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Preface:

Some people see chaos as a pit.

She met the Starry Septon himself, descending the very same steps she was walking up to speak with her father. The portly man walked with that grace practiced preachers had to them, the acquired kind, not the natural one. His dress consisted of the typical robes of cloth-of-gold and the crystalline circlet on his brow beautiful, delicate and elaborate. Completing his outfit was his ever-present kind, grandfatherly smile. The word humble could not be farther a descriptive word in her mind at the sight.

Still she curtsied politely as she made room for him and the man passed her. Malora looked after him for a second. The Starry Septon rarely sought out her father on his own, and if he did, he was received on the ground floor. All of Westeros did not follow convention anymore though, it seemed. Not just the people, Malora knew.

That was also the reason Malora entered Leyton Hightower's quarters. Not matters of faith, or maybe they were. Malora did not care a whit for the Seven-Pointed Star ever since sweet Jeyne was the first to claim her lips, and her studies set her farther apart the more she learned. Still, it always served to know of the movements of the important septons.

Malora herself did not generally regard the septons' assembly as nice bedfellows and knew the sentiment was returned in kind, largely due to her reputation. If the septon's knew the truth of her Malora was quite certain the general disdain would turn particular. However, her house was deeply entrenched with both the Citadel and the Starry Sept, more so since Alicent's reign. House Hightower would never be able to escape the shackles the Queen in Chains had fettered them in, forever to remain in their station after the folly of Otto Hightower and his daughter.

Standing quietly in the entrance Malora watched as her father kneaded his forehead in thought. She knew the Lord Hightower would impart important information as he saw fit. She was his favorite, and she knew how he valued her opinion. Still, she did not expect the words that finally came forth from her father's lips. It seemed her own matter would have to wait.

"There is a new jape circulating in the Capital. 'Queen Rhaella has turned most devout.' The king's court finds it laughable that the Queen makes the walk to the Great Sept daily to pray."

Malora had only kept little abreast with information on the queen. Even before Duskendale she had little influence in Court. She knew her basic profile, of course. However, she did not understand the almost pained look creasing her father's brow. When she answered Malora urged her father for more information, to see the bigger picture.

"It does seem curious, father. After all, it is widely known that the High Septon is one of the few people in Aerys' inner circle of sycophants. Our king believes, after all, he has the man to thank for the birth of his favorite son. Queen Rhaella has not been known to be particularly pious since."

Malora was old enough to remember the expectations people had of the queen before she retreated into the confines of the palace. Those used to belong more to the political part of Targaryen rule, not the clerical aspects. All ruined, within a few years of being Aerys' sister-wife, relegated to a position of no import at court. Leyton Hightower looked at his daughter in contemplation before picking up where he left off.

"That is true, but nowadays one is not often in danger of meeting the High Septon in his rightful seat of power. A disconnect has developed between the Voice of the Seven on Earth and his followers in King's Landing since the Queen has birthed a second son. The Shepherd of the Faithful has proven himself to be more sheep himself. Now the Queen marches into the Great Sept and prays with septons of power to the gods. She prays to all the Seven."

Just a little did Malora feel herself tumble at the words.

"To all Seven?" She hated how haltingly the sound of her voice came out. "Even to the Stranger?"

"Even to the Stranger."

Her father's answer was most solemn. Prayers to the Stranger were either prayers for death or, for people in the know, secluded talks with the movers and shakers of the clergy. But Targaryens rarely bandied with septons that did not wear the crystal crown; they had taken too much care to neuter the political arm of the Faith to risk involving them again. Officially, of course.

"How do you know, father?"

"Septons at the Great Sept hail from all over the country. The high clergy in each of the centers of the Faith know roughly what happens in the sanctums of the other big septs. I do believe Olenna Tyrell will be approached by a septon herself, as will the Martells and the Arryns. Or Lady Waynwood, in case of the Eyrie. It is one of the few aspects of the game were the Great Lion cannot meddle, for he has alienated both players and pawns. Still, the Starry Sept has the deepest roots if a new fight for dominance of the Faith breaks out."

"Does it really look that bleak?"

"The king is burning people, Malora, and the High Septon remains quiet. The Most Devout conspire with the queen in unseen corners of the sept no one dares to look; but nobody knows what about. You know Oldtown still resents Baelor for moving the seat of the High Septon to the capital. How he made the office itself more reliant on royal support, even if the idiot probably did not think thus in his delusions. The Starry Sept expects worse than a struggle for dominance, though, they expect the Faith to fracture into separate sects.

"The Starry Septon approached me today for support in case of this, to help reestablish Oldtown as the center of the Faith in the Reach over Highgarden. He knows Olenna will try for every advantage in her precarious position right now and use up her pet septon. However, the Starry Septon is a fool and he is grossly misjudging my priorities if he believes my starting gamble will be for dominance in a smaller splinter of the Faith. We need the Faith to remain united throughout Westeros."

Malora looked at her father uncertain. Her own relationship with septons throughout her life left her with a lot of prejudice she knew, however, she was of the firm belief that a disunited Faith would be a boon to the nobles throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The Starry Sept would be more reliant on the High Tower and truthfully, Highgarden would not be able to usurp Oldtown as the center of the Faith in the Reach. But her father was worried. There was more to this than she knew. She only had to ask.

"Would we not come out ahead if the Faith fractured? The Starry Sept will probably become the dominant clerical center for the Reach, the Westerlands and a part of the Riverlands and the Stormlands all the while the clergy itself would be weakened against our influence due to their diminished prestige."

Her father laughed, but it was a hollow thing. He poured himself a cup of Dornish strongwine, a vice he hid from his fellow Reachers, and drained the red in one go before rising his word again.

"It will take but two generations, I am sure, until at least the Arryns will refound the Swords and the Stars. Their line holds the most sway over the faithful through blood alone. Combine that with a more conservative mindset of their flock and the threat of heathen clans' men and the Faith Militant will seem a sensible solution in the Vale. Sunspear will separate entirely from King's Landing and Oldtown, their allegiance to the High Septon has been lip service even before Nymeria landed in Dorne. And then both King's Landing and Oldtown will have to follow with their own chapters if we do not want to see ourselves outnumbered. There are no dragons to cow the septons into submission anymore."

"What do you think the other big houses and septs will do?"

A blunt question, but her father liked those usually. Malora though did not like the answering sigh, and the words that followed even less.

"I do not know, Malora. There have been little birds, recently, that sang to me. It made me wary. The Spider has approached me and the Starry Sept, to warn us of an unpredictable Queen going rogue. Insinuations about the Faith Militant were made, even, and no one is certain where Rhaella's loyalties lie now."

Leyton Hightower breathed out again, long and flat before continuing.

"Of course it was all framed carefully and it included valuable information, but the eunuch's motives are suspect. I do not think he has enough of an insight yet into the strings between the Faith and the Highborn. Still, the spider has never moved so sloppily before. Something has him frantic, and that in itself is worthy of concern.

"The Targaryens will lose the lords' allegiance as soon as they allow a centralized religious order in Westeros to be reestablished. The North and the Iron Islands would secede from the crown immediately and Dorne would follow in short order. Afterwards rebellions would run rampant and at least Tywin Lannister would split as well. I do not understand why the spymaster of the king is telling such a bold lie that would set the lords against the crown. It does not make sense."

"You know, father," Malora started, "Olenna once cautioned me against ever underestimating Rhaella Targaryen just because she has retreated from the game herself. I have lapsed in that, but as you say there is no way in all of the seven hells that the reestablishment of the Faith Militant would ever be a considerable option for our Targaryen queen. Even our king would find his throat slit if he crossed that breaking point, and as you said, he's burning people already. Varys is either compromised or we will finally see what his cards are in the game of thrones. That's a positive, isn't it?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes," Leyton Hightower replied with half-closed eyes and a deep sat frown, "only that it is now to be suspected that Varys is the agent of an Essosi faction and is trying to intensify the coming war. During the Dance the Triarchy's fleet was only defeated thanks to dragons. Those are gone, still no Essosi party would stand to extract gains from Westeros as long as it stands united.

"Varys is reacting to fast to all these developments. The Wedding that Never Was has only been two weeks ago yet spider is already stirring the pot. Either he has been working to destabilize the crown ever since he came into Aerys' service to incite a maximum amount of chaos or he has been actively working towards a civil war. Either option is terrible. The only thing we know for sure is that the crown's intelligence is severely compromised, both on Aerys' and on Rhaegar's side."

Malora did not know how to reply to that. However, as horrible as all the news were, Malora knew her own message might prove to carry consequences reaching even farther.

"Father, I need to join the ships going east."

Malora did not mince words with the Lord of the High Tower. She never did, not with her father nor anyone else. Leyton Hightower might have been startled by the sudden shift in topics, Malora could not tell. Quickly a small smile spread across his face,

"What has you so interested in Essos suddenly, daughter?"

Her father seemed bemused as ever at his daughter's candidness even as it scared suitors away left and right. It did not matter to him, for he had enough other daughters to play as beautiful ladies and to marry lords and heirs dutifully.

"Academic curiosity."

Malora knew there was a smile on her lips as well as she spoke, but Leyton Hightower was one of the few people she could truly be herself around. There were scant few of those. Her father did reward her with his rumbling chuckle. Even though Malora knew she was the favorite daughter, all of Leyton's children had been spoiled by his kindness, all ten of them.

"Come now. Does Marwyn not manage to keep your attention anymore with the wonders he has here?"

"Actually," Malora replied, "those wonders are the reason both he and I plan to travel east. You know the glass candles in the Citadel have shattered. A report from the Wall has us concerned. We believe we might find out more at the place where magic is still felt most keenly as to why that happened, and if it occurred across all of Planetos."

It had happened over a fortnight ago and for the first time in years had brought attention again to the most discredited subject of study in the Citadel. The glass candles were the only tangible magical object the bulk of the students ever came in contact with, obviously it would create an uproar if the ancient workings just… imploded.

Her father observed Malora in thought for just a second before answering.

"Qarth… No, Asshai. You mean to go to Asshai-by-the-Shadow."

She'd had her father's attention the moment she'd entered, but now Malora was scrutinized intensely by Leyton Hightower.

"Yes, father. First to Qarth, then further to Asshai."

"Why?"

The most difficult question, yet Malora did not believe her father would understand her answer in its entirety. Or its seriousness.

"You are aware of the theory Marwyn and I developed in our studies?"

Malora smiled at the fondly as she asked the question. Her father did indulge her in her masquerade as an acolyte of the higher mysteries. It was the only section of the citadel tolerant enough towards a student's need for privacy that they even let the odd disguised girl in. They were really starved for students, after all. Still, for a noblewoman of the highest stock to mix in was a rarity.

"The theory that magic is not truly dead," her father answered slowly, "merely dormant?"

"That's the one."

Malora had to gulp down the emptiness as she spoke on, the thought alone of her life's work so far leaving her trembling a little. Her father did not answer, but his gaze sharpened. There were old records in hidden in the High Tower, usually only passed on from one lord to the next, but her father had given Malora the key to all of the old libraries. Alchemy and shadow binding, spells and necromancy, the aeromancy and prophecy.

The Hightowers of old were well versed in sorcery of all kinds. The High Tower itself was structurally unsound, there was no way to build something as tall as it should. It should have been impossible. Yet just like the Wall it stood, the foundation standing on unknown bedrock and unknown magic. Just another reason her next words scared Malora so.

"Marwyn and I fear that magic is either waking up now, or truly dying."

The next day Mad Maid Malora and Marwyn the Mage stood on the prow of the earliest ship leaving for Essos.

It had taken two moons after that fateful meeting for Mellario to actually leave Sunspear. Oberyn had not been understanding of the procedure to let Mellario's kin in Norvos know of her visit in a manner that Mellario knew the Bearded Priests to intercept and understand the message was meant for them just as well.

Then again, her good-brother had been rather outraged that all correspondence and communication into and out of her home city was vetted and copied by the clergy. He was a petulant child at times, and in Mellario's eyes too indulgent a father by far. Doran had supported her way of doing things, though, so the matter was settled quickly.

Oberyn had left a soon after for Yronwood, to face Ormond Yronwood in a duel of honor and head further north after. Even the fight itself was already finished. Oberyn had disarmed his adversary and forced a surrender, his spear as clean as his sword had been in the fight against Ormond's father. The Lord of Yronwood now believed the younger of the Martell brother's proclamation of innocence. Especially seeing that the man's sword itself had been dipped in poison. Yet he had only nicked a finger and cut a shallow wound into Oberyn's leg. Her good brother had cut of his own left pinky at the dueling site when he noticed the discoloration spreading. The other wound was inflicted in the maneuver that saw Oberyn win the fight, and Lord Yronwood did provide the antidote after he submitted.

More than a moon before Mellario's departure a letter had reached Doran from Dragonstone where Oberyn met his sister before travelling on North for the wedding of Eddard Stark and Ashara Dayne. Mellario remembered the pair from that ill-fated tourney. The last she knew of was the travesty the older Stark brother had committed, and she could not imagine herself returning to the family of such a man. All she knew of Eddard Stark now, though, left her with an ever-nagging curiosity.

Apparently Oberyn could not wait to meet the Ashara and her husband-to-be either. A few letters in Elia's possession from Eddard Stark's hand had convinced her good brother that the new heir to the North was the greatest word smith in Westeros alive. The poetry samples he had included even convinced Obara to take etiquette lessons in hopes of someday finding her own prince charming.

The text Doran read only to Mellario a fortnight ago spurred them to a night of sensual debauchery she would never forget. As a result, however, Mellario dreaded ever meeting Eddard Stark in person. Still now the memories left her blushing at times. Mellario knew the quiet wolf to be a seducer beyond compare.

She would have to watch out that Quentyn did not take after his uncle and husband of his aunt's sister in all but blood. Her little boy looked up at her as she contemplated his future and nestled into her breast again.

Tyrosh was already in sight of them, a mere ten days after setting off from Sunspear. The ship they travelled on was to resemble a merchant vessel, they would part with the captain in Pentos and follow the roads to Norvos from there.

Their ship moored at the docks of the merchant's harbor, separate from the slaver's harbor that lay further out in squalor. One of the few things Mellario missed from Essos, though she despised the Tyroshi way of slavery.

In Norvos slaves were bred, not captured. They were not broken in the way of Slaver's Bay nor were they ripped from their lands by Tyroshi or Dothraki. No, Norvosi slaves knew their station growing up and were not given a reason to fear or hate their masters. No, they loved the hand that fed them. Some of the servants in Sunspear would benefit from proper training.

Mellario fixed a wig of blue to her scalp. One of the few reasons she liked Tyrosh was the chance to indulge with her more uncommon hair pieces. Another reason was their honeyfingers. Dornish cuisine included some marvelous sweets of nuts and dough, yet the Tyroshi treat was one of the few luxuries Doran imported for Mellario.

Mellario of Norvos disembarked with her son in a sling at her breast and Areo Hotah in her wake. Her guard had taken to growing his beard in Westeros and apparently grown attached, telling her in confidence he would not shave before Norvos was a day's ride away.

Doran would not understand the sense of freedom Mellario and Areo shared under his roof. She herself, while still keeping to her wigs, had let her natural hair grow unto her shoulder. She would miss it when she entered the city of her fore-fathers.

Soon enough Mellario found herself in a nice eatery at the waterfront with delighting in honeyfingers, allowing Areo to indulge with her while some of her household guards kept watch.

It was surprising, therefore, when one of her guards stepped up to Mellario to inform her there were two men that wanted to speak with her regarding her journey. Few people were supposed to know Mellario even left Dorne, for all intents and purposes she had retreated to the Water Gardens with her young son and Arianne.

The two strangers divested themselves of all weapons on her requests, even allowing for Areo to check for hidden weapons before taking a seat at her table. One seemed to be around five and twenty, the other looked no older than seven and ten. Both looked to be soldiers, though Tyrosh only kept sell swords.

The elder had a long mane of blond hair and a carefully groomed moustache, both oiled to perfection just for that extra shine. Mellario approved of the care that went into it, the man was projecting a commanding presence with his well sculpted body. His partner looked leaner and harder, less jovial, with cropped black hair and earthen eyes. The weapons they left behind was a monstrosity of a bow for the elder along with a quality sword and well maintained sword and shield for the younger.

"Greetings, my lady of Norvos and Dorne," the elder spoke as his companion remained observant, "allow me to introduce myself and my companion. I am Ser Wendel Manderly and this is Robin Flint. We are the captain and deputy of the Wolf Pack chapter in Tyrosh. Our employer reached out to us about two moons back that you might be passing through these waters and that we were to give advice regarding your route to your home city."

Mellario noticed Areo tense as the man spoke while she tried to connect the man's house to its origin. She did not know of a noble house by the name Flint, yet she remembered Manderly after a second.

"You are a long way from White Harbor, Ser," Mellario finally said, "yet I must apologize for I do not know either your company nor your friend's noble house."

A kind smile played on her lips as she waited for an answer. Robin Flint spoke first, his voice gruff with an accent more pronounced with harsh Northern tones.

"Few bother. I come from further north than White Harbor, though my father wants me to rule to the west," he said.

Wendel Manderly shot him a look as that was apparently that, before Wendel started to speak himself.

"My good friend's mother is a Flint from Widow's Watch, while his father is a Flint from Flint's Finger. Don't bother my lady, there's still more families named Flint in the North. Few to the south know Northern houses, and a little we like it that way.

"Still, more importantly, our employer advises you to travel via Myr if your destination is Norvos and avoid Pentos. Luckily more and more companies are following the call to Qohor, you can join one of them in Myr."

Areo gripped his longaxe and only stilled as Mellario raised a hand before she took a second to take in the men before her.

"Forgive me, Ser, I once again must profess I do not know much of the Wolf Pack."

The Manderly man was quick to pick up, luckily.

"A young company, in a manner of speaking, around 30 years older than the Golden Company. After the Dance of Dragons a band of Northmen started the Wolf Pack in Essos to avoid returning to a land in the throes of winter. Still, contacts were upheld with the families and many a Northman earned their spurs in our pack since. We have recruitment chapter in all the Three Daughters."

Mellario left her hand raised and Areo kept his fingers on his longaxe still."

"And your employer?"

"As I said my lady, family ties."

The fake smile on Wendel Manderly's face told her she was not going to get more out of him. Rickard Stark was a good bet and Mellario could not divine any other Northron with vested interest in Dorne's quest for allies.

"And why do you advise avoiding Pentos, good ser?"

"All I was told, my lady," Wendel answered slowly, "is that you will narrow the possibility of Illyrio Mopatis finding out about your movements should you travel from Myr."

Mellario had never heard the name. So she left her hand up.

"Illyrio Mopatis is the man that funded Varys' little birds in Westeros." Robin Flint said after a second from Wendel Manderly's side. He did not have an accent as he spoke this time. Wendel Manderly did not move a muscle in his face but still it looked like his fake smile grew.

Mellario lowered her hand slowly as she thought on the conversation thus far before turning to Robin Flint.

"Family ties, captain?"

There was a hard grin to his face as the dark haired man answered.

"My grandaunt, Arya Flint. The good mother of Rickard Stark."

Mellario inclined her head in thanks. So the Old Wolf anticipated Doran's moves. She'd need to send a message. Areo relaxed at her side.

"Thank you, captain, Ser. Send my greetings to your employer and thank Rickard Stark from the Martells. But do tell, why are more and more companies heading for Qohor?"

Wendel Manderly jumped in again.

"There is a call going around for a punitive campaign against the Dothraki, and Qohor is paying in gold. Lots of gold."

Madness. Rank Madness. What folly would lead the Qohori to battle the Dothraki once more?

Her thoughts must have shown on her face for Wendel Manderly spoke on.

"A Khal Zekko has been singling out Qohor and returns every few years to claim bounty. Already the Windblown, the Maiden's Men and the Cats have arrived at the city. We know the Bright Banners have broken camp to once more face a khalasar for Qohor. Others like the Gallant Men and the Long Lances have also signed on.

"More companies take ships north. The Stormcrows and the Stormbreakers, the Free Company and the Ragged Standard, the Iron Shields and the Men of Valor and many more have taken off. It's kept mostly quiet, but I can tell you some of them are headed for Saath."

Mellario felt herself swallow, her throat dry. Saath. Sarnor. By the shrouded god. Doran needed to be told. The conflict was to grow beyond their wildest predictions. Central Essos was bound to erupt in chaos if this information was true. Where did Saath get the coin? Were they really in charge? Another thing gnawed on Mellario, she had to ask. No way around it. Please have them go east, too.

"What of the Golden Company?"

"Oh, they are camped at Myr. They are under contract already. Nobody knows who they are contracted to, though. Another friendly advice, Lady Mellario. Avoid their encampment as well. Their current leader had kin in the Kingswood brotherhood. Maybe he was able to combine business and personal matters. It would explain why he is not following the easy money right now."

Wendel Manderly was almost jovial as he spoke of the Golden Company. The North had enmity with the crown, after all, and the Golden Company was founded on the tenants of bringing the Targaryens down. Manderly's reply offered up another question, though, so Mellario turned to captain Flint.

"Is it the same for you, captain? You would be in the field already if the Wolf Pack was following the easy money, wouldn't you? Are you combining business and pleasure? What has Rickard Stark offered you?"

The grin to Robin Flint's face reached his eyes now, but it stayed just as hard.

"My lady, I'm afraid business is calling for me again. To answer your question: My business days are done, now it's just pleasure and family obligations. We will see ourselves out."

The chairs scraped over the floor with a discordant screech as Robin Flint and his deputy rose. At the door the razor-eyed captain turned once more to say his goodbyes.

"Lady Mellario, I wish you safe travels to Norvos. I will extend your greetings to my employer and send Rickard Stark your thanks. On that note, do you also want me to send your thanks to my employer and greetings to Rickard Stark?"

Mellario sat there staring, it took a moment to sink in. The two Northmen did not wait for her reply. Mellario remained stock-still a little longer, only when Quentyn woke did she focus again. She did not know if her journey's start was fortunate or the opposite. However, Doran would need to be informed of the breadth of new information.

The sell sword companies. Qohor. Saath. The Dothraki. Rickard Stark and whoever his confidant in Essos was, their far reaching influence and intelligence. Illyrio Mopatis. The Golden Company. Her altered travel route. Bringing Norvos to their side had become just that more important.

Three days later Mellario set off for Myr as more and more questions plagued her. There was only one thing she knew now, though; Doran's predictions were off. Way off. Everything was going to be worse.

Notes:

The Chaos chapter I've written stands at 25.000+ words. That's about a fifth of this entire story.
Fuck. Me.

Therefore, I've decided to just split this chapter into 4 parts that'll be released over the next few days. This breaks my formal story build a little, because just as Pit and Ladder, I was sticking to 6 sequence parts for Chaos. Well. Now you're getting 2, 2, 1 and 1 POVs.

The split follows both character location and original POV sequencing, but it makes Chaos more easily digestable. I hope you'll enjoy the next few days of Chaos.

Now the important parts:

NEW NAME
I have decided to change the name of this series after I have finished the next chapter (22), as it will conclude phase one of the story and the title has not fit for a long time. The new title will be as follows:
The War of All Kings
What do you guys think of it?

ANACHRONISMS
As I've taken some time for research and worldbuilding in this story, I've been looking for points where I have deviated from canon in points that should have happened before Rickard reached the capital, or would jumble with the timeline of characters. I have found three and see it as my duty to list them, as it is my intention to remain as close to canon until the point of deviation as possible. If you know any other points where I am wrong canon-wise, I'd welcome a comment about it (and FYI, no, a romantic Lyanna/Rhaegar pairing is NOT canon)

-Obviously, Rickard in the original did not travel from Riverrun to KL but straight from the North. This one does not bother me much, actually.

-Oberyn should not be in Westeros. You saw him in the first Mellario chapter (and heard of him in this one), but according to canon he was in Essos during all of Robert's Rebellion. This one miffs me a little.

-In canon, Quellon's Piper wife is still alive in 283 AC. She reattaches the fingers to the hand of Pyke's maester after Balon cuts them off. In my story she's dead and soon replaced by Shella as wife of Quellon. Don't worry, her son and the maester are still in the story (not sure if they'll play a large role, if at all)

Review responses

Guest: Keanu says what?

Topone: Thanks

magnus374: Glad you like it. I've been anticipating Robert's arrival for some time. And now that Tywin's big master plan has been revealed to you guys, the readers… it is time to kill him off! Don't worry, I'm joking. Or am I? I ain't spoiling who dies and when.

Fury Joe: Thanks.

paintball530: You got it right.

SoulGamesInc: The perception is a little twisted as in the story, only about a month has passed since Brandon left the capital and you're witnessing a lot of what you're describing as "persistent bashing from his POV. He's not unbiased. He gets a lot of flak, true, but he's travelling in a party of Rickard, his former friends and a little less than Rickard's original 200 guards. All of those were almost killed due to his stupidity. They are joined by Jon Arryn and his retinue as well as Ned and Ashara. Those aren't happy with him because of the situation surrounding Ashara. And despite knowing all that, do you see Brandon the way I write him as someone who is feeling remorse for his actions? Brandon still does not recognize his actions against Ashara as really wrong, so he feels like he's being shamed without sufficient reason. His perspective is rather skewed, but that's his pivot coming up in chapter 22. Further character development as well as plot progression might fix this perception. Though your point is that Brandon is being wounded by the actions others commit against him. Would you readily forgive a person that tried to rape you and destroyed your social reputation when you escaped or did that to your significant other? Or if a person almost got you killed? Brandon's exposure feels wrong because he still denies responsibility, and as we see through his eyes, we think his thoughts. Time will lessen the amount of scorn Brandon receives, but it might also make him more receptive to the fact that some of that scorn is deserved. He is just immature at the moment, and we tend to forgive wrongdoings in those cases, even when we shouldn't. But read on what'll happen with him.

InfinityMask: Tywin's plan will unfold in chapter 21. Look forward to it. Also, the answer is, you missed something. But its hard to grasp. It might become clearer in chapter 19 and 21. Settling of Ironborn will be revealed in the future. Generally you can expect Northern lords to be as happy as if Rickard suddenly decided to integrate wildlings into the society. They'll hate it. So Rickard's gonna have to solve that. I'm not giving up spoilers on endgame for Robert, Lyanna or anyone else. But you are right. Also adorable Mya is also adorable and best dad Baratheon is best dad.

xiongmao03: Glad to hear it. Also that there are some that don't think attempted rape should be kinda forgiven after a short time. There'll be more of Victarion being Victarion in chapter 19.

Greatazuredragon: Best dad Baratheon is best dad. Glad that people like him. It galls me at times that pre-Rebellion Robert is just a younger post-Rebellion Robert in most fics. A war like the one he went through is not exactly conductive for staying sane, especially as Robert's issues with confronting personal problems and his shirking of duties becomes clear if one looks at the fact that he has not really spent time in the kingdom he's supposed to rule since the day he became its ruler when his parents died. To me he seems majorly insecure as a young man.

Guest(chapter 6): Glad to hear it.

trollzor60: Who says anything of the nine constituent regions of the Seven Kingdoms returning to seven independent kingdoms? I'd guess at least the Riverlands would balk at being reintegrated into a new Kingdom of Isles and Rivers. That's not even mentioning expansionist tendencies Lannisters, Martells or other lords may have. Stick around to find out.

Guest(chapter 7): That is a wild assumption that I would rather not contemplate. Rhaegar's got guards to hold little Lyanna down for his pleasure. Not saying it went like that, but the party composition of Rhaegar, Lyanna and the 2-3 Kingsguards was definitely not in Lyanna's favor.

Guest(chapter 11): We, as educated people with the ability to read know that men bow and women curtsy. But ignorant Ironborn who can't even read rarely tend to be versed in the manners of court. Like Dagmer. Dagmer may not know that only women curtsy. He did not grow up a flowery fuck in the Reach.

Guest(chapter 12): Tricky Ricky is tricky. I like it. Though I'm not sure Rickard would find the appellation dignified enough. A man with a beard like his should not be called Ricky, he thinks.

Guest(chapter 12): It's possible that the King Who Knelt might have burned if he didn't bend the knee. It might have been that he singlehandedly destroyed Aegon the Conqueror, vanquished his armies, tamed his dragons and then went on to conquer the whole world. Or something in between. Read my story Brothers in Blood to find out my take on it #shamelessselfpromotion

Guest(chapter 13): The Dustins breaking Willam's betrothal with Barbrey might work. If Rickard orders it from his high throne, it'd breed discontent amongst his lords. Ned, imo, might've had problems coping with the horrors of war in Robert's Rebellion in canon. I mean, he did kinda become a recluse in Winterfell. Here he's just less rigid, less broken, less solemn. Ashara helps. His education on the arts of ruling he is now getting from big daddy himself. Is Jon necessary to deal with the White Walkers? We've not heard any complete prophecies. I'm reserving my decision for that. So, they might show up still. Or they might not. Stay tuned.

Guest(chapter 14): I've decided to coin the pairing BenSei. Maybe it catches. Stay tuned to find out if it'll really end up dangerous.

Guest(chapter 14): Willas Tyrell is an odd character to focus on as the reason the show went off the rails. I mean, we haven't even met Willas in the books yet.

Guest(chapter 15): Glad I caught you by surprise. Company of the Rose, to the rescue!

Guest(chapter 16): I… did write that I find the actual plot of Romeo and Juliet rather disturbing than romantic. Exactly making your point. Doesn't change the fact that it's still held to be the epitome of romantic plays in the entire world. Despite the fact that it's a three day fling of two teenagers ending in many deaths.

cmh01: Read on to find out ;)

monkey kix ass: Updating took me some time, but what can I say? Real life stuff. Still, you're getting four chapters over the next few days, totaling 25.000+ words taken together. Glad you are enjoying the story and Ned's/Ashara's song.

Guest: He's getting a guard. But travelling Westeros seems dangerous for anyone anytime.

Player42: Why would the wildlings simply proclaim Rickard their King/Magnar? It goes against their entire culture. Also, they'd die in droves against southern cavalry. They don't even have iron weaponry. Also, integration of Free Folk and Northern culture would take centuries. And it would make Rickard a political pariah, as he wouldn't just buy mercenaries, but basically allow foreign agents to fight for on their own agenda in southern lands.

RosieDunne(chapter 11): "Oh my gosh!" Good? Bad? Hopefully good?

Ruki88(chapter 9): Glad my story can elicit such a response from you. Hope Lyanna's story in chapter 10 delivered for you. Rickard's only got two confirmed stupid children so far, as imo Ned in AGOT was simply a broken man and we just don't know much of Benjen. So I hope I can surprise you with the two youngest Stark boys.

lunacyvonklaus: You'll get 4 updates on this story over the next few days. I can't promise any schedules beyond that, sorry.

JRW123: Hope the new chapter delivers.

Guest: Not abandoned. Just RL stuff keeping me.

Bookworm5556: I'm happy that YOU'RE happy. Hope the story continues to satisfy.

TheOneThatFellTooFar: Hope the new chapter delivers on your expectations.

sure I don't care: Thanks for the praise. Hope you like the new chapter.

Literary Consumer: Glad you're liking my characters. Young Robert isn't old Robert, but sadly most fics don't bother with a distinction. People change, especially ones going through horrific rebellions. #bestdadbaratheon

00-night-eyes-00: Hope the new chapters deliver

BrentNewland: Ok. Hope you find a story that suits your tastes.

sbenteftifa: The story was never dead, yet it rises again, harder and stronger. Continue to enjoy.

-Black-Riddle-Malfoy: Thanks. Continue to enjoy

HaywireEagle: There you go.