They once again found themselves standing on the beach, something that had become a frequent action since their arrival at Dragonstone. They were watching as the ships, now fully loaded with dragonglass, were prepared for their voyage. Soldiers, a mix of Unsullied, Dothraki and Westerosi, were marching onto them. That was the part that worried Bruda. As he watched them board, he realised that the majority of their army was leaving them for the time being. With the threat of an attack minimal, Daenerys had agreed it was in their best interest to get her men on Westerosi shores as quickly as possible and so they were leaving with the bulk of their fleet. But that left them incredibly vulnerable and the warlock wasn't too sure their safety was fully secured. He had voiced his concerns to Daenerys at length the previous evening but, although she had understood where his worries were coming from, the Targaryen remained resolute in her decision. He hoped it wasn't a costly mistake for them all.
The woman in question was stood by his side, with Jorah by her other shoulder. Her face showed a mixture of emotions, encapsulating the feelings within her. Happiness because this was finally happening, her first move in taking Westeros. Yet there was also trepidation, Bruda's words ringing inside her head of the troubles that would await them across the sea.
"The first Dothraki to set foot in Westeros," she murmured to the two of them. Her voice didn't carry the happiness she should have had at such a thought. Jorah looked at her in concern.
"All because of you, Khaleesi," came his words. "They'll soon have songs for you, which will fill the air for years to come."
"If they survive the hardships I have brought down on them."
"They understand the risks they are taking. They do so because they believe in you. You cannot blame them for that. They saw a girl enter a fire and emerge unharmed followed by three dragons. They would walk to the ends of the globe for you, and have according to their previous customs. You know as much as I do of how they were once wary of crossing the sea but you allowed them to conquer that fear. You inspire hope in them, as you do me." She smiled at him as he finished, his words going a long way to soothe her restless mind.
"They'll get to Winterfell in perfect condition," Bruda said. "Well, I know some of them are still prone to a bit of sickness on the waves but that should be it. Right now you should be seeing them off as the strong ruler they see you as. The strong ruler that you are. She nodded her head and walked over to the shore, where the bulk of the Dothraki were waiting to get on small rowing boats that would take them to the main ships She spoke in their tongue as she raised her voice.
"My men, listen to your Khaleesi." Her voice carried a long way, making the others on the beach stop what they were doing. Jon observed her intently as she her addressed her army. "Today is a big day! Today marks the point when the Dothraki begin their conquest! You board these ships, not just as my men, but as my disciples. You will learn to show the kingdom of Westeros why your reputation precedes you. The people that come after you will speak your names as legends!" Her words were matched by roars from the Dothraki horde and, when she finished, they began taking their places with renewed vigour, as if each one wanted to be the first onto the ships.
Bruda leaned closer to Jorah and nudged him with his arm. "She's good, ain't she?" Jorah could only grin at her as she walked with her people.
Further down the beach, Sam and Jon were stood together as the former said his farewells to the archmaester. When Marwyn had been told it was best that he left Dragonstone with the majority of the ships, he had been surprisingly positive. He claimed that the sea air didn't suit him and the sound of waves crashing near his window at night often prevented him from sleeping properly. He was ready to get into one of the rowing boats filled with Baratheon soldiers, Hidebyo keeping close to him. The dragon was now half the size of the maester, which had surprised even Daenerys. He was definitely growing at a faster rate than was normal. Marwyn said he would look into it when they arrived at Winterfell.
Sam gently placed his right hand on the snout of the burnt orange and black creature, stroking it with care. Hidebyo appeared to nuzzle his face into the touch before he began nibbling at the fingers, much to the consternation of Sam. Marwyn let out a short laugh at the interaction.
"Take care of him for me, won't you?" Samwell asked the older man.
"I don't have much choice!" the maester exclaimed, his tone lighter than the Tarly boy had ever heard it. "You don't need to worry. I've read practically all the manuscripts written discussing dragons and how they were raised back when they were commonplace. I just hope the people at Winterfell aren't too wary of him."
"Are you alright with travelling with our men to Winterfell?" Jon asked him. "You wouldn't want to head back to the Citadel whilst you can. We wouldn't think less of you."
"Oh, boy. My life's work has contributed to many discoveries back in Old Town but I would never be able to live with myself if I stopped myself from helping in anyway that I can. Knowledge is all we have against the dead and frankly, I'm the one who has to provide it."
"You're a noble person, archmaester."
"My concerns, unlike yours Snow, are not to do with nobility." With that, and a final wave, Marwyn clambered into the small boat, Hidebyo settling in his lap and letting a small puff of smoke escape from his nostrils.
Jon and Sam walked over to where the others stood, watching the ships finally set sail. They stood in silence, the only noise being the gentle roll of the waves on the sand and the distant roars of dragons, before the fleet disappeared over the horizon.
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A horn bellowed over the sound of activity around Winterfell, announcing that a large party of people were approaching the castle gates. Stannis looked up from the desk he was sat at as heard the noise and immediately stood up. As he reached the outside, cold air biting at his face, he saw many of his men curiously heading towards the gate to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals. Stannis made his way down the steps into the main courtyard, Melisandre appearing from nowhere to fall into step with him. He barked a command to the men operating the gate and it was quickly opened, the large doors creaking as they swung inwards.
Alliser Thorne led the group of people, one of the few lucky enough to be riding on horseback. Most of the people were walking and looked beyond exhausted. Within that section was the Hound, who had opted to give his horse to a mother and child. Not that he had wanted to; Beric Dondarrion, who was slowly walking beside him, had strongly suggested that it would be the right thing to do. Sandor had been too tired to argue and had quickly disregarded the heartfelt thanks he had received from the wildlings.
Stannis carried on in his way to the front of the crowd to greet what remained of the Night's Watch. He tried to ignore the look of disdain he got from the Lord Commander.
"It appears you have arrived in one piece after your long journey, Commander," Stannis said loudly. Thorne grunted in response.
"We lost a few on the way here. But only the weakest people, who were slowing us down as it is." Most of the wildlings sent dark glares his way as he spoke and Thorne either failed to notice, or chose not to give them the time of day. Stannis didn't like how frosty the atmosphere had become.
"Could you not have spent time resting more?"
"You wouldn't stop to rest if you knew what was coming behind you. The amount of time I did allow for them to sleep could have easily seen us killed."
"From your letter, it appears that you haven't had to face this enemy yet, even though I thought that was part of your job and commitment to the Night's Watch. Just think, the first Lord Commander to disband the Watch. And they'll wonder why you did it in years to come. Because you were afraid of the cracks in the Wall." Thorne practically leapt off his horse and walked briskly towards Stannis, anger burning in his eyes. He stopped just short of the Baratheon ruler, his eyes noticing a few of his soldiers place their hands on their swords in a warning.
"I took that choice so that we could fight them in a tactically better base. You've committed to this fight just as much as I have. You need us here by your side or you will be crushed by the cold hands of death before you can blink. Question my honour again and I might be the one to bring down its hand sooner than you expected." Before Stannis could respond, a door slammed open, Mance and Tormund marching out. The leader of the wildlings had fury written all over his face. He looked towards his own people, most of them leaning on walls or slowly bringing themselves to the floor. Women, children, elderly. They all looked within an inch of their lives. He turned his gaze towards Thorne and the horse that was stood close behind him. He marched up to him, his face centimetres from the Commander's.
"That's a nice horse you have there," he began, some spittle coming out of his mouth and landing on Thorne's face. "Why is it that you gave yourself one, and my people had to walk?"
"There were a limited number of horses. And the Free Folk are accustomed to using their feet, whereas we discovered transportation a long time ago. You know we have something called the wheel now?" Thorne had a smug smile on his face as he spoke.
"You call yourself a commander...look at you. A fuckin' coward whose father never taught him about respect. If you had walked such a journey, you would have been food for the animals after three days. Look at my people. They survive. You won't for much longer."
"I treated your people with the respect they deserve. A bunch of savages. I'm surprised that they could understand the instructions I gave them."
"They'd understand the instruction of killing you if I fuckin' said it right now. Keep pushing your luck and see if I'm a liar." Stannis knew he had to interrupt the argument before the threats became carried out. The wildling men who had already been at Winterfell were sizing the Night's Watch up; the last thing they needed was casualties.
"Rayder, nothing will benefit from Thorne's head on a spike. The enemy we face will kill us all, no matter which side we were originally on. So refrain from these types of comments until the war is won. Then you can have at him." Mance reluctantly nodded before turning and storming off. Tormund snarled at Thorne, whilst slowly dragging a finger over the blade of his axe. Stannis turned his ire on the commander.
"And Thorne, speak to me like that again and I will make sure these people know which room you are sleeping in." With that, the confrontation was over and the crowd slowly began to disperse. Thorne led his men to the camps outside the ground, whilst the newly arrived wildlings went over to the rest of their people, where they were giving food and places to rest.
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Brienne had been watching the whole scene unfold from a distance. When Sandor walked past her, she noticed how he gave her a wide eyed look in recognition. She expected him to step closer to her or say something derogatory. She was giving him a similar look, since she was surprised he was still alive after their sword fight. Yet he said nothing, as if he was embarrassed about the whole situation that had happened. She turned away from his gaze but then felt a hand grasp her arm. She was glad to find that it wasn't the Hound who had her, but Jaime.
Jaime Lannister forced her towards a deserted corner in the courtyard, which was a rare thing to find amongst the busy activity of Winterfell. Brienne was confused as to why he had grabbed her so suddenly but the grave look he gave her had silenced any questions she had. The spot he directed her towards was already occupied by another man. Bronn had been instructed to wait there by Jaime a few minutes before and, for once, had done what he was told. He was leant against the wall when they approached, picking his nails with a small dagger. He looked up at their arrival, sharing a confused look with the blonde haired woman. At least he has as much a clue about what is happening as I, she thought to herself, somewhat thankful at the small blessing. They stood there looking at the former lion, Brienne wearing a wide eyed expression. She had never seen him act so cagey. He was a different person to the one who had saved her all those years ago. Yet she hoped he had changed for the better.
"Do you know the Hound? Sandor Clegane?" he asked her. The innocuous question startled her and she couldn't form a response for a few seconds. Bronn was giving him the same incredulous look.
"What? That's why you brought me here like that?" She was dumbstruck at his strange behaviour.
"No...no. I was just curious. I've never seen him look at someone like that."
"If you must know...we fought. A while ago now. I thought I'd left him for dead." Bronn let rip a bark of laughter.
"You fucking beat him in a sword fight?! Brilliant! I bet he loved that." Brienne wasn't concentrating on the swellsword's words, instead looking at Jaime's expression. He seemed to be measuring her up but now in a different light.
"I knew you were good with a sword but...wow." They stared at each other for a moment before Bronn interrupted them.
"Enough about that, even if I wish you could tell me the whole story in full detail. What's this secret meeting about? 'Cos I hope for your safety that it's not just about the fuckin' Hound." Jaime's look darkened once again.
"I was given some news. Quite a lot of news actually. It seems I was right to leave King's Landing when I did."
"Jaime, what's going on?" Brienne asked him, a slight tremble in her voice.
"Tommen has formed an alliance with the High Septon and the Faith. Cersei was put on trial a few days ago and it went as well as you can expect. She's due for execution tomorrow."
"And I thought the story I just heard would be the best thing I found out today," Bronn quipped but he shut his mouth promptly when he received a dangerous look from Jaime.
"It's not a good thing. Cersei was becoming a tyrant when I left her. Power hungry and manipulative. But she was careful. Never took risks when she didn't have to."
"What does this have to do with us right now?" Brienne questioned him.
"I'm getting to that," he replied testily. "Those qualities meant that we could predict to a certain extent what her future actions would be. How she would react to, say I don't know, a contender to the throne amassing an army at the strong point of the North. Tommen is now an unpredictable opponent, especially when he's supported by the people I'm told sit on his council."
"Which means we may have to face an attack from the North and South at the same time," Bronn suggested.
"I thought that at first, yes. But consider this. What if Tommen, presumably fuelled by the adrenaline of removing the mother he hates from the Red Keep, discovers how a new opponent has finally reached Westeros."
"Dragonstone," Brienne whispered. Her face had gone ashen.
"Exactly. According to the person who sent me this information, he was easily persuaded to target there first, which means we're safe for now at least."
"But our newly forged ally is under threat and they won't have any knowledge about this possibility happening."
"From what I've heard, they've got plenty of ships to protect themselves," Bronn pointed out to the two of them."
"Not enough to take on the Crown, seeing as they're calling all of their own allies to fight with them."
"Well, we have to tell someone. Stannis. We have to do something, otherwise we don't stand a chance of winning this war."
"I'm planning on discussing this with him right away, even though I'm not exactly his favourite person. But we're already up against it. They'll have started preparing this straight away."
"Meaning their fleet might have already set sail," Brienne concluded. "We don't have any ships. We can't get to them, even if we wanted to."
"That's where you're wrong." For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he spoke. "I think we need to go have a word with the Greyjoy girl." Their eyes lit up as they realised what he was suggesting.
"Jaime, who is the person who has been sending you all this information. It might be purposefully wrong so you direct your efforts in saving the wrong group of people. You might set off east and we're the ones who get ambushed." Brienne's concerns were definitely not unfounded.
"For some reason, I trust this person. The loyalties he had have vanished in front of him since I left."
"Why does he want to help you?"
"Because he thinks that, for the first time in my life, I will choose to do the right thing."
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The light blinded her as she was led outside the Great Sept of Baelor, her arms held tightly by members of the Kingsguard, fully covered in their armour. Whilst the sun was the first thing her senses took note of, she was then drowned by a loud chorus of boos and jeers from the eagerly awaiting crowd surrounding the entrance. The people who should be up on the platform ahead of her, suffering as she was. They deserved all this, not her. Cersei scanned the crowd and saw faces of anger, rage, disgust and hatred. As she was forced through the crowd to get to where her fate would be sealed, the citizens of King's Landing clawed at her, grabbed at her, all trying to show their spite towards her. One dirty looking man spat in her face as she walked past him. She didn't give him the satisfaction of letting him see her wipe the spittle off.
She turned her head to look at the people who would share the stage with her as she slowly walked up the steps. Those who saw it just to kill an innocent woman. The Tyrell women, standing where she had stood all that time ago when Eddard Stark had been executed. That was a strange thought; she had never expected to end up in the same position as he did. The man of honour and loyalty, the victim of this game they all played. She had outmaneuvered him back then but now the Game of Thrones had finally caught up with her.
By their side was King Tommen. He looked so regal, dressed in fine yellow silk that matched his head of hair. His golden crown glinted in the sunlight, the gods seemingly reaching down to touch their host on Earth. He gave her an impassive stare, as if she were nothing but a traitor, a woman of treason, not his own mother. His own blood. Unlike the execution she had presided over, Pycelle was not present, something that surprised her quite a bit. He was always one to be present at times and moments of great magnitude. Maybe he was hurriedly working away in his office, trying to figure out a way to stop this madness. He would come hobbling in at the last second to prove her innocence. That was it.
Instead, it was the High Septon who stood there as she was stopped at the edge of the dias. He gave her a warm smile, as if to tell her that this was the right thing to happen. The gods wanted it. Maybe he was right. Maybe this had to happen after all she had done. All she wanted now was to see Jaime one last time. But he was gone. Just like her power, her standing, and her dignity. Her voice trembled as she addressed the crowd. She had barely noticed the other onlookers stood in the balconies around the square.
"I come before you...as the victim of unjust gods." The crowd roared in displeasure at her opening words. The High Septon looked equally outraged, far gone from his warm demeanour moments ago. "You are blind to what is happening in front of you. You will never see or witness what occurs behind the walls of the Red Keep. The people in front of you only work for themselves. My death will not fix your problems. It will only worsen them."
"That is quite enough," exclaimed the High Septon, an unusual note of fury in his voice. Two guards came forward, pressing down on her shoulders to force her to her knees. "This woman, in the eyes of the gods, is a traitor to the Faith. She has lived and enjoyed a life of sin and nothing else. It has left her empty and the gods are merciful enough to let her free from these painful bonds.
She has wronged you all and King Tommen was wise enough to see through her ploys all by himself. The gods reward him with this judgement. It marks a new era in this kingdom, where we can live as one. People and nobles, Crown and Faith. The one person who stood in the way of such an idyllic existence is the woman who kneels before you." More boos and hisses filled the air as his words resonated with the blood hungry crowd. "King Tommen." The young boy waved to the people, a smug smile on his face as he looked at them. He was playing up to the crowd as Margaery had taught him the night before. He enjoyed the proud smile she gave him as he succeeded in his one job. "The gods still understand that you have a position of power, which was given to you by those very gods. As this is the case, they leave the final decision down to you. They know you will make the right and just decision." He gave him a meaningful look as he finished.
In that moment, Cersei heard nothing but silence. All she focused on was her son, the young boy thrust into this position of power through no fault of his own. He looked directly into her eyes and it suddenly all made sense to her. Tommen wasn't actually going to kill her. That was a ludicrous suggestion if there ever was one. This had all been done to show her how her actions had gone too far. He was the king now and she needed to realise that that meant he had more boundaries. He would no longer be controlled by her and, surprisingly, she was content with that. She would continue to guide him through this perilous job and the kingdom would go about its business in peace. She saw his lips move, telling the crowd that there would be no execution today. The gods had put her through this test but never planned to see her die. She smiled at Tommen, relieved.
Her mind was still full of those thoughts and fantasies as the large sword came swinging down.