Sunlight filtered through the small window, illuminating the clouds of dust that had settled over the course of the night. The beam of light focused itself on the face of Melisandre and her eyes began to twitch. She blinked a few times as she finally woke up, the brightness surprising her. She stretched her arms out and slowly steadied herself enough to sit up in bed, her head turning from side to side as she observed her new surroundings. She couldn't remember a lot. Bruda was back, a thought that brought a large smile to her face. She had never expected it to work even if he had planned it all before he temporarily died. He had been a bundle of energy and she had been overjoyed just to see him again. But then her vision had gone blurry and it had all gone black. That was the last thing she remembered before this moment. She looked down and realised she was not in her customary red dress, instead clad in a soft, white bed dress. Her eyes fell onto her usual dress, which was folded neatly on the table by her bed. She wondered who had gotten her out of her clothes, a hopeful smirk as she thought about the warlock being the one to do so. She glanced at the other bed in the room and noticed that it had definitely been slept in, the sheets folded over clumsily after someone got out. Her eyes then fell upon the cloak on a chair by the side of it and her thoughts turned to Bruda again, worrying about the reasons why he would have had to have been in here too. He was obviously alright now, which calmed her down slightly.
She was about to get out of bed when the door opened and Bruda stepped through, carrying what appeared to be a tray of drinks and food. His eyes widened when he saw her awake and he hurriedly placed the tray down next to where her dress was to check her temperature with the back of his hand on her forehead. After a few seconds and a satisfied nod of the head, he stood up again, picking up the tray and gently placing it on her legs. She looked at it and saw some form of hot drink and a plate full of bread and meat. It wasn't exactly revolutionary cooking but she was grateful nonetheless.
"I didn't expect you to be awake just yet," he admitted. He waved his hands in front of her eyes, causing her to become slightly dazed but she still had a smile on her face.
"And you were going to leave this here for when I woke? How would I have known who went to all this trouble for me?" He started sputtering as his cheeks took on a wonderful pink colour, which made her smile even more. Ever since being freed of the Lord's grasp, she had felt that she could smile a lot more.
"Well...I didn't think it really mattered that you knew who did it. You just need to eat something to get some energy back. How are you feeling?" He observed her carefully, happy that there was some colour in her face.
"Tired. What happened? How long have I been asleep?"
"Magical overload. Your body is becoming accustomed to a different type of magic and you stretched yourself a bit too far for your first run. It happens to the best of us, don't worry. You've been out for a few days. Starting to make me worry."
"What type of magic do I have now?" She knew that her powers weren't coming from her faith now. She noted how he said he'd been worrying about her.
"Mine," he replied simply. "Consider it a small gift. When I first planned it, it was meant to be a temporary replacement so that you could bring me back. But then...I guess it accepted you. I often have little control over what it does...or who it chooses to embrace."
"Is this your way of flirting?" she asked with a small smirk. Again, his cheeks went red as he tried to come up with an answer. He was usually so self-assured that it was nice to see him on the back foot from time to time.
"I'm not flirting!" he exclaimed, which left her feeling slightly disappointed. She tried to put it at the back of her mind. He realised how what he said sounded and wished he could take it back. It had been a long time since he had been in this position.
"Why were you in bed too?" she asked, changing the topic. She looked back to where the other bed's sheets were messed up.
"Same as you. Exhaustion. Down to using too much of my energy and after being back a short time." There was something he wasn't telling her.
"And why did you have to do that?" He looked down at the bed, avoiding her piercing gaze.
"Oh...well...you know how it is...sometimes you have to fight a dragon when things get out of hand." Melisandre's eyes widened as she somehow sat up further in bed. He instinctively moved back slightly, waiting for an explosion but she just sat there, quirking a questioning eyebrow. "Drogon was manipulated by Bran, which was possible because he was a warg. Thankfully, Jorah helped me sort the situation out and there was hardly any damage done." There were so many things she wanted to ask that it was taking a lot of energy out of her.
"Is Bran dead?" A dark yet sorrowful expression sat on his face.
"It was the only way. He betrayed all of us and was only willing to do it again." She could tell that he didn't want to talk about it so decided to take a different approach. She pretended that she had only just noticed her dress was not on her and enjoyed his reaction when he realised what she was looking at.
"So...how come I'm wearing different clothes? I was sure I was wearing that before I collapsed." How she loved it when he blushed.
"Well...yes...you were. We just thought...well I did...that you'd be more comfortable in these."
"Who changed me, Bruda?" she asked with a devilish smile. He wanted to ravish her right there in that moment.
"Um...I didn't touch anything! I wouldn't do that to you. I respect you far too much! It was all done by magic as well!"
"You do realise that you have seen me naked before," she said, leaning forward. He realised that the nightshirt was doing very little to hide her figure. He wanted to tear his eyes away from it but was strangely compelled. He was sure she was using some sort of magic.
"Well...that was different. You were willing then."
"And I'm willing now." That was all the invitation he needed as he leant forward and claimed her lips with his. It would be good to see how much energy she had back.
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The gates of Winterfell creaked open once more as an envoy rode through it. This was a pleasant arrival though as those who had fled south for their own safety were coming back after the news broke that the war had been won. Families were reunited, children running off to their fathers as they embraced, tears present in many an eye. Wives smiled and cried as they were reunited with their husbands. Yet many were not so lucky. There was an obvious sense of happiness that the battle was over but there was still the feeling of great loss. Many people were walking around the courtyard, hoping to see a familiar face return to them when one was never going to show up. Daenerys hated seeing that but she was there to show her presence, to show that she was the queen. She knew that it was a small consolation but hoped that it brought some people comfort. She'd even approached a few grieving people to have short conversations with them, in the attempt to comfort them to an extent. Those who accepted her advances were only willing to share stories of those who had died, which brought a sad smile to her face every time.
Daenerys was in the midst of one such conversation when she noticed a cart pull in and saw the recognisable face of Tyrion Lannister. She politely excused herself from the grieving woman and slowly walked over to where he was disembarking. It seemed difficult for him but she knew he wouldn't appreciate it if she tried to help. She resigned herself to staying where she was, although she let a smirk grow on her lips. Varys was much more graceful in getting out and bowed deeply when they were in front of her. She smiled brightly at Missandei who, ignoring all previous protocol, gave Daenerys a tight hug, causing the other woman to have a shocked expression on her face.
"Your Grace," Tyrion said in greeting, followed by a short bow.
"It is so good to see you all," she replied happily. "And in much better circumstances than the last time we saw each other."
"You look as splendid as ever despite going through such a horrible ordeal," Varys said. "We were all very glad to hear that you had made it through unscathed."
"Although we were devastated to hear about what happened to Warlock Bruda," Tyrion added, prompting her to look at him in confusion. That was until she remembered that she had not sent any other letters to them after her initial one, meaning they had no idea he was still alive. She was about to explain what had happened and tell them the good news when they heard a shout across the courtyard.
"Marwyn!" came the shout and she saw their eyes grow wide as they watched the warlock quickly walk through the busy open area as he searched for the maester, who was currently attempting to step down from a wooden cart. They observed the interaction, one old man helping another out, in quiet disbelief. They started walking towards them and, as they got closer, they could hear snippets from their conversation. "I have got a lot to tell you!" he was saying with exuberant enthusiasm. "You wouldn't believe the things I discovered. You'll be able to write a book! Just remember to acknowledge me when you do so." He briefly acknowledged them standing there as he walked past them, leading Marwyn towards the castle. "Oh hello! I'm glad you're back. She's too much of a handful these days with only me and Jorah keeping a watchful eye on her." He protested loudly when she playfully hit him on the arm before he continued walking away. She turned to look at the three of them, who all wore stunned expressions.
"I guess there is a lot to explain," she admitted lamely.
"I can't say I'm surprised," Varys reasoned. "He always was one to have a trick up his sleeve. I should know. We share it in common."
"But...how?" Missandei asked, wonder evident in her voice.
"Magic," Daenerys replied with a smile. It was far too complicated to go into detail and all that mattered to her was that Bruda was still alive. They knew that was the only answer they were going to get so Tyrion changed the topic to another important one.
"I know it's so soon after what happened but have you started planning your next steps at all? The longer we leave it, the more powerful Tommen will become in that he will be more protected. It wouldn't shock me if he made the walls taller out of fear."
"He could build the tallest wall and I would simply fly over it. He does not scare me at all. I have faced death and won. A child is nothing compared to that."
"A child who is scared and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his throne," Varys said urgently. "Which is why you have to approach this with extreme caution. If we can do this with minimal blood being spared, the people will gratefully cheer for you to sit upon that chair." Daenerys nodded, enjoying the image of that in her head.
"What about Stannis?" Tyrion asked. "How has he been with you lately? I know it became...tense just before we left."
"Something has changed in him. That's as much as I can tell. Maybe he has realised he needs me more than ever if he wants to get anything out of this. I was planning on calling a meeting later to discuss our strategy and your arrival gives me the perfect reason to do so. If you would be able to get that message across to those who should hear it, I would be very grateful." Varys nodded his head and he and Missandei began to walk away. Daenerys was going to do the same when she noticed Tyrion staying where he was, confusing her. "Is there something that you wish to say?" she asked, an eyebrow quirked at him. He produced a letter from his pocket and handed it to her. As she read what it said, he began to explain its contents.
"I received this from Olenna Tyrell. She's the matriarch of that House and so controls a large portion of the kingdom, specifically Highgarden. They have always been a close ally to the throne since my family claimed it and her granddaughter is currently married to the king."
"So why would she want to contact me?"
"She states that she has fallen out of interest of King Tommen and his little tantrums. Claims the power is going to his head. It's poisoning him. I'd hoped this wasn't the case but it gives you a good platform to state your case to rule. The people are growing tiresome in the capital. You may not have to shed a single drop of blood, apart from Tommen's, if we go about this correctly." He didn't enjoy talking about his nephew dying but he had chosen his side a long time ago.
"Why is she the one to be telling me this?"
"Because she has insider knowledge of what is happening inside the Red Keep since she was a part of his council until she left. And the positive thing is that he did not send her away so does not expect her to change her allegiances so easily. She wants to support you, both tactically and militarily."
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Margaery wore an extremely worried expression on her face as she read the letter that had been delivered that morning. It was bad enough that her grandmother had left her alone and isolated in the capital but it was even worse that she was now opting to support the enemy. It just didn't make sense to her - the Tyrells had always been a family that prided themselves on making smart decisions, which usually meant being politically astute. It was the reason why they had grown so close to the ruling family, as well as having a large stronghold in the kingdom. So it baffled her that Olenna Tyrell was willing to take such a huge risk in supporting these usurpers, especially because it meant Tyrell soldiers would be fighting against the Crown. If they were to lose, it would mean disaster for her family, with the king only willing to destroy any people who challenged his rule. It explained why Olenna had instructed her to tell no one, mainly those still on the council and, of course, her husband. She had to consider what her next move should be. Could she betray her family and tell the man she was falling out of love with that another faction had joined this uprising or would she risk her own safety by not divulging this secret before Tommen found out? She placed her forehead on the cold glass window she was looking out in a miserable fashion, watching a raindrop slowly make its way down the pane. The weather had definitely turned recently, as if to mirror her increasingly sombre emotions. Winter had established itself across the kingdom and it left her feeling cold, both on the outside and inside.
Olenna had even proposed that she flee back to Highgarden, just as she had done a few weeks previous. She had contemplated that idea, even starting to pack a bag with a few clothes and the basic essentials. As she had been doing that, her senses had come back to her and she had stepped back in horror at her actions. It was a stupid move and would have been a costly mistake. One she had been trained not to make. Even if she made it out of the Red Keep and then King's Landing without being noticed, which was unlikely and risked her getting killed for treason, her absence would be quickly noted. After all, she was the Queen. The city was on such a high level of alert at the moment in terms of its security and the number of guards lining the city walls, that they would quickly rule out her being taken by someone, or even killed. Which meant they'd soon reason that she had left by her own volition. It would make it obvious that the Tyrells were retracting their support for Tommen and he would not react to that in a positive way, that was for sure.
She felt a strange sort of sadness when her thoughts turned to Tommen. He had been such a pleasant young man, especially compared to his spiteful, mean spirited brother. Although she had never openly expressed such feelings, she had been extremely happy when Joffrey had been poisoned. And then equally as pleased when she found out she was to marry his quiet yet caring younger sibling. She'd had high hopes for him, mainly because he seemed manipulable, which meant she would be able to bring about some positive changes in the kingdom. She'd been prevented in doing so by his calculating mother but it had seemed things were finally turning in her favour when she had been executed. Yet the lack of pressure on him, free from the vicious grip of his family, had turned Tommen into someone he would have once despised. Like so many good men, the power had destroyed him, poisoned him as much as Joffrey had literally been. His affection for her had dissipated as he became obsessed with his security on the Throne. And the worst part was that he never listened to her, meaning any chances of her swaying him towards her decisions had vanished in an instant. He was now worse than Joffrey because everyone underestimated how much of a monster he had become.
She hurriedly packed the letter into a nearby drawer as she heard the door to her room open. Tommen casually strolled into the bedroom, noting her anxious demeanour. He could have sworn he had seen her put something away, as if she was scared to be found out. That was very interesting. He would have to remember that.
"Are you okay, my love?" he asked innocently. She almost hated how he talked to her as if he still cared. It stung more than if he simply ignored any of the pretences.
"Yes, of course, my king. I think that my grandmother's departure has just affected my morale." Tommen's expression soured.
"It's understandable. I was surprised when I heard she had left so suddenly. A real shame." He didn't sound sincere at all. Just more lies. She thought back to the letter she had just read and the traitorous words that had been written in it. She had a decision to make, right in this moment. She hesitated for a second, trying to think of what response she would choose. She needed to say something quickly.
"I presume it was just her old age. I'm afraid the body is not alone in deteriorating at such a time in life. Her body was becoming fragile. I expect a short return to home will bring back good health to her."
"We can only hope so. She is a valued member of my council." Lies. "Now walk down with me to the hall. I had a feast prepared for us. Show the people the luxury we have so they know not to challenge us." There was always an ulterior motive.
"I would be honoured." Her pleasantness made her sick when she spoke to him. He began to walk out of the room and she spared a quick glance back to the drawer. She hoped she had made the right decision.
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Once again, a large number of people had congregated in the largest room in Winterfell to try and plan what their next strategies would be. Many of them had thought the last meeting would have been their final one, the prospect of a war against the dead seemingly one that was impossible to get past. But now they had another battle to consider and one that would likely be more complicated to figure out. They would have to take into account the political nuances that were invariably involved in a coup against the king.
As usual, there was a divide across the room. Daenerys sat with Jorah, Davos nervously looking around as he took a seat near them. Jon, as acting head of Winterfell whilst Sansa got back to comforts in the castle, was also there, almost enjoying the fact that this didn't really concern him, even though he cared about the wellbeing of Daenerys and her group of advisors. Tyrion and Varys sat either side of Daenerys and Jorah, hoping to offer balanced advice to their queen. They kept shooting cautious glances at Stannis, who sat on his own on the table opposite with a scowl on his face. The space between them indicated the isolation Stannis was stuck in, down to his own actions. It was at that moment that he truly realised how he had played the game poorly, thinking he could win on his own. He saw how positive the others were, able to talk comfortably with Daenerys. He had to change his tact and he hoped this meeting would give him the chance to do so. He let his eyes turn to Melisandre, who refused to look at him after their altercation. Judging by the expression on the warlock's face, who was standing behind her with a protective hand on her shoulder, she had already told them about what had happened. It would just make his endeavours even more difficult and, again, it was all his own fault.
"Do you want to start now, your Grace?" Tyrion asked her, leaning close to whisper in her ear. She nodded her head and stood up, causing a hushed silence to fill the room. She noticed how everyone's eyes were on her, understandably, and she enjoyed the fact that it didn't faze her like it might have done when she was younger and starting this journey.
"By now you will all know that we have to strike quickly if we are to succeed in removing the false king from my rightful throne." Stannis bristled at her word choice but smartly kept his mouth shut. "I see it fit that we begin preparing to move south."
"As soon as we do, the Crown will know. The king has people hiding across the kingdom who will gladly inform him of our approach," Varys sagely warned her.
"So be it. We don't need the element of surprise. We have enough men ready to fight and we have already removed the possibility of the Golden Company joining them by having them ourselves. That's over 15,000 men, which is plenty on its own. My Lord, how many men do you have left after the war?" She directed the question at Stannis. He acknowledged the pleasantry she'd used when referring to him but knew that the phrasing firmly put him in his position; below her. She was politically intelligent and savvy, he was willing to accept that at least.
"Roughly fifteen hundred. We were decimated by the White Walkers but it's still a healthy number. Just." She nodded her head, happy that he was cooperating for the time being.
"Joined together with the men loyal to me, everyone in the kingdom will see that it's a formidable force to be reckoned with."
"That can work in our favour in another way, Daenerys," Bruda pointed out. She sent him a questioning glance.
"You do not want to be a ruler of ashes," Varys continued. "Maybe you do not need to incite war. It might be possible to make Tommen surrender."
"He would still be alive and pose a threat to my rule," she countered, focusing primarily on her potential security.
"Then you kill him," Bruda said simply. "It's the way the world works."
"But you do not want to risk the lives of all those who live in King's Landing," Jorah added from his position next to her.
"And when he finds out about our new ally...it will just force his hand even more," Tyrion said, causing the others to look at him with confused expressions, Stannis especially.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, his sour personality coming through.
"Olenna Tyrell has vowed support to our cause. That was the last barrier to get past and the door has been kindly opened for us."
"But why would she do that? The last thing I heard was that she was a main member of his council."
"I presume she realised how strong we are together," Daenerys said with a small smile. He enjoyed how she said 'we', as if they were a proper alliance, but still knew what she was doing. Trying to play him, to make him sweet.
"Are you planning on meeting with her?" Davos asked her.
"It is why I'm wanting to move now. The sooner we have finalised this deal, the sooner we can strike." She turned to Jon, the first involvement of his in the conversation. "What are the plans of the wildlings?" He gulped slightly, thinking about the decisions he'd been forced to make.
"They are planning on returning to their homes now the threat of the Night King has gone. And I will be travelling with them." That surprised everyone. "Now that Bran is...gone, I feel it right that Sansa takes control of Winterfell." Stannis' expression turned angry.
"That's interesting. Because I was sure that I'm in control of this castle, seeing as I conquered it from the Boltons."
"And I was sure that this is a Stark stronghold. Sansa is the only Stark in existence now." Not wanting this to get out of hand, Daenerys intervened, holding a hand up to stop them.
"I feel like this can be sorted by my actions. Stannis Baratheon, you will have realised that we cannot both rule at the same time. Which is why I vow to trust to you any stronghold in the kingdom you deem fit for yourself...apart from Winterfell," she added, looking at Jon. Stannis was about to speak when she stopped him again. "But only if you bend the knee."