Last week's chapter was brutal, and the fall out of that moment is explored straight away here! I was really pleased with the reaction to Tommen's death so thank you all for that. We're now in the last quarter of this story and things are going to keep ramping up as enter Season 7 territory, and we will get to my version of Dany's invasion and the White Walker invasion…
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I own nothing but any OC's involved, everyone else and everything else is the property of either HBO or George R R Martin.
306 AC
Dawn wasn't even close to breaking when Cersei's bedroom door opened and her handmaiden walked into the room. The former Queen's initial thoughts were that of sadness, the warm body next to her quietly snoring was a sight that nobody could live to tell the tale of for long and she liked the girl. Sitting up, Cersei let the girl come over and whisper into her ear, the servant not showing any hint of shock or surprise at Ser Osney in her bed.
"Your Grace." The girl whispered. "You're needed in the Throne Room."
Cersei groaned. "Can it not wait?"
The girl simply shook her head and a resigned Cersei got out of bed and allowed the handmaiden to get her dressed for the last time. Barely 20 minutes after being woken up the Queen Mother was walking up to the closed doors of the Throne Room, the large oak doors being guarded by two of the Kingsguard. "Your Grace, Ser Jaime is inside."
"What does he want?" Cersei asked grumpily, but the Kingsguard knights looked between themselves nervously and just opened one of the doors slightly. Huffing, Cersei squeezed through the door into the cold and empty Throne Room, Ser Jaime's white cloak the only thing she could see in front of her. "Jaime, what is this?" She asked impatiently, her quick footsteps echoing throughout the room. As she got closer, she noticed that Jaime still wasn't moving. "Jaime?"
"I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely, so quietly that Cersei barely heard him. Jaime turned around on the spot. "When he didn't come back to his bed, we went looking for him…"
Cersei's heart skipped a beat, and she felt a well of anguish deep in her stomach. Jaime didn't have to move for her to understand, but he stepped to one side and Cersei saw her last boy hunched over his arm impaled on the Iron Throne, blood stains on the side of the steel chair.
It took her a moment to ensure she was composed enough to speak, and the Lannister woman gulped down a few sobs. She took a deep breath and took a step up to the Iron Throne, and then another and then another. After a couple more she was there, kneeling before her son. She reached out to his left hand and it was so cold that she immediately dropped it again.
"Murder." She whispered. "More Murder."
"No, Cersei." Jaime whispered soothingly. "No, this was Tommen."
"It was the Dornish." She knew it in her head. "They used my own plan against me." She wheeled around to Jaime. "They want us all dead, Jaime, and then they will put Myrcella on the Throne to twist her as they see fit, don't you see?"
"No." Jaime said again.
Cersei scoffed. "How can you not see it. She has been on their side from the very beginning. I knew we shouldn't have sent her to Dorne but Father did so anyway and now they've warped her mind into their puppet."
Jaime shook his head. "I know this is a shock…"
"My head is as clear as it has ever been." Cersei snapped angrily. "This is a plot, a murder. Another one here within the capital." She frantically looked around to make sure that the twins were alone. "Find Myrcella, Jaime. Find our last baby and bring her to me. She won't be used against us any longer."
"Cersei stop this." Jaime said more firmly. "This is the shock talking."
"Do it!" Cersei snapped. "Or I will find somebody else to listen to me."
Jaime sighed in resignation and nodded the once. "I will bring her to your chambers." He said solemnly. "Make sure Kettleblack is gone."
Cersei actually was shocked at that statement, but she didn't have a chance to react as Jaime swirled away and his heavy footsteps grew quieter as he walked away from her. Once the door closed once more Cersei turned back to her son, so peaceful in his chair. "I will make sure you are avenged my love." She whispered. "Those monsters won't get away with it again, I swear it."
It was the light from the door opening that caused Myrcella to fall out of her slumber, but it was the heavy footsteps of an armoured man that caused her to jolt upright in terror. Thankfully, she immediately noticed the shoulder length blonde hair of Jaime, but she frowned at him and another young man shoving her things in a leather bag. "Uncle?" She asked groggily.
"Get up. Get dressed." He said hurriedly. "We haven't the time."
"What's going on?" She asked.
Jaime sighed and wiped his eyes, before he handed the bag to the younger man and made his way over to her, kneeling before the bed. "I'm sorry, Myrcella. Tommen is dead."
Myrcella choked out a sob as her hand flew to her mouth. "How?" She asked shakily.
"He did it himself." Jaime answered soothingly. "But your Mother is blaming Dorne and you along with it, so we need to go before she does something stupid in her grief." Myrcella felt a world of emotions all at once, but after the initial shock of hearing about Tommen she nodded, determined to steel herself for the next hour or so in order to get to safety. Myrcella immediately leapt out of bed and wrapped her riding cloak around her before sticking her feet in the most comfortable boots she could find. "Podrick." Jaime called, and the younger boy nodded, carrying the bag with extra clothes and things.
"I'm ready, Ser." Pod nodded, and Jaime stuck his arm around Myrcella as he raised her hood up above her head and guided her quickly out of the door, with Myrcella's loyal protector Ser Arys following. They walked quickly through Maegor's Holdfast, avoiding the waking residents of the castle that were going about their duties, and Jaime began escorting the group towards a servant's entrance, where they were met by Sandor Clegane and Ser Burton Crakehall, all out of their Kingsguard armour and in dull steel.
"Blount and Greenfield are with the Queen Mother." Crakehall explained. "Hightower is still with the Queen. The horses are ready."
Jaime swore, but nodded. "Then this is what we are left with." He turned to Myrcella and got to one knee. "As Lord Commander of your Queensguard, I hereby swear my sword to you, Your Grace. I shall protect you with my life if needs be." The rest of the order in the corridor followed suit, swearing their swords to Myrcella.
"Uncle…" Myrcella whispered, but after a moment she nodded. "Rise, Sers. Thank you for your loyalty."
"Halt!" A loud voice sounded further into the Holdfast, and Jaime, Ser Arys, the Hound and Ser Burton all formed a protective wall in front of Myrcella. The girl could barely see past the large bodies, but she did notice the golden armour of a couple of Kingsguard knights being led by her Mother's new friend. "By order of Queen Cersei, you will stand down."
"Ser Arys, Podrick. Take the Queen and go." Jaime said calmly, as he unsheathed Pride, the Valyrian Steel sword that was meant to be Tyland's youngest son's.
"Ser Jaime, this is treason." Ser Osney warned.
"No, Ser Osney. What you are doing is treason." Ser Jaime said calmly once more. "Ser Arys."
"Come, little one." Ser Arys whispered soothingly, pulling at Myrcella's arm. Myrcella initially tried to pull back, but as the Hound and Ser Burton both pulled their swords out too she let Ser Arys take her away. She heard the faint sounds of swords clashing as they burst through a door to the servants courtyard, half a dozen horses all saddled and ready. Myrcella found her mare immediately and allowed Ser Arys to help her up, and she made her mount turn and face the door. "Your Grace, we need to leave."
"Not until my Uncle is with us, Ser." Myrcella said firmly.
Thankfully, she wasn't waiting for long as the Hound and Jaime Lannister both came running through the door with blood splatter on their armour. They both didn't hesitate and mounted up quickly. "Come on!" Jaime urged her.
"Ser Burton?" Myrcella asked.
"He fell. As did the others." The Hound said gruffly. "But we need to fucking move."
Myrcella agreed, and she turned her horse back around and followed Podrick and Ser Jaime as they raced out of the Red Keep, through the city heading northwards until they passed through the Dragon Gate. They kept riding up the King's Road at a gallop until they were on the borders of Hayford lands, at which point Jaime slowed them down and directed them westwards through some fields. They paused for a moment, and as Podrick rustled around his many bags for some food Jaime walked his horse beside Myrcella's.
"There's barely any time to explain." He told her. "We need to get as far away from King's Landing as possible. Your Mother…"
"She has gone mad, Uncle." Myrcella told him firmly. "She blames me for the Dornish treason because I lived there and I have been advocating for peace. I understand leaving, and I agree with it." She looked back at the city with a sad stare as she thought on her beloved brother once more. "I have nothing for me in King's Landing now."
Jaime nodded. "That being said, you are the Queen now, Myrcella. The last trueborn child of King Robert." Myrcella wanted to laugh at that statement, but there were too many people around. "We can travel to Dorne, they are fighting for you as it is. Loren and the Westerlands will join us and we can march back on King's Landing and put you on the Iron Throne by force."
This was too much for Myrcella to think about. She knew that her Mother would whip up the public in a anti Dornish frenzy and joining Trystane would only fuel the public against her. "No, Dorne would use me as their puppet to gain vengeance on anyone they believe has wronged them." Myrcella told the half-truth of why she wouldn't travel South. "There is only one safe place for me, Uncle. Casterly Rock."
Jaime smirked at the answer and he bowed his head. "As you command, Your Grace." He said, before he rode around the rest of the group, pointing westwards. "We cut across these fields and hit the Gold Road, Ser's. We will escort the Queen to the Rock."
While King's Landing suffered with yet another death within its castle walls, White Harbour was at peace. Sansa Stark sat in her chambers sewing as her son sat on the floor bashing a wooden direwolf around. It was hard to believe that he was almost two years old now but the milestone was creeping up on them quickly. She smiled at the blonde-haired boy, his curls reminding her of Robb a bit. He noticed that and grinned at her, pushing himself up onto his bare feet and waddling over towards her. Sansa put the sewing down and welcomed him into her arms. "Hello Artie." She cooed.
"Wolf." Artos stated proudly, handing Sansa his toy.
"Thank you." She exclaimed proudly, taking the toy and pretending it was running on Artos' leg. She played there for a few minutes more until the door opened, and Mira walked in with a tray full of food.
"Good Morning Lady Sansa." She curtseyed. "Good morning Artie."
"Mira!" Artos exclaimed happily, his baby gurgle slurring the word slightly. He squirmed for Sansa to place him on the floor again and ran over to the Forrester girl, who had thankfully put the tray of food down on the desk in order to pick him up as he ran at her.
Mira hoisted Artos up high. "My goodness you're grown!" She teased, kissing the toddler on the cheek. "Come, you must have your breakfast." She placed Artos in a specially made baby seat and put a bowl in front of Artos, handing him the small wooden spoon. "Remember, eat. Don't throw."
Once Artos was settled, Mira came and joined Sansa over by the balcony doors. "Thank you." Sansa said honestly.
"A letter came from Asher last night." Mira said calmly. "The army have gathered, they're waiting for your brother to return with the Wildlings before they march on Winterfell."
Sansa sighed. "They don't have enough men." She said bluntly. "They may win the battle, but they'll never take Winterfell."
"Castles have fallen to less, My Lady." Mira said, keeping an eye on the toddler in the room.
"Not Winterfell." Sansa explained. The Bolton's had taken it through treachery with a handful of men, but provided provisions were plenty, under siege Winterfell was strong enough to push back tens of thousands of men for years. "I feel like I should be doing something useful, instead I'm preparing a cloak for Rickon to wear."
"Do not despair, My Lady." Mira smiled. "If there is any more to be done, you will figure it out."
Sansa smiled back, placing a hand on her friend's arm. "Thank you, Mira."
"Always." Mira nodded, rising to her feet. "Oh look Artie, you're all done!" She turned back to Sansa. "I will take him for his walk, if you will allow?"
Sansa nodded, and she calmly continued her stitching as Mira cleaned up Artie and escorted the young boy out of the room. As the silence enveloped her, Sansa sighed once more and stood up as she put the cloak to one side. There was something she could do, she knew it. Some piece of information that would help break the Bolton alliance apart to make it easier for them to win.
It took a while, but as Sansa was three quarters of the way through her own breakfast she remembered something that her Father had once said not long before everything had fallen to pieces. She remembered the trueborn son of Roose Bolton and the fate that he had suffered along with the rumours that Tyland Lannister had made her aware of as he told her about the Bastard of Bolton wishing to be legitimised. Knowing that all she could do was try, Sansa once more pulled out some parchment and a quill and began to write, hoping that her words could once more pull a Northern Lord to her side.
Tyrion Lannister thought himself an unusually observant person. His Queen had been unusually quiet ever since they had stopped off in Lys to resupply and the Targaryen woman had gone for a drink with the Greyjoy woman. Now though, as Tyrion was helped off of the narrow longboat by Grey Worm, he observed Daenerys walking for the very first time on the beach of Dragonstone as she savoured her return home.
He stayed a few feet back from the Dragon Queen with the majority of the party, but of course the one person who didn't care to allow Daenerys to integrate slowly with her surroundings was Yara Greyjoy, who walked straight past Tyrion towards a now kneeling Daenerys. "Welcome home." Yara said with her usual arrogant smirk.
Daenerys instead of responding just looked up at the gates leading up to the castle. Tyrion followed her gaze and noticed the unmistakable sight of Lannister armour lying on the ground. Corpses.
"He didn't even clean up." Tyrion heard Shireen whisper angrily, although her gaze was pointed up to the top of the gates where a couple of skeletons wearing Baratheon colours were propped up by the parapets.
"What happened here?" Daenerys turned back and asked.
Tyrion saw Shireen clenching her fists trying not to get angry, so he explained. "A battle, Your Grace. After Stannis Baratheon was defeated, my eldest brother was charged with seeing the Lady Shireen brought into his custody. This is the aftermath."
Dany looked upset as she knelt by a Lannister man. "Grey Worm." She spoke in Valyrian, something that Tyrion had been furiously refreshing himself in understanding. "See to it that every corpse is buried with dignity." The Unsullied Commander nodded sharply and turned back to bark out orders at his men who were close to the shoreline, and Daenerys stood back up again and continued towards the castle of her birth. They rose up the famous Dragonstone steps towards the jagged castle and Tyrion could only shudder at the eeriness of the place. They gained entry through the main gates to the castle and immediately came across a pair of Lannister banners standing proudly over half charred banners belonging to Stannis Baratheon. Tyrion noticed both Shireen and Dany eyeing up the banners, his wife looking sadly at the ground while the Queen had an angry stance looking up at his own banner. She reached up and yanked the left one down, letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously before she did the same with the lion banner on the right. "These are yours now, let them stay in your chambers." Dany said coldly to Tyrion. "I do not want to see the golden lion staking a claim to this castle ever again."
Tyrion nodded his agreement and looked at Bronn pointedly, who sighed and went to pick up the heavy cloth as the Queen moved further inside the castle. There were a couple of doors in the entrance hall and Daenerys looked towards Shireen for some guidance. "Through there, Your Grace." The Baratheon girl explained, nodding to some double doors on the right. Dany nodded thankfully and a couple of Unsullied soldiers moved to push the doors open.
It was a dark and imposing room, and the first thing that Tyrion noted was the obsidian throne in front of the lowest window in the room. Then was the carved Targaryen sigil in the floor. "Father never used this room." Shireen stated quietly as Daenerys walked over to the throne. "He took court elsewhere because he hated the floor." Tyrion chuckled at the image of Stannis Baratheon growling at stone as the group waited calmly for Daenerys to take in the room of her ancestors. She walked up the steps towards the jagged chair and rested her hand on the arm. "This is a cursed room." Shireen whispered. "This is where Princess Rhaenyra was eaten…"
Tyrion frowned. "King Aegon's dragon was far too big. It must have been outside somewhere." He whispered, but the two would have to table that debate for later as Daenerys walked back down towards them.
"The Chamber of the Painted Table." She stated. "Take me to it."
Shireen bowed her head. "Follow me, Your Grace." She said calmly, leading the way past the throne to an antechamber, which led to a corridor, which led to the most famous table in Westeros.
The wooden pieces had dust covering them, but Tyrion noticed that they were depicting the final stand of Stannis' forces in Dragonstone with a host of stag pieces on their sides on the bit of land that King's Landing now stood. His attention was then taken by the stone carving of a dragon adorning the wall. He walked over towards it, putting an arm out to touch the stone before deciding against it and turning back to face the table. Daenerys had walked around to the Dorne end of the map and after a lengthy stare, looked directly at Tyrion.
"Shall we begin?" She asked, and in that moment Tyrion truly felt like he was witnessing history being written before his very eyes.
Once he had arrived back to camp with the Free Folk and integrated them without too many fist fights, it had been a quick turnaround for the Stark army to march towards Winterfell. With the snows growing it took longer than normal and around a week after departing, Jon saw the castle he had once called home for the first time since leaving for the Night's Watch.
The first thing that Jon needed to do once the camp had been set up and defences secured was to arrange for a parlay. With Jon the face of House Stark he needed to do everything right and honourably in order for their potential victory to be seen as legitimate in the eyes of the people, so Jon, Lord Karstark, Lord Glover and Ser Marlon Manderly were the four men that rode towards Winterfell with a peace banner, where they were met by three men. Two in Bolton armour, and one wearing the colours of House Ryswell.
Ghost immediately started growling at the two wearing the sigil of House Bolton, the younger of whom glared back at the Direwolf dangerously. The elder one however didn't look fazed, and he just watched Jon curiously before opening his mouth. "Lord Commander, you seem to have abandoned your post."
"I'm not Lord Commander anymore." Jon said shortly.
"That's a post you serve until death, bastard." Ramsay Snow grinned. "You don't seem dead to me."
Jon didn't react to the threat. "I have served my oath and been released from it. Now I am here to serve another one."
"Your desertion aside, your presence here I understand." Roose nodded. "House Stark is your family, and their treason and fall must be difficult for you. But Lord Karstark, Lord Glover. You would serve a Lannister in trying to usurp the North?"
Harald Karstark spat on the ground. "I would no sooner serve a Lannister than I would you, murderer."
"Sansa Stark's son is a Lannister." Lord Rickard Ryswell stated bluntly.
"We do not serve Sansa Stark's son." Robett Glover said plainly. "We serve the son of Ned Stark."
They planned on being intentionally vague, and that clearly worked when all eyes swung to Jon. "A bastard and a deserter, sworn by oath to never inherit lands or father sons." Roose Bolton said calmly.
"I will take no lands." Jon repeated that part of his former oath. "But my brother can, and he will have Winterfell once you are both dead tomorrow."
Roose's eyes narrowed in anger and he glanced slightly at his bastard son. "A child."
"A Stark." Harald Karstark interrupted. "Better than traitors, better than you."
"I am the Lord of Winterfell, by decree of the crown." Roose Bolton stated coldly.
"No." Ser Marlon countered. "You were the acting Warden of the North until such a time that the Lord of Winterfell was of an age to rule, by decree of two dead Lannisters. Lord Wyman thinks that new regency is required for Lord Stark."
"Who is Lord Stark?" Lord Ryswell asked. "I was under the impression that all of Ned's boys were dead."
"Rickon survived. Rickon hid from Lord Bolton here after he burned Winterfell to the ground and blamed it on a man long dead." Jon answered truthfully. He noticed the look of surprise on Lord Rickard Ryswell's face in the corner of his eye, but Jon kept his attention on Roose Bolton. "Your services are no longer required, Lord Bolton. Stand down now, bend the knee to my brother and leave Winterfell and we will let you return to the Dreadfort to serve there. You were doing your duty as asked to by the Hand of the King, we can forgive that." It was barely true, but Jon knew he had to offer it to save as many lives as he could.
"House Stark were deposed for treason." Roose Bolton stated. "No, I will do no such thing. I will defend the North from traitors and their ilk."
"The fucking nerve of you…" Harald Karstark growled, but Jon held a hand up to calm the Karstark Lord.
"Then a duel, me and you." Jon offered. "The brother of Lord Stark and the patriarch of House Bolton fighting one on one for the North. We can save thousands of lives by risking just ours."
Roose huffed in amusement. "A duel in which I would lose. I have heard of your skill at arms and your Mormont sword. No, I have Winterfell and I have the superior numbers. It seems that this little talk is fruitless, if you wish to die fighting for a lost cause, Lord Commander Snow, then I grant you leave to die facing my army. After which I shall raise Rickon Stark myself, a guest to ensure the good will of the Northern Lords who do not understand the new lay of the land."
He had known that that wouldn't work but Jon knew that he had to offer. "I'm sure Lady Dustin and Lord Ryswell will appreciate that, Lord Bolton, knowing that you would risk the lives of their men so easily."
He heard a snicker of laughter from the three men behind him, but Jon kept his eyes firmly on the cold eyes of his enemy. Roose just nodded his head the once, those same cold eyes showing respect. "Well played, bastard, but you cannot goad me into a duel. If you are so insistent on battle, then battle it shall be." He turned his horse away and galloped back towards Winterfell, with Ramsay Snow close behind him.
Lord Ryswell however, paused. "Rickon Stark is truly alive?" He asked.
Jon nodded. "Bolton has lied about everything, Lord Ryswell. Do the right thing." Ryswell paused again, but he shook his head with a look of anger and turned his horse back towards the castle. Jon just sighed in disappointment. "We should rest." He stated. "Tomorrow at dawn, we march on Winterfell."
Kevan Lannister stood in the Gallery as the crowds had filled the Throne Room. Most were there nervously, and Kevan would be lying if he said he recognised the majority of the people in the room. Randyll Tarly had gone, as had Lord Paxter Redwyne and the rest of the Reachmen in the Capital. In fact the only ones standing in the room were Olenna Tyrell and her twin bodyguards. Even Jaime had disappeared, leaving a trail of blood in his wake the day before, or so Cersei had said.
It was Olenna Tyrell that took the space next to Kevan up in the Gallery as the crowd were waiting, and Olenna that opened the speaking, whispering quietly. "It seems that over the span of a number of hours, everything changes."
"Quite." Kevan murmured. "I am surprised to see you, My Lady. I thought with the King's death you had all departed."
Olenna smirked. "I am the least valuable Tyrell, Lord Hand…" She held a hand up apologetically. "My apologies, I forgot that she took the title from you."
With what authority, Kevan didn't know, but the death of King Tommen and the disappearance of Myrcella had left a humungous power vacuum in the Red Keep, one filled by Cersei. Somehow, she had gained the loyalty of both the Gold Cloaks and the High Septon, the latter of which was stood by the Iron Throne holding a hastily made golden circlet. "Cersei has done many things, and she gives too few answers." Kevan explained. "Only that this is the fault of the Dornish once more."
"Do you believe her?" Olenna asked, but Kevan remained silent. "Neither do I. I will be leaving after this if Cersei hasn't foreseen my departure and takes me hostage. Back to Highgarden, back to wondering where our loyalties lie."
It was something that Kevan was wondering himself. "I shall likely return to the Rock. Cersei has shown me that she does not need me here, and I will not give the impression that I support this… this folly. My brother's Grandson will not also."
As soon as Kevan said that the doors swung open, and in walked the woman in question, all dressed in black. Behind her walked seven heavily armoured guards, they too were dressed in black and wore disguising helmets, though their cloaks were white. "She moves quickly." Olenna commented, admiring the new Kingsguard knights.
Kevan agreed distastefully and he noticed one of them bore the Kettleblack sigil, one of her deceased sworn sword's brothers no doubt, but he held his tongue as he watched Cersei walk up to the Iron Throne, turning around to face the crowd. The High Septon took one step and stated loudly. "I now proclaim Cersei of the House Lannister the First of her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Protector of the Seven Kingdoms." He then moved towards Cersei and placed the circlet on her head. Kevan just shook his head slightly as his niece then moved backwards and sat herself down on the Iron Throne, looking like she had always belonged there. "Long may she reign!" The High Septon called.
Kevan still didn't say a word, nor did the elderly Tyrell woman beside him, but the rest of the lackeys in the room all cried out in repetition. "Long may she reign!"
As the chorus went up, Cersei's eyes flickered over to Kevan as a smirk adorned her lips, and Kevan felt ill. He didn't bother waiting then and he turned away and made for the stables, eager to get away from whatever was happening as quickly as he possibly could.
Queen Cersei Lannister, Protector of the Realm… a little later than in the actual show but her mistrust of Myrcella has forced it to happen. Her reaction was really fun to write, the sheer narrowmindedness of blaming the Dornish once more coupled with the shock that Jaime knows about her night time activities… remember in this story Jaime has slept with Cersei only maybe once or twice since Tommen was born. That of course means he isn't loyal to her and knows that Cersei is making a mistake, so he goes and gets Myrcella out. They maybe could have stayed but the Anti-Dornish sentiment isn't just Cersei, remember the majority of the population believe that they murdered Tyland and now Cersei is Queen she can spin Mace Tyrell's death in that direction too.
Boros Blount, Preston Greenfield, Burton Crakehall and Osney Kettleblack are the 'named' dead in this chapter from the duel in Myrcella's scene. Myrcella could have travelled to Dorne but she understands the optics and knows that her best chance of survival will come with Loren at the Rock.
Sansa has a plan… but will it work?
I borrowed a lot of the show for Dany's arrival scene, though in this story of course Tyland invaded Dragonstone a while back and Dany has Shireen with her who lived on Dragonstone all of her life nearly, so to make it more interesting I added more dialogue. I've also been doing a lot more reading of fics set during the Dance of the Dragons recently with regards to the new show coming, so the chance to have a couple of lines from Shireen, who famously talks about that event in the show, was too great for me to pass up.
Finally, the parlay scene. Again I borrowed some things from the show version but this time of course Ramsay is still a bastard and Roose Bolton is involved. I again had a lot of fun writing that one up.
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Reviews and PM's about this story as always are always welcome.
Next Time: Our entire focus is up in the North with the Battle of Winterfell…
Reviews:
Yamajiji: Definitely, Tommen is so unlucky to be born into the royal family for me, he would do better as a minor lord.
Supremus85: Thanks!
Silver crow: Myrcella is certainly capable, but after seeing how Tommen got affected will she want it?
BlackWatcher1234: I honestly don't think his plans were that bad in Season 7 at least. He just underestimated Jaime and didn't know about the Euron alliance yet as far as I can remember. The Red Woman will play her part in the fighting for sure. As for Loren and Sansa, it's a conversation that would certainly be interesting as beforehand they really got on. I'll have to think about where I put it though because as it stands I've not got them meeting. Varys is playing his part, simple as that.
Vwchick: I sympathise with her too, though she is rather cruel manipulating a child into loving her like that, even though that is the world. I hope you enjoyed the fall out!
Jason Kreuger Myers: The Tyrell's future plans certainly have taken a massive beating, though I wouldn't quite call it all for nothing just yet… Also for the other readers, JKM's theory was that Trystane would kill Loras…
PlaythegameOrDie: Myrcella didn't have a chance to see Tommen unfortunately, but all this will do has turned Myrcella against Cersei for good.
McMysterio: You're half right about Cersei's feelings about Myrcella. Their relationship has just been ripped to shreds now however and there's no coming back from this. I won't go too into detail about the actual battles because a war in Dorne just won't have that many, but I've explained what's happened and you'll get a full chapter devoted to a battle next time… Arya and Bran are close to coming back. Bran's story is currently as the tv show showed us, and Arya's true fate will be revealed very soon…
Rolling Mist 13: That means I pulled it off how I wanted to then! As sad as it was, Tommen just wasn't suited for the political tug of war between his wife, his mother and his sister.