Stannis Baratheon looked down upon the hive of activity that was the Winterfell courtyard from his vantage point on the balcony. As was commonplace, he had a scowl across his face as he took stock of the situation he was in. His stern demeanour was a direct result of some of the people that took shelter in his new base. It had been a great military achievement to win the castle against such a fierce Bolton stranglehold but he was worried that it had come at a cost. His eyes focused on Jaime Lannister walking through the yard, dressed in a wool cloak he had discovered in an abandoned room. He was discussing something with the swellsword who appeared to be his closest friend, or at least ally. Stannis hadn't yet bothered to learn his name. All he cared about was that a Lannister was in his midst, in his camp. Jaime had obviously reassured him of his lack of allegiance with his family but words were a cheap commodity, especially when being given by a lion. Only time would tell if he spoke something close to the truth and Stannis was waiting to see whether his actions matched his promises.
Despite those worries, it had been a relatively smooth transition into Winterfell. The camps outside the castle grounds, where traders and families would once frequent when harsh winters were on their way, provided plenty of room for his men, as well as the wildling population. He was surprised at how harmonious the mixing of the two groups of people had been; after fighting side by side, they must have found it easier to get along and put up with one another. There were still the occasional brawls, often between drunken men wanting to show off like alpha males in a pack of wild animals. There was a time when he would have let such fights take their course, allowing one man to slay the other. He would have seen it as a way of removing one small slice of ill discipline. But now, when he caught wind of something happening, he would quickly send a few men over to stop it before it got out of hand. He knew that they needed as many men alive as possible to face what approached them.
He heard footsteps on the wooden stairs nearest him and turned his head in the direction of the noise. Mance Rayder, closely followed by Melisandre, was walking up them. They bore both equally grim expressions, which didn't improve his mood at the slightest. Mance looked ragged, his hair a lot longer than it had been when they first met. Melisandre however, managed to still look refined in her red dress, its opening at the chest accentuated by the necklace she always wore. He had once asked her where it had come from but she had quickly changed the subject; since then, it had always peaked his interest. She had a forlorn expression on her face, telling him he was about to receive some bad news.
"What is it?" His brusk question was directed at the red haired woman but it was Mance who answered.
"There's been some developments to the north and south of us. We received letters by raven this morning. The Night's Watch say they're growing concerned about the Wall, claim that cracks are beginning to show. They fear that it's only time before it weakens so much that it'll collapse. They write ahead of their arrival here. Thorne has seen fit for them to leave their posts and set up a better defence here."
"Fucking cowards, the lot of them. And it means more men here to control, feed and provide shelter for. We're already stretching supplies."
"You forget that a lot of the people who will come are Wildling women and children. They need protecting more so, if they are correct in their concerns, then their decision should be the right one."
"I understand that you worry for your people but this is war. A war like no other, I'm told, so the expectation of tragedy has been increased in its likelihood. Spending time mulling over the safety of people who can't hold a sword and offer some sort of beneficial addition to our number is frankly a waste of time."
"I hope you change your mindset by the time that they get here. Or you can explain to them why they have to face such a threat on their own." Mance stormed off as he finished his sentence. During their frequent discussions, they often butted heads over differing opinions but they always managed to find a compromise eventually. Stannis wouldn't turn them away right away, he just needed Mance to realise that his perfect ideals of cooperation between their two peoples didn't fit properly in the scenario they were in.
He glanced at the woman that remained with him on the balcony. "If the warning is true, Snow's mission is even more important. And he has less time to complete it."
"That was the other letter that arrived this morning, from the Stark boy."
"More bad news, I'm guessing. Did they crash their ship into a bunch of rocks?"
"It was actually a positive report. He writes that the Targaryen girl was quick to agree to give us the dragonglass. And that she will fight beside us with her own men in the Great War." That was a surprise to Stannis and it visibly showed on his face. It was almost too easy.
"Why would she agree though? She doesn't have anything to gain from this. She'll lose men if she fights with us, and a lot of them."
"She is not so naive. She will know that her reputation will be enhanced if she is on the winning side against death. And she will have access to a larger sum of men after this war."
"They are my men."
"Be that as it may, by agreeing this alliance, you both share each other's resources. They will be her men as much as they are yours. Giving you a better chance of winning the throne you both desire."
"If we survive this ordeal. And your gods...what do they say about all this?"
"There whispers seem to be getting louder in the flames. The Prince that was Promised is still you - it is your destiny to fight against and defeat the encroaching darkness. But now other factors are entering the mix and other forces are at play, with their own destinies. The girl born in flames who brings with her Winter."
xxxxxxxxxx
The council room of Dragonstone was full with people as Bruda ambled over to the corner of the room. A large map of Westeros acted as the centrepiece of the place, a table used by the Lords of the castle before them to strategise their next steps. That was what they were doing now. Bruda watched the sea churn below them, the large opening where a wall should be letting the salty air swirl around them. Daenerys was at the head of the table, her hands placed palm down on it. She was in a deep discussion with Jorah about something Bruda couldn't hear. Tyrion would occasionally add his own inputs into their conversation but mainly listened to what they were saying. Varys, just like the spider he was, kept to the shadows in the room, observing the people in the room. When his eyes settled on the warlock, he was sent a wink, acknowledging how Bruda was observing him just as closely. Jon and Davos were keeping to themselves by the right hand side of the map, waiting for Daenerys to start the discussion. Selmy stood by the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as always. If you didn't look properly, you might be wont to think he was a statue he was that still. A perfect guard. Even Daario was there, which surprised the old man. He had barely stepped foot in the castle since their arrival, meaning that whatever Daenerys had to say involved him somehow.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," she said to the group, looking at each individual. Bruda didn't understand why she gazed at him for a longer time than the others, or why her look was so questioning towards him. "I just wanted you all here so we could discuss how we set out the next phase of our plans."
Jon stepped forward, closer to the table, and pointed at a group of wooden coins on the map. "Stannis is managing to maintain his force at Winterfell for the time being. The only issue is the Night's Watch." He moved his hand to another set of tokens further up on the table. "I received a letter back from Mance - he says that they're leaving the Wall."
Tyrion looked confused at that. "The men of the Night's Watch swear an oath to stand guard there no matter what's happening. How can they just leave?"
"The Wall is crumbling. Communication from the East Watch has been non-existent for the past three days and they're not risking sending any of their men over there to scout the area. They feel that they can form a better defence with us at Winterfell." Daenerys again locked eyes with Bruda - it was as he said, everyone slowly being dragged to that castle.
"Well at least that means we only have to send the dragonglass to one place. How is the excavation process going?"
"Smoothly, so far, my Queen," Jorah answered. "Me and Bruda have been taking shifts down by the caves as the men work. It's difficult work getting past the first layer of rock but they're making good progress. We've already started loading the ships, they should be ready to sail ahead of us no more than a couple of days."
"Good, good. Daario, I invited you up here to make sure our ships are up for the journey to Westeros. Being weighed down by what has been mined, I was wondering whether it might affect their durability."
"There are no worries...my Queen." Bruda noticed the slight hesitation. "We have enough ships to spread the load out. They'll cope quite easily."
"Won't we be losing a lot of men travelling with these ships, leaving us unprotected?" Davos asked the collection of people.
"The threat of an attack is unlikely right now, which is why we're taking this risk," Tyrion responded. "King's Landing is in a state of disarray at the moment as they prepare for the execution of my sister. They have no way of knowing that we're here either and any focus they have on starting a war will be directed at Winterfell for the time being."
"We're travelling separately to the larger fleet so we don't attract too much attention," Daenerys continued. "The longer they don't know that I'm here, the better. We're leaving ourselves at the mercy of those usurpers whilst we fight another enemy. Every precaution is being taken to minimise their threat."
She turned to the warlock who had been watching the conversation intently. "Anything you'd like to add?"
Again, he was surprised at the frostiness in her voice. He'd have to have a word with her at some point in the future to see what was concerning her. "Just a reminder that we have four dragons to watch over during this journey. If we are to be noticed, it will be because of them. Maybe it would be easier if Archmaester Marwyn went ahead with the initial ships to Winterfell with the smallest dragon. It's a liability in this situation and a distraction we don't need. And it's currently small enough to travel on the ship, and not have to fly above it. By the time we leave, that might not be the case, giving us something else to worry about."
"I'm sure he'll comply. Would you have a word with him Jon, seeing as he came with your friend?" Daenerys asked the Stark boy.
"Of course, my Queen." Daenerys raised her eyebrows slightly at his words. It had been a few days since they had arrived at Dragonstone and that was the first time he had addressed her in such a way. It was certainly progress and would help her in dealing with the Baratheon ruler.
"Then that is all we have to discuss for now." Everyone began to shuffle out of the room one by one. Daenerys stayed at the head of the table, watching them as they left. She didn't fail to notice Bruda pulling Daario aside before he went through the door and the two of them having a whispered conversation. She needed to get her thoughts off her chest.
xxxxxxxxxx
As the gentle breeze swept her blonde hair, Daenerys made her way onto the beach at the foot of Dragonstone. She was dressed in a fine leather outfit that kept her warm despite the surrounding cold. She gently stroked the white dragon clasp that kept her cloak attached to the rest of her clothes. She watched as men, both hers and those brought by Stannis's advisors, carried and moved pieces of dragonglass of varying sizes from the cave system and onto the waiting ships in the bay. She was pleased to see a quiet efficiency going on since she wanted the process to happen as fast as possible. She wanted to be able to get to Winterfell soon. Her eyes soon drifted to a person standing off to one side from the busy activity; her target.
Bruda knew she was approaching before she got to him. He had been expecting her to want to talk to him after the way she had acted around him before. He guessed Jorah had told her where he would be since he was weak-willed when it came to her. He smiled at her as she sidled up next to him but only received a small one in return. He didn't know why her demeanour towards him had changed so suddenly but he wanted to rectify the issue.
"A pleasure to see you as always Daenerys." They both stood watching the excavation happen.
"I came down to see how the process was going," she responded. No exchange of pleasantries, he noted.
"It's going as smooth as we'd hoped. There's just a lot in there and we may as well get all of it out. Better safe than sorry, if you ask me." This time she didn't respond, prompting him to stroke his beard in a tired fashion. "Have I done something wrong?" She looked at him when asked the question, her eyes appearing to search his for answers he didn't know yet. "I know you didn't come all the way down here just to see how this work is proceeding."
She didn't know what words to use. He had been by her side for so long now but her concerns had grown too much recently. She didn't know whether it was because she was so close to what she had dreamt about now or because she was about to face an enemy more powerful than she had ever witnessed. Bruda just seemed to know too much for her liking.
"What do you know, Bruda?" came the reply at last. It took a lot of effort for her to let the words escape her mouth.
"Know about what? I know about lots of things, which is why you keep me around."
"It's just...the way you speak sometimes. Like you know what's going to happen with this war. It's unsettling me. You can't possibly know but you say that something will happen at Winterfell."
"I don't know what will happen in the coming months. I don't know whether we will win or lose the battle. I can't see into the future if that's what you want to know."
"So how can you be so sure about Winterfell?" She wanted to believe him so much but something wasn't right about him and the war to come.
"It's just that gut feeling I have. Like when I chose to join you in your mission. Do you know the Stark words?"
"I think you've said them before now." She was confused at his sudden change in topic.
"That's all I know for sure what is truth. Winter is coming. I'm just hoping that people find out what that really means before the end."
"Tell me. What does it mean?" He looked at her as if he wanted to say something more but he stopped himself to her annoyance.
"I can't tell you. The time isn't right. All I'll say for now is that names are interesting things. If we look deep enough, they can reveal the truth about a person. I hope you remember that because it will make it easier for you in the future to accept what is to come." She hated when he spoke in riddles, which he so often did. Although she did enjoy the glint in his eye when he spoke that way; it seemed to make him look younger. She realised that she would get no more out of him on that topic but she had plenty to think about now.
"I saw you talking to Daario before, in the council room." Another mystery she wanted to solve.
"I thought you would. You never miss a thing, do you?" She noted the warm praise in his voice as if he was a father talking to his daughter. She'd never experienced that.
"What were you talking about?" He'd never freely give her answers unless she asked the questions.
"I was just taking a precaution. I'm hoping it won't be needed but it's better to have it there. And before you ask, I'm not telling you what it is because you'll worry when you have too much to think about as it is. It's my job to take on your safety." Surprising herself, she accepted his response without question. She gave him a small nod as they looked back out to sea. He looked at her once again, the lines in his face more apparent than usual as he thought back on all the queries she had. He didn't want to think about what he would have to do.
"I should be going. Jorah will wonder why I've been with you for so long."
"Tell him I've simply been ravishing you right here on the beach. And then quickly detail to me his expression." She lightly hit his shoulder in rebuttal. He saw a small smile that lit up her face and soon he allowed one to grace his features as well. She began to walk off but he grabbed her softly by the arm to stop her. "I hope you realise that I would never do anything to hurt you Daenerys. Do you still trust me? Because otherwise, you should let me leave now."
She looked him in the eyes intently for a moment and, despite all the concerns she had, she just knew he was invaluable to her. If he did know things, then she presumed it would help her in the future. And, in that moment, looking at the old man in front of her, she realised that she still trusted him.
xxxxxxxxxx
Tommen, wearing the gold crown of the King of Westeros, sat at the head of the council table. On his right, sat his true love and queen, Margaery, resplendent in a dark green dress. On his left sat his hand, his uncle Kevan, who had been a valuable advisor due to his experience working with Tywin Lannister. Next Margaery was her grandmother Olenna, who often sat on his council to give an insight into her politically keen eye. Opposite her was the High Septon, who, even when visiting the palace, still wore his grey rags. The furthest away from his was Grandmaester Pycelle, who often rambled on end in these sorts of meetings, always wanting to convince the king to take a calmer approach, much to the anger of the members of the council. Tommen noted how small his council actually was in comparison to what his father had but he didn't worry about it. He had enough to rule adequately and a smaller group meant there was little chance of betrayal. In that regard, he was thankful that the likes of Varys the Spider and Petyr Baelish had left the capital, both disappearing as if they were made of smoke and nothing else. Yet that probably meant they were whispering in the ears of his enemies, which angered him greatly. It was if they were insulting him with their mere existence.
They had been sitting at the table for a while now, discussing small matters, the finer details of running the kingdom on a day to day basis. What Tommen wanted to get to were the more interesting decisions he had to make and the fact that he had been instructed by his uncle Kevan to call the council had got his hopes up that that would be the case today. Ever since he had convicted his mother, he had felt himself grow into his position of high power and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He was no longer the little boy that had been in the shadows all his life, the toy to be beaten up by his brother, the puppet to be played by his mother. The thought made him speak up.
"What is the situation with my mother? It has been a few days since her trial." He was impatient to see her godforsaken soul leave this existence.
"Her execution is due to take place the morning after next," the High Septon answered him. "It will take place on the steps of the Great Sept to show the people that Crown and Faith are together as one to bring in the new regime." Tommen nodded his head, knowing he could wait that long to see it happen.
"There is grave news though, your Grace," Kevan Lannister said. He was always the bearer of bad news. "As you know, Stannis Baratheon captured Winterfell from Roose Bolton, a close ally to our family. With him in place, we needn't worry about the North but now...it is uncertain."
"Then we should send our finest men to root those poisonous weeds and make them an example to everyone about what happens to those who challenge me," came the quick reply.
"It isn't that simple. Because there is something else. Pycelle received a letter this morning from someone at Dragonstone. Daenerys Targaryen now sits there and we presume her intentions are to take the throne." Tommen's hands clenched the table, his knuckles turning white.
"Two challengers to my power. Surely we have enough men to split them in half and easily plough through these two."
"Not at the moment. The Targaryen girl is said to have amassed an army the size we have rarely seen, supported by the Golden Company. And Stannis has made sure the Bolton men that survived became a part of his army, boosting his numbers. If we are to take them on, you would have to choose one to target first. But that isn't the worst part. The letter claims that they have agreed to an alliance, saying that they plan to work together to take the capital from you."
"Which means it is of paramount importance that you choose one of them to target and take the action necessary soon," Olenna inputted.
"Who should I pick?"
"The peculiar thing with Stannis," Kevan answered, " is that, although he has amassed an army at Winterfell, he has made no move to turn his attentions south for the time being. He probably took a heavy hit during the battle so is unable to properly attack us right now."
"So the Targaryen girl it is. We'll need more men though, I presume."
"Exactly." This time it was Margaery who spoke. "Which is why House Tyrell will send a third of our men." Tommen stroked her hand in a thankful gesture.
"You are correct," his uncle continued. "When we received the letter, we sent out discreet notices to our allies. They were quick to reply. House Frey, who have turned away from the Starks, who line themselves with the Targaryen girl it seems, have committed to sending men, as have the Tarlys. Ser Randall has even said he will lead his men, which is a great honour and a sign of his commitment."
"We were stuck however with how we would get this number of men to Dragonstone since we don't have many ships of our own," Olenna continued. "But we have been given a proposition by Euron Greyjoy, who recently was named leader of the Iron Islands. He claims that his niece and nephew betrayed him and have sided with Stannis and so he wants to align himself with us so he can enact his revenge."
"Which gives us the ships we need," Tommen finished as if he had come up with all by himself. He enjoyed how it had come together so easily.
"We just need your approval and then this can all take place, and you will be down one enemy." His Hand already knew what the answer would be though.
"Send the word. I want it done as soon as possible. I want them to arrive at Dragonstone and to leave without a single brick left standing. House Targaryen will be no more."
At the end of the table, Pycelle, who hadn't said anything during the meeting when it had taken its dramatic turn, messed with his hands in panic. This wasn't the way forward and it would eventually leave the Realm in ruins. He needed to write a letter.