belly. Rhaegar was not like other boys. He didn't always understand what was and wasn't supposed to say and do around others. But he did love his mother and he loved her baby. It was in part because he knew his mother had lost children before. He didn't want this one to die. He didn't look at King Aerys. He didn't want his father to hit him for not looking him square the eye. Or worse for not finishing the song. Rhaegar hated The Rains of Castamere. But Mother smiled at him and nodded encouragingly.

Reluctantly Rhaegar continued the song,

"And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
That lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his halls,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
And not a soul to hear."

"I love your voice, my son" Mother crooned as though Rhaegar had completed a great romantic ballad.

"I dislike that song." Mother's face fell, which made Rhaegar feel bad for saying what he had said, "I dislike singing of a savagery." As to be expected Aerys aimed for him, he loved The Rains of Castamere. He thought that murder was sign of strength. That was why now that he'd killed Qarlton Chesterfield, he wanted Tywin Lannister for his hand. Rhaegar ducked.

"Don't be a halfwit, boy." The King snarled, "That song is about how a man stays in power. Its words make your sister stronger."
"I have told you before my love that it is twins." Mother smiled, but only with her mouth. As she always did in Aerys' prescience.

"Don't contradict me, women!"
"I wrote Maester Aemon last week and described how Mother was carrying." Rhaegar would not allow the King to hit Mother when she was carrying. Not again. The last time she was carrying Aerys had hit her in the stomach for suggesting that it was a boy rather than a girl which would aid in keeping the bloodline pure and although Pycelle the False Maester (as Rhaegar always called him) had insisted it was because of the milk of the poppy she always drank (which the False Maester had given her no less, but he had sure to make it sound like the poppy had been Mother's doing) was why her moon blood came almost the next night, Uncle Aemon the Maester of the Night's Watch had told Rhaegar that this younger brother had in fact died by his father's hand.

"He said that because she was carrying low then it must be a boy. Father." It was out of spite that he added the last part. Aerys preferred to be called "Your Grace" even by his own family and in private. So Rhaegar called him "Father" to his face, but to himself and outside of The King's hearing he always called him, "Aerys" or "King Aerys" or "The King" or if the King had been particularly cruel to Rhaegar or to Mother or to Ser Barristan or the servants or the smallfolk, "King Scab" the nickname that the servants had called him for his habit of cutting himself on the Iron Throne.

This time, Rhaegar was actually willing to allow King Scab to hit him.

"We have reached Casterly Rock," Ser Barristan said before the King could "discipline" his son.

Before them was a castle that seemed to be almost carved from its mountain home. Tall and proud, Casterly Rock was the biggest and most ancient looking Castle Rhaegar had ever seen. According to the stories he had read, the Lannisters did not build this beautiful, terrible stronghold. Their ancestor, Lann the Clever had cheated the Casterly family out of it.

Has Lord Tywin ever earned anything? Rhaegar wondered , Or does he simply always cheat to gain what his family's wealth won't buy.

Rhaegar rode beside Ser Barristan on Small Balerion, his black stallion colt. Aside from Ser Barristan, the long-legged black bay with red streaks in his mane, was the closest thing the silent, solitary young prince had to a friend. Bal, as the stable boys had nicknamed him, was everything most humans weren't. He didn't only speak to Rhaegar because he was the Crown Prince or whisper behind his back that he was "odd" or had "the taint." He always listened to Rhaegar's songs and the stories he told willingly and without annoyance or boredom. And greatest of all, whenever Rhaegar was anxious from the bad smells or loud sounds of the shit pile that was King's Landing or upset about something he had read or something King Scab had done then Bal would be there to comfort him. Just one ride through the Kingswood would make everything make sense and feel right again. Before them stood an unsmiling man dressed in red and gold livery with a head of thick blonde hair. Beside him were two boys, no a boy and a girl, of about twelve dressed in the same colors as their father. They were both already taller than Rhaegar, especially the son who had straight golden locks and a wooden sword at his belt, he was smiling eagerly.

This is the sort of son King Scab would have wanted. Rhaegar thought without much anger. Lord Tywin's son seemed a decent sort. At least from afar. Rhaegar didn't care for the daughter though. She had a pinched petulant mouth that she had somehow arranged into a smile. Until she caught sight of him and developed the even more annoying swoony smile that girls always made when he rode by. King Scab got off his horse and Lord Tywin grasped his hand.
"Your Grace, Casterly Rock is yours."

Road between Yunkai and Mereen, Present Day

Daenerys Targaryen

Drogon is the largest of my children and for a reason I have never fully understood, I think of him as the eldest. He is, in many ways, like his namesake. He is always the first to come when called, the first to react when threatened, and the first to attack when hunting. But like Khal Drogo, he also has a gentle streak. Just as he is the first to attack, Drogon is also the first to show affection. Since he was a hatchling, I have loved most of all to hold him in my lap or on my shoulder for like my late husband he gives me warmth and courage and happiness. But his warmth is not just for me. My handmaidens have from the first aided me in caring for Drogon and for his brothers. I trust them more than I have ever trusted many people. As often as Drogon will climb onto or onto my shoulder, he will do the same with Irri or with one of her three younger brothers, Tumco, Fenno and little Temmo with his badly twisted legs. It was they that started the game of facing the Dragons back in the Red Waste and Drogon has always enjoyed playing it and making the boys believe that he is as fierce with them as he was with the Masters. When Irri first saw this, she apologized to me, but she didn't need to. Their game brought me joy. Drogon was also the first to befriend Missendei. After witnessing the Sack of Astapor, the Naathi girl was understandably weary of my children, but Drogon didn't hesitate to bring her a piece of meat he had hunted the very next night. Being a beast, he doesn't know that her people only eat fruit, never flesh but Missendei was moved and now she will occasionally join Irri and me in our games with them. However, Missendei's bond with Rhaegal is stronger. As is Jhiqui's. After Viserys gifted the two of them to me on my wedding day, Irri told me that Jhiqui's mother fell from her horse when she was with child with her, which is the Dothraki way of saying "simple". But Jhiqui is not simple, not truly. She was chosen to teach me the Dothraki language and knows the common tongue well, but she is very much like a child. She dislikes loud noises and bad smells and large groups of people, she knows almost as many words as Missendei and knows every horse in the herd by sight but never seems to remember to look a man in the eye. More often than not, Irri or Missendei or I or Doreah before her death at the hands of the Undying, have found her in the tent we all share curled up like a baby on the floor. Drogon has calmed her on occasion, as he has calmed me, but Rhaegal usually beats him to it. I named Rhaegal for my eldest brother, Rhaegar and for my son, Rhaego because his scales are green and bronze and Rhaegar died on the green banks of the Trident and Viserys told me, he used to collect rare plants with Elia Martell whose house colors are molten orange and red. Rhaegal is the middle of the three and he might be the most intelligent. While his brothers fight openly, he hides in the shadows, when Drogon and their smaller, brother, Viserion squabble over food, Rhaegal will hide and snatch the food from them when they don't notice. Rhaegal is good at hiding and loves to surprise people by appearing almost from nowhere. He also seems to know when one of us is sharing a story, as he will be quick to sit down beside us and listen intently with a look of childlike contentment in his eyes. Missendei loves to read, which is why they are close. Rhaegal will sit for hours listening while Missendei reads the books Ser Jorah gave me aloud. But that is not why he is close with Jhiqui. He is close with Jhiqui, because he is the same. Rhaegal fears loud noises and bad smells. He is distant with most people and hates to be touched by all safe for my handmaidens and me. That was why it was so touching earlier when he allowed Nakael to touch him on the head. But when Rhaegal is with Jhiqui, all of both their fears fade away. The two of them curl up in the same ball to comfort one another and all their pain seems to go away and they are both happy again. Viserion has yet to show signs of calming effect Drogon has on me or that Rhaegal has on Jhiqui. He is the smallest and coat in cream-and-gold and named for my brother, Viserys and like his namesake, he is ill-tempered. He is also likely to be the least intelligent. That's a bad combination. Viserion is a clumsy flyer and he has an unfortunate habit of knocking into things. And once Viserion knocks into things, he sets them on fire. Thankfully it hasn't happened with a person, a horse, or even one of his brothers yet, but Ser Jorah doesn't think it will be long before that occurs. He calls Viserion "the Bloody Terror". Despite his temper, the Bloody Terror is loyal to his brothers, in fact all of them are loyal to each other. Drogon is protective of Rhaegal and Viserion and often finishes their kills for them when they hunt. Rhaegal is among the few who can separate a fight between Drogon and Viserion. Viserion admires his brothers and wants to be like them. By now, all of the Khalasar and most of the Unsullied know my children long enough to identify them by temperament as well as color if not by names, but Daario Naharis has not bothered with such matters or to learn to understand them.

This became clear the day after my maids and I had played with my children and the boys. The day where everything changed. My children had just come back from hunting. Drogon came first as he always comes first and with the biggest slice of meat clutched between his talons. He stopped to greet each of the Unsullied and all of my bloodriders by playfully jumping on their shoulders and knocking them to the ground before landing before my small council and nuzzling me and each of my maids before dropping the meat before the feet of Jommo the Horsetrainer of the Khalasar who had been aiding in training my Dragons as well and climbing into my lap. Rhaegal was next as he is always next. He stopped briefly to drop half of the meat
he was carrying before one of the families of the Khalasar and then flying above all the rest before landing on the roof of my tent and climbing through the flap to rest on Missendei's shoulder. Viserion simply flew as fast as he could in a desperate effort (and failure) to outrun his brothers before knocking into the tent and setting it to flame (again) and sullenly edging out at the end of the small council tent and began to eat his prize.

Daario grinned his perfect grin, "The Beast respects me. That is why he did not attempt to make me submit." Rakharo elbowed Irri's twin brother, Kovarro and Grey Worm, the leader of the Unsullied, slapped his forehead in exasperation. Ser Jorah rolled his eyes.

"What?" the sellsword threw up his hands.

"Drogon doesn't do that to dominate, Daario Naharis." I told him.

"It's his idea of showing affection." Ser Jorah said crisply removing the section of the tent that Viserion had set on fire. Ser Jorah turned to give him an unfavorable look. In response Viserion attempted to climb into my lap. Drogon scooted out of the way to allow him his place there.

"It is known." Irri agreed sitting down next to me to give each Dragon a pat on the head.

"It is known," Missendei agreed shyly.

"It is known," said Jhiqui reaching out her arms so Rheagal would climb from Missendei's shoulder to hers.

As if to prove the point, Drogon snarled at Daario.

"Oh yes," Rakharo said to Kovarro in Dothraki, "The Beasts truly do respect the sellsword. The sellsword is their Khal."

"The Black Dragon is Khal." Kovarro responded, "He is Khal Drogo come again. It is known. The sellsword should learn that."

Just then Ser Barristan appeared at the door.

"Your grace." Drogon jumped on his shoulders playfully. Ser Barristan almost fell. He had only been with us for nearly six months, but I already knew that he was a good man. He had served my father faithfully and my grandfather before him. He then served King Robert the Usurper but I will not hold it against him. The Usurper's son, Joffrey banished him and that was his realization to go and find his rightful queen to serve. But Ser Barristan wants more than that. He has told all about my brother Rhaegar who believes would have made a great perhaps as great a king as King Aegon V, a king that he could follow. I hope not to let him down.

"I'm sorry for that, Ser." I whistled and Drogon flew back to my lap obediently while Ser Jorah reached out to steady him.

"It is no matter," Ser Barristan said, "There is a man here to see you."

Jafar

Slowly but I watched the Mother of Dragons enter the Throne Room. She was accompanied surely by her guards, Jorah the Slaver and the Eunuch Men and the Bloodriders. They annoyed me. They didn't need to be here. Neither did the Handmaidens, the sullen girl with the crippled brother, the glassy eyed girl and the quiet Naathi girl who spoke in so many languages. I hoped to get a private audience with the girl. She'd eluded me for too long. They all had really. The six Stark children and her. But Daenerys Stormborn had long since proved to be a specifically bad headache. First, Eddard Stark had taken her from me just after she was born. Then once I'd alerted King Robert of the situation and convinced her guardians to send her and brother with me, five years later the boy had stolen her and he had continued to rescue her from me. I thought that allowing her brother to go mad would fix the problem. He would become submissive to the darkness in his heart. But the Darkness wasn't enough to make him hand her over. Then when Illyrio Mopatis had found them and was going to sell me the girl, the boy picked Khal Drogo over me because he had a larger army and because he was one of the few in the world that could beat Gregor Clegane. Even Cora's little stunt in the Lhazarene village had failed to acquire her. Now here she was, before me, in all of her beautiful terrible glory. I would corrupt her now as I had her brother. She was weak now. Thick-headed and prone to wasting her talents. Instead of burning whole cities to the ground and taking slaves for herself she had freed them. No, there had to be weakness there. Weakness I could exploit. Weakness, I could conquer.

She chose the Naathi girl to introduce her, "You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Rightful Queen of Westeros. Breaker of Chains. Mother of Dragons."

"I am Lord Jafar." I said trying to sound humble, "Bastard Lord of the House of the House of Omaris. In Braavos."

"How can I help you." She asked me, putting her arm around one of the Handmaidens. The Glassy-eyed one.

"Actually your Grace," I kept my affable façade up, "I'm here to talk about how I can help you."

She regarded me for a moment, "Help me how?"

"I can defeat all your enemies, Your Grace." He explained, "I can destroy the cities who oppose you. I can reduce the soldiers who fight yours to death. I can destroy EVERYTHING that offends you. I can decimate the families that decimated yours, men, women and children."

The girl looked to her servants, "Can you help me take Mereen?" Her voice was trembling almost.

"Mereen?" I almost laughed, "Why waste your time on these worthless little jaunts? Everything you SHOULD be doing is back in Westeros. The enemies you must conquer the people you must kill. Your KINGDOM is all back there."

"You know your Grace," Jorah the Slaver said, "I somehow get the feeling that this man is working for the Masters."

"Don't listen to him, Your Grace," I tried to sound affable, I tried to sound nice.

"No," She said, "I don't have any reason to think that you are here to help me. After all you don't seem to find much wrong with killing woman and children."

There was a loud growl and suddenly her Dragons burst into the room.

"Alright then." Alright then, "I suppose that this must be done the hard way. And I do not relish the hard way." That was a lie, of course. I do relish the hard way. When I'm not a tight schedule in fact, I much prefer it to pleasantries. I whistled. Maleficent was larger than even the large Black Beast and I could already see her shadow fall over the tent. The Dragon Queen saw the shadow too. She gripped the hands of both the Naathi girl and the glassy eyed one who grabbed the sullen one's hand. The Black Beast could sense Maleficent. He was turned from me and he tore through the tent all the ease of blowing out a match.

Baelfire Weaver

"Let us through." Emma pushed obsessively against the tent door where the Eunuch Soldiers called the Unsullied were guarding the place, "Come on let us through."

I almost laughed, but she slugged me hard in the chest.

"Not funny, Neal really not funny!"

"You're doing it all wrong, Swan," Hook said.

"What?" Emma threw her hands up in annoyance, "WHAT EXACTLY AM I DOING WRONG?"

"Let me try speaking to them in a way they might better understand." He pushed in front of us and spoke to the soldier in a language that sounded somewhere between Greek, Latin and Gibberish. He turned back to us grinning sheepishly.

"And they're not letting us through."

"Why?" asked Alice, she turned to Cyrus and the Knave, "Maybe we could talk to them."

"We can't. They're otherwise occupied."

Emma threw her hands, "What, what exactly are they 'otherwise occupied' with?" A large purple Dragon suddenly shot into the air beating three smaller ones the size of dogs, one was black-and-red, one was green-and-bronze and one was cream-and-gold.

Daenerys Targaryen

I hadn't felt so much fear since the House of the Undying when I was surrounded by the Warlocks. I remember their prophecies, so well. Too well; Three fires must you light. One for Life. One for Death and One to Love. Three mounts must you ride. One to Bed, One to Dread, and One to Love. And three treasons must you know. One for Blood. One for Gold and One for Love. It wasn't that long ago. Not truly. But I felt fear then. A strange fear that no matter what I did, no matter what I tried, there would be no solution, I could not protect my people. The same fear I was feeling now, as I watched my children battle the large purple-and-black Dragon fighting above my head. With one hand, I clutched Jhiqui's. She was shaking in fear. Missendei grasped my other hand. Irri lingered behind Missendei , a hand on her shoulder. Rakharo, Kovarro, Ser Jorah and Grey Worm broke forward to protect us but golden snakes emerged from the tents pegs and pulled them back. Only Ser Barristan kept fighting. With his sword, he cut himself free from the bonds and tried then moved to cut Ser Jorah and the others free. But Jafar was cunning. With his awful Serpent Staff, he reached out. I felt Jhiqui's hand slowly rip from mine and her hands began to go to her throat.

"No!" I slammed my hands on the arms of the table, "Release her. Release ALL OF THEM and I will do whatever you ask."

"No, Your Grace." Ser Barristan stood before Jafar, "I cannot allow this man to win this battle. I made a promise to your brother and I intend to keep it."

"Barristan Selmy." Jafar regarded the old man with a look that could melt even great Wall of the North, "Coming between me and my plans again."

"I must do what is right." Ser Barristan said, "I will not fail her again."

Jafar threw up his hands, "Well in that case I'll probably have to kill you."

"No!" I began.

"Your Grace." Ser Barristan looked at me with a sad, sad smile, "It is what I was born to do." The brave old man turned and faced the sorcerer without fear. But my fear for him beat deep inside my chest, with the fear that all my people might die at the hands of this monster of a man. In the distance, I could hear the door to the hall opening, but I paid no mind. At least not at first.

Alice Kingsley

When we entered the hall, Jafar was standing right there before a whole court of innocent people. He was dueling an old man or rather the old man was hacking and hacking at him with a sword only to be knocked back again and again with his powerful magical staff. The old man kept fighting. He didn't back down. Jafar was crafty though. And I knew before I could properly see the battle, that he would not give in either.

"Stand aside, old man!" He hollered pushing back with his staff and the old man to the ground.

"I won't." The old man said, "I won't allow you to win!" Jafar's shoulder was unguarded for maybe a moment. Cyrus was gripping my hand. The old man jumped forward and plunged his sword into Jafar's momentarily unguarded shoulder. Jafar fell back, injured. He dropped his staff to the ground and upon seeing us grabbed it with his good arm and bashed it hard on the ground disappearing in a puff of smoke. For the briefest of moments, we thought that it was over. Until the old man who had fought him so valiantly fell to the ground, choking and a snake slithered from his mouth.

Casterly Rock, Twenty-six years ago

Reluctantly, Rhaegar stood before the Banquet at Casterly Rock, his harp, the harp which mother had given him, at his side. He hated performing in front of a room full of strangers and he was already wishing to escape. Lord Tywin's daughter, Cersei had spent the entire afternoon following him around, trailing her white filly after him and Bal when he tried to go riding in the forest, watching him and her twin brother, Jaime in the yard. Rhaegar didn't mind Jaime Lannister even if he'd kept him from disappearing into the library. That wasn't Jaime's fault. King Scab and Lord Tywin wanted to see the boys drill, so Rhaegar had to spar with Jaime. It was no surprise that the younger boy was better than he was. Rhaegar made a point of never picking up a sword except when King Scab made him. But Jaime Lannister was more than that. He was a prodigy. He moved like a cat with his sword cutting Rhaegar down with almost immediately. He wasn't boastful about it though. He simply helped Rhaegar up with a smile on his face that was not the least bit mocking. But King Scab had been furious and yelled that Rhaegar was a disgrace, no true Dragon.

King Daeron the Good, never picked up a sword. Rhaegar had thought, but he'd made the decision not say it out loud for mother's sake and for the baby's. Afterward, Ser Barristan had offered to help Rhaegar with his swordplay, but King Scab had found them and a made a disparaging comment about Dunk and Egg. Rhaegar thought that that had been in very bad taste, even by King Scab's usual standards as "Egg" was King Aegon the Fifth, his own father and Rhaegar's grandfather who was also one of the best kings the Seven Kingdoms had ever known for his kindness and protectiveness towards the smallfolk and "Dunk" was Ser Duncan the Tall, Egg's boyhood protector whom he had squired for and who eventually made Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Not to mention the fact that under Dunk's tutelage, Egg had become a Master Swordsman, while King Scab had never even won a tourney and had in fact lost to Ser Barristan. A lump formed in Rhaegar's throat as sang the last cruel verse of the horrid song, "The Rains of Castamere".

Dunk and Egg. He thought, I killed them. It wasn't true of course. Mother had told him that often enough. But he still had been born as Summerhall burned. Both Ser Duncan and Egg had been killed in the blast along with Uncle Duncan, Mother and King Scab's older brother and his wife, Jenny of Oldstones who would have been the first lowborn queen of the Seven Kingdoms and her unborn baby. The False Maester had claimed it was a botched attempt to hatch Dragons, but when Rhaegar had written to Maester Aemon and asked about it, Aemon had claimed that Egg would never have been so foolish as to hatch a Dragon when the Prince that was Promised had not yet been born.

Summerhall. Rhaegar looked for a moment at Mother, she was holding Lord Tywin's youngest son on her lap. The one Rhaegar had not met properly yet, the one Lady Joanna had died bringing into the world. His name was Tyrion and although you couldn't tell from this distance, he was in fact eight years old, too old for such things, but cursed with a disease which left him small and stunted from birth. Rhaegar had assumed that he was not at the gate when they arrived because he was too sick to come outside, but he'd heard later that Lord Tywin simply hated him and would not have him out in public. But he had relented and let Mother spend the day with him on behalf of her dearest friend. Thinking of Dunk and Egg had given Rhaegar an idea. Gripping his harp in one hand, he addressed the banquet.

"I would now like to sing two more songs." He said his voice shaking, "One of them is ancient song of the North that is one of my personal favorites and the other is a song that I, myself have written about ancestors long past" He sang the Northern song first, because he knew that it was the one Mother liked best and he thought that it didn't get enough credit for its deep and haunting beauty.

"Oooooh, I am the Last of the Giants,
My people are gone from the Earth.
The Last of the Great Mountain Giants,
Who ruled all the world at my birth.
Oh, the smallfolk have stolen my forest,
They've stolen my rivers and hills,
They've built a Great Wall through my valley,
And fished all the fish from my rills.
In stone halls they build their great fires,
In stone halls they forge their sharp steel.
Whilst I walk alone in the mountains,
With no true companion but tears.
They hunt me with dogs in the daylight,
They hunt me with torches by night.
For these men who are small can never stand all,
Whilst giants still walk in the light.
Oooooh, I am the LAST of the Giants,
so learn while the words of my song.
For when I am gone all the singing shall fade,
And silence shall last long and long."

Mother was crying. Young Tyrion looked fascinated. Jaime didn't seem to be paying much attention. King Aerys had a look of annoyance in his face. Cersei was weeping overdramatically. Lord Tywin merely straightened and gave an obviously false smile.

"While, your Grace how did you learn such a song."

"I have often written to my uncle, Maester Aemon." Rhaegar smiled quite sincerely, "He told about the song. He'd heard from the Free Folk."

"While," Lord Tywin said giving the King a look, "It was while….interesting." He almost spat the word.

"Thank you, my lord." Rhaegar liked singing even though he hated doing it in front of strangers, "I can skip the next song if you like." He would sing to Mother later when they were alone.

"NO!" Cersei insisted. Her father gave her a look, "I mean please, Your Grace I find your music so inviting." Rhaegar wasn't sure she had any idea what his previous song was about, but he decided it would be best if he humored her,

"High in the Halls of Kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts….
They sang her songs of days long gone by and old and broken hosts.
Some said she was mad. Some called her a witch. But young Jenny hadn't a care.
For the songs she would sing would oft come to pass like miracles of from the air.
One night in the dark a young man did come spellbound by Fair Jenny's songs,
So together they sang of ice and of fire and Danced the whole night long.
He carried her home to his great father's keep and wed her beneath the Laughing Trees.
Though she was lowborn without a House nor a name Jenny had home with much ease.
She and her ghosts would sing of a time when Dragons would return to the skies,
And of one special seed who would make it all so, beneath the Night's King's eyes."

Rhaegar paused for a moment, a part of him told didn't want to tell the next part of the song because it could upset Mother or worse because it would make King Scab angry enough to hit her. But no, Mother was smiling. She seemed to like this song. So for her and for the baby he finish it.

"High in the Halls of Kings who are gone, Jenny would Dance with her Prince,
The two of them were in love and hadn't a care all caution blown to the wind,
They Danced side by side in Lost Summerhall, away from flying eyes,
For there were those who had scorn that Jenny of Old,
Should wed to the Prince of Dragonflies,
Watching them from afar was a Ghost from her Keep,
Who sang to King Egg of a Heir,
A Special Child with a heart like Fire,
Who would bring to the Realm Great Dragons and Wolves,
And defeat evil beyond compare.
At Summerhall, seven Dragon's eggs were placed,
On an Altar given to the gods,
And all believed that the Prince's Sister's child,
Would be the one to fight the great odds,
It was said soon that Fair Jenny would birth,
A son of her own,
But on the day both babes were born there was a great cry,
That almost shook the Iron Throne,
Fire grew bright,
And the ground shook,
And the wind blew like a raven's call,
For there on that day before all that could see,
'Twas the Fall of Summerhall,
Ser Duncan the Tall bore the Princess away,
From of the flames of the falling Keep,
Then he returned to the Hall,
to save young Jenny as well,
But she would not answer his call,
So he held up the pillars with all of his might,
Until they finally had to fall.
High in the Halls of Kings, that are gone, they say Jenny dances still….
She watches us all from the world far beyond, and has bound the world to her will,"

He didn't stay. Or he barely managed not to. Rhaegar had always loved singing. He loved to make music come from his lips and his fingers. He loved the sound and the rhythmic, almost perfect way that songs could tell stories. But he didn't like singing in front of people. He never had. He didn't like people looking at him. Now he wondered if maybe he was wrong to have played the song he wrote. A song he knew King Scab and Lord Tywin would probably have hated. So he disappeared as quickly as possible from the Great Hall and attempted, unsuccessfully to flee to his chambers. Mother was there. She held out a hand. Reluctantly, Rhaegar went and sat beside her.
"That was a beautiful song, Rhaegar."
"Thank you," He mumbled. He was worried it would upset her. It was such a sad song. A song that was about such a sad time in her life.
"I would love you to play it for me again."
"Really?" Rhaegar didn't believe it.
"Why yes." She said, "Play it for the baby please."
"Now?"
"Yes now." Mother hugged him close, "Now. Would you like to listen too, Ser Barristan?" Rhaegar turned, the Knight was standing in the doorway.
"If pleases Your Grace." Rhaegar realized Ser Barristan meant him.
"It would please me, Ser." He said, "It would please me very much."

Road between Yunkai and Mereen, Present Day

Daenerys Targaryen

Ser Barristan was ill for three days. If "ill" truly was what you could call it. He lay on his bed fluttering somewhere between sleeping and waking. I sat there beside him, holding his hand, waiting for him to wake. There was a healer, named Cyrus who would attend him, but it did no good. Whatever the snake had done to him, there seemed to be no cure for it. Cyrus came up with a paste that was to revitalize Ser Barristan's strength, it was mixed with onions and berries and it smelled foul, but I personally gave it to him all the same. Missendei, Irri and Jhiqui all took turns helping me care for him, while Grey Worm and Rakharo stood guard outside the door. We would read to him at times. Cyrus came with a group of other people who we allowed to say despite our worries. Jafar could still come, at any moment he could come and then he would slowly carry my people away to the Nightlands. I forced myself not to think of such things. Or rather I tried to. Even my Dragons stayed with us. Drogon curled up in my lap, Rhaegal and Viserion sat on either side of me. It was on the third day that he woke and looked me straight in the eye.

"Your Grace." There were tears in his eyes. Maybe he knew then that he would die.

"Yes." My voice was shaking. I was trying not to cry, "Yes ser. I'm here."

Ser Barristan reached out and touched my face, "You are so like her. For a moment I almost thought you were her."

"Who?" But I knew. Somehow I had to. There was guilt then. I should have asked him about her. I should have asked him long ago. On the day we met even. How thoughtless of me.

"Your mother." His voice was shaking now, "I told you that I failed your father, but that was not the truth. It was your mother I failed and your brothers and Elia and the children and you. I entered King Robert's services because I believed that my service would spare you in your brother and allow you live in peace. But I was wrong. Yet I stayed because it was the only way I knew to keep you safe and do my duty. Jaime Lannister is not a wholly honorable man, but he is still braver than I ever was and he is still the best squire I ever trained."

My mind was reeling. Ser Jaime Lannister. He killed my father and yet I didn't hate him the way I hated King Robert who struck Rhaegar down on the Trident or his father, Lord Tywin whose men butchered Rhaegar's wife and children. Ser Jorah entered then. He put a hand on my shoulder.

"Khaleesi," He said, "Cyrus' men wish to speak with you. Now." Cyrus was with him.

"Not my men." He corrected, "And not all of them are men, but they do request an audience."

"I-I can't." Ser Jorah put both hands on my shoulders, "I'll stay with him. This will help ensure that what has happened to him will befall no one else." So I went. As a queen it was time for me to do right by my people.

Henry Mills

She wasn't much older than I am. I mean I knew she was eighteen, but it was only when I saw the Mother of Dragons was there before me walking with her right hand man in his leather armor that I saw how young eighteen really was. Her features were small, almost childlike. Her hair is white, but flecked with a darker gold and curls back in a never-ending wave. Her skin is a pale tan color. Her lips are deep pink and shine when she smiles. Her eyes are somewhere between blue and green, but from an angle they almost look purple. Her face is round, an almost perfect circle. She's also beautiful. Too beautiful. It's only recently that I started noticing girls. I used to think of them as vaguely different humans that could fill in on a baseball team when you couldn't find enough guys. But after Neverland, I started noticing when a girl's hair smelled pretty or when I liked her laugh or her smile. And this girl, this older girl was one of the prettiest girls I'd ever laid eyes on. Which made the fact that she looked like she wanted to kill us all somewhat awkward.

She approached my mom with eyes like fire. I don't know how she knew that Mom was our leader. Then again, maybe Cyrus told.

Her voice was shaking, "Who are you? And why have you come? Are you in league with Jafar?"

"Look, kid." Emma said, "We're healing your friend, aren't we?"

"Nothing you do is helping." She sounded angry, but also like she wanted to cry, "How do I know you're not making it worse to trick me into giving him what he wants."

"Lass does have a point." Said Hook.

Mom shook her head, "What if we proved it."

"How?" She had a look of distrust on her face, but somehow, I knew there was a part of her that believed we could prove it.

Cyrus spoke up, "Ask Ser Barristan, Your Grace. Or rather ask him about The Song of Ice and Fire."

"What?" That was kind of expected. On paper, our story sounded completely insane which was a kind of a bad thing considering the fact we were already in a super tight spot as it was. Her voice was still shaking. To make it worse, Gendry chose that exact moment to open his big stupid trap.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" She looked puzzled.

"Are you the Mad King's Daughter?"

"What?"

"The Mad King, the one who roasted men alive in their armor and put entire families to the torch."

She was definitely either going to cry for sure now, or murder him. Or both I couldn't figure out which would be worse.

"You shut up." Mom pushed Gendry back into my dad, but Daenerys was already running out of the room. I couldn't blame her. We'd just kind of made her already bad day a whole lot worse.

Daenerys Targaryen

I felt like such a fool.

"I should have known." Ser Jorah was standing with me over Ser Barristan. It was only a few hours later and he hadn't been awake, not truly awake since. The words that Cyrus' friend had said swirled back in forth in my mind, "I should have known."

"You weren't even born yet, Your Grace." Ser Jorah said, "You could not have known he was a mad man."

"But he was, wasn't he?"

Ser Jorah looked at me for the longest moment, "Do you truly wish to know."

"Yes." I gripped Ser Barristan's hand, "Tell me. I must know."

Slowly, reluctantly, he told me the story of his father's lord's son, Brandon Stark and his companions. He told me how when they came to meet Rhaegar on the field, my father took them hostage. He told me about how Brandon's father, Rickard Stark had demanded a trial by combat and my father had declared Fire to be his champion and had roasted Lord Rickard alive in his armor. And how he bound young Brandon to a device he bought from Tyrosh with a wet leathen cord until he strangled himself to death.

"He was a monster." I sniffled, "He was a monster and I hate him."

"He was your father, Khaleesi." Was he? Yes, he was. And Viserys was truly a fool to think that the smallfolk and Westeros were praying to think we were coming home. They probably sang the praises of the Usurper. They probably hoped we had both died in the storm over Dragonstone.

I should have known. All of our benefactors with their honeyed words. Ser Willem and his friends in the house with the Red Door. Viserys. Whenever they talked about our return to power in Westeros, it was always Rhaegar whose praises they sang. Rhaegar's cleverness. Rhaegar's kindness. The kind of king that Rhaegar would have been. Never a word of the kind of King, my father was.

Ser Jaime Lannister is not a wholly honorable man. Ser Barristan had said, But he is a braver man than me. It was your mother I failed.

I will kill the Usurper myself, Viserys had said at Magister Illyrio's Manse in Pentos before I wed Khal Drogo, For what his murder of my brother, Rhaegar and the Kingslayer too, for what he did to my father. Did that last part always sound like such an afterthought. Like something even my brother knew he was only saying for the sake of seeming stronger than he was. Then I remembered something worse. Something from when I was a child, before the Dragon ever woke. Viserys and I, sharing a bed in a brothel in Lys.

My brother screaming in his sleep, No, Father! Don't hurt them! Let them come with us. No, Father, please don't hurt the baby! Don't hurt, Mother! I'll be a good son, a good boy. I'll be loyal. I promise, just stop! STOP IT! PLEASE!

I must have been very young then. Six years, seven years. I remembered that I asked him about it not long after and that he'd told me that I simply had a nightmare and that he stopped sharing a bed with me or even a chamber if he could help it.

Ser Barristan opened up his eyes then and looked at us. Cyrus was in the door with his paste, but he didn't come in. Jhiqui was sitting on my left. Clutching my other hand. Not letting go. Rakharo and Grey Worm stood on either side of Cyrus. Missendei moved to take the paste from Cyrus, but Ser Barristan waved her off.

"Your Grace," He said again.

"You knew my father, didn't you?" I could hear my voice shaking, breaking almost, but I didn't care, "And my mother?"

"Yes."

I wanted to stop making him talk then.

"And yes," Ser Barristan said, "Your father was monster and he was called the Mad King and he did earn his name."

"Then why?" I was trying hard not to cry then, I could feel Jhiqui grabbing me by the arm to steady me, "Why did you come back? Why not just continue to serve the Us-King Robert?"

"King Robert was a good knight," Ser Barristan rasped, "But he was a terrible, terrible, king and his son, I could see your father in his son from the time he was a child. But your Father….your Father was cruel it is true, but he had wonderful children."

I managed to let out a rueful laugh, "And Viserys."

"Viserys," There were tears in Ser Barristan's eyes now, "I wish so dearly that I had been with you…..That your husband wouldn't had to have done…."

He was mourning my brother, that made not crying all the harder. I too had always wished partially that I could have somehow stopped Viserys from going mad. And Ser Barristan was so kind, so gentle. He had never known Drogo and it was clear then that he had loved Viserys, yet he lay no blame on my Khal for my brother's death. He lay it solely at his own feet.

"I ne-never would have served Robert, I knew that…it meant…..another Mad King." I thought for a moment that he was still speaking of Viserys, but then he said, "Even Viserys. Even at his worse, would have made a better king than Joffrey."

"Let us not speak of my family anymore, Ser," I had to know, "I must ask you, what is the Song of Ice and Fire."

Ser Barristan smiled ruefully, "I told Rhaegar it was a rash quest. Again and again, I told him, but the Dragon is a stubborn beast and he never listened and I see now that he was most certainly right. You are, Your Grace."

"What?" Drogon was sitting on my lap, but when I spoke then he recoiled in fear.

"Or rather you are a part of it…Rhaegar knew…Rhaegar and Elia….It was why they allowed the world to think….." He didn't speak for a moment or two then, "But enough of that, where did you hear of the Song. Could Viserys have told you?"

"Not Viserys." My mind went back to the House of the Undying. Rhaegar playing his silver-stringed harp. A young woman in a bed. Dressed in gold. Dark hair, light brown skin ,dark eyes. The woman must have been Elia. Elia Martell. Their baby son, Aegon.

Will you make a song for him? Elia had asked.

He has a song. Rhaegar had said, He is the Prince that was Promised and his is the Song of Ice and Fire.

"It was Cyrus." I said without thinking, perhaps because I only knew for sure with him, "Cyrus and the people with him. They say they are against Jafar."

"If they speak openly of the Song," Ser Barristan said, "Then they must be against him. For Jafar did not speak of it, then it must against his interests for you to know of its existence."

"What must I do?" I was crying now, or almost crying. Beside me, Jhiqui was weeping piteously, "He will never let my people be, will he?"

"Go to Westeros" Ser Barristan croaked, "Jafar is vindictive, but he is also intelligent. He will not attack your people if there is nothing for him to gain from it. If the Song of Ice and Fire is choosing now to be sung, then it is time you fulfilled it. There is but one way you can do this. And with luck it will do a good job to show them all that you are not like your father."

"What?" I asked, "What must I do?"

"Find the King in the North." Ser Barristan threw back his head then and lay still. He was dead.

Ser Jorah Mormont

As we watched her Handmaidens prepare Ser Barristan's broken body for burial, my queen asked the question which I somehow should have known was coming.

"Ser Jorah, who is the King in the North."

I shook my head, "So the rumors are true?"

"Rumors?" Daenerys looked at me with her large, childlike eyes.

"One hears things in Qarth," I said simply, "Sometimes in Slaver's Bay even. These rumors speak of how Lord Eddard Stark stood against the Lannisters for some when King Joffrey was crowned. For that, he was beheaded and the North apparently rose up with his eldest son, Robb as their leader and they crowned him King in the North."

"Why?" She asked me, "Why would Lord Eddard stand against the Lannisters? Isn't this Joffrey his friend's son?"

"Perhaps," I amended, "But to be to be honest it was said that the two of them hadn't been truly close for years. Since the Sack of Kingslanding."

"Because of Rhaegar's children."

"Perhaps." This was a truth that perhaps she needed to hear sooner, "But also because of the Mad King. Not because he died, mind you. By the old gods and the new, Lord Eddard knew as well as any other man there that the Mad King had to die. But he didn't think one of his own Kingsguard should have done the deed."

"Was he really so good?" Her voice was breaking now and I could see the little girl I knew in Pentos again.

"I wouldn't call him good," I said, though perhaps only through what still remained of my bitterness, "But he was honorable to a fault. I doubt he'd thought much of Robert's stunt with the wine merchant back in Vaes Dothrak. Particularly considering they both were like to know you were with child and for the sake of Robert's dignity, I can only imagine what he'd say if he learned that it happened in a sacred city. I can say for certain Khaleesi that considering Ser Barristan found himself unwanted in King Robert's Small Council Chamber then if you were spoken for, it was Lord Eddard Stark who spoke for you. "

"But you don't think that's why he had to die?"

I scratched the back of my head as I moved forward to help Grey Worm and Rakharo lift Ser Barristan's body, "No. Unless that plan was the Lannister woman's doing, but it is probably more like to be the Lannisters did something else. Something Lord Eddard couldn't stand by and watch."

"Like murder King Robert," She leaned forward and kissed Ser Barristan's cold cheek, "Ser Jorah, I am going to need to speak to Cyrus and the others. There's so much I need to know."

Casterly Rock, Twenty-six years ago

There was to be a tourney the next to honor the new baby and Lord Tywin's becoming Hand. So there was a ball. Rhaegar both loved and hated balls. He loved the sweet music and the dancing and how Mother would smile sadly during them. But he hated the crowds and the noise and he especially hated how he was always expected to dance with whichever girl he was asked to. Especially when the girl in question was Cersei Lannister. Cersei had insisted on dancing with him the entire night. She was a remarkably good dancer, but a truly abysmal partner. She spent almost all of their dances talking about one aimless, meaningless subject after another (usually whether he thought whichever thing aspect of appearance that he'd managed to complement here on was pleasing or not) or gushing about the Tourney. Rhaegar hated tourneys. He hated the noise and the smell and especially the blood. Rhaegar was not quite sure exactly what it was about blood he hated. The smell perhaps. Or the way it irritated the skin. The way men died when the lost too much of it. Or the way it was always, all over Mother when the babies died.

"I hope it lives." He found himself saying.

"What?" Cersei looked as though she had no idea of what he was talking about.

"My Mother's baby." He said, "My little brother or sister. I hope it lives."

"Even if it's an ugly little dwarf like Tyrion."

That annoyed Rhaegar, he still had not been able to speak with Tyrion Lannister, but he'd seen him more than once when he'd been reading in the library. Watched him so many times. But the moment it seemed their paths were to cross, one of them was always pulled away. But he'd seen the boy with Mother several times. And she was always smiling.

"Don't speak that way about your brother." Rhaegar felt his voice shake, the way it did when he argued with King Scab, "You don't know how my Mother gets when her babies die. You don't know how the King gets. How he hits her. How she cries. If this baby doesn't live then I don't know what my mother will do. I worry she won't be able to live anymore and throw herself from the tower of the Red Keep." Having said that was enough for him. Rhaegar stormed from the Great Hall before anyone else could see, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. He had no true understanding as to why he felt the need to share that deepest, most hated fear to Cersei Lannister of all people. He didn't know her and she didn't know him. Not really. They'd only known one another for two days. Rhaegar shook his head. He hoped that King Scab and Lord Tywin wouldn't force them to marry.

"You're standing on my moss." Said a voice. Rhaegar turned. It was a girl, tall and thin with olive brown skin and long black hair and reddish brown eyes. He inched off, not knowing what she meant.

"Your moss?"

"Yes." Said the girl matter of factually, "Don't you see?"

Rhaegar looked, on the tree on which he had been leaning a set of deep green moss glowing green in the moonlight.

"I recognize this from books." He said excitedly, "It's Foxfire."

The girl smiled, "The glowing moss of Casterly Rock. It's dim but it's bright enough to read by."

"And it grows almost nowhere else," Rhaegar remembered, "Not even in Essos."
"Exactly." The girl jumped up putting her hands on Rhaegar's shoulder, "I've been hoping to get a picture of it for so long."

"A picture."

The girl took out a small pad and paper and a well of green ink. She put up a finger and then went to work painting an almost perfect likeness to the Foxfire on the page, "There are so many plants that grow unbidden in these Seven Kingdoms. Some of them will one day disappear forever. If they cannot be saved then someone must remember them so one day they might grow again. But what should concern you about such things, Your Grace. Shouldn't be inside at the ball, dancing with Cersei Lannister?"

"I do not care for balls." He admitted, "Especially not balls where there is such…..noise."

"You best change that belief," advised the girl, "Before there will be more and more balls that you'll be forced to go to. So many long , long balls where all the highborn girls in the Seven Kingdoms will be competing in a tourney of love and beauty to see who will be Prince Rhaegar's Queen. Cersei Lannister will be so jealous"

"I shan't marry Cersei." As soon as he said it, he knew it to be true.

"Oh no." the girl laughed so hard she began to cough. Rhaegar ran to her side and steadied her, helping her to breathe.

Once she had caught her breath, the girl looked at him again, "So who then will be your Queen of Love and Beauty, if not Cersei Lannister? Are you as sure as your father that your mother carries a daughter?"

"No," Rhaegar said again, "If I do marry. It will not be to my sister, either."

"If?"

"I do not plan to get married." He admitted, "Not in less I fall in love with someone."
"Fall in love with someone?" She laughed, "Like Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones."

"Exactly." He said matter-of-factly, "I want to have someone who I can count on. Someone who's always there. Someone who listens and to whom I can listen and understand. Someone who makes me happy and who I can make happy. I don't want to taint the bloodline and say I'm keeping pure it with my sister and nor do I wish to spend my life with someone I can't stand for the sake of power." He paused for a moment, "For years I have hoped that Mother would give birth to a son who was intelligent and brave and selfless. Like Egg."

"Egg?" The girl laughed again. Rhaegar found he liked her laugh even if it was at his expense, "So you see yourself as Maester Aemon then."

"Why not?" He admitted, "The Wall has stood for thousands of years, but it won't hold forever. I would be serving the Realm there better than I could ever serve it from that stupid Iron Chair back in Kingslanding. I would be able to help and heal the Men of the Night's Watch. I would be able to travel beyond the Wall and broker peace with the Freefolk and see the Last of the Giants and make sure everyone remembers his song. Maybe I could even track down the Night King and strike him from his seat so that he never returns again."

"Our Crown Prince fancies himself the Last Hero," the girl said, "You actually believe those old stories to be true.

"Yes I do. " Rhaegar said, "And a part of me wishes to prove they are more than anything. But there is also a part of me that wishes to stay here and become King and give the Smallfolk everything they need. I could bring back everything Egg gave them in more. I would like very much to make these Seven Kingdoms a better, farer, place."

"You're a strange boy." The girl said studying him curiously, "I don't believe I've ever met anyone else who knew about Firefox but wasn't a Maester. Or anyone who actually wished to go to the Night's Watch. Do you know much about plants?"
"I know that they're very important." Rhaegar said, "I know that there are far too many that we haven't enough. I know that tansy can make a tea that takes away unwanted children and that jasmine can cure almost any ill. And I know that no matter what herbs my mother takes in her tea, none of them have helped her bear a living child. But I want to know more." He added, "I want to know which plants in these kingdoms need saving and how I want to know what all of them are used for and how. I want to know all about the nature of these Kingdoms if I have to rule them."

The girl put her hand on his shoulder, "That's a nice wish, but I don't think you'll be able to do much for this realm if you marry Cersei. My mother brought my little brother, Oberyn and me to see her little brother when he was born." She laughed ruefully, "He was a beautiful baby if a Dwarf but Cersei showed him to us like he was a carnival freak. She called him a monster and pinched him somewhere I can't repeat. Of course she was four years old then. Maybe she's changed."

"No." Rhaegar said, "She hasn't and I doubt she ever will." He realized he was crying again, "I heard my mother talking to one of her maids after Tyrion was born. She said that she would always mourn for Joanna, but she would give anything to make the sacrifice she made." Talking about his mother made him realize something, "You're Elia Martell, aren't Princess Nymeria's daughter."

"Yes," Elia said, "And if you truly wish to know so much about plants and you don't plan on dancing with Cersei Lannister. I can show you a thing or two about them." They were lying on the side of the mountain with Elia's book when Ser Barristan came and told them that his mother was brought to bed.

Rhaegar lingered by the door, Ser Barristan by his side. King Aerys was there too. Pacing nervously. Rhaegar was sure he heard him rant once or twice. The midwife came soon. She was holding a baby in her arms, a mewling, soft crying baby. A boy. King Aerys took one look at the child.
"Is that it?"
"No your Grace." Said the Midwife, "There are twins. A boy and a girl. The Queen is feeding the girl now."

"I wish to see the girl." The King said, "Now." The midwife went with King Scab, but now before laying the baby in Rhaegar's waiting arms. He was small and robust and he was still crying. Rhaegar rocked his brother and hummed, letting the baby hear the notes of "The Last of the Giants" on his breath.

This one will live. Rhaegar didn't know how he knew, but he did. This was a blessed baby. A lucky one. He wasn't too early, or too small, or too sudden. He was crying like any other babe. And Rhaegar loved him and he knew then that he loved his sister, this one's twin too. She wouldn't die either. She would live. They would both live. Rhaegar knew it.

"His name is Viserys." He told Ser Barristan, "After Viserys II, the Hand of Three Kings."
"He didn't rule for very long." Ser Barristan said.

"No." Rhaegar agreed, "But if none of the other babies live, he will be my joy, my light, and Mother's light too. Just like Viserys the second was to Aegon the third. Unless he already has a name."

"No." Ser Barristan said, "Your mother thought you would want to name him. But the girl has a name and we think she will live. Visenya."

There was a pulse of joy inside Rhaegar. He had two healthy siblings. Mother wouldn't ever have to have any children again. And now he was in love. Everything was perfect.

Suddenly there was a yell. Mother. Rhaegar handed Viserys to Ser Barristan. Mother was on her knees on the floor. She was clutching something that looked like a bundle of blankets. King Scab was standing over her. Screaming. Calling her a "stupid woman." Rhaegar knew then. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. Lord Tywin was there. His eyes cold. And Cersei. Cersei sat on the edge of the bed. Rhaegar could have sworn she was smiling. He ran from the room. Viserys was crying now. Louder than before. Maybe he knew. Or maybe it was just the noise. Rhaegar held out his hands and Ser Barristan laid Viserys.

"It's alright, little one." Rhaegar whispered, "Everything's going to be alright. I'm right here. I love you and Mother loves you. I'm always going to protect you. I promise." Realizing that this wasn't enough, he sang, "Oooooh, I am the Last of the Giants.
My people are gone from the Earth,
The Last of the Great Mountain Giants,
Who ruled all the earth at my birth…

Kingslanding, Present Day

Ser Loras Tyrell

I stood by the door, watching my sister have her measurements taken. She was getting them from the new weaver. Rumplestiltskin, I believe his name was. He must have been good as the Queen hadn't killed him or sent him to the Wall even though he'd been there for a week. I shifted myself from one foot to the other and tried not to think of the day Margery wed Renly. It should have been me wedding Renly of course. Handsome, sweet Renly with his straight black hair and deep, deep, green eyes. I had wanted more than anything to wed Renly and live happily ever after with him in a beautiful Castle by the Sea. But Stannis had ruined that. And now, Margery would be wedding Joffrey. Handsome Joffrey, angry Joffrey, cruel Joffrey. He would stop at nothing to hurt those he deemed his enemies. The Red Wedding was proof enough of that.

"The Red Wedding was dishonorable." The moment I'd said it, I knew it in my heart of hearts that I had committed treason.

Margery turned to the Weaver, "Leave us." She handed him a Golden Dragon for his silence.

Once the Lame Man had limped from the room, she turned to me, "Do you wish to get us all killed?"

"It was just an outburst."

Margery threw her hands up, "What if one of the Eunuch's 'little birds' was here? What if the Queen was here? What the King was here?" She put her hands on her hips and gave me a long angered look, "What would Nana say if she heard you?" She wasn't saying that Nana would care what I said. Just so long as I didn't say when certain people could hear. Not that such things ever bothered her.

"Besides," Margery pursed her lips, "We needed the Red Wedding. Maybe not with Renly we didn't, but do you think Robb Stark would let us live for my marriage to Joffrey if he lived? Do you think that bitch, Brienne of Tarth who unhorsed you, who killed Renly would speak for us? Do you think that that little stunt we pulled with Stannis would work on the Northmen?"
"No," I admitted.
"No." Margery agreed, "We have to do what's best to gain our place on the Iron Throne. So if the Lannisters do something like the Red Wedding, what right have we to call 'dishonorable'? We needed it. We sorely needed it," That night we ate dinner with the Queen Mother and the Martells, though of course Father wasn't there. The King was there, and his younger brother, Prince Tommen. A boy of twelve, he asked to sing for us.

"Fine." Joffrey said, "Sing but I pick the song."

"I don't want to sing 'The Rains of Castamere'," Tommen complained.
"Now, Darling," The Queen said, "You don't know that's what he'll pick."
Of course, that is what the King picked, Tommen stood before us on the pedestal, looking down on us with wary eyes and he sang the song he'd wished not sing,
"Just who are you the proud lord said,
That I must bow so low,
Only a cat of a different cloak that's all the truth I know,
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
A lion still has claws

And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
As long and sharp as yours" Tommen looked uncomfortably at the Queen for a moment. Joffrey was looking angry. The Queen smiled at her son.
Tommen continued, reluctantly, "And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
That lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his halls,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
And not a soul to hear."

Oh, Renly. I thought, What would do say if you saw me now? What would you say if you knew?

Harrenhal, Nineteen years ago

Ser Barristan watched the Crown Prince as he and his young daughter delicately picked the Blue Winter Rose from the soil of Harrenhal's hidden garden and potted it with soil and water. The Rose was a gift. One for Princess Elia's collection of rare plants. She and Rhaegar were putting together a Glasshouse like the ones in the North for Dragonstone and they were planning on gathering and breeding all of the rarest plants in the Realm. Perhaps this wasn't the time to ask him about the other Blue Winter Roses, the one Rhaegar and Rhaenys had made.

"It's perfect." Rhaegar said, kissing little Rhaenys on the head, "Now go find a special hiding place. Somewhere Mother won't look right away." She nodded and scampered off.

"I take that rose is the Crown of your true Queen of Love and Beauty." Ser Barristan said like a jape, but he knew that Rhaegar was cleverer than that.

"I felt for sure we'd have to go North of the Neck for it." The prince looked at the patch with fascination, "Yet here they were. I suppose one of the Lords of Harrenhal had a fondness for them. That crown of paper and paint was a promise. I was worried we would have to go all the way to Winterfell and the whole day would be wasted."
"I hear Lyanna Stark has a fondness for Blue Winter Roses." Ser Barristan knew that Rhaegar and Elia had come to the tourney for other reasons. Reasons that the Mad King had ruined by coming when Rhaegar was quite for sure that he wouldn't.

"Does, she?" Rhaegar shook his head, "I only gave her that crown because she earned it. If she should have won that stupid Tourney. Not me." The Prince smiled ruefully, "You know Elia, she would throw any crown away for the right flowers. I think she only needed to see the stupid thing to know the promise and now the promise is kept. And maybe the gods will allow us to put this folly behind us and start the plan anew."

"No one will forget about today." Ser Barristan said, "Especially not Robert Baratheon. He's betrothed to her, you know."

"Then someone should tell him I was only honoring his betrothed's bravery, nothing more and nothing less."

"Sometimes, I wonder." Ser Barristan said, "How so clever a prince can be so foolish."
Rhaegar laughed ruefully, "I suppose I get from my mother."

"I suppose so." Ser Barristan nodded, "Where will you and Elia go now? For your plans?"

"Dorne." Rhaegar was certain, Barristan could hear it in his voice, "It's the only safe place and Elia is determined that the baby be born there. Her mother's lucky castle, The Tower of Joy. Our son may be Lord there one day. Or Prince of Dragonstone"
But he's not like to sit the Iron Throne. Barristan thought without rancor. Rhaegar and Elia wanted very much for their daughter to be their heir.
"I must go now," Rhaegar said, "I should see where Rhaenys has hidden her mother's present."
Ser Barristan nodded and he laughed. As the Prince was leaving, he turned in the other direction looking out over the Riverlands daydreaming of the old days and Ser Duncan the Tall. Dreaming of Rhaella. She was never mine to lose. He thought ruefully. And yet they had a son. A son whom no one knew about. Suddenly someone jumped out in front of him. Ser Barristan looked, standing over him was a slight young girl in a blue and gray cloak. Lyanna Stark.

"I need to talk to the Prince." He knew which Prince she meant.
"He didn't know you had a fondness for Blue Winter Roses. He only gave you the Crown because he you should wear the laurel."
"Why should I care why he crowned me the bloody Queen of Love and Beauty," she said, "I need to talk to him about something else. It's urgent."

"He and his wife are leaving for Dorne."

"Dorne?" Lyanna Stark looked at him in awe, "This is because they're going to overthrow the Mad King isn't it?"

"I know nothing of such plots." Ser Barristan said, even though aside from Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Lewyn Martell he was the only Knight they'd trusted with the information, "You're talking about treason."

"They'll fail if I don't talk to them." The girl sounded serious enough that Ser Barristan couldn't help but believe her story, "Please you must believe me. The Fate of the Realm depends on it."

"You're sure." As mad as what she'd told him sounded, something inside Ser Barristan told him he had to believe her. When she looked at him with her guileless blue eyes, he relented despite his doubts, "Their chambers are on the fourth room on the left."

"Thank you," she kissed him on the cheek, "You will die for the children of the woman whom you love."

"I always knew that."

"Did you know that it will be on the day that the Serpent Man comes," she headed out in the direction he had sent, she stopped for a moment, "It was great to meet you, Ser. You're my favorite Knight in the Kingsguard when my little brother Benjen and I play such games, I always said I was you."

Road between Yunkai and Meereen; Present Day

Emma Swan

We watched the old man who had saved us burn, laid out on a funeral pyre topped with a brown flag decorated with three sheaves of yellow grain. Ever wonder how we get ourselves into these messes. Daenerys stood before the pyre and made a truly moving speech, at least for a kid her age.

"I didn't know Ser Barristan Selmy well, but I know the stories about him. I know that they called him Barristan the Bold and that he was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I know that he served three kings, my Grandfather, Aegon V, his son, my father, Aerys II and King Robert Baratheon for whatever he counts. I know that he knew my family and that I should have asked one million questions about them that never got to ask. I know that he was a good man, a loyal man who would everything he could to protect those to whom he was sworn and I know that he died not just for me, but for us. For all of us. I know that his dying wish was for me to go to my homeland and stand beside the King in the North and I know that this is what I must do for you. The man who has killed him will return and I can't protect you from him at least not while I'm here. But if I leave you, as much as it pains me then maybe, just maybe he'll leave you be. But I can't go alone. And I won't go until I know that the women and children and the old will be taken care of and protected. I want to know that they won't be in danger of being put back into chains. Now of the able-bodied men here who will stay and protect the Khalasar?" There was a barbaric roar of warriors stepping forward on their horses, a clang of shields and spears by eunuch soldiers.

"And who will cross the poison water with me?" I should mention now that it wasn't in English, but some made up language. Fortunately, Cyrus knew this made up language and was whispering the translation to us, I have to admit that I could tell what she meant, or most of what she meant from body language. Kind of. It was one of the maids with her, they were all standing with her on the top of the funeral pyre who spoke first.

"I thought she wanted the women and kids to stay home." I said. The other two joined in. The leader of the Eunuch soldiers stepped forward, and according to Cyrus offered half his men (the other half were apparently staying). Two of the burly Barbarian guys and a third who looked about thirty and that I hadn't noticed before stepped forward. Other Barbarians (though not as many) joined them.

Her right hand man put a hand on her shoulder, "I didn't leave the North under the best of circumstances" He said, "I'm not entirely sure if this is the right thing and the Gods alone know if my current situation will endear me to them. But I will fight beside you."

Everyone was looking to me. It seemed that they saw me as their leader. I stepped forward, the others following.
"We'll go too."