I've been having a think about the end of this story in a bit more detail. As some of you may know I like to jump ahead into the future and show how the realm is years later. For the most part this has been kept to at most a single chapter, but with this story I genuinely think I have enough for a short story… so depending on how that pans out there may be a sequel. That's a long way away though, so for now let's get into this chapter!

There's an overly obvious reference and 'fancast' in this chapter, so I won't spoil it here. It could potentially be eye rolling, but the House is a genuine Crownlander House that was mentioned last time and no members of it have been revealed in the books, so I'm having a bit of fun with it!

I hope you all enjoy this. I own nothing recognisable, those properties all belong to either HBO or George R R Martin.

The bad news just kept coming to the Red Keep, and even the King himself had returned to the Small Council to bleat on about the Targaryen boy coming for them. They had received a raven in the night from Lord Gyles Rosby about the surrender of Duskendale without a drop of blood being spilt and the worried Lord was requesting aid before they were at his doorstep. Joffrey wanted action whereas Tywin had already laid out a detailed plan for each of the seven gates of the city. If the sense of impending doom wasn't so great in Tyrion's mind, he would probably have found his nephew glaring daggers at his Father quite amusing.

"We should be doing something!" Joffrey was crying out as he waved the letter from Lord Rosby around in the air. "Not sitting here waiting for them!"

Tywin looked bored. "What would you have me do, Your Grace?" He asked dryly.

Joffrey was surprised that he was asked that, but he actually looked thoughtful for a moment. "Defeat the lesser host first. Join up with Lord Rosby's 3,000 men and crush this pretender! Then his cause is broken and his allies will come crawling back for forgiveness."

Even Tyrion knew that wouldn't happen. Tywin still just looked bored at the questioning. "Do you know of Jon Connington, Your Grace?"

Joffrey's first reaction was to turn to his Mother. Cersei sighed and stated. "He was a miserable fool, always pining after Rhaegar."

"He was loyal." Tywin said harshly. "There is no man alive more loyal to House Targaryen, and Lucerys isn't the only Targaryen."

"The women won't be a threat." Joffrey laughed.

"Visenya Targaryen." Tyrion called out. "She was more deadly that Aegon the Conqueror himself. Queen Alysanne was said to rule King Jaehaerys for the most part. Rhaenyra Targaryen successfully took the Throne despite not keeping it. Baela Targaryen successfully pulled the power of Lord Unwin Peake away from him, and Daena Targaryen birthed the Blackfyre cause." He stared at his nephew then. "Never underestimate a desperate woman, Your Grace. Their resentment cuts deep, and you will be their target."

"Daenerys Targaryen is set to marry Prince Trystane." Tywin explained. "The alliance with Dorne is going nowhere soon. Then there is the daughter."

"Visenya." Varys explained. "A babe with strong ties to the Free City of Lys, through her mother. Whereas there was animosity between the Golden Company and House Rogare of Lys, now there is amicable peace. If she is crowned as Queen, that could become a true alliance."

"A woman with a powerful family watching Westeros very closely, and of course, named after a formidable woman." Tywin noted, firmly finalising the point. "She will eventually be old enough to marry too and will add yet another powerful family to their alliance. And Jon Connington would die to put any of them on the Iron Throne over your corpse. Never has the realm seen a more driven, dedicated man to a cause since Bittersteel, and I'm sure you stayed in your lessons for long enough to understand why we do not want another Bittersteel, Your Grace?" Joffrey simply gulped and nodded. "Good. Then we shall not leave King's Landing free for Jon Connington and the Dornish host to attack. We shall defend the walls and outlast them. We have enough food inside the capital for the Red Keep to survive for years."

But the Red Keep wasn't the only part of the city to be sieged, though Tyrion knew not to bring up a defence of the smallfolk in front of both Tywin and Joffrey. "We do need additional men though, Father." He said instead. "With House Buckler added to the southern threat and House Rykker added to the northern one, we need to even the odds a little."

Tywin nodded. "You are right." He said reluctantly. "I need Kevan, and I need half of the Harrenhal force. If they ride quickly, they will get here before the Targaryen given his need to subjugate the entire Crownlands." Tywin scribbled a letter out. "Pycelle, send this to Harrenhal."

The Grand Maester took it with shaky hands and rose to his feet. "At once, Lord Tywin."

"I shall have to fund some sellswords as well." Tywin stated. "We can hold the Targaryen off for months, given the failure of Stafford at Oxcross we have no more strength in the West, and there is plenty of time to gather a host from Essos."

Cersei looked horrified. "You would abandon the Rock?"

Tywin snapped, and his unusually unflappable demeanour broke as he slammed his fist on the table. "I cannot fight on three fronts!" He shouted. "Robb Stark is abandoning the West, but he is still King in the North and is simply biding his time to wait and see what happens here. Randyll Tarly has already carved out a portion of my lands and will soon have Crakehall, meaning Lannisport and Casterly Rock will soon be open to him! I can either focus on destroying him to save the Rock, or abandoning the West to save the Iron Throne." He sighed and tried to calm himself down. "The Iron Throne is the prize, if we have that, we have power despite the odds against us." The room was silent at the outburst, and Tywin just scowled. "Leave me." Nobody hesitated, but unfortunately for Tyrion his stature meant he couldn't leave his chair as quickly as the others and Tywin spoke once again. "You stay."

Not wanting to push Tywin's already fragile boundaries, Tyrion nodded. "What would you have of me?"

"This will be my last war." Tywin stated. "However this ends, there will be no more for me. I will be remembered for how this is resolved." Tyrion gulped as green eyes bore down into him. "I have never been fond of you, but you are a Lannister. I trust you will do whatever is necessary to ensure House Lannister remains on top."

That was as nice a comment that Tyrion had heard from his Father and reading between the lines the Imp decided he was almost officially being confirmed as heir. "I love my family, Father, whether they care for me back or not."

"Good." Tywin said sternly. "Then I will have some food and wine sent for. Your silver tongue may have vexed me countless times, but if we can find a way to get the Targaryen to stand down without our heads ending on spikes, then I will confirm you as my heir."

After at least a full minute of utter shock being evident on the dwarf's face, he hopped back into his chair and clapped his hands together. "Let us get to work then."

Rosby was a small castle, and the true beauty of the seat was the surrounding areas. The apple orchards and the large barley fields had come to King's Landing's aid throughout history many times, and by the looks of the place it was doing so again with the fields half harvested early.

Luke's army was three hours further north on the Rosby Road, but as he had done with every castle in the north-eastern Crownlands, he was there to offer Lord Gyles Rosby one chance to join him. Beside him he had Ser Rolly Duckfield as well as the men that would show off his new power base, with Lord Celtigar, Lord Rykker and Lord Staunton all beside him on horseback, with the Staunton bodyguard Ser Taron Edgerton holding the white banner of parley in front of one guard from each of the other houses that had bent their knees to Luke. They were on the Rosby Road, waiting for the party of Lord Gyles to arrive.

Thankfully, they hadn't waited for long and from the village surrounding the castle a party of ten came riding out. At its head was an elderly man dressed in white and red finery, and Luke noticed that most of the man's horses were dressed finer than the majority of his army. The group of ten came to a halt 50 yards away from Luke.

"Lord Gyles Rosby." One of the guards announced.

Luke nodded and allowed Ser Rolly to introduce him. "King Lucerys of the House Targaryen, Captain-General of the Golden Company. Rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Beside him are Lords…"

"I know who they are." Lord Gyles bit harshly. "Renfred, you damned traitor."

Lord Rykker bristled from beside Luke. "It is the new times, Gyles." The man called back. "You know the truth now, you would die in service to a bastard?"

"I would die in service to my King." Gyles snapped, but he quickly brought out a red cloth trimmed with gold and coughed ferociously into it.

Luke waited for the man to regain his composure before he spoke. "You seem unwell, Lord Gyles. A man with a succession as unsecure as yours should know when he is beaten. Bend the knee to your rightful liege, My Lord, and you shall rise again stronger and as my friend, and I ensure my friends are well looked after. Fail to do so and raise your blades against me, and you shall join Lords Brune and Hardy and see your House burn to the ground."

Gyles looked unsure of himself, and Luke waited as the Maester at his side leaned into the Lord's ear and the pair had a quick conversation where Lord Gyles seemed angry and agitated. After two minutes or so of Luke growing impatient, Lord Gyles, now looking older and resigned to whatever fate was to come for him, called back over to the Targaryen. "I want my late sister's son legitimised if I am to bend my knee to you."

A legitimisation in return for a quick surrender, Luke could see the merits of that. "Bring your bastard nephew to me and allow me to speak with him." Luke countered.

"I want him legitimised before that, Your Grace. Many nearby Houses would love to stake a claim on my lands, some of which stand at your side, and I would rather die before I brought him out without noble protection."

"I am not one to allow the murder of children, Lord Rosby." Luke growled. "My own niece and nephew died as babes at the hands of monsters, I would not betray their memory by allowing the slaughter of innocents."

Rosby looked unsure, but he sighed dramatically and nodded, turning to one of his guards and giving him an inaudible order. And so the group waited in silence for almost five minutes, when the mounted knight returned to the parlay with a young teenaged boy sat with him.

"This is Ronnal." Gyles muttered unhappily, gesturing for the knight to bring his horse level with his own.

Luke took in the appearance of the boy. He was large for his young age and could be no more than thirteen years old. He had a curly head of black hair and Luke could eve make out his piercing blue eyes from the distance they were at. He noticed Lord Rykker moving towards him and leaned in to let the Lord of Duskendale whisper.

"There are rumours, Your Grace. That the true father of the boy is the Usurper himself." Renfred whispered. "I have met him many a time, he certainly has the looks and the temperament of the Stags."

And that was all it took for Luke's eyes to narrow in anger. "Ronnal, you say." Luke called over to Lord Gyles. "Your sisters bastard."

"Yes, Your Grace. Sired by an evil footman who wanted what he could not have." Gyles lied. Luke could see the squirming of the old man's hands.

"Boy, come closer." Luke called, and was happy that Gyles held out a hand to stop the knight from moving. "I do not appreciate being lied to, Lord Rosby, nor do I appreciate you trying to trick me into legitimising the Usurper's spawn."

Gyles' eyes turned angry too. "He is a boy!" The old man shouted. "And you swore yourself, Targaryen, that you would not murder innocents."

Luke scowled. "Stagspawn are not innocents." He then reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a thin bone whistle, blowing into it.

To most the noise wasn't even audible and the Rosby party were all looking at Luke like he had a second head, but Luke put the whistle away after a single blow and reached down to where Blackfyre was strapped to his destrier. Lord Rosby's horse reared up and the old man looked furious. "This is a parlay!" He shouted.

"Hand over the bastard, and I will forget your insult." Luke snarled loudly. "We shall begin these talks again."

Gyles could see what Luke wanted though. "He is of my sisters blood, I will protect him with my life."

And that was that. Luke nodded his acceptance of that and withdrew Blackfyre. "So be it." He said finally, and he charged.

He could hear the sounds of his allies swords all being drawn as he rode, and he quickly closed the gap between the Targaryen and Rosby parties. Blackfyre was hacked through one knight's arm, severing the limb before Luke swiped back skilfully and took his head off too. Then he reared his horse and found Rosby trying to escape, though Luke's horse was faster, and it was only a matter of moments before the Targaryen drove the Valyrian Steel through the horses skull. As the Rosby horse fell he saw a pair of riders chasing down the bastard, now alone on horseback after the death of his protector. Happy that the boy would soon be in his grasp, Luke turned his horse around to see Gyles Rosby trying to free a trapped leg from his dead mount.

Luke dismounted his horse after seeing that it had simply been a slaughter instead of a battle, and he walked over to the fallen Rosby Lord, pulling the screaming man out from under the horse corpse. His right leg was mangled and crushed, but Luke felt no sympathy as he dragged the Rosby by the scruff of the neck back to where they had been speaking a couple of minutes earlier.

"You broke peace talks." Gyles cried through the pain. "The Gods will curse you."

Luke shook his head. "The Gods will forgive me for bringing justice to a deceiver." He explained, throwing Gyles Rosby down by the bodies of his men. The only one still standing was the Maester, who had been dragged aside by Lord Staunton.

A couple of moments later and the thundering of hooves was heard again, and Ser Taron had the boy laid across his horse, the knight's shield peppered with arrows. Lord Rykker was with him and the pair also dismounted, dragging the kicking and screaming boy with them.

"He tried to get to the castle to bar the doors." Renfred explained. "Ser Taron caught him before saving my life from the archers on the walls."

Luke nodded, shaking the free hand of Ser Taron. "You have my thanks, Ser."

"Just doing my duty, Your Grace." The knight bowed his head.

Turning his attention now to the pair of prisoners that were kneeling at his feet, Luke's scowl had returned. "I was ready to lift you up, Lord Rosby. To grant you a Martell marriage in order to save your House, but instead you tried to deceive me. For that your lands will be forfeit, your line extinguished, and the nephew you swore to die for will die."

"Cunt." Gyles Rosby spat at Luke's feet. "Your blood has madness in it, everyone will think twice after hearing what happened here today. Your conquest will flounder at the gates of King's Landing…"

The shrill cry of Valaxes stopped the man in his venomous speech, and from the skies above the small black dragon, now roughly the size of a small dog, flew down and perched itself on Luke's shoulders. "Mine is the blood of dragons, Lord Rosby." Luke replied icily. "Fire runs within it, and my enemies shall burn in my wake. We could have been friends, allies, but instead you and your nephew shall be the first on the shores of Westeros to burn in dragon fire since the Dance of the Dragons."

The boy looked scared, but Lord Gyles, to his credit, knelt straighter and closed his eyes. "So be it. I die an honest man, in the service of my King."

Luke smirked. "Your King will join you soon enough, Lord Rosby." He tickled Valaxes' chin and gave the final command that the Rosby's would ever hear. "Dracarys."

The dragon cocked his head at the command and looked directly at the kneeling prisoners. At first the little beast simply coughed out smoke, but then it tried again and shot out a quick burst of fire, catching the bastard's clothes alight. The boy began screaming as he tried to put the fire out, but then another burst hit him in the chest and soon his entire shirt was burning.

"NO!" Gyles Rosby cried, but then it was his turn as Valaxes aimed at him, and this time a steady, constant stream of fire hit him, igniting his clothing and his hair almost instantly. Luke watched in silent awe as the pair were engulfed in dragon fire, and he didn't even blink until both bodies had fallen to the ground lifelessly.

Once there had been no screaming or movement for a while, Luke took a deep breath and scratched Valaxes warm chin again. "Good boy." He whispered, before he turned to the Maester. "Take me into the castle, Once Rosby has surrendered their arms to me, we will begin to discuss the future."

The Maester, Melwys, could only nod quickly in shock. "Y… yes, Your Gr… Grace." He stammered, leading the Targaryen and his dragon nervously up towards the castle, the burning husks of his former Lord and ward still aflame at their backs.

It had taken longer than expected for the mass of men to exit the Kingswood. Up until the crossing of the Wendwater it had been easy enough, and Lord Reynard Wendwater had very quickly bent his knee and joined them with his own strength. After crossing however, their baggage lines were continuously being attacked by men of the Vale Mountain Clans. Oberyn had then had his fun with the prisoners and had taken a group of men with Ser Loras to rout the savages while Jon led the majority through the Kingswood.

It was a relieved host as the last line of trees were left behind them, and Dusk was soon upon them, so Jon sounded the orders to raise a camp before the final push tomorrow, though he, Ser Barristan and Ser Ronnet all travelled a little further up the King's Road to a hill that the elder two men knew well, as the peak of the hill gave travellers their first view of King's Landing.

"Rhaegar hated this hill." Jon noted, a hint of amusement in his words. "It always meant returning to being scrutinised under Aerys' thumb, and he always preferred being free as he travelled to Summerhall."

"I only went the once, after the fire." Ser Barristan explained. "I never understood why he liked the ruins there so much."

"He hated the ruins." Jon explained. "But Summerhall made him feel closer to his family for some reason." Rhaegar had never explained it to him fully, but Jon would never have tried to push the true reasons from his Silver Prince's mouth. He shook his head though and stared down at the city in the far distance. "The last time I saw that red brick I was smuggling a child away. I heard months later about the Sack of King's Landing, and now we are here to take the city again."

"Tywin Lannister ordered what he did in order to stoke the fires of the people against those that were meant to protect them in case they had a prolonged siege of the Red Keep itself." Barristan explained. "We are not Tywin Lannister."

"There are already soundings of riots and unease within the city as it is." Ronnet told them. "Renly, before he died, had heard whispers of riots and the King mercilessly killing those that rose up."

That could play into their hands, Jon realised. "They have little food coming in now that we are taking over the Crownlands, and they are getting nothing from any of the other Kingdom's."

"Perhaps we take a leaf out of Lord Tyrell's book then." Ronnet shrugged. "Bring about dissent with a wafting smell of suckling pig." It had its merits, but Jon still thought ill of the man that had spent the Rebellion sat outside a castle feasting rather than fighting.

"If we are to be sat outside King's Landing sieging calmly, perhaps you could send for your wife." Jon joked with a wry smile, something that surprised his kinsman.

Ronnet laughed. "She will be far safer in Bronzegate, and perhaps the time apart could make me dread this union less." He shuddered. "6 years my senior and I have no idea what she was doing during the bedding, flailing around like a wanton…"

"We do not need to know." Jon interrupted, feeling unwell. "So long as you get her with child."

Ronnet scoffed. "I have a younger brother and a fine young son already, bastard born or not. Either of them would do well as Knight of the Roost."

"Perhaps Lord of the Roost soon enough." Jon noted. "Those that joined the Usurper and profited in the Rebellion stuck with Stannis this time around, I will personally try and persuade the King to restore lands and titles."

Ronnet looked proud at the thought, but he didn't get to say anything as a rider arrived from behind them on the Kingsroad. "Lord Hand!" He was calling. Jon turned and noticed the surcoat showing the sigil of House Celtigar.

"Ser Edwell?" Ronnet Connington asked with a grin. "You're a long way from home."

The Celtigar knight nodded, dismounting his horse. "Our King bid me to ride as fast as I could towards your host, avoiding King's Landing, Ser Ronnet." He said, bowing his head towards Jon. "My Lord, I am Ser Edwell Celtigar, eldest son of Lord Lucan."

"Welcome, Ser." Jon greeted. "What news does His Grace have for us?"

"Rosby has fallen, Lord Gyles is dead." Edwell explained, handing Jon a sealed letter. "He has his news and commands in this letter here."

Jon broke the seal and strained to read the writing in the growing darkness. "Rosby is ours and Luke has a plan on how to resolve the Rosby succession issue." He explained to the other two. "He wishes for us to surround the entire city."

"We'll need more men to surround it efficiently enough to siege all the walls." Barristan stated.

Jon knew that and groaned quietly at the thought. "Ronnet, ride the Roseroad and bring Mace Tyrell's force. We'll need as many men as we can get."

"I'll leave at once, Lord Hand." Ronnet bowed, and quickly made his way back to the camp.

Jon took one last look back at King's Landing before he gestured for the others to follow him. "Come, Ser Edwell, you must get some rest after your journey." He said to the Celtigar, before looking at Ser Barristan. "You should find Prince Oberyn, Ser. The King has asked him which daughter he would have legitimised to become Lady Rosby and wed a Frey."

Even Barristan the Bold looked nervous at being the one to deliver that news.

The Crackclaw host arrived outside of King's Landing first as high noon approached, closely followed by the ships of House Velaryon to blockade Blackwater Bay. No sooner had Luke's personal tent been erected had sounds of battle been heard in the distance, and after sending a scout to see what was going on, Luke was pleased to hear that Jon was in the process of taking control of the ferries that the people of King's Landing used to cross the Blackwater Rush.

By nightfall, the city was surrounded. It wasn't yet enough men to warrant a full-scale attack, but the banners of House Targaryen were flapping in the wind outside all six of the land facing gates, an image meant to cause panic within the Red Keep and salvation in the city. Luke invited all of his Lords in the party for a large feast, generously supplied by Rosby, and he sat close to Jon, Prince Oberyn and Ser Loras as they faced the Dragon's Gate.

"I hear you have decided to marry off my daughter without my knowledge." Oberyn smirked as he bit into a pie.

Luke nodded. "Rosby's inheritance is… tricky. Claimants are all over the local area, as well as in the Riverlands. Lord Rosby's distant cousin married Walder Frey and had four sons before she died, so if I offer the castle to the eldest of them, perhaps I can encourage Lord Walder's loyalty no matter what the Tully's decide to do."

Oberyn nodded his acceptance. "I cannot say I am thrilled about allowing a Frey into Nymeria's bed, but she is best suited to be a northern Lady. Her Mother was a highborn in Volantis, the daughter of an Elephant I believe."

That was news to Luke. "I have only had dealings with the Tiger of the trio, but he is a good friend." The Targaryen explained. "But from now until the end of her days, I decree that your daughter be known as Nymeria Martell, trueborn daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell."

Oberyn looked proud and bowed his head. "I have finished my meal, would His Grace excuse me so that I can tell her the good news."

Luke nodded his agreement and waited for the Dornish Prince to depart. "A dangerous precedent." Jon noted quietly.

"I know of the Sand Snakes, Your Grace." Loras agreed. "They are ambitious."

"And Oberyn knows that I will not legitimise any more of his bastards." Luke explained to them. "I have heard the rumours of them all, and Nymeria was my choice too. She will wed and bed the Frey that I shall pick once peace comes to the Riverlands and Rosby shall be secured by loyalists."

"You're thinking politically." Jon accepted. "But your execution of Rosby was rash."

Luke knew that, but he wouldn't pretend he cared. "House Baratheon will be lost to history by the time I am finished, Jon. This was a bastard child being brought up as a noble, fully aware of his parentage and history. He was a danger, and I will end all of the Usurper's bastards with ideas above their station." He said bluntly. "Do not fight me on this, you will lose."

He waited as Jon took in the information and was happy when Jon nodded his head in agreement. "As you say." The Hand of the King rose to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, Your Grace. I must get some rest before tomorrow."

Luke nodded. "Go, my friend." And another of his guests departed leaving Luke at the table alone with his future good brother. "Ser Loras, we will have enough time to speak of battles and sieges once the Lannisters send their envoys. Tonight, perhaps you'd enlighten me with some stories of your sister…"

A desperate Tywin is very interesting to write, and I really enjoyed that entire scene. He's surrounded on all sides so I can't see even Tywin Lannister being confident. That scene was also fun because of the historical aspect, an area of the fandom that I really love.

In the books there is a little bit of a mystery over at Rosby with regards to Lord Gyles' ward. My favoured theory is that it is Olyvar, sent away before the Red Wedding. Obviously here that isn't the case, so I am using another theory that I've seen and that I also like, that the ward is a hidden bastard of Robert Baratheon's named after a Baratheon from 250 years earlier. Luke was a bit hypocritical here when he killed the child after saying he doesn't kill children, but in his eyes all Baratheons and Lannisters at the moment deserve nothing but death. Maybe that will change though…

And yes… Taron Edgerton was the fancast. When I saw that House mentioned in the list of Crownlanders I felt it too amusing to not take it up. Ser Taron of House Edgerton will play a part further, purely because I find it funny.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Next Time: Terms are discussed, and plans are made…

Reviews:

Tony McNucklz: Cat won't dismiss her outright as Brienne is too useful, she just needs to be away for the moment and she won't be trusted by Robb for a long time. But then again Brienne is still a noble from the Stormlands and the heir to Tarth despite what the show said, though her Father sails with Stannis as it stands. The Bolton's are still in play yes, but the Lannister's haven't arranged anything yet so to betray House Stark is effectively a death sentence at this point. If Robb fights Luke, then he will fight back for sure, but we also know what Luke's opinion of Aerys is so I doubt he will hold too much of a grudge against many of the rebellious houses, only those that aided or profited from the murder of his family.

Guest (Lucerys' daughter): Luke is following the tradition of male primogeniture, so any son by Margaery will automatically become heir. Of course he could do what Viserys I did, but he won't because he knows his history.

Guest (Velaryon's): Monterys is currently 8 as of 301 AC when this chapter takes place and will play a part at some point in the story further down the line.

Gtopia: They do it because she doesn't care, she's old and has lived her life etc. I don't think Luke would be that drastic given that he's marrying into House Tyrell, but she certainly wouldn't have insults just laughed away. As for Robb and Luke coming to terms, well they both have to live that long…

Tertius711: I guess I just can't win. If I have it being extremely easy with everybody bending the knee to him then I get called unimaginative and boring. This way it shows that Luke is like his ancestor Aegon I in his ideals when it comes to conquest, and it also gives the Golden Company chances to gain from following him for so long.

Anonymous: I wouldn't say that Shireen had being forcibly wed to a man older than her Father coming but you seem to have an odd hatred of Baratheons... Smallfolk too, because Davos is a valuable hostage as he knows Stannis better than probably anybody alive at this point. Luke also already has the bones of an enemy interred in his ship in Euron Greyjoy, so no room.

Dipsyy: I hope I do them justice for you then!