The Vale 300 AC.
Sansa.
She felt fearful and nervous as they got closer to the Bloody Gate. The thoughts that they'd not be able to pass through it and that word had reached Littlefinger of her escape only added to her fears. Yet Daemon seemed so confident and so assured that she let that be what guided her. Her hair was tied up and dirtied, looking red but not as red as it truly was and she so wished to wash the dirt from it as soon as possible. The clothing she wore only added to the look. As did the dirt on her cheeks and while beside her Daemon was far cleaner, the mummery she knew demanded it of her.
When the guards moved to ask them who they were and why they sought to pass through the gate, she felt her heart race. Daemon identified himself as Ser Daemon Uller from Dorne and that he and his squire had been refused leave to participate in the tourney to celebrate the wedding of Lady Sansa and Ser Harrold, and so they were leaving and heading to somewhere where a Dornish knight may find a more friendly welcome. He spoke with just the right amount of bitterness and annoyance to show he was who he said he was and even though she knew it was a mummery, she almost found herself believing him too.
"These roads aren't too friendly at night Ser Daemon and it's getting late. Mayhap it's for the best if you stay and accept our hospitality for the night and leave on the morrow." the guard suggested.
"Would that I could. I hear tale of a tourney in King's Landing and so we must make haste, for I come in search of coin and renown and am leaving with neither." Daemon said and the guard nodded before looking to her.
Sansa tried not to breathe too deeply as she felt the guard's eyes look her over and then she tried not to let the breath out when he turned back to Daemon. It wasn't until they were through the Bloody Gate itself that she felt relaxed enough to do so and when Daemon bid her ride hard, she complied. They camped by a stream and Daemon once again caught a rabbit for them to eat. Though he had caught a small bird too which he allowed her to have for her meal as well.
She'd been allowed to wash her hair and face and felt somewhat clean again, though she wished for a bath more than almost anything in the world. As she sat and ate, her thoughts soon turned to Arya and she found a smile quickly coming to her face as they did so. Her sister would no doubt have loved all that Sansa had done over the past few days. Escaping from the Eyrie, dressing as a boy, and playing out a mummery on guards while riding hard and being covered in dirt and grime. It made her long to see her again and to speak about her and so looking to Daemon she asked him once again to tell her everything.
"My sister, Daemon, how is she safe?" Sansa asked as Daemon threw more wood on the fire.
"Your sister was held in Harrenhal, Sansa. How she ended up there I know not only that it was there my friend found her. What know you of the keep and who held it?"
"I…House Whent were its lords but I know that Lord Baelish was named so after Lady Shella passed." she said and looking to Daemon she saw a brief look of sadness come over his face.
"You know that you're family has a claim on it and its lands?" Daemon asked and she shook her head not having been aware of such "Your grandmother was a Whent, Sansa, your mother's mother and so I'd wager that you perhaps have the truest claim to Harrenhal and all its lands."
She looked over at him and felt he was speaking the truth once again, how and why she felt so certain that he was telling the truth she couldn't quite tell, only that for once she felt there was no game being played with her. Whatever Daemon's true intentions were she felt that they at the very least allied with her own and given all that had happened, that was perhaps enough for now.
"During the War of the Five Kings, the Lannisters took the keep and The Mountain along with the Brave Companions used it as their base. From there they moved out through the Riverlands and caused their own particular brand of chaos and carnage and whatever prisoners that were unlucky enough to not fall right away, ended up there." Daemon continued and she felt her breath quicken and her heart beginning to race.
"Arya, did they….was she hurt….did they…" she asked not able to fully speak the words.
"I believe she suffered somewhat, though less than most, yet I know not for certain. What I can say is that my friend saw to her rescue and along with some friends she'd made and Ser Wylis Manderly, he brought them to Braavos where she's been for the past year or so."
"You've seen her?" she asked and Daemon shook his head "Then how can you know she's safe for true?"
"Arya has been staying at the House of Black and White. There is no place safer in this world for her than there as none can or would seek to attack for fear of angering the Faceless Men." he said and she shuddered as he spoke those words.
"Men like you?" she asked and he nodded and she so wished to ask even more about who and what he was and yet it was Arya's safety and the thoughts of seeing her once again that was most prevalent in her thoughts and words.
"You said I'd see my sister soon, How? Where?"
"We'll join up with her in a little while. Her ship has already left Braavos and soon she'll arrive and be brought to join up with the rest of my men."
"Your men?"
"The Golden Company." Daemon said and she looked at him in complete confusion.
"I don't understand any of this, Faceless Men, Golden Company, you helping me and naming yourself as my cousin. A cousin I've never heard of or been aware of." her frustration and annoyance at how little she did understand was clear in her tone and something that Daemon seemed to recognize as he looked at her more sympathetically.
"I know how hard it must be to accept my words. That you've not just run off into the night or snuck away as I slept shows that you're a far stronger lady than most may have named you. When I first found the truth about who I was, I almost ran myself." Daemon sighed.
"You did?"
"I did. I'd known but one life and had never questioned it and then I found out I had this whole past and history that had been kept hidden from me. It took some getting used to and by the time I had and had made my plans and done what was needed to see them through, I'd missed so much."
"I don't understand." she said and hated she was saying so again.
"Had I learned the truth of myself earlier, then your father, brother, your mother may live still. You and your sister would not have suffered so and I beg your forgiveness that I was not able to be here for them or for you."
"Our fate was sealed the moment we left Winterfell." she said bitterly and Daemon rose to his feet and walked over to her, his hand reaching down and brushing away a tear that had fallen down her cheek.
"We make our own fate, Sansa. I can't bring your family back from the dead but I can make those who played a part in their deaths or their suffering pay. Walder Frey and some of his kin have already learned so to their cost. As has Joffrey Waters and soon enough so will the rest of those responsible. Winter is coming, those are your house words are they not?"
"Aye, they are." she said trying not to lean into his hand as it lingered on her face.
"It is coming, Sansa, and I am coming with it."
She slept that night and her dreams were troubled as she saw her father, mother, Robb, Bran, and Rickon, all of them dead or so she believed. The sobbing she woke up to was her own and she welcomed the feel of Daemon's arms as they wrapped around her and his words as he spoke them softly into her ears. The feel of his hand stroking her hair and of him pushing up tightly against her was comforting and she fell asleep to him telling her that she was safe, that no one would hurt her again, and that together they'd make them all pay.
When she woke the next morning it was to the smell of fish being cooked and she felt her stomach rumble as she sat up. She offered Daemon a smile and thanked him for speaking to her and helping her sleep, then she ate the fish hungrily and they mounted up and rode for the rest of the day. How she knew they'd left Vale was beyond her, but soon enough they reached a village and she could see the damage the war had left upon it.
"Should we stay here?" she asked and Daemon nodded, guiding her to stables where the horses were to be looked after and to a tavern where she believed she may actually get a warm bath.
They ate at a table that night, warm food and though it wasn't anything special, she enjoyed it greatly. As she did the soft bed she slept in and even though she'd offered to allow Daemon to lay beside her, he'd shook his head and lay in a chair instead. Once again her dreams were troubled and once again she woke up crying in the night. Just like the night before he held her in his arms and soothed her wounded heart and as she fell to sleep, he kissed her softly on the forehead and she found she almost wished he'd kissed her somewhere else instead.
The Riverlands 300 AC.
Daemon.
His cousin was a strange mixture of almost two halves and it belied the words he'd heard speak of her when in King's Landing. There he'd heard her named a soft, weak, and naïve young girl who was easily controlled, and there were certainly elements of that within her. Yet there was something else there too, a spirit, resolve, perhaps even a strength that had not yet been tapped into and if it could be then Sansa Stark would be formidable.
There were ways he could manipulate her into tapping into that side of herself and yet he felt that she'd been manipulated enough. Not to mention that should she let loose the wolf inside her by her own means, it would serve her well when he and she finally parted. Thoughts of which seemed less appealing to him than he'd expected, as the more time he spent with her, the more time he wished to. Even now watching her as she slept and looking at the way her brow would crease or she'd get a small little smile on her face when she dreamt of something pleasant, brought him a comfort he'd felt rarely.
When she stiffened and cried out, his arms now went around her far more quickly than they once had, and seeing and feeling her relax into them, almost made him proud he could soothe her so. Once he knew she was truly asleep he moved away from her and once again checked their surroundings to make sure they were truly secure. They'd left the tavern two days ago and now traveled through country that was held by the Lannisters and their allies. Were he alone, then he'd have felt no fear doing so, but with Sansa with him, it was much different. There was a reason why the Faceless Men rarely if ever worked in pairs and even with his training he wasn't certain he could dispatch any enemy and protect his cousin at the same time.
The night before she'd asked him about the fact he was her cousin and though she'd not named him a liar for the things he said about his mother and father, it was clear she didn't truly believe the full story either. She did believe he was his mother's son and that Rhaegar was his father, just not so much that his father and mother had loved one another and that there was no kidnapping. Her own father's lack of words about his mother and the stories she'd heard all her life, for now trumping his own. When she'd asked him about the House of Black and White and what it was like being a Faceless Man, it had been altogether different. Each word he said on those subjects was taken without any doubt whatsoever.
"Why did they take you from the tower?" Sansa asked after they'd eaten.
"My fate required it of them. Had I been left there I'd have grown much differently and wouldn't be able to play my part."
"Your part?"
"In what's to come."
"The fight against the Lannisters." Sansa stated and Daemon didn't contradict her, though he was sure that was only part of why the Faceless Men had taken him from the tower "Mayhap if they'd not taken you we'd have met before now." Sansa added, almost happily.
"Mayhap. Though again it's probably for the best we did not." he said and though he disliked the small frown that appeared on her face, he knew he was speaking true.
"You said you couldn't come to Westeros earlier, why was that?"
"I had much to do in Essos. While I could have come alone and taken care of the Lannisters and others, there was a chance I'd fail and I couldn't take that risk. So I needed allies for the war in the South and then later for the war in the North."
"The Golden Company?" Sansa asked.
"And the Company of the Rose." he said as Sansa looked at him curiously.
"I've not heard of them."
"They were formed by Brandon Snow after Torrhen Stark knelt to Aegon the Conqueror. They vowed not to come back to Westeros unless the North was in such dire peril that a son of Stark called for their aid."
"And you called?" she asked looking at him eagerly.
"And I called." he said smiling softly at her.
There had been more to it than that, much more. It wasn't as simple as just calling and they'd tested him thoroughly before they even considered it. That he hadn't been certain of why he was calling them hadn't made it any easier. Though he'd have preferred that to the news that had come to them before they'd been ready to leave. Finding out that war had already broken out and the North was fighting, only to then later find out that the North had fallen had been a shock to all of them, him included.
"Morning." he heard her voice call out and it took him from his thoughts.
"Morning, you hungry?" he asked and she nodded and so he handed her the bowl of warmed up stew along with some bread to break her fast.
"How much further?"
"Two maybe three days if I'm right, four or five if I'm wrong."
"And Arya will be there?" she asked worriedly.
"She'll be there."
He watched as she ate the stew, almost chuckling at how delicately she did so. Even with how she dipped the bread into the bowl she did it in such a ladylike way that made it interesting to see. They were alone, no one was here to tell her that she shouldn't act so ladylike or that there was no need to do so and yet it seemed it was who she was. After she'd finished eating, he helped her mount the horse and they set about the day's ride once again. They'd not gone more than a few miles when she began to ask him questions, some he had ready answers to, some he wasn't ready to speak on just yet.
When she asked him about his life up to then and about his training, he spoke only in generalities. Telling her simply that he'd been trained for as long as he could remember and that yes he had killed people long before he came to Westeros. He was surprised that she didn't seem upset or worried by this, though perhaps a killer was who she needed right now. It was when she asked about her family and what he knew about them that the conversation really flowed.
"I spent most of my life believing I was alone in the world. That I had no family. Most of those at the House of the Black and White believe the same, even if they had a family before coming there, once there they set them aside. We have to become No One before we become a Faceless Man." he said as she looked at him curiously "For me that was easier than most as like I said, I believed myself alone. Then a little over two years ago, I found I was very much not."
"They told you who you were?" she asked and he nodded.
"They did. They told me of my mother, father, my brother, sister, and what had happened to them. I was given proof of who I was, shown the evidence, and told a tale that I'll not speak of much to you now as we've spoken of it before. Then I was told that I had family left in this world, family who'd need my help."
"The Starks." she said and he shook his head.
"Not only, I have another family too. An aunt who unlike me wasn't unknown and protected. There was a mummer too, a boy pretending to be my brother and who was to be used to do the things that I now must. Though he lives no more." he said without emotion and could feel her eyes on him though she didn't ask the question that was no doubt on the tip of her tongue.
"Did you seek your aunt out?" Sansa asked surprising him.
"I did. Dany is…..Dany is where she wishes to be." he said softly before adding "It was after that, that I knew what I needed to do. So I sought the aid I'd require to see my family avenged and our rightful place on the throne returned to us. I had thought…..I…"
"Daemon?"
"I thought I had more time. Had I known, had I been aware that I had not…I'd have come back sooner."
"You couldn't have known, I was here and I knew not. My father could never have expected what was to come and even had you come earlier, would it truly have made a difference?" her words didn't offer the comfort she wished them to, though he welcomed them all the same.
"Mayhap not." he said not wishing to pull on the thread too much.
"Can you truly beat them.?" Sansa asked after some moments of quiet and Daemon looked at her, his eyes filled with determination and free of doubt.
"I will beat them, Sansa. No matter what I need to do to see it done." he said and as they rode he could see the smile she wore on her face was true.
Dorne 300 AC.
Oberyn.
He had left King's Landing at the first opportunity once he'd heard about the Golden Company, thankful for the opportunity to do so. After what had happened with the Mountain and Daemon and given what he'd said to him that let him know this was far from the end of his plans with the Lannisters, Oberyn had become more certain that being in the Lion's Den was not where he was meant to be. Once the news had come about the events at the Twins, he was even more sure of things.
Daemon had not only seen to the Mountain's death to avenge one side of his family, but he'd also gone to see that the Starks too had been avenged and had left the Twins in chaos and with far fewer Freys than had been there when he arrived. Oberyn hadn't needed to be in Tywin's presence when he'd found out that a Faceless Man was running rampant through the lands that he believed he had dominion over. Though he would have liked to hear what some of his Lords thought about the idea of going up against one.
As for the Golden Company, their arrival was too much of a coincidence for them not to be involved with Daemon in some way and since he and they were then the enemies of his enemy, that made them allies, did it not? He believed it did and believed that Doran would see it the same way as he did. Dorne and the Golden Company, Tywin believing them to be on his side, opportunities like this rarely came along and none had truly done so since his sister and her children's deaths.
The Young Wolf may have won some victories, but Doran had been proved right in the end, he had been no match for Tywin Lannister. Had Dorne allied with him as Oberyn wished them to do, then they'd have suffered greatly and perhaps have fallen just as far as the North has. It was a sobering thought and he hoped his brother's natural cautiousness didn't lead him to seek them to sit this war out too. As he stood on the deck of his ship, he looked to the familiar coastline and smiled as Sunspear came into view. Turning from the bow, he made his way back below deck to ready for their departure and the ride to the Water Gardens that he would undertake immediately.
"You left me alone." Ellaria accused as he walked into their cabin.
"You looked so peaceful sleeping, my love." he replied as he kissed her cheek.
"We have arrived?" she asked as she rose from the bed and began to get dressed.
"An hour or so more and we'll have docked."
"And you are still riding straight to the Water Gardens?" her words muffled as she pulled her dress over her head.
"I needs must speak to Doran, sooner rather than later. If we're to march and arrive at our best effect it must be done within the week."
"Can the army be raised that quickly?" Ellaria asked, having now dressed far more quickly than even he would have been able to and yet looking as if she'd spent an age making herself presentable.
"Knowing my brother, the banners have been called to secure the borders by now. Thoughts of the Golden Company at our gates and what that could mean were not lies when I spoke them to Tywin Lannister, though knowing who they serve changes things."
"You're certain they and Daemon are allied?" she asked worriedly.
"I am." he said as he kissed her cheek.
They were welcomed by Arianne who told him that a letter had arrived for Doran brought by men from Essos, a letter she'd not been made privy to its contents. As he had told Ellaria, the banners had been called and an army of a little over half their available men was gathering near Wyl at the Boneway. His own ravens to Doran and to his niece had seen the need for their borders to be defended just as he had known they would. Arianne was curious as to why he seemed more excited than fearful. His niece was then keener to learn more when he spoke about the Mountain and the Freys demise, but Oberyn had a need to be elsewhere and so it was left to Ellaria to speak to her of Daemon Targaryen.
He and his girls, along with their guards rode hard to the Water Gardens and arrived just before dusk. Oberyn wasted little time on pleasantries and though it pained him somewhat to forgo greeting his youngest girls, he sent their sisters to them instead. For now, it was his brother that he needed to see and speak to. That he found Doran in his solar going over maps and making notes was no surprise, that he was already planning out attacks and battles with the Lannisters and the Tyrells, however, very much was.
"Thank the gods." Doran said when he saw him enter the room, Areo Hotah was as always standing close by his brother, the tall Norvosi never more than a spear's length away when Doran had company.
"I come bringing news, brother, welcome news or so I believe it to be."
"Of our nephew." Doran said happily which confused him
"Nephew?" he asked.
"Aegon lives, brother, here read." Doran said and Oberyn almost grabbed the letter from his brother's hands.
Prince Doran,
My name is Illyrio Mopatis and I've wished to write this letter for more years than I can count. I bring you great tidings, news that I believe will be welcomed and I beg your forgiveness for not bringing you this news before now. The fault in that is mine own and yet it was a necessary one. For had the truth outed before we were ready, all would have been lost. Your nephew lives, my prince. Aegon Lives. Before the atrocity that was committed at the Red Keep could claim his life, your brave and noble sister Princess Elia saw to Aegon's rescue. Alas, it was not possible for her or her daughter to join Aegon as he was spirited away. As they were both too well recognized while Aegon was but a babe and one babe looks much like any other, even to discerning eyes.
For five and ten years I've done all I can to see Aegon was protected, to see he was educated and made ready for the day he took his throne back and avenged his mother and daughter. That day is finally upon us my prince. The Golden Company march once more with a dragon leading them, a true dragon, your nephew King Aegon the Sixth of his Name. I bid you join him, to add your spears to the might of the Golden Company and together to right the wrongs of that fateful day. Together we can bring down the lions, my prince. Together we can see that your blood sit's the throne it deserves.
Illyrio Mopatis.
He read the words and each one of them annoyed him greatly, the horseshit they contained couldn't be believed and yet it seemed that Doran did.
"You believe this horseshit?"
"Aegon lives, brother." Doran said a full smile on his face as he spoke.
"No he doesn't." he said "Our sister would not choose one child over the other, not even knowing what it was she was to face. Even were she to do so, it would have been Rhaenys, not Aegon she'd have chosen."
"Aegon was the heir, our sister may have been Dornish but even she was aware of this." Doran said almost angrily.
"I'm not speaking of it in regards to Dornish law, brother. A babe was less likely to survive the travel, more difficult to prepare for, and harder to prove true."
"You say I'd not know my nephew?" Doran asked while shaking his head.
"I'm saying you saw Aegon once, twice perhaps. I saw him maybe half a dozen times. I'd not truly be able to tell him from any other boy of the same age now which makes it easy to put a mummer in his place. Rhaenys….Rhaenys I'd know were she to walk past me on a crowded street. Her eyes, her smile, how she looked at things. Those are seared into my heart and still seen when I close my eyes at night. She was her mother's child and I'd no sooner forget the face of our sister than I would mine own." Oberyn said and his words seemed to hit home.
"Then who is this boy that Illyrio speaks of and is he truly in charge of the Golden Company."
He was about to speak to him when there was a knock on the door and a servant entered carrying a note that she handed to his brother. With a nod of Doran's head and a curious look from Oberyn to his brother a man was soon shown in and a letter handed to Doran.
"Your name Ser?" Doran asked the tall unarmed man.
"Ser Franklyn Flowers, my prince." the man replied, and Oberyn looked at him to see that he wasn't nervous or worried and that he wore a number of golden rings around his arms.
"You serve the Golden Company." he said to the man who nodded as Doran read the letter he'd been handed.
"You'll be shown to some quarters, Ser Franklyn, and given refreshments. You'll have my answer on the morrow." Doran said and with that, Ser Franklyn left the room and Doran handed him the second letter and then asked him who this Daemon Targaryen was.
That night he ate and watched as Ellaria played with their children, his paramour having ridden to the Water Gardens at a far slower pace than he and yet still arriving before he'd expected. Seeing her with his youngest girls, seeing them together with their sisters almost made him wish to forget what it was he was soon to set off to do. He knew though he could not, his blood, his very soul demanded it of him and he'd waited too long for the chance.
He'd told Doran all he'd known about Daemon Targaryen, about the Mountain and the Freys, and that, along with the offer made in the letter had been enough for his brother to keep to the plans he'd made when he'd believed it was to be Aegon they were joining in battle. In the future, they would pay Illyrio Mopatis a visit and he would pay for sullying their sister and her children's name so, for now, it was a different man who was on Oberyn's mind. A man who'd been allowed to breathe for far too long and before this war was done, Tywin Lannister would pay dearly for what he'd stolen from Dorne and from him.
Skagos 300 AC.
Brandon Snow.
He had thought that the words he'd be reading would be in regards to the Boltons and their hold on the North. Or that they'd be about the Ironborn or Stannis Baratheon and yet they were not. Instead, they spoke of a boat setting sail for Skagos and the woman, boy, and wolf that were its passengers. If it was the first time that he'd read such, then he'd have paid it little notice. It was not and nor was it even the second of the third.
It made him wonder had the Bolton's heard the tale and if so had they acted. If they had not, then it would be only a matter of time until they did and so it was left to him to act instead. Gathering up one hundred of his best-suited men, he made his way to Eastwatch, and from there they took one of their smaller ships to set sail for Skagos. The larger ships would not fare well with the rougher currents that surrounded the island and its rocky shoreline and so their best chance would be the Wolf's Tooth.
When they reached the island itself it was to find that even the smaller ship couldn't truly dock and so it was to the rowboats that they took. Five trips it took to unload his men and their supplies and looking to the rocks above and to the trees in the distance, he knew their arrival had been watched all the way. Brandon smiled when he saw his first unicorn, as did some of the men with him and it was not the first smile they'd worn since arriving in the North. The food, the ale, the people, all of it had brought smiles to their faces as had the knowledge of why they were here and what they would do. The time for which was drawing ever closer.
"You see the trees?" Artos asked him.
"Aye."
"Ten maybe twenty of them."
"How well armed?" he asked not looking to the trees in question.
"A few with bows, most with what looks to be bronze and iron as well as Dragonglass."
"He was right then." he said and Artos nodded.
Daemon Targaryen for a man who'd not set foot in the North had certainly learned much about it, and he'd learned things that perhaps others had forgotten. One of those things was that the people on Skagos bore Dragonglass weapons and that at one time the men of the Watch and those nearest the Wall had done the same. When Torrhen had asked him why that was, Daemon's answer had surprised both he and his commander.
"The Old Ways are not forgotten by some, Torrhen, and mayhap we need to be asking ourselves why it's others who have."
It was true, the Old Ways of the North had been forgotten over the years, more so in the last generation than in any that came before. Rickard Stark had sought marriages with the most southern of houses and his son Eddard had built a Sept in Winterfell to satisfy his wife. When the men of the Company of the Rose had heard that, it had caused an uproar. Some even questioned why they should help restore the Starks to the Winter Throne.
Even now, more than two hundred years since they'd been formed, they still kept to the Old Gods. Men of the Company staying truer to the North and its ways than the former Warden of the North. Without Daemon to speak up, it had been left to Torrhen to do so and he'd made it clear that what had gone on before would not be allowed to stand again. The next Stark that ruled in Winterfell would be a follower of the Old Gods, Torrhen had declared and who was he or they to argue with their commander. It was why he'd been so keen to find this son of Stark and why he'd been happy when rumors of his demise at the hands of an Ironborn turn cloak didn't seem to tally with other tales he'd heard.
"Men come, Brandon. A parley of sorts." Artos said and Brandon nodded as he looked to the group of men that moved their way.
All in all, there were five and ten of them. They were large men who at first glance seemed to be covered in hair only for Brandon to see it was the clothing they wore. They seemed fearful, wary, and as they arrived he bid his men lower their arms and waited for the leader of this group to announce himself.
"I am The Crowl, what brings you to our lands?" the largest of the men said as he looked at him.
"We come seeking the son of Stark." he replied to some worried looks.
"You'll not take the Rickon to the Flayed Men." The Crowl snarled.
"No, we'll not. On that, you have my word. We mean no harm to the son of Stark, I swear it by the Old Gods and I give you my oath we're here as friends of the Starks and of the North." he said and saw how relieved the Crowl now seemed to be.
"You'll accept guest rights?" The Crowl asked warily.
"Aye, we will."
The salted fish and broken bread were handed to them and each of his men took a bite of each, the Skagosi relaxing even more when they had done so.
"We'll take you to see The Rickon, should he wish to believe you then we'll talk more, but should he not then you'll need to leave." The Crowl said leaving no room for doubt.
"That sounds about right."
It took them more than an hour to make their way to the small village that The Crowl named as his home and they saw the Direwolf long before they saw the walls of the village. It was a fierce-looking thing, black of fur and green of eye and it growled at them angrily before it ran to where he knew not, or at least he knew not then. When they arrived at the village he saw it again, the Direwolf was now laying beside a boy of no more than five namedays and a woman who looked to the Crowl contemptuously.
"You were supposed to kill them, not bring them here." the woman said angrily.
"They're not Flayed Men, Osha, be at peace woman." The Crowl said and though she visibly relaxed, she looked anything peaceful.
"Then who the fuck are they?" the boy snarled.
"Friends of the Starks, Lord Rickon. Men who'll see those who harmed your family pays for doing so." he said and the look the boy gave him made him believe in Torrhen's words about the future of House Stark and the North. As did the wolfish grin on Rickon Stark's face.
The Stormlands 300 AC.
Jon Connington.
Captain Generals weren't replaced in the Golden Company, there was no procedure to do so and Bittersteel in his infinite wisdom had left no provision in the rules for such. Perhaps Aegor had feared that he'd lose control of the company he founded or that the basic principles of why it had been formed would one day be lost. Something that perhaps the fact they were following a red dragon rather than a black one would have proved him right in. Whatever the reasoning, neither Bittersteel nor any of the men who'd followed him had ever sought to instill a process for removing a Captain-General that was ill-suited for the job.
It left him in a quandary over what to do with Homeless Harry, one that as the days went by, only grew. Harry had always been craven and when it came to warfare if he couldn't use his beloved elephants and wasn't riding on top of one, then Harry was far from the field. Commanders though didn't need to be in the thick of things when a battle raged and some were best suited to a command from the rear and so that wasn't truly the issue with Harry. It was that his cowardice put Rhaegar's son at risk and with Varys soon to arrive, Jon wasn't certain the man could be trusted.
Daemon's plans involving the eunuch were only partly known to him. They'd not discussed it much more, other than at the end of the war or sometime before then, Varys would meet his end and be gifted to the Many-Faced God. When he'd pressed Daemon and asked him why that was, all he'd been told was that few men deserved it more. It was frustrating and yet he felt it was for his benefit too, Daemon not wishing him to play any other part with Varys other than the one he'd soon have to. For his silver prince's son, Jon could play that part, he feared Harry could or more likely, would not.
Even after he'd warned him, the fool had still spoken of doing as Varys suggested. No matter that none of them listened to him or were on his side in this, technically he still carried the Company on his shoulders and could ruin Daemon's well-laid plans. With Varys to arrive within a day or two and with the armies having already set off from King's Landing and now moving their way, nothing could be left to chance. What Varys would do should Harry tell him that it wasn't Aegon they followed but Daemon, Jon knew not, but it was a risk he was not willing to take.
Sneaking into the tent, he moved to the bed and saw Harry lying asleep. Grabbing the pillow, he pressed it down onto his face and felt the struggles begin. Unlike Harry, Jon had fought hand to hand for many a year and so he was stronger and fitter than the younger man. A life spent signing papers as the company's former paymaster and of doing little more than firing a bow from atop an elephant was not one that prepared you to fight for your life. So after far less time than he had expected, the struggles began to subside, and finally, they stopped altogether. Jon held the pillow down for a few more moments to make sure that Harry was truly dead and then stepped back from the bed.
"If only I could have trusted you." he said softly as he walked out from the tent and past the golden gilded skulls, skulls that would soon be joined by another.
It was unsurprisingly Lysono who saw him and the spymaster gave him a small nod and wore what looked like a smile to Jon's eyes as he moved to his own tent. Once he reached it, he took a seat and poured himself a mug of wine which he drank down quickly. Then he lay on his bed and was soon asleep. The sound of shouting and the shaking of his body woke him a few hours later.
"Griff, Griff, you must come, Harry is dead." Dick Cole shouted at him and Jon nodded and shook the sleep from his head as he climbed out of the bed.
The command tent was full of the Serjeants and most senior of the company men and entering it, Jon looked to see Lysono and Gorys Edoren both looking down on Harry's body. Beside them stood the healers and Haldon the Half Maester, none of whom were doing anything to the body that lay on the bed. Their examinations had already been concluded before he'd arrived and as Jon looked to the Half Maester, Haldon spoke words that others had heard before him.
"He died in his sleep, Jon, his heart must have given out." Haldon said and Jon looked to Lysono who smirked at him.
"It must have. You can make the preparations for his skull to be added to the others?" he asked the Half Maester who nodded and then Jon turned to the others in the tent "Our Captain-General is dead, we all know what this means. Tonight we celebrate his life and on the morrow, we choose his successor."
"Aye. But will you accept it, Jon?" Lysono asked and Jon looked at him and nodded.
It was not what he wished for or what he sought. He'd have been more than happy to leave Harry in charge and to follow his lead until Daemon was crowned. Once he was, then Jon would seek to serve him in any way he could. He hoped for a seat on the Small Council, but even were he to be placed as the Master of Arms at the Red Keep, he'd have accepted if it meant staying by his prince's son's side. For now, he'd accept being Captain-General of the Golden Company and would do what Harry should have, but he had no intent for his skull to ever be displayed as the others were. That was not to be his destiny, he hoped.
The celebrations ran long into the night, the skull had been cleaned of flesh and hair and dipped in molten gold before being placed with the others and Jon had drunk his fill. Sleep came to him easily and he felt no guilt over what he'd done. He'd known the man for almost five and ten years and yet unlike when Myles Toyne fell, he felt nothing. Of all the lives that had or would be lost to see a Targaryen back on the throne, Harry's was perhaps the least of them and so by the time he woke the next morning, he was almost forgotten.
It took them two hours to name a new Captain-General, the vote almost unanimous and he wondered how much of that was down to himself and how much to Daemon. In the end, it truly mattered not and as they moved camp and marched, he did so at the head of the column and not somewhere in the middle. Looking back to the elephants he wondered if any of them would even notice the change. Like Dragons or Direwolves, they were far smarter beasts than most others and at times they showed an almost emotional response. Would they mourn for Homeless Harry Strickland, or would the man remain forgotten? It was this thought he was still thinking about when they set up their camp that night and it would perhaps have been the one he'd have gone to bed with, were it not for the visitor that arrived.
"Captain-General, a man is outside to see you. He says you know him and names himself The Spider." one of the guards said and Jon bid him let the man enter.
"Varys." Jon said when the eunuch walked into the tent, the disguise not one of his best ones, but enough for what he needed it for he'd imagine.
"Griff." Varys said as Jon bid him a seat and readied to listen to him spin his web while Jon spun one of his own.
Castle Black 300 AC.
Stannis.
None, not one of the ravens he'd sent out had been answered and even after executing Mance Raydar, the Wildlings still wouldn't kneel to him. Looking over the maps and the distance he needed to cover, he worried about supplies almost as much as he worried about men. It was hard ground that separated him from Winterfell and it would take more than a moon to cover it. Stannis feared what he'd lose before the battle even began, as he could afford to lose very little.
Looking to the numbers he had and that he believed the Bolton's could call on, he could see he was on very shaky ground. They outnumbered him by half, perhaps even double, and that was only for as long as he kept his own numbers and they added none to theirs. In that, he had at least been lucky as he looked once again to the reply from Bear Island and the words that had been written by a ten nameday old girl. The grinding of his teeth was the only sound in the Lord Commander's solar as he did so.
We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark.
The audacity of a child to write such words to the one true king was not lost on him. He'd hoped that Bear Island would declare for him and had been certain they would. After all, he'd come to the aid of the Watch when no one else had. Even though he'd not been able to save their kinsman, he'd come, had he not. What other king was there who'd done more than he and who would be more dutiful and worthy to sit the Iron Throne? Surely he was better for the North than the Bolton's who'd turned on the Starks and had helped the Frey's break guest rights at the Red Wedding?
He cursed that there were no remaining Starks alive. For had there been then he could have named one as Warden or were it one of the girls, arranged marriage to a worthy man in his command and given them Winterfell and the North when he left for the South. Had he been able to help them avenge the Red Wedding it would have bought him their loyalty, wouldn't it? Was he to do it still, would it bring him the rest of the North's? it had to, for while beating the Boltons was possible with the men he had to call upon, beating the Lannisters and the Tyrell's was certainly not. Hearing the knock on the door, he bid them enter and was a little annoyed to see it was Ser Davos and not Melisandre who did so.
"Your grace." Ser Davos said respectfully.
"The men are ready?" he asked and the knight nodded.
"They are your grace. The Queen and the princes, are you sure you wish to leave them here, your grace?"
"No. But I have nowhere else I can, Ser Davos. I fear what the march to Winterfell would do to them and a battle is no place for a child or her mother." he almost growled.
"No, your grace, it's not. I'll wait outside with the men." Davos said sensing his mood and Stannis nodded as he left him alone with his thoughts for a few moments more.
The lady did come a few moments later and just the sight of her as she almost glided into the room was more than enough to remove some of those doubts. He smelt her as she passed him and moved to the fire. Stannis almost fighting with himself to turn and take in the sight of her as the flames almost reflected off her red dress. When he did turn to look at her, his breath was taken away once more and the thoughts of grabbing her and taking her on the table weren't far from his mind when he moved closer to her.
"What does your god show you?" he asked as he breathed in her perfume.
"I see a great battle in the snow. The Flayed Man falls as does the Kraken, I see victory, my king." she said and he nodded before moving to the door.
The Wildlings would be left to stay on this side of the Wall, the Night's Watch was bruised and battered and unable to keep them prisoner on the other side of it. In time they'd come and kneel to him and fight the good fight but it was not to be the one to put him on the Iron Throne. That was a fight that he'd have to win alone and it was one he was ready for, as was the one that was to follow. He was Azor Ahai reborn, the Prince that was Promised, in time he'd wake dragons from stone and he'd already forged Lightbringer. As he rode out the gates of Castle Black he didn't look back or pause, he rode to his destiny.
Three days later he began to question just what that destiny was. The snows had come and he and his men had been ill-prepared for them. Thankfully they'd found a place to camp that kept them from the worst of them, but he feared how long they'd last for and what obstacles they'd fine between here and Winterfell by the time they were done. Outside his guards huddled around fires that had been made by the Lady Melisandre and inside his tent despite the fire that raged, he felt as cold as ice.
During the night they'd lost two men to the cold and three to desertion. How many more he'd lose before the true fight to come, he knew not. His dreams when he slept were more nightmares than anything else. Dreams of Renly and Robert, his brothers calling to him and telling him that soon his time to join them was to come. Stannis would shout back at them that he couldn't die yet, that he was needed, that Westeros needed him and would fall without him and he tried not to listen to the words that Robert spat back.
"They never needed us, brother. It was the sons of Orys that they needed and instead they got me and you."
He'd see shapes in the dreams too, what looked like wolves coming out of the shadows. A red one, a black one, and a grey, though it was the white one that he feared more than any for some reason. He watched as they feasted on a flayed man and tore the heart out of a lion, as they howled at a stag and chased down a mockingbird. Then he woke up and cried out in panic as a man with no face stabbed him in his flaming heart.
"Your grace, your grace." Ser Justin Massey said and Stannis shook his head and told him he was well, that it was just bad dreams.
When the storm finally died down, he'd been relieved they'd not lost even more than they had. Less than twenty to death and desertion and soon enough those who'd deserted had found that death was all that awaited them. Melisandre said it showed that her god still favored his chosen and that were any other man to be leading them, then more would have been lost. He wanted to believe she was right and yet as they marched he felt more and more sure she was not. From the trees, he felt he was being watched, and at night he heard the howling of wolves. Yet onward he marched for it was his destiny, was it not?
The Stormlands 300 AC.
Daemon.
Seeing just how much the lands and the people had suffered during the War of the Five Kings was an eye-opener to his cousin. Sansa found that despite her own suffering in King's Landing, she'd been somewhat protected from the true horrors of war. It took a toll on her and he did the best to lighten the mood as much as he could as they rode. Though given they were riding to another war and one that would decide so very much, it was not an easy task.
Listening as she told him all she'd known of his mother and finding out it was not very much at all was frustrating. His uncle had it seemed rarely spoken of her and it had required his other uncle who was at the Wall to do so. Daemon himself had more stories of her than Sansa did and so he shared them with her and tried not to speak too much on how he'd learned some of them. The visions he'd seen in the House of the Undying were not really ones he could explain after all.
One thing he had noticed as they journeyed together was the more time she spent with him, the more comfortable they both became around each other. There was still some distrust on Sansa's part, but seeing her sister again and watching as he brought justice to those who'd wronged her family, would be more than enough for that to soon no longer be the case. What his plans for her after that were, he knew not. Other than in time she and her sister would have their home returned to them, even if they'd need to wait a little longer for that to happen.
For now, he enjoyed the time they spent together and made his plans for what would happen when he reached the Golden Company's camp and faced off against Tywin Lannister and the Roses. By now Oberyn should have received his letter and the offer contained in it and Dorne would rise and join them. As for the Roses, well soon enough they'd have their own problems to face. He smiled at the thought of that, wondering just how many of their Bannermen would desert them and though they'd not yet come to his side, it would matter little as it would tilt the scales fully in their favor.
"We'll camp here." he said as he saw Sansa move a little uncomfortably on her horse.
"Are we close?" she asked when he helped her down, her hands on his shoulders and her bright blue eyes looking into his own much darker grey ones.
"A day, two. You understand your part?" he asked and she nodded, offering him a warm smile as he moved to set up the fire.
They ate the remainder of the deer he'd caught two days earlier, the meat needing to be finished before it spoiled. His cousin had found her appetite while on the road with him, or so she'd told him. Sansa said that while in King's Landing or the Vale, she ate only because she had to and had found no enjoyment in her meals. Freedom it seemed was good for more than the soul. After they'd eaten she went to make water and Daemon moved with her, standing behind the bush while she did so and then helping her back to the camp.
He watched her as she slept that night and wondered what she'd have thought of him had Jaqen not made it to the Tower of Joy in time. Bastards were not thought highly of in most of Westeros other than in Dorne or the North and yet he felt her faith or perhaps more truly her mother's would have not seen them close. His uncle would have named him as his bastard son and that would have brought its own problems. The Kindly Man having told him that what he'd have gained in growing up with kin, he'd have lost in so many other ways. Which was why he'd not been allowed to.
For Daemon though hearing stories of Sansa's brothers and sisters made him wonder if that was true. Would he have loved them as if they were his own and them, him, and would it really have meant he'd have been in no position to do what he must, were the thoughts he fell to sleep with that night. Thoughts of names on a list and of making those responsible for all that had happened to his family pay were what he woke to. Once they'd broken their fast, they rode again and he found the conversation between them flowed easily. It was a strange thing for him, as usually he rode alone, and even when he had company, rarely was he as effusive as he seemed to be with his cousin.
"From here on, you must name me Aegon, Sansa. Once I wear this face that's who I must be, you understand?" he said as his hair became silver and his eyes purple.
"I…Does it hurt?" she asked worriedly.
"To those who don't serve the Many-Faced God, it would be lethal. For those who do, only when we stray from our path." he said, hoping that was enough of an answer for now and glad when it seemed to be so.
"I know what I must do. You can count on me, Aegon." Sansa said and Daemon smiled at her as they looked at the tents in the distance and saw the riders approach.
There were almost a dozen of them and thankfully one was a Serjeant and a man he'd met before. Jon Lothson was a tall fierce-looking man who was red of hair and beard and he heard Sansa gasp as she looked at the wealth that he wore on his body. He'd tried his best to explain to her how the Golden Company worked and this part especially, as even he'd been taken aback when he'd first seen even common soldiers wearing a lord's ransom in gold on their persons.
"Your grace, we'd not expected to see you so soon." Jon said looking from him to Sansa.
"You think I'd miss the battle, Jon?" he japed to loud laughs.
"No, your grace, and I thank the gods you're here to lead us against the Lions and Roses." Jon said before riding closer to him "Your mission was successful, your grace?" he asked, his voice no more than a whisper, and Daemon nodded "We have a guest, a Lord Varys has arrived and is speaking to the Captain-General." he then said more loudly getting another gasp from his cousin.
"I'm sure Homeless Harry is most pleased." he chuckled only to see some of the faces around him darken.
"Harry passed a few nights past, your grace. Griff has been named in his place." Jon said and this time Daemon's smile was far more true.
"Thank the gods for that." he said to what seemed to be genuine nods of agreement "Well I believe the lady has ridden enough for the day, perhaps we should make our way to the Captain General's tent and see to quarters for the Lady Sansa."
"I'll see some are arranged, your grace." Jon said looking to two of the men who rode off in the direction of the camp to see it done.
Daemon rode closer to his cousin and almost laughed when he saw her shocked expression when she saw the elephant's enclosure and the giant beasts inside them.
"You've never seen one before?" he asked and she shook her head "They're gentle creatures by nature, but they can be fierce when provoked and when they charge in battle, there is little that can stand in their way. Westeros believes a cavalry charge to be formidable, Sansa, but that's only because they've never faced an elephant's one." he said and Sansa seemed relieved by that, but that relief was only momentary as she turned and looked worriedly at him.
"Is Lord Varys really here?"
"He is. The face I wear is enough to gain his loyalty, Sansa. To him, I'm the Mummer's Dragon that he intends to place on the throne and he's been working to that end from the moment he came to Westeros."
"And what is he to you?" she asked softly.
"A name on a list." he said and once again he was taken in by how beamingly she smiled at him.
Whether it was to be today, tomorrow, days, weeks, or even moons from now that he wiped that particular name off his mother's list was still to be decided. If there was still some use that he could get out of Varys, then the eunuch would see another sunrise. Sansa he believed would play her part in what was to come and so it was time to be a mummer once again. Soon the Many-Faced God would be gifted even more and his mother's vengeance would be closer to being done. His own would take far longer to accomplish and as he looked to Sansa riding beside him, he wondered how long it would take for hers to be satisfied.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. sorry for the lateness. A Mummery plays out as Daemon sends Varys on a merry little dance and Tywin and Mace ride into a trap with no way out. Daemon uses his skills to cause disruption in his enemies' ranks and a battle takes place which changes the course of events in the South forever. While we also take a look at some past events and an aunt and nephew's meeting in Essos.