AN: So I have to say I really appreciate the support the last chapter, and the whole story as a whole has received, it's brilliant thanks!

But anyway here is the next chapter I hope you all like it, I only wrote it today and so have only read it through once, but I am pretty happy with it. So yeah hope you enjoy it and leave a review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Game of Thrones, as much as I wish I did.

( - )

(Last Time)

Riding into the city, just before the city gates were closed for the night, a small column of silver armoured horsemen, and several richly decorated carriages trundled along the cobblestone streets, their passing catching the attention of both the patrolling Gold Cloaks and watch commonfolk, as they idly watched these obviously wealthy newcomers late entrance into the capital.

All eyes moving to the crest of a golden rose that was flying from the columns flags and emblazoned on the carriages.

To those in the know, it quickly became apparent what this meant. The Tyrells had arrived at King's Landing, no doubt including the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and wife of the King Tytan Baratheon the First of his Name, Margery Tyrell.

( - )

Chapter 17

( - )

(With Tytan, in King's Landing)

Leaning back on the Iron Throne, there was a look of fascination on Tytan's youthful face as he closely watched his new dragon, Ozymandias, scamper across his lap, chasing after Tytan's fingers as he teased the little dragon. One that Tytan had somewhat named on a whim, an old poem he vaguely remembered from his younger years in school providing the inspiration.

Watching on, Tytan's sea green eyes twinkled merrily at the slight cries the green dragon let out as it playfully snapped at Tytan's finger, the small creature barely bigger than a cat, scampering across Tytan's lap with ease, his emerald green eyes carefully tracking his foe, i.e. Tytan's hand.

Chuckling slightly, Tytan then reached behind, the small, scaly-winged creature, before he gently scratched it on the back of the neck, making the dragon let out another cooing sound as it twisted its neck, acting for all the world like an oversized cat as it both enjoyed the neck scratch, and also tried to nip at Tytan's hand.

"And where exactly did you get this… thing again?" The King's mother, Cersei, asked curiously as she looked down at the tiny dragon, a look of both caution and curiosity on her face, as she partially reached out, as if she hoped to touch the mystical creature, only to back down at the last moment just in case it turned feral.

Her emerald green eyes carefully track the winged creature in fascination, as she saw it acting so playfully, nothing like she had imagined a dragon would act, even if it was once a hatchling at the moment.

"I told you before, I got the egg from a rather unscrupulous merchant, quite cheaply too. Though fortunately, that was because they didn't actually know what it was." Tytan replied easily, as he took the sleeve of his leather jerkin out of the dragon's mouth when it began trying to chew on it. His grin widened as he did so, not at all bothered to be showing the dragon off, after all, why on earth would he want to keep it a secret, not that he likely could keep something this big a secret, which would be a literal description in a few years, not in King's Landing anyway, a city with a million eyes.

"And you plan on keeping it?" Cersei asked again, as the blonde haired woman looked down at her son from where she was stood besides the Iron Throne on a raised dais. With Cersei keeping her voice low as she knew that the score of other people in the room were also trying to listen in, including Tytan's personal guards, his Uncle Jamie, his new Grand Maester Qyburn and several other courtiers and servants.

"Obviously," Tytan replied easily as he watched the little dragon curl up on his lap, once again mentally comparing it to a cat, his lips curving upwards at the sheer bizarreness of that comparison, his mind drifting back to the other dragons and drakons he had met during his long life as he did so, none of which he could imagine acting like this. Though that might also have been because most of them were centuries old, if not millennia, and tended to be almost indescribably strong as well "The Targaryen's conquered Westeros when they had dragons, just imagine what I'll do with little Ozymandias?"

"Yes and look at the Targaryen dynasty now." Cersei replied dryly, though she didn't deny the fact that Tytan could do great things if he had a dragon, a literal weapon of war on his side. Seven Hells he was already dangerous enough with his magic and lineage, but add in a dragon, and well the skies were literally the limit. "And are you really sure about the name Ozymandias, it doesn't really sound like a name a dragon would have?"

Tytan smiled in response to that. "And that's because the Targaryens named all the dragons you've heard of, and you just have to read what they named their children to realise how bat shit crazy they were." Tytan's smile faltered slightly as he said that, thinking about his own name as he did so, or at least the one his mother had given him and he had begrudgingly accepted, which quickly made him realise he didn't have much room to talk.

As if sensing what was going through her son's mind, Cersei narrowed her eyes, as if daring Tytan to say anything in regards to his name, one which she had mainly chosen to honour her father, Tywin, and partially her less well-respected grandfather, Tytos.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Tytan asked instead, changing the topic of the conversation as he finished playing with his dragon and looked over to his new Grand Maester, Qyburn, his sea green eyes narrowing as he idly inspected the unusual thin, pale, scraggly looking Maester, one who Tytan had never heard of before Cersei had introduced him.

Despite that though Tytan's mother had vouched for his ability and more importantly his loyalty, and so far the man had done a good job in usurping Varys's spy network and stripping the eunuch of all of his secrets. On top of which he had shown himself capable of assisting Tytan in governing the land in the absence of a Hand of the King, and most of the Small Council.

"Lord Stark is to stand trial for his crimes today, and the traitor Varys, after admitting his guilt is set to be officially sentenced to be executed for treason." Qyburn replied with a humble bow to Tytan, with the Grand Maester having personally handed over the blood speckled, parchment upon which Varys had admitted his guilt and put his signature to, to Tytan.

Tytan nodded at that, absentmindedly stroking the now napping dragon on his lap as he looked away from Qyburn, thinking over the implications of Varys's death, before finding none. Not now they had gained as much Intel from him as they could and tracked down all of his assets that is, including a number of his contacts for his formidable spy network, which in turn had allowed them to usurp it, after all the thing about spying is that it was all cloak and dagger, and often only those at the top knew who was working for whom. "And what else?"

"Robb Stark and a contingent of Northern Nobles have arrived to give their oath of fealty to you. As has your betrothed, Margery Tyrell, and her father and grandmother, though currently, they are boarding in one of their manses in the city." Qyburn continued on, his gaze flickering down to the dragon in Tytan's arms for a moment before he once again met the King's sea-green eyes.

"Good, send word that young Robb Stark is allowed to see his father before his trial, and also send for my younger brother Joffrey, I have business with him before I deal with Lord Stark and Eddard," Tytan replied softly, ignoring the sudden look of concern Cersei sent him at the mention of his brother.

Qyburn bowed in response to Tytan's orders before he turned and left so he could pass them on to some of the servants, leaving both Cersei and Tytan alone on the dais for the moment, with Jamie, Ivar, Ubba, Arthur, Matthias and Luke all standing guard in front of the dais, wearing their usual mail and armour. With Tytan having sent the rest of his Kingsguard, save for Jamie, to protect his three younger siblings.

"What business do you have with Joffrey?" Cersei asked quickly, looking down at her eldest as she did so, with a hint of faint concern in her eyes. After all Tytan and Joffrey had never really gotten along, even when they were much younger. With that in part being likely due to Tytan's more inhuman qualities, like his natural affinity and skill in combat, his unnatural water based powers, and his formidable intellect and knowledge, all of which likely alienated Joffrey and firmly stuck him within his elder sibling's shadow.

"You'll see." Tytan replied simply, before he looked back to Qyburn when he returned. "By the way, do you have any news for me regarding the construction of the Royal fleet, the renovation of the cities defences and Tyrion's canal project?"

"Fifty three ships have now been built and fully rigged your Majesty, and another forty seven are under construction, progress on the construction of the fleet has been swift. As for the cities defences, there is a whole host of carpenters and stonemasons currently working on the defences, and so far it is progressing slowly but steadily, but it'll probably take years before it is fully finished." Qyburn replied, keeping his verbal update simple as he knew that the King would no doubt want to see written records for confirmation.

With the current state of the Small Council having made it so that the King had to take a far more proactive stance in regards to the running of the Kingdom, after all Renly was the only remaining member of the Small Council in the city. Not that Tytan complained about this, in fact Qyburn was quite sure he would have insisted on it either way, with Tytan being far more hands-on and pragmatic than his predecessors, a man of action through and through, but one who had the wisdom to show restraint and patience when necessary.

"The canal system?" Tytan then prompted, after giving Qyburn a nod to tell him to continue.

"Plans have been finished, and your Uncle is currently trying to find additional funding outside of the Crown's treasury to begin work, starting off in the Crownlands, Reach and Westerlands. That being said, he is also trying to recruit skilled workmen, though so far he is struggling to do so. No doubt due to your own projects on the city's walls and a new fleet." Qyburn once again said, summarising the diminutive Lord's difficulties quite succinctly as he did so.

"I see, put out a minor tax on Lord's who are to benefit from the creation of canal, and also make it known that the Crown will match the money raised with gold from the treasury. On top of that try to strong-arm the Faith of the Seven into offering forgiveness for certain sins, in return for free labour, see whether we can rustle anything up." Tytan replied, a slight frown on his face as he thought about the possible benefits from Tyrion's canal system, and the pushback he might receive from introducing a new tax.

"I will see to it. Though it might require an offer of royal favour to convince the High Septon to fulfil your request." Qyburn replied, a slight smile on his face as he took note of the King's commands.

"As long as it's within reason I don't mind, though if he pushes too far, well then I will have no choice but to push back," Tytan replied bluntly, knowing as he did that the corruption of the Faith was a useful tool, but could also be disadvantageous when turned against him. Which was why he had no qualms about crushing it if need be and using his crusade against corruption to increase his popularity amongst the masses. "For now though I would prefer an amicable relationship with the High Septon."

"You should be careful with the Faith, religion inspires fanatics, and fanaticism can be incredibly dangerous," Cersei spoke up carefully, advising Tytan about the dangers of indulging fanaticism or of getting involved in something like people's beliefs, something that people tended to get very passionate about.

The initial reaction to Tytan's' abilities was evidence enough of that until of course, Cersei had created an almost cult of personality around her son, to cement him as Blessed, as opposed to an abomination, or a heretic.

"Noted, but I will not allow myself to be cowed." Tytan shot back, before he once again looked to Qyburn. "Anything else?"

"The Kingdom's spies in the Vale have reported that Lysa Arryn is acting more and more erratic, apparently she has gone as far as to call her banners, and has spent a fortune on hiring mercenaries," Qyburn spoke up, going over the reports he had been sent from some of the Nobles of the Vale, some of the ones who had refused Lysa's calls, and had instead sent word to the capital of their concerns.

"What was that you were saying about fanatics?" Tytan asked dryly as he looked to his mother, before turning back to Qyburn. "Keep an eye on things for the moment, and start recruiting and training more Goldcloaks, we won't act yet, not until we know what she's up to, but we'll monitor the situation. Also send the word out to the Lords of the Stormlands, the Crownlands and the Riverlands, tell them of the potential trouble, and caution them to be ready, but do not act prematurely."

"I'll see to it your Majesty, though recruiting more Goldcloaks will be expensive," Qyburn said, once again taking a note of the King's orders, and already planning out the exact phrasing he would use when passing the King's orders on to the Lords of those Kingdoms.

Tytan hummed at that, before he looked to Qyburn. "Send the completed ships of the Royal fleet out to sea, have them start hunting down pirates and whatnot. Call it training or experience, but send them out and have them bring in some short-term revenue to beef up the treasury a bit."

"As you say, my King, though may I suggest we also hire them out to merchants as protection as well, which will not only improve trade across the Narrow Sea but achieve the same results as hunting down pirates?" Qyburn added on.

"Do it." Tytan nodded, accepting the advice and recognising the wisdom in it. "What else?"

"We have still had no reply from Lord Stannis on Dragonstone, should we send a ship so it can be delivered to him in person, and an answered can thus be demanded?" Qyburn asked after once again making a note of the King's commands.

"Yes, send a minor noble too, in order to add emphasis, someone my Uncle can't ignore or shake off, maybe Ser Beric Dondarrion, or Ser Balon Swann," Tytan added before he paused when he saw the doors to the throne room open, and his younger brother Joffrey enter, the armoured Ser Barristan Selmy marching behind him.

Tytan had requested that the Captain of his Kingsguard keep an eye on his brother, both to keep him out of trouble, and hopefully curb the worst of Joffrey's traits. On top of which Tytan had also requested that Ser Barristan try and impart at least some wisdom to the boy, and try and teach him some decency, or as much as he reasonably could.

"See to it Qyburn." Tytan then said with a nod and wave of his hands, as he now eyed his younger brother, watching carefully as the pale, thin boy approached, his green eyes locked on the dragon on Tytan's lap, before trailing to the golden antlered crown that was currently perched comfortably on Tytan's head, a flash of envy momentarily passing through Joffrey's eyes at the sight of it.

"You called for me?" Joffrey demanded, his high-pitched, shrill voice echoing in the relatively empty throne room as he did so.

"My King," Ivar spoke up dryly from where he was standing just in front of the dais. "You're supposed to call him My King, or your Majesty."

Tytan cocked an amused eyebrow at that, finding it ironic that the generally disrespectful Ivar would say this, as well as the fact that he said anything at all.

"And you're supposed to refer to me as my Prince!" Joffrey snapped back before he looked to where his brother was sitting on the Iron Throne, their mother at his side, a look of concern on her face as she looked between the brothers, ignoring everything else as she instead waited to see what would transpire next.

"Not now Ivar," Tytan spoke up bluntly, waving for his overconfident guard to shut up for the moment. "But yes Joffrey, I called you here to discuss your future."

"My future?" Joffrey replied in confusion, his eyes once again going back to his just as confused mother.

"Yes, for one I am ending your betrothal to Sansa Stark." Tytan began brusquely, raising his hand as he did so and forestalling Joffrey's reply as the pale blonde boy seemed to inflate, his cheeks reddening and a look of indignation on his face. "Furthermore I am sending you away from King's Landing."

"Tytan!" Cersei said, a look of shock on her face as she looked from her eldest to her now nervous looking second eldest.

"Oh calm down it's nothing untoward." Tytan replied bluntly, sending his mother a look which told her to 'calm down'. "No, I received a letter from our grandfather, Lord Tywin. One which 'requested' I release Jamie from his oath as a member of the Kingsguard, and instead let him return to Casterly Rock as his Heir."

Jamie shifted forwards at that, his eyes locking with Tytan's for a moment, before he looked away and over to his sister. The look on his face told Tytan just what Jamie thought of that request.

"I of course said no, a Kingsguard's oath is for life." Tytan continued on, ignoring the ongoing exchange and surprise. "That being said Casterly Rock needs an Heir, and since Renly has made Tommen his Heir, as the Lord of the Stormlands, that means you Joffrey are going to be Tywin's Heir, the future Lord of Casterly Rock."

A look of shock passed across Joffrey's face as he heard that, as too did Cersei and Jamie look surprised. Of course moments later Joffrey's look turned slightly slyer, as he obviously began thinking about what this could mean for him. Not that the younger boy probably had any idea what he was in store for, after all Tywin did not suffer fools, nor would he accept incompetence.

In fact, Tytan knew that Joffrey was likely in store for unimaginable torment as Tywin broke him, and shattered him to pieces, only to rebuild him in a way he found more acceptable. Not that Tytan cared about Joffrey's short-term happiness, as he was mainly doing this to get Joffrey out from under his feet, and away from the Capital, plus if Tywin made a half decent human out of the idiot it would be a success.

Judging from the look on Cersei's face though, his mother at least knew that Joffrey was not going to be having an easy time of it.

"You have a week to prepare yourself. I have already sent word to Tywin. As for ending your betrothal to the Stark girl, well soon enough you will be a Lannister and not a Baratheon, and so it is for Tywin to decide who you will marry." Tytan once again said bluntly, not adding in that he was also doing it for the frail Stark girl's sake. After all the girl seemed weak, and Joffrey was a monster, a match between the two of them would destroy the young Sansa Stark. "Now go and begin your preparations."

Joffrey nodded to that, an uncertain look on his face for a moment before he gave Tytan a short and stiff bow before he turned and left the throne room.

Following on from that, and a few minutes later, Tytan sighed in irritation as more nobles began to enter the throne room, knowing as he did that Ned Stark's 'trial'; would soon be starting and that his day was far from over.

( - )

(A few hours later)

It was a few hours later that found Tytan now sat in his chambers, on a much more comfortable chair, eating a brief lunch, with Robb Stark. Tytan's guards Ivar, Ubba, and Matthias were all standing around the edges of the room.

In all honesty though, despite the tenseness of the situation he was somewhat glad that he had moment of relative peace and quiet, after all the day had been busy so far, as he had had the quick and impromptu trial of Ned Stark, which had barely been a trial, as Ned had simply stated his guilt, and passed on some of the blame to Pycelle, Varys and Baelish, after which he had then announced he was taking the Black, which Tytan had magnanimously accepted.

Following on from this, Tytan had then had Robb Stark and the other Northern Lords all give him their oaths of fealty as one, to show both the solidarity of the North despite the loss of Ned Stark as the Warden, as well as their continued loyalty to the Crown. All of this had been planned hours beforehand in order to give the onlookers the show they wanted, and also to make sure that when word got out about what had happened. It spread the right message to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

There was of course a bit more theatrics and pageantry to it than that, making it far longer than it had needed to be, as the throne room had been filled with spectating nobles, and Ned's son, the new Warden of the North, Robb.

Speaking of which, Tytan drained his wine goblet and eyed the otherwise quiet Lord of Winterfell as he picked at his food, a somewhat awkward silence having sprung up between them over the course of the meal.

"So we've both come a long way since we first met in Winterfell." Tytan finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence as he felt Robb's cold blue eyes shifting up from his plate to instead look at the King.

"Well it was well over eight or nine months ago," Robb replied bluntly, before he let out a sigh. "But yes a lot has happened. My brother woke up and our family was whole again, only for my father to commit treason and take the Black, which means that I now have to take up the Lordship of the North far sooner than I thought I would."

Tytan nodded at that, as he went to refill his goblet. "Yes, it's similar for me, my father dies and I'm made King, and then I have to deal with a conspiracy within my first week of ruling the Seven Kingdoms."

Robb shifted uncomfortably as he heard that.

"I don't blame your father for it Robb, nor do I blame you." Tytan then continued, his sea green eyes locking with Robb's. "Your father was unaware of the snakes that reside in King's Landing, and so was unprepared for their manipulations. The true transgressors were Baelish, Varys and Pycelle, members of the Small Council who made a play for power, and failed. Your father was merely one of their pawns or rather one of their victims."

"And yet he is still being punished." Robb finally said, the slightest hint of coldness entering his voice as he did so.

"He spoke treason in front of the Court, and there was no excusing that, no matter the circumstances." Tytan replied simply, "For the stability of the realm and my rule I had to be decisive, and there are only two punishments for treason."

Robb sighed as he heard that before he nodded. "I can understand that much, I just regret it ever came to this."

"As do I, after all, we might not know each other well, but I do consider you a friend," Tytan replied, taking another sip of his wine as he did so.

Robb paused as he heard that, eyeing Tytan closely as he did so, before he remembered the way the King had helped him when Bran had been injured, a small gesture, but a meaningful one. "It is the same for me."

"I'm glad," Tytan replied with a smile before his smile widened. "On a happier note though, I noticed you brought your Direwolf with you, Greywind wasn't it? Well either way it's a bit bigger than the average pet don't you think?"

"Coming from the one who has a real-life dragon," Robb replied, his lips curving up in a slight smile at the mention of his companion. "Now the story of how that happened is one I would love to hear."

"It's not much of a story if I'm honest, more a stroke of luck that I acquired an egg and was able to hatch it," Tytan replied thinking back on the dragon, Ozymandias, which even now he was keeping in the godswood under the watchful eye of Leaf, not that the score of men he had guarding the entrance to the woods knew that, before he smiled again. "Though I suppose I could exaggerate it a bit."

"Well the best stories always do have a bit of exaggeration in them," Robb replied, thinking back on the old war stories his father, and a few of the older men used to tell him when he was younger.

Tytan grinned as he heard that, before with a brief chuckle he began his story, making it appropriately flamboyant where he could, and almost nothing like the truth.

( - )

(Sometime Later)

A few hours later found Tytan once again in his chambers, watching as the sun started to set. With im having thrown the balcony doors of his room thrown open, after which he had then simply sat back quietly in his seat and contently watched as a few birds flew through the now pink skies, the last light from the sun glimmering rather beautifully off of the distant sea.

It was whilst he was looking off into the distance, lost in the memories of his past, both the good and the bad, that he was distracted by a soft knocking on his door.

Turning his head slightly, Tytan absentmindedly called for them to enter, not as on guard as he usually was, as he trusted his men not to let a potential enemy so much as approach the door, let alone knock on it politely.

A few moments later found a vaguely familiar girl entering the room, one who had long, thick and glossy brown hair, slightly tanned skin, a sinfully curvaceous figure and delicate, beautiful facial features, her large brown, doe like eyes, drawing Tytan in, even as he looked over at the young girl as she approached, her gossamer like dress flowing behind her as she moved.

"Margery," Tytan said pleasantly as he turned and stood up, a smile spreading across his face as he greeted the younger girl, with the two of them, although not being friends, having met before, either at tournaments or the occasional feast. Margery, like many other girls her age had been sent to interact with Tytan by their parents, also so they could try and attract his attention, which could potentially lead to their family being elevated socially, politically and financially through a highly desirable Royal union.

"My King," Margery replied, dipping into a perfect courtesy as she shyly looked away from him for a few moments, before meeting his gaze again, a coy smile now playing around her generous lips.

Tytan smiled at that, not believing the girl's shy facade for a moment. Not through any fault of Margery's though, the girl was good, almost frighteningly so, no doubt due to her grandmother Olenna Tyrell having taught her all she knew. No, instead it was because Tytan was good at reading people, he always had been, easily able to look through people's fake facades, a skill he had learned through bitter experiences in his youth.

"How was your journey? It must have been well over a year since we last met?" Tytan continued as he walked over to Margery, taking her hand when she offered it and brushing his lips against her knuckles, his gaze momentarily trailing over her shoulder when he saw two handmaidens had also entered the room, as well as two Tyrell guardsmen, and Ivar and Ubba.

The handmaidens no doubt being present to ensure nothing untoward happened, after all despite having calmed down a lot in recent years, Tytan still held something of a reputation when it came to drinking and women, one which would have made his father proud. Which of course Tytan knew made his disdain of the man rather hypocritical, then again Tytan wasn't married at the time and didn't have a family, unlike Robert, the King. That being said looking back at it his actions, he knew he wasn't perfect, and was as flawed as any god or human.

"The journey was long, but I am truly glad to be back in King's Landing, the city is looking more beautiful than ever!" Margery replied kindly, a smile on her face as Tytan released her hand. "In fact the last time I was here, was during your seventeenth name-day tournament, back when you won the day and named me your Queen of Beauty."

"A title you deserve as much now as you did then," Tytan replied, vaguely remembering the event she spoke of as he did so, a slight smile spreading across his face as he remembered how drunk and raucous he and his companions had been later that night.

Margery's smile widened at that, before she looped her hand through Tytan's arm, the two of them slowly making their way over to the balcony so they could watch the setting sun together, all under the watchful eyes of Margery's giggling handmaidens.

"I have to say I was somewhat disappointed that you did not greet me sooner," Margery said lightly as the two of them came to a stop on the balcony, looking out over the city of King's Landing as they did so.

"Yes, unfortunately though I have been very busy today, what with the trial of Ned Stark and my meeting with his son, Robb," Tytan replied carefully, looking over at Margery as he did, and admiring how beautiful she was. Though it was a different kind of beautiful to Leaf. As where Leaf had an inhuman elegance and grace, Margery's beauty was a little more down to earth, and not as intimidating.

"Yes I watched, it was the best end to a bad situation, or at least the best one could reasonably hope for," Margery replied carefully.

"I did not see you in the crowd?" Tytan said simply, a curious look on his face now as he processed her words.

"As you say you had other things on your mind. But now though, well, now I hope your schedule is freer, after all my father tells me that we are betrothed and soon to marry." Margery responded with a smile, looking closely at Tytan now as if hoping to analyse him and get more out of him than he was obviously willing to say. "I thought it best that we at least get to know each other a little better before that happens."

"Yes, going forwards I hope to spend a lot more time with you Margery, because as you say we are to marry, and I would have our union be a good one, one based on love and respect." Tytan said with a smile, his sea green eyes flickering back to the softly smiling Margery again, telling her what was expected of him, and knowing as he did so, that he had been the one who suggested this union, all so he could secure the Tyrell's loyalty and support, which in turn allowed him to strengthen his position as King.

( - )

(Elsewhere in the Red Keep)

It was as Tytan was meeting Margery in his chambers that his loyal men were going about other, less pleasant tasks. Ivar was still clad in his chain mail and armour as he marched through the corridors leading to the Black Cells, a bored look on his face as he unsheathed a long knife from his hip and slowly opened the door to one of the cells.

"What is it you want?" Viserys rasped out from where he was still chained to the wall, his madly gleaming eyes glaring up at his latest visitor through the curtain of lank silvery blonde hair that covered his face.

"Or has your craven master finally decided to have me killed?" Viserys then continued, trying not to show his fear as he eyed Ivar's knife fearfully.

"Hmm?" Ivar hummed, before he looked down at his knife and grinned. "Oh no this isn't for you, you don't have to worry about getting your throat slit or anything like that." With that said Ivar then raised his other hand, revealing a large, bright red apple. "No this is for my supper, I've been busy guarding Tytan all day and didn't get around to eating much."

Grinning again when he saw the look of confusion on Viserys's face, Ivar then began to peel the skin off the apple, his demeanour still pleasant as he strolled into the prison cell and closed the door behind him with his booted foot.

"What do you want?" Viserys asked again, the fatigue in his voice clear to hear now.

In response Ivar let the skin from his apple fall to the ground, before he then took a bite of it, absentmindedly wiping his blade on his leather breeches as he did so before he then sheathed it.

"Well…" Ivar began through a mouthful of mulched-up apple, sending the disgusted Viserys a grin as he did so. "I'm here to free you of course. I mean you aren't doing much good down here in the cells are you?"

Viserys shifted around as he heard that, his chains rattling loudly, and the red raw flesh of his wrists becoming more irritated as he struggled slightly. "What are you going to do with me?"

Finishing the apple, core and all, Ivar sent Viserys another wide grin. "You'll see, but trust me, it's going to be good!"

( - )

AN: So what do you all think? I hope you enjoyed it and leave a review!

That being said I've noticed that there has been a lot of politics and conversation in the last few chapters, which although is important, does get a bit tiring at times. Which is why I am looking forward to writing some more action scenes.

Plus there have recently been some questions raised about the enemies in this story. Which is always what I find to be one of the most interesting things about stories set in times like these, as they involve multiple factions, some based on religion like the Sparrows and the Religion of R'Hllor, whilst some are based on familial connections, or upon different ideologies such as royalists and nobles who want to decentralise power. On top of that you have cultural factions and mystical factions. So yeah, questions about enemies in a story like the one I envisage is quite difficult, as there are masses of factions which are in constant flux, with purposes crossing over and members changing sides, or losing prominence. So yeah, nonsensical rambling aside, I am afraid a question about who the main enemy or antagonists are is generally quite a difficult story to answer. Save for the obvious answer the undead legions slowly wandering south.

But anyway, sorry for that I am not sure if it makes sense.

Other than that I hope you liked the chapter, there is some important things mentioned within it, so yeah thanks for reading an I'll see you later.

Greed720.