Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Seventy-Six

He could not say that he hadn't been warned ahead of time, Robert had always used to tell him stories about some of the storms that would strike his Father's lands when they were both still boys at the Eyrie, they could last for days before even starting to die down and often times they would cause the rivers to overflow and make swamps in the middle of the woods and brand new rivers.

It was one thing to hear it, it was hardly the same thing to actually experience it first hand. On their way from Storm's End to the Marches a heavy storm had fallen on to them once they were two hours away from the castle and Ned had shivered as the rain pounded down on to him and made his cloak stick to his clothes and blinded him from the road as it fell into his eyes.

It hadn't even begun to let up for almost four days as the rain just kept falling, like an endless wall of water. It should have taken them only five days to reach the Marches but the rain had done all that Robert had promised it would, rivers overflowed and new ones would be created and it slowed them down so much that they had not even traveled half the distance that they needed to do in those four days.

And of course, there was the illnesses. Father had told him once that a host was a breeding ground for illnesses, the larger the host was the more varied the diseases would pop up and the quicker they would spread and the constant rainfall with little covering and no real chance to change into any dryer clothes meant that illnesses popped up even faster.

There's was not a small host, to be sure. Ned may have only brought five hundred northmen down with him from Moat Cailin but the lords of the Stormlands had called on their banners to arrive at Storm's End and his five hundred men found them swallowed up by a host almost thirty-five thousand strong and among such numbers the illness would fester.

Men of the North and men of the Stormlands were hardy, the northmen were used to the deep cold that had always surrounded them and the stormlords were used to the heavy rain but no man was used to illness, a deep cough began to spread through the footmen of the host after a day and a half of travailing from Storm's End and the next day it had become a cough with a heavy shiver that could be called a shuddering without anyone being accused of overreacting for describing it as such and as it has festered inside of them, a fever burned under their skin by the fourth day.

If the rain had not let up when it had done Ned was terrified to think of what would have happened, it wasn't just the fact that the illnesses might grow worse as the weather got worse but also that they needed to move as quickly as they possibly could and yet they had hardly seemed to move at all, Ned had heard that some of the men were jesting that they could spit in the direction of Storm's End and hit the walls without even trying.

It was not the first time that Ned had cursed the lords of the Marches for making the choice they had made, to not take up arms for Renly and instead decided to remain loyal to the King. Or maybe not the entire marches, but certainly three of their lords and three important ones at that had raised against them. Lord Grandison made the most sense of all of them as his uncle had been a member of the King's own Kingsguard and that was a great honor and it connected them to the crown even if the knight who had the spot was gone.

Lord Fell and Lord Cafferen were both slightly more surprising but Ned supposed that vows did mean something to some men, he had always considered himself to be one of them as well but then he had never thought that he would be sworn to give fealty to a man who had killed his friend or was perfectly willing to burn women and children alive. Maybe it made these three lords better than him, they stood by their word even when it was hard to do so.

But in the end maybe they were all as bad as one another, Ned was a traitor and an Oathbreaker who was going to fight to depose the royal family to put a child who was barely more than a babe on the throne while they were staying loyal to a man who burned men alive for the slightest of reasons and ripped the tongues out of people for making a jest, there were no stainless heroes here like the ones in the stories that Old Nan used to tell them when they were all smaller, sitting around her and munching on the small mince pies the cook would make for them.

Maybe in the end, everyone was just trying to do the best that they could. What they thought was right, it was just that this time what Ned thought was right and what these Lords thought was right did not meet in the same place. And now men would have to be marched through the rain to die in order to settle this difference, maybe that made all of them monsters in the end.

Monster or no, storm or no, they marched. They had to, they could not fight a war if there was a dagger ever posed to stab them in the back as well as to deny them any sort of support from Dorne, according to the birds from those lords that had sworn loyalty to Renly it looked as though the three lords and their hosts were making their way to the castle of Summerhall.

Summerhall was well known for it's tragedy but in truth Ned did not care about it's history at the moment, only what it meant in terms of the war. It was hardly known as a great fortress to withstand a siege but Ned doubted that was what the lords meant to use it for. Summerhall was located in the foothills of the Marches and would make for an excellent meeting point for a march on Storm's End and the Boneway ran south from it, any Dornish host could be slowed from there if not stopped.

There were two main routes into Dorne over land, the Boneway and the Prince's Pass. The pass lead through the Reach and any Dornish host was unlikely to pass through those lands as while none could tell for sure the fact that none of the ravens that the King had sent out had named the Tyrells as traitors as well as the Baratheons nor was there any call for them to be questioned on their loyalty so it seemed likely that they would side with Aerys, even if Ned could not be sure of that.

The safest option then was to come up through the Boneway and into the Stormlands, as many years of war laid between the Stormlands and Dorne as did between Dorne and Highgarden but as of right now the lords of Dorne and the lords of the Stormlands shared a common enemy while the Reach did not and so it was safer for them to come through the Stormlands where they could join with them.

But with those three lords standing with the king and making for Summerhall meant they couldn't easily ride up to meet them, they could hold the Dornish off for a time at Summerhall and while it was no great for, if they were forced to lay siege it would give the armies of those lords who had sided with the King to march on them from the capital and this war would be over in a matter of weeks and it would be Ned's turn to be tied to a pyre.

So, they had to get this done as quickly as possible and the weather was not helping at all. It could've been worse, Ronald Connington, the uncle of the current Hand of the King, had fled back to Griffin's Roost on the same day that they had declared for Renly but he had not risen his forces yet. The Roost was not far from Storm's End at all, it would make more sense for them the lords who were gathering against them to meet there but there had been no birds seen flying from the walls of the Roost.

Some of the lords had suggested that it meant that there was a debate between the members of House Connington as to where they should place their loyalties, others had suggested that because young Jon Connington was the Hand of the King the rest of his house might have a clearer view as to what the King was and were choosing to sit the war out.

Whatever the reason, whatever the side they planned to take or what course of action they would follow, the Roost was silent. It's closeness to Storm's End was of course a problem and thus they had all taken pains to make sure that the castle would be well protected. Storm's End had never fallen to siege but there was no reason to take any chances when it came to this.

Every lord that had come to Storm's End left fifty men behind to strengthen the garrison of it's own men, in the end it had come up to over two thousand men left to guard the castle and considering how strong Storm's End was it would be enough to hold it against any sort of threat for a long time. Running out of food during a siege was more likely to be a problem than anyone breaching the walls.

Ned did have to wonder what poor little Renly thought about all of this, a few moons ago he had only been a little boy with no worries or fears with two older brothers to shoulder the burdens of leadership when all he had to do was be a child, play and explore and train to be a knight or maybe join the maesters or become a priest or raise castles, whatever he wished to do.

Now he was going to be a king and Ned had done that to him, he had not done it by himself to be sure but would the other stormland lords have thought of it if he had not put the idea into their heads? Perhaps they would have anyway but it was just as likely that they would have agree to send him to King Aerys, Lord Estermont might have stood against it and perhaps a few more as well from what little Ned had seen in the main keep of Storm's End that day but he doubted that it would have been enough.

Just like it's lord House Estermont was old and proud but it had never been overly powerful and would not have been able to stand against the rest of the Stormlands alone but Ned had done what he could to spark a fire in them and now Renly of the House Baratheon was now Renly, the first of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the rightful king of the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar.

In truth he was not much of anything unless they managed to win, he was just a claimant to the throne and nothing more. No doubt in court he was just referred to as a traitor, or a puppet for vile lords to use to rule through. Like every good lie there was some grain of truth in that, Renly was a child and until he came of age he would need a regent, just as Aegon the Third of his name had needed a regent after the Dance of Dragons.

And just like Aegon the Unhappy it was decided that for Renly there would be a council of Regents instead of allowing merely one man or woman to hold all of the power that came from the young king. Lord Estermont was the first to suggest a regency council and as he was Renly's own grandfather it was only right that he had a place on it, all had agreed to that.

Sadly, it was all they had managed to agree on as soon all the noble lords of the Stormlands turned into fishwives, haggling over positions on the council like it was a very fine piece of cod. They spoke of how well they had known Lord Robert, or how well they had known Lord Steffon in some cases. They had spoken of how Lady Cassana had sworn them keep her sons safe if anything were to ever happen to her, other spoke of how well they had run their own lands while others had praised their own skill when it had come to war and that their boy king would need someone with a firm hand to guide him.

In the end, alongside Lord Estermont, Lord Selwyn Tarth of Tarth, Lord Tomas Penrose of Parchments, Lady Mary Mertyns of Mistwood, Lord Luke Morrigan of the Crow's Nest and Lord Alesander Staedmon of Broad Arch were all given seats on Renly's council. The boy's septon, maester, master-at-arms and nursemaid were also given unofficial seats as they would be the ones directly in charge of Renly's well being and education.

It had seemed to Ned a very fine council and one chosen with a great deal of both wisdom and sympathy for their young charge as well, of course there had been some who had not been happy with those who had been given places on their council or were unhappy that they had not been given places themselves but that was always going to be the case. The council was formed.

The most shocking thing to Ned had been what had happened the morning after the council had been formed, he had been breaking his fast with the northern lords he had brought with him when a young page had informed him that the regency council wished to see him. Ned had made his excuses to his men and stood to follow the boy.

As soon as they had arrived the council had dismissed the page and had ordered Ned to sit down, he had been expecting them to perhaps try and command him to return to the North for some reason but that was not it at all. Lord Estermont smiled at him and offered Ned a position on the council as one of Renly's regents, and not in an unofficial capacity.

The first thought that had come into Ned's head after the offer was made to him was to wonder why the gods had made it so that his life would turn out this way. He had never wanted any of this, he had never wanted to be a Kingmaker and he had certainly never wanted to be anyone's regent. He hadn't even wanted Winterfell, when it came to that. He just wanted a peaceful life, a happy wife, a dozen children or so running around their feet.

He had not wanted this, to be speaking to great lords and making decisions that could affect the fates of kingdoms. He had refused the offer, pointing out that he was not from the Stormlands and the other lords would no doubt take offense if he was to be given a place on the council, he was not in fact a lord in his own right and was very young. But that had not done much, if anything, to dissuade them.

They argued back and forth for hours, it seemed looking back on it. In the end, nothing he had said mattered much. It had been his own words that had condemned him to this. He had crowned the king, he had split the cream, as Lady Mary had put it. He would share in their glories and their miseries in equal measure and that had been the end of it and he was soon a member of the regent's council.

Once that had been done it came to explaining everything to the boy. What Renly had thought of his brother's absence and all of these people in his home were unknown to Ned, his nursemaid and Maester had merely told him that important business was being discussed and that he was to be a good boy and to stay out of the way.

But they could not keep it from him any longer, Ned had been disappointed when he had arrived and found that he hadn't been told already. He was a child, that was the reason he had not been told. That was what Maester Cressen had said that day that Ned had arrived at Storm's End. It had disgusted him at the time, he might have been a child but his brothers were dead and to keep the truth from him was a cruelty while lords were debating what was to be done with him inside his own castle, it was cruel and cowardly.

And so Renly was brought to them, the little boy clinging to his nursemaid's hand and when Ned had first seen him running through the yard with a wooden sword in hand he had seemed a right lively boy, with not a care in the world. When he had been brought into the hall that day, Ned thought that there had been a mistake and the nursemaid had brought a different lad to them.

He had seemed so small and scared, perhaps he thought that he had done something wrong and had been brought to be punished. It had been decided that it would be Lord Estermont and Lady Mertyns who would speak to him, that such news had to be given gently. Renly already knew Lord Ederon as his Grandfather and Lady Mary already had two grandsons, she knew how to speak gentle when it was required of her.

Lord Ederon was quick to sooth the boy that he had done nothing wrong when he asked if that was why he had been summoned. Ned had expected the boy to burst out into tears when he heard of the deaths of his brothers but instead he had only looked up into the face of his nursemaid who then gave him the slightest of nods. Renly did not cry, but he bent his head and looked down at his feet and said nothing.

None thought that it was a good idea to tell them how they had died and so they had simply said that they had died at the hand of the King, that he was a terrible man and something needed to be done about him and so there needed to be a new King. Renly was going to be the new king.

Ned wasn't sure what his reaction would be if he was to be told that he was going to be king one day out of the blue after he had also learned that his brothers were dead and he was the last of his line but little Renly Baratheon's head shot up, his blue eyes went wide and any trace of sorrow that might have been there before was gone now.

The boy had not stayed long after that, only long enough for them to explain to him that they were his regents and what their duties to him were and once all of that was done his nursemaid took him back out of the hall and left the council to debate. Ned had not seen much of anything of Renly after that, most of his time then was spent between his Northmen, the council and sleeping.

And then word came of the three lords and the time to march had come. Lord Ederon was an old man and could not take command of his own forces and so he had placed his son, Ser Eldron Estermont, in charge of his men. Ser Eldron was not a young man by any stretch, but he was not so old as his Lord Father and he was clearly well known and well respected.

Lord Ederon and Lady Mary would remain inside the walls of Storm's End while the rest of the regents would ride out with their men and put an end to this uprising. Perhaps they would have have already put an end to it if it hadn't been for the gods-forsaken weather. Weren't the stories of how a storm god's rage had been the reason for Storm's End being constructed? Well, what did it mean when that god's rage now seemed to have been turned on them for four, very long, very wet and very cold days?

But all the same, the rain had let up enough that they could regain some amount of speed even as fevers burned. Ned shivered atop his horse as he rode and he finally decided to reach up and undo his cloak and threw it aside, letting it come to rest in the muck. He would not normally throw anything away for the simple reason that it was wet, but it was doing more harm than good.

Thankfully, the closer that they got to the foothills the warmer the air seemed to get and soon clothes began to dry out and while coughs lingers here and there, they had mostly avoided any disaster. Only a few hundred footmen had died from the fever and only another hundred or so had deserted. It times like this, it was the best Ned could truly hope for.

As they rode and got closer to Summerhall, Ser Eldron pointed something out to him. Even assuming that the rain had slowed Lord Grandison, Lord Fell and Lord Cafferen's hosts down as well they did have a head start and would have most likely already arrived at Summerhall before them. And yet.

There had been no scouts, no outriders. Nothing to slow them down, nothing that would suggest that they were keeping track of their movements at all. Which meant that they would be coming up on them in a blind spot. Some of the younger lords and knights had suggested that they press that advantage but many of the older lords had suggested that there was a trap.

"I know Steven Grandison from when we were boys." Selwyn Tarth had offered up when they had stopped for the night, his blue shinning in the firelight. "He's not a fool, he wouldn't forget to do something as simple as sending out outriders and neither would Fell or Cafferen. There is something wrong about this, some trap."

Most everyone agreed with that assessment but the sad truth was that they had no time to try and wait it out, they needed to march on Summerhall and put an end to this as soon as they possibly could if they did not want to get caught between two armies. They had to end them quickly and then turn and rush back North and do...something, in truth he was not sure of what yet. At least he would not have to make that decision on his own, that was one advantage to a council of regents.

And so they had ridden on, comforting themselves with the thought that if it was a trap then surely it was now going to be less effective now that they knew about it. It was like dealing with a snare on a forest floor, if you did not know that it was there then your leg would be tangled up in it but if you knew it was there, then you could step around it.

But it was stranger how the closer they got to Summerhall there still seemed to be no sign that they were preparing for any sort of battle, their own scouts and outriders had seen nothing to suggest that they sending their own men out. If it was a trap that they were walking into, then it was a deftly hidden one.

They made camp that night about a day's ride from the ruins of the castle, a wind was blowing through the trees and for the first time it seemed to hold not even a hint of a chill. They debated well into the night that day, saying it was foolish to go and further without any idea of what could be waiting for them and that had been answered by saying that they needed to go on, that they could crush them with ease.

In the end, none of it mattered. They all knew that they had to go and so all of them had gone on to find their beds to try and get some rest ahead of the battle to come. Ned had not been able to sleep, he had simply starred up at the moon and thought of Elia, Lyanna, his children, his father and all that could go no wrong.

Summerhall loomed large in the morning when they began to ride forward through the early morning, the sun casting long shadows from the hills across the ground. Soon, faster than Ned had been expecting and slower than perhaps he had hoped, they had arrived at the ruins of Summerhall and he found himself cursing that he had washed away the rain so quickly.

Ned did not know much of the tragedy at Summerhall, only that something terrible had happened that had ended with only King Aerys and Queen Rhaella, who then had been Prince and Princess, as the only survivors. But whatever had happened it had left the castle a gutted ruin, black and twisted for flames that burned hotter than any other. But even a ruined castle could prove a useful thing to have on your side during a siege or a battle.

When the ruins of Summerhall came into view much was what Ned had come to expect, the ruined castle was in the center of a massive host of men and banners fluttered in the breeze and atop the ruined walls. What he did not expect was the fact that the banners fluttering in the breeze were not a sleeping lion, a crescent moon hanging above a line or trees or two white fawns back to back.

No, a golden hand being held up palm front on a circle of black and red, a vulture with a babe grasped in it's claws, a proud hooded blue hawk on silver, a golden quill on checkered green, a skull on black with a crown on it's head, three black scorpions on red, a green dragon eating it's own tail, a black snake wrapped around a leg and a black portcullis, along with a dozen or more others, held sway in that day. And high above them all, a golden spear running through an orange sun.

"How many are there?" Lord Selwyn asked as his eyes narrowed, running over the massive host that had gathered at the ruins of the castle. He was squeezing the reins of his horse.

"A great deal, I would say at least ten thousand and more besides, perhaps even double that." It was certainly a large host if not quite so large as their own, and Ned could not be more glad in that moment. Dorne had come and they had now two allies to put an end to the King's madness, and to get Lya back as well.

"Riders approaching!" The cry went up and Ned looked close and so it was, a few small dots had broken away from the large host and were now moving towards them. As the dots got closer to them, they began to form into four riders on horseback. The rider in front was a handsome woman with grey hair and a long neck, following her were three Dornishmen with spears in hand and long curved swords on their hips.

"My lords, my name is Lady Agatha Grandison." If there was any fear in the woman, her voice did not show it though to Ned she seemed more than a little pale. "I have been sent forth to inform you that my Lord Husband, Lord Steven, has bent the knee in surrender to Prince Oberyn Martell. As have Lord Ethan Fell and Lord Rickard Cafferen. They are all in captivity but have been treated gently as befits their birth and station."

"Prince Oberyn would now beg my lords attention, Lord Eddard." The lady calling his name made Eddard look away from the ruins of the castle for a moment and into her direction. "Prince Oberyn would like to see you as well, he imagines that you both would have much to discuss." Ned for thought half a moment and then nodded, thanking Lady Agatha.

"Yes, thank you my Lady. Please, we will follow you." Lord Selwyn spoke before turning and yelling a command for the host that had followed them all of this way to hold, a hundred or more commanders repeated the command and when it was clear the that the host was not going to move, Lord Selwyn, Ser Eldron, Ned and a dozen other lords began to follow after Lady Agatha and the guards who had been sent to stop her from trying to ride away.

Dozens of faces turned towards them as they rode past but hundreds of other faces just continued to ignore them, because they were dicing with their fellows or groping a whore on their lap or were lost in their own thoughts. Ned thought back to the time he had spent in Dorne with Elia and the boys and studied every face to see if he could see one that he recognized.

But the truth was that most of his time had been spent within the walls of Sunspear or in the Shadow City that clung to it's walls, some men of the Shadow City would no doubt have marched when their Prince had commanded them to do so but Ned had not been there long enough to commit any faces to memory and anyone not from the seat of House Martell was a stranger to him.

Lady Agatha lead them to a large tent, burnt orange in color with brass tips reaching up the corners and glowing in the sunlight. Lady Agatha dismounted, followed by her guards and then the rest of the lords dismounted after them. Lady Agatha lead them into the tent and then spoke. "Prince Oberyn, your guests have arrived."

Oberyn Martell was sitting in a chair at the other side of the tent from the entrance, a cup of wine was grasped loosely in one hand and his other hand was resting under his chin, his dark eyes shone as he saw them come in. He drained his cup, nodded and stood from his chair. "Thank you for this service, my Lady. It was very good of you. Go and be with your husband, I am certain he would be gladdened to see you."

Lady Agatha nodded and turned to walk out of the tent, two of the guards falling in behind her. Prince Oberyn walked down to them and a smile spread across his face when his eyes finally landed on Ned. "It's good to see you again, brother."

Ned returned the smile, the first one he had really felt like giving in what seemed to be far to long a time. "It's good to see you as well, brother." Clasping Oberyn's hand with his own and pulled him close, clapping him on the back as he pulled into a hug before turning to face the lords he had traveled with. "My lords, this is Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell, mine own goodbrother."

"An honor, my lords."

"And an honor to meet you, Prince Oberyn." Lord Selwyn responded and all the other lords said much the same thing in different ways. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, Ned turned his full attention on to Oberyn.

"What are you doing here Oberyn?" Ned asked as the rest of the lords began to spread out through out the tent, Luke Morrigan picked up a pitcher of wine and poured himself a cup and most of the other lords followed suit. "What happened? These lords rose up but how did you know? How did you get here so quickly?"

"Yes, I have to admit I find myself curious as to that as well." Ser Eldron spoke, a suspicious tilt to his voice. "This is not a small host, in any sense of the word. You would surely have to know that something was wrong in order to get here in any amount of time to make a difference."

"In truth, we did not know that any lords had risen up when we left from Dorne." Oberyn spoke as he made his way back to the chair and sat down in it, gesturing with his hand. "We were already on our way here, as it happens. Black wings carried word to us as of what happened at King's Landing and of what happened to your sister Ned, my sympathies." Ned nodded in acknowledgement and Oberyn continued. "My brother, Prince Doran, commanded me to gather the banners and to march. We would have sent ravens, but they could have been shot down."

"Once we had the men we needed we marched North from Yronwood, past castle Wyl, and into the Dornish Marches." There was a grumble at Oberyn referring to the Marches as Dornish but thankfully, no one seemed to argue with him about it for the moment. "A few of the lords were somewhat concerned as to our presence, as is to be expected. Thankfully, for all of us, they seem to be mostly in support of your little King and did not trouble us overly much but we took care not to tarry long there, thank our Sand Steeds for that. They are not capable of carrying a man in full armor but, they are quick when they have little to carry."

"And so on we hurried to Summerhall, I do have to wonder what Lord Grandison thought when he was informed that twenty thousand Dornish spears were coming at him from the South. He might have tried to hold out against us with his other allies but when word had reached him that you all had set out from Storm's End and he was to be trapped between two armies if he stayed, in a ruined castle that was unlikely to hold out long against a siege and no word if any aid was coming, or harried by us if he choose to march to meet you, well, he called me in to negotiate an agreement with me."

"The three lords have been confined to their tents, I thought about putting them in the dungeons of the castle but a quick look at them said they would not do at all. Quite apart from the fact that they have been gutted out and have holes in the walls, they look like they were about to collapse at any moment." Oberyn shrugged. "Mind you, if you plan to have their heads off it might be for the best if I had put them in there."

"We are still not certain what we plan to do with them, thank you Prince Oberyn." Selwyn Tarth answered, sounding for all the world like Ned's own Father one of the many times Brandon or Lya had said something that had embarrassed or infuriated him. "As it stands, I would like to see Lord Grandison, Lord Fell and Lord Cafferen. I do not doubt that they have been well treated, but I have questions for them."

"As do we all, I suspect." A lord whose name Ned could not remember spoke but a dozen other lords took up the call and Oberyn choose to play the generous host today, calling in a servant and commanding him to take the lords to where the hostages were being held. A flood of men left the tent until Oberyn and Ned were the only ones left in the tent.

"So, how is my sister?" Oberyn asked as he picked up an olive from a bowl on the arm rest of the chair and popped into his mouth, chewing on it lazily. "Well and missing me so very terrible, I suspect?"

"She was well, the last time I saw her." Which had been far to long, in Ned's opinion. "She's with child again, I do not know if she informed you. You said ravens, was Elia the one to write to you?"

"Elia. Your Father. The King. Dorne it seems is much desired as of late, I am almost flattered. Of course, much was unknown when we gathered banners but word of a new claimant to the Iron Throne spreads quickly, we were already making for the Boneway as we thought the Stormlands were more likely to align with us. But when we heard that? We knew."

Ned nodded and turned his thoughts on to what to do next, his first thought was that he would need to send word back to Moat Cailin to order them to march, there was no need to hold them back now. Aside from the Conningtons now it seemed that all the Stormlands were with them, they could lay siege to Griffin's Roost and hold the castle.

Jon would come forth from the Vale and Lord Hoster was less certain, but perhaps if he saw all the strength of the North, the Stormlands, The Vale and Dorne all come together he would join the Riverlands to their cause as well. His eldest daughter was still married to Jon's heir after all and Lysa Tully had been as spurned by the Lannisters, who were joined to the royal family as much as one could be, just as Catelyn Tully had been by Brandon.

But then what, were to march? Where to go? Ned wasn't sure at all. He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone came into the tent, Ned turned and saw a Dornishman standing there. He seemed, nervous. "My lords, I am sorry to interrupt you but I...there is a woman outside, she just rode up on horseback. She's Dornish but the horse is not a Sand Steed and I...I wanted to be sure so-

"Can you get on with it? What's wrong with you?" Oberyn said, his tone as venomous as the viper he took his name for.

"My prince, she claims to be your sister. The Princess Elia."

End of Chapter Seventy-Six

Ooooo, the plot thickens, don't you think?

Okay, so the plan was for this chapter to be quite a bit longer but I found that it was a bit awkward and some of it didn't make a lot of sense if I just kept it from Ned's perspective. So, in the very next chapter we are going to swap over to another P.O.V to see the rest of what was planned to be in this chapter.

The chapter after that, well, I won't say much only it's going to take us back to the Vale, to see what's going on over there.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, please consider leaving a review, a follow and a favorite.

With much love,

DiscordantSymphony