Dorne 299/300 AC.
A Year in the life of Lord Bronn of Skyreach.
One Year ago.
As he watched Tyrion and Arianne land in front of him, he found himself almost reluctant to tell him what he'd done. It had not been his fault and he'd had no choice but he knew that perhaps wouldn't make a difference. Bronn may be a lord now but he was still who he had always been and not someone who'd been born into lordship. Was that not bad enough, there was the fact that he wasn't even Dornish to take into consideration.
A true Dornish Lord doing what he'd done would not suffer the consequences for it, if anything he might be feted because of it. Were he a prince then they may even give him an epithet because of it, such as the one Oberyn got for killing the Yronwood lord. Though according to Nym her father hadn't actually killed the man. Bronn thanked the gods for Nym as had she not come along when she did then he'd be in even more trouble than he already was.
Watching Tyrion climb down from Lygaron's back and seeing him help Arianne do the same, he knew he had to step forward and get in front of this right away. Soon enough others would tell their tales and in those, he had no doubt that he'd come out worse in their telling than he would in his own. He moved forward and though Tyrion was looking his way, his attention was still more on his wife than on him. It was only when he saw his expression that Tyrion said something to Arianne and then as Areo escorted the princess to her chambers to change, Tyrion walked his way.
"What happened?" Tyrion asked
"It wasn't my fault." Bronn replied.
"What did you do?" Tyrion asked.
"He had it coming." Bronn replied.
"Had what coming? Who had it coming?" Tyrion asked irritably as they walked into the Old Palace.
"I had no choice, it was him or me and you know I'm always going to choose me." he said trying to laugh it off.
"Bronn, what the fuck did you do?" Tyrion asked a little more loudly as he stopped and looked at him.
One day earlier.
The lesson he'd delivered was harsh but fair and he'd done exactly as Tyrion had told him to do. As he helped Ser Anron Gargalen up from the ground, Bronn leaned in close and left the man in no doubt whose disfavor he'd earned.
"My prince sends his regards, you'd do well to have him not seek to do so again." Bronn whispered as he smiled and held the man's hand.
"Fuck your prince." Ser Anron muttered.
"Careful or the next lesson I deliver will be a far harsher one." Bronn said before letting his hand go and watching Ser Anron fall to the ground.
Bronn then moved over to his wife and accepted her kiss, his eyes and her own were on Nym as she spoke to Arianne and yet smiled at them both. Tyrion was speaking to Jennelyn, though his eyes too were on him and his wife. Bronn smirking when he nodded at him. He looked forward to the feast that night and to the promises of the night to come. The looks on his wife's, her sister's, and Nym's faces all promising him a night he'd never forget. It wasn't always that they shared their bed together and both Jennelyn and Nym had made it a game to only reward them as they called it when he did something which pleased them. It was a game he very much enjoyed and given the looks on their faces, it was one that he'd won this time.
He was disappointed when Tyrion and Arianne took to the skies rather than stay and enjoy the feast and he knew they'd not be back until the morrow. Tyrion had confided in him that there was nothing like the open sky and laying in the desert afterward. Bronn wisely for once keeping his lips shut and not japing that it was perhaps the cold night's breeze on his exposed arse as he lay with his wife that Tyrion truly enjoyed.
Without Tyrion here to keep him entertained, the man's company and wit had become something he'd grown to enjoy, even when it annoyed him, Bronn found himself sitting with his wife, her sister, and Nym and paying closer attention to the room than he normally would. Lady Sylva sat with her betrothed Ser Anron and Bronn could see the man was still stewing and the lady's attempts to soothe his damaged ego were not working. He resisted the urge to raise his glass and offer the man a toast, though it was a hard thing for him to do.
Eventually, the night came to a close and his reward was even better than he'd imagined it would be. It was thirsty work though and they very soon went through the wine he'd brought to his and Jeyne's room. Being a lord his first instinct was to send for a servant to bring them more but truth be told he could do with some air and a rest and were he to lay here and wait for the wine to be brought then he'd get neither. So he dressed quickly and moved out into the gardens to cut across to the kitchens and wine cellars to fetch it himself. At what point he knew he was being followed he couldn't tell, only that he was and he cursed the fact he only had a dirk with him.
"Fuck." he said softly as his ears picked out that it was three men at least, though he'd wager it was four and he was proved right when the spear flashed in front of his eyes.
How the fucker had missed him, he knew not, but Bronn didn't miss as he ducked under the spear's shaft and stuck the dirk through the man's chin and out the top of his head. He caught the spear as it fell and thrust out with it catching the second man in the chest before spinning and using the point of the spear to cut another man's throat. The last man tried to run but he didn't get far as Bronn threw the spear and caught him in the back before walking over, removing it, and then forcing it down through the back of the man's head.
"Bronn?" he heard the voice call out worriedly and he looked to see Nym standing there, the small shift she wore barely covering her as she looked at him.
"These fuckers attacked me." he said and she nodded as she asked him was he hurt "No, I'm good, who the fuck are they?"
"Gargalen men, I think that one is Ser Anron." Nym said pointing to the first man he'd killed.
"For fucks sake." he said knowing the trouble this would cost.
The following day.
He looked to Tyrion who was shaking his head as he finished telling him the tale. Bronn finding himself unable to judge the look on the man's face. They'd made it to his solar and he watched as Tyrion took a seat and poured them both some wine, Bronn drinking it down quickly and then pouring himself another glass.
"One night I leave you alone." Tyrion said with a snort.
"It wasn't my fault." he said with a shrug of his shoulders, realizing that Tyrion wasn't as angry as he may very well have been.
"Nym will confirm this?" Tyrion asked.
"She will, it wasn't my intent, Tyrion. The fucker came out of nowhere, had I known it was him I'd not even have ended him, just hurt him a little." he said with a chuckle.
"Lady Sylva will be so wroth." Tyrion said an odd smile on his face that Bronn didn't understand the reason for.
"Tyrion?"
"It seems my schemes cost the lady a chance at love, she'd sought another husband, and then because of me was forced to deny her heart and be wed to Ser Andrey, someone else whose heart lay in another direction." Tyrion said with a laugh "Life and love, don't let anyone ever tell you that both won't kick you in the arse if you fuck with them."
"You're not angry?" he asked sipping his wine as he looked at him.
"I'm fucking furious and Arianne will be even more so. There will be a big show of things and I expect you to be your most humble and apologetic self and to thank the gods that you're in the service of a Dragonrider and that my wife is a romantic at heart."
"Were she not?" he asked worriedly.
"Oh Bronn, were she not then I'd at least give you leave to run." Tyrion said with a chuckle.
Now.
Watching Tyrion and Arianne land had brought back the memories and for some reason he felt the need to play a jape on his prince before the day was done. A year ago Bronn had stood and pled his case in front of the Princess and Prince Consort of Dorne and all its Lords and Ladies. Nym had then spoken and though some weren't happy with what he'd done, there were far more that were. None more so than the two ladies whose betrothals were changed immediately prior to his plea.
Lady Sylva and Ser Andrey's betrothal was immediately broken and the knight was given leave to follow his heart and marry Lady Alenis Vaith, something that pleased both of them greatly. As for Lady Sylva, Ser Aron, the man she'd broken her own betrothal to based on Tyrion's plots and schemes, was now once again to be her husband. Even for someone like him who wasn't a romantic at heart like the princess was, you'd need to be blind not to see how each of them had welcomed this news.
He watched as Tyrion helped Arianne down from Lygaron's back, the chain mail armor the dragon now wore making it easier for him to do so. Nym and Jeyne moved quickly to Arianne's side while Tyrion looked over at him and walked his way. Bronn did his best to make his expression look worried and though he wasn't one who excelled at mummery it seemed to have the desired effect as Tyrion now glared at him.
"What happened?" Tyrion asked and Bronn had to bit the inside of his cheek to stop his laughter.
"It wasn't my fault." Bronn replied.
"Bronn?" Tyrion asked, his annoyance clear and Bronn lost his battle and burst out in laughter "Bronn?"
"Gods you're so fucking easy." Bronn said laughing still.
"Careful, Lygaron hasn't eaten today." Tyrion said his voice chilling and as Bronn looked at him, he was relieved to see the smirk on his prince's face.
"Very fucking funny." he said and both of them laughed as they entered the Old Palace.
The Riverlands 300 AC.
The Blackfish.
If he'd thought that the settling in period would be quick and easy with no issues then he'd been a fool. The first of the things he had needed to deal with had been at the welcoming feast he'd had thrown for Bran. He'd been happy with those who'd come and it seemed whatever hard feelings there still remained over what Cat and Edmure had done hadn't been passed on to him and his grandnephew. It was hard enough to be a new lord and to deal with all that entailed without having to also deal with issues that weren't down to anything you had been a part of.
At one point, Brynden had worried that his presence rather than being a help to Bran may actually be a hindrance and that had been his one true fear all the way from King's Landing to Riverrun. He'd not been able to shake the idea that his name and the stain that was now carried by House Tully would see itself attached to Bran. Had he found it to be true then he'd have sought someone else to serve as his regent and perhaps have made his way to the Wall to live out the rest of his days. So when he found out that if anything his presence only helped Bran to settle and was welcome by the other Riverlords, it was a huge weight off his mind.
As was finding out the state of the keep and its treasury. For all her faults Cat had left the keep in good standing and though she'd taken much of their portable wealth, there was still more than enough so he'd not need to take out a loan from anyone. In time they'd be almost to what they were before and even though they'd lost some lands, the king had given them favorable tax rates. In a year or two, they'd perhaps be where Hoster had always had them. They had a need to do something with their guards and to restructure some things but no one would go hungry and his grandnephew would not go into debt.
His first major problem was with some of Edmure's former friends. Lymond Goodbrook, Tristan Ryger, and Marq Piper had made it clear that they'd not forgiven the dragon for all he'd taken from them and had not learned the lessons that had cost Edmure and Cat their lives. They'd not come out blatantly and asked him how he felt about Jaehaerys Targaryen, nor had they spoken out loud their own feelings. Not that they had needed to as Brynden may not enjoy the games the high lords and knights played but he knew them well enough. The three men were fools but fools had brought down his house and he would not allow them to bring down his grandnephew.
"Jonos." he said taking a seat after Bran had retired for the night.
"Brynden. Young Bran, he seems a good lad." Jonos said and they drank their ale.
"Aye he is, he'll make a damn good lord." he said with a fond smile on his face.
"I'm relieved to see you guide him, Brynden as I know are Tytos and the others." Jonos said.
"You and Tytos have set aside your enmity?" he asked.
"We're kin by marriage and one day my grandson will be Lord Paramount. We'll never truly be close but we're amiable enough and the man came to my aid when I needed it. It's hard to then turn around and think him an enemy after that." Jonos said and Brynden caught Lymond Goodbrook look his way noticing that Jonos did too.
"Would that all the Riverlords thought such." he said softly and Jonos smirked.
"Hah, you speak of the three fools?" Jonos said.
"You're aware of them?" he asked.
"It's not me that they need to worry about, Brynden. They've attracted the attention of far more dangerous men than me."
"The King?" he asked softly.
"His Master of Whisperers." Jonos said and Brynden nodded.
They spoke on other things, Jonos asking him if he'd be taking Bran to visit the other lords, and was it true that the boy was betrothed to Myrcella Hill. Brynden chuckling to himself about that later that night. Any true worries he had about Bran not being accepted were removed if people were seeking his hand in the future. Given that the king saw Bran as his brother perhaps he really shouldn't be so concerned anyway. But he'd failed his family once and he'd not do so again. Be it from those outside his house or from themselves, this time he'd intervene far earlier and far more emphatically than he had before.
He was heading to his bed when he heard the commotion, Brynden running towards Hoster's room and seeing Utherydes standing there with Bran and Summer. His grandnephew was holding a book in his hand and the steward was looking at it eagerly, so much so that he didn't notice his arrival.
"Uncle, look what Summer found." Bran said excitedly and Brynden moved over to him to take the book from his hand.
"It's Lord Hoster's journal, Ser Brynden, the one we couldn't find." Utherydes said and Brynden nodded.
"Where was it?" he asked and Bran pointed to the hole in the wall.
"Right, to bed with you, Bran, you've to be up early on the morrow we've much to do. I'll keep a hold of this. Now go, it's far too late for you to be awake as it is." he chided gently and Bran nodded before he and Summer walked from the room.
Brynden waited until they were both gone and out of earshot before he took a seat and opened the book. He asked Utherydes to explain what had happened and how Bran had found something they could not. Hearing that it was the wolf that did so was not as shocking as it should be, Brynden had been around the Direwolves enough to know they were not normal. They had an intelligence about them that was unnatural and he'd heard his niece say to Bran that the wolves always know, whatever that meant.
After dismissing Utherydes, he began to read the journal and though he'd only intended to glance through it, he ended up reading it all. It was light out by the time he'd finished and he'd gone through so many different emotions during the night that he couldn't remember which ones he'd felt at which time. All he knew was he'd been angered so much by what he read that he'd almost wanted to tear the book in two. The thoughts of how different things could have been had Hoster done what it was he wished to do were now causing him a blinding headache.
Would Edmure still be alive?
Would Cat?
Would his niece have corrupted his grandnephew and forced the king to take his head also?
Why hadn't Hoster told him? Or handed him the letter?
What had Edmure done?
Each thought had sent him to dark places and he believed that if Edmure was still alive then he'd be a kinslayer because he'd kill him where he stood. He believed it now with all he was, that his nephew had at the very least played a part in Hoster's death, and at the worst he'd killed him. Had Hoster unnamed him then Cat would have been Bran's regent and things would have perhaps been much worse as her hatred for the king was irrational. She'd have used her position as regent and Bran would have suffered as she had. As for his brother, Brynden believed that Hoster had made one last attempt to speak to Edmure, one final effort to set him on the right path and it had cost him his life.
What was he to do?
Should word get out of this then their shame would be even more than it already was and his first instinct was to throw the journal into the fire. Yet he knew he could not and that if anything the words needed to be spoken aloud. Perhaps they would show his brother in a far better light and remove some of the stains from his name. As for Edmure, nothing would do that for his nephew regardless of what further revelations were made.
He tried not to laugh at the irony of things, both Edmure and Cat had spent years worrying about Jon Snow usurping Robb and in the end, his own nephew and Cat's own brother had usurped Bran. As he rose to his feet and heard the crick of his bones, he sighed. Perhaps this would remove the last shreds of loyalty that the three fools had to his nephew and set them on the right path, perhaps not. By the end of this day, all the Riverlords would know the truth of Edmure and he'd see a raven was sent to King's Landing warning them about Marq, Tristan, and Lymond. Their fates were in their hands, the god's hands and the hands of the dragon, and Brynden had washed his hands of them.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Roslin.
When she'd been called to the King's Chambers she'd been so very nervous. She knew what it was she wished for but she'd never dare to ask for it and had instead just hoped and prayed that it would be offered to her. The tales of Jaehaerys and Margaery were ones she and the other women at the Twins had heard many times and she'd felt that there was a good chance that she'd be rewarded for telling him the truth about his father's remains. Still, when he actually told her that not only would he see her wed but that he'd see her wed to the man who'd caught her eye, she'd barely believed it.
She'd spoken to Lady Genna about what it was she hoped for. The lady at first reassuring her that while the king was angry and would punish her House, he was not without compassion and he'd only seek retribution against those who were actually involved. So she'd written out her list and named all those she knew had played their part and had then sat with Lady Genna and discussed her future.
"I know his grace will seek to reward you for this, so I'll ask you what it is you wish for, Roslin?" Genna asked as they sat and drank tea.
"I want what all ladies wish for, my lady. A good match and one that will ensure my future, it's what each of us at the Twins dream of, and despite my father's way of going about things, it was always to him that we looked to see it so." she said softly.
"Your father is and has been the biggest obstacle to all your matches. You're a fine lady, Roslin, one that were you born in any other house or to any other father would be much sought after. However Lord Walder goes about things the wrong way, he demands and pesters rather than requests and he aims far too high. He sought my nephew's hand did he not?" Lady Genna said looking at her.
"He did, my lady." she replied not looking the woman in the eye.
"A prince of House Targaryen and he sought a match with him. Even were my nephew who the realm had thought him to be, your father still aimed too high. Be sure not to make the same mistake as he did." Lady Genna said and Roslin nodded "Now with that in mind, who is it that you have your eye on?"
There had been surprise when she'd told her, shock even. More of the latter when she had informed her brothers of what she'd asked for. Both Perwyn and Olyvar had been aghast when she'd told them what their father had done and yet when she told them she wished to be wed to a northern lord's son, that was what had truly shocked them. Each of them had tried to talk her out of it, bringing up talk of the faith and the cold of the north and even disparaging the man who'd taken her fancy.
It hadn't been what she'd expected when she came to King's Landing. She hadn't sough to see the Smalljon fight in the melee and to find herself a flutter and yet it had happened and he felt so very right to her. As she'd left the King's Chambers after he'd granted her what she wished for, she had almost danced and then the waiting had commenced. She feared the Smalljon was betrothed or that he'd not wish her hand and that even the dowry and the coin the king gave her for herself wouldn't be enough. Years of almost being betrothed only to be rejected began to prey on her mind and she felt herself grow more worried each and every day until the invitation came for her to meet Lord Umber.
She made her way to the rooms they had taken in the large tavern, both of her brothers beside her and as she entered it she felt her heart still at the look the Smalljon threw her way. The smile he wore was to her eyes a true one and as she moved toward the table he and his father sat at, she swore she saw the Greatjon smile too. It gave her a confidence that she feared she'd never have as she took her seat and as both her brothers took theirs.
"Lady Roslin, Ser Perwyn , Olyvar, I'm Lord Jon Umber though most call me the Greatjon and my son here as you no doubt know, my lady, is known as the Smalljon." The Greatjon said.
"Lord Umber, Smalljon." her brother said and Roslin put her hand out surprised by the gentle kiss that the Smalljon placed upon it.
"His grace has made his feelings on this match very clear and I find I've no desire to go against him, however, it's not I who's to be matched but you, my lady, and my son. So if your brothers would join me for an ale, I'll leave you both to speak, we'll not be far." The Greatjon said as he moved from the table and Perwyn and Olyvar joined him.
There was silence for a moment or two and then both of them tried to speak at the same time, Roslin giggling a little at it and happy to see what she found to be a most pleasant smile on the Smalljon's face as he bid her speak.
"I..is it Jon or Smalljon you prefer?" she asked softly.
"Smalljon, my lady."
"Roslin." she said with a smile.
"Roslin." he said a moment later.
"I know your lands are harsh and I want you to know I'm not as delicate as I look. I will adapt to them and I believe we could be most happy together. However, if I don't please you or if you can find fault then I'd not hold you to any agreement." she said determinedly and she breathed out deeply once she'd finished.
"I had not thought to marry, Roslin, I'll be truthful with you about that and since it was put to me, I'll not lie and say I've not thought of a way to break the betrothal and seek a way out of it. I find myself most pleased I've curbed my most stupid of impulses." the Smalljon said and she felt herself relax.
For the next hour, they spoke and by the end of it when her brothers and the Greatjon moved back to the table she found herself wishing they were not there with them. Looking into the Smalljon's face she could see that he too was feeling this way and it pleased her greatly. They agreed to spend some time together and when the Greatjon suggested she come back to the North with them to see the lands she'd one day be the lady of, she accepted eagerly. Her brothers far less so but they too agreed to travel to Last Hearth with them. The chance of sailing on a Pinnacle Ship perhaps a far bigger reason for that than any true desire to see the North.
When they got back to the Red Keep, she, Perwyn, and Olyvar were called to a meeting with Lady Genna where they were told what had happened at the Twins and what sentence the king had given their House. It was far lesser than she had feared and the thoughts of the six men who'd been sentenced to the Wall now being gone from the keep were ones that she welcomed. As was the news that despite the loss of the income from the bridge and the taking back of Prince Tyrion's toll to serve as her dowry, that was the extent of their punishment. Stevron would make a far better Lord of the Twins than her father. In time perhaps their house wouldn't be looked down on the same way and the other women would be as lucky as she was in their matches, she hoped they would be.
"Lady Roslin Umber." she said softly as she lay in her room later that day and she closed her eyes to dreams of her betrothed and the life they'd share together.
Horn Hill 300 AC.
Randyll Tarly.
All his life he'd supported the dragons, even when they'd been deposed and he'd been forced to tip his banner and bend his knee outside Storm's End it had been done so reluctantly. So much had he been for House Targaryen that for years their perceived end had fuelled his hatred of Mace Tyrell. He knew quite well that people thought him prickly over Ashford and in a way he was, it had been him who'd won the day after all. That though wasn't his biggest issue with the Tyrell's. It was Mace's refusal to give them leave to ride to Rhaegar's side and what it had ended up costing them that he hated the man for.
Arden his former Maester tried to fuel that hatred even further and had the man being someone he respected then his words would have perhaps had a bigger effect. Maesters though were to help run the keep and advise only when needed and he'd not take the advice of a man who had never swung a sword in anger. He'd not mourned the man when his body had been found and later when he found out the truth of what he and his order had tried to do from Ser Richard, he had welcomed it. It had also in a way made him appreciate his useless oaf of a son a little bit.
"He's there to learn and to be a Maester, Randyll, but he's also someone we know we can trust. Should they ever look to the dragons with anything but loyalty in their heart then it'll be men like your son that we can rely upon." Ser Richard said.
"It's not the life of a lord's heir." he replied dismissively.
"Then it's as well he's not your heir anymore is it not?"
It was true, Samwell being in Oldtown at the Citadel had given him leave to name Dickon publicly and his second son was more what an heir should be. Knowing that his other son served a use and would help see the dragons thrive even allowed him to feel something he never had when he thought about him, pride. That it also allowed for his mother and sisters to not worry about how he was doing and to read the letters he would constantly send them, made his own life easier in that regard too.
In some ways, Randyll was a very different man than he had been over the last few years. When he'd found out the truth about Jon Snow and had later seen him with Ser Arthur Dayne it had come as a shock and yet one that he welcomed. Despite the boy being thought of as a bastard, even he'd been impressed with his skills with a sword and when he'd faced him and beaten him he'd have accepted it as being beaten by the better man. After the boy had revealed who he truly was, that was even more true he thought with a smirk.
Learning they were to march to war and that they had the West, North, and even Dorne at their side, as well as dragons, had been one of the greatest days of his life. The thoughts of finally being in a position to see the Stag brought low were ones that were he another man would have had him breaking into song. Yet the battle had been a disappointment, the war over before it began. Other than in the assault on the Red Keep that was led by the king himself, Randyll had seen little action even though he'd taken a wound in the process. It left him unfulfilled and as he'd laid in his bed recovering he'd felt no satisfaction other than in helping a dragon back to the throne. It was as he was recovering that the king had come to him and spoken to him privately.
"Your grace, forgive me for not rising." Randyll said as he lay in his bed.
"There is nothing t forgive, my lord. It's good to see you well. I've been informed that you should recover fully from your wound?" the king asked as he took a seat by his bed.
"As have I, your grace." he said as the king motioned to the jug of water and after Randyll nodded poured them both out a cup.
"I wanted to thank you personally, my lord, I owe a debt to you and to those who took this keep with me."
"There is no debt owed, your grace. It is us that owe you our fealty and on my own behalf I am most happy to give it to you." he said before sipping his water.
"And I'm most grateful for it, Lord Tarly, truly. Ser Richard tells me that despite our success you feel as if you could have done more?" the king asked curiously.
"I do, your grace. Don't get me wrong I'm most pleased that once again House Targaryen has taken its throne but…."
"You wished to test yourself in battle and no doubt after hearing of the God's Eye and the Trident you feel cheated somewhat." the king said and Randyll nodded slightly "May I confide in your something, something few if any know?"
"Of course, your grace, I'd be honored for you to do so." Randyll said sitting up a little straighter in his bed.
"It pleases me that the battles fought went so smoothly. Not just because I care for my allies, though I very much do but because this is not the only fight there is to come, and to be completely truthful not even the most important of them. Oh don't get me wrong, my lord, without one there can't be the other and this one was needed for more reasons than simply the right of it. But one day, hopefully not too soon, the realm will find itself in a fight it must win. On that day, my lord, I hope to be able to call upon you and I promise you on that day it's a fight you shall have."
He had said no more than that at the time, only bidding him to fully recover and that in time Ser Richard would get in touch and he'd learn more. It had made him reconsider things about the War of the One True King, his part in it, and the glory he'd not found. When he'd returned to Horn Hill it had made him drill his men just as fiercely as he had from the moment he'd learned the truth about Jaehaerys Targaryen. So when the letter came and the cart arrived with the Dragonglass he'd done as he was requested.
Daily his men fought against each other in a manner that for the life of him, he couldn't understand. They fought against others of his men who were ill-disciplined and fought like savages and Randyll wondered if it was the Wildings the king had been planning to fight. Only to remember they'd already been let through to Wall. He thought it was Essosi of some sort, the Dothraki perhaps, only they didn't practice against horses. Were that not enough to confuse him then the weapons themselves would see that so.
Arrowheads, speartips, crude knives, and axes all made out of a material that should be brittle and was very much not. Where they had found it in such a manner he knew not only that be it the ax, hammer, or sword nothing castle forged would break something that he knew it should. Other than using Heartsbane against it, the Dragonglass was almost unbreakable and crude though it was, on that he was thankful. Daily they drilled and all without answer until one day a visitor came calling to his hall.
"My lord, Ser Richard Lonmouth is at our gates." Akers his captain of the guard said after he'd knocked at the door of his solar.
"See him in and have him escorted to me. Marlo, have some wine and refreshments brought for our guest." he said to his squire and the boy ran off to do as he was bid.
It didn't take long for Ser Richard to walk in and as he had been since he'd learned he was alive, Randyll was pleased to see the man. He was a good man and true and that the king had found a role for him on his Small Council was a good thing. After he'd greeted him and bid him take a seat, Marlo arrived back with some wine and a plate of bread, cheese, and cold meats. Richard seeming grateful for all of them as he drank and ate before he spoke.
"It's been a hard ride, this is much appreciated, Randyll." Richard said after a moment.
"What brings you here, Richard?"
"It's almost time, Randyll, his grace will be sending you a raven soon calling you and your men to arms. You need to be ready when he does. Half your men, Randyll, you'll be asked to bring half your men to Oldtown and from there they'll sail to the Wall." Richard said.
"Wildings?" he asked and Richard shook his head.
"No, dead men, Randyll, men, and beasts who'll fall only to fire, Dragongalss and Dragongsteel. Heartsbane will be your greatest friend in the battle to come." Richard said and Randyll got ready to snort, dead men, surely this was a jape.
"His grace will provide proof and show you what you're to face, Randyll, make-ready and say your goodbyes to your family and let the men say their own. The call is coming and it'll be but weeks and not even a moon when it does so." Richard said.
He smiled as he looked at him, the king's words proving true and whether it was truly the dead or some other enemy he was facing he cared not. Only that the fight was coming and that he would play his part, just like at Ashford.
The Vale 300 AC.
Lady Anya Waynwood.
Men were so predictable, her grandson had fallen for his betrothed the moment he'd seen how fair she was. Lady Leona bore the same beauty that all those of House Tyrell did to varying degrees. Were you to look at the girl from a distance and she to be dressed in her grace's clothes then you'd think it was the queen herself you were looking at. Even close up there were times she could be her grace's twin. So as soon as she'd smiled and Roland had kissed her hand, her grandson was smitten.
Leona herself took a little longer and needed to spend time with Roland before Anya began to see the signs that she was at least not against the match and after a week or so at Ironoaks it was clear she was far more for it. Ironoaks too pleased the lady and knowing that she would one day be the lady of the keep, even more so. As for Anya herself, she found the girl to be a delight, smart, charming, and possessing of a keen wit she was all she'd ever wished for in a good granddaughter. That the match itself was fortuitous only made her even more pleased.
Yet despite all of that, it wasn't Roland and Lady Leona that had her feeling as she did now. It was Donnel and the news she had to share with him and had been keen to do so from the moment the queen had informed her of it. Had it not been for Lady Leona and her brother Ser Lyonel wishing to visit Ironoaks and meet with her betrothed, Anya cursing herself for not bringing Roland with her to King's Landing, then she and Morton would have traveled to speak to her second son by now. As it was she had to wait until the lady and her brother had departed and arrangements were made for Roland to travel to Highgarden and meet with Ser Leo, Lady Alys, and the rest of Leona's family. The same day that she said her goodbyes and Lady Leona, her brother, their escort, and Roland made their way by boat to Gulltown, Anya had Morton form up their own guard and they quickly began their own journey to the Bloody Gate.
"Would not a letter suffice, mother?" Morton had said and she'd glowered at him as she shook her head.
"I'll not send word to your brother of his new role in a letter. I intend for us to travel to the Eyrie and to take stock of all that's needed once we reach it. To then scout the lands for the best place for a keep to be built as per her grace's request." she said as Morton nodded.
"Aye, perhaps you have the right of it, Donnel would probably run from the Bloody Gate if he read it first." Morton said with a chuckle.
The time it took them to travel to the Bloody Gate passed quickly. Anya found that her excitement with the reasoning for that journey somehow made the days just fly by. She even enjoyed camping out which was not something she usually did. Sitting by the fire and eating freshly caught and cooked food and listening to her son and their men speak adding to her enjoyment rather than taking away from it. They'd brought a large party to ensure there was no trouble from the Mountain Tribes and only had to fend off one attack along the way.
The nature of which was something she'd still been thinking of when they reached the Bloody Gate. A large eagle had squawked loudly over their heads and had forced the ambush to be foiled. Anya unlike Morton was still sure that the eagle had done so deliberately and that it wasn't the gods who had been watching over them. Tales of what the king may be able to do with birds and other animals were ones much spoken about amongst the men of the Vale and she found she believed them more truly now.
"Mother, what are you doing here?" Donnel asked when he saw her, Morton, and their escort.
"Is that any way to greet the woman who brought you into the world?" she asked smirking as she winked at young Sandor.
"I'm always pleased to see you mother, you know that." Donnel said as Morton helped her down from her horse.
"As well you should be." she said embracing her second son "Now let's get me inside somewhere warm before I freeze my old bones more than they already are."
She was happy to feel the fire warm her up and at the warm meal and hot cider that Donnel had sent Sandor to fetch for them. Her guards too would be happy with being indoors even if it was to be only for one night. Once she'd warmed herself up and eaten, she told Donnel to take a seat and had then gone on to explain to him her reasons for being here. Her son's shock forcing him to be unable to respond to her for what felt like an age.
"Why mother? Why would their graces wish to reward us so?" Donnel asked after a while.
"Despite him deserving his fate, I feel their graces had no desire to see Harrold fall. Were they how some had feared then they'd have stripped him of land and title right at the start of things. Even those who rose against them have been treated far more fairly than any of us had dared to hope and as for us, there are many reasons. You, Donnel are but one of them." she said proudly.
"I am?" he asked confused.
"This king knows things Donnel, we all found that out during the War of the One True King. At each step, it was we that were in the dark while those on his grace's side knew far more than we did and his grace even more than them I'd wager. I've no doubt word has reached him of your part at the gate, of the things you said and that I said. So we've found favor with a good king and queen were once we had none with our own liege." she said looking at her son.
"I had thought, this, the Knight of the Bloody Gate, this was the limits of my ambition." Donnel said looking to her and to Morton.
"Well, no more is it to be. You are to be the Castellan to House Targaryen of the Vale, a future sworn bannermen of the head of said house. Sworn to them and the crown above even Lord Royce." she said and she saw how he swelled up in pride, something she herself had done ever since it had been told to her.
The next day, they said their goodbyes to the Bloody Gate, Donnel handing over his seal to his second until Lord Royce sent the new Knight to take his place. Their destination was the Eyrie and as she rode with two of her sons, Anya found herself smiling when she saw the eagle flying over her head. It was a far more welcoming sight than the falcons after all.
Harrenhal 300 AC.
Lady Shella Whent.
Her time was nearly up, she felt it keenly, and in a way she welcomed it. She'd lived a good and long life and had finally seen a dragon back on the throne, something she'd fear she'd not live to see. Her children were long passed and she was the last of her line and where at once she would have feared what was to become to Harrenhal when she passed, she feared it no longer. The seat of a Targaryen Prince or Princess, her home to be honored in such a way and her sigil to be incorporated into their own. As legacies go it was not a bad one to leave behind.
She knelt by the Weirwood and spoke her prayers. They were not her gods and not Oswell's either but they were the gods of the king they both served. It was why she'd seen his bones buried beneath them after the king had returned him to her. His words about the trees had stuck in her mind and Shella smiled as she remembered them.
"The old gods watch the world through the Weirwoods, Lady Shella, it's what the North believes and I know they watch me through them. When I kneel and speak to them, offer them my prayers, my thanks and talk about my fears, I now they can see and hear me." the king said.
"Then perhaps you have the right of it, your grace and it's us who follow the seven in the wrong?" she asked as she looked at him.
"No, my lady, anyone with faith has the right of it, whatever it is that they have faith in."
The king reminded her of his father at times, even though she'd only spoken to them both on a couple of occasions. There was an earnestness about him some times that she remembered the prince having and yet he was different from him too and she wondered if that was his mother shining through. She struggled to her feet and coughed a little, her handkerchief going to her mouth and she could see the blood that now stained it as she wiped her lips.
"My lady, do you require help?" Mya asked and Shella shook her head as she turned to look at the young woman.
Robert Baratheon's daughter she may be but she had none of his temperament and none of his animosity against the dragons. If anything Lady Mya Redfort may very well be one of the few people in the realm who thought of the king even more highly than she did. Shella had been surprised when she and her husband had arrived and told her their tale. The letter from the crown proving them true just as much as their words did. They were to be sworn to the prince or princess of Harrenhal and they were here to seek out the lands of their keep. In time they would see to its building and they would serve in her stead as Castellan of Harrenhal should the need arise.
Arise it would and soon, she thought with a smirk as the lady took her arm and they walked back toward the keep. They didn't make it far before she felt the shadow of their heads. Mya looking up in alarm when the white dragon flew over them. Shella felt her heart race a little and looked back at the Weirwood with a wry smile on her face. They didn't hurry through the godswood as she wasn't able for such a thing but they did manage to reach the courtyard before the king and she was most grateful for that.
"Harrenhal is yours, your grace." she said as she curtsied, Mya, Mychel, her own, and their guards all kneeling beside her.
"I thank you for the welcome, my lady. Please rise." the king said and she found how intently he looked at her to be a little off-putting.
He greeted both Mychel and Mya warmly, both of them pleased to see him, and then he asked if he could speak to her in private. They walked together to her solar, Ser Arthur behind the king, and once again she found the king looking at her intently. By the time they had taken their seats and refreshments had been brought she found the looks disconcerting and so she was pleased when he explained his reason for them.
"Forgive me, my bluntness Lady Whent but I had not intended to stop off at Harrenhal on my way back to King's Landing. I would not have were it not for Rhaenix." the king said.
"Your dragon wished to stop here, your grace?" she asked curiously.
"She did, my lady. My sister believes your time is short, forgive me for putting it in such a way." he said shaking his head.
"On that, she has the right of it, your grace. My time is coming and is soon to be at an end." she said and she was surprised to see the sadness in his expression as he looked back at her.
"It pains me to hear it for true, my lady. No words I can offer will bring you respite and so perhaps actions will have to suffice."
"Your grace?"
"Which of the towers can you see from your room, my lady, from your window?" the king asked.
"The Tower of Ghosts, your grace." she said looking at him curiously.
"It's unused and empty, my lady?" the king asked and she nodded "Very well, I'd ask you to look from your window though if you'd prefer you can do so from the courtyard, whichever provides a better view?"
"The window, your grace." she said and the king rose.
An hour later she stood at her window, Mya, some servants, and Tothmure the Maester beside her. The sound of the song filled the air and then she and those with her were forced to turn their eyes away as a light began to shine that was brighter than any she'd ever seen before. Shella felt her excitement begin to rise as tales of what the king had done when he'd dealt with House Frey had reached her within days of it happening. Yet even she was amazed at the sight she saw when the light began to fade away.
The Tower of Ghosts stood as if it had just been completed, its black stone shone and sparkled almost. She hurried from the room so eager was she to see it even more truly and as she reached the courtyard she saw the king standing with Ser Mychel and Ser Arthur. When he saw her, the king moved towards her and offered her his arm which she happily took. Around the courtyard, she could see the looks he was receiving and though she couldn't hear the words that Mychel was saying to Mya, she could hear the wonder in his voice as he spoke.
"By the seven." she said gasping as she looked at what had once been a ruined Sept, the stone again looking as if it had just been built.
Entering the Tower of Ghosts was like walking into a different world than the one she'd known at Harrenhal all her life. It felt as new as it looked and though the wood and glass needed to be repaired, the stone itself did not. There was no evidence of what Balerion had done all those years ago and for the first time in her life, one tower at least was how it should be. Shella listened as the king explained that in time the entire keep would be this way and that had he been aware of her health then he'd have seen it so by now.
"I thank you for showing me this much, your grace." she said above his protests and he nodded when she made it clear that he'd given her more than enough.
He stayed at Harrenhal that night and refused to leave her bedside when she felt it come upon her. The king himself opening the window so she could look out on the Tower of Ghosts as night began to fall. When she reached out her hand it was his own she found and he held it as her time drew to a close. Shella smiling when he began to sing a soft song to her and welcoming that it was Jenny of Oldtsones that he chose.
"And she never wanted to leave, she never wanted to leave." the sound of his voice was comforting as she closed her eyes and breathed her last.
Storm's End 300 AC.
Ser Davos Seaworth.
Each day he spent with Shireen was a day he enjoyed and even more so now that Marya had come to stay at the keep with him. Dale despite his wish to remain on the Wraith had agreed to serve as castellan at Cape Wrath. Davos knew that his gooddaughter was more than pleased with that since it kept him on land with her and their babe. His first grandchild was a girl and though Marya had wished to stay and spoil her, his duties would keep him at Storm's End for many years to come and a keep was not a ship which meant that she could join him there.
He welcomed that truth be told as for far too many years he and his wife had seen each other only when he was not at sea and though he loved the Black Betha, he'd missed far too much over the years. His boys were growing, Devan, Stannis, and Steffon needed their father and they could be better educated at Storm's End than anywhere else. Shireen though, she was the daughter of his heart and the one he and Marya hadn't been blessed with. She was the light of his life in so many ways and for Davos being by her side and helping her any way he could. Watching her as she blossomed into the young lady she would one day become, there were the things he was most grateful for.
His relationship with Lady Selyse had changed over time because of Shireen and the lady's newfound faith in the red god. Selyse still kept mainly to herself but with him, she was polite and respectful now where once there was only ever scorn. As for the other knights and lords of Shireen's family, they too had come to see him in a different light. None more so than Lord Renly who was still some way from being the man he had once been, though that in of itself was not a bad thing. Between the Lord and Shireen herself they'd managed to gain far more of the king and queen's favor and so even more of their restrictions had been removed.
Taxes had been lifted, they were brought more and more into trade and in time the Stormlands, diminished though it was under Shireen's rule, would be in a far better place in terms of coin and prosperity at least. Their relationship with their vassals was far better too. Shireen had a knack for seeing what even he could not and knowing what a lord or lady truly desired. Never had this been more clear than with what she'd done for Lady Shyra and Lord Sebastion. It made him look forward to what each new day would bring, yet he had never expected this day to bring what it did.
"What do you mean there's a fucking dragon at the gates?" he asked Devan as he hurriedly dressed.
"The king, father, the King is here." his son said and Davos found his hand going to the pouch around his neck, worry in his features as he hurried from his and Marya's rooms.
By the time he reached the gates, the dragon was flying over his head and the king and Ser Arthur Dayne were walking in through them. Davos hurrying over to welcome them both and wondering what it was that had brought them here. That it was only the two of them and the dragon was now out of sight at least showed it to be a friendly visit. Though had it not been then he'd have no idea why that would be the case.
"Your grace, we'd not expected.." he said stumbling over his words while Devan looked at the King and the Sword of the Morning with an awestruck look on his face.
"Forgive me Ser Davos, my visit wasn't planned, I carry a letter from Lord Stannis to the Lady Shireen." the king said and Davos nodded.
As they walked to the courtyard he could see people hurrying and the king's frown, not at their tardiness he was soon to find out but that his arrival had caused such fuss.
"I remember when I was able to just go somewhere and people while polite made little fuss, I find I long for those days." the king said and Davos chuckled.
"The curse of position, your grace." he said getting a smile from the king.
"Your boy, Ser Davos, forgive me but I while knowing the names of your sons I don't know which is which." the king said looking at Devan.
"Devan, your grace." he said as Devan looked from him to the king and wondered why they were speaking about him.
"Devan, could you do a task for me?" the king asked and Devan nodded, Davos sure his son couldn't speak if he tried to "Could you let the Lady Shireen and anyone else who you come across know that a welcome isn't needed and that I'd very much appreciate them continuing about their day. Could you do that for me, lad?"
"Of course, your grace, at once, your grace." Devan said before running off once he'd nodded at him.
The king's smile grew broader as he watched Devan run to do as he had bid and by the time they reached the main hall, Shireen was sitting in her seat rather than having come outside to greet the king. Devan was standing with Steffon and Stannis and Davos smiled to see his wife holding their youngest by the hand.
"Storm's End is yours, your grace." Shireen said as while protocol may have been altered at the king's request it was not completely forgotten.
"I thank you, my lady." the king said "Please forgive me for the lack of forewarning, as my visit wasn't something I planned. If we may speak for in private for a moment then perhaps I can explain it far better?"
"Of course, your grace. Ser Davos could you show his grace to my solar." Shireen said and her voice sounded far more assured than the look on her face, Davos agreed to do as she asked and he offered her a warm smile which he hoped showed that there was no need to be concerned about the king's surprise visit.
It seemed to do the trick as by the time they reached the solar Shireen looked far more relaxed. The king turned down the offer of refreshments although he and Ser Arthur both accepted some water.
"I came for two reasons my lady. The first is to deliver this to you by mine own hand as I promised your father I would." the king said handing Shireen a letter.
"I think you, your grace." Shireen said her smile true as she held the letter in her hands.
"The second, your grace?" he asked a moment later when Shireen did not.
"Is something I'm not certain of the proof of and so I ask your indulgence. The ruby you wear, my lady, the one gifted by my aunt that protects against and hides the Greyscale. I believe it's no longer required and so I wonder if I can ask you to remove it?" the king asked and Shireen looked to him worriedly.
"Each time I've done so the Greyscale has returned. your grace." Shireen said.
"I am not completely certain but I believe this time it will not and that you'll not need to wear the ruby anymore. May I?" the king asked reaching out to take it from Shireen's neck.
Davos looked on as Shireen unclasped the chain and handed it to the king, the look of worry now even more pronounced in her face until she saw both his and the king's smile. As the king took the chain from her hand, her other hand reached up to touch her unblemished face and soon she too was smiling.
"How?" he asked.
"I found out the cause of Greyscale while in Essos, Ser Davos. A curse placed upon a prince of the Rhoyne and his people. I've lifted that curse and I believe the disease itself now no longer exists." the king said as Shireen looked at him.
"I'm cured? For true?" she asked and the king nodded.
"You are and though this is worthless now for that, I find I may have a use for it, so by your leave?" the king asked holding the ruby and the chain.
"Of course, your grace, I thank you, truly." Shireen said.
"There is no need to do so, cousin."
Though they offered to feast him the king made it clear that he wished to be back in King's Landing with his wife and daughter and so he bid them farewell and readied to leave the keep. He didn't make it all the way though as before he reached the courtyard he was asked if he would show them a spar. The request was made by two of his sons and Davos almost pulled them aside only to see the king smirk at Ser Arthur before agreeing to do so.
He stood in the middle of the courtyard with his wife and sons on one side of him and Shireen speaking to her mother on the other. When the king pulled out Blackfyre, Davos heard the intake of breath from all three of his sons, though it was even sharper one when Arthur pulled out Dawn. The spar took some time, the two swords flashing in the air, and coming perilously close he thought to injuring either the king or Ser Arthur. However not one drop of blood was spilled and eventually, the king yielded, his smile beaming as he did so, and then looked to his sons giving them a nod.
Then but a few moments later he was gone, the white dragon now heading towards King's Landing with the King and Ser Arthur on its back. Shireen sat on a wall reading the letter he brought her from her father and Davos saw her wipe a tear from her eye more than once. When she was done he walked over to her and found her mood to be a good one. The letter had been hard for her though and so he told her to take the day which was something she appreciated. The smile she gave him as she walked into the keep was one that he carried with him for the rest of the day. Later as he'd finished his own duties for the night, he found he'd very much enjoyed what the day had brought and he looked forward to the morrow.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed: Up Next Jae returns to King's Landing and as final preparations are made for the battles to come, people begin to say their goodbyes to those they love.
Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.
The Sphynx: You always manage to sum it up in the best way.
Puffgirl: It's all there so whichever way you enjoy reading it I'd go for.
Vdwade: We'll find out with the NK very soon, there is a big FB scene coming up soon regarding him. We're in the nitty-gritty of preparations and yep Lord/Garin in a tree lol. The Winter Crown is very important as we'll soon see, the truth about why Torrhen knelt and Brandon went east is soon to be shown.
VfSnake: Very much so, the price is the thing, how much is it going to cost him.
Emeradlduke: Glad you liked the flirting, it's hard to get it just right. The next couple of chapters may be hard on hearts as there are a lot of goodbyes to come.
Mvetter: So very glad you're enjoying it.
Guest: The Winter Crown plays a big part in the lore here, there is a reason why it's been left for Jae to basically claim. I know what you mean about Dorne, the thing with Ellaria/Oberyn is that to them it's not a lack of fidelity because they share things mostly, they look at the line between sex/love as very different. I think you have to have a very unique mindset to do so and what they do is with full consent of the other, so it's a different say from how Arianne is presented in the books for example. To me Oberyn/Ellaria as true a couple as can be, where others in Dorne not so much.
Xan Merrick: Thank you, my friend. I'm so happy you liked the Jae/Elia bit. Benjen really deserved some happiness and he, I think could only find it in this way. We're about to see all roads converge at the Wall and so the Cotr and others will soon be fighting beside Jae.
Celexys: I'm so glad you think so, I wondered if I was making the right choice with him, or if I was making a mistake, glad to see you think it's the right choice.
Keb:: It is, here we get another little example of it. I'm basically laying out the groundwork of what it can do, establishing it before we truly see it in action.
Hkt29: I hope so, the canon counterpart ended up basically a nothing. We'll see more of that with Garin later, he's not really focusing on the differences as such, more on what's to come but it will be a thing with him. In a way it does, won't say more than that.
Jman: Thanks so very much for saying that, it means a lot that you and others enjoy it.
Irish Hermit: I'm so glad you thoughts so, I had thought of having Ghost pop in right then but it just wouldn't work as he won't leave Elia/Marge's side. I can't say about the dragons or who may or may not make it. The next two chapters are goodbyes and arrivals/departures to and at the Wall, the first battle is 3 chapters away. It always bugs me when the prep isn't made for what may happen if you lose, I mean they don't expect to but this isn't an enemy you can surrender to and so there should be some prep made for just in case. They are almost as ready as they can be, more time would be good, but there's very little else they can do.
Xand007: Thank you, my friend. We're reaching that point, who knows perhaps in time to come there will be a sequel lol. I do wonder just what it is Beyond the Wall, like you I imagine the lands there with the NK gone would be among the wealthiest of the lot, so we'll see. Stay well my friend, stay safe and smile when you can.
Chapter 172 reviews.
Daryl Dixon: So happy you liked it.
The Sphynx: Bravos good Sir, Bravo. Very well done my friend.
Tfranco: So very glad you liked it, thank you for your kind words.
VdWade: One of the things I like to think is that people influence people, Arianne is how she is and Tyrion is how he is in canon because of the influences around them, change them and you can get something like this. I hinted at the bridge thing way back with the conversation between Jae and Loras just before Jae was attacked in the RL. There Loras wished to see the Freys removed and Jae said, you don't need to, just build more bridges. With Walder, he thought that he'd be rewarded with what he wished for without actually needing to ask. Roslin in a way sees that too, I wanted to show her own smarts, so yes she had her own reasons but there's nothing wrong with that, and given the life she lived at the Twins, can we blame her for wanting a better one. And as you say, she did what was right. On one hand, they'll see an opportunity, remember Dorne follows the Seven, on the other, they'll worry as two kingdoms (North being one) following other gods than they are an issue.
Vfsnake: The biggest issue with Walder burning is that he technically committed no crime, yes what he did was terrible but what crime was he guilty of. Offering the block or Wall to the others works but not so much to Walder as given his age it's a death sentence and some may not agree. It is closure though for Jae and the others.
Hkt29: Were it not for the conversation he had with Elia/Rhaella when he went to Valyria, seeing Elia being held by Marge and that calming him, and then having the time to come to a different conclusion then it would not have been.
We will see that in time with other Targs, the problem is that as of now the only one who can truly wield any is Shiera and with the others, it's both not knowing it and not having practiced it. Their power will increase the more magic there is as you rightfully say and so they will show some magical powers in time. I know, it was hard but at least it allowed them to give him a proper send-off. In an odd way, the Frey's gave them a gift. He could have yes.
Biohazard: So glad you liked it.
Guest: So glad you thought so, I thought it fitting also.
Emeralduke: It's something I've wondered for the longest time, just what was done with the body. It's suggested it was burned but it makes you wonder. Glad you thought that about the Freys.
Flame: So very glad you enjoyed it.
Scarilla: I was hinting that was going to be done way back since the attack in the Riverlands on Jae, he and Loras speak on it just before that attack.
Victoria: Thanks so very much, my friend. I'm glad you figured it out, sometimes you hope that there is enough that the leap can be made and so it's not obvious enough that it's not a surprise so you feel vindicated when someone gets there before the story in a way. The line between wolf/dragon, fire/Ice anger/calm is one that Jae has to learn to straddle. Each step has been a journey so that when he reaches a certain point, he's who he's supposed to be. Justice, not Vengeance is what he should be dispensing, but if you let anger rule then it's only the latter you seek. I'm glad you thought that with Roslin. I try to show as many different povs as I can without it taking away from the main story. So even when we're seeing a character who isn't hugely important it adds more than distracts to things. More his body is important to be put at rest, without that certain things can't be done.
Supremus: Technically it's not a crime, which is why the sentence was far less than it would have been any other time. The crime isn't holding the body it's attempting to use the body for gain. The Frey's have done a multitude of crimes he could convict them of, and even without an actual crime, it's in his power to remove a lord.
Guest: So glad you liked it. The Rhoynar thing was something I wanted to do for the longest time. Where it not for the path he's taken to get here and the timing of things then Jae would have been far less mature when it came to the Freys. Hope you like what the eighth kingdom will bring.
Jaimerey: No es una mala idea mi amigo, puedo muy bien considerarlo.
Remi: Indeed, though had this been an earlier time then he may not have promised her anything and just saw the keep burn.
Jman: Damn that's what I should have called it.
Creativo: Eso lo aprenderemos muy pronto, este puede no ser el final de las casas extintas.
Xan Merrick: Thanks my friend: Very much so, was this just a little earlier than the Twins would have burned.
Lady Octarina: As was said this will do the rounds far more than fire would have.
Irish Hermit: We'll see another glimpse of Walder in a bit. The road to here has been a long one for Jae and it's only by traveling that road he's able to rein in his temper. Had Elia not been born when he'd heard this then the Twins would have burned. Walder played up to his nickname "The Late Walder Frey" rather than reach out to Jae the moment he named himself as king and he may have received a reward for doing so, he waited, waited, seeking an even bigger advantage and he waited too long. As you saw Rhaegar wasn't to be buried, the Targs don't bury their dead. I've been a little remiss with Garin/Oberyn, we'll see some of it when they head to the Wall.
Xand007: Thank you, my friend. Hah, I've heard that about Cornwall, not Somerset though. Jae was only able to be restrained because of all he's been through, were this a different point in the story then he really wouldn't have been able to hold back. You too, stay safe, well, and smiling.