A/N: Hi, all. Been busy as usual. But we're almost there until the heroes finally start returning to Westeros. Just hold on.
Rhaenys was escorted to the Great Pyramid of the Meereen under heavy guard by the Unsullied, led by their leader who she found out was called Grey Worm. Her first thoughts were that he said nothing, and that meant more to her than anything else since she had enough of people who tried to please her with words. Like Varys.
People were curious as to why a black-haired woman with olive skin had this strong escort, and even more so when she arrived at the pyramid. But those thoughts were cast aside, as Rhaenys came upon what she assumed to be the council of Meereen, her supposed enemies.
Understandably, all of them were not at ease upon seeing her. However, two of them, Westerosi by the looks of them, looked at her with shock. Either they have seen me before, which would be unlikely, or they are just taken by someone exotic.
"So, you must be Rhaenys Targaryen," another man, one with auburn hair and a large grey wolf at his side while he spoke with a northern brogue. "My name is Robb Stark, son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully Stark, both of them late."
"I see," Rhaenys nodded. "It seems that both of our histories are connected, though not in the way that we would like, Robb Stark."
"Indeed." He moved onto the other members of the council of Meereen. "This is Ser Barristan Selmy, former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. This is Tyrion Lannister, son of Lord Tywin Lannister. Missandei, lady to Queen Daenerys Targaryen. You have already met Grey Worm. These are Captains Moss and Dustin, both of them leading the Company of the Rose and the Wolf Pack. This is Daario Naharis. And this is…" Robb Stark hesitated at the name of a Yi-Tish woman who obviously looked like a red priestess.
"My name is important, only my purpose," she answered.
Rhaenys eyed each of the members of the council carefully. She had heard of Ser Barristan and Tyrion Lannister, the former being a failure at protecting her birthfather and the latter the runt of the man who ordered the slaughter of her family. She did not know what to think of the sellsword captains, the woman who served her aunt, and the Yi-Tish priestess, but she knew that she was not going to appreciate the other sellsword's look at her. I might have to show him that my bite is too dangerous for him to handle.
"Well met," Rhaenys finally said. "I am not going to waste your time any more than I want you to waste mine. I overcame many obstacles to get here, so it better be worth it."
Robb was startled, as he did not expect her to be so straightforward. "Of course. Perhaps if we can take you down to the chambers where you will the dragons waiting."
"Lead the way."
Rhaenys ignored the rest of the council members, who were stunned that she did not say a single word to them. If I do not have anything to say, I will not say it at all.
In the darkness of the underground of the pyramid she was led, and she felt the rest of the council follow them as she was following Robb Stark and his grey wolf. Rhaenys simply wanted the reason that she was here to be done with and afterwards, she would decide on what she would do with the others.
As Robb Stark held out a torch and beckoned her to step forward, Rhaenys felt something in the darkness call out to her. Blinking with curiosity, she stepped forward and gasped when two snouts of creatures that she never thought to see in her life emerged from the shadows. They growled softly at her, eyeing at her with curiosity. One was green and one was creamy, but both looked at her not with aggression but as if they were seeing someone that did not see for a long time.
"What are their names?" Rhaenys had to remind themselves.
"The green one with Rhaegal. The other one is called Viserion," Robb answered.
Slowly, she stepped closer to them and held out her hand. To her surprise, both the dragons quickly put their snouts close to her hand, their growls turning into purrs. Rhaenys herself was shocked at how everything was unfolding. At the same time, many things were missing in her life and these dragons helped fill the gap. For the first time, she began to giggle at how they enjoyed her touch and her presence.
Even though she enjoyed both of the dragons, Rhaenys felt something strong with Rhaegal. She guessed that the name was derived from Rhaegar, her father, and that made Rhaenys feel at least grateful to her aunt, for a part of her father's memory was kept alive in this green dragon. I know what you are feeling, little girl, Rhaenys was startled that the dragon could speak into her thoughts. Do not fear. I shall take care of you.
I have had many people claim to "take care of me," she answered with some bitterness.
But were they dragons? And you are a dragon yourself, so it is only right that you claim me.
What about Viserion? For some reason, Rhaenys thought about who would ride the creamy-white dragon.
Her time will come. And who knows? She will be a big one when she is finally claimed. But you need one and I can feel that you coming here was an act of fate.
Slowly, Rhaenys turned her full attention to the green dragon named after her and placed her forehead on Rhaegal's neck. Sighing, she felt as if every dark thing that has plagued her life slowly disappear, as she felt herself become a full dragon like her ancestors before her.
Remembering that Robb Stark and the council were watching, Rhaenys turned her eyes to them and found them stunned. The old knight was even more so, as he was on his knees. "My gods, by the Seven. It is true. You are Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Rhaegar. Please forgive me for doubting you."
Sighing, Rhaenys patted Rhaegal once more and walked to the old knight. "I do not know you beyond your name and your accolades. There is nothing to forgive then, is there?" Ser Barristan looked up at her, and his look either gave relief that she was generous or surprise that she was callous. "Oh, for fuck's sake, get up from the ground. You are making yourself look bad."
Tyrion and Daario were quite amused, as Rhaenys heard them chuckling. "When I saw you as a little girl, Your Grace, I never thought you would be coarse in your language," the runt of the Lannisters spoke.
"Right, you have seen me before. But if I were to guess, you were too young and too small to participate in the fighting during Robert's Rebellion, right?"
"That is correct, Princess Rhaenys."
"Hmmm." She then moved on to Daario. "And what are you smirking about?"
"You just remind me of your aunt, the Queen, in some way."
Rhaenys groaned, for she knew exactly what kind of man Daario was. Chuckling humorlessly, she walked towards him as if to give him a kiss. Daario was all too eager to accept, but to everyone's surprise, she then grabbed his hand and wrist, twisted in a way that made him cringe, and then kicked his groin. She smiled as he collapsed to the ground, grasping his bruised manhood. "You talk to me like that again, I will cut your dick off and push it down your throat. That way, you will know what 'go fuck yourself' really means."
Ignoring everyone being impressed and being surprised that at how deadly she was being, Rhaenys walked right back up to the main hall of the pyramid. Once she saw all of the council, save for Daario, had followed her, she again wasted no time. "All right. You have your proof of who I am. What now?" Robb Stark turned around and whispered to the council, but Rhaenys put a stop to that instantly. "Whatever you have to discuss, you can do it openly with me."
"I just told the council that I must speak with you alone, just to save time," Robb Stark stated.
Not complaining and seeing that Robb Stark did not waste time with useless frivolities, Rhaenys nodded her assent. After seeing the rest of the council disperse, with Ser Barristan sparing one last look, she was alone with Robb Stark and his grey wolf.
"Who is your creature?" Rhaenys asked.
"Grey Wind, and he is a direwolf."
"I see." Rhaenys knew that direwolves existed at some point, but it was another thing to actually see them. "He seems friendly enough."
"Because he knows that you are not a threat."
"How can you be sure of that?"
Robb Stark swallowed. "Because we have common cause."
"And you think that because of that, I will not kill you?" Robb was still while Grey Wind sensed his companion's nervousness. "Do not worry. I will not kill you, Lord Stark. But I do wonder if you had learned anything from your time, because I do have some familiarity of what you have been through due to Varys."
Varys kept her informed of everything that went on during the War of the Five Kings, including the Red Wedding. Good thing I actually paid attention to his missives.
"What do you mean by that?" Robb asked.
"Your problem is that you trusted Walder Frey in the first place. You should have gotten into a situation where he had power over you, especially a slippery man like that."
Robb was startled that she knew that. "Are you saying that I should have stuck to my duty and married his daughter?"
Rhaenys shook her head. "It looks like you have not learned something at all. He would have ve still slit your throat as he did your mother, from what I had heard. The only difference being that he would have done it after he knew your child was in his daughter's belly in order to have one of his own potentially in control of Winterfell. Men like that, they do not honor anything. I have seen more than my share."
Robb Stark narrowed his eyes. "So, are you saying I didn't make a mistake?"
"Oh, you did, making your wife the first infatuation you ever had. Someone who was not a proper Queen and one the both of you would eventually grow tired of each other." Rhaenys had heard of Talisa Maegyr from what Malaquo Maegyr had told in passing and she was not impressed.
"That's not true," Robb Stark tried to deny and she saw that his anger rise.
"You have no need to get angry, for I have seen it more times than you can count." Rhaenys was temporarily brought back to when she witnessed man's depravity in the pleasure houses of Lys. "And men can't control where their dicks point to, no matter how hard they try," she shrugged, much to Robb's surprise as the last princess from Rhaegar's line was blunter than he had ever expected.
Robb quickly recovered from Rhaenys' merciless attack. "So, who would you have advised I marry then? Or now? You?"
Rhaenys scoffed. "Oh, Lord Stark, I do not think you could handle a girl like me. No, you should have married someone with actual power and resources, and one that you found attractive enough to keep happy."
"Would not want her to end up like Cersei Lannister, I suppose," Rhaenys heard Robb whisper. "So, what about you, Princess? You are one of the only survivors of your family. Any man... or woman..." She was not surprised that Robb asked that, for she had heard of the free-loving nature of her Dornish relatives. "That could catch the eye or has caught the eye of Princess Rhaenys?"
Rhaenys would stiffen. It was much too personal, especially given her only experiences with sexual relationships are from the pleasure house or schemes by Varys to marry her to the imposter.
"I will never marry," Rhaenys would declare with a growl. "And I will not be ruled by any man now. If we are to work together, you best understand that fact."
"You have a dragon, Princess. I will be forfeiting my life if I mistreated you."
Finally, a man with sense. "Good. Now, how about we start with how we can defeat the tigers and the slave masters? With me riding a dragon, your task should be much easier."
Besides piercing her enemies with her spear and slicing them with her scimitar, Rhaenys grinned at the thought of burning her enemies like her ancestors of old. So glorious… the fire…
Varys found himself at the receiving end of the anger from "Aegon," especially since he was being blamed for her disappearance. I had her followed and the harpies should have been enough to bring her back. It appears that her teachers trained her too well in the art of combat.
Aegon was smashing a vase before he moved to turn over a table in the manse, all the while he was screaming and breaking things with an axe. Varys was forced to watch the whole ordeal unfold. "Your Grace, please calm down—"
"Calm down, you say? CALM DOWN?!" the imposter screamed before he continued swinging the axe.
Varys had never been more intimidated by the imposter, for this was a side to his personality that he had not seen earlier. No. It was always in him. After all, he does descend from the dragons, just not through the legitimate line.
It was a secret that Varys swore to take to his grave, or until the time was right. Varys did not know of his origins until he met Serra, the second wife of his friend Illyrio. There was something about her that intrigued Varys, causing him to make inquiries on where she was from. Before her unfortunate death from the grey plague, she told him something that he would never forget:
"My son, Illyrio's son, Varys, he is your nephew," she whispered.
"What are you talking about? I don't have a sister," Varys said as he was struck by what she was saying.
"You think you do not, but I asked some questions about where you come from truly. We were separated before we got to know each other, and for good reason."
"What are you trying to say to me?"
"We share the same blood, you and I. We descend from the dragons, from Daemon Blackfyre."
"Impossible." Varys knew of the Blackfyres, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that he was related to that bastard line of the dragons.
"It is the truth, but a truth that people would have killed us for. After our relative Maelys was killed, the Targaryens wanted everyone related to the Blackfyres to be hunted down and killed. They judged that five Blackfyre uprisings were enough and did not need a sixth, so they had their agents find any living descendants and kill them. The both of us are the only ones left." She coughed.
"Please, Serra. Rest."
"I cannot rest, not while the future is at stake. I want you to promise me something, Varys."
"Anything." Varys was still skeptical that he and Serra were related, but he was not going to deny the wishes of someone near death, particularly someone dear to his friend Illyrio.
"We both suffered much at the hands of others," Serra's voice became even softer. "But we are both of the same blood and are descended from Aegon the Conqueror himself. We can no longer claim the future for ourselves, but my son can. I will not let him languish here in Pentos, even though I know Illyrio will take good care of him. Restart the cause of the Blackfyres."
Varys knew that she was asking much of him. "How?"
"You helped Illyrio get control of Pentos. I am sure that you will find a way. Make sure that he is raised to take the helm of the Blackfyres once more, and when the time comes, help him succeed where our ancestors have failed. Help him become king and have everything that was denied to us. We grew up nothing, but get my son to have all that he can ask for and more."
Varys swallowed but he nodded. "I shall see your wishes done, Serra."
"Will you?" Serra looked at him hard, conjuring up her failing strength. "We both know what it is like to be powerless, so make sure that my son, your nephew, will get all the power that one can get. No more shall our bloodline languish in the shadows. No more."
Varys closed his eyes, solemnly preparing himself to fulfill Serra's wishes. "No more," he repeated.
Only after Serra died did Varys allow himself to be sorrowful for the sister who he never knew had existed until that day. Varys' actions from the day he became the master of whisperers for the Mad King to now was to fulfill her dying wish, which was to see her son, the last champion for the Blackfyre line, the line that he now belonged to, become king of Westeros. But of course, he could not tell his nephew that he was not a Targaryen and because of that, he could not calm down the man who was acting with the uncontrolled fire of his ancestors.
"What do you have to have to say for yourself, Lord Varys?" His nephew was breathing heavily as he finished breaking the table with the axe.
"Your Grace." Varys knew that he had to take this carefully. "I am very sorry that I had failed you. I am sorry that I had failed to keep your sister under control and have been lax in my duties. I am sorry for all of this, and I deserve your anger."
His nephew threw the axe on the ground and scoffed. "You know, we go back a long way, you and me. And it is because of that I will not punish you."
Varys breathed out in relief. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"However, consider yourself removed from my good graces for the time being. I believe that it is time that I surround myself with more able council, with those who emphasize action and have a proven history of doing it well." His nephew was merciless in his criticism.
"Your Grace, I have served you well—"
"You will still remain by my side, but do not expect me to talk to you or seek advice on certain topics such as the war for now. I shall rely on Malaquo for that."
Varys shook his head. "Your Grace—"
"That is all I have to say on that matter. You are my servant and therefore, you will do as I command when I say to assemble tigers and the slave masters right now as we move on to attack Meereen and complete the conquest of Slaver's Bay once and for all."
Varys realized that there was no way that he was going to get through to his nephew for now. "As you command, Your Grace." He nodded and sent messengers to inform Maegyr and the slave masters as well as Captain Strickland of the Golden Company.
Later, Varys got together the Volantene tigers under Maegyr and the Captain of the Golden Company. Ever since Malaquo Maegyr arrived, Varys began to sense that his influence over "Aegon" was slowly diminishing. The old man was understandably impatient with talk, but he was also nervous that the head of the tiger party of Volantis was seeking to control his nephew at his expense. That was something that he could not afford to happen, but how Malaquo was talking began to have an effect on his nephew to the point where he was apprehensive of approaching the leader of the tiger party, even though they did contribute the most troops and ships at the moment.
"I believe it is time to just attack Meereen." Malaquo spoke with the habitual tiredness that characterized old men who were simply looking to be done with certain problems. "I am tired of all of this waiting around. We have the numbers and we have the ships and we have the means."
"I concur," Captain Strickland nodded his hand. "We have wasted enough time with waiting. We now must attack."
"But what about Rhaenys Targaryen?" The slave masters had heard of her escape and were rightly concerned about where she was. "That leaves one with dragonblood unaccounted for and we have to ensure that the threat she poses on her own will not be detrimental to our interests."
"Indeed," another one of them said. "She has a claim on the Iron Throne, and she might be working alongside with our enemies in Meereen already. We must act now."
"Perhaps we are being hasty—" Varys tried to speak.
"No more words from the eunuch," Malaquo spat. "Your words have set us back considerably and I for one want to hear no more of what he was to say."
Varys looked to Captain Strickland for support, but he was silent, knowing that he could not afford to antagonize the leader of the tiger party. After all that I have done for you.
"Let us just charge at Meereen and take the city. If we lose fifty thousand men, we can still win, for they are vastly outnumbered. No more of this waiting," Malaquo urged, getting cheers from the slave masters.
"Then it is decided," his nephew nodded. "We shall march in two weeks and take Meereen."
Varys' eyes widened, but he was wise as to not say anything lest his bond with his nephew become more strained. Oh no.
"You have done us a great disservice to us all, Lord Varys, by allowing Rhaenys Targaryen to escape," Malaquo bit. "Therefore, it is time we revisit the issue of Aegon Targaryen's wife. I believe that a marriage with him to one of my nieces would be advantageous."
His nephew smiled and looked at Varys, whose face became white with shock. "I agree. And I shall marry your niece. That is a promise."
"Once Slaver's Bay is yours, I shall send for her. You will not regret it."
Once Malaquo and the slaver masters, alongside Captain Strickland left to muster and prepare their forces, Varys finally decided to not be silent any longer. "Your Grace, why did you do that? Marrying into that family will get you nothing once you return to Westeros."
"And your first consideration regarding that I marry Rhaenys, my sister, was not a good one either. Look at how she ran at the first chance she got," his nephew said. "We are Targaryens, sure, but she was never going to take to me. I for one began to feel that the bonds that we shared as siblings had grown weaker and she began to hate me. Why would I want to marry someone who will very likely slit my throat the moment I try to bed her?"
You are not her brother, but you do not know that. "Many marriages were started by mutual hatred, but affection and love did result in some of them," Varys tried to reason with Aegon. "And Jaehaerys and Alysanne Targaryen were siblings who married for love."
"Well, I am not the Conciliator and my sister is not the Good Queen," his nephew countered. "I will make my own choices, since your advice was not enough to prevent us from getting into a larger mess."
"That was not my fault," Varys defended himself.
"And whose fault is it? You failed to keep Rhaenys under control and now, I am stuck with having to bind myself with the tigers. And it could be a good match, since the Volantenes will march with me all the way to the Red Keep and the Iron Throne."
Varys had to fight back a groan. Are you that short-sighted? Have you learned nothing from the lessons that you were given? "The Volantenes are using you, just you are using them. Once they get what they want, who is to say that they will not betray at the first moment that they have?"
"Once we take control of Slaver's Bay and I am on my way to King's Landing, none of that will matter."
"But if you manage to get that far," Varys continued. "You will need to marry a Westerosi lady. The people there will never tolerate a foreigner as a queen. Just ask Viserys the Second of his Name."
"And he is dead for many decades now, so your point is moot," his nephew responded. "And now, I feel that my patience with you is at an end for today. I shall see you when I break my fast." With that, Aegon left to retire to his rooms.
Varys was left alone, unbelieving at how things were turning south so quickly. Serra, if you are listening, what do I do?
Benjen sat uncomfortably as the guests, including Lord Buko, finally entered the main room of the war ministry. Having Lord Buko attend was important, as without his presence, the plan would not succeed and there could be open warfare between the various factions that were growing within the army. Before tonight, soldiers' blood will spill in the streets. All I have to do is do nothing, even though my instincts will make me respond to the violence that will come.
Everyone knew that Lord Buko had to be dealt with, as he was the figurehead of the radical faction of the army. However, they had to eliminate him from the scene while they could control his followers because if they botch it, his followers will rise up in revolt and there would be strife amongst the army. They could not afford that, not while the situation within the empire was still so fragile.
So, a plan was made in which Minister Zong invited Lord Buko and his top officers to a feast in which they would celebrate "a return to stability." The Princess Regent Khiara had Minister Zong say that they would be willing to seriously consider Lord Buko's initiatives regarding the reformation of the government along his lines. They already implemented a reorganization of provincial administration according to his recommendations and announced that they were willing to take another step by allowing the provosts to have independent judicial powers, in which crimes done against troops and military property would be dealt with by army judges instead of magistrates. In addition, they would agree to a period of military rule for seven years, in which the army would administer all local affairs in the northern affairs and areas of the southern provinces not near the ocean.
Most important, the Princess Regent had Minister Zong say to Lord Buko that a larger portion of the imperial treasury would go towards the army and naval leadership, and consequently, Lord Buko should expect an increase in his annual pay. Thus, it was no wonder that Lord Buko and his top officers had accepted the invitation to dinner. Thank the gods that Princess Khiara is not actually being serious about giving all of that to Lord Buko.
All that Benjen, Prince Joon, and Minister Zong had to do was to keep Lord Buko and his officers occupied with good drink, good food, and female company while the troops from the northern provinces, the marines under Admiral Okamoto, Jon, and the Jade Order moved quickly through Yin and disarmed the troops who would be loyal to Lord Buko and his cause. If they resisted, they would be killed. Mingyu, Mingyu, you are putting yourself at great risk for doing this.
Benjen remembered when Mingyu brought the head of the Prime Minister to court as well as the scared form that was Prince Sumeng. Khiara remembered who Mingyu was and said, "You are either very courageous or very stupid for coming here, meaning that you must have a good reason to being present when there is a sizable bounty on your head."
"Is it not enough that I have brought your brother the Crown Prince and the head of the Prime Minister to your presence?" Mingyu asked with indignance.
"You and your ilk have done me a great service. At the same time, you are a deserter of the Jade Order and have committed numerous crimes while you were on the run," Khiara pointed out. "It would not do if I was to let you go without punishing you."
Mingyu narrowed her eyes at the Princess. "Your Highness, are you going to execute me?"
Thankfully, it was a quite court, for all except Khiara, Mingyu, and Benjen himself were present. Benjen was present because of his prior intimacy with Mingyu. How did she know that?
"No. I believe that if you want to be accepted back into the Jade Order and receive a full pardon, you will have to do something else for me," Khiara said.
"You should know that the charges of sedition against me are false, Your Highness."
"But does that make the other crimes you committed disappear right away?" Khiara pointed out. "If I was to welcome you with open arms, I will invite dissent from the Jade Order, because it will not look good on my part to pardon you after you did this deed. But worry not, for you will get your pardon if you complete a task for me."
"What task, Your Highness?" Mingyu asked with apprehension.
"Know you Lord Buko?" Khiara came to her point.
"I have heard of him in passing, Your Highness. I do not know him personally."
"Then you know of his political stances, what he wishes for regarding the progression of this empire."
"Nonsense. Just utter nonsense." Mingyu shook her head disapprovingly.
"Good. Then you must know that he must be removed before he can be in a position to really implement his ideas."
"Why do you think I care about what he does or think?"
Khiara held up a tied-up scroll. "In my hand is your pardon, which also serves as your exoneration for the charge of sedition against you. If you do what I ask, which will serve the purpose of removing Lord Buko as a threat, then this scroll will go into effect. You can resume your old life and you will no longer have to keep your head down."
"What about the other members of my shinobi clan?"
Khiara also expected her to ask that and held up another scroll. "This scroll represents the grants of land and silver taels that will be given to them for their services, but only after they commit one more act of service onto me. This scroll will also pardon them for their crimes, and they shall live new lives as respectable citizens of the empire. After all, I will need those in good positions in society to do the killing for me when I call for them."
Benjen swallowed. "Your Highness, what will you have them do?" He might still feel distrustful of Mingyu, but he did not want her to be in a risky position also.
"I will not have her be part of the tasks that I will assign to your niece and the rest of the Jade Order. On the other hand, her… connections to the underworld might do me a good service."
Benjen did not like the sound of that, but he kept his mouth shut since he was not in a position to argue.
As his mind went back to the feast, Lord Buko and his top officers, which included several commanders from the ranks of brigade captain to company lieutenant. What made Lord Buko dangerous was that he focused his attention on junior officers more, as he knew that they would soon obtain senior positions in the army and thus be in a place where they could make his ideas come alive. But all of them were now drunk and being distracted by the female company that Khiara had hired.
Benjen, Joon, and Minister Zong looked at each other. By this point, they had to assume that the troops under their command had either managed to disarm Lord Buko's forces or kill those who resisted. Once that was done, a force of northern soldiers would come to the War Ministry and arrest everyone currently feasting.
Joon took the initiative and stood up. "Good men of the army, may I have your attention?" After Lord Buko and the others looked at him, he raised his cup of arakju. "I would like to propose a toast, as we return to stability within the empire. All of us had fought the usurpers and we have prevailed."
"Hear, hear," Lord Buko banged his fist on the table repeatedly, as did the rest of the officers in their drunkenness.
Benjen nodded to Joon, gesturing for him to continue talking while their force of northern soldiers were arriving. "We have difficult work to do in this empire," Joon continued to talk. "We are bringing order to parts of this great country that remain dangerous. We are pursuing and finding leaders of the old regime, who will be held to account for their crimes. We have begun the search for hidden rebels and already know of hundreds of areas that are harboring them will be investigated and held into account. We are helping to rebuild this empire, where the previous emperor did not do much in the ways of ruling and has thus allowed men of evil intentions to take over and attempt to subvert the phoenix throne. And we will stand with the new leaders of this empire, including the Princess Regent, as everyone together will establish a government of, by, and for the security of the Golden Empire."
"As it should be, Prince Joon," one of the officers nodded with a wide smile.
Minister Zong nodded at Prince Joon to continue talking. "Our mission continues." Benjen could see that while Joon turned out to be a great orator, he was not very good at making things up on the spot and he was starting to struggle. "The faction that has followed the Shu family has been crushed, but we must remain vigilant. The scattered remnants of that family's network still operate in many areas throughout the provinces, and we know from daily intelligence that they continue to plot against the people who want to strengthen this empire. The proliferation of evil intents and corruption both remain a serious danger, as we have seen what happens when the emperor and officials turn a blind eye to both. The enemies against the integrity of this empire are not idle, and neither should we. Our government must continue to take unprecedented measures to defend ourselves and the good people of this empire. And we will continue to hunt down the enemy before he can strike."
"Very good. And your words alone are a cause for celebration, for we are vindicated in our thinking that you are indeed right man for the job," Lord Buko raised his cup.
Upon hearing foots shuffling outside of the screen doors, Benjen knew that the northern soldiers had come. Minister Zong stood up. "But you are wrong in one sense. That empire that will be built and safeguarded, you will not be a part of it. All of you."
That alerted Lord Buko and the other officers, who looked at the War Minister with unease. "What do you mean by that?"
"I do hope that you have enjoyed your positions of power, for this is how far you will go," Minister Zong said.
"What is he saying?" one of the officers exclaimed.
But to their shock, instead of soldiers entering, they found men in black masks holding swords, clubs, and bows and arrows. Without saying a word, the intruders charged into the room and began to kill everyone within reach. Not even the female company was going to be spared, for the intruders ran them through while the officers stood no chance in their drunken state.
However, the intruders charged at Prince Joon, Minister Zong, and Benjen themselves. Not sparing another thought contemplating what was happening, Benjen responded by throwing plates and teacups at them, as did Prince Joon. They had left their weapons outside of the room and they thus had to run.
The three men grabbed a table together and turned it over, pushing back a few of the intruders while they had to smash their way into the next room by going through the screen walls. All of the officers who were in the next room filling out papers were shocked at what they were saying, as well as seeing cutthroats killing everyone.
"Run! Get out of the ministry!" Minister Zong shouted. Just as they were able to move into the next room, Benjen would have been pierced with a knife thrown at his back if it were not for an officer who happened to be in the way.
Eventually, they were able to get out of the war minister without further trouble, but the three men were shocked. "What just happened?" Benjen asked.
"It is probably the Princess," Joon shook his head. "I should have known."
"Well, at least Lord Buko is dealt with," the war minister noted.
"But who was that? Who were those men?" Those were questions that Benjen would ask Mingyu, for she was the only who would have answers. If she knew that those men were going to kill us, me included, she will have to answer to the old gods.
Ser Gyles Grafton led the force of one thousand men from Gulltown towards what they assumed would be the place where the White Knife converged with the other river running from the wolfswood into the river that ultimately led to White Harbor. The orders of the Gulltown men were to establish a route from which the other men of the Vale and those who would side with Sansa Stark could assembled before moving onto Castle Cerwyn. If they would move towards and secure Castle Cerwyn without a fight, the route to Winterfell would be open.
Why could we not have taken the kingsroad to Winterfell? Like many of the Gulltown men under his charge, they believed that the sensible way to Winterfell was by taking the kingsroad, the only visible route from Moat Cailin to the seat of the Starks, which was now controlled by the Boltons. However, Lord Manderly cautioned against taking the kingsroad, as their enemies would expect them to use that road and would very much be prepared for any advance up there. The only available way now was to use the banks of the White Knife to Winterfell, which was predictable enough and straightforward.
Besides the one thousand men Ser Gyles had under his command, the Manderlys lent boats that carried their supplies and other baggage along the White Knife. It was certainly preferable to transporting all of their baggage train on land, but they were also rowing against the current and this slowed down their progress. Given where they were and the type of adversaries that they were facing, even Ser Gyles knew that they could not afford to linger. One hundred thousand wildlings and at least thousands of bannermen sworn to the Boltons… the Seven must hate me for putting me in this situation.
Ser Gyles was not a true believer in the cause for Sansa Stark as outlined by Petyr Baelish, the Lord Protector of the Vale. However, given that he was the youngest son of his lordly father and unlikely to inherit anything, this was his chance for glory and to prove that he indeed deserved his spurs. That, and Lord Baelish said that any man willing to take up arms for Sansa Stark and Harrold Hardyng, or the Ass as everyone called him behind his back, would be eligible for five hundred acres of land. Better than nothing.
Once they saw dusk approaching, Ser Gyles nodded to his herald, who blew his horn and signaling the men and the boats to stop and set up camp for the night. Dismounting his horse, Ser Gyles watched as the men set up his tent and the cooks prepared the meals.
Also accompanying Ser Gyles was Ser Lymond Lynderly, who was of distant relation to the main line of House Lynderly. Although he was the oldest of the two, it was Gulltown men that made up the force and so, he had to concede command to Ser Gyles. The both of them looked at the available maps of the north that they had procured from White Harbor, which were not in the best condition and were devoid of enemy markers since they had no idea where exactly the enemies were and how many they were facing exactly.
"It appears that our scouts have not been forthcoming," Ser Lymond stated. "We have little information on the enemy's movements, and we have no idea how many we might be facing. One thousand men will not be sufficient if we are to face an actual army."
"And we are not on home ground. Our enemies know this land well," Ser Gyles added. "We are moving too slow and that allows them to have an idea of where we might strike."
"And that is not the worst part, good ser." Ser Lymond pointed on the map, both at the lands near Hornwood and at Castle Cerwyn. "Our latest information places the wildlings about to strike at the Broken Branch, which is what they need to finally move on Ramsgate and effectively making another step towards the subjugation of the north."
"We do not know if they want to subjugate the north," Ser Gyles pointed out. "They could be going away and not have a coherent strategy."
"Either way, we have to remain vigilant," Ser Lymond answered. "We do not know what we could be facing. After first light hits, we have to keep moving."
"I agree," Ser Gyles nodded.
As they both move outside, they see the men of the Vale trying to take comfort as best as they could in the freezing desolation of the north. It was one thing to be fighting against the enemy, but another in the vast emptiness that was the north. Ser Lymond made sure to post watches during the night, which should alert the camp of any enemy approaches.
However, they both saw one of the guards walk back from the end of his watch. That was when they saw an arrow fly through the air from behind that man. With a sound resembling a thud, the arrow pierced him in the back of the neck, erupting out the front of his throat.
Both Ser Gyles and Ser Lymond stood there, frozen and confused. The man reached up and grabbed the bloody arrow before he finally dropped to his knees. And that was when Ser Lymond and Ser Gyles saw the man closely on his knees, holding that arrow, his mouth open like a dying fish. It was a sickening sight for the youngest son of Lord Grafton.
And behind the man who died came a rush of men in the dress of wildling warriors charging through the trees, their faces painted for battle while their bodies were adorned with bones and all sorts of ungodly materials. "Ree!" they screeched.
Another arrow flew into another man's chest, sending him flying backward. The camp descended into chaos, as men were yelling, grabbing for weapons, and stumbling over each other
as they tried to take cover behind trees and their tents.
Ser Gyles drew his sword, as did Ser Lymond, and both took a nervous stance at the attacking figures. The wildling leaders, animal bones braided into his fur clothes, necklaces of human ears around their necks, lead the wildling attackers as they begin pouring into camp, arrows flying, knives and hatchets swinging.
It did not take long for this attack to become a massacre. The wildlings waded through the men and knights of the Vale, stabbing, clubbing, and even mutilating. This once calm area along the White Knife quickly became filled with a sickening mix of war cries and screams of death.
Horses and mules break loose of their ties and took off in all directions. Ser Gyles finds a crossbow, takes a position up from behind a rotting log, aims for his mark with the crossbow, and then releases a bolt, taking down one of the wildling warriors. He starts to place another crossbow bolt as another warrior charges him, with that one drawing back his knife.
Ser Gyles pulls back on the string, but he knows that he is not going to make it in time. The warrior leaps toward him, but before he can kill the young knight, Ser Lymond found a large axe and swung it at him. It was like the warrior had hit an invisible wall as he flew back to the ground, very dead. Ser Gyles nodded his thanks at Ser Lymond.
"Fall back! Fall back!" Ser Lymond began to yell commands.
Ser Gyles takes off. Dropping his crossbow, he turns around, and swings his sword like a club across a wildling's head, cutting it off. He swung again, taking out another warrior.
Meanwhile, Ser Lymond buried his knife into a wildling's belly. "Move! Move!"
A knight shoved a wildling toward the water. An arrow drives into his leg. He goes down. Ser Gyles lifted him, but several more arrows bury in the man's back and he falls dead.
Two more Valemen from Gulltown join Ser Lymond as he splashed into the river, fighting back an attacking wildling with their axes and maces.
A wildling leaps from the shadows and manages to tackle Ser Gyles to the shallows, pinning him underwater and raising his axe high to bring down on his head, just as Ser Lymond dives into him, knocking the wildling off of him. Ser Lymond and the wildling wrestle in the surf, until Ser Lymond finally overpowers him, stabs his knife deep into the wildling's stomach.
Bridger kneels in the shallows, frozen in shock.
"GO!" Ser Lymond emphasized once more.
Ser Lymond drags Ser Gyles to his feet and they both swim toward the boat. Arrows hiss into the water all around them. Ser Lymond finds a spear, throws it at one of them, and manages to pierce one and throw him back as they begin to withdraw southwards.
A final Valeman from Gulltown charges down the shore after them. Several wildlings pursue him. "WAIT! STOP!" He tries to put up a fight, but an axe buries in his back. He crashes face
first into the shallows.
One of the leaders straddles the dying man, grabs him by the hair, and cuts off his left ear before he then holds it up to Ser Lymond and the others, as he screams his war cry.
Ser Lymond and the men continue running along the banks of the White Knight. Arrows dart past them. But no matter how far they can go, the wildlings are everywhere.
Eventually, Ser Gyles trips and Ser Lymond had his head hit by an arrow to the back of the head.
Before Ser Gyles can get up, he is shoved back into the river by a wildling. He could only see the face of that wildling, who strangely looked like a northerner and seemed to enjoy drowning him. He tried to fight back, but the water was too deep and his strength exhausted. But the last thing he saw before the darkness engulfed him was that man taking his knife and begin to peel the skin from his arm. He thankfully felt his life end before the pain hit him.
A/N: Rhaenys bonded with Rhaegal, which I thought was fitting, and it was satisfying writing that scene where Rhaenys showed Daario who is boss.
For Varys' background, I felt it was only logical that he is a Blackfyre, since him being an orphan would definitely point to why he was abandoned in the first place. And he is also connected to Serra in that they were siblings at birth, with Faegon being a Blackfyre. Hope that made sense.
As for the purge of the army radicals, it was only logical that Khiara ran a side mission where all of them would get killed in brutal fashion.
And thus, we see the Valemen clash with wildlings, or are they? Left you a clue on who that man was at the end.
Till next time.