Chapter 51: Wildfire

300 AC

Jon

It was a cold, but clear day. A breeze flew in his face, as seagulls could be heard overhead. He leaned forward on top of the battlements, as he looked upon the Red Keep. They were standing atop of the Gate of the Gods. It was the elevated point the furthest from the citadel. The pyromancers had ensured they would be safe here. The whole city had been evacuated for the spectacle, but the walls around them were lined full of people wanting to watch. Only in this corner though, as Robb had forbidden it everywhere else within the walls.

They had triple searched the areas around here and below the gate to make sure everyone would be safe. Although they thought they had found all of the wildfire in the city, they couldn't be entirely sure. Better to be safe than sorry was his brother's philosophy and most agreed.

Most of the wildfire stashes they had found had been stacked deep inside the fortress or the hill below. They were put in the dungeons, the secret tunnels and cellars. Other smaller quantities were strategically placed by the pyromancers so as to make sure the fire would reach there.

The Pyromancers had drenched parts of the entryway to the castle in wildfire. These parts would be set alight by fire arrows from afar. Then the archers and pyromancers would have just enough time to get on their horses and speed away, before the wildfire reached the first of the barrels. When it did, all would go up in the air in seconds the Alchemist Guild had told them.

With them stood most of the high nobility, although a few had been left in command of the camp. In between their closest group of friends stood Cersei Lannister. She was both bound and gagged, a thing which made her presence a little more bearable. It had been Robb's decree that she would witness the end of her powerbase. She would be forced to watch it all go up in flames, before her head would be taken off. Tommen, as he was still a child, would be spared the visions of the burning keep. His sentence would also be postponed, as Robb was still unsure on what to do with him.

He looked over his brother, as he frantically looked towards Aegon's Hill. He worried for him. The strain on him had been huge, with the addition of the Storm- and Vale lords. At seventeen years old, he kept together a coalition that spanned half of Westeros. Grey Wind noticed it too it seemed, as he saw how the direwolf was even more protective over Robb than normal.

He wanted to walk over to him to subtly comfort him, but he was interrupted when the agreed signal was given. Everyone turned towards the hill. Moments later, they saw three fire arrows arc in the sky towards the stairs in front of the Red Keep. Immediately after they landed, green flames could be seen climbing up towards the Targaryen stronghold. As he looked at the pace it was going, he thanked his brother for the foresight he had shown in protecting the city. He had ordered everything around the Red Keep to be demolished, limiting the chances that fires would spread.

The green fires licked at the castle until suddenly a small explosion could be heard and seen. Before anyone could say anything about it, it was followed up by a much bigger explosion. The whole hill roared as a blinding flash of green light erupted in front of them. He had to avert his eyes, due to the flash's intensity. When he looked, again he saw how parts of both the castle and the hill were up in the air. Debris fell all over a great area, even outside the hill, as both stone and dirt were thrown in the air. A few seconds later a thrust of wind hit them all square in the chest, knocking over one of the squires present.

Smaller eruptions were heard and seen along the hill and they were all in a trance, mesmerized by the beauty and destruction enfolding in front of them. That suddenly changed, when another explosion was heard much closer to them. He looked to the right and saw how the Great Sept of Baelor was quickly going up in flames. Immediately all nobles started panicking. Not only was the greatest place of worship of the Seven rapidly catching fire, it was also a lot closer to them than they ever thought the fire would get.

After a while, it became clear it had to be an isolated incident, but still the nobles were restless. The fires at the Sept, apart from their green color, just seemed to be spreading faster than usual. This was in big contrast against the great green fire in front of them on Aegon's Hill. It was something both majestic and horrible. He looked into the flames at the ruins of the Targaryen legacy, his father's legacy … and felt strangely drawn towards it.

Of course, he knew that not everything was gone. No, almost everything that had been left in the Red Keep from the Targaryen era had been saved by Robb. Last night, his brother had ordered him to accompany him towards the docks. He had told him he had managed to salvage a lot of correspondence of his ancestors, together with heirlooms, prophecies, hundreds of personal books and much more. All of it was secretly transported to the North by a Manderly ship that had left on the morrow. All of it would be kept in Winterfell until his keep was build. His brother had promised him every last heirloom and correspondence. Some of its library would be incorporated in the Winterfell library because its knowledge was too valuable to isolate, but most of it would also accompany him to his new home.

He had been completely shocked when he was told this, especially after seeing the hull of the large trade cog and how many items were actually in there. He had even taken a few of them out for him to enjoy on campaign. To read, he had taken a tome full of correspondence between Aegon the Unlikely and his siblings and children. Next he had taken out a set of armor. It had apparently belonged to his kinsmen Baelor Breakspear. Although over a century old, it was seemingly repaired and restored. Some other letters made it clear that it had been repaired for Rhaegar, when was around his age. To his surprise, it was still in very good condition. Robb had let him take it but had ordered him to keep it all a secret.

It was the first thing he ever owned of his father except for the folded flag and dragon ring that Lord Howland had brought him, back when he had told him of his parentage. When he had strapped it on, the armor fitted almost perfectly. He knew by now that his build resembled that of Rhaegar greatly, although noticing it in that manner had been something else.

His thoughts went to the kin he had never known before. From Daenys the Dreamer to himself. A whole lineage of people, people who had once controlled dragons to do their bidding. He had sworn himself he would find out as much as possible about them. He would keep his parentage secret, until one day his sons were old enough to know. He would raise them as Northmen, loyal to House Stark. He would make sure none of them had any weird notions of ever sitting a throne, but still he would tell them if only for the mother he had never known.

The dragons were where he came from, if he wanted to or not. However, he would decide were the lineage went to next. It would go North and live a quiet and well-of live. He would raise a family and build his own house on the fertile ashes that were House Targaryen. They would neither forget, nor honor them, but their wicked ways would end.

What to do with his supposed brother though? He had thought about it for hours on end and had spoken casually about the identity of Aegon with many more people. People who had arrived with his uncle just after the sack and even some Westerlander prisoners that had been in the city with Tywin's army. They all told the same story. This pretender couldn't be his long dead brother, but who was he really?

He looked upon the green flames, towering high above Aegon's Hill for who knows how long. He stayed up there long after most nobles had gone back to camp. At one point, only he and Ghost remained, as both sat silently on the walls looking how the red stone remnants slowly blackened or even melted. When he finally left, he felt as if a part of him had died. Would his ancestors curse him from the afterlife? He thought, as he made his way back to camp. The darkness gave him no answer, as the only sign of life was Ghost nudging him forward from time to time.

"You can be whoever you want to be. You can be a dragon or a wolf, a king or a noble. Whatever you decide, know that I will be proud of you. To me, you will always be special my son." Had been the last words his mother had written to him. He had chosen. He would never be a dragon, nor a king. He knew that, somewhere, she at least would be proud of him. The thought strengthened his resolve, as he knew what he would do now with his future.

(The next day)

The next morning, he stood in the square in the middle of his camp, together with everyone of importance in the armies and many more. Stands had hastily been built to give as many people as possible a chance to see what would unfold today. He stood next to a small wooden throne that had been brought out for his brother. In front of them sat Cersei Lannister. Her gag and bounds had been removed, but there was no way for her to go. She would not get away with the things she had done, not this time.

"Cersei Baratheon, formerly of House Lannister, you are brought here to be held accountable for your crimes. You are accused of plotting against your husband and king, committing adultery and incest against him with your brother the Kingslayer, scheming to illegally obtain the throne for your children, unjustly obtaining and exercising their regency, unlawfully murdering and executing many nobles among them the Lord Paramount of the North Eddard of House Stark, inciting civil war in Westeros, crimes against the city of King's Landing and its people and many more. How do you plead?" The herald next to them demanded in a loud voice.

The former queen just looked at him and spat at his direction. "A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinions of sheep." She retorted. Although she still tried to play the strong ruler in command, everybody could see she was not. Her hair had darkened and had been tangled because of her stay in the Black Cells and the camp prison. Her face was gaunt, and she had clearly lost too much weight in too short a time. She may think of herself as a lioness, she didn't look like it any longer.

Robb stood up. "That may be so, but I am no sheep." He simply responded. His point was strengthened by both Grey Wind and Ghost, who stepped forward to stalk alongside him. "We Starks are direwolves and we have shown much and more on how no lion can withstand us. Your brother and lover couldn't do it at the Whispering Wood, your uncle and cousin couldn't do it at Oxcross, your father and other uncle could neither do it at Atranta nor the God's Eye. Now your brothers and uncles are dead, as are many of your cousins. Your eldest bastard has died, your youngest is in my captivity and the other is somewhere off in Dorne, for all we know she may be dead as well." His brother spoke, as he slowly walked over to her.

He could see the anger and rage in her emerald green eyes, but it was soon replaced by fear as Grey Wind stalked over so closely that she could feel him breathing down her neck. "The once mighty pride of lions is reduced to you, your father, who can't even control the Westerlands anymore, and some cousins stuck in Riverrun or Casterly Rock. Your reign is over, your seat is destroyed." He continued, as he and the direwolves walked around her sitting on her knees in the dirt.

"Your life story will be a lesson to all." Robb raised his voice as he looked over the crowd. "A cautionary tale of what happens when you attack a member of our pack. Even if, like the woman in front of you, you manage to bring down the leader of the pack through lies, treachery and deceit, his pups will come to haunt you and bring you to justice." He stopped as he looked back down to her.

"We pulled down everything you loved and cherished. Your family, your castle, your wealth and your power, … it's all gone. I promise you one more thing. Your line and that of your father's will end. Neither your son nor your daughter will be able to ensure the survival of your dynasty. Your family line of incest and deceit will not be allowed to continue. The names of Cersei and Tywin Lannister will only be heard as whispers when people warn not to cross House Stark or the North. The names of Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella Waters will never be heard at all. They will be forgotten to history, labeled as insignificant and inconsequential."

The hate with which those words were said was frightening and many around them started to shuffle on their feet. Still, nobody would ever blame Robb for it. She had murdered their father. Her actions had led to family members of almost everybody present dying in the last 20 months of fighting. All wanted revenge, all wanted to see her dead.

When hearing of how her precious children would simply vanish from history, even Cersei Lannister seemed shocked and afraid. It seemed as if she trying not to start sobbing, a thing he could have never imagined.

Robb circled around until he stood in front of her and took a step back. He regally rested his right hand on Grey Wind's neck and proclaimed. "I, Robb Stark, King in the North and the Riverlands, Lord of Winterfell and protector of Riverrun, name you guilty of all the beforementioned crimes. As punishment, you will be sentenced to death."

Robb nodded to him and he stepped forward. He went to his knee and ceremoniously offered Ice to his brother and king. He took it out of the scabbard and walked over to the block that was placed by a few of the servants. Cersei was emotionlessly dragged towards it. They had all expected her to scream and shout, but she looked lifelessly in front of her.

"Any last words?" She looked up towards Robb and her defiance came back. After staring with a look of utter hatred for a few seconds, she spat at him. "May your family befall the same fate as mine. May your sons die in front of your eyes and your daughters be taken away never to return. May your castle be torn down and your home destroyed. May your people betray you and everyone you care for. I curse you and your family, Robb Stark. I curse you in the name of all the Gods, be they Old and New!"

His brother didn't even flinch. He simply nodded and signaled for a servant to press her down upon the block. He inhaled two times loudly, before Ice was swung high into the air. It came down in a lethal arc, as the head of father's killer was taken off with his own sword in one clean swoop.

It rolled into the mud in front of it and came to halt with its green eyes piercing towards the sky. For a while, nobody said a word. Their king broke the silence. "Justice has been served." He simply stated, before walking away closely followed by some of his honor guard.

For a while, people stood there not knowing what to do. After some time, they started to trickle out as he looked upon the head responsible for his father's, or uncle's, murder. When almost all were gone, Ser Wendel Manderly put his hand on his shoulder. "It's done, Jon. It's over. The Red Keep is no more, and the Lannister's reign is forever broken. You have your revenge, now it's time to let go and rebuild."

He looked over his shoulder to his former mentor and nodded. Together they walked towards the eating tent. A massive construction that served as a hall of some sort for the highest of the nobility. They went in and had some pints of ale brought over. They talked long about the future and what they would do if this war was over, although everyone knew more obstacles would have to be removed before they could ever accomplish any of that.

(Two days later)

Robb

They stood in the command tent around a large table with maps spread across it. More news had come in. The Dornish had taken Nightsong and were now besieging Harvest Hall. Blackhaven was on its last legs as well and was expected to fall in the next weeks, as well as some smaller keeps. When that happened, they would have to face the whole Dornish army at Storm's End.

Not a thing anyone was looking forward too, but they were preparing for it. In a few days they would march south. Before the main army, a small vanguard of two thousand men under the joined command of Lord Flint and Ser Aemon Estermont would leave to reinforce their position on the Wendwater and make sure no ambushes would await them in the Kingswood. Their entire army would take the Kingsroad south after that until they reached the seat of House Wendwater in three columns. There they would regroup their soldiers, mindful of any attacks south beyond that point.

In the meantime, they would be reinforced by the houses of the Southern Crownlands. They would try to rally the Stormlords as well but were realistic that it would have little effect for now. Most had fallen to or were besieged by the enemy. The others were mostly isolated and wouldn't be able to come to their aid. Besides, all those houses had lost the majority of their forces at the Blackwater anyway. No great forces would be able to be raised under the greatest of circumstances.

Once regrouped they would march down to Bronzegate. House Buckler hadn't answered the calls of Shireen Baratheon after Lord Ralph's cousin was killed on Dragonstone in an attempt to seize the regency. They didn't know how if they would be welcomed there, so they had to proceed with caution once they passed the Wendwater river.

He would leave a small force to take control of the area around King's Landing and ensure the loyalty of the former Crownlanders. The main army would proceed south from the moment Lord Harrold Arryn arrived with another three thousand Vale soldiers. It seemed as if the young lord wanted to prove himself in battle now that his rule was safe. Interestingly, Lord Royce and his daughter, the new lady Arryn, would be left as regents.

The reinforcements would be welcomed either way, although he wasn't looking forward to dealing with Lord Harrold. He had finally established good relations with Ser Andar and the other Vale commanders. When Lord Harrold arrived, he would have to invest that energy all over again as command would shift towards him.

Sadly, he didn't have enough time to ponder upon that now . He had ordered parts of his forces to help clear out the remnants of the city. All buildings on both Aegon's and Visenya's hills were gone. Aegon's Hill had imploded to the point where the once greatest elevation of the city was now smaller than the other two. They would just clear what they could there, as the complete work would take weeks.

Visenya's hill hadn't really exploded, but much was burned out. His men had managed to salvage some of the Faith's heirlooms that had still been stored in the Great Sept, but the building itself was largely destroyed. He knew rumors were going around that it was no coincidence that only the Sept had also been blown up. A thing not helped by the attitude of some of his friends.

Even though he had had nothing to do with it, he couldn't deny that it had solved a problem for him. He wanted to largely abandon the corrupt city and convert it into a well-functioning border town in the far future. Having the largest structure of the Faith there didn't help his vision.

He had also not been keen on having the influence of the Most Devout in his kingdom or so close at his borders. If he treaded lightly to not offend too many of his vassals, this could solve many a problem. It was almost too convenient, if he thought about it. Maybe some of his friends had had something to do with it in the end …

He would never find out though, nor did he want to. Unity was what they needed now and there was much to be done. Thousands of houses needed to be cleared out, if they didn't want major diseases to start spreading. Some of his vassals had even turned to controlled fires in closed of neighborhoods to quicken the clearing process.

Many transports also had to be organized. First of all, there were the prisoners from the Westerlands and the Reach that had to be moved to secure keeps in the Riverlands. Secondly, there were the first shipments of loot going north to White Harbor. Sadly, he couldn't transfer even a third of what he wanted, as most of his ships were needed to fight against the Targaryen Pretender. Lastly, there were the constant supplies for his army that had to go through here. He had already organized many supply convoys to many keeps between the Blackwater and the Wendwater so he would be less depended on the situation here, but it remained a lot of work.

Work he would have rather spend on the issues at hand, as the Dornish Marches weren't the only region from where troubling messages were heard from. Apparently, parts of the Golden Company still remained on the Stepstones. They had taken up certain positions there and would be transported to reinforce the enemy army soon. A thing he didn't like one bit and that they would have to try and stop with their own fleets.

More surprising news from Essos had also come. It seemed Daenerys Targaryen had left Meereen with a big army of Unsullied and freed slaves. On which fleet nobody knew. By now, she was somewhere close to Volantis, where a massive slave revolt had broken out support of her. It seemed that she didn't have anything directly to do with it, but there were also rumors of her defeating the Iron Fleet in the Gulf of Grief that had encouraged the uprising.

Although it was a joy to hear of the defeat of the ironborn after everything they had done to them, having to fight the one capable of doing that in the future didn't prove reassuring. They didn't know much, only rumors from traders docking in Dragonstone, Duskendale or Gulltown. Many among them dismissed the stories of her defeating the ironborn and especially those talking about dragonfire. Still, one thing was clear, Aerys the second's daughter was sailing west.

This made his campaign against the pretender in the Stormlands even more pressing. He would have to defeat him before they could unite, and he would have to do it fast. His plan was to force them to fight a decisive battle between Bronzegate and Storm's End. His army should outnumber them and most of his forces were much more experienced than anything the enemy could throw at him except for the Golden Company.

When he had said that aloud, but a few minutes ago, his uncle Brynden had cautioned him for the likes of Oberyn Martell and Lord Yronwood. Both apparently knew how to fight. Many lords who had been present at the Trident also cautioned for the strength of a Dornish spear wall. The respect many of the older lords showed for the Dornish was remarkable and he would ask them more about it on the march to make sure he didn't underestimate them.

"Why don't we send ships to intercept her from coming to Westeros? It would either delay her arrival and give us more time to defeat this 'Aegon', or it could stop her all together." Domeric proposed.

"With what force? The pretender's fleet at Tarth prohibits any action our fleet could undertake." Ser Ander Royce answered.

"Why not hire a sellsword fleet in Lys or Tyrosh? She is known for trying to break up slavery. Those cities whole existence and economy would collapse if she had her way. I don't think any of them wants her to rule in Westeros any more than we do. Let alone what damage she will do in passing their cities. She might just attack them outright, if not challenged properly." The young Lord Bolton explained.

He looked to him, pondering the suggestion. It wasn't such a bad idea, if he was honest. The worst-case scenario would be that she would be delayed and lose parts of her army for some coin. Best-case scenario was that she would be dealt with without the loss of any of their own men.

He looked around the tent. "What do you all think about this proposal?" He asked his lords. Most seemed to agree and after working out the details, he decided to send Lord Melcolm as their envoy to Tyrosh. The man had experience dealing with the Free Cities and had served in a sellsword company in Essos for a few months back when he had only been a young second son.

It was his job to have a Tyroshi fleet intercept her at the Stepstones and try to prevent her from reaching Westeros. Taking out some of the positions of the Golden Company on those islands would be a boon against both Targaryens, but that was only secondary. They would offer the Tyroshi coin, future trade agreements and the ownership of all the territory on the Stepstones now in control of the Golden Company.

After that, it was the North's turn. He had of course received multiple messages, one of them from his wife on the progress their daughter was making. However, he had also received letters from Alaric Karstark and the Greatjon's cousins.

Apparently, the wildlings were still restless. Another one of their attacks had been pushed back at the Wall, but many losses had been encountered on their side. Alaric also warned them about his grandfather. Old Arnolf was appointed castellan of Karhold when Lord Rickard left with all his sons. It seemed that he was getting bolder by the day in that position. He had supposedly been heard openly criticizing Harrion's leadership and capability to rule.

The latter was growing increasingly annoyed with the fact, although he could do little about it from here. He himself had made sure Harry was in complete control of the Karstark forces and had ordered Alys to throw her weight in in the situation to balance things out in the North. The greatest relieve in the situation was that Alaric seemed to distance himself from his grandfather more and more as time passed by. The Karstark cousin commanded an important part of the remaining garrison and was constantly dealing with other houses. It wouldn't do if he was to tarnish Harry's reputation with them.

Still, the situation was to be monitored. There were also rumors about renewed activity around the Dreadfort, but nothing concrete could be heard. Most of the local nobles Domeric contacted didn't reply, which didn't help the situation at all. He knew that after they got home, those were the first things he would have to deal with.

Lastly, news had also come from the Reach. It seemed the ironborn where still making steady progress against Houses Redwyne and Hightower. All accounts told them they now controlled most of the Arbor proper, including House Redwyne's ancestral castle. To make matters worse, it seemed they had managed to sink the vast majority of the Hightower fleet in the bay outside of the city.

The Reachmen seemingly fought hard and the victory wasn't without losses for the ironborn, but it was still a big blow. Although he despised all of the slaughter the ironborn inflicted, he couldn't fail to notice that this was good news for him in the long run. These losses seemed to weaken two of the strongest houses of the Reach and its damage would last for decades. Additionally, it would also damage Willas' image, as they were the two houses closest to him in his rule.

His ideal scenario would be a Reachmen victory, as he would still have to deal with the ironborn in the future. Yet, the more damage the Reach took the better for him. Willas had already dismissed his peace offer, he didn't want him to be able to wage war on him any time soon. There was also no benefit of him fighting with the Reach. All it would ever lead to was more death and destruction in return for nothing more than loot. No amount of coin was worth devasting another area like that, let alone losing more of his men. Not if he could help it anyway.

Besides the messages clearly mentioned ironborn losses as well, so that was something to cheer for in the very least. Every raider sent back to his cursed Drowned God was a boon to Westeros and one less rapist that could wash up on his shores in the following years.

All that was left to discuss now was what to do with the citizens of the city. After some haggling and the arrival of big parts of the Vale trading fleet, the Vale lords had accepted to transport some twenty thousand civilians towards the Vale. They would be spread around Saltpans, Wickenden, Gulltown and the lands and ports belonging to Houses Royce, Melcolm and Hunter. They would replace some of the losses the areas had taken during the civil war, as well as stimulate replacing the ships they had lost due to the flight of the majority of the Grafton fleet.

When he had walked through the encampment outside of the city, as well as the few neighborhoods that were still inhabitable, he had noticed thousands and thousands of orphaned children. Often, they were still very small and forced to starve or illegally obtain food. It broke his heart to see children the ages of Bran, Arya or even Rickon forced to fend for themselves.

He had written additional letters to Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord Ondrew Locke, Lord Byam Woolfield and Lady Lyessa Flint a few weeks ago to send over transport ships to start dealing with the issue and they had finally arrived.

He realized that the worst of it might be here, but many other orphans would exist in the Riverlands due to the mass destruction. Even in the North their numbers would grow when some of their fathers didn't return from the campaign. His father had told him he always needed to take care of his people, so he would try to stand by that here.

Messages had flown to order the construction of orphanages in White Harbor, Winterfell, Barrowton, Riverrun, Seagard, Fairmarket, Duskendale, Widow's Watch and Oldcastle. After successful reconstruction of the towns, two more would be built at Maidenpool and Stoney Sept. He would not let a whole generation of his subjects go to waste or die of starvation. In these orphanages, the boys would be thought skills to aid in the local economies. Girls would be though basic skills such as sewing and how to organize a family.

He also made sure the orphanages in the North would partially focus on Northern identity and belief in the Old Gods. The last thing he wanted was to alienate the local people by importing foreign acting smallfolk. The only exception would be White Harbor, where they would be allowed the freedom to organize it in either faith. Ser Wyllis had been enthusiastic at the idea, as in the long term it would mean hundreds of additional, well-trained sailors for their trading fleets.

All orphanages would be founded with money from the campaigns in the Westerlands. After establishment, they would have to be run by the local lords. The economic benefits they would bring on the long term would largely go to those same lords, so he didn't feel bad about burdening them with this.

Some eight thousand orphans under the age of ten would be moved throughout his realm. Of those, five thousand would go to the North on the ships that had arrived. At least a thousand of them would be going to Wintertown, where Alys had long been constructing two very large orphanages for them, one for males and one for females. The only rule in spreading out the children would be that no siblings of the same sex would ever be separated and that those of the other sex would be allowed to see each other regularly. Alys had been adamant on this in her letters and he had chosen to enforce it throughout his whole kingdom.

He wanted to make it a tradition for Stark Kings to take care of orphans after wars. It would not only help those kids, it would also be beneficial economically, as well as strengthen their hold over the smallfolk. The men might feel more inclined to fight for his family when they knew their offspring would be well cared for, if the worst should happen. Sadly, he only dared to take the younger orphans in as he wanted those people to assimilate into the local cultures as much as possible.

He had thought about things he could do for the others as well, and some small measures had been implemented. Around two hundred boys between the ages of twelve and fourteen had been accepted in the army as stable boys, apprentice fletchers or blacksmiths and the like. Some three hundred strong boys from the age of fifteen and up had been recruited in the army. They were being trained under the stern command of Rodrik Umber, the Greatjons brother.

Another one hundred and fifty adolescent girls had been accepted as servants and washerwomen for the upcoming campaign. He did all he could to help as many as possible, but even after all of those measures a hundred and ten thousand people remained in or outside the city. He once again urged the lords of the Crownlands to take in some more people.

Most had already gotten large influxes of immigrants over the last year and had a hard time housing them and keeping the peace in their own lands because of it all. Still, some like old Lord Rosby promised to take in a few more which he was very glad for. Ser Andrew Estermont mentioned that a few hundred would be transported to Dragonstone and Driftmark as well. Apparently, Queen Shireen wanted to do much more, but she wasn't able to at this time. However, they promised to take in thousands more when their lands were freed from the Targaryens.

Ser Andar had also promised to talk with his liege Lord Arryn about settling some of them in the personal lands of House Arryn, as they had suffered under the civil war. Great strides were made because of all of this, but tens of thousands of people were still positioned outside the city with too little food and hygiene to keep them all alive and it broke his heart. Killing your enemies was one thing, having tens of thousands of civilians pay the price for it was another entirely.

The situation was so dire that a few hundred boys between the ages of fourteen and seventeen had even accepted to voluntarily go to the Wall, just so they would have something to eat this coming winter. He had wholeheartedly accepted this, yet it still saddened him to see that such measures would be necessary for them to survive.

After no more lords spoke up, he finished the meeting and sighed. He had heard his uncle say that King Robert had noticed how conquering a kingdom was one thing, while ruling it was something completely different. Be that as it may, fixing a region that had been neglected and destroyed by Cersei Lannister was much more difficult than both of them combined.

Now that most of his thirst for revenge was satiated, he just hoped this war would soon be over so he could start helping the people to survive the coming winter. He also wanted to start building out his kingdom, beginning with the plans his father never got around to. Before he could start any of that, he would first need to defeat the Targaryen pretender. A part of him couldn't wait to be on campaign again. He only felt truly in control of his fate when leading an army. It was then he felt he himself could make the difference. Only a few more days, then they would be off.

This is it for this chapter!

The Red Keep is destroyed, and we see Jon struggle with his Targaryen legacy. Robb has secretly kept a lot of Targaryen heirlooms for him to discover more about his father's family.

Cersei is finally executed. The Stark boys have their revenge. Campaign plans are made to fight against (F)Aegon, as more of the Stormlands falls into his hands.

Daenerys is coming to Westeros and plans are made to stop/slow her advance. Not many believe the stories about dragons. Meanwhile, the ironborn make progress in the Reach and the situation at the Wall is still unstable.

Robb wants to help the people of King's Landing but finds that sometimes ruling has its limitations, even as a king. With the most acute part of his vengeance done, he wants to start his rule but he can't because of the Targaryens.

Thank you for your support!

Fannic

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- Raw666: They were based on the idea of the Valyrian road network, although not as good. Thank you very much for the kind words!

- Finkarhu: You're welcome!

- Force Smuggler: I'm playing with that idea for the moment.

- Demindp93: You're welcome! For the moment I have a multi-chapter epilogue planned.

- LordRhyolith: Glad you like it!

- Poly19hum: Thank you! I have never seen it done before, but maybe there is precedent I don't know about? I personally think I'm making progress in knowing how to describe characters better, glad you appreciate it too!

- Supremus85: It is more tactical than you think. He's a cripple and many think him weak. If he shows weakness by immediately making a (losing) treaty with Robb, he will look even weaker and it might cost him Highgarden. I see Willas first trying to get control of the Reach and making a united front against the ironborn, to then come back to Robb from a position of relative strength. He would also be freer to negotiate as he would have proven himself to his bannermen already. However, you'll have to wait and see if this works out or not. Thank you!

- Greatazuredragon: Thank you! It's the only way to not get another pretender every decade or so.

- Sozin's Flame: Thank you!

- KaTee19: Love the enthusiasm! I won't spoil the Targaryen reactions yet. You will see them in a few chapters.

- Minatom: I answered you in PM.

- Iacopo Passerini: That and being afraid to die for a lost cause. I describe it here now, last chapter she was still alive! Tommen is alive … for now. Myrcella is in Dorne, a hostage to Doran. The Iron Bank will certainly come after hearing this news. No, it was almost revealed who Jon is, but they acted quickly enough. Even though some might start to suspect something is up. (F)Aegon will be hard to defeat, Daenerys is still on her way.

- Angeluszuko-z: As mentioned above here, it is more tactical than it looks. You don't negotiate from a position of weakness when you are trying to win over your bannermen. Jon spent a lot of time thinking about his Targaryen heritage here. He finally accepts it, although he rejects what it means and the claims it brings with it.

- Guest1: Robbeary won't happen. Margaery's fate will be shown later on. The Reach is in a three-way war between Tyrell/Tarly, Florent/supporters and the ironborn. Dorne joined (F)Aegon.

- Guest2: No problem. Fancy announcements aren't their style. Besides it might have complicated matters as some Riverlords/Crownlanders might bend to Jon instead (Darry, Mooton, Rykker, …).

- Guest3: Some did yes. The problem is that they can't support Robb (yet), as he isn't in the Westerlands. Another problem is the fact that almost all of their leader figures are in Robb's custody. There is barely anyone left to rally around. Organizing themselves in their homeland will be incredibly difficult.