Brandon Snow

It is said that one can feel the death of their twin from half the world away. It seemed to be so for the Blackreyne twins Ciron and Tyron. Ciron rode with the Northern Army under King Torrhen. they were a day past the twins when Ciron felt a sudded wave of agony. He fell from his horse catching the attention of King Torrhen, and his commanders. Ciron was on hNorthern Army under King Torrhen. they were a day past the twins when Ciron felt a sudded wave of agony. He fell from his horse catching the attention of King Torrhen,is knees clutching his chest and growling from pain.

Torrhen's brother Brandon Snow knelt beside his friend with great concern. "What's wrong Ciron, are you ill?"

Ciron looked at Brandon and shook his head before turning back to the ground. Brandon took a closer look and saw tears staring to build in his eyes. Brandon pressed him gently, "what happened Ciron?"

Ciron looked back at Brandon and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "My brother is dead."

Brandon didn't need to ask which one had died, only the death of a twin could have such an effect on someone like Ciron Blackreyne. Brandon placed a hand on his friends back as Ciron stared at the ground breathing heavily. But something else disturbed him, at Ciron's second glance, Brandon noticed something in his eyes, something he had never seen before in their many years, something dark, sinister, cold.

The last time the twins saw each other was shortly before Aegon began his conquests. It was during the council between Torrhen Stark, Dalton Blackreyne and Argilac Durrendon. The Blackreyne Brothers hadn't seen each other in ten years so the reuinion was as happy as can be expected. When it came time to depart. Dalton told them he had a gift for their nameday which was in a fortnight.

Without a word Ciron stalked off, Brandon quietly followed from a distance. The walked until he came across a nearby stream. then he pulled out his dagger. Fearing that he was going to kill himself, Brandon stepped forward to stop him. But before he could reach him Ciron took the blade to his hair and sliced a lock off. It was the lock that Ciron dyed Black in order to differentiate himself from Tyron. Unlike the rest of his hair which was cut short like Tyron's, Ciron had the dark lock grown long until it was a foot long. It wasn't just to eliminate confision, that lock was his identity, and now it was severed. Ciron gripped it tightly in his left hand as he stared at the flowing water of the stream. Finally Ciron turned and walked back to the army. Brandon realized that his old friend would never be the same again.

Orys

After the battle of the Last Storm Aegon and his brothermarched on Storm's End. After the death of Argilac. most of the Stormlords had bend the knee to Aegon. the battlehad been costly but Aegon's ranks had swelled to 15,000 strong. Aegon felt that with the stormlands now behind him and Balerion the last Bastion of House Durrendon would fall swiftly.

However when they finally arrived, Orys saw that no banners flew over the battlements of the massive fortress, and the gates were wide opened. Orys and Aegon shared a look before advancing. They entered the castle and made their way to the courtyard. Here they found the Storm's End Garrison, or rather what was left of it standing outside with a figure on it knees before them.

One man obviously the commander of the garrison stepped forward and knelt before Aegon. "Your grace," the man began. "I am Ser Meryn Penrose, as Captain of the Storm's End Garrison I hereby surrender Storm's End to you." He walked over to the figure on it's knees and lifted the head up. Orys realized the figure was a woman with jet black hair. She was trying to cover her nakedness with her hands.

"And as a sign of good faith," Ser Penrose continued. "We also give you the former storm queen Argella Durrendon."

Orys gasped in shock and strode towards her. he lifted her bowed head and looked into her tear soaked eyes brimming with rage. Quickly Orys stood up and stripped off his cloak and covered her with it. Argella didn't try to wrap it around as she remained where she was.

He regarded her for a moment and before Penrose could say anything. Orys wheeled around and struck him as hard as he could. The powerful blow sent Penrose flying. Penrose struggled to his knees spitting out blood and teeth as he looked at Orys in disbelief.

"That girl is the daughter of your king!" Orys roared, "HAVE YOU NO REGARD FOR HER HONOR."

"S-she wouldn't s-surrender," Penrose tried to explain. "She m-might have k-killed us all."

While this was happening Aegon was looking around and noticed a lack of a second prisoner. "Where is Tyron Blackreyne?"

"He will not trouble you anymore." Penrose answered.

Aegon burned when he heard this and landed a kick to Penrose stomach, causing the man to keel over gasping for breath."

"STUPID ANIMAL," Aegon thundered. "I wanted him alive!"

Aegon whirled around and mounted Balerion. "Can you manage here brother?"

Orys nodded, "absolutely, congradulations your grace Storm's End is yours."

Aegon frowned, "I wish it was under better circumstances." He said bitterly and with a kick Aegon flew off.

"Give me the keyes to the chains NOW." Orys ordered.

The garrison hastened to obey and unchained Argella. Orys turned to his men, "go to her chambers and find her something to cover herself." He turned to the now terrified garrison. "I'm sure these fine men would be more than happy to escort you."

The men of the garrison nodded and led the way. Orys knelt down and as gently as he could lifted Argella up and took her to one of the chambers.

Once Argella was decent Orys had her brought to the dining room. Wine was brought up along with a small meal.

When he offered her wine, she just curled up in her chair and shook her head. Orys sighed, this wasn't the woman he had met in their first visit to Storm's End. That woman looked regal, proud, strong and fierce, now all that was left of her was an empty broken shell. "I am truly sorry for what happened to you." He tried to explain.

"Why would you be?" Argella wondered her voice dripping with venom.

"Because it was cruel and dishonorable beyond measure." Orys replied, "No woman deserves to be treated like that. Especially not a queen, and certainly not after the death of their beloved."

"T-they k-killed him," the former storm queen rasped, "they killed T-Tyron. They didn't even have the decency to return his bones to his family, they just dumped him off the wall like the contents of a chamber pot."

Orys frowned, that was ill done, he was now reconsidering sparing them. "I swear the men will pay for this outrage."

Argella looked at him coldly. "Why should I trust the word of the man who killed my father."

"Your father died the way he lived," Orys replied, "On-"

"-his own terms," Argella finished. "My husband said those exact words to me when we learned of my father's death."

"You truly loved him didn't you?"

Argella nodded, "it doesn't matter now does it. My father is dead, my love is dead, I've lost my crown, my home and the house of Durrendon will go extinct. As for me I shall be sold to you like livestock forced in a marraige to act like an ever dutiful wife."

Orys shook his head, "no Argella, it doesn't have to be that way."

"It's not like I have a choice," Argella quipped.

"You do have a choice," Orys stood up and looked out the window. "Aegon will make me Lord Paramount of Storm's End. But there will still be those who name me usurper. If I were to marry you it would silence many of those voices. I will not force you into a marraige you do not want. Say the word and I shall send you to Arnor. The Blackreynes will treat you well and maybe one day help you take back your seat. Is that what you want?"

Argella noted him for a moment and drew herself up her eyes never leaving Orys'. "Storm's End is my home, it belongs to House Durrendon. I am the last of the Line of Durrendon Orys , I was born in this castle and so I will die the lady of this castle. I will not flee my home for anything even pride." She placed an hand on the table. "I consent to marry you," Argella declared. "On one condition."

Orys straightened up, "name it."

Argella's eyes narowed and Orys finally saw the woman she had once been. "Give the garrison to the Blackreynes. Let them avange their brother."

Orys stared at her for a moment and finally nodded with a small smile. "I can do that."

When Penrose and the rest of the garrison learned what their fates would be they panicked and pleaded for mercy. "We gave you storm's end and prevented you from suffering losses in taking it," Penrose protested. "I thought you and your king would express some apprieciation. Is death to be our reward for our show of loyalty?"

Orys whirled around in anger, He grabbed Penrose by the collar and lifted him up. "You speak of loyalty Penrose, yet you were so eager to betray your queen so shortly after the demise of her beloved father. Then to top it all, you had the audacity to treat her in such a shamful manner. Since you were so willing to turn against the last ruler of Storm's End I don't exactly feel safe with you in my castle."

"Do you have any Idea what they will do to us?" He protested weakly.

Orys regarded him coldly,"you whould have thought of that before you dishonored my future wife."

Orys turned to his commander, "throw them into the cells where they belong." The man nodded and with that Orys' men dragged the treacherous men away.

Dalton

Ciron was not the only Blackreyne to feel Tyron's death, thousands of miles away, in Arnor. Dalton Blackreyne stood on the balcony of his chambers barechested watching the storm that raged tonight, streaks of red and blue lightning cut across the darkened sky in a frightening yet wonderous display. Thunder rolled in from the nearby mountains despite the strength of the fortress, Dalton could still feel the vibrations caused by the thunder's roar through his bared feet. 'The thestrals are angry tonight,' Dalton knew. These storms often came to the Sentinal Isles, it was during such events that Dalton unchained the Thestrals and allowed them to roam free since they could do so without being seen. It also explained the streaks of lightning which were too frequent follow the natural pattern. Thestrals were formidable, but it was during Storms like this was when they were at their strongest. As though they drew power from it.

In watching the storm, Dalton went into a trance his breathing deepened as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. In the trance Dalton saw a thestral surrounded by wraiths with spears. The wings of the thestral appeared to be burned and broken. The waiths drew closer , their spears neared the thestral. The threstral roared, spitting and biting down many wraiths, but for every one that died two more replaced it. Behind the Thestral was a wounded doe which was backed to a corner crying out in pain. The spears of the wraiths finally touched the thestrals hide. the wraiths paused for a moment, then with a cry, they thrust their spears in impaling the Thestral, the thestral gave a roar of defiance before crumpling to the ground an ever growing pool of blood seeped around it. The doe who simply layed down and let her fur soak in it.

A boom of thunder snapped Dalton out of his trance, his eyes narrows and he clanched his fist, he realized what the dream meant and what had happened tonight. His ears catch a faint sound. Dalton turned his head slightly and spies Daala coming up beside him with only a thin sheet to cover her otherwise naked body. Daala traces her hand down his back as she rested her head on Dalton's shoulders. "Come back to bed," she cooed, "you're thinking too much about this war."

Dalton sighed, "I cannot do that darling, I do not know how this will turn out but regardless of the outcome of this war everything will be different. Westeros will never be the same again."

"Then it's a good thing we Blackrenes are easily adaptable," She replied with a sly smile.

Dalton returned the smile and grasped her hand. "I suppose you're right," he said. But that doesn't stop me from worrying."

Daala guided Dalton back to the bed and he layed there with his head on her lap. "I must ask, Daala said after a moment. "Why are you so adament on marrying lady Rhaenys. I've seen the Targaryens, and I think Visenya would be a better match. You two have more in common."

Dalton shrugged, "perhaps too alike in my opinion." Daala gave him a curious look as her brother continued. "Visenya Targaryen is a martial woman, dark, serious, like fire. In other words she is a female version of me. But that creates a problem, when two minds think alike it makes decisions boring and too simple. Rhaenys is one of those things, she is spirited, playful and sweet. Yet she is not without ferocity, and that is what I need. I need someone who will question my decision. Someone who's nature tempers my own. Both of us together would make a good influence on our children should the Titans will it. Also I saw her once when she and her family visited the Arbor and I was convinced i was looking at a goddess. I swear to my grave I will never know a fairer woman."

Dawn had broken the day after when Dalton recieved the news that confirmed his fear. He quickly called a council of the family. As they sat at the table Dalton eyed them grimly, most trying to shake off sleep. Malgus was the first to speak, "this better be important for you to call us from snoozeland," he grumbled.

Dalton put his hands on the table the sighed, "Tyron is dead." The silence that followed seemed to last forever. Daala was in shock, Malgus snarled, Veiga's eyes flashed dangerously. Cora and Tara gasped before weeping softly, Jangus and Dalton remained indifferent.

"How?" Veiga growled.

Dalton frowned. Tha Storm's End Garrison betrayed Argella shortly after, her father's death at the Battle of the Last Storm. Tyron was slain along with her personal escort and Argella's Antler Guard."

"What of Argella?" Jangus asked

Dalton frowned, "the Storm's end garrison stripped her naked and gave her to the dragon lord and his bastard in chains."

Malgus banged his fist on the table causing it to shake and creating a loud boming noise that echoed across the room. "FILTHY ANDAL WORMS," he roared. "WE'LL WATER THE EARTH WITH THEIR BLOOD FOR THIS!"

Jangus nodded in agreement. "The lesser beasts can't stand the idea of being ruled by a woman so the moment another prospect presented itself they tucktail and turn cloak."

"Without the Stormlands our army will be smaller," Veiga noted before turning to Dalton. "How do you wish to deal with this development?"

Dalton shook his head, "there is nothing we can do about the Stormlands now," Dalton said with a dangerous calm in his voice. "But rest assured brothers and sisters, vengence will be ours in time,"

"So what are your orders Dalton?" Daala asked.

Dalton turned to Malgus. "Take command of the Blackwater Fleet and give the Dragonlord's fleet the warmest unwelcome." Malgus stood and bowed, "it will be done Brother," he said with a sadistic grin.

Before he could take his leave a steward entered the war room. "Pardon my king but a Greenseer is here to see you."

The Blackreynes all stood up and Dalton gave a gesture with his hand, "grant him entry."

The Greenseer entered, it was truly an honor for the Blackreynes to recieve a visit from an 'ancient.' He was small only a child to the eyes of most. His head barely reached Dalton's hip. His ears were large and his beard was long indicating his advanced age. Like most greenseers, hie eyes were blood red with cat-like slits. His skin was nut-brown and his hands held four digits that ended in black claws. The greenseer's attire was made of bark and leaves, as was the hooded cloak he wore. The staff his bore was taller than him and was a sign of his position as well as prop for age. All in all an unimpressive looking figure, but the Blackreynes, as all Arnorians knew. this race held great power, they were the stewards of all the earth and they deserved all manner of respect.

He was accompanied by 6 wood dancers armed with obsidian daggers and weirwood bows. As soon as he entered the Blackreynes bowed in unision. Dalton then greeted the ancent using Old Tongue, "noble ancient, welcome to Arnor."

The greenseer bowed his head respectfully and climbed up to the round table so that he was at eye level with the Blackreyne King. "I trust your journey was not too troublesome," Dalton continued.

"It went smoothly, thank you King Dalton," the Greenseer replied, "I am very sorry to learn about the recent passing of your brother, You may call me Frost."

Dalton nodded, "as you wish Frost and I thank you for your condolences. So what brings the leader of the ancients so far from the forests."

"I know you are about go to war with the dragons."

There was silence before Dalton broke it, "if you are concerned about the well being of your people and homes Frost I assure you we will ensure their safety as we always have."

Frost was silent for a moment before speaking again. "It is not our longavity that concerns us but what you intend to do when he arrives."

Dalton was confused for a moment, "I am not sure what you mean."

Frost frowned, "we know what you have King Dalton, we know the secret you have kept from the world for 8 millenias."

Dalton finally understood, "You have come about our thestrals."

Frost nodded, 'You have withheld a great and terrible power for a long time, We are concerned about a greater conflict that may arise should you reveal it to your fellow men. Particularly with your powerful countrymen in the Far east of Essos."

Daltoneyes widened in realization and sluped back into his seat, "House Whitehall."

Frost nodded, "if your people ever go to war again it will tear the land apart until it's nothing but ash and bones."

"That will not happen," Dalton declared. "While it is true we are bitter enemies, the Whitehalls of Eridon hold your people in reverence as we do. Whatever out grievances we will not settle them in you lands or any other, we shall not have a repetition of the what happened to our homeland."

Frost studied him for a moment before speaking again, "if you say so," he said calmly, "but what of the dragons."

"Our Thestrals will be used solely to make sure they do not overstep themselves, we have never abused the power given to us for 8 thousand years, we shall not do so today. If you do not wish us to reveal them then we shall honor that request. "

Frost nodded, "very well, then you have my blessing to do as you wish," he held out his hand. Dalton took it and placed it at his forehead. and with that Frost and his guards left the room. When they were out of earshot one of the Wood dancer spoke up.

"Are you sure that is wise, letting them wield such power."

Frost turned to him, "What ever sins they may commit in the future, they will never compare to our own sins my friend. I wonder if they ever learned the truth about what our own sins have done. Will they ever forgive us?"

After the ancients had left, Dalton raised his goblet. "To Tyron," he roared, "may he ride with the Titans in the Apokalyx everlasting."

As he said this his siblings followed his leadand raised their goblets, "TYRON!" and they all drained their cups.

Malgus set his goblet down and left to follow through on his brother's command. Dalton turned to his youngest brother, "Jangus I am leaving you in charge of Arnor in our absence. You have proven your worth in the past and I expect you to do so now." Jangus gave a curt nod indicating he understood his duty, He was a very private man and only spoke when he absolutely had to. But he was capable and would not yied to anyone but his siblings.

Dalton now focused on the rest of his siblings, "the rest of us will fly to the Gods Eye and meet with the rest of our forces, Lord Justinian already expects our arrival."

After the council meeting everyone was making preparations to leave for the Gods Eye donning armour and weapons and unchaining their thestrals. Dalton and Daala were already prepared so they took a long walk down one of the many halls. Of all his siblings Daala was his closest confident

"Ciron will not take the death of his brother well," Daala said.

Dalton nodded, "they are two halves of the same whole, without one the other will fall to pieces."

"Is there anything we can do for him?"

Dalton was silent for a moment, "I don't know, I guess it will depend on what kind of person he is when we meet again."

Sharra

"Mother, will the dragon really come here?"

Young Ronnel was seated on her lap as she read of news from the south. She smiled down at the boy and stroked his hair. "I don't know Ronnel, We will just have to wait and see."

"I want to flyin on the dragon," he said. "The image of her son on the back of a dragon both terrified her and brought a smile to her face.

"Don't be stupid Ron," another voice said. "You can't ride a dragon, you're too little and no dragon would waste their time on you."

"Shut up Jonos," Ronnel shot out, "if anyone is stupid here it's you."

"The dragon may fly up here like the winged knight did on a giant falcon

"The dragons can't get us," Jonos declared. The Eyrie is impregnable no one can touch us everyone says so."

"Boys, boys" Sharra said sharply, that's quite enough, now either you behave or there will be no sweets tonight." Her sons sulkily promised to behave and went to the inner courtyard to play.

When news reached Sharra Arryn of the Death of the last Storm king, she grew fearful. Argilac was one of the most beligerant Monarchs of the time. A seasoned warrior and a proven commander. Yet it wasn't Argilac's death that made her so fearful, it was the fate of his daughter. If the stormlords were so eager to overthrow her what was to stop the vale lords from doing the same to her.

Ever since the Last Storm Sharra doubled her efforts in preparing the Vale's defences. The Vale army of 30,000 was amassed at the Bloody Gate and the garrisons at the Gates of the Moon, the waycastles and the Eyrie itself were tripled now numbering 10,000 men in total. Sharra smirked, say what you wanted about the Blackreynes but they knew fortifications. Even thousands of years later the Gates of the Moon was the same as it was when House Blackreyne occupied it. It barely needed any form a repair or modifications.

Yet she still had reason to worry. After Marla Sunderland fled the Eyrie to join Aegon, Sharra wondered how many other houses would also rally to Aegon. It is well know that the woman wanted revenge on the Blackreynes for driving her and her people off the three islands they had called home for eons. Sharra had refused to help her retake them, and things had been stormy ever since.

"The Last Dance of the Sisters as it was called was the last war fought between the North and the Vale. Pirates from the sisters had went too far when they attacked a ship coming from Bloodstone to White Harbor. That ship just happend to be carrying Dalton Blackreyne's uncle Harron. In retaliation, House Blackreyne launched total war on the sistermen. Driving them off the islands and establishing a new Blackreyne colony right there in the bite. When the Vale tried to intervene, Dalton captured Gulltown the Gates of the Moon and Waycastle Stone. Sharra had begged her husband not to go to war with the Blackreynes knowing it was folly. But the prideful man refused to listen. Sharra's husband was slain by Dalton himself during the war leaving his widow the Queen Regent of the Vale. Sharra agreed to leave the Three Sisters in exchange for the return of their settlements.

The Last Dance of the Sister effectively ended the hostilities between the two kingdoms for good. The islands now acted as a buffer zone between the them and the Blackreynes gained yet again another foothold in Westeros.

As she overlooked the defenses from the gatehouse, she considered writing to Dalton to see if his alliance proposal was still open. Despite what the the rulers of the seven kingdoms disagreed on one thing was certain. None of them wanted to loose their crowns. Dalton had seen this coming and tried to warn us about it. Now this dragonlord was picking off the divided kingdoms one by one it would not be long before they came to hers. Perhaps if they had agreed it would have deterred Aegon from invading. None of that matters now, one kingdom had fallen only six to go.

As she dwelt on this she heard a screech come from the sky. Sharra looked up and saw what she thought was a falcon soaring overhead. But as she took a closerlook she realized the shape was wrong it seemed more Bat like with a neck and a very long tail. Sharra's eyes widened as she realized what it was, "Dragon." she whispered as she saw it head straight for the courtyard were her sons were playing.

Sharra rushed to the courtyard as fast as she could with over a dozen guards following. "how could I be so stupid," she beat herself mentally. "Dragons don't need to bother themselves with castles and forts and armies. Dragons fly."

When she reached the courtyard the sight before her caught her by surprise. Ronnel was sitting on Visenya Targaryen's Lap staring up at the magnificenty dragon before him. When Sharra finally noted the Dragon, she too was mesmirized by it.

Ronnel then turned to his mother with a grin on his face. "Mother, can I go flying with the lady?" he asked.

Sharra was unable to respond at first, her eyes darted fearfully between her son and the Targaryen queen. She knew Visenya could easily kill her son with a simgle strike. She then locked eyes with Visenya, hey eyes screaming a silent plea, "please don't hurt my son." Visenya returned the gaze, her own eyes saying, 'I have no intention on doing so.'

"Your son will be safe I assure you," Visenya said with a smile.

Sharra stared at the younger woman, if not for the circumstances, Sharra would have been giving her looks of admiration. Dalton had told her that Visenya is a renowned warrior, now seeing her in her chainmail and the sword Dark Sister strapped to her hip. She saw strength in the Targaryen queen and eyes that burned with passion. and after a moment she smiled at Visenya. She then turned to her son and nodded. To this day Sharra swore her son's smile was never bigger.

Sharra watched as her son flew higher and higher into the air, even from so far down Sharra could hear Ronnel's laughter. Off to the side Sharra noticed Jonos was staring after his brother, his arms were crossed ans the look of jealousy was written all over his face

Rhaenys

While Visenya succeeded in securing the Vale for her brother, Rhaenys was having no such lock in Dorne. No matter where she went, every settlement, every castle was all but abandoned. Frustrated Rhaenys flew to Sunspear itself. she met no resistance as she was escorted to the throne room by the Princess's handmaidens. Rhaenys found Princess Meria sitting on her throne waiting for her. It was quite a site Rhaenys slender and beautiful with hair that spilled past her hips. While Meria Martell was eighty years of age, fat and blind with sagging skin and a balding head.

Meria smiled knowing who had arrived. "Hello 'your grace,'" she said with mocked pleasantness. "I trust your conquest of my humble kingdom is not going as planned."

Rhaenys smirked and the old woman as she strode forward. "Your people only prolong the inevitable, Princess Meria. Dorne will not be able to resist the might of the dragons."

Meria's smile broadened. "I shall not fight you," she replied. "But I will not kneel to you either, Dorne has no king, Dorne needs no king. Tell your brother that."

Rhaenys returned the smile. "I shall and when we return we shall bring with us fire and blood."

Meria chuckled. "your House words," she acknowledged. "Our words are Unbent, Unbowed, Unbroken. "You may can burn us my lady, but you will not bend us, break us or make us bow. "This is Dorne Rhaenys Targaryen, and you are not welcome here. Return at your own peril."

Rhaenys eyes narrowed, and with a scoff she whirled around and stalked off back to her dragon. Meria smiled, "what I would give to see the look on her brother's face when he sees what the Blackreynes have in store for him."

Loren Lannister

The Battle of the Last Storm had sent shockwaves through much of the west. With the Fall of House Durrendon. the kings in the west reralized that they would be next. Determined not to be brought down so easily Loren I Lannister, the King of the Rock met with Mern IX Gardener, King of the Reach. Together the two monarchs forged an alliance and assembled their armies forming one of the largest host in Westeros at the time. The two armies met at the Castle Goldengrove numbering 80,000 Strong. Including 30,000 westermen and 50,000 Reachmen. Between them the host had 10,000 knights, this would be their Iron fist to Crush Aegon's meager host. Daragons can burn any army but only an army can hold territory.

King Mern was enormously pleased with himself. "We outnumber the Targaryens 4 to 1 your grace," he declared to Loren. "Soon we will crush his army and bring to an end the adventures of this Valyrian Pretender."

King Loren smirked, he too was sure of success. The skys were clear so their 10,000 archers would find easy targets in the Targaryen's enourmous dragons. "This indeed will be a day long remembered your grace," he said. Loren raised his goblet to propose a toast. "I do believe this is the Start of a beautiful friendship. Once my eldest daughter is wed to your eldest son, it will secure the bond between our houses for generations."

KIng Mern smiled, "nothing would make me happier my friend." He raised his own goblet and the two kings clashed them together and took a drink. "To a fruitful and prosperous alliance." Arround them Lannister and Gardener Lords followed their kings' example.

The Great Western Host marched to meet Aegon. The dragon King had the smaller host which meant that he was able to move across the reach more swiftly. When the two armies finally did meet, The Western Host, in a stroke of luck was able to take the highground with meant that King Loren and King Mern were now looking down at the Targaryen's smaller force.

Sice King Merns had committed more men to the host it was decided that he would command the center riding alongside nearly all of his male kin. King Loren commanded the rear. Little did they know was that the King of the Rock had done this deliberately. The plan was simple. Their Iron fist of Lords and knights would pierce through the Targaryen center. The reachmen would smash Aegon's right flank while the Westermen smashed the left.

Seeing that his opponent had the high ground. Aegon deployed his army in a cresent formation with the typical Pikes in front and archers behind with cavalry in the flanks. just out of sight Aegon along with his sisters, mounted their dragons and waited for the right moment to strike.

The Horns sounded end the Tyrell/Lannister host charged. King Mern's plan seemed to be going well. The Iron fist smashed through Aegon's ranks like cheese decimating his center. While the Targaryen fanks were able to hold firm it seemed that they were about to be crushed under the Lannister/Tyrell flanks which were slowly closing in.

But just as it seemed that the Targaryen host would be crushed, an ungodly roar could be heard above. Loren looked up and saw three dark shapes in the sky. Loren saw the shapes grow larger and larger. Loren looked down at the battlefield, he knew what those shapes were.

Aegon and his sisters descended upon the battle on their three dragons. Below the the Iron fist had broken through, that is where Aegon chose to focus his attack. Aegon raised his sword Blackfyre and roared a single word "DRACARYS."

The moment he said this, Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar unleashed a torrent of flames on the Lannister Gardener host, bathing the men in fire. Loren could hear the screams of the thousands dying, Not just Mern's men but his own. The ironfist shattered as the flames panicked their mounts and many were crushed in the styampede that ensued.

In an attempt to save his men Loren ordered his archers to loose their arrows at the dragons above. While the Dragons may be impervious to arrows, their riders were not. Visenya Targaryen was hit in the shoulder and she was forced to land to be treated. But it did little good, with the ironfist broken and the rest of their host in full retreat, Loren realized the battle was lost. With no choice left to him, King Loren Lannister raised the flag of surrender.

By the battles end, the Targaryens lost just over a thousand men mostyfrom the crushing blow from the Iron Fist and the archer. Dispite this the grand host of Lannister and Gardener suffered far greater, 10,000 men had been slain. 7,000 by dragonfire and 3,000 from arms. Among the Slain was most of the Iron fist and King Mern Gardener with all his male kin, including his sons, grandsons, brothers, cousins, uncles and nephews. This Battle effectively ended the once great line of House Gardener. This battle would be known in history as the Field of Fire

The Next Day King Loren dressed in his finest and rode out to meet Aegon. The Targaryen King stood there with his dragon Balerion behind him. King Loren dismounted took off his crown, unsheathed hos sword and placed them both at Aegon's feet."

"King Aegon," he began, "I now pledge fealty to you and your house, my sword is your and my men are yours, from this day until the end of days."

Aegon noted the former king before smiling and making an upward gesture with his hand, "Rise, then Lord Lannister, in recognition of your oath of fealty, I do this day name you Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, and Warden of the East."

With the victory at the Field of Fire, the bennermen from the Westerlands and the Reach quickly followed Loren Lannisters example. House Hightower, the rulers of Oldtown Welcomed the Targaryen's with open arms. House Tyrell, the 'loyal' stewards of House Gardener bend the knee to Aegon instantly and was appointed Lords Paramont of the Reach and Warden's of the South.

Aegon

The victory at the Field of fire was now a pleasant memory for him. In one swoop he had brought two powerful kingdom's to heel. Now he had 4 of the 7 kingdoms in the fold. Aegon had been dissappointed when he learned that Rhaenys had been unsuccessful in securing Dorne, but it mattered little to Aegon at the moment. Dorne was considered the least of the seven kingdoms and they too would be brought to heel in time. But for now it was time to rest and think. Their was still two more kings to tame and Aegon knew he needed to ready himself for this final push.

To do this he took residence in Oldtown to gather his forces, his sister Visenya was still revovering from the wound she recieved in battle. She had been lucky an inch to the left and it would have punctured a lung. Aegon had stayed at her bedside for days holding her hand.

As Aegon waited for his sister to recover, he recieved a visitor, The High Septon of the Faith. The old man was dressed in flowing robes and wore a crystal crown upon his head. It is said he had locked himself in the sept and prayed for seven days and nights before coming out and proclaiming Aegon the rightful ruler of Westeros. He annointed Aegon with holy oils as Aegon chose to Convert to the Faith of Seven

The High septon bowed as he entered the room, "good morning King Aegon, may I take a seat."

Aegon offered hin a chair which the man took, "how may I help you today your holiness."

The High Septon sat up straight. "As you must know the Faith of the Seven is the only true religion. The others are naught but false idols. The Red God, the Tree Gods, the Titans, the River Gods and yes even your gods of Valyria."

"Mind your tongue old man," Aegon growled, "I may have converted to the Faith but I will not permit you to insult the gods of my people."

"Of course," The high Septon evaded any apology much to Aegon's annoyance. "My point is, your invasion is not only political but also spiritual, Four thousand sof years the barbaric North and Troyad have prevented us from spreading our faith to every part pf westeros. For too long they committed blasphemy's and atrocities beyond count. Despite our best effort they continue to practice their heathen ways with no repentance."

Aergon smirked, "If they are so terrible, they why do the gods you claim are true refuse to strike them down like the 'heathens' they are."

The High Septon frowned "It is not out place to question the gods least of all yours. The crone had shown us they way, you are the one who is destined to bring the Houses of Blackreyne ans Stark to heel. Once that had happened we can spread the word of the faith freely without persecusion."

Aegon now understood, "so you want me to destory your enemies for you, and what do I get in return."

The High Septon smiled, "a great holy army, help us in this righteous crusade amnd every sword of the Faith will be at your beck and call."