Given that Chapter 75 of this story will be set almost two decades in the future from the one before, this chapter here marks the halfway point of the main story! Hopefully it won't take the three years it's taken to get to this point to actually finish it, but with me you can never tell.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter despite it being another short one. We're in a bit of a limbo here with some necessary, albeit arguably filler scenes between Luke leaving the Wall and returning to it to fight.
I do not own anything other than the OC's. All characters and locations from the books or the show belong to either George R R Martin or HBO.
Jon Snow was the one to throw the torch into Craster's Keep, and as the house took to flame, he thought back on the battle that had been had earlier that night. They had fallen upon the mutineers under the cover of night and a helpful new moon, and quickly enough they had cut through their former brothers and defeated them all. They hadn't been without casualties though as four of their brothers had fallen to the sword, whilst the new recruit Locke looked like he had had his neck snapped by Maelys the Monstrous. There was only one mutineer, Rast, unaccounted for and so Jon had tasked Grenn and Edd with finding him as the pyres inside the house burned.
"Snow." A whisper came at Jon's left-hand side, and the bastard of Winterfell turned to see Jaime Lannister. "You'll want to see this."
The Lannister led Jaime out to the hound hut that Locke had mentioned earlier, and Jon was reminded that he hadn't even heard a whimper out of a dog during the entire battle. Jaime gestured for him to enter first, and when he did the Bastard of Winterfell was seething. It wasn't a kennel inside, instead there were cut ropes and a broken chain, and it looked like it had been a makeshift prison for a small group.
"What is this?" Jon asked, moving over towards the broken metal chain.
"A prison break." Jaime stated. "Isn't it odd how Locke insisted we stay away from here, and then when the time comes to fight he disappears, only to turn up dead away from the fight?" Jon had to admit, that was suspicious. "And look." Jaime nodded to the chain. "That takes some strength."
"Strength enough to break a man's neck with brute force…" Jon trailed off.
Jaime nodded. "Locke came here for a reason. He knew something."
"But why?" Jon asked. "What would a man from the Stormlands want with some prisoners Beyond the Wall?" Jaime looked unsure, but Jon realised at that moment. "Bran." He whispered, remembering Sam explain the group his younger brother had been with. He fingered the metal chain loop again, realising that Hodor was strong enough, and also that Locke had interrupted a conversation that Sam and Jon had been having about Bran being North of the Wall.
"Your brother? I thought he was killed." Jaime asked, a hint of unease in his voice.
"He survived and came North." Jon explained, not really sure why he was telling the Lannister, though it felt good to explain. "He was here… Locke overheard me saying that and volunteered to come North afterwards…" Jon's hand closed into a fist as he punched the wooden wall. "Why do people keep wanting Bran dead?" He snarled.
He wasn't expecting an answer, but Jaime provided one all the same. "It wasn't my family, not this time at least." The Kingslayer insisted. Jon knew that, but an explanation as to who would want a crippled boy dead was lost on him. "We better get back, Snow." Jaime added, and Jon simply nodded, following the Westerlander out to re-join his brothers and Craster's wives.
Jon looked over at Ghost, silently asking the Direwolf if he knew anything about where Bran was going, but Ghost was as silent as always and no answers came to his mind. Sighing, Jon vowed to spend the next morning looking for tracks as he settled back into watching the swirling flames of Craster's Keep, and in his tired mind he swore he saw a dragon.
The meniality of life back in King's Landing was tough after being away for so long on his own schedules, but Luke slowly got back into the structured days of council meetings and court business. On his first working day back in the Red Keep he had sent a missive over to the Golden Company looking to hire their ships to ferry men up to the North, a step thought necessary given that Luke wasn't sure on how quickly the Iron Islands conflict would be done with and the rest of the eastern coast not having much in the way of a navy.
The wait for the response was a slow one however given the new distance between Luke and his former Company, and he wished he had news as the first talk of the Small Council meeting a fortnight after his return to the capital turned to the upcoming fight with the Wildlings. Jon had already stated that his kinsman Lord Ronnet had begun gathering the Stormlanders in his name, while the Lord of Highgarden had news of his own.
"My Goodbrother, Ser Jon Fossoway, is currently on his way to the Red Keep with 5,000 men of Highgarden." Mace Tyrell stated proudly, though the number of men caused Luke to frown. Mace clearly saw Luke's unhappiness as he quickly fumbled over his next words. "That's not… there will be more men from the lands on the route to King's Landing, Your Grace! Jon must simply collect them!"
"I cannot stress the importance of the Wall enough, Lord Tyrell." Luke stated bluntly. "If we lose the Wall, then who knows what might follow the Wildlings into our lands?"
Oberyn snorted. "Has your time at the Wall made you fear Snarks and Grumpkins, Your Grace?" He asked amusedly.
Luke didn't bite. "It's easy to sit here in the South and mock the ancient stories, but as King of lands spanning from the Arbor to Last Hearth, I cannot take these threats lightly. If the Wildlings are fleeing in their tens of thousands as the rangers suggest, then what could cause them to move so quickly? If they all hate one another as much as I heard in my visit to Castle Black from multiple people, then what could cause so much panic that they band together under one man to flee beyond the Wall into the Seven Kingdom's?"
Jon Connington didn't look convinced. "The Watch have always needed men. I do not trust that it isn't simply an embellishment to gain royal aid."
"Are you willing to be wrong and deal with the consequences of a hundred thousand Wildling's in our borders?" Luke asked, and a silence fell over the table. "I thought not. It is our job to ensure that this Kingdom is ran peacefully and that our people can thrive under Targaryen rulership." He didn't mention the exact thoughts of his brother on what was coming because he knew he would get laughed away and thought mad, but he turned to Jon more personally and stated. "Rhaegar believed that whatever he thought was coming was important enough to gather the Lords Paramount and seek to gain their support in overthrowing my father. Our House has had their seers before, we survived the Doom and rose to conquer a continent because of dragon dreams, I won't risk Westeros on the off chance he was mistaken."
"A valiant calling, Your Grace." Oberyn said, noticing that Jon had hung his head in some kind of emotion. "But a costly one."
"We have coin." Luke waved away. "I spent a decade collecting it through my sword arm, it may as well go to good use in combatting the threats to my people. All of the threats, not just the ones to the North."
It was a good transition, and Oberyn smirked knowingly. "Then I can have my force?"
"Force? What force?" Jon asked, waking from his thoughts.
Luke took a sip of drink before beginning the explanation. "The Kingslayer spoke of my Father's final madness when I spoke to him at Moat Cailin. Together with his pyromancer Hand he lined the tunnels of the city with Wildfire, intending to erupt King's Landing so that the Usurper ruled only over charred bones and rubble. When I returned I asked Prince Oberyn to investigate under his role as Master of Laws."
"And the Kingslayer was right." Oberyn continued. "Hundreds of barrels sit underneath the Dragonpit, hundreds beneath the Sept of Baelor, and hundreds beneath the Red Keep. More line the oldest tunnels underneath the city while there are large groups beneath all the gates. Thousands of barrels in total."
"Wildfire becomes unstable as it ages." Varys stated, eyes widened in fear.
"The entire city could go up with one accident!" Ser Barristan exclaimed.
Luke scowled at the thought. "And my family reside here, as do many of yours." He turned to Mace Tyrell. "You are Master of Coin. I want you to give Prince Oberyn as many resources as he needs. Gold, men, everything." He then turned to Oberyn. "Work with the pyromancers. I want it all outside of the city, but I don't want it disposed of."
"Your Grace?" Jon asked, about to protest.
Luke held up a hand to stop Jon in his tracks. "Wildfire can be useful, though my father used it for his own sinful perversions. The pyromancers will be removed from the city for the people's safety and rehomed in an isolated facility where they can work on stabilising the Wildfire so that it can travel in the future."
"Why not just get rid of them?" Grand Maester Gormon asked. "Pyromancer's are a queer sort, practicing sinful magic and have brought nothing but death and destruction to our lands."
"Because despite the past they are clever men, among the cleverest outside of Oldtown." Luke stated. "And as the Starks like to tell us, Winter is Coming. The winds are pointing to a dangerous war in our future, My Lords, and I want every weapon available to me when it is here."
With Trystane Martell having been picked by Oberyn to go to the Wall Luke had made a point of including his soon to be Goodbrother in his sparring sessions. The Dornishman preferred the spear, like his uncle, and Luke had ensured that his sparring partners were armed with the manner of weapons that the Wildlings would be using. He got involved as well, and had just beaten Trystane by utilising more force than skill as the Wildlings would. Helping the 15-year-old Dornishman up to his feet, Luke offered some advice. "You're putting too much flair in your movements. Concentrate on your attacks. The Wildling's won't care if you're prancing around like your uncle, they're more likely to stick an arrow in you."
"But Oberyn…"
"Is the veteran of a hundred battles in Essos and here." Luke countered, placing a hand on Trystane's shoulder. "You're talented, Trystane, but you're still young without the experience you need to know when to show flair, and when to finish your enemy." He pulled away again and swung his heavy training blade. "Again."
Luke won the spar again, but Trystane had gotten closer to winning. Ser Taron Edgerton stepped in at that moment to take over and allow Luke to grab himself a drink, and he was surprised to see his sister standing above them, watching. Seeing that he wasn't necessarily needed, he went up a flight of steps to join her, leaning on the marble banister and watching Trystane get instructed.
"He's good." Luke admitted.
"But not as good as you." Dany smirked.
Luke shrugged. "By his age I'd already fought in a dozen battles. Trystane has only ever known peace so I would never hold that against him. Nor should you."
Dany made sure she was looking away. "I don't like your tone, brother. I told you that I wouldn't risk our relationship with our allies."
Luke nodded, feeling silly for thinking she was commenting out of some form of jealousy or resentment. "Forgive me." He said.
"I've been spending more time with him. Accompanied, of course." She added quickly. "He's a kind boy. I'm sure we will be friends and perhaps that will grow to fondness, I know not."
"For your sake I hope it does." Luke explained. "While there is still something within me pulling me towards you, I cannot deny I have feelings for Margaery. Whether that be because she is pregnant or not… I guess we will see."
Dany placed a hand on his arm. "It isn't, I can see that well enough." She told him softly. "And she is who you need to love for the sake of the realm."
Luke nodded, looking back to see Trystane looking up at them and waving. Dany waved back and Luke noticed the blush appearing on the Dornishman's face. "He likes you."
"Of course he does, I'm a Targaryen Princess." Dany rolled her eyes. "He desires me, I know that from his not so hidden glances and stares, and knowing his uncle he's imagined me half a dozen ways. But he's sweet, and has never said anything untoward despite his thoughts." The thought of Trystane having images of his sister made Luke clench his jaw shut in annoyance, though immediately he scolded himself for the hypocrisy. "Do you think we should wed before you go marching off to the Wall?"
"We made an agreement that you would not marry until Trystane has turned 16." Luke shook his head. "His nameday isn't until the end of the year. We'll begin arranging your wedding after the celebrations."
Dany smiled, and Luke knew that it was the answer she wanted to hear. "Thank you." She whispered.
Their attention turned to the spar again, and Luke was among the first to applaud when Trystane landed what would have been a fatal blow on Ser Taron had they been in a true fight. Then the sparring session separated as many of the household split into groups rather than just watching one interesting bout. Luke was ready to go back and join in again when a woman in Jon Connington's personal household, a Stormlander called Brella, ran over to them in a bit of a fluster. Once she was let through Dany's personal shield, Ser Jorah Mormont, she began to speak. "Your Grace, My Princess. The Lord Hand sent me to tell you… she's giving birth."
Luke's thoughts immediately went to Margaery who had barely even begun to show her pregnancy yet. "The Queen? Is she ok?"
"Not the Queen, Your Grace. Lady Bara… Karstark." Brella caught herself. "Lady Karstark is giving birth."
Luke's worry immediately turned to anger as the realisation of a new Baratheon being born into the world settled. "Thank you." He muttered, dismissing the servant.
"Calm, brother." Dany told him. "It's just a baby."
"Baratheon children will never be just babies, sister." Luke muttered darkly. The image of the burning bastard coming to the forefront of his mind. He thought of going to spar again, but knew that it wasn't fair to take his anger out on Trystane or any of his potential opponents. "If you'll excuse me, I must see my daughter."
He didn't wait for a response, and instead walked briskly past Jorah as he made his way back to the castle, quickly flanked by the Kingsguard Knights currently on duty.
Alys Karstark's labour lasted long into the night, and Luke managed to distract himself by playing with Visenya for a few hours until the toddler was too tired to continue. After that he locked himself away in his chambers with Margaery, who allowed him to distract himself with her body until they were both tired out, though Luke couldn't sleep.
"Does this babe really give you this much worry?" Margaery asked, letting the edge of the covers rest on her hips as she lay on her side facing him.
Luke nodded. "It sounds like madness, but it does." He admitted. "If the child is a boy… if they grow up resenting me for stealing an ill-conceived impression of a birth right… I invite more war to my Kingdom's. The Stormlanders hold no love for me, they will rise for a Baratheon claimant despite Jon being their Lord Paramount."
"And if it's a girl?" Margaery asked.
Luke shrugged. "Then all my worries are for nought. The girl would fall behind Lady Connington in the succession and I would be will within my rights to marry a girl off to a loyal vassal with her as my ward. But if it's a boy…"
Margaery placed a kiss on his cheek. "You worry too much about children not your own, husband. Worry instead about our own." She sat upright, her hands caressing her belly. With her dresses on it was barely visible that the Queen was pregnant, but while wearing nothing there was a noticeable bump. "Have we decided on names?"
Luke had. "Aegon for a boy." He explained. "It's the Kingly name, and the name of my nephew. I would honour him and my House with an heir called Aegon."
Margaery grinned widely. "I had the same thoughts."
"And Rhaenys for a girl, or some variation on that name." Luke explained. "It may be too obvious to name three children after the conqueror and his Queens, but my niece was also brutally murdered, I would honour her."
Rhaenyra was obviously out of the question, but Luke and Margaery spent the rest of the night picking out as many variations as they could without coming to a good conclusion. They were still talking when a knock came at the door. "Your Grace." Ser Barristan called. "The Lord Hand here to see you."
Margaery settled back down into the bed and covered herself up with the bedsheets, whilst Luke just made sure his bottom half was covered. "Send him in." He called out.
Jon entered the room and immediately noticed Margaery's discomfort in having company. "I'll be brief, Your Grace." He bowed his head before staring solely at Luke. "Lady Karstark has given birth. The mother is healthy, as is the baby."
Luke immediately felt a wave of guilt eat up at him as he realised that he was disappointed in the baby's survival. "And?" He asked.
Jon looked him square in the eyes. "Jocelyn Baratheon, Your Grace. A girl with a full head of hair and bright blue eyes."
Luke's relief couldn't be contained as he sunk into his pillows and let out a huge sigh. "Thank the Seven." He whispered. "Thank you, Jon. See to it that Alys gets all the help she needs." Jon bowed, departing the bedchambers. Luke's smile was obvious as he closed his eyes and let out a prayer to the Gods, thanking them for their designs and from stopping him from making a sinful choice. After that he placed a kiss on Margaery's lips and managed to close his eyes again, this time in a well needed slumber.
With Winterfell so far away from the sea it was an unusual novelty for Robb Stark to wake up to the sound of seagulls and the smell of the ocean. Since his arrival at Seagard a few days earlier his morning routine had been to spend a few minutes on the balcony of his given guest chambers and stare out at the serenity of Ironman's Bay, watching as the waves peacefully lapped against the coastline and the early rising fishermen of Seagard went about their work on their fishing boats.
Today there were hundreds of larger warships in the distance however, all with different sails adorning them. Robb saw his own Direwolf on a handful of them mixed with ships showing loyalty to House Mallister, House Redwyne, House Velaryon and House Targaryen. Realising that it meant the arrival of the rest of the army, Robb sighed as his peaceful morning would be taken up with war talk and southerners arguing over plans that had already been made. After those few, peaceful minutes were up, Robb walked back inside his room and got himself changed into his armour, finishing with placing the brown leather brigandine over his head before wrapping his wolfskin cloak over his shoulders as a final touch. He looked over in the corner to where Grey Wind was lounging beside the wooden box that housed the embalmed head of Theon Greyjoy, and the site of the box allowed an anger to fill his mind. "Grey Wind, come." He barked out the command, and Robb left his room with the Direwolf beside him.
Instead of heading towards the main hall for his breakfast, Robb stopped a serving girl on his way to the council rooms to have some food sent up to him. As the Mallister guards parted so that the Stark could enter he noticed that the room was relatively empty, save for Lord Jason Mallister, a dark skinned Valyrian in turquoise, and a balding man with a few tufts of orange hair dressed in royal blue.
"Ah, Lord Stark." Lord Jason greeted, finally getting used to the new title. When Robb had first arrived, Jason had almost caused an incident with the Reachmen for titling Robb as Your Grace. "I was not expecting you until later."
"I saw the new arrivals." Robb explained. "I presume this means we are soon to depart?"
The Valyrian man nodded. "Once we have resupplied and made the minor repairs to the ships." He explained. "Lord Monford Velaryon, Master of Ships." Lord Monford held out his hand, and Robb shook it. "This is Lord Paxter Redwyne."
Robb then shook the Reachman's hand, and Paxter was more vigorous. "A pleasure, Lord Stark. I had the honour of meeting your father once."
Robb knew his history's well enough. "At Storm's End, I presume? When you surrendered to him." He stated bluntly.
Lord Paxter was shocked silent for a moment, though a laugh from the Riverman in their group broke that silence. "I wouldn't try and win favour that way, Paxter." Lord Jason grinned. "Lord Stark, I was just explaining our plans…"
"Yes, I had some queries about that." Lord Velaryon stated. "You mean to utilise the same tactics as the Usurper did?"
"I mean to subdue each island individually, yes." Robb nodded, ignoring the barb towards the former Baratheon King. "The Iron Islands will soon have new rulership. As we have the strength to take each island, we must do so in order to gain a better picture over the loyalties of the Islanders. If they have no love for a Greyjoy, then who will they back as their next Lord?" There was no immediate response. "King Lucerys wishes for that to be Yara Greyjoy provided that she bends the knee and agrees to a radical change in Ironborn ideology, but if she refuses then she will die too as the last of the Greyjoy's. Then it will be up to us to provide His Grace with an alternative."
"I see." Paxter Redwyne nodded, looking at the map of the Iron Islands littered with different mainland sigil figures. "The Reach will take Great Wyke?"
"You have the largest fleet and the largest numbers." Robb nodded. "Fitting that you should take the largest island. Ser Loras has already agreed to this plan, My Lord."
"Loras is here?" Paxter's eyes widened.
Lord Jason nodded. "You were the last to arrive. The rest of our forces camp outside the town."
"Then I should speak to my wife's nephew immediately." The Reachman said. "If you will excuse me, Lord Mallister?"
Jason nodded again. "Go, you and Lord Velaryon should rest. I will push back our next meeting until after midday so you can sleep." The pair looked grateful for that, and moments later Robb was left alone with the Lord of Seagard as he was giving another glance over the plans. "The plans are solid, Lord Stark. They are just powerful men that are unused to not being in command."
"They will need to get used to it." Robb stated bluntly. He knew there would be resistance to his command from the southerners, especially those that bent the knee to the dragon immediately and saw him still as a traitor despite his own kneeling. He saw some parchment on the table. "Is this the updated numbers?"
"Lord Velaryon made sure that all losses on the waters were documented." Jason Mallister said. "Only a dozen or so men which is a bonus. We will be attacking the Islands in strength."
"I will stay here to study these." Robb explained. "You must have many duties; I will be fine."
Jason Mallister bowed his head, a sign of respect for his former King. "As you say, My Lord."
Robb was then left alone, and he looked towards Harlaw, the island that his Northman would be attacking. He remembered Theon talking about the island his mother had come from. Thinking again on his former friend and anger rose up in him, and Robb once more found himself wishing that the Ironborn's tongue hadn't been cut out so that Robb could have gained a true confession before the execution.
I didn't want to rehash the same battle that was in the show for Craster's Keep, so instead I'm playing more heavily on Jon knowing Bran is somewhere out there as well as his hidden heritage. It's also a scene showing that he's starting to trust Jaime more.
It always bemused me why the pyromancers were allowed within the city of hundreds of thousands of people, so I thought that Luke would want to use them to combat the threat he knows is likely coming, but safely. This is a King that cares about the lives of his subjects after all.
I hope I didn't bring Dany across as too arrogant here, but as a Targaryen Princess that is of age she knows that men lust over her, including her betrothed. I realise I haven't included Trystane enough perhaps so having him here both in person and being spoken about gave me a chance to get some of the Targaryen's feelings about him and the upcoming marriage to Trystane.
Then there's obviously some ill feelings towards Luke and his most hated house. Luke knows he's wrong for it but there are some feelings that people just have that can't go away despite knowing it's wrong. Thankfully Stannis' child is a girl and so Luke's fear about a future rebellion is lessened by a lot, though he won't feel safe unless he has full control over the girl.
Finally, and it's a few weeks later than the rest of the chapter, I wanted a scene with Robb at Seagard to show his feelings on Theon and his command of more than just his former subjects. We won't actually see the full invasion of the Iron Islands because of a time skip of a few months next chapter, but I felt it important to show that it is ready to go.
Thank you all for reading! I think it will be the last one for at least a fortnight because I'm going away soon and have used up all my buffer chapters unfortunately.
Next Time: The Invasion of the Iron Islands reaches its conclusion. There's another birth in the Red Keep.
Reviews:
Gtopia: Haha! Jon really will throw a spanner in the works when his parentage is revealed.
DougTheMug: Thank you!
Guest (cruel): Who said the baby was a Targaryen?
suppes1: Ah right I get you! I have a plan for that battle that I really like, focusing on Luke, Jon and Jaime Lannister.
