Stannis XIX

He read the letter from the Reach and then folded it away. So Mace was a fool and a failure but not a traitor. Treason and he would have had the man executed no matter what but a failure could be left to rot with what was left of the Night's Watch.

A dead Mace would have forced him to pick a new Master of Whispers. Bella Bolton had been groomed for Olenna's seat but she was still too young - and Olenna's student which would have been dangerous.

Stannis could still see Olenna sat across from him in private, the old woman near to begging. He felt grateful in a way that she had not. He wouldn't have bent to it and to have humbled herself for nothing... the Queen of Thorns would be a dangerous foe. More dangerous in her way than all the armies of the Reach.

Cassana had done well, as had Oberyn. The Tyrells were a more manageable problem, one that could be put aside for a while. Olenna could not say that her son and her grandchildren had not been spared as much as possible under the circumstances. Whether that would satiate her...

Stannis shrugged to himself. Who could know another man's mind, much less a woman's? Aemma and Alysanne would be watching her. Hopefully that would be enough.

The heavy wagons clattered along the Kingsroad behind the mounted nobles. After months in King's Landing, barely even leaving the Crown of Westeros, Stannis felt relieved to be out on a long ride, even if it meant riding into the cold north wind. The aches and strains of the first few days had showed that he'd softened up and he'd pushed the pace as a result.

If the Regent was weak then the King would be weak. If the King was weak the kingdoms would follow.

Eddard rode a discreet distance behind, surrounded by squires and pages his own age. They talked of the usual things boys their age did - horses, hunting, arms practise. When they thought their elders couldn't hear them they talked of maids too. Given how much Eddard reminded Stannis of Robert at the same age he wouldn't be surprised if someday the boy's guards had to report a maid in the boy's bed.

The resemblence to Robert was a reassurance at times. Stannis' elder brother had paid far more attention to the lessons of Maester Cressen than it had appeared at the time. Hopefully it would be the same with Eddard because he surely hid any signs of such astutely. Not that he was stupid, but...

Stannis sighed.

"Is something wrong?" Daenerys didn't ride with the boys. A girl her age needed additional security and it seemed simplest to Stannis to keep her guards and his together so she rode near to him more often than not. Her long silver hair flowed unbound behind her and occasionally drew the attention of Eddard's companions.

Keep dreaming boys, Stannis thought gruffly. But lay one finger on her and you'll answer to me. And not just for the obvious reasons. "The business of the kingdom," he said simply. "The Night's Watch took heavy casualties fighting at the Bloody Ford." Which wasn't actually related to her question but there was no need for her to know that. "Rodrik Harlaw's men are still holding at Westwatch and there are those at Long Lake but Robb Stark has so few that you could count them on the fingers of one hand."

"I thought that the Night's Watch were independent of the crown?"

"They no longer have the Gift to supply themselves from," he explained. "Now they depend on donations from the lords that they fight alongside. Harlaw suggests spreading songs glorifying their stand at the ford but he doesn't seem to have sought permission from Lord Commander Thorne so the two of them have fallen out again."

"Does that happen often?"

"Thorne is proud and stubborn. Harlaw is cleverer but not so clever as he thinks." Stannis ground his teeth. "And they both want me to take their side."

Daenerys nodded. "Prince Stannis... is my brother in trouble for returning from Essos?"

"What? No. He wasn't banished."

She relaxed in her saddle slightly. "Thank you. I was concerned, you seemed angry when you read the letter from Lord Edmure."

Had he? "He appears to keep poor company. One of the Blackfyres is with him."

"I thought Lord Barristan had killed the last of them, long ago."

Stannis shook his head. "Through their male line only. And he seems not to be a man to be trusted. You would not remember Varys."

The girl thought. "Do you mean the broadsheet printer in Pentos?"

"He was your father's Master of Whispers and my brother banished him."

"Oh? Oh!" Daenerys covered her mouth. "He's a Blackfyre pretender? Should you not..." She paused. "Uncle, the realm cannot afford a civil war. I believe that Aenys Blackfyre was... dealt with at the Great Council of 233. If the Blackfyre has been banished once..."

"The thought has crossed my mind," Stannis told her sourly. Brynden Rivers had been the man who offered Aenys safe conduct and then had him beheaded on arrival. Aegon Targaryen had given his great-uncle the choice between death and the black for that murder. "But Prince Stark has extended safe conduct to him and I am no Bloodraven."

Viserys XVI

Darry was awash with children. It had begun with Northern lords sending their younger children to foster with kinsmen and allies, ensuring their houses would have an heir safe beneath the Neck. Several lords had even paid for the families of their armsmen and sworn swords to be sent south.

What many forgot was that the smallfolk could be as shrewd as any Maester and there had been a flood of smallholders taking shelter for the winter. Ships departed northern ports heavily loaded and scarcely a day went by riding south on the kingsroad that their party hadn't passed several families making the best pace they could, from one village to the next. And as those refugees bought, borrowed or outright stole food from the villages on the road, more smallfolk felt they had no choice but to follow suit.

As a port town positioned near the Kingsroad, Darry wasn't an uncommon destination. Viserys had been glad of the excuse to visit the castle's tombs and claim at least a few hours of peace.

"Viserys?"

He looked up as Bronn entered the catacombs, a torch blazing in one hand. "Bronn."

"Woman with a child to see you. Well, I say child. Old enough that if you were a bit indiscreet before you crossed the Narrow Sea..."

"I don't have any bastards." Viserys dusted off his knees as he rose. "I'm careful about that."

"She's a handsome woman. I wouldn't have blamed you." The sellsword looked at the niche. "Who are you praying for?"

"Ser Willem Darry. He was Master at Arms for my family before... when I was a child." Viserys rubbed his face. "He was killed trying to escape to Essos with Daenerys and I when the Baratheons came to Dragonstone."

"Well... you got there in the end, right?"

"He was loyal and deserved better. But that's not uncommon."

The woman was Ashara Dayne - Ashara Selmy now and for many years now but Viserys remembered her best from the Red Court under his father - she'd been one of Elia's ladies-in-waiting. The boy with her was nearly a man's age and something about how he held himself reminded the Targaryen of Arthur Dayne. He had the light hair that cropped up every now and then in House Dayne, but the height and the eyes were more his father's. Viserys thought Barristan Selmy had a son who might do credit to the legends of both father and uncle. "Lady Selmy. Lord Selmy."

"Ser Viserys." Ashara met his eyes with no more than a glimpse to the sword that caught her son's attention.

Viserys bowed. "I heard of your husbands death and I regret it. He was a fine man and it was my honour to be knighted by him."

"Father knighted you?" asked the boy, attention drawn away from the greatsword.

"Aye. At Lannisport, after the Greyjoys fell." Viserys lifted the sword and took the hilt. "If I may...?"

Ashara nodded and took a half-step back, giving him room. He slid the scabbard away, revealing the blade of white metal. It was said that Dawn was forged with steel from a falling star. "My brother's sword," she said quietly.

"Another loyal man who deserved better." Viserys returned ths sword to his scabbard and offered it to her. "I heard you will be sending your son to Starfall. Perhaps he can return it to Lord Dayne."

"I'm not going south. I'm old enough to fight!"

"No one is old enough for war. It's something we have to do anyway."

The boy - Viserys wasn't sure what his name was - shook his head. "You were my age when King Robert made you his squire. I could be your squire."

"Not unless your mother gives her consent." Viserys raised his free hand. "That's not me trying to turn you away, Lord Selmy. You're not of age. Until you are, she has the final say."

Ashara looked at Dawn. "If you were to take Dawn to my brother at Starfall - taking Duncan with you as your squire - then months more to come north again."

"Mother!"

"You're your father's son. I can't hope to keep you from battle forever."

"I'm sorry. I don't know that I'll be free to go to Starfall. Until I've spoken to the Lord Regent, to my sister... to King Eddard as well... I don't know where I'll be going."

"The roads will be crowded while the court is here," Ashara told him. "Until then we'll remain guests here. If you are turning south, please send me word."

"I'll do that."

He joined Bronn at the exit to the tombs and the two made their way back towards their lodgings. Fortunately the Targaryen name was still enough to command some respect and he'd secured two rooms at an inn. Most knights around Darry were staying in tents and other temporary shelters.

Varys was waiting outside. "Did you hear the news," he asked as soon as he saw them.

"The King has arrived then?"

"The King, yes." The eunuch had shaved his head bare again. "However..."

There was a huge crowd to either side of the Kingsroad to the south. Viserys scrambled up a stairway and then hauled himself onto the roof of a shop overlooking the route. The owner might have protested but he wasn't in evidence - possibly he was out in the crowd.

The other three joined him on the roof, treading carefully to avoid breaking beams that creaked beneath the tiles. "I can't believe it."

"Do you have no faith in your sister?" asked Thoros mildly. "With what you told us about the Bloodraven..."

"It's more that the Baratheons allowed this in the first place."

Down below them, the young King rode beside his uncle into Darry. Behind, caged up in wagons that had clearly been built for the purpose, were dragons.

One was black with red scales on the underside of its long neck. The second had more of a violet hue that Viserys found impossible not to associate with the colour of his own eyes. Finally, the third was slate-grey with crimson spines along its back.

The appearance of the dragons sent ripples through the crowd. The more cautious wished to back away - the more reckless wished to move closer. Fortunately for the latter's safety, the escort of King's Men were supported by a cordon of City Watchmen from King's Landing who were well used to keeping crowds under control.

Moving from wagon to wagon, a girl with silver hair was doing what she could to keep the pony-sized dragons calm despite the noise of the crowd. "Your sister?" asked Bronn, nodding to her.

"When I left she was a little girl."

"Girls grow up," Bronn pointed out. "I don't recall you minding that time in Lys..."

"It's different when it's my sister."

"Well get yourself a big stick. Because unless I'm seeing things, there are a lot of men out there who've noticed she's grown up now. And she isn't under Robert Baratheon's protection any more."

Obara VIII

The docks at Darry weren't especially impressive and they rocked beneath Obara's feet. She took it as a reminder of the unsteady ground she trod politically.

Eddard wasn't in evidence but Stannis stood on the shore, Lord Darry at his side flanked by a servant with bread and salt. Viserys, more grizzled than she had expected and wearing a close-cropped beard, stood with them. Interesting and perhaps a promising factor.

"Obara," Stannis said in greetings.

She curtsied, although her dress wasn't really made for that. "Are we on first terms still, my lord regent?"

"At least for now." He glared past her at the ships anchored outside Darry's harbour. The broad estuary of the Trident was safe enough for them... but they were obviously packed with armed men. "You travel in interesting company."

"The best I could do," she confessed to him. "It won't surprise you to learn that talk was made of seizing King's Landing and making an alliance with the Tyrells."

"A poor plan."

"But one that could have been troublesome." Obara turned to the other men. "Lord Darry, Ser Viserys."

Viserys bowed in a courtly fashion and kissed her hand. Lord Darry seemed more hesitant. "You may as well offer bread and salt now," the former advised the latter. "I can't see the Lord Regent turning away his brother's widow."

Darry looked plaintively to Stannis who ignored him. "Speak plainly to me, Obara. What is your purpose here?"

"Without my uncle's consent certain Targaryen loyalists contacted the Golden Company. Since one is my sister, the prince asked me to try to deter them."

"It's said that the Golden Company have ten thousand men. We have more here, at least for now. Unless their captain is a fool, he hasn't come to spark another Blackfyre rebellion."

"Aside from all else, they lack a Blackfyre."

Stannis made a coughing sound and Obara thought it might be as close to a laugh as she'd heard from him. "They can have ours."

Viserys shrugged. "You aren't the only one who arrived with unwelcome company," he informed Obara, somewhat cryptically. "A Targaryen restoration... and no one invited me? Do they have plans for my sweet sister?"

"Ah... in a sense. Your nephew Prince Aegon is at the head of the company and... Well, you know Targaryen marriage traditions."

Viserys rubbed the side of his face. "Is that the idea?"

"Westeros has a king already."

Obara turned back to Stannis. "If he chooses to press his claim then Dorne will not support him. At the moment all he has told me he will ask is the same opportunity you intend to offer to any man here: the chance to ride a dragon."

Stannis stiffened. "How could he know that? In Essos, thousands of miles away? We didn't announce it until after we left King's Landing."

"I told them. My uncle told me. Who told him..." Obara spread her hands. "Olenna Tyrell isn't the only one who listens to whispers."

"You told him?" Stannis reached out without looking, taking bread from the servant, grinding it in the salt and then handed the salted bread to Obara. "Eat this before I'm tempted beyond reason."

Obara bit into the loaf, choking down a mouthful. "It convinced Aegon that war was not the answer."

"He has an army with him, that does not speak of peace."

"How could your uncle tell you this?" Viserys tugged on his beard. "The timing doesn't work, not for you to cross the Narrow Sea in the time it took Daenerys to come here from. Even a raven would take time."

"Would a Bloodraven?" Obara saw that hit home. "There are ways of sending messages that are faster than ravens. My uncle has tools that I do not. Aegon is ambitious - but he's not a fool. Right now, none of us can afford a civil war and if his Targaryen blood means he can ride a dragon..."

"Then he's a threat to my nephew," said Stannis flatly.

"Are you sure he is a Targaryen?" asked Viserys quietly. "I thought Rhaegar's children died with their mother. If he's an imposter, just approaching the dragons could be courting death."

"The only man who knows for sure is Varys. Aegon claims that he was smuggled out as a baby, replaced by another child to prevent his grandfather from learning that one of his heirs was outside of his control. And could you believe anything the Spider says?"

Viserys snorted, yielding the point. "Daenerys will ride a dragon, one of three. If the third is someone loyal to Eddard, he'll be secure whatever Aegon manages."

"And if the third is you? Three Targaryens, three dragons..."

"It won't be." Obara saw Viserys look aside. "I've learned bitter truths, among them that dragons are my sister's destiny, but not mine."

Stannis' jaw jutted out. "You've never met this boy and you'd trust him with a dragon?"

"The chance to try - although in this case I'd offer a bargain. He brought ten thousand fighting men here after all. They can fight for Eddard as well as they can for Aegon. The gods know, there will be lordless lands when this war is done. Any who survive will have earned a reward," Viserys replied cynically.

Cassana VII

While Cassana was pleased to see Viserys had survived his trip to the North, she was shocked at the sight of Eddard Stark. The Prince of the North was haggard and when he walked without other's assistance he needed a stick in his one remaining hand to lean upon. He was a far cry from the powerful figure she remembered from his time as Hand of the King.

"I cannot serve as Eddard's Hand, Stannis." The Stark shook his head. "There are things I need to do."

"The realm needs strong leadership."

"I'm not the man who can give them that." The one-handed prince rubbed his face. "I'm... In all but name, Robb rules the North now. I need to go to the Isle of Faces. There are strange things happening in the North."

"Really?" There was an immense weight to Stannis' words.

Stark shook his head. "More than that. I saw Sansa... I think there may be answers on the Isle. This is important, my lord regent. Perhaps as important as the dragons."

"Very well. If you cannot support the Crown I have no reason to bar you from your... travels." Stannis turned and walked away stiffly.

Cassana looked after him for a moment and then at Stark. "You supported my father without question." She wasn't sure if she meant the implicit accusation.

"I believe your father would have supported me in this." He set his jaw. "Armies can fight the wights but we haven't even seen one of the Others yet and we've no real idea what they want or how far they'll go in pursuit of it."

"You think you can find answers on the Isle of Faces?"

"Maybe." The man glanced over to where a crowd was gathering around the enclosure where Daenerys and the dragons were housed. "It sounds as if Aegon has arrived. My sons wouldn't forgive me for missing this."

Cassana nodded and the two walked towards the enclosure, Ser Mandon Moore following Cassana. "Do you think he's really a Targaryen?"

"It's as Obara said. Only Varys knows for sure, and no one will believe an answer he gives. Although tens of thousands read his broadsheet and appeared to accept everything written there."

She nodded. "He believes it, though. And if he does manage to bond with one of the dragons then most of Westeros will accept it as true. Targaryens and dragons are seen as inseperable here. It isn't like Essos where they remember there were many Valyrian Houses."

"It doesn't really affect your brother's legitimacy. Robert's claim was vested on disinheriting all of Aerys' line, including his grandson."

"Some would say that dragons count for more than laws."

"That was the argument of Aegon the First. Do you think it's an arguement your father would accept?"

She shook her head. "No. But he didn't always have things go his way."

With one of the Royal Guard as a mute warning, the crowd didn't offer any obstacle to Cassana and the northern prince. Rather than take to the seats where Stannis and his officers sat to watch as men assayed the dragons, Cassana went to where Viserys was leant over a wooden fence that had been marked out as a safe area. Heralds had announced repeatedly that the dragons were restrained sufficiently far behind the fence that their flames shouldn't threaten anyone on the far side of it. Since Stannis had also bluntly announced that neither he nor Lord Darry would accept any culpability for the deaths of someone straying past it, the barrier was somewhat respected.

"Prince Stark." The silver-haired knight turned, having seen the man first out of the corner of his eye and then bowed more deeply. "And Cassana. It's been many years."

"Since you left like a thief in the night."

"Hardly a thief. And it was at the crack of dawn. I'd have done myself an injury going down the stairs of the Crown at night."

Cassana smirked. "You left with a pocket full of gold and without telling anyone. I'm not saying you're a thief but you surely acted like one."

"Details, details." He gestured towards the dragons. "Are you here to admire them or to make wagers on my supposed-nephew's luck?"

Two of the dragons were asleep, only the violet-hued one on its feet and eyeing the crowd speculatively. Cassana hadn't seen them in months and they'd grown significantly. It wouldn't be too much longer, she guessed, before they could carry riders. Chains bound them to the ground and to heavy weights. Only the black - Banthis, Daenerys had named him - was in any sense biddable and that only to Daenerys. He was the first hatched although Cassana wasn't sure if that made a difference.

"You don't believe he's really your nephew?"

"I haven't really had a chance to speak to him. I do think he believes it." The Targaryen grimaced. "If he manages to become a dragonrider I suppose I'll have no choice but to accept him."

There was a small outcry as another party reached the edge of the fence and the youth in question vaulted smoothly over it. A balding man in armour joined him a moment later and was followed by Prince Oberyn's daughter Nymeria, only slightly hampered by her skirts.

"I suppose we're about to find out," Cassana mumured.

"Lord Regent." Aegon directed a shallow bow towards Stannis. "I trust you've no second thoughts on our agreement."

"With the stipulation that I don't accept any claims on lands lost in banishment, I've agreed to end the exile of the Golden Company," Stannis declared sourly. "And in the name of King Eddard I confirm that you may stand first among those who would ride dragons in the defense of Westeros. Have you second thoughts, Strickland?"

The armoured man bowed more deeply than Aegon had. "Whatever the outcome today, we will march north in defense of our ancient homeland," he pledged.

"The dragons are before you." Stannis seated himself and gestured towards them. "Make your attempt."

Aegon walked forward and Cassana had to force herself to breathe. If he succeeded then he would be a dangerous threat to House Baratheon. Daenerys might remain loyal to them - Cassana hoped that she would - but an ambitious royal rival with a dragon at their command was a nightmare that had consumed Westeros in war once before. Then again, the Blackfyre Rebellions showed that dragons weren't a requirement for that.

Speaking of which, the sword at Aegon's side drew her attention. A crosspiece in the form of dragon's heads, grip bound in black leather and a ruby set in the hilt... longer than most knight's swords by more than a handspan.

"Blackfyre," Viserys said with certainty, having seen the same thing. "The Golden Company recovered it after the death of each pretender to wield it."

"Did they ever offer it to you?"

"I never encountered them when I was in Essos." His lips curled. "And I doubt I would have impressed them. I must wonder why they are so ready to support Aegon."

"Connington must have spent years persuading them."

"Perhaps. How does Mya feel about that?"

"I haven't heard from her. She's staying in Griffin's Roost as far as I know."

Aegon circled the dragons, eyeing each in turn. Banthis snorted at him and the youth made a gesture, a salute of some kind Cassana thought, and moved past the black dragon.

Cassana saw her brother lean forwards from where he sat next to Stannis, watching as Aegon considered the grey and then stepped closer to the violet dragon, who was beginning to stir. Obara, wearing Baratheon colours as she sat in the royal box, was paler than usual as she watched the dragon wake. Qelos, he was called. The slightest of the three but not by much. He had a lean and dangerous look.

Aegon stepped closer and Qelos turned his neck to look at the boy. Rather than freezing at the gaze, he kept advancing, meeting those slit eyes evenly.

"He has no fear." Viserys' voice was very low.

Slowly but implacably, Aegon closed in until he was close enough to reach out and touch the dragon's face. Very carefully he ran his bare finger-tips across the scales.

Qelos flinched back and Aegon paused, met it's gaze again and then reached out again, stroking the dragon's head, avoiding the jaws, the eyes and the nose. Probably touching those sensitive areas would be taken as a threat.

"Is it working?" Viserys' eyes were narrowed to slits. "Is he going to bond with it?"

"I'm not sure. Daenerys has been mothering them since they were born."

Aegon cupped his hands behind Qelos' head. "You are -"

The dragon's jaws snapped open and then closed again.

"No," Cassana said numbly as a streamer of fire erupted from between teeth locked on either side of Aegon's skull. The youth had no time to scream but many in the crowd did so for him. "No, I don't think that's..." She choked.

Awakened by the sounds, Banthis and the grey-scaled Orbar began to join Qelos in tearing at the burning body, unconcerned by the flames.

"Pull them off!" ordered Stannis, rising to his feet. He strode forwards as Daenerys and her helpers began pulling on the chains. Platters of meat were pushed forwards to offer the three more tempting viands, conveniently in the direction that the chains were drawing them.

The worst of the screams died down although Cassana saw that Nymeria had slumped back against the fence, staring wide-eyed at what was left of the boy she'd sworn herself to.

Stannis walked closer as the dragons were pulled back. She saw that he was watching them carefully to see that he was staying outside the reach of their flames. When he reached Aegon's body, he seized the body by the one shoulder not on fire and started pulling it back out of the way. The long scabbard tangled in Aegon's legs and twisted the body almost out of the regent's grip.

With a grunt, Stannis turned and drew Blackfyre out of the scabbard, removing it as an obstacle. He reached the fence again and eager hands took Aegon's body. Cassana was just close enough to see Stannis blink as he realised the screams of horror were being replaced with cries of admiration for his actions.

"Robert himself couldn't have done better," Eddard Stark murmured as Cassana saw her brother accepting Blackfyre from their uncle's hands.