A/N: Oh, it's good to be back! With that, it's time for a new chapter, and the start of the Great Council arc. In this we have reunions, plans, and plots, plots, and plots to go around, and the start of a dramatic arc. The gloves are officially off as of this arc, and I know I've teased it, but…there will be death, and it will not be pretty for certain characters, even if a mega-alliance is on the rise. Have fun with the chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it!
ROBB VII
"Are we certain that we are going to use the terms—" Margaery asked, but was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger. Exhaustion filled her eyes, but she had insisted on riding with Robb as opposed to a wheelhouse despite the recent bouts of nausea and fatigue that had plagued her.
"Your Graces! The scouts have reported that Bitterbridge is within sight!" The messenger said excitedly.
"Thank you, ser, your message is appreciated." Margaery replied brightly, as the sight of the colorful banners slowly appeared over the horizon, and what a sight it was.
Banners fluttered in the wind, in every different color of the rainbow, carrying sigils of what seemed to be hundreds of houses appearing on cloth, representing a levy force of thousands of soldiers. Though the keep itself was not used, the varying campsites were clearly grouped by region, as the largest group of camps, and the majority of banners were that of the Reach, camped near one another. Dorne grouped within another area, and the Stormlands (to Robb's surprise), grouped in a third area of the camps, leaving a space conveniently open for a fourth area to set up the campsites for the banners of the North.
Spurred by the sight of Bitterbridge, Robb and Margaery cantered their horses to bring them to the front of the delegation, aiming for a dignified arrival to the Tyrell delegation that would be hosting the Great Council, but Grey Wind had different ideas.
Ears perked and sight locked onto the horizon, Grey Wind seemingly found what he was looking for and suddenly took off, running as fast as he could towards a distant figure.
"Grey Wind!" Robb shouted, and proceeded to push his horse forward after the direwolf.
As Robb chased his erstwhile direwolf, he noticed Ghost lopping off towards the distance as well, with Jon in hot pursuit.
"Why are they running?!" Robb hollered to Jon, as he caught his horse up to Jon.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Jon hollered back. "JUST KEEP GOING!"
But Robb noticed the two direwolves converging on a single source, jumping on the distant figure, and his heart nearly stopped at the sight. Even the happy tail wags and barks from the direwolves could not distract Robb and Jon from the sight of the figure in front of them.
"ROBB! JON!" Sansa shouted, as both Starks quickly stopped their horses and dismounted, barely before Sansa, running as fast as she could toward them, engulfed the two in a bone-crushing hug. Tears rapidly fell from Robb's eyes as the feeling of rightness, the feeling of home, positively filled Robb.
"You're safe," Robb whispered wondrously, as he held onto Sansa and Jon. "You're back with us."
Robb let go on Sansa and hastily wiped away the tears out of his eyes, and saw a few things: Margaery's embrace with her family, the teary words Loras whispered into Margaery's ears, the Tyrell delegation and the Northern delegation pretending to ignore the emotional reunions occurring in front of them, and a man standing close to Sansa with silvery-gold hair and violet eyes, staring longingly at…Jon?
"I am pleased to see House Stark and House Tyrell hale and hearty," the man said quietly, after noticing Robb's stare. "I presume that you must be King Robb Stark?"
Robb nodded absently.
"You must be King Aegon VI," Robb replied smoothly. "I apologize for the informal meeting - I had planned to meet your retinue in a more formal setting before the council."
King Aegon smiled at him and gave him a conspiratorial look.
"Truth be told, I slipped my guards to see the Northern delegation myself. I was especially curious of my half-brother, and Sansa's relatives as well, including the King in the North."
King Aegon seems more familiar with Sansa than I would like, Robb thought, unconsciously tensing. This may…complicate plans unnecessarily.
Margaery's fingers slipped into his and she smiled at the delegation.
"Your Grace! I apologize for the…informal meeting. Let us begin proceedings more formally," she said, her tears dried and her formal mask on.
Sansa and Margaery shared a look between one another, and Margaery acquiesced to Sansa's introduction.
"Your Grace, this is my brother, King Robb Stark, King of the North and Riverlands, also known as the Sly Wolf, and Robb, this is King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Realm, also known as the Young Dragon."
Neither Robb nor anyone else in the various delegations missed Sansa's omission of the title "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms", nor of the implications that came with it. But rather than seeming slighted, Aegon nodded approvingly at Sansa and both men shook hands before returning to their formation.
Sansa then looked to Margaery.
"My good-sister, Queen Margaery of House Tyrell, Queen of the North and Riverlands, also known as the Sharp Rose", and Margaery curtsied to King Aegon.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I have been told that you have been a great comfort to my dearest good sister, and a wonderful guest for House Tyrell, and we thank you for that," Robb's love stated warmly.
"Finally, Prince Aemon of House Stark." Sansa announced smoothly. "Your…half-brother, Your Grace."
Jon bowed, and awkwardly attempted to extend a hand for a handshake, but was swept away as Aegon strongly embraced him, with tears in his eyes.
"I have heard plenty about you from Sansa…Brother," Aegon said, his voice cracking with emotion at the last bit. From Robb's viewpoint, he could see Jon's eyes clouding with emotion as well.
"It is good to meet you as well…Brother," Jon replied warmly, as they embraced for a long moment. Eventually, as both men released themselves from the embrace, Robb knew he had to end the proceedings and set up his camps.
"Thank you, everyone, for meeting us at the camps. Lords Umber and Karstark, please settle the Northern delegation nearby Lords Mallister, Bracken, and Blackwood, please do the same for the Riverlands delegations. We will settle in and prepare for the Great Council, as we are the last guests to arrive." Robb announced.
"Yes, Your Grace!" The men chorused, and all delegations set off to allow Robb's delegation time to settle.
Much later, after the camps had been settled, and Robb had acclimated himself, he decided to catch up on some much-needed letter writing to his mother up North, as well as time spent strategizing for his campaign. However, as he prepared himself to sit at his makeshift desk, he heard the tent flaps open.
"Grandson!" Robb heard a voice call out sharply behind him.
Robb reacted in shock, nearly jumping backward, before noticing the wizened form of Lady Olenna.
"My-….My Lady Olenna!" Robb stuttered quickly, before re-composing himself. "I mean, my Lady Good-Grandmother! What brings you to my tent today?"
"Spare me the pleasantries, boy, and call me 'Grandmother', you are married to my grand-daughter, are you not?" The newly revealed Queen of Thorns said wryly. She then raised her eyebrows. "Can a grandmother not have a short discussion with her grandson in marriage?"
"And is this discussion on behalf of House Tyrell and the Reach, or is this discussion merely between the both of us only, Lady Grandmother?" Robb fired back, annoyed at the interruption. "My lady wife is asleep out of exhaustion from managing the camps, and my siblings are out exploring the war camps, and only a fool would not see the conspicuous timing you have chosen, to approach me in private, away from the influence of others."
The Queen of Thorns let out a barking laugh, before arranging her face into a more neutral position.
"I had my doubts in the beginning, but it seems as though my granddaughter did not choose a fool to crown King." Olenna remarked, to which Robb let out a wince. "Oh, do not give me that look, grandson, dear Margaery put you in an immensely beneficial position by crowning you King in the North and Riverlands, even if your Stark sensibilities are telling you to shirk that responsibility. There is power and influence in that, and that will be all the more necessary if we are to position House Tyrell and House Stark in a beneficial position after the war."
Robb nodded reluctantly.
"Guards!" Robb called out, and the bodyguards standing in front of the tent came in.
"Yes, Your Grace?" the man asked.
"Seal this room. Ensure that this tent is not to be disturbed, save for the Queen, and the Queen only." Robb ordered, and the guard nodded, exiting the tent and closing the flap.
The Queen of Thorns nodded approvingly.
"Forgive me for asking - how much has my granddaughter told you about her…unique situation?" Lady Olenna asked almost delicately.
"Certainly more than she's told you, my lady grandmother," Robb replied acerbically. "We both know that there is a storm brewing, and that our decisions at this council will determine the future for our houses and the Realm at large, and…no offense, I would much prefer to be known as "King for a Moon"-
"-And run back to Winterfell and rule your lands as a humble lord, content to ignore events occurring below the Neck in favor of preparing for the Long Night, yes yes," Lady Olenna finished mockingly. "Forgive me Grandson, but Northern isolationism has not worked as a viable solution for the North, nor will it continue working for the North at the precipice of the longest winter the North has seen for ages."
The Queen of Thorns made a tsk sound, tapping her cane.
"You seem to forget that you are sworn King of two realms, and backed in marriage to another realm. You have the power to determine Kingship, and if you truly wanted it, you could claim the Reach through your marriage to Margaery, force King Aegon VI through the combined military might of the Reach, North, and Riverlands to take Lordship of Dragonstone, and crown yourself upon the Iron Throne."
Her voice took a darker tone, as she continued. "Or perhaps the young dragon king would suffer an accident that would allow Jon Stark to claim Dragonstone and the Crownlands for himself, and the dragon girl, dead in Essos. You need not worry about Dorne either - Doran Martell would not be happy, but his gout will claim him soon enough, and your goodbrother Willas will be consort to the next ruler of Dorne. You need but say the word, and I can have you crowned as King on the Iron Throne, Your Grace. What say you to this proposal?"
"My father lost his head as Hand in King's Landing, and my grandfather and uncle were burned by Mad King Aerys. Even Cregan Stark realized the pitfall of the Iron Throne, and left for Winterfell after the Hour of the Wolf. Starks do not do well in the South—"
"But your lady wife is a canny ruler, schooled in court politics at my knee, with knowledge that she should not know. You can play with swords and ride in tourneys like King Robert, and leave the ruling to your lady wife and Garlan or Willas as Lord Hand—" Olenna rebutted.
"We both know Daenerys Targaryen and her three dragons are in the distance, and they would not hesitate to burn us—"
"Not so, grandson." The Queen of Thorns interrupted. "My spies, as well as official word from the Young Dragon have indicated that Daenerys Targaryen has birthed a healthy babe into the world, rather than three dragons, and has claimed him to be the 'Stallion that Mounts the World'. Essos will face their own reckoning soon enough, and she will not be a threat—"
"But the Long Night would be, without any dragonriders nor dragons to combat the forces of the White Walkers. We would be dead in moons, and lose our only hope for victory - I have seen it!" Robb replied heatedly. "The squabbles of the Realm do not matter in the face of a major threat, and House Tyrell will be rewarded with plenty of influence and renown so long as it survives. You will have a Queen in a generation, and a King the generation after that, if our planning works out, so why jeopardize that with a short-term victory? Perhaps, House Tyrell will rule for another 8000 years if we succeed, as opposed to a mere generation."
The Queen of Thorns acceded to his points, but had a final objection left in her. "You say you have seen it? Surely Margaery could not transmit her visions to you–"
"But I have the Sight as well, Grandmother, and I have seen it - that is why I went into a coma the day after my wedding. I have seen every world fall to ice and death, even the ones where I rule, and I fear that the world where we win will need every advantage we will get. Without dragonriders, there is simply no advantage on the side of the living. We get a generation, if King Aegon survives and rules as King, but without the dragons, we do not stand a chance in the Seven Hells against the White Walkers." Robb answered seriously. "If Margaery and I rule King's Landing alone, the White Walkers win in mere moons. Even a single dragon does not grant us victory - I fear we will need more than that to stand a chance."
The Queen of Thorns' face whitened. "So it is truly folly then, to crown Margaery? She must know this, then. But why would she allow herself to be crowned Queen? Unless—"
"She never meant to use her crown to rule the Seven Kingdoms herself?" Robb finished wryly. "That would be correct. Perhaps the North, but…"
"..not the Iron Throne." Olenna concluded. "Then tell me, dear grandson, exactly what is your plan for the Iron Throne? That ugly chair is not going anywhere, and we have the power and influence to decide what happens to it."
"Margaery and I agreed that either Queen Daenerys, or King Aegon, if Daenerys Targaryen truly decides to stay in Essos or support her nephew's claim, must rule the Seven Kingdoms, and that we would back his claim for the Southern Kingdoms, but to keep our claim for the North and the Riverlands. We would push for a betrothal between King Aegon to Princess Shireen Baratheon, uniting both claims, and through the bonds of brotherhood between Jon and Aegon, we would ensure peace between the two Kingdoms."
"Will you not press for a union of the Kingdoms in the next generation through your children?" The Queen of Thorns questioned curiously. "Furthermore, I am not sure if you are aware that the Young Dragon is…interested, in your sister, following in the footsteps of his father. Stannis Baratheon would not be pleased if his scarred daughter were spurned for a more beautiful Northern princess."
"We would prefer not to reunite, and to keep the North fully independent, but we would rejoin the Kingdoms as Lords of the North in the next generation, perhaps through a union between our son and a daughter of King Aegon's, given the promise between Prince Doran and King Aegon, if we did decide to rejoin the Six Kingdoms." Robb replied promptly, but he furrowed his brow at the new information given to him. "If what you say is true, that…complicates plans. Margaery and I have not discussed that portion of the plan thoroughly yet, truth be told, and perhaps she has other ideas."
"It may be sensible to consider the North's position if not for reunion. Certainly, the Southern Kingdoms could not invade through the Neck, but a costly war is likely in a few generations, if we survive at all. The Six Kingdoms have no incentive to send their armies North until far too late, if we do not use our leverage for that purpose, and leave the North likely to starve, as well as the world, if your tale is true. Perhaps Northern independence is simply not a feasible position with the coming of the Long Night," the Queen of Thorns suggested. "Or at least, if there is no incentive to invest in the North and the Realm as a whole."
"What do you suggest?" Robb asked. "Our plan is clearly flawed, and needs work, but I am always open to advice."
"I am merely an old woman, a relic from a past generation. You and my dear grand-daughter must take on the mantle, if we are to decide what to do to survive the Long Night. However, there are a few things I can note to assist your planning, grandson."
"And what would those be?"
"First, Sansa Stark - your sister. Margaery may be Queen of the North, and the most eligible lady for King Aegon, in another life, but what is done, is done. She is not only a clever political choice, and a beautiful and courteous queen, but she brings the forces of the North, the Riverlands, and perhaps even the Vale to the equation. The Northmen will not totally agree to give up their claim if Sansa is Queen, but that would certainly be a step in the right direction."
"Sansa should only marry a man she would want, after what happened with Joffrey Waters—"
"And yet little Sansa Stark has spent plenty of time with the King, and she seems to be equally as interested as the Young Dragon as he is in her." The Queen of Thorns lectured. "There is a foundation for true affection there, no matter how paranoid poor Jon Connington is about it. As a Stark of Winterfell herself, and as sister to a foreign King, she is the better choice every time. Shireen Baratheon will bring little love and will be a poor choice - Stannis has very few supporters in the Stormlands and in the Crownlands, even if he has the rightful claim. Renly Baratheon's supporters will sweep the Stormlands, and the Young Dragon will take the Crownlands, leaving your choice useless."
"I am…conflicted, but I will talk to her myself." Robb answered. "What of the other things?"
"There are only two more notes for me to prattle about - do not give me that look, grandson. But now, the second thing: Dorne, or more specifically, Princes Doran and Oberyn."
"What of Dorne?"
"I am sure your Maester taught you about Dorne's unique position in the Seven Kingdoms, and the titles House Martell still hold as Prince and Princesses of Dorne." Olenna noted, and Robb nodded. "Daeron the Good may have been a fool for fermenting the Blackfyre Rebellions, but he was shrewd in peacefully negotiating with Dorne. Further, Lord Maron Martell ensured concessions that would functionally grant Dorne independence, yet would swear them under the Iron Throne still. They benefit from trade because of that to this very day, and perhaps the North would be wise to follow their example in the case of reunification. Prince of Winter may not sound as distinguished as King of Winter, but there are benefits there that Kings in the North may not have."
Robb nodded, deep in though. "And the final note?"
"Did you know that the lands in the New Gift belong to the Night's Watch, on order of the Iron Throne?"
"Uncle Benjen mentioned something to that effect a long time ago - he said that it was at the suggestion of Queen Alysanne?"
Olenna nodded approvingly. "Good, good. So you are aware of the history behind the Gift and the controversial decision that surrounds that?" At Robb's nod, she continued.
"Talk to Lord Umber and include that in the trade deals you and my granddaughter decide on. We will sorely need the Night's Watch in time for the Long Night, and whether we send more troops and increase funding or scale down the size of the Night's Watch, something must be done."
"Yes, Lady Olenna. Thank you for the suggestions and the discussion - they have helped me iron out some plans." Robb said honestly. "We will take what you suggested into consideration and ensure we all benefit from it."
The Queen of Thorns nodded, and gave a small smile at Robb. Then, she strode out, her cane click-clacking as it hit the ground.
King's Landing, some time before….
"Do you understand your orders?" a man asked. Tall and imposing, he stared down at his underling.
"Yes, my Lord, I understand," the shorter man said. "And I will get the reward if I do, correct?
"You will get Lordship and such, if that is what you are asking," the man said dismissively, "but the girl has to die. She is the lynchpin of the entire alliance, and if she dies, there is profit."
"And I must use this poison?" the shorter man asked. In the vial, there contained a Dornish poison commonly favored by Oberyn Martell.
"You must use this poison, squire, if the plan is to succeed." the imposing man replied. "That will ferment the seeds of rebellion that my forces need to win the war. I will not suffer defeat! If you can make this work,, I will reward you with Lordship of Highgarden and the Reach if you succeed."
"Thank you, my Lord Hand. I shall make haste for the Great Council immediately." the squire of Reach origins replied cruelly as a smile bloomed across his face. "They'll never see it coming."
A/N: Ah Tywin, you never truly know when to give up, do you? As for the identity of the squire…this squire is not a canon character but an OC character VERY connected to a minor canon character in a plot that is definitely not teased in canon. However, there are definitely Reach Lords that are angry, for lack of a better word, at Mace Tyrell and House Tyrell in general, so this is definitely not just like straight OOC canon that exists purely for a plot device, but rather, some creative adaptation that may require some AWOIAFing the various lords of the Reach. Hope you all like it!
As for the Aegon/Shireen versus Aegon/Sansa….feel free to send your debates about it!
Next up: Margaery takes on Reach politicking, and sets the stage herself for the Great Council.