Thanks so much for all the reviews! I'm glad you continue to enjoy, and I'm slowly starting to respond to general reviews in PMs.
asterixdk98 has kindly reminded me that it's been some time since we had a timeline update so here goes.
It's now halfway through 296.
Elia is 40. Harry is 37. Viserys is 20. Teddy is 19. Rhaenys is almost 17. Aegon is 15. Daenerys is 12. Maia is almost 5 and Lewyn is 2 months.
By the time Aegon would be considered old enough to rule on his own for Westerosi terms, he'll be 17 instead of the 16 he's supposed to be.
Any plans for a feast to welcome their guests were put on pause at Lord Velaryon's grim insistence.
Elia had not seen Monford in well over a decade, but the younger man had held the same loyalty to the Targaryens as his ancestors before him. That his joy at seeing the possibility of the dragons restored to the throne was tempered left her uneasy.
Monford's words sent the room into an uproar, questions flying at him as the council demanded answers. It was only the loud bang and press of magic that silenced them, eyes darting to a decidedly unimpressed Harry.
"If you're quite done, perhaps we can discuss what is to be done," Harry drawled.
"There's a war coming to this island and we're unprepared for it," Jon Connington hissed.
"Panicking over it is not like to help much," Harry retorted dryly, "but by all means, go right ahead. It's not as if we weren't planning to go to war anytime soon."
She could see the man biting his tongue, well aware that he was outnumbered and outclassed, and Elia idly wondered if Harry would put him out of his misery before or after the battles were won.
"How did you come by this information?" Elia asked.
"All lords have someone installed at court, Your Grace," he reminded her, as if Elia had forgotten the dance of the nobility at King's Landing. "My man has made mention of Bloodstone becoming the topic of conversation for some time now; all Seven Kingdoms are aware of another claimant to be King of the Stepstones."
"King?" Harry said slowly.
"No other title is claimed in conjunction with these islands," Monford told him, an almost amused smile on his face.
"Why now?" Lord Tarly cut in, eyes dark and assessing and drawing the room's attention away from the suddenly stiff Harry.
"Because Dorne has gathered," Ser Richard said quietly, blue-grey eyes trailing to her.
"Is your king so fearful?" Oberyn asked, a mocking smile on his face.
Elia sent a sharp glance at her brother, seeing the stiff expression on Richard Lonmouth's face.
"The last time Dorne gathered, Prince Oberyn, the Stormlands bled for years," Richard countered. "A new war will see them suffer for Robert's anger."
"Yet you're here helping them bleed," Jon retorted. His blue eyes were focused on Ser Richard, a dark look in them.
He sees traitors everywhere, she knew.
"Aye. I've no love for the Lannisters, or what Robert has become under them. I've sworn my sword to House Targaryen."
"How many men can we expect?" Elia asked, cutting off the two men before they could start boasting of their loyalties.
"Thousands," Monford answered, a dark twist to his lips. "The North has begun to send more men to Moat Cailin in anticipation of their king's needs. Or to protect the Riverlands when word of dragons reaches the loyalists."
"Is Lord Hoster still facing troublesome bannermen?" Elia asked curiously. She knew enough of him to know the man would not stand for such and expected his daughters' marriages to have helped in that regard.
"The Riverlands remains the staging ground for many wars, Your Grace," Monford told her. "The Wars of the Marches did not leave it untouched, nor have the many differing bandits. All they need is hope before they rise in rebellion."
"The Stormlords will muster should Robert require it, but even they can be convinced to bend the knee," Ser Richard added. "This is no Blackfyre Rebellion to be repelled, try as they might to paint it as such."
Her mind raced at the implications, half-heartedly paying attention as they bandied ideas back and forth.
"Perhaps a break is in order," Elia cut in, eyes darting to Oswell with a wordless command. "We'll reconvene on the morrow, my lords, once we've all adjusted to the thought of an early war."
Harry's hand brushed against hers before he left, clapping Jon Connington on the shoulder as he invited the man to spar.
She saw the flash of disdain in Jon's eyes, hiding her sigh at the thought of what would surely come next.
"Keep the dragons under control," she said lowly to Rhaenys, seeing her daughter's purple eyes widen a touch in understanding.
Elia made her way to their floor, the clinking sound of Oswell's armour breaking through the murmurs of the portraits and the odd servant darting about.
Ser Oswell had been diligent since his return; he had kept watch over Aegon, instructing her son alongside his sworn brother while keeping vigilant over the many people seeking access to their king. That he had not made any attempts to turn Aegon into a copy of his sire had eased her worries; seeing the guarded disdain in his eyes when the Rebellion was mentioned had piqued her curiosity.
Time had worked against them, but with Oswell Whent's wary eye focused on Ser Richard, she had forced herself to see what lay at the heart of the matter.
Fortunately, Oswell was open to speaking without her needing to ask the right questions, waiting until she had seated herself in the solar before he did the same.
"Ser Richard is a Baratheon man," Oswell stated bluntly.
"He is from the Stormlands," Elia pointed out.
He shook his head, frowning sharply. Oswell's gaze flitted to the portrait behind her, eyes considering before he sighed.
"He was chosen to be Prince Rhaegar's squire as a favour to Lord Steffon," Oswell told her.
"Most squires for royal princes are chosen as a favour to some lord or another," Elia remarked. "Lord Steffon was Aerys' beloved cousin; I imagine it was no hardship for him to do so."
"And Robert Baratheon is Richard Lonmouth's cousin," Oswell retorted, a grim look in his eyes. "I imagine it requires some hardship for him to turn his cloak on his blood."
Elia's brow rose in surprise. She had not known of their connection, nor had she thought Oswell so aware of familial connections outside of the Riverlands.
"I squired for Brynden Tully," he told her, guessing at her thoughts. "They were all great friends during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Knights gossip just as much as maids, Princess, and a Baratheon being jilted for a commoner was wonderful gossip in my youth."
She hid her amusement at the image of the men whispering of their lineages and familial connections while resting between spars.
More than just gossip, she knew. Lady Jocelyn's broken betrothal had unknowingly paved the way for her great-nephew to claim the throne, even with her grandson a royal squire to help soothe tensions.
"Robert turning on Rhaegar was no hardship, despite their shared blood. Do you have any cause to believe Ser Richard might have come in bad faith?" Elia asked. "Lord Velaryon trusts him, Ser, and the Velaryons are the last to give you cause to doubt them."
Oswell frowned, eyes dark and troubled.
"If there is nothing else?"
He hesitated, a determined look on his face as he asked, "If I may offer counsel?"
She raised her brow at his audacity, gesturing for him to continue. The Kingsguard only offered counsel when asked, as they had reminded her.
"If the opportunity comes to negotiate a peace, Your Grace, I would urge you to take it."
"You wouldn't fight until the bitter end?"
"And see more of my countrymen die?" Oswell asked quietly. "Let the Usurper and his goodfather answer for their crimes. I've heard more than enough to know that if we let it, this war will be more devastating than the last."
That doesn't include the dragons, she thought.
"War is devastating regardless, Ser," Elia replied.
"Perhaps," Oswell answered. "Yet there are deep wounds to soothe, Your Grace. The Rebellion has left no land untouched, and not all were in the wrong."
"It always comes back to the Trident," she murmured.
"Had he won, we might still have seen rebellion," Oswell countered. "Had any number of people done their duty, we would not be having this conversation."
Oswell left her eventually, his words lingering in the air as she sat in troubled silence.
She had returned to their rooms late, softening at the sight that met her.
Maia slept soundly in her room, but Lewyn they kept close to them. Her youngest babe was not so particular on who held him, but a part of her wanted him near, knowing their lives would change once more and spending as much time as she could with him.
Lewyn's little fist was curled around the buttons of Harry's shirt, a soft mewl leaving him as Elia carefully lifted him from the warmth of his father's hold.
"Shh, sweetling," she murmured, quieting his protests as she moved to place him in the crib. Elia smoothed his dark curls, smiling at how quickly he returned to sleep before she made her way to join Harry.
Green eyes blinked open, crinkling in a smile as he tugged her into his arms. "Everything alright?" he asked, voice rumbling through his chest as she lay her head on him.
"The usual business," she answered, feeling his fingers curl against the knots at her back.
"A pissing match to see who's most loyal, then?" he huffed, fingers teasing open the ties holding her dress together. "Lonmouth wasn't lying."
"No?"
"Hmm. I might not be the best legilimens but I had enough chance to look. He wants something but he's loyal," Harry told her.
"Don't they all," she murmured.
"I'm not too worried," he said.
"Oh?" Elia questioned, brow raised as she tilted her neck, his eyes locked on hers. Green eyes softened with understanding, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her closer to him.
"Things were going too smoothly for me to be comfortable," Harry said.
"And you aren't nervous?" Elia did not have to hide here; in his arms she was not the Princess Regent, expected to remain cool and put together in spite of everything thrown their way. If anyone could understand her reservations it would be him.
"I was bred for war," Harry said softly. "It's the last thing I get nervous about."
He saw the look she shot him, tightening his hold as a hand cupped her cheek.
"You'll drive yourself mad if you think about what-ifs," Harry stated quietly. "We were doomed for war the moment we landed in Westeros. All they needed was confirmation that Aegon lived before they pushed through another battle."
War or war, she thought darkly, gazing absently at the wall. It was one thing to know of the possibility, quite another to reconcile what she was willing to do.
The feel of warm fingers on her skin, grazing a slow pattern along her spine was distracting enough that Elia shifted so that she faced him, their lower bodies pressed against each other. She smiled, feeling his heart thrumming beneath her hand, his green eyes darkening as her dress fell to her waist.
Nearly ten years and two additional children, and Harry still looked at her as if this were their first night together.
She kissed him, biting back a smile at the groan that escaped him.
"You're being terribly unfair, Princess," he murmured against her lips. "Here I am attempting to be a good husband, letting you unburden your worries, and you've gone and seduced me."
"Have you no restraint, my lord?" she teased quietly, hand slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. "I suppose we can discuss your plans to deal with a certain unruly lord. You've left him bruised and fuming."
"All's fair in the sparring ground, I've been told. How unfortunate for him."
She shifted to straddle his hips, feeling his thumb circle her hip as her dress was pushed lower. Between their duties and the birth of Lewyn, there had been so little time for just the two of them, and Harry sat up and eagerly helped her remove his shirt.
"The last thing I want to think on is an upset ginger with a superiority complex when I've got you to myself," he murmured, voice dark with promise.
A surprised laugh left her as he flipped them, a bruising kiss leaving her breathless and wanting.
Vaguely, she heard the lock click, warm lips claiming the moan she failed to stifle.
"Princess Elia," Lord Monford began, brows furrowed in confusion. "War is a—"
"A matter for men?" she asked sardonically.
He looked slightly flustered, glancing at her in surprise.
There had been confusion when Elia had requested Lord Tarly's report on his plans. The Reachlord had blinked in surprise, momentarily blindsided before he had agreed to meet with her. That had been two days ago, and Elia stood in the room they had commandeered for their war council with Harry, Oberyn, Lords Rowan, Tarly and Velaryon, waiting to hear his plans before he spoke with the others.
"As I've told Lord Tarly, my lord, I shall not interfere in his plans. Battles are best left to a commander; but if I am to send thousands to war for my son's crown, I would presume to know what is being done to mitigate disaster."
"Of course, Your Grace," Monford replied.
"Lord Tarly," Elia prompted, gesturing at the map of Westeros Harry had conjured. He had joked of carving another Painted Table, but a simple map would work well for their purposes until they had Dragonstone, the pieces moved to show their armies flooding the stormlands, a few roses left behind to protect the northern border of the reach.
"Lord Velaryon has mentioned men at the Neck," he began, hand hovering over Moat Cailin and the direwolf pieces. "It'll take Lord Stark and his men some time to march beyond their lands, and old Lord Walder is crabby on a good day and like to charge a toll."
"Even with the king's commands?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Walder Frey is a capricious old man," Lord Mathis interjected. "A foot in each camp would suit him well, and if he hears rumours of the dragon's return, he'll fear for his lands before anyone else's."
"The riverlands are too divided. Lord Frey can field some four thousand men, Your Grace, but there are other lords in the riverlands that can muster as much, if not more. It all depends on where they fall," Randyll continued.
"Should the riverlands rise in rebellion?" Elia asked.
"Lord Stark will be busy settling battles there," Randyll said. "Lord Arryn's men will have little trouble with the eastern riverlands unless the crownlords rise."
"They will," Monford said confidently. At her questioning look, he elaborated, a small grin on his face. "There is a group that call themselves the Dragon's Men. They've harassed Lord Arryn's men for years."
"Is there any reason to believe that they would not be able to hold Lord Stark back?" Harry asked, green eyes tracing the map.
"No. The Tully's hold on the riverlands is tenuous at best," Oberyn said. "I doubt years of catering to the Baratheon on the throne has done anything to improve it, and a dragon makes men more willing to bend the knee."
"What of Lord Tywin?" Elia asked.
Lord Randyll's blue eyes turned to ice, moving a lion down the Gold Road before he pointed at Storm's End.
"Stannis Baratheon is our greatest problem," Lord Randyll said, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. "If Stannis falls, the stormlands will bend the knee."
"Provided we leave a Baratheon to take control of the stormlands," Lord Monford added.
"Lord Stannis has just the one daughter," Elia pointed out. "Will the stormlords follow her?"
"They will. The next closest claim is Ser Richard's," Monford admitted. "Lord Stannis has an uncle, but he has no children of his own. There is a Lonmouth cousin close enough in age with Lady Shireen that she could marry and quiet any dissent from her bannermen."
Of course there was.
"That still doesn't answer the question of the Lannisters," Elia said, dark eyes focused on the lion pieces.
"Lord Tywin will rush to protect King's Landing the moment he hears of Targaryens," Lord Tarly said, shifting the pieces so that they rested left of the Blackwater Rush. "Robert will run to the stormlands and leave King's Landing vulnerable to a siege."
"There's no need for a siege," Harry said firmly.
"King's Landing won't fall easily," Lord Mathis warned. "The walls are strong and the Usurper not like to leave it unmanned."
"Not to an army of soldiers," Harry allowed. "But there are other ways into a city. I gather you'd not like comparisons to Lord Lannister and his sack."
It would almost be amusing how startled they were if the topic at hand hadn't been so serious, but the two lords shared a look before Randyll Tarly nodded sharply.
"If we control King's Landing without bloodshed, we'll have the advantage over the other kingdoms. As for Lord Tywin; we've two dragons, and a choice between another field of fire or the Reach's army."
She'd underestimated how deeply his hatred of Tywin Lannister ran.
"And worst case scenario?" Harry asked, brow raised as he stared intently at Randyll Tarly. "Battles can turn on a dime, even with dragons involved."
"Then you'll have to negotiate with Lord Stark. He's not like to settle easily considering his history, but if honourable Eddard Stark bends the knee, the Vale may follow."
Elia ignored the feel of Oberyn's gaze, the air turning awkward with things left unsaid.
Eddard Stark had lost much to the dragons' folly and would likely seethe at the notion of their return, honourable lord or not. Perhaps the dragons would show him to be more Torrhen than Brandon, or the truth of his sister would force him to his knees.
To answer any questions/comments:
asterixdk98: Dany's got a number of people with eyes on her and Viserys to keep them from losing control of the bond.
Flamingp0tat0: glad you like Viserys. A different path for him would, I think, turn Dany into a different kid as well.
red demon161: glad you liked the quartz! It was actually your comment on silting that set me on that path, lol, and Myr being close definitely helped make a choice. Hopefully this chapter answers your questions on why the Velaryons came early. Regarding Elia and Harry, considering their relationship and the busy schedules they now have, there will likely be small moments like the one above, but nothing beyond the T rating.
jdrussom66: true, true. I might keep it on the backburner for something else.
shadowquark: we probably won't get a glimpse of what's going on in the WW until the epilogue? i think.
RRW: I left the exact list of potions vague, but there might be a phial of veritaserum that will come into play. I've always thought potions were a bit of a risk when used against muggles.
badknight: not sure exactly when, but I've been toying with the idea of them popping up for some time. Just working out the kinks of the where/when/why that doesn't seem entirely out of left field.
The chapter was a little heavy, but they're discussing war and it's not something they can escape from. I've been deliberately quiet on what is going on in King's Landing, but either next chapter or the one after will be a POV from the capital going through almost all of 296.
