A/N: Hey, people! I'm sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Been busy and went through the regular complications in life. But I'm still working on this, because we all need good material these days.
Joon sat on the right of the phoenix throne, which was on Khiara's left. Across him was Daeron Targaryen, who represented the imperial guard as its captain. On the same side was Daeron was Prince Kaijin, his uncle Benjen Stark, Minster Zong, and Admiral Okamoto. On the same side as Joon himself was Lord Buko, the newly appointed Imperial Quartermaster Shin, and the representative of the Five Forts. All of them were arranged in a near-complete circle, with Khiara having the most prominent position atop the throne. Samwell Tarly, as the secretary, would record what they would discuss while Daenerys Targaryen was allowed to observe.
"The first order of business is to reorganize this empire into army districts," Lord Buko began with. "We cannot rely on the provincial system of governance, as two of our four governors declared against the Princess Regent, so a widespread change of our administration must be implemented.
"Army districts?" Admiral Okamoto asked. "You mean to tell me that the army will run this empire at the expense of the fleet?"
"If we are to implement such a system of governance following your recommendations, it'll have to represent the fleet also," Minister Zong pointed out. "The southern provinces can be ruled by fleet officers, with areas near the sea to be controlled by captains and marine officers in charge of areas further inland. The northern provinces can be administrated by the army, as it has been for centuries, with no further changes needed."
"But we should take care in not having radical changes," Quartermaster Shin warned. "While this arrangement is what we need after such a shakeup in our empire, we cannot have generals and admirals, no offense, to rule indefinitely. We have to make plans to return to normal government as soon as we are able."
"You want court officials in charge again, after what they've done?" Lord Buko was incredulous.
"We came here to support the Princess Regent against the Prime Minister and as of right now, he's losing," Minister Zong said. "But the longer the generals and admirals remain in power, the people will interpret this as a military takeover, and they will soon rebel against us."
"Let them," Lord Buko stated. "We have the tanegashima, experienced soldiers, sailors, and marines, and we have the resources to put down one rebellion after another. The advantages will always be with us."
"In the beginning, that might be the case," Prince Kaijin joined in. "However, bloodshed begets bloodshed. You might dismiss popular unrest as an unruly mob, but the harder you push them, they'll just push right back. No amount of black powder or swords will be enough to put them down."
"I agree with His Highness," Benjen Stark added. "While I might have had my own doubts about how affairs were conducted before all of this, this is not the best way to resolve the issues at present. Not even in Westeros would we envision soldiers ruling our lands, as men with weapons is never a welcome sight."
"You come from a land of white devils, Lord Stark, a land where sloth, idleness, an unnatural attachment to liberty, and lack of respect for industriousness are rampant," Lord Buko pointed his finger at Benjen. "What would your people know about discipline, which we can cultivate right here and now with a reorganization of this empire along military lines?"
Daeron, Samwell, and Benjen took great offense at Lord Buko making such common insults at them.
"May I say something?" Daenerys made her presence known while Khiara consented to her talking. "It's very unwise to say such things about a land and a people that you never saw, Lord Buko. You might have more pride in your own people since they fit a view of the world that you are most comfortable with, but just because certain people do not fit your narrow expectations does not give you the right to disrespect them."
"Your Majesty, you haven't been born in Westeros and never even seen it," Lord Buko pointed out. "What makes you so sure about them?"
"My point," Daenerys continued while silently telling Daeron to remain seated. "Is that your emphasis on force will not work well with anyone, especially if you are trying to change who they are. If you drastically change one's circumstances in order to make them do something, that might not work at all. In fact, they might respond in a manner that you haven't anticipated."
"Your ancestor Aegon Targaryen, both of yours, changed Westeros and turned seven kingdoms into one. Did he do that by asking and being kind?"
"We're talking about people, not kingdoms," Daeron joined in. "I personally think that an administrative reorganization is much needed, but if you try to force discipline on the people, they will rebel."
"Over time, if people rebel again and again," the Quartermaster added. "We will lose a good amount of the treasury, soldiers, and even cities if someone is stupid enough to burn them down in retribution. But we are getting off topic here, Lord Buko."
"Indeed," Khiara said. "As we are discussing the matter of administrative reform, the final decision will be made by me. However, I will not have assembled this council if I was going to make the decisions by myself, for we are all in this together. All in favor of reorganization, raise your hand." Everyone, including Joon, did so. "Very well. I shall order it immediately. Now, let's move on to another matter, one that will affect the empire in the long-term."
"Your Highness?" Minister Zong asked.
"It is my intention to support the claim of Daeron Targaryen to the Iron Throne, but given recent developments, my support has now changed to support both Daeron and Daenerys Targaryen," Khiara announced. "Such support is best expressed through money, supplies, and troops. I intend to give much of the first two, but I must admit that I am at a bit of quandary when it comes to the third. Obviously, we can't just give them regular brigades for that will cause a lot of problems that will further affect our soldiers."
Joon nodded. Having seen how much Jon had grown from when he first met him in that prison, he was very much inclined to support his claim also. "You're very correct, Your Highness. As the person who has had the most interactions with the Targaryens out of all of us assembled here, I can attest that our support will very much give us dividends in terms of goodwill. By providing the Targaryens money and supplies, I trust that Daeron and Daenerys Targaryen will also grant us exclusive trading rights to trade with Westeros, an untapped market despite the presence of the white devils there?"
Daeron looked at Daenerys, both of them making the next decision together. "That is a bridge to be crossed at a later time, Prince Joon, but if that is what you ask for in return for your support, we accept."
"Excellent," Khiara nodded. "Just like we discussed. But we still haven't figured out the issue about soldiers."
"If I might intercede, Your Highness," the Quartermaster raised his hand. "I would like to propose an alternative, one that will allow us to provide the troops the Targaryens would need while also costing us little in political terms."
Joon became curious, as did Khiara, Daeron, Daenerys, Benjen, Samwell, and everyone else on the council. "Go on," Khiara urged.
"It is a common practice for sellswords to be utilized when it comes to exerting imperial will without using regular troops and ships. But in this instance, the Targaryens would need more than just regular sellswords. They would need to have an army that would be more than enough to take on the banners of Westeros, led by only the best officers and possessing the best equipment and ships. To pay for this sellsword force, we would have the merchants who sided with the Prime Minister show their loyalty to the Princess Regent by having them assume the costs. Some of those merchants will then have to accompany the sellsword army to Westeros to see their investment through, where they will then settle there and build the trade networks between our empire and the Seven Kingdoms," the Quartermaster elaborated.
"Go on," Khiara pressed.
"But here comes another problem: finding the troops and officers needed. We can send out notices to all of the local commanders offering contracts and a handsome reward to those who would join. Soldiers who volunteer will get twice their bonus in terms of silver, while officers will resign their commissions and accept positions in this army. Of course, many will try to join, so we have to make it a selective force."
"How large do you propose this army to be?" Admiral Okamoto asked.
"I would say… forty thousand."
Benjen Stark made his voice heard. "I don't think that will be an adequate force to fight the combined banners that will arrayed against us. The kingdom of the Reach can field seventy thousand men, Dorne fifty thousand, the Westerlands fifty thousand, the stormlands thirty thousand, and the personal banners of the Baratheon king fifteen thousand."
"Those numbers could far lower, Lord Stark," Samwell said. "With the war going on and continued fighting amongst the houses of Westeros, we might a significantly smaller force."
"Still, we would need more than forty thousand to fight and ensure the final victory of House Targaryen," Benjen answered.
"I would disagree, Lord Stark," Joon stated. "From what I know of how the Westerosi banners fight, they don't have a permanent army or professional soldiers. They might call upon a larger force, but numbers do not win wars by itself. Meanwhile, the men who would volunteer themselves for this sellsword army would bring years of combat experience and its officers familiar with complex organizations. Whatever this force would be, they would not crack as easily as you would expect irregular armies."
"And will every house in Westeros stand against you when you arrive?" Kaijin asked. "I'm sure that given the war and how badly I've heard of this Baratheon king, there will probably be many who will side with the Targaryens."
Joon saw Daeron and Daenerys whispering to each other. "If you have any thoughts, please make them heard."
Daeron allowed Daenerys to talk. "I am grateful that the empire will support me and my nephew as we return home to take back what is rightfully ours. I must say that despite my recent sufferings at the hands of the previous court, I remain impressed by how advanced your empire is. No doubt that what we bring from this place will of great benefit to Westeros. At the same time, I must emphasize that for practical reasons, there is only so much that we can take with us back to Westeros. We will have a long journey ahead, so whatever help you will provide us must not be so burdensome."
Joon nodded. "Understood, Your Majesty. But what do you think of the Quartermaster's suggestions? Through this sellsword army, we can support your claim while also granting us political protection should things not go in your favor. No offense."
"None taken," Daenerys acknowledged. "And I must admit that it is a cunning measure, for who can blame a ruler when his or her merchants hired soldiers to act on their behalf?"
"It's good to see you that you understand," Khiara nodded in approval. "And this also ensures that we only get the best soldiers and officers, for our standards will be high. All those in favor." After seeing everyone raise their hands, she nodded. "Good. There will be notices sent out to the army commander and the fleet captains. Any other business related to this will be delegated to the Targaryens. It is their army after all. What other matters should this council attend to?"
"Your Highness," Quartermaster Shin said once more. "I do have reports of unrest fomenting in the city, all of them dissatisfied with the current state of the empire. And I do fear if we do not respond, we might have a riot on our hands."
Mingyu stood in the doorway of the temple in which the Prime Minister had made his command center. For some bizarre reason that she didn't understand at the moment, she saw a water buffalo in the foreground, walking down the steps.
What stumped Mingyu the most after hearing where the Prime Minister's forces were was that instead of regrouping, the Prime Minister had some monks conduct a ceremony. She saw some of his troops soldiers dancing and singing around the water buffalo while the monk was chanting some nonsense.
Mingyu and members of the clan who temporarily made peace with her were able to move through the camp undetected, accomplished by dressing as travelers and merchants. The whole spectacle of the Prime Minister's remaining troops holding a ceremony over a water buffalo and monks saying whatever they said best was all too… bizarre for her.
As the group moved through the camp, they saw the remaining enemy commanders sitting with their troops, but their armors and swords had been taken off while they dressed in common attire. A line of monks with sharpened canes danced toward the water buffalo while the other monks were sitting and singing in the background among the troops. What in the hells is going on here?
Mingyu expected the camp, situated deep in the jungle surprisingly, to be bigger and livelier. But what she found instead was a series of smaller camps with troops simply wasting time and not doing much about anything. They had camped near a stony temple, which had long been deserted except for monkeys crawling around it. She could smell the wine as many took to drink, hear the incoherent yelling that came many of the enemy troops' mouths, and felt the hopelessness among them. It was as if they knew that the war was lost and had thus decided to stop fighting since there was no longer a point to it.
Looking back on the water buffalo, she saw it one of the troops smearing it with blood that he poured from a pitcher along its neck, in preparation for whatever ceremony the monks had in mind. The water buffalo then had its head being tied to a stake.
And that was when Mingyu and the group saw their target: the Prime Minister. They saw his silhouette enter the doorway of the temple. Nodding to each other, Mingyu then crouched while drawing her wakizashi and the troops and monks dance in the background as if there the morning would never come. One of the soldiers then slashed a knife into the back of the water buffalo.
As it fell to the ground, the other troops then natives swung their own knives into its back before carving it up. They lost their minds.
After checking that no one was looking at them, she and the group rose slowly and then ran into the temple.
Once inside, Mingyu and the group worked their way toward the interior. She approaches a guard from behind, puts her hand over the guard's mouth, brings up her wakizashi, and pulls him back into the dark shadows, where she slices his neck without him whimpering.
Mingyu and the group saw that the Prime Minister Shu was sitting and talking to a monk, which further surprised her as she had heard that such a man like him was never spiritually devout in any form. Probably trying to make sense of why he lost, she thought as she and her group slowly moved forward, quietly sneaking toward Prime Minister Shu as they heard him speak to the monk.
"How did this all happen? I did everything right and I came from the right background. My claim to the phoenix throne might have been weak, but I descend from imperial blood. And then, I get beaten by factors that I had never thought would come, despite marrying my daughter to the Crown Prince." His speech or rather his tone was what got their attention, as it contradicted everything that they had imagined of him. It all made sense when they saw two wine pots nearby. Drinking his worries away? Pathetic.
Signaling for the group to stay back, as she needed to be the one to deliver the blow, Mingyu stepped behind Prime Minister Shu while raising her wakizashi. Prime Minister Shu turned around just as Mingyu brought her sword down and began to hack away at Prime Minister Shu, hitting him first on the shoulder, then all over his chest, belly, and legs. The Prime Minister fell to the floor, his eyes moving towards his assailants once more.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
Mingyu knelt down in front of him while the group silenced the monk he was talking with. "Your reckoning, here to put you out of your misery and the time you've borrowed up till this moment."
"You… you…" His breathing became weaker.
"Where is Sumeng?" she asked. But before she could get his answer, the prime minister breathed his last and he died.
"Shit," the leader of the group cursed. "Where do we find the prince now?"
That was when Mingyu thought of something. It might be crazy, but it just might work.
A moment later, she and the group went outside the temple, the Prime Minister's head in her hands. Nodding to the group leader, he then took out his handheld tanegashima and shot in the air, thereby getting the attention of the hedonic troops who were feasting over the remains of the water buffalo.
"Behold! Your leader!" Mingyu shouted. The troops were stunned, the generals shocked, and the monks surprised. "All of you must see that your rebellion has failed. All of you must understand that you have acted on behalf of the wrong side! If I were an army, I would have seen to it that none of you will walk out of here alive!"
The troops and generals were about to attack, although how successful they would be was doubtful given that they were all still in their drunken stupor.
"But now, I have a choice to present to you. I know someone who has the ear of the Princess Khiara and she will be willing to pardon you all if you all surrendered. If you follow me to the capital, you will receive that."
"And why should we trust you, woman? Are you not an assassin, a cutthroat just as easily to be killed as we all are?" one of the enemy generals spat.
"There is one other way to ensure that you keep your lives," Mingyu said. "We must use Prince Sumeng. With his life, we will be able to buy ours. Imagine what will await us all if we bring to the Princess Khiara what she needs."
"And if she doesn't spare our lives?" another soldier asked.
Mingyu knew that she was taking a huge risk, but it was something that had to be done if she wanted to regain the trust of Benjen again. Maybe not entirely, but it'll be a start. "Well, it's the crown prince that we are speaking of. And we can use to get what we need, our lives, either by turning him in or by supporting him. Whatever the result, his status as the only one born from the previous empress' womb makes him valuable."
The troops and generals murmured amongst each other, while the monks looked on curiously.
"Where is he?" Mingyu asked once more.
"We never said that we'll give him up. If what you say is true, then handing him over would be equivalent to signing our death warrants," one of the generals stated.
"What's your name?" Mingyu asked him.
"Major-General Won Eom, acting commander of the southern foot."
"Acting commander? What happened to the official commander?"
"He's dead, burned alive by that red dragon."
Meleys. "You should know that the one I know is in fact the uncle of the dragon prince, Benjen Stark."
That was not at all expected by General Eom. "You know General Stark?"
"I do, and I can assure that if we turn over the crown prince, he'll be able to persuade the dragon prince, who in turn has a very close relationship with the Princess Khiara, to spare your lives. Even someone like the princess understands that she cannot hope to rule the many regions of the empire by killing all of the army officers. You might pay fines or other penalties, but you won't suffer the fate awaiting traitors. That, I can promise you."
"And why would you care about our safety?"
"I honestly don't." Mingyu had to make that clear. "But we both get something out of surrendering Prince Sumeng to the Princess Khiara. I and my group here will be able to live the rest of our lives as legitimate citizens of the empire, while you and the others will keep your heads at the minimum. And you must see, you cannot win at this point. The northern armies and the fleets have with the princess, and everyone who you took orders from are dead, in hiding, or captured. Do you really believe that you have other alternatives besides running a campaign in these jungles?"
"We can hold out for a long time here."
"Maybe if the dragons weren't flying the skies above the empire, you would be correct. But there are two dragons flying and they have sided with the princess. Your chances of survival have just been wiped out, because the dragons and their riders will simply burn the jungle and flush you out. Now, must I continue to spell out just how fucked you are?"
The generals saw her point. "Do you believe that by handing over the prince, we'll get to keep our lives?"
"If you don't like what I had to say, you're welcome to keep fighting. The question is, are you willing to do that? And more importantly, are your troops willing to fight for a lost cause while their families suffer?"
The generals gulped altogether. In this situation, the troops were very likely to mutiny and surrender anyway, as even they saw that there was no point. Otherwise, they wouldn't have drunk as if there was no tomorrow.
Then, one of the generals nodded to one of the junior officers, who ran towards one of the huts. That officer dragged who Mingyu recognized as the crown prince. But given his messy clothes, untied hair, growing beard, and the yapian daze in his eyes, it wasn't hard for Mingyu to guess what he was doing before being dragged in such a disgraceful manner.
"Is that him?"
"I doubt he'll be worth anything," General Eom said.
Mingyu went down the stairs and grabbed him by the cheeks as she looked at his eyes. She shook her head, for the crown prince had succumbed to despair and sought refuge in what he could inhale through his nose.
"Still, he's alive and therefore useful to us." She stood back up. "Are you with me, general?"
The general looked at the crown prince, or what was left in him in terms of mind, and sighed. "I can't believe that the Prime Minister was making all of the decisions and we fought for the wrong member of the imperial family." General Eom looked at Mingyu once more. "Are you sure that our lives will be spared?"
"Alongside General Stark, Joon Kitara will be most reasonable. I'm sure that you know that he's not going to indiscriminately kill you all just because you made the wrong decision."
"Indeed." General Eom knew Joon Kitara and that was enough to persuade him. He then turned to the officer who dragged him out. "Make sure that he's well taken care of. And get him off that yapain shit. He needs to look healthy."
"Very good, general," the officer complied.
"As for you, lead the way."
Mingyu got a horse and with her group of shinobi now led the remainder of the Prime Minister's troops out of the jungle southwards towards Yin.
Sansa had to admit that she was nervous at meeting Lord Wyman Manderly in such settings. Despite him being the first to voice support for her as she landed at White Harbor with her Vale allies and her betrothed Ser Harold Hardyng and Littlefinger, she knew that the hard work was just getting started. She was far from establishing a strong hold for House Stark on the North and she had no illusions on what awaited her.
However, the Manderlys giving me support is a good start.
"It is true then. You are Sansa Stark," Wyman Manderly said. "It's very hard to forget what you looked like when you deprived us of your presence all those years ago. Has it really been that long?"
"Maybe not as long as you might think, but it's been more than a few years," Sansa answered. "I'm very glad to be home in the North."
"Indeed. A Stark might travel elsewhere, but their place is always here," Lord Manderly stated. "Come, let us drink to your return."
Sansa was led by Lord Manderly to the great hall of White Harbor and there, she found many of the smaller houses sworn to the merman of the Manderlys gathered there. All of them were suspicious of Ser Harrold and the Vale lords who had sailed with her, but no one was going to provoke twenty thousand troops who stood at their doorstep.
Littlefinger was close behind the betrothed couple, and Sansa could sense that he was getting a feeling of the whole atmosphere with his eyes. However, she was not as confident in how his scheming would work in the North.
This is not the south. He needs to know that things are different here, or the northmen will eat him alive.
Pouring wine into her cup, Lord Manderly turned to the smaller lords sworn to him. "My lords, the words are true. Sansa Stark is alive and has come home. With her here, we can finally end the reign of the Bolton bastards, begin setting things right in the North, and conduct affairs that should've been conducted. Today, let us celebrate, for one of the brood of our beloved Lord Eddard has returned!"
The lords cheered and music played while food was served. Lord Manderly had Sansa sit close to him while he had Ser Harrold and Littlefinger sit at a nearby table.
"Is it true, my lady?" Lord Manderly asked. "You are betrothed to Ser Harrold Hardyng?"
"Yes," Sansa said.
"By the old gods," Lord Manderly whispered in frustration. "My lady, you have any idea what you've just done?"
"I beg your pardon?" Sansa set her cup down.
"I might not have met Lord Baelish before, my lady, but I certainly know his sort. And you just made a deal with a devil, for whatever reasons that he used to persuade you to agree to the betrothal of Ser Harrold would always work in his advantage."
"I know that."
Lord Manderly was surprised. "You know that, my lady?"
"I had to make my choices carefully, my lord. I know that Lord Baelish is untrustworthy, but I also can't do anything about him yet because he did ensure that I remained alive and that I received the support from the Vale as you saw just off the docks of White Harbor."
"All right, my lady. I have to agree that was logical of you to do, but you will invite Vale influence into the north," Lord Manderly acknowledged And whatever children that you have with Ser Harrold will not carry the Stark name."
"I might be betrothed, but I have to go along with the betrothal anyhow. And if I do break it, the Valemen will go home."
"Was there no other way for you to get support, my lady?"
"No." Sansa shook her head. "I'm going to need all the help I can get if I am to reclaim Winterfell for my family."
"That's not an easy task, my lady," Lord Manderly said. "As long as the Boltons hold that fortress, it'll be near impossible to pacify the North in the name of House Stark."
"I am aware of that, my lord. And the difficulties are compounded with the invasion of the wildlings, who have taken the Dreadfort and I have reports that Hornwood is about to be invested."
Lord Manderly shook his head. "Complete mess, the wildling invasion. Not only was the Night's Watch too long neglected, the late Roose Bolton made things worse by not handling the problem carefully."
"Wait, late?" Sansa didn't know that fact.
"Yes. We received a raven from Winterfell saying that Roose Bolton was dead by his own hand. Good riddance, if I may say."
Good riddance, indeed. But Sansa realized that the task didn't become easy just because the very traitor of the North was dead.
"But who rules from Winterfell now?"
"His bastard son and heir, Ramsay."
Sansa had heard of Ramsay, and every word she had heard of him was not good at all.
If even half of what I heard is true, then I have more of a struggle ahead of me, she thought.
"How many men does Ramsay command?"
"He so far has the loyalty of the Umbers, the Karstarks, the Glovers, and the Dustins so far. That grants him a total strength of about eight thousand men, which includes the Karstark horsemen. But the good news is that despite their numbers, they only control a relatively small part of the north. They don't have the loyalty of the northern mountain clans, the Mormonts, the Flints, the crannogmen, or those in the southwest. Seven Hells, even the Cerwyns and the Pooles have resisted him, so their area of movement is very limited."
Sansa nodded. "But what about the wildlings? Still one hundred thousand in total?"
"That's just the accepted count, but whatever numbers they can muster, they're not going to conquer all of the North."
"And why not?" Sansa asked.
"If they wanted to conquer the North, they would have gone straight for Winterfell. But even the King-Beyond-The-Wall, Mance Rayder, knows that they don't have the equipment nor the experience necessary to take such a mighty fortress."
"But what about the giants? I hear that they also have mammoths with them," Sansa pointed out.
"They're only useful in open battles, not sieges from what I can understand," Lord Manderly dismissed. "Besides, it looks as though they are trying to flee their homelands."
"From what?" Sansa asked.
"That… is unknown. But it must be serious enough for them to breach the Wall and go this far south."
"Should we be worried that White Harbor might be next?"
"Even Mance Rayder would understand that taking the only city in the North is next to impossible, even with the numbers he can bring to bear. And we are well-supplied for a long siege, while those barbarians don't even have a simple understanding of how to supply their troops, so I'm not worried."
The North seems more like a hell than the last time that I was here.
Sansa took this all in. From what Lord Manderly told her, the North could officially be divided into four. The wildlings controlled most of the east save for the southeast, the northern mountain clans were neutral, the Boltons only controlled a part of the northern North, and the rest of the southern reaches of the North were not on the Boltons' side. While this might have made her task a little easier, it was also harder at the same time.
"Could we invite houses such as the Reeds, the Mormonts, and the Hornwoods to join forces?" Sansa posed.
"That could be possible, but you might want to consider that they might not give you the support you need. You are a Stark, but I have to say that you are still unproven."
"Then why did you decide to support me? Why did you allow me to land with my Vale supporters?"
Lord Manderly took a moment to gather his words. "Because frankly, I hate the Boltons to the point where I would do anything to fight them and overthrow them. You being the last Stark out there, as far as anyone is aware of, gives me the best option available. Because you being a woman is besides the point. You came from Ned Stark's loins, and that's all that matters."
Sansa had to remind herself that even northmen would not do anything just because it was the right thing to do. Although the Boltons were the new Wardens of the North, they had botched things up so badly that anyone else would have been preferable. Her being a Stark was just convenient, but she had to do more if people were going to unite under the Stark banner once more.
"Well, we're going to have to try still. I should send ravens to Lady Mormont, Lord Hornwood, Lord Reed, Lord Flint, and whoever else has a grievance against the Boltons. I must gather a united northern army that can fight alongside my Vale supporters, for only together can we overthrow the Boltons."
"Don't forget the northern mountain clans. You're going to need them if you want an effective attack on Winterfell, for only they can handle the hardships that come with combat in the wolfswood."
"Right," Sansa nodded.
"But you're also forgetting something. What about the wildlings? We cannot just fight a war with the Boltons while also fighting with the wildlings."
Sansa clicked her tongue. "Is there no way that we can negotiate with them? You said yourself that they don't seem to want to conquer the north, and that they must be running from something. We should at least reach out to them and see if we can get a compromise."
"You're correct. I did say that. However, I never said that we should treat with them. I only mentioned them because your fight ahead, my lady, is beset with extreme difficulties. And it is unprecedented, for the North has not faced something like this. Also, we are approaching what many refer to as the most brutal winter in thousands of years, so you don't have much time to take Winterfell before your troops freeze, your supplies are exhausted, and any routes you can take are covered with snow."
Sansa had to admit that Lord Manderly's words were very refreshing. Unlike Littlefinger, the head of House Manderly was not afraid to tell her what she needed to hear, no matter how hard the truth was. And it made her all the more grateful for Lord Manderly, for besides that, he was the first to give his support.
"Then we shouldn't waste any time. How soon can you assemble your troops?"
"As all of my bannermen are here with me, I can arrange for four thousand men to begin marching within a week."
"Excellent." Sansa smiled. "That will bring the total strength that I can bear to twenty-four thousand."
"And you plan to get more men?"
"Of course. I shall send out the ravens to all potential supporters as soon as this feast is done. I have work to do."
"Very good, my lady," Lord Manderly approved. "But might I suggest that you keep your Valemen and that Littlefinger shit on a tight rope? They might support you, but they are just as likely to control you if you let them."
Sansa was back home in the North, and she was going to try to regain what she lost in her own home. "Believe me, my lord. I know very well what you talk about and I have every intention to assert myself once the time arises."
"I hope so, my lady, for your sake."
As she drunk her wine, Sansa eyed Littlefinger, who was conversing with Ser Harrold.
I'm home, Lord Baelish. Don't think that I will just submit to you like before, she thought resolutely.
Robb read the message that he was surprised to receive. After reconfirming with the messenger that the letter and its sender were genuine, he called the Meereen ruling council together and informed him of what had just happened.
"Today, I have just received a letter from someone very highly-placed among our current enemies. And this could be the thing that changes everything in our favor here," Robb announced.
"Who is it?" Tyrion asked while Ser Barristan, Missandei, Grey Worm, Daario Naharis, the northern sellsword captains, and the Yi-Tish red priestess listened closely.
Robb cleared his throat as he unfolded the letter. "It reads:
To whom it may concern,
You may not know me personally, and I have no reason to trust you. After all, for all I know, you might be plotting against my downfall whatever the circumstances. However, at this point, I believe we can help each other, for there is someone that I hate more than the others.
I am sure that you are aware that the one calling himself Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, is leading the slave masters and the tigers of Volantis against you in a joint effort to displace Daenerys Targaryen. Allow me to reveal this: the one assuming the identity of such a one precious to my heart is nothing but a wretched imposter and I am afraid of what he might do should he succeed with the help of those supporting him. I don't know how the Lysene eunuch called Varys managed it, but I know the real article from a fake and the one calling himself Aegon Targaryen is false.
However, at the moment, I don't believe my knowledge of the situation will be enough, for it won't matter if he is false or not. The imposter calling himself Aegon is a rallying focus for those who want to keep slavery in effect, and they will stop at nothing to reverse everything that Daenerys Targaryen had managed to accomplish. And I should note that you indeed face overwhelming odds and doubts about your survival in the succeeding moons are galore.
There is only so much that I can say at the moment. I also can't reveal my name, for that will complicate matters of trust between us. All you need to know is that I have an interest in taking down Varys and the imposter and that without me, you will not last.
As a token of my leap of faith on you, your enemies will not strike at you from land. You do not have the ships to repel a landing and that's what they will do. Make sure that you are prepared to withstand an attack from the sea. Keep yourself alert.
Regards,
R.
"Who is this 'R?'" Ser Barristan asked.
"It could be a falsehood, sent by the enemy to mislead us," Daario said.
"It might be genuine," the captain of the Company of the Rose stated. "Such information from the heart of the enemy camp will be useful to us."
"It's very much within Varys' capabilities to conjure up false information in order to misdirect his opponents," Tyrion found himself agreeing with Daario for once. "And since we don't who this 'R' is and that you were delivered this letter clandestinely, I'm not inclined to follow this up."
Robb sighed. He might have learned his lesson on not trusting those who readily offered their help, but learning how to discern the genuine article from the false ones was not something that he had learned to do efficiently.
"How about we check this letter against what we do know about the enemy's movements?" Ser Barristan suggested. Robb nodded and the old kingsguard looked through the map. "Even though they have the numbers to fight us, they know that they can't just directly attack us on land. Our fortifications are too strong, and they will lose many troops in an assault. And the freedmen who have joined our ranks have nothing to lose by fighting for us, since the only alternative is to become slaves once more."
"And because Robb Stark's measures on conducting a mobile defense, they will ground down if they advance in the traditional manner," the captain of the Wolf Pack added.
"If I were the enemy and given the facts in front of me," Ser Barristan said. "I would choose an assault from the sea. That's probably where our biggest disadvantage is, since the enemy could overwhelm our ships, cut off all access, and be able to storm Meereen by boat."
"But isn't that too convenient?" Daario asked. "The enemy knows this also and they might want us to prepare for an assault from the sea when their true objective would be to attack on land."
Robb hated when the choices made would lead to disadvantages. If he tried to prepare for a sea invasion, he would then need to take from the land defenses. If he tried to focus on the land defenses, they would be exposed from the sea. Just like when I fought my war was King in the North.
"Couldn't we ask for more ships from your Vhassar benefactor?" Tyrion asked Robb. "We're exposed if an attack is indeed coming from the sea."
"Jaenyra Vhassar might be influential in Volantis, but there is a limit to what she can give," Robb said. "We can't expect more from her, not at this point. But I did receive a letter from her that might be encouraging to us all."
"What letter?" Missandei asked.
Robb took out the letter that had Jaenyra's personal seal. Opening it, he cleared his throat.
"To Robb Stark,
I have heard of what you've been up to during your time in Meereen and I must admit that I am impressed at you've managed to accomplish while there.
I have some news which might encourage you while you face Maegyr's forces in the Slavers' Bay. Some disaffected members of elephant party, whose names I am not at liberty to say in case this letter is intercepted, have decided to join forces with the red temple. I am not sure as to what they agreed upon, but whatever the case, the disaffection among the ranks of the elephants has assumed a new form. There are many who might not be take such radical moves as to liberate slaves, but they dislike the tigers more and are willing to work together if it means ousting the tiger party.
Given that Maegyr chose to take his most able captains and troops with him to the Slavers' Bay, the remaining tigers are exposed. But as long as the tigers still have their strength in the field, the rest of the elephant party will remain hesitant to take action to overthrow Malaquo and his family.
It is imperative that you find some way to damage them. When that happens, the elephants will have more encouragement in finally rising up against the tigers. Discontent is brewing among even the old families of Volantis, for wars cost money and their coffers will not last them forever.
Your supporter from afar,
Jaenyra Vhassar."
Robb then passed the letter around. "The situation in Meereen is improving in our favor. Whatever might happen at this point, however the enemy tries to attack us, we all have to hold them just long enough for the elephants to gain confidence for them to finally overthrow the tigers. As I have stated before, our greatest ally is time and we just need to buy it."
"But Lord Robb, we might not have time. I might be skeptical regarding the veracity of this letter sent by 'R,' but let's assume it is true," Missandei spoke. "What can we do to ensure that we have enough time? And for what purpose do we need time, other than to wait for Queen Daenerys to finally return from gods knows where."
Before Robb could respond, the Yi-Tish red priestess made herself known. "If I may interject, I believe that the contents of this letter are more valuable than all of you might assume. And there is only one person in the enemy camp who will have such intimate knowledge of the one calling himself Aegon Targaryen."
"And who might that be?" Tyrion asked.
"From the tone of that letter, it would have to be someone who expressed her ability to identify the real Aegon Targaryen from an imposter. And if my history is correct, there could only be one other person who would have such knowledge and that is the only sibling of the real Aegon Targaryen."
Ser Barristan shook his head in denial. "No, no. I know who you speak of. And I tell you now. It's impossible."
"What's impossible?" Missandei asked.
"She's talking about Rhaenys Targaryen, elder sister of Aegon Targaryen and daughter of both Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell," Tyrion answered. "And I must share the good kingsguard's opinion on the matter. Rhaenys Targaryen is dead."
"Are you sure?" the priestess asked.
"My father was the one who arranged for their mangled bodies to be brought before Robert," Tyrion said. "And combined that with the violated remains of Elia Martell, there was no doubt on who they were."
"I also heard about the manner of their corpses," the Yi-Tish priestess stated. "But isn't it convenient for the recent takers of the Iron Throne to declare all Targaryen heirs dead while the bodies of the senior line are unrecognizable?"
"You have no proof that Rhaenys Targaryen survived," Ser Barristan frantically responded. He had fought for the Targaryens and he had lived with the knowledge that Rhaegar and the dragon brood were all extinguished. "It cannot be true."
Robb, on other hand, was not yet ready to disbelieve it despite what he had been told by his late father. "And why not? I am living proof that people can fake their deaths. Just because you heard of my death at the Twins, does that mean I am not alive right here and now?"
"Lord Stark, why would entertain such a preposterous notion?" Ser Barristan asked.
"I am not saying that I believe what this priestess said about Rhaenys Targaryen surviving, but do you have any proof besides the bodies shown after the Rebellion that states beyond doubt that she is dead?" Robb posed. Ser Barristan was quiet, but he was still in disbelief, while Robb turned back to the priestess. "Then in that case, I am not discounting the possibility of her survival. And for someone like Rhaenys to tell us this crucial piece of information might be useful to us."
"How so?" Tyrion crossed his arms.
"If she is indeed who she says she is, then she should come here and prove it. And there is only one way to prove whether or not she is being truthful."
"What do you have in mind?" Missandei asked.
"Are there not two dragons currently within these vaults?"
Tyrion shook his head. "Oh, no. We are not doing that."
"And why not? Do you have another suggestion, something that will even the odds against us? If you do, Lord Tyrion, speak now."
Tyrion, for all of his talents, had no other course of action indeed.
"Then it's settled. Any other objections?" Daario characteristically was not convinced, but he dared not voice any more objections lest Grey Wind try to take a chunk out of him. The other council members were silent, although they too were not won over completely. Robb turned to Misssandei. "My lady, is there anyone who could be trusted to infiltrate the enemy stronghold and make contact with Rhaenys?"
"There is one that I know of, but it's going to be risky."
"Understood. However, if we can verify that it's her, it's imperative that we bring her here and have her bond with the dragon. And if she's on our side, our chances of winning have gone up. This is an opportunity that we cannot afford to miss."
Once Missandei left to find her volunteer, Robb was left with the Yi-Tish priestess. "It's going to work, because what I say is the truth," she said.
"I wish I had your faith, for I don't know if I have mine still after all of this," Robb answered with some bitterness while scratching Grey Wind's head.
"Whatever gods you believe, just understand that they have a plan for us all. And while you might believe in them, they believe in you."
Robb was confused at that statement, but he was not in the mood to discuss religion. "Well, let's just hope that the gods will grant us life after all of this mess."
A/N: To sum it all up:
Joon is witnessing the empire going through the specifics of their support for both Jon and Daenerys, although nothing good can come from the quartermaster's warnings about a riot.
Mingyu killing the Prime Minister, I took cues from Apocalypse Now (great movie if you haven't watched it).
Sansa is finally about to assert herself back in the North, although her problems are only just beginning.
And my word, Robb is really becoming the man that the North will need when he does return, but will his gambit regarding Rhaenys pay off?
Hope you enjoyed it!