A/N: Erratic schedule go brrr. No, seriously, this chapter is because I couldn't sleep and I really wanted to get this out. Welcome to Negotiations 101, featuring a crash course in "how to stablilze the Realm 101" with Robb, Margaery, Stannis, and Aegon, alongside more weird magical shit.
Also, special thanks to wisewillow for being an awesome help in analyzing Stannis's character! Hope you enjoy the chapter!
MARGAERY XIV
"That upstart boy's claim is false and I will not stand for another false-born boy on the Iron Throne that is mine by right! Nor will I stand by this…this insult, from a Tyrell and the son of Ned Stark, about Northern independence, no less!
Robb and I shared a look.
"My lord, you cannot be serious." Robb deadpanned. "The lords have casted their vote, and by word of mouth and preliminary tallies, it is clear that you have lost by a wide margin. The votes are split almost exclusively between Aegon Targaryen and myself. You consented to this council, and you agreed to abide by the decision made at its conclusion."
King Stannis Baratheon, flanked by Ser Davos Seaworth, gritted his teeth as Robb and I attempted to pacify his rage for the umpteenth time, in this negotiation.
"Lord Stannis, surely you must see some sense here," I said, attempting to elect as pacifying of a tone I could manage. "You have lost this Great Council. There is no real fight to be had for the Iron Throne, and as Lord Targaryen has noted, your armies would be crushed in a real battle. The only fight left is the fight to place yourself and your daughter over Storm's End over Renly under the new king's reign!"
Stannis's glare was fierce and unbending. Ours truly was the fury indeed, I thought to myself, because this obstinacy was becoming annoying.
"You dare stand before me, as spineless sycophants, bending the knee to a boy who may well be a Blackfyre? I am the lawful King of Westeros–"
"-A law you yourself put in question by joining this Great Council–" I couldn't help but blurt out furiously.
"-one that was mine brother's by right, and now, mine by right, based on the laws of succession established after Robert's Rebellion." Stannis replied firmly, ignoring the very obvious holes shot in his arguments in the earlier speeches.
And that, I reflected, was Stannis's greatest weakness in action. He's unbending in negotiations, and has no head for politicking. One was ruinous in gaining a kingdom through diplomacy, but both together were fatal to Stannis's chances at winning this Great Council. He never stood a chance to begin with, not with his army, nor with his methods.
Robb sighed.
"Lord Stannis," he began, "I understand the frustration that you may be feeling, and the insult dealt to your person through these negotiations."
Stannis bristled at the reminder, as Robb paused to collect his own thoughts.
"However, the deed is done, and what we as a delegation are here for is to establish the best outcome for all parties involved." Robb finished, emphasizing the all. "You have a chance at securing the Stormlands under the new reign, and you have a duty to your people to prepare for the long winter ahead."
"It is my duty," Stannis said slowly, in a way that clearly emphasized that he, too, was at the end of his patience. "To lead the Seven Kingdoms in the fight against the Great Other." And not my duty to settle for the Stormlands, he left, unsaid.
But pregnancy had destroyed my tolerance for BS and my hormones were completely out of whack. Talking to what seemed like a brick wall, for the better part of an hour, no less, was more than enough for me, even if it was an absolutely terrible move politically.
"My lord," I said, in a sickeningly falsely-sweet tone that set my husband on edge, "We have attempted every avenue possible for negotiation for a better realm. If you had attempted to negotiate with us, perhaps we would have pooled together our votes and formed a bloc that would have effectively helped us negotiate with this new regime to create a settlement that would satisfy all parties involved."
I grabbed Robb's arm firmly, and his wary look at me made it clear he knew exactly what I would do if this farce continued.
"Unfortunately, you have resisted every olive branch and attempt for the past hour to negotiate, and it is clear that you do not want us here. I wish you the best of luck, Lord Stannis, in future negotiations. Perhaps we can…re-negotiate this, another time." I finished, curtsying to the Stag Lord himself, and walking out of the tent with Robb in hand, without so much of a by-your-leave.
This would have been successful, except that my luck was clearly pretty terrible today, because Robb and I ended up crossing paths with Lady Melisandre, who was headed back to Stannis's tent. The Lady Melisandre, Red Priest, Mistress of Shadows, Melony Lot Seven, etc etc etc.
Melisandre was…dangerous, in a very unique way to Robb and I. In seeing Arya for the first time, she had divined from Arya's future that she would be an assassin, and she had the tendency for insight on matters that probably should be left behind. With Robb, I was uncertain of what she would see - would his changed fate, or Bloodraven time-stream, affect her insight negatively? And with my…unique background, so to say, what would she divine from looking at me?
I prayed that whatever divine force that had brought me here would obscure her vision, or something, because otherwise, she would have a mental breakdown or go insane or any other reaction that could be equally dangerous to us.
Don't look, just walk away, don't look, please, for the love of god, don't look, I begged the Seven, the Old Gods, the divine force that had brought me here, anything.
But curiosity killed the cat, because upon looking at me, she stared. She stared some more.
"A girl wishing to be Queen, thrice wedded, never bedded. A trial before the false Seven, an explosion of the Sept, a death among the sheep, beloved by all but truly by none, and yet…" Melisandre intoned creepily as she attempted to divine me.
"But yet..but yet…" Melisandre continued, and I once again pleaded, prayed, begged, whatever - as Robb stared at the horror upon my face with growing confusion.
And her eyes lit up with manic glee as she continued.
"Castles of metal gleaming in the sunlight, taller than the sky - metal birds that defy the lands below - and yet, war, terrible war! Air that kills thousands in minutes, wildfire that scars the land beneath, and more terrible, terrible–" she said, her words picking up faster and faster, greedily looking into something she had never seen before, something that was completely alien to her–
Until it looked back.
Melisandre screamed, a haunting wail, moaning in pain as she processed what she had seen.
"I don't understand!" She wailed, keening as she lay on the ground. "Lord of Light, I do not understand! She is here and she is not here and she is there but she does not exist and she—"
And she hissed.
"The Great Other." Melisandre spat out, almost as a curse "An aberration."
"My lady, you don't know what you're talking about!" I cried in panic. "I– I didn't mean any harm. I'm not—"
"You are not meant to be here." Melisandre intoned, her voice echoing with the voice of what seemed like a thousand people and one at the same time. "BEGONE, ABERRATION!"
Evidently, I was talking to the Lord of the Light…through Melisandre. Creepy.
"Look, uh…Rhillor?" I started, hesitantly. "I don't understand why I am here, but I mean no harm—"
"YOU HAVE DISRUPTED THE SONG!" She (it? How do you pronoun a God, anyways? I thought hysterically) screeched. "YOU HAVE ALREADY CAUSED HARM!"
"Margaery, I don't—" Robb spluttered. "What—"
"It's her!" I replied frantically. "The Lord of Light— Rhillor— Whatever it is, it's speaking through her!"
I mustered all the courage I could, and tried a different tack.
"Uh, Rhillor?" I asked nervously. "I know I disrupted the Song and changed events, but is there anything I can do to mitigate, or, or—-"
"The damage is already done, and fate has changed," it said wearily. "But you are anathema to one and all, with a presence that defies fate itself."
"Anathema?" I asked desperately. I needed to know if I could do anything, take any avenue to change what had already been written.
"I will only offer one warning, Aberration." it intoned. "Fate has broken, and agents of the Great Other seek to meddle to bring eternal winter. I cannot help you, for you are anathema to my followers and myself. BEGONE!"
And Melisandre collapsed, her strings cut, as she fell to the ground unconscious.
Robb and I shared an uneasily look, and we ran as fast as we could to our tent. Whatever it was, we'd find out later.
AEGON III
"How would I negotiate with the King in the North?" he asked Sansa curiously, one sunny morning amidst the wait in the council, as she carried books to her customary library table.
"How would you negotiate with the King in the North?" Sansa repeated his question thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you'd need to balance the demands of the North with the demands of your people - Northerners are a very proud people." Sansa answered firmly. "But–"
"But?"
"But, Your Grace," Sansa responded teasingly, as she absently looped a lock of her beautiful red hair between her fingers, "The most important thing is knowing who to negotiate with."
"To negotiate with? Would that not be the King in the North himself?"
"My brother is a genius at war, and the King of the North, yes, but he is only decent at politics and diplomacy. He is not the one you must negotiate with."
"If not your brother, then who? Who must I be wary of in negotiating?"
"That," Sansa answered, "would be my good-sister, Margaery. She had learned much from Lady Olenna, and is the key tie between the lands of the North and Riverlands, and the lands of the Reach, besides. Many underestimate her because she is merely four and ten, and that would be to their detriment. I know Lady Olenna and Margaery control the inner workings of House Tyrell itself, and Margaery paved the path to a crown for my brother and herself."
"And your brother allows her to influence his decisions?"
"Allow it?" Sansa repeated, a giggle blossoming on her sweet face. "Robb would be lost without it! He has learned not to doubt her wisdom, and he is better for it."
Aegon laughed.
"I suppose I should have seen that coming. Smart women are a complement to any lord, no less a king. Jaehaerys and Alysanne have proven no less, and you embody that trait, my lady," he said, to Sansa's smile.
"My lord is too kind," she responded demurely,, "I hope I am as much help to my lord husband. Not a lady to sit around the keep and bear babies for, but a lady that can make the realm better through her wisdom, and one that can heal her people's hurts."
"Here, you are, advising a king that is not even yours on his own claim, and dare I say, making the realm better with your knowledge and guidance." He replied. "You are better than you know, my lady Stark, and your wisdom would be the furnace for any lord's success for generations to come."
And Aegon smiled, as he snapped out of that thought, and entered the conference tent of the King and Queen in the North alone. Jon, his loyal Hand, had balked at that, asking him to bring him, or at least Aemon to negotiate, but he would have none of it. He knew what he had to do.
He would need that wisdom, for the difficult conversation ahead, he thought, as he sat down at the table opposite King Robb and Queen Margaery.
"King Aegon." Robb Stark intoned.
"King Robb, and Queen Margaery. I am honored to sit with you opposite the negotiating table."
"Let's get to the point, shall we?" Robb asked. "We have a realm to heal, and Lannisters to kill. We have the same aims, despite our crowns, and we must band together before–"
"-Before eternal winter?" Aegon asked hesitantly, to Robb and Margaery's shock.
"You know?" Robb asked incredulously.
"I have dreamed of an eternal winter, ever since I could remember," Aegon answered Robb. "A broken, frozen realm, a King, with a circlet of ice, laughing next to frozen corpses. I have no idea what it means, but—"
"The Long Night," Robb replied heavily. "I had thought I was the only one, but—"
"Dragon dreams," Margaery finished decisively. "If what you say is true, you are truly a dragon. Then you know what is necessary."
"To prepare the realm," Aegon recited. "To secure the Northern border, to defeat the king. But–"
"You have heard, perhaps, of the Long Night?" Robb questioned.
"Sansa told me tales," Aegon replied honestly. "And I have heard enough about the Age of Heroes to know that much will be needed to defeat the threat."
"Good on Sansa," Aegon thought he heard Margaery mutter, before she turned to Robb. ""My love, we are all aware of what is coming. We need to stabilize the Realm now."
Robb nodded absently.
"King Aegon", Robb started. "I am no Torrhen Stark. My people have crowned me King - those of the North and the Riverlands. The capture of my brother and my father–" and here, Robb shuddered at the memory, until his eyes became hard and resolute,
"-Their capture has hardened the North and Riverlands, and has fostered their distrust in the people of the South." Robb finished. "I have no quarrel with you nor your people, and the people of my wife's lands are wonderful, but the North remembers. They will never bow again."
"Not even if their Queen was of the North?" Aegon asked slyly. "If I were to marry Sansa Stark, there would be an easy pathway to assuage the feelings of your bannermen and bring great personal advantage to all parties involved."
"We had assumed that you were…to marry your lady aunt," Margaery responded uneasily. "It would shore up your claim, and—"
"My aunt Daenerys has decided to stay in Essos, shoring up our power there. She is happily married, besides, and even a fool would know that bigamy would be frowned upon in the light of the Seven."
"Then why not Shireen Baratheon?" Robb asked suspiciously. "She would bring the Stormlands, unite both claims, and make for an easy victory against House Lannister. Then, the split would be secure–"
"I am no fool, however. The Tyrells are tied intimately to you, Queen Margaery, and the Martells, less so, even if they are tied to me. The Vale would be unstable either way, with Robert Arryn at the head of the Vale, cousin to King Robb. My words are wind, as my alliance with House Tyrell and Martell are predicated on a promise to them which could be nullified at any time, and my rule would be unstable."
"The North seeks no quarrel with the South," Margaery assagued, "but rather, we as a people have been slighted one too many times by the Iron Throne, and seek our own independence."
"Yet, if the North truly wanted independence, it would assert it and take it. I can read the signs clearly - with the North, Riverlands, and Reach at your side, you could crush the Golden Company and invoke civil war within Dorne that would grant you the Iron Throne at the drop of a hat."
"I do not want the Iron Throne–" Robb rebutted, causing Aegon to laugh derisively.
"For someone who claims that he does not want the Iron Throne, he is in a perfect position to place himself on the Iron Throne…unless he wishes to play kingmaker. Aemo— Jon," Aegon corrected himself, "would suit the Iron Throne with a claim similar to mine, had you played up his claim, and you could have either placed him and his betrothed as puppets on the Iron Throne or ruled yourself."
Aegon's rant continued, as his points crystallized. "Yet, for some reason, it seems that you refuse to do so, and I am not so naive enough to believe it is out of the goodness of your hearts. Speak plainly, or I will end this farce now. What is it that you want from me?""
Margaery sighed. "My love," she addressed Robb, "the farce is over. We must speak honestly if we wish to achieve our aims–"
"But Margaery–" Robb interrupted.
"He knows, Robb. Frankly speaking, this is our best shot. You are my lord husband, however, and I—"
"You are right." Robb stated wearily. "Save the theatrics and begin the explanation, please."
She nodded.
"You are aware, of course, of greenseers, correct?" she asked, and Aegon nodded.
"Robb is a greenseer," Margaery explained. "..and if what we know is true, he is perhaps the strongest living greenseer currently. He has foreseen eternal winter, just like you, but…he is intimately aware that if he and I were to take the Iron Throne by force from you, the realm, and the world would be dead in mere moons after wights march from beyond the Wall."
"And yet, this involves me, and not Jon?"
"Originally, Daenerys Targaryen was supposed to protect the realm, with three dragons she had hatched on her own. Jon— Aemon, was supposed to tame one of the dragons, and the two of them were supposed to defend us from the Long Night."
"But?"
"Things have changed too much. The dragons are nonexistent, things are happening too soon, and too late - the world has changed. It is likely Daenerys will stay in the East, and if what we know is correct–"
Both Robb and Margaery shuddered at a shared memory.
"-The Great Other, that "king" you describe - he has the advantage now. We need dragons, and dragon controllers more than ever, and frankly, you're our best shot." Margaery finished.
"Then that means—"
"That you need to be King on the Iron Throne, and that an alliance must be made between the Kingdom of the North and the Riverlands and the Iron Throne in order to prepare for the Long Night, I understand."
And Aegon understood, truly understood. This is the reason I– no, all of us were born. This is the reason I am even here in the first place. If we don't prepare, everything ends. He prayed to the Father for his knowledge, to the Crone for wisdom, to the Mother's warm embrace — anything, anyone, to help him prepare for what would happen next.
"Then," Margaery addressed Aegon, "We are on the same page, but we need to actuate our claims in a way that satisfies all parties involved. Let the real bargaining begin."
"Agreed. I will start with my offers: I will reinstate you, King Robb, as the Warden of the North, and make you Lord Paramount of the North, reinstate Edmure Tully as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, and take your sister, Sansa Stark, as my Queen. That should satisfy all parties involved."
"We cannot give up our own crowns so easily," Queen Margaery argued fiercely. "Keep the North and Riverlands independent, draw up alliance agreements with our land, take lady Sansa as your Queen, and we will ally with you to secure the Throne. In exchange, you will help us prepare for the Long Night, and when the wights come, we will fight as one."
"That is precisely the reason the North and South must unite! Besides, the Riverlands is difficult to defend at best, even as a sovereign kingdom–"
"-which would only occur if you invaded us." Margaery finished, her eyes narrowing. "Exactly what are you implying?"
"I am implying nothing of that sort," Aegon replied coolly - "rather, that, your so-called sovereign Kingdom was held precisely because the Neck was defensible territory, making it problematic in the long term to defend the Riverlands."
"They are still sworn to me, however," Robb replied. "Your point has merit, however, but my people will not suffer reunification unless they feel as though the North is adequately represented within the South - otherwise, the cultural divides are too strong. Perhaps reunification could be made in a generation with a double marriage–"
"-Unfortunately, I had promised the Martells that Willas and Arianne's children would marry my lady Wife and I's, and if I married Sansa, then that would be too favorable."
"-A single marriage then, between a Princess of the Iron Throne and a Prince of Winterfell, then, and to allow the North to use their titles of King until time immemorial–"
"-which I cannot grant either, because it fosters too much divide. If I allow one realm to calm themselves King, another to call themselves Princes, and all of the rest to call themselves Lords, this would foster rebellion–"
"-King Aegon, my love, perhaps we have been negotiating this the wrong way." Margaery interrupted. "We want reunification without slighting Northern lords and Riverlords, which means we want the same goals - we just need to figure out how to assuage each party."
Robb nodded.
"You're right, my love. The Northmen need to feel independence and gain the privileges of independence and to find a resource to improve the North as a Realm - what can we do to effectuate that?"
"Of course, a Northern Queen would do much to soothe the ego of the lords, one with blood of the Riverlands and the North," Aegon began, a little too eagerly, "But if the North and Riverlands as a singular realm were granted the privileges of Dorne, then—"
"Not so fast," Robb's glare cut Aegon off. "Marrying my sister?"
"My love, it is the best match possible, with Daenerys Targaryen unavailable as a match." Margaery attempted to convince her husband. "Sansa deserves to be Queen, and there is clear affection between the both of them."
"I cannot agree to the match until I have the approval of Mother, however—"
"Who would agree, especially after seeing Sansa's happiness. It is a solid match, my love."
"Fine, but only if Sansa herself also agrees" Robb conceded with a huff, and Aegon's smile widened! He would be betrothed to Sansa Stark! He struggled to keep the excitement out of his expression, but Margaery's impish smirk communicated to him that she could tell anyways. She would have to approve it herself, but—
"How will we reunify the lands, then?" Margaery's voice filled Aegon with ice as he realized he had been spacing out. "We need marriages in order to bind the land together in the next generation."
"Unfortunately, my heir is promised to House Martell, and secondarily, House Tyrell." Aegon noted.
"Then have your eldest daughter, or another suitable daughter, marry any future son of ours, as the Prince of Winterfell. It would be a cousin marriage, unfortunately, but would bring stability into the North."
"Agreed." Margaery nodded and continued.
"Next on the docket is appeasing the Northmen. If the North cannot be given the privilege of Kings, the North can have Princes and Princesses of Winter. Give House Stark the same privileges of Dorne, as well as the monetary benefits of Dorne and Dornish houses, and that should assuage most of the Northmen."
"On one condition, however," Robb added, "Margaery and I need to keep our titles, and upon our death, we will concede those titles. Future rulers of the North will be Princes and Princesses."
"Agreed" Aegon replied easily. "What of the Riverlands?"
"Grant House Tully the same privileges, and that would do much to assuage the Riverlords."
"Too confusing," Aegon replied. "I will reinstate them as Lord Paramounts, but no more than that."
"Agreed." Margaery replied. "Two last things on the docket - the lands around the Wall and the Long Night. You may not know, but Queen Alysanne's proposal of a New Gift in 58 AC has led to the lands becoming long neglected, with meager returns. This is…problematic, if we wish to prepare the Wall for the Long Night. Grant the land's ownership to House Stark, instead, and allow us to add an infusion of funds into the New Gift, or return the lands to their original owners."
"The lands are too vulnerable, and it would reduce any incentive I, or any descendent of ours, would have the land long after I pass. Sharing the land would be a more viable solution, unless a better option is discovered."
"That is agreeable. So long as those deals are in effect, and the Iron Throne assists us in fully preparing for the Long Night, that should complete the agreements within our realms." Robb proposed.
"I have no opposition to this proposal." Aegon responded. "So it is agreed."
"Oh, how Torrhen would have wept.." Robb jested. "Now, I would bend the knee, but–"
The candles suddenly darkened, guttering out, and the feeling of cold thickened the room. Something moved in the green darkness, and to Aegon's horror, the shadow coalesced in the form of a man—of Stannis Baratheon.
Robb's eyes affixed onto the shadow, which aimed itself squarely at the back of his wife, and he brandished his sword. They moved as fast as they could, but Aegon realized distantly that both of them were too far away.
"MARGAERY!"
Ending A/N: Welp, here come the shadow babies! As for why Margaery….it'll be explained in the next chapter….if you haven't figured it out already
