Author's Note:
Happy New Year! Thank you for all your comments and follows, they make me very happy. I am quite excited to hear your thoughts on this new chapter :)
Chapter 19: Dark Hours
Castle Darry, Riverlands, 283 AC
Lord Mace Tyrell pulled the sides of his cloak over his shoulders in the chilly morning air.
He could see his breath when he exhaled and when people conversed around him. The tip of his nose felt hard and frozen, so he massaged it with a warmer palm.
Soldiers and servants worked in a blur around him in Castle Darry's courtyard. Dornish sigils, sprinkled with flowery banners from the Reach, filled his vision of view.
Lord Randyll Tarly and Ser Olyvar Oakheart were at his side, overseeing the handover of Dorne's defences to troops from the Reach.
Ser Ryon Allyrion organized the castle's nighttime defences. He walked up to the Warden of the South and the Highgarden bannermen.
"I can explain the nighttime watchers before we ride."
"Ah, right. Ser Olyvar, I was going to ask you to take over for Ser Ryon." Lord Tyrell turned to his side.
"For sure, my lord." Ser Olyvar looked to the heir of Godsgrace. "After you."
Lord Mace watched the two climb up the worn stone staircase.
He didn't need to watch the preparations, but it was an important morning that he could not let himself miss. After marching and fighting with House Martell's banners for so long, it would take some getting used to once they are gone.
And the Dornishmen have made their intention to leave unequivocal since Lord Aerion returned from High Heart.
Yesterday's war council was the last straw, where both sides refused, yet again, to concede their position.
The Dornish noblemen and guards had stormed into the war council in their full armours. Thinking back to the scene, Lord Mace could very nearly hear Prince Oberyn's shouting in his ears.
Prince Oberyn had started with a recount of everything they've heard about King's Landing.
Tywin Lannister had brought ten thousand men and half of his Westerlands court to the capital. Expecting only Lord Tywin and his retinue to enter the city, the gold cloaks were caught by a surprise rush and surrendered the Lion Gate.
Every guard who did not immediately surrender was slaughtered by Lannister forces. Smallfolk and servants, suspected of relaying messages to Crownlands holdings, were similarly executed.
At the Red Keep, Grand Maester Pycelle personally opened the castle gates and presented to Lord Tywin captured members of the Small Council. Servants who closed chamber doors to slow down the plunder, or those unaware of where the royal family can be found, met violent deaths.
They had stared at the long table, or wrung their hands on their lap, taking in Prince Oberyn's speech in solemn silence.
The King had his throat slit by his own Kingsguard. Ser Jaime Lannister was by the King's side when the capital fell, and when Lord Tywin's men found him, his white cloak was stained by bright red.
The former Lord Hand walked past the dead King without pause and ripped out his son's cloak. He made the gathered Westerlands nobles greet Ser Jaime as once more the heir to Casterly Rock.
In a voice dripping with hatred, Prince Oberyn painted the horrific scenes that leaked from the breach of the Red Keep. His words weighed heavily on the nobles at the war council. Many, including the Lord of Highgarden, were too regretful to meet the Martell Prince's gaze.
It was said that the little Princess was stabbed so many times that the body had no more intact skin. Prince Aegon, who was not even two years of age, was unrecognizable after the atrocities. Some reports said that Gregor Clegane smashed the infant Prince's head into a wall, and spilled his brains across the thick woven carpet of his nursery.
More detailed reports say that the Crown Princess was supposed to be spared, but watching her children's deaths had sent her into madness. The Lannister men tried to escort her to be held with other ladies-in-waiting, but she resisted and fought and screamed.
When they tied her arms and carried her, she bit on Clegane's forearm hard enough to permanently scar the mad dog.
Prince Oberyn's words became thick with emotion and had tilted his head up to gather himself. Descending the steep staircases from the royal apartments, the Princess wrestled out of her captors' grasp and rolled down a full storey before guards managed to catch her. She was found bleeding from her forehead, and soon declared dead by the traitor Grand Maester.
The capital wept until there were no more tears. Wagons full of bodies were dumped outside of the city gates or into the Blackwater Bay. Prosecution of House Targaryen sympathizers continues, for Lord Tywin is determined to uproot the royal House from their own capital.
Prince Oberyn's spearpoint was mere inches from Lord Aerion's chest. Is he not haunted by his dead kin in his dreams? His ancestral seat has fallen to another House, and he is content to watch from the Riverlands, Oberyn had accused.
Prince Lewyn drew a lowered sword next to Oberyn. Ser Barristan stayed a step behind Aerion with a hand on the grip of his sheathed sword. But that was as far as either Kingsguard showed their stance.
Even where Lord Mace was sweating on down his robes for Lord Aerion's safety, Barristan the Bold did not intervene.
In a thundering yell, Prince Oberyn had demanded Ser Kevan Lannister and every Westerlands highborn at Castle Darry. His spear shook with rage and the sharpness of the edges made the Targaryen lord's leather tunic look incredibly fragile.
Worry overtook neutrality and the Lord of Highgarden stepped in to pull at Prince Oberyn's outstretched arm. His rank made him the only one who did not get shoved backwards by combative Dornish nobles.
The hot-blooded Prince from the hot-blooded lands was too strong. Lord Tyrell regretted not thinking of attending council in full armour himself and not reminding his bannermen to do the same.
While he concentrated on directing the Martell Prince's weapon at somewhere less fatal, Lord Aerion finally spoke.
The Lord of Stonedance steadily repeated what he has always been saying. Lord Mace remembers grimacing at the words because they were not what Dorne wanted to hear.
King's Landing will be taken back, but not before the rebel Great Houses surrender. There will be justice for the Westerlands' betrayal – no one guilty will be spared, but no one will be harmed without proper cause.
Execution on a whim, Lord Aerion reminded the war council, was how the war started. Here, there was reasonable doubt as to Ser Kevan and his retinue's knowledge of Lord Tywin's plans.
Lord Aerion assured the council that the Westerlands retinue was held in the most secure dungeons of Castle Darry, guarded by the host garrison and Crownlands troops who have served under Prince Rhaegar. There was no escape, nor will the prisoners hear any word of the outside world.
Guilty by association was enough cause, the Dornish Prince countered. The Westerlands party should be skinned alive and tossed on the Goldroad, to set an example of justified retribution.
Easy to say, but passing that sentence would feel so wrong, Lord Mace had thought. From the Trident's reserves, he had watched Lord Tywin's brother fight valiantly against Riverlands and Stormlands rebels; not to mention Ser Kevan's coordinated effort that secured High Heart's victory.
After some pause, Lord Aerion said that interrogation from outside the cells can be arranged, but the Prince must be accompanied by both himself and Lord Mace Tyrell. The Lord of Stonedance then looked plainly at the fuming Prince and did not intend to negotiate on that point.
Lord Mace remembers nodding along; he should be there to keep the peace, for these were some of the highest-ranking nobles in the realm, and their well-being moves the realm's future.
Prince Oberyn smacked his spear against the long table and laughed without a trace of amusement. A deep crack on the table appeared in front of the seated Targaryen lord when he raised the spear back up.
The Prince announced that his troops will be marching back to King's Landing. With their entire army from Castle Darry, they will have enough numbers to meet the Lannister defence.
Lord Aerion had suppressed a sigh and asked Prince Oberyn to reconsider. It wouldn't take long to settle the rebellion before turning their full attention to the Lannisters. At most at the turn of the moon, they could head south together.
Prince Oberyn only sneered. The nobles around the room kept their opinions to themselves, with nothing better to recommend to either commander.
With or without the full army, Dorne will be marching south. Prince Oberyn declared that the Princess and royal children's spirits cannot rest until the culprits have paid with their lives.
He won't let history forget what happened to the innocent mother and children. Each and everyone staying behind should be ashamed of their cowardice and apathy.
Lord Mace had wanted to point out the merit in Lord Aerion's plan but the Prince was clearly not in the mood to listen. As he hesitated, Dornishmen poured out of the drawing room and slammed the door behind them.
In the few hours before nightfall, Dorne's troops gathered all their weapons, armour, and supplies. After sunrise, they will be marching for the Kingsroad and then following it south.
Lord Mace Tyrell watched another Dornish House's garrison clear out of the small castle. So many fighting men were leaving, all while Eddard Stark was nearing Moat Cailin with fresh troops.
Running a hand through his hair, the Lord of Highgarden felt a rare sense of annoyance.
"Where is Lord Fossoway and the fresh troops he was leading?" He asked Lord Randyll.
"The last report says they're marching on the Roseroad, nearing Tumbleton. That was dated before the seizure of King's Landing."
"Tumbleton." Lord Tyrell furrowed his brows, "They've gathered at New Barrel since before the Trident. Before they could march, there was that delay from securing provisions. When they are finally on the way, every report has been about the Roseroad!"
"Randyll, Lord Aerion went and came back from High Heart, and Fossoway can't find a way out of the Reach." Lord Tyrell was looking to his bannerman for answers. "Tell me in truth, what is deficient that we can never be known for fearsome armies?"
"We could send another order to rush them, my lord." Randyll Tarly suggested. Lord Fossoway moves as quickly as contradictory orders reach him; it is already impressive that he is nearing the Crownlands border.
"Draft one and impress upon him the urgency." Lord Mace sighed. "Oberyn is pulling thousands of men south, what if we have to meet Eddard Stark and Riverrun?"
"The rebels will be on the defence after High Heart, and we have enough to fortify this castle." It was comforting to hear from Lord Tarly, "I won't let any harm come to you, my lord."
"You and Lord Paxter are good men, truly. You bring pride to the Reach, more than the likes of Fossoway can ever do." Lord Mace patted on his bannerman's bracer.
"We are honoured to serve, my lord."
He wanted to ask Randyll about the rumours that Lord Tywin had raised two more armies in the Westerlands, but banners of the red sun pierced by a gold spear joined the line-up for the gates.
Lord Mace sighed. "Here they come."
House Blackmont's garrison marched past first. Lord Mace pursed his lips and looked away from their ghastly sigil. There was no good reason to pick a vulture grasping a naked baby in its talons as a noble house's sigil, yet the Blackmont crests were staring him down.
He looked up again when the red suns neared.
Prince Oberyn sat stiffly on his horse. When avoiding the Lord of Highgarden was impossible, he nodded in greeting but did not slow his pace.
"Price Oberyn, my sincerest condolences for the Princess and her children." Lord Tyrell called out.
The Dornish Prince pulled to a stop and waited for the slightly chubby lord to cross the distance between them. His face was rid of emotion.
"We will settle matters here and come to your aid as quickly as we can. We are allied against the Lannisters; they've now sealed their defeat."
"Is that all, Lord Tyrell?" The Prince drew a breath and looked ahead. The rolling fields outside the castle gates were vast. Following the dirt path, they could reach the Kingsroad before midday.
Lord Mace cleared his throat, "You shouldn't run into any rebel armies on the Kingsroad. Once you pass Hayford, Lord Aerion had bid Lord Wendwater to meet you with updates on the capital…"
"Aerion is a nobody to Dorne, until he hands over Kevan Lannister and the five other Westerlands highborns."
Prince Oberyn's horse dug its heels into the dirt. House Martell retinue slowed behind their Prince.
Right. Lord Mace thought of how even without Ser Kevan, Lord Tywin had surrounded himself with loyal and capable vassals.
"Oberyn, do take care. Tywin is a dangerous enemy. Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan know the capital best, they will make great counsel to you."
Lord Mace had so much to remind the Prince. "The royal fleet still blockades the Blackwater Bay under Dragonstone's command, they will help us retake the capital. If you hear anything about Prince Viserys, whether he is captive or hidden, do send word and we can plan a rescue."
"With all those guards and noble retinue, they left the children behind and only managed to escort out the Queen." Prince Oberyn curled his lips in disdain.
"Her grace… was lucky to get found by the Master of Ships… after Pycelle surrendered the gates, it was thousands of Lannister infantry against a few hundred garrison."
"You know, when I close my eyes at night, I see the children running towards me, telling me they've missed me. So long as Tywin lives, that's all I can see."
Lord Mace bit on the inside of his cheek, regretting the flow of conversation. "My bannerman, Jon Fossoway, is leading almost eight thousand fresh troops towards the capital. I will send word to him to aid you however you need."
The Prince's expression softened slightly. "That will be appreciated."
"No trouble at all. I bid you and your men a safe journey."
Prince Oberyn nodded back at the Lord of Highgarden. Kicking his horse to a trot, he never looked back at Castle Darry when he rode out.
House Allyrion's banners were the last of the formation. After they were a hundred paces onto the dirt road, the castle gates started to close shut.
Lord Tyrell can't imagine what is awaiting the Dornish legion at King's Landing.
Tywin Lannister governed as Lord Hand for almost twenty years. His influence in the capital is stronger than any other noble that he could probably fortify the capital as his own stronghold.
The Seven have mercy, if Tywin claims the Iron Throne for himself on the morrow, he will probably see very little resistance from a city that admires him as much as fears him.
When Prince Oberyn congregates with their remaining allies on land and the royal fleet at sea, their armies will be roughly equal. The royalists will not have enough manpower to besiege, whereas the Westerlands army will be reluctant to forfeit the capital's defensive walls.
At least Dorne pressuring Lord Tywin in the Crownlands cuts off his path of retreat to the West.
How terrible Queen Rhaella must feel, alone on Dragonstone, in mourning. Prince Rhaegar passed only moons ago and now her youngest has gone missing, possibly perished like her grandchildren. Sometimes being the one in safety comes with the greatest heartache.
For what seemed like a lifetime ago, he once held the adorable little Princess at a King's audience. He never got to meet Prince Aegon, but his bannermen at the Prince's birth spoke of how strong and well-behaved he was.
The Lord of Highgarden grieved them with the rest of the realm.
"Let's head back." Lord Mace saw that Lord Randyll and Ser Olyvar joined him.
The breach of the Red Keep was a devastating shock to the royal House. But in a strange sense, Lord Mace had a feeling that the House of Dragon will not fall from here.
On the day they arrested Ser Kevan, the Lord of Stonedance arrived fresh with a great victory. They had expected him to react with anguish, rage, or in ruthless vengeance; they observed, carefully, the only face of his House since they lost the Crown Prince.
He started by asking Lord Wendwater's messengers to repeat everything they knew. He betrayed no trembling hands nor hesitated on questions; if he felt panic after the shock, it was well-hidden.
Lord Aerion waited for Prince Oberyn's demands to quiet. With equal parts solemnity and firmness, he ordered the Westerlands nobles to be held with the rest of their captives.
His voice sounded the same as before, but his words carried more weight. Between him, the grieving Queen Rhaella, and Maester Aemon at Castle Black, it dawned on the gathered nobility that they might be staring at the future of the royal House.
That day, Lord Mace watched Stonedance guards wheel in the covered wagon where they laid the Lord of Storm's End. After days on the road, the body swelled and dried again, leaving deep wrinkles down the neck and further under the armour.
After each noble had a chance to confirm the Storm Lord's identity, Lord Aerion ordered Robert Baratheon's cremation.
From opposing sides of the war, one commander lay dead while the other stood, judicious and poised, announcing their next war council.
Lord Aerion would bring a fine future, given the turn of events. Lord Mace shook his head before his thoughts went too far. The next heir was Prince Viserys, of course, and Lord Aerion never showed any intention for that position.
Aerion could hardly hear anything other than his footsteps walking through the wet and mouldy passage. His torch flickered as cold air brushed past him, sometimes leaving him in complete darkness.
Beneath Castle Darry's courtyard, deeper than the dungeons and almost reaching House Darry's ancient crypts, Aerion faced an intercepting hallway. It was just as dark as the one he came from, offering no clues as to where it could lead.
If he remembered Raymun's instructions properly, after those turns he took, there shouldn't be a hallway here.
He habitually turned to look around. He was quickly reminded that he couldn't see anything past the glow of the torch.
With a small sigh, Aerion continued in his path and hoped that it would take him to where he needed to go.
On occasion, he heard echoes of the noises from activities above. But no one should have reason to venture onto this level, as even the storerooms are unused.
In the main parts of the castle, the Dornish army was packing to march out. With such an urgent order from Prince Oberyn, nearly all of House Darry's servants have been enlisted to prepare their provisions and weapons.
The entire night, soldiers, maids, and noblemen harried between castle towers and the courtyard, keeping most of the castle awake.
If he finishes early, he might catch the last of them leave. The sun would be up by then, and he would have ample reason to head to the great hall instead of worrying about being seen.
Frustrated that he still couldn't find the room, Aerion picked up his pace through the maze-like corridors.
He knew he found the right room where soft light spilled from beneath a set of closed doors. He stepped inside the peculiarly tight space.
After closing the doors behind him, Aerion fixed his torch within an empty holder on the side wall. He made way to the one empty stool.
"Thank you for making such a quick trip." He said to the greying man across from him.
"Lord Aerion, we were very glad to hear that you are well, after High Heart." The man stood to greet him. "I regret pulling you away; it sounds like an inconvenient morning."
Rory still had the same look from a decade ago. Not everyone has it in them to serve Lord Gawen continuously since the latter became Stonehelm's lord. In Rory's case, thirty years onwards, Rory-without-a-surname is trusted enough to even govern in Gawen Swann's absence.
Aerion shrugged. "I'm eager to hear from Lord Gawen."
"Of course, and his lordship did bid me to bring you updates about Massey's Hook at once." Rory transitioned to a lower tone. "We heard about High Heart and the Capital within two days. Being under our siege, Sharp Point is ignorant of both and has been rationing their garrison's provisions. As I rode for Castle Darry, Lord Gawen planned to feed Robert Baratheon's death to the Bar Emmons, which we expect will prompt their surrender."
"We haven't found a way to free Baelor first? How do we even know he is safe?"
"Lord Baelor is likely held underground, my lord. Lord Gawen had soldiers monitoring every castle window – if Lord Baelor isn't restrained, we should know the tower or chamber by now." Rory explained, "We demanded that Gunthor Bar Emmon appear at the top of his walls with Lord Baelor every midday to prove Lord Baelor's safety. Lord Gawen promised not to attack if the schedule is kept; the alternative was to burn Sharp Point to the ground with wildfire."
Aerion clenched and relaxed his fist to his side. He knew Gunthor would choose an armistice over an attack, but he still didn't like a threat that involved putting Baelor at risk.
Stonedance was his grandfather's castle while he and Baelor are both away. To know of the wildfire stores, Lord Gawen had to either search the castle or interrogate his officials.
"How long can Gunthor last, if he doesn't surrender to the news?"
"Another fortnight, maybe a handful more days. We've been bribing guards and servants to leave their posts. Enough of them corroborated the report." The corner of Rory's lips pulled to a smirk, "They've no smugglers; no one is getting past the royal fleet, our defences, or those cliff walls."
"My brother must return to Stonedance safely. I don't care about anything else."
"Lord Gawen and all of us feel the same." Rory's smile was supposed to be reassuring. "Within another week, we can deliver news of Storm's End's surrender. Gunthor will have no choice but to follow suit."
"What about the Lannisters? They could entice Gunthor with foolish promises from King's Landing." Aerion narrowed his eyes.
"No word from anywhere reaches Sharp Point." Rory added offhandedly after a pause, "Lord Grandison has been patrolling the vicinity with his men; quite a helping hand to your grandfather, he has been."
Aerion felt a lot better, knowing the affection Lord Hugh held for Baelor.
"Again, Lord Dondarrion is confident that Storm's End will fall?"
"The Baratheon household has been relying on smuggled sustenance. Lord Harmon caught the smuggler and his mob, and threw their heads back into the castle." Rory leaned against the stone wall, "Even if they have extraordinary will, they will soon be crushed by High Heart's defeat."
Aerion's thoughts raced in his mind. How easy would it be for House Swann to claim that the Baratheon brothers were too stubborn to surrender?
An extinct House could not hold a Lord Paramount title, and in the royal House's troubling position, he needed the Baratheons to balance out House Swann's rise.
"When Storm's End surrenders, I will announce to the war council that Stannis Baratheon is our captive. He will be bending the knee to the Iron Throne for his House, along with the other rebel Great Houses, at the Red Keep." Aerion looked to Rory, "Renly will foster at Stonehelm until my grandfather feels he is fit to be independent. For however long that may take, Storm's End will pay a fourth of its income to House Swann for Renly's care."
Rory's polite smile is unchanged. "I will inform both Lord Gawen and Lord Dondarrion of your intentions when I return."
"Thank you. And I am keen to hear any news from Massey's Hook, so do send messengers every few days."
"I will convey that as well."
They arrived at a pause. The next topic was going to be harder, and Aerion had been getting very little sleep over it.
"The breach of the Red Keep came as a surprise, I will admit that." Aerion ventured. "But we have good momentum to take the capital back. House Lannister will owe our allies a great amount of reparations when this is all over."
"True enough. If the Lannisters have to fight against all three allied Kingdoms, Tywin will have trapped himself in the Crownlands, outnumbered." Rory replied.
He is as hard to talk to as Lord Gawen.
Aerion leaned forward, "Prince Oberyn is marching south to block Tywin's retreat. When I have Eddard Stark, Hoster Tully and Jon Arryn's formal surrenders, I will head back to retake King's Landing."
Rory tapped his fingers on the side of his knee.
Aerion took a breath and continued. "Lord Gawen and his bannermen should join me then; those who betrayed the Crown will be duly punished, and those who helped bring peace will be recognized for their meritorious service."
"What Tywin Lannister proposes, is a different future." Rory drawled. "Maybe he has been discussing with the Great Houses for some time, but we've only heard, along with select noblemen across the realm, after he seized the capital."
Aerion kept his voice curious, "Oh? These were messages directly from Lord Tywin?"
Tywin claiming the Crown for himself would be short-sighted. The Westerlands had the least cause for revolt out of all the rebellious Kingdoms; coupled with murdering women and children to clear his path, the move will forever stain the Lannister name.
"Directly from Westerlands representatives. And I can endeavour to summarize for your consideration." Rory confirmed. "Lord Tywin proposes a restoration of sorts, to before the Conquest. No longer will there be a royal House; the Great Houses will rule independently, and the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands will carve up the Crownlands."
"Interesting. He is not usurping the Iron Throne." This was more dangerous than Tywin taking the throne.
Looking at likely defeat, the rebel Great Houses won't be opposed to working with Tywin. Removing Princess Elia's children meant that Dorne had no more interest in protecting a Targaryen royal House. If the Reach then decides ruling by themselves is better than ruling under a King –
The Targaryen dynasty will collapse, and that's the end of it.
"Oh no, he is counting on the support of his fellow nobility, so he can't be a head higher than everyone else." Rory said smoothly. "Lord Tywin claims that he chased out House Targaryen for good. Now is the time – when your House opposes half of the realm in incurable strife – to do away with the dynasty."
"Lord Tywin forgets that he just slaughtered Crownlands households and Dornishmen while their keeps and armies are close by. He will lose the capital to retaliation."
"Our friends south of the Red Mountains say that Lord Tywin's delegation reached Sunspear bearing House Lannister's amends. Apparently, Princess Elia was supposed to be returned to Dorne; just that the royal children had to be eliminated."
"That sounds more insulting than friendly," Aerion said coolly.
"Maybe, but an offer to betroth Tywin's only daughter to Ryon Allyrion is intriguing. House Allyrion is a major house that can speak directly to Doran, and we know Doran would rather not meddle. It's also an easy rift in favour of Tywin within Oberyn's army."
Rory is right and Aerion had to accept that Lord Tywin's strategy is well-considered. There were also rumours of two more armies, gathering at Golden Tooth and Deep Den respectively, ready to relieve the Lord of Casterly Rock from Crownlands threats.
Aerion couldn't help but sound irritated. "Still, he underestimates almost three centuries of Targaryen rule and influence, doesn't he?"
Rory shook his head, "I mean no offence in my words, my lord. I merely present what the rebels have known, what the Westerlands have been planning, and what Lady Olenna and Doran Martell must have learned at their ancestral seats. Tywin has been sending messengers all around to ask for support or neutrality."
"I do appreciate that. We always need to understand the enemy's position, before moving to defeat it." Aerion allowed a smile.
Rory raised an eyebrow before chuckling, "Those are wise words. Though I dare say Lord Gawen has been concerned that at least some Houses will feel tempted to entertain these proposals; the rebels will be content to see your House fall, and if the Reach wavers… well, they do make up most of your fighting army."
"My House still commands my castle, Dragonstone and the royal fleet. The Crownlands is loyal to us."
"The holdings truly under your control cannot provide for a fleet for long. Without dragons and without sure allies, House Targaryen will have enough to defend itself, but certainly not enough to rule Westeros."
Through hardship and turmoil, his House has always persisted. They won't be losing their birthright.
"I hold thousands of Westerlands soldiers, Ser Kevan, and heirs to Tywin's bannermen. Tywin can either surrender or see all of their heads on spikes. I also have Hoster Tully and Jon Arryn; surely I can move the Riverlands and the Vale with them." Aerion pointed out, "As for the Reach, I trust I have Lord Mace's full support."
"The foot soldiers were never a problem, Tywin is prepared to raise tenfold more fighters. He actually spoke to the risk to his kin – he says that it will be truly regretful, but not unexpected. When madness comes from your bloodline, murdering those who saved your life wouldn't feel unconscionable." Rory sounded like he was reciting the message. "You have but two frail old men in Tully and Arryn; executing them would free their bannermen to openly support Tywin."
Rory paused in his words to scratch the back of his neck. "Lord Mace is impressed with you, sure, but Lady Olenna can recall those troops whenever she likes. You can't put a sword to their liege's neck, and then force the bannermen to fight for you."
Aerion held Rory's gaze. The older adviser to Lord Gawen calmly returned the look.
Minutes passed and Aerion let out a sigh in front of the benign-looking man. "You wouldn't be here if there weren't a way through this. Why keep me in suspense?"
Rory showed his usual gentle smile, the one that was hard to pinpoint whether he was genuine. "My lord, Lord Tywin is using the Mad King, and by extension, a tyrannical dynasty, to frighten the nobles into line. He is necessarily overlooking how the realm can be intimidated by him."
"You're right about this army at Castle Darry falling apart. All I have is words. My words, against Tywin's reputation and Lannister gold." Aerion said honestly.
"There have been eleven Targaryen Kings since the last dragon." Rory noted, "The Iron Throne mandates peace in its own way, not just with the strength of dragons."
Aerion considered for a bit. "Lord Gawen believes it will work?"
"Lord Gawen suggests it's worth a try. Start with the rebel Great Houses. With each noble bending the knee to you, you ingrain the supremacy of the royal House."
Aerion pursed his lips in thought.
If he fails, Tywin's new allies will do their best to capture and kill him. Dragonstone, with its fortifications, will be the only refuge for the Queen, Viserys, if he is even alive, and Baelor. And Rhaegar and Lyanna's newborn, if the babe is lucky enough to survive the unrest.
"I am grateful for grandfather's support. House Swann has been essential to the Targaryen cause, and I will see to fitting recognition, honour, and gains when we are out of this mess."
Rory sat up from his slouch. "Part of why I came is to set expectations, Lord Aerion."
The Stonehelm adviser shifted in his seat. "The Kingdoms will have to be swayed to your House individually. It will not be easy, as Lord Tywin knows what persuades each House and matched them with what he can offer; be it gold, power, hatred, or honour."
"Lord Gawen directed me to clarify that we naturally support your claim." Rory was choosing his words carefully, "But if the general sentiment turns in favour of Tywin, House Swann cannot afford to be an oddity and target."
"Of course not." Aerion tilted his chin for Rory to continue.
"There is no way to use prettier words, so the idea is this." Rory said, "If there is overwhelming support for Tywin, we will side with him on the condition that the realm recognizes House Swann as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Lord Gawen trusts that out of safety, you will settle on Dragonstone... but Baelor is still young and can foster at Stonehelm – we have enough weight to protect a child, so you needn't worry."
"When Lord Baelor is grown and the old lion has passed, we will have a new generation of the nobility and new smallfolk levies. House Swann will wholeheartedly support another campaign to restore Targaryen rule from the mainland itself."
If he fails and dies, his brother will be the next pawn.
Aerion replayed Rory's words in his head. "You said my claim."
Rory blinked to catch what Aerion was referring to. "Your claim to the Iron Throne, yes. You are the elder line from King Maekar I, you led at the Trident and at High Heart –"
"Prince Viserys is before me. It was said that the Queen might be with another child." The babe in Dorne, if it's a boy, will be ahead of him too.
"I can assure you that Lord Gawen did not make all these arrangements to see Mad Aerys's descendants on the Iron Throne." Rory scoffed. "The future you are offering is a clear and hopeful one. Negotiate as the future King and give the lords of Westeros a viable option in your House."
Aerion frowned and said nothing.
"I'll leave you to think on it." Rory got to his feet. "I should go before getting seen. In a few days, Lord Gawen's formal party to congratulate your victory will be here; let them take back any messages."
Rory grabbed his torch from one of the holders and turned to Aerion a last time. "We await the good news of the rebellion's surrender, Lord Aerion."
He pulled open the door without a squeak and walk into the dark corridor. A fresh breeze of wetness and coolness entered the cramped room.
When Rory's footsteps faded away, Aerion grabbed his torch from the wall mount. The precarious politics of the realm played in his mind as he took the same route to return.
The quietness within the castle told him that the Dornish army had left. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his mind before climbing up the last set of stairs to reach the courtyard.
Where he appeared was where he would walk past everyday, coming down from his quarters. Seeing he didn't catch any particular attention, he made his way to the great hall.
The nobles and servants mumbled greetings when they saw him. No one wanted to attract the ire of the Lord of Stonedance that morning, since he was presumably both mourning his kin and angry over Prince Oberyn's decision.
As he broke his fast in the great hall, the nervous nobles kept themselves to mild topics and watched for his every frown and sigh. Lorent sat next to him and directed away the conversation before he needed to answer.
Not making small talk was a blessing, since he needed to disentangle his thoughts and arrive at a strategy. He truly missed Lord Rambton and his officials from Stonedance; he will have to train Ser Colin as an adviser akin to Ser Grant, but that's not something one could rush to achieve.
He used to have Ser Barristan for counsel, but the Kingsguard decided to ride south with Prince Lewyn and the Dornish party.
Ser Barristan didn't explain his decision, but Aerion could understand.
The Kingsguards now owe their duty to Queen Rhaella and to the heir of the Iron Throne. Prince Viserys being missing under Tywin's control does not mean they shouldn't try to rescue him. Even if rescue efforts fail, the knight should join Ser Jonothor on Dragonstone to guard the Queen.
"I am sorry my lord, for Prince Oberyn's decision." Lady Vivianna's gentle voice came from in front of him.
Aerion looked up from his plate and realized that people have been filing out after their meal. The head table only had him and Lorent remaining.
"You are kind, my lady." Lorent replied for him with a smile.
"I'm afraid I don't know how I can be of help…" Lady Vivianna hesitated, "Perhaps Riverrun will respond well to a peace-making delegation. I could go with William and Myles can stay… Lord Mallister there is a cousin by a great-aunt."
"I appreciate it, but it's not worth the risk." Aerion used a softer tone.
"There must be something to be done. Will Lord Arryn be moved by his bannermen? If we can talk some sense into them…" Vivianna bit down on her lip.
"I honestly don't know what Jon Arryn wants to hear." Aerion set his napkin by his empty plate. "I apologize, but my captain of the guards is waiting for me. Lorent?"
"Right, we should get going." Lorent finished his drink and stood.
She nodded understandingly and stepped back, "Of course, my lords. Good day to both of you."
They excused themselves and took the small exit off of the head table.
When they turned onto the main corridor, Lorent clicked his tongue, "She fancies you. She was unsure whether she should come up, and she did right before we would leave."
"She is kind is all, Lorent."
Lorent chuckled, "Why not accept her affections? The Mootons are fiercely loyal, she is beautiful and one of the rare highborn ladies, willing to come help in a war."
"You're reading too much from it." Aerion shook his head, "It's also hardly the time and place. If Tywin is planning an army to march out of Golden Tooth, we will need scouts in the southern Riverlands. I'd worry about that first."
Lorent smirked at the change of subject but did not press on it.
"That's simple. Send word to all the lesser holdings by the hill road. Anyone who dutifully reports Westerlands movements will be forgiven for their role in the rebellion."
"You don't think we need our own scouts?" Aerion asked.
"We will, but not that far out." Lorent thought about it. "It only takes one landed knight or minor lord to send word. We will keep watch around Riverrun and Castle Darry as usual."
"That could work."
"I'll ask Rykker for his thoughts." Lorent paused at a door to the courtyard, "I want to check on our patrolling riders. You are heading back?"
"I am. Lord Tyrell wants to discuss provisions in the afternoon, I can send someone for you."
Lorent nodded in acknowledgement and left.
Back in his chambers, Aerion had called Raymun to find him a wide oakwood table. The full map Prince Rhaegar brought to Sow's Horn now laid on top of it.
The names of each castle and House were identified in coloured ink. In the background behind the borders and roads of the Seven Kingdoms, rivers and forests were marked with impressive accuracy.
Aerion spent the time studying the massive map, remembering the alliances between the names, the lords and ladies who headed the Houses, and unfortunately, whether the larger keeps had blood feuds with the Iron Throne.
He strode around the table as he examined one idea to the next.
He wasn't worried about Oberyn as compared to Doran Martell. Even though it was the Lannisters who raided the Red Keep, protecting Princess Elia and the children was House Targaryen's undeniable responsibility. There was also Rhaegar upsetting his wife with his involvement with Lyanna Stark.
The Reach could see rich gains if there is no longer a royal House. They could keep all of their tax levies, and resume selling foodstuffs to the North at ridiculous prices.
With his two normal children, Tywin could take away his allies. His daughter betrothed to some Dornish House, and Jaime Lannister wed to Janna Tyrell, Lord Mace's sister.
Someone knocked at his chamber doors. Aerion turned his head, wondering why he was being bothered when he bid Ser Colin not to let anyone seek him.
"Come in, what is it?"
"I hope I'm not interrupting." The door pushed open to reveal a fully armoured knight.
Aerion raised an eyebrow at Ser Barristan. "I thought you were riding south."
"I did ride south. I met with Ser Brune on our behalf. With all those eyes on you, it wouldn't be discreet if you left Darry." Ser Barristan said. "I've thought about it. My place is here, if you will have me."