The Fighting Priest
A hundred yards, that was all.
Years before, a much younger and fitter Thoros of Myr had participated in a small war in the disputed lands. It had been over one damned thing or another; Thoros never could remember any of the particular small reasons the Free Cities had for launching sellswords at each other. The company he'd fallen in with had aimed to take a small walled town in the hills of Andalos, and the town had prepared the battleground in advance. When the sellswords arrived, they found a hundred yard stretch of open ground lined with trenches, pits, stakes to deter horses and every man who could fire a bow lined up on the town wall. He remembered the captain, a beardless brat from Pentos convinced of his genius and immortality, ordering a charge, and he remembered watching a third of the company die trying to cross those hundred yards. Men falling into stake-lined pits, or thrown from their horses when they tried to spur their mounts across too wide trenches, or simply riddled with arrows if they survived all of that. They took the town in the end, and Thoros prayed every year for a forgiveness he did not deserve for that.
Now, many years and leagues from Andalos, Thoros of Myr stared at another hundred yard stretch of land and wondered what was between him and his goal. And how many of the people near him would survive the next few moments.
The woods were unnaturally silent; nary a sound could be heard coming from the dark spaces between the trees. All was in shadow. The party moved into the trees back towards Carefree Victory, weapons drawn and keeping all eyes directed outward. The sorceress's familiars buzzed overhead, throwing rays of white light into the forest to illuminate their path.
The wights were upon them halfway back to the ship. Almost a score of the creatures crashed out of the woods without warning, falling upon the party with tooth and claw. Thoros found himself beset by one of the fresher wights, a blond man with big, watery eyes now crusted over with ice. The man had put up a fight before he'd turned; he could see evidence of claw marks and blade wounds in what was left of the wight's tunic. Thoros blocked the wight's strike with one meaty arm and threw the creature to the ground with the followthrough. His unlit sword flashed and the blond wight's head bounced away into the woods. The body wobbled, then fell over, crawling off in the direction of its head.
Someone screamed. Thoros whipped around to see one of the Halfhand's men—one of the younger rangers, Walder—in close combat with a wight. The young fool had stabbed the thing with his sword, burying it halfway in the dead man's chest only for the blade to catch on the wight's ribs. Walder struggled to pull the sword out, a moment's distraction that let the thing grab him with clawed hands and start pulling on its own. Another wight joined in the fray and dragged Walder to the ground. The man's screams cut off with a sickening crack.
A sound of sorcerous thunder drew his attention, as Lady Jade felled a wight with another shot from her thunder weapon. Her familiars buzzed above them, striking at the creatures with their own magic, to little gain. One familiar managed to light one's clothing afire; the wight shrieked and went up like a newly-tarred torch.
"Fire!" Thoros called. "Use fire if you can!" The ship wasn't far now, only a dozen yards or more. He could see the lanterns hung on the hull, and the light coming from the ramp. The wights hadn't gotten that far yet. They crossed the edge of the clearing the ship's bulk filled, battering away wights that seemed to just keep coming.
"SHIELDS UP!" Lady Jade roared. Instantly the horde of wights stopped at the clearing's edge, flashes of blue-gold light blocking their path. The handful of wights still mixed in the company went down quickly to blade and sorcery. Lady Jade leaned panting against one of the ramp's support beams. "Well fuck a duck," she said. "Casualties?"
"We lost Darold," Ygritte said heavily. "The wights caught him on the first charge, never had a chance."
"Aye, and Walder too, the poor sod," Thoros noted.
"What th'fuck was that?" the wildling woman demanded. "We've seen wights before, and we've heard stories from others of wight attacks and they never move like that. Why were they moving so fucking fast?"
The sorceress sighed. "I'm not sure," she said in a tone Thoros recognized as meaning I have more than a good notion as to why, but don't want to talk about it just yet. "Let's get inside, get patched up and then discuss options."
A little later, the party reconvened on the bridge. After all that nobody seemed particularly chatty. Lady jade stared out the window, watching as the walking dead continued to mass around the ship. Unable to pass the magic curtain wall, the wights would stumble up to it, bounce off in a shower of sparks and then vanish back into the crowd.
"I should go and find out what they want," she said.
All heads turned to look at the sorceress. "You what?" the wildling boy—Orik, that was his name—squeaked.
"To be fair, my lady," Thoros said mildly, "there wouldn't seem to be much use in trying to parley with mindless things like these."
"That's just it though," Jade argued. "The wights might be mindless, or might as well be mindless but the Others themselves aren't. They're capable of reason, emotion, self-awareness just like you or me. We can talk to them." She looked back out the window, troubled. "The one that spoke to me at the cave said they wanted freedom. What if they just want to go home? Planetos is so inimical to their existence that it's hard to believe they want to stay here any longer than they have to. What if this, all of this from the Builders on down, is just some kind of tragic mistake? Maybe there's a compromise here, a way to end this before more people die."
The people of the North, wildling and Watch alike, all stared at the woman like she'd lost her mind. Thoros wasn't all that sure they were wrong, either. "Are ye mad, witch?" Ygritte blurted, giving voice to their collective thoughts.
"I'm Starfleet," replied Jade with a wry shake of her head. "Which is close, but not quite the same. There's a risk here, but it's one I'm obligated to take." A quick snap of her fingers and four of her familiars fell into formation around her.
Qhorin Halfhand raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Obligated," he half-asked. The sorceress simply shrugged.
"You swore the oath, didn't you?" she responded. The Halfhand stiffened. "I didn't take your oath, Qhorin, but I took one all the same. If there's a chance for a peaceful resolution then I have to explore the possibility before resorting to open war. That's… fundamental. To betray that is to betray everything that makes me who I am."
Ygritte snorted. "Oh aye, you'll make the white walkers go back to whatever frozen hell spawned 'em, and then you'll bring down the Wall and the kneelers and the free folk will swear friendship and the world will be forever summer, is that what you're thinking?"
"I didn't say it was going to be likely," Jade replied, picking up her thunder weapon and one of the small green balls they'd made together in King's Landing so many days ago. "But if there's a way out of this that doesn't involve us killing each other until only one side's left, then I've got to try to make that work out, even if it's riskier than simply shooting everybody."
"And if something happens to you, my lady?" Alleras said quietly. "What becomes of us?"
Jade looked at her and tilted her head to the ceiling. "Ship, executive command alpha-sierra-victor-nine-six-nine-eight," she said. "Maintain biomonitor on me. On signal loss return to waypoint 'King's Landing' at best possible speed and unlock level three controls for user Alleras." The ship chimed and she gave the young maester a reassuring smile. "What we've got in the hold should be enough to convince Robert," she said. "Level three control will let you keep the ship flying without serious issue. If things go too badly, tell the king, tell the other lords, get everybody ready to make a stand. And… make sure Starfleet knows what happened when they get here."
The sorceress shrugged on her heavy green coat. "Whatever happens next, it probably won't take very long. See you guys in a couple minutes." And like smoke, she was gone.
Parley
The moment she stepped off the ramp, all the wights surrounding the ship just stopped. They all stood completely motionless just beyond the shield bubble, all staring in her direction. The effect was, to be honest, a hell of a lot creepier than if they'd simply kept trying to walk into the forcefield.
The wights kept up the stare all the way from the ramp to the shield's edge, hundreds of blue eyes staring balefully. Jade stopped five paces from where the shield met the ground and the wights all stirred at once.
"Zhdane," the entire horde rumbled as one.
Jade rolled her eyes. "Yes yes, Zhdane," she said. "Excellent pattern recognition, gold stars for everybody. Now if we're done stating the obvious I'd like to speak to the manager, please." The wights just stared. "Oh come on, it's not like you're fooling anybody at this point. I'm right here. I know you're out there. Let's have a nice chat and see if we can't come to some sort of accommodation. We can stop this, all we need to do is talk."
The horde stilled again, and the wights in front of her stepped backwards and to the side, like a stage curtain opening. Into the hole slid a gaunt, bone-white figure clad in armor the color of old ice. Behind it were two more figures, these cloaked in white vapor and more indistinct than the leader. The Other stopped just before hitting the shield barrier and looked at Jade.
The temperature dropped another two degrees.
"A pleasure to finally meet you," Jade said, sketching a quick bow. "I've heard so much about your people… maybe you'd be interested in telling your side of the story?" The Other's head tilted a little, and a wight detached from the horde and shambled right up to the barrier. "Is that a yes or no? Mime was never my strong suit."
"Zhdane," the wight croaked. "We will have your ship… we will have our freedom."
"Right, I got that part," Jade replied. "But why? Why do you need my ship? To repair the portal?" The Other looked up sharply at that, and it's companions seemed to quiver in… anticipation? Surprise? She wasn't sure. "Didn't think I knew that part yet, did you? That's interesting. Yes, I know about what the Builders were doing up there."
"We will have our freedom," the wight repeated.
"Will you? Let's say, for the sake of argument, I agree to repair the portal. I'll reopen the path to the Shroud. What do you do then, hm?"
The Other glided even closer to the shield's edge. "You can do this?" the wight whispered harshly.
Jade waggled her free hand. "Maybe," she said idly. "I'm a pretty dab hand at fixing things up. But whether or not I can do this isn't the question. The question is what will you do if I can?"
The wight trembled. "We will…" it halted, made as if to speak again, then halted again. "We will…"
Jade leaned in. "You will?"
"We… will feast!" The wight shot forward with a burst of violent motion, only to bounce hard off the shield in a fountain of sparks. Jade jumped back a step as the wights all started to press insistently against the shield, causing it to light up in a hundred different places with their weight.
The Other watched this display with a mocking smile, then drew a sword made of fine, thin crystal. Not metal, some kind of diamond composite possibly. Or psi-reinforced ice maybe, these guys do love their theme, Jade thought. The sword seemed to shimmer with blue light as the Other swept it around in a broad arc, then plunged it right into the shield.
The air flared with light as sword met shield, and the light died as the sword started to pass through. The Other brought the sword down with a vicious downstroke, and a tear opened just wide enough for the Other to enter.
Jade's hand went to her blaster, and she snapped it up just before the Other could step through. The pale creature stopped, eyeing the weapon warily. "We don't have to do this," she warned. "We can end this without any more bloodshed. I can fix this."
For the first time in the entire encounter, the Other made a sound. It laughed, a terrible sound like glaciers collapsing. Then, it spoke: "What would be the point of that? You are, all of you, prey. We will have this world and then…" it bared teeth the same color as its skin. "There are other worlds than this, are there not?"
Any hope Jade had of resolving the conflict peacefully died in that moment. She drew aim and fired on the Other, only for the creature to block the shot with it's sword. The crystal sang and shattered with the force of the bolt, sending shards of whatever the hell it was made of flying everywhere. One fragment cut into Jade's cheek. Whatever it was made of, it was as cold as liquid helium and the freezing sensation hurt more than the cut itself. The Other snarled in a language she couldn't pick out and dropped the broken sword. It drew a dagger made of the same stuff from its belt and moved to advance on the Ranger.
And then the Other's hair burst into flame. The Other roared in pain and fury. Jade yelped in surprise as the creature frantically tried to put out the fire. Its companions rushed to its side, blades drawn and trying to simultaneously deal with their injured comrade and resume the assault on the Carefree Victory.
It was, all things being equal, the best shot Jade was going to get today. She pulled the wildfire grenade off her belt, armed it and assumed her best pitching stance. "Present for you!" she yelled, letting the grenade fly through the shield to land at the Others' feet. Having delivered the last word, Jade Hasegawa turned and ran as fast she could. The world behind her flashed green and hot, the eerie light of wildfire reflecting off the shield and the ship's hull. She could hear the Others' outraged screams as the psi-reinforced chemical fire started burning everything it came into contact with.
"Raise ramp!" She called as her feet touched the metal. The ramp obediently started lifting as she ran up it. "Up ship, altitude 1500 meters, fire disruptors at surface targets!" Carefree Victory's VI chimed once, and she could feel the engines winding up through the deckplates. Jade stumbled over to the nearest wall and slumped down onto the deck, face buried in her hands.
Through the deck she could feel the hum of the belly disruptors as they let loose a volley into the mass of wights below. Jade wondered for a moment if the wildfire had killed the Others before the disruptors hit them or not, then decided she was better off not knowing one way or the other.
"That could've gone so much better," she moaned.
"Aye," a very familiar contralto said in front of her. "But it could've gone so much worse, too." Jade looked up and saw Sarella standing there looking at her with concern. "You're wounded," she said.
Jade reached up and touched her cheek. Her fingers came away bloody, though it didn't hurt much. Adrenaline response, she thought, give it a minute. "That'll leave a mark," she said, rubbing her bloody fingers together. "Have to break out the autodoc."
"You've made a frightful mess of the forest," Al noted. Jade looked at her funny, then tapped her glasses. The ship immediately brought up an exterior visual on her HUD. The clearing was awash in yellow flame, save for one spot that was a bright unnatural green. "Still, I'd wager this means we won't be pursued." Al continued. "Have we completed our task, my lady?" Can we get out of this frozen, zombie-infested hellhole was the question she clearly wanted to ask, but some sliver of politeness kept the trainee maester from spelling it out.
Jade sighed. As much as she wanted to be done with this, as much as they had enough to technically fulfill the requirements, there were still things that needed done. "Not just yet, Al," she said grimly. "Two more things we need to do. First, we need to expand our collection. I want a head for every high lord of Westeros, just to make sure nobody tries to pretend I tricked Robert."
"And the other thing?"
"When we go head collecting, we're going to thin the herd a little."
Shireen
Shireen felt the scream more than heard it. The terrible shriek bounced off the inside of her skull like a ringing bell and almost caused her to fall flat on her rump. Instead she bounced off poor, sweet Patches and ended up leaning against the wall, head in hands waiting for the terrible noise to stop. Only when the noise trailed off did she realize what it was.
Something's happened to Lady Melisandre.
The strange woman from Asshai had an… unusual position in her life, these days. Most of the time the sorceress spent staring into flames, trying to glean visions of the present or the future. These visions she'd then report to her father, who would do something with it. What, exactly, Shireen didn't know. Maester Cressen and Ser Davos would grumble and look concerned whenever these things would come up, but they'd decided to never speak of it in front of her, to her great annoyance. Sometimes she would teach Mother and her ladies-in-waiting about the Lord of Light. Mother found it endlessly fascinating, but Shireen wasn't quite so enchanted by the strange god from Essos. "Your father's child," Mother would sigh when she confessed these things, which made her feel proud but also a little sad.
The best times were when Lady Melisandre would take her aside and teach her about magic. In the time since the sorceress had arrived on Dragonstone she had taught all sorts of small tricks to be done with fire and powders, as well as some of the truer magics. Not all of them, nor even any of the stronger ones. Lady Melisandre was quite insistent on that. "Many works are not fit for a girl not yet flowered," she'd said firmly when Shireen had inquired.
"Well then I'll just wait!" Shireen had blurted. The sorceress laughed and patted her head.
"No doubt you will," she'd said.
Now, the youngest of the Baratheons raced across the whole of Dragonstone to the sorceress's quarters, hoping that the terrible feeling in her belly was wrong. Shireen threw open Lady Melisandre's door and found her crumpled in front of the great fire she kept burning night and day. The girl immediately rushed to her teacher's side, seeking signs of life like Maester Cressen would. The woman moaned softly as her hand touched her neck, and Shireen could feel the sorceress's pulse beat a rapid dance under her fingertips. She rolled Melisandre onto her back and gasped. Her face was covered in blood that had poured out from nose and even her eyes.
"Lady Shireen? Is something wrong—gods!" One of her father's guardsmen stood in the doorway, face blank with shock at the sight of Lord Stannis' daughter and his apparently wounded soothsayer on the floor.
"Fetch Maester Cressen," she ordered, trying to wipe some of the blood off Melisandre's face. The guard stood there, as if he didn't know what to do. Shireen scowled and summoned up everything she'd seen her father do when he needed something done right now. "What are you waiting for, you fool?" she snapped in a hard voice. "Get the maester!"
"A-aye, milady!" The guard snapped to and bolted. Hopefully he'd find Cressen and bring him before he snapped out of it. That much accomplished, Shireen went back to trying to remove some of the blood from her teacher.
Lady Melisandre's eyes fluttered open, and she stared blankly at the wall for a long moment before focusing on her face. "Shireen?" she mumbled.
She smiled as best as she could. "Thank the gods, teacher, I'd thought you'd died for a moment there," she said. "What happened?"
The sorceress's eyes darted to and fro. "I saw it," she muttered. "She wouldn't have listened, couldn't have made them talk, needed a moment's space. Had to open up a moment for her." Shireen couldn't make sense of it. Her words sounded almost like Patches on his poorer days.
"You saw it?" she prompted. Melisandre's eyes snapped back to her, then went wide and wild. Shireen could see all the red where the blood had come from.
"Saw, yes! She went to beard the lion in its den. Foolish, mad, Starfleet… is there a difference I wonder?" Melisandre chuckled to herself. "I saw her, couldn't act. I needed to act ere all was lost. Had to pay the price but it was worth it, the green sun still rises." She blinked and looked around. "Am I on the floor?"
"You cried out and I found you here," Shireen replied gently. "Maester Cressen is on his way, he'll tend your injuries."
"Cressen, yes. Of course," the sorceress said softly, then reached out to touch Shireen on her scars. "I'm sorry if I caused undue distress, my lady."
Shireen blushed. "Stop that," she scolded. "You're not allowed to die just yet, teacher. Father needs your counsel, and you've yet to teach me to summon the moon and the sun and all the stars in the sky." The sorceress struggled up to a kneeling position, and Shireen helped her up, brushing her red and gray hair out of her face so the blood wouldn't get everywhere.
She blinked. Gray? When did that happen? "Lady Melisandre," she said, "your hair's changed!"
"Eh?" Melisandre said, looking around, then she spotted the heavy lock of greyish-white hair falling from her forehead. Her eyes widened a fraction, then she relaxed. "Ah," she said finally, still toying with her hair. "Ash. I had wondered what would happen."
"I don't understand," Shireen said.
The sorceress patted her hand. "All things in magic have a price, my lady," she said. "This… is part of that. Do not concern yourself too much on my account. All will happen as R'hllor wills it."
The King-Beyond-The-Wall
Mance Rayder observed the bedraggled party as they emerged from the metal dragon. The witch and her companions all looked worn and tired, and the small cluster of people and crows with them looked not much better. A handful of those who'd set out from the camp aboard the dragon hadn't returned, and Mance made a note to say something nice to the gods about them later. Even the crows. Despite the losses, the witch's party had actually grown some: following the crows off the dragon were a score or more of free folk, all looking around in mild wonder at having come so far so swiftly.
"You've been busy," he noted. The witch laughed, but there was no humor in her voice.
"There's an understatement," she said. "We need to talk."
Mance nodded and turned to the new arrivals. "You're more than welcome here," he said to them. "We've meat and mead, and we'll not turn away any of you in need."
One of the newcomers, a boy barely four and ten by Mance's eye, detached from the group and came to him. "You're Mance Rayder," he half-asked.
Mance nodded. "I am."
"I am Orik," the boy said with as much seriousness as he could. "My people were on our way to you with the Weeping Man when we were attacked by wights. The Weeper died defending us long enough to find the green witch communing with the gods."
Mance sighed. "So the Weeper's dead, eh?" he mused. "He was a mighty fighter, and we'll need plenty of those soon enough. On the other hand, the man was a right cunt most of the time. We're probably better off without him." Orik looked like he almost wanted to object, but either didn't want to speak against the King-Beyond-The-Wall or wasn't disagreeing with Mance's estimation. He waved the boy and his tribe into the encampment. "Go, lad. It's probably not as fine as living on the dragon, but there's cheer enough for now."
Orik's people left to find food, drink and whatever companionship they could, and Mance returned his attention to the witch. Most of her companions had disappeared on errands of their own, but she and old Halfhand were still there. Qhorin looked at him with obvious distaste, but the raw hatred he'd had for Mance seemed blunted, just a little. "Rumors have been flying like ravens these last few days," he said. "We've heard tales of a metal dragon burning out wights and walkers wherever it could find them." He paused. "We can even smell the smoke sometimes, when the wind shifts right."
The witch looked a little pained. "Wights, yeah," she said. "Others… not so sure about that. We've taken out a couple big clusters of wights so far, but I'm not betting on having gotten more than a handful of the actual Others. With a little luck that'll give us some breathing room, but right now we need to get your people south as quickly as possible."
"The thought had crossed my mind," Mance said dryly. "Of course, there's this one thing in the way…"
"Let's not mince words," the Halfhand growled. "I don't like you, Rayder. You're a traitor to the Watch, a killer and a robber. But the Lady Jade's convinced me that having you and your people on the south side of the Wall's a better thing than leaving you for the Others. Even if that weren't the case I don't like leaving any man, no matter how savage, to be prey for those fucking things."
Hope swelled in Mance's breast. "You'll take my case to the Lord Commander?"
"We both will," Jade replied. "We're probably going to have to convince more people before we can start letting you through, and there'll be conditions, I'm sure."
Of course. "Conditions?"
"If the wildlings are going to take refuge in the Gift, you're going to have to keep them in line," Qhorin said sternly. "No thieving, no stealing women, no killing. The Northern lords are going to go spare with thousands of wildlings in the Gift; if you give them an excuse they will kill you all, and we'll be too busy with the Others—" Or don't care to, Mance added in his head "—to protect you."
Mance sighed. Naturally, the lords were going to be a problem. "I can try," he said in bare honesty. "Most will follow me if I can get them to safety. The rest, well… we'll deal with that as it comes."
"All we can ask for," the witch said quickly. "For now though, you need to pack up your people and start moving south as fast as you can. The closer you get to the Wall, the easier it'll be to make this work. As for us," Jade said grimly, "Qhorin and his people need to get back to Castle Black post-haste, and we need to get away from you as quick as possible. The Others know I'm here and I suspect they're gonna be gunning for me in particular at this point. The more distance I keep from innocent civilians this side of the Wall, the better."
Mance thought about that. "Then don't let us keep you, my lady," he said. "Go, as quickly as you can. We'll see you again when we reach the Wall, if not before."
Sarella
The old bear looked a good twenty years older than he had a turn and a half ago. "Lady Jade, welcome back," he said. "Things have been rather hectic these last few nights."
"So I heard," Lady Jade replied. "The gossip outside was something about a dead man attacking you?"
Mormont shook his head wearily. "One of the men Benjen took with him on his ranging. We found his body not far from the Wall and brought it across for burial. Two nights ago it rose and tried to get into my quarters. Young Snow and his wolf caught it before it could hurt me… I never thought I'd live to see anything like it." he gave the sorceress a shrewd look. "But then you've seen something like it, haven't you?"
Lady Jade sighed. "I've got chunks of a half-dozen of the things under glass in the hold," she said, then hesitated. "And I've met the puppeteers to boot."
"You've seen the Others?" Mormont said, eyes going wide. "Truly?"
"Seen them, talked to them, fought them." Lady Jade replied.
"Gods protect us," the old bear whispered. "Rayder and his wildlings were bad enough, now the Others have come back too. The Watch is at its lowest ebb in eight thousand years."
Lady Jade gave Sarella a sidelong glance. "Yeah, well, about that," she said, then proceeded to tell Mormont about her encounters with the King-Beyond-The-Wall, and what she'd agreed to try and make happen. Mormont looked shocked at first, as the tale unfolded, then angry in a way she hadn't seen the old man get before, then oddly contemplative.
"I don't like it," he said as Jade finished her report. "There is little love lost between the wildlings and the North, especially in the holdings near the Wall. The Umbers and Karstarks especially have grudges old and recent against the people beyond the Wall. Even if I give blessing, such a thing will be… difficult."
"Oh yeah, I knew it'd be a hard sell," Jade replied. "But consider this, every human being south of the Wall is one safe from the Others' clutches, at least for now. Every woman, man and child in the far north is a potential foot soldier for their army. The more we deny them the resource, the harder we make their inevitable march south."
"Mm," Mormont grunted. "I can let them through, but without the agreement of the lords… I might be able to convince my lady sister easily enough, but Bear Island is isolated. You'll need Bolton, Umber and Karstark to agree at the least, and to get them you'll need Stark."
Lady Jade nodded. "My next stop is Winterfell, brief Robb and Catelyn before heading on to King's Landing and get the king and the Hand both up to date on what's going on. If I have to I'll bring Ned back with me to corral the lords into shape."
"As you say, my lady. I shall hope that your efforts are successful." Mormont ushered them from his solar and they went to have a meal of salt fish and herbs. The brothers who had gone with them were surrounded by their fellows, all curious about their adventures beyond the Wall. Sarella and the sorceress quietly found unobtrusive spots in the hall and ate their fish stew quickly and efficiently.
Later, sorceress, priest and maester convened upon Carefree Victory's bridge to determine the next course of action. "Winterfell, then King's Landing?" Sarella asked.
Jade nodded. "Seems like the best course of action. We need to get the ball rolling on evacuating the free folk first, then down to the capitol to convince the king. From there, I suppose it depends on who needs convincing."
"Tyrell, Lannister and Greyjoy will be the hardest to persuade," Thoros noted. "Tywin Lannister's a hard-headed man from what I know of him, and Tyrell and Greyjoy have an amazing ability to ignore things they think shouldn't concern them. They're both ambitious, too, that could be a problem."
"I suppose we'll burn that bridge once we're over it," Jade said dryly. "In any event, once we've got the king onboard—"
The ship chimed, and all their plans collapsed when they heard Sansa Stark, sounding small and terribly afraid, whispering in the air: "Lady Jade? Are you there? Everything's gone wrong and I don't know what to do."