What's this… an update less than three months after my last one? Thankfully, I was right in that uploading again would spur my creativity and I already have Chapter 27 completed, so I thought I'd get this one out there to try and keep that creative buzz going.
I hope you all enjoy this! I own nothing but the OC's, all the actual characters and locations are the property of George R R Martin.
Despite the sorrow that filled Robb as he watched the burning boat of his Grandfather sail down the Trident, there was a whole other host of emotions clouding the King in the North's mind. Concern for his Mother who had been holding back tears all throughout the ceremony, embarrassment for his Uncle Edmure, who had taken three attempts at firing the flaming arrow onto the boat before the new Lord Tully handed his bow over to Ser Brynden Blackwood to ensure that the funeral boat was lit before it turned the meander. Finally he was feeling a sense of unease as he knew he was in the wrong place, yet he wasn't leaving for the North for another three days.
Yet instead, immediately after the funeral party had moved back inside the castle Robb found himself inside the war room with his Uncle Edmure barely listening to a story of the conquest of Harrenhal as the Stark pondered over a map of the southern North.
"… captured half a dozen Western Lords and heirs, that I would be more than willing to start the process of ransoming, with your agreement?" Edmure was saying. "And I also wish to split some of my force off towards Maidenpool. The Southern forces camped on the border worry me and Maidenpool is an important…"
"Do it." Robb interrupted. "You are right, Maidenpool is an important town and we may need it if peace talks with the Targaryen go poorly." He just wished for this conversation to be over so that he could think.
Edmure actually looked surprised, but he nodded. "Thank you, nephew." He stated.
"With any luck our precaution will be unnecessary, but I'm not willing to take that risk." Robb explained. "With my focus needing to be on the North I'm relying on you to keep our Southern borders secure." Robb knew that his Great-Uncle would probably scoff and complain about the trust Robb was putting in the Tully Lord, but the Stark was counting on initial peace talks starting well before the famous Blackfish could then take over at Harrenhal.
"I shall send word to Karyl that Maidenpool be reinforced with an extra 3,000 men." Edmure responded, although he hesitated, waiting for Robb's agreement on the number before leaving. Robb gave the nod, and Edmure smiled brightly, bowing his head before departing and leaving him in silence. Robb stared intensely at the flaming stag carving that was looming dangerously close to the eastern banks of the Last River, knowing full well that his information was weeks old at best and that the Stormlander could be already sat inside the Dreadfort planning his next move.
His musings were brought to an end abruptly when a loud rap at the door sounded. Groaning at the interruption, Robb called out irritably. "What is it?"
"Sorry, Your Grace." A Tully guard opened the door and stared at the floor. "But there's a group here that will only speak to you. They say they have information about your sister."
Robb's jaw almost dropped to the floor, but he quickly gathered his emotions and followed the men at a near jog down from the war room to the courtyard, where he spotted a red-haired man with carvings in his forehead surrounded by a small group of armed men.
"Lord Stark." The red head bowed.
"King." A man in Stark armour that was escorting the group corrected angrily. "This is King Robb of House Stark…"
"He knows who I am, Goren." Robb could tell just by the smirk on the man's face. "As I know who he is. You are a very brave outlaw wandering into such a place, Thoros of Myr."
Thoros grinned. "Outlawed by a dead and deposed King." He countered. "Here to seek a reward."
"We'll see if your information is worthwhile first." Robb told him. "What do you know of Sansa?"
"Sansa? Nothing." Thoros shrugged.
Robb felt his face mould into a scowl. "I was told…"
"I have information on your sister, yes." Thoros nodded. "But not Sansa."
That got his attention. "Arya?" Robb almost whispered. "Where is she?" There was a moment of silence as Thoros and Robb stared between one another before the outlaw stepped to one side and stood just behind him was a small boy like child. Robb however knew differently and looked past the dirty bob haircut into his sisters grey eyes. His own eyes almost immediately began brimming with tears as he dropped down to one knee and allowed his sister to come rushing into his arms, her own gripping around his neck tightly. "You're alive." He whispered into her matted hair. "You're alive."
"I thought I'd never see you again." Arya whispered back, her own face buried into his neck.
Robb swallowed back a sob as he rose back to his feet, his sister still wrapped around his neck tightly. "Someone fetch my Mother." He ordered, but he needn't have bothered as the man sent to find him hadn't been the only one dispatched, and as Robb turned to face the castle he saw Catelyn running from the main keep. He set Arya down and allowed her to run to greet Cat, and Robb felt another tear drop at the sobbing coming from his Mother as she tightly embraced her youngest daughter.
"Arya, oh Arya." Cat was almost howling.
Robb wiped his eyes and turned back to Thoros. "You have my thanks. Please, allow me to host you this evening. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours for as long as you need it, and you shall have your reward."
"Your Grace." Thoros bowed his head, before the priest and his men were escorted into the castle, allowing Robb to slowly direct his still sobbing Mother and sister inside as well, where they would properly reunite and the stories of their ordeals would soon be shared, all thoughts of the ongoing wars out of the Stark King's mind for the time being.
The Dreadfort was a castle that truly fit the name. Damp and dreary, even a man like Stannis Baratheon did not wish to stay there longer than was absolutely necessary. It was a tougher victory than Stannis would have initially liked, and his scouts had underestimated the number of guards defending the castle having expected more to have travelled Southwards with Stark, but it had been a victory all the same for the Baratheon and Karstark forces.
Even the Lord's solar was grim. The map of Westeros was stretched out and hung like flayed skin and the only natural light that entered the room came from two out of reach windows on one wall. It made Stannis' skin crawl just sitting in the Lord's chair, though he would never show that weakness.
His wife and Melisandre was also in the room, the former sat down at the same table as Stannis glaring towards the fireplace where the Red Woman was studying the flames intently.
"It's unnatural." Alys Karstark spat.
"R'hllor is the God that blessed your union with the King." The Red Woman explained. "The one true God that has led us to this victory."
Alys scoffed. "You took a castle without it's Lord even being in the country and were bled for your efforts. Some victory."
"Yet victory all the same." Stannis countered. "And 10,000 men can take Moat Cailin from the Ironborn as well as hold off an army from the South." He turned to Melisandre. "Do you see anything?"
Melisandre crouched down to be at eye level with the dancing flames, and an eery silence fell over them for a couple of minutes. "I see a fawn." She whispered. "It is wearing a crown… dancing on red stone."
Stannis' eyes widened. "A crowned fawn… a son… an heir." He whispered, noticing Alys' frown returning to her face in the corner of his eye. "What else?"
"I see you, My King." Melisandre announced. "Knee deep in mud holding a sword over your enemy…" She leaned in so close that Stannis thought her nose might catch fire, but he then noticed her slump in disappointment. "I see no more, only that."
That was enough. "Moat Cailin is surrounded by bogs." Stannis knew. "If I am seen in mud about to defeat an enemy… did you see who that was?" He asked.
Melisandre turned back to him and shook her head as he poured out some lemon water for him. "I did not, they were faceless."
"It matters not." Stannis surmised. "I will be victorious at Moat Cailin just as I was here. The Ironborn shall fall, and Stark will bend the knee or die." He took a large gulp of the drink and then held his hand out to Alys. "Come, wife. The Red God has predicted we are to create a son tonight. We should not ignore his signs."
Alys' frown turned into a true scowl, but the Karstark girl rose to her feet and stormed past Stannis all the same, heading towards the Lord's chambers. Stannis paused a minute to stare at the Red Woman's knowing smirk before he followed the Northern girl to fulfil his marital duty.
"Say that again."
For the first time in Luke's official reign the Small Council chamber was full with the arrival of Grand Maester Gormon. Another Tyrell inside his inner circle rankled the Targaryen King as he knew that Mace Tyrell's uncle had not been appointed by chance, but there were potentially bigger problems coming to his attention than the Grand Maester.
He was stood up facing away from the Small Council chamber, staring up at a picture of King Aegon V as his spymaster repeated the statement.
"Lord Hoster Tully has passed, Your Grace. My little birds have whispered that his funeral has taken place with Lord Edmure returning to Riverrun after a period of absence." Varys explained. "Robb Stark was also in attendance."
"Why wasn't Edmure Tully already in Riverrun?" Monford Velaryon asked.
It was Jon that responded. "Harrenhal." He surmised. "Ser Brynden wasn't lying when he claimed that House Tully had retaken the castle."
"I have had word from Lord Manwoody that Lannister bodies litter the border between Crownlands and Riverlands." Prince Oberyn added to the debate. "Scare tactics from the Tully's."
"They are weakened." Jon pushed towards Luke. "Edmure Tully isn't his Father, whilst the North ravaged the West, Tully sent his forces to defend their homes. A few raids towards Maidenpool could drag him out…"
"No." Luke stated firmly, turning back to face his Small Council as he placed his hands on the back of his chair, leaning his body weight into it. "We are barely started with peace talks that could see both the North and the Riverlands re-join the fold without further bloodshed. I have proved our strength in the field by taking King's Landing and defeating Tywin Lannister. Now I shall prove my diplomacy."
"The Conqueror would never…"
"Aegon and his sister-wives had three fully grown dragons capable of melting Harrenhal!" Luke was almost shouting at Jon by this point. "At this point I have three dragons only just capable of hunting for their own food provided said food is no bigger than a newborn lamb. I cannot rely on the fear tactic of dragons, Jon. I must rely on what we do have at our disposal, an envoy of House Tully and Robb Stark's greatest advisor within our walls willing to negotiate a peace." He took a moment to take a breath, thankful that Jon wasn't willing to argue any further. "But his brother has also just died."
"What do you plan on doing, Your Grace?" Mace asked.
Luke thought for a moment. "Speaking with Ser Brynden, one on one." He surmised. "Please, carry on the wedding arrangements and other business without me, I must see to this now."
Picking up Blackfyre from beside his chair and the scrap of parchment that announced the news from Riverrun, Luke didn't waste a moment of time as he strapped the sword to his hip as he walked out of the doors of the Small Council Chamber, leaving the seven men in charge of council business once again. He quickly strode through the Throne Room heading towards Maegor's Holdfast, and a few minutes later he was stood inside the comfortable chambers that the famous Blackfish had been given.
"I wasn't expecting to meet until later." The Blackfish commented.
Luke nodded. "There was news that you must be made aware of from Riverrun." He explained mournfully, handing out the raven letter and stepping backwards to allow the Tully some space.
To the King's surprise, Ser Brynden only sighed sorrowfully. "I knew this day would come." He stated bluntly. "I spent too many years feuding with him."
"You are of course free to return as soon as you wish." Luke explained. "You are not my prisoner, and I cannot agree to all of Robb Stark's terms as they are written because I simply do not have the power to do so, whilst you will not agree to the North bending the knee without the express agreement of Robb Stark."
"I will not." Ser Brynden nodded.
"Then I shall say this." Luke began, sitting down at the desk in the room and reading aloud what he was writing. "I, Lucerys Targaryen, do hereby agree to a formal truce until such a time I can travel and agree terms with Robb Stark in person after the Royal Wedding. As a token of my goodwill, I return the Valyrian Steel sword Ice, and as many bones of fallen Northmen as are intact." He then leaned over to heat some red wax over a candle and stamped his seal to the bottom of the page, then rolling it up and handing it to the Tully Knight. "You will also take with you as many letters as Sansa sees fit to write her family members."
"Very generous." The Blackfish remarked, and Luke couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not.
Standing up once more, Luke continued speaking. "I have no wish for bloodshed between our Houses. We were at war not so long ago it is true, but even as young as I was I have memories of my Father. It is Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister that held my anger for the Rebellion, not a man that wasn't born until towards the end of the conflict. Tell Robb Stark that, I truly wish to see peace between us."
"I will relay the message, though the Northerners suffered much." Brynden explained.
"We all did." Luke muttered darkly, thinking on his Mother. "You truly do have my sympathies, Ser Brynden. Losing a family member is no easy thing." He bowed his head in a sign of respect before he left the room to allow the Tully to start his preparations.
As Ser Brynden was preparing his retinue to depart with wagons of bones and a rather large Greatsword, Luke had been kept busy almost all day with wedding decisions. Maiden's Day was also a couple of weeks away and Jon had insisted on the crown making an extremely large fuss over the future Queen's purity and so meetings about both events happening in consecutive days had drained Luke to the point of crashing on the couch in the royal chambers as soon as he had managed to excuse himself from a discussion about how many flowers were needed.
As he thought about ordering some dinner, Luke could almost feel himself begin to doze off when a rap on the door sounded. "Your Grace." Ser Raymund Connington called. "The Princess Daenerys."
"Send her in." He called sleepily, and in stepped Daenerys wearing an extremely low-cut green and gold dress. The door shut behind her, and the King noticed that his sister was holding a pair of decanters filled almost to the brim with wine.
"I heard you were getting frustrated at the planning." She smirked at him. "I came to help you relax."
Luke chuckled at that, gesturing to the seat next to him as he leaned over to the table to grab a pair of goblets. "How many flowers does one need for a single day? And Seven help the poor soul that actually has to count seventy thousand of the things."
"Seventy thousand flowers?" Dany's eyes widened.
"Seven is a holy number, and we want to be blessed." Luke shrugged, taking his first gulp before continuing. "And we also need to project House Targaryen and Tyrell strength, so the excessive amount. Lady Olenna wanted seventy-seven courses too. I dragged her down to seven."
Grinning, Dany took a sip of wine herself. "What will you do with them afterwards?"
Luke groaned. "Margaery can deal with that so long as they go." It was then he saw that the gold detail on Dany's dress were dragons. "Your dress, is it new?"
That caused Dany to scowl and drink even more. "I enjoy the company of Lady Margaery, I really do, but she surprised me this morning while you were in the council with this gift and very unsubtly hinted I should wear it at your wedding."
"No." Luke said, too quickly. Dany looked at him in surprise, so he continued. "For one, you are betrothed, and flaunting yourself off in such a manner will likely cause a few too many stares for proud Martell's to ignore." He ignored Dany's smirk at the insinuation. "Secondly, we are going to face a lot of opposition to our rule. I would rather that we did not bring back memories of the Dance by dressing Targaryen's in green."
There was a moment of awkward silence before Dany simply shrugged. "It's not my colour anyway." She replied. "Though, you can tell the future Queen…"
Luke nodded at that. "The next few weeks will focus a lot on symbolism. The virtue of the new Queen after already being wed, the purity of the Stark prisoner that could have been raped half a hundred times between being held first by the Lannisters and now me. The strength of the alliance our weddings will bring… if all goes to plan we could have the strongest alliance House Targaryen have forged in marriage since Aegon the Unlikely's betrothals. If we are to rule without challenge then we need that, especially while our dragons are small."
Dany shifted so that she was lying down on the couch, her legs falling onto Luke's lap. "Tell me about our Mother." She whispered. Luke snapped his head to her, and he noticed that her eyes were pleading. "We've had a couple of moments alone to talk since I got here but not enough to drag you away from state business for too long. Every time I walk a corridor I think that Mother must have walked them too, every room I go in I wonder if she liked that room or hated it. I know only what I've been told by Viserys, and I don't trust his words anymore…"
"She was the kindest woman." Luke interrupted his sisters rambling, needing to pour himself some more wine to get through this. "She doted on Vis and I as children. Looking back I think she was scared something would happen and we would die like our siblings, but she always made sure we were kept away from Father and Rhaegar's games. I have memories of Father of course, but from the sound of it I was kept away from his worst because of Mother." He sighed sadly. "She died thinking I had too. As far as I know Rhaegar never told her the truth." He felt tears in his eyes and so he wiped them away, looking at an also tearful Daenerys. "She would have spoiled you rotten, her darling little Princess."
It was then he had an idea and pushed Dany's legs away gently, standing up and walking through to his bedchambers. Pulling out the keys that always remained on his person, he unlocked the three locks of his black oak chest, pushing the lid open and staring down at the relics inside. He picked up the smallest of his collection, the crown once worn by his Mother that had been taken by his wife's family on Lys and liberated by Luke years earlier. Standing up and wincing as he realised that the wine was going to his head, he turned to walk back to the living area when he saw Daenerys in the doorway.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
Luke sighed. "I was going to wait until your wedding day to give you this, but sometimes I forget that you never knew Mother and that of course you would want memories of her. This won't bring her back to life, but as Rhaella Targaryen's daughter, you should have this." He handed her the crown and watched as she gently fingered the three small rubies that decorated the black gold band.
"Thank you." Daenerys whispered, before flinging her arms around Luke's neck. "Thank you."
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, before then swapping to the other cheek almost immediately. Luke shrugged with her still in his arms. "It belongs to you…"
He was cut off, as suddenly he felt a pair of lips press against his own. Surprised he initially moved backwards, but at seeing the raw emotions on his sister's face and feeling her pressed against him breathing heavily, the wine in his system decided to act for him as he leant forwards and captured Daenerys' lips in his own.
Having Arya back at Riverrun was giving the entire castle of Riverrun a new lease of life, and the Stark girl wasn't shy about detailing exactly how she had been right underneath Tywin Lannister's nose without getting caught, a story that entertained everybody within the walls. Robb had even noticed that his Mother was pulling through her grief of losing Lord Hoster through the reunion with her youngest daughter, though as the days passed Robb was the one that would deal with his Mother's complaints at her relationship with the bastard blacksmith.
"She needs to remember her place." She was telling him atop a Riverrun battlement looking back down into the courtyard where Arya was showing off her skills with the sword to Gendry, a small crowd having gathered to see what she could do. "She is promised to a Frey… if they hear about this…"
"Then they will answer to me." Robb stated firmly. "They have the marriage they wanted, and I am not losing Arya to the South again."
Cat placed her hand on his shoulder, taking his attention away from the spar. "Robb, do not anger Walder Frey…"
"I'm not going to actively break the betrothal." Robb rolled his eyes, wishing that his mother would trust him. "But Arya is thirteen and has been lost to us for two years. I have already spoken to Roslin about this, and she has assured me that Lord Walder will wait until Arya is sixteen or after the next winter."
Cat frowned. "Winter could be years, we have just had the longest summer in memory…"
"And Autumn could be just as long, we do not know." Robb countered. "Mother, we have just got her back, do not try and give her away again."
Nodding, Cat backed off slightly and returned her gaze to the courtyard where Arya had disarmed the blacksmith. "What about him?"
"Gendry?" Robb asked. He had spoken with the boy a couple of times and found him to be good company. "He's coming to Winterfell with us."
"No." Cat insisted. "They're already too close. What if they…" She trailed off, not wanting to speak her fears into existence.
Robb simply scoffed. "He's five years her elder and sees her as a little sister." He argued. That had been a statement that initially made Robb angry too, but after cooling down he had simply been glad that Arya had someone to look after her. "And do you really think Arya even thinks that yet?" Cat was silent, but Robb could tell she was thinking of something that he likely wouldn't wish to know. "We need a new smith, and Gendry has trained under Tobho Mott. Someone with his skills will be needed when we get to Winterfell, who knows what state Greyjoy has left it in…" He trailed off as he noticed Riverrun's Maester, Vyman, walking up to meet them. "Maester." He greeted.
"Your Grace, My Lady." Vyman bowed his head at the pair of them. "I have a raven from White Harbour for you." He handed Robb the scroll, and the Stark broke the seal quickly and read its contents.
"The Dreadfort has fallen." Robb read aloud. "Stannis marches to Moat Cailin to rid the North of the Ironborn as we expected." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need to go."
"Robb…" Catelyn protested.
"No, Mother." Robb interrupted harshly. "I've been here for too long while the North remains occupied. I will no longer be the King who Lost the North, I must retake it with my army before Stannis has a chance to stake his grip on my people." He thought for a moment, looking over the railings as Arya won again. "You will stay here as the Lady of Riverrun." He told her.
Cat was surprised. "I should be with you…"
"No, Mother." Robb said again. "With Edmure at Harrenhal, Riverrun needs a Tully and until he weds and has a child you are his heir. You told me yourself you were brought up as an heir would be, so I need you to hold Riverrun for me. Arya and Roslin will stay here with you." He then turned to Vyman. "See to it that Harrenhal knows what is happening."
"As you say, Your Grace." Vyman bowed again, before departing.
"What will you do if Stannis beats you there?" Cat asked once the Maester was out of earshot.
That was a question that Robb had been thinking about recently. "My Kingship will soon be over. One way or another I will have to bend my knee to either Stannis Baratheon or Lucerys Targaryen. The question will be who is more likely to come out of this conflict on top."
"You know the answer to that." Cat told him worriedly.
Robb nodded. "I do." Was all he said in response, his mind wandering to his sister still stuck inside King's Landing.
The first thing that Luke noticed as he woke up was a deep throbbing ache in his head. It took a few minutes before he could even register that he was able to open his eyes, and slightly longer than that before he actually attempted to do so, although that was instantly filled with regret as the sunlight streamed through the curtains and into his eyes.
The next thing he noticed was the feeling of arousal from his midriff brushing against the bed covers. Groaning, he peeked his eyes open once more, noticing that he was completely naked. It was the sight of his nakedness that allowed memories to return to him of the night before, though they were hazy. He remembered drinking with Daenerys and feeling emotionally overwhelmed about his mother… and then nothing. Sighing, he tried to roll over onto his side and after a struggle, he managed it, staring at the other side of the empty bed. Or at least he thought it was empty.
Luke pushed himself upright, groaning once again at the throbbing inside his head protesting at the movement. He brushed his hand against the pillow and picked up a long strand of silver hair, longer than his own cut.
"Fuck…" He whispered, as he brought his free hand up to his lips, feeling them to be slightly more swollen than usual. "Fuck!"
"Your Grace?" A voice sounded from the doorway to his bedroom. It took a moment for Luke to register that it was Edric Dayne. "It is late morning, Your Grace. Would you like me to prepare your clothes?"
"Thank you, Edric." Luke called back, his voice raspy. "But I will dress myself. You go to the kitchens and bring me some food. I fear I overindulged on the wine last night."
The bedchamber doors opened and Ned Dayne stepped in with a pile of clothes and a grin on his face. "Ser Raymund was telling me that Princess Daenerys stayed until the early morning and you had drunk two whole decanters by yourselves!"
Luke groaned again. "It feels that way." He tried to keep his voice sounding composed. "What time did she leave?"
"After you passed out." Ned shrugged. "Ser Raymund said he came to check on you but you were snoring, so he didn't stay inside for long."
Luke sighed in relief. "Ser Raymund will never repeat that I snored or I shall have his tongue." He threatened in jest. "Thank you for the clothes, Ned. Go on, to the kitchens before I die of hunger."
"Your Grace." Luke's squire bowed and ran off, leaving the King to drop himself back into the comforts of the bed and groan even more audibly. He was thankful that the Dornish squire was so young, because now that his senses were coming back even Luke could smell the faint aroma of sex.
Getting out of bed the King scrubbed himself ferociously, all the time thinking of his conflicted feelings. Now that he had indulged, he was admitting to himself that he had been attracted to Daenerys almost ever since he had laid eyes on her but had managed to ignore that feeling having already been married and then focused on the conquest.
Then the guilt came. The guilt of Valarra not being the last woman he had slept with, the guilt of betraying his betrothed, whom he was actually starting to grow fond of and enjoy the Tyrell's company. And there was the guilt of deflowering Daenerys… In a panic, Luke ripped back the covers trying to see if there was any blood. He couldn't find any which made him sigh in relief again.
He got himself dressed before Ned returned with a plate of bread and baked fish with some watered-down wine, and then quickly excused his squire for the day, vowing to not see anybody until he could get his head straight…
Edmure isn't incompetent, it's just the show version of that conversation happened after Robb hadn't actually told him the plan. This time however there's no fighting and instead the pair of them are just looking to secure different parts of the Kingdom, so Robb is amenable to him. The main part of that scene however is obviously Arya being reunited with Robb and Cat. That then of course led me to having to include a scene where after the initial reunion, Cat is unhappy at Arya's newfound confidence with the sword and her relationship with Gendry. Don't worry, I'm not going the show route and having them end up together… Robb also has a decision to make. His gut tells him to bend to Luke, but with Stannis in the closer vicinity sooner he may decide to follow the Baratheon instead.
As for Stannis, burning Ramsay alive evidently worked with his swift capture of the Dreadfort. You can imagine Roose Bolton won't be happy at that, especially since he now has no heir. Melisandre's vision is also a prophecy, but Stannis may not be interpreting it quite rightly… kudos to you if you can interpret it!
And finally… King's Landing. Writing Ser Brynden Tully is always fun, and I feel like Luke would really respect the Blackfish and given how much the Targaryen cares about family, coming to an agreement to pause the talks whilst Hoster is mourned and Luke needs to focus on King's Landing seemed natural to me. The main part however here was the dalliance with Daenerys of course. There were a few comments slating me earlier in the story at not having a Dany/Luke romance and while earlier in the story (chapter 7) I stated I wasn't going to go there… I meant more as in a wedding sense. They won't be married at any point in the story, but at this point they're young horny Targaryen's bonding over their losses…
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!
Next Time: Luke continues to feel guilty but gets a distraction in the form of a Mockingbird, while the Lords of the Vale make a decision on the future of their Kingdom…
Reviews:
Guest (Awesome Work): Thank you!
Tony McNucklz: He's concerned because he's aware of the closeness Baelish has with Lysa Arryn, who is in control of the only region that's currently stayed clear of war and so is at full strength. He needs the Vale to bend the knee and he wouldn't be able to beat them in war unless the dragons were fully grown, which is around 3 years away as of right now. He shudders because to him now it isn't just a rug as he knows of Sansa's fondness for the creature and it's like having the head of Valaxes on Robert Baratheon's wall. He is only just starting peace talks with the North, nothing will be agreed before then but he's just sounding out a deal that won't lead to more war.
Annabeth: Thank you! Luke has grown up as a sellsword so his morals are certainly to a lesser standard than most Andals, and he is also a Targaryen as proven in this chapter so that could lead to further conflict down the line…
SashaAlexi: Thank you! The updates have certainly flowed more slowly than I would have liked but I really like the overall plot of this story and I'm excited to bring it to everyone.
Zhorvak: Jon doesn't even enter the story until Chapter 33 let alone know himself who he is.
SpartanWolfj6: Thank you. As of right now attacking the North is exactly what Luke wants to avoid. Like with the Vale, it's something he's probably only realistically consider when the dragons are fully grown because of how dangerous it is. Attacking from the East would only be possible by air because of the terrain.
Boba the Mando: Thank you? I have no idea what that means but google seems to think you're being kind about the story, so yeah, thanks!