Chapter Twenty-Seven: Riverlands
A/N: I'm going to be honest: I'm not a huge fan of this chapter. I just don't like how it turned out, but I've spent months on it and it just won't flow the way I want. I had hoped to have a better update for my first of 2020, but I hope this is at least moderately acceptable. Thank you as always to those who take the time to read and review.
Storm's End had become a busy place as Aegon Targaryen's forces prepared to ride for the Riverlands. Tamara had been busy tending to her newborn son, and yet she was pleased that Aegon had kept his word and was preparing to take back the home of her family. She approached the dragon King with her babe in her arms and Dianella's small hand clutching at her own.
"I will be sorry to see you go, your Grace."
Aegon was saddling his horse as Tamara approached, but he turned to greet her. Clad in the red and black armour that marked him as House Targaryen, he looked every inch a King. That was what perturbed Tamara the most. Those who appeared most suited for power and authority rarely held it long, in her experience. Nonetheless, she kept her most charming smile on her lips.
"You are currently occupied." Aegon's eyes darted between her toddler daughter and infant son, and Tamara was reminded again that he was unmarried and childless. What was to happen if he fell in battle? "You should return to the Eyrie and gather your own forces. We may be in need of reinforcement and besides – you did wish to free the North from the Boltons."
"Of course," Tamara agreed, releasing Dianella's hand as the toddler became occupied with examining the King's horse. Aegon had his battles to fight, and Tamara had hers. The North was vital for their success, and she couldn't expect Aegon and his army to fight all her battles on her account.
Aegon's eyes flicked to something over Tamara's shoulder. She turned to see Gendry loitering in the courtyard, uncertain. Over the past few weeks, she had enlisted him to make and repair weapons for the soldiers. However, she had also involved him in the more political side of things – a decision that she knew did not please Aegon. One day, Gendry would be Lord of Storm's End, considering Stannis's defeat. Certainly, the commoner lord should know how to manage his own people.
"I don't trust the Baratheon boy."
"You don't trust me." Tamara's smile was wry. "I wouldn't say Gendry is harmless, but I hardly think he wants you crown, your Grace."
"Perhaps." Aegon did not appear convinced, yet he did not argue the point. "I must depart, Lady Tamara. I wish you well in your return to the Vale, and I trust that I will hear from you shortly."
"As shall I from you." Her smile faltered only for a moment. "With good news, I hope."
Aegon took Tamara's free hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Perhaps, in another world where she hadn't married and fallen in love with Jaime, they would be more than just allies. But in this world, that was all they could ever be – and she hoped Aegon remembered it. Releasing her hand, Aegon climbed up into his saddle and rode out with his army.
Tamara watched them depart with a heavy feeling in her heart. She had never much liked goodbyes, especially when she'd just been beginning to actually like Aegon. Footsteps made her glance over her shoulder at Gendry's approach.
"Do you think he can do it?" He sounded incredulous. "Do you really think he can take back the Riverlands?"
"I do." Tamara mustered all of her hope and faith into the words. She had been saying her prayers nightly – a novelty for her. She must have conviction where others did not. People like Gendry looked at her in askance. She needed to show them confidence, for even the shadow of a doubt could be their undoing.
"The Riverlands?" Jaime paced their room, his sardonic tone and the frown on his face indicating his disdain for the plan. "That's your strategy? You're sending Aegon Targaryen to rescue your family and free the Riverlands?"
Tamara's expression hardened at her husband's lack of support. She knew she had some explaining to do – whilst Jaime was aware she'd formed an alliance with Aegon, he had been a prisoner and therefore unaware of the details. As Tamara nursed Tybalt, she had gone over the agreement that was in place with Aegon. Rather than seeming pleased she had formed an alliance and managed to keep both their heads, Jaime seemed despairing of the price she'd named.
"Yes, Jaime. The Riverlands."
He raked his good hand through his golden hair. "You know that Cersei will want me to aid her."
Cersei. There had once been a time where Tamara had thought they could coexist, that Jaime could be Cersei's loyal twin brother and also a good husband. Now she knew that wasn't the case. Cersei was the enemy, and Jaime's mind straying back to what his sister might think or want was dangerous, in Tamara's opinion.
"Then go to Cersei, if that's what you want." Tamara pushed herself to her feet, losing patience with his dividedness. "You have to choose, Jaime. We are on opposite sides of a war. If you choose Cersei, you turn your back on me and our children. If you choose me, you know you can't help her too. That's not how it works."
Tamara settled Tybalt into his cot, stroking her younger child's auburn hair. He and Dianella were what mattered the most to her. If Jaime could not stand by his family, that was his decision, but she would play no part in his choice. She would not be the emotional wife, pleading for her husband to stay when he would not. What happened next was completely up to Jaime.
"I am returning to the Vale." Tamara stood, her hands balled by her sides and her chin raised defiantly. "I will not beg for you to join me. You must make your own decision, but know the consequences if you choose to side against me."
Jaime's brow furrowed. "You know I could never do that."
"Do I?" Tamara threw up her arms. "Then will you stand with me?"
Her exasperation was met with results when Jaime knelt in front of her. The move surprised her, and Tamara knew she must look confused when her husband looked up at her, his expression earnest.
"Tamara Arryn, Lady of the Vale, I pledge myself to you, for now until the end of my days. If necessary I will forsake my claim to Casterly Rock, and any other entanglements that might prevent me from fulfilling my duty as your devoted husband."
It was oddly sincere for Jaime. For a moment, the pair examined one another in silence, before Tamara realised that Jaime had meant the vow whole-heartedly. Once she had come to this conclusion, a smirk played about the corners of Jaime's lips and he cocked an eyebrow expectantly.
"Was that good enough?"
Tamara couldn't help but laugh, the rigidness leaving her body. She took Jaime's hand and tugged him to his feet. As her husband wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, Tamara wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch. However, there was much to accomplish, and the first thing on her mind was dealing with Petyr Baelish – whose treachery had gone on for far too long.
Brynden Tully did not know who the silver-haired lordling was, or where his army had come from, but he did not like any of it. Judging by the patient expression on the young man's face as he waited for Brynden to make his assessment, he was not there to attack them. Nonetheless, Brynden would be damned if he'd open a gate to a boy and an army he didn't know.
"Can I help you, ser?"
"I am not a ser." The boy dismounted his horse. He strode up toward the gate without fear, even when the archers nocked their arrows. He smiled and held up his hands. "My name is Aegon Targaryen, and I am the true King of Westeros."
Now he recalled. He had heard of the boy. Aegon Targaryen had taken Storm's End and declared himself the true monarch, but he was far from the first to do so. Brynden was not impressed by courtly manners, shining armour or a fine army. This green boy would likely be slaughtered by those more cunning than him.
He scoffed. "So say you and many others."
"Your great-niece sent me. Tamara Arryn of the Vale."
That certainly was a surprise. Brynden had been too concerned with his efforts in the Riverlands to pay much mind to his eldest niece, but it was clear that she had been thinking of him. He had believed that she had her own concerns. Perhaps this alliance allowed her to deal with several matters at once.
"Why would she do that?"
"She wishes us to aid you in reclaiming the Riverlands." Aegon folded his arms over his chest, his expression becoming insufferably smug. "She has sworn allegiance to me, acknowledging me as her King."
"I see." Brynden wondered what could possibly have convinced Tamara to swear to Aegon. Was it the boy's natural charm and handsome looks? No, his great niece was smarter than that, and was not the sort to be won over by appearances alone. Perhaps there was more to Aegon than met the eye, even if Brynden wasn't entirely certain whether he believed that the boy was a real Targaryen.
"Will you allow us in?" Aegon asked, tilting his head to the side and raising a hand over his eyes so he didn't have to squint against the sunlight. "We can discuss terms, if you like."
The army did not appear to be there to attack, however considering the events of the Red Wedding, Brynden could not instantly trust Aegon's word alone. Many men had made false promises in the past, and they had lost their impact. Proof was the only thing he believed in these days. It might be good to see what Aegon could offer, but Brynden was not opening his gates to this boy.
"I think not. Instead, my men and I will come to you."
At least if Brynden was killed in the camp, his men could make certain that Riverrun was held. It had been a task winning it back, and he wasn't losing his childhood home to this alleged dragon boy. Aegon's lips curved into a pleased smile, and he dismounted his horse.
"By all means."
As Brynden descended the staircase and headed down toward the drawbridge, several of his men attempted to stop him with questions. Is he really Aegon Targaryen? Why is he here? Should we ally with him? He ignored them all, brushing them off as one might swat a fly. He had no answers, not yet in any case.
As the drawbridge creaked into movement, Brynden squared his shoulders and summoned his best men to accompany him. It should be a quick and easy negotiation. If the boy tried to make things difficult, Brynden would simply seal himself back inside Riverrun. From what he knew, Tamara was the dragon boy's only ally. He needed all the help he could get – and he was offering the Riverlands on a platter, the price of swearing fealty. Brynden hadn't yet decided if the cost was too high.
Aegon was tall, only slightly smaller than Brynden. He had the sort of looks that would break the hearts of girls across Westeros. Brynden did personally have to wonder at the nature of Aegon and Tamara's relationship, and wondered if it was strictly political. Tamara was a married woman, but Brynden held no love for Kingslayer.
"Brynden Tully, isn't it?" Aegon held out his hand, and Brynden wasn't sure whether the boy meant for him to shake it or kiss it. "Tamara referred to you as the Blackfish."
Brynden ignored the hand. "Some call me that, yes. You're Aegon, is that so? Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell?"
"The very same." A proud smile crossed the boy's lips. "I was smuggled out of King's Landing as a babe, and survived across the Narrow Sea under the guidance of my father's friend Jon Connington, who now serves as my Hand."
The man beside Aegon with thinning red hair inclined his head stiffly. He looked old beyond his years, closer to Brynden's age than Rhaegar's. He was vaguely familiar, although Brynden could not place where he might have met Connington before Robert's Rebellion.
"What is that you want, Aegon Targaryen?" Brynden asked. He had little patience for matters of politics, and was certainly not one to exchange pleasantries while dancing around the point.
"To help you, and in return, gain the Iron throne as is my birthright." He was as direct as Brynden was being, at the very least. He appreciated the forthright approach, for he would have become irritated otherwise.
"So you want me to swear allegiance?"
"It would be helpful, yes." Aegon shrugged his broad shoulders as if nonchalant. "However, I understand your doubts. If you would rather wait until I help you liberate your lands, then by all means."
"Help us retake the Riverlands and the North, and I'll swear your bloody oath."
Aegon appeared startled, as though he had not expected the price to be so high. He looked to Connington – a sign to Brynden that he was still a boy who needed the approval of someone older and more experienced than him before he made his final decision. Yet Robb Stark had once been a mere boy, and he had learned quickly.
"Very well. We have ourselves an agreement."
Tamara had been adamant that Gendry accompany them on their return to the Eyrie. She sensed a great deal of potential in the young man. He was built like his father, however he possessed traits that Robert lacked – he seemed to have a functional head on his shoulders, for a start.
Gendry had quickly taken to forging and repairing weapons. It was harder in a moving camp than in a set smithy, however he managed the task with determination. Many of the knights had complimented his craftsmanship. When Tamara stood in the entrance of his tent, watching him work on repairing a fractured handle, she had to admit that he was skilled.
"What do you intend to do, now that you are the last surviving Baratheon?"
Gendry looked up from his work, momentarily confused. Tamara wouldn't say he was pleased to see her exactly, but he didn't appear as cautious as he might have around her husband.
"I don't want any castles and lordships, m'lady. Just to continue my craft."
Tamara's smile was patient. "At which you excel."
"Why did you ask me to come with you?"
"I believe you can help us. I know you don't want to play the games of the high lords. I didn't either at first. But you are a survivor, and those that understand who you really are will try and kill you. You're a contender for the throne, after all."
Gendry shook his head vehemently. "I don't want that."
Tamara believed the best monarchs were those who didn't want such power. It was why she would never make a good Queen of Westeros, if the option ever existed for her. Tamara had gotten a taste of power and whilst she was not addicted, it was not something she would give up. Now that she was Lady of the Vale, she would pass that mantle onto her child, not a power-hungry man who believed that he could do a better job simply because he had balls. She quite liked her position, but knew someone like Gendry would hate it.
Tamara knew that she had very little choice in who ended up on the throne. Aegon would make a good King of Westeros. Yet she always feared failure, and if he failed, she rather hoped someone like Gendry could take his place. He considered himself a commoner, but with the right education, Tamara thought he could truly be somebody.