A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are all doing well. Almost near Christmas, but man, let's hope that this one will be as joyful as in the past despite what has happened in the past year.
Aegon had looked over the maps of Goldengrove closely, his portion of the army remaining near Longtable before they would receive word on the enemy's move to reinforce their beleaguered ally in Lord Rowan. And this time, they had updated the maps based on the recent dispatch on Jaenyx's and Visenya's efforts at the castle.
Reminding himself of Jaenyx's and the council's recommendations, Aegon knew that a direct assault on a castle was not going to be viable to them, not if they wanted their plan to work. The only times that they did succeed was because they snuck beneath the enemy's noses, they had destroyed the only force protecting it, and the garrison quickly surrendered once the dragons unleashed their fire on the walls. However, all three could not be done at Goldengrove. For one, loyalty to the Gardeners ran deep in House Rowan and they would not so easily break even at an awesome display of power. And another, Lord Rowan also understood his seat's strategic position. If Goldengrove fell, Highgarden will be the next target and that by itself was enough to stir up determined resistance. For once, loyalty might work in his favor, Aegon assessed.
Goldengrove, like many other famed castles throughout Westoros, was a fortified settlement. It sat on a lofty hill, with two rivers on two different sides. Its strong defensive features played a part in making Jaenyx take a different approach. He decided on a siege to force surrender by starvation. Considering that about six thousand Rowan men were garrisoned at Goldengrove and in its surrounding areas, together with the local smallfolk population, this would not have taken long because he was able to estimate that their food stores would be insufficient to last for a prolonged siege. To guarantee a perfect blockade, Jaenyx and Visenya ordered the construction of an encircling set of fortifications called a circumvallation. It was to be eleven miles around. While work was in progress, the Goldengrove knights tried to disrupt the construction, but the Tarareons were well-suited to challenge them and thus their effect on the construction was negligible.
However, Aegon knew that the one thing that could make or break any siege was food. Just because the Rowans had limited food stocks didn't mean that Jaenyx's and Visenya's troops had the luxury of them. To this effect, the Tarareon cavalry scoured throughout the countryside and stripped any farms in the nearby vicinity of their produce and livestock. Among other things, Jaenyx had ordered Lord Tarareon to secure forty-five days' worth of grain and an equal supply in animals to be slaughtered. Of course, the smallfolk farmers in the area reacted badly to the requisition of their harvests and the Tarareons had to scare them into seeing their forced taking of their food as "protection costs," which were to be paid if they wanted to have the dragons safeguarding them. Protection costs… that is an interesting way to describe such an ill-conceived tactic.
And once Lord Rowan sent out his ravens to call for aid, both his sister and goodbrother prepared for the arrival of the Reach's relief forces by having Aevor Rahitheon construct an outer fortification, a contravallation, with the same specifications but facing the opposite way as protection against the external attack by this relief force. It followed the most favorable ground possible and formed a circuit of fourteen miles
Within a very short span of time, some twenty-five miles of fortifications were built. They included a trench for soldiers, an anti-cavalry moat, towers at regular intervals, and booby traps in front of the trenches. The fortifications were dug in two lines, one to protect from the defenders, and one to protect from any reinforcements. With both Cloudwynd and Vhagar remaining outside Goldengrove for appearances and to bait a larger response, Jaenyx and Visenya were close to completing their encirclement of Goldengrove.
However, when Torrhen Stark reported that the smallfolk who were affected by the "protection tactics" of Jaenyx and Visenya began to show serious signs of retaliation, Aegon asked if there was anything that could be spared to compensate them and avoid an uprising.
"Did Lord Tarareon's men burn any farms or abused any of the households in their following Prince Jaenyx's orders?" Lord Bolton asked.
"None that we know of, Lord Rogar," Brandon answered.
"Then… show them that what Lord Jaenyx is doing is merciful and offer them a partial compensation to be paid in gold and silver, which they can use to buy from us," Lord Bolton offered.
Aegon was not comfortable with that plan. "You mean to say that we give them some coin to buy food from us, which will end up back in our pockets anyways while we charge them high costs?" Lord Dondarrion asked the Lord of the Dreadfort.
"Yes, my lord," Rogar Bolton nodded. "At least we're giving them a chance to buy food, which Lord Rowan might not give in times of crisis, while also not losing anything. In addition, Prince Jaenyx's 'protection' scheme will allow us an opportunity to establish our hold on the Reach in preparation for the giant clash outside of Goldengrove."
"You sure that we can win, Lord Bolton?" Lord Royce asked. He was the self-appointed leader of the Vale banners who had defected to the dragons. "Much can still happen."
"If you weren't so confident in their ability to win, Lord Royce, would you have sided with them against Lady Arryn?" Lord Bolton posed.
The Lord of Runestone was at a loss for words. And strangely, Aegon felt grateful for the head of the family known to wear the skins of their enemies, for they were the ones who turned out to have the stomach to conduct the dirty business that was war. Well, all except the Starks.
As for Torrhen Stark and Brandon Snow, both did not like the idea of forcing people to pay for their protection in the middle of a war. At the same time, they both learned not to show pity to their enemies, for they knew that there was a time to be ferocious in battle and a time to be magnanimous in victory. Right now, it's the former.
However, they still couldn't move their troops because they didn't get word that the enemy was moving on Jaenyx and Visenya. Although it was inevitable given Goldengrove's strategic importance, they had to wait for those aligned with the Faith to make the next move and put them in a place where they could feel confident in their victory and the only way to do that was for them to surround Jaenyx and Visenya in their circle of fortifications. Like bait for the fish, Aegon thought with grudge. At the same time, he learned how dirty of a business war was and everyone was doing their part, including him.
Still, that didn't make the whole process of waiting any less stressful. Due to Brandon's abilities, he had to take over Jaenyx's role as the master of whisperers in his absence and work alongside Konno Haru. But what surprised Aegon was that Konno had somehow managed to make Brandon uncomfortable, the reason being that the Lord Haru practiced a view of honor that the northmen found extreme. And that was saying something, for if there was one thing that northern First Men and the southern Andals had in common, it was that they both held honor more dearly than life itself, with the northmen just beating a bit. But for Haru and his men, whenever they dishonored themselves, they were quick to commit ritual suicide, which Aegon had the misfortune of witnessing.
In that instance, one of Konno's subordinates got into an altercation with a local over a horse. In the process, ugly words were exchanged even though they barely understood one another, and that subordinate drew his sword and cut that man's head off in front of his wife and children. For his loss of self-discipline, which made a family without a husband and father, he was to regain his honor by committing hara-kiri. Aegon, Brandon, and Torrhen watched out of curiosity, but all three were stunned when he actually did the deed, seeing him pierce his own gut with his dagger. When he was unable to continue further, Konno yelled and decapitated him to avoid further pain. The Haru men then bowed out of respect before burying his head and body with dignity. Different men have different ways of interpreting honor, it seems.
While Brandon and Konno worked to gather the needed information, Aegon went over to the temporary nursery. There, Valaena was cooing over both of her grandsons and Aegon couldn't be happier that he was a father. Seeing her son enter, Valaena quickly gathered baby Daemon from his crib and handed him to his father's arms.
It was then that Aegon began to truly appreciate how perfect his son was. With his violet eyes, silver hair, and red cheeks, he also sensed faint signs of an inferno growing in his infant body. The fire that he touched, initiated by Taygor Leniar, must've done something to his son. Indeed, that tradition belonged to the worship of the gods of old Valyria, and Aegon had to admit that the Targaryens had long forgotten about it. But now, he was starting to feel that his son was already about to become a powerful dragon, from how determined his eyes looked and how calm he was. And that was the strange thing. He, alongside his cousin Gaerion, didn't cry, making for quite an easy time for their grandmother.
"Is it normal for them to be quiet like this?" Aegon asked his mother.
"I wouldn't be so worried, Egg," Valaena answered. "Every baby is different and not all of them cry within their first moments in the world."
"Yes, but both of them? Not crying at all since they were born?"
"Maybe it's something going on that influenced their temperament," Valaena thought aloud. "But look, don't overthink it. You're a father now and you should be able to play with them without much worry."
"How do I do that?" Out of all of the things that he knew so far, playing with a baby was something that he wasn't aware of.
Valaena sighed, slightly annoyed. "Just offer your finger to him to suck on and shake him softly. He should be able to laugh when you do that."
Following his mother's advice, Aegon held out his index finger close to Daemon's mouth. Quickly and suddenly, Daemon grabbed it and pulled to his mouth, where his lips sucked on it and his tongue danced around the fingertip. Once Aegon managed to pull his finger out of his mouth, he shook up. Then, baby Daemon started to laugh, causing Aegon to feel giddy.
"Oh, my. You are a happy baby, aren't you?" Aegon chuckled. But then, he started to feel liquids letting loose onto his hands. Sniffing, he knew right away that it was piss and he groaned. "Great. My own son… soiled himself on me."
Valaena giggled, clearly amused. "Which is what you did with your own father, Egg. At least we have one clear piece of evidence that Daemon is yours after all. Both of you laughed while you relieved yourself on the father."
Aegon gingerly handed his son back to Valaena while he went and rinsed his hands. Taking a whiff after drying them, he winced from the smell. "Oh, gods. It's still there."
"Consider it a good thing, Egg," Valaena put Daemon back in his crib. "At least you know that there are other serious fights in the world, and not everything can be solved with words or a sword."
Aegon then remembered Rhaenys. "Where is Rhae?"
"Probably practicing her archery skills. She has to keep herself busy somehow," Valaena answered.
Before heading off to the range, Aegon spared one last look at his baby son. "Damn," he managed lightly before he exited the tent.
Mern, like his other captains and major lords currently with him at Cider Hall, shifted nervously as they digested the news of the developments around Goldengrove. To say that they worried them would be a grave understatement, for it was one of the largest blunders that they had all committed during their active time in the war. How could we have known foreseen this?
However, Mern remembered the ravens sent from Lord Osgrey and all of them essentially said the following message: "The dragons have been ravaging our lands. Send help now!" Of course, he and the rest of the lords were content on letting Lord Osgrey fend for himself, as they were confident in his ability to execute his duties as Marshall of the Northmarch while they felt that they needed to counter the more serious threat presented against them from Longtable. And now, their mistake in ignoring Lord Osgrey's warnings had come back to bite them in the ass, for it was now one of the Reach's most strategic castles under threat.
Unsurprisingly, Loren and his captains were quite calm. After he and his top commanders had arrived at Cider Hall in the hopes of launching a general counterattack on the enemy ranks, all of them were shocked at the frantic ravens from Lord Rowan. Well, at least the more timid members of Loren's banners. For Loren himself, he approached the situation by rubbing his beard and sipping his wine. He's not the king of the Reach, so he obviously won't take this as seriously as we are, Mern cursed to himself.
"We must respond now!, Your Grace" Lord Tarly barked.
"No doubt about that, my lord," Lord Addam Hightower responded. The Hightowers finally arranged for a few banners to be sent to reinforce the army at Cider Hall and given their importance in the structure of the Reach's power scheme, their voice had to heard, much to Mern's annoyance. "However, what do you suggest we do?"
"We have to attack the enemy at Longtable now!" Lord Fossoway suggested. "With their smaller army there and two of their riders at Goldengrove, we must take back the lands we have already lost."
"And go up against the biggest dragon of them all? That's not exactly a wise course of action," Lord Peake responded. "Whatever advantage we enjoy on the defensive will be converted to their side if we attack. And it's not just northmen and Blackwater Bay lords that are in their army. Now, they have stormlords, Valemen, and at least some rivermen that their allies at Raventree Hall were able to spare. We're facing a more diverse force than before."
"Not only that, the army that is now surrounding Goldengrove is probably just their light troops and master builders," Lord Appleton added. "If we attack Longtable now, we'll be the facing the core of their army. The results, I guarantee, will not be pretty."
"And I'm surprised, my lords, that we haven't addressed the threat from sea," Addam Hightower stated. "Orys Baratheon and his father have managed to cut the Arbor away from our kingdom and his ships have been wreaking havoc on the banks along the Honeywine. And besides the threat from the father's dragon, we also have reports of the ironborn causing more trouble at the Shield Islands."
"Of course you would mention the threat from Orys Baratheon and the ironborn, Lord Addam," Lord Appleton scoffed. "You would prioritize your own lands over the safety of everyone else, as always."
"What are you implying, Lord Appleton?" Addam took offense. Mern then heard Loren quietly groan, the King of the Rock obviously unamused at the clash of egos going on in public. One of the few times we agree on something.
"We're facing a grave threat from the dragons at Goldengrove. If that castle falls, Highgarden will be exposed and the king's family in danger. But no, you're using this time to bring attention to your own family's interests and the threats posed against them. How could you call yourself loyal to the king if you behave like this?" Lord Appelton wagged his finger accusingly at Addam Hightower.
"I am loyal to the king, but you must be aware that any damage or even the outright loss of Oldtown will be an unrecoverable blow to the entire kingdom, something that you yourself can never understand, given that you are a minor lord only given prominence because you happen to be His Grace's friend," Addam replied venomously.
Before Lord Appleton could respond to that insult, Mern cleared his throat loudly. "My lords, now is not the time for petty squabbles. And if I must remind you all, King Loren and his bannermen have arrived. Let's see what they have to say."
After Mern gave the floor to King Loren, he finished his goblet of wine and took another bite out of his apple before standing up. "Your Grace, my lords," he addressed them all. "As King Mern pointed out correctly, your current bickering is getting us nowhere. And I believe that we are all missing the obvious and most sensible path to victory."
"Would you please kindly tell us what we're missing, King Loren?" Addam Hightower was haughty to even the King of the Rock, while Loren was quick to express his disdain for the son of House Hightower.
"Well, this is the fight that will decide who will determine the fate of Westeros. I'm wagering that the force sent to besiege Goldengrove is bait, to draw us towards the seat of Lord Rowan while the core army of the dragons responds to our movements. From what Lord Rowan has told us, they only have ten thousand men, which is obviously not enough to assault a strong castle like Goldengrove," Loren answered.
"And you're suggesting that we're waiting for us to take the bait, to attack and attempt to wipe out their small army there, King Loren?" Lord Tarly inquired.
"I wouldn't discount their army on size alone, as Lord Rowan did mention that they had two dragons with them," Loren said. "However, considering that their dragons didn't try to burn Goldengrove and that they instead decided to encircle that castle with wooden fortifications, they're preparing for a long siege and they also know that they cannot assault the castle with the numbers that they have nor can they sufficiently fight off an assault on their outside perimeter. So yes, we take the bait."
The Reach lords murmured amongst themselves alongside a few of the lords sworn to the Rock, all of them concerned about Loren's choice.
"Your Grace," Lord Westerling joined in the discussion. "What about the dragons? What if they just fly from the sky and burn us all to the Seven Hells before we even draw our swords?"
"No, this time, they want a real fight," Loren shook his head. "They understand our ways very well and that we won't concede a fight until they've proven that they can beat us on our own terms. It's true that they can win this war on dragons alone, but they also know that overreliance on the dragons will lead to unintended consequences, which will be unfavorable to them. I'd say we give it to them. We have the superior numbers, we have tools that can hurt the dragons, and we have the home ground advantage. We all have good reason to protect this land and that should be enough to motivate our troops to fight like never before."
Mern took this in. For the entirety of this new phase of the dragons' incursion into Westeros, they've been winning all but one major battle and they paid the price dearly for their failure to beat them. But now was a chance to fully engage the dragons' banners in the field, and given Loren was able to beat the dragons once by getting so close to their troops that they couldn't be burned without being burnt alongside the enemy, he would be remiss to ignore his advice. No more nonsense, he thought.
And while he hid it well, he was getting tired of the war itself. While battle was glorified amongst knights, it was exhausting for himself and his family, all of whom had to prepare themselves for the deaths of their loved ones, with Gawen's death already being too hard. However, he needed to win and striking the enemy camp at Goldengrove was the best opportunity that came his way in a long time.
"As King of the Reach, I hereby… loan my full support to King Loren's suggestions," Mern announced. "Prepare the army to march to Goldengrove. We shall leave a token force at Cider Hall and we will plan accordingly once we are within sight of the enemy fortifications. I ask all of the lords here to cooperate with each other, for the future of our land and of the Faith are at stake, at a point never higher than now. With the gods' intervention and grace, we shall prevail."
Once the lords were dismissed, only Loren and Mern remained. The power shifted once again, as while Mern was king also, Loren was the more devious sort, and he knew just how to get what he wanted in any way possible.
"Are you sure that your scorpions can hold off the dragons? Their test in the Vale was absolutely dismal," Mern began with.
"It is true that the scorpions had failed to kill the silver dragon, but the effect of it by itself is useful," Loren replied. "After all, there are only four dragons in the world and their riders wouldn't realistically put them in harm's way."
"I hope you're right," Mern crossed his arms. "We are gambling much on the strike at Goldengrove. You might be good at that, which is the most prominent of your vices, but I learned to never overreach your hand."
"And that's why you probably didn't achieve very much in your reign, although as king of the most fertile realm in Westeros, what is there to achieve?" Loren shrugged.
Mern ignored that insult. "Between us, we have about seventy thousand men. I will admit that while my contribution of troops is larger than yours, your contribution is more martially inclined and used to this. But let me be clear. We share command. We're both kings and we must protect our crowns. I'll support you and I ask for yours."
Loren raised his shoulders up. "Naturally. Although I shall ask for more powers again, considering that you maneuvered against me when I lost most of the riverlands. Tell your High Septon to grant me more… temporal authority."
Mern scoffed, but he had to concede that he did lose parts of the Reach and his time as a leader was getting called into question. "As you wish."
"There, that's settled," Loren ripped off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. "I shall see you on the march… Your Grace."
"Let's make this a great win, one that will be remembered for generations," Mern said.
As King Loren left the hall to inspect his troops, Mern went back to Lord Fossoway's solar to write letters to his wife Victaria. With all of his sons knighted and his brothers eager for action, there was no better way to increase morale among the army than to see all of the Gardeners in armor and marching into the fray with them. Why not? My forebears galloped into battle when they established Highgarden and took the Reach for themselves. I shall follow their example.
And he figured that it was time for every Gardener to show themselves. With Gawen gone, someone had to take his place and there was no better time to find a suitable replacement than seeing how each of his younger sons performed in battle. Oh, Father, let our family be reborn in this crisis and come out stronger, he silently prayed as he handed the letters to be sent by raven.
Brandon scratched Autumn's head, his direwolf panting in delight like any other hound when pleasured by their bond companion. However, at this moment, the bastard of Winterfell was in deep thought about the whole progress of the war, and what will happen afterwards.
What worried him the most was that they were all nearing that point in time where everything would change for House Targaryen. He was certain that the dragons would become the new rulers of Westeros, the Starks were able to stake a sizable claim in the upcoming and new order of things, and the alliance of ice and fire was to be solidified soon. However, after the dragons receive the final confirmation as the undisputed rulers of Westeros, he sensed something terrible would happen, an event that would shake the foundations of the dual dragon houses.
While taking solace in the weirwood of Longtable one night, which surprised him since he was under the impression that there was no godswood this far south besides at least the one mentioned in Highgarden, he found himself transported to a land of hot sand. It was like other glimpses, where he would witness what had happened in the past and if the old gods were willing, a peek into future occasions.
And it was during this time that Brandon saw what he had seen multiple times in the parallel timeline, one that would negatively affect the house of the dragon and condemn them to more than two centuries of blood spilt over the sands of Dorne. He saw fires raging all around the scarce farmlands, corpses blackening from the intensity of the flames, and men running about while the women and children screamed in terror.
But Brandon had already seen what would happen. A giant weapon not unlike the scorpions seen in the Vale had managed to lodge a bolt into the arm of the source of the fire, which was flying about in the sky as if nothing could touch it before being proven gravely wrong and spinning downward before colliding on the ground. The impact of the fall must've been fatal, as that dragon died not long after crashing into the sand. As for the rider, he felt himself walk towards the still torso of the dragon and stared upon the one person who would represent the vivaciousness needed in the house of the dragon. Violet eyes stared upwards at nothing and the corpse was no longer breathing. Brandon wanted to touch her face and close her eyes, but this being a vision, he could not.
What he had seen had tormented Brandon very much, especially since Rhaenys considered him a close friend. In that timeline, Aegon had managed to conquer six of the seven kingdoms but proved unable to conquer the seventh, Dorne. And in the process of imposing a unified Westeros, she was killed by some sick stroke of luck, as the Dornishmen had managed to strike a blow that would have never been possible under a different set of circumstances. I don't believe in luck, but that was indeed one in a million. Following the demise of Rhaenys in that timeline, Aegon and Visenya unleashed their fury on the Dornishmen, but even that was not enough as the Dornish had managed to fight them off.
However, Brandon knew that he couldn't tell Rhaenys of what he had seen many times, at least not until the right opportunity presented itself. How am I supposed to say to her that she will die when the dragons inevitably turn their attention to Dorne? He was wishful in thinking that telling her in order to avoid her death would make everything better, as she would strongly deny such an occurrence and thus putting a strain on their relationship. More importantly, he understood that even though Rhaenys might be able to avoid the fate that would await her, she could still die if the gods demanded her life. Who knew that I would have to make the sick choice between my friend and the will of the old gods?
But after talking about this with Torrhen, who listened closely despite not fully understanding the otherworldly aspects of Brandon's sayings, he said, "You've been proven wrong before, Bran."
"I know that," he answered. "I just don't know how to break it to Rhae."
"Then don't tell her," Torrhen shrugged. "What if she died in that timeline? That doesn't mean that she is condemned in this one, from what you told me."
"If the dragons move towards Dorne, as they will eventually, I fear that the fate that I saw would befall her," Brandon quivered with worry.
"But in that timeline, you said that there was no mention of Jaenyx and the Valyrian people that he brought with him. Wouldn't you say that things are already different now, from what you've described of the timeline that you saw?"
"Visions can be tricky, Torry," Brandon pointed out.
"And that could cut both ways, Bran," Torrhen replied. "I will never claim to be as attuned to the will of the old gods as you are, which isn't saying very much since you don't seem to be so sure yourself." Brandon tittered. "But if Jaenyx is here in this… string of events, then what you saw might not happen at all."
"It could still."
"But you also said of other things that happened in that timeline, all of which have been avoided so far. The dragons have a much better respect for how things are conducted on the ground, and are showing themselves to be quite good at it. Moreover, there are four dragons instead of three and we already have two healthy sons, two princes with dragon blood. The future of the dragons is already starting to look both bright and secure."
"Meanwhile, the frosty First Men and the direwolf will take their place alongside the fire of the Valyrians and the dragonriders," Brandon repeated his own words allowed, or paraphrased them. He clicked his tongue. "You think it's better that I don't tell Rhae?"
"That's your decision, Bran," Torrhen stated. "If you feel like you need to tell her, no one is stopping you. But considering the many changes that are occurring right now, you really think that will be a good course of action?"
Brandon had to concede his brother's point, but he was still unsure. "I guess I have to wait just a little longer before I make my final decision." Torrhen nodded in agreement, and Brandon decided to change the topic. "Now, on to Jocelyn. How should we approach the next step?"
A messenger had managed to gallop to their encampment with all possible haste, with a dispatch from Dragonstone. Above the many worries that he had of the future, one of the things that Brandon looked forward to was being an uncle to another Stark, this one being a girl. From what Jocelyn had described of the birth, it was relatively painless compared to the birth of her boys and she could feel the strength of Gilliane Mormont in her baby girl while also happy that her daughter was already giving her a beautiful smile. Torrhen was more than elated at the birth of his daughter, for he was prepared to spoil her like any father would to their girls while boys were admittedly tougher to raise. However, Torrhen decided to hold off any public announcement to the northern lords, for there was one family that had to be notified first.
"Even though she might not be a princess, Bran, she is an occasion for celebration," Torrhen responded while grinning widely. "I finally have a daughter, a girl who could become as fierce like my mother."
"I know, but we do have a pact with the dragons, and now, we finally can begin the consummation." To say that Brandon was elated would be insufficient, but official business came first.
Having to concede that also, Torrhen and Brandon walked towards the archery range where Rhaenys was practicing. She was recovering very well from the birth, while the process had done nothing to dull her skills with the bow. And Aegon was sitting nearby, looking like an eager boy watching his idol do the thing that made him idolize that figure in the first place. If not for his kingship, Aegon would already have songs written about him being a great husband, he mused.
Seeing Torrhen and Brandon approach them, Aegon stood up while Rhaenys turned to look at them. Torrhen and Brandon dipped their heads. "Your Grace," the former addressed Aegon.
"My lord," Rhaenys set her bow and quiver down on the table. "How might we help you?"
Kissing her proffered hand in respect, Torrhen stood straight, the pride slowly becoming evident. "Your Graces, I bring news from Dragonstone. It's about my wife Jocelyn."
"How does she fare, my lord?" Aegon became interested, for he was also aware of the pregnancy.
"She has given birth, to a girl," Torrhen answered and Brandon was content on letting his brother do the talking.
"My congratulations, Lord Stark," Aegon shook his hand. "I have finally felt the joy of seeing a child of your blood enter the world, and I can only imagine how much happiness you have now."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Torrhen smiled. "And I have high hopes for my daughter, even though I will do my best to ensure that she has everything she could ever want."
"And then some more," Rhaenys grinned. "Have you given your newborn daughter a name?"
"Her name is Alys, Queen Rhaenys," Torrhen revealed. "Alys Stark."
"Beautiful name, and one with proven worth amongst the fairest of maidens," Aegon complimented Torrhen. "I wish Alys Stark a long and happy life."
"And that's why we have come here, Your Grace. To discuss her future," Brandon stepped in.
Aegon and Rhaenys glanced at each other, for they quickly remembered their deal. "Of course. The pact of ice and fire must be consummated, and with the arrival of Lady Alys, serious negotiations can finally begin," Rhaenys said.
"We don't want to put unnecessary pressure on you, Your Graces, especially given the situation that we are in. But we must look to the future and the arrivals of my daughter and your son Prince Daemon will become the key to the type of realm we both want to make," Torrhen explained.
"Indeed," Aegon agreed. "But given the war situation, might I request that we hold off serious discussions until after the upcoming battle? Unless we win this clash, there will be little point in talking about it if we are delayed and we must ensure that there will something that we will leave our children."
Torrhen nodded in understanding. "Of course, Your Grace."
"But rest assured, my lord," Rhaenys put her hand on his shoulder. "We were able to get this far only because of your help, so we have every intention of repaying you for all that you've done. Honoring our word is the least we can do."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Torrhen answered gratefully. "That means very much to me."
Once Torrhen revealed the birth of his daughter to Rhaenys and Aegon, he turned around to announce it to the northern lords. Meanwhile, Brandon was left with the both of them. "I can't imagine how much joy you have in becoming an uncle one more time over," Rhaenys engaged with Brandon.
"I intend to spend much of my time with her once the fighting has ceased," Brandon grinned. "Someone has to teach her how to be a true Stark, one that actually knows how to bond with a direwolf unlike my poor excuse of a brother."
Rhaenys chuckled at Brandon making such a jest about his brother. "I still find it enjoyable whenever you say such words at others' expense."
"One way that I learned to deal with the type of life I had to live," Brandon shrugged.
Jaenyx had Lord Tarareon report on the exact gains made from the countryside. As instructed, the reliable Valyrian cavalryman had managed to secure forty-five days' worth of grain and a sufficient number of beasts to be slaughtered for their meat. Once the enemy came, they wouldn't be able to get food anymore and that would be one of the main things that would determine who would win in a battle for time. He was very aware that the locals had become very angry at the loss of their herds and harvest without due compensation, and he was just barely able to prevent them from attacking him and the army by offering them the opportunity to buy food from them, using the suggestion given by Aegon, Rhaenys, and the other lords at Longtable. This would also double as "protection costs." Also, Jaenyx made sure to write down how much each household had been deprived of their food, so as to properly pay them when hostilities had died down. We'll have to come up with the coin somehow, he thought, though he was no expert on financial matters despite inheriting a fortune from his parents.
As for the fortifications, as he explained in detail to Aegon in his letter, the troops had to cut down some parts of the nearby patches of forest for building material, which alongside the scouring for food was made difficult by the mounted knights of House Rowan who sallied forth to disrupt them. Lord Tarareon was able to fight them off using his men's ability to fight and shoot arrows from horseback. And thanks to Aevor Rahitheon's drive for efficiency and lack of tolerance for delays, they were able to complete the necessary fortifications to keep both the Rowan men in at Goldengrove and the coming enemy reinforcements out.
But besides the battles, what really made Jaenyx nervous was the waiting. It occurred to him that this was truly the first time that they would undertake a real siege, as they previously avoided doing so because they needed to move fast and strike at the forces that were protecting the castles that they were interested in. Haystack Hall was overwhelmed because of infiltration, Harrenhal was burnt before an assault could take place, and any other castle they encountered was seized because they knew how to use their dragons to achieve the minimum amount of force towards their goals.
And there was the risk associated with conducting a siege so far into enemy-held lands. This was their home, and they knew it well. This also gave them all the more reason to fight, especially since the Rowans would not so easily sway from the Gardeners. Also, unlike the other times, they couldn't just take Goldengrove because they didn't have the sufficient manpower for a direct assault and doing so would defeat the purpose of their plan, which was to draw out the enemy to conduct a general counterattack on them.
Jaenyx understood that everyone was tired of the war and wished to end it quickly. At the same time, he also knew that they had to beat them at their own game, for that was the most effective way to quell future resistance against them. They'll learn that besides being dragon riders, we can fight their kind of war better than they ever can.
Now, all they had to do was wait for the enemy to come to them, as the ravens sent out by Lord Rowan should have reached Cider Hall by that point.
"We can't centralize our food stores," Jaenyx told Lord Tarareon. "We have to even them out, prevent our supply from becoming an easy mark for the enemy to set fire to."
"A reasonable approach, Your Grace," Lord Tarareon answered. "At the same time, we must control the food consumption to manageable levels. We should start rationing the grain and food to maximize their usage."
"Agreed," Jaenyx nodded. "And if we're going to ration, we'll also have to cut down our own food. No more wine is to be drunk and everyone will get the same amount. I will take the first step in joining the troops down at the pots."
Lord Tarareon bobbed his head. "That will send a good message, Prince Jaenyx. The fact that their commander is willing to share in their deprivations in the face of such circumstances. But will Princess Visenya do that as well? She might need the food, for she should recover from delivery Prince Gaerion."
"I will discuss it with her, but I have every confidence that she will do what is needed. And she is a commander as well, so she has to consider setting a good example."
"Of course. By the way, I have the casualty report for the day." He handed Jaenyx the list of dead, which numbered thirty, along with sixty wounded.
Not as bad as the other days, but we have to keep the losses at a bare minimum, even at none, Jaenyx thought. "See to it that the dead are buried with honor and that the wounded are treated well. We have to get them back into fighting condition as quickly as possible."
"Already done, Your Grace."
Jaenyx smiled in approval. "That's what I always liked about you, Ragaemor. You know what to do before I said it and have remained one of the few that I can trust in the coming future."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Ragaemor expressed his gratitude.
"And now that we're talking about the future, where do you see yourself? You're already a lord, but you must have lands and a castle. Where would be a good place to stake your claim?"
"Wherever that may be, Prince Jaenyx, it has to have enough space where I can raise horses and produce an income where I can feed them and also keep my family well-armed and unworried about material concerns," Lord Tarareon stated.
"Well, to be honest, there are plenty of places in Westeros where you can do that, at least in the lands that is not Dorne," Jaenyx pointed out. "What is your preference?"
"If I can be honest." Jaenyx gave him a look of incredulity, meaning that Lord Tarareon could always be honest with him. "The riverlands and the Reach are the most tempting of places, since they both have fertile land and are quite spacious. However, there are too many rivers in the former and one would have to possess a large portion of the latter to be considered a force to be reckoned with. I also noticed that there is a lack of variety of wealth in both, for the riverlords and the Reach houses that we've encountered all derived their incomes from the land."
"True," Jaenyx was interested in where Ragaemor was going with this, as he touched on a very observant point.
"While I do want much open land to raise horses, I also want to ensure that coin will flow into my pockets whether it be a good harvest or a bad one. And there is only other place in Westeros where I can explore many avenues towards wealth."
Jaenyx knew quickly where he was referring to. "You speak of the gold mines in the Kingdom of the Rock?"
"From what I learned, the farmland there is quite sufficient and there is much money to be extracted from the hills there. You already have an ally in the riverlands and in the north, so it might do you some good to have one over in those lands."
Jaenyx rubbed his chin. Lord Tarareon's proposal was solid, for there was a need to establish a Valyrian presence in the former kingdoms aligned against them, and the Tarareon line could be the first to set that precedent. "Any ideas where you might want to settle down, exactly?"
"Possibly the crown jewel of the Rock itself, the home of King Loren," Tarareon went straight for it.
Jaenyx pursed his lips in thought. "Casterly Rock… I am very inclined to grant you that request considering how you well you served me for so long."
"But?" Ragaemor knew Jaenyx long enough to know when to speak informally.
"You are aware that we now have an agent in the enemy camp, someone with seniority?"
"And that someone is also aiming for Casterly Rock," Ragaemor figured out. "Who then?"
"Weslar Reyne, the Lord of Castamere."
"So, you're willing to grant the request of a turncoat?"
"Nonsense, but appearances have to be maintained in order for the final goals to be met," Jaenyx assured him. "We have to approach the matter of Lord Reyne carefully, for how we do so can seriously affect our chances in winning the war. But I promise you, I will give you what you want and more. It's the least I can do."
Ragaemor knew that Jaenyx's word was good, but he still didn't like the circumstances. "Weslar Reyne… who'd have thought?"
"Not surprising, if you were aware of just how much the Reynes and the Lannisters loath each other," Jaenyx shrugged. "I wasn't born here, and yet I was able to quickly understand how much bad blood is between them."
"Right," Ragaemor nodded. "I guess I should see to the troops then."
"I'll join you."
As Jaenyx and Ragaemor inspected the quickly constructed wooden ramparts that both surrounded Goldengrove and protected them from external attack, both of them gave reassurances to the sentries, all of whom were fulfilling a thankless but vital role. Jaenyx stared back at the Rowan troops who were looking from above, but he could see that they were very afraid. They most definitely had heard what the dragons could do and they must have felt apprehension because they weren't burned yet. Cloudwynd resting on the ground while Vhagar was flying above certainly made them more nervous, as it would seem to them that the dragons were playing with their prey before coming in for the final strike. That's what they should feel, but they don't know what we're really trying to accomplish.
After making their rounds, Jaenyx saw Vhagar coming down after completing her circle. Getting himself to the boiling pots, where he picked up two bowls of stew and a couple loaves of bread, he approached his wife's mount as he walked to her while she was dismounting. Even so soon after childbirth, she seemed to be recovering well. And she looks all the more beautiful for it.
They both exchanged a deep kiss, but Visenya was surprised at the meager rations Jaenyx was holding. "What's this?"
"We have to ration the food because we don't know what's going to happen, and we have to join in to set a good example," Jaenyx answered.
"My, my," Visenya showed her surprise. "Is that… you showing concern about how people see you?"
"Respect goes both ways, Vis. You obviously know that," Jaenyx said.
Visenya nodded in agreement. "Absolutely." She then snatched the bowl of stew and loaf of bread. "Might actually be refreshing for a change, eating simple food."
Jaenyx was relieved that she went along. They found a group of soldiers sitting around a fire, all of them standing up at their arrival. But once both of them bid them to sit back down, the couple joined them in their circle as they ate their stew and bread.
"Your Graces, you don't have to do this," one of the troops said.
"No, we're happy to," Visenya told him. "Reminds us of what you all go through and gives us more reason to fight for you. We don't need more spoiled rulers in this land."
The troops were surprised at how… in touch Visenya was to their situation, which was not what they expected of the fearsome she-dragon. This made them more comfortable as they eased up and resumed their conversations with each other.
"How soon can Egg and Rhae come?" Visenya turned to Jaenyx as she stuffed bread in her mouth.
"Once the enemy moves, they'll come," Jaenyx reminded her. "And I know you want to be with Gaerion as soon as possible, as do I."
"I just… want to hold him in my arms again. Never thought that being a mother was so…" Visenya couldn't find the word to finish her sentence.
For Jaenyx, nothing more needed to be said. "Don't worry. We will have time to be a family, a true one, and our son, like our other children, will remember us."
Visenya grinned while putting her head on Jaenyx's shoulder, which he reciprocated. The soldiers were again surprised that they were so openly affectionate, but Jaenyx wanted them to see. Dragons might bring death, but our ferociousness makes us stronger in bond. That's what many don't see.
A/N: As you can see, I've decided to do a different approach, because we are finally at the Field of Fire. Given how important this battle was, I felt that presenting different POVs would be necessary to describe how the battle will affect everyone present.
Aegon is spending some quality time as a father, Mern is making that fateful decision to involve members of his family in battle, Brandon agonizing, and Jaenyx setting the first stage. The Field of Fire will indeed be epic like that offered by Martin.
For all those reading, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!