Storm's End 301 AC.
Stannis Baratheon.
They'd buried Robert with all the courtesy and dignity that his brother at times was so lacking. Stannis and the defeated Stormlords had marched back to Storm's End chastened and yet hopeful at the same time. Their fate was a far better one than any of them could have imagined given they'd been so soundly defeated and few in truth had actually mourned their fallen king. He both did and did not and was far happier to arrive and see his wife, daughter, and brother all awaiting him upon his return.
Renly was unharmed, other than his pride. While Tyana and Shireen were both just relieved that it had been Robert and not he who'd fallen. They held a feast to say their goodbyes to their king, and a small service where he was entombed in their family crypt. Stannis had then spoken briefly to his Bannermen and explained once again what their oaths of fealty to him and to the new king and queen truly meant. He had left them in no doubts that he intended to live up to those oaths and had spoken of Harrenhal, Harren the Black, and Robert himself in order to drive home the futility of even considering denying them.
His brother had bristled and though he'd kept his tongue until their Bannermen had left, he'd certainly not done so once they had.
"You truly intend to accept the dragons as your king and queen? Have you gone soft brother mine?"
"Mind your tongue, brother." he snapped, quietening Renly a little "Be thankful you were not with us on our march. Else I'd be mourning two brothers and not one."
"I was not with you because the fucking dragon sent men to kidnap me, lest you forget."
"I forget it not. I had no wish to march against the dragon when the letter came threatening your life, Renly. I pleaded with Robert to no avail."
"He threatened my life?" Renly asked only now understanding how lucky he truly was.
"He did. Yet he harmed you not other than your pride and released you once I knelt and swore fealty to him and his wife."
"It was part of the conditions?" Renly asked softly.
"It was. Had he harmed you, then I know not what I'd have done. Robert was a fool, our brother true, but a fool all the same. Oh, I bristled and would have found it hard to bend my knee simply because Aemon Targaryen willed me to do so. Yet the thoughts of Storm's End falling as easily as Harrenhal did or Tyana and Shireen having to face the world without me...no, in the end, I'm relieved it went how it did."
"Robert?"
"Would have seen us ruined, brother. You know it as well as I do. He'd been waiting for this war all his life and nothing or no one could have stopped him from waging it. Even with your head on the line, it mattered not."
He could see how much it hurt his brother to know how little Robert had truly cared for his safety. Yet Renly did his best to hide it and soon enough he'd hidden it well enough to continue and speak on other things, more practical things.
"What does this mean for us, Stannis? For the Stormlands and Storm's End? For our House?"
He'd told him and it had comforted him a little, or so Stannis had believed. In truth, there were few differences between what they were now and what they'd once been. True, they no longer wore a crown or could name themselves kings or princes. Yet in so many other ways they'd be better off. Trade to the Empire would be opened up to them even more now and any who dealt with the Targaryens were never short of coin. Things that had been put off for far too long could finally be seen to. Though he was loathed to admit it, without Robert to drain their treasury and spend their coin on feasts, whores, and hunts, they'd soon be in a better position than they'd been since their parents passed and Robert was named king.
In far less time than he may have imagined, he'd even gotten over the grief he felt at Robert's loss. If anything it was Ser Barristan that was more missed at Storm's End than his brother was. Stannis had sent letters of condolences to House Farring, House Horpe, and House Connington, naming their kin as good men and true who'd died for their king. He confirmed Ser Ronnet as the new lord of Griffin's Roost and thanked him and the others for the services their kin had done for his House.
With that done, he set about putting the Stormlands and Storm's End to rights. Renly was now his second and while he'd not serve as Hand as he had, his brother would be involved in every decision regarding House Baratheon from here on in. He and Tyana began to seriously discuss who may be a good match for their daughter, even if it was to be far in the future before Shireen was wed. The truth of things was that she would now be seen as an even bigger prize to some and the last thing he or his wife would ever do is see her wed to a man not worthy of her.
He'd just woken from a good night's sleep. Tyana was laying in bed beside him and sleeping still. Ever since he'd returned from the battlefield, he and his wife had lain together almost every night. Be it the thoughts of them never seeing each other again or mayhap an attempt to once again seek to see if her womb would quicken and Shireen would be blessed with a brother or sister, he knew or cared not. The peace and contentment he'd feel laying in his bed beside his wife were just as welcome to him as the pleasure he got from them laying together or the thoughts of what that laying together could bring. With a soft kiss to her cheek, he rose and dressed and had just left his rooms when he spied Maester Cressen hurrying his way. The raven's scroll in his hand made Stannis shiver just a little as the old adage about dark wings and dark words came to mind.
"My lord. From House Targaryen." Cressen said as he handed him the raven's scroll, the two-headed entwined dragon seal still unbroken.
Less than an hour later he sat in his solar and awaited his brother's arrival. Unlike him, Renly was not an early riser and had needed to be woken up. As he waited he looked at the words written on the scroll and he shuddered just a little. He'd hoped not to see war again and certainly not so soon, yet now here it was and it came damnable close to his doors once again. Stannis had no need for maps or figures representing what each of the Houses of the Stormlands could bring, he knew them by heart and knew too that he'd not be able to bring all to bear. It would be at most half his men and should the Dornish Army march as fully as he feared, and alone it would not be enough. The words on the scroll made it clear that he'd not be alone and so he had to accept that, did he not?
Lord Stannis,
We call you and your men to arms, my lord. Bid you to march and to delay the army that marches to invade the Reach. An army I'm shamed to say is led by my kin. Gather as many men as you can, Lord Stannis, Harry, and Hassle, and put an obstacle in front of the army that seeks to sow discord among our peaceful kingdoms. Do so with the knowledge that you'll not be forced to fight alone and that a dragon will soon come to your aid.
There is more I would say and yet now is not the time. I'll not remind you of the oath you swore to my husband and me, only to say it means much to us to have you on our side. Loyalty is not, nor shall it ever be forgotten by my husband and I Lord Stannis. While I may wish we had no need to call upon yours so quickly, events force my hand. I vow to end this threat quickly and with as little loss to the Stormlands as possible. Be as safe as your gods allow and know you have mine own and my husband's gratitude.
Rhaenys Targaryen,
Queen of Westeros.
One week later.
There had been no argument from his brother and no suggestion from Maester Cressen or Ser Cortnay that they refuse the call. When Stannis had sent his ravens out and bid men join him on the march, not a single one of them had refused. The Lord of the Storm had called and the Men of the Storm had answered. So while he marched with a smaller army than Robert had marched against the dragons, in some ways he marched with a truer one too.
This army felt no doubts about the fight they may soon be having. There was no conflict and no question among any of his Bannermen that they should not do as they were. Even the three houses who'd lost men in the Trial of Seven had answered the call. Other than his brother who he'd asked to stay behind and manage Storm's End and to be there for his wife and daughter while he could not, every Lord and Knight had come that had marched north with Robert. He took some pride in that, even if he wished that they and he had no need to march at all.
They sent outriders out and the news they brought back was not good. Stannis had close to 10,000 men in his army, while the Dornish had more than twice that number. The ground they would pick to make their stand and the dragon he'd been promised, he needed both to win any battle. Yet as they set up camp and placed themselves right in the path of the Dornish army, as he sent men to organize a parley, he felt there would either be no battle at all. Or should they be one, it would be Dornish blood that was spilled and not that of Stormlander's.
Highgarden 301 AC.
Olenna Tyrell.
Each morning she awoke, it would be to her balcony she'd go to before she even dressed or thought about breaking her fast. During the day or before she went to bed at night, she'd find herself either standing on the balcony looking at the sky or looking out her window hoping for the sight of dragons flying her way. Preparations had been made to face the army that marched towards her. Yet in truth without the dragons, she was lost.
No raven had arrived, no word from the king or queen that they were on their way, and she, Willas, and most especially Mace worried what that meant. To her surprise, Margaery very much did not. Her granddaughter was resolute in her belief that the Dragonknight and Queen Rhaenys would not leave them alone to face the armies that marched their way. Olenna had heard her say more than once that the Old Lion and the Dornish Snake would find they'd pulled on the dragon's tail and the dragon would answer in fire and blood.
"How can you be so certain?" she asked annoyed at her granddaughter's surety when she had little of her own.
"Even were Gwayne and I not to have become friends with them, grandmother. The politics alone demands it."
"You think they'd come because you were friends?" she snapped, not having heard the second part.
"That's not what I said, grandmother." Margaery retorted and was Olenna not as worried as she was, she may have given her granddaughter a piece of her mind for answering her so. Instead, she simply bid her continue "It's true, I believe that Queen Rhaenys especially considers me a friend, or seeks me to be one. She made that clear enough when we spoke at Bitterbridge. Yet as I said." Margaery emphasized, "The politics demand it too."
"How so?" she asked curiously.
"Not only are we one of their kingdoms and their allies, but the Reach is too valuable to fall into Tywin Lannister's hands. While their graces were favorable in their demands of us, Tywin would strip us bare and coin can cause problems for even the strongest foe." Margaery began "Yet it's the message it sends to the other kingdoms, grandmother. If the Lannisters could take the Reach without facing a Dragon's Wrath, what's to stop them from taking the Vale or the North? Why should we kneel and swear allegiance to a king and queen who offered us no protection when we are threatened so? How many Lords and Ladies would utter those words should the Reach fall, grandmother?"
"And what if the dragons care not for Lords and Ladies who utter such words?" she asked, though she'd long since taken her granddaughter's point.
"Then they'll find themselves the rulers of naught," Margaery said.
She'd needed the words. Just as she had, when Garlan and Gwayne had left with large escorts to gather men and make ready for any battle that was to come. As she had, Loras then being placed in charge of the defenses of Highgarden itself along with Willas. Yet still, each day she looked to the sky and prayed to see a dragon flying her way, and finally, on the one day she'd not done so, her prayers had been answered.
"Dragons, grandmother," Margaery said happily after she'd burst into her rooms unannounced.
Rising to her feet, Olenna moved far more quickly than she usually did. Left and Right cleared the path in front of her and with Margaery by her side, they soon made their way to the courtyard. She caught sight of the dragons as soon as she reached it. To her dismay, it was only two and the Dragonknight's was not one of them. Olenna found herself hoping that Aemon Targaryen had already set about unleashing the Blood Wyrm's flames on Lions and Snakes and readied herself to welcome the queen and the princess to Highgarden.
Mace, Alerie, Willas, and Loras had all arrived by the time the dragon's hand landed. Her grandson then rushed off to escort the queen and princess to them from the place within the labyrinth where they'd done so. It took far more time than she expected and she welcomed seeing Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Barristan, and yet frowned upon seeing the dark-skinned Unsullied who usually followed after the Dragonknight like a shadow.
"Highgarden is yours, your grace," Margaery said with a curtsy as around her everyone took a knee.
"I thank you, Lady Margaery. Please rise, there is much we need to discuss."
They spent no time at all outside once the queen had spoken. Margaery led them to the reception room they'd put aside and Olenna was surprised when both Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur stayed in the room along with the Unsullied guard. Briefly, she felt a little put out that they believed they were needed or thought the queen and princess were in danger from them. Very soon it became clear that it was not for this purpose they were here at all. Instead, it was to offer tactical and practical advice about the battles or war to come.
"Is his grace not joining us, your grace?" Willas asked.
"My husband has his own duties to attend to, Lord Willas. I'm afraid my aunt and I will have to suffice." Rhaenys replied.
"And most grateful are we to have you both here, your grace," Margaery added quickly before the queen could think they weren't grateful that she had come.
"I wish it was not for this reason I came to your home, Lady Margaery. Highgarden is as beautiful as Lord Gwayne and you both said it was and I wish we had the time to appreciate that beauty more, alas…"
"Mayhap after, your grace," Margaery said and Rhaenys smiled at her.
"Indeed. Very well to business then." Rhaenys sighed "We've sent word to Lord Stannis and bid him call his banners and march them against the Dornish Army."
"You have, your grace," Olenna said relieved.
"We have. They should be enough to delay until me, my aunt or both of us can offer them aid. Our own forces march, though they do so with few numbers, and so it'll be men of the Reach we call upon more than any. Your banners have been called I assume?"
"They have your grace. My husband and brother are gathering them as we speak." Margaery replied.
"Good. Though truthfully we know it'll be dragons that end this war and not men at arms which is why my aunt and I will lead from the front." Rhaenys said and Olenna though she wished it was the Dragonknight doing so, was more than happy to have two dragons to call upon.
"Ser Barristan, myself, and Torgho Nudho will offer our own aid to your forces and take command of some of them while Thoros of Myr leads the Flames of the Dragon and will hopefully join up with us long before the fight begins. We'll set about ensuring that Highgarden is secured before we march." Ser Arthur said.
"I've begun to make preparations for such, Ser Arthur, along with my brother," Willas interjected.
"Mayhap you and Ser Barristan could go over what you've done so far, Lord Willas." the queen said and Willas nodded before replying.
"Your grace."
Olenna listened keenly as the queen spoke about the preparations that would need to be made and while she didn't speak yet on a battle plan, it was clear in what she did say that she had one. Once it was done and Margaery offered to see Rhaenys and Daenerys to the rooms they had prepared for them while Willas moved with Ser Barristan to see to the defenses. Olenna then bid Alerie see to the night's dining arrangements.
Soon enough she was alone and again it was the balcony that she made her way to. Standing there looking out on the lands below her, she wore a smile on her face where there had been a concern and worry only these last few days. She'd called and the dragons had come and Tywin Lannister would soon find that gold melted and lions even old ones, burned.
Ocean Road 301 AC.
Tywin Lannister.
All his missives confirmed it and though he'd already known it or wouldn't have marched, it did relieve him to read it from so many different sources. The Dragonknight had left and flown east and would not return in time to be a factor in this war. Or to be more precise, by the time he did return, Tywin would have done enough to make him a non-factor. He had no doubt that they'd crush the Reach's army. For his men were well trained and disciplined, and other than those under Randall Tarly, his enemies were not. Given what he'd been told by the man himself, he had no need to worry about Randall Tarly anymore.
The addition of his and other forces who were loyal not to the Tyrells or even the Reach itself but to the Faith was a welcome one. Even though they didn't march with him it mattered not. For if all they did was sow discord amongst the Reach's ranks and bring Rhaenys Targaryen and her dragon down upon them, then they'd serve their purpose. Not that Tywin was bothered about Rhaenys Targaryen and her dragon. As all his reports had told him that they'd never brought their flames to bear either in Essos or since they'd arrived in Westeros.
It was yet another reason why he was certain they'd win the battles to come. The Targaryens in their hubris had allowed the Dragonknight to not only be their spear and shield but their only response to any threat. Their other dragons and their riders had gotten lazy and were untrained in the art of war. Either would get you killed when you came up against men who were not. Men that he had in abundance and as they set up camp, he found himself more excited than he had been for many a year. He'd dreamed a dream as a younger man and though recently he'd worried somewhat that a dream was all it would remain, now he believed even more truly that it was about to come true.
"The outriders have been sent out, your grace." Ser Addam Marbrand said and Tywin nodded back at his Goodson.
In less than an hour, he no longer wore his armor and was sitting at his desk in his tent. Tywin took a quick look through the few missives he'd not read while ahorse, happy to see they contradicted not any of the ones he had read. Then he made ready for the night's meal. Kevan and Gerion soon joined him along with Jaime and Tyrion, before the most important of his Bannermen too made their way to his tent. They dined on good fare, though it was far from a feast, and the drink though plentiful was not allowed to be drunk to excess.
After dinner was done, he asked some to stay back and let them more into his plans. Thus far he'd simply told them they were to take the fight to the Reach and little more than that. They knew of their Dornish allies, but not what plans he and Doran had agreed to. In truth, Tywin knew they were more concerned about the dragons than they were about what forces would gather under Lord Gwayne Gardner and the Tyrells. A man who willingly gave up his crown and green boys who'd never truly fought, Tywin thought dismissively. It was time to let them know some of what he knew. Though only his family would ever learn close to the full extent of Tywin's knowledge.
"It's been confirmed that the Dragonknight has left these shores and returned east." Tywin began.
"He's given up his fool conquest?" Lord Banefort asked and Tywin glared at the man shutting him up.
"No, his wife remains," Kevan said when Tywin nodded at him to do so.
"She will soon have her own issues to face. The Faith wishes no part of a sister and brother who lay together and has chosen a champion to see them pay for their sins. A champion who is more than capable to cause, Rhaenys Targaryen many problems." he said before pausing for effect "Randyll Tarly."
Looking around the room, he could see the smiles on most of the faces, and yet for some reason, both Jaime and Tyrion were not joining in. Had they been alone, he may have asked why that was, but he had much more work to do.
"Even should she manage to deal with Tarly quickly, which I doubt any of us here believe she will, then who would she seek to face next, my lords? Us or her kin who march too?"
It was yet another of the true advantages that the Dragonknight's departure had gifted him. Were Aemon Targaryen still here and had Tywin marched unknowingly, then it would be to him and his army that the Dragonknight would come to face first and foremost. A true tactician would take care of the greatest threat and leave the lesser one to be dealt with at his convenience. Rhaenys Targaryen was a woman and not only did women not understand how to wage or win a war, but they were too emotional by half. Her anger and distress at her family for rising against her would be yet another nail in the coffin of her and her husband's conquest.
"My son, Prince Jaime will depart on the morrow with a quarter of our men and form the Vanguard. My brother Prince Gerion will take a quarter of our me and seek to join him from the east while I myself will lead the main body of our men from the west. Highgarden is the goal, my lords, the Tyrell Queen, and her family the targets. Heads or hostages, I care not." he said as he brought the meeting to an end.
In truth, he wished for hostages and so Jaime would see to their capture long before the main force of their army arrived to truly crush those who stood in their way. With Margaery Tyrell and her mother under his control, House Hightower would yield and he'd have no need to sack Oldtown, earning him even more favor with the Faith. Without them, well he didn't truly care for anyone's favor but his own and if need be, he'd see the city in flames before he was done.
Waiting until the tent was empty of any but family, Tywin looked down at the map once more. Dorne's army should be passing through the Prince's Pass and other than at Nightsong, they would face no obstacle until Ashford. He'd wager however that the Dornish army would march east from Nightsong and past Horn Hill, meaning that it would be Uplands or Honeyholt that their first real test would come. More than that it would keep his right flank protected. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was and he'd send a message to them before he took to his bed to see that was so. The lie he'd put in that message claiming that the bulk of the Reach's forces marched towards them, should be more than enough to bring about the outcome he desired.
"Margaery and her mother, Jaime. One or both of them I wish alive," he said repeating the orders he'd given his son already.
"And the others?" his son asked eagerly.
"I care not."
He turned to look at his brother. Gerion was standing far too nonchalantly for Tywin's taste, but he knew that he'd do as he was bid and once the fight itself came, then he'd be far more concentrated on it than anything else.
"Ensure that there are no surprises coming from the east other than the one you yourself lead, Gerion. Support Jaime's attack only when you're completely certain of it."
"I will."
"Kevan and I will lead the men in a quick march, but you both may face the brunt of any resistance. Crush them and show them why it's Lions and not Dragons who truly roar loudest of all."
"And what of the dragon, father?" Tyrion asked, his voice annoying him a little "Can we be certain that the Dragonknight won't return or that we'll be in such a position of power should he do so that his return will be rendered moot?"
"After we've defeated the Reach's forces and added its men and coin to our own, we'll have an army twice the size we have now. Dragons are powerful things, Tyrion, but men win wars and once we've shown that we can do so, the other kingdoms will seek to ally against this upstart from the East. What is he going to do, burn us all?" he asked half japing.
"Mayhap," Tyrion said softly.
Tywin looked not at his son and instead dismissed them all from his tent. He feared not the Dragonknight, not given the problems he'd caused for him in the east. Aemon Targaryen would be so busy dealing with them that Tywin would have taken the entire seven kingdoms by the time he returned. With luck, he'd have taken his wife from him too and Rhaenys Targaryen would reside deep in the bowels of Casterly Rock alongside Margaery and Alerie Tyrell. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he sipped it while sitting at his desk, enjoying the taste of it on his tongue. Other than the taste he was soon to enjoy, it was as pleasant a one as he knew. Though the taste of victory would be all that much sweeter and victory drew ever closer.
The Conquest of Westeros XLIX
Dorne and The Reach.
Forever contentious, the relationship between Dorne and the Reach was one filled with blood and loss. Incursions from both sides, attacks, large-scale conflicts, and petty disputes, over the years both regions had known their share of both. The bounties that the Reach possessed were ever looked upon avariciously by those in Dorne. Their own lands were harsher and far less fruitful and oft times it's easier to take from another than to grow for yourself.
Yet it was truly the fraught relationships with the primary Houses that produced most of the bad will and caused most of the spilled blood. House Gardener and House Tyrell had both lost much to the Dornish Princes and their vassals. It was the Dornish who had sacked Highgarden and who slay King Garth Greybeard as he lay whimpering in his bed. An event that only fuelled the desire of those who sat the Oakenseat.
Some years later be it in an act of belated vengeance or a forlorn search for justice, an army led by Harlan Tyrell marched into Dorne and took the Uller seat of Hellholt. Harlan's aim was much higher though and buoyed by his victory, he set his sights on Sunspear only to find the deserts to be an unforgiving and deadly place. What happened to him and his army is unknown to this day. Though it's said the desert simply swallowed them up.
Many years after that, a descendant of his, Lyonel Tyrell, marched an army and took the Prince's Pass. Allied with Lord Qorgyle of Sandstone together they won many victories and it seemed that on his king's behalf, Lyonel Tyrell would be the man to bow, break and bend House Martell and its Vassals. Yet it's not just the deserts of Dorne that make the Dornish such dangerous foes, but their nature too. Laying in his curtained bed, Lyonel Tyrell pulled a cord so he could block out the sun and rest easy for the night, little knowing that it was to lead to his doom. A hundred red scorpions fell upon him and death was painful and a long time coming.
Betrayal, subterfuge, harsh conditions and a willingness to do whatever it takes are what kept Dorne a free and independent land for so long. Yet for all their experience in such dark arts, they were in truth novices at them. Westeros is not Essos you see and to win wars against the foes the Empire has faced over the years, such tactics had at times become routine. Face to face, the Dragonknight would look at an enemy and offer him naught but defeat. A fight with honor mayhap was one he'd most wish for, one without, however, was one he was most capable of fighting too. And in the Second Sons, he had men more practiced in such than even the men of Dorne.
A History of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,
Marwyn the Mage.
Prince's Pass 301 AC.
Daario Naharis.
They'd ridden hard to Maidenpool and taken a ship from there to close to Wyl. Normally he'd not have wished to travel through Dorne given the army that marched and yet time was of the essence and so he'd been left with no other choice. The entirety of the Second Sons were with him on the ship and once they reached Dorne, they split into two. He, Lucearon, and Jaedor led one half to where they believed the Dornish army was, and Yraegon and Valarr led the other half to meet up with the Stormlords and offer their expertise.
Watch, count, and see if there were opportunities to cause disruption in the ranks was to be the extent of what his own party would do. Daario had sent a letter to the High Emperor, one that would let him know that Aemon was needed back in Westeros and one that would probably out him as a spy, and yet he cared not if it did. He had faith in Princess Rhaenys and Princess Daenerys, but he'd be a liar if he said that there were no limits to that faith. With Aemon, his faith was boundless. Regardless of the numbers that Dorne, the West, or even had it been the entirety of Westeros that had needed to be faced, he and those with him had always believed they'd be successful. Now for the first time since this campaign had begun, Daario had some doubt that they would be.
Oh, in the end, they'd win. Even should they suffer some losses before Aemon's return, his return would see to that. Yet, until that return, Daario feared somewhat just what those losses may entail. The simple truth was that neither Rhaenys nor Daenerys were true Dragonriders yet and even together they didn't make up for the absence of the Dragonknight, or so he believed. If the battles to come were to come down to men and men alone, they'd be bloody. Worst of all, there was no certainty that the numerical advantage their enemies held over them wouldn't be enough to see them beaten. So he would play his part and try and somewhat even the odds.
"Where the fuck are we?" Jaedor asked as they rode through lands that reminded them most of those they'd left behind two or more years ago.
"A few miles from Vulture's Roost," Lucearon replied.
"And how far is that from this Prince's Pass?"
"About 100 miles or so."
"That fucking far? Could we not have landed somewhere nearer?" Jaedor asked with a sigh.
"Not if we wanted to ride unhindered, no." he japed which at least got a chuckle out of those who rode with him.
They set up camp and enjoyed the cold air that the desert brought them at night. Memories of battles long since past and marches to far-off lands soon filled his and he had no doubt, his men's minds. He doubted that the Dornish were as true a threat as the Dothraki or some of their other foes had been over the years. Especially given what Prince Oberyn said about his nephew and how ill-suited to command Prince Quentyn was.
Had it been Oberyn who led this army as Prince Doran had wished, then they'd be in far more trouble than they already were. After eating his meal and laying down on his bedroll, Daario found himself looking to the stars above and laughing about how the gods and wherever they named their home, must look down upon them and laugh at times. Plans had been made that would no longer come to pass. A mummery that would have seen him travel to these lands and ingratiate himself with the Dornish Prince while working from within to see him brought to his knees. Yet, those plans had gone up in smoke when a dragon had come calling and Aemon had flown east.
"It's almost time to play your favorite game, Daario."
"And what game is that, my prince."
"Betrayer," Aemon said as he looked at him.
"And who am I betraying you to?"
"Prince Doran. Sell yourself most expensively Daario for he'll not believe it otherwise and though I may believe him to be a stupid man, he's truly a snake."
"He's the Empress's brother, my prince. I would expect nothing less."
"Offer him the key to the dragons, Daario. The way to bring them down. Speak to him of scorpions and poisons and aim for the highest price you can get. One he'll not pay, but will allow for a true negotiation."
"Should I not just end him, my prince? Send Lucearon to see him fall? Would that not be the end of things?" he asked curiously.
"Would that was so, Daario. No, lull him into the battle I wish to give him and after it's done, he'll kneel or die."
"When my prince?"
"A moon, two. We have time I believe."
Waking from the dream, he sighed. They'd not had enough time and the more he thought about events in the east, the more he was sure that either the snakes, lions, or both, had done to them what they'd wished to do, only they'd done so first. They'd forced them into the fight they wished to have rather than the one his prince wanted, and without Aemon here, he shuddered.
It took them four days to reach the Dornish Army. The speed of their riding allied to the slowness of Prince Quentyn's march meaning they'd not even reached Nightsong when Daario and his men caught up with them. They had left their rear exposed too and didn't even send out outriders to make sure there was no one following them. Prince Quentyn was no doubt convinced that with their own lands behind them, they were safe from any attack and it proved him as poor a commander as Oberyn had named him.
For three days they shadowed them and on the fourth, he'd come up with a plan. A plan he hoped would do as he wished and so calling his men together, he readied them to sneak into the camp and bring an end to some of those they believed were in command. The prince himself would live to see another day, but some of his Lords and Knights would very much not So after telling Jaedor, Lucearon, and the others what he wished from them, Daario kissed his lady and waited for night to fall.
"We ride and ride hard once we're done. Head for Yraegon and Valarr and the Stormlords. With luck they're better marchers than these poor fools." he said as half his men readied their horses, while he and the other half readied to sneak into the Dornish Camp and cause as much chaos as they could.
R'hllor granted them favor as it was a moonless night. Prince Quentyn's ineptitude helped as there were few pickets and patrols. Again the prince relied on their lands offering him protection when men with swords and spears worked far better in that regard. Five men were all they'd needed to kill to have free roam through the camps. One fell to his lady's kiss across his throat while two to arrows and another two to knives through their skulls. With a nod to Jaedor, Daario moved one way while Lucearon went another.
The sound of the man snoring was loud enough to cover his footsteps and though he had guards, they were at the front of the tent and not the back. Daario cut through the back of the tent with his Arakh and crept inside quietly. He moved silently to the sleeping man and past his armor which bore the sigil of his House. A quick glance at it showed that he'd found his target, the black portcullis over sand naming the sleeping man as a Yronwood. With his lady in hand, he placed his hand over the sleeping man's mouth and then drew the blade across his neck. It was over in the blink of an eye and Daario was out the back of the tent even before the man had breathed his last.
Hurrying back to where his horse and the rest of his forces were, he was soon joined by more and more of his men. Though to his surprise, there seemed to be no sign of Jaedor or Lucearon. That it was only those two who were missing worried him, as each of the others had done their own task and he'd have put his life on both Jaedor and Lucearon completing theirs. The explosion rocked the peacefulness of the night and the camp was lit up with a hundred or more lights as men at arms awoke and panic set in. Daario swore he saw horses ride off and then he heard bowstrings being drawn back as figures moved his way.
"Fire that fucking arrow at me and I'll shove it up your arse," Jaedor said and Daario smirked to see both he and Lucearon were unhurt.
With no time to waste and not willing to run the risk of being caught, they mounted their horses and rode off quickly. By early the next morning it was clear they'd not been followed and so he turned to the two men to ask what had kept them. Daario soon laughed loudly at their reply.
"This one here." Jaedor said as he took a swallow from his water pouch "Not content with killing some fat lord, he spied the large supplies of wine that the Dornish Prince had seen fit to bring with him. Right by the pen where they kept the horses in, it was."
"What can I say, I like to see things burn. That's why I follow a dragon, I thought you all knew that." Lucearon japed.
Daario shook his head. Five and ten men they'd killed, mayhap more with Lucearon's diversion. Horses, supplies, and men, they'd cost the Dornish army much this night. If Valarr and Yraegon were lucky and Stannis Baratheon was a true soldier, they may have just tilted things largely in their favor. Still, his eyes would occasionally look to the sky as he sought sight of the Blood Wyrm and his prince. For until he saw them, he'd not breathe too easily.
Highgarden 301 AC.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
She had found it hard to rest and sleep in a strange bed. Though she knew that in truth it was because she slept alone that was the reason for it. Ghost had been left behind in Harrenhal and Rhaenys felt such a fool for doing so, yet she'd not been comfortable enough to have the white wolf fly with her. Margaery had seen both she and Dany were given all they needed and in terms of material things, she could ask for no more. Highgarden was even better equipped and more luxurious than Harrenhal was and was almost like being in the Grand Palace again.
In terms of food alone, the Tyrells ate even more elaborate meals than her family did on important occasions in Volantis. Rhaenys had wondered if this was their standard fare or if they were going out of their way to impress her. Only to be told that more often than not, this was what a Highgarden feast looked like. Given the sheer amount of Lords, Ladies, and Knights who'd made their way to Highgarden and had joined Lord Gwayne and Ser Garlan upon their return, a feast had been more than needed.
Barristan being from Westeros had known more of the sigils and which Houses they represented than even she had managed to garner in her studies so far. So it was to him she looked when she had questions. Who had come? Who had not? What numbers this lord or that one could bring to bear and what numbers they had brought with them? She'd asked and he'd told her and other than Randyll Tarly and one or two lesser Houses, the Reach had come out in force. Still, something felt off to her and so rather than go to her bed, she'd called a meeting with the Tyrells and Lord Gwayne. A meeting that she was now on her way to attending along with her aunt.
"You seem concerned, Rhae," Dany whispered as they walked.
"I am, I know not why, but I am."
"Surely with these numbers…"
"It's not the numbers, Dany. Nor even us flying into battle that gives me pause, it's…."
What it was, she couldn't explain. A feeling, a tightness in her stomach, and words that Aemon had spoken to her once about when he too would feel that way.
"For as much as they're about tactics and preparation. Knowledge of your enemy and his numbers or even picking where the fight is to be had, your gut plays just as important a part in seeing a battle won."
"How so?"
"If you feel it twisting, tightening, it's trying to tell you something. Something you forgot, overlooked, or something that's off with your plans. It matters not. You listen to it and act upon it."
"And you've felt this much?"
"Many times my love," he said as he kissed her softly.
Eyes closed, she was almost back in their bed with him, and yet she was very much not. Upon reaching Gwayne's Solar, the doors opened for them and she, Dany, Arthur, Barristan, and Torgho Nudho walked inside. Olenna, Margaery, Gwayne, Mace, Willas, Garlan, and Loras Tyrell were already there and waiting for them and she was pleased to see that both women had not been barred from attending what was in essence a war council. Taking her seat, she turned down the offer of wine. Given that she had no true idea what it was that was bothering her, Rhaenys took a moment, closed her eyes, listened to her gut, and then she spoke.
"Lord Tarly." she began, surprising herself that it was there her mind went to "He's not a well-liked man and has few friends if I have the right of it."
"Very few, your grace," Olenna replied, her disdain for the man clear in her expression.
"And those other Houses who've not answered the call, they are among them?" she asked to a shake of Lord Willas' head.
"No, your grace. Lord Rowan and Lord Caswell are both here." Willas said when she prompted him to go further.
"And we can be sure that their loyalty is to us and not to him?" she asked.
"Mathis is a good and true man, your grace as is Lorent." Mace blustered.
"Lady Olenna?" she asked somewhat ignoring what Mace had said.
"Randyll was ever prickly, your grace. You saw that yourself at Bitterbridge. Lord Lorent was repulsed by his words and that they were spoken under his roof. He'd been more than happy to host our meeting and upon seeing the dragons, I doubt he thought any different than any of us."
"And Lord Rowan?" she asked.
"Mathis was one of the loudest voices against us giving you battle, your grace," Gwayne said and Rhaenys nodded.
"So the two closest lords to Lord Tarly, the two he was on the best of terms with both refused to join him, but other Houses did. Why?" She asked, giving in to what her gut was telling her completely now.
There was silence for a moment, not a single word spoken as Lord Gwayne, Margaery, and the Tyrells all tried to find a reason that answered her question. Not a single one of them did and it was actually Torgho Nudho who gave voice to her true concerns.
"Their gods." Torgho Nudho said drawing all eyes to him "As Thoros follows my prince, as the Flames of the Dragon and those who follow R'hllor look to the Dragonknight…."
"The Faithful look to Tarly…" she began and before she'd said any more, Margaery had beaten her to it.
"Grandfather, we must speak to grandfather."
"Margaery?" she asked confused.
"While we may have some idea of who the most pious are, your grace, my grandfather is the Defender of the Faith, the Voice of Oldtown. He'll know better than any who the Faith would reach out to and who may listen."
"He is here?" she asked having not remembered being introduced to Lord Leyton Hightower.
"No, your grace, but our uncles are, Ser Baelor and Ser Garth, they'd know as much as he."
By the time she went to her bed, she'd been told which Houses were here that she may need to keep a closer eye on. They readjusted their plans accordingly and those men would, while not being put directly in the firing line, they'd not be in a position to stab them in the back either. Aemon may have sent them away or even confronted them directly and Rhaenys did consider it. However, if she was wrong, they then risked causing discord where they needed harmony and so she left it for now.
After waking the next morning, they began their march. She and Dany would soon take to the sky to see what plans the Old Lion had in store for them. Thoros and the Flames of the Dragon should arrive to shore up their rear before the battle truly began, but only if Tywin hadn't marched more quickly than they'd estimated. So they needed to establish where exactly he and his army were and what size that army was. Something that was done far better from atop a dragon than by sending outriders out and then awaiting their return.
Inexperienced at battle she may well be, but she doubted anyone had a better teacher than she. Aemon spoke and spoke often since she'd joined him in Westeros. He may have kept her away from the worst of it and she may not have seen much action, but she was no green girl as some may have named her. So with the sun at its zenith, she and Dany along with Arthur and Torgho Nudho climbed upon their dragons' backs and took to the sky. It took them some hours to find them and the sight beneath her sent a shudder down her spine.
"How many?" she asked Arthur, her voice barely carrying over the wind.
"Too many, my queen, yet not all." I say we fly to the west." the knight replied and she did as he bid and soon Meraxes was flying away from the large force beneath her and heading west.
An hour, two, mayhap even three, they flew with no sight nor sign that an army had marched over the ground below them. Just as she was about to turn back and name this a wasted endeavor, she caught sight of them and she both smiled that Arthur had been right and frowned at the fact that the Lannister army was even larger than Olenna had feared. After doing two circles of the forces, Meraxes flying so high that she'd look no more than a bird to them, Rhaenys bid her dragon take her back to her own army.
They landed to see that Dany and Torgho Nudho had already arrived and after speaking briefly to her aunt, she found out that they had seen both the main force and another force to the east. Torgho Nudho, like Arthur before him, had come to the same conclusion as the Sword of the Morning did about the Lannister numbers. Rhaenys kept the information to herself and continued the march atop a horse now instead of a dragon. She had the men with her to figure out what Tywin's plans were and she knew now what it was she had to face. An army split in three with even the main force of it outnumbering her own. Soon a choice would need to be made. For two into three just didn't fit, and she'd have to direct men one way while dragons went another.
"Fired and Blood, Aemon, I'll bring them Fire and Blood."
The Conquest of Westeros L.
Fathers and Sons.
For as much as the tale of the House of the Dragons is about the great beasts that they forged their Empire with, it's about the relationship between fathers and their sons. From issues of succession, an attempt to live up to or go beyond what a father had done. A wish to have your name spoken of as reverently as your father before you had with his or to have your deeds remove the stain of a father's before you or a son's after you This one relationship defines the Empire even more than that of a husband and wife.
From Maegor who never got along with his father, to Bloodraven who because of his father's desire to have a Dragonknight as a son, almost saw the Empire crush itself under civil war. Or Viserys II who wed the wrong son to his daughter and almost saw brother kill brother in the years to come. Aerys whose madness made Rhaegar the man he was. To Rhaegar himself whose relationship with his own son both created another Kingdom and risked the Empire in doing so.
Little was spoken by the Dragonknight about the issues between him and his father. To all who looked upon it from the outside, Rhaegar erred and Aemon suffered because of it, initially at least. It was not until many years after Rhaegar had died that Aemon spoke about his father and the truth of things was finally revealed. A truth that should have been clear enough to any given the events during the Conquest and what followed afterward.
"My father loved my mother more than he did me. So he did as she wished and not as I wanted" the Dragonknight said "Who am I to fault him for that."
A History of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,
Marwyn the Mage.
Volantis 301 AC.
Aemon Targaryen.
He'd not truly slept since he and his father had spoken in the Crypt. The words and what they meant had wormed their way deep inside him and he'd found no respite in dreams or comfort in a bed. Instead, he'd walked the floors of the Grand Palace alone at night with no escort. Aemon would get lost in memories of stories told to him when he was bit a boy. Memories of his mother as he followed after her on unsteady feet or was carried by her in her arms.
He thought back to the lessons that his granduncle had given him and looked upon them all now with much different eyes. All of them now took on different meanings than they once had. Where before he'd believed they'd been lessons to make him a man, now he was more certain they were lessons to make him a particular type of man. As were his mother's tales of the North, the Wall, the lands beyond it, the history of the First Men, the Children of the Forest and so many other tales she'd told him.
As he walked, he thought back to the trips they'd made together and to the ones she'd undertaken even before he'd been born. To how it was her will and her will alone that had seen Aurane raised so close to a prince of the blood. She'd freed Torgho Nudho and had brought him with her when she returned from Astapor and almost every step that Aemon had taken in this world had been one taken by his sworn shield too. His wandering took him to the balconies that they would stand on and look out over the city and his mind was soon full of words she'd spoken to him so very long ago.
"What do you see Aemon?"
"Varantis…" he said, not truly able to speak the word.
"Close your eyes. Now, what do you see?"
"Nothing."
"One day you will, my son. One day you'll see it all."
Aemon hadn't even realized he'd done it. His eyes were closed and he stood where they had all those years ago and just like then, he saw it, or mayhap it was only now he truly saw it. It was blurry at first, like the world when you first awoke from a truly deep sleep. Images that could barely be made out and then he saw it clearly and opened his eyes, wary of looking too deeply at what he believed he'd seen. So much so that he barely blinked for the next few hours and there was nothing or no one that could make him take to his bed.
So it was the sparring yard and then to break his fast that he next went. He was soon joined by his brother and his Goodsister in the latter and he noticed how much happier Aegon and his wife seemed to be. His father and Haegon then arrived and they ate and made small talk. It was only that Talisa asked so many questions about Westeros, Rhaenys, and Dany, or they may have not spoken on anything of any import at all.
"Dany welcomes the adventure and being by Rhaenys' side. But it's a visit for her, nothing more. Our aunt charms each Westerosi she meets and I'd wager that more than one wishes for her hand, yet she's more clever than we at times give her credit for and she knows it cannot be." he said, the last part while looking at his father who nodded his head slightly.
"And Rhaenys?" Talisa asked.
"I believe like me she's happiest when we're together. She is a true queen, Talisa. Far more suited to rule than I and to watch her sway people with mere words is an awe-inspiring sight." he said, smiling a little "She's made friends of those who swore to us too. The Lord and Lady of the Reach are of an age with us and while if it was left to me, I'd no doubt give either little time, It's not left to me." he added fondly.
"And the battles, Aemon, they were as fierce as the ones you've fought here?" Aegon asked worriedly, Aemon shaking his head before answering.
"In truth, we've fought little, brother. The Vale fell to one swoop from Gaelithox. The Blood Wyrm burned their Bloody Gate and showed them that not even stone could protect them. My uncles beat the Hoares before I had a chance to do so and the Stormlands army and our own never got the chance to face each other."
"Because of the Trial by Seven?" his father asked and Aemon looked at him curiously, wondering how he knew of such.
"I wished to send a message to the Faith. So Arthur, Thoros, Daario, Torgho Nudho, Aurane, along with a man from the Vale who turned his cloak on us and me faced seven men from the Stormlands including their king. After winning and taking his life myself, Robert's brother knelt and swore fealty."
"And the North?" his brother asked.
"Came to their senses, eventually. Though they'd suffered losses by then. My uncle Brandon and grandfather Rickard were both ambushed and killed. Given what they did here, I'd now name the Lions as the perpetrators."
He let the words sit for a moment and then Talisa changed the subject a little, still speaking about Rhaenys but more about how she was doing and would a visit be welcomed. Something he said both would and would not.
"In time, most definitely. But I'd not suggest it be soon. The war will truly begin upon my return. Dorne and The West have allied and will need to be brought to heel." he said and heard the gasp as Elia entered the room.
She turned and walked hurriedly away and when his father rose to his feet, Aemon shook his head, and instead it was he who ran after her. He caught up with her before she reached her rooms and though she didn't look happy he'd done so, she didn't deny him when he followed her inside. They talked for some time, Aemon explained what it was he must do and listened when she bid him be merciful. It was clear she held no hopes for Doran, but for her niece, her nephews, Oberyn, and his children. Them she bid him spare and he promised that if he could he would. It was a promise he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep.
The day took him back to the crypts and once again he was joined by his father not long after he'd gone there. This time, Aemon had brought an offering for his mother and had laid the blue rose in her palm before speaking to her. He'd asked her questions that received no answer and then had asked his father the same ones when he'd turned to him. This time getting some and none of them were ones that brought him much comfort.
"Is it just the Faith?" he asked.
"No, though what more than that I know not."
"But I'm to stand as a champion for each and every different Faith am I not?"
"You are."
"Fighting against zealots is a surefire way of getting yourself killed, you know this."
"Yet she believed you'd be more than a match for them. Aemon. That once they saw the strength of your will they'd accept that change had come."
"Tell that to the Good Masters, for my will alone wasn't enough to stop them from cutting men was it," he said annoyed.
"No, though I wager were your path to have kept you in Essos it would be."
"And you truly know not what it is I must do?"
"Other than it's to do with the North and the Lands Beyond the Wall, no."
"The Wildlings?" he asked.
"Did she ever tell you the tale of Bael the Bard?" his father asked and Aemon nodded, knowing the tale well "You are kin with the Wildlings if that tale is true, son. Do you believe it to be so?"
"Mother believed it."
"And so do you, Aemon."
"Could she truly have known how things would play out? That I'd conquer, seek to bring the lands under my control, and unite them under one king?"
"I have no doubt of it, son. She knew." his father said leaving him alone with his mother's statue and with just as many questions as Aemon had when he'd walked into the Crypt.
It was as he was standing there that he felt it. The pain in his head was intense and it brought him to his knees. His eyes closed of their own accord and before he knew it, he was no longer in the Crypt or even in Essos. Instead, it was Harrenhal and his own chambers.
"How many men can the West and Dorne call upon?"
"And the Reach"
"Dany it falls to you and me to come to Highgarden's aid. Arthur, Barristan, see to the provisions for a long flight, on the morrow we head for the Reach and I'd have you both with me when we do so."
"Fire and Blood, Dany. Just as Aemon would bring them. We, you and I, will bring them Fire and Blood."
"Hurry back to me, my love. Hurry back, for I miss you so."
He looked to the sky and saw Meraxes and Nightwing flying south. Arthur, Barristan, Torgho Nudho, Dany, and Rhaenys all now flying to war. Time seemed to pass and then Thoros and the Flames of the Dragon too were riding away from Harrenhal. Aemon believed he heard what seemed to be a wolf's howl in his head and then he was sharing memories from days past and present as he and Ghost truly became one.
Through it all, one phrase stuck in his mind and so after the visions had gone and he stumbled back to his feet After he'd closed his eyes and found himself back in the white wolf again. It was that phrase that had him running from the crypt and calling for the Blood Wyrm.
"Danger to the Pack," he said repeating the words he'd heard in his head. Words that he was sure now had been spoken by a wolf somehow.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: Four conflicts, two dragons, as Rhaenys and Dany make their choices as to where best to deploy Meraxes and Nightwing, Aemon and Aurane fly from East to West.
Stannis and Quentyn meet in the field. Tywin faces the biggest fight of his life, Jaime faces off against a Gallant Knight and Gerion comes face to face with a former king, while Darkfyre and the Blood Wyrm arrive in Westeros and Aemon prays he's not too late.
Dark Prince is up sometime this week for those following my other fics. Followed by Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold, Winter King both Next Week. Along with another as yet unnamed fic's update.
Missed Reviews:
Mooten: Aber da er hier anders aufgewachsen ist, würde er anders denken. Ich bin auch kein Fan von Inzest, aber angesichts des Kontexts macht es Sinn.
Ilas: It would completely derail the concept of the story. I mean he gets exiled because he'll not accept he can't be with Rhaenys and then they add someone, it sort of goes against the logic. I think some people also don't realize just how complicated a two-wife relationship would be. Hell Aegon/Rhaenys/Visenya was an uneven relationship and led to usurpation and a Kinslaying among their children. So for me, I far prefer single monogamous relationships in fics, as they make more sense. But even if I didn't, here it would just derail the concept and the story itself, so, yep, no Dany being added, nor anyone else.
Chapter 23 reviews.
Daryl Dixon: So very glad you enjoyed it.
Change is needed: Really glad you liked it.
Celexys: We're nearing the endgame now.
Sozin's flame: Thanks for saying so, I'm really glad you're liking this.
Keb: Thanks for your kind words. Glad you liked the povs.
Dunk: Thanks, my friend. I find there is always a temptation to just jump to the battle without the logistics of setting the stage for it. It can almost be like the teleporting that the show got so much criticism for at the end. Like the distance between Harrenhal and Highgarden, yes it's more easily managed by a dragon, but it still takes time as it does to march and ready an army. The show may make it seem like banners can be called in the blink of an eye, but practically demands so much more. So I kind of needed yet another chapter to get all the pieces in place, the next one will be a full battle chapter though. Yes, Lyanna planned it all out, before the end of the fic we'll see one more pov of her where she'll lay it out all, what she saw. It may not be needed, but I think it'll add something to things. I had Marge here pretty much lay out the why or Rhaenys certainly coming to their aid, if they don't then they would face so many more issues later, so it's almost a given they will. The Stormlands yes, were easy to rise given its Dorne. Tarly has overplayed his hand, you're very right, we'll see more of that next chapter.
Rhatch: Thanks for saying so.
Guest: There will be much destruction next chapter.
Cudlypanda: So glad you're liking my work, there will be a new Revenge chapter next week, probably early next week, Tuesday/Wednesday.
Pontiac Bandit: For Tywin not to stop and reassess the board would go against his character. In canon, he pretty much does this after taking King's Landing, which is why we get the Red Wedding. For Aemon, he had plans for how to deal with Dorne/West, one of which you see Daario hint at here. Could he have continued on and not gone to the North, maybe, but it's been one of his most pressing needs, and given Ghost's call to him here, maybe some gods were working through him too. There are also the logistics and practical needs of setting up a battle, traveling and covering the ground, etc. But that's all done now and the battle is upon us, more than one.
Silverglow: Yes, Aegon will eventually be king and Jon by his side, for some if not all of it, I've not decided Jon's endgame in it. But both brothers will be aware of each other, know of each other and both will be in Westeros, I can't say too much more than for fear of spoiling it. For me, the only stories where Jon doesn't' go for a crown have to involve Aegon, and so this is my first one doing that. It should be coming up before the new year. I've got a few chapters of it done and just need proofing, but I want to get more in the bag before posting. Oh, and it'll be a Jon/Val story too.
Xan Merrick: Thanks, my friend. We'll see if he makes it in time, but he does have some distance to cover.