Chapter Eleven: The Plan to Launch One-Thousand Ships.
Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by George R.R. Martin, or his publishing company, or HBO.
OOOO
With Ser Crook posted firmly outside the door Lilith began to prepare her modestly sized chambers for what would prove a very trying ritual. The bomb used to attack Casterly Compound was a difficult thing to accomplish, but in a different way. Speaking with the dead required absolute focus, a steely resolution to sneak beyond the barriers of life without getting caught in between. For a very long time she leant against her windowsill while the sea breeze was blown into her pretty face. Golden locks whipping wildly, she waited until the afternoon sun sunk into its peak position over the Sunset Sea. Fingers trembling the girl lit every candle with a flick of her wrist, "Dracarys." Very adept by this point with memorizing the chants necessary to power spells Lilith began to sweep towards a spot on the floor. Not even needing to balance any massive grimoires in both arms.
Twisting gently down onto her bottom she stretched outwards with natural grace. The chants began to turn into whispers as a familiar cloud started to pulsate between both of those green eyes. Before finally falling into darkness her fingertips stretched upwards to where a bowl of repulsive liquid sat waiting. Everything grew incredibly black for several moments directly after that viscous substance flooded from head to belly. Her body twisted into awareness atop a coarse, rocky surface. Wind blew furiously across the Mallister's beach with roaring hisses cutting against Lilith's skin. Standing carefully her bare feet moved away from the pile of jagged stones upon which she had landed. "I knew you would look every bit like your father," A soft voice whispered entrancingly from behind, "Golden like a Westerland mine. Tall as a warrior should I am quite apologetic to see that you were forced to suffer with the Mallister figure."
Every inch of the witch's body was frozen tightly on the spot. Breaths would not pass, limbs refused to move, nor could her brain seem to comprehend that Laena Mallister stood behind her. They already met once before, but that was nothing like having a lucid conversation. Ghostly cold fingers suddenly caressed against the skin of her neck. "Turn around," Suddenly that tenor was as strong as Jason Mallister's, "You are the blood of my blood. Product of my womb. I will not have my own child refuse to look at me." Shaking violently the girl turned slowly to face her mother. "I have never seen a more beautiful face," Laena stuttered with brimming, blue-grey eyes. Waves of brown hair twirling tempestuously beneath the wind. Icy fingertips pressed gently across the smooth skin of Lilith's face.
"How did you meet my father?" Lilith blurted before she could even help herself. So many questions were brimming within her head, so many of them could be answered by this strange woman.
A serene smile spread across Laena's sharp, chiseled features. They sunk slowly to the ground while remaining linked tightly together. "I was a rebellious girl. Your grandfather forbade me from attending to any wounded soldiers who passed through Seagard, so I did anyways," Any wistfulness in her voice was bittersweet. "Walder was so different from any of those Lords that my father wished me to wed, but it was too late before I found out the truth. We were four months wedded when he admitted to actually being Walderan Tarbeck." Fingers snaked upwards to brush fondly through Lilith's golden mane. "The babe growing inside my belly would be the heir of two Houses crushed by Tywin Lannister. That cold fear of discovery caused any beauty of living a simple, common lifestyle to wither."
Lilith opened her mouth to ask another question, but her mother beat her to it. "I wanted for him to bring us all back to Seagard. So that my father and brother could protect us from harm, yet he argued that complete anonymity was safest." Her voice cracked, "My plan was to wait until you were safely delivered then ride back home. Though things did not work that way." Both of them knew or could guess at what got in the way of that fantasy. "In those last moments my only regret was that I would never get to see your emerald eyes. Or waves of golden hair. But I comforted myself with the knowledge that you would take my spirit." Voice cracking Laena continued, "No one with Mallister blood running through their veins would cower in hiding. We are fighters to the very end, and it is in our blood to persevere despite the odds."
They were silent for a little while until Lilith spoke up. "I feel like an idiot. All of the time," She admitted sorrowfully, "Father was killed by the Lannisters because of me." What followed was a long recollection of her journey from Sarsfield, to Lannisport, to Riverrun, and Seagard. Laena seemed most intrigued by the revelation that her daughter was such a powerful sorceress.
"I loved Walder dearly," The Mallister woman sighed, "But he was a fool to keep you hidden. Before your birth I warned him that secrecy was no everlasting shield, yet he refused to listen. Even this Maggy the Frog warned him and that Maester Ulric. She told them years ago that you would be born with an inescapable, uncontainable destiny." Tears were now certainly streaming across Lilith's skin, leaving red marks wherever they touched. "I forbid you from ever blaming yourself again. Walder was warned numerous times over the course of his life. Focus instead on learning from his mistakes, and never grow complacent while a Lannister is around."
"How do I defeat them though? One of the greatest Houses that Westeros has ever seen?" Lilith's tone was desperate. Hopeful that the woman holding her body would have at least some sort of advice. "The Westerlands must be crushed before any other Lords will support me. That is something which is far easier to speak of than actually accomplish. The Starks are absolute fools when it comes to political games, as are the Tullys. None of the Spicers can be trusted fully, not even Maggy. The Tyrells, Arryns, and probably even the Martells will be my foes soon enough as well."
"Your grandfather might be of more use than you can comprehend," Laena clarified quickly, "The Mallister one. Not that pious maester." An unreal breeze whipped the woman's brown locks about wildly. "He has quite a head for politics on both of his shoulders. Though his title also carries quite a bit of heft. When you prove your identity as my daughter he will throw his weight behind you. The strongest families in Westeros will no longer just see a presumed Tarbeck bastard, but a legitimate granddaughter of Jason Mallister who has some significant claims." The impact of Laena's words must have been quite visible, for it prompted a number of thoughts to race through her head. Lilith's ghostly mother vocalized them all easily, "The Tyrells would see you as a sensible method of conquering the Westerlands. Or you could wed a Volantene Triarch, a Sealord of Braavos, maybe even this Stark heir you sound so fond of." She leant closer inwards, "I am telling you to make good use of those who are loyal to your interests. Your grandfather will be one soon enough, Ellyn Reyne is a far keener mind than myself with whom you can always consult."
"How do I prove myself to… Lord Mallister?" Lilith asked while the pair stood to both of their feet. They were well aware the time was quickly approaching when she would need to return to the living realm again.
"I wrote a letter to your grandfather before I wedded your father. However, I could neither bring myself to burn the thing or leave it where he would ever find it. So instead I tucked it behind a loose stone in the wall beneath my window. Inside of my old chambers." As if about to relay an afterthought she added, "I wrapped a necklace around the scroll. One that he gave me. Show it to him as well." They both stared at one another as a noisy buzz started to descend upon the ghostly beach. "Remember how much I love you, Lilith. And one last thing." Here those grey-blue eyes turned into knives, "Never waste your energy on a slimy, Tully trout. You are worthy of far better."
A final kiss was pressed to the girl's cheek prior to her forceful return back into Seagard.
OOOO
Jason Mallister wondered if all witches were so audacious to skip a feast being held in their honor. Yes, Edmure Tully, the bonehead who would one day serve as his liege Lord was certainly important. However, no one deluded themselves into thinking he was more important than Lilith Tarbeck-Reyne. The beautiful, intelligent, gifted young woman was a force to be reckoned with. Not only were her much whispered-about powers worth consideration, but so were her allies. House Spicer was becoming a major entity simply by holding onto her coattails, as was House Westerling. He himself wondered what business the witch could have with Seagard. Already the impact of her influence over Robb Stark's campaign could be seen throughout Westeros.
In the North Wyman Manderly was already making massive gains in preparation of Lady Stark and Maege Mormont's imminent arrivals. Having liberated the lands around Moat Cailin, and laying the beginnings of a contentious siege. The Westerlands were held under divisive leadership with a sizeable fraction of Robb Stark's army maintaining a grip over Golden Tooth. In conjunction with most of Lady Lilith's reluctant vassals that meant that Tywin Lannister's loyalist forces would have to form a very tight union in order to regain total control. Then there was the formerly unified Vale. Cracking apart thanks to heavy interference from Lilith Tarbeck-Reyne, the Spicers, as well as the Westerlings. She was beginning to redefine the entire playing field in a radical, never-before-seen way. Political powerhouses were preparing to fight any changes off tooth and nail while Stark loyalists such as himself hoped for greater influence.
All machinations came to an end when the beautiful blonde marched into his dining hall. Despite that strange stain plastered across her clothing he imagined that any keep across Westeros would be proud to call her its Lady. Jason wondered momentarily if he were wily enough to wed the seemingly-intelligent girl into a marriage with Patrek? That all halted when she did not turn to take a seat at his side. Instead Robb Stark's witch marched right up to stand defiantly before him. Without a single pause she tossed something upon his still-empty plate. Then turning to address the bewildered assembly of garrison guards her triumphant voice boomed outwards, "My mother's identity has long been a mystery. Something my father, Walderan Tarbeck, never wished for me to know."
The Lord of Seagard opened the yellowed scroll with shaking fingers. A jewel encrusted necklace shaped like an eagle dangling from his white fist. Laena's necklace. How could a bastard from House Tarbeck have found such a precious, forgotten, lost thing? Both of those grey-blue eyes widened with deep disbelief at seeing his daughter's curled handwriting again. For the first time in years.
'Father-
I have little desire to wed a Frey, or Whent, or Edmure Tully. My heart aches instead for a golden haired Westerlander. The truth is that we secretly wedded within the sept, where you wedded my own mother, early this morning. Love has led me astray, and my mistake is hardly one that can be remedied. The symbol of House Mallister does not deserve to sit upon my unworthy neck. The neck of a woman who has spurned duty in favor of dishonor. Tell Westeros that I drowned in a marsh, or was swept away into the Sunset Sea. Anything to spare your reputation from my shameful actions. Do not cry for my absence, but instead keep in mind that I have found happiness. From within the arms of my Walder.
-Laena Mallister.
Tears threatened to burst from Jason Mallister's eyes. He was a Lord however, so any emotion was just barely concealed by a practiced mask of impassiveness. The man looked up those green eyes which were now staring expectantly down upon him. Deep in his heart Jason knew the horrible truth. Laena, his precious eaglet, had cast aside her noble blood for a Tarbeck posing as a commoner. No doubt she suffered some terrible consequence in result. Standing before him now was a Lady of Castamere and Tarbeck Hall. Nowhere close to being a bastard, but his lawful granddaughter. Who was waiting rather patiently for him to affirm what exactly she was alluding to for all of his knights to hear. Standing with pride despite the feelings which threatened to strike him down Jason Mallister announced something he never imagined would come from his mouth.
"Lady Lilith Tarbeck-Reyne has proven herself the lawful offspring of Laena Mallister," He paused for a very sharp moment, "She is my granddaughter."
OOOO
Eagles soared above Seagard, screeching with wild abandon within the perpetual mist. Lilith stood with both hands plastered against the railings of the battlements. She imagined the bells booming, tranquility disrupted, Ironborn raiding the coasts of her ancestors. Even after having been blessed with so much time to get used to the idea of Mallister blood running through her veins Lilith was still unfamiliar with the notion. "Do you understand what this means for your campaign?" Ulric asked as though he were speaking to a simpleton. "No longer are you a Hill. Now you are a true noblewoman! With-."
"Legitimate claims to Seagard, as well as whatever is left of Tarbeck Hall and Castamere. Along with a wealthy grandfather who is more than willing to assist me in securing a dowry." The girl spun around to face her Maester/grandfather who had spent nearly half-an-hour repeating the same conclusion aloud. "Starting to support my campaign, grandfather? Is it no longer quite such a lost cause?" Her tone grew serious, "I hardly know Lord Jason. It feels strange to call him family, nor do I even wish to marry which makes his offer of a dowry somewhat unnecessary."
A derisive snort came from Ulric's nose as he moved to lean against the wall next to her. "No one wishes to marry, Lilith," His tone was profound, "Not until Tywin Lannister is mounting siege weaponry outside of their keep. Your grandmother no doubt deeply regretted having not betrothed Cerelle. She perhaps even regretted having wedded Rohanne to a Tarbeck cousin. This game you have embarked upon does not take into account our desires whatsoever." Both of them stared out into the misty sky, "It is a matter of who can become the strongest player before they find themself trapped inside of a castle. While lions prowl outside." He gripped her hand gently into his own, "Give Lord Mallister a chance. From what I hear he loved Laena deeply. No doubt the man is very happy to have some sort of connection with her again."
They stood in companionable silence simply enjoying being together again after having thought one another dead for so long. A familiar voice was nearing, yet neither of them really needed to turn for a look. "Well, at least this gives you a better opportunity to trap Edmure Tully on your fishing line," Ulric sniped somewhat sneeringly.
"I changed my mind about that," Lilith smiled down at the short man, "Recently I have realized that I am worth more than some slimy trout."
"What are you worth then?" Ulric kept their banter going despite the Tully heir's imminent arrival. A taunting smile and kiss on his cheek were the only things that he was given in response.
"Lady Lilith," Lord Edmure approached them both, "Maester Ulric." He seemed more than eager for another round of flirting. "Lord Mallister has requested your presence in his solar. I offered to escort you myself." The witch almost felt bad for what was about to happen seeing how cheerily eager he was.
"I know the way already, but my grandfather wished to take a trip to the beach," She smiled winningly, "Thank you for always being so helpful, Lord Edmure." No gentle grazes against his armored person occurred this time as she swept along. Walking through the halls of Seagard presented another matter to contend with. Servants curtseyed upon passing her by. Lilith felt it was strange to be addressed in such a way, allowing herself to wonder what it would be like to walk the halls of Castamere, or Tarbeck Hall. Every curtly pronounced
'milady was a reassertion of the fact that she belonged at Seagard. That it could possibly even serve as a surrogate home of sorts. Finally arriving inside of Lord Mallister's solar Lilith knocked somewhat nervously. Aside from their awkward conversation the night before, with a surprising amount of focus on dowries, she did not have any idea what to expect.
"Enter," Came the surprisingly fearsome voice she should have anticipated. Jason Mallister was the Lord of Seagard after all, so an imposing atmosphere seemed necessary for the position. Stepping hesitantly inside she noted that the luxurious room was more of a study than sitting area. Her maternal grandfather was sitting at his massive, oak desk with an expectant look upon his face. Sweeping across the spacious room Lilith took a graceful seat in the chair across from him. "Do you know how to use that sword?" The older man asked curiously, motioning towards where the Father's Gift was strapped to her hip.
"My father made certain I could defend myself," She affirmed, "Nobody has beaten me in a fair fight yet."
He smiled a sorrowful expression, "Patrek, your uncle, never managed to become much of a swordsman. He always prefered his mace." Some sort of speculative gleam entered the man's gaze, "Laena would have made a fantastic swordswoman, I wager. That Mallister spirit was simply too strong, far too irrepressible for defeat." Any emotion left his gaze when he caught sight of her curious, green gaze. "Enough about ghosts," He declared sharply, "We have to focus on ourselves, or we will share the same fate." Now a semi-taunting expression flashed across his bearded face. "Did Lord Edmure ever escort you to my solar?"
"I directed him to another task," Lilith answered easily enough, without mentioning slimy trouts. From what knowledge she had gained the Mallisters were extremely loyal to the Tullys.
"Good," The Lord smiled approvingly, "I was attempting to measure your common sense. Tullys are excellent matches for plain Freys, but your prospects are far greater." He leant into the massive, oak chair which supported his heavy frame. "We are bound," His voice contained quite a bit of seriousness, "Before if Robb Stark lost the war I would have been burdened with unfair taxes at most. Now that our blood connection has been revealed the consequences would mean eradication. Remember, Tullys are hardly the most advantageous marriage available to us."
"There are affairs which must be set into order at Seagard as well," Lilith tried to change the somewhat uncomfortable topic. "I convinced Robb Stark that the Lefford gold we captured should primarily be directed towards building a Northern fleet. Lord Manderly has agreed to assist with this plan." She crossed a leg, "That would prove a lost, strategic opportunity, however." He motioned for her to continue, clearly intrigued no matter how hard he attempted to conceal it. "Seagard is the perfect location to build part of this fleet. Not only would it prove of immeasurable use in staving off the Ironborn, but we could accomplish one of my more audacious plans." Standing to both feet she stepped easily over to where a map was spread across one of the solar's many tables. Her Lordly grandfather followed. "Banefort, Faircastle, Kayce, Feastfires, and perhaps even Crakehall. Almost all are poorly garrisoned, ripe for the picking," She flashed a charming expression in his direction, "Then the Ironborn will only be too happy to pick at the scraps while Maege Mormont and Wyman Manderly drive them south."
"You are asking a lot of me," His voice sounded too canderous for comfort, "We happen to be at war right now. Just to even come anywhere near accomplishing such a task as raiding the Westerland coast would require a year at least of shipbuilding."
A wry smile twisted the pretty girl's pink lips as she gazed at the Lord of Seagard. "I suppose now is the time to tell you what Robb Stark has offered in exchange for such a great service," Her green eyes flickered with glee. This was where Lilith truly excelled. Cutting deals with Westeros's mightiest Lords happened to be her forte, not awkward reunions with estranged relatives. "You will be given a quarter of the Golden Tooth's gold to expedite this process, almost three million dragons." This statement caused his white brows to rise incredibly high. "Additionally, I have convinced his grace that such a task requires Seagard to maintain a much stronger garrison. You will be given more than two-hundred men. Half of whom journeyed here with me, and were secretly transporting the Lefford gold."
Silence fell for a very long period of time. "I have connections with some of the finest shipwrights in Essos," Lord Jason began to promise, "That gold will get you slightly more than sixty ships in half a year." He paused, "How many other plans do you have stewing towards fruition?"
"Tywin Lannister taught my bloodline a great deal of lessons," Lilith stared shrewdly at her grandfather, "And he never deigns to scheme where spies could be lurking." That was the absolute truth, of course. In all of those times that she had watched the Lord of Casterly Rock through Projections he kept both lips sealed shut. Despite her relative newness to the political scene Lilith was wise enough to have realized that certain things should never be spoken aloud. Winning cards often turned out to be those that were kept closest to one's heart.
"Perhaps you will keep quiet, but I have plenty of my own plans to share with you." At this point it was the girl's turn to follow her grandfather back to his desk. "You have a distant cousin, Lyra, granddaughter of my uncle Ser Denys who is currently a brother of the Night's Watch. Using the incredible amount of influence that you have proven tenfold to wield over Robb Stark I ask that she be wedded to Brynden Tully." Both of Lilith's green eyes popped open in shocked surprise. "In exchange he shall be installed as castellan of Harrenhal, which I hear you were given by Robb Stark. Now that the Whents are finally gone it is time we put that shithole to good use and repair it."
"But what use would that prove to be?" Lilith demanded of the man, hardly seeing the point in such an undertaking. "Restoring Harrenhal would cost Riverrun, Seagard, and whatever is left of Castamere an arm and leg each!"
"For too long I have watched while the Tullys ignore an increasingly volatile situation," Jason responded. "There is no desire in my heart to rule over the Riverlands, but I also refuse to watch the Freys take control either. Our House is already bound to the Tullys through marriage many times over, yet we both lack the strength necessary to form a meaningful alliance." Everything finally started to fit together in Lilith's sharp mind. "The sort that both obeys respect and ensures that there will be stability in this kingdom. Harrenhal presides over the most fertile lands in Westeros though it has been neglected for centuries. Imagine the quantity of resources and number of soldiers it could produce when put back into its former glory."
"You want to turn it back into an impregnable fortress," Lilith interjected, "The sort that no army could hope to lay an effective siege upon." She felt her pulse starting to pound at the sheer magnitude of her grandfather's vision. "No House would ever dare to rise against Seagard or Riverrun with a Mallister-Tully bloodline presiding over such a structure. Not even Walder Frey could prove to be so impetuous." Further realizations continued to pour outwards, "With the Westerland side conquered by myself we could re-establish Harrenhal as some form of a defensive barrier against the other southern kingdoms." Strange, her head started to pound, that the broken castle managed to fall into her palms so easily. That Lord Mallister's plan was coming together with such astonishing ease.
"This would be far too costly of a feat for the Riverlands to accomplish individually, which is where your support comes into play," He continued. "The Westerlands, Riverlands, and that sliver of the Vale you managed to sway beneath Robb Stark's banner will all be more than able to find success." Lilith always imagined prior to that moment that her cunning came from the thorough education Ulric provided to her. Now she was starting to imagine that perhaps a bit of it was simply in her blood. Mayhaps it was a Mallister trait to turn whatever they were given into a much grander opportunity.
"As well as the support of whomever you have been contemplating that I should wed myself to," The witch added tentatively. Though the subject was hardly one that she wished to broach it needed to be done. Jason Mallister was proving himself an incredibly perceptive man, far more artful than herself. Besides that, Lilith knew this was not a gift to avoid as she would no longer need to depend so heavily upon Rolph Spicer's support.
"The Tyrells have already formed a betrothal between Joffrey Rivers and Margaery Tyrell," He sneered at the change of events, "Leaving Willas Tyrell solidly out of the running. Though I never would have contemplated them at all. The Tyrells have no sense of loyalty whatsoever."
"Why not a Hightower?" Lilith wondered in earnest curiosity.
"You are worth far more than that," The man insisted in response, "Only one of the Great Houses would ever do. Perhaps the sickly boy-Lord Robyn Arryn, definitely not a Martell, but maybe Robb Stark would be of more interest to you." All of these names seemed to tick off down the list in her brain until he arrived at the King in the North's. Fighting a rising flush she simply glared at her Lordly grandfather who merely raised his brow in response. "You are a beautiful, powerful maiden and he is the dashing epitome of honorability. Do you really expect that I cannot deduce that you both have at least some form of romantic connection?"
Wanting to gag at discussing her highly inappropriate feelings for Robb Stark with her grandfather Lilith bit back. "He is betrothed to a Frey." They argued over the idea for a very long while. Much like Ellyn Reyne, Jason Mallister felt it best that she connive the young King into bedding and wedding her. Insisting that such a move would leave all three kingdoms fully bound after the Lannisters were finally deposed. She countered that it was hardly safe to spit at the feet of the Freys until Harrenhal was towering into the sky once more. Eventually these conversations were exhausted resulting in Lilith exiting his solar late in the evening. Images of marriage to Robb Stark plaguing her every thought as she scurried away towards isolation.
OOOO
The earth for miles was swampy wasteland. Bubbling with foulness, but also emitting the cold of Northern winter. She stood atop the half-ruined, half-restructured battlements while staring down into the causeway. Moat Cailin was certainly shaping up into one of the greatest strongholds of the North. Even Winterfell struggled to compete with the mystical fortress originally built by the First Men. Her leather-clad feet creaked as she spun to face the results of her hard labors. While the stronghold was still nowhere near its former glory none could deny that what had been accomplished happened to be extraordinary.
Ten of the original twenty towers now stood high against the very white, Northern sky. Diverse trade thrived inside of this compact space as every House within the Neck brought their respective goods to market. The influx of swampland fish, rare lumber, exotic skins and pelts, bog iron, peet, and sometimes even poisons, caused an economic boom to strike the region. Merchants now flocked to the recently developed metropolis, dropping taxes as they entered the North. Over the course of the last decade population began to boom hinting at a fearsome army to come.
She was no longer a victim. No longer an idiot. Sansa Stark was now the Lady Defender of the Crannogmen and Neck. Her treasury was crammed with enough gold to make the Tyrells salivate in jealousy. The formerly ruined, basalt curtain of Moat Cailin stood as tall as those of Winterfell for the first time in a millennia. Even House Reed could recognize that her accomplishments far outpaced any Greywater Watch had contributed to the region throughout their entire tenure. When the voices of her childhood began to lash outwards with devastating blows Sansa simply stared at her achievement. Cersei Lannister was nothing, Joffrey Rivers was nothing, Petyr Baelish, all those tittering Tyrells… The list went on for pages. Most of those names belonged to the dead while what remained would find much more comfort in death than life.
While they all rotted away the Tully-haired beauty peered down at her dominion from one of the grandest keeps in Westeros. "You have done well for yourself," Came a voice from the shadows. Falling snow only added to the mysterious aura of Moat Cailin's most recent visitor. A graceful pair of feet took several, sharp steps to stand beside the Wardness of the Neck. Gazes of green and blue peered into the distant tangles of marshy treetops. "I remember this place as three crooked, ruined towers. Now it is easy to see that you will not stop until all twenty are standing once more."
"We are nearly finished with the castle," Sansa's tone was factual, as though giving a report to her superior. "Then the last few towers shall be easily finished in the next two years." She turned to size up the witch of the Westerlands. "No army shall ever pass through my fortress, Lady Lilith," She spoke with glacial honesty. Golden hair swirling in the cold wind, venomous face capable of seeing through any lie. Only the truth was ever to be spoken around this particular woman. They stood in silence for a very long while.
"This was always inside of you, Sansa," The witch remarked, "That sort of steel which can accomplish great things. I saw it back when we were both in King's Landing, and I can still see it now." Such a compliment was not to be taken lightly, not when it came from the deadliest woman Westeros had ever seen.
A wicked smile flashed across Sansa Stark's pretty face as they shared conspiratorial looks.
Sansa Stark was woken from this dream in King's Landing only moments later. Dawn filtered through the windows signalling a very long day to come. Searing pain seemed to be the culprit behind this premature awakening, and the girl found herself disappointed that the sore spots were still so agitated. Hunching to both feet despite the agony she recalled how Joffrey subjected her to the most vicious beating yet. Despite Tyrion Lannister's intervention nothing seemed capable of tempering his nephew's hatred for the witch of Tarbeck-Reyne. Every time Robb Stark's Westerland ally outmaneuvered the Lannisters with some ingenious plan Sansa found herself punished. Severely.
Patches of yellow bruises still remained from the fall of Golden Tooth. Smatterings of violet welts were a brutal reminder of how fifteen-thousand Vale men split from House Arryn to join with the Starks. Effectively blocking any advances the Tyrell army was attempting to make on the southeastern side of the Riverlands. The black eye which now marred her pretty face followed after news reached King's Landing that Jason Mallister recognized Lilith Tarbeck-Reyne as his trueborn granddaughter. Solidifying the witch's position substantially as well as increasing the threat posed to Casterly Rock tenfold. Already there were rumors of peasants flocking to Golden Tooth so they could fight for the fallen Lady raised in a Sarsfield cottage. They proclaimed her one of their own.
Strangely enough Sansa Stark found herself having the most vivid dreams about this revolutionary noblewoman. Unnatural scenes based primarily in the future. Despite having shunned them as foolery for so much of her life the redhead now found herself pondering Old Nan's stories. Tales from when the North was still a wild, mystical land filled with ancient magic. Green seers could peer into the future. Despite her pious mother's warnings that sorcery was evil Sansa could not help but embrace these visions. She enjoyed seeing Moat Cailin rise from ruins to a profitable stronghold, watching a Northern Fleet of more than three-hundred ships glide across the Narrow Sea, and observing how powerful her House could become.
How powerful she could possibly become. Lilith Tarbeck-Reyne's words rung sweetly through Sansa's bruised head as she peered through the window. The steel was always inside of her. Even here, in King's Landing. Sharp enough to raise Moat Cailin, and certainly sharp enough to make a few lions bleed. Smiling triumphantly the young Lady enjoyed the rising sun while contemplating some of her darkest fantasies.
"I will avenge you father," Sansa forced her voice to be strong, "I promise."
OOOO
Next Chapter: Misery Breeds Fortune.