Tyrion is back, and we get to see the Golden Tooth for the first time.


TYRION XVI

A wall of battlements with crenellations and arrowslits, overtopped by six towers, covering the space separating two mountains at the very place where the River Road penetrated the Westerlands. The stones were placed with such precision that if a man tried to place a sword between them, they would fail, which was an exploit for ancient Westerosi architecture. When the Golden Tooth appeared in sight, this was the vision every traveler had : a line of fortifications that blocked the passage to the Westerlands from the east, which you couldn't pass through without paying a toll, which Tyrion struggled to reduce in order to make merchandise movements easier between the kingdoms. The Golden Tooth was indeed the door to the Westerlands.

Very few knew at this sight that this was only the surface of the Golden Tooth. Behind these walls, the equivalent of a small town had grown through centuries, fed by a permanent garrison which attracted merchants, shops, brothels and smiths. It was inside these walls that the burghers submitted to House Lefford lived and the gold of their mines worked on. On the other side of the road, where people coming from the west had to cross, a similar set of fortifications were installed. And inside these walls, another road started, which led to the top of the nearby mountains. Midway to the peak, the Golden Tooth sat.

From afar, the Golden Tooth truly deserved its name. It was built inside and atop the side of the mountain as it climbed in the sky, gliding in the sun, shaped like an inferior tooth. The way the size of the tooth squeezed as it got higher could also make people think to a man's cock if the sun impaired their vision. Had Tyrion already known a woman when he saw the Tooth for the first time, it wouldn't have been a tooth he thought about when he first set eyes on it.

If you climbed the road to the mountain higher, you reached the entrance of the mines. Unlike the Rock, the Tooth didn't have its mines under its roof. It was a common thing to say that the wealth of the Leffords came for the sky, not from the underground like the Lannisters. In truth, this was a lie, since the mines' entrances might have been over the castle, but the said mines dug so deep into the mountain that the veins of gold were often worked below the castle's level. This was without mentioning the other mines through the family lands and the tolls perceived on the River Road. It would be more accurate to say that the wealth of House Lefford came from the side and below.

Not as impressive as Casterly Rock that sat at the top of a mountain, the Golden Tooth didn't lack for comfort either. Such were Tyrion's thoughts as he drank wine with the mistress of the place. Lady Alysanne Lefford, who he helped to take her father's place, brought her own cup of wine to her lips. This was Arbor Gold, one of the best, but Tyrion dared not drink too much of it. Margaery closely watched his consumption of wine. Even though he used the time they weren't together to drink more, he didn't want to drink more with another woman. The only woman he got drunk with alone was his wife, when she allowed it. Usually, those drinking sessions, rare enough, ended in the bed and a challenge to determine which of the two would last the longest.

"I hope you don't intend to stay here for a long time," Lady Lefford said. "It is hard to keep an army at the same place and to feed them all the while, not to mention the unrest it causes."

"We are leaving tomorrow. The last levies just arrived, our army is complete."

"And your wife is coming today," Lady Alysanne added with a smile that said more than any amount of words could have told.

Tyrion returned it. The Lady of the Golden Tooth was a good friend of his wife, and as such she knew a few things about their relationship. In normal times, they would have left early in the morning, but when scouts told them yesterday that Margaery and her escort were closing on the Golden Tooth and that they would arrive today, Tyrion had no problem delaying the march of the army. Anyway, they had some more troops to wait, but the coming of his wife was more than enough a reason. He didn't want their reunion to happen on a road. If he was to go on campaign, he would rather spend one night with her in a real bed.

"I would rather know that she is safe and between good hands before I take the road," he said.

"She is escorted by your best knights. Nothing can happen to her."

"Allow me to think the contrary, my lady. Nothing was supposed to happen to my cousins either."

"Of course. I apologize, my lord. I understand your concern for your wife. Just like I understand her concerns."

Tyrion took the implied message. "I cannot continue to send my men to war if I'm not with them. My brother is dead, my uncle was captured and is now grieving his three sons, Joffrey was assassinated and I ran away from the capital when Stannis was approaching it. People need to see me on the front. Even Margaery agreed on that."

"She told me so. Which doesn't mean she won't be worried about you."

"I don't plan to die today. Nor tomorrow, nor this year, nor in the next decade, truth be told. And I'll make sure I don't."

"And how will you convince Margaery of this? After your cousins' murder?"

Tyrion didn't reply. "I won't die. Either way, I must go. Tommen is too young to lead an army. I'm not. I'm twice the age a boy starts to fight with a real sword."

"Perhaps, but these boys are not dwarfs."

There was no evil behind her words. The daughter of Leo Lefford had always been kind to him. Tyrion didn't know why. He didn't know either why Margaery loved him. He pushed this idea into the back of his mind. He wouldn't start questioning himself about Margaery's feelings. It was already hard to deal with Jaime's death. Dark notions were already plenty in his mind. They didn't need company.

"What are you going to do though? Defeat both Stannis and Robb Stark?" she asked him.

" Stannis will never give up on the throne, and Robb Stark will never surrender his crown of the North."

"Not to mention Balon Greyjoy," she added.

"Yes, indeed. Three kings to defeat." Four, maybe.

Recent reports from the Night's Watch talked about a King-beyond-the-Wall, a certain Mance Rayder who was gathering a powerful army and planning to attack the Wall. Tyrion should probably not worry, as the Wall was high and strong, and it would be hard enough to get passed it, even without the Night's Watch to guard it. The problem was that Tyrion didn't know if there was even a Night's Watch to guard it now. Jeor Mormont had died more than a year ago, and now his successor Alliser Thorne was gone as well, killed in an attack of wights at the Fist of the First Men. The message had been sent by Maester Aemon himself.

If Mormont and Maester Aemon didn't lie… Tyrion had more important matters to attend to, a war to lead and to win, a family to protect, or at least what was left of it, but he felt something terrible was coming down on them. And yet he had to push that aside, to focus on the actual problems.

"Things are not as bleak as they seem. In fact, we are in a very good position," Tyrion declared. "The army Stannis sent after the Reach has been defeated and now the Tyrells are besieging Storm's End. Our army at Deep Den has besieged King's Landing, a good portion of the Riverlands swore fealty to Tommen, and our enemies are too busy fighting among each other to care about us. Robb Stark and Stannis are going to clash at each other, probably at Riverrun, and whoever wins will be weakened. As for Balon Greyjoy, he is so busy burning the coasts of the North that he seems to have forgotten we even existed."

"I hope we haven't forgotten that he existed," she countered.

"Don't worry, we haven't." As soon as the Starks would stop being a problem and that someone loyal to Tommen would rule the North, Tyrion would deal with the Iron Islands. They would realize then that the fleet of Lannisport could cause quite a surprise.

"Still, I'm a little worried, my lord. My father used to tell a story to his men : five fingers are more than one fist, and yet if you try to hit someone with your fingers, it is likely they will break. However, if you hit him with a fist, you will likely break him something. We have five armies right now. One operating in the Riverlands and another one here at the Golden Tooth, mostly fresh levies who have never fought before. There are two armies encircling the capital, if we count the one from Deep Den and the one Randall Tarly led to reinforce them. And the fifth is besieging Storm's End. Let's say Stannis and Robb Stark fight, and one of them dies. The victor possibly emerges from the battle with a weakened army, but still powerful. He has one single army, and he can strike wherever he wants. He has a fist. As for us, I'm wondering if what we have are five fingers or five fists."

Tyrion's lips rolled up. "You almost sound like Varys."

"The Master of Whisperers? I hope you don't take me for an eunuch as well," she said playfully.

"I would never dare. I spent too much time with my sister and my wife. I know that behind every smiling woman, there is another one to fear, waiting for the right time to appear."

Alysanne Lefford's smile widened. They took one more sip together.

"I'm afraid I have to leave you here, my lady. We may not be leaving today, but I still have some matters to attend with my men."

"Of course. Good luck, my lord."

Tyrion headed to the courtyard. On his way, he began to think about his bannermen. Most of them showed him loyalty up to now, but that meant nothing. Bannermen seldom displayed opposition to their liege lord. In general, he thought he could count on their obedience for the time being. Although he didn't have to make a new song to ensure their loyalty, he had taken other means early after he became Lord of the Westerlands. Mostly, his bannermen wouldn't think of rebelling, the memory of his father helping, but nothing was certain in this world. Not everyone was like Alysanne Lefford, who he helped to become Lady of the Golden Tooth. To others, he was the lord who abandoned his king in the capital, who ran away from battle, who ordered his troops to retreat before the enemy on more than one occasion. He had to prove them he was capable of winning this war. If he couldn't defeat his enemies, his own bannermen would start plotting in the shadows. He needed a victory, now.

He just walked in the courtyard when Ty ran to him. "My lord, Lady Margaery is here. She's climbing the mountain as we speak."

It seemed like Tyrion wouldn't meet his officers yet. Not that he complained. After all, the company of his beloved wife was far more enjoyable than the one of men who kept talking about warfare and battles.

Tyrion waited in the courtyard with Ty and four of his knights who happened to be there. Lady Alysanne Lefford and a small company of her household joined them. The gates being opened in permanence, they didn't need to open them when Margaery rode inside. Tyrion watched her unhorse. She looked tired, exhausted. Her clothes were dirty, though her grace had not diminished. Behind were the guards who accompanied her. Lady Mira Forrester was there as well, with his uncle Kevan. On the horses behind, two large bags laid on two different mounts. It wasn't hard for Tyrion to guess what, or who they contained.

"My beloved lady."

"My dear husband."

He took her hand and kissed her. With a sign of head, she indicated that he should speak to his uncle. Their reunion would wait for later. While Margaery spoke with the Lady of the Golden Tooth, Tyrion walked to his father's brother.

"Kevan, how are you?"

"Not well, I'm afraid, my lord." His tone of voice, usually direct, incisive, straight, was now low, burdened.

"I'm glad that you're alive, and back with us."

"I would rather be a prisoner right now."

Tyrion didn't know what to say. He and Kevan were never particularly close. Always respectful, Kevan had nonetheless always been the uncle who was the farthest from Tyrion, the closest to his father.

"I've heard about Jaime and Cersei. I'm sorry for their deaths," his uncle added.

"Thank you." He just thought this wasn't the best place to discuss such matters. "We should get inside. We will be more comfortable to talk."

"Yes, you're right." Kevan Lannister seemed to recuperate some contenance. "You surely want to know everything I could learn while I was a prisoner of the Starks. I'll give you a complete report. Lady Margaery should be with us. She'll be able to complete what I say."

"Uncle, you don't need to do this now," Tyrion told him, feeling a pang of pity for the last living brother of Tywin Lannister.

"I know we're at war. I will mourn my sons later. For now, we have more important matters to attend to."

In that, Tyrion recognized his father's advisor, though had it been his father who said the words, it wouldn't have been with a contrite expression, while being on the brink of crying.

"If you say so… My lady, we need to talk, the three of us."

A moment later, Tyrion, Margaery and Kevan were sitting at a table with a huge flagon of Arbor Gold at the center. Tyrion listened to their reports of the events. Margaery told him everything about the negotiations and the tragedy of Martyn and Willem's deaths. Kevan told him about his captivity and everything he could learn while he was a prisoner. Since he spent most of the time in the dungeons of Riverrun, even if he was given a decent enough cell, there wasn't much he learned. However, he told Tyrion how he used to see his sons every day with the authorization of his captors. How Robb Stark and his allies tried to persuade him to intercede in their favor to Tyrion. He also told him about the visits of Jon Snow.

"The bastard visited you?"

"Yes, on several occasions," Kevan answered him. "He asked me how I was, and if there was anything I needed. He interceded for me a few times before his brother. Truth be told, he became my main contact with the exterior. He kept me informed about the war. He said the only thing he wanted was to believe us when we're saying we have nothing to do with his father's death, that he wanted peace just like us. Perhaps that was only a trick, to put himself in my good graces."

"I'm not sure. Starks are not very good at lying. And Jon Snow is starker than all the other Starks I've ever known. He's the very image of his father. Whoever his mother was, she didn't leave him much."

"Let's be careful," Margaery advised. "Jon Snow is a Stark after all. His loyalty goes to his family first. No matter the sympathy he shows us, he will fight against us as long as his brother wishes."

"By the way, my lady, are you sure this a good idea to keep a handmaiden from the North at your service? She could be spy and feed information to the Starks," Tyrion's uncle warned.

"I'm always careful with the information I provide to my handmaidens and my friends. And she's the one who put my guards on the track that revealed Martyn and Willem's deaths. Anyway, I won't allow her near any Stark again, not anytime soon. With the tragedy that happened at Riverrun, I don't see how peace could be possible between us. "

Tyrion agreed. Not that he didn't wish for peace between them, but now the Lannisters were calling for Stark blood as much as the Starks were calling for Lannister bodies. He had to confine the Lady Sansa to her rooms with heavy guard to protect her, dissimulating it as punishment and insurance to prevent her possible escape. Before he left, he had ordered his aunt to make her life as endurable as possible. Tyrion knew that Robb Stark didn't have total control over his men. Tyrion didn't have it either. Tyrion, however, had the excuse that he wasn't there when Ned Stark got executed. Robb Stark didn't have that excuse. On the other side, the self-proclaimed King in the North didn't hesitate to execute the men who were guilty, including one of his most powerful bannermen, for this crime. He couldn't tax Robb Stark of being unfair. Stupid and careless perhaps, but not unjust. Tyrion would probably have kept the lord who did that hostage to keep the loyalty of his men. Instead of that, Robb Stark might face a rebellion in his own ranks now. Such was the reward of justice.

"There will be no peace," Kevan declared. "Robb Stark saw to that when he allowed my children to be killed."

"No, uncle. Peace was lost the moment Joffrey decided to chop Ned Stark's head." In a fist of rage, he tossed his goblet on the ground. It was in gold, so it didn't break. The comparison he wanted to make was no longer possible. "We tried to make peace all the same, but we knew it was unlikely, almost impossible. Still, we kept trying. Now it's useless to try."

"If we win this war, who will we place as Warden of the North? We will still need one, and one the Northerners will accept."

"Sansa is next in succession if Robb Stark dies," Margaery pointed out. "The best way would be to marry her to someone we could entrust the North to. You know I had plans for her, but of course they're no longer relevant."

"We will find someone. We could marry her to Daven. He proved very good in this war in the Riverlands. And considering the Ironborn who invaded the North, an experienced battle commander would be helpful," Tyrion said.

"Daven is a good man and a good soldier, but I'm not certain he would be good to rule the North. He didn't prove he was capable of running a kingdom in the long term. My cousin Willas may be lame and unable to fight, he has actual experience at ruling and politics. He may be a better choice if we are looking far away in time."

"Isn't he already betrothed? To your friend, Lady Mira?"

"And so is Daven."

Tyrion thinly smiled. Margaery returned it. They knew it was a discussion they would need to end later. "Of course, there is still the bastard option."

"What do you mean?" Kevan asked.

"If Jon Snow is in good enough disposition towards us, Tommen could legitimize him and name him Warden of the North. We could have an ally with Stark blood along with the name, fewer problems of loyalty from the northern lords, and a man who has actual experience at commanding armies."

"I'm not sure he is still in good terms with us," Margaery said.

"And legitimizing a bastard is always a source of problems. Look at what happened with the five Blackfyre rebellions," Kevan said. "If all the legitimate children of Ned Stark were dead, it would pose less of a problem, but he still has two daughters once Robb Stark is removed."

"There are still our allies in the North," Tyrion pointed out. He shared a look with Margaery. She nodded.

"Yes, we must not forget them," Margaery acknowledged.

"What allies are you talking about?" Kevan asked.

"Not here, uncle. Let's just say we have friends, or potential friends in the very least," Tyrion cryptically answered.

"Anyway, first we must defeat Robb Stark, and Stannis. We must not believe this war is already over. The wind can blow in any direction during conflicts. Though we should also discuss what we will do about the Riverlands once this is all over."

"We may be able to keep the Tullys in power. After all, they didn't start this war. They only joined the rebellion because of family ties. And I wouldn't want to install a new house at the head of the Riverlands. It would cause too many problems."

"We will have to make sure no one else from Lord Edmure's family is killed," Margaery said. "We should even spare Robb Stark, send him to the Wall. We might send Jon Snow there along with him. If nothing befalls Catelyn, Arya, Sansa and even Ser Brynden Tully, peace should be possible with him. However, we should leave him the Riverlands without consequences. He rebelled against the Realm, no matter his reasons. He's still unmarried. We should find him a Tyrell or a Lannister bride."

"And reduce his territory. Let's add some lands in the west of the Riverlands to the Westerlands, and some in the south to the Crownlands. And don't worry for your family, they will have their share in the Stormlands."

"I know, and I hope so. Still, first let's win this war. I could gather some information among our allies on my way, but not much. The houses who declared for Tommen in the Riverlands didn't do it out of kindness. What is our situation?"

"Storm's End and King's Landing are both under siege. A vanguard body of the Reach is riding north to the Riverlands to attack Stannis' allies in the back. The Ironborn are still occupying strategic points in the North and stopping the Northerners from going back there by keeping Moat Cailin. Stannis is still heading to Riverrun. And it seems like the Vale has joined the fray."

"The Vale?"

"Yes. A huge army is already in the Riverlands. However, our latest reports said they were quite far from Stannis and his men. They won't make it to Riverrun in time to assist the Starks. Again, they should never trust Littlefinger."

"You mean he's behind this?"

"Yes. He was at Riverrun very shortly before you arrived there. Our spies informed us."

"What? Well, that explains why Robb Stark refused our help so quickly. If he believes the Vale is coming to his help…"

"Well, they're too late. With the actual speed of his troops, Stannis will reach Riverrun long before the Vale arrives. Robb Stark cannot keep his whole army behind the walls of Riverrun. He will have no choice but to meet Stannis in the field, alone."

"In this case, we should wait for the battle to have happened. Keep our troops here and wait for the result."

"No, we can't, my lady. The men have already been forced to stay idle for too long. An army is not meant to remain stationary. It's not a garrison. And I want to bring the final strike to the survivor right after this battle. That's why we have to go."

"He's right, my lady," Kevan approved. "In war, there is a time to wait and another to move. The time to move has come. We cannot delay any longer."

Margaery sighed. "So be it. Well, I'll leave you. You have a lot to tell each other. Including about the events in King's Landing."

His wife left them. Tyrion took the opportunity to look more closely at his uncle. He was plainly exhausted, but he looked straight in Tyrion's eyes all the same and didn't hesitate to speak.

"Your wife told me everything. Renly's assassination, the shadow, Ser Mandon Moore and Cersei. Joffrey and the footpad in Winterfell. The Stark boy fall. And I know you told her about Jaime and Cersei."

Tyrion didn't reply.

"She assured me she wouldn't tell anybody, but can we trust her?"

"Of course, we can, Kevan. She's my wife."

Kevan looked more tired than ever. "I love Dorna, Tyrion, but that doesn't mean I tell her everything, or entrust her with such… sensitive information. She may be a Lannister by marriage, and we may have had four children together…" His voice came close to breaking, but he managed to take heart. "Margaery remains à Tyrell, Tyrion. You know that."

"As far as she's concerned, Kevan, we have no proof to declare that Robert is not the father of Tommen and Myrcella. Cersei still slept with him. No matter what she believed, she had no proof that Robert was not the father."

"Perhaps, but can we trust her with that secret."

This time, Tyrion took a longer time to answer. "Yes." And he believed it.

Kevan fell back into his chair. His expression decomposed. "I was there the day they were born. Cersei and Jaime. Your parents were so proud. And happy. It was one of the few times that Tywin actually smiled. As they grew up, even he would marvel at them, as they got more beautiful. He saw Jaime as the future Lord of the Rock, his heir, a knight no one would dare to fight, and Cersei as the future queen. He never told me that, but I could see it in the way he behaved, and Joanna always told me how your father was proud of his children. His golden son and his golden daughter."

Tyrion listened without a noise. Of course, Jaime and Cersei were the golden children, the ones his father always wanted. He was the dwarf that Tywin Lannister would have sacrificed without a second thought to save his wife.

"Tywin has arranged everything. And then Joanna died, then Aerys named Jaime in the Kingsguard and Tywin resigned as Hand. When Aerys fell and Cersei became queen, I thought there was hope again, but as I saw events unfold and Cersei gave birth to three children with golden hair… I knew there was something wrong. All of this, all the plans Tywin made, gone into smoke. And here we are. Jaime, Cersei, Joffrey, Lancel, Martyn, Willem…"

His voice broke and tears fell as he lowered his head. Tyrion said nothing. He didn't know what to say. He allowed his uncle to cry for a very long time. He just remained there, by his side, but after a while, he knew he couldn't postpone a very hard discussion any longer.

"I need you, Kevan. I need you to win this war."

His uncle tried to dry his tears. "I'm in state to be an advisor, less to command on the battlefield." Tyrion let another long moment pass while he remained silent. "Dorna… She's all alone. She needs me."

Tyrion understood, but he also understood other things. One of them was that he needed his closest advisor. Again, he said nothing. He knew what Kevan would do. And he did.

"I'll follow, my lord. I only have one request. Once this war is over, I want to go back to the Rock, spend time with my wife and our last child. I want to be with them."

Tyrion nodded. Kevan had taken a begging tone, which he never did. "I'll do better than that. You will only follow us at Riverrun. Once the battle there is over and we've dealt with the Starks and Stannis, I'll let you bring the bones of your sons back home. I won't force you to take any other part in this war. But you know Riverrun, you've spent time there. We will need your help to take it. After that, I'll release you."

Tyrion patted his uncle's shoulder. It was an awkward movement. He wasn't good at comforting someone, except maybe for his wife, and even then… Tyrion stood up.

"Take the rest of the day and the night to rest, Kevan. We are leaving tomorrow at dawn."

Just as he began to walk away, the voice of his uncle raised.

"Tyrion, I know why you abandoned Jaime and Cersei. And I don't blame you."

"Maybe, Kevan. But I do blame myself."

On that, he left. He walked to the chamber Lady Lefford offered him, each step feeling heavy as if he had huge blocks attached to his feet. When Tyrion pushed the door, his mind buried into memories of Jaime, he almost didn't see his wife who rested on the bed. She had a change of clothes, and now wore some more in the Reach style.

"You're sure this is a good idea with the colder temperatures?" he asked her. She understood what he implied.

"I feel better in them. Lighter." She turned on her side, her head supported by the palm of her hand, her elbow against the mattress. Her dress displayed a part of her breasts. Tyrion felt something stir within him. "How is Kevan?"

"Not well. Once our business in the Riverlands is over, I'll send him back to Casterly Rock. I know what it is, not to be able to mourn someone you love."

"So do I." He had come closer to her, and she caressed his cheek. "I don't want you to go to war. We both know this is not for you."

"Maybe." He began to trace a line along her arm. Her skin was soft against his thumb. "But I have no choice. I cannot ask my men to risk their lives if I'm not willing to risk mine."

He kissed her. Her lips were warm, the breathing of her mouth hot in his own. He moved his hand over all her face and her hair, while she did the same for him. Then she lowered her head, breaking their embrace. Tyrion was about to change of position so he may continue to kiss her.

"I'm pregnant."

The words stopped him right in the middle of his movement. He was stunned, fixed into the position he was. Margaery laughed.

"You should see your face. I thought you would be happier."

Tyrion somehow got out of his state of numbness. "Wait. You're pregnant? Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure." She almost threw her head behind this time as she burst into another laugh. She went into explaining a lot of things, about how she felt weak on her journey to Riverrun, then she began getting sick in the morning only two days before they reached the castle. The maester of Riverrun examined her and told her she was pregnant. She got the confirmation from another maester at Pinkmaiden and then a second confirmation from Lady Lefford's maester while Tyrion was discussing with Kevan.

Once she was done, she looked at him with a mischievous look. "Well, you don't seem to react very much."

Tyrion tried to shake himself so he could come back to reality. He sat on the bed next to his wife. "Forgive me. I… I'm surprised. I guess I assumed that…"

"We would never have children?"

"Yes, I guess. I mean, we tried for many years, and I'm a dwarf, so I believed maybe

I couldn't…"

"But you're happy?"

She wasn't concerned or afraid of his answer. She only still looked mischievous, waiting for his answer. Tyrion finally smiled. "Yes, I'm happy."

They burst into laughter together. The next two hours were spent celebrating in private the event. Tyrion enjoyed the time he had with his wife while he still had some, trying to make up for all the months they were separated, either by distance or by lies. Some may have thought that their celebration was dangerous for the baby, but Tyrion knew enough in medicine from Creylen to know that actually nothing prevented a pregnant woman and her husband from consummating their love. They made it several times, with passion, their cries hitting the walls of their chamber. They were only stopped by a servant who came to tell them Lady Lefford would hold a feast for them. As soon as the feast was over, they went back to bed, made it one more time, then fell asleep, exhausted.

The morning that followed, Margaery forced him to make a promise. He swore it on all the gods, even if he didn't believe in them. When he rode with twenty thousand men to Riverrun, his uncle Kevan by his side, it was with a new conviction and a new will to put an end to this conflict. He wouldn't allow his future child to come into a world devoured by war.


Many people suspected it, but I didn't confirm it before this chapter was out. Yes, Margaery is pregnant.

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Next chapter : Catelyn

By the way, we're going to have a bulk of 5-6 chapters the next time this fanfiction is updated. Something big, a decisive point is coming for the story.