A/N: Check the Author's Note at the bottom of the chapter for pertinent info. I would love it if you guys could let me know feedback on that! Without a further ado, here we go.

The Great War (SYOC)

Chapter 17

Part 1: Casterly Rock

Lady Ayla was quiet as her fiery red hair blew behind her in the warm wind. As she saw rank upon rank of Lannister soldiers, she could see that the ironborn invasion that had taken place months before had been little more than a fly easily swatted away by the wealthy Lannister region. The Greyjoys hadn't dared move again since their attacks were thwarted and chased off of the continent.

Her blue dress swept behind her. She had heard days ago of the fate of her friend, and had spent her time mourning. But that time was done now – she had a duty to her region, to the friends that she had left. And that road began in Casterly Rock. If she couldn't get Lord Lannister to see reason…she wasn't sure what she could do in the future to help Naerys on her journey.

A handful of Tully soldiers marched behind her, but the lines of Lannisters made them feel woefully insignificant. No doubt if Leonidas intended to declare for Rhaegel, she would make a good prisoner. The fact they hadn't seized her yet gave her some sense of hope, at the very least.

"Lady Ayla Tully, here to see Lord Leonidas Lannister." She said clearly to the squire at the door. The boy scurried off to head indoors. She waited quietly and rubbed her hands together. She had been to the Rock before, but never under such circumstances. When Athen still looked like he would be the future Lord of Riverrun, Ayla was going to be married off to Leonidas – rebuffed by his father, who hoped for a match with one of the many Targaryen princesses.

She had been just a child, beaming and bright with her hair done up neatly and her blue dress flowing. She had met Leonidas at the gates, and her father had a short conversation with the Lord of the West. She remembered how she had been upset when they left so quickly. But now as she stood there, she wondered if she had dodged a bullet.

But guilt set in just as quickly, feeling as though if she had accepted the match, her brother would've had to refuse the Kingsguard appointment, and he could've lived. She would be Lady of Casterly Rock – not something she wanted to be, but her brother at the very least would be alive. Wasn't that enough?

"Lord Lannister is ready for you." The squire said through quick breaths, opening the doors to the mountain that was Casterly Rock. They walked together in silence, her eyes flitting around and looking at the golden galleries – the remembrance of famous past Lannisters. She couldn't name but a handful, and it was hard to know which was which since so many of them looked so similar.

Her feet echoed on the ground as they walked, her gaze moving from one side to another. Her breath was quick as well, her heart beating up a storm. She had been here originally to negotiate an alliance with Shaena once the war was concluded. Now, the war was concluded…but Shaena had not emerged the winner. Her focus was now elsewhere.

Lord Leonidas sat on his chair, studying her as they walked in. He had black hair, unlike all Lannisters before him. His pale cheeks were carved as if in stone, but the red armor was a testament to his homeland. He had a stern gaze as he looked down upon her. "The Lady of the Riverlands, it's an honor to host you in my keep." He gave her a short, stiff bow and waited for her reply.

"Lord Leonidas." She said in a clipped tone, putting her arms over her chest. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, not bothering to hide her tiredness. "I wish I could say the same of you, but unfortunately you haven't left Casterly Rock much. I have hosted two of my neighbors – Lords Stark and Arryn, but not you."

Ayla still thought him a coward for refusing to join Shaena when the time was right. If they had that extra number of troops, they could've marched directly on King's Landing. Even with his dragon, Rhaegel would've been forced to flee the capital, lest he set himself and his advisors ablaze. Lord Arryn himself had fought for Viserys earlier in the war and had turned to Shaena when the madman took the throne. Lannister hadn't fought for anyone – and she was beginning to think he fought for nothing.

"I heard your Queen died." He said in a bored tone. His eyes lazily met her own, which were teeming with anger and pride. "For that I extend my sympathies. I am glad I didn't waste my soldiers on such a useless venture. I am sure if you had been in my position, you would be thinking the same."

Ayla clenched her hands into fists at her side as she glowered at the man. She was a lady in her own right and had fought for her Queen. Just as he should have. But she was quiet and tried to grab onto her dress for a bit more strength. Shaena was dead, she had to remind herself. There is no point to fighting the wars of yesterday.

"I came here for something else." Ayla said clearly, her blue eyes conflicted as her heart wished to stand up more for her friend. I am sorry, Shaena. She thought to herself as she changed the topic. "One man in my charge was arrested by your soldiers and brought here. I want him returned to me."

"Oh?" Leonidas sat forward in his seat, intrigued. He had heard of no such thing. "And who would that be? We have a fair number of prisoners after the conflict in Lannisport, I hate to say."

Ayla tried to start more generic. "A boy, black of hair. Strong, tough." As she saw confusion in his eye, she knew that there was going to be no way around it besides just stating it as obvious. "A Godric Baratheon, former bastard of the Lord Baratheon."

"Ah," He said in a contrite tone, standing up at once and beginning to descend the throne. "And I presume you do not know that he was escorting Princess Naerys Targaryen past the Westerlands' border?"

"I do know that." Ayla said to gasps from his court. "She was also a charge of Riverrun." She put her head up higher as Leonidas stalked towards her.

"And you do know that she was promised to me by the Queen you were supposed to be serving? And you disobeyed her orders by sending Naerys south with the Baratheon boy and the other one?"

Ayla realized that they didn't have Corlys or Naerys, which means they made it south of the Westerlands. Where, she did not know. "I am Lady of Riverrun and as lady I am entitled to make my own decisions. Just as the princess can make her own. And if you would excuse me ad let your guards show me to the dungeons, I would be on my way with the man I intend to take."

Leonidas hesitated for a moment as he remembered what the black-haired man had said. But he gave a short nod and motioned for some of the guards to lead her away. Her own couple guards were remaining back, waiting upon her return. Ayla walked with them, unsure of what she would find at the end. Torchlight grew dimmer and dimmer as they descended through the Rock, where the dungeons were located at the heart of the mountain. She knew that she wouldn't keep her own prisoners in such a dark place, but this was Casterly Rock, not Riverrun. By the time they arrived at a foul-smelling area, it was nearly pitch-black, and she could hardly see her hands in front of her face.

"There's someone here to get you." A guard said and unlocked the cell, before beginning to walk away.

"Hey!" Ayla said sternly. "I can't find my way back in this darkness."

"You got here." They shrugged and chuckled as they continued to fade into the blackness. "Find your own way back."

"Ayla?" A croaky voice came from inside the cell, and she heard the sounds of bones cracking as the bigger man got to his feet. Even in the darkness, she could see his haggard look, like he had been down there for quite a while. Her heart ached, and she hurried to him.

Godric embraced her warmly, and she ignored the foul stench that emitted from him. She didn't care. She had found him and was going to get him out of this place. The Baratheon hugged her close to him, ignoring the pains that were aching all over him.

"We're going." Ayla promised him.

"Where is she?" Godric whispered softly. "I want to go there."

Ayla chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, beginning to lead him back away from the darkness to where she could finally see glimmers of light. "You're coming to Riverrun. It's safe there."

Part 2: Stormlands

The road was long and quiet. Corlys was helping Madeleine along, realizing that they had made a wrong turn a while back and headed east – and now were in the thick of the Kingswood, the southern portion that dipped near Storm's End. The King's forces couldn't watch them the whole time, but they couldn't be sure that it would be completely safe.

"Where are we?" Madeleine whispered in a hushed voice.

Corlys had only been to one forest like this in his life – and he was sure they were back in it. "The Kingswood." He said quietly. "We must've taken a wrong turn out of Bitterbridge and headed back the way we came in a northern direction."

Madeleine glanced up at him, not saying anything. She was trying to be kind and understanding, but the fear that was gripping her was unlike that she'd felt even when she had ran from Rhaegel the first time. Corlys glanced around, trying to locate the moon, but the forest was so dense that it was hard to do so. Her hand gripped his pale bicep tighter as they began to walk further.

"Corlys…" She whimpered when she heard noises from somewhere near them – twigs and sticks snapping. Corlys got alert, tugging her to his chest and reaching for Dark Sister, which was strapped at his waist. They heard sounds getting more distant.

"Whatever it was." He sighed a little bit and continued walking with her. "Didn't want to come near us."

Madeleine nodded, but privately thanked the gods for Corlys. Whatever it had been hadn't come near them because of him, not because of her. He had a sword and the will to use it, she had…not much. She nearly tripped and fell down into some sort of cave, having stubbed her toe on a rock, would it not have been for him. His arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her back up to him as he peered down the cavern.

"If it rains, it's best to be in there." Corlys reasoned.

She went first, stepping hesitantly onto the slippery stones that led the path downward. It was dark, the only light coming in from the glimpses of the moon through the luscious forest. "Stay there." Corlys ordered her once she had stepped down inside of it.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself as he disappeared again. Worry ate at her, both at the immediate circumstances, and what was happening in the rest of Westeros. Surely the continent was more than at war right now, and lots of people were dying. Now, she was in a cave, alone, in complete blackness. If there was any animal in there that wanted to eat her, she wouldn't be able to stop them.

She heard rustling around near the entrance of the cave. "Corlys?" She asked hesitantly, taking a step closer. "Are you there?" Her voice was filled with ice, worried sick that he had gotten carried off and something – someone was out there. She got no reply, and she began to back up into the darkness again.

The rustling sounds went away, replaced a minute later by boots crunching the ground. "Madeleine?" Corlys' familiar voice echoed down. "You there?"

"Yes!" She nearly half-sobbed and stepped towards what little light was coming through to reveal her face. Corlys had a bundle of wood in his arms, stepping down into the blackness in an attempt to light it. He set a log on the ground a few feet away so she could sit.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she waited. Corlys worked on getting the fire started for a while, cursing it to all the Seven, when finally, a spark of life illuminated the cave. Madeleine couldn't help but chuckle a little bit when she looked around and saw the cave was rather small, but at the very least it was dry.

By now, she was used to their nightly ritual. Sitting in silence for a few moments around the fire, before, like clockwork, Corlys would stand up and lay down by himself, shedding a few layers. Her eyes would look over his back and wonder what it would feel like to graze her hand along it. Would it feel different than Rhaegel? Better? And she would lay down by herself, thinking about home and Corlys and her brother and mistakes she had made.

But tonight, Corlys got up, and peeled off the outer layer of his clothes, leaving a sticky shirt that clung to his chest. He took a seat on the larger log that he had gotten her, their knees brushing each other's. "I'm sorry I took you in the wrong direction." He said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What can we do now?" Madeleine whispered, a bit of defeat creeping into her voice. They had been as far as the Reach, but now would have to make the same trek back if they hoped to get there in time.

"We can try and scrounge up enough money to get on a boat." He offered, not sure what they could do at this point. "Maybe it can get us as far as Oldtown or the Arbor. I could work for travel for the both of us." They both knew she would be little help as a ship hand, but Corlys would be more than good at it.

"Okay." She whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. The warmth immediately seeped into her, and she was pleasantly surprised when his arm wrapped around her as well. She shook a little as she looked up into his eyes and nibbled on her lip quietly. Could she do it?

Madeleine lifted her face up and kissed his lips softly. They were salty, fuller than Rhaegel's, but warmer and more filled with life. Corlys felt…right, not strange and foreign like Rhaegel had. She had practically melted into him by the time he began to kiss her back, her fingers dancing around the hem of his shirt.

"I…I'm sorry." Madeleine blushed a little when she pulled back. "I'm not your princess." She knew how he had felt about the Targaryen girl.

"You're my queen." Corlys teased lightly, tugging her closer and placing another kiss on her lips, the two getting closer. His hand was nimbly working on the fastenings of her dress, and her heart was beginning to beat faster. She heard rustling again from the beginning of the cave and they both whipped around.

A man stood there, in raggedy clothes and a shawl around his face. He looked gaunt and tired, and when he lifted his face up, she nearly did a double take. Purple eyes stared into her own, like those that Corlys possessed.

"Who are you?" Madeleine whispered as she held onto Corlys, a little embarrassed.

"I am Aerys Targaryen."

Part 3: Oldtown

Ronard was picking through the wreckage. Rhaegel had come to give them a message – and it had worked. The Reachmen that were in Oldtown were getting antsy, wanting to bend the knee after they saw sections of the city burned. His own fingers brushed into the black ash and retrieved some old necklace, gleaming beneath the soot and ash. He sighed, looking up and wondering if it would be long before the city was burnt.

Prince Dorin had left for Sunspear, and he had faintly wondered if Rhaegel had gone after them. But no, the dragon had turned back north and left them to deal with the fires that were raging through the city. "It is done." A man came up to him to say. "The High Septon shall see you now."

Ronard nearly laughed, but he knew it would've been in poor faith. The High Septon had left him waiting for days and only now wished to see him? Maybe dragon fire had changed his mind, after all. He only wondered if he had changed his mind a little too much. Ronard had known that dragons would be used at some time or another, and surely a man like the High Septon should know as well. His Faith Militant was prepared to battle them – and even on an open field.

Still, he walked through the streets, his eyes set on the skyline that went towards the Arbor. He didn't wish to see the charred bodies and bones that littered the streets. Days before, the Dornishmen that were in the city had offered to help clean up the bodies and dispose of them, but the remaining Reachmen had shunned that offer. So, it was taking them even longer to clean up the affected parts of the city.

The Starry Sept gleamed in its challenge – to Rhaegel, to the Seven, to everyone. He numbly wondered why the Sept had been spared – Rhaegel surely knew that he could've taken the sept down with flames, if he so desired. It would've been a message to the faith. On the other hand, it would've also antagonized them further, driving scores into their numbers.

As Ronard approached, the doors opened. Septons and scholars milled about quietly on the outer edges, but one man stood in the middle. He wasn't too old, with black hair that was beginning to gray. His hands were shoved into the pockets of white robes, and brown eyes looked up to him. "Ronard Cantrill." The High Septon said in a booming voice, turning to see him completely. "Advisor to Maester Aerys, and to Prince Dorin of House Nymeros Martell."

"That is correct," Ronard said. He knew titles for lords and ladies, but he wasn't sure what to call the High Septon. He had never really thought he would be in this situation, after weeks of being told he was too busy.

"You surely know the situation we are in." He stepped up the stairs one at a time, approaching him. "Rhaegel Targaryen has lit half the city ablaze."

Ronard stood opposite him, putting his arms over his chest and watching him. "If anyone knows how to take down a dragon, it's the Dornish. And we're lucky enough to have them on our side."

The High Septon's jaw tightened. "The Dornish are hedonists and pleasure-seekers."

Ronard couldn't deny him that, of course. "A much easier pill to swallow than to allow the Starry Sept to be burned."

The High Septon gave a quick nod, gazing around at the Starry Sept. "The Seven has lasted since before Westeros. The Hills of Andalos is where they were born. And now, the Starry Sept is it's home. Rumor says that Rhaegel Targaryen practices the heretic religion of the Lord of Light."

Ronard honestly couldn't tell him, unsure whether Rhaegel was that religious either way. But, if the High Septon wished to tell the people that, he wouldn't stop him. He listened to the High Septon all the same.

"What do you propose?" Ronard asked.

"Our Faith Militant has people all over King's Landing. Getting to Rhaegel will be a problem. But I can disrupt actions in the Capital – take the Sept of Baelor, if we can." The High Septon watched him closely. "We will align ourselves with you. But have no mistake – the Faith will survive this war no matter what happens."

Turncloaks, Ronard thought as he watched an older septon bumble towards them from where he had come through the doors. "Your Holiness." The septon gave a short little nod to him. "There are men outside – come, come."

Both the High Septon and Ronard hurried behind him. He was impressed that the High Septon could move so fast, with the crystal crown glittering atop his head. They stepped into the sunlight, and they could see ranks of soldiers moving through the city. The fox and flowers was emblazoned on their white shields, and they fanned out in neat lines on either side of the street.

Ronard watched as a girl walked behind them. Locks of curly white-blonde hair fell down her face in soft sheets, and she wore a coat of black. In that moment, Ronard thought that it may have been Shaena Targaryen, reborn. But as he looked closer, it was obvious it was her younger sister, the princess Naerys. Behind her were two people, a man and woman, with pointy ears and somber expressions. He saw Naerys' face when she gazed upon a body that was charred at the ground. Her mouth fell open with horror, but she kept walking towards them.

"High Septon," Naerys said quietly as she stood a few feet from them, her hands clasping together.

"Princess Naerys, it – it is a surprise." The High Septon glanced around at those near them, not sure what was going on. Ronard wasn't either.

"You are in the presence," The man stepped forward – a Florent, with the big ears. "Of Queen Naerys Targaryen, First of Her Name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. The Queen of Eternal Spring. The Queen in the South!"

Ronard's heart warmed as Dornishmen and Reachmen alike began to cheer, fists raised in the air. But as he made eye contact with the younger Targaryen Queen, he knew that this was not something she wanted. However, she would do it. He turned to one of the Hightowers. "Get me a boat, and a raven. House Redwyne has sat quiet for too long."

He turned and smiled at his new Queen. Naerys looked back at him, trying to place him, but she couldn't. She turned and walked towards the Sept, cheering crowds trying to follow, but the Florent men keeping them back. A war council in the Starry Sept? Not something that I would've thought was coming, Ronard thought as he followed after.

A/N: I thank you all for keeping with me all this time as we get closer and closer to putting a cap on the story.

I do have some news on the status of stories going forward. I have decided not to do a third Great Council story. :( I am disappointed as all of you – but I believe it is time that I work on another story that brings in all kinds of people, including all of you. I truly mean it – I want all of you to continue with me, because I treasure the characters and story that you have lended to me. However, that story will not start until after Great War is concluded. I have an idea, so if you guys want to get in early, I would more than like to allow you to do that. Especially my four loyal reviewers, Outcast001, ShadowofZama, AZW330 and nazlanmak. You four have the first choice.

Thank you! I hope to accelerate this story in the next couple of weeks, so look for more frequent updates. I will also post some 'Q+A' style things at the end, so if you have any questions about characters, my thinking as I went through the story, or anything like that, PM me or drop it in a review. Thank you!