My Name is Daemon Targaryen and I am Going Home

by Alperez16

A different champion steps up for Tyrion changing the outcome of the Trial by Combat and the game itself.

4. He's Making a List,He'sChecking it Twice

The Vale 300 AC.

Daemon Targaryen.

Gulltown was remarkably untouched by war and he and his companions both had differing views about it. Ser Marq and the Greatjon had seen and heard about the suffering their lands had gone through. While marching through the Riverlands they'd come across Tywin Lannister's work more than once. The Old Lion having basically unleashed all the monsters that took their orders from him on any who stood in his way.

Keeps had been destroyed, villages burned, Smallfolk raped, tortured, and murdered as the Brave Companions, Amory Lorch, and The Mountain were given free rein to do their worst. The Northmen and the Rivermen weren't free from guilt either, war brought out the worst in people after all. Yet they'd at least been somewhat restrained, or the worst of them had paid tenfold for when they were not. Tywin hadn't just encouraged his men to give in to their basest of natures, he'd demanded it of them and when it did come time for him to pay for all his crimes, Daemon would give into his in return.

Moving around the town, he could see how annoyed the Greatjon and Ser Marq were getting at how people here moved as if they hadn't a care in the world. So much so that when they finally made it to the tavern, he had to pull them both aside and bid them hold their tongues. Something he was glad they agreed to do as he had no wish to bring attention to himself while here. Not when he had much further to go and more important things to do. There was only one room available to rent and so he took it, the two beds would not see him sleep in either of them anyway and it would only be for one night. On the morrow, the Greatjon and Ser Marq would head North to White Harbor and so they sat, ate and drank and spoke on meaningless things, or at least they did until they took to their room that night.

"What plans have you got in the Vale, Daemon?" the Greatjon asked when Ser Marq finally drifted off to sleep.

"Many, Lord Umber, Many. I was born a prince, some say a king as my brother had been killed before I took my first breath. But in truth, it was a prince as I'd not been crowned and until it's placed upon your head then all you are is an heir to that throne." he said trying not to chuckle, the Kindly Man had used the same argument against him once when he'd named him a prince, Daemon taking the opposite view to the one he now took "My birthright had been stolen from me, however, and so I was left with very little to inherit. Some letters my father sent to my mother, some songs he'd written for her, both their journals and some papers which named me true."

There had been some other things, some trinkets that had allowed him to walk into the Iron Bank and claim more of his birthright, but that was not for the man in front of him to know.

"And a list." he said when the Greatjon bid him continue.

"A list?" the Greatjon asked confused.

"My god has many of them, Lord Umber, pray you never end up on one." he said and he saw the small gulp the giant man took "This one though was written in my mother's hand and bore few names, few but important ones. Before I breathe my last breath each and every name on that list will be marked off and the Many-Faced God will have his due, as will my mother."

"There are names of people in the Vale?" The Greatjon asked.

"There are but two." he replied, not willing to share anymore which the Greatjon picked up on.

"Walder Frey? He was on your mother's list?"

"He was on mine own. I may not have known my cousin or his mother, but they were my blood, Lord Umber, and my god gave me leave to see them pay for their crimes. They and others responsible for the Red Wedding."

"The Boltons." The Greatjon said and the look on his face was one that Daemon knew all too well, a look that said they were on a list of his own.

"The Boltons will not rest easy on the seat they've stolen, no more than Tywin Lannister will." he said and with that, he thought the conversation done and expected the Greatjon to go to his bed, only for the man to surprise him.

"I knew your mother well, lad. Not as well as I had hoped." The Greatjon said wistfully "I was not alone in wishing her to be mine. I doubt there was a man in the North who didn't have that particular dream. She was a wild thing and well….wild things seek to be free. I think that's why most of us truly marched. Oh don't get me wrong, I respected your grandfather and named your uncles my friends, but it was for your mother I marched and I wager most of the others felt as I did."

He watched as the man walked to his bed and sat down, the Greatjon looking at him all the while and when Daemon turned to look out the window, the man spoke his last words for the night.

"I'm glad to find that it was not as I thought. That she found that freedom she sought and that the choices she made were her own. Should others speak as I did when you first told me, give them the time you gave me to speak more truly. For your mother was loved, Daemon, and love is a powerful thing." The Greatjon said and with that, the room was silent for the rest of the night, or perhaps Daemon was so lost in the thoughts that ran through his head that he simply didn't hear any more sounds.

Ser Marq woke first the next morning with the Greatjon waking almost an hour later. Daemon had barely slept, a few moments here or there was all he allowed himself. Truth be told there were few times when he slept a full night's sleep. The dreams that came to him when he did so were only part of the reason for that. His training being the main one. As unless you were with those of the order or those you trust, or in the House of Black and White itself, you would more often than not be too alert to sleep.

They broke their fast and made their way to the docks, both men walking just a bit quicker than they had up to then. The thoughts that one more journey would take them not just to safety, but to the beginnings of the vengeance and justice they sought were enough to make them both eager for it to begin. Both men were armed and though not where they once were physically, he felt they'd be more than a match for anything they met on the way to White Harbor. Standing on the docks he said his goodbyes to each of them and when they asked if they'd see him again, he once again invoked his god's name. For it was only the god of death himself who'd stop that from happening.

"The North, Daemon, who can I trust in the North?" the Greatjon asked worriedly, the first time he'd truly saw the man so.

"Lord Wyman is a good man and true, and mine own men seek but one thing, to put a Stark back in the seat of Winter. Speak to Lord Wyman and he'll tell you of others, but even if none come to my side, I fear not and I'll have enough to see the Bolton's fall." he said and the Greatjon looked at him curiously "The Company of the Rose, Lord Umber, they've finally returned to the lands of their forefathers." he said and the loud laugh the man made drew some attention, as did the smack to his back from the man's giant hand.

"You truly are a fucking wolf aren't you." The Greatjon said.

"Not only, Lord Umber, not only."

He watched the two men board the ship and then the ship itself sail away. Once it was out of sight he turned and walked back into the town proper. The horse he purchased looked steady and the supplies he bought should make his journey to the Eyrie as pleasant as it could be. Yet it was the words of the stable master that he felt would be his true comfort as he rode with the many others who were heading to the same place as he. A wedding was to be held which would make his arrival less suspicious. Now he and other men would seem to be there for the tourney that was being held to celebrate that wedding. The heir of the Vale was to be married and while some felt he was marrying beneath him, others spoke of Petyr Baelish's bastard daughter as being a beauty and worthy despite the stain of her birth.

Daemon found he cared not whether that was true or not, for the girl's father was who he sought and not the girl herself. For far too long that man had stolen air that didn't belong to him and that he had no right to breathe. He and the woman he now named as his wife. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the worn piece of paper and looked at the names written there. Some he'd already crossed off and others that had yet to meet their fate. Two more were soon to be offered to the Many-Faced God and the thoughts of that cheered him somewhat.

"Mother." he said softly as he placed the paper back in his pocket and as they rode through the open lands to the mountains ahead.

The Stormlands 300 AC.

Jon Connington.

He'd left Griffin's Roost garrisoned with some of his men, Ronnet telling him there was no need and Jon explaining that when word came that he marched with the Golden Company, there would be some who may seek to sack the keep or take those that were inside hostage to get to him. His cousin was keener then to see him gone from the lands and he didn't have to wait for long for that to happen. The raven had come from his king and Jon read it with bated breath and then marched not a day later.

During his time in his family home he'd learned more and more about the events in the realm and what he heard had made him laugh, cry, and wish for vengeance even more so. The things that Tywin Lannister was capable of shocked even him. Though his Silver Prince had told him many years earlier what would happen should Tywin ever get too close to the throne he sought so avariciously. It had been after Duskendale and Aerys had been showing the first true signs that it was more than being a mercurial man that afflicted the King. He and Rhaegar had been sparring and with Ser Arthur busy elsewhere, it had been he that was confided in.

"I fear it's broken him, Jon. My father is not the man he once was. You heard what he said to Tywin?" Rhaegar asked and Jon shook his head "He said that Tywin wished him dead, that ever since he denied him my hand he'd sought his head."

"Perhaps he has, my prince." Jon said and Rhaegar shook his head.

"If Tywin wished my father dead then he'd have acted by now. Duskendale was my father's own folly, Jon. He should dismiss the man rather than provoke him so. For I tell you now that man may seem to accept my father's slight's, but I fear he's simply adding them up and one day he'll see to make us all pay for each and every one of them."

"Had your father but accepted the proposal." Jon said softly, hating the thoughts of his silver prince with anyone, most of all with Tywin Lannister's get.

"No, on that he was right, Jon. Even having his daughter as queen would not be the limit of Tywin Lannister's ambitions. Lions should be kept far from the throne, Jon, for not even dragons have eyes to look behind them all their lives and lions are ever hungry." Rhaegar said as he put his sword away.

As with most things, it turned out that that Rhaegar had the right of it. Tywin and his pride of lions had feasted on the Stag, the Wolves and soon they'd feast on the Roses too. Or they would if his king didn't wish to feast on them first. The march to Storm's End took days and was a tiring one. Jon listening to his men gripe about not liking these lands and he found it both annoying and amusing since each of them had so often wished to name lands like these their home. Though perhaps it was warmer lands they sought, the Reach and all its bounty, the Riverlands or even Dorne. Was he to wager it would be the West that most ended up in, the Rock, Lannisport, and keeps whose lords propped up the Old Lion to be the ones who lost the most when this war was done.

He sent his outriders out to forage and scout and found that while some battles had been fought, more and more keeps had simply surrendered once it was clear they weren't there to sack them or rape and kill those inside. Whether it was because they had fought and lost and were already broken or that Stannis Baratheon had abandoned these lands and taken most of its true warriors with him when he'd left, he cared not. The Stormlands were theirs, other than its largest keep and when he finally saw Storm's End come into view, he smiled.

It turned out he was the last of those sent out to arrive, Homeless Harry, having come straight here and besieged the keep without besieging it. Instead, he'd just gone through the mummery of a besieging, set the tents and pickets up as if he was doing so while offering to parley from the moment he'd arrived. Jon knew word would spread to Tywin in King's Landing, he knew that Varys would not be able to keep their arrival quiet and he wondered just what was going through the Eunuch's mind when he'd heard. This was not the plan that he or the fat Magister wished them to follow and he was surprised that the Eunuch had not gotten in touch by now. It was not a surprise he held onto for long, as it was simply he that Varys hadn't managed to contact.

"Griff, thank the fucking gods. Maybe you can talk some sense into that cowardly fuck." Old John Mudd said before he even managed to get down from his horse.

"What's he done now?" he asked exasperatedly.

"He wishes to negotiate with the Lannister's, Jon." Brendel Byrne said as he and some of the other men of the company made their way to him.

"Of all the…"

He stormed into the tent, passing by the pikes that bore the golden skulls of the previous and better Captain Generals. Inside he found Black Balaq, Gorys Edoren, Lysono Marr, and Homeless Harry himself.

"You wish to die, Harry? To find yourself face to face with a man with none?" he asked angrily.

"I only suggested…."

"Fuck you and your suggestions. We signed a contract or don't you fucking remember? Our word is as good as gold." he spat angrily.

"We already broke one contract, Griff." Harry said and Jon moved so quickly to him that the man didn't have a chance to react, that none stopped him showed he was in the right of it too.

"We aren't breaking this one. All that talk, all those fucking words spouted for all those years, Harry. They mean something, we follow the dragon and that's final, am I clear?"

"I'm…"

"A fucking craven who only serves because we will it so. Remember that and I swear it here and now, one more word about breaking this contract and I'll end you my fucking self." he said before he stormed from the tent.

He needed a drink, a rest, a wash, and maybe even something to eat. It was to be the first of them that he got and he was not alone when he sat down to drink the ale. Lysono, Balaq, Dick, and Will Cole, both Old and Young John Mudd's and some of the other Serjeants of the company soon joining him.

"It's good you came when you did, Griff." Lysono said handing him the note "From the Eunuch."

He nodded as he took it, opening it up to read it and he laughed when he did so.

Harry,

The time to fight is not at hand, the Lannisters are still too strong. However, there is room for a deal to be done. Make overtures and seek a parley. Once the lions let down their guard and think you true, then and only then would the time be right. I shall see you soon, my friend, give our king my best.

A friend.

Holding the note to the candle he watched it burn and took another swallow of the ale. Looking to the wine bottle that Balaq held in his hand, he nodded and was soon handed a glass filled with some of the best the Arbor had to offer, it was a pleasant taste, but he was no longer a man who got drunk or at least he'd promised himself he'd not do so until Daemon sat his throne.

"Can you get a letter to the Old Lion?" he asked and Lysono looked at him in surprise, only for his smile to show it was not what he thought.

"I can."

"Good, I'll write it out. I need to rest, tomorrow we take this keep and the day after we march." he said and around him, all those present nodded.

It took him some time to write the words out how he wished, the letter an invitation of sorts, but not to parley. He was pulling on the lion's tail, or he would be and as he slept that night he dreamt of silver hair and heard the sounds of a harp playing and the voice of a man he loved singing a song.

"This is the song of ice and fire, and one day you'll hear it for true." the silver shadow in his dreams said and Jon felt that day was coming ever closer.

King's Landing 300 AC.

Varys.

It was a strange feeling for him, to be so out of the know. For him to be taken so completely by surprise not once but twice, was something that had never happened before. True he wasn't all-knowing and over the years certain things had happened that he'd not known the truth about until they did, though they were few and far between. The disappearance of Lady Lyanna Stark and where Rhaegar had taken her during the war. Ned Stark's execution and the escapes of both the Stark girls. These though were minor inconveniences and affected his own plans, not a jot and so he'd not been irked too much by being in the dark.

A faceless man arriving in King's Landing to take down the Mountain and free Tyrion Lannister. An attack on the Twins and rescue of the prisoners held there and the death of its lord. Would that they were the only things that had happened that he had been unaware were in the works. The Golden Company arriving on Westeros's shores without him sending for them. That however had taken shocked him completely because that was not only unexpected, it was something he thought he had control over.

Why had they come now without being called?

What didn't he know?

Why didn't Illyrio contact him?

What was he to do?

Over the years he'd asked himself so many questions and had always found the answers easy to come by. For once he found them as elusive as he himself had always tried to be. He was in the dark and the dark for a man who knew everyone's secrets was not a place he dared to stay in for long. The first thing he did was to reach out to Illyrio, though it would take time for his goodbrother to reply. Once he'd done that he'd set his little birds to task and sent them to scour the Stormlands. He needed to speak to Homeless Harry and he needed to do so sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one aware of the Golden Company's landing. Varys hearing from his little birds in Chataya's of a Stormlands knight speaking of such and so he was left with no choice but to bring it to Tywin Lannister and the Small Council's attention. Much though he had hoped to keep such news from them for as long as he possibly could. The simple truth was that were he not to tell them about it and instead, they heard it elsewhere, then his own position and perhaps even his head would be in danger. Tywin Lannister was not a man who brooked failure or incompetence and he already considered him not knowing the truth about Daemon Rogare, as one or the other.

The reaction to the news was one he expected, one he feared somewhat and so the letter he had delivered to Homeless Harry preached caution. While Tywin and the Tyrells would fight against an invading army, both were always more likely to buy off their enemies rather than kill them off if they got a chance. Should the Golden Company accept an offer from the Lord of Casterly Rock, then Tywin would think them under his thumb. Which in turn would make it easier to stab him in the back. Yet he'd received no reply and he knew it was not here that he needed to be. It was the Stormlands where his presence was truly required, for his own peace of mind he needed to speak to Jon Connington, more than that he needed to see her son.

"Ah, Lord Varys, another meeting, hmmm. Wonder what this one is regarding." Mace Tyrell said and Varys resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Perhaps events in the Stormlands, my lord, or at the Twins." he said and he swore the look Mace gave him was one that truly showed the man to be the lackwit that everyone believed him to be.

"Oh yes, of course, of course." Mace blustered and Varys would have thanked the gods had he believed in them when he saw Tyrion was already present in the Small Council chambers.

"Lord Tyrell, Lord Varys." Tyrion said as they took their seats.

"Lord Tyrion." Mace said haughtily as the then looked around the Small Council chambers for what Varys knew not.

The other Lannisters arrived before he could speak to Tyrion. Tywin, Kevan, Jaime and Cersei, who were both following after their father and uncle. Pycelle for once moved quickly as he took his seat and Varys was surprised when Oberyn Martell then entered the room. The prince had not been invited to their first discussion about the Golden Company's arrival and as far as Varys knew, he knew not about that or about the events in the Twins. Something that he was proved right and wrong about, not more than a few moments later.

"Why was I not informed of this?" Oberyn asked angrily.

"Lord Varys was busy investigating the veracity of these reports, Prince Oberyn, there was a wish not to speak to you on them until we had confirmed they were true and not some ruse." Tyron answered for his father and Varys saw the small curl of Tywin's lips as he welcomed his son's words.

"A large force of men arrives in the Stormlands and you need to investigate the truth of it? What makes you think it is a lie? Who do you think gains from such subterfuge?" Oberyn asked with a smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Not all our enemies are dealt with, Prince Oberyn." Tywin said pointedly.

"As events at the Twins would point out." Oberyn said almost chuckling now and Varys saw how Tyrion looked to his father who was staring directly at Oberyn Martell.

Could it be Dorne?

Had they hired a Faceless Man?

No, he dismissed those thoughts almost as soon as they came to him. Were Dorne to hire a Faceless Man to gain their revenge it would make this room one that had far fewer people in it. While they may seek to make the Mountain pay, Varys was sure that Oberyn himself had wished to be the one to do so. As for the Twins, the only ones who had a true reason to see Walder Frey fall were the Starks and the Starks were all dead. No this was another player in the great game and it irked him that he knew not who it was.

"Dorne will ready its armies. The Golden Company rampaging through the Stormlands places them too close to our own borders and so by your leave, Lord Hand, and by his graces as well, I shall return to Sunspear and lead the army myself." Oberyn said and Varys cursed himself for getting lost in his thoughts.

"And will Dorne march or stay and protect its borders, Prince Oberyn?" Tywin asked pointedly.

"Dorne and I may have issues with you Lord Hand, but we are of Westeros too. We shall march and should your men join us in doing so, then we shall be the anvil to your hammer." Oberyn said and Varys swore he saw the beginnings of a smile on Tywin's face.

"Then our own army and the Reach's will meet in the Kingswood and march to face the Golden Company head-on. Lord Tyrell, see that your banners are called and that they answer most enthusiastically and with great haste." Tywin said glaring at Mace Tyrell who wilted under his gaze.

"As you command, Lord Hand."

"Pycelle, ravens are to be sent calling on all Leal houses to begin preparing to send men and supplies."

"At once, Lord Hand."

"Kevan, our own men." Tywin said to a nod from his brother "Lord Varys before we leave I want a full accounting of the strengths the Golden Company can bring to bear. A full list of all we know of them down to their leaders and the men who command each section of their forces, am I understood?"

"You are, Lord Hand. It shall be on your desk before night falls." he said and Tywin had already turned from him to speak to Jaime Lannister.

What was said to those who remained in the room when he and the others were bid to go about their takes he couldn't be completely sure of. Some of it he arrived to witness, some he had not. His space in the small hiding place that looked into the Small Council Chambers taking him some time to get to. He did find out the truth of the Old Lion's words as he watched him and Kevan speak in the Tower of the Hand later. Both brothers were to lead their armies out themselves and while Kevan brought up King's Landing and its defenses. Varys soon found out it was to Tyrion, Jaime, and Cersei Lannister that they were being left to.

After passing on a report that seemed full, barring one or two omissions that he felt he could get away with, he was dismissed from Tywin's presence later that night. The next few days were torturous, the lack of a reply from Homeless Harry, the lack of a word from Jon Connington about his nephew, all annoying him greatly. As he watched the Lannister and Reach armies form up, he shuddered. They would dwarf the Golden Company by at least two to one and with Dorne added, there to one. All his long-held plans would prove for naught if he didn't act now.

He knew he had no choice, it was not here that he needed to be. As soon as Tywin marched, he would leave this city and take a ship to the Stormlands. The one saving grace he had was that it would take time for Tywin to gather his full forces and that the Old Lion was too careful and practiced to march against a foe such as the Golden Company without them. It had been why he had planned for Tywin Lannister to be long dead before they and Aegon arrived on Westeros's shores. Why he'd planned so carefully and diligently for so many years and had bided his time until the time was right for them to attack. Something that now it was very much not.

When the little bird stepped into his room carrying a note he almost grabbed it from the girl such was his eagerness to read it. Seeing it was written in Illyrio's hand, he found himself even keener to get to the meat of the matter.

My friend,

The time has come, he is ready and the plans that were shared with me were sound. Forgive us for not informing you of them beforehand, but for once the mummery you may have wished to perform would not have been enough. Words have been sent to our friends in Sunspear, an offer that we are sure will be accepted. A queen for a king, my friend, and spears to go with our elephants. As for other strange events that may occur, it seems that we are not the only ones who wish to be thorns in the paws of lions. While I cannot be certain who took the contract out, I believe it to be a grieving father from Volantis, and should Twins cry out in the night, then you'll know it so.

For Serra.

Your friend.

For the first time since Tyrion's trial by combat, Varys found himself relaxed and content. So much so that he leaned back in his seat and poured himself a glass of wine. Rarely had he enjoyed it as much as he did right then, rarely had it tasted better. It tasted like…..victory, he thought with a titter that rang around the room.

Winterfell 300 AC.

Roose Bolton.

It was supposed to be much easier than this, the moves he made were meant to have brought him the entire North and not just some of it. Manderly and Reed hadn't answered the call which was understandable in the latter's case, the Crannogmen were an odd bunch after all. He needed the Fat Merman though as White Harbor was the main source of trade in the North. The Umbers had come and were represented by Hothar and he was grateful enough for their support as he was for his Goodfamily's, but he needed more.

The Mountain Clans, the Glovers, the Karstarks, the Mormonts, and the Hornwoods, he needed them all and what Ramsay had done to Lady Donella should it be found out would see him lose not only her house but others too. His bastard had done well and not at the same time, and his tendencies for cruelty would be his undoing. There was a time for such and a time when it was not needed and Ramsay had yet to learn which was which. It irked him as having a rabid dog at his beck and call was only useful when that dog did as it was bid. Something that Ramsay was starting to forget and needed to be reminded of.

With Stannis Baratheon now in the North they had other issues too and the loss of Arya Stark didn't help. Roose had sent out men to scour the lands to find her and was still unsure how she had been lost in the first place. He should never have ridden on ahead and he cursed his haste to reach Winterfell and see just how badly damaged Ramsay had left it. Were it not for that then the girl would have ridden with him rather than the smaller group of men he'd left her with. Fool that he was, he had believed that no one knew who he had in his party and so no one would attempt a rescue, and how they found out he knew not.

Walking around the large keep he felt both happy that it was finally his and annoyed by just how much damage Ramsay had done to it. The boy had no idea how to make the damage look worse than it was and had paid no mind to the fact that winter was coming. It would take a long time to restore it to what it was, moons and much coin and he feared he didn't have enough of either. Making his way to the keep itself, he saw his son and the thing that had once been Theon Greyjoy. Yet another example of Ramsay going too far and once again he cursed the gods for taking Domeric from him.

"A raven father from the Iron Throne." Ramsay said as he nodded to Reek to bring it to him.

Roose didn't look at the broken man as he handed it to him, though he did see the broken fingers and the skin that was missing from them. Opening it he read it quickly and had to a double-take as he did so. Should the Mountain arrive in the North then he was to be dealt with immediately. A reward of 100,000 Gold Dragons was offered for the man's head and he had no idea what to make of it. So much so that even later as he sat in the Great Hall and sipped on his hippocras, he still couldn't understand what was going on.

Had the Mountain turned on his master?

Had Tywin finally lost control of his own rabid dog?

Were the lions vulnerable and if so, what did that mean for him?

He gave his orders to his captains. Should the man be seen, then he was to be attacked and killed without hesitance. Though he and perhaps they wondered if that was even possible. It would take almost an army to take down the Mountain and again for the life of him, he couldn't understand what reason Tywin Lannister had for seeing it done. It took almost a week for the first inkling of what that reason was, to be revealed. Roose had just finished eating with the Freys when a message came from the Twins and was handed to him by Maester Wolkan.

Lord Bolton,

Strange and confusing events have occurred in the Twins over these last few days. My father is passed as are some other members of my family and household. He was murdered when he slept in the most gruesome way by a man who bore the face of the Mountain and yet was not him. The Mountain fell, my lord, he was killed in one on one combat as he stood as the Crown's champion against Daemon Rogare. Yet he not only graced our halls days later, but I spoke to the man myself. Be vigilant my lord, trust him not should he arrive in the North. For he is not who he seems, though I know not how that can be.

Lord Ryman Frey,

Lord of the Twins.

This made no sense, no sense at all. A man wearing the Mountain's face had killed Walder Frey, why? What reason could anyone have for doing so? Other than the North who would seek the old fool's death? And even was it to be someone in the North, then how had they done so? Who was Daemon Rogare and why would he seek to stand against the Mountain? Had he committed some crime against the crown and was defending himself in a trial by combat? What crime could he have committed that would force the Crown to send the Mountain against him? This all made no sense to him and he found no answers coming to mind.

For once he drank the hippocras in one swallow and cared not for the attention it brought him. He could see Barbrey Dustin looking at him curiously and speaking to her father who too looked his way. For the rest of the day, his mind was on a thousand things at once. Stannis at the Wall, events in the South, the Northern Lords who'd not answered his call, Ramsay and his habits, and Arya Stark perhaps most of all. When word came that one of his patrols had fallen, he felt his chest tighten and that it was one he'd sent after the girl showed she was now lost to him.

The plan to pass Jeyne Poole off as Arya Stark was dead and his grip on the North was loosening instead of tightening and for the first time since he'd decided on this course of actions, he was beginning to think it would not play out as he hoped. Enemies, Enemies, Everywhere and more than he could count. He looked to Ramsay and wondered if it was time to take the leash of his rabid dog. If it had now come to that and if it had, did this mean he was already lost? It was not a pleasant thought and it was one that kept him from sleeping for the next few days.

White Harbor 300 AC.

Asher Forrester.

The girl was terrified, relieved, and yet terrified. So far she'd not told him her name and he could understand that. Her eyes took every single thing in, every little movement made around her and she reminded him of an animal who believed themselves to be hunted. It was her screams that had diverted him and his men from their path, the sounds of panic as she called out for help that had brought him to her aid. It had cost twelve men their lives and thankfully none were his own.

Six that held her and six that had then rode after her and his men when they'd rescued her. That they were Bolton men made it all the better and he had left them to the elements and the animals to deal with it. The thought of wild wolves feeding on their corpses was one that he found most amusing, as soon it would be different wolves who did the same. When they saw White Harbor in front of them, he could see she was even more scared and so he moved to her and once again offered her what comfort he could.

"My lady, you are safe here, I swear it." he said and she looked at him with eyes that showed she believed him not.

Less than an hour later they were in the New Castle itself, shown to rooms where they'd not be seen or not have too many questions asked about them if they were. Getting her to give up her horse and walk with him to those rooms took some time. It was only when Lord Manderly arrived along with his granddaughters that she finally seemed to calm down and he found out her name and what her story was. It was a heart-wrenching one to be sure and he was glad that he'd saved her from whatever cruel fate awaited her.

"Jeyne? Jeyne is that you?" Wynafryd Manderly said as she moved close to the scared girl.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please I'll not run, I'll not run…." the girl, Jeyne, cried out and Asher moved to her only for Lord Manderly to shake his head.

"Jeyne, you have nothing to fear from me. Remember when last we saw each other, at Lady Sansa's nameday feast?" Wynafryd asked and Jeyne looked to her and nodded slightly "I named you a friend that night, you're my friend still, are you not?"

"I…"

"Jeyne, I swear it on the old gods and the new, you're safe here." Wynafryd said softly and he looked on in astonishment as the girl ran to her and hugged her tightly, the tears Jeyne spilled were far happier ones than she had up to now he'd wager.

Later that night when he spoke to Lord Wyman he was told the tale or as much of it as the Lord wished to tell. The girl was Jeyne Poole, the daughter of the Steward of House Stark and good friends with Lady Sansa Stark. She had joined the Starks when they went south and after the massacre in the Red Keep had been taken place, she was taken prisoner. Lord Wyman wouldn't say what was done to her, but his tone made it clear and so he had no need to. Yet it was what was to happen to her that Asher couldn't truly believe.

"She was gifted to Roose Bolton and was told to name herself Arya Stark and only Arya Stark." Wyman said and Asher looked at him confused.

"Why?"

"To marry to his bastard. With a wedding to Ned Stark's girl, the claim he has on the North would be legal. I believe Tywin Lannister saw it the same way which is why he married the Imp to Sansa Stark." Wyman said angrily.

"Those poor girls." he said softly and Wyman nodded "She told you this?" he asked after a moment.

"She told Wynafryd and Wylla some, the rest I figure out from this." Wyman said handing him a raven's scroll which he read eagerly.

"An invite to a wedding."

"Aye, to watch a mummery take place and swear fealty. It was not the only raven I received." Wyman said and as he read about the Mountain, Asher felt the smile form on his face.

The next day as he broke his fast, Jeyne came to see him wishing to thank him for his rescue. Something he told her she had no need to do. He promised that those who had hurt her would soon pay for all they'd done and whispered to her that Arya Stark was alive and well, and safe too. He was ready to leave by midday and would have ridden out the gates and back to the Mountains, were it not for the arrivals that soon came to his attention.

Firstly Ser Davos Seaworth came on behalf of Stannis Baratheon and so Asher stayed while the man treated with Lord Wyman. He found short shrift from the Lord of White Harbor who loudly told him that he knew no king but the King in the North whose name was Stark. Something the smuggler didn't much appreciate and he and the men with him were soon on their way. The next arrivals though soon had all of White Harbor in a tizzy and as he looked at the man and the way that Wyman Manderly greeted him, he could see why.

"Jon? Jon Umber? By the gods it is you." Wyman said rising from his seat and moving to the large man who stood by a younger more handsome one, though both men looked the worst for wear.

"Aye, it's me, Wyman. Now for the Old God's sake can you give me a damn Northern Ale." Jon Umber, the Greatjon as he was more widely known said and soon enough he was drinking and eating as was his companion.

"How, Jon?" Wyman asked once they were alone in his solar, Asher allowed in as he represented the Company of the Rose.

"A Targaryen, Jon, a fucking Targaryen who is also a wolf."

"Lyanna's boy." Wyman said and the Greatjon looked at him.

"You know of him?"

"I learned just recently, so tell me your tale, Jon and then I'll tell you one even finer. I think we'll need more ale though." Wyman said laughing loudly.

As he listened to both men speak, he couldn't be sure who won out in the tale stakes. The Greatjon telling of Daemon Targaryen wearing the Mountain's face and how Walder Frey and so many others were now dead and the man himself had business in the Vale to see to before he looked North. He told Wyman about the Golden Company which the Lord said he knew about, and then Wyman began to tell him his own tale.

How Wylis had been brought back to him and that the Company of the Rose was now back in the North. That he'd been told that Daemon was seeking to go to the Twins and that he would seek to free the prisoners there, but he'd not believed it would be possible. When he told the Greatjon that Arya Stark lived and was safe and well, Asher swore the man's grin would split his face. Then he listened as both men spoke of whether or not Daemon was true and how it was the Greatjon who said that he was.

"I met the lad, Wyman. Strange and confusing though he is at times. How he can do what he can, I know or care not. It's what he wishes to do that I care about and the vengeance and justice that he promises. Ask Ser Marq there if you think he cares any more than that and I wager he'll tell you the same as I, as for whether he is who he says he is, I believe him. We needs must speak to Howland, to be sure though." The Greatjon said and Wyman nodded.

"In time, Jon. What will you do from here?" Wyman asked.

"I need to speak to my uncles, to let them know I'm free. Then I wish to see the men of the Company of the Rose and find out if they wish for the giants to join them and set the North straight." The Greatjon said looking at him.

"Deepwood Motte, my lord, it's there that we intend to begin." Asher said and he saw the Greatjon and Wyman both nod in approval.

"Fucking Squids." the Greatjon spat.

Ser Marq sent a raven to his father and then asked to join them on their ride and The Greatjon was convinced to do the same to his uncle. The ride to Last Heath was far too dangerous to make as it took them through Bolton lands. Instead, it was to the Mountains that they rode and he didn't need to look at either of the men's faces to see how eager they were to be in the fight once more. On his belt, he carried a favor that had been given to him by Jeyne Poole and was he another man and this another time, then he may have thought more of the meaning of the gift. His heart though had not been his for a long time and he hoped when he saw her again that Gwyn still felt the same.

The Eyrie 300 AC.

Sansa Stark.

There was a time when she'd have been overjoyed by the prospect of the day that was ahead of her. A moment when she'd have cried upon seeing the beautiful wedding dress or smiled at the thoughts of marrying such a handsome man. Had all of this been presented to the girl who'd dreamt of marrying a handsome prince, then she'd have welcomed it with open arms. She was to be wed to the handsome heir of the Vale, to be his wife and given her cousin's condition, to one day rule over these lands by her husband's side.

She could in time use her newfound power to see her family avenged. To right the North and see the Bolton's and the Frey's pay for all they'd done to her house. At least in the Freys regard, someone had already seen fit to see them pay for her brother and mother's deaths. That in truth was the only reason that she'd worn a smile these last few days. It certainly wasn't because of the prospect of being Lady Hardyng. Nor was it the thoughts of laying with a man who looked at her so lustfully. Though she found his looks her way to be far more pleasant than the looks that Littlefinger shot her.

Perhaps that was the only true reason she could feel any joy this day. Soon she'd have a husband and that would keep whatever designs Littlefinger had for her body far away from ever being fulfilled. Turning from the looking glass she smiled at Myranda and looked to Ysilla. Both ladies were there to help her prepare for what was to come and both had been treating her very differently since the truth of who she was had been revealed.

"You look beautiful, Sansa, truly you do." Ysilla Royce said warmly "Doesn't she Randa?"

"She does, like the very maiden herself" Myranda Royce said and though Sansa felt she meant it, there was a little bite in those words too.

Myranda herself was anything but the maiden true and Sansa was sure she had designs on her husband to be. Given both her and Harry's reputations, she wouldn't be surprised to find out they'd already laid together at some point. With Harry's nature, she doubted she'd be the only one to share his bed even after they were wed either. Not that she cared. The more he sought his pleasure elsewhere the better she'd feel about it.

It was not that she was repulsed by him, nor that she didn't find him as handsome as others did. More it was knowing that she had no feelings for him whatsoever and that he had never stilled her heart. Something that even Joffrey had managed to do once. With a plastered smile on her face, she allowed both girls to ready the rest of her outfit for the day. Her eyes were drawn to the grey Direwolf patterns on the white maiden cloak and she bid herself not to cry when she looked at it. In her dreams, she would have been married in the Great Sept of Baelor and her father would have led her to her husband. Her family all looking on along with the great and the good of Westeros as she married her handsome prince and later became his queen.

Those dreams had all turned very quickly into her worst nightmares and not only had Joffrey turned out to be far from who she thought he was, but to the best of her knowledge, she was the last of her family. There were no more wolves other than she and she had never truly been one. It was a mournful and regretful thought and one her expression did little to hide. Thankfully neither of the two girls with her wished to speak upon what may have caused her upset. Both perhaps knowing that she was thinking of family and of those not here.

"How long to the ceremony?" she asked nervously when she was finally ready.

"An hour at most. Is Lord Baelish to give you away?" Myranda asked and Sansa nodded.

"He'll be a good husband, Sansa, father says he's curbed his worst impulses and that a man married is not the same as one who is not." Ysilla said, offering her reassurance that didn't have the effect she thought it did, Myranda's snort not helping in that regard.

Time seemed to drag on and on and then finally the knock came to the door and her friends left so that Littlefinger could speak to her alone. She could see the looks in his eyes that told her that he wished he was the one waiting in the Sept for her and she tried not to shudder when he kissed her cheek and offered her his arm.

"You look a delight, Sansa, an absolute delight. Even the happiest of married men would look your way and feel unlucky not to be the man you wed." Littlefinger said as they walked and she knew he was speaking of himself more than any and that he was anything but the happiest of married men.

"I thank you, my lord. For everything." she said, though she wasn't sure she truly did.

"You're most welcome, Sansa, most welcome. Once you're wed we can begin our plans to see your home returned. To see you as the Lady of Winterfell once more." he whispered so only she could hear and she nodded, knowing he saw himself perhaps as the Lord to her Lady and were she thinking more clearly, then she'd perhaps have wondered how he planned to accomplish such.

When they reached the Sept they stopped and he kissed her cheek once again before leading her to where Harry stood waiting. Once again she was almost taken by the image in front of her. The handsome man, his smiling face, the happy looks on all those present. It was almost a dream and yet she was sure just like with Joffrey, this too would end up being a nightmare. Just one of a different sort.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day until my last day." she said, and then she felt his lips on hers and she was surprised at the small shudder she felt and confused that she was disappointed when the kiss ended.

When he offered her his arm, she took it, and together they walked out of the Sept and into the Great Hall of the Eyrie. Both of them looking directly ahead and soon enough she was being helped into her seat and the feast began. Despite herself, she found she quite enjoyed it and when the dancing began she accepted his hand eagerly. Only once they began to dance and she caught the looks that Littlefinger was shooting their way did she wonder if she was smiling too much. Why she was doing so, she had no idea, but when she saw the expression on Littlfinger's face, she sent him a truer smile in return.

It took him aback for a moment and then she swore the smile she saw was the first true one she'd ever seen him wear and she wondered if that was something she should really be aiming for. Her nervousness, how her posture stiffened was noticed and commented upon by Harry and she did her best to reassure him that nothing was amiss. Their dancing soon came to an end and she was unsurprised to find Littlefinger awaiting his turn. No sooner had the begun to move than he asked her how happy she was and she told him that while she was, she was not at the same time. That she knew what she must do and had learned her lessons well.

"What lessons, Sansa?" he asked curiously.

"That to bring Harry close, I must be what he believes me to be, even if I'm not." she said and he moved her head so he was looking directly into her eyes.

"What you are not?"

"In love with him." she said and his eyes sparkled at her words.

"Very good, Sansa, very good." he said softly and as the dance ended she felt his lips on her cheek once more and knew they wished to be on her lips instead.

The bedding ceremony was horrible, her clothes were torn from her and while Littlefinger played no part, she knew he had drunk in her nakedness with his eyes. As had some of the other lords and knights that were present. Sansa hearing them say how Harry was a lucky man and how they wished to be the one that took her maidenhead themselves. By the time she reached the room she was far happier that she was away from them than she was worried about what was to come next. Only Harry entering naked a few moments later making her even think about any of that.

"My lord." she said softly from beneath her covers.

"My lady." he replied and she looked on confused as he moved to a table and began dressing once more, more so when he handed her what looked to be men's clothing.

"My lord?"

"For the next few moments, I need you to join with me and cry out in pleasure, Lady Sansa. Can you do that for me?" he asked and she looked at him confused "Trust me it's needed."

As confused as she was, she did as he bid, calling out his name as he did hers. She gasped loudly when he bid her to, called out to the Old Gods and the New when he told her to, and tried not to laugh as he said her name over and over again while sitting on the bed and bouncing up and down.

"Sansa. Oh, Gods, Sansa, I'm so close, so AHHHHHHHhh."

With her hand on her mouth to stop her laughing, she then quickly dressed in the clothing he gave her and watched him take a sheet and spill what looked to be blood on it. Then he moved to the door and opened it and she saw the men outside. A large group of them that all looked to her as she lay in the bed and pretended to be sleepy.

"The lady is a maiden no more." Harry said to loud cheers "Now if you'd kindly give my wife time to recover. For I mean to plow her field many more times before the night is done."

They were strange words and had he simply said them when he arrived in her room, they'd have terrified her. Yet he'd not touched her and was performing a mummery of sorts and she found that she had a need to know why.

"What's going on Harry?" she asked as he stood at the door with his ear to it, only turning to move to her once he was happy with whatever he heard.

"You needs must be ready when I return, Lady Sansa. The time is almost upon us to take you back to your home and these people here mean you ill." Harry said.

"What people?" she asked worriedly.

"Lord Baelish and Lady Lysa." Harry said and she nodded, knowing now that he at least spoke true.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked suspiciously.

"When we're safe and away from here I'll answer any question you wish to ask of me. All I can say is that I'm a friend of House Stark and your sister Arya is safe and shall soon be by your side again."

"Arya." she said wistfully "Truly my sister is safe?"

"I swear it on the Old Gods and the New. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. I too am pack Lady Sansa and you are no longer a lone wolf." Harry said confusing her some more before leaving the room.

She found she didn't know what to do or what to think. Could this be a trap of sorts? A game that Littlefinger had initiated to prove her true? What would happen to her if it was and she failed or proved herself false. A part of her almost wished to run to her aunt's rooms and to tell her and Littlefinger that she was with them and on their side. Harry's words rang truer though. Her aunt and Littlefinger wished her ill, she knew that was true. Arya, Arya was alive and she could be taken to her, she could see her again and tell her how sorry she was for everything.

She'd not be alone, not be a lone wolf, and would be with the pack once more. How she had longed for such for so very long and so it was that and the belief that Harry was not steering her wrong that she accepted. The idea that he had no true reason to and were he as terrible as she believed him to be, then would he not have lain with her and taken his pleasure from her? Especially when she was in no position to deny him. No there was more going on here than she understood and the chance to be free from those who would hurt or use her was too good of one to resist.

It was hours later when he returned and before she knew it he was leading her through the keep and to where horses awaited. The trek down the mountain pass was illuminated by a full moon and yet it was his hand that led her and the horses across the uneven rocky path. Never once did he falter or need to look where he was going and she swore they reached the end of it far quicker than she'd have believed possible. By early the next morning they had passed through Sky, Snow, and Stone, the three waycastles, and it was only at the last of them that they'd mounted the horses.

They rode hard that day and camped later that night. Sansa finding that she quite enjoyed the freedom of the open road and as they sat down to eat the rabbit that Harry caught, she ate it hungrily. She even enjoyed the wine which was not something she partook of much and found the fire to be soothing too.

"Will you tell me it all now?" she asked nervously and he nodded.

"Be not alarmed by what you see. Lady Sansa. It will shock you, but I give you my oath that all I've said to you has been true." he said and she looked as he turned away from her and then turned back and was now wearing another face.

She scurried away from him, yet he never took a step towards her and let her get used to what she was seeing. His hair was as dark as a raven's feathers, his eyes a grey she'd not seen before. There was something familiar and yet not about him and it took her some time to see that he reminded her of her father, her uncle, and even Arya.

Had he Stark blood in his veins?

"Was he somehow her kin?

"If so, then how?

What did he wish from her?

The questions rattled around in her head and yet in the end it was only one that she asked.

"Who are you?" she said moving slightly closer to him.

"I am your cousin, Sansa. Your aunt's son. My name is Daemon Targaryen and I will take you home." he said and as she looked at him she felt it deep in her heart that the words he spoke were true.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I had intended to have this out much earlier but life interfered. Up next Sansa finds out the truth about Daemon and about his plans as we take another look into his time in Essos. Stannis readies to march and men of the Company of the Rose land on Skagos seeking a lost wolf. Oberyn arrives in Dorne to find two letters awaiting him and he and Doran make a decision that affects the war. While Jon Connington makes a change to the leadership of the Golden Company and receives a visit from a Eunuch.

For those who read my other stories, the next update will be Am I my brother's keeper on Monday, followed by Live as a Wolf and Aemon the Dragonknight next week.

Daryl Dixon: Your wish if my command.

Uncle Dork: Glad you liked it.

Celexys: Arya is about one chapter away from being back in Westeros, really glad you enjoyed this.

Osterricher: I think and I've said this before, Rhaegar and Lyanna can be all things to all men. How much they're responsible for the events that took place is debatable. They are the spark that lit the flame, but the fire had already been set and may have caught no matter what. As bad as Rhaegar and Lyanna running off together or even if he kidnapped her, once Brandon demands he come out and die, he'd dead. No one can then imagine the Mad King going as far as he did, but Brandon signs his death warrant with how he acted. So they're the spark, whichever way the relationship happened, but the fire itself was built long before then.

In regards to the bastard thing, I never understood why anyone gets caught up on that aspect. Let's say the marriage if there was one isn't accepted as true, it matters not. Other than Dany/Vis, no one has a strong blood claim for the throne than Jon even if he is a bastard. His claim supersedes Robert's and at the end of the day, it really doesn't matter as just like Dany, Vis, Aegon if he was proved to be real, he still needs to win the throne to take it. When it comes to the loyalists, they'll back a bastard son of Rhaegar over pretty much 99.9 percent of the other claimants, unless Aegon was true. Viserys would garner no support once he was seen and Dany is still a woman, true or not, Jon would be more palatable to the Lords of Westeros.

We'll see about Lysa/LF in a bit, suffice to say that Sansa become his priority here.

Victoria: Thank you, my friend. As you know from my other stories I find the changes to Jon's upbringing always change his personality. As much as he is how he is because of his nature, it's clear that his nurturing left a lot to be desired. Here he was raised differently and never had to face the stain of being someone's bastard or was never put down for it. I'm not sure how the dragons will be incorporated here, as of yet. But we will definitely be seeing Ghost, Jon without Ghost is just wrong.

Leonel: Tywin has dealt with the sparrows, he would never allow them to grow so strong and so as soon as Cersei involved them he acted. Lysa/LF bough themselves a stay of execution here based on Sansa's rescue.

Supremus: Have I really said anything about Ned here that's not true? I mean no one is really bashing him they're just speaking about him. He actually hasn't done much wrong here in regards to Jon and so Jon cares little about him. But he still makes mistakes that need to be addressed.

Raf: Thanks so very much for saying that, I hope you like what's to come.

Call me Author Boy: Lyanna's list and the reasons for it will be addressed. We'll see her making it and what prompted her to do so in an upcoming flashback to her time at the Tower of Joy.

The Sphynx: Love that you thought of one halfway through, awesome as always.

Sibeal: I do have some more twists to come, I hope.

Guest: Sorry for the delays, life can suck at times. I've not fully decided on the dragons here, whether or not to have them pop up early or late, there will be some, but because of certain changes, how they are used I need to decide.

Guest: In what way is the dialogue exhausting? I ask because I'm genuinely curious and any way I can improve certain aspects of things is something I look forward to. Glad you like the rest of it.

Nagiten: Thanks for saying so. There are so many ways to change things within the confines of the same situation in the universe of ASOIAf, it's what keeps bringing me back to it. A change here or there and while we get the same characters and even some of the same events, the story itself can feel fresh or different. So I'm glad you enjoy those aspects of things. I do have different plans for Arya here and we'll see her come back to Westeros soon enough. I agree sometimes GRRM creates this incredible piece of lore, such as the Company of the Rose, then does nothing with it. I mean a Northern sells sword company founded by Brandon Snow, there is so much potential there.

It is funny though isn't it, those not mentioned or shown in the show actually got a better fate than those who were.

The Lion was who was growing weaker, one of his main bannermen, and most dangerous weapons being taken out would make people look at Tywin differently. Personally, with Sansa, I feel just before Blackwater is the perfect time, but before Lysa tries to kill her and LF kills Lysa and certainly before Ramsay is another moment for her. As you see they traveled together and Greatjon is now ready to wage war in the North. Some arse-kicking coming up.

Qwerty: LF survives another day, Sansa was unexpected for Daemon and so he went with getting her out first.

Dunk: We'll see how he gathered the Company and more of his adventures in Essos in a couple of chapters, Dany too for the first time. As you see no way that Tywin leaves the GC that close to him, so yep, he's heading to deal with them. Arya is to come back in a chapter or two so who knows when it comes to Ramsay, as for the COTR, they'll be going for squids first.

Guest: Without spoiling too much, Ghost will pop up when Daemon goes north. I love Arthur but it just can't work with him living in this context.

Iacopo: Tywin potrebbe pensare di correre verso la vittoria, vedremo se lo farà o no. Ho un'interessante interpretazione della profezia di Valonquar per questo. Tutti i debiti saranno presto pagati.

Lady Octarina: No he hasn't met Arya yet, while Jaqen was with Arya, Daemon was elsewhere. You're right Marq is so on Daemon's side lol. We'll see more of the Wall as we go, I think most of it goes how we fear it would, Stannis still does well Stannis stuff, the biggest question for me is actually what happens when he leaves.

I like to think that he was unaware of Rickard/Brandon until Ser Gerold arrived. I can't see him staying there once he found out what his father had done. It just doesn't make sense which is why I don't buy the whole idea that he kept it from Lyanna and held her against her will once she found out. I think honestly, Gerold arrived, told him the world had gone to shit. Ordered him to come back to Kl as per his father's wishes and by then Lyanna was pregnant and unable to travel. I think logically that makes more sense than holding her as a prisoner.

I do wonder how Gerold knew where he was though, which kind of suggests to me that Elia told him. But I could be wrong on that. As for how obsessed he was by prophecy, again I think those who hate Rhaegar make him out to be completely so, those who don't change it somewhat. I think I do like the more romantic version of the story, but as a fic writer in time I'll do the far less romantic version and go with a more hateful Rhaegar. I kind of did in TDP, but even more so at some stage in the future.

Jessicanightmarewolf: I think the Romanic fairytale turning bad is an interesting setting and it shows the world as being this cruel place far more than an evil Rhaegar does. Though given how much GRRM likes to see women suffer in ASOIAF, I could so see him going the other way. In time I'll do it when it suit's the narrative I want to push, but until then this works better.

We'll see Dany/Daemon's meeting in a little bit, all I'll say is it has only happened in the last couple of years, so between when we first see her in the books to where she would be now. Daemon planned this out and being an assassin has helped in that regard, he's looked at it how he would taking down a target. So the GC and COTR are simply tools to get the job done, the same as a knife or poison would be. Daemon killed fAegon, the silver-haired face that he wears is his. I also have to do a Bfyre/Targ same side story someday.

The FM are like the Mounties, they always get their man.

Adamcoyne: While I'm not happy you criticized my other fics (just kidding lol) I'm glad you liked this one and in some of the others I've been learning as I go.

Xan Merrick: Thanks my friend, glad you liked it.

Fangtasia: She did and we'll find out the why and how of it in a future Flashback to the Tower of Joy.

Scariilla: I understand that, I'm not a big fan of Jon and Sansa either, but I wished to write one and one where they don't know each other is where it works best I think.