In King's Landing…
Lord Tyrion stood in the Small Council chambers engaged in conversation with a Faith of the Seven clergyman – sent to Red Keep as an envoy on behalf of the Most Devout themselves. Since the revelation of Septa Unella's involvement in the Sparrow movement and being the High Sparrow's benefactor, the disgraced Unella was stripped of her position on the Faith's ruling council, excommunicated and banished from Westeros—never setting foot in the country ever again. The dwarf Hand of the King sipped his wine as the clergyman continued rattling; all while the other members of the Small Council—Varys, Pycelle, Mace, Randyll, Barristan and Trystane—simply listened.
"It simply cannot be done, my Lord Hand. The clerics are still sequestered in the consensus. By holy law if no one steps forward, then the Faith will remain leaderless and will slowly crumble. Surely the King must—" the old man sputtered before being interrupted.
"I understand your concern, we all do. But what you're asking me is something that my nephew will have to decide," Tyrion replied honestly. "Even I can't make his choices for him without his knowledge or his consent considering recent events."
"He must consider a particular candidate."
The doors were pushed open, allowing Daveth, Sansa and their children to step inside. Apparently they were strolling through the halls of the Red Keep until they heard a certain commotion emanating from inside so they chose to investigate. Tyrion and the clergyman all turned and bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
"Ah. Beloved nephew," Tyrion greeted in his humorous fashion.
Daveth rolled his eyes. "Uncle," he dryly replied.
"Ah, Your Graces. Perfect timing," the clergyman redirected his attention. "The Faith humbly inquires your opinion on—"
Mace looked up at him. "Don't you think your being a bit pushy lately?"
"What's going on here?" Sansa inquired, holding her twins' hands.
Trystane explained. "It would appear that the Most Devout simply cannot agree on a candidate to be the next High Septon. They've been arguing from dawn 'til dusk non-stop. Ever since the last one was publicly shamed and removed from office, the vacancy has caused quite a bit of a stir in the Faith's leadership."
The clergyman interjected once more. "Which is why we've made numerous requests asking for your opinion on a possible choice to fill the position of High Septon; to break the deadlock," he insisted.
"Deadlock? Are things still that bad?" the Wolf Queen asked.
Tyrion regretfully nodded. "It would appear so," his tone switched to a more positive outlook.
The Young Stag raised an eyebrow. "Then why come to me?" he pressed.
"Because of what happened with the High Sparrow and how the matter was settled, the Faith of the Seven favors you, nephew," he explained, "and thus everyone close to you. As such, they've left the decision of naming a new High Septon entirely up to you… though they didn't have the decency to even ask first."
"I'm not a Septon."
"Neither of us is," Varys chimed in, "but an endorsement from whoever sits on the Iron Throne would be seen as a public show of support; that the Crown still upholds the needs of those who need it more than oneself."
Daveth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I'll swing by the Great Sept of Baelor and see if we can get this mess sorted out before it leads to more trouble. In the meantime, my lords, if there are any other matters of state affairs of great importance then you are to notify me without delay."
"Understood, Your Grace."
—En route to the Great Sept of Baelor—
Daveth and Sansa rode through the streets to the Great Sept of Baelor; because the Queen was now four months into her pregnancy, she sat in the royal carriage with her children while Daveth rode up front accompanied by two Kingsguards, Brienne and Lucius. The smallfolk occasionally glanced at the troupe before returning to their employment or household tasks. The Young Stag glanced at a nearby hill.
'That's where the High Sparrow made his last stand,' he reminisced. "Halt."
The carriage came to a stop upon arriving at their destination. Daveth dismounted from his horse and looked on as Brienne and Lucius helped escort Sansa down the small steps of the royal carriage; young Lyonel and Cassana eagerly jumped out and proceeded to chase each other around the carriage. Sansa saw this and tried to rein them in, but her hormones occasionally caused her to have random mood swings, going from sweet and motherly to stern and strict. After all, she was dealing with a pair of two hyperactive, 2-year-old twins and is expecting her third child in another five months.
"Lyonel, Cassana," their mother called out as she chased them. "Don't run around the carriage. It's not safe. Cassana, get your brother. No, Lyonel, sto— DON'T RUN!"
She was done and was not in the mood for games; when Lyonel and Cassana heard their mother's shouting they immediately stopped playing and meekly obeyed. Sansa took a moment to calm down and regain her composure so as to resume her capability of parenting.
"Please, my little ones. You can play once we're back at the Red Keep, but not here," she told them. "Mommy and daddy want you two to be on your best behavior today. Okay?"
"Sowwy, mommy," they apologized.
Sansa accepted their apology and took them by the hands to accompany their father; Daveth felt his own headache slowly subside as his son and daughter were reigned back in. They were much more behaved this time. Knowing that all was well enough, Daveth and Sansa soon stepped forth into the Great Sept. Much had changed since then, yet somehow remained the same as well.
"Selecting a candidate to be the Seven Gods' voice on earth – even if it means picking someone outside the hierarchy," Brienne spoke softly. "The selection process sounds maddening."
"You'd think so but it's not without precedent," Daveth mentioned. "Pate was a stonemason, and another was an 8-year-old boy. Priests, non-priests… truly, though, if the Faith's trust or at least tolerance in a sovereign is high enough, I imagine they'll accept whoever the King recommends. Still… I still don't get why my word would simply make things better."
Near the steps, members of the Most Devout—Tobert, Raynard, Luceon, Russal, Moelle, Rosyn and Helicent approached them. Their newest member to fill the vacancy on their council, Laina, curtsied before them.
"Your Graces," Tobert greeted.
"It is good to see you both at the Great Sept once more. Seems like it was yesterday when you to were wed here," Rosyn concurred. "I things have been going well? Prince Lyonel and Princess Cassana are still good angels?"
'Please if only you'd know what it's like dealing with two little runts who drive you crazy at times,' the Young Stag thought. "Our son and daughter are doing well, thank you for asking. Regardless, it has come to our attention that there has been some difficulty in nominating a new High Septon?"
Raynard nodded. "Yes, as I'm sure Septon Tavion has said already. We of the Most Devout have voted, voiced our opinions… but still neither of us can come to an agreement."
"How many votes have been cast?"
"Well let's see…" Moelle pulled out a parchment scroll. "Septon Luceon leads with 96 votes, followed closely by Septon Raynard with 86 votes. Septon Javer has 73, Septon Patrack 32, Septon Auster 10, and Septon Efran 3. The majority votes need to secure the appointment set by the Most Devout is 300. So far, no one has reached the milestone and therefore we remain at an impasse."
'Then perhaps it needs to change; just not in a way that holds us back, limits our potential or stunts our growth.'
Sansa chimed in. "This cannot be what the Faith intended when it all began, no?"
Rosyn shook her head. "No I'm afraid not, but once our brothers and sisters withdraw for the consensus, it is against holy law for us to emerge without naming a new High Septon. But we aren't blind to the unfortunate truth. Normally it should take us days or weeks, sometimes even months—but the problem we're facing now is no clear worthy successor exists. Theoretically, we'll argue until exhaustion takes us or we see reason. Practically, however, if the consensus goes on too long the Faith will crumble."
"And any clergyman with ambition but little sense will see this as their one chance, and plenty of these selfish men exist," added Helicent.
"Henceforth, because you've been the first King since Baelor the Blessed to contribute to the Faith of the Seven we feel it would be best if you were to make a selection," suggested Luceon.
Daveth folded his arms and cupped his chin in his fist, occasionally feeling his stubble on his face scratching against his fingertips. So many decisions during his reign, and so many more to follow suite… Now although he follows the Faith of the Seven religion, he wasn't particularly a religious person—let alone a devout one. Religion has its place in society, but it did not govern his life.
'No worthy successor exists, does it? Then you haven't looked hard enough,' Daveth thought. "Then therein lies the problem," he said aloud.
The Most Devout looked confused. "Your Grace?" they implored.
He turned to look at them. "The gridlock, politicking… Such notions allowed elements like the High Sparrow to rise up and attempt to seize power. Perhaps that's how it started. Such corrupt self-serving men who puts himself ahead of his flock is no shepherd at all. Perhaps we've simply forgotten and lost our way."
Sansa listened closely and chimed in as well. "The Father sits in judgment of us all; we pray to the Crone for wisdom and guidance. When the former High Septon disgraced his office, when the High Sparrow sought to twist and perverse the Faith's tenants to suit his own ambitions, it only goes to show that such men are more valuable to anger or passion. But in truth such restrictions are simply political that allowed our customs to grow corrupt and Faith's practice little more than a façade. For centuries the institution was pulled in every direction by those who would steer its course."
"Which is why Westeros will require change… starting from the top and build on that. The Faith will need someone to lead its devout flock to a new, brighter future—and show them that no matter who we are or where we came from, we are the same," Daveth reminded them. "A new High Septon should encourage the good in us all despite our shortcomings. Should we stumble or stray, the Faith will need a gentle hand to show the way by example."
"Take a lot at me for instance, Your Reverences. I am a Stark, a Northern family which worships the Old Gods. My mother is a Tully by birth who firmly believes in the New Gods, yet Septa Mordane taught me and my brothers and sister to understand both sides and seek balance between them—not exclude them or look down upon as 'uncivilized savages.' The new Faith of the Seven should serve as a beacon of hope for all its people, not just a select few. To be a force for good, instead of what it is. No one is without worth."
"If we allow the wheel to preserve things in motion the way it is now, then no true progress will ever be made. It'll just be more of the same—a cycle that will see no end unless we make it."
The Most Devout began murmuring among themselves; mostly in confusion and at a loss. Daveth and Sansa stood side by side as if hoping their message got across to them. After some topic, they redirected their attention back to the King and Queen.
"Then… do you have a… candidate in mind? To break the deadlock?" asked Raynard.
Daveth nodded. "We do," he answered and turned to one in particular. "The Crown supports Septa Rosyn as a candidate to lead the Faith of the Seven."
Rosyn's eyes widened and her mouth dipped in surprise; the other Most Devout gasped in shock. Primarily the position of High Septon was usually reserved for male priests, but at the same time there has also never been any mention of a formal rule against electing a female priest heading the Faith of the Seven before. To the older conservative men, this act appeared to be rather unprecedented and a big aggressive.
"Wha… Y-Your Grace," Tobert sputtered. "Her? This is… I must protest on the notion that—"
Sansa remained composed, as if she somehow she knew this was the reaction they'd been expecting. "I believe that is the exact notion of what my royal husband used to describe it," she explained. "Men's hearts and emotions leads them astray, becoming cold-hearted individuals; unkind, uncaring and selfish; impulsive and emotional. What the people need is a gentle hand and a kind, loving heart to temper their nature and reassure them that despite the terrors we've all faced in our lives, we should reassure them that everything is going to be all right and to not lose sight of what's important in life. We believe Septa Rosyn has the qualities needed to lead the Faith in a new direction, to make it better than it was before."
Daveth looked at his wife and listened to her words; hinting that Sansa was referring to his own impulsive emotional outbursts he himself could hardly control due to past trauma and frustrations he's been forced to endure. Sansa and Septa Rosyn were two of the select few who knew him well enough to look beyond the surface and determine the source to steer him back on the correct path; to help pick Daveth up to his feet, dust off his shoulders and encourage him to keep going on—but not alone.
"G-give us a moment," Luceon stuttered.
Daveth, Sansa, their children and bodyguards soon left the Great Sept of Baelor behind them and moved to return to the Red Keep to await further news. The Young Stag couldn't help but feel a triumph swelling in the corner of his mind, encouraged by the push the Wolf Queen started. No doubt this endorsement and recommendations would send a ripple effect throughout the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, but what else hasn't happened that already occurred whenever both made a move?
—Six hours later—
Daveth and Sansa waited patiently in the throne room, though it wasn't long before they received an unexpected guest. Donning a long clean white-grey robe, a golden vest etched with crystals around her shoulders with the silver Seven Pointed Star wrapped around her neck, Rosyn was presented before the King and Queen. Humble and regal, her appearance had changed quite significantly—indicating Roslyn had been elevated.
"Congratulations on your elevation, High Septa," Sansa greeted.
Rosyn smiled warmly. "It still feels strange," she admitted. "I have been many things — healer, tutor, Septa — and always because someone needed something from me. But I realize now that I am all of these things, and yet, not defined by any one. I am now Her Holiness the High Septa, Mother of the Faithful and Voice of the Seven on Earth." She turned to Daveth. "But to those I helped educate, raise and nurse – to you, Oathkeeper – I will always be just Rosyn."
Daveth smiled. "So long as I still get to call you that in private, right?" he asked.
"So long as we're in private," she affirmed. "Remember, it's forbidden to refer to us—living or dead—as anything other than the office we hold."
"I understand… Rosyn. Just be careful out there. I might've named you High Septa, but there'll no doubt be those who'll disagree with you."
"Don't worry. I have a plan for the Faith, and I will not rest until the proper course is cleared for all. I may need your counsel in the coming days if not just your company."
"Of course. Will the Most Devout have an issue with you?"
"At some point, I suppose. They'd love to bury me in ceremony while they prepare for my coronation. There's still much to be done. Once that's done, I'll return to the Great Sept of Baelor for good. The faithful will be properly tended to like an herbalist tending to their garden, a farmer to his field and a healer to the sickly."
"Should you need aid," Sansa approached, "the Crown will answer."
"I appreciate that, Your Grace," Rosyn placed her hand on the Queen's four-month pregnant belly. "And I look forward to blessing yet another Baratheon. May the Seven watch over you both."
"Seven blessings to you, Your Holiness," they returned the gesture.
Rosyn, the first woman to be appointed leader of the Faith of the Seven, curtsied and exited the Red Keep back to the Great Sept of Baelor. Sansa believed there would be interesting times ahead of the Seven Kingdoms; whether for good or ill, she and Daveth will stand against the tide and will always be ready to face whatever life had to throw at them.
—Later that day—
Daveth and Sansa remained in the Small Council chambers; occasionally reading through reports and presiding over meetings, the day seemed to go by in a matter of moments for them as hours passed. Randyll introduced a motion to further improve the Royal Fleet's armada and the country's defenses; Mace offered to fund such an endeavor with House Tyrell's gold, though Tyrion offered a compromise along the lines of…
"I once brought a honeycomb and a jackass into a brothel—" the Imp joked.
"Oh please, not this story again," Daveth groaned.
Sansa frowned. "My Lord Hand, may I remind you that there are children in the room? Our children? Your grandnephew and grandniece?" she firmly reminded.
"Yeesh, sorry Your Graces." Tyrion raised his hands. "A bad joke; just trying to lighten the mood."
"*Ahem!*" Trystane cleared his throat. "The City Watch has reported that ever since the High Sparrow and his heretical movement were dispersed nearly a month ago, crime has gone down by 46 percent. Commander Duran mentions that there's been an increase of smallfolk volunteers arriving at the barracks. I believe the words he used were 'they want to do their part.'"
Daveth hummed. "Hmm. Of course he'd use colorful words to describe new recruits. What else do we have?"
"My little birds report suspicious activities brewing off the western cost in Ironman's Bay," Varys chimed in. "When they got closer, whoever was there just mysteriously vanished."
"Ironman's Bay…? Near the Iron Islands? How can that be? There's nothing left there."
"No, but they mentioned seeing ships sailing off into thick heavy fog."
"Were they flying a sigil?"
Varys nodded carefully. "I believe so, Your Grace. But I fear it might trigger awful memories on your part."
"Tell me, Varys," he insisted. "What was the description of the unknown ship's sigil?"
The Master of Whisperers and Hand of the King both exchanged concerned looks, though they were rather subtle about it. Tyrion in particular had his suspicions about his nephew's state of mind when informed of the news.
"My birds tell me the sails were all black; attached to the mast and yard, the center of the main sail was a depiction of a silver kraken with a third red eye inscribed onto its head."
Daveth's eyes dilated and contracted slightly; rapidly movement as his entire body went stiff. Although not wide, his eyes shifted from the walls with a fleeting look, to his wife sitting at his left, his uncle sitting at his right, then downwards to his palms due to the natural adrenaline response his body left off. Sansa, Varys, Tyrion and Barristan looked concerned at him. What they detected in his eyes was not that of anger or rage, but fear and anxiety.
'No. No, not him…' the Young Stag thought. "Euron Greyjoy…" he stated quietly under his breath. Daveth noticed how uncomfortable he felt and did his best to shake the thoughts of his old nemesis and tormentor from his mind. "What else do we have?" he changed the subject trying to keep his composure.
"More whispers from the east," Varys reported. "Daenerys Targaryen and her armies have decimated the Slavers Alliance and procured a fleet of her own."
"How many troops does she have in her arsenal?"
"8,000 Unsullied infantry, 100,000 Dothraki cavalry, 20,000 mercenaries from the Golden Company and three dragons."
Randyll scowled. "A bunch of foreign invaders and one with no ties to Westeros with an army of savages at her back," he spat.
'Even still, if the reports are correct, then the Targaryens hold the largest army we've ever seen to date,' Daveth thought. "How long before they arrive?" his tone switched to serious.
"About the end of the year," Varys answered.
"Meaning we'll have six months to prepare. We all knew that conflict with the Targaryens was inevitable. So now we must get ready," Daveth turned to Pycelle. "Grand Maester, dispatch every raven we have in the rookery."
"Oh, uh, a-all of them, Your Grace?" he asked.
"All of them," he confirmed. "Trystane, gather the lords and ladies of the court. Have them brought to the throne room. There is to be a royal announcement."
While Pycelle stood up and hurriedly left to the rookery and Trystane moved to call for a special session of the court, Daveth had already handed Tyrion and Mace their assigned messages as Wardens of the West and South respectively. Both unrolled their parchments and began reading it.
At Winterfell…
Robb Stark and Jon Snow were busy engaging in talks with how to discuss the inevitable war with the Night King and his undead armies. Discussions were traded back and forth until Maester Luwin arrived in the Great Hall.
"A raven from the capital, Lord Stark," he told Robb.
The Young Wolf took the paper and broke the seal, unrolled it and read what the message said.
At the Eyrie…
Robin Arryn was practicing his archery under Lord Royce's tutelage; although he never had much success with the bow as he does with the sword, Yohn encouraged his liege lord to keep practicing—eventually the young Warden of the East will soon learn to hit his mark. Hopeless with a sword, and even after prolonged training he still can't even strike the widest ring on an archery target.
Robin closed one eye and struggled to hold the bowstring stably in his hands. He released, but the arrow landed several feet away into the ground.
A maester soon approached. "My lords," he handed the new Lord Protector of the Vale a message from the capital.
Yohn broke the wax seal and began reading it with Robin leaning over his shoulder.
At Casterly Rock…
Daveth's maternal great-uncle Ser Kevan had watched his only daughter Janei leave House Lannister's ancestral castle and depart for the Reach. Although tempted to see her off, as Castellan of Casterly Rock in his nephew Tyrion's absence, Kevan was in charge of overseeing the Westerlands—militarily, politically and economically.
But before long, Kevan noticed Maester Creylen approach him with a sealed parchment. When he broke the wax, Kevan carefully examined each enscription.
At Highgarden…
Ser Loras had returned home with his bride Janei of House Lannister; although he kept up the façade of a perfect gentleman, deep down he was miserable. Not just for his over lack of interest in women and preferring the company of men, but he still bore the scars of his captivity at the hands of the High Sparrow. Now that he was home at Highgarden, the task of ruling the Reach in his father's absence fell on his shoulders.
"Oh eh, pardon me, Ser Loras, but your father sent a raven from the capital," interjected Maester Lomys.
"From my father? Show me the message," he requested.
The maester handed over the letter and Ser Loras broke it. With Janei leaning over his shoulder, the Knight of the Flowers read each word.
At Sunspear…
Prince Doran remained in his wheel chair with his bodyguard Areo standing over him. Much had changed since the Young Stag arrived in Dorne and brokered a peace treaty with House Martell; his son and heir Trystane remained in King's Landing as Master of Laws and learned of his son's marriage to Princess Myrcella, Daveth's sister. Although he was physically unable to attend the wedding himself, Doran wished his son and new daughter-in-law well wishes, a long happy life and many children.
"My Prince," Maester Caleotte apologized and brings a scroll.
Doran took the paper and broke the seal, reading each word the message entailed.
—Overall—
From as far north as Last Hearth to as far south as Sunspear, every raven dispatched from the capital city of King's Landing… all messages sent all read the same:
"Wardens of the North, South, East and West,
The time has come to call your banners once more. Again our nation
is under threat. Not from insurrectionists, but from across the Narrow
Sea. We are at war once more. The Crown has just received word
that the Mad King's daughter, Daenerys of House Targaryen, has
amassed a large powerful army and plans to sail across the world
to invade.
I call upon you to answer the call and mobilize your armies in
preparation for an immediate response against such a dangerous
enemy. Our homes, our future, our way of life… everything we hold
dear faces annihilation should the Mad King's daughter succeed in
her conquest. Her armies are unlike any this nation has ever seen:
mindless Unsullied soldiers who will destroy your castles, Dothraki
savages who will pillage and burn your villages to the ground without
a second thought, rape and enslave your women, and butcher your
children.
And like her ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, she has three full-grown
dragons in her arsenal. Mindless, savage beasts. The embodiment of
raw, uncontrollable power.
Most of you remember the Mad King. You remember the levels of
unspeakable horror and terror he inflicted on his people. His daughter
is no different. In Essos, she crucified hundreds of nobles with such
brutality, fed them to her dragons and executed them without giving
them a fair trial.
Now I have no doubt some among you have reservations about
fighting such a foe and that's understandable, but this is the hard
truth. And hard truth cuts both ways.
But the Westeros we know today is not the same Westeros it used
to be when Aegon landed on our shores 300 years ago. This is not
the War of Conquest. We are not a multitude of separate, individual
kingdoms squabbling amongst ourselves – but rather we remain
standing as united realm. Some among you fought alongside me
on the battlefield during the Stag Sedition and again during the
Second Greyjoy Rebellion.
As King of the Seven Kingdoms, it is my solemn duty to protect to
protect the people against all threats—foreign and domestic, and I
will continue to do so. But now more than ever, my lords and ladies,
I will need your help. We cannot go back to the way things were
before when the Mad King terrorized us all. But rather we must move
forward and make the world a better place than our forefathers
left it, a future we can establish for our children and their children.
As Protector of the Realm, the people of Westeros, nobles and
commoners alike, are like family and I will give my life to protect
them.
Family is not always about blood ties or noble houses, but
rather it is a bond between those around you. The ones who want
you in their life just as much as you want them in yours. It is that
bond no one can ever take away – especially not Daenerys Targaryen.
Signed,
Daveth of the House Baratheon, the First of My Name · King of the
Andals and the First Men · Lord of the Seven Kingdoms · Protector
of the Realm"
Chapter End
Author's End: A new leader of the Faith of the Seven has been chosen and a call to arms has been sent to every corner of Westeros. The stage is set for the epic climax and we're close to the end of Season 6. What are your guys' opinion? Thoughts? Let me know.
Ssj1998: Ok so the invading forces have a total 128,000 thousand troops but how many do the seven kingdoms have because the all the seven kingdoms except from Dorne and Vale have been in heavy conflict throughout the story and the iron islands have all but been destroyed.
Either way if I remember correctly Dorne hasn't been in any major conflict In this fic and Vale hasn't gotten majorly involved or have lost barely any troops and both of these kingdoms can field a total 40,000 each when given enough time which already is 2/3 of Daenerys forces from just 2 Kingdoms. So I'm not sure where her having the largest army ever seen unless they mean as a single United force that has invaded Westeros
Once again looking forward to your next update so keep up the good work.
Guest #3: Im all giddy about this!
God of war: Will there be a navel battle before denyries reach dragon stone
Guest #2: you must allow homosexuality
Guest #1: to death the faith
Chris the Metis: Quite a chapter. Daenerys should have read a sign that said "Dragons keep out!" on all corners of Westeros because nobody supporting her as all back the Oathkeeper beside her family screw up far badly to the point that nobody welcome her back which truly indeed a show down between stag and dragon. Like Battle of Bosworth Field or Trident.
Nai0310: I can already imagine Daveth watching the horizon and scenes of Daenerys about Drogon and the great army of unsullied, drothaky and golden company, Viserion and Rhaegal flying around them.
fiend89: This is getting real. I hope that Daveth is wise enough to get smart people to research how to defeat dragons. However, will the North be concern about Daenerys considering they are the closest to the Nights Watch? Love this story, can't wait for more.
RHatch89: The issue with your Daenerys is that she is the underdog here (not counting her forces and dragons). The show Daenerys was facing against a despotic queen (who had little to no supporters), and had the support of Westerosi allies, but this Daenerys is facing the might of seven kingdoms that have no love for her, and view her as a foreign invader who is leading forces of destruction to a relatively peaceful land.
Hear My Fury: All I got to say is the Tyrells and Martells better not turn cloak on Daveth and side with Daenerys. Because if they do I have no problems with them receiving the Reyne and Tarbeck treatment.
Chosen-One-92: Fucking hell I hope you don't cock block us by having them cease hostilities and fight the dead so early. I'm looking forward to a well led Westeros, less decimated by war mustering its armies. I expect the dothraki will feel differently about Westeros' people being unable to fight this time.
Tohka123: Looks like it is time to unite against the upcoming threat, keep up the hard work
Bad Ass Female Fighter: That message was epic. I can totally see Daveth staring off into the distance with that dramatic background music when the message was read.
Oi Teme: Wow going all out with that letter already wise describing the mad king and each of her army. I thought they would at least try to have a long talk first or is it straight to battle already?
Corvus Reborn: Well well, I fear that Daenerys may have a harder time attacking Westeros given that it is effectively united rather than various factions squabbling for power, vengeance, or just because they can.
I feel that Euron is going to be a wild card factor in the coming days; either striking out as an independent power or with him putting aside his differences with Yara for the time being to seek revenge for the fallen Iron Islands, seems unlikely, but you never know.
Still, whatever the case, interesting times are ahead. I guess all we can do now is sit back, grab some popcorn, and watch the fireworks. On a semi-related note, wasn't there something many chapters ago about Daenerys asking Jorah (or somebody else in her counsel) asking for information regarding Daveth. Was that ever addressed, or just inferred that such a thing happened?
Patty 4577: Nice chapter. But I do notice there is one plot point you have been avoiding. The wildlings. Ever since Ramsay has been dealt with. You seem to have brushed off their existence. Especially in the mind of any southern king or lord who believes they are on the wrong side of the wall regardless of their reasons. Or who is supporting them.