—At the Great Sept of Baelor—
At the Great Sept of Baelor, that magnificence in marble atop Visenya's Hill, Daveth, Sansa and their children attended the funeral services of Lord Commander Lucius Blackmyre of the Kingsguard; the Silent Sisters had removed the bowels and organs, drained the blood from his corpse and stuffed it with fragrant herbs and salts to preserve it and hide the smell of decomposition. Both parents remained calm and composed during the ceremony despite the saddening atmosphere, but their eldest two occasionally sniffled and cried quietly at such a loss. The little knot of several visiting mourners also attended to pay their respects to the hero who led the defense of King's Landing's civilians during the War for Westeros; some even started singing "Farewell, My Brother" – a sad ballad composed by Luceon of Tarth after the Dance of the Dragons still sung today.
Once the singing had subsided, the High Septa knelt beside the sovereigns in the center of the sept. "May the Father Above judge our dearly departed Ser Lucius of House Blackmyre justly, whose earthly body passed from this world after a prolonged struggle with a terrible illness," she intoned, beginning the prayer for the dead. Jaime Lannister stood with a stoic expression on his face, and Olyvar and Brienne had both lowered their heads to pay their respects as Rosyn continued her prayers.
After the septas and septons issued their sermons, the High Septa rose.
"If there are any among the faithful who would like to offer a few words, let him or her speak."
Daveth was the first to stand. "We are gathered to honor the life of Ser Lucius Blackmyre. He came to us from High Hill. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, a sworn brother of the sacred order, ever faithful. Born and raised in the Riverlands, Ser Lucius started his life as a farmer before ascending to knighthood," he began. "The people of King's Landing knew the Old Bull as a hero. The Kingsguard knew him as a brother-in-arms… and others a sage lending his counsel and experience to those who need it most. From the War of the Ninepenny Kings to the War for Westeros, Ser Lucius displayed loyal service and told hard truths – even if it's something we do not want to hear. Even in his advanced age, he put his life on the line through war-torn streets to protect the innocent and defend the weak." He glanced at Sansa, Lyonel, Cassana, Torrhen, and Rickard. "And more," he continued. "We all know the fruits of his labor. A lowborn farmer who defied the odds and rose to become a famed Kingsguard knight like Ser Duncan the Tall before him. Ser Lucius gave all he had and more. This nation owes him a debt that we can never repay." You've looked after me since I was a boy. Now… rest easy, old man. We will never forget you. He stepped back.
"Would anyone else like to speak?" the High Septa asked.
Sansa was next. "When I first came south from Winterfell with my father seven years ago, it was Ser Lucius himself who ensured a little Northern girl would feel welcome. He always had so many stories to share, even sad ones—from his misspent youth to his serving four Kings. Ser Lucius was like a grandfather to us all. Knights like him were hard to come by. But men like him? Even more so. On behalf of House Stark and the North, we thank you for your service, Ser Lucius. You will be sorely missed."
Jaime was next. He wasn't one for speeches and huffed a bit. "Huh. You know, it's almost funny to look back on it all," he mentioned. "I was never supposed to be on the Kingsguard. Oh, as a boy, I dreamed of the white cloak like all boys. I was only 15 when I first joined the order at Harrenhal. Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Lucius raised me up, put the white cloak on my shoulders and looked after me even when the Mad King effectively treated me as his glorified hostage. I wanted to rip off the white cloak, but the Old Bull reminded me in his own… colorful way… that a Kingsguard serves for life – so I upheld my oath. I hated his constant lectures; I called him 'an old man', a 'fossil', but now… I think I now understood what he was trying to tell me all these years. Why he wanted me to succeed him. We fought side-by-side in fights. Looking back on it all, I think Lucius had it right. I suppose it takes getting old to finally put the pieces together."
"Like his predecessor Ser Barristan the Bold, Ser Lucius valued honor and duty above all else. He was loyal to his friends and dangerous to his enemies. He took his responsibilities as a knight of the Kingsguard seriously, but let us also remember the legacy he left behind: a life of ensuring that the promise of a new tomorrow will always be possible," Brienne spoke next. "Those of us who remain are a support structure that keeps that dream alive. That is why we are here."
"The day I first met the Old Bull, all I could think about him at the time was how much of a scowl he always seemed to have on his face. I swear he looked like he was constantly judging us wherever we went, whatever we did," Olyvar said. "But after you got to know him, there wasn't any reason to be afraid of him. He let you know where you stood."
Hours had passed, mourners offered a few words of their own. Many thanked the Old Bull for his heroics during the battle, others prayed to the Seven Aspects for deliverance. Daveth and Sansa led their children three short steps, the Wolf Queen stopped to kneel beside her first two children. Lyonel's and Cassana's eyes were filled with tears. By now at 4 years old, both twins' facial features were becoming more distinguished: they have their father's eyes, sky blue, as large and crystal as Daveth's and hair as black as the darkest night – but the younger twin had inherited her mother's face, high cheekbones and had one strand of auburn in her thick shoulder-length hair which hung over her eye.
"Shhh, shhh. Now, now, my little ones. Don't cry. I'm here," Sansa comforted them, wiping their cheeks with a handkerchief. The Wolf Queen put her arms around Lyonel and Cassana and kissed their foreheads.
Daveth, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold as he held Torrhen in one hand and carried Rickard in the other. His two younger sons were not of age to understand what was going on yet, but there was no need for that now. Once they were old enough, more emotionally mature, the Young Stag would one day explain it to them properly. With the war over, they will need stability in their lives before taking the first step.
—At the Red Keep—
(5 days later…)
For the last five days, Daveth sat in his room writing at his desk – it was his way of keeping himself occupied. With the structures of Maegor's Holdfast recovered, old rooms have been re-opened and refurbished. On the bed in front of him, all four children were fast asleep with Sansa leaning on her side watching over them. Daveth didn't mind that he was spending more time with his family, keeping the promise he made to his wife earlier. Even so, handling four children at once whilst juggling the importance of governing the Seven Kingdoms made him more exhausted – as it did Sansa. Rickard would at night cry so loud the infant woke up both his parents and they would end up getting little sleep.
As Lyonel, Cassana, and Torrhen were now waking up from their nap, Sansa remained rocking Rickard in her arms, humming a lullaby to keep him from causing a fuss again even though she looked like she needed sleep herself. Her maternal instincts wouldn't permit her to leave her children's side even for a moment. No, the children needed both their mother and father with them.
"…As per the terms of the trade agreement signed between
the monarch of the Seven Kingdoms and Sealord of Braavos,
negotiated by the Masters of Coin and Commerce and the
Braavosi merchant lords," the letter read, "imported goods
will be subjected to closer inspection by dockworkers for
contraband if believed to have been tampered with. Any trade
goods found with suspected contraband will be no longer be
accepted within the city's marketplace until a more suitable
arrangement can be agreed upon."
Finished, Daveth seals the letter and puts it away. The Young Stag steadily rose from his desk to make his way over.
"Hi, papa," the twins yawned, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.
They're handling themselves well since the funeral, Daveth thought. "My children," he acknowledged. "Sansa, when was the last time you got some sleep?"
"I could ask you the same thing, husband," she countered wearily.
"Then the answer is one we both share. But then again we both knew the challenges of having a family of our own would entail."
"That we did."
"Would you hand me Rickard? You've been tending to our children all night," Daveth offered.
Sansa looked somewhat relieved. "Are you… sure?" she asked.
"I'm their father. It's the least I can do."
The Wolf Queen glanced down at little Rickard who remained fast asleep. Despite her nurturing instinct, Sansa was nonetheless happy that Daveth wanted to help her in taking care of their youngest child. Carefully extending her arms forward, Sansa slowly placed Rickard into the arms of her husband, who carefully slid his arm underneath the infant's head to support the neck with the crook of his elbow and moved his other arm to provide extra support. Rickard shifted in his sleep but surprisingly made no peep. Sansa watched Daveth cradling their youngest son and smiled warmly at the sight; the Young Stag looked visibly terrified as he didn't want to accidentally drop the toddler but was determined to take some of the parental burdens off his wife.
"Aww! You two look adorable," Sansa remarked.
Daveth's face flushed with embarrassment. "Hey! Don't ruin it," he hushed quietly. It wasn't like how it was when he was a child himself with Robert and Cersei around; the main difference was that Daveth preferred to be involved in raising his children and not be the kind of father to them like Robert was to him, Joffrey, Myrcella or even Tommen.
"Ha-ha. Calm down. I'm only teasing. But there is something different about you I've noticed these past few months though. How you've been spending more time with me and our little ones. I like seeing this new side of you."
"I meant what I said back then. My main priority is ruling the Seven Kingdoms to the best of my abilities… and to provide for you and our family. Despite everything that's happened or what will happen in the coming years, Lyonel, Cassana, Torrhen, and Rickard deserve to be children. We can give them that chance now."
"Yes, love, we can."
Later, after the children had their snacks of sweetened fruits and nuts and cheese had been served and cleared away, Daveth and Sansa observed Lyonel and Cassana playing with little Torrhen running around chasing after his elder siblings. The royal children of Houses Baratheon and Stark were having fun with each other – most likely a trait they inherited from Sansa: a devotion to family and how genuinely Lyonel, Cassana, Torrhen, and Rickon love each other, something Sansa herself inherited from her mother Catelyn and passed down onto her children. Daveth noticed the fruits of her labor to support a healthy family. They will most likely grow with the value of family, devotion, and loyalty to one another already in their hearts before they reach the age of majority, the Young Stag theorized as he watched. More wolves and stags, but they must not forget that they are lions too. They'll have their own set of fangs and claws soon. Once they're ready to face their trials and tribulations.
Lost in thought, Daveth hadn't expected to feel a hand placed on his – only to realize it was Sansa before she rested her head on his shoulder. He didn't protest at her touch; it felt relaxing. Soothing. When Sansa slid her fingers in between his to hold his hand, Daveth reciprocated by interlocking all fingers, signifying a deep connection they share.
"We've come a long way these past seven years, haven't we?" he asked.
Sansa nodded. "I know, sweetheart. Hard to imagine how time goes by in a rush. It would be easy to get lost in the moment of it all. Wouldn't it? A lot of ups and downs, but it's been a good ride," she replied.
"Huh. Our little pack of runts will be disappointed their father didn't have a story prepared."
"We'll make up a good story for them."
*KNOCK, KNOCK!*
Both Daveth and Sansa sighed with exasperation at the intimate moment being interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at their door. Lyonel and Cassana stopped playing and looked at the door, though Torrhen was still oblivious to it all. Still holding onto Rickard, Daveth separated from Sansa and stood up – with the Wolf Queen following suit and taking a moment to fix herself properly and elegantly for potential visitors.
"Enter," the Young Stag called out.
The hinges creaked as the door slowly was pushed open, revealing the unexpected visitor to be Ser Jaime himself. Since being recommended and appointed to his role as the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard by his predecessor Ser Lucius, Jaime had pertained the use of armor with a new Kingsguard sigil to distinguish himself from other members: swords entwined with stag antlers to make up the crown imprinted on the front of his breastplate.
"Your Grace," Jaime greeted.
"Uncle," replied Daveth.
"Lord Commander," Sansa acknowledged.
Jaime noticed his nephew holding Rickard. "The look suits you. Don't tell me you're getting soft on us now?" he teased.
Daveth rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Very funny, Lord Commander," he sighed. "To what do we owe this visit? I assume it's not considered a social call."
"It isn't, but the Lord Hand has been working on a rather… intricate project these past few weeks."
"What kind of project?" Sansa inquired, now curious.
"He wouldn't give any exact details but said it was only meant for your eyes and to escort you all to the throne room once it was completed. Tommen, Myrcella and the other lords on the Small Council are waiting for you there."
The throne room… Daveth reflected. His mind drifted to the final moment where he killed Daenerys Targaryen and bore witness to the Iron Throne's destruction, breaking the cycle established by Aegon the Conqueror for good. But if everyone's already gathering in the throne room, then it must have been something big. "You know I'm not one for surprises," he told his uncle.
"I know, but you know once your other uncle starts talking, he never stops," Jaime said.
"Tyrion; of course, he would start running his mouth off…"
"Even so, it would be rude to keep them all waiting," Sansa advised. "Perhaps we should see this 'project' ourselves. It could be something relatively minor, but still worth a look nonetheless."
Daveth sighed. "All right. Let's see what all the fuss is about."
"This way," Jaime motioned.
"Children," Sansa called out.
Lyonel, Cassana, and Torrhen followed their parents as Jaime led Daveth and Sansa through the main corridors. While Sansa held her twins by the hand with one hand, she used the other to hoist Torrhen on her hip; Daveth, meanwhile, rested Rickard onto his chest. On the way to the throne room, Jaime needled his nephew about laidback he's been lately—the Young Stag scoffed and rolled his eyes with each comment thrown at him.
Before turning down the serpentine steps, middle bailey through the outer yard and into the throne room, what laid before Daveth caught him by surprise. The huge bronze columns in the middle of the large, cavernous room was refurbished with stag antlers along the walls; the stained-glass windows depicting the Faith of the Seven's seven-pointed star were replaced to allow different colors – blue, white, gold, crimson – to shine in via sunlight exposure; vine motifs and candelabra that once decorated the throne room's columns and brought illumination during the reign of King Robert were brought back; along the left side of the room had tall windows depicted stags – the sigil of House Baratheon – were installed.
But that wasn't what caught Daveth's attention.
Placed in the middle of the room where the Iron Throne once stood was an entirely new high-backed throne with two others on the right and left. Not made of swords forged in fire of the conquered, but one modeled after the ancient Storm Kings of House Durrandon carved from oak with the armrests encrusted with gold marble with gilded, painted and inlaid with stags were added, giant antlers protruding from each side, and a crimson cushion sewn to provide comfort and support on the bottom and backboard. Unlike the Iron Throne, this throne was colorful and shined when rays of the sun bounced off it. There were two next to it looked almost identical, though were smaller in size.
What is this? Did we break the cycle imposed by the dragon kings of House Targaryen, only to acquire another one?
"Instead of a throne designed to intimidate, we felt it best to have one built meant to inspire," Tyrion explained. "Yours is in the center. The seat on the right is meant for the consort and the one on the left is reserved for the Hand. Go on, Your Grace. Try it."
Daveth stared at the thrones in front of him until he approached the center. He gazed at it before brushing his fingertips along the armchair. The throne was smooth to the touch as opposed to the Iron Throne, always having to shift slightly to avoid cutting himself and resting his palm along the pommel. When he sat down, it was more comforting and allowed him more breathing room.
"How was it?" asked Tommen.
"Is it any different from the old one?" inquired Myrcella.
Daveth hummed. "Huh. It's almost funny. Ironic even."
"What is?"
"17 Kings and of their 50 Hands either competed against or cooperated closely – each of them playing to their strengths in the game of thrones. Where one stands out in the light, the other operates from the shadows to fill the gaps; just like I'd done in the past. But Jon Arryn and grandfather's games were trifles."
"How so?" asked Bronn.
"Their better nature. Where one kept the Seven Kingdoms together by living the life of a good man, the other did the same but in the exact opposite way: with ruthlessness, fear, and intimidation," Power does not come from telling other people that you have it; it comes from showing them. Daveth explained. "To live as high as honor itself and carry out intelligent strategy with such perception. I learned all I needed to know from these two men and more. With checks and balances put into place, we can now begin our plans to move forward." I am more than this. I am more than what grandfather made me, no matter how deep he dug his claws into me.
"In any event, it is done. You've exceeded your predecessors. Neither of them could have imagined the power you now hold," Paxter suggested.
"And now I will know how to use that power wisely." Daveth paused. Given the experiences he endured throughout the past seven years, each obstacle proved a detrimental learning point for him. But even so, the self-reflections, the people he's met, the bonds he forged… To change the course of an entire nation, he had to change. With the War for Westeros over and no one left to stand in his way, Daveth began making preparations for the new age to come. "What I'm touting, my lords… is a revolution."
"Revolution?" they asked.
Daveth nodded. "Revolution," he repeated.
"Rebo…utin," the twins tried echoing this strange, big new word.
Yes, my children. Those who came before us, who built the Seven Kingdoms, cast too large a shadow. Too broad, too deep. But the past is the past. Let it lay buried there. Never again will we live in their shadow. The cycle is ended. From here on out—from Sunspear to Winterfell—we will hone our talents to mold this land and usher in a new age. "Shall we begin, my lords?" he asked.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Well guys, two more chapters will be included after this—with one of them being an epilogue so keep a close eye for it. Hard to believe that we've gotten this far of almost two years in the making. Thank you all for coming with me on this journey and sticking it out for as long as you have with over 2,168 reviews, 1,622 followers and 1,540 favorites and over 1,400,000+ views. For the visualization of the new throne, I tried looking as possible designs based on the St. George's Hall Throne of Russia, the Throne Chair of Denmark and the Coronation Chair of England. It was hard to pick which one.
Stay tuned for more updates!
Guest #1: Hi I loved this story, it was great and I know the ending is going to be good. If you ever do decide to make a new story would you consider making one about a oc Targaryen.
Hail King Cerion: Although I haven't been reviewing, I must congratulate you on this wonderful work. It had its problems but what story doesn't have them.
Salute, fellow author for this achievement.
C.E.W: Interesting chapter on this one. Now Daveth sit on a new throne in a new era, the last remnants of the chaotic wheel of the Targaryens have been sweep away. King Daveth the Great and Sansa the Wolf Queen are honored as the greatest monarchs the Seven Kingdoms ever had. Their reign marked a golden age for the Seven Kingdoms one that even outshine the reign of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator.
With the end close I have to ask, have you settled on a new story to work on at some point after this one?
—I haven't decided on a new story yet; I'll think about it.
God of war: This is nice story better then the series in the tv
Vgc: Great chapter on trials and tribulations of the oathkeeper, so can you please put up the next chapter to the story now please
RHatch89: Awesome update :)
TehStorm: Great chapter,hard to think this is ending,well i can only say thank you for writting for all this time.
Anyway,i hope you will be able to make a chapter far into the future to show how the modern man remembers daveth.
Bio RL: Thanks for the chapter