I'm uploading this early because of yet another busy weekend, so enjoy!
Firstly, this week I want to say some things about House of the Dragon… we've had some really excellent articles from The Hollywood Reporter that go more into detail as to why this show is being made and to tease us with information as to what's going on, and then THAT trailer! I loved it; I really did. This week of increased promotion for the show has really given me a much-needed boost when it comes to this story and I really cannot wait until next month. Syrax and Caraxes look incredible as the main two dragons that I think were shown, though I believe that the one roasting the soldiers on the Stepstones is Seasmoke because that one looks more grey than red…
I'm sure I'll have more to say on the upcoming show next week too after Saturday's SDCC panel, but I'll leave it there for now and move back on to this story. I've put in another time jump of a month.
Some lines of dialogue are borrowed from Season 4 Episode 9.
I own nothing but the OC's. Everything and everyone else is the property of either George R R Martin or HBO.
Jon Connington had been a gift from the Gods for the first month after baby Aegon's birth, as Luke had taken some time away from the Small Council and ruling in order to be there for his wife and their new son. Luke had taken to eating his evening meal with the Hand of the King every day to get an update on the realm, but for the most part when he wasn't sat with Jon or training, he was with Margaery, Aegon and Visenya.
His daughter had taken a little while to get used to the new baby and the three-year-old was still uncomfortable when Aegon cried, but Luke was just grateful that he had an extended period of time to just be a father and a husband. In the back of his mind however he knew that he was clinging on to his children because he would soon be taken away to war. Most of the news coming from Jon was about the Wall, and how ranging parties had spotted Mance Rayder and his force moving towards the Wall in a slow but steady pace. Luke knew that the Stark force was on their way to the Wall after the victory on Pyke, but the Targaryen knew that this wasn't a fight that he could sit out.
His worry about leaving must have been obvious as he sat there with a sleepy Visenya in his lap, as his wife brought his attention back to their room by saying. "Your mind races, my love, I can almost hear it."
Luke looked over at her, noticing that she must have just put down Aegon in his cradle as she made her way to sit in the armchair next to him. "I'm just thinking about how perfect this is." He said softly so he didn't wake his daughter up. "I missed the first few months of Visenya's life whilst I was working on reuniting with Viserys and Dany, and then not too long after I got her back I sent her packing with Dany to Dorne and didn't see her for a year. I don't want to be absent for my children."
"You aren't, but you are also a King." Margaery told him. "Sometimes you will need to focus on the realm over your family. Though being a King, you can also delegate."
Luke chuckled. They had spoken a number of times since the birth about the Tyrell woman's unhappiness that he must travel to fight at the Wall. "Not this time." He simply said.
"Especially this time." Margaery countered. "You have a new son, the first male Targaryen born in twenty years. You have every right to stay…"
"My kingdom is so fresh, and still not yet complete." Luke argued in quiet tones to stop from waking the children. "The Iron Islands have submitted, sure, but the Vale is still fighting amongst themselves and the North will jump at any excuse to break free again whilst the Stormlands nor the Riverlands hold much love for me. I have spent my life fighting on the front lines, being visible to my men to inspire them in battle. If I cannot do the same when the Wildlings invade when Robb Stark will be there, then what is to stop the North from breaking free once more deciding that they do not need me?" He shook his head. "When the call comes, I will fight. We have the ships ready and waiting, all we need is the word from Castle Black."
Margaery frowned. "If the North are so foolish, we will defeat them. But I need you here, Luke, with me and Aegon."
Luke sighed. "The wounds that my father inflicted on the realm are still fresh in people's minds. I have a good reputation in Essos as a leader, but here? I am a conqueror, barely a ruler. A foreigner that came to uproot the old regime with fire and blood. I must go and defend my Kingdom personally, or how can I ask the North to fight with me when I need them?" He looked over at Aegon sleeping soundly. "I have enjoyed this past month with you and my children and I will have time again to be a father once I am back. But soon, I will need to be a King worthy of that title. To show the realm that I am willing to right the wrongs of the past by defending them from those that threaten them."
Margaery was still frowning. "Then I pray to the Warrior that you shall not be needed for a very long time."
Luke silently agreed with that as he shifted Visenya to a more comfortable sleeping position, but as he looked towards the balcony that overlooked his city, something in the air told him that time was not on their side.
Far to the North Robb Stark stepped off the small longboat into the shallow shores of the Bay of Ice. He could see the Northern Mountains in the near distance as he looked eastwards, whilst if he followed the shoreline even from where they had disembarked, he could see the Shadow Tower poking out from where the mountain range met the sea.
"There's a small pathway up." Dacey Mormont pointed as she joined him on the stony coastline. "We keep following the coast until we find it. Mother made us aware of it in case we ever needed to flee Bear Island to find our uncle."
Robb nodded, and looked around at the rest of his men that were disembarking their galleys. Around 4,000 Northmen had agreed to fight on instead of go home for the first time in almost 3 years, whilst Loras Tyrell had agreed to join him with around the same number of Reachmen. "We can't afford to wait." Robb explained. "We don't know if the Wildlings have attacked yet or not. Once everybody is off the ships, we march."
"Aye, Lord Stark." Dacey nodded formally, before leaving Robb alone as she barked those orders along the lines of men coming ashore.
Thankfully they were moving less than half an hour after Robb first touched the ground of Brandon's Gift, and by nightfall of the first day they had reached the mountain road that would take them up towards the Wall. After camping at ground level that night, Robb and Grey Wind were the first to begin the hard climb, but they were close enough to the Wall that it only took three hours to cut through towards Westwatch-by-the-Wall, an abandoned castle of the Night's Watch, where the 8,000 Westerosi rested for a while longer. Robb was digging into a rabbit's leg when he heard a horn blast in the distance, followed by a second blast.
"Wildlings!" He heard a Northerner cry. Finishing the meat, he threw the bone down on the floor and rushed up the abandoned castle to its highest point where Robb saw a bridge in the archers' range that traversed over the Milkwater river. From the mountainous range on the Northern side of the river, Robb spotted a small force charging towards the bridge.
"MOVE OUT!" Robb cried to his Northmen. "PROTECT THE WALL!" He also heard Loras scream at the archers to get to the high ground, a move that Robb agreed with.
He rushed out along with his men down a winding path towards the bridge where the former King in the North saw a group of Night's Watchmen preparing to rush the bridge. Knowing that fighting on such an unstable landmark would be stupid, Robb sprinted over towards the Black Brothers and gained their attention.
He could already hear the arrows flying through the air as he ducked behind a rock at the bridge's mouth, and looked over to see one of the Night's Watch running towards him, taking cover nearby. "Lord Stark! I am Bowen Marsh, Lord Steward!"
"Are you in command?" Robb asked, his sword ready in his hand. He recognised the surname as a Northern House, a bannerman of Lord Reed.
"I am." Bowen Marsh nodded. "We can hold the bridge if we take the fight to them!"
Robb shook his head. "It's too narrow, we'd lose too many men. Pull back to the Shadow Tower and cut them off on the path where you can set better defences." He looked around. "Dacey! Take half the Northern force and set up a bottleneck between here and the tower!" He ordered. The Mormont heir nodded and ran, encouraging the men that followed her to keep their shields ready as they passed the bridge's entrance.
"What will you do?" Marsh asked Robb.
Taking a moment to peek out over the bridge and seeing that the Wildlings were halfway over and being peppered with Reach arrows, Robb took a moment to think. "We'll keep them here for as long as we can to give you time." He called over. "If we can stop them from crossing at all, then we will!"
Bowen Marsh nodded and ran behind the Northmen following Dacey, leaving Robb to face Ser Loras Tyrell and the rest of his men from down the western mountain pass.
"Those that get past our archers, we cut down here!" Robb called out. "Northmen, cross over and take the eastern pass. Ser Loras, no Wildling can make it to Westwatch."
Ser Loras nodded, unsheathing his own sword. Robb took that time to take a deep breath before he rolled over to the other side of the bridge, barely missing an arrow shot at him from the North. He noticed more arrows were being fired from the bridge now, hitting some of his men. Thanking the fact that Grey Wind was back at Westwatch Robb took a deep breath, before rounding his cover and holding his shield out to block incoming fire, stopping to await the rush of Wildling's that had survived their archers.
The ravens had been sent and the men of the Night's Watch were more prepared than ever thanks to the addition of Ser Franklyn of the Kingsguard and the King's men drilling them all, and yet the sight of the fire spreading across the Haunted Forest for as far as Jon Snow could see was as frightening as anything Jon could remember.
"They've still got men to the South." Jon said aloud.
Jaime Lannister was the one beside him, a man that Jon never expected to tolerate, let alone even like. Being a part of the Night's Watch meant shedding all prior allegiances however, and ever since Craster's Keep, Jon knew that Jaime was a man that he could trust. "How do you know?" Jaime asked.
"Mance told me it was his signal for the attack on both sides." Jon explained. "Stay here, I'll find Ser Alliser."
Jaime nodded, and Jon took one more look at the flames before he turned back and walked down the ice trench towards the main platform where Ser Alliser was stood. Jon stopped a few paces back, steeling himself for the talk with the grumpy acting Lord Commander, before taking a deep breath and closing the distance.
"The ravens have been sent to King's Landing and everywhere in the North." Jon explained. "We just have to hold them off until reinforcements arrive."
"This fire, it means we'll be fighting on two fronts, doesn't it?" Ser Alliser asked. Jon just nodded. "Go down to the courtyard, instruct our guests that they are to hold Castle Black. Then come back up here and lead from the left flank."
"Aye, Ser Alliser." Jon nodded, surprised that he was being given a command. He went to turn away to see that the orders were fulfilled when Ser Alliser continued speaking.
"And Snow." The man said. "You sure there's a hundred thousand?"
"That's what I counted." Jon nodded.
Ser Alliser sighed. "You can say it if you like. We should have sealed the tunnel while we had the chance, like you suggested."
Jon was a bit taken aback by that comment. "It was a difficult decision either way, Ser."
"Do you know what leadership means, Lord Snow?" Ser Alliser asked, although he didn't wait for a response. "It means that the person in charge gets second-guessed by every clever little twat with a mouth. But if he starts second-guessing himself, that's the end. For him. For the clever little twats. For everyone. This is not the end. Not for us. Not if you lot do your duty for however long it takes to beat them back. And then you get to go on hating me and I get to go on wishing your Wildling whore had finished the job." He paused. "Go, see to it that our southern friends know their tasks, and see to it that you don't second-guess yourself while in command."
"As you say, Ser Alliser." Jon nodded, turning away to go to the lift as his thoughts pondered on what Ser Alliser had just said.
The raven arrived in King's Landing late at night, and an emergency Small Council meeting was arranged in the early hours of the morning. Luke didn't bother dressing, ordering for Edric Dayne to be roused to gather Luke's armour and Blackfyre before Luke headed off to the meeting, going in just his bed clothes and a fine silk robe to save time. That meant he and his ever-faithful shadow in Ser Barristan were the first to arrive along with Grand Maester Gormon, and the entire council that were currently in King's Landing soon trickled in.
"The Wall calls for aid." Luke stated, holding up the raven's message. "This is likely days old already, so we are running out of time."
Jon Connington cleared his throat. "I have already sent word to the barracks and the encampments outside of the city to begin boarding the ships of the Golden Company." There were around 25,000 men from the Reach, the Stormlands, Dorne and the Crownlands that had been gathering outside of the city walls over the last few months and the fields around the city had almost resembled a siege. "Balaq just awaits your arrival, Your Grace."
"Time is of the essence." The King admitted. "We must depart tonight, before dawn."
"Trystane is ready." Oberyn Martell explained. "He will meet you at the docks, along with 5,000 spears of Dorne."
Luke nodded. "You have all done excellently at ruling while I have been spending time with my son. I expect that to continue. I want the Wildfire moved with as much urgency as the volatile stuff allow, and I want the Vale brought into the fold." He then rose to his feet. "Jon, you have command." He stated.
"You do not need to go, Your Grace." Jon said quickly.
"Of course he does." Oberyn snorted. "A King must be seen to fight with his people."
"Oberyn is right." Luke nodded. He moved around the table and placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. "I have fought in more battles than I can count, Jon. What's one more?"
Jon frowned, but he stood up all the same. "This is different." Jon insisted. "You have a crown now, a family."
"That should the worst happen, you shall take care of and raise as you raised me." Luke smiled. "I name you Aegon's regent should the worst happen and I fall."
Jon blinked once, and then dropped down onto one knee. "I am honoured, Your Grace."
"Stand up, Jon." Luke laughed, and the Hand of the King did as he was asked. "It's no different to what my brother asked of you all those years ago, only you'll have the wealth and security of the Red Keep instead of a few tents." He pulled the Stormlander in for a hug. "There is nobody I trust more than you." He whispered, patting Jon on the back before pulling away and turning back round to the Small Council. "Ser Barristan, are the Kingsguard ready?"
"They are, Your Grace." The elderly knight stated. "Ser Caspor, Ser Taron and Ser Raymund will remain in the Capital to guard their charges and the Hand of the King. Ser Rolly and Ser Symon and I will be guarding you, along with Ser Franklyn already at the Wall."
"Very good." Luke nodded. "Then gentlemen, I must go and get ready to depart. I leave my city in your capable hands." He bowed his head at the table before departing the room, Ser Barristan following close behind.
His first stop was the chamber he shared with Margaery. She was sound asleep and so she simply kissed her cheek and moved to the desk to write a note. Secondly he pressed a kiss to Aegon's head in the cradle beside their bed before he got changed into the protection that went under the plate armour, finally pulling on a black leather jerkin that was suitable as both protection and for sea travel. Giving one last look to his family, he silently left the room, making one final stop nearby at Visenya's chambers to kiss his daughter before making his way out of the Red Keep.
Edric Dayne was there in the courtyard barking orders at servants to take a couple of chests down to the harbour, though at the sight of him everybody dropped to one knee. "Stop that, we haven't the time." Luke rolled his eyes. "Are we ready?" He asked his squire.
"We are, Your Grace." The 16-year-old stated, before going into more details about the supplies that he had been in charge of. Luke let him speak as he thought on the young boy that had first been given to him as a squire before he had stepped foot on Westerosi soil years before.
Realising that Ned had finished, Luke nodded. "Well done, Ned." He patted the boy on the shoulder. "You know, you're a man grown now and have performed more than well ever since you started serving me. Do the same again here, and I doubt you'll step foot in the Red Keep again a squire."
Ned blinked a few times in surprise. "I still have much to learn…" He trailed off.
"Those things grow fewer with each passing day." Luke admitted. "You will make a fine knight, but for now let us embark on one more campaign together."
Ned smiled. "As you say, Your Grace." He nodded, before the Dornish squire looked over at the horses being brought over. "Bring the King's mount here!" He barked.
Luke chuckled, but he waited as Ned attached Blackfyre to the horse's saddle and brought the destrier to him, where the King mounted up quickly and waited for Ned and the final stragglers to get themselves ready to depart. "To the Wall." Luke called out, kicking the horse into a quick trot with one final look back up at the Red Keep.
I'm sorry it's a shorter chapter this week, but with next chapter being a battle chapter and the week after having (as of writing this author's note) 7 different scenes I'm sure you'll all cope!
The Battle of the Bridge of Skulls is a book only thing, but as Robb was coming from that way anyway, I felt that I could stretch the chapter out a bit by adapting that given that this one is another shorter chapter, though next weeks will be longer as it's a battle chapter, and it will be a lot different to the show version of the battle too!
I gave you a long intro so I won't go into much more detail about what I've written in this chapter as I think it's all pretty self-explanatory. So I will leave you by hoping that you all enjoyed this chapter.
Next Time: Mance Rayder attacks…
Reviews:
Anaconda: Luke is still hoping that Visenya will bond to Rhaegal when she's old enough.
Guest (Great): Thank you!
Guest (Baby Targs): Even Aerys was a cute baby Targ at one point haha!
Gtopia: I'm vaguely hinting at the Dance, I'm not ripping it off! Robb is my favourite character too so I'm glad that you think he's well written here!
C.E.W: The benefit of having the Dance of the Dragons in the past is that the characters view that as learnable history. Luke has been adamant since taking the throne that Visenya cannot be his heir unless he dies without a son so nobody will be fighting for her rights to the Throne, especially now Aegon has been born half a Tyrell with the entire Reach behind him... Luke knows the threat is coming, the main issue will be to stop the fighting, and then move on to find a middle ground that won't annoy his bannermen, the Northern ones especially. I loved the trailer and the Dance of the Dragons is my favourite era of the lore, but I'm not sure I have any stories of my own to tell in that setting. I write OC's and other than maybe a Tyrell joining the war (which I'd do instead of my Leo Tyrell story set in S6-S8 of Game of Thrones) I can't think of a place that a new OC would change things.