AN: So been a while hasn't it. What can I say I just didn't have the inclination or the inspiration to write until today. But still I got it out eventually, I hope you all enjoy it and leave a comment or a review.
Thanks a lot for reading.
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or Percy Jackson.
( - )
(Last Time)
"As you say." Davos replied with a bow, before he turned to head off and get some men and a rowing boat so that he could head over to one of the other ships and begin moving them down the coast, as per his Lord's orders.
"So we are finally here." Stannis muttered, watching Davos go for a moment, before he then turned to look at the massive port city of Qarth.
"Yes, and by the Lord of Light's we will find the aid we require and forge the alliances we will need to purge the servants of the Dark One from Westeros." Melisandre replied passionately gripping Stannis hands as she did so, before she then laid a hot kiss on his thin lips. "And then we can prepare for the Long Night, my Azor Ahai."
Stannis nodded at that, his gaze firm and resolve unshakeable, even as his lips curled upwards into a smirk.
( - )
Chapter 21
( - )
(In Dorne)
"So this is the vaunted Viserys Targaryen is it, the future King of the Seven Kingdoms?" Oberyn Martell asked, a hint of mockery in his tone as he eyed Viserys up and down, clearly unimpressed with the white haired Targaryen. The Prince of Dorne looking almost the complete opposite of Viserys with his olive coloured skin, thick black hair, shrewd dark eyes and lean, athletic physique. Even the way he spoke was completely different to Viserys, with Oberyn's voice coming out deeper, and more confident, with it also holding a certain slyness to it as he continued to eye the silver haired Targaryen up and down.
"Prince Oberyn I presume?" Viserys shot back in his own reedier, higher pitched, slightly nasally voice, skipping over the older man's question as he instead eyed the other man up and down too. For all that Oberyn Martell was proclaimed to be a mighty warrior, he didn't look the part. Instead with his expensive silk clothing and slim build, he looked like little more than a simple oversexed noble, very much like those Viserys had met across the Narrow Sea.
"Come on now, manners my King." Ivar spoke up next, the blonde former native of the Vale having shrugged off his own armour now in favour of a thin linen tunic, though he hadn't dispensed with the sword and dagger he had belted at his hip, nor with the spear that he was idly leaning against as he observed the meeting between Dornish Prince and the would be King. "Prince Oberyn has come a long way to see you, at least try to be diplomatic."
Viserys shot Ivar a sharp look at those words, but said nothing more when he saw the cool, unimpressed look the blonde cutthroat replied with.
"Yes the journey to the Tower of Joy has been long. I am just hopeful that it is not time wasted." Oberyn suddenly chipped in again, his dark eyes flashing from the young King to his older, far more dangerous looking swornsword, before he looked back to his own guard.
Which consisted of a dozen armed and armoured Dornish men, all of whom were shifting around uncomfortably under the gazes of numerous armed men inhabiting the Tower of Joy, already he was regretting not bringing more with him just in case negotiations ended poorly.
"It won't be, I can promise you that much." Viserys replied with an attempt at a confident and sincere smile. "I have come to Dorne with an offer, an opportunity. One which would see House Martell elevated above all others!"
"Oh, and what is this offer?" Oberyn replied with a cocked eyebrow, his gaze boring into the gaunt, Targaryen's own overly bright violet orbs.
Viserys's smile seemed to widen as he heard this. "Now that I, the true and legitimate King of the Seven Kingdoms have returned to Westeros, the time is ripe for the Targaryens to be reinstated to their proper place."
"You want the Iron Throne then." Oberyn grunted, the curiousity sliding off his face now, with it instead being replaced by a look of boredom. "How would that help Dorne?"
Viserys's eyes sharpened at that comment, his lips curling upwards minutely at what he deemed to be an insult. But only for a moment though before he gathered himself, his lips twisting back into an attempt at an inviting smile. "Well for one by helping me reclaim my birth right you will have favour with the King, you will also get the opportunity to slaughter the Lannister's for their actions towards both your family and mine. But of course there is more than that, I am sure more than a few Houses will turn traitor and try and support the usurper Tytan Baratheon. These families will of course need to be exterminated, which will incidentally leave their lands free and open for the taking, for those who chose to assist a generous King"
"So you offer land, riches, influence and revenge, in return for what?" Oberyn asked, a glimmer of interest entering his gaze now. "What exactly is it that you want from Dorne?"
Oberyn's older brother Doran might be satisfied with the punishment Tytan had given both the Mountain and Amory Lorch, but Oberyn wasn't. So long as either of the men still drew breath he would never be satisfied. Similarly for the puppet master Tywin Lannister, the man he deemed just as guilty for the death of his sister and the murder of her children.
Tytan Baratheon might have neutered the Mountain and sent him to rot at the Wall, but he had not said a thing against his grandfather, nor made a move since becoming King.
"Dorne's help in retaking the throne. With the assistance of Dorne's navy, army, agents and contacts, I will be able to draw in more supporters, those who are dissatisfied under the tyrannical rule of the Baratheon's, and who hunger for the days of old, the golden days under Targaryen rule." Viserys replied, his tone filled with almost fanatical passion as he locked gazes with Oberyn.
Oberyn cocked his head to the side as he heard this spiel, his dark eyes flickering over Viserys's shoulder to the several dozen armed and dangerous looking men. There were not many of them, but it was a start. "And what about when the King hears of what we are doing and rides out to put an end to our rebellion before it can even start? He is not known as Tytan the Blessed for nothing, surely you've heard of the divine gifts the Seven have bestowed him with? On top of that from what I've heard he has a now dragon too!"
"Tytan will not be an issue." Ivar cut in now, attracting the attention of both nobles now as he leant his spear against a nearby table and walked over so he was standing opposite the two men, the three of them standing in a triangle.
"And how do you figure that…?" Oberyn asked, before he trailed off as he remembered he didn't catch the man's name.
"Ivar," Ivar replied with a smirk, giving a short and almost mocking bow to Oberyn before he stood up and met the man's gaze easily, not looking away for a moment. "And trust me when it comes to Tytan Baratheon I am somewhat of an expert."
"Ivar," Oberyn muttered, before his dark eyes widened, after which they narrowed again in suspicion. "I've heard of you, you are one of Tytan's personal guard, one of his closest companions aren't you?"
"I was yes, until he became King and offered us, his loyal men, absolutely nothing. After that slap to the face, and after it became clear that he never would give me what I was due, I freed Viserys here. Then I gathered as many ambitious and skilled men as I could and brought them all down here to Dorne." Ivar shrugged easily, unperturbed by the sudden look of distaste on Oberyn's face.
"So you are a boneless, cowardly craven. You turn your back on your friend, your liege lord for little to no reason, and then expect me to trust you?" Oberyn asked incredulously, looking between the scowling Viserys and still smirking Ivar now.
"You call me boneless or craven or whatever you want. I just think of myself as practical. I saw the opportunity Viserys presented and decided to grasp it. Was it honourable or noble? Fuck no! But I'm not a noble, nor was I brought up with privilege and thus have the chance to learn about honour and all that noble shit. No I dragged myself up from the gutters, and now stand before you, ready to share in the same opportunity that you yourself are being offered!" Ivar shrugged, completely unperturbed by any judgement, he was who he was.
Oberyn watched Ivar cautiously for a few moments, before suddenly his face broke into a smirk. "Ha, maybe you aren't so bad. Ambition, is something I can respect. The will to do what you have to do, to benefit yourself that too I can understand! Alright then tell me what you know, why the mighty King Tytan Baratheon is not as much of an issue as I fear he might be?"
"Yes, do tell Ivar." Viserys tagged on, with him having been silent during Ivar and Oberyn's interactions thus far, feeling a little left out, which was something he soon wanted to rectify.
"Tytan Baratheon, his mother has created a cult of personality around him. Sure he's good enough with a blade, having the best teachers including Jamie Lannister will do that. But he has little to know experience of actually leading armies or real fights. On top of that his divine powers, they are little more than party tricks. Sure he admittedly has some mystical power, but it is little more than water magic, something that more than a few hedge wizards, or sorcerers over in Essos could replicate, or at least from what I've heard they can." Ivar began, his tone loud and holding a hint of mockery in it as he looked around at the assembled group, as if he were amused by their worries over the young King.
"So the rumours about him are just that, rumours?" Oberyn asked intrigued.
"Most of them are yes, most of the running of his kingdom is done by his mother and the Small Council, a Small Council which is now significantly smaller after Varys's failed attempted coup not that long ago. No, Tytan is as prepared for being King as his father Robert was, and we all know how good a King he was…" Ivar trailed off, sharing an amused chuckle with some of his men in the room.
Robert Baratheon's reign after all was known for stagnation and corruption. The man had been a great warrior, a monster on the battlefield, but when it came to actually having the ability to rule competently, well in that regard the man had been distinctly lacking.
"And what of the dragon?" Viserys asked quickly, Ivar had not mentioned any of this to him before.
"Ozymandias? The beast looks like it's going to be a runt, and an uncontrollable one at that." Ivar shrugged dismissively.
"Well it's not surprising that he can't control it, only a Targaryen, someone with the blood of the dragon, can control an actual dragon." Viserys sniffed, a distinctly superior look on his face now. "Once I've toppled this pretender I'll take the dragon and show you all what a true Targaryen can do!"
"So that is your perception of Tytan Baratheon?" Oberyn asked, ignoring Viserys now as he focused on Ivar to the exclusion of all else.
"From one of those who knew him best." Ivar confirmed easily.
Oberyn hummed as he heard this, before he looked around at the room again. "It is still early days, but I will say this much. Although I will not commit yet, I am at least interested in hearing more about your plans to retake the Iron Throne."
Viserys's smiled widely as he heard that.
Before he could say anything though, Ivar piped up again. "And as a Prince of Dorne we appreciate your potential support. I am curious though about what your brother, Prince Doran, the ruler of Dorne will say?"
"I love my brother, but he is a cautious man, overly cautious at times." Oberyn replied very carefully. "If I believe it is right to support the young Targaryen's claim to the throne, then I will try to convince him. If I succeed then that will be wonderful. If I fail though, if I fail then I might have no choice but to remove him from his current position, and force him into a peaceful, early retirement. For too long has Dorne stagnated under his rule, if he does not get on board, then it might be necessary to make him move aside and make way for the future. Hypothetically speaking of course."
"Of course." Ivar nodded with a smile. This Oberyn was a man he knew he could get on with. He was as ambitious and ruthless as Ivar, and was willing to do whatever it took to protect and elevate himself and those he cared for. Even if what was necessary to ensure the best for his loved ones, meant hurting those he loved. This man seemed to have the will and conviction to make sacrifices if necessary.
"That being said I believe there is a lot more to discuss before I decide anything." Oberyn continued, looking to the other two men now, before he gestured for them to all sit down at the table.
All the while none of them noticed the large hawk sitting in the hall's rafters, its golden eyes locked on the ongoing discussions below. Its held cocked to one side in interest as if it could actually hear and understand what was happening.
( - )
(In Winterfell)
Riding through the familiar stone gateway and into the courtyard of Winterfell, Robb Stark took a deep breath, joyfully taking in the scent of home.
For Robb the last few months had been stressful to say the least. Firstly his father had been imprisoned down in King's Landing, not that long after taking up the positon of Hand of the King, Hand for a King that later died. After which Robb had had to then ride down to King's Landing with all haste to hopefully smooth things over, collect his sisters and swear fealty to the new King. This had led to him meeting up with his friend of sorts, Tytan, the new King to whom he swore his oath of fealty. Following on from which he had had to trek up north again after barely a week in the capital, this time taking with him his father who was bound for the Wall due to his crimes, and his frightened and confused younger sisters.
Yes, an awful lot of stuff had happened in a very short amount of time. But now it was over, he was back home in his sanctuary, and so too were his sisters, and his father. Though his father would only be here for one more night before he would then continue on up north to the Wall where he would then only have the Brothers of the Nights Watch and his bastard son Jon for company.
"Lord Stark!" Maester Luwin hailed as Robb led his column into the courtyard of Winterfell, the carriage holding his sisters and some supplies trundling after him along with two dozen armed and mounted Stark guardsman and the now black cloaked Eddard Stark.
"Luwin," Robb smiled as a stable boy grabbed the reigns of his horse, pulling himself down as he did so, before he then approached the old, grey cloaked Maester, his blue eyes then trailing over to the familiar figures of his mother, Catelyn, his youngest brother, Rickon, his now chair bound but very much aware younger brother, Bran, and finally his friend, Theon, all of whom had just come out of the keep to greet them. "I'm home."
"And we're glad you are, I honestly thought I might never see you again." Catelyn said softly, gently cupping Robb's cheek with her hand and kissing him on the cheek, before she then looked passed him and at Eddard and her daughters, some of the tension in her face disappearing as the last members of her immediate family returned home safe and sound.
With that said his mother swept off to her embrace both of her now crying daughters, clutching them to her tightly as she shed a few of her own tears, before she then embraced Ned. Any anger she might have been feeling towards the Stark patriarch fading for the moment. Though Robb knew it wouldn't be long before she laid into Eddard, after all she, perhaps unreasonably, blamed him for allowing himself to be manipulated by Baelish, and for the current situation he had put the family in.
Smiling slightly as he saw his sisters, mother and father greet his two younger brothers exuberantly, Robb could not help but let out another sigh of satisfaction. Despite all the stress and anxiety it had all worked out in the end, all the members of his family were safely back home, even if his father would soon be going to the Wall, and it was all thanks to his friendship with Tytan.
Honestly Robb had thought a lot on what had happened over the last few weeks on the road, and he had quickly come to the realisation that were it not for Tytan, his father would likely have been beheaded, and House Stark's name dragged through the muck, with them also likely being stripped of their Wardenship of the North.
The King truly had been magnanimous and merciful in regards to this issue, showing genuine wisdom in his decision to not alienate the North and instead show mercy to his father, whose only crime was allowing himself to be manipulated.
Robb owed Tytan Baratehon a debt, he knew that much, and he would pay it, even if it meant his lifelong friendship, loyalty and fealty to him no matter what. After all Lannister's were not the only ones who paid their debts.
"Lord Stark, a word if I may." Maester Luwin said quietly, breaking Robb from his thoughts as he turned away from his happily reconciling family and over to the aged Maester. "In private."
Robb cocked an eyebrow at that, but nodded, he was tired and travel weary but he could read the expression on Luwin's face, this was serious. Which is why, after excusing himself from his family all of whom were now heading into the warmth of Winterfell's great hall, Robb instead headed upstairs to his father's, now his, office. Both Maester Luwin and surprisingly Theon leading the way.
"So what is it that's so important then?" Robb asked tiredly as he entered his office, shrugging off his heavy, fur cloak and allowing Theon to hang it up for him, after which he took a seat behind his thick, oak desk. "I've been travelling continuously for the last few weeks, I am in need of a proper meal and some rest!"
"It won't take long my Lord." Said Maester Luwin.
"But seriously you need to hear it, the sooner the better." Theon tagged on, licking his lips nervously as he looked around the room, after which he then headed for the door. "I'll be back in a minute, Maester Luwin can explain some of it while I'm gone."
Robb frowned slightly at the strange way his friend was acting as he saw him quickly leave the room, after which his gaze moved back to the balding, wrinkled Luwin. "What's happened?"
"Well firstly we have some potentially good news." Maester Luwin began with a forced smile, pulling out a furled up scroll from his robes, a scroll which quite noticeably held the crowned Stag seal of the King. "Not two days ago we received a raven from King's Landing."
"Oh, and what has Tytan got to say?" Robb asked curiously, wondering as he did whether there was another issue, or whether his friend had changed his mind about something. Honestly with someone as unpredictable as Tytan he couldn't even begin to guess.
"The missive contains a marriage proposal, a proposal between yourself and the Princess Myrcella, once she comes of age of course, and so long as both of you are amenable to the marriage. He was quite clear on those last two bits." Maester Luwin said with a slight smile, proffering the scroll over to Robb, who in return took it before he began reading through it.
"He had mentioned he was thinking on this, but I didn't think he would act so soon." Robb muttered to himself as he read the message, ignoring the standard platitudes and instead getting down to the detail, including the very generous dowry the King was offering for Myrcella's hand.
"No doubt he wants to act before you chose another suitor, you are a Lord and of the age after all." Maester Luwin replied with a chuckle, before his expression become more serious. "But also I think he is making a statement, especially in light of your father's… recent actions and the decline in House Stark's reputation."
"He wants to make clear that we have not lost his favour, that and he obviously wants to bind House Stark and the North to him closer than ever, especially now his father is dead and your father is being sent to the Wall." Maester Luwin explained, his tone careful. "Now that you have returned and read it, you'll need to come to a decision and reply, and soon too. To do otherwise might be seen as an insult."
Robb nodded at that, rereading the message again as he did so. "I will think on it and ask both mother and father for advice. Though at the moment I am inclined to accept the offer, and have the Princess ward here while we get to know each other and until she is of age."
"A wise decision." Luwin nodded, before pausing when there was a knock on the door to the office. "But something to think on more later, for now there is another issue you need to know about."
"Oh?" Robb asked, leaning forward in his seat and carefully putting the King's message to one side as he did so. "Enter."
At his command the door to the room opened, and Theon came in, closely followed by another figure. This one being a very familiar looking, beautiful, red headed woman. A woman that was holding a wrapped up bundle in her arms.
"What is this?" Robb asked suddenly cautious, standing up from his chair now, after which he walked around his desk and approached the red haired woman.
"This is Roz," Maester Luwin began, not that he needed to introduce the beautiful red head to Robb, after all he was very familiar with the prostitute, very familiar indeed. "And not a couple of weeks ago she gave birth in one of the rooms here at the Keep."
"Ok, and why did my mother allow a whore to give birth to her child here?" Robb asked, his mouth suddenly growing dry as he edged closer to the nervous looking red head. He had not heard about any of this before he had left, then again it had been months now since he vacated Winterfell.
"Because of the boy's father." Luwin said very carefully, watching Robb closely as he edged closer and finally got a look at the minute, swaddled baby in Roz's arms. His blue eyes widening as he saw a pair of very familiar looking sea green eyes looking back at him.
"The child is the Kings." Theon said bluntly, not that he needed to as Robb knew what they said was true the moment he got a glimpse of the baby.
"Well shit…" Robb muttered, for want of anything else to say.
( - )
(Near the Vale)
Turning in the saddle of his horse and looking back behind him, Tytan could see the column of wagons and soldiers behind him stretching off far into the distance. Thirty thousand men, including heavy cavalry, heavy infantry, light infantry, archers, pike men and engineers for siege weaponry, and at least three dozen siege weapons. It was a larger army than any that had been fielded since the Greyjoy rebellion nearly ten years ago.
And that was not including the naval forces Tytan had sailing along the coast from Blackwater bay, three score war galleys, each of which was filled with marines and had ballistae and mangonels mounted on the decks.
This was an army that was made up nearly entirely of professional soldiers, with Houses throughout the Crownlands, Westerlands, Reach, Riverlands and Stormlands having sent some of their household troops to Tytan at his request. Bolstering the King's own eight thousand strong force of Goldcloaks, the rest of his loyal troops having stay behind to enforce the King's peace in both King's Landing and beyond. With thousands more already in training at the partially devastated keep of Harrenhal.
Thirty thousand men and they were all under Tytan's command. It was pretty daunting really, even for someone as mentally old as Tytan. After all, although Tytan had experience in leading and fighting in wars and battles, he had never led a force this large before.
Thankfully though he did have experienced commanders to fall back on if necessary, and to whom he could delegate certain tasks. Lord Randyll Tarly, was one such man, with him being a very capable Lord form the Reach who even now was riding his own horse only a few feet behind and to the left of Tytan's.
Tytan's grandfather, Tywin Lannister was another of these men, with the much older looking man having taken a position directly to Tytan's right. Riding along beside the black, plate armoured King, wearing his own Lannister coloured and emblazoned armour.
All around Tytan rode his other guards, both his personal guardsmen, and Jamie Lannister and Barristan Selmy from his Kingsguard, all of them clad in their own suits of full-plate armour, though none as grand as Tytan or Tywin's, as they rode their own massive destriers in a close formation. With banners bearing the crowned stag and many other sigils streaming over head as each group of soldiers flew both the King's banner and the banner of their own respective Lord and/ or House.
In the end it had taken several weeks to mobilise the army, and several more to meet up and head towards the Vale, but he had eventually pulled it off. Soon he would be entering the Vale and dealing with the Lysa Arryn issue once and for all. Yes, very soon he would be fully consolidating his kingdom and solidifying his rule.
"Has anymore news been heard from the Lords of the Vale?" Tytan asked into the relative silence that had overcome his companions, the only noise before he spoke, having come from the clip clop of their horses hooves as they rode along the road, the snorts of their mounts and the noisy racket of the army moving along behind them.
"Royce, Swann and some of the others have already replied. They have agreed not to ride to Lysa Arryn's aid if a battle does ensue. But nor will they join us, they have declared neutrality until the situation is resolved, basing their decision on their conflicting oaths to both the Crown and to House Arryn." Tywin Lannister replied firmly, the much older man glancing sideways at his grandson, his cold, blue eyes locked on Tytan's face as if trying to read his thoughts from his expression.
"Cowards." Randyll Tarly spat, literally as he turned to the side and spat onto the ground. "They merely don't want to commit their men."
"If that's their decision, it's their decision." Tytan replied easily, his expression unperturbed. "All that means is that when the dust settles and Lysa Arryn and her army of sellswords and traitors lie dead, that they will reap none of the rewards."
"Which is as it should be." Tywin nodded, before focusing on Tytan. "A prudent King though, he would use this as an opportunity to show his strength."
"You mean to browbeat the Lords of the Vale into turning against House Arryn, a House they have historical served and fought for, for millennia." Tytan asked dryly, locking eyes with his grandfather. "If they came to me willingly and brought their men that would be one thing, and something I would reward. If they turned their backs on me and joined Lysa then that would be something else, and I would punish them most harshly for it. If they chose to do nothing, then I am of the opinion that, for the moment at least, I will let things lie. With them neither get punished nor rewarded."
"You're merciful my King, too merciful I fear." Randyll spoke up, a scowl on the scraggy, dour looking man's face.
"Yes, by letting these 'Lords' act like this you are setting a precedent, what if others chose to act like this in the future, trusting in your mercy." Tywin asked, his brow furrowing now. "A wise King would heed counsel, and not allow such treachery pass unpunished."
"Maybe," Tytan nodded, before he smiled. "But a wise King would also trust in himself and his own gut feeling. Think of it like this, if I forced the men of the Vale to fight their own countrymen, to kill those they have grown up with, do you think they would thank me for it, or respect me for it? Or do you think it would lead to resentment, anger and frustration?"
"The opinions of the masses should mean nothing to you. They are your subjects and must do what they are told. If they do not then you should punish them. Remember Tytan, respect must be tempered with fear." Tywin advised, his tone bordering on condescending now.
"Fear though can lead to anger, and anger can lead to hatred, and hatred, well that can lead to rebellion. What happened to the Targaryen's is evidence enough of that. I do understand your point though grandfather, and agree that sometimes a King must be ruthless, but also I think sometimes a King must be merciful and understanding too." Tytan replied after a few moments of thought, the column continuing to move as they crossed the border of the Vale and continued on their way to the Eyrie. "That why I have decided to let things lie for now, instead I will focus on defeating Lysa, after that I will come up with a suitable way to deal with the Lord of the Vale, even if that means denying some of the larger and older Houses, Wardenship of the East.
Tywin didn't reply to that, but one only needed to look at the expression on his face to see he remained unconvinced. Nor did Tytan think that this would be the last he heard on this issue. No, ever since his grandfather and his five thousand Lannister troops had joined the army, the man had been harrying him, constantly trying to give him advice and tell him what a good King and a bad King would do.
His intent of course was obvious, the man was trying to exert some level of control over Tytan, something he had been trying to do through letters and Tytan's own mother for the last few months. Not that this direct approach was going to work any better than his indirect approach.
That being said, despite being annoying he wasn't sure he wanted his grandfather's attempted manipulations to stop. For all that they annoyed him, they also made him think. His grandfather's questioning and statements challenged him, it made him look back over previous decision he had made and weigh them up in a different light, that and they made him look forward too, and look into what he actually wanted to achieve.
Honestly Tytan had almost begun to enjoy talking with someone who could challenge him. His companions for all he got on well with them, and bantered with them, they never really challenged him mentally.
Leaf of course did, but the two of them only really discussed the history of Westeros and his world, the growing power of the supernatural and their individual philosophies, with her being a Child of the Forest, of the Old Gods, pretty much a Demigod here in Westeros, and he Tytan being a reborn Demigod from a different world.
Suffice to say their discussions were interesting and very enlightening, but they never discussed leadership, his methods, or Tytan's plans for his Kingdom.
Similarly with Margery they made small talk, and she made him laugh with her quick wit and sharp tongue. But they never really talked about anything serious, not yet anyway. Hopefully in the future she would become more outspoken, as he tended to dislike quiet, meek women.
A high pitch call overhead soon distracted Tytan from these thoughts though. The sudden unexpected sound making him look up, ignoring the two men riding beside him and the guards all around him, as he instead glanced up and saw a familiar, brown feathered, golden eyed hawk circling in the air above him.
( - )
(In Essos)
Qarth truly it was a massive, majestic and wealthy city, with thick walls and palatial buildings scattered throughout it. In some ways it put even some of the grandest and greatest cities in Westeros to shame.
That being said there was one bad thing about the place though, and that was that it was so damned hot.
Those were Stannis Baratheon's thoughts as he Melisandre, Davos and two dozen guardsmen walked through the city's narrow, dusty, crowded, sweaty streets.
For all of its visual majesty, this place was like hell, already Stannis had sweated through his linen clothing, the material sticking to him horrible along with the dust and sand from the street. On top of that he could already feel his flesh beginning to burn from the sun's powerful rays. ]
He had little doubt that this face was already as red as the ones of those around him, all save for the pale and beautiful Melisandre of course who merely strode through the streets with ease, not a drip of sweat on her brow.
They had been in the city for nearly a week now, and already he was sick of the place. His ships were all tied up on the city's docks, or anchored out in the bay. With his men having been given shore leave to do what they wanted.
Despite this though only now was he meeting with the Targaryen girl, and even then that was because he had had to strong arm a member of the Thirteen, the city's ruling council, into to setting up the meeting.
That was where he was heading to now, apparently the girl, her two dragons and her hundred or so Dothraki followers were all hold up in another member of the Council of Thirteen's manses. Living off of this Xaro man's wealth while she plotted out what she would do next.
Well Stannis would soon be helping her in that regard. He had ships and men, she had dragons and a claim to the throne, between the two of them they should be able to muster a large enough army to head back across the Narrow Sea and put Daenerys Targaryen on the throne, with Stannis of course being her husband and King.
That last part though could wait until later. For now what mattered was forging an alliance between the two of them, that and finding some financial backers, after which following, Melisandre's advice, they would head to Astaphor or Yunkai. Where they would hopefully be ably buy an army, whether that was an army of slaves or one of mercenaries though was a question for later.
It was with this in mind that Stannis passed through the gates to Xaro's manse, ignoring the spear wielding guards as he instead strode up the steps to the grand looking doors. Both of which swung open as he approached, a pair of bare chested guards bowing to him before they moved aside and waved him inside.
"Wait here." Stannis grunted to his guards, raising a hand to them and gesturing for them to loiter about outside whilst he went in, after which he, Davos and Melisandre stepped through the doorway and into the surprisingly cool interior of the manse.
Stannis's grey eyes moving automatically to the large, heavily built dark-skinned man he could see reclining lazily on one of the nearby, cushioned loungers, after which his gaze then shifted over to a young, but beautiful white haired girl he could see on another lounger.
The girl in question looking up as Stannis and his company entered the room, her violet eyes narrowing curiously even as she continued to feed the two small, baby dragons at her feet scraps of dried meat.
( - )
AN: So what did you all think, I hope you enjoyed it? And yes there was more politicking, plots and interactions but that is part of what makes Game of Thrones so interesting. That being said there will be some action coming up soon, after all Tytan is going to war! On top of that there will be drama, romance and intrigue. I have lots and lots of stuff planned.
That being said I am also very interested in seeing how the series ends. This month the last season starts, and I am really eager to know the ending.
Already I am hoping that it is a complete White Walker victory, and that they all die, just as a final kick in the face to show just how pointless and futile all the plotting, manipulation and murder was in the end, and that sometimes death is just inevitable. That or Pod becomes the King!
Yep, I am really looking forward to finding out. That being said I hope you all continue to enjoy this story and leave plenty of reviews and comments.
Thanks a lot for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
See you all later.
Greed720.