Chapter 17

When Stag meets Dominants

Winterfell 312 AC/874

"Did you have to bury her here Ned? Surely, she would do better south in a field of roses under the sun," Robert frowned as he trudged forward deeper into the crypts of Winterfell, passing statues of former Wardens of the North until reaching the end of it all "Look at her…your stone masons did a fine job but even still, nothing will ever compare to her in life."

Ned for his part did not begrudge his old friend the time to mourn his sister, but things had been changing within his own head as of late. Jon…Clive, as he was now known, was the rightful King of Westeros and judging by how those friends of his treated him he was a well-liked man in his own regard. Honor demanded that he serve his king true to his word, but did he serve the king that had usurped a throne or the one born into it by his sister? "She is of the North Robert, this is where she belongs, with her family."

"We would have been family if it weren't for that damn Targaryen!" Robert snarls, gnashing his teeth as he thinks of Prince Rhaegar "Every night I go to sleep, I still see it you know. Our battle at the Trident, my Warhammer caving in his chest. Fat load of good all that pretty armor did him."

Ned fought back the desire to wince at that imagery…Clive would not react well to that detail of his father's demise. Not his father…Ned had to remind himself that while he had been raised for a few years as Jon Snow he was not the same little boy that had been taken by the Ironborn all those years ago. He was Clive Rosfield of Rosaria, while he was the rightful king by blood, he did not see Rhaegar as his father…nor was Ned his father either. That role belonged to Elwin Rosfield, the only man to see his worth and raise him properly as his own. Another regret Ned would have to live with.

"I need you by my side Ned, just like old times." Ned, so lost in his own thoughts, hadn't realized Robert was still speaking "Come south with me, be my Hand to the King. Jon always said we were great together, unstoppable even…help me set this realm right."

"Robert I…"

"I know what you'll say Ned, you have duties here to attend to, guests to entertain…seven hells Ned, your boy Robb is a man grown. Why not let him take over as Warden of the North? He won't even have to swear an oath to me, he's your boy!" Robert huffs, eyes straying to look Lyanna's statue in the eye, a sad smile formed on his face as he thought back to his youthful days with Ned "You remember what we were like back then? Ready to prove ourselves, eager to impress Jon and so full of life…You know I am no good at this, my place was on the battlefield…not seated on a throne so I could grow fat. But this life is better than what I had…now I can feast, drink and whore my way to an early grave."

"Is that all you see the crown as?" Ned couldn't help but frown as he folded his arms.

"If I can keep the Targaryen's from coming back, then I'll do as I bloody well please," he laughs "Speaking of which…we've learned that she is to be married off to a Dothraki horse lord or whatever it is they call themselves out there. Khal Drogo is his name. Varys can't pin down an exact number, but he says one-hundred thousand Dothraki serve him…I'll have no other man by my side when they try to cross the Narrow Sea than you Ned, you are the only other one who could provide the most tactical input."

Ned chuckles "When did you start speaking like a maester, Robert? Jon usually struggled to get you to even think for a few minutes when not in a battle."

Robert chuckles in kind, grief flashing across his face briefly "He went in the night. Pycelle claims it was a fever, just took him too quickly for him to be saved…says he didn't suffer but I…it doesn't sit well with me Ned."

"You suspect he was murdered?"

"Aye…now Lysa Arryn has fled with their son to the Vale, and I am down a Hand. So, will you take the position, or will I have to drag you back in a sack like when we were boys?"

"If I remember right, you only stuffed me in a sack and left me at the mercy of Ashara for an evening," Ned frowns, remembering how a boot had hit him in the back while he was still being stolen away for a secret meeting with his old love "I never did pay you back for that."

"Ha! Good luck finding a sack I could fit into!" Robert's booming laughter fills the crypt "So…you accept?"

"If it means I avoid the sack again, aye…aye I accept, your grace."

"Excellent! We can celebrate tonight, stay for a few weeks to resupply and rest…and you can tell me about these guests of yours, and why they are in Targaryen colors."

Ned sighs as Robert drags him off for the main hall. If he were lucky, then he would get to see his old friend pass out and get a night of peace. "They are foreigners Robert, from the kingdom of Rosaria, no relation to the Targaryen's."

"Better not be. Now…let's see if your cooks can still make a nice feast for a king."

Cid barked out laughter as he and the other knights enjoyed the feast, far down from the head table. Surrounded by men who had similar experiences in battle, or just enjoyed a good bit of drink with their meals was relaxing in a way. Sir Rex was giving a stunning retelling of the thrilling tale of Sir Clive and the Morbol, as told originally by Sir Wade of House Wedge. A story that he might just need the full details from its original teller later.

"There he is!" he cheers, mug of ale in hand as Clive enters the hall, no doubt doing his own rounds with Cody "Our Slayer of Giant Weeds! Come Clive, have a drink with us."

"Must you drink now Cid?" the younger man asks as he navigates around the welcoming arms of Ramuh's Dominant "And what's with the new title? Telling the story of the Ochu again?"

"On the contrary, Sir Rex has been regaling us with the tale of your youth slaying a…Morbol, was it?" A knight, a Lannister judging by the golden hair, spoke with a laugh.

Rex gave a nod, raising a juicy chicken's leg in the air "Aye! Our Lord Marquess here was quite the fighter in his youth, still is from what I've heard."

"I'm nothing special, just did my duty as a shield." Clive gives a chuckle, grabbing a mug of ale "Still…not every detail they share is accurate."

"Do any of them explain where you got that mark on your face there?"

Clive froze, carefully glancing at the smiling face of the speaker. He too was a Lannister, older than Clive…but younger than his uncle. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've been introduced. Sir…?"

"Jaime Lannister," the man, Jaime, seems to smile broader "There surely must be a story to that mark…or am I mistaken?"

The gathered knights watch with interest, some leaning in to hear the tale. There was even a hush over the hall as King Robert leans forward, the words reaching farther than Clive would have liked them to. "Very well…you all seem to be far too curious for my liking, but I shall endeavor to educate you to this…this Brand."

"A brand?" a large gruff man in armor asks, "Like a slave brand?"

"Aye," Clive takes a sip from his mug, managing to swallow the strong northern drink. "Thirteen years ago, my father, Archduke Elwin Rosfield, took a small force consisting of the Shields of Rosaria, my younger brother Joshua included to a castle called Phoenix Gate. Tradition dictated we would go there to 'hear the words of the ancestors' within the Apodytery there. While we rested for the night the castle came under siege, a group of traitors arrived, killed the guards outside and allowed knights and dragoons from the Holy Empire of Sanbreque inside. They slaughtered our men, most did not survive the night, those that did fled to Rosaria to warn and prepare the kingdom for the war that would follow."

Clive glanced up through the crowd of onlookers, seeing Jill give him a reassuring smile as he had more of his drink. His throat felt dry, the flames within that once burned hot at the thought of what happened that night now simmered and kept that familiar warmth just alive in his chest. "I and an older Shield, Sir Gregor…we fought off an Imperial Dragoon, one of their best kind of knights…he died in the fighting. As for myself, I was knocked out by falling rubble. The Imperials set fire to the castle, killed off any survivors they found the next morning and took me prisoner. I was left in their custody, forced to serve in their army, and when I saved a man from a death that he did not deserve…they branded me and killed him out of spite."

"All of that over just doing your duty as a knight?" Jaime Lannister seemed sympathetic "They branded you a criminal, a slave even…just because you saved one life?"

"I never claimed to think the Imperials to be good people." Clive says with a shrug "I must apologize that my story for this is not as heroic as many of you were surely hoping it to be. Reality is often quite disappointing."

Chatter in the hall resumed as Clive gave the rest of his watchers a sharp look. Jaime Lannister wasn't the only one to be curious. Clive had hardly paid any mind to the short form of Tyrion Lannister as he grabbed a goblet of wine and sat beside his brother. The Lannister men were…curious. Jaime seemed to sympathize with Clive, and yet he looked almost hungry as he looked at him too. Tyrion was the opposite; he was far too curious and inquisitive with his eyes but far less willing to broach a subject that might anger the pair of knights flanking Clive closely.

"Well," says as he sets his goblet down "I don't suppose you could confirm for us all whether those tales your man Sir Rex here was spouting are true? I myself am quite fascinated with the idea of these Morbols…giant plants that could swallow a man whole? Almost as incredible as Dragons, almost."

The men laughed. Colt and Rex shared a look as Cid sputters with his ale, coughing up a storm. "They are true my lord," Clive says, "While true that a Morbol is smaller than the largest dragon alive, it is still a formidable beast of burden, wherein the only burden for you is that it still lives."

"But a Dragon they are not," Cid adds "Doubt it would be much better if the Empire used them instead. Lucky for us, the smaller aevis is easier to control than a full-grown dragon." There was a collective coughing amongst the men at that comment. Cid for once in the time Clive knew him looked genuinely confused "What? Was it something I said?"

"Dragons?" Tyrion gets through his coughing fit first "You…you must be joking. Dragons have been dead for…nearly two centuries now. The last of which was no bigger than a kitten from what the tomes say."

"No…pretty sure there are still dragons in Valisthea. Course, smaller variants are common, and used by the Imperial Legion quite often too." Cid chuckles "Still remember the time I fought Bahamut…now there was a dragon with a temper."

"Dragons…real, breathing dragons." Tyrion seemed to be in a stupor as he stared into his goblet. The knights around them muttered amongst themselves, many fearful of what living dragons might mean for them should the Empire invade.

Clive did his best to tune out the conversations. The sooner the fat king stag left Winterfell the better. He just hoped he would not have to ask for Robert Baratheon's aid against the Great Other, against the Night King.

Up at the head table things were a bit different after Clive's story was shared. Ned had to fight his instinctual reaction, just barely managing to not dent his goblet as he clenched it in anger. They did this. They would dare to brand Lya's son as a slave just for the simple act of saving someone else? He could not allow it to continue. But what could he do? He was a Lord of Winterfell, not king of all Valisthea. Just as Ned struggled to keep his rage in check, so too did his son and heir Robb. The man, much like his father, couldn't comprehend why anyone would brand a knight as a criminal or a slave for saving someone else…it was a knight's duty to protect. He and his father shared a look, it seemed they were together in this, united against an empire.

"Ned, what's all this I hear about dragons?" Robert's voice was low, dangerously so like they were back in the rebellion "You mean to tell me that dragons still yet live in this world?"

"They haven't mentioned them to me your grace, though the tales of Morbol's and great big cats called Coeurl's I have had enough times to recount them," Ned frowns, thinking his next words over carefully "From what I understand, the Empire of Sanbreque is…hostile to foreign powers. They would not work with the Targaryen's, not for all the gold in the world."

"Do you swear it?"

Ned felt his mouth go dry. He couldn't really swear that an unknown power in their part of the world wouldn't follow the Targaryen's but from what Clive and Elwin before him had said the Empire was not friendly with anyone. "I swear it, Robert."

"Good," the stag king went back to his drink "What do you think it would take to get them to come south with us?"

"What brought this on?"

"Those knights…the young royal…I see some of myself in them, from the glory days." Robert chuckles "Those knights are fierce from what their stories tell, and that Cid certainly makes for interesting company. Clive too…shame about that brand, lad could no doubt have every maiden from here to Sunspear willing to get into bed with him and have his bastards."

Ned did his best to ignore the uproarious laughter Robert gave at his own joke. Clive would never go for it, that lad was far too noble and even were he not he was far too loyal to one lady in his life. One that Ned had been observant enough of when they were younger. "I don't know what they will take to get them there, but if King's Landing is where they desire to go then I highly doubt any of us could stop them from going."

"Ha!" Robert slams his hand down on the table, startling the Queen sat beside him "You convince them to come with us, and we'll throw the best tournament the kingdom shave ever seen!"

"Surely a tournament for the Hand of the King isn't necessary Robert?"

"Lord Stark is right my love," Ned found himself feeling on edge as the Queen spoke her agreement "A tournament just for an appointment to a post such as Hand is excessive, trivial even, and to do so just for foreigners…what would the nobles think?"

"Bah! Who cares what they think? I am King of the Seven Kingdoms! Let them protest all they like; my word is law here and that is final."

"If that is what the king wishes," Ned says with a slight bow of his head.

"Enough of that Ned," Robert grumbles "I may be king, but you do not bow to me, not after all we've been through. Now…let's stop all this talk of travel and tourney's…we have a feast to enjoy!"

In the days following the royal party's arrival Clive spent his time training with Rex and Cody. The two veteran knights certainly gave him a run for his money as he took both on at once. To the westerosi knights it looked like Clive had a death wish, to those from Valisthea it looked like he was only interested in a warmup.

"Too slow!" Clive shouts as he avoids a swing from Cody's broadsword "Come now, I thought you moved better than this Cody?"

"Speak for yourself my lord," the knight grunts, his boots sinking into the soil "The ground here is cold and damp, I'm sinking into it like a rock."

Clive ducks under a swing from one of Rex's axes "Almost had me that time Rex," he brings Invictus up, blocking both weapons "But that is not good enough to best me now."

"I liked it better when you were a lad and not a grown man!" Rex growls as he puts more force into his assault, pushing Invictus back towards Clive's chest "Tell me…how is it that you've improved this much?"

"Years of practice and dangerous missions."

"Alright, alright, enough of that now," Cid claps his hands together, thunder booming in the distance "Come along lads, we wouldn't want to show up every knight in this castle now, would we?"

"I wouldn't say every knight is intimidated Ser Cid."

Cid sighs, shaking his head "And here we go again…Ser Meryn…to what do we owe this honor?"

Meryn Trant smirks as he joins the Rosarian knights. Dressed in his gleaming golden plate armor, red beard the only color off balancing his ensemble as he dons his helmet "How about a spar then?"

"Alright, which of the lads do you wish to fight?" Cid smirks as he looks at the men, none of them were willing to back down to the man pretending to be a knight "Careful though, they might just send you back a few dozen pounds lighter."

"I'll fight the boy," Meryn points to Clive "He seems to need a real challenge from a proper knight."

Rex and Clive shared a look before the former took his leave. As Meryn passed Cid the Dominant of Ramuh couldn't help but chuckle, a smirk tugging at his lips as he mutters "Your funeral."

Clive takes up his position, Invictus ready, as Meryn takes position opposite of him. His eyes narrow as his face sets into a stony expression. Clive would make sure Sir Meryn Trant knew just who it was he was dealing with. "When you are ready, sir."

Sir Meryn didn't wait for Cid to give the order to begin, nor did he wait for the rules of engagement to be shared. He charged forward, swinging with a speed that Clive hoped would be considered slower than were he out of his armor. But alas it was not as fast as the likes of Rex and Cody, nor could it ever hope to be on the level of Cid and Benedikta. Clive steps to the side, blade narrowly missing his right cheek and ear as it cuts clean through his previous position. The First Shield of Rosaria brought his blade up, stopping short of Sir Meryn's stomach, and smirks right back at the smug knight. "Dead."

"I was just testing you, that's all," Meryn Trant retakes his starting position "This time, we will fight for certain."

"If you say so," Clive gives Cid a bored look. The older man just chuckles and nods his head "Unfortunately for you, this won't even be close to a proper fight for me."

"That so?"

Cid shook his head as he watched Meryn Trant rush in again. The Stormlander was nothing more than a brute. No finesse, no real swordsmanship, no style or flair to him. Just shiny armor, a shiny sword, and a sense of entitlement. "More's the pity for the Crown, man fights like a sellsword out of Dhalmekia."

"Many of those in Valisthea?" The speaker, an older man with long hair and beard in white matching his armor and cloak though it was his eyes that unnerved Cid with how full of sorrow they were, was none other than Barristan Selmy.

"Barristan the Bold…can't say we have many men with titles like yours back home, no…as for sellswords well…we have quite a few of those." Cid chuckles "Though I doubt we have nearly as many pretender knights running about."

"Yes…one of my many complaints that has fallen upon deaf ears." Sir Barristan shakes his head. Pushing into ages fit for retirement, and yet the old man still was alive and kicking. Truly the boldest of all knights in Westeros. His old eyes, however, watched how the eldest Rosfield toyed with Sir Meryn. Spinning around his swings, knocking him around with just his hands. The lad had already proven that he could trounce him with ease, now he was just showing off. Though…to Sir Barristan…there was something there as well. Something he hadn't seen in many years. Twenty-eight years to be precise. "Tell me, Sir Cid, how long have you known the Rosfields?"

"Can't say I have had the luxury to know Clive for as long as I have known Joshua. The young Archduke has been my protégé for thirteen years, his brother sadly has only been a recent addition so to speak." Cid chuckles "Give him no endless number of headaches with all the missions we run."

"Missions?"

"I'm something of an outlaw back home," Cid confesses "Didn't like how some kingdoms treated the smallfolk, so I began making a hideaway for them. Clive and I…we went out to some villages and towns, saved the people from corrupt lords and knights. We even fought to rescue his brother if you can believe it. That lad has some serious talent, skilled with a blade too."

"Interesting…" Barristan strokes his beard, keeping a keen eye on Clive.

On the other side of the yard, also watching Meryn being made into a fool was Jaime Lannister, his brother Tyrion right beside him as they watched the sly conniving knight curse as his every swing missed their mark "Well, Sir Meryn seems like he is enjoying himself," Tyrion observes with a smile "Tell me, does he always get like this when he fails to hit you just once?"

Jaime's chest puffs up in pride of his title amongst the men as being untouchable. Much better than his other moniker of Kingslayer. "If it helps, brother, he is much worse here than in Kings Landing. I can't say I have ever seen Trant act this way before though…like a man possessed I would think."

"At this rate, Robert might just demand that this Clive Rosfield become a new member of the guard and send Ser Meryn home like a defeated dog." No sooner had the words left Tyrion's mouth did Robert's booming laughter fill the air as he watched Clive humiliate Ser Meryn. "You see there? Our good brother agrees with me."

"He might enjoy the show, but Lord Rosfield is not going to stick around and be a knight for him." Jaime studies the pair fighting in the yard "That is no green boy, that is a knight who has seen real warfare. He'll never be content with guarding a king that he didn't choose. He chose to guard his brother over being a ruler, he'll stick with him till the death."

"Speaking from experience dear brother?"

Jaime's smirk softens just a fraction "Don't let it go to your head. And especially don't let Cersei hear that."

There was a cheer in the crowd filled with laughter as Meryn Trant hit the dirt, armor and cloak stained with mud. Clive hardly paid him any mind as the older man cursed him as he stood up. Invictus hadn't needed to be drawn for this round, the man before him could hardly be called a knight. He had about as much training as a newly minted shield. Or rather, a newly minted novice shield. "It's over Sir Meryn, like I said, hardly a proper challenge."

"No…this is over when I say it is, boy!"

"Clive!"

Eyes widened as Clive whirls around, blocking the swing aimed at his back. There was silence in the yard. Every onlooker was stunned to see a knight swing at an opponent's back, but they were all more stunned by the fact Clive reacted with speed they themselves could hardly follow. Ser Meryn Trant, however, was shaking in his armor, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of his sword, arms trembling as he applied all the pressure that he could. And yet there was nothing to show for it.

Clive grit his teeth, all but snarling at the cowardly man before him. His right arm raised, blocking the sword as he felt the heat within roaring to life. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the man, a fire blazing behind them, his teeth barred and sharp as he flexed his own fingers. With a single push of his arm Meryn Trant was sent back into the mud. "Pathetic," he spits out as he turns away from the disgrace to the white cloak.

Rex and Cody shared a look, Cid motioning for them to follow Clive as he stalked off back into Winterfell. "Well…that was certainly something," he says, turning to Sir Barristan "I don't suppose you'll be telling your man there to learn to pick his battles more wisely, eh?"

"Indeed…is Lord Rosfield alright?"

"Clive? Heh, lad will be just fine, he's suffered worse injuries, believe me."

"What was all that in the yard?" Clive winces as he hears that build up in Jill's tone of voice, slowly building up to the inevitable tongue lashing he and Joshua had grown to expect as boys "You just had to accept that man's challenge, didn't you? Couldn't have just ignored it and kept yourself out of trouble, could you?"

Clive made to speak, silenced by a stern look as Rex and Cody chuckle and smirk as they watch the young Lord be reprimanded so thoroughly. For them, this was entertaining. For Clive, this was punishment.

"But that last attempt…You could have dodged, Clive…so why didn't you?" Jill frowns as she looks at him, his head down, eyes on his arm "Clive?"

"I don't know." He says, still looking his arm over "I have no injury…my armor is untouched there…and yet…I just knew that I could survive it."

"Could it have been R'hllor?"

"I'm not sure," he chuckles "What a God demands is one thing…what he does is another. But it shouldn't be possible. I'm not Dominant."

"Sir…he did call you his Champion," Cody reminds him "And you yourself told us that he said the great flaming beast that destroyed Phoenix Gate was, well, a copy of you…shouldn't you also be a Dominant for that Eikon?"

"Ifrit…as we all know, there can only be one Dominant per Eikon." Clive frowns, clenching his fist "But if what R'hllor said is true then he made Ifrit, which means that my copy is out there with that Eikon in his arsenal, and I am left without one."

"How can we even know that it still lives? We've never heard of any sightings of it, or of you, my lord."

"Rex is right," Jill adds in "No sightings, no rumors…the copy could be dead and gone…right?"

"No…R'hllor said that I wasn't ready yet but that soon I would be…the copy has a purpose, so it surely must still be alive somewhere right now. I won't find it…find him, until R'hllor wills it."

"I'm just going to say what we are all thinking here," Rex says with a sigh "I fucking hate Gods."

Clive laughs "I hate them too Rex, I hate them too."

"How much longer are we to be in Winterfell?" Clive's gaze moves to Jill "King Robert has made his intentions clear; Lord Stark is to be his Hand and he wants all of us to travel south along with him to the capital. Clive…this goes against what we were setting out to do."

"It's a detour…no more and no less." Clive chuckles, that smirk Jill found so comforting back in place "Rex…you said on the voyage that you had been wanting to look into something…do you suppose the capital would be a good place to start?"

The smile Rex bore was almost predatory in nature as he began to chuckle darkly "My lord…it might just be the perfect place."

"May I ask what it is you both discussed so secretively?" Jill's tone had that cold edge to it, Shiva's doing no doubt, but Clive dare not mention that now as her eyes focused on him.

"Cody…the door," Clive watches the older knight exit the room, shutting the door behind him "Rex…check the walls, I remember there are a few crawl spaces in some of the rooms big enough for a child."

"Clive?"

Clive waits until Rex gives a curt nod of his head before he leans over to Jill and whispers in her ear "My father discovered who hired the bandits that used you for a hostage. We're not sure who exactly or what…but Littlefinger was mentioned. Until we know exactly who or what we are up against there, we cannot give away too much."

"A trap…for you that's clever."

Clive looked offended "I can be clever."

Rex coughs, fighting back a chuckle as Clive's head swivels around to him "S-sorry my lord…must be…the dust."

"So…what will we do?"

Clive squeezes her hand gently "The royals will be here for a few more weeks, if I'm right they should be ready to return somewhere around the twentieth of the fifth month...even then that leaves us with too little time to do much of anything."

"We could always do what we want," Rex shrugs.

"And offend a king that would sooner declare us enemies than call us friends?" Clive shakes his head "I think I shall pass on that Rex."

"What if we didn't do either?" The knights turned sharply to the lady in the room "We could still travel south with the king, but not all of us must go south with him. We could divide our attention between several places and gather what we need all at once."

"She has a point…"

"A dangerous point," Clive argues "Jill…we cannot recruit any allies to our cause if we are divided. Never mind the fact that splitting up in these lands leaves us with few good prospects with the story we are using."

"Goetz is our trader and thus will be accompanying us wherever we go, Joshua and I are royals from Valisthea travelling just for the sake of adventure before he is crowned, and our great and powerful knights and Jote are our bodyguards and attendant." Jill gives him an even look "What is so hard to understand Clive?"

"She does have a point," Rex says with a chuckle "Though…what if we focused on one detail instead of all of the details?"

"Well, I would say that now I do not understand what the plan is." Clive throws up his arms "Very well, Sir Rex the All Knowing, enlighten us…what are you thinking?"

"There's one member of our little troupe that doesn't have any obligation, we could send him to the Citadel to gather the information you need…then we regroup outside of the capital…"

"And we have all we need to…" Jill's eyes light up "Rex, that's brilliant!"

The knight shrugs his shoulders "I try to be, my lady."

"You can't possibly be suggesting we send him of all people, can you?

"If it works, you won't be complaining."

Clive rolls his eyes. "If this works, and it really is him that goes for this…I'll never hear the end of it."

AN: Another one for the books. I wasn't sure at first how I wanted to do Robert Baratheon, but now I have a better idea of where I want to take him in terms of character and personality. On top of that, a few cameo's…I'm calling them cameo's because while they all will be part of the 'cast' for this story they aren't yet players so to speak. So, we have Robert Baratheon of course, introduced for the first-time in the last chapter at the end, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister and the Hound...and a few other knights. All in all, I would say that is not bad. Next chapter will be a bit different I think; it will cover the entirety of the important parts of the Kingsroad before we reach the Landing as well as establish something that will be playing a part in what I believe will be the favorite parts of this story thus far. Depending on how long this thing ends up being when finished, you could say is the fan favorite for Act 1. (Update August 28th, 2023: So chapter 18 is taking longer than I would like, it's mostly done, and chapter 28 is actually complete with a bit of 29 also done...if anything, I'm probably going to get through 19 and then finish 29 before laying the foundation for 30...carry on)

Now…what did you all think of that demonstration of the average knight vs our main cast of fighters? We all know Dragoons blow any knights of Westeros out of the water. I mean…that first boss fight alone from Phoenix Gate would prove that well enough. What Clive here has done is admittedly showing off…but it's also a very nicely veiled warning. How is it not an obvious threat/warning? Simple. No one is expecting it. Because no one suspects it. Anyone who is playing the game or going to play it will at some point look at other players with suspicion and distrust. None of them would ever think to look at foreigners as being threats because they will 1) have no actual claim to the throne and 2) not stick around for long enough to even be capable of usurping the throne during the war. It's a win for the westerosi but since we all know just who exactly Clive Rosfield is in this story…this first round of the Game of Thrones goes to Clive.

And so…to the reviews we go!

furvustocs: Firstly…do not get that excited yet that we hit 100k on this site, AO3 I don't think includes authors notes in the word count and is only at 90k so give it two more chapters or so and it should be enough for the 100k then. As for your comments…I am confident in my abilities, but me personally I see everything I write as absolute garbage…least the official stuff I have yet to publish, so that when I finish the draft and go back to edit it, I am seeing flaws that may or may not be there and improve it to a higher standard. Even now what's finished for publication I don't think is a best seller in the making but those who have read it thus far have said they believe it could be. As always, glad you enjoy it furv.

Hakuryukou79: Yup. We back in Westeros for quite a long while…not sure yet just how long as the chapters get added to the guideline and events play out, we are looking at a long stay here. With Benedikta and Hugo being added into the mix, we now have two more players added to the proverbial board. Still a lot to meet and see, and as for Eikon battles and or appearances…it'll be very shocking to say the least.

Jebest4781: You're not wrong there with any of it. Things are going to be interesting. As for Essos…yeah there's going to be some interesting things going on with that. We'll see how it turns out, as of writing these review responses I skipped to chapter 28, 29, and 30 because I am impatient to get to THAT storyline hehe…it's going to be fun.

RedAlpha22: First rule of dealing with me and my AU ideas…anything goes. Ned's alive…whose to say that someone else hasn't died or will die? Or is alive? You don't know…and seeing as I have 18 plotted out and mostly finished as of this response…I have yet to name anyone who isn't present here that has died…well…besides Jon Arryn. So, we'll see who is still alive to meddle and who isn't very soon.

Hewhohasreturned: I can safely say after the week of throwing myself at that chapter...I'm not looking forward to the finish, only looking forward to getting to chapter 19.

spartanonxy: ...while I'm glad you are enjoying it, do you have any idea just how close your timing was to this review being in chapter 18? Good thing I checked before publishing.