Another week, another chapter! I worked out the other day that at this rate it will be next April by the time this story is finished based on one chapter per week… likely in time for the next season of House of the Dragon to be filming. That series has really reignited my passion for this story which is brilliant, and I hope everyone reading this is enjoying the show so far.

It seems like more people are enjoying this enough to review this since the start of the show too given that last chapter had the most reviews since Chapter 25. I've enjoyed all of your comments, thank you to those that have reviewed.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter too. I own none of the locations or characters that appear in the books or the show, as they are the property of George R R Martin or HBO.


As the King was being rowed back towards the royal harbour, the sight of his family lining up to greet him once again filled him with a massive sense of relief. Above him flew Valaxes, growing larger by the day and now the size of one of Chains' elephants. The black and red dragon let out a bone shuddering roar as he raced overhead, landing on one of the round towers that guarded the harbour as he looked over the gathered crowd.

Stepping off the row boat and onto the stony beach, he quickly got the kneeling group to rise as he walked over to his wife and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "My Queen."

"Welcome home, Your Grace." Margaery curtseyed.

"Where is Aegon?" Luke asked once he had stepped back.

Margaery gestured to the Red Keep. "With his wetnurse, it was a disagreeable morning." She muttered.

Nodding, Luke then turned to his daughter. He knelt down to pick her up as Visenya gripped his neck in a hug tightly. "And how is my little Princess?"

Visenya giggled. "Good."

Daenerys had been beside her niece, and his sister stepped forwards. "Your Grace." She curtseyed. "The Princess has someone she'd like you to meet…"

Concern filled Luke initially, thinking that Visenya had been exposed to someone in his absence that he wouldn't approve of. He needn't have worried though, when Talisa handed Daenerys a small wooden box. His sister unlatched it, and Visenya immediately turned around and held her hands out as a dragon flew out, nestling itself between the toddler's arms.

"By the Gods…" Luke whispered, as he took in the sight. The dragon had scales and wings of a deep red, while its small horns and wing bones were a darker red, almost maroon like. Meanwhile its claws were black, and it also had beady little black eyes. "Is this your dragon, Vis?" He asked the daughter in his arms.

Visenya nodded. "Bloodwing!"

Luke grinned, placing a kiss on his daughter's pure silver hair. "A fine name for the symbol of our House." He told her, before turning to Daenerys. "When did this happen?"

"A couple of weeks past." She explained. "No blood magic necessary, just a strong bond to a wilful child."

Luke grinned. "The troubles of our ancestors are officially over." He announced to the gathered court. "Dragons once again are hatching, and magic is back in the world." Though his mirth suddenly dropped off of his face as he thought about the North. "And it shall be needed, for there are dark days to come."

"Your Grace?" Jon Connington asked.

"Tomorrow, Jon." Luke shook his head. "The hour grows late, and I am tired from the journey. We shall meet tomorrow and discuss the state of things." Jon simply bowed, and Luke took the lead in walking back up to the Red Keep.

Less than an hour later after a rushed meal, the King and Queen found themselves under the covers, a light layer of sweat covering the pair of them after some marital activities. Luke was catching his breath as he settled back into the comfortable mattress and pillows. "Gods I've missed these." He sighed contently. "If my rooms in Castle Black were the most luxurious, I dread to think about what the rest of the poor souls up there have to sleep on."

Margaery chuckled, pulling the covers up to her waist and settling into Luke's side, her head resting on his chest as she traced her finger around his silver chest hair. "Is the bed all you've missed, my love?"

Luke snorted a laugh. "You know that it isn't, Margaery." He smirked.

They settled into a soft silence for a few moments, before the Queen's hand moved towards his nipple as she said. "I need to speak with you about your sister."

Luke frowned. "What about her?"

"Prince Trystane's death is a tragedy." Margaery said quickly, sitting up and turning to kneel beside her husband, the sheets falling off of her form. "But it also leaves the question of what is to happen in the future? Prince Oberyn has been confirmed as the heir to Dorne since you broke the news, but now the Princess is without a betrothal and is almost twenty."

Luke sighed. "Margaery…"

"Please don't just dismiss me like that." Margaery insisted. "It's important for your House that it continues to rebuild, and while I'm glad we are trying to grow it at every opportunity…" Luke smirked at the reminder of their actions. "Luke, I'm serious."

"Yes, I'm listening."

Margaery sighed. "There's a man in custody that is waiting for your judgement. He calls himself the High Sparrow and he is preaching against you. Stating that you and your sister are too close… and the people are listening. They don't want another Kingslayer and Cersei Lannister situation."

All mirth was gone as Luke sat upright in his bed. "What is being said?" He asked icily.

"His followers are claiming…" Margaery closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Forgive me, I'm quoting here. They claim that the dragons have returned because of blood sorcery, that you and Daenerys are demons sent from the seven hells and fucked over the pyres of your dead brother and wife, and her virginal blood was the key ingredient to hatch the dragons."

Luke snorted. "That's ridiculous." He stated.

"It's a growing movement, Luke." Margaery stated bluntly. "These Sparrows have only grown bolder since we arrested their leader. The High Septon was ripped from a brothel, certain sections of Fleabottom have been burning effigies… the Gold Cloaks are handling it but it's concerning."

"Daenerys and I are nothing like that. You of all people should know considering we share a bed every night." Luke frowned. "The people will believe this until something else comes along to tickle their fancy. I've been away and these, sparrows, have grown bold. I am back now, and I do not plan to leave again until the storms arrive in the North."

"It would be best to send Daenerys away, Luke." Margaery insisted, shuffling closer so that her loose hair was hanging down and tickling the King's bare chest. "Have her wed, get her out of the city and away from the whispers. Then with the people only seeing us together with your children… the talking will stop."

"Enough." Luke said firmly. "I have just returned from war, Margaery. Daenerys is no threat to you, and to fret about the words of the people would mean that there is something to hide. I am no sorcerer; the dragons were born from a miracle. There is also nothing between Daenerys and I, I swore vows on our wedding day that I am yours, I have not broken them." He leant forwards and placed a kiss on his wife's cheek. "Goodnight." He said finally, shifting down and turning to face the wall, closing his eyes.


The Small Council meeting had been scheduled to take place a few hours after Luke had woken up and gotten himself ready, and so the King decided with his rare free time that he would go down to the Black Cells to have a talk with this so-called High Sparrow. After getting the up-to-date information on the man from Varys, Luke made his way down to the dungeons. Grabbing a torch from the walls as Garin, the replacement Chief Gaoler after Chains' return to Essos, unlocked the door, Luke took a deep breath before telling his current protector, Ser Rolly. "Wait outside."

"Your Grace. We don't know anything about this man…" The Kingsguard knight argued.

Luke smiled as he shook his head. "He's a religious fanatic that's spent a fortnight in the Black Cells, Rolly, he's hardly going to shiv me." He tapped Blackfyre's pommel. "Besides, I'm not exactly useless with this, my friend."

Rolly rolled his eyes. "A good dagger is infinitely quicker than a bastard sword, Your Grace, even a Valyrian Steel one."

"I'll keep that in mind." Luke said amusedly, before walking into the Black Cells, illuminating the room more. He saw the old man in grey rags sat in the corner of the room, squinting and rubbing his eyes at the offending light in his hands. Luke took a few steps closer, before looking down on the troublesome man. "So… you are the High Sparrow?"

The man laughed as he looked up at Luke's face. "High Sparrow, it sounds ridiculous, like Lord Duckling or King Turtle."

"Careful, Ser Duckworth is just outside." Luke countered amusedly.

"I meant no offence… but we cannot help what our enemies name us." The High Sparrow said.

"You have enemies? You are but a humble Septon, are you not?" Luke asked.

The man sighed. "The notion that we are equal under the eyes of the Seven does not sit well with some. I simply speak on the truth of the Seven, that we are all the same on this plane, high or lowborn, they will judge us come our end by our deeds, not by our birth."

"And you believe my deeds are sinful, and immoral?" Luke asked.

"Your very existence is an affront to the Gods, Your Grace." The High Sparrow said. "You can count your lineage back almost 20 generations that we know of to the Doom of Valyria. In how many of those generations did sibling marry sibling to produce your ancestors?" At Luke's silence, the High Sparrow continued. "Your family preyed on the weakness of the High Septon of the time to allow your incest, forcing him and the realm to bend to the will of House Targaryen."

"I cannot help my birth." Luke stated bluntly.

"But your actions are a product of it." The High Sparrow stated. "Whatever happened in Essos, your blood magics birthed foul abominations…"

"Creatures." Luke snapped. "As real as cats or dogs, they live, they breathe and they die all the same."

"And burn thousands in their wake." The High Sparrow countered back. "They are creatures of war, bred and moulded for conquest, not companionship. They are beings of heretical nature."

"They are Valyrian." Luke told him. "As I am, and my ancestors before me."

"You have the look, so we are told in our histories." The High Sparrow explained. "But Valyria is gone, it has been gone for hundreds of years. At this point you are as Westerosi as the rest of us, born in the light of the Seven."

Luke bristled. "And I keep my faith."

"You pray, and you speak your vows, and perhaps you've even truly read the Seven Pointed Star." The High Septon shrugged. "But still, you commit incest, you commit blood magic, you burn your enemies without trial nor reason, but as you will."

"Those are lies." Luke snarled.

"Your anger at the words tell me otherwise." The High Sparrow stated. "You may claim to love the Gods, but you still parade your sister-wife around, letting her act the Queen around this city."

"Daenerys is not my wife." Luke argued. "She is my sister, a sister that was ripped away from me and that I found once more, a sister I fought for to keep her safe."

"Tell me, if you did not need an alliance, would you have married her?" The High Sparrow asked.

Luke was taken aback by the question. "Excuse me?"

"Would you have married her, had you not needed an alliance with House Tyrell or House Martell?" The High Sparrow repeated. Luke's surprise turned into a pause that the man capitalised on. "Your silence tells me all. Such sinful thoughts are the exact reason why I started preaching my words."

"You speak your treason, yet what is your alternative?" Luke asked. "When the Winter winds come and death follows, who would you have to lead us?" He raised an eyebrow. "Would you have had the Baratheon that followed the fire God, who would have burned the Great Sept with joy as his Red Priestess put faithful on the pyre? Or would you have the bastard Tommen sit the Iron Throne, an afront to the sanctity of marriage?"

"The Seven will decide…"

"The Seven did decide." Luke replied calmly. "After I rebuilt the Sept on Dragonstone, I prayed to the Warrior to bless my conquest. I asked the Father to judge me worthy of the burden that the crown would bring and I asked the Smith to keep my weapons and armour free from blemish. And then I crossed the sea to Westeros and took it for myself. The Seven blessed me, and the High Septon crowned me as Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, chosen by the Gods to lead us all into the coming storms." The King took a deep breath and stood taller. "You spoke treason against your anointed King, and for that you will die. Your followers will stand down or suffer the same fate. I am a patient man, High Sparrow, but I am not a forgiving one."

The King turned around and was a couple of steps closer to the cell door when the High Sparrow responded. "And what of the wrath of the faithful, Your Grace? I am willing to die, but mobs certainly are perilous for Kings."

"It will not come to that." Luke insisted, continuing his movement out the door and breathing happier when the cell door slammed shut behind him.


The King was the first inside the Small Council chamber, and so he was left waiting for his advisors to arrive one by one, with Prince Oberyn being the final man to enter the room and sit himself down. His wife and sister were also in attendance, and so Luke looked around at the full table before he began proceedings. "My Lords, my Ladies, it has been a while since we have all sat down at this table together, although hopefully we shall not be forced to run a skeleton council for quite some time."

"Welcome back, Your Grace." Jon stated. "And to you Lord Monford, and Ser Barristan."

"I am sure I have missed much while I was in the North, though I would like to be the one to begin." Luke told them all. "The peace brokered with the Wildlings will stand. Until the incoming threat from the North is dealt with, they shall remain in the Gift. I have tasked Lord Celtigar to be my representative on the border to ensure that peace is upheld."

"Is it wise to trust the Wildlings, Your Grace?" Mace Tyrell asked. "These whispers of ice monsters and zombies… it seems a convenient excuse to be invited into our lands to murder us all."

Luke had expected this type of question. "I have spoken with more than just Mance Rayder, Lord Tyrell. The Night's Watch have first hand experience with the White Walkers. They are as real as you or I, and I would not close my eyes to them." He turned to Jon. "I want a mining programme set up on Dragonstone. We need as much obsidian as we can get our hands on, and smiths to forge it into arrowheads, spear tips and daggers."

Jon nodded, noting it down. "We shall need an overseer."

"Find me some suitable names and I shall pick one." The King instructed. "Lord Velaryon, I trust we can rely on you to ferry the obsidian to the North?"

Lord Monford nodded. "I shall pick out the very fastest merchant ships in my arsenal, Your Grace." The Master of Ships stated.

Luke smiled, leaning back happily. "Good. Then I open up the floor."

Mace Tyrell cleared his throat exaggeratedly. "Your Grace, I have received a missive from Braavos. The Iron Bank has decided to ask for an advancement on the debt repayments."

"I'm paying them already for the Lannister's debts." Luke grumbled. "Tell them to go to Casterly Rock if they want us to send more."

"The Iron Bank do not care who pays the money." Prince Oberyn told them all. "Only that it is owed."

"We do not want to make an enemy of the Iron Bank, Your Grace." Jon stated.

Luke knew that, but it frustrated him all the same. "Where are we at with all the repayments?"

Mace Tyrell cleared his throat again. "With the Lannister debt written off, and the steady repayments to the Iron Bank and the Faith… we remain a little over 2 million gold dragons in debt to various sources."

"List them, Lord Tyrell." Daenerys stated.

"600,000 to the Faith." Mace Tyrell checked off. "250,000 to House Tyrell after the dowry agreement, and 1.2 million to the Iron Bank of Braavos."

Luke sighed, bringing his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What are we sending the Iron Bank as it stands?"

"10,500 Gold Dragons every month, Your Grace." Mace Tyrell explained. "The initial terms agreed were 10,000 as well as the 500 Dragons in interest. They would like us to change this to include an extra 5,000 Dragons per month."

Luke bristled. "Can the treasury bare that expense?"

Mace Tyrell began to shuffle his notes. "It will be tight with Winter on its way… but the difference between the two term offers is substantial, over 50,000… and we'd be finished with the payments in two thirds of the time of our current deal."

"Lord Tyrell, could you lend the gold each month to cover the difference?" Jon Connington asked.

Mace Tyrell nodded. "I could."

"Then do so. Paying the Iron Bank is the most pressing matter, once we are done with them or winter is at an end, we shall see to it that House Tyrell's leal service towards aiding the Crown is rewarded." Jon stated, and Luke hid his grin behind his hand at how easily Jon had navigated the situation. "Grand Maester, write back to the Iron Bank and agree to their new terms. Be flowery, we need to keep them onside when Winter comes."

"My Lord Hand." Gormon bowed.

"Also send a raven to Storm's End." Luke said, causing Jon Connington to sit rigidly in surprise.

"Your Grace?" The Lord of Storm's End and Hand of the King questioned.

Luke turned to Jon. "We have a period of preparation now, but sooner or later the dead will come and we shall need every able-bodied man to fight it, including you. If you fall, what will happen to Storm's End or the Stormlands? You hold it peacefully because you wed the Usurper's niece, and she is 15 now. It is high time you put a babe in her belly and secured the castle for House Connington for the future." He saw Jon about to argue, and firmly stepped in. "I want no arguments, Jon, you are hardly the first man asked to wed a girl for her claims, and you will not be the last. I need Storm's End secure under your rule, so you shall put a babe in her."

Jon took a deep breath as he glared at the King, but Luke was used to his mentor's ire and held the gaze with a glare of his own until the Stormlander backed down and nodded. "Very well, send for the child, Grand Maester."

"Your Grace, Lord Hand." Gormon bowed, scratching the orders on some parchment.

Silence followed the scratching of the quill, and so Luke cleared his throat to begin dismissing his Council when voices began to be raised from outside of the doors, and swords were starting to be drawn. "His Grace HAS to know!" He heard a Dornishman cry out.

"Daemon…" Oberyn whispered.

"Let him in!" Luke shouted, and almost immediately the doors swung open, and Luke saw Ser Rolly and Ser Raymund had their swords partially unsheathed. Ser Daemon Sand shrugged them off of him as he walked boldly into the room. "Ser Daemon, what is the meaning of the interruption?"

"Trouble, Your Grace. On such a scale that means I must share it with you, as the Gold Cloaks alone may not be enough." Ser Daemon stated. "You and a strong force are required at the Sept of Baelor…"


True to his words to Lucerys Targaryen back in Castle Black, Robb Stark had made an effort to get to know his wife since his return to Winterfell. They broke their fast every morning together in their marital chambers and since the news of Lysa Arryn's death had reached the North, he had taken to joining her in her duties, taking over from his grieving Mother.

Whilst things were different than they had been before, Robb actually enjoyed the day to day mundaneness that was Winterfell. He trained with Rickon in a morning and went over his duties in an afternoon, before using the evening to either catch up on anything he had missed or spent it at his own leisure, which often involved watching Arya train with her blacksmith friend from the same balcony that his own Father had stood watching them as children. Thankfully for him, tonight was one of the latter nights. His youngest sister was trying to help Gendry with the sword, although her style of dancing around her opponent just didn't suit the tall and bulky blacksmith. Robb was even thinking about perhaps going down and aiding them himself when he heard footsteps from behind him, and he turned to see his wife.

"My Lady." Robb greeted.

Roslin curtseyed. "My Lord."

He waited for her to join him at the banister and they settled into a soft silence, with the only noise being the clashing of training swords from down below. "My own mother and father used to stand here as I trained with Jon and…" The name of the traitor died on the tip of his tongue. "I always used to feel nervous when he was there watching my every move, but now I would give anything to have just one more moment like that. Being back here in Winterfell… it's a strange feeling."

"It is strange for me too." Roslin admitted. "I felt so crowded at the Twins, and my father would very rarely allow the girls any luxuries at all. To be here and have so much space has been liberating." She sighed. "Though I still feel within the grip of my Father." She held out her hand to show Robb a raven scroll with the dark blue wax seal of the Twins. "Addressed to you."

Robb took the parchment and broke the seal, unfurling it to read the words. "He wants to start arranging Arya's marriage for next year." He summarised through clenched teeth. "I had hoped for more time." He sighed dramatically. "What do you know of Waldron?"

"He is a boastful boy." Roslin stated quickly. "Ever since the betrothal was announced he has been getting arrogant, at first boasting about marrying a Princess, now just that she will be a Stark. He is young yet, but I never enjoyed his company."

Robb shook his head. "Your Father should be content with this match, why he forced a second on us…" He trailed off. "Forgive me, I should not speak ill of your blood."

"We all do it." Roslin shrugged. "You speak no harshly than his own children. My Father is a perverse, greedy man that tried to breed an army, yet has only created an atmosphere that will descend into war once he is gone."

Robb chuckled lightly, turning to see Gendry whack Arya hard around the kneecaps. The blacksmith looked up at him alarmed, though Robb simply applauded thrice to show that he wasn't in any trouble. "You know him better than I, what can I do that will persuade him to postpone?"

Roslin turned around to lean her back on the banister as she thought. "I know you wish to keep your sister close after all you have been through, but a fostering may be the only way."

"I was afraid of that." Robb sighed. "You are right, I've lost enough family and Mother is still grieving her sister. Her children being so close is a comfort to her."

"If I may…" Roslin began. "What about the Mormont's? They seem like they would be a dream fit for Arya's personality, whilst being far enough away that even my father wouldn't arrange for a party to visit."

Robb nodded, having had the same thoughts himself. "A fine idea, My Lady. I shall leave you to discuss it with Maester Corwin?" He asked, wanting to give Roslin more trust. Roslin smiled as she nodded. "And… if you like… I was planning to go for a ride in the Wolfswood tomorrow morning. I would be most pleased if you would join me… to get to know our lands."

He felt like the pause of surprise on his wife's face lasted almost an hour despite it being mere seconds, but she eventually nodded. "I would like that, My Lord."

Grinning, Robb placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Then I shall see you then." He told her. "But now I must go and teach that pair a lesson."

Roslin chuckled, and bowed her head as Robb parted, the Stark feeling a lot better about his new, southern wife than he had done since he had spoken his vows.


The square beneath the Sept of Baelor was rammed with people, and the Gold Cloaks already in attendance had been forced to create a manned barrier to allow a now fully armoured Luke, his Kingsguard and his hundred red cloaks space to form up beneath the steps to the great Sept. The King scowled as he looked up, seeing hundreds of black robed men with various weaponry staring down at them. The stairs to the Sept of Baelor went up three levels, and on the first level beside the dozen Sparrows with crossbows trained down at the gathered Targaryen force were two spikes, one featuring the torso of an old man with the word 'SINNER' carved into his chest, and another with the very recognisable head of the High Septon.

"By the Gods…" Ser Barristan whispered beside the King.

Luke scowled and urged his horse a couple of paces forwards. "YOU WILL ALL SURRENDER YOUR ARMS AND COME QUIETLY." He called out. "THIS… DEMONSTRATION, IS AT AN END."

One man from the second level of steps began to descend them. "I do not think so." He said.

"That's Ser Theodan Wells." Daemon Sand said from behind the King. "He's Dornish, Theodan the True we call him."

"Ser Theodan." Luke called up. "You lead these men?"

"The Father Above leads us." Ser Theodan stated. "I only carry out his wishes."

"And he wished you to murder his representative on this world?" Luke asked, as he noticed a pair of arms on the second level and a pair of legs on the third. "To quarter his representative brutally?"

Ser Theodan smiled unnervingly. "This man was a sinner, a false prophet that blasphemed the Gods and allowed a man such as yourself to rule over us true sons and daughters of the Seven. The Father wished us to free this city from the fist of such men."

Luke rolled his eyes. "We have your leader in custody. Stand down and I promise leniency. We can come together and discuss this without any further bloodshed. Refuse, and you will leave me no choice."

Ser Theodan's smile still hadn't left his lips. "You offer us mercy, yet murder children without trial. We know of your treatment of the Baratheon bastard at Rosby, Your Grace. Forgive me if I treat your words with the mistrust they deserve. The High Sparrow may be in your custody, but alas he is but one man, and we are the many that serve the Seven. Execute him for made up crimes all you like; it will not stop the rise of the Faithful."

The murmurings and agreements from the gathered crown behind Luke left a bitter taste in his mouth, but none more so than the cries that came towards him of 'sister fucker' and 'abomination'. With a clenched jaw, Luke stated. "Very well. You leave me no choice." Turning to Ser Daemon Sand, he said. "Arrest every man upon those steps in black, but I want no bloodshed, not here."

"As you command, Your Grace." Ser Daemon bowed. "CITY WATCH! ADVANCE!" The Dornish knight cried, and the Gold Cloaks not forming the barrier all withdrew their cudgels and shields before advancing in lines of five up the steps.

Ser Theodan still had the twisted grin upon his face. "My friends!" He called. "The abomination King wishes to beat us into submission, may the Warrior grant you courage to fight off the heathen!"

Then a crossbow bolt was loosed, striking a Gold Cloak clean in the face and dropping him to the ground instantly. "Shit!" Luke swore, his horse rearing up. "TAKE THEM ALL!" He cried out again, acknowledging the fact that these men wouldn't even need a change of clothes when they were all shipped up to the Wall. He was imaging Theodan shivering atop the Wall when all of a sudden he felt like he had been punched in the left shoulder with such a force that he twisted around and fell off of the side of his horse.

"PROTECT THE KING!" Ser Barristan roared, though Luke was barely hearing anything around him as he was encircled by White Cloaks. The pain was just too intense, and as Luke recollected himself on the ground, he noticed that a bolt was protruding out of his shoulder. "Get him away, Ser Franklyn!"

"Come on Your Grace." Ser Franklyn Flowers had knelt down and grabbed Luke's unaffected arm, hauling the King unceremoniously over his shoulder before dumping him on the back of a horse. Luke heard a number of thuds on shields, but as the horse was kicked into a gallop, Luke's vision failed him and the Targaryen King blacked out.


Luke is thrilled at the prospect of dragons hatching naturally as you can see, though that scene was mainly to reintroduce him at King's Landing and to have that chat with Margaery. He finds it ridiculous that people would think anything of him and Daenerys, but nobody else is inside his mind…

The High Sparrow is such an interesting character that I feel I can very rarely do justice, but I think both he and Luke made some excellent points in their scene together.

The amount I spent on payment plans whilst writing this chapter… The Iron Bank truly are a scary prospect if they've gotten me to do some maths! I enjoy the Small Council scenes in both the show and in writing them, as I enjoyed this one, resetting the table and allowing myself to explain the goings on in the world that wouldn't be big or entertaining enough for a scene.

After his talk with Luke at Castle Black, I didn't want Robb to rush back and be completely in love with Roslin so he's taken things slowly, though I did want her to start proving herself to him and proving her loyalty is now to House Stark, so by having Roslin come up with the idea on how to push back Arya's betrothal I felt Robb would start trusting her more and being more open, which will come starting next chapter.

It's a different sort of Sparrows in this story. In the main show they were handed power and became a force through that, this time however I'm utilising a knight from the books that joined the Warriors Sons and using him as a militant leader. Their goal is to reclaim the Faith and rid the Capital of sinners, starting with the High Septon before they get enough movement to move on the Red Keep. The Sept of Baelor in the show is a very easily defended spot and the Sparrows have the high ground. This won't be fixed quickly…

I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter!

Next time: The aftermath of the troubles by the Sept, while Jon Snow seeks out the advice of Maester Aemon…

Reviews:

suppes1: I guess you'll have to keep reading to see!

aegon Targaryen17: Perhaps, I'm taking inspiration from lot of aspects of Targaryen history.

Xman123: They can, but that wouldn't endear them to the public and we saw in the show and in Fire and Blood what happens if you make an enemy of the Faith.

C.E.W: Luke is caught a little bit though. He wants peace in the realm but he also wants his sister with him because he's been without her for so long. I'm not going to say anything about the future for Daenerys… As for the Daemon/Rhea OC, Viserys' child will obviously have a different name as he isn't trying to anger Daemon at the time like Rhaenyra was with Alicent. I'm sticking more to book canon I think, unless the show really compels me in an interesting way. I've not really characterised yet very much, but so far in the plan he's caught between wanting Daemon's approval and just wanting him to leave Baelon alone. I got what you meant about Rhaenyra and Alicent. The dragon Baelon claims won't be the Cannibal…

MeteorElDrago: I'm not just pulling from the Dance, but all kinds of Targaryen history.

SpartanWolfj6: You shall!

Darbiboi: There were never as many living Targaryen's as towards the end of Jaehaerys' reign, and so eggs hatching wasn't uncommon. Here however we've got to remember that while there are 4 dragons, only one has been ridden, three are bonded and there were only two separate hatchings, as Valaxes, Rhaegal and Viserion all hatched at the same time. I think I'm alright for the ideas on my Dance OC story thank you, I have an idea on if I decide to go Black, and then another if I decide to go Green.

TheRagFromTheCrag: It's not unprecedented no, though Joffrey Lydden became the Lord of Casterly Rock, in this case after Oberyn it would be one of the Sand Snakes in their own right, not just as a consort. That scene was brutal yes, but necessary to show the kind of lawful chaos that Daemon is all about.

TehStorm: As of this chapter we're around 5x04. The dragons aren't growing slowly really, they're growing at the same pace as the show. Dany has been flying for a while but Luke is bigger and heavier so hasn't tried it yet. Margaery doesn't assume she's equal to the King, but she does believe that as Queen she has power, which is true. She's not just a brood mare.

Jason Kreuger Myers: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Dany is Valyrian, and superiority is a common thread between the people of that race. If Margaery had said that, then (this version of) Dany would have replied. "Why don't you ask your Lord Father that question, My Queen. He commanded an army 100,000 strong that sat feasting outside of Storm's End whilst my brother was killed by the Usurper, and while my baby niece and nephew were brutalised by traitors, did he not?"