King's Landing…
Moon of the Eagle, 281 After Aegon's Conquest…
With Harry…
"Aye, I've heard the King's in a right tear. He still ain't heard shit about the Prince!"
"Really? Seven 'ells, the Tourney ended a month ago!"
"That's what I thought! Our gracious king burnt the sorry man who told 'im!"
"Poor basta'd. I's don't know what or where the Prince may be, but fuck I hope he ain't dead."
"If he is, there's always the little one."
"The tyke? He ain't he even six yet?"
"Aye, but I'd rather a tyke than a mad fucker who goes about burning folks," the dock hand quietly said to his companion as I frowned under my cloak. 'I knew the King was insane but this is a step too far.' I thought, my eyes raking over the docks and up toward the castle looming over the city like a great bird of prey…
Or perhaps an angry dragon?
"That's the truth of it," the other dock hand said, stretching as he glared at the Red Keep himself. "Makes you wonder why we ain't leave with the rest o' everybody."
"Too damn cold in the north, Dennis. Wha's it them Starks say? Winter's comin'?"
"Eh, maybe." Dennis, assumedly, shrugged. "Ol' Davos came down 'bout a fortnight 'go."
"Did he?"
"Yeah, said some'in' 'bout he was gettin' paid a moon every day. Personally, methinks it's tripe."
"Aye! Ain't no one gets paid that well!"
"Boat capt'ins in the North do, apparently. 'Is crew even talked 'bout road crews or some'in'."
"What in th' seven 'ells are those?"
"Aint's a clue, Paul, aint's a clue… C'mon, sun's down. Le's go see if ol' Jon'll let's us go on." The two of them lumbered away, blissfully unaware of what I was about to kick off for Ben. I tapped my chest, my fingers touching where the rolled-up scrolls of parchment were secured under my cloak as I made my way toward the Red Keep…
It was time to start a war.
I twisted on my heel, disappearing from the dock and silently reappearing before the gates of the Red Keep. I looked up at the gates, gleaming ominously in the werelight of the full moon.
'Ben, this better be worth it.' I sighed mentally as I twisted on my heel again, silently materializing on the keep's flagstones. My feet padded over them silently as I made my way over the courtyard and toward where Teddy told me the royal chambers were – Maegor's Holdfast.
And what a name that was.
From what Ben had found, Maegor was one sick son of a bitch who was rightly titled The Cruel. Killing dozens of men just because they built your castle in a castle? That was a bit much, but it did mean that it had some secrets he didn't want to get out…
That was something to investigate later. Right now, I have a princess to get back to her family.
But then my mind drifted to who she was married to, dragging a snarl onto my lips as I thought of what he did to Lyanna. If anything, Aerys would go down as Aerys the Mad and Rhaegar… Well, what do you call a Prince who rapes the daughter of one of the King's Lords Paramount? The Warden of the North?
I shook myself of those thoughts. 'Now was not the time.' I thought as I crept over to the courtyard. The keep was enormous, labyrinthine almost. Though Winterfell was much more extensive and the crypts much deeper, you'd likely need hours to properly explore the entirety of the Targaryen's castle. It was separated into levels but straight ahead was likely the best place to start. I sighed as I slipped into the castle proper by one of the servant doors.
Eventually, my feet took me to a massive oaken and bronze door.
I looked up at it, swallowing nervously, before I thought about being on the other side.
And then I was.
Only to be greeted by an enormous, ugly-as-hell chair of swords towering over a cavernous hall with dragon skulls ringing the room.
I had to admit; it would have been a somewhat intimidating sight if I hadn't already met Ancaleon…
Merlin knows that monster could melt this bloody hall if he wanted to.
'Or if Ben asked.' The thought shot through my head unbidden before I frowned and glanced around the hall again.
Though, Ancaleon would have to tear the roof off to be able to fit even his head inside. The hall may have been large enough for Quintus to fit inside completely, but Ancaleon could likely only get his head in.
'Big ass chair though.' I thought as I stepped up to the foot of the towering throne, dropping a scroll under a disillusionment and notice-me-not at its foot for anyone to find after I got out of here. But a thousand swords? No, there looked to be even more than that…
'And to think that mad bastard sits it… Though they do call him King Scab for a reason.' My eyes drifted to the blades beside the arms of the throne as I rounded the throne itself, pushing the door behind it open.
It led into a small corridor, not much taller than myself and not much wider - Ben wouldn't have fit without having to hunch, but I could walk through it easily. Though it was quite long. I frowned at that. 'Where does it lead? Certainly not the king's chambers, that's just a recipe for- oh, another bloody courtyard. Of course.' I could have groaned as I looked around, trying to figure out which way to- Oh. Probably the smaller castle.
'Certainly looks like something a man named the Cruel would build.' I thought absently, taking note of the moat, drawn bridge, gargoyles, and rusted spikes lining the thick walls. 'It'd be hard enough to take the Keep itself… Merlin, take a city, then siege a castle, but then you'd have to lay siege to another castle? You'd have to be mad to try it… Then again, Ben wouldn't siege it anyway.' I narrowed my eyes, picking a relatively safe place to land. Slightly out of the way of the guards so I wouldn't be walked over but close enough to a window I could slip inside easily enough. I took in a breath, apparating to the chosen spot and glancing into the window.
'Jackpot.' I grinned as I popped into the room behind the tiny window and strode through the open door. 'Now which way would the Princess's chambers be…' I stopped in the middle of the hall, looking left and right. 'Most likely, it's going to be further toward the center and lower in the castle… Or they may be on the higher levels… Wait, this is a castle. Royalty is typically higher up, right? Didn't Ben say something about the stairs being built in a certain way so the defenders could fight off the attackers better?' I squinted, turning left and making my way through the labyrinthine passages until I finally found a staircase. Low and behold, it was spiral. Like every bloody staircase in this bloody country.
I bit my lip to keep from swearing as I mounted them, stepping up.
It took a little bit and a few close calls where I nearly bumped into a servant hurrying down (or tripping over a step that was just a tiny bit higher than the rest, but enough to catch my toe on) until I reached the top of the stairs – finding a man in white armor standing before a door down the hall. I knelt down, drawing my wand and taking aim.
'Stupefy, Silencio Maxima.' With that, I sent a bolt of crimson light hurtling down the corridor followed by a ribbon of white. The Knight jerked away, barely managing to get away from the bolt of red but not quite managing to avoid the banner of white. He looked confused as he drew his sword (one that looked remarkably similar to Ben's, just much larger and white) and opened his mouth. He worked his jaw but brought his hand up to his mouth as words refused to come out – even his feet didn't make a sound against the stonework. I could have groaned as he leveled his sword in my general direction but followed up the first stunner with a trio of others, sending them at the Knight at different levels.
He caught the first one on his sword, deflecting it toward the ceiling (much to my surprise), dodged the second one but in so doing caught the third square in the face.
The knight collapsed to the floor, his sword falling away from him without a sound as he did. I sighed, pushing a hand through my hair as I walked up to the man. I almost felt sorry for him, actually… I was about to kidnap a princess out from under his nose, he was obviously knocked unconscious, and no one would believe him even if he told anyone how this little ambush happened. I removed my cloak, undoing the silencing charms on me (and the knight), but adding a bubble around the door. If the princess screamed… 'Well, best not to wake the whole castle…' I thought as I rapped on the door.
"What Arth- Who are you!?" A slip of a woman opened the door - golden-skinned, rail thin, with eyes as dark as coal and hair to match - and hissed quietly as she looked at the Knight's body and then looked back up at me with fire burning in her eyes. Yeah, this was Elia Martell. And she was obviously pregnant.
"Princess." I nodded to her, bowing slightly. "My name is Harry Potter. Your knight was not harmed, I promise. I just couldn't have him stop me."
"Stop you from doing what, exactly?" The princess hissed, glaring at me still.
"Taking you back to Dorne."
"What!? Why would you do that?" She gasped, her look of suspicion gone as she openly gaped at me.
"Because Rhaegar made a mistake."
"Princes don't make mistakes."
"He kidnapped and raped Lyanna Stark of Winterfell."
"Oh… That… That was indeed a mistake… Where is he?"
"He's being held at Moat Cailin for ransom."
"Ransom? He's still alive?"
"Yes, my lady. Collect your daughter and I will take you from here."
"Why?"
"To free your brother to act as he pleases," I said, looking the woman in the eyes. "And I doubt you wish to stay here."
"No, I don't," Elia spat, looking down at the Knight on the floor. "What will you do with Ser Arthur?"
"I was going to leave him there."
"If you do that and I'm not here then Aerys will burn him. The Sword of the Morning doesn't deserve that."
"You want me to bring him with us?"
"Yes."
"It will be done," I sighed, looking down at the man. I flicked my wand out of my sleeve, levitating him. "May we come inside?" Elia's jaw was on the floor but she nodded absently. "Thank you, Princess." I said as she stepped aside, allowing me and my floating prisoner to step in. I glanced around, spotting a sofa that I deposited the Knight on. The woman glanced at me as I did, folding my arms over my chest as I gestured for her to get moving. She did, hurrying into her room with me close behind her.
"What are you doing?" She hissed, narrowing her eyes at me. I lifted a brow.
"What bag are you taking with you?"
"Bag?"
"Aye, Princess, we're going to be travelling light."
"I don't have a bag big enough for what I wish to take with me." She hissed, pointing at a trunk. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I twirled my wand between my fingers.
"Fine. Capatious Extremis!" I snapped, the bolt of magic slamming against the trunk, making the wood glow, before the lid itself flew open. Then I flicked my wand around in a circle. "Pack!" Instantly, the room exploded into motion. Dresses flew from the wardrobe, jewelry from the vanity, and other small things leapt from their places as they disappeared into the trunk.
"How'd you do that!?" She gaped with no venom in her voice this time, too busy staring at the stripped-down room to care.
"Magic, Princess." I smirked, walking over to the trunk and aiming at it. "Emarces." The large wooden trunk immediately shrunk down to the size of a matchbox. I bent down to pick it up, handing it to the Princess who looked at it like it wasn't real. "To get it back to it's full size, just put your finger on top of the lid and say enlarge."
"It- this can't be real…" She muttered, eyes fixed on the trunk in her palm. "I… There are tales of the water mages of the Rhoynar and everyone knows of the Valyrians but this… Nothing like this has ever been done.
"Now it has." I shrugged, her eyes snapping back up to me. "Go get your daughter, Princess." She swallowed, nodding.
"She- I need to pack her things as well."
"Alright." I nodded. "Lead the way." She stared at me but nodded slowly, turning around and leading me back into the common area and toward a side door. She pushed the door open slowly, the little light in the dim room revealing the crib and mobile above it. The Princess padded inside, leaning over the crib just watching the occupant before she reached down. I couldn't help but smile lightly as the Princess took her daughter in her arms, propping her up against her shoulder. She glared at me lightly but I just nodded, stepping inside as she walked out. "Accio, trunk." I muttered as a black trunk with the Targaryen sigil shot out from a side alcove. It slid along the floor before I stopped it with my foot. "Capacious Extremis, pack." In moments, the contents of the room had rocketed into the trunk - leaving only a few things standing. I frowned, my eyes turning to the crib. I flicked my wand with a breathed "Emarces," the crib immediately shrinking to a much more manageable size, "Accio." It slapped against my palm as I dropped it into the chest below me. "Emarces." I said, leaning down to pick up the second, shrunken chest. I turned from the room, closing the door behind me to find the Princess gently bouncing the little Princess against her chest.
"Well?"
"It is done." I nodded, handing her the other trunk. She swallowed, nodding lightly before looking at the knight.
"And how are you to take us from here?"
"With this." I said, drawing a scroll from my pocket. "Once you get to Dorne, give this to Prince Doran. It's from Lord Agonstark of Moat Cailin, it will explain everything."
"And how is a piece of parchment to take us from here?" The Dornish woman snapped, her eyes blazing as I smirked slightly.
"Magic," I said, laying the scroll on Ser Arthur's chest. "All you need to do is touch it." She looked at me disbelievingly. I just gestured to the hand still clutching the trunks. She looked down, flushed slightly, and slipped the trunks into a pocket to free her hand.
"If this is a trick-"
"It is not. Touch the parchment, I'll say a word, and you'll be safely in Dorne with ser… er, Arthur?" She cocked an eyebrow but nodded. She knelt beside the knight, putting a hand on the parchment.
"Go on, say your word then."
"Vengeance." I muttered as the portkey whisked the mother, daughter, and Kingsguard away from the city. Her face was priceless when the portkey triggered but I didn't have time to think about it.
I still had work to do.
I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders once again, weaving silencing wards over me as I extinguished the candles in the apartment and slipped out of the room.
Honestly, I could have gone back to the Throne Room but there was something else I had to do…
Not that I wanted to, but it was necessary.
I sighed, shaking my head as I made my way down the hall, making my way around the number of bends until I found myself at another door guarded by a man a few years older than me, about Rickard's age. I didn't make the same mistake I did with Arthur, coming up until my wand was level with the man's neck and releasing a stunner directly into his throat. He crumpled like a puppet with his strings cut, falling into a mass of twisted limbs. I cringed, glancing around the hall and waiting a few moments to see if anyone was going to come running at the sound of armor crashing against the floor. I held my breath but no one was coming. I sighed a breath of relief as I tried the door and found it locked. I frowned, waving my wand over the lock and pulling it open as I removed my cloak. I stepped inside the pitch-black room, lighting my wand with an underpowered lumos.
The room was rather small, but it was well-furnished. A canopied bed, a hearth, a wardrobe, a desk, and a toy chest at the foot of the oversized bed – currently occupied by a silver-haired boy looking up at me with wide violet eyes.
"W-who are you?"
"I'm Harry," I said gently, kneeling by his bed. "Are you Viserys?"
"I… I am…" I nodded, smiling gently at the boy.
"Tell me, Viserys, have you ever wanted to see the North?" The little boy's eyes widened as he nodded slowly.
"Y-yes… I want to see all of the kingdoms."
"Then one day you will, little prince. But I could take you to the North now, if you wanted?"
"Can… Can mother come?" I frowned but nodded slowly.
"I'll have to fetch her. Can you get some things together while I do? Just enough to carry with you, we'll be traveling very, very fast." I said as the boy nodded, wiggling out of the sheets.
"Can ser Barristan help me?"
"I'm afraid not, little prince. He's fast asleep." The prince nodded seriously as a six-year-old could. "Now get your things, I'll get your mother." I said, standing and pulling my cloak over myself again – never seeing the boy's shock as I slipped into the hall.
'Fuck… This was not the plan. But the less hostages that twat has the better.' Shot through my head as I made my way further into the holdfast. There was another guard standing at yet another door. By the look of him this was none other than Jaime Lannister. Tywin's eldest son hit the ground like the rest of his brothers as I entered the room behind him.
Only to find King Scab himself tossing and turning under his sheets, murmuring to himself as he slept. That was soon fixed as I hit him with a Somnus maxima charm – sending him straight into the deepest sleep of his life. I drew a dagger (made of simple steel but perhaps one of the most intricate works Ben had ever made with the replica of Ancaleon roaring on the pommel) and a scroll Ben had sealed with his dragon sigil.
I pinned the scroll to one of the bedposts with the dagger – tacking it so that nothing within would be damaged but left it somewhere where Aerys would more than likely find it in the morning. And I had three copies of that scroll… Well, I was down to one now, having left one at the foot of the Iron Throne and one pinned to the bedpost. The one I gave Elia was tailored specifically for Doran. Right now, Ben was sending another letter similar to the one pinned to Aerys' bedpost to all of the High Lords of the Realm through some of the Ravens I trained. But, just to be sure, the scrolls were also portkeys that would drop the Ravens a mile from each castle in the realm so that they would certainly find their way to the lords of Westeros. By this time tomorrow, the realm would be ablaze.
Not something I looked forward to, but it was necessary…
But bloody Hell if I didn't want to kill the King in his bed.
No, he needed to live… At least for a little bit longer.
Ben was hoping that his message would grant the North independence… But the crown would never give an individual kingdom their independence – if one becomes independent then the rest would soon follow. The North would have to take it if it truly wanted its independence.
If Aerys gave into our demands, though? That was all the better.
But, then again, King Scab wasn't the most stable of men. More than likely, he'd kill everyone around him just because he could and demand the North burn before he gave in.
This was the chance for the North to prove its strength, and Merlin knew they would need to and do so in a spectacular show of force to regain the South's respect…
Or ire.
That was always a possibility too.
I sighed, shaking my head as I slipped out of King Scab's chambers and over Lannister's comatose form. Poor boy was probably being run ragged with only one man to spell one Kingsguard at a time… More than likely, that last one was getting as much sleep as he could because he would be on duty tomorrow.
Or he'd be dead. King Aerys wasn't exactly understanding.
Poor bastards.
That was the last thing I thought as I caught sight of a man in white armor leaning against the wall and snoring lightly. I snorted at the Kingsguard making my job easy.
But to his credit, even the soft huff of air was enough to get his attention. His eyes snapped open as his hand went down to his sword.
"Who goes there!?" He barked, looking around wildly before relaxing. "Seven hells… I'm not getting enough sleep…"
"Let me help you with that, mate." His eyes widened just in time for him to be caught full in the face with a stunner. I smirked, knocking lightly on the Queen's door as I removed my cloak. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman. A woman my age with brilliant violet eyes and flowing silver hair.
"Who are you?" The woman muttered, glaring at me. "Come to kill me? Get it over with then." She sneered, lifting her chin defiantly.
"If I wanted you dead, would I have knocked?" I smirked slightly as her lip quicked upward.
"Stranger things have been known to happen… Who are you then, stranger? What business have you here at this hour?"
"A simple mission, I've come to retrieve you. Your son is asking for you."
"What have you done to Viserys!?" She hissed, stepping out into the hall as she glared at me – her calm demeanor snapped at the threat to her son, real or imagined. I held my hands skyward as her eyes burned into mine.
"I simply asked him to pack. I can get you and your son out of the city but only if we leave now."
"Truly?" She blinked, taking a step back into her room. She obviously wasn't expecting that.
"Yes, my Queen, but we'll have to act quickly." I said as she nodded.
"I must get a cloak."
"You don't wish to pack?"
"I would have time?"
"I wouldn't be long, my Queen." She frowned and shook her head.
"No, if time is of the essence then I trust you will have suitable items for me when we arrive to our destination. Otherwise a cloak will service." I nodded, flicking my wand and producing a simple, hooded, long, black cloak from midair.
"Will this do?" I asked, holding the cloak out for her. Her eyes widened, but she took the cloak all the same, draping it over her shoulders.
"You're a witch?"
"Wizard." I said automatically, holding my hand out for her. She looked down but took it, hesitantly as it may have been. "This may be slightly uncomfortable." She nodded as I twisted my heel, reappearing in Viserys room. To her credit, Queen Rhaella only turned slightly green as her knees gave out, dropping her on the bed.
"Mother!" Viserys, holding a stack of clothes, cried as he leapt at her.
"Hello, Viserys." She said quietly, still battling back the nausea from her first experience with apparition.
"Did you hear? This man's going to take us North!"
"I- No. Who is he, Viserys?"
"My name is Harry Potter, your Highness. I am an old acquaintance of Lord Agonstark of Moat Cailin."
"Is that where we are going?"
"Yes. I am afraid your other son is also there."
"Rhaegar? Why is he at Moat Cailin?" She frowned. I winced, taking the third scroll from my cloak.
"Gemino." I tapped my wand to the scroll, duplicating it and passing her the duplicate as I placed the other on Viserys' nightstand. "It is all explained in this. Read quickly." She frowned, furrowing her brows as she broke the seal and began to read.
"No…" She gasped quietly.
"Aye, my lady. I witnessed it myself."
"Witnessed what? What is it, mother?"
"Don't trouble yourself with it, Viserys." I said, patting the little boy's head while the woman looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
"I- He's my son…"
"And she is Lo- someone's daughter." I corrected myself, glancing down at Viserys. "Will you still come with us?"
"I… Aye. I will."
"Excellent." I said, drawing a silver coin from my back pocket. "My Queen, little Prince? Please touch the coin." The mother and son looked at each other before looking down at the coin. Viserys pressed his finger to the coin as his mother did the same. "Memory."
King's Landing, Small Council Chambers…
The Next Day…
With Varys…
"What do you mean they're all gone!?" The King roared, twitching and shaking horribly, over the small council table as four of the seven men of the Kingsguard stood at the head of the room, each shamefaced.
"J-Just that, Your Grace." Jaime Lannister said, his ears burning red as he bowed his head. "They were taken in the night…"
"And you just let these- these snatchers take them!?" Aerys roared, spittle flying as he brayed at the Lannister. "Find them, Lannister! And you, Ser Barristan! Well? What are you waiting for? Damn you, go!" I barely managed to keep my face straight as I watched the king of the realm scream at his Kingsguard as the Bold and Ser Jaime bowed, rushing out of the room.
And so the Seven became Two.
"Your Grace-"
"Be silent, damn you!" Aerys howled at Ser Jonothor. "You let my wife be taken! Ser Leywn! Arrest him!"
"Yes, Your Grace." Prince Leywn said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder - obviously uncomfortable with doing so.
"Be grateful, desert rat! If I didn't need you alive to control your nephew, I'd arrest you too!"
"Of course, Your Grace," The Martell said, leading Ser Jonothor from the small council chambers as Aerys finally sat down - quivering in impotent rage.
"What do you plan to do to him, Your Grace?" Lord Staunton, the Master of Laws, asked.
"He will stand trial in front of the court, oh yes, oh yes he will," Aerys said almost gleefully, his eyes twinkling as he looked to his most… trusted advisor, Wisdom Rosshart - his high pyromancer. The pyromancer was almost as repulsive as the king himself but I dared not say it.
"Varys!" The King snapped, pulling me from my reverie.
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"What have your little birds said?"
"Nothing, your grace… It's as if the Queen, the Princesses, and the Prince disappeared with the wind." I frowned, folding my hands in my robes. "I, myself, was away investigating whispers in what used to be Flea Bottom, your grace, but they were for nothing. Two dockhands were heard… saying unsavory things about his Grace in a tavern. They are now residents of the black cells."
"As they should be!" Aerys snarled. "They'll face justice too!"
"Of the variety of Maester Pycelle?"
"Of course!" The King said as a grin split his face, revealing his rotting teeth - only to be interrupted by a timid knock at the door. My eyebrows climbed at the noise but the King had a much more emphatic reaction. "What!?" The king howled as a boy, bowing his head, ducked into the room holding a bare knife and a pair of scrolls. "What is this!? Assassin!?"
"N-no, your grace." The boy quivered, laying the dagger on the table hurriedly as he held out the scroll, trembling like a leaf in a gale. However, it wasn't the scrolls that interested me, rather it was the dagger. It was a fine piece, fine enough to rival Valyrian steel, but the metal was castle forged. Even if the work was from the hands of a highly skilled smith - that much was obvious. The blade itself was but a simple shape, but the ornate handle was what drew the eye - the detailed dragon looked as if it could come to life and bite the wielder. "I… I was making the prince's and Your Grace's quarters, cleanin' the chamber pot and changin' the sheets when I foun' it… It was… 'Twas stabbed onto your Grace's bedpost." Aerys went very still as he looked up at the trembling young man.
"Oh dear…" I muttered, producing a third scroll from my sleeve. "Perhaps that would explain this."
"Where did that come from, Lord Varys?" Lord Merryweather, Aerys' Hand, asked as he stood from the table, taking the dagger and the message from the lad. "Thank you, son. Go on, go back to your chambers." The boy nodded, looking around the room before darting away to whence he came.
"I am afraid it was at the foot of the Iron Throne, my Lord Hand." He frowned, breaking the seal and paling horribly. I waited as the Master of ships, Lord Velaryon took the second letter and turned grey. He trembled as the Hand finished the first letter.
"Oh… Oh no…"
"What!?" Aerys snapped as he glared at his Hand. "What does it say!?"
"Your Grace, if I may?" I asked, holding up my own scroll. He narrowed his eyes but nodded.
"Get on with it, then!" He snapped. I nodded, breaking the- the Dragon seal? I frowned but broke it anyway and began to read.
"Your Grace, it says This message is for… Oh… Oh my… I'm afraid that it says this message is for the man who calls himself Aerys II of House Targaryen and styles himself King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, or is to be read in his presence.
Your son, Rhaegar, who I refuse to acknowledge by any titles, is in my custody.
My name is Benjamin Agonstark, Lord of Moat Cailin, Bannerman and kin to House Stark. Lord Stark's seal is attached to the foot of this letter.
I write this message with his blessing.
I name your son a rapist.
I name your son a traitor.
I name your son an oathbreaker: to his office, to his knighthood, to his people.
He was caught in the act of rape. The rape of a daughter of House Stark.
The rape of…" I swallowed thickly before finishing the line. "The rape of Lyanna Stark."
'Oh… Oh no…' I thought, glancing around the small council chamber that was frozen in fear. Then I kept reading.
"He was caught in the act, as witnessed by Harry of House Potter, Brandon of House Stark, myself - Benjamin of House Agonstark, Gerold of House Hightower - who is to be delivered to his lord at the end of our discussions, and Oswell of House Whent - who is also to be delivered to his lord at the end our discussions.
The Punishment for the attack on a Stark is death.
The Punishment for the assault on any of the Lords Paramount, or their offspring, is death.
We will not kneel to Rhaegar.
We shall not kneel to a rapist.
We must not kneel to injustice.
Your crimes have also been noted, Aerys.
We demand Rhaegar be stripped of his Royal Title. We demand he be stripped of any claim to the Iron Throne and its lands.
We demand you abdicate your throne.
We will concede to you becoming Lord of Dragonstone and Rhaegar your heir to that rock.
Viserys is a boy, innocent of your sins and innocent of the sins of his brother. The North will kneel to him, to a Targaryen, as we have since the time of Aegon the Conqueror.
He, too, is in our custody. We hold him to ensure these demands are met. The Prince Viserys will not be harmed in any way. He will be cared for until you accept these terms listed.
And should these demands not be met?
We will close Moat Cailin to the South. We will repel any incursions along our coasts, as we have done for millennia.
The North will no longer pay its tax to the crown.
The North will no longer engage in any trade with the Iron Throne. We have enough food to survive a lengthy war in our larders but should that run dry, we have an alliance and an agreement with the Sealord of Braavos himself to secure our people grain should it come to that.
And Rhaegar will be dealt his righteous punishment.
Into the Inferno, for Winter is Coming for you and yours, Aerys.
Signed: Benjamin of House Agonstark, Lord of Moat Cailin. Lord Marshall of the Northern Army."
I swallowed thickly, looking up at the fuming, raging Aerys as he worked his jaw in the otherwise silent room.
"Your Grace?"
"They have my son? My sons?"
"Aye, your Grace." Lord Staunton whispered.
"They want me to abdicate the Iron Throne?"
"Aye, your Grace…"
"And Stark's seal is indeed attached?" I looked down at the foot of the letter, a Direwolf snarling up at me beside the roaring Dragon.
"Yes, your Grace, it is."
"Call the banners. All of them! And find all the Northmen in this city, bring them to the Throne Chamber! If the North thinks they can hold my son for doing as he pleases then they are mistaken, yes, very mistaken! Summon the Lords! Call the Banners! Raise the Dragon! I want this… This Agonstark's head on a spike!" Aerys snarled, rising to his feet as he slammed his fists against the table. "Wisdom Rosshart, attend me! I have justice to mete out!"
"Yes, your Grace! Right away, your Grace!" The old man said, rising to his feet and shuffling away in the wake of the enraged Targaryen.
"It's to be war then?" The Hand muttered, rubbing his face tiredly as he sat in his place at the table – ashen-faced as the rest of us.
"Aye… I will ready the Royal Navy. Moat Cailin, a ruin though it may be, is a formidable choke point," Velaryon said. "How many armies have been broken against it?"
"Every single one that's marched against it." Lord Staunton muttered darkly. "Gods above… We march to war and it was the North that was wronged."
"We do as his Grace commands," the Hand said automatically.
"Aye… But to rape Lord Stark's daughter? That is too far, my Lord Hand."
"Mayhaps… But as our King commands, thus shall we do. Lord Chelsted, do we have the finances for war?"
"We do. The Royal treasury is as strong as ever but I fear we will need to take loans before the war is over… If what they say is true, about them having an alliance with the Sealord–"
"A bridge to burn when we reach it, my Lord," the Hand sighed, shaking his head. "The North may be able to hold off a small army at the Moat now, but if we march in any number we will swiftly overwhelm them."
"I am not sure, my Lord." I frowned, thinking on the reports my little birds had sent from the new settlement on the White Knife – Riva, they called it. "I have heard songs that the Moat has been repaired, or at the worst she is being rebuilt."
"Then now is the time to strike! If the Moat is under construction and the Prince is being held there, it will be child's play to rescue the Prince!"
"Should we not try to negotiate, my Lords?"
"The North will not negotiate," I sighed, shaking my head. "What would you do if it were your daughter, Lord Velaryon?"
"I- I do not know… But I would not rebel against the crown."
"So you say… It is to be war, then?" Lord Staunton growled.
"Aye, it is…" I sighed, shaking my head. "I shall send the Ravens. In the absence of a Grand Maester, it falls to me to do so."
"No, I shall send the Ravens myself," Lord Merryweather said. "I am His Grace's Hand, I shall call the banners myself… Will the Stormlords ride for us?"
"My Lord Hand, why do you ask such a question?"
"Robert Baratheon is said to hold Eddard Stark as a brother. The Riverlands will not fight for us either as Eddard has married Lord Hoster's eldest daughter – Catelyn, is it?" I chimed in.
"Aye, that's the girl's name."
"Lord Hoster will not fight his kin. Family, Duty, Honor."
"Regardless of what his Grace believes, without Elia… Without Elia, Dorne will not rise for us either. The news that Rhaegar… That Rhaegar has…"
"Yes… We understand. My Lords, I fear the realm is about to fall to Chaos unknown to us since the time of the Conqueror," I sighed, my heart breaking for the realm and the people that would be lost in the coming war.
"May the gods protect us all…"
"Old and New."
"No, my Lord, I fear the old gods will have turned their backs on us. Only the Seven can protect us now. Be they willing…"