Daniel: It was close. If Randyll Tarly didn't order his position flanked, he might've just won.
TMI: No, Stannis is mentioning the shadow baby.
Ali: Would've probably worked if he managed to kill Renly too, but the Reach-Stormland alliance still had the glue holding them in place.
iacopo: Davos will prefer quick and easy to deal with.
Flygar: The Narrow Sea houses have the Royal Fleet. The Florents are fucked.
Caver: I have a plan for what happens at the Wall. Quentyn won't influence it, but it will stem from Robb's decisions.
Guest: Fair enough for the guard part, actually. Although the chapter could have been a little too long mentioning Stannis' guard at every turn, but it was a misstep on my part. As for his "blitz" through the battlefield, bear in mind the hill is small and he only has 5k people with him. This isn't a big, epic, battle. It's really a glorified skirmish. As for Shireen, Davos still has some men, the Royal Fleet, and a few lords. He'll fight to the death for her claim, but he can't do so conventionally anymore.
Final numbers are: Stannis' force - 5k fielded, 4.5k killed, wounded or captured. Renly's force: 18.5k - 10-12k killed or wounded. For now, the army is paralyzed until Renly recovers. If he recovers. Rainbow Guard is down 5 members (Brienne dead to shadow baby, Loras dead to Velaryon, Bryce dead to Stannis, Guyard dead from one of Stannis' men, and Parmen following soon after).
As for the magic, all magic stems from the Valyrian magic, it seems, especially with Melisandre toying with blood like in canon to make the shadow babies happen. If the Rhoynar survived the Valyrian onslought for so long, it seemed like they had magical countermeasures with their own Rhoynar magic managing to counter Valyrian magic and even dragons. So it's not far-fetched to infer that it'd work against whatever Mel's magic is drawn from. It brought down dragons, I'm sure one little shadow baby isn't too hard.
Also, it does seem like (assuming you are the same Guest making the same comments on the story every time), you make very interesting feedback every time. I have a beta for this story, but he never has the same in-depth analysis you bring. I wonder if you'd be interested in being a beta for this story so that these issues could be fixed before each chapter comes out. If you are, contact me either by PM here or via and we can arrange this if you're down with it.
Guest2: He mentions it in the chapter. Under guard and scared of what would happen to the men left at Bitterbridge should they try to escape.
Gulian
Gulian marched at a slow pace through the large halls of Storm's End. His footsteps echoed through the large halls, while the faint sound of rain pouring outside the thick walls of the Baratheon fortress could be heard.
Never did he think that he'd lay eyes on such a sight. Never did he think that he'd stay inside the walls of the castle itself. Yet, here he was, walking through a nearly deserted wing of the castle, waiting out a storm.
It had been almost two moons since Stannis' host had been crushed under the walls of Storm's End. The would-be king Stannis was dead and buried beneath the crypts of Storm's End alongside his ancestors. A far better fate than he deserved, but the Stormlanders had argued that one of Renly's last wishes was to have him not suffer any harm once dead, and despite the Reachers' protests, he was interred without any great ceremony. The bodies of the dead Reachers and Stormlanders, including those of five of the seven of Renly's Rainbow Guard, had been sent home. Needless to say, many in Highgarden would be weeping at the loss of their Knight of Flowers.
Two moons since he'd thought that they would have left this wretched place and hurried back to the warmth of the Dornish deserts. But it wasn't to be.
Lady Stark hurried home almost immediately after the battle, feeling that she had seen enough, and made her way back to Bitterbridge. They, on the other hand, had stayed in Storm's End, waiting for the rest of Renly's foot to arrive. He had advised Quentyn to just return to Dorne, but the prince had wanted to wait and see where the situation could develop.
However, Gulian could tell that the prince was unnerved, just like he was prior to discussing with Renly. There was something amiss there, and he would find out what. Quentyn asking for him to come to his rooms as soon as he was able to was the perfect opportunity to do so.
It wasn't long till he found the prince's chambers: a small room, but well-lit – at least better than his own – and well-furbished. Quentyn's healer was at his side, but his…paramour, for lack of a better word, wasn't. Odd.
Quentyn and his healer were talking silently, but both noticed him entering the room, with Quentyn beckoning him forward.
"My prince, they haven't even let me touch him." The grey-haired man was seemingly angered by some event.
"Do you mean that they rejected your help, even after you helped save his life?" Quentyn looked at him in disbelief.
It wasn't hard to know what they were talking about. Quentyn's healer had managed to save King Renly's life, but he was still bedridden and in a bad condition. The shadow magic likely had adverse effects on his body.
"Yes, my prince. Exactly that." The healer nodded. "I need more time to stabilise him and soothe his pain, and if I cannot work, then he will die in pain. He already has lost a lot of strength since that fat lord told him of the death of Ser Loras Tyrell. You can't just tell a man battling for his life that one of his closest companions is dead so abruptly."
Quentyn looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.
"Well, you have done your duty to the best of your ability. If they do not wish for you to help him anymore, it is their choice. You shall no longer treat King Renly."
"But, my prince, if I don't…he will die within a moon, and the circumstances will not be pleasant, to say the least. He will have wished this shadow blade had cut his throat."
"Let him. The Reachers have promised to gut you when they found out about your past at the Citadel anyways. I'd rather we get out of this castle before their king dies." The prince sighed. "In the meantime, have you managed to complete what I have asked?"
"I have, but I will need some…volunteers to try it on."
"We will likely find some bandits on the way when we leave on the morrow. Prepare your things, we ride at dawn. That will be all."
The grey-haired man nodded and slipped away into the shadows of the fortress' halls, leaving him alone with Quentyn.
The prince gestured for him to sit, and brought him a glass of wine.
"We're leaving, then?" he finally asked, not touching the wine just yet.
"Yes." Quentyn nodded back. "About time we get out of here. It feels like we have done nothing since Stannis has been buried, and we've finally found his red priestess. There is nothing much for us to be done here."
"They found her?" Gulian looked shocked. If they hadn't found her in two moons, it meant that she had probably escaped with a handful of Stannis' men who had escaped the battlefield.
"Dead. Washed up on the shores of Shipbreaker Bay this morning. Stabbed in the heart."
"Good riddance."
"You'll never know the most mysterious part though. When they took her necklace off, her body turned from young and lively, to old and wrinkled." Quentyn shuddered. "Needless to say, that necklace was immediately destroyed by half-a-hundred men, and the pieces scattered across Shipbreaker Bay. Her body was weighed down with a stone and thrown at sea. What was left of it, anyway."
"Nasty business, but at least I am glad that we are leaving. Are we to go back to Dorne?"
"Not just yet." Quentyn shook his head. "We've got something to finish here first."
Quentyn tapped his fingers on a little raven scroll to his right. Gulian couldn't make out what was read, but it must have been important.
"Once it is done, we will reconvene with the men left at Bitterbridge, and I shall send half of them with you and Gerris back to Sunspear."
Gulian raised an eyebrow.
"You're sending Gerris and I back to Sunspear?" he asked, confused. "Why?"
"Because I've realised that my dear father has sent me here to fail. It was obvious that we wouldn't be able to break their alliance, and he instead intends to take back control of Sunspear." The prince looked at him with a sad glance. "Him and his little games. It was always about that to him. Power, always power. Well, I intend to play at his little game for once, and I have nominated you as my regent in Sunspear while I am gone. Gerris will act as your muscle and advisor."
"Why me?" Gulian looked surprised. "Why not Cletus?"
"Because you're smarter than him, and I trust you just as much. Besides, you and Gerris can go see your wives again. Elinor is close to giving birth, and I wouldn't want Gerris to miss it. As for you…well you have your duties to attend to as well."
Gulian gulped. Did he know? It wasn't possible.
"And what am I to do there?" he asked.
"Make sure that Ser Manfrey hasn't done anything hampering the efforts we've been working towards. If he has replaced any men I've appointed, make sure to re-assign them and bring in people loyal to us. I won't have my father undo all of my hard work." Quentyn counted on his fingers. "Then make sure the efforts to distribute and streamline medicine production are going as planned, make sure the hospitals are running, and make sure that our trade agreements have been upheld."
Gulian nodded. If he was this concerned about things going on in Sunspear, then it warranted someone loyal be put in charge. And seeing Dorne again while dealing with the machinations of Prince Doran was a gift from the heavens compared to what they were doing here.
"And you?" he asked. "What will you do?"
"With Renly likely to die soon, the seat of power will change from Storm's End to Highgarden." Quentyn rose his voice slightly. "My sister should be there or should be arriving soon. And I need to know where they will turn their efforts, especially with their Queen being with child."
Gulian nearly choked on his wine.
"What? H-How?"
"Queen Margaery is with child, according to reports from Bitterbridge, and don't ask me how, I don't know myself." He shook his head. "She wanted to come here, but Renly's health forbids it. And since Renly will die soon…I wish to know what the Tyrells intend to do."
"This is risky," Gulian warned. "With what Renly tried to do to us…who knows how far the Reachers will go this time, especially with as much uncertainty weighing around us now."
"You can also add that my father has decided to confirm the betrothal of princess Myrcella to my little brother Trystane." Quentyn sighed. "This isn't official yet, but it will soon be. My father has called the banners."
"Do you think that he will march into the Stormlands? With both you and your sister as potential hostages?" Gulian's eyes widened. "And what good is a betrothal to a bastard?"
"No." The prince shook his head. "But my father is certainly foolish enough to forget that we are here or the consequences that could befall us. As for Myrcella, it is a smart move, and it gives us leverage against the throne should we need it."
"What then? Do you intend to go to Highgarden to just find out what the Tyrells intend to do? What if they decide to keep you there?"
Quentyn stayed silent for a little moment and then nodded back.
"You may just be right." He sighed. "The situation has grown far out of my control and I've been looking for ways to bring it back. I've lost a round in this game, and I hate losing with a passion. However, the situation is unstable as of now. Best to rally Summerhall and wait to see what happens, then rally Highgarden if the situation has stabilised. Especially with the war going on in the Riverlands."
"Losing? Losing what? You've been acting strangely ever since that morning at Storm's End with Renly. What is happening with you?"
"If I told you, you'd think I was going mad."
"I already think that."
Quentyn drew a deep breath and stood up. His pace was slow as he walked around the room, before settling down on his bed.
"What happened in Renly's tent, I dreamt it that night."
"You what?"
"I dreamt it," Quentyn confessed. "A few nights before, I dreamt of Renly being slain by a shadow. Does that satisfy you?"
"I didn't take you to be one to trust dreams. I dream about drinking all the Arbor Gold in the Hightower's wine cellars and that's never coming true."
"I wasn't…but in Sunspear I dreamed that Lord Stark would be executed. That the realms would be plunged into war. That the Baratheon brothers would turn against each other. How not to trust what happened in that dream?" he asked. "Everything until this one came true."
"Who knows about this?"
"You and Nym. No one else."
Gulian rubbed his eyes. Prophetic dreams were not another problem he wished to have on his list.
"Did you have any other dreams?" he asked still, intrigued.
"None since the one in Storm's End." Quentyn sighed. "I trusted what I saw, and I bet on Renly being slain and Stannis winning. We would have been free to go and the alliance between Reach and Stormlands would've been broken. And I lost, and now everything is going to the seven hells."
"I didn't take you to be quite the believer in that sort of thing." Gulian snorted. "Nor did I think you would trust your paramour over us."
Quentyn's gaze darkened.
"I trust her as much as you." Were the only words that he let out. "But since I love her, she knows things you likely don't."
Gulian felt like the weight of the world got dropped on his shoulders.
"No, you don't." he pointed out sternly. "You think you do. But she has played you and has got you wrapped around her fingers. Just like you warned us before going to Sunspear."
"No, she hasn't." Quentyn shook his head. "She stands nothing to gain from having me. She is not Tyene, and I dealt with her. I know when I'm being played for a fool. I know how to look at a damn mirror."
"Listen, Quentyn." Gulian drew a deep breath. "I can understand why you think that you love her, and I don't particularly care if she is your cousin, and the fact that you keep selling yourself short. But do not confuse lust and love, they are two different things. I am not foolish enough to ignore what you do with her, and I don't particularly care as long as it doesn't keep me from falling asleep, which was particularly hard when we were at Bitterbridge. Just because you two have your share of fun in bed, doesn't mean that you love her.
Do you love the Jordayne girls too? You bedded them and they had much prettier faces, lovely skin, and anyone in Dorne would've killed to be in their bed. The difference is that they didn't stay long enough for you to say that you love them.
I know that your cousin has taken other lovers in Sunspear, and I know you have taken other women to bed there too. If this isn't a mark of lust rather than love, I do not know what is."
"You don't understand, do you?" Quentyn asked, almost laughing.
"Understand what?" Gulian crossed his arms. "I am only warning you of a huge mistake you are making. Your paramour has the viper's eyes, like her sisters, and I do not trust her word and her false promises. I'm trying to make you see reason before it is too late. If you want to take a paramour, I would suggest a more amenable option."
"Of course, you don't understand. You think I don't know that it isn't just sex, Gulian? You think that your situation is just like yours where you get to fuck a pretty face while your wife stays in a room next to yours unaware?" the prince's dark eyes seemed to grow even darker as Gulian took two steps back. Quentyn knew. "Nym is not like your paramour, Gulian. It was always more than just that. You're right, the Jordayne girls were gorgeous, but Myria was too ambitious and Samira too naive. And for them, it was just that. And the others, too. I wasn't in love with them, nor they with me. Some of them might've even fancied themselves princesses, for all I care.
But Nym is a lot more than a bedwarmer. Whenever I wake up next to her, I feel whole. I don't feel like a piece of me is missing like I have felt before. Whenever I hold her close to me and she smiles at me, I feel like my heart is melting inside me. Whenever she takes me in her arms, I wish I could never leave them again. Whenever I feel down and we hold each other close, I don't have to act as I do around everyone else. I can cry on her shoulder, and she on mine. I can tell her my fears and my worries, and she tells me hers.
However, she isn't scared of telling me where I'm failing, where I'm fucking up, and where I need to improve. She's not a delicate flower, she's a fighter. She's strong, smart, and beautiful, but also kind and soft-spoken if you can get to know her. We both play a part when we are with others, I of the calculating prince and she of the Red Viper's arrogant daughter. But when we're together, we are not shy of letting that facade fall. We can afford to be weak together, even if it only lasts a small moment.
I know all her secrets, for she has trusted me with them, just like she knows mine. She will always know more than you, or Cletus, or Arch, or Gerris. Just like I'll know more of her than Arianne, or Obara, or Jen, or Tyene.
That's why I love her, and more besides."
"But has she shown you any token of affection to you?" Gulian sighed. "I would like you to be happy, Quentyn, truly. But these weigh little if the secrets she tells you are known by everyone. What of those that you bedded in Sunspear after you met her? What of the trust that she has put in you? How did she prove her loyalty?"
"Did you ever prove yours?" Quentyn shrugged. "I never tested your loyalty because I know that you are loyal to me and that I trust you enough to even tell you these things. I know that you are telling me this out of genuine concern and that is why I haven't punched you right between the eyes.
If it makes you feel any better, we didn't fall in love at first sight like in the songs, and I know that I can never marry her. It took time for us to speak of it, and we agreed to have an arrangement at Bitterbridge. We both will not take anyone else to bed unless the other is present and has agreed to it, the exception being my wedding night. Does that satisfy you?"
Gulian felt himself losing his footing.
"But…" he started anew. "Quentyn, she hasn't proven her love to you. For all intents and purposes, she could still be using you. How do you know…"
"SHE'S BEARING MY CHILD!" Quentyn finally snapped and screamed at him. If looks could kill, he would've fallen in an instant. "IS THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?"
Gulian nearly fell to the floor.
"What…when?"
"Nym hadn't been feeling well since Summerhall." Quentyn's voice softened. "We blamed it on the cold and rain, and it got better at Bitterbridge, but she still hadn't been feeling better after the battle at Storm's End. Qyburn examined her, and revealed that she was carrying a child."
"Isn't she furious?" Gulian's mind struggled to keep up with the thought of the Red Viper having a grandchild, with his nephew of all people.
"Quite the opposite." Quentyn sighed. "We talked…for a long time…about what should be done. Believe it or not, I was the most vocal about her taking moon tea, but…Nym is four-and-twenty, and since we've already professed our love to each other…she was willing to bear a child to confirm our love.
I told her that it was foolish, that I didn't need her to sacrifice her freedom for such a trivial thing. That I loved her anyway. But she was adamant about having one with me, after seeing how Gerris acted around Elinor, and how some of her friends who have grown and married act with their children. It was our decision to keep it, but she was the one that convinced me to let her bear it."
"Your child will be a bastard, you know this?" Gulian gulped. "Are you ready for him to bear the consequences of being a Sand?"
"We've talked about this too." Quentyn softly replied. "The child will be raised in the Water Gardens with the other children. My uncle's children seem to be faring quite well despite their father being absent all the time, and I will not let myself become my father or my uncle. I will raise my child with all the love that it deserves, at the Gardens and at Sunspear, with both its parents."
"And you never thought of telling us, either?"
"I never came around to it. There were a lot of things I wanted to do, and there was still the option that Nym could have changed her mind. Besides, we ride at dawn on the morrow, and I did not want you to have even more things on your mind than necessary."
"Where do we ride to?" Gulian asked, curiously. "If we do not ride to Dorne or Summerhall, where are we going?"
"I cannot say, yet." He took the small raven scroll in his hands, his lips curving into a very wide grin. "However, if this is true and nothing unexpected happens, then you will be very glad to have been brought along. If I am to be my father's puppet, I at least intend to do something useful while walking around the continent aimlessly.
I am turning eight-and-ten in four moons, and I intend to give myself a quite expensive early nameday present, and just like a good cake, I shall share it with everyone."
A/N: End of the transition chapter and one more chapter till we conclude Act 2 with a Cletus POV. The next chapters which will be posted in January and February will cover the beginning of Act 3 (and complete departure from canon, or close to it), with chapters detailing the situation elsewhere in Westeros, and being: Catelyn, then Margaery, then either Oberyn or Gerris, then surprise new POV, and finally Arianne (with Quentyn making his return in this chapter).