BARRISTAN

It was a bad plan and nothing good would come of it, of that Ser Barristan was confident. Sending the pretender North to be raised by Stark. He could be plucked up by anyone so far from reach and used again to threaten the peace which the Queen Dowager and Princess so desired. Ser Willem seemed inclined to disagree.

"Lord Stark has a reputation that will keep none but the witless and fools from trying to pry the babe from him. I suggest you let it go, Ser, before we reach Dragonstone," chided the elder knight, as many men of his generation had done so to Barristan in the past.

Ser Willem was right, there was naught he could do what with Varys expecting the babe on Dragonstone, and that is what bothered him about it. This was the third time he had been powerless to do something, and he hated this feeling of failure that came along with it, tremendously. First he had failed to protect the young Princes, then he had failed the Queen dowager and the Princess in the mission they had requested of him, and lastly he had failed to be a knight worthy of the lovely Ashara. Poor tragic Ashara Dayne—forced by Lord Stark to bear his bastard, and then having to hide away in Starfall for the shame of it. Lord Stark it seemed had taken two things from him—his duty to his Queen and Princess, and his lady love.

I'll be damned if he takes any more…

He would maintain the Queen and Princess' desire for peace, but he would have satisfaction. He had been too overwhelmed with grief over Ashara's death to challenge him at the time—unlike young Arthur, Barristan knew when it was best to challenge a man to a duel, and in the midst of grief was hardly the time. Barristan would see the Queen and Princesses safe to King's Landing and then he would ride north and challenge the man… yes, that seemed the most honorable thing. He would challenge him for ruining honor of Ashara. But hadn't Arthur already done so, and lost?

Mayhaps I should not… No! I must.

But Barristan was broken from his reverie by a cry from the lookout.

"Ser Barristan, look!" called the man from above in the lookout's nest. Barristan shook his head to gather himself and looked in the direction the lookout was pointing. In the distance, growing ever closer there was what looked to be debris floating atop the water. What at first looked like quite a small patch of it, grew the further they sailed, and soon they were completely surrounded in a sea of what obviously was the remnants of a battle. Ser Oswell, apparently tired of trying to coax Ser Arthur out of his damned stupor, joined them atop deck and stared in utter shock. There were hardly any survivors amongst the debris. Most of the waves were filled with bloated water-logged corpses of men who had drowned—all those who lacked armor. Although they knew this sea of broken masts, tangled sails, floating corpses which stank worse than Flea Bottom, and barely alive survivors did end, while they were in it, it seemed to stretch on for eternity. Nowhere could they turn and see empty waves. For the Seven's sake they furled up their sails and sent out the dinghy in search of survivors. Barristan and a sailor named Garth, who knew how to row quite well, manned the dinghy while they maneuvered through the sea of debris.

"Seven's mercy, what happened 'ere?" asked Garth as they managed to pull an extremely weak looking long haired sailor out of the sea.

The sailor took one look at Barristan and kept his mouth shut. Barristan soon found the reason why when they passed a mast which held a banner for House Lannister wrapped around it. So Tywin Lannister had come out from under his rock? For whom had he declared? Obviously the Royal Fleet had met them in battle as Barristan also saw Targaryen banners on other masts. He'd get the answer out of these survivors, but not now, not while they all looked as though they were like to die of dehydration—the ironic death of many a sailor whose ship was wrecked in salty seas. The few men they rescued were sailors of some sort—both Targaryen and Lannister—and frightened cabin boys

As they returned to the boat they passed a particularly large chunk of a mast, from which Barristan heard crying. He motioned for Garth to maneuver around the mast so that they could rescue the likely frightened cabin boy hiding in the lookout nest of the mast that was half in and out of the water. What shocked Barristan though was when he came upon the sight of not another frightened cabin boy, but that of the Princess Rhaenys!

Seven Hells! Did Elia and Rhaella sail out with the child in an attempt to escape Dragonstone before the Lannisters arrived, only to be caught?

"Ser Barry!" cried out the toddler gleefully at the sight of him, and Barristan had the boat come alongside the mast so he could easily pick up the soaked Rhaenys and bring her aboard the boat. The girl immediately clung to him, refusing to let go of him as she embraced him with as tight a hug as her three namedays could muster, crying onto his shoulder as he rubbed his palm against her back to soothe her. Rhaenys' long brown hair—made crusty and stringy by the seawater blew in his face, but in that moment Barristan cared not for anything but that the Princess was happy. And it was then Barristan realized that all he wanted to do was ensure her safety and happiness for as long as he lived.