Chapter 24: The Lords of Westeros
295AC
(Oldstones; The Riverlands)
When the last King of the Rivers and the Hills, Tristifer Mudd V died during the Andal Invasion, his keep fell into ruin. As time went on its name was forgotten and the smallfolk gave it a new one; Oldstones.
Built upon a hill overlooking the Blue Fork, Oldstones had a good view over the landscape. It was hard to reach the castle undetected, which made it the perfect place for a secret meeting.
Lord Jon Arryn had left the Eyrie with Yohn Royce with no word to anybody else. The two elderly lords' traveled alone from the Vale to the Riverlands to meet with Lord Howland Reed of the Neck.
They took a ship from Gulltown to Saltpans to avoid the valemen that would no doubt recognize them.
Jon had wanted to go alone to Oldstones but realized that would be foolish. He was an old man and what he was doing could count as treason. He needed someone with him, someone that would understand and could lead the Vale if Jon for some reason didn't make it. He could not trust his wife with such an important mission.
Lysa had been strangely indifferent to her sister's death. They first received the news while still in King's Landing. His wife had read the scroll, ripped it up and threw it out the window. The gust from Blackwater Bay carried the fragments away. She didn't show sorrow, or anger, just coldness.
Jon knew Lysa was a bitter woman, the fact that her sister had a happy marriage with a man her own age while she herself was married to a man older than her father has made her so. The knowledge that her sister had five children and no miscarriages did not make their relationship better. Despite all that Jon had thought that she would grieve, even if just a little bit. Instead she never spoke of her sister again, he had briefly mentioned Catelyn's name to her once and her only response was; "A trout amongst wolves is like a falcon amongst snakes, pitiful and helpless." Knowing her remark was just as much about his failure to please Dorne as it was about Catelyn, he let her be. Lysa had been unstable for quite some time and that was not going to change.
While crossing the Blue Fork the two men could see the ruins of the once great castle; overgrown weeds framed the crumbling walls covered with moss and lichen. Within the castle yard laid King Tristifer IV Mudd in his cracked and weathered tomb, he who had beheaded King Roland II Arryn.
The horses climb was treacherous but without injury they came before the broken gatehouse. Leaving the animals behind, they made their way deeper into the ruins, through a labyrinth of fallen stones and beyond the Mudd-king's sepulcher.
The Godswood had been neglected for centuries and was almost impassable. After a minute they arrived at the Heart Tree that was as overgrown as the rest of the castle. They could barely see the face beneath all the moss.
Beneath the tree a small man was sitting on a rock. He stared up at the tree with sad eyes. His brown hair was kept short against the head and his beard was wild and unkept. His clothes were made from boiled leather and his cloak was a murky green color. When he heard their steps he turned his olive-colored eyes toward them.
"Lord Reed." Jon greeted.
The crannogman nodded them turned to the weeping face.
"The Andals destroyed much but the Heart Tree still stands. I thought it would be appropriate to meet before the Gods." He looked at them again. "Sit."
They obeyed and sat down under the watchful eyes of the weirwood-tree. The two valemen followed the Seven, as the Andals they were, and only felt quite uneasy before the weeping face.
"Lord Reed, thank you for meeting us. I know it must have been an inconvenience."
"No need for formalities, time is of the essence." Howland said dismissively. "I'm not doing this for you but for Lyanna's daughter."
Lord Royce sucked in a breath and Jon closed his eyes.
"So it's true. Ned did lie to Robert."
"He did, but for good reason." Howland said sternly. "You know Robert better than anyone; look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't have slayed her in her crib if he'd known who she were."
Jon sighed before opening his eyes and he shook his head.
"You know I can't."
"Aye, and neither could Ned." Reed continued. "After Rhaegar fell on the Trident we found Lyanna in Dorne, dying from childbirth. She begged Ned to protect her babe whom she loved more than anything in the world and he did, until the end."
"But what about the kidnapping, and the rape?" Yohn Royce asked.
"None of it was true. They were in love and foolishly ran away together to get married. I blame Rhaegar, Lyanna was just a girl but he was a man grown and should have known better. They made a horrible mistake and the realm suffered for it."
"Robert was not the one who began the suffering, though, it was Aerys."
"Aerys would not have been much longer on the throne either way, but you are right. The war began when Rickard and Brandon were killed but so many could have been spared if Robert just had accepted that Lyanna didn't love him."
"Still, is it not possible that Robert truly thought that Rhaegar kidnapped her?" Jon asked.
"Maybe, but that is not the issue. Robert approved of the butchering of children. Innocent children who had done nothing wrong were slaughtered like animals and presented before the Iron Throne."
Jon squirmed. He remembered it well; the mutilated bodies of the Dornish princess and her babes, and Robert's lack of remorse.
"I know, but…"
"No, there is no 'buts'." Howland interjected. "I came here because I have heard you are an honorable man, are you?"
"I would like to believe I am."
"Then don't stand on the same side as a madman."
"Robert isn't mad!"
"Then what do you call a man who has lost half his kingdom? The North will rise up against him sooner or later and I already know on which side I will fight."
"You are talking about treason!" Yohn Royce proclaimed.
"The North has followed the Starks for thousands of years; we followed Torrhen Stark when he knelt before Aegon, we followed Ned when he knelt before Robert and we will follow Helena when she rises up to avenge her family."
"What if she doesn't?" Royce said. "You don't know where she is, you don't even know if she still lives!"
"She has the heart of a Stark and the drive of a Targaryen. She lives and she will return."
"How do you know?" Jon said. "She is just a child."
"Because although she is a Targaryen she is also a Stark, and Winter is coming." He glared at them. "My Lords, you only have to answer one question; are you with us or against us?"
xXx
(The High Road; The Vale)
Two hooded figures traveled east on the High Road, atop two muscular stallions they rode through the Mountains of the Moon in silence.
After leaving Oldstones they had rode to the Inn at the Crossroads and then turned east towards their homeland. This was dangerous lands with the mountain-clans hiding amongst the cliffs.
Both of them had swords at their sides but they were not young men, if a gang of wildlings would attack them the chances of them escaping undamaged were slim.
They were about halfway through the mountain-range when they meet a group of knights coming from the opposite direction. They are maybe ten-to-fifteen with various coats of arms. It was safe to assume that they were a patrol from the Bloody Gate.
"Halt!" One of them yells. "Who's there? Identify yourselves!"
The older of the two men rides forward and lowered his hood.
"Lord Arryn? What are you doing here?" The leader asked, visibly confused.
"I had business to take care of in the west." Jon answered. "Now, we are just on our way home. Could you spare a few men to escort us to the Bloody Gate?"
"Oh! Yes, yes of course." He turned his head to his comrades. "Ser Rodner, Ser Entan escort them back to the Gate."
The two knights nodded and gestured for the lords to follow them.
"Thank you, ser." Jon said as he and Lord Royce rode onwards.
xXx
(The Bloody Gate, Main Gate; The Vale)
Many thousands of years ago the Bloody Gate was constructed during the reign of Osric V Arryn, King of the Mountain and Vale. Many have tried to conquer the Gate, none have succeeded.
However, even the mighty gate located in the Mountains of the Moon meant nothing when Visenya Targaryen simply flew over it and made the Queen Regent, Sharra Arryn, submit to the Aegon the Conqueror.
So after three-hundred years the Bloody Gate was still unbreached and always attended by the Knight of the Gate.
The current Knight, Ser Brynden Tully stood over the gateway at the Bloody Gate looking over the High road.
He had been assumed the position ever since his niece, Lysa, was wed to Lord Arryn fifteen years ago.
During his years he had served diligently and guarded the gate, securing the road and making sure that it was thoroughly inspected every day. He had never regretted accepting the task when Jon Arryn appointed him, until now.
The news of Catelyn's and her children's deaths had come as a shock. He did not understand anything. The king's friendship with lord Stark had been well-known throughout the kingdoms and the fact that Robert had executed him was unbelievable.
His brother Hoster had gotten the news before Brynden and sent a letter to him, a letter filled with agony and wrath, and for once he had the same desire to go to war as his brother. However the letter from Lady Mormont had calmed down his older brother a bit, Brynden did not know what had been written, just that Hoster had decided not to call his banners.
He wanted to leave his post and go to Riverrun and demand an explanation, however when he asked Lord Arryn for permission he was denied. So he was stuck here, guarding the damn Gate day in and day out.
Suddenly he saw four riders approaching, two of them were knights.
"Halt!" He yelled. "Who would pass the Bloody Gate?"
"Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie and Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone, escorted by ser Rodner of house Shett and ser Entan of house Woodhull!"
Brynden was surprised by that. There was no record of lord Arryn leaving the Vale through the gate, he could have taken the sea route of course but then why take the road on the way back?
"Open the gate!" He called for the gate-keeper.
The gate opened and the lord of the Vale entered his domain. What on earth made the Warden of the East leave his home with only a single man as an escort?
A knight came from one of the towers and walked up to the Blackfish.
"Ser Brynden, Lord Arryn wants to see you."
"What? Why?"
"He didn't say."
xXx
Jon was seated by a table, sipping on some warm tea. In his old age he had tried to turn down on strong drinks, such as ale and wine. At feasts it was unavoidable but to warm himself up after days of riding in windy weather a cup of tea would do. Yohn Royce who was seated beside him had a jug of ale. On the opposite side of the table sat the Blackfish.
Ser Brynden had a grim look on his face and Jon did not blame him. He had lost a niece, two great-nieces and three great-nephews and had not been allowed to go home when his family needed him. Any man would be bitter.
On their way to the Gate, Jon and Yohn had discussed whether to involve the Tullys or not. Howland had told them that Maege Mormont had sent a letter to Lord Tully, telling him not to go to war yet.
The North did not have a plan exactly; nothing could be done as long as Helena Snow was missing, which was why several northern ships had set sail for the Free Cities hoping to find her.
This had been told to Lord Tully but not to Ser Brynden. Howland had asked them to tell him on their way to the Eyrie. Yohn had questioned if it really were wise to tell so many people but Howland had insisted, saying that the Starks were family of the Tullys and as Jon agreed the lord of Runestone was shut down.
So as they sat there; Lord Royce with a disapproving frown, Lord Arryn sipping on his tea and the Blackfish grimly studying them, a heavy silence settled over them until Brynden broke it.
"So you mean to say we have to wait to avenge my niece and her children until they find the bastard that haunted Cat's life since the rebellion?"
It was obvious that the knight disliked the idea of everything relying on the girl that Lady Catelyn hated.
"With Lord Benjen on the Wall, Helena is the only one with Stark blood that can do anything in the coming war." Jon said, leaving out everything that had anything to do with the Targaryens. "You don't need to like her just acknowledge that we need her."
"Even if they find her, it's not like we can seat her on the Iron Throne she has no right to it so how does that solve anything?"
"Everything will be revealed in time, for now you have to trust me."
"And why can you not tell me now?"
"Because now is not the right moment. There is so much more at stake than revenge I cannot bring it to light yet, no matter how much I think you deserve it."
"With all due respect, my lord, but that makes no sense. Is it not better for me to know now so I know what's coming?"
"No, it is not."
Brynden scowled and glared at the lord. In normal circumstances Jon would have scolded him for his disrespect but he decided not to because he understood his frustration.
"Fine." The Tully said at last. "I don't like this but I do trust you, my lord, but I will not wait forever. When the girl is finally found I want answers."
"You are not the only one, ser." Lord Royce said before sweeping his ale.
xXx
(Highgarden, Inner Ring; The Reach)
Garth the Gardener, the King of the Reach during the Age of Heroes, built his home on top of a hill over-looking the Mander. The white castle became known as Highgarden, the seat of house Gardener.
During the Andal Invasion King Mern II Gardener built the Outer Ring to protect his keep from the foreign invaders.
However Mern's descendant Garth IX Gardener welcomed the Andals and built a sept in Highgarden and took Andals into his household. One of them was a man from house Tyrell, founded by a simple knight the house rose to be the High Stewards of house Gardener, the position was passed down from father to son until Aegon's Conquest.
The famous Filed of Fire took the life of Mern IX and all his sons. Harlen Tyrell, the High Steward at the time yielded to the Targaryens and became the new Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South.
For three-hundred years the Tyrells ruled the Reach, the current Lord, Mace Tyrell, sat with his mother and children the garden in the Inner Ring of the ancient castle.
Mace was balding, fat and an oaf. Lady Olenna often wondered how she could have gotten such a buffoon for a son. His ambitions were high, that was true, however he was often reckless and Olenna feared for their house the day she was gone.
Her grandson, Willas, had a good head on his shoulders but who knew how long it would take for the Fat Flower to die and let the new generation take over.
Slightly annoyed she took a piece of cheese and sipped on her wine.
Her sweet Margaery was working on her embroidery, her oldest brother, Willas had a book in his hands as usual and Loras looked bored at the minstrel. She could not blame him. The musician was singing a hymn, something she had heard a million times and disliked from the bottom of her heart.
Olenna was not a religious woman, she could admit the Seven had their uses but they could be awfully boring.
"Oh, stop that racket!" She said to the startled bard. "Can you please refrain from giving me a headache and sing something new, boy?"
The 'boy' who was a full man grown, bowed from where he was sitting.
"Of course, m'lady."
He played one sad note on his lute as he begun a slow and sad tune.
A secret so
Hidden well
A dragon of ice
Dark of hair
Lilac eyes
Her beauty uncompared
Margaery looked up from her work and Willas closed his book, it was not a song they had heard before.
A dragonseed
Sown in Dorne
In the Tower of Joy
Made by love
Born in grief
Hidden in the North
Dragonwolf oh dragonwolf
Where are you now
A bloodline of ancient kings
Now gone from the world
A bloodline of ancient kings
Now gone from the world
After he played the last note the two brothers clapped and their sister wiped away a tear.
"That… certainly was something I haven't heard before." Mace said. "Who is it about?"
"Mace, you fool!" Olenna scolded. "It is quite obvious, is it not?"
"Mother…"
"Father." Willas said as Loras tossed a coin to the minstrel. "I'm sure you have heard about the Massacre of the Starks?"
"Of course! There isn't anyone who hasn't."
"And I'm sure you have heard about Lord Stark's bastard that got away?"
"Yes, but what does that had to do with…oh!"
"'Oh', indeed." Olenna snorted and took another piece of cheese. "You can go now, minstrel."
She shooed away the man and looked at her son's sheepish face. He really looked like the oaf he was.
"Such a tragic song." Margaery said. "Is it really true though?"
"It is a little hard to believe." Loras agreed.
"Maybe so." Their brother said thoughtfully. "But it makes sense; a bastard was so unlike Eddard Stark, he was so honorable, yet he brought home a little girl the same time he brought his sister's body to Winterfell."
"Robert's foolishness is proof enough." Olenna said. "Our dear king has lost the North, the Riverlands and the trust of the Vale when he beheaded the Starks. Not even Robert would do something like that for no reason. We should take this seriously."
"But it doesn't have anything to do with us," Mace argued. "Let them fight it out, we should stay out of it."
"Mace, you simpleton! There will be a war and both the Northerners and the stags will want our army. We can't stay out of it."
"Robert has the Crownlands, the Stormlands and the Westerlands while the bastard will have the North and the Riverlands." Willas summarized. "The Vale is more unclear, I doubt Lord Arryn wants to fight Robert but he still would want to avenge the Starks. If Dorne fights at all it will be for the North but it is very possible they'll stay neutral if we consider the shrewdness of Prince Doran."
"So if it comes to war, who will we fight for?" Margaery asked.
"The Starks are all dead so the bastard doesn't really have much to bargain with, while Robert has three children and one unmarried brother."
"But if she really is a Targaryen doesn't she have an aunt and an uncle? And they are both unmarried too. If they win Viserys would become king."
"We don't even know is the bastard is still alive." Olenna said and sipped on her wine. "Viserys will not have the loyalty of any of the kingdoms without her and even if she is alive there is no guarantee that they will ever meet. The realm is in disarray, we can only wait and see."
"Perhaps we should send a few men to search for news about them?" Loras proposed. "It can't hurt to keep an eye on them."
"And where exactly should we send them?" Willas retorted. "Essos is a big place, you know."
"There would be no point looking for the bastard as no one has any idea where she is, but the Targaryen siblings were last seen in Pentos weren't they? If we sent someone to spy on them at least we will know if they ever meet, or if they even know she exists."
"That is actually not a bad idea. Even if we wait to decide which side to support it is good to be informed about their movements, no one will pay attention to a westerosi sellsword."
"Sellswords can't be trusted." Mace said.
"It won't be a real sellsword, father, just a knight loyal to house Tyrell." Willas explained as Olenna rolled her eyes at her son stupidity.
"Even if we did send someone, who would that be?" Margaery asked. "Knights are not famous for their stealth."
"True." Willas said. "What do you think, grandmother?"
Olenna pondered on what they had said. Her grandsons' plan was not bad but difficult to put into practice, if the Targaryens decided to move it would be hard to follow them without being discovered.
The bastard had not been gone for a full year and the chance of her meeting her relatives were slim and even if she did it was hard to imagine that they would believe her.
"We need someone who doesn't stand out whatsoever, yet with a certain amount of intelligence so they know how to keep a secret and send messages without being discovered." She said. "It can't be a first son; it would stand out too much. A second son of a lesser house, maybe? Does not Lord Conklyn have a son that squired for Arys Oakheart?"
"Yes, Ser Simon." Loras answered. "Though I question if he truly deserved his knighthood."
"Why? Is he cruel?" His sister asked.
"No, just weak. Four years ago I saw him at a tourney and it was painful to watch. Newly appointed squires defeated him with ease and he held the lance all wrong so he dropped it after every clash during the joust." He shook his head. "I have no idea why a great knight like Ser Arys why take someone like him as a squire."
"You don't seem to like him very much." His father concluded.
"He's not a bad person, just an incompetent fighter."
"Doesn't matter, so much better." Olenna smiled. "A weak second son trying to prove himself beyond the Narrow Sea is a good cover but is he as weak in the head as he with a lance?"
"Well, he isn't a genius like Willas but he's smarter than me at least." Loras smirked.
"Good, too much wit stands out." Margaery said. "We should for send for him."
"Now, wait a minute!" Mace exclaimed. "I'm Lord of Highgarden, I should decide who we will send!"
"And who do you propose, father?"
"Ah…well… maybe…"
"Oh, stop being such an imbecile, Mace." Olenna bellowed. "Your children are right and many times smarter than you, stop pretending otherwise.
"Mother!"
"Hush, already!" She turned to her oldest grandchild. "Send for Ser Simon, Willas. We much make haste before the opportunity slips from our grasp."
"Yes, grandmother."
xXx
(The Wall, Castle Black; The North)
Benjen was in mourning. Many months had passed since his brother had been executed. His Black Brothers had offered their condolences but he cared nothing for them.
He had never regretted his choice before. Sure, it had been hard when he first joined as a young man and he went from being a nobleman to a simple brother of the Nights Watch, surrounded by rapers, murderers and thieves. But he always knew he did the right thing, now he wanted nothing more than to leave and find his missing niece, Helena needed him and he was stuck at the godforsaken Wall.
He swept his ale and threw the jug at the wall, it cracked by the force of the impact.
He was angry, at himself, at the Lord Commander but mostly at Robert Baratheon. He had heard the rumors that Helena was actually Lya's daughter with Rhaegar, he didn't know if it was true or not but it was no excuse for the king's actions.
Whether she was Lyanna's or Eddard's she was still his cute and forlorn niece, his only living relative. She was lost and scared and he could do nothing.
When he heard that she had gotten away he had hoped that she would seek him out but she didn't and in the end that turned out to be a good thing, as a couple of the king's knights had come looking for her.
He had gotten some pleasure by throwing them out after cursing them down to all the Seven hells. None of his brothers had said anything however Lord Commander Mormont had raised an eyebrow at him, something that Benjen ignored completely.
He knew he was acting like a child throwing a tantrum but the anger and despair was too much for him to act mature.
It was now close to a year after his family was massacred and Benjen felt like he could not go back to how he was. He was slipping because of the grief.
"Hey, Stark!" A voice called out. Bowen Marsh, the First Steward of Castle Black, had just entered the Great Hall. "Maester Aemon asking for you!"
"Why?"
"Don't know, don't care. Now get your ass up and don't let him wait."
The old maester was highly regarded, not only because of his unbelievably old age but also because of his wisdom and straightforwardness.
Despite his depression Benjen made his way to the maester's quarters. After knocking he entered the study.
Maester Aemon sat on a chair with his white unseeing eyes resting on the wall. When Benjen entered he turned his head towards him.
"Ah, Benjen." He said. "There you are."
"Maester." The Stark greeted. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. I'm sure you've heard it before but I'm sorry about your family."
Benjen turned away and gritted his teeth. Not again!
"Thank you."
"You know, some years ago I was like you."
"What?" Confused he looked at the old man.
"I have lived a long time, Benjen, maybe too long. I survived all my siblings and all their children too."
"I'm sorry, maester."
"When you are as old as me you lose the strength to help those you love, even more so if you belong to the Night's Watch." He continued. "I had to sit here helplessly as my grandnephew grew mad, as the realm rose up in rebellion and my great-grandnephew had his chest crushed by the Usurper."
"Maester Aemon…" Benjen was not sure what to say. It was obvious which family he was talking about and that Aemon was much older than he thought.
"For so long I thought my only family was two children exiled to Essos, until I heard about your niece. For a long time I was unsure if I should breach the subject but I need to know." He said hopefully. "Is it true? Is your niece really Rhaegar's daughter?"
Benjen's thoughts darkened when he was reminded of Helena's kind smile.
"I'm sorry, maester, but I don't know either." He answered. "My brother never told me who Helena's mother was or where she was born but…"
"Yes?"
"Well, as you know my brother was honorable to a fault. Him siring a bastard seemed so unlikely, but when he first brought her to Winterfell everyone was too struck with grief because of my sister to care for a little bastard babe." He said hesitantly. "However, when I think back there are too many coincidences for it not to be true. Lyanna's reluctance to marry Robert, the kidnapping, Helena's age, her purple eyes, her musical talent…"
"So, you think it's true?"
"I cannot say for sure but… it seems likely."
Slowly tears began to form in the maester's eyes.
"Oh, so many years and she was so close! If only I had known!"
"No one knew, maester. Only my brother."
"It seems house Targaryen owes house Stark a great debt." The maester wiped his eyes with his thin, wrinkly hand.
"I don't believe that was ever on Ned's mind." Benjen said slightly uncomfortable. "He loved that girl as much as his trueborn children."
"Your brother was a good man."
"I know." Benjen hesitated again.
"What is it?" Aemon asked. Benjen was again struck with how much the ancient man actually noticed despite being blind.
"Maester, when does it stop hurting?" He asked with tears in his grey eyes. "I'm always so angry and the grief is consuming me! Tell me, maester. When does it stop?"
"I'm not sure it ever does, my friend." Aemon said with a sigh. "I still mourn my parents to this day, and my Egg."
"How can you stand it, maester? I think I'm going mad. I don't think anything is important anymore!"
"Then don't think at all. Do your duty, honor your vows and keep on living."
"I don't know if I can."
"You must, if not for your own sake then for the ones who are already gone. Do you think your brother would have wished for you to die?"
"No." Benjen saw the truth in Aemon's words yet it was so hard to move on.
"Also, your niece is still out there isn't she? You can't leave but she knows where you are, if she needs you she will come here and you will be waiting for her."
Benjen's tears were now streaming down his cheeks, he had thought he couldn't cry anymore yet now it was impossible to stop.
The maester sat there in silence which he was grateful for, like most men he did not want to be seen, or heard, crying.
He cried for his brother, his good-sister, his nieces and nephews and for never realizing the burden Ned had carried all by himself.
After a few minutes the maester spoke to him again.
"Benjen, I wonder if you could grant a wish from an old man?"
The Stark wiped away his tears.
"What is it?"
"Could you tell me about her?"
Despite his sorrow, Benjen dared to smile a little.
"Gladly."
xXx
(Ironman's Bay; The Black Wind; The Iron Islands)
The islands off the coast of the Westerlands were ruled by the Grey King during the Age of Heroes, after his death his sixteen sons divided the isles between themselves and were called Rock and Salt kings.
The Rock kings ruled the land and the Salt kings ruled the sea, and so it was until Urras Ironfoot was elected as the High King of the Iron Islands. His son Erich succeeded him though he stepped down when a prophet threatened his life for not being chosen by a kingsmoot.
For hundreds of years after lord and captain voted for the next rulers, until Torgon Greyiron rose up against Urrathon IV Goodbrother. Torgon's descendants then became kings until the Andals arrived.
Rognar II Greyiron was defeated and his house extinct. The Andal family Hoare became the new ruler of the islands and remained so until Aegon Targaryen burned them alive in the Burning of Harrenhal.
The ironborn were then allowed to select a new lord of the Iron Islands, they chose Lord Vickon Greyjoy of Pyke and three-hundred years later his house still held their position.
Lord Balon Greyjoy tried to return the Iron Islands to the Old Way and rebelled again the Iron Throne, the result being the deaths of his two eldest sons and his youngest being shipped off to the North.
His only remaining child, Yara, was raised as his heir and at twenty years old was the captain of her own ship.
The headstrong, Yara Greyjoy was truly a worthy heiress to the Salt Throne. Yet now that wild but calculating female was furious.
When she had heard of the Massacre of the Starks she headed straight home to Pyke and demanded to know what happened to her little brother, Theon.
Her father's only comment was; 'That Greenlander of a son is probably as dead as the house that corrupted him and good riddance, now there is nothing stopping me from becoming king!'
Her anger knew no bounds. The Fat King had taken away her only remaining brother. Beheaded and burned to death far away from his home, unable to enter the Drowned God's watery halls, and her father celebrated.
But not only Robert was to blame; the bastard that got away was also at fault.
Theon died because of her, Yara had heard the song. A hidden dragon awoke the Baratheon fury and her brother paid the price.
Yara looked at the sleeping girl beside her, a lovely thing with red hair and an explosion of freckles over her nose. The girl was a whore, normally working in a brothel on one of the islands and now comforting the ironwoman. Yara had poured all her frustration into the sex and felt a little better.
Sex was the only thing that could take her mind off her Theon. Now when it was all and done, she was just as angry again.
She got up from her bunk and put her clothes on; she did not care for the girl any more. She had to fend for herself, though she would probably have a hard time considering the type of men the Black Wind's crew consisted of.
After putting her boots on she left the cabin and walked up onto the deck. The ship was anchored just off the shore of Pyke. Most of the crewmen had stayed on the island to entertain themselves in the whorehouses, but some were still onboard, drinking and making sure no one raided the ship while the men was away.
When their captain came out the three men looked at her with slightly hazy eyes. They were clearly drunk.
"Behold!" Droopeye Dale yelled. "The conqueror has risen! We could hear the bitch's screams from here!"
"Shut up, you ass." Yara retorted, not in the mood for jokes. "I'm going to the castle."
She walked to the small dinghy attached to the ropeladder hanging from the railing toward the water.
"Hey, Captain!" Another man yelled. "Can we have a go with her?"
"Do as you like!" Yara who was halfway down the ladder yelled back. "Just don't forget to pay her!"
"Yes! Let's go, boys!"
As she was rowing away from the ship Yara heard the whore's surprised yelp that soon changed into moans of pleasure. Though she highly doubted they were sincere.
Uninterested she focused on the island of Pyke. The towers that were connected by rope-bridges were rising high above the town of Lordsport and somewhere within those walls, was her father.
If she could, Yara would lead an armada towards King's Landing and offer the Stag King to the Drowned God. However, none of the captains wanted to waste their time avenging a Greenlander when they instead could be out raiding.
Cowards! And they dared to call themselves men!
She docked her dinghy at the port and walked up towards Pyke. Her chances to make her father change his mind were minimal but she had to try, or she would have to search for help elsewhere.
xXx
(BearIsland, Mormont Keep; The North)
For thousands of years the North and the Iron Islands fought over Bear Island.
The ironborn killed off house Woodfoot who were the first to rule the island and for a long time it was the northernmost part of the ancient kingdom of the Sunset Sea.
The northerners drove off the ironmen but later they came back and retook the island.
The battles ended when King Rodrik won the island and granted it to house Mormont, though raids continued to happen regularly.
Its inhabitants of Bear Island suffered during the many, many years of strife. The raids made life hard and forced the women to learn to fight beside the men so they could defend their home when the men were out fishing.
The result became a culture of fierce warriors, and none was fiercer than Maege Mormont; Lady of Bear Island and Wardeness of the North.
Maege was not meant to rule Bear Island but it became so after her nephew Jorah disgraced himself by practicing slavery. Foolish boy, though some blame had to be put on his wife; the extravagant Lynesse Hightower. Because of her, Jorah brought house Mormont into financial ruin and later she left him for a wealthy lyseni merchant.
So, no, Maege was never expected to become the ruler of Bear Island, even less the whole North yet here she was; claiming a position that wasn't hers.
According to Howland Reed, the true Wardeness was somewhere in Essos, though he didn't know where.
Maege had sent her daughter Lyra to Braavos to search for her, it was a huge city and one westerosi could easily disappear there, a good place to start. If she could not be found there, Lyra would scour the rest of the Free Cities until she was.
That was six months ago and still no good she knew where her nephew was maybe she could have asked him for help as well, she was that desperate.
Helena Snow was the only direwolf left, aside from the forever childless Benjen of the Nights Watch, and they needed to find her. Where ever she was.
She still did not understand Robert's actions but there was no real need to, he beheaded Eddard Stark and that was all the reason the North needed to become his enemy. The North remembers, it always remembers.
xXx
(The Water Gardens; Dorne)
A little over two-hundred years ago, Maron Martell built the Water Gardens as a gift for his wife; Princess Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Aegon IV Targaryen and sister of Daeron II Targaryen.
Hundreds of children have been hosted at the gardens, both high- and lowborn. The pools and fountain were perfect playgrounds for them and bonds were created that lasted lifetimes.
Also Prince Doran's own son Trystane played in the Water Gardens together with his bastard cousins, as his father had played with Oberyn and Elia as children.
It was truly a wonderful place, made for smiles and laughter. However neither Doran or Oberyn was laughing at this moment.
The song of the Dragonwolf of Winterfell had reached Dorne some weeks ago and the realization that Rhaegar had not only disgraced their sister but also sired a child on his mistress made Oberyn angry and Doran troubled.
The girl was gone but the whole realm was looking for her, the North and Riverlands to raise her as their leader, the Crownlands to kill her, the Westerlands to use her, the Reach to know her, the Vale to understand her and Dorne… or rather, Oberyn to avenge Elia.
"She's living proof of Elia's misery, it's only right for her to die!" The younger Martell said, trying to convince his older brother.
"She is only a child, Oberyn. While its true Rhaegar dishonored Elia the girl is innocent. In Dorne we do not kill little girls, no matter who they are."
"I know, but still!"
"Oberyn." Doran said. "I know you despise Rhaegar, I do too, but his daughter have done nothing wrong. She was not even born when Elia and her children were murdered. Besides, she is blood of our blood, the half-sister to Aegon and Rhaenys and she has lost her entire family."
"So, what? You mean to say to let bygones be bygones and let her in like one of our own?"
"No, I'm saying she might be the opportunity we have been waiting for."
"To avenge Elia? You mean it?"
"Easy, brother. I said might. We don't know what kind of person she is yet, she could be a craven and then she won't be any good to us. She could already be dead and even if she isn't, Essos is a big place, who knows how long it would take for her to be found. She does not have the typical Targaryen look and can blend in easier than her uncle and aunt."
"So let's send some of our own men to find her, rather us than the stags."
"And tip of the king? No, Dorne is always under surveillance by the Spider, we must not draw attention to ourselves."
"So, we will just wait?!" The fury was apparent in Oberyn's voice. "As usual?!
"Yes, and you will do what I say. End of discussion."
"The Fat King will kill her as soon as he finds her and then she won't be much use, will she?"
"Oberyn, we will speak no more of this."
"Coward!" The younger shouted as he stormed outside where his daughters were playing with his paramour.
Doran sighed. He knew his brother well. Oberyn would not be able to sit still for long, his hatred had only grown over the years and now, when things started moving, Doran would not be able to handle his reckless brother for long.
xXx
Obara was splashing water on her sisters when her father came walking towards them. Her adoptive-mother, Ellaria who sat in a chair watching the girls saw him too.
Oberyn's face was dark as a thundercloud which meant her uncle had just been a craven, again.
"What is it, my love?" Ellaria asked when he sat down beside her.
"Doran has decided to do nothing about the Dragonwolf, nothing at all!" He growled. "He even refuses to send men to try to find her. What does he think he doing?"
"Father, what do you think we should do?" Obara asked.
"Well first and foremost we need to find her, however no one seems to know where she is. Seriously, what a mess."
"But what if one of us goes to Essos?"
"Doran won't allow it."
"He can't refuse if I say I want to see my mother hometown again." Nymeria said.
Nym had been born from a noblewoman from Volantis, and it would be a good cover.
Her father thought about it.
"It could work but Nymeria, you haven't been since you were a babe, and you can't go alone."
"She won't, father." Obara said. "I'll go with her."
"I don't know…"
"It's not like you to hesitate so much, father. Don't you want to find her?"
"Of course I do, but you have to be careful. Volantis is dangerous and not a good place for young girls no matter how strong you are."
"We'll be fine, don't worry."
"Fine, you can go but if you find the Targaryen girl, don't hurt her. We need her on our side."
"Yes, father."
Author's Note:
Believe me when I say, I know this chapter is in the wrong place, I should have written it earlier but it was so much more fun to write about Jean I sort of forgot it. I'm sorry everyone, I hope it's not too confusing.
So I decided to make some small changes in my writing style again. If you have followed my story from the beginning you have probably noticed that I don't really try to mimic Martin's style anymore. The language is a little more modern but I decided it was better that way since English isn't my first language.
From this chapter onwards I will write where the scene takes place when the setting changes. I think it will be easier to keep track of the POVs. This chapter takes place two years before the last chapter so Jean hasn't even come to Lys yet. Honestly it was quite boring to write which is why it took so long but I felt it was necessary.
I changed some stuff from the show to make the story go more smoothly and also because I like it. Maybe I should have put the story in ASoIaF but I didn't and now it is like this, though I don't think you mind so much. I will write down the changes just so you know and don't get too confused.
In the show the Knight of the Gate is ser Donnel Waynwood but since my story differs a lot from the canon of GoT, I decided the Blackfish are the Knight instead, like he is in the books. I also think it makes more sense since he got the position after Lysa married Lord Arryn. I also need him to be there so…yeah.
The Highgarden I write about in this chapter is the Highgarden in the books since I like it better. It doesn't change much in the story anyways.
Ser Simon Conklyn is an OC. House Conklyn does exist but is not mentioned in GoT or in ASoIaF. Ser Clifford Conklyn is mentioned in Martin's book The Sworn Sword as the head of the house during the reign of Aerys I Targaryen.
As you know Willas doesn't appear in the show but I like him quite a bit and has great potential as a character so I just want him in the story but I skipped Garlan because… I just wanted to it's my story, OK!
I changed to ages of the Sand Snakes so they are slightly younger, I did it because I checked Oberyn age to that of Obara's and saw must only have been 13-14 when he sired her and I didn't like it so I made her younger which meant I had to make the rest younger too.
I couldn't find out Ellaria's age so I decided she's born in 261AC (34 years old in 295AC) quite a bit younger than Oberyn but that's OK, since the women tend to be much younger than their husbands why wouldn't paramours?
Happy Reading
Mimi890