AN: Hey all, so it feels like it has been a while for this story, but really it hasn't been that long. Either way here I am with a new chapter, I hope you all enjoy it and leave a review.

Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Game of Thrones.

( - )

(Last Time)

Robb's lips twitched upwards in amusement at Tytan's not so subtle implication, before he rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to match me with your sister?"

"It's a possibility, one which, so long the two of you were happy, I wouldn't be against." Tytan replied with a shrug, knowing as he did that his sister, although young, did have a crush on Robb, and also that they would only be married when she was of age. "Just think it over as a possibility."

Robb nodded at that, before moments later the two broke apart.

"Have a good journey north Robb, and try not to miss me too much." Tytan then said as Robb turned and around and mounted his horse.

Robb nodded at that. "Rule well King Tytan."

( - )

Chapter 20

( - )

(In King's Landing, the Red Keep)

Taking a sip of wine from his goblet, Tytan's half lidded eyes surveyed those present in the large, Small Council chamber before him. His gaze moving slowly over the assembled members of his new Small Council, and the people that he would be using to run certain aspects of his kingdom for him, relieving some of the pressure on him and allowing him to do other things.

Slowly his green eyes moved from the primly sitting Olenna Tyrell, who sat their drinking her tea, doing the same thing as Tytan as her sharp gaze moved around the room and over the other members of the Small Council, aside from the King of course. The older woman in question, having taken the position as Master of Coin, for the moment at least. After all the Tyrell's were a fabulously wealthy House, and had been that way for many centuries now for a reason. They were shrewd with their finances, and clever with their investments. Tytan could only hope Olenna, the sharp and intelligent woman that she was, had picked up some of these traits.

Next to Olenna there was an older looking blonde man, with slightly greying hair, angular facial features, blueish green eyes, and a slightly portly build. This was Kevan Lannister, Tywin Lannister's younger brother, and so Tytan's Uncle.

Despite the man having only just recently arrived in the Capital, he had already been elevated to the Small Council, due in part to nepotism of course, but also because the man was capable enough at carrying out his duties, plus after having grown up with Tywin he was also likely used to dealing with backstabbing snakes.

Which is why Kevan had been named as Hand of the King, a reasonable enough appointment, and one that Tytan was content with for now. After all, the man was not stupid, he had a good head on his shoulders. On top of which he was loyal to his family, a trait Tytan liked, and one that would ensure he didn't betray his trust.

After Kevan there was then Renly Baratheon, Tytan's Uncle, the old and current Master of Laws, who even now was looking bored. Not that that really bothered Tytan, the man was here for token reasons, he was here to ensure Tytan could keep an eye on him, and to make sure the Stormlands remained tightly bound to the Crown. The man's general disinterest in his duties, was also not a problem as Tytan himself had happily assumed those duties back when Robert had been alive, and would continue to do so.

Sitting on the opposite side of the table to Renly, there was then Maester Qyburn, a sallow faced man, with thinning grey hair, long fingered hands and clever, pale blue eyes. He had been appointed to the positon of Master of Whispers, and had also assumed Pycelle's old duties on the Small Council.

As far as Tytan considered him, the man was decent enough, if a little creepy at times. He had been a recommendation from Cersei and had thus far proved himself very useful, loyal and competent. All of which were highly desirable traits. Which is also why Tytan had appointed him to his current position, plus the man had already assumed both Varys's and Baelish's old spy networks, managing and combing both to extend his eyes and ears across both Westeros and Essos.

Taking another sip of wine, Tytan's gaze moved over to the last seat in the room, the empty one, the one that was set aside for the Master of Ships.

Originally, during the reign of Robert, the position had belonged to Stannis Baratheon, only for the man to have been stripped of the position by the new King when he didn't come to the court as ordered and swear fealty.

In fact Stannis had been ignoring all the messages Tytan had been sending to Dragonstone by raven, which had annoyed the new King to the point at which he had sent one of his men to Dragonstone to deliver the message in person. After all Tytan was of the opinion that something was not right, the Stannis he knew was obsessive in carrying out his duties, he did not shirk them, nor did he hide away in his castle.

It was just a pity that neither Varys nor Baelish had managed to get an agent into the castle. With Stannis having banned brothels from the island early on in his lordship of the island, and the nature of the island not lending itself to the climate in which street urchins, like the ones Varys had tended to use, were suited. On top of which Stannis was savvy enough to take advantage of benefits of his island fortress to ensure no one spied on him.

It was admirable, but currently it was damn annoying.

Not that Tytan let it bother him too unduly, the man no longer held the Seat of Master of Ships, with Tytan having assumed control of the responsibilities for that too. Or at least he had for the moment, until he found someone he deemed suitable enough to take on the positon. Someone who understood ships, and naval tactics, someone who could impress even Tytan, the former son of a sea god. So far he was thinking of maybe bringing in an Iron Born, one who wasn't absolute scum that is. Or perhaps a Redwyne, he was yet to make up his mind.

So far though the appointed members of his Small Council were working out well. Things were running smoothly, and Tytan had managed to cast off a lot of responsibilities, allowing him more time to spend with Leaf and Ozymandias, or with Margery, or even occasionally with his sister Myrcella.

In fact he had been in the midst of walking through the city with Margery when the meeting he was currently in had been called by Qyburn. Something which Tytan had grudgingly accepted to attend, with him first escorting Margery back to the Keep with both of their guards following after him.

"So is there a reason for the abrupt meeting?" Tytan asked easily, as he took another sip of his wine, starting off the meeting as he did so.

"Yes my King," Qyburn replied instantly, his gaze fixed on Tytan to the exclusion of all else. "We received a message from the men you sent to Dragonstone."

"And?" Tytan asked, sitting up straighter in his seat now.

"It's empty, the fortress has been abandoned, and the fleet that was based there is missing. Stannis it appears has gone. Your men spoke to some Smallfolk that had remained behind, and apparently Stannis left several weeks ago, moving in secret and taking all those loyal to him with him, as well as more than a score of the Kingdom's ships, both warships and trade ships." Qyburn said uncomfortably, hating the fact that this had happened and he hadn't known about it.

"How are we just finding this out now?" Tytan asked with forced calm. "How could he have made such a large move without anyone noticing?"

"Alas my King we had no contacts on the island, and the retainers Stannis did leave behind, those who refused to come, the prominent ones, they were all killed, their throats slit and their bodies burned." Qyburn continued, looking around the room as he did so, even as he finished passing on the dire news.

"That sounds out of character for my brother." Renly spoke up bluntly.

"Yes, Stannis might have been a humourless man, and far too serious, but he was not a butcher. Nor was he the type who would turn his back on his Kingdom." Olenna pitched in, adding her own opinion on the news to the discussion.

"It does seem odd." Kevan Lannister said slowly, before he looked to his nephew. "But Stannis has been stewing in discontent for many years now, ever since your father, Robert, snubbed him by naming Renly Lord of the Stormlands, and Stannis as merely the Lord of Dragonstone."

"Well that was the reason why he was always so grim, that and his disfigured daughter too, but if he didn't rebel when Robert was King and was running the Kingdom into the ground, then I doubt he would have done it when Tytan took power." Olenna replied her gaze sharp.

"Unless he thought he could take advantage of the instability a new ruler often brings, even if only temporarily. After all when King Tytan took power he locked King's Landing down, allowing no entry in or out for several weeks. This caused disruption, which could have given Stannis the opportunity he was waiting for." Qyburn replied carefully, before he looked to Tytan. "Not that your decision was bad my King, what with Varys, Baelish and Pycelle having tried to implement a 'coup', it was a wise decision."

"But why would Stannis flee?" Tytan asked into the silence that followed this statement, still trying to come to terms with what had happened. "Sure we were never friendly, but we weren't antagonistic either. As Renly said, this entire thing is very out of character for Stannis."

"Indeed your Majesty. However before all of this happened, news had already reached the Capital of Stannis's conversion to the worship of R'Hllor. Rumour also had it that a High Priestess of R'Hllor had also taken up residence at Dragonstone." Qyburn replied slowly. "I cannot profess to know a huge amount about the religion or its priestess but I do know it is a vicious faith, one that is very popular in Essos."

"So you think Stannis found religion, and that's why he left. What you think this is him doing a pilgrimage?" Renly asked loudly, his tone mocking.

"No, I see Qyburn's point." Tytan cut in sharply. "Religions tend to inspire fanatics, and some of those same fanatics could have the charisma and the will to manipulate and inspire others. Its possible Stannis has been manipulated, or has become a fanatic himself. This priestess probably played on his discontent, his desire for more and used it."

"But to what end?" Olenna asked sharply, her gaze locked on Tytan. "Why would he flee, what does he gain by giving up his land and fortress and having himself painted as a traitor."

"I'm not sure." Tytan muttered, before he paused. "Unless he is going to Essos to recruit allies. The Targaryen girl still dwells there after all, and is married to a Dothraki Khal, one with an army of nearly forty thousand at his back."

"You think Stannis is going to help some Targaryen bint? For what reason? The girl could have a million Dothraki horsemen, but she'll never get them over the Narrow Sea, everyone knows that the Dothraki fear the 'poison water' as they call it." Olenna replied dismissively, revealing her knowledge of the Dothraki culture as she did, even as she dismissed the possible threat.

"Who knows what poison that priestess has been whispering in Stannis's ear?" Tytan shrugged, latching onto the possibility that Stannis was manipulated as he did so. "And if she can manipulate someone as strong willed as Stannis, surely she can do the same with the Targaryen girl and her husband?"

"I doubt it my King, as that was another thing I wanted to discuss." Qyburn spoke up. "Khal Drogo is dead, taken an infected wound, and his Khalasar has since dispersed. As for the Targaryen girl, she's gone missing."

"Well there we go then, problem solved and we didn't have to raise a finger." Renly spoke up cheerfully.

"Maybe," Tytan muttered, before he came to a decision. "Qyburn I want you to find out where Stannis is and why he betrayed the Kingdom, and what his plans are. On top of that I want to know the location of the Targaryen girl. Bring me news."

"Your Majesty." Qyburn replied with a bow, before he wrote a few notes for himself on the ledger in front of him.

"Kevan, I want Dragonstone garrisoned, send four hundred men under the command of someone loyal to the crown. Also have work begin on expanding the docks. With Stannis gone I am going to claim the island for the Crown and use it as Royal Navies new port." Tytan continued, looking to Kevan now, who just nodded in reply.

Pausing for a moment at that thought, Tytan then looked up at Kevan again. "Also I want you to send a garrison to Harrenhal as well. The fortress has been empty for far too long, and with the last of the Whents dead, and no clear heir I am taking it for the Crown. Olenna I want you to see to it that the taxes are redirected into the Kingdoms coffers. Kevan I want you to move a thousand of my Goldcloaks to the fortress, I will talk to Ser Beric myself about excelling his recruitment and training of new Goldcloaks."

Kevan paused at that, but then nodded again, writing some notes into his own ledger as he did so. "I will see to it. The Tully's may complain, but you are well within your rights your majesty."

"A good enough idea, I will see to the taxes, and will also send word to my son and have some of the Reach's surplus grain and food sent over to Harrenhal. Free of charge for the moment." Olenna tagged on her lips quirking upwards. "As for the Tully's, they are little more than toothless fish. Hoster Tully will whine, but nothing more. Besides having a strong military presences in the Riverlands will be good. It'll protect the Kingdom's main trade routes."

"On that note I want you to increase the funding sent to Beric, my new Goldcloaks will need training, feeding, outfitting and paying. Use as much of the money we gain from Harrenhal as you think you need." Tytan continued, trusting the Tyrell matriarch as he did so.

"You know nephew, with the way you're talking it makes it seem like you are preparing for war." Renly suddenly said, no doubt feeling a little left out of the conversation now.

"Well of course he is, only a buffoon wouldn't prepare for the worst." Olenna replied sharply on Tytan's behalf.

Renly scowled at that, but didn't reply.

"I will go over the rest of the logistics with each of you individually." Tytan spoke up next, his gaze shifting over to Renly as he did so, before moving to the table at large, all of whom nodded. "Though Renly's comments do bring me onto another matter I wished to discuss. Lysa Arryn and the Vale."

"Ahh yes the shrill bitch." Olenna commented dryly. "Is she still causing trouble?"

"Yes, and it seems my marshalling my forces on her border have not made her back down." Tytan said with a slight sigh.

"Considering how unstable she is, maybe that's not a surprise." Olenna scoffed.

"Qyburn do you have any news for me in regards to Lysa?" Tytan asked, ignoring Olenna's comment as he instead looked to his Maester.

"The Lords of the Vale are all still refusing to rise up, in fact there is a growing bubble of discontent and talk of removing Lysa from her position. In fact I think it is only the goodwill the Lord's still have for her late husband's memory that is keeping her in power." Qyburn replied easily, flipping through his ledger as he looked for the notes he had on this particular situation.

"So they're not about to support her if she rebels?" Tytan asked.

"I highly doubt it. Maybe one of the younger and more impetuous Lords will, but none of the powerful ones. No, the only issues you may have are sellswords she still has in her employ, and the Eyrie's impregnable defences." Qyburn replied after a few moments of checking his notes.

"Good, because I think I've let this situation go on for too long." Tytan spoke up resolutely, draining the wine from his goblet as he did so. "It's time I end Lysa's control over the Vale and put someone more suitable in her seat, maybe Lord Royce, he'd make a good Warden of the East. It'll send a message to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms and will open up the Vale once again."

The other members of the Small Council looked at one another as they heard that.

"You will need a plausible reason for doing that my King. Otherwise such an action could be seen as unpalatable by many of the other Lords." Kevan spoke up carefully, looking to Tytan warily as he did so.

"The fact that she is gathering her forces and hiring sellswords, has refused to bend the knee and has blocked off the Vale is reason enough. Though if more is required, then I will have Qyburn manipulate the facts and spread it around that she has declared open rebellion against the Kingdom." Tytan replied sharply. "After all that is what she is already on the verge of doing. Plus I have evidence from Baelish's own mouth that Lysa was culpable in the death of Jon Arryn."

"That could work, if we spread that ahead of time it will undermine her positon in the Vale and would also encourage the Vale Lords to come to your banner when you march on the Eyrie." Qyburn said with a nod.

The other members of the Small Council nodded at that, even as they muttered about the best ways to portray the upcoming invasion of the Vale and dismantling of House Arryn, as well as which Lords would be best to call on to supply forces, the list including a select few Vale Lords, and some Westerland, Stormland and Crownland Lords. That was until Kevan asked a question of Tytan that garnered all of their attention.

"An important question my King is who will lead the army? Lord Randyl Tarly is a very skilled commander, and your grandfather Tywin has many victories to his name?" Kevan asked easily, settling into his roll of Hand now as he and the rest of the Small Council slowly built up their rapport.

"Neither, for I will be leading the army personally." Tytan replied bluntly, his tone brooking no arguement.

Not that that stopped the other Small Council members from speaking their minds.

"But Tytan, you are still young and inexperienced. You maybe more than skilled with a blade, and possess powers beyond those of normal men, but leading an army is no easy task." Kevan objected.

"I think I'll manage." Tytan replied tightly, before he looked around at that others. "I will not be some Targaryen King, hiding away in my palace and letting others do my fighting. Instead I will be a Warrior King and will lead my men on the battlefield. I have these abilities for a reason, and I will use them to crush my enemies and protect those loyal to me. This is not a negotiation I will lead the army, I will of course listen to the advice of the other Lords with me, but I will lead, and I will have the final say!"

Tytan's tone was very sharp now, his words pointed as he locked eyes with Kevan. He was not some mewling boy, he was a warrior, a former Demigod, and he had centuries on the men around him. He would not stay in the Capital playing around with politics, not when there was a fight to be had.

On top of that he would use this situation to prove himself, and show what type of a King he was going to be. This was a chance for him to win himself acclaim as a military leader, and as more than just a tournament fighter. More than that it would also give him an opportunity to let loose with his strengthening abilities, and prove to all and sundry his right to rule.

"As you say my King." Kevan said after a few moments, giving Tytan a slight bow as he did so.

( - )

(In Dorne)

Standing against the stone balcony of his room, overlooking the barren, dry landscape of Dorne. Viserys couldn't help but gnash his teeth in frustration. The Tower of Joy that was where he was currently staying, a simple small squat building made out of reddish stone, on the northern edge of the Red Mountains.

It was not exactly an uncomfortable place to stay, as he had stayed in much worse when he had been in Essos, and it was a much better than the Black Dungeons. But even so it was not Sunspear the capital of Dorne, in fact that city was many leagues from here.

Viserys's aristocratic face twisted into a snarl at that thought. He was not allowed to go to Sunspear, his group had been stopped a few miles from the city by a troop of Dornish soldiers, led by one of the Princes of Dorne, Oberyn Martel. After which they had been told they could not enter the city, due to the possibility of spies, with them instead being directed here to this desolate tower.

Spitting over the side of the balcony, Viserys could see some of his soldiers down below. Four of them were currently walking around the perimeter of the tower, wearing just their chainmail and carrying their shields and sheathed swords, the heat having caused them to divest themselves of the rest of their equipment. Even so despite the heat of the day they were still keeping watch, looking out for any trouble.

It had been a few days now since they had gotten here, and there was literally nothing to do, there was nothing around for miles, and the room he was in was sparse, with it just having an old, wooden framed bed and some dusty furniture.

According to his loyal servant, Ivar, the place had been abandoned for years now. It had at one point been one of the homes of Viserys's brother, Rhaegar, but had obviously not been used much since he had been butchered by Robert Baratheon.

Viserys let out another petulant sigh at that, before he turned from the windows and left his chambers, storming through the narrow, dusty halls of the tower as he instead headed for the main hall, the place he knew Ivar and most of the other men were lolling about, drinking, gambling and singing. Wasting their time, as they waited for something to happen.

"Ah King Viserys! Finally come down from your tower to join us common soldiers in a singalong!?"Ivar said loudly from where he was holding court, a cup of wine in his hand and a leg of some kind of meat, probably goat, in his other hand as he looked over to Viserys.

"No." Viserys bit out, his violet gaze looking over the blonde haired, blue eyed cutthroat, noting how he like the rest of his men had thrown off his black cloak, plate armour and chainmail, as he instead wore a simple tunic and leather breeches. "What I am here to do, is to find out why in seven hells we are still here rotting away in this tower?!"

Ivar smiled at that, his blue eyes flashing with amusement as he drank from his wine goblet, before sending the white haired boy a cool look. "We are here, because Prince Oberyn asked us too. He wants to meet with us, but he doesn't want to risk doing it in Sunspear or one of the larger cites or castles in Dorne, due to the possibility of spies. We are here, because we are waiting for that goat fucker to get here, so we can start making alliance and building you an army, your highness…"

Viserys grit his teeth at that, but still nodded. "Well can't you send him a raven, tell him to hurry up."

"Because a raven will magically be able to find him…" Ivar replied dryly, before he shook his head. "Patience my King, that is all we need, patience. Oberyn will come, and when he does we can start building you a support base."

"Yes, well, fine!" Viserys snapped, before he turned and stormed out of the stone chamber.

"Little shit." One of Ivar's men grumbled as the white haired boy stormed away in a huff. "I swear if he demands I empty his piss bucket or bring him food again, I'm going to shove my foot up his fucking arse!"

"This had all better be worth it!" Another one of Ivar's men tagged on, looking to their smirking leader as he did so.

"It will, trust me. This will all work out in the end lads." Ivar replied soothingly, looking around at all the men he and Viserys, mostly him though, hand recruited since he freed Viserys. "And I'm talking riches, boys! That and castles, and titles, and women! Trust me lads, we stick it out with that jumped up shit and he'll make us all as rich and fat as even that bloated cunt, Mace Tyrell!"

The men cheered at that, some of them sloshing their wine in enthusiasm, hopeful that this venture would be a profitable one. After all there was a lot of risk behind it, as they were going up against King Tytan the Blessed, a brutal, ruthless and deadly ruler, and one with a large support base and at least four of the Seven Kingdoms in full support of him. Still with the big risk, hopefully came a big reward.

( - )

(In Essos)

Letting out a sigh of content, Daenerys for the first time in a while was enjoying herself. Especially now that her and her small group of Dothraki had gotten out of the Red Wastes and escaped the threat of starvation and dehydration. With them instead being safely hidden away behind the thick, and tall walls of Qarth.

Initially when the Thirteen, the ruling council of the mighty, wealthy city, had heard of her small Khalasar standing at their gates they had not been all that impressed. After all they numbered not even a hundred, and about a third of them were women or children, they were hardly a threat to the vast city and its small, but effective army.

In fact initially they hadn't even bothered to meet them in person or let them into the city, instead just telling their guards to wave them away. Or at least they had not, until they became aware of the two dragons that she had in her possession as well as Daenerys's name and thus her pedigree as one of the last Targaryen's.

After which all thirteen member of the Thirteen, their entourages and guards had come out to see Daenerys Targaryen and her small Khalasar, as well as her two dragons. After all dragons were a rarity, in fact they were considered all but extinct, and more than worth the effort of coming out to look and see.

Following on from which, after much talking and debating outside of the walls of Qarth, including Daenerys trying to throw her name about, she along with her Khalasar had eventually been given entry into the city, and were even offered free board at the residence of one of the Thirteen.

The man in question being a large, black skinned man named Xaro, who according to himself was the one of the richest merchants in all of Qarth, as well as a member of the Thirteen. With him also being the one who spoke up in Daenerys's favour, allowing her entry, and taking on the responsibility for her actions whilst she was within Qarth.

Suffice to say the man had been very kind to her, he had housed her Khalasar within the servant quarters of his estate and had invited Daenerys, her dragons and two of her hand maidens into his manse and given them beautiful rooms, and Daenerys herself a flowing dress made of some kind of gossamer fabric.

"Again, I can't thank you enough for all of your kindness." Daenerys said softly, as she sat back on one of his luxurious sofas, a soft smile on her face as for what felt like the first time in an age she felt clean, comfortable and safe.

"No thanks is needed, it is the least I can do for the Mother of Dragons." Xaro replied in a deep, rich voice, a kind smile on his large, round face.

Daenerys smiled again at that.

"After all your children truly are a rarity, in fact they are two of only three living dragons in the known world." Xaro replied with a large grin as his dark eyes shifted from the small, petit Daenerys and instead over to the wooden cage she was keeping her two children, Drogon the one with black scales and red markings and the large of the duo, and Rhaegal his smaller red scaled brother.

"Three!" Daenerys asked sharply, her violet eyes flicking up to Xaro now, her mind wandering back to her traitorous, murderous brother, and his theft of the green dragon egg.

"Yes," Xaro replied calmly, his smile fading slightly at her tone of voice. "Three, your two here, and the King of Westeros, Tytan Baratheon's dragon, Ozymandias."

"He's not the King!" Daenerys said abruptly, her eyes flashing at the thought of the usurper's son, the man sitting in her throne, before her rational mind caught up to her as she saw Xaro's eyes harden, "I apologise for my tone, I meant no offense. I just still feel quite bit of resentment to the Baratheon's is all."

Xaro's expression became warmer as he heard that, even as he waved her words away. "Worry not, I took no offense. But yes Tytan Baratheon also own a dragon, and has done for a number of months now, longer in fact than you."

Daenerys's expression tightened as she processed that, before she let out a sigh. "Then he has stolen one of my dragons from me, just as he stole my throne."

"Stole?" Xaro queried lightly.

"Yes, my brother Viserys stole one of my three dragon eggs from me several months ago, and fatally wounded one of my closest friends and advisers, after which he vanished, fleeing from my husband, Drogo's vengeance. Obviously he did not flee far enough, as Tytan Baratheon must have found him." Daenerys explained for Xaro's benefit, feeling oddly numb at the realisation that her abusive older brother must obviously be dead, otherwise how else did Tytan get the egg.

"I see." Xaro said with a nod. "What will you do about it?"

"I will take my child back from him, just like I will take my throne." Daenerys replied brusquely, looking up at Xaro now, her violet eyes filled with fiery determination.

Xaro's lips twitched upwards as he heard that, before he nodded. "Well to do that you'll need some help."

( - )

(In the seas approaching Essos)

"My Lord we are here." Davos said as he walked over to Stannis, his gaze travelling over his middle aged Lord as he looked out over the sea and over at the horizon, the red haired witch, Melisandre standing at his side. "We have arrived at Qarth."

"Good, ready the men. We'll dock up the flagship at their port. I want you Davos to move the rest of the fleet and find a sheltered cove further down the coast, you will have command until I return." Stannis said brusquely as he turned to look at the onion knight.

"Are you sure you don't wan…" Davos began to say, his gaze flicking over to Melisandre for a moment, only to be cut off by Stannis.

"No, you will not be needed. Instead you are to safeguard the fleet, and look after my wife and child, those are your duties. Lady Melisandre and I will head into the city." Stannis replied, his tone much firmer now.

"As you say." Davos replied with a bow, before he turned to head off and get some men and a rowing boat so that he could head over to one of the other ships and begin moving them down the coast, as per his Lord's orders.

"So we are finally here." Stannis muttered, watching Davos go for a moment, before he then turned to look at the massive port city of Qarth.

"Yes, and by the Lord of Light's we will find the aid we require and forge the alliances we will need to purge the servants of the Dark One from Westeros." Melisandre replied passionately gripping Stannis hands as she did so, before she then laid a hot kiss on his thin lips. "And then we can prepare for the Long Night, my Azor Ahai."

Stannis nodded at that, his gaze firm and resolve unshakeable, even as his lips curled upwards into a smirk.

( - )

AN: So what did you all think? I hope you enjoyed it. It took me a couple of hours to write and I've only had one chance to go through it, so I hope it's fine?

Other than that though I've not really got much else to say other than the plot is progressing, and there will be some cool action coming up soon, as well as more political machinations as this complex tapestry I weave continues to twist and turn. And that's not considering the things going on in the north, and I am going to need a POV to cover some of the events, including Ned Stark at the Wall and Robb Stark as the new lord.

So yeah, other than that I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and leave a review!

Thanks for reading and I'll catch you later.

Greed720.