Chapter 28: The Lords

(Past: Two weeks before.)

Winterfell

Since Ned told her about Sansa's condition, and especially what was awaiting her in the future, Catelyn, even though she was in pain herself because of her injuries, never left her daughter's room, watching over her and sitting beside her side, always waiting for the best moment to tell her the truth.

Looking towards her daughter, Catelyn remembered these two weeks after the attack, and how she and Ned fought, or rather she did. He only took the blows of her yelling. She shouted at him, blaming him for this situation and the terrible future that awaits her little girl. If only he had proposed a marriage between Prince Orys and Sansa, all this would have been avoided and her daughter would have been Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, with sons and daughters. But now that was denied to her forever. No one will want to marry her anymore because the truth is that in this world, there is no place for barren women, mindful of the fact that they will raise the bastard sons of their husbands. Bastards! A sin in the eyes of the Gods, a mistake, and an abomination.

As she was weaving, making a prayer wheel for the Faith of the Seven, Catelyn heard call her, "Mother." And looking towards her daughter, she saw her wake up.

"Sansa," Catelyn said, smiling, standing up and kissing her forehead, "How are you feeling today, my little girl?"

For the past days, her daughter mostly has rested, sleeping, and nothing else, despite the master saying that she should leave the bed, and take some fresh air.

"Good, I think. Though I still feel pain on my belly, shoulder, and other parts," her daughter answered, her eyes half-clenched, and sleepily. "Mother. My throat is dry..." And Catelyn immediately got up and brought her a glass of water.

"Drink, Sansa," she said, helping her up a bit, and her daughter drank, with difficulty, and then started coughing when it went sideways.

"I hear the Lord and the Ladies of the North have arrived," said Sansa, and Catelyn nodded, saying, "But you don't have to worry about that. They're here to talk to your father."

"But shouldn't we be there with him? Show that the enemy hasn't succeeded in their plans?"

"You're still weak, my little one," Catelyn said, looking down, not yet having the strength to tell her.

"I'm fine, Mother. These are just scratches," Sansa said with a weak smile, trying to show she was strong, even though Catelyn knew she wasn't.

But as she was ready to tell Sansa the truth, Catelyn heard a knock at the room door, and when Catelyn gave permission to enter, she saw it was Lady Alysanne Hightower, or rather Stark. With her two children. Rickard and Jonnel Stark. They were 9 and 6 years old.

"Lady Stark, I'm sorry for what happened to you and your family. I prayed for your recovery, and Lady Sansa's," said the young woman as she approached her as she held her children's hands.

"Thank you, Lady Alysanne. I heard that Moat Cailin was attacked too and that Benjen was wounded. I hope he is well now."

"Yes. He's better now. He went to find Lord Stark the moment we arrived," said the woman, giving her a smile. Ned was surely in the crypts, Catelyn thought. "And you?"

"A little sore, but we are grateful to the New and Old Gods for being still alive," Catelyn said, looking towards Sansa, who nodded. "I see your children are growing fast."

"Yes. So is Rickon," replied Alysanne. "And Lady Sansa is getting more beautiful with every day that passes. Soon the Knights of Westeros will wait in line to ask her favors and for her hand in marriage."

And Catelyn looked down, knowing the cruel truth, and that it was better to tell Sansa as soon as possible so that the wound would heal more quickly with time.

"I'm sure you are very tired, my lady, so I will ask the servants to prepare you the chambers. But first, can you give me a few moments with my daughter alone," said Catelyn, and Alysanne nodded, leaving the room.

The time had come, to tell the truth, and taking a breath, Catelyn said, "Sansa, I have something very important to tell you, and you must be very strong."

"Of course, Mother," Sansa said, looking towards her, eagerly awaiting as Catelyn pondered the best approach to give the revelation.

Ned was in the crypts in front of his sister's statue, thinking about everything that happened since that cursed tournament that bears the name of Harrhenal. A cursed Castell.

He lost his brother because of his stubbornness, and his father because of a Mad King, handing him therefore the staff of command. The Quiet Wolf he was called. Born to follow, not to rule. Then His sister, who chose her life, and Ned did not blame her for it, but she took a lot of lives with her to the grave. And now, his daughter has lost what every woman longed for and all of them deserve it. A child. And a great future as a great lady.

What has he done to be punished in such a way? Why do the Old gods take so much from him and his family?

"She would not want you to sulk at her grave," Ned heard a voice, and turning around, he saw Benjen approaching him, with difficulty.

Ned smiled and hugged his only remaining brother, chuckling, but Benjen instead made a groan of pain.

"Still sore from the wound?" Ned asked seriously, letting his brother and Benjen nodded, as they both started to approach his sister's statue.

"Who did it, Ned? Who sent assassins in the heart of the night to kill our family?"

"Cersei Lannister with the help of the Bolton, who were already here.," Ned replied, feeling the anger growing. "I think Roose Bolton's bastard had a hand in this."

"Do you have proof?"

"Yes. One for Bolton and one for the Queen."

"Good. We'll show them to the lords," Benjen said, looking back at their sister's statue, lit by the candles and the torches.

After some silence, Benjen sighing, asked, "Any news from our nephew?"

"No. He is preparing for a tournament to celebrate his marriage with Daenerys Targaryen. Willas Tyrell has journeyed to Myr seeking vengeance for the destruction of his House, and of course, there is the exile Jorah Mormont," he said almost spitting the last name.

"He will want to return to the North for sure."

"As long as I'm alive, he will not set foot in the North," said Ned in an angry tone, and Benjen nodded.

"They have three new dragons. Two for Daenerys, and one for Queen Rhaella," said Ned, and then took another breath, feeling the cold air of the North, entering his body, and then adding, giggling, "And apparently, the old queen of Westeros is also rejuvenated."

"Rejuvenated?" asked Benjen, with his eyebrow, raised chuckling, and Ned could see a surprised and confused expression on his face.

"Yes, with the magic from Old Valyria. But that's a story for later, little brother. When we will sit in front of a fire with a mug of wine to drink," said Ned chuckling, placing his arm around Benjen's shoulders, before heading for the exit of the crypts.

First the duty as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Then the pleasure of stories near a fire.

When they left the crypts, he was informed by Ser Rodrik that Lord Tully had arrived in Winterfell, and was waiting for him in his office, and so Ned went there at once.

Upon entering he saw Catelyn and her father confabulating with each other, only to stop as soon as they saw him, but Ned nevertheless heard the last thing they said to each other. 'You must convince him," the Lord of Riverrun was saying to his daughter.

"Lord Tully," Ned greeted him with a hug, ignoring the fact that they were for sure plotting something to benefit the Riverland, but nevertheless, he was his wife's father and an ally. So, Ned treated him with respect.

"Lord Stark," Tully said, returning the hug.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lord?" Ned asked, heading towards his table, before filling three goblets of wine, trying to be ignorant of the situation, even though he knew perfectly well why he was here.

"I'm sure you've heard the latest news from the capital," said old Hoster Tully, gladly accepting the goblet filled with Arbore wine. After swallowing a sip of it, Lord Tully continued, "Winds of war brought me here, Ned."

"Yeah, I heard something about that. That Lord Baelish is the one who poisoned Jon Arryn. Helped by your daughter, Lysa Arryn," said Ned, trying to see how much his father in law will defend her, but he did not open his mouth. Which confirmed that, and more importantly, confirmed the fact that Robin Arryn was Baelish's bastard.

Instead, it was his wife who defended her sister who, placing the goblet on the desk, said, "Lies made by the Lannisters. They are afraid of the alliance between Stark, Tully, and Arryn, so they try in every way to break our ties."

This was true, although Ned doubted Lyssa Tully would side with them when his nephew lands in Westeros.

But his thoughts were put aside when Lord Tully asked, "Is it true, Eddard? Is it true that the young boy Targaryen in Essos is your nephew?"

Ned immediately looked towards his wife, who was staring down, with an unpleasant expression. Ned knew her thoughts regarding this matter, especially because he had lied to her for fifteen years. He certainly didn't blame her for this, but still, it felt like a betrayal and especially confirmed his fears. That she would have revealed the secret to Robert or even worse Baelish.

But knowing that Lord Tully was waiting for an answer on it, Ned took a sip of wine and swallowing it said, "Yes. He is. He is my sister Lyanna and Rhaegar's son. But this truth must not leave this room until I talk with my Lords, do you understand?"

"Then there is still hope to stand against the alliance between the Lannister and the Baratheon. We just have to make sure he gets here in time. The North and the Riverlands can provide him with about 150 ships," said Lord Tully, taking another mug of wine, sending it down, and wiping his mustache and white beard, and then adding, "That number can transport about 15,000 of his men and we can provide him with about 30,000 men from each side for his conquest." Stopping for a moment to take a breath, and Ned could see the exhaustion with which Lord Tully spoke. He could see that Tully was a sick man, though he already knew it months ago. Or at least since he and Cat were on good terms.

"Are you well, Father?" asked his wife concerned for her father, taking his hand, but Tully pulled away and stopping her. Turning his attention back to Ned, Tully said, "In return for our support, you will demand that he should marry your daughter, Sansa, who will take her rightful place as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, considering that she would have been a Queen anyway. Then you will also demand that his aunt, Daenerys if I recall correctly the name from the rumours, will marry Edmure."

While Lord Tully was making his ambitious plans, Ned leaning forward asked, "Did you know that my father, Jon Arryn and the Masters of the citadel were plotting to overthrow the Mad King and House Targaryen?" even though Ned knew that he too was involved in the conspiracy that had been forming over the years with the alliances, and indeed that brief moment when he became all white and speechless, confirmed the rumours more.

"Of course I didn't, Eddard. We have always been-"

"He knows, Lord Tully," Ned interrupted him, leaning against the back of his chair, and taking a sip of wine to better prepare himself for what he was about to reveal. He knows for a fact that what he's about to reveal will only make Catelyn angry with him. So, taking a breath, he said, "My nephew, Aenar, or Jon, as he sometimes calls himself, is aware of your involvement in the pre-rebellion conspiracy, and..."

"Enough of these accusations against my father, Ned!" Catelyn said as she rose up from her chair, only to lean on his desk because of the wound that surely still hurt her. Ned immediately got up to help her, but she pushed him away, placing her hand on her side, where she was wounded.

"I know nothing about the accusations you're making against me, Eddard, but you have a duty to help your allies. Tywin Lannister will invade us soon and so will do Robert."

"I have a war on my doorstep too, Lord Tully. But I ask you to attend the meeting with the lords that I will soon be attending," said Ned, leaving the room without adding anything else. He has to gather the Lords and start the meeting as soon as possible. The times were against them.

Robb was sitting at the Lord's table with Rickon, Sansa, their Mother, and Master Luwin, while their father, Lord Eddard Stark, rose up and stepped forward to address the Lords.

While they waited for the Lord of Winterfell to speak, Robb looked for a moment at Sansa and saw his sister's sad and broken expression. Which meant only one thing. His mother told her the truth about her condition after the attack.

Clearing his throat, his father started, "My lords and ladies, I welcome you to Winterfell, and thank you for coming here with such haste. I know you are all preparing for the long winter that is coming, so I will get to the point of this meeting."

Stopping for a moment and pondering his words, taking a breath, Ned continued, "As you may have heard when you arrived, Winterfell has been attacked by assassins. Many men and women died that night, and some of my House was irreparably damaged, and I have no desire to go into detail. My brother and his family too were attacked at Moat Caillin.

"Who did it, Lord Stark? Who sent the assassins to kill your family?" asked Maege Mormont of Bear Island, accompanied by two of her daughters. Dacey and Alysane.

"The Lannisters and the crown," said Ned sighing, not yet knowing whether to expose Roose Bolton now or when the prisoner Bolton will be brought here.

"With all respect, My Lord, but why would Tywin Lannister or the King do such a thing against one of the most important and respected Lords of the Seven Kingdoms?" Bolton asked as if he had not been part of the plot.

"Actually, It was Queen Cersei Lannister," said Ned, nodding to Ser Rodrick, to bring the prisoners.

"Do you have proof of that, Lord Stark?" Bolton asked.

"Yes, Lord Bolton, and now I will present it to you."

After a brief moment, Ned saw one of the prisoners brought in, and then Rodrik whispered in his ear, "The Bolton prisoner is dead, Lord Stark."

"Damn it!" muttered Ned. Without the witnesses of the prisoner Bolton will get away with it again, it seems.

The Lannister prisoner was brought before the Lords and Ned could see him trembling like a leaf.

"Who sent you?" in an angry way.

"Qu-Queen Ce-Cersei," said the man stammering.

"Damn you!" shouted Umber, punched the prisoner in the face and spat at him. "This is an act of war!" said the Great Lord, turning to the others. "You have my full support in this Ned. When you will call the banners to march south, my men will be ready to follow you."

And along with Umber, so did all the other Lords and even Bolton, who most certainly did it to keep his face, and maybe plot another way to take power.

"Thank you, Lord Umber. But there is one more thing I must inform you about," said Ned, and all the lords quieted down.

So, the moment of truth had come. This revelation that might cause him to lose the support of the North.

Robb watched the Lords for a moment, as silence descended on the hall, and saw how attentive they were at his father and eagerly awaiting what his father had to announce, and he looked towards the Lord of Winterfell, his father, who had a thoughtful expression.

"I think that by now there are no turns of words regarding the truth that I'm going to revel you, and I am sure that by now you have already heard the latest news from Essos," said his father, looking down, but with a clear voice, although Robb could see perfectly well the difficulty he was having in revealing that, because for sure was bringing old memories.

"Are you referring to the tales regarding, dragons and secret Targaryens?" asked GreatJon, with his high and loud voice.

"Yes. Lord Umber. And the tales are true," said her father looking at the great Lord of Last Hearth.

"So the rumors that he is the secret son of Lady Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar are true?" asked Lord Bolton seriously and with his cold and scheming eyes, intervening.

Taking a breath and turning to Bolton, he said, "Yes Lord Bolton. He is my son. He was born in the year 283 A. C., in the Tower of Joy, in Dorne. And he was given the name of Aenar of House Targaryen, the first of his name."

"That's a targaryen name. What does he look like?" asked Umber, and his father turned towards him.

"Taking a breath Robb rose up, and said, "He has the Stark look. Dark curly hairs and dark grey eyes, that looks almost black or indigo."

"Apparently the Stark seed is really strong," said Umber bursting out laughing and the Lords with him.

His father smiled too, but then he became serious and said, "My sister, Lady Lyanna, was never kidnapped, never raped, unlike what we were told. They loved each other and married in secret in Harrhenal before the Old and New Gods. We were deceived and dragged into a war by those who call themselves the wises men of these lands." And Robb knew perfectly to who his father was referring. To the Master of the citadel.

"So, what you're telling us is that our fathers, our children, our husbands died because of a lie?" intervened a Lady, who Robb couldn't recognize, who stood up and was very angry.

"Lady Dustin, the North rebelled not because Rhaegar took my sister, but because the Mad King killed my father and my brother."

"And do you want that bloody family to sit on the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms again?" Umber asked loudly, almost in anger. The laughter and jokes that had been made before had disappeared, forgotten, clearing the path for hate and anger towards the Targaryens.

"Tell me of a family from the Seven Kingdoms that has never been bloodthirsty," his father said, looking at Umber in defiance, but the GreatJon did not answer.

"As I was saying, he is the son of my sister Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar. And he is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

"Is it true that he has a dragon?" asked another Lord, this one was young, but the old man next to him, shushed him.

"Yes. He has four dragons in his retinue. And an army of more than a hundred men," said his father, making everyone gasping, and whisper between themselves, "Precisely, the Golden Company, the Dothraki and another sellsword Company. The Golden Spears." And that's what filled his mind with the face of the woman to whom his heart belongs. Alyssa Snow. His secret cousin.

"It's seems the Conqueror has reborn," said Umber, in a joking way, even though there was nothing to joke about. His cousin really was the conqueror reborn and with an army ten times bigger than the one that Aegon used in the field of fire.

Before his father could continue, however, Bolton intervened again, saying, "In addition to the rumours about the origins of the young Targaryen and his dragon, there are also rumours about him bedding his aunt and his grandmother. Are they too true?"

His father glanced at him, for a moment for sure, not knowing what to say on the regard, and Robb, knew how he was feeling regarding the mater.

But before he could replay, it was his uncle, Benjen who standing up, said, "Even if the rumours about that were true, it wouldn't be of our concern. Who cares who my nephew is bedding."

"O but it's important, Lord Benjen. An aunt can be accepted, but grandmother? In all the history of the Houses of Westeros, this has never been heard before. That is an abomination. A sin before the gods. New and Old."

"But the Targaryens answer to neither gods nor men, isn't it, Lord Bolton?" Robb intervened, very tired of his plots. "But if that is what you think, perhaps when my cousin Aenar lands in Westeros with his dragons and his armies you can say that to his face, 'Give up the women who share his bed. I'm sure he will gladly agree with that."

Bolton didn't answer, no doubt offended by that, but Robb didn't care. And his uncle stood up and said, "As I was saying before Lord Bolton interrupted me, what matters most to us are his armies and his dragons that we will need to defeat the White Walkers."

"White Walkers are only stories for children, Lord Benjen," said his grandfather the Lord of the Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident, standing up. "But the danger in the South isn't. The king will soon call his banners and march on the Riverlands and then Valley."

"And why would we be interested in your Southern wars, Lord Tully?" asked Lord Umber, standing up too. "Fuck the South and their Iron Chair. Why shouldn't we rule ourselves like before the conquest of Aegon the Dragon?" and apparently the lords agreed with him, which was not a good thing, because they will need his cousin's dragons to defend the North. And for that they will need to bend the knee.

"My lords!" his father called them down, raising his voice. "In normal times I would agree with you, but these are not normal times. Winter is coming and with it the dangers of the White Walkers. But that doesn't mean I intend to march south, not yet at least. Not while my nephew is still in Essos."

"With all due respect Lord Stark, but would you go south for your nephew, but not for my father, who has been your ally since the days of the rebellion? An alliance made before the Seven Gods," said his mother as she struggled to get up, and Robb could feel anger, frustration, and disappointment in her voice. " Not going in the aid of a true and precious ally like my father is a sin and could damn our name in perpetuity."

"With all respect Lady Stark, the people of the North do not worship the New Gods, but the Old Gods," said Karstark, looking to his mother, whose answer apparently angered Lord Manderly, who standing up said, "Some of us worship them, Lord Karstark."

"My Lords!" his father called them to calm down, with an authoritarian tone of voice. "If we march south, the North will fall. Surely you have received ravens from Maester Aemon asking for help as an army strong of 100,000 Wildings is marching to Castle Black along with about two hundred giants and 50 mammoths marching on East Watch by the Sea."

"If my brother Jeor Mormont say that they are coming then we need to go and help the Night's Watch," said Mage Mormont, turning toward the Lords of the north, who agreed. Then they all turned towards his father waiting for his words.

Taking a breath, he said, "Yes. That's exactly what I intend to do. And beyond that I intend to ask my nephew to fly to the wall with his dragon, to give us the upper hand and make the Wildings kneel to him."

"I don't think I quite understand. Isn't it enough to destroy their army?" asked Umber confused.

"No, Lord Umber. I want to form an alliance with them for the wars to come and-"

"Alliance!?" shouted Umber standing up again. "I'll see this world burn to the ground before I raise a cup with those damned Wildings!" and chaos broke out among the lords who opposed it.

"I understand your resentment about them, but if we send them back beyond the Wall, they will become meat for the army of the dead."

"Army of the dead?" Bolton asked.

"My cousin in Old Valyria saw an army of undead marching on the Seven Kingdoms. An enemy of a past heritage. The enemy of the long night. The army of the White Walkers," said Robb.

"So, when do you intend to march?" Manderly asked.

"As soon as your men are ready," said his father.

"House Mormont is ready to march at any time," said Maege.

"And so are the men of Last Heart," said Umber.

"Lord Stark, what about the Riverlands? Will you leave your allies alone at the lion's jaws and the charge of the crowned stag?" his grandfather asked, rising again, and turning to the northern lords. "Lords of the North. 16 years ago, you rebelled against a king who killed your liege lord and his heir. And my House sided with you in the time of need," stopping to take a breath. "And now in a time of need, it is my House that asks for your help."

The lords began to look at each other, but his mother was the one to speak, "Lord Stark. You said that you will side with your nephew, Aenar, when he will wage war against King Robert, because he is part of your family. Because he is a son of the North. But I'm part of your family too. And the Lord of the Riverlands is my father, which makes him family of you."

"Lady Stark is right, my lords," said Bolton, and his father looked down no doubt pondering the best words to say.

Robb himself would not know what to say to them, though his impulsive side would spur him to leave the Riverlands to their fate and turn his gaze to the true enemy beyond the Wall.

His father did not answer for a long time and returned to the lord's chair. Sitting and sighing he said, "Yes. You are my family through my wife. But this has nothing to do with that, but with the fate of two kingdoms. If I march south with my army, the North will fall, and if I don't, the Riverlands will fall."

Passing a hand over his face, he said, " For the respect I have for you, Lord Tully, and the love I feel for my wife, I regretfully refuse your call of help. You will have an escort to accompany you to the Trident, but no troops to reinforce you."

Robb saw his grandfather's unpleasant face and his mother's disappointed face as she left the room furiously, while his grandfather looking towards his father said, "And I will remember this day as the day when the honourable Eddard Stark came less to his honour and broke an alliance with one of the greatest kingdoms." He left the hall, too, and silence fell on it. It was in that brief moment, that Robb glimpsed a sneer on Bolton's lips before taking a sip from his goblet.

'Damned traitor and plotter,' he thought. But his end is near.

Gulltown

Tyrion and the king were in one of the cabins below deck of the king's ship, Robert's Hammer, with the Kingsguard Meryn Trant and Mandon More; the squires Lancel and Tyrek Lannister; and some whore brought aboard the ship, drinking and giggling while they were telling stories of war and adventures.

Laughing, the king asked, as he drank from his goblet, "You, imp, have a reputation for fucking a lot of whores. Have you already fucked a girl from the Riverlands?"

Tyrion taking, a sip from his goblet, said, "I don't know, Your Grace. Whores don't usually tell me where they come from when they're fucked."

"Yes. In our times, you wouldn't have been a man until you hadn't fucked one from each kingdom and the Riverlands.

And your father? Must really feel as shit knowing that his family is like that, eh?" the king laughed, almost certainly blurred by the wine. "One a whoremonger, the other an oath breaker, and the daughter a whore."

And what a whore, Tyrion would like to add. She's been fucking her twin under his own nose for years, giving birth to her bastards, and now she's fucking his squire. Poor fool, thought Tyrion, but that's what you get when you provoke the lions.

"Well, imp? What do you say?"

Tyrion was ready to answer, but one of the Kingsguard entered the room, "Your Grace, we're approaching the harbour of Gulltown."

"Let's go, you bastards, move your asses and get ready," said the king as he stood up, and though he had drunk a dozen of mugs of wine, he stood, while Tyrion barely moved. He was sure that he was gonna pour somewhere.

"Gulltown Your Grace?" Tyrion asked, concerned about it, knowing the history of that harbour city.

"Yes. The only harbour in the Vale. From there we will leave for Runestone to meet Royce," replied the king, sending down another mug of wine in one sip, and then burp.

"And if the Lord of Gulltown should attack us. We know he resents you for the death of his father."

"By the gods, what a glorious day it was!" Robert almost roared. "I was the first one to take the walls and slammed my hammer in the chest of Marq Fucking Grafton. Only 20 years old, imp, and I was bloody strong. But enough of these stories and let's get off this bloody ship."

And Tyrion started swearing at everyone in his head, following the king.

Once they entered the harbour and got down, they were greeted by Lord Grafton and his men. And after bowing to the king, he greeted them. "Welcome to Gulltown, Your Grace. Gulltown is yours." And Tyrion could see that the Lord still had a grudge against the King.

"Thank you, Lord Grafton. But I won't stay. I just want some horses for me and my retinue to ride to Runestone."

"Of course, Your Grace. I will give you even more men to your escort from the City Watch."

"No. No need. My 50 is enough."

The Lord nodded and kept walking, in silence.

After a while Tyrion said, "I suppose you have heard about the latest news from the Capital, regarding Lord Baelish and his affair with Lady Lysa Arryn."

"Yes. I have. And I have also heard rumours about Lord Tully's escape after killing the King's men," replied the Lord with his eyes always looking forward and walking with his arms behind his back.

"How many men can you provide should I march on the Eyrie?" asked the King stopping for a moment, and Tyrion would burst out laughing at that. They were lucky that they were still alive, considering Gulltown remained loyal to the Targaryens.

"Three thousand. Maybe more."

"Good," said the king resuming his walk.

When they reached the stables, and once their horses were ready, they left the city, heading for Runestone.

After a few hours of riding, they stopped for the king to piss after all the jugs of wine he had drunk during the journey, it was strange that he wouldn't piss near a tree. Even though they were in an open field and in a very dangerous place.

But just as the King was returning, they were attacked by the Mountain clans, and he saw the mighty Robert Baratheon draw his sword, and with one blow he almost cut one of the enemies in half, and then charge at the others like a bull in rage, and knocking them down.

In the meantime, Tyrion, who hid himself near the horses, was watching the fight, and then suddenly his attention was drawn by a screaming man who was charging at him with his sword drawn.

He, not having a weapon, immediately lowered himself to pick up one of the shields on the ground, thus avoiding the blow of the enemy, and then started to hit him in the legs and in the head, making the enemy fall to the ground, and kill him with the tip of his shield.

"Die you damned!" roared the king, and Tyrion saw a big headless man fall to the ground. Well, if there was any doubt as to whether the Demon of the Trident could still fight, it was now gone.

As he approached him, the King, laughing, said, "Your first kill, imp?"

And Tyrion nodded.

"Is anyone still alive?" Tyrion asked, looking around hoping they aren't.

"No. Running like cowards with their tails between their legs, they did," said the king, laughing.

"Damn Wildings!" cursed Mandon More, taking off his helmet and spitting down. It was normal that he thought that considering More was from the Vale of Arryn.

"Let's get moving before more of these bastards attack us," said the king as he headed for the horse, and the men followed him after setting fire to the dead and helping the wounded.

Runestone

By the time they reached Runestone, the seat of House Royce, the sun had already set.

The Lord and the household were all gathered in the courtyard, awaiting their arrival, and when the King came down, they all knelt.

As Tyrion started to look at this ancient castle of the first men, his attention was drawn away when Royce asked what a Lannister was doing in the Valley.

It seems they were still angry that Jaime was named Warden of the East for a short time after Jon Arryn's death.

"Well, imp? Answer Lord Royce,"

"Well, I would say that I am here because of my great mind and my skills for speech," replied Tyrion jokingly, trying not to offend neither the king nor the lord, since his family has already drawn far too much hatred on their name. There is no need to raise more hatred.

The king laughed and then turned to Bronze Yohn, "Let's go inside, Royce. We have more important things to discuss and I have some wounded men."

"As you asked, I have gathered the most important lords of the Vale, and also summoned Harrold Hardyng," said Royce, as he led them into the Keep.

"Good," said the king, entering the Great Hall.

He was greeted warmly by those few lords and knights who were present, but as soon as Tyrion stepped inside, the tension arose, and a woman of old age asked the same thing that Royce asked when they arrived.

"Forget the damn imp. We have more important things to discuss," said the King, and any protest that was about to arise disappeared. And Tyrion was grateful for that. He was sure that the moment he set foot on the Valley floor, this would happen.

They offered them the guest's rights, and then cups of wine.

After he took a mug of wine, the king said, "Let's get straight to the point, my lords. Lysa Arryn murdered Jon Arryn, with the help of Petyr Baelish. And I now intend to depose her and execute her."

"Is there any evidence against her in this matter, Your Grace?" the old woman asked.

"Yes, Lady Waynwood. My son, Prince Orys, along with Tyrion Lannister and Lord Varys found them," replied the King, and all present looked towards Tyrion. Well, now it's going to be interesting.

"Why would he do that?" asked Lady Waynwood.

Clearing his throat, Tyrion stepped forward and said, "Lady Arryn has always hated Lord Arryn, but she has loved Lord Baelish since she was a child, therefore Lord Arryn was the only thing between her and the marriage with Lord Baelish. And we also found out that Lord Baelish was the father of Lady Arryn's first child. Before her marriage to Lord Arryn, of course."

And that shocked everyone, including the king, and now he knew that that was something he probably shouldn't have revealed.

Ignoring his revelation, Lady Waynwood asked, "But I don't understand why Baelish would do such a thing."

"The Iron Throne, Lady Waynwood."

"How do you know?" Royce asked.

"He confessed it after he lost the Trial by Combat," Tyrion answered sipping from his goblet. "He wanted to use the Vale, the Riverlands, and all those who hate his grace against the crown. He wanted to unleash the chaos. Through it, he wanted to reach the throne."

"Madness," Royce said. "Is he still alive?"

"Yes. He's chained in the black cells."

"So, Ser Harrold Hardyng will become the new Lord of the Vale?" asked Royce.

But the king stepped forward, tired of all this babbling, "So lord of the valley. Are you with me in this war?"

Royce looked to the lords for a moment and when he got their consent, he said, "We are. But Lysa Arryn will surely ask for her father's support."

"He is a traitor and will soon have the fate he deserves," replied the king, and Tyrion could see the great effort he made to soothe the anger that was boiling.

"I think His Grace is tired from the journey. And tomorrow we will give a feast in your honour, like in the old days."

The king laughed as they left the hall with the lords, and Tyrion, after finishing his cup of wine, left the hall too. He will need a good whore, to release the tension and frustration that he been built during this journey.

Sunspear

The enemy was at the gates and Doran was unable to save his family, and what was worse is that the hidden passages leading out of the city were sealed by someone who was their enemy.

"We have nearly 4,000 men who can fight, stationed on the walls of Sunspear on the different rings of the city, and at the various entrances," Oberyn said, showing on the map, before taking another sip of Dornish wine from his chalice. "The enemy is outnumbering us, but still does not attack, which can only mean two things. Either they are waiting for reinforcements from one of our lords, Yronwood for example. Or they are waiting for our gates to be opened from inside by someone here."

"Search the whole city and arrest anyone who looks suspicious," Doran said. This was definitely the Lannisters' hand. They want to destroy them and put Yronwood as ruler of Dorne, even though there were no banners in their camp.

In that instant, Doran saw a soldier running towards Oberyn and whispering something in his ear, and Doran saw him rubbing his chin and looking towards the map.

"What is it?"

Taking another sip from his goblet, Oberyn said, "They raised the three headed dragon banners."

"Targaryen? Why?"

"A trick for sure. Tywin Lannister must have found that we were plotting with Viserys, and now he uses that as an excuse to destroy us. Anyway, we have also good news," his brother said, stopping to take another sip from his goblet. "Darkstar had landed at Lemonwood with three thousand men and-"

"Why only three thousand? House Dayne has more men than that."

"Dear brother, maybe you forget that it needs time to gather a full strength. I'm sure these are those that were already ready."

"So, he should be here in a day. But-" Doran was stopped when he felt the Great Hall shaking followed by a great thunder, and Oberyn together with the men present ran up to the balcony.

In that instant Doran saw Arianne and Trystane running into the room, frightened by what had happened, followed by Daemon Sand.

"Father, what happened?" she asked, sitting on the couch.

In the meantime, Oberyn went straight back into the hall but did not stop to talk to him instead he rushed out, after having tied his sword to his hips.

But when he saw Areo Hotha come back, Doran asked, "What happened?"

"The city is on fire, my Prince. The walls have blown up, and people are running in panic to save themselves. We have to find a way to escape."

"And abandon the city? Never!" snapped Doran not wanting to hear these nonsenses.

"Father-"

"You must leave it, though, and then-" he stopped when he saw another soldier running in, and breathlessly said, "They've entered the city. Thousands of dead and they are sacking it."

"Areo. Find my brother and get my children out of town safely," said Doran to the captain of the household guard at Sunspear.

Hesitantly, the Norvoshi warrior left the Hall, heading to find Oberyn, and Doran turning to his children said, "Go and get ready quickly. You need to leave the city before they reached the Keep and go to Essos." And Arianne started crying, ad after giving him a hug, she left, followed by Daemon Sand and Trystane.

"What's happened!" shouted Oberyn, seeing the chaos, and saw one of his Sand Snakes running towards him.

"The city is on fire, Father. The enemy has passed all three walls, in which breaches have been made," said Obara. "Our soldiers are dead, and the people are running wild through the streets, even though the enemy is already inside and slaughtering them."

"Damn! What the hell did happen? How did the walls collapse?" Oberyn asked, heading towards a spot where he could get a better look at it.

"I don't know. Suddenly, after we sent the soldier to inform you that they raised the flag and deployed the men, a green fire rose up and swallowed our men." Obara said, following him. "Then other parts of the city caught fire inexplicably."

"Damn them. Must be that weapon called Wildfire. How many men do we have left?"

"Not enough to resist. These are not regular soldiers, Father. They are mercenaries and you know perfectly well how they fight."

Yes, he knew exactly how the mercenaries fought, having served in their companies. And they certainly knew every part of the city. The enemy must be prepared for it or else it wouldn't take so long to charge against the Old Palace.

"Darkstar is still miles away, Father. He won't get here in time. And even if he does, I doubt he'll have the numbers to take back the city."

"We won't wait, Dayne. The city is lost, and we have to flee," replied Oberyn. "We must break through and let the family escape, and sail with a small ship that is hidden to Essos."

"I didn't think you were a coward, father," Obara said almost angry, and although Oberyn would like to stay and fight this was not the time.

So, he turned to his daughter and said, "Live today and fight tomorrow. We would have a chance to take back the city in the future. But only if we stay alive. Now go and find your sisters and Ellaria."

Obara nodded hesitantly, and ran away, while Oberyn ran towards his men who were fighting for their lives, defending the breach that led to the palace.

Apparently, the trick made by that Cunt of Tywin Lannister was working even though he had doubts about it.

Doubts especially about those who were meant to make the breaches in the walls and set the city on fire, knowing Oberyn Martell, once a member of the Second Sons, Mero was sure that he would have found the locations of their secret weapon.

And now as they continued to advance toward the palace, they also sacked the city by killing the men and children they met and raping the women, for there were few enemies left after they were burned by the Green Fire.

He did not much like receiving orders from a Westerosi man like the lion who was leading them. Ser Daven Lannister, that was his name, but it was better than taking orders from that fucking Tattered Prince, who was a former member of his company, and who wanted to take command of this war.

And besides this bloody Prince, there was Bloody Beard pressing for command, being in a rivalry with the Prince of Pentos. But the Lannister managed to set him straight. He was still surprised the Lannister was here considering that when he was hired, no one had mentioned a Lannister commanding him.

However, part of the agreement with the Lannister and the Crown, and therefore receiving the second part of the payment, was that this knight survives the war, so they needed to keep him alive and away from some danger, despite the man wanting to throw himself into the fray.

"Any news of Dorne's armies?" asked the Lannister.

"Apart from the landing of what you call Dayne, no," replied Mero, and he saw the Tattered Prince approaching as well, who said, "We have reached the palace, but the doors are apparently sealed. We need the ram."

"Then go and get it," said Lannister, walking away as the Tattered Prince headed the other way, with an unpleased look.

When all was lost, Oberyn immediately returned to the Great Hall and saw that his brother was not inside, but on the balcony, and that is where he headed.

"You can say it," said Doran suddenly. "Say I underestimated the Lannisters. That I underestimated the love that the Houses of Dorne had for the Martells."

"What's done is done, brother. Now we have to go. Leave the city. We'll get it back at a later time, with outside help," Oberyn said.

"Then go," said Doran as he looked back at the burning city, and he heard men shooting through the palace. That means they were inside. "You have to take Arianne and my children to safety. To Myr. And forge an alliance with the Targaryens at any cost. Use whatever blackmail you want, but Arianne must marry the Targaryen boy, and Quentyn must marry Daenerys. And above all, we have to put Martell's blood on the throne as it should always have been. It's our right. It's our destiny."

"What about Trystane?"

"Send Ellaria and two of your Sand Snakes north with him. Proceed with the plan."

"Despite our disagreements I've always loved you, brother," Oberyn said, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "And I you. Make the House whose name you bear proud and make sure that pure Martell blood sits on the Iron Throne and rules the seven kingdoms." Oberyn nodded and ran away, while Doran looked back to his city. Sunspear. Pride of House Martell founded by the great Queen Nymeria of the Rhoynar and Mors Martell.

When news reached them that the enemy was in the palace, Arianne and her brothers immediately left their rooms to search for their uncle.

"Don't worry, Princess. I will protect you from the enemy," said her sworn shield, Ser Daemon Sand, and Ariane gave him a soft smile, but then she saw her uncle Oberyn running towards them.

"They are inside the palace," he said, and she saw him dirty of blood, while she was worried about her father, so she asked, "Where is my father?"

"He'll stay here, but we have to go. Leave the city and take the small ship that is hidden for Essos."

"But my father?"

"There's no time," Oberyn yelled, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her towards the secret tunnels, that for sure must have been filled of men.

However, on their way, they saw that the way to escape was blocked by armed men, who fortunately were attacked by the Sand Snakes and some soldiers who survived the destruction of the walls and the burning city, and were followed by Ellaria, Oberyn's Paramour.

"Over here! There are still some Dornish bastards!" they heard someone screaming and laughing, and then they saw many men coming towards them.

"Fuck!" exclaimed her uncle, and they all ran in the direction of the tunnel that led out of the city, but before they reached it some of them were wounded and killed by the arrows, and the unsheathed swords that blocked their way. Again.

"Princess!" Arianne heard shouting and then felt her body pressed against the wall. Turning her head for a moment she saw Daemon's painful face and blood spurting from his mouth before he fell to the ground.

"No!" she screamed, but she was grasped by one of the snakes, and pulled, as she saw her uncle fighting in the distance with a huge man with a great bush of a beard with fiery red whiskers and long braids.

"I have always wanted to fight with the Red Viper," said Bloodbeard, attacking him with his sword, as Oberyn retreated, parrying with his spear, saying, "I never thought a beast like you would come to Westeros."

And he felt a cut in his arm under the armour, before a blow broke his spear, and then a hit to the jaw that made him fall to the ground. Bloodbeard was a fearsome man and Oberyn know that he was very skilled and damn strong.

"Aye. But I love more the gold, glory, blood, than a cursed land like Essos," said Bloodbeard, and raising his hands as he backs away a bit, added, "and here there are plenty of all. Your women scream a lot when they are taken by true men. And soon your sweet niece will taste my big sword. Just like your whore sister taste mountain's cocks as she died screaming like a slut." And that made Oberyn enrage, and grabbing a sword from the ground, attacked Bloodbeard. With sword and half his poisoned spear, hoping to break his guard. But Oberyn felt how his body was weakening and the only answer to that was one. Poison.

"Uncle!" he heard his nice Arianne scream, and he glanced for a moment, yelling, "Run!"

And then he felt a kick that made him fall to the ground. "You are good, Prince of Dorne, but you quickly get distracted." And he got disarmed, and the sword pierced his chest. "Now your head is mine." Bloodbeard said, getting into position to strike, and Obery, knowing this was his end, with closed eyes, whispered to himself, "I will join you soon, my beloved Elia!"

With great haste and difficulty, they finally got out of the city at the beach of the cave and Arianne saw a boat waiting for them. On the other hand, a lot of ships were waiting near the shores and more boats were rowing towards Sunspear. But behind them, however, the enemies were chasing them. She could hear their yells.

Only she, her two brothers, Ellaria, and three of the snakes were left. At least the ones who were present in Dorne. Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene.

"We must take that ship and set sail for one of the Free Cities of Essos before we go to Myr."

"But wouldn't it be better to head for Starfall. The Dayne are loyal to us, and..."

"No, Arianne. The enemy wants us dead. The only way to get Dorne back is to forge alliances. Alliances with the Targaryens from Myr. But before that, we have to let things cool down. So, we're going to one of the other great cities of Essos."

"But Oberyn-"

"Enough. We have no time to argue," Ellaria said, heading toward the bots, followed by the Sand Snakes.

Arianne looked one last time towards the enemy ships, before being dragged by her brother Trystane, towards the boat.

This is going to be a very difficult escape, she thought, getting on the boat and hugging Trystane to herself.

Daven entered the Great Hall of the Old Palace, after crossing the hallways and streets of Sunspear full of blood and saw that the only one inside was an old man in a wheelchair. He must be old Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, who though was not so old.

"I knew Tywin Lannister would make his move sooner or later. But I certainly never thought he'd use tricks and subterfuge to do it," said the prince looking towards him. "Or that he would use mercenary companies and not his armies."

"Why waste the lives of his men when he can afford the Mercenary companies."

"And I suppose green fire is your work," said the prince.

"Indeed. Wildfire," replied Daven as he approached, never letting go of the hand from the sword. One never knows when there is a man hiding in the shadows.

"I suppose this is my end," said the Prince, almost without emotion.

"Yes, it is. And so is your house. My men are slaughtering what's left of your dynasty right now," said Daven, hoping that was true.

"Lannister!" Daven heard him calling, thus interrupting his conversation with Prince Doran, and turning around he saw that it was Mero the Commander of the Second Sons and the Tattered Prince. "They are here."

"Good. You know what to do," said Davon, and Mero laughing drew his sword and beheaded the old Prince of Dorne, only to leave the room. It was time to leave the city, and of course let the companies be slaughtered by the enemy, that had been approaching.

Dawn of the next day...

Gerald and the men marched at a fast pace with the burning sun on them, after they received news that Sunspear was on fire, and at the dawn of the second day, they reached the capital, even though they knew it was too late.

"It's a lost cause to take back the city, Ser Gerald. The enemy must have already slaughtered the Martell Family and also the people inside," said Ser Andrey, looking toward the city, and Ser Gerald also knew that there was that possibility he had to attack the enemy. At least to avenge Arianne.

"Ser Andrey, to you the left flank. Samwell, the right flank. Ulrick the Centre. I'll lead the charge of the Cavalry once you lure the enemy outside the city," said Gerold, and they nodded, and went to take the position.

However, just as he was ready to give the order to advance toward the city, he heard horns blowing and looking towards the North, he saw an army of knights approaching. And it was a very large army. The houses of Dorne had come to the rescue at last. Or maybe to destroy them.

"Men! Take up your positions to the north," shouted Gerold, riding his horse in front of the army, which had set up a defensive position on two sides. The main one facing the incoming army, and the other, the rearguard lines facing the city.

"The Houses of the Dornish Marches?" asked Ser Andrey, and Gerald nodded, though he was suspicious of it.

Once outside the palace, the Tattered Prince saw his rival, Bloodbeard, approaching with the head of the Red Viper in his hand, while The Titan's Bastard was holding the head of the Prince of Dorne.

"Looks like you're without trophies, Rags," Bloodbeard laughed, and the bastard laughed with him.

"Where's Lannister?" asked the Tattered Prince, not seeing him there with them, and indeed they looked at each other.

"Apparently the bloody Lannister has run away," said Mero, spitting down, and the enemy was at the gates. "What are we going to do?"

"Show the Westeros what happens when a contract is broken," Rags said. And turning to Bloodbeard he continued, "We have always been enemies, and we will continue to be enemies in the future. But perhaps now, today, we can put aside our hatred and destroy the army that has come. Then we'll pillage the city to the core and then go on different roads."

Bloodbeard thought for a moment and then looked towards the Commander of the Second Sons.

"Yes, Rags. Let's put our swords up through these Dornish' asses and fill our bags with gold," said Mero, heading toward some of his men, ready to set the trap.

When the nightfall comes, the sand of Dorne will be wet with Dornish Blood," said Bloodbeard, laughing, heading for his own men.

And sighing the Tattered Prince headed towards his men.

Gerald saw some men on horseback coming, recognizing some of the banners. Yronwood, Blackmont, Wyl, Manwoody, Allyrion.

"Ser Ryon, Ser Cletus. I welcome you to the battlefield."

"Thank you, Ser Gerald," said Cletus. "We're here to help House Martell. But I see we're too late," added the Heir of Yronwood, looking towards burning Sunspear.

"They are there, and they are waiting for us. I was placing the men in formation to attack the city before your arrival."

"It's a trap and you know that," said Ser Ryon. "If your plan to lure them out doesn't work, and we are forced to enter the city, we will be slaughtered."

"What do you propose, Ser Ryon?" asked Gerold.

"Make camp and wait for their move," intervened Lord Wyl. "Over there are their ships. They'll either attack us or run away to their bots. Both are in favour of us."

"And if they won't attack us or run, then what will we do, Lord Wyl?" asked Ser Cletus, looking towards Wyl's lord, and Wyl did not answer. Gerald was sure there was something odd about it and he really needs to keep his guard up with these lords.

"So, Ser Gerald? What is your decision? Do you want to attack the city and undoubtedly suffer a slaughter, or do you want to make camp and wait for a better time?" Cletus asked.

"Let's make camp. But with the watchmen on high alert," said Gerald, and then gave the order for the men to set up camp, while he and the other lords and knights found a good spot to watch the city and the fleet near the beach.

(Present)

Myr

"Help me!" Screamed the voice of a woman in the darkness, and Aenar couldn't see anything in the darkness, just hear those words, but he started walking anyway not afraid of the unknown of darkness.

After a while, a beautiful woman appeared before him, whom he knew very well, floating in the air, continuing to ask for his help and with her arms outstretched towards him. Then suddenly the dark tower appeared behind her and she was sucked into it.

A dark voice started to laugh, and along with it, blue lips appeared, before disappearing, followed by a bloody fire, with a black stone on top.

And he woke up immediately, breathing fast, and the view that was clouded a moment ago started to clear up, and he passed his hand over his face. He also felt the sweat on his body caused by his dream, which he had many times.

Raising up a bit, Aenar glanced towards the woman that was lying next to him to see if his awakens, woke her up, but fortunately, it didn't happen. Again, that dream and he know very well what it was meaning, but he could do nothing in that regard.

He lay down on his breast, resting on his elbow, to stare at her beauty while she slept peacefully, and by the gods if she was beautiful. Always beautiful. The most beautiful young girl he ever laid his eyes on. And he has seen young women in his late years.

Daenerys at the same time, she was sleeping naked on her side, one hand under her head, the other resting on her belly, thus giving him a chance to see her beautiful bare tits, since the sheets covered her hips, only.

He raised his hand, putting some locks of hairs behind her ear, and then caressed her face and lips for a moment. Daenerys answered with a sleepy moan, and that made him giggle in silence.

After giving her a kiss on the forehead Aenar got out of bed, and after putting something on he headed for the big room in the great bathtub.

After washing and dressing in a light tunic, and picking up Blackfire, Aenar made his way to the training area, followed by Arthur.

When he arrived there, he saw that his grandmother was already there, shooting with the bow, and Ser Barristan. Who was there beside her, ready to defend her.

" She has changed from the way she was in King's Landing," Arthur said, standing next to him.

"Of course, she did. She is younger," said Aenar chuckling, and running his eyes over her body, admiring her form. Well, as they say like mother like daughter. One could see from whom Dany took her beauty, not that there was any doubt considering they were almost identical. The only thing that would make them different were some years difference.

But his admiration for his grandmother's forms was interrupted by Arthur who kept talking.

"The Mad King treated her horribly, making her smile fade away forever. The only time I ever saw her truly smile was at the birth of her grandchildren. When Rhaenys was born, Queen Rhaella welcomed her warmly, unlike the King, who did not even bother to approach her because she was too Dornish. And I keep wondering why he accepted the marriage between Rhaegar and Elia."

"You should have been with them and not with me," said Aenar as he lowered his head, feeling the guilt light up inside him and burst forth. "If you had been there, my siblings would still be alive."

"Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe we would all have been in the afterlife already and not talking here and plotting our revenge. You have to stop blaming yourself for their deaths. It's not your fault that they died. They shouldn't even have been there."

"Easy to say that, Arthur. But it wasn't your parents who started a war. It was their selfishness."

"Enough!" said Arthur, raising his voice. "The past cannot be changed. One must only look forward to the future. Call it what you want, but if you keep living in the past, keep looking behind, you will be lost."

Aenar released a sigh, and said, "Westeros will cry tears of blood for what they did," and headed towards Rhaella, who kept shooting arrows but missing the center.

"You think too much," he said once he got behind her. "The enemy doesn't wait. If you want to use the bow, you must learn to be faster."

"I know. It's just that I have a lot on my mind," she said, looking down.

"What's troubling you?" he asked, hugging her.

"Only thoughts," replied Rhaella, sighing, and placing her hand on his.

"It kills me the way you are dressed," he said, giving her kisses on the neck. "I'm sure all these men are dying of envy knowing that you are only mine," he whispered, continuing to kiss her, while she let out moans.

"The Septons will curse you for this. The grandson who fucks with his grandmother. Never happened in Targaryen history."

"And you are complaining about that?" he whispered, giving a little push of his hips and his cock touched her ass.

"Gods no. Your cock inside me is the best thing I ever felt."

"Good. Anyway, if they had something to say, I'm sure Caraxes will gladly hear them," he said, turning her face and clashing his lips with hers. Then stopping and saying, "But Now let put aside this otherwise I will not resist the urge to fuck you here. To let you ride me," and she chuckled, shooting an arrow.

Remembering something he had received this morning, before heading here, Aenar stopping her again for a moment said, "Do you remember when you told me that the Mad King was making investigations regarding the tragedy of Summerhall?" and she nodded.

"I received a scroll from one of my spies at the Citadel. He says he found a book written 16 years ago by a master, and he's bringing it here."

"What does it say?" she asked, smiling, but he didn't answer, looking down. "Aenar. What does the book say?"

"He only wrote to me something he read quickly."

"Spit it out, for fuck sake!" she said angrily.

"The Mad King wanted to blow up the Citadel because they were behind the death of our family."

"What?" she looked at him confusedly, placing the bow down.

"Aerys Targaryen was going to send ships full of wildfire to the citadel before the rebellion. He wanted to burn to the ground Oldtown."

She was speechless, and he could read it on her face, leaving without another word, followed by Ser Barristan, and Aenar wanted to go after her, but was stopped, by Arthur. Who, shaking his head, said, "Leave her be. She will need to cool after this. Summerhall has let a deep sign on her as well as it did to Rhaegar."

Sighing Aenar nodded, and turning, he headed to the training yard.