Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire

Alyssa I Targaryen

Book : The War of the Four Sovereigns

Chapter 9: Finishing the Conquest

Beta:

Trigger warning: Implied canon typical underage

Alyssa looked through her Scrying spell and surveyed the spot near the Golden Tooth in the distant Westerlands where Lady Maege Mormont stood. It was a reasonably flat patch of land surrounded by relatively high hills, the perfect place for an army to magically appear.

Cutting her spell, Alyssa turned to Robb as he sat behind her on Ghost's back gripping one of his frigid spines through a thick set of gloves. A needless precaution he had insisted on despite the protection against the cold the Mage Armor she had cast on him provided.

"Lady Maege has chosen a good spot," Alyssa told her brother.

"I have no doubt," Robb told her with a shrug, unimpressed with her doubt. "She is very capable."

Alyssa giggled at his reaction even as she turned to the empty plain just outside her army's camp outside the walls of King's Landing and cast her spell.

"Gate!" She shouted, pumping a sizable fraction of her magic into the spell and creating a wide oval portal of swirling darkness. "Ghost, take us up."

Her dragon growled eagerly and leapt in the air where he began to circle the entrance to the portal.

"My loyal soldiers!" Alyssa shouted down at her men, all lined up in marching order and awaiting her command. "Beyond this portal is the Westerlands, our enemies. And it is far past time to bring our wrath. So march forth, my brave warriors! Let us go forth and take another step in reuniting the Realm! Commanders! Begin your march!"

As the various units began moving to obey, Alyssa sent a wordless command to Ghost and the great dragon flew through her Gate portal. The other side was exactly as she had seen it while using Scrying, a modest valley with reasonably flat ground and surrounded by hills tall enough to hide her army as it marched out of her portal. Standing at the far end of the valley from the portal was a small encampment flying banners from the North and the Riverlands.

"Over there, Ghost." Alyssa told her friend even as he adjusted his flight to head towards the cleared space in the middle of the small army just in front of a tent where a group of people stood waiting.

In moments, he had landed and Alyssa was using Levitate to help herself and her fellow riders off Ghost's back.

"Your grace, welcome to the Golden Tooth," The short, stout, grey-haired woman in patched ringmail and with a spiked mace swinging from her waist that was at the head of the welcoming party said as she fell to one knee in greeting.

"Rise Lady Mormont, my lords," Alyssa said with the ease of practice whilst gesturing for the kneeling lords and their men to stand. "It is my pleasure to be here. Is Kevan Lannister still marching towards us?"

"Yes, he aims to retake the Golden Tooth." The She-Bear said after a moment of shock that Alyssa was jumping into the heat of things, though when she had processed it continued with a smile. "Our scouts report his host to be about fifteen thousand strong and at most two days away."

"Only fifteen thousand? The combined army of Northmen and Rivermen already here number twenty thousand already! How could he think to win with only three quarters that number?"

"Desperation and hope that better knowledge of the terrain will deliver a miracle I imagine," Lady Maege said with a shrug.

"If that's the case than any hope of that is gone." Robb said with cold viciousness. "We've brought 35,000 Reachmen, Crownlander and Stormlander veterans of the Battle of Blackwater with us. The Lannisters will stand no chance now."

"Indeed," the head of House Mormont nodded. "But, if you like, your grace can continue this inside the tent where we can be more comfortable?"

"Of course," Alyssa said with a slight blush as she realized her eagerness had made her host seem impolite. "Lead the way, Lady Mormont.

"I honestly do not understand why you are disappointed that Stannis' Hand refused your offer to bend the knee," Loras said spitting the late middle Baratheon brother's name out venomously. "I understand that Shireen would have liked to meet him again but he is taking the Black, not dead."

Before Alyssa could reply she was forced to grip the frozen spike that she was using to stay on Ghost's back harder as a change in the air currents caused her dragon to suddenly shift a little more than usual to maintain the hovering position in the clouds over the Golden Tooth they had held for the last fifteen minutes.

"Despite his common birth, he is a resourceful man Loras." Alyssa replied once Ghost had stabilized his flight. "And I appreciate talent."

That I remember him from my past life as a level headed and honorable man helps as well.

"I'm sure we can find someone just as capable, your grace." Ser Wendel opined.

"Exactly," Loras said with a firm nod. "So stop letting the news affect you. We need you focused on the upcoming battle."

"I know, Loras." Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes allowing a familiarity between her Lord Commander, and goodbrother in all but name, and herself that she only did in private. Though with only Ghost and the trusted Ser Wendel as witnesses, this was probably private enough.

"I honestly don't know why you're so affected anyways." Loras commented. "You don't even know the man! Yet you've been upset since you received the raven this morning."

I may not have known him in this life, perhaps. But in my last I trusted him.

"Enough chiding, Loras." Alyssa said with a pout. "I'll stop so please do the same."

"Only if you do stop. I reserve the right to speak up if you let your upset get the better of you again."

"That's fair."

"Your grace, Lord Commander," Ser Wendel cried out cutting off their spat. "Looks like the Westermen are moving in to attack."

"He must not be aware of our arrival." Loras noted with a frown as he and Alyssa both looked down to see that, sure enough, the Lannister army was moving to attack the Northmen and Riverlands formed up in front of them and blocking their way to the Golden Tooth.

"Either that or he doesn't believe it." Alyssa said offering an alternative. "Despite everything I've done so far, many still seem to think my magic and even Ghost are just myths."

"Let us disabuse them of that notion shall we?" Loras said with an eager grin.

"Indeed," Alyssa agreed. "Ghost! You know what to do!"

Her dragon roared in happy reply and dove down through the clouds towards the Lannister host.

"Dracarys!" Alyssa ordered the moment they were within range and the mighty dragon breathed his breath of frost and flame over the ranks of the Westermen army.

Even as he strafed the enemy ranks, his riders were not idle with Loras and Ser Wendel taking aim with their longbows and shooting at anyone they spotted that appeared to be a commander. Ser Wendel of course scored much better by far in this regard but thanks to recent practice Loras' tally was still wholly respectable. For her own part, Alyssa rained down spell after spell on the enemy. Cone of Cold and Blizzard brought frigid death down upon them whilst Flame Strike and Firestorm conjured great blazes which consumed many a hapless soldier.

Such was the devastating effectiveness of their airborne assault that by the time Ghost banked away to circle around for a second strafing run, the Westermen ranks looked on the verge of breaking. The unexpected appearance on the field of the army she had brought from King's Landing was the death knell to their morale and as her thirty five thousand marched over the hills that concealed them, the Lannister army lost all cohesion as men turned and fled in panic.

"No mercy!" Alyssa shouted to her dragon and her Queensguard at the sight. "Not until they raise the flag of surrender!"

"Yes, your grace!" Loras and Ser Wendel shouted back in acknowledgement and Ghost sent her a wordless one through their link, even as they began their second run over the now routing Lannister forces.

"You will all have to choose," Alyssa said sternly to the various Lannisters, of all branches, that she had rounded up before her inside the Great Hall of Casterly Rock on the High Seat of which she now sat and passed judgement mere days after the Westermen army had been crushed at what her men were calling the Second Field of Fire. In the wake of which, the Westerland lords had surrendered en masse and she was free to fly directly to Casterly Rock via Gate which in turn had surrendered at the mere sight of Ghost and the small army that had escorted through the portal.

"Either you take your chances at trail or you for the men take the Black and the women the vows of the Silent Sisters." Alyssa decreed firmly, glaring down at the crowd of terrified golden haired, green eyed Lannisters.

"And who would judge these trails?" The fat Lady Genna Lannister demanded. "You, your grace?"

Even as she spat the honorific out and her family cowered at the defiance of the wife of the late and unlamented Ser Emmon Frey, Alyssa just raised an eyebrow. The woman was trying to provoke her. That much was obvious. The question was why? What did the last surviving sibling of the old lion hope to achieve by doing so?

"If you're hoping to anger me and get me to kill you so as to paint me a tyrant, you will fail." Alyssa told the woman with the largest bosom she had ever seen. It was frankly so immense that the Queen would have felt her own much more modest bust was inadequate in comparison if not for the fact the woman sporting said massive breasts was so very fat.

The Lannister frowned and Alyssa supposed that her guess had hit the mark.

"As for your question," Alyssa continued, ignoring the woman's dark look. "Your nephew Tyrion and his wife, my cousin, Sansa will be in charge of your fates should you seek trail as is their right as the new Lord and Lady Paramounts of the Westerlands."

Fearful murmurings spread through the crowd of Lannisters and Alyssa smirked. She knew well how badly the House and its branches treated her goodbrother. There would be no mercy for family from him. The Lannisters were about to reap what they had sowed as the one family member they had all treated like an outcast would soon hold power over their lives.

"For now though," Alyssa said silencing the muttering after enjoying the fear of her defeated enemies for a moment. "All of you, irrespective of age, gender, or rank will spend time in cells in the dungeons. You may inform me of your decisions regarding whether you wish to take vows on the morrow."

"You can't do that! We surrendered!" Lady Genna shouted, her broad and smooth face twisted in fearful anger.

"Unconditionally," Alyssa reminded the older woman as she gestured to her men who promptly began herding the terrified Lannisters out of the hall, physically dragging away those who resisted. "That means your treatment is entirely at my discretion or did you not understand that facet of what an unconditional surrender meant? If you expected better, you should have sued for terms."

Lady Genna paled as a pair of burly Mormont men grabbed her by her arms and forcibly began removing her from Alyssa's presence. The Queen watched with a malicious smile as all the Lannisters had been dragged away to join practically the entire household of Casterly Rock down in confinement. Though due to fears of overcrowding most were simply imprisoned inside the various large storage rooms that littered the interior of the great stone hill from which it had been carved. Though, Alyssa had given orders to keep the worst of the secure cells available for their new occupants.

Only when the last Lannister had been dragged away did Alyssa turn to other pressing affairs.

"Maester Creylen," Alyssa called out to the castle's Maester who looked deathly pale.

"Y-Yes, your grace?"

"I believe you have a raven for me?"

"Yes," the terrified man said as with all politeness he handed a raven's scroll to her. One forwarded to Casterly Rock from the Golden Tooth and originating from Lord Varys back in King's Landing.

Your grace,

The self-proclaimed King of the Iron Islands, Balon Greyjoy, is dead.

Your Master of Whisperers,

Lord Varys

The kraken king is dead? Alyssa thought as she blinked in surprise. She couldn't be sure but didn't this happen slightly later in her past life? Then again with all the changes to events, she could not be certain of things anymore. If Varys has managed to learn of it then it had to have happened at least a week ago, probably more. That means the Ironborn, if I remember the culture of those raiding savages correctly, would be organizing a Kingsmoot to select a new King by now. Hmm… Can I exploit that?

With much of her armies still busy securing the Westerlands and the Redwyne fleet still at least a few days from Lannisport, it would be tricky. But-

I can make it work. Alyssa thought as she began to piece together a plan.

Three weeks later found Alyssa looking through a Scrying spell that she had focused on Euron Greyjoy and saw with satisfaction that thanks to Varys' manipulation everyone she wanted was there in the Great Hall of Pyke, not just Asha, Victarion, and Aeron Greyjoy were there but also most of the prominent Ironborn lords had shown up at a Kingsmoot that the Crow's Eye had called.

It seems convincing each of the squabbling Greyjoys they had a realistic chance was all it was necessary. Alyssa thought as she finished tallying those in attendance. Time to pluck the fruit of my plotting.

"Ghost, take us in." Alyssa told her loyal familiar and the dragon dove down from the position he'd been holding over Pyke far above the cloud cover

"Dracarys!" Alyssa ordered as the castle came within view and Ghost obligingly unleashed his deadly mix of freezing and flaming breath. Stone melted and flash froze in quick succession, the rapid shift in temperatures causing it to violently explode. Thus Pyke's Great Keep where the Kingsmoot was being held was destroyed as the very stones of its walls detonated. Even then, Alyssa and Ghost did not relent and proceeded to make several passes to ensure everyone inside was killed.

"Destroy the rest of the castle too." Alyssa told Ghost when nothing stood of their first target but shattered rubble. "I'm going to check if any of the Greyjoys survived."

Her dragon sent her his affirmative through their link and banked to level the remaining the castle's keeps and towers. In the meantime, Alyssa used Scrying on the various Greyjoys and was pleased as the spell failed as she attempted to target one Greyjoy after the other.

"Looks like we got them all." Alyssa said with a grin and noticed that while she was working her magic, Ghost had finished leveling Pyke reducing the once mighty castle to scorched and flash frozen ruins. "Good job, Ghost."

Her dragon sent back a burst of pride in his handiwork.

"The Ironborn will never raise from this," Loras noted with a grin. Being from the Reach which had suffered raids by Ironborn reavers for centuries, it was only natural to take pleasure in their through destruction.

"Or this might galvanize them into defiance." Ser Wendel countered warily as he surveyed the devastation with narrowed eyes. "The Ironborn are a stubborn people."

"They are," Alyssa agreed. "But let's see them remain defiant now that their entire leadership has been killed, their precious islands occupied, and themselves displaced by a new wave of settlers."

The Ironborn had been a problem for Westeros for untold centuries and it was past time that someone finally dealt with it. Thus there would be no quarter given this time. The Ironborn lords, reavers all, would be wiped out. The Iron Islands would be occupied by Loyalist troops to protect the new migrants from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms who would be enticed to settle there through generous land grants for while the islands were largely barren, to landless peasants any land was better than no land. An influx which would dilute and hopefully outright destroy the abhorrent culture of the Ironborn. It was a cold hearted plan that had shocked all her advisors when Alyssa had first presented it, but which they had all eventually accepted without much complaint such was the hatred for the Ironborn.

"The Ironborn are about to die." Loras said with a satisfied grin.

And with their annihilation Bran and Rickon will be avenged! A strange part of Alyssa that was a mix of her own vindictive streak and her past life's love for his siblings crowed in victory.

"Indeed." Alyssa agreed as she looked out to the sea. "So let us bring in the Redwynes and finish this. Gate."

A large portal opened out in the open sea and moments later the Redwyne fleet waiting at anchor at Lannisport began to sail through it. Thus began the last days of the Ironborn.

Despite her desire to wipe out the Ironborn entirely, some of their lords had managed to escape death during her destruction of Pyke and so she found herself enjoying the hospitality of Lord Rodrik Harlaw at his seat of Ten Towers where he had been recuperating from a bout of illness and thus fortunately unable to attend the ill-fated Kingsmoot. This whilst the Reach troops that had been transported to the Iron Islands by the Redwyne fleet secured the islands, joined in growing numbers by vengeful Northmen fresh from scouring the Ironborn invaders from their homeland.

"Y-Your grace, you summoned me?" An average-looking man with brown hair and eyes and a short, neat grey beard greeted Alyssa as he stepped into the solar she had taken from him.

"Have a seat," Alyssa told the clearly terrified man. "We have much to discuss."

Warily, the man did as he was told and looked expectantly at Alyssa.

"I have made a decision as to your fate, Lord Harlaw."

Rodrik Harlaw nodded with the air of a man awaiting his execution.

"After consulting with my advisors I have decided to appoint you as the new Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands."

The new Lord Paramount breathed a sigh of relief.

"But," Alyssa said loudly enough to startle the man. "There are conditions. Firstly, the Ironborn nobility will be purged. Besides your House, all other Ironborn Houses will be dispossessed."

Lord Harlaw looked ready to protest but in a well timed move, that was wholly coincidental but which Alyssa doubted anyone would believe was such, Ghost chose to fly pass the tower that housed the solar at that very moment with a massive dead kraken in his claws. How he had even found one of the semi mythical creatures was something Alyssa was curious to learn for herself, but she could ask her familiar later. For now, she merely appreciated how the display cowed the last of the Ironborn lords.

"In their place," Alyssa continued. "I will raise new lords from among the men now occupying the Islands. Besides your House, never again will Ironborn rule the Iron Islands."

The bookish man shivered at the harshness of her decree but could only mutely nod.

Good he understands his place.

"Second, all salt wives and thralls are to be freed. And the practice of taking captives into servitude is to be outlawed and made punishable by death. All existing salt wives and thralls are to be paid one silver stag for every year of their servitude, with a minimum of one silver stag. Failure to make payment will result in seizure of land or property which will be sold to make up the cost, if that still proves insufficient than the Crown will provide a loan to cover the difference."

"T-That'll ruin our economy! Our people will become destitute!"

"And the former salt wives and thralls will come to be a major economic force." Alyssa added with a malicious grin. "Thus further breaking your people's control over these islands."

"Y-You want to destroy us utterly." Lord Harlaw said in a terrified whisper.

"I thought that was obvious." Alyssa told him honestly. "Your people have been a blight on Westeros for long enough. I will stand it no longer. I will destroy you. If not through this then by setting everyone of your settlements alight with dragonfire and displacing the lot of you elsewhere in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Why?" Lord Harlaw asked pitifully, his spirit broken.

"Because your destruction will win me the undying loyalty of half the Kingdoms." Alyssa told him bluntly. "The North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Reach, even Dorne at times. All of them have lived in fear of your people's reaving for as long as anyone remembers. My ancestors stopped that but they never broke you and time and time again you returned to your old ways. No more. The Ironborn way dies now."

"You're a monster."

"More than you already consider me such," Alyssa told him. "I care not for their opinions. I merely care for the results. Besides to you this act makes me a monster but to those whose lands your ilk have raided for centuries this makes me a hero. One who did what many desired but none before me has had the will to do."

"I met Eddard Stark once, you know?" Lord Harlaw said suddenly. "Briefly during the Greyjoy Rebellion. On opposite sides of course, but even then I think I had a measure of the man and I can say with confidence that the man who raised you would not approve."

"My Uncle was many things, Lord Harlaw, but a good player of the Game of Thrones he was not." Alyssa shot back, her blood boiling that this man dared bring her late Father into this. "He lost his head for that. I will not follow in his footsteps. More importantly, I refuse to subject any future generations with the scourge of Ironborn reavers. That I am sure he would approve of, even if he would decry my methods. That is enough for me."

There will never again be scenes like the heads of my brothers impaled on the walls of our very home by Ironborn ever again. Alyssa added to herself as she recalled some of the nightmares her past self had suffered after learning of the fate of his brothers.

"You are a hard woman, your grace." Lord Harlaw said, almost sadly.

"Such is the burden of the Crown." Alyssa said with a shrug. "Now onto my last condition. To ensure your obedience, I desire something from you."

Alyssa watched as Lord Harlaw's oldest child, a daughter of age with herself named Gwynesse, was led into her solar by her father and was at once unimpressed and struck dumb. Unimpressed because the Lady Harlaw was no beauty, but a rather plain looking woman with long white hair and pale skin. Struck dumb by the intense desire that welled up inside of her the moment she laid eyes on the other woman to protect her.

That's new. The Queen thought at the strange response her magic had to a compatible woman.

"Y-Your grace," the girl said with a passable curtsy despite her obvious anxiety. The poor thing was visibly trembling.

"Your grace, my daughter, Gwynesse." Lord Rodrik introduced unnecessarily.

"Have a seat Lady Gwynesse," Alyssa offered. "You as well, Lord Rodrik."

Lady Gwynesse shot her father a worried look but at his nod, complied.

"Do you know why you are here, Lady Gwynesse?"

"You wish to inform me that you will be taking me back with you to King's Landing as a hostage." Lady Gwynesse told her bravely even as she clutched her skirts so hard that her knuckles turned white. "Am I correct?"

"You told her?" Alyssa asked the woman's father.

"I would not let her come in here not knowing what to expect."

He is a good father.

"Fair," Alyssa told him with an approving nod. "And Lady Gwynesse that was indeed the plan."

"Was?" Lady Harlaw noted with a frown. "What changed?"

"Take my hand and tell me," Alyssa said offering her hand to the other woman.

Lady Gwynesse shot her father a confused look but he shook his head to indicate he was as clueless as she was. Her vigilant Queensguard, Loras and Ser Wendel, shot her knowing looks but as the loyal knights that they were kept their silence.

"Please," Alyssa said encouragingly to the other woman, who at this prompting finally hesitantly raised her hand to take the Queen's into her own.

The moment they touched bolts of magic shot between them and Lady Gwynesse began to cry as she pulled the hand to her face where she proceeded to begin to shower it in tender kisses. The sight of her tears pierced Alyssa's heart however and she shot to her feet. Careful to make sure she never pulled her hand away from the other woman, the Queen made her way around the desk until she pulled Lady Gwynesse into a comforting hug.

"Ssh, I'm here now." Alyssa told the woman who by now had all but thrown herself into her arms. "I'll protect you."

"Thank you!" Lady Gwynesse said to her through her tears. "Before you killed him at the Kingsmoot I was set to wed Denys Drumm and I hate him. He already had ten salt wives! And he still wanted me! I don't even like men! But I have no choice. You've saved me!"

"Gwynesse? You told me none of this!" Lord Harlaw said in shock.

"Of course I didn't!" Lady Gwynesse turned her head towards her father to shout, tears streaming down her face. "What could you have done!? Nothing! Better to suffer in silence than let you do something foolish and tarnish our reputation among our fellow Ironborn Houses. They already whisper disapprovingly enough of us because of your bookishness. I refuse to shame our House further."

Lord Harlaw looked like he had been slapped.

"Gwynesse? Can I call you that?" Alyssa asked the woman in her arms.

"Gwyn, call me Gwyn." The Ironborn woman said shyly, pressing her face into Alyssa's rounded middle to hide her face.

"Gwyn then. I need to ask you something important. Would you become my concubine?"

"For you? I'd gladly be your salt wife."

"No," Alyssa said pulling Gwyn away so the latter could look into her eyes and see how serious she was. "It might mean the same thing, but no concubine of mine will ever be a salt wife."

"I believe you. Take me. I am yours, your grace."

"Alys. Call me Alys."

One uncomfortable night of revelations of Gwyn's feelings and explanations about the tendency of Alyssa's magic to draw compatible women to her and vice versa later, the royal party, now obviously including the newest Royal Concubine, were having one last meal the next morning before they departed the Iron Islands.

"You should try this Alys," Gwyn, seated to the Queen's left as befit her new station, said pushing a bowl of unfamiliar stew towards her. "It's a delicacy among my people."

"Is it?" Alyssa replied as she pulled the bowl close.

"Yes." Gwyn nodded. "It's a traditional lamb meat stew."

Alyssa took a spoonful of the dish.

"It's wonderful."

"Thank you," Gwyn said with a blush. "I made it thinking of you."

"You made it?" Alyssa genuinely surprised that her newest concubine would go to such lengths.

"That she did," Harras, Gwyn's ten year old brother said with a laugh. "She went down to the kitchens early this morning just to do it."

"Heard she was so excited about the whole thing that she got there before the servants started preparing the morning meal." Hotho, her other eight year old brother chimed in as well.

"Harras! Hotho! Stop teasing your sister!" Lady Yara Harlaw, Gwyn's mother, chided her sons even as Gwyn herself hid her blushing face in Alys' shoulder.

"I must agree with your mother, Brothers Harlaw." Alyssa said offering the two rambunctious lordlings an arched look even as she patted Gwyn's hair soothingly. "Besides, I think it is sweet that your sister would wake up earlier just to prepare something special for me."

Though I might have appreciated it more if she'd chosen to join me in my bed last night. A particularly lewd portion of Alyssa's mind thought before she could suppress it. Gwyn had been in no condition after her emotional discussions of the night to even contemplate something like that and Alyssa would never force anyone into her bed. Even if the weeks away from her lovers had left her feeling needy.

"Uh, your grace?" A young boy said suddenly, looking incredibly nervous as he approached the High Table with a raven's scroll held to his chest like a protective charm.

"Yes?" Alyssa asked with a raised eyebrows as her Queensguard and the other guards tensed.

"I'm, um, one of Lord Varys' little birds. He, uh, wants me to hand you this."

"Loras?"

The Lord Commander of her Queensguard nodded and took the missive from the boy who promptly turned and fled.

"Don't manhandle him!" Alyssa shouted at the guards that moved to stop him, causing them to pause and giving him enough time to escape.

"Lord Rodrik," Alyssa said with a sigh as she took the scroll from Loras. "If you find that boy please give him my thanks."

"Of course, your grace." Lord Rodrik agreed.

"Why would the Master of Whisperers not send a normal raven?" Gwyn asked as she lifted her head from Alyssa's shoulder and looked at the scroll with a frown.

"He does but his private network of birds can be faster at times and is much more secure, so he claims." Alyssa explained. "As such when something is important he uses those. Now let me see what has the Spider so rattled."

Your grace,

This letter brings urgent news. The Volantene fleet intends to transport the Golden Company from Lys with the intent to invade and crown an impostor of your brother Aegon VI Targaryen as King of Westeros.

An impostor of my brother? What!? Alyssa thought, her mind thrown for a loop by the unexpected development.

I can confirm with confidence that this supposed Aegon known also as Young Griff is an impostor. Though he does not know it, as he has been fed a story that he is the true Aegon who survived the Sack of King's Landing by being swapped with a tanner's son who died in his place and subsequently smuggled across the Narrow Sea. He believes that following this he was first entrusted to my former friend and ally Illyrio Mopatis and later to the exiled Lord Jon Connington, a friend of your late father, Rhaegar, who had by then risen to a prominent position in the Golden Company.

That is ridiculous! Aegon can't be alive. Just to confirm the truth of whether this Young Griff was an impostor, Alyssa tried to use Scrying on him only for the spell to fail. As I suspected it would. I saw Aegon's ghost with Lord Nameless when I first ascended the Iron Throne after all.

I know this because this entire scheme, the Spider explained. Was a contingency created by Illyrio and I to replace the weak Baratheon dynasty with the blood of the dragons should the need arise. For this supposed Aegon was a Blackfyre from the maternal line. More importantly, at least, for why Illyrio is still proceeding with the plans of this contingency, is that the boy is the Magister's son born of his second marriage to a former Lysene pillow house worker and unknowing descendant of Daemon I Blackfyre.

Connington is unaware but having raised the boy from youth as a son, it is doubtful that the truth will sway his loyalties. Likewise for the Golden Company. They have been preparing for this move for almost two decades. Seventeen years in which they have longed to use the claim to the Iron Throne of their Young Griff, false or not, to return to their homeland at last.

I imagine war is the only option with have with these fanatics, my Queen, but what are your orders?

Your loyal servant,

Varys

"What is it Alys?" Gwyn asked, biting worriedly at her lip.

"The Golden Company is preparing to invade Westeros with the support of the Volantene navy whilst using an impostor of my deceased brother Aegon to legitimize the whole thing." Alyssa said with a tired sigh. "Someone bring me a fresh raven's scroll and a quill, I need to write a reply to the Lord Varys and the Small Council with my orders."

"And what might those be?" Lord Rodrik asked warily even as one of his servants ran off to carry out Alyssa's order.

"Twofold," Alyssa explained as she took one of Gwyn's hands and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Firstly, I will have Lord Varys disseminate the truth about the impostor to all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms so as to deprive him of support. The boy was one of his contingency plans for replacing the Usurper that he has lost control of, so he has all the information needed to undermine any claims the imposter might make. Second, raise a host and repel the Golden Company."

"Sounds simple enough," Lord Rodrik said sarcastically.

Alyssa shrugged. Simple or not, it needed to be done so it would be done.

Since the Golden Company invasion had not yet reached Westerosi shores, Alyssa decided not to change her plans and rush back to King's Landing to manage that crisis. As such, using the proven combination of Scrying, Gate and flying on Ghost's back to travel directly from Ten Towers to the skies above the Eyrie.

"That's so beautiful!" Gwyn said as they looked down on the majestic great castle of the Arryns. It was a cluster of seven slim towers of fine white stones bunched tightly together situated astride the peak known as the Giant's Lance, overlooking the Vale of Arryn several thousand feet below.

"I think Highgarden is more beautiful actually and Winterfell more grand." Alyssa opined. "And of course, the Red Keep more storied."

"I think Highgarden is best of all," Loras countered. "But I'm biased."

Ghost sent Alyssa an image of Winterfell for his won vote even as began a slow spiral down to the castle.

"Ser Wendel?"

"I think I'll stay out of this if you don't mind, your grace." The Manderly knight said with a chuckle.

"Of course," Alyssa said with a smile as Ghost began his final approach towards the mountaintop castle's central garden. It being the only open space in the cramped castle that was big enough for his bulk.

Throwing up clouds of mountain snow with his wingbeats as he landed, Ghost certainly made their appearance even more grandiose than it already was.

You and your dramatics. Alyssa sent to her dragon in fond exasperation only to receive a burst of unabashed amusement in reply.

Hopping down while Alyssa was chatting with Ghost, Loras strode proudly ahead. His silver armor, decorated with sapphires and twining black vines, shined in the glare of the high mountain sun especially the pure white pauldron that signified his place in her Queensguard. Add in his fluttering rainbow cloak and he looked every bit the gallant knight.

"Lord Arryn! Come out this instance!" He roared, startling the gawkers that had been drawn by their arrival. "Her grace, Alyssa Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen Regnant of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men and Lady of the Seven Kingdoms demands your presence!"

It took a moment but soon a small party hurried out of one of the towers. At its head was Lady Lysa Arryn, a thick bodied woman with a passing resemblance to Alyssa's own Stepmother and her son Robert Arryn, a small and painfully thin boy with spindly limbs and splotchy pale skin. Much to Alyssa's annoyance it also included the Mockingbird, Lord Petyr Baelish, sporting as always that untrustworthy smirk that he was infamous for.

Unwilling to waste time, Alyssa simply issued a blunt ultimatum.

"Surrender or suffer the fate of Pyke."

Much to Alyssa's exasperation, both Lady Arryn and her son both immediately looked to Lord Baelish.

"We, of course, offer the Vale's capitulation." Littlefinger offered with a gracious bow. "If you prefer, would your grace like to follow us to the High Hall to discuss specific terms?"

"Bring a table and chairs here instead," Alyssa countered. "I will not go out of sight of my dragon until we are finished, neither will you, Lady Lysa or Lord Arryn."

This clearly caught Baelish off guard but offering a dishonest smile he complied and a table and some chairs were hastily brought out to the garden. Of course, as they all sat down to begin to negotiate the terms of the surrender, he stayed. Ostensibly to 'advise' Lady Arryn, but he was fooling no one.

"Let me begin," Alyssa said when they were all seated even as she squeezed the Gwyn's hand under the table to calm her down as she fidgeted nervously in her seat. The Ironborn woman having never been in such a situation before. "I will be blunt. I have little to ask of the Vale beyond submission. As such, for that I offer a return to the status quo before the War of the Four Sovereigns."

"That is most welcome," Baelish said with a slimy smile and shot a knowing look in Gwyn's direction. This caused the woman to shift uneasily and clutch Alyssa's hand more tightly but she otherwise kept her cool. "But might I offer Mya Stone to you as a concubine in exchange for some terms? She is a baseborn child of Robert Baratheon, your grace, as such taking her as a member of your harem will further legitimize your rule."

"I will need to meet the girl first," Alyssa hedged. "But I am open to the idea. What would you want in exchange?"

"I would like to once more serve as Master of Coin, your grace. That this would offer the Vale some representation on the Small Council would only serve to further your legitimacy."

"I'll make the arrangements. Is there anything else that the Vale wants?" Alyssa asked, emphasizing the Kingdom's name on purpose since so far at least everything only seemed to serve Baelish's interests.

Said master manipulator sent a perfunctory look to Lady Lysa and Lord Arryn who both give a disinterested shake of their heads.

"If that is the case then I accept your surrender, Lord Arryn." Alyssa said looking not at Baelish but the young Lord Arryn. "And the Vale is once more a part of the Seven Kingdoms."

The boy just nodded and Alyssa frowned. Was that his only response.

Deciding to put the matter out of his mind for now, she turned to Baelish. "My party and I will be spending the night here at the Eyrie and depart in the morning, so produce this Mya Stone before then. Now show us to our rooms for the night."

The Mockingbird made a gesture and a servant hurriedly ran forward.

"Before I forget, I'll have my own servants attend to me tonight. Gate."

A portal promptly opened next to Ghost and Brienne of Tarth stepped through from Ten Towers leading the small cadre of servants that had served her throughout her campaign so far.

"Please lead the way," Alyssa told Baelish's servant.

As the now very intimidated man nodded and walked into the castle while Alyssa and her retinue followed, Alyssa couldn't help but smile at how she had managed to get something out of the Mockingbird. For though he did not know it, he was a man living in his last days. Varys had confirmed Baelish's involvement in her family's misfortune through his arranging for the Gold Cloaks' betrayal of her Uncle and how that led to his demise. As a result, she had already arranged with the Spider for the Mockingbird to have a fatal accident in the near future. As such getting anything out of him beforehand was just plain amusing.

Done!

And so Alyssa finishes living up to Tyrion's boast about her being the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror. And by being monstrously cruel to the Ironborn in the process. I think I outlined her reasons for those extreme actions well enough but just to recap, she's doing it because i) it will earn her favour from half the Kingdoms and ii) she is holding onto a burning hatred for what she thinks they did to Bran and Rickon during Jon's life.

As for Gwynesse's induction into the harem, all I can say is that Alyssa's magic wants to complete the set as it were. One lady for each kingdom and all that. Why am I pursuing something like this? Well, read my AN from last chapter since I explained it pretty well there in my opinion.

That's all for this chapter. So till next time tchau!