7th Month of 298 A.C. Long Lake
Robb Stark
It had taken him a long time, but he had finally found the place where the sword was. The original Ice, long thought lost, had been trapped within the ice of Long Lake for centuries, perhaps even thousands of years, and now Robb was going to claim in, and with it he would get the power the king had promised him. With him were Ser Rodrik Cassel, Theon and a fair few others from Winterfell and some from Last Hearth as well, the truest of Stark bannermen being trusted with seeing this unveiling, and as such the power that would come with it. Robb dismounted from his horse and waited for his companions to do the same, and then they walked toward where the sword stood glinting in the sunlight.
"Can you see it my men, the sword that was forged from the ice made to make the wall. Brandon the Builder's sword, and the sword of my family before the Valyrian sword came from the east. This is my destiny, my birthright." Robb says.
"Are you certain of this my lord Robb?" Ser Rodrik asks. "Should we not send word to King's Landing, and ask Lord Eddard about this?"
Robb stops a moment and then looks at the old knight. "No Ser, the king has asked that I find the sword and use it. I intend to do that. My father has his ice, and now I shall have mine."
There is a moment's silence and then Ser Rodrik bows his head. "Very well my lord, let us proceed then."
Robb walks forward then, his heart is hammering, he can feel the anticipation and excitement before him and in the men around him, but before he can even step onto the ice a voice calls out. "Halt! Who goes there?"
Robb turns to look where the voice is coming from and sees himself looking at a man with a long face, and grey hair. Very long grey hair, and a long beard as well. "I am Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell, and son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Who are you?"
The figure merely snorts then. "So you come from that fool Brandon's line then? Pah, I should have known this day would come. He was always obsessed with finding the damned sword, it probably cost him his life you know?"
Robb looks at the man. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"Who I am is not important for what you hope to achieve. You need only know that I have been here for a long, long time. A punishment that was put on me by my elders for not allowing some stupidity to stand or the other. And now you want to know how to take the sword from the ice?" the figure replies.
Robb looks at the figure and then says. "I know how to remove the sword from ice old man."
The figure laughs. "Old man eh? Now you definitely are Brandon's descendant. Ah and how do you remove the sword from ice then boy?"
Robb pulls out the vial from his pocket, the vial that the king had given him. "This is needed, and I am needed there. So if you would, move out of the way."
The figure looks shocked at this, and asks. "Where did you get that damned thing from? It was supposed to be gone."
Robb stops, halfway to the ice and merely responds. "A flayed man gave it to me." And with that he walks on, continuing to where the sword is buried in the ice. He stops before it and looks at the sword, the hilt is toward him, begging for him to pull it out, but he knows that he shall need to wait a moment first. He undoes the lid on the vial, and takes a drink from it, a small sip, nothing big, before putting some of the blood on his hands, and then he says a quick prayer and then he places his hands on the hilt. It is a strain, the sword is stuck quite firmly in the ice, and Robb swears he can hear a lady singing, he is not sure where the singing is coming from, but he is sure that it is a lady. He looks behind him and his men have their hands over their ears, as if it is paining them. The only one who does not is the old man.
The old man sees him looking at him and merely smiles. "She has awoken, the lady of the lake. And she does not want her son to go. She is challenging you. Be ready for the memories."
"What memories?" Robb asks, but then he is hit with them. A man who looks a lot like his father, forging a sword from ice, and a woman's blood, tears staining the blade as it is made, and the sword being drawn in a battle, where dead things roam and the man's son lives as death itself. The fighting goes on and on, and nearly breaks the man but he comes out alive, and soon enough, a crown sits on his head, ready and waiting for the time when he can sleep once more. The memories change once more, and this time, a woman is singing to her babe, as her husband cleans the sword, a reddish glow on it, and then the vision changes and the wolves of the night come to break their spirits, and the men and women fight, and the child is taken.
And then there is a voice, a soft voice. "Do you think you can wield the sword Robb? Do you think you can bear the burden that comes from having such power?"
"Yes, I can. I am a wolf. I can fight the good fight." Robb growls.
"Even if that means learning things you would rather not learn about your family?" the woman asks.
"We all must learn to deal with things that are unpleasant, I am a man I can handle it." Robb responds.
"Then pull the sword, do it as the man you claim to be, do it and know that I love you." the voice says.
That last word confuses Robb, and makes him think of his mother, but then another image enters his head, but it is gone to quickly for him to process it, all he sees is brown hair. But then, he hears a cheer, and he looks down to find the sword in his hands, gleaming in the sunlight. He looks at it and smiles.
Dragonstone
Lord Stannis Baratheon
He felt sick, as if he were beginning to cave into some sort of pressure, he did not know what it was, but he felt as if there was something trying to force its way into his head. He did not sleep at night, nor did he eat much and he knew he was becoming weaker and weaker, but he knew not what to do about that. There was far too much going on inside his head for him to truly understand what it was, but there were more important things to think about as well. That was why he had called the war council, and he knew he needed to think about that now, not something as ridiculous as his own health.
"We have the entire royal fleet with us here at Dragonstone, where are the Targaryens?" Stannis asks.
Lord Velaryon speaks then. "From my allies in Essos, it seems they are travelling toward Vaes Dothrak. But a word in the right ear could have them coming quickly back to Pentos."
Stannis looks at the man and asks. "And pray tell me, what will the spider want in payment for this?" He still wonders how it is that he has come to serve the dragons, considering his choices. Will they accept him?
"Nothing, he merely wants the rightful king of Westeros restored to the throne. A simple messenger would be sent out and would find the king and his sister with the Dothraki Khal as it were." Velaryon responds.
"But how do we know the Dothraki will return? For all we know the horselords could be determined to make it to Vaes Dothrak before they even consider returning toward Pentos." Lord Celtigar says. "And then there is the fact that the Dothraki are scared of the sea. How does the spider propose that they overcome that fear?"
"A valid question, and one that I have yet to see any answers for. Lord Velaryon?" Stannis asks.
Lord Velaryon looks somewhat uncomfortable then, but it is not he who answers, but rather Melisandre. "The Dothraki will come because they know that their khaleesi's child will lead them to glory. It has been shown in the flames, soon enough they will come and muster. Ships must be sent to Pentos."
"And if there is no one who turns up to board those ships?" Ser Davos asks. "We would have opened ourselves up to something dangerous."
"They shall come, for there is power in the words of their priestess. The witches of Vaes Dothrak are some of the most convincing. They will give them the prophecy, and Khal Drogo will come." Melisandre says.
"What? Just as you said the boy on the throne would die before his wife became pregnant?" Ser Davos asks disbelievingly.
There is a moment's silence and then Lord Velaryon speaks. "The spider has sent word that the boy on the throne means to send someone to bring the Princess Daenaerys to him in chains. We can intercept them, or perhaps convince Ser Jorah to send the person on his way. Ser Jorah wants to return home, and we can offer him the safest way back."
Stannis grinds his teeth then. "Mormont is a oath breaker, and someone without honour or dignity. If he seeks to use the Princess to return home, then the best way to get them to come back is to expose him."
"What would you suggest my lord?" Lord Celtigar asks. "How do we prove these accusations?"
Stannis considers this a moment and then says. "We send written proof, as there is always written proof of what is discussed during the council meetings, and I have the ones that indicate Mormont as the traitor he is. Furthermore, we bring the true relic of the dynasty to the king."
There is hushed silence then, and Stannis looks at Ser Davos, who nods and produces the box. "The crown of the conqueror, found deep within the bowels of Dragonstone. King Viserys will know the truth of what Lord Stannis is saying with this being presented."
There is another silence, and then Lord Velaryon speaks. "And was there anything else found within the bowels of this castle my lord? Anything else that might well make the king more amenable to your pledge of allegiance?"
Stannis looks at the Lord of Driftmark and merely says. "Yes, they are being taken as well." he takes a sip of water, and then says. "Ninety warships shall sail for Pentos, we shall bring the king and whatever men he can bring with him to Westeros. Lord Velaryon you shall command those ships and you shall make landing in the crownlands when that is done. The rest of the fleet shall set sail for Storm's End, it is time we made my brother sweat."
There is a brief pause and then Ser Axell speaks. "A wise plan my lord, and one that is sure to bring the king much benefit. Going for Storm's End will force Lord Renly to decide on what course of action he wants to take. And knowing him as a young man, no doubt he will rush to protect his fortress leaving himself open to being attacked."
"I would urge caution my lord." Lord Velaryon says. "Would it not be better to send the full might of the fleet either to the crownlands or into the riverlands? There are loyalists within the riverlands as well, who are waiting for the right moment to come out of the shadows. The king might well prefer that."
Stannis looks at the man with a hard glare, and Velaryon stares right back at him. "Storm's End will bring us more men than might be first thought. Right now the might of Dragonstone is not enough to win the throne. Storm's End will bring the Stormlands. I know the Stormlords, and I know that they will chafe under the roses. My brother might be their preferred choice as lord, but the roses are not their bed mates. Tell the king that should he question you."