A/N: I have decided to have split the end of the introductory phase of the story into two chapters (instead of the one, as previous promised).

So expect another chapter before we get on to Harry.

Also, I am in search of beta, and if anyone is interested in assisting me with this story, you are welcome to PM me.

Thank you.

Enjoy.

Ignotus spent a good part of the day taking oaths.

From the high lords of the Riverlands like the Brackens, Blackwoods and Ser Jared Frey on behalf of his father, to their vassals and landed knights like the Erenfords, Buckwells and Thornes'. Seated upon what used to be the Hoare throne, all of them seemed small as they cited their oaths of loyalty to House Teague, and they had to shout - their voices reverberating around the hall - so he could hear them clearly.

There were already talks of organizing a coronation to further legitimize his rule to the gods and men, but Ignotus had deterred his lords until after the war that surely would be over soon enough, what with them having captured the aged Iron King. They seemed to accept this with an odd sort of pride in their eyes, and though he thought it a simple act, they looked to believe it admirable.

With oaths taken and the ideas of a coronation postponed, matters immediately turned to punishing those who turned their back on their countrymen and betrayed the Riverlands.

Lucean Lolliston was brought forth to Great Hall the day after the battle, with his son Lothar Lolliston too to bear witness to his decree against his house.

"I admit, It's difficult to imagine why - when I sent the ravens to every lord in the Riverlands of how my house had been dishonoured - any lord would move against us," Ignotus shifted in his seat, his voice loud and clear as he leaned forward from the high seat, "I had expected it, for true, but I could not answer the why then, personally. So I ask you, why would you fight for the rapers and reavers that were our Ironlords?"

"For my king," Lucean Lolliston retorted, and even from his seat, Ignotus could see his defiance.

"The raper? You take honour in fighting for such a man?"

"Aye, he is was my king."

That made Ignotus angrier than he cared to show. Such levels of blind loyalty to a tyrant were as destructive as the infighting the riverlords seemed to delight in, and just might have sunk the Riverlands down to nothing had any other lord shared this mans sentiment. Women had been raped, children killed, and this man thought it a good thing to bend the knee to the men that committed such atrocities?

Ignotus would have been satisfied if the man had acknowledged, at least, that said king was as cruel as they came, but he was his king despite his shortcomings.

But to seemingly take pride in the Iron King because of the tendencies he brought with him?

"For betraying his countrymen and supporting the cause of rapers and thieves," He spoke in a measured tone, keeping his dismay in check, and making sure all the lords of the hall could hear, "I strip the house of Lolliston of all its land and titles," he paused, staring at the proud man who seemed shocked at his words, "And hereby sentences him and any other Lolliston who has taken any life of any riverman in this war to death."

"On what right do you make such a decree, son of a who -"

The guard that had brought him in silenced him with a swing of his fist.

"He's the king of all rivermen," Robert Darklyn spoke for him, "I recall you and yours falling under that."

"Thank you, my lord, though I am perfectly capable of asserting such a fact myself," He glanced at his godfather, who had the decency to pull away with an embarrassed look, "Take him to his cell. I would first have him hear his cause undone when we win this war. Still, he is no lord from this moment until the end of time."

Ignotus would have sooner left all punishments until the end of the war. The time he used passing out such would have been better spent preparing for another march, but this needed to be done. Many lords loyal to him were already quite unhappy with the traitors simply sitting in a cell, with no decree of their punishment being made yet. At least now, the impending punishments had been asserted, and they could focus on finishing the war.

At the very least, he hoped so.

"I ride out tomorrow, with most our horse. Lord Blackwood had the right of it in the Pipers seeking to put down the Bourneys and Cressey's south of him. Lord Piper sent out a rider asking us for aid after an apparent defeat near Grey Stone Holdfast and fears a siege would mean a capture for him, as they are ill-prepared for one. With the time the rider had taken to reach us, Pinkmaiden Castle may be under siege."

"Your grace," Lord Patrek Vance started amongst the men at the base of the steps with Ignotus - almost nervously - and Ignotus nearly shifted, not yet used to the title, "Would it not perhaps be more prudent to send a man in your stead, and you join the Mallisters at Seagard?"

"You named me your King of the Rivers and the Hills," He countered, "I would rather hold to my obligation to defend my lords personally. I will deal with the loyalists in the west, secure their seats and march north to rejoin you at Seagard. I'm certain it will not be a long affair, once they learn of their kings' capture."

"Your grace," The man lowered his head, understanding.

The war was no over yet, and yet the cost was already high. Their losses had finally been counted and numbered near seven thousand men, near half the men they had now with their ranks being swelled by the southern riverlords. It was odd to think that if the castle they currently sat in had been completed, they would still be launching boulders at its walls, failure just about certain.

"If that is all, my lords. We may call this council at an end."

"My king," Lord Olyvar Bracken raised his voice.

"Lord Bracken?"

"I had men search the old kings quarters and rookery for any letters that may be of importance," The man stood, and produced a parchment for Ignotus, placing it in his hands," Harren the Black had sent letters to many a lord, or had intended to, at least. There were those unsent, meant for the Durrandons and even the Lannisters. That one, your grace, was a response."

"He's invited the Dragon Lords to feast," He explained to the lords that hadn't seen the contents of the letter, "On matters of trade and peace."

Though the letter was rather a response from said lords, it made clear what Harren had first written about. They had demurred from a feast to a simple meeting outside the castle walls. Seemed even the Targaryens did not trust the ironborn. The dragonlords had promised to gather with the old king a fortnight after the initial letter, and that made him wonder if the meeting had happened at all already or they were yet to come.

Ignotus had never even sprung a thought towards the Targaryens, they were always so distant, and he could never decide on whether it was out of disinterest or simply out of a measure of arrogance. Arrogance would be strange from them since any Westerose king was richer and more powerful than they. Granted, however, they did have dragons. Though how effective were they in battle?

"This may well be unrelated to our war, Lord Bracken, though I thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"Your grace!" A man, one of his own guards, ran past the dozens of guards on the massive open door of the Great Hall, and bent his knee in front of him, tired and breathing heavily, "There is... a beast...huge... in the sky."

Ignotus understood him well enough.

"Today seems to be the day in which they were to meet," he sighed, realising that this indeed had to do with their war, "I will have to meet with this Aerion Targaryen myself. You will have to excuse me, my lords."

After beckoning the boy to rise and follow him, the riverlords stood and bowed as he left the hall, though he was too deep in his mind to acknowledge how strange it was to have men that had been his equals not long ago submitting to him in such way.

"Organize a guard, Percival," he said absentmindedly, and though he noted the strange look on the boys face, he went to do as he was bid. It took a moment for him to realise that he had referred to him as his now dead master-at-arms and captain of his guard.

Old habits died hard.

His mind drawing back to the matter at hand, Harren had sent the letter to the Targaryens as the war had been taking off, and had meant to send others out, but the old king must have had stalled for too long because his good father had reached Harrenhal before he could send the ravens. No doubt, with the Targaryens arriving now, the Iron King had expected to still be holding his seat.

And he would have been right. If the castle currently under his control had been complete, they would have been clawing at its walls for years on end.

That made Ignotus wonder what the Targaryen lord would have done if he found them outside still engaging in a siege. Would he have engaged them with his dragon, or returned to Dragonstone to wait out the war? Surely, with the lord agreeing to even attend a gathering with the Iron King at all whilst being aware of that he was fighting a war was, at least, an inclination of who he would have supported?

Having never seen a dragon, he found it difficult to imagine it being capable of destroying an army of what had been near twenty-three thousand men singlehandedly.

Harren must have surely been desperate. The man hadn't conveyed it, but him being willing to send whatever letters he had to other lords told him enough.

That brought him a measure of joy.

It was massive.

Scaled, blacked and towering over him like the walls of the castle behind him, the dragon posed an impressive, and even more prominently, an intimidating sight, something that he knew the Targaryen Lord was trying to ascertain from Ignotus.

Yet, Ignotus felt anything but fear, even as the large dragon landed, and broke in a roar so powerful he was sure the ground shook, he stood quietly, as the men around him shifted closer to him with their shields, his hand resting on his sword, feeling rather endeared instead of fearful. Every scale almost seemed a pearl to him, every flap of its wings a calming breeze, and every roar... a feeling.

He didn't understand it, he didn't even fully realise what it was - but there was inclination whenever it opened its mouth, an understanding he felt within him of it with every grunt and sniff the beast vocalized as if he was the one feeling what it felt - getting what he could only describe as impressions of disinterest and maybe confidence. He almost wanted to reach to it, to touch it with his hands, and perhaps he did, for one of the guards next to him uttered:

"Your grace?"

He turned to the man, nodded and focused himself.

The beast finally reared its head down for its rider to dismount, and in doing so, wholly regarded Ignotus. Then, what he felt transformed into interest, and...dismay?

It seemed that Lord Aerion Targaryen had not come alone, there was a smaller boy dismounting first instead, and though the silver-haired lads' feet were inches from the grass, the beast reared and the boy fell to the ground. Almost immediately it straightened again, and he got an even more powerful sense of discomfort. Though this didn't seem the time to dwell too much anymore.

"Check if he's unharmed. Drop your shields first," Ignotus commanded, and though they looked reluctant, two of his eight men ran forward.

When they neared him, Lord Aerion had dismounted. The younger boy had stood by then, and Ignotus was assured of his well being when after moments, they began approaching him, though the boy did limp lightly.

Lord Aerion carried himself with a powerful measure of pride, each stepping seeming as sure as the one before. He had the silver hair that could only belong to his family, and eyes that seemed like purple emeralds.

"King Ignotus," he greeted cordially.

"Lord Aerion," He returned with a nod, and turned to the boy who had fallen, "Is the boy alright?"

The boy did visibly take offence to being called that, but he did not speak out of turn, where many his age would have - simply eyeing him with a measure of curiosity, and though he hid it well, Ignotus could see a sort of hubris behind his purple eyes.

"I have no doubt that he will be well," Lord Aerion responded, turning to the boy, "He is my son and heir, Aegon.''

"I welcome both of you to Harrenhal," Ignotus went on, raising an eyebrow when he spotted the Targaryen Lord glanced back to the dragon with a frown.

"We...Thank you," he said, making it all too clear that he had no intention of ever entering the castle, though he did peer up in interest, "I had heard the stories of the construction of this castle. I had never quite imagined it to be as big as they made it to be. And yet, somehow, you managed to siege and tear down its walls in under a week. Remarkable feet."

"It was a weak wall, not so thick and as complete as the other sections. If we had found this castle complete and ready, we would still be besieging it down for years."

"King Harren seemed so certain that you would be," Lord Aerion gave him a smile, "He seemed sure that I would find you outside his walls before I could have met with him. To be true, I was rather interested in what he had to say to me. You can imagine how inconvenient your presence outside his walls would have been for my son and I."

Ignotus was not so much as a fool as to not see the warning there. What the man truly said:

'I would have bathed you in fire,' he said, 'If you had stood between my desires and me.'

"I'm sure," he retorted, almost rolling his eyes, "Though it's war, Lord Aerion. All men near it are inconvenienced."

The man's smile grew.

"It's not too late, however," Ignotus offered placatingly, "Harren sits in a cell of his own design. If you're truly interested in what he had to say to you, I will bring him to you. Or I would see you to his cell if you're so inclined."

"I had hoped to meet with a king," he shook his head, "He is nought but a raper and thief now. What could the man have to tell me that I would have a care to listen for now?"

"As you say then," He raised an eyebrow, growing tired of it, "If that was all, Lord Aerion."

After a small glance towards the dragon once more, who only continued to peer at them... or Ignotus himself, he could not be certain; he turned away from the man, and his men with them.

"I would take you on your offer," he heard him speak on behind him, "I've grown most interested in seeing this Harrenhal with my own eyes."

Ignotus was surprised, and he was sure his own face showed it. The man's own son, this Aegon, looked up to his father in astonishment, if not...annoyance?. He was quick enough to recover, strange as it was, and turned to face him once more.

"I would be pleased to receive you. And perhaps I would have a maester be sure to check on your son."

The man having an interest in seeing Harrenahal strong enough that he would trust Ignotus was a strange thing. Though he understood that he was previously positioned against the ironborn, he had assumed that he would not be eager to enter the castle of a king at war regardless of where they were from, and he could see that the younger Targaryen thought so too.

He looked around cautiously, if not a bit curiously, and though not at all displaying any sort of fear, he clearly was expecting some sort of incident.

Were they so confident in their dragons?

Atop them, they were gods, no doubt, but down here, surrounded by stone and wood, they were just men. If his confidence stretched so far, he must be a fool. It didn't that Ignotus would never attack a man after putting him under his protection, other men may not be so honourable. War was all around them, and war turned honourable men into things that were not themselves.

"Truly, a marvel," Lord Aerion said, observing the corridors and halls of the castle, "Madness, some may say."

"I would say so as well," Ignotus said, nodding at passing men and guards, "If I had seen it being built. Now, I find it difficult to not admire it as a fortress. Complete, no man could take it."

"Dragon fire could have it melted into ruin," Lord Aerion contradicted.

"Even they would have a hard task at it, still," Ignotus countered, and Aerion conceded.

"It's yours now. What will you do with this impressive seat?"

Ignotus did not know. He could give it to one of his lords to ensure further loyalty, but that would be a waste. Of course, the lands belonging to this seat were some of the richest and fertile in the Riverlands, yet, even with those riches, any lord here would be hard-pressed to pay for anything beyond the massive garrison it would take to hold it. The maintenance of it would put them into bankruptcy beyond that.

He would never be content to just leave it to decay into ruin, like the Oldstones all the way north, or the fabled Moat Cailin in the North. The Riverlands already had a lack of protection against the other kingdoms, a detrimental thing since they were surrounded by just about all the others, with the Lannisters to the west, the Arryns in the east and the Gardeners and Durrandons south...

Harrenhal would be the thorn of any foreigner attempting invasion in the future. It needed to be maintained and held.

"I've yet to see to that," he said, though he knew then what needed to be done.

"As you say," Aerion said in a manner that told him he did not believe him at all.

"King Harren lost all his power," The Targaryen said, when they made it to the Great Hall, or the Hall of a hundred hearths as it was starting to be called, "Because he saw it fit not to deliver justice for a scorned house? These ironmen work strangely."

"He was confident in his power," Ignotus put afoot to a single step towards the throne, "I can only imagine this castle, or perhaps the idea of its strength made him think himself untouchable. Or he is simply cruel."

The man he had sent to ask Lord Prentys Pentree - a bannerman of House Tully that had brought a maester with him - for the gaurd returned with said maester, an almost young-looking man with dark hair and his chains ringing, both approached, and both bowed before the maester turned to check on Aegon, who had taken seating on one of the seats set up for his lords whenever they held a council.

The boy seemed distracted in thought, even as the maester approached.

"How does your queen fare?"

It was easy to forget that Jeyne was a queen now.

"Well, I would hope. I haven't seen her in near a month, what with the march here and the days of the siege," Truth be told, he had tried his best to keep her some ways from his mind, so his concern did not cloud his mind and leave him livid. He turned to the man, who did indeed look interested in what he had to say of her, and he would later wonder if that was made him go on, "Sick, was how I left her. And with a pregnancy that may kill her."

Lord Aerions eyebrows raised, "Would this child be born of royalty?"

The man had a clever way of putting together words to be inoffensive, he realized. Perhaps that was his own fault. None of his lords were even expecting an heir of the Teague line, nor did his good father even know of Jeynes condition. He was hoping to get more out of this than a simple conversation, and having the Targaryen be sympathetic may help in that.

That was what he told himself. It could be that he hoped to speak of it with someone separated from him and the issue.

"It will be mine," Ignotus confirmed, "But the circumstances around its birth will be...Unwanted."

"These ironmen are barbarians," Aerion said, almost appearing to scowl, "Their sort need to be brought to heel."

Behind him, Ignotus could feel eyes on him.

"They will be left to do such to their own when I expel them from my kingdom. I won't have other women suffer the way my wife has with no justice. She will be the last, so long as I live."

Aerion Targaryen said nought for a truly long moment, and it had even grown strange for Ignotus, but he said nothing. Then, finally, he spoke:

"You're an interesting man, King Ignotus."

"Ignotus," He turned back, "When we're alone."

The screams of dying men echoed around Pinkmaiden Castle.

The scouts of the houses Bourney and Cressey had escaped the outsiders he had sent under Cadron Codd, and no doubted had alerted their respective lords of their oncoming cavalry. They had not retreated as Ignotus had expected, but had instead taken to an advantageous position up a hill and across the Red Fork north of Pinkmaiden. They had chosen to take to fight, even though their numbers were less than half of Ignotus' near five thousand cavalry force.

To their credit, they had fought well and had used the terrain as best they could, but the ground was hard and sure, and they hadn't enough spears to stop the cavalry charge that had scattered their army.

Lord Alyn Piper had come out of the castle with what remained of his retainers and joined Ignotus before the battle was joined, and none looked happier than he when Lyman Bourney was brought to his knees in front of them, bruised and bleeding.

"I would...pledge myself to you, your grace," The young lord spoke before Ignotus could open his mouth.

That made enough sense. Doubtless, he had heard of his kings' defeat, and with his army now scattered...

"I won't deny any river lord that right," Ignotus said, and next to him Alyn Piper looked furious atop his horse, "But you still fought against us. You will have to pay concessions to me, as your king, and more to Lord Piper, whose countryside you have ravaged with your betrayal."

Alyn Piper looked appeased silently, and Lyman... He could not tell what he thought behind all his blood, but he bowed his head.

"Have a maester see to him, Lord Piper."

"Your grace."

Lord Piper later pledged him fealty, with his vassals of Grey and Harlton too. The Cressey's had returned and held up in their castle of Mosbouough, but the ageing lord Osney Cressey had opened his gates and ridden out under a peace banner when he saw Ignotus' host approaching and thereafter pledged himself and his family to Ignotus and his descendants for all time.

Both the house of Bourney and Cressey's were to give up lands to the Vances of Atranta, the Pipers and the Hayfords. Though Ignotus had tried his best - despite his own dismay towards them - to not take too much from them, lest they be too unhappy and plot betrayal, as he had done the same with the Butterwells upon finding the gates of Butter Hall open to him during his initial march to Pinkmaiden.

All three houses had had the remnants of their forces to Ignotus' own and joined him in his march north.

With all the Riverlands - except the Darrys' who were still held up in their castle - now united under house Teague, all the was left was to fend of any more ironborn incursions from Seagard, or secure peace, depending on how the islanders responded to Ignotus' capture of their king, who he had entrusted to Dafyn Vance as he led their foot Seagard from Harrenhal.

Being at war and constantly on march, he felt it strange just about how little he knew was happening around him. The Lannisters could have been crossing in the Golden Tooth with a great host and he would not know it until they were mere days from. Jeyne could well be on death's door right now, and he would never know until it was too late for him to see her.

Such a thought scared him more than he showed, and it only grew worse the closer they travelled to Raventree Hall.

Once, when the castle of the Blackwoods came into his peripherals, he would have rushed on with his horse, Percival rushing to keep with him. But he was a king now, and Percival was not here. Everything had changed in less than three months.

Anson Blackwood, the second son of Lord Blackwood was the one to bid him welcome now, along with his sister Jayne Blackwood, with little of the garrison that remained. They all took the knew when he dismounted, and he did his best to not let his discomfort show to them in their courtyard. His comings now could never go unintended to the highest of degrees, and the Teague banner flapped above that of the Blackwoods now.

"Your grace," Anson said when he approached, "Our halls are you."

"I thank you, Anson Blackwood," he bid him up, and with him rose the entire courtyard, he turned to his sister and took her hand for a kiss, "My lady."

She flushed, as young girl do, and Ignotus noted her brother hide a snicker next to her, "My king."

"I'm sure however you will forgive me for seeing my la -"

He caught himself, and Anson smiled in understanding, "My queen, before anything else."

"Of course, your grace."

After confirming the men were getting settled, he allowed himself to be guided through the now more than familiar halls of Raventree Hall. They hadn't looked bothered by his request to see her, and so it only made sense to him that Jeyne was well. Though he wondered how well, and if she had even been allowed a walk around the castle, or if she was well enough for a walk around the castle.

"The queen has asked about you many times, sire," Anson spoke, almost carefully, "She wanted to write, but with the war... We knew not where you were. We could fulfil her request."

The young lord - older still than Ignotus - appeared to be concerned that he would be displeased at such a notion, though he knew it would have been an impossible ask, "You needn't worry. Even if you had sent a letter to Harrenhal, it would have arrived with me south, subduing the Cressey's and Bourneys with Lord Piper."

"Thank you, your grace," He nodded in visible relief.

The hall outside the sickroom had four guardsmen now, and inside was loud cheering. Entering, he saw Jeyne herself was attended by more serving girls than he last saw her with, most of them seated and watching, shouting encouragement at each step she took. There were three that were standing, helping Jeyne walk about the room, and so great was their noise and focus, they didn't seem to notice him standing by the door with Anson.

Jeyne was sweating, and her face visibly conveying the pain she was in.

Perhaps he should've been proud to see her trying so hard, but he could feel nothing but concern.

It took a bit for one of the girls closest to the door to note him, and the girl looked confused for a moment before recognition dawned and her eyes widened.

"Your grace!" She gasped and was quick to stand and bow before he could tell her to leave the courtesy. Her voice drew the attention of the others, and they too garnered surprised looks before rising to imitate her, the noise around the room dying down to complete silence. The serving maids helping Jeyne endeavoured to put her on the bed before doing anything else, helping her lay down.

When Jeyne finally set eyes on him she visibly brightened, before her expression soured.

"My queen," he walked in, cocking his head in confusion towards her.

"My king," She retorted, her voice tired, before addressing her ladies in waiting and bidding them out with thanks and commands to return.

"What has you angry with me?" he asked immediately when the chambers were empty.

"My family," She looked to him, taking a breath "None of them knew I was with child. My brothers and father went into a rage when I told them, promising to kill all ironborn. They thought I had a bastard growing in my belly."

"You don't."

"They did not know that," She sat up herself, slowly and with baited breaths, till her back rested on the head of the bed. She took a moment for her pains, and he took a moment to admire her growing belly, which was starting to protrude a bit more, "You, their brother, son and king didn't tell them. No doubt the word of my swelling belly is spreading now, and doubtless, most of the realm think I'm going to birth an ironborn because their king hasn't announced the coming of his heir."

"I thought it would have been prudent to wait until the end of the war," he argued, frowning. He had promised his good father speak of Jeyne, and yet, with him being pronounced king, there was too much requiring his attention, and just as things were calming down in the days following, the Piper rider arrived, and he had to ride with his horse to aid them.

However, thinking back on it now, perhaps he could have taken a moment to tell the Darklyns. It was not right for Lord Blackwood to know, but not them.

"If you had died," She countered irritably, "Would it have been my word against everyone elses'?"

"No, Lord Blackwood and Maester Maric would have backed you. And your family would not abandon you."

It was a weak argument, he knew it, and by the looks he received from her, she knew it too. That would have still put her in a precarious position, and even if all his lords accepted her claims, there would still be some doubt. Doubt that could be used against their child one day, especially if it did not look like him at all.

"Jon was almost imprisoned on Anson Blackwoods orders," she went on, "My father would have let it happen, though he did not want to. Jon called you weak, for not being able to face and tell them of my pregnancy, and what would come after. If I was not the queen -"

"I am sorry," he said to her, though he did frown. Jon Darklyns public dislike of him hadn't decreased now that he was king, it seemed, "I spend much of time wishing my brothers were in my place, being king and lord. I was raised to follow them, not to be a Lord. Now I find myself a king, and I haven't a clue if I'm leading correctly or not. I will try to be better. I will make the announcement when I am with all our gathered lords at Seagard."

His words were met silence, but he hoped they would be enough to satisfy her. She was right, to be true. He should have let the realm know of her pregnancy already, and proclaimed the child she birthed his undisputed heir should anything befall him, and taken measures to have a loyal regency rule for their child until it came of age if Jeyne was to truly die.

"How do you intend to have the ironborn hold to any peace you agree to?" Her voice once more told him of the concerns she had brought during their previous conversation, and better yet, he forgiveness.

"I don't. They never will."

Her exhausted expression grew confused, and so, he told her of his plan.

The air smelt of the sea and fire.

Behind him, the Teague banner sprung about with the wind, with most of the lords Riverlands standing underneath it, with near two-hundred men about them.

Ahead were two of the Hoares princes, the eldest of which being Harwyn Hoare, who was of an age with Ignotus, who couldn't imagine them being too happy with having to inherit a much small and weaker kingdom than he had been raised to believe. He stared at Ignotus quietly, impassively, nowhere near as arrogantly as his younger brother - Harlan Hoare - did from next to him.

Next to Ignotus was Harren the Black, chained and bloody.

Behind them, was seemingly all of the Iron Islands. It was a fleet so large that he could not see all the ships in it, all flying the various sigils of the iron lords, like the Greyjoy Kraken and the warhorn of the Goodbrothers. Such a host these ships surely bore would have provided a hard-fought battle if they had ignored Seagard and landed south, but even they would not have dared leave such a large host on their flank as the one that held Seagard as Ignotus was warring towards Harrenhal.

"Let us be direct Harren," Ignotus started, though he did not turn away from the ironborn heir, "You will leave the Riverlands, and renounce any claims your house believes it has over the Kingdom of the Rivers and the Hills. You will also vow to leave the Riverlands unbothered by any attempts at raiding for the rest of your rein, and your son and heir will vow the same. With that, you will be let free and be allowed to be escorted back to the Iron Isles safely by your lords. And I will release hostages each year of peace."

The man spat on Ignotus' face, which earned a fist from one of the men holding him, "Piss on that. My life is no precious thing. Kill all these Greenlanders Harwyn."

Ignotus wiped away the mans spit with his finger.

"My brother?" Harwyn voiced after a long silence, "Where is he?"

"Dead."

"Did he die in battle?" His jaw visibly clenched.

"He did."

He looked about, "Give me the man that killed him, and you will have your peace."

"No," It was not something he would even consider, even if he knew.

Harwyns hand fell to his axe, as did his brothers' and all the men they brought with them. Ignotus' reached for his sword, as did the rest of the rivermen behind him.

"We've met under the white banner," Ignotus' said, "I would sooner not shed blood here. You've evidently rejected my terms. Then let it be war, but not here."

"We accept your demands, craven," Harwyns hand fell away from his axe, "Give me my father and let me rid myself of your lands, and I hear my vow to the Drowned God. I will leave you lands unmolested, should you hold your end to our agreement."

Ignotus was silent, waiting for Harrens protest, but a look passed between son and father that, and when Harren spoke, he almost knew it all to be false:

"I relinquish my claim to the kingdom of the rivers and the hills, and vow to leave your lands unmolested for the rest of my reign as Iron King, should you let me be to go with my son and lords."

The words were strained and forced, and he clearly had no desire to speak them. Ignotus almost had both men delves deeper, be more specific in their words so as to avoid any loopholes they may use to justify their actions, but... He knew it made no matter. They would still wage war, regardless of what was said here.

Ignotus nodded, and Harren was unchained and pushed to his sons.

"Then let there be peace."

Of course, Ignotus had expected an attack.

He had let the men take their king back to their ships, and retreated back to Seagard, where their host was camped around the town. The journey back was silent, even from the riverlords, who surely were wondering if he was fool enough to trust the ironborn to keep their words, though were to wary to question him on it so publically and so soon.

He was glad to prove to them he wasn't.

The ships on Ironmans Bay did not turn to sail away or to even convey that they desired to leave. Ignotus watched them from the Balcony of the Mallister seat, waiting for them to move aggressively as he expected. Lord Mallister was next to him, as well as Lord Bracken and Blackwood.

The two latter lords had halted all their forms of public distaste towards one another, and worse, even listened when the other spoke during the councils instead of outright dismissing each other words. Tales differed about why they were almost cordial, some claimed Lord Bracken had saved Lord Blackwood from death when the man was put on his back by an Ironborn during the siege of Harrenhal, others claim it was the Blackwood that saved the Bracken.

It didn't matter to Ignotus' which was correct. He was glad that his camp had little feuding.

"We should have just killed Harren, your grace," Walder Mallister said mournfully.

"The Hoares might well hold up to their vows," Ignotus countered, "As unlikely it may be... We might have the peace we desire. If not, well, the king may not live long yet."

It took a moment for all of them to notice it some distance away, but many of the ships were sailing towards the shore - far too many for a simple parlay.

"Here they come," Ignotus muttered, "Have men beat the drums, Lord Blackwood. Have them stay as far away from the shore as you can."

The lord looked confused, but he moved to do as he was bid, as the ship drew closer, which were becoming more noticeably full of ironborn. Ignotus had hope that it would not come to battle at all, but it was best to be careful. Though he had no doubt they would win out against the Iron Born, even if they were outnumbered - which he knew them not to be, what with their numbers now being supplement by the Ryger and Mallister men that had been stationed here, bringing their numbers just over the twenty-thousands onces more.

"These men revel in bloodshed and rape," Olyvar Blackwood said, "Why is it the gods saw fit to have such filth roam our lands?"

"To test us," Walder Mallister answered, "For I see no other reason."

"An interesting test, this," Lord Bracken uttered in dismay, not at all liking the answer.

"Regardless of the why," Ignotus said - not at all a believer himself, drawing their attention as the first ship landed, "I intend to see us through this."

The sky darkened for but a moment, and before they could all blink, dark fire bathed the first ships, and even from here, he could hear the screams from the ironborn raiders as they burned and fell from their ship, into the water. The few that had managed to disembark burned to crisps, falling to the earth in screaming. It was pure destruction, and he wondered if any of them would survive.

"Send them fleeing," He had said to Aerion Targaryen at Harrenhal, "But leave most to tell the tale."

"It will be as you say," Aerion had nodded, frowning, whilst his son looked furious next to him, "Then our agreement will be in effect."

"It will be. If all happens as I was told."

"Your grace," Lord Mallister whispered from next to him, "What is this?"

"The end of the war."

'Jeyne forgive me.'