New Alliances

"You will take your brother's place."

Hoster Tully had said those words when Ned had arrived in Riverrun at the head of the Northern army, but he had heard them for weeks before that. He had heard them when the ravens had arrived to tell of madness, and he heard them every time people said Lord Stark expecting him to answer.

It scared him half to death.

A wife he barely knew and a lordship he was not taught to manage, suddenly thrust on his shoulders and threatening to make his knees buckle.

It had been meant for Brandon, all of it. Ned had known that since he was a child.

Perhaps he would have been given some keep in the North in the future, with enough land to support a family and a few score men. Maybe Brandon would have made him his right-hand man, to stand as advisor and confidant once he had assumed his position as lord in his own right. He had even harboured thoughts of becoming the Knight of the Bloody Gate.

A good post. A proud post. Well respected and honourable, and more than appropriate for a second son.

Now he was here instead, ready to leave Riverrun after his wedding to go east, forced into his brother's place. The new Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and in rebellion against the Mad King.

Riverrun's weirwood was a slender tree and the face carved into the bark was one of sadness, though unlike the solemn melancholy of the tree at home in Winterfell. Still, he was grateful for the comfort of his gods, with the opportunity to enjoy it so rare below the Neck.

The fading morning was pleasant in the walled garden, leaves rustling in a stray breeze as Ned stood to his feet with a final calming breath. It was past time he headed out. A few others that had taken the same opportunity were already leaving.

One last lingering look at the crimson sap bleeding from the carved eyes and mouth and he turned away and walked towards the entrance, leaving his doubts behind.

At the gate, he was met with his newly wed wife. Catelyn was coming from her late-mother's gardens, where a sandstone building housed Riverrun's sept, and most likely she had only just finished prayers of her own.

Her gown was a rich blue accented in white and grey and the cloak she wore was pinned with a silver direwolf, a trinket he had gifted her to mask some of the awkwardness he felt at marrying a woman he barely knew. Well-combed auburn locks were pulled over her right shoulder and her lips adopted a hesitant smile when she saw him.

"My lady," Ned said and inclined his head in greeting.

"My lord," she returned, her voice soft in the air, and curtsied, always observing the proper courtesies.

After that they remained in silence, her pretty blue eyes focused on his face. Ned wished he knew what to say, but even though they were wedded and bedded, and if they were fortunate might have made a child in these few days together, he did not truly know this woman standing across from him.

Brandon had spent weeks in the Riverlands, to get to know her and her family, and to make friends among the Riverlords, but he had not.

"I hope your morning has been pleasant."

"It has been," Catelyn answered, hands folded in front of her. After a moment, she added, "I hope you could find some peace in our godswood, even if it cannot compare to the one in Winterfell."

For a moment he wondered how much Brandon had told her about his, their, home already. "To have a proper heart tree to pray at was already a comfort all its own. During my time in the Vale that was not a guarantee either. The size of the godswood is not the important part in the end."

Catelyn nodded her head in acceptance, hands rising so that she could run long fingers through her hair in a gesture he thought quite charming.

Squaring his shoulders, Ned decided to use this opportunity.

"After I ride east today it may be some time until we see each other again," he began. "I would see justice done for my father and brother and the men that accompanied them, and then find my sister, wherever she is, but many things might happen in that time. Victory or defeat, I intend to return to my home eventually."

"I am not my brother, and I would not attempt to replace him, but…." Ned forged on, the pain still a dull throb in his chest, all these weeks later. "Duty brought us together and binds us now, but I would not have us be strangers beyond that, afterwards."

"I would not have that be the case either," Catelyn said softly, her words a weight off his heart. He would have disliked parting with her on uncertain terms.

"Good. I'm glad." Ned tried for a smile, in an effort to remove the vestiges of stilted reservation that still remained in the air. Glancing at the sun, he judged it to be past time that he met with the men he had brought to Winterfell, so that they might make good distance on the River Road today.

Meeting her blue eyes again, he inclined his head. "I must be going, now."

Catelyn held his gaze, her blue eyes never straying from his grey ones. "I will pray for your safety, and that you might return victorious."

"I'm grateful," Ned said, for a lack of any other response. Those were not his gods, but he did appreciate her gesture, nonetheless. Before any more could be said between them, or he could fully turn to leave, a nearby commotion attracted their attention.

A man was hurrying in their direction, a man displaying the black battle axe of Cerwyn. Ned recognised him for Lord Cerwyn's right hand man as he drew closer.

"Lord Stark!" the man exclaimed, slightly out of breath, after sketching a quick bow. "Please excuse the interruption, my lord, my lady. Just now a rider arrived outside the castle. Ethan Glover."

For a moment, those words did not make sense. Ethan had been with Brandon in the Riverlands and loyally followed south in search of Lyanna afterwards, a path that had brought them to King's Landing. From what they knew, Ethan had been spared the headsman, though he was still stuck in a dank, dark cell beneath the Red Keep.

"Ethan? Truly? Has anyone confirmed it to be him? Lord Glover, or his sons?" His questions came quickly, legs already wanting to hurry towards the castle's southern gate, former troubles entirely forgotten.

He stopped himself, hesitating, and turned towards his wife for a moment. "My lady, you must excuse me."

Catelyn's gaze was understanding as she gave him a smile and dipped her head into a small bow. "Of course."

Ned hurried off and the Cerwyn man keeping pace with him began answering his questions.

"Lord Galbart did. He was the first to have a look at him and confirmed the words."

That quietened any thoughts of deceptions or ploys. Galbart knew his cousin more than well enough.

"He came alone, just him and his horse, and I was sent immediately so you might hear of it all directly from him, my lord."

The rest of the quick walk passed in silence, passing over the drawbridge and outside the three-sided castle of House Tully, and then into the collection of tents and banners from the North not far away, where the men he had brought that could not be housed in the castle had found a place.

Muttering and whispers surrounded him among the rows and rows of tents in various stages of being packed together again for their departure, though the men still had enough presence of mind to greet him with deep nods or bows and exclamations of "Lord Stark!". Word of the strange occurrence had clearly already spread in the camp.

One of the tents marked by the closed fist of House Glover immediately stood out among the rest, for no one was working to take it down at the moment and a sizeable group surrounded it.

People quickly made way for him, and the canvas was raised, giving Ned a first view of the inside.

He could not help a second moment of relief when he saw Ethan for himself. The younger man was sitting on a log fashioned into a rudimentary chair while others, mainly his remaining family, hovered around him talking over each other in effort to find out what had occurred as quickly as possible.

"Lord Stark," someone said, and the attention of the men in the tent quickly turned towards him.

Ethan made to rise from his seat, mouth set into a tight line, but Ned waved him off. "Please, be seated."

"My lord." Ethan accepted with a small nod. There was a harsh edge to his features, a remnant of his imprisonment no doubt, and one wrist was still splinted.

"Has someone fetched a Maester? And call for some food." Ned said, but before any of the others could answer him, Ethan spoke up again.

"There is no need for a Maester, my lord, truly. A healer took care of my ails already," he said, raising his healing arm for a moment. "A few days of rest and I'll be back to my full strength."

Considering the younger man for a moment longer, the hard glint in his eyes and the stubborn set of his jaw, Ned nodded in acceptance. "Very well, no Maester for now, but have some food brought here." The Cerwyn man that had notified him of the development left through the tent flap, to carry out the order. "Now, tell me what happened in King's Landing, every detail."

Ned accepted a wooden chair of his own and settled in to listen as Ethan obediently recounted Brandon's actions in Riverrun and Darry and then in King's Landing, eventually ending with his own imprisonment in a black cell after the king had murdered his brother and father and all the others.

Wolf's Blood, his father had always said. It had been Brandon's death in the end. He wanted to curse it all, but he simply sat, hands gripping onto his knees tightly, and focused on more immediate concerns. "How did you escape your imprisonment?"

"I was saved from my cell by another. Broken out of my cell and the dungeons and then led through the Crownlands and Riverlands, all the while avoiding any notice."

"Who?"

"Naruto Uzumaki. The champion of Harrenhal's melee."

Ned remembered him well. Brandon had taken a surprising liking to him after losing to him in the melee and had invited him to sit with them on more than one night. He had been the one to hold back his brother's rage when Lyanna had been crowned after the joust as well.

"And the man that led you to the Red Keep in the first place," Robett Glover interrupted bitterly from the side. It had been his spot in the melee that had changed hands.

"He freed me, nonetheless."

"Where is he now?" Ned asked, before a distracting argument could begin.

Ethan turned to face him again, eyes lowered for a moment. "He went back south towards King's Landing. What for, I do not know."

"He asked for nothing? Or said who he served?"

"No." Ethan shook his head. "He claimed it was a debt between us and that it was the right thing to do."

Ned was more than willing to accept honour alone motivating any man to act, but this was not the North or even the Vale of Arryn. Different standards held here.

"Lord Stark," Ethan said, standing, now that the explanation had been made. Then he knelt on both knees, head bowed solemnly and baring his neck. "I failed your brother and father in King's Landing. I could not stop that madness from beginning nor interfere once it had. I failed my duties and oaths to your family and brought shame and dishonour upon myself."

Quiet reigned after those words. The Glovers in the tent looked on neutrally, whatever concern or anxiety they must feel well hidden in grim faces, as did all the others. They waited for his judgement.

Ned stood from his seat, towering over the young man kneeling at his feet. He had to decide now, what kind of lord of Winterfell he wanted to be. Starks had ruled the North for generations, harshly perhaps, but not in tyranny.

Taking Ethan's head for his failure, there were ancestors in his family tree that would have done so without thinking. But not many, and not those he would want to emulate either.

He had seen his father judge men from a young age and had seen Jon Arryn do so in his own hall as well. Differently, both of them, but not entirely dissimilar.

Failing where no one could have succeeded was no cause for execution. That would not be justice.

"You followed Brandon loyally, served him well and true. Your family has followed mine for generations, answering when called upon in times of peace and war. What the king did to my family was madness and dishonour, but I will not condemn you for another man's crimes. I will see justice done for my father and brother, and the men that died with them."

He met the eyes in the tent, meeting the challenge he saw there. Then he looked towards the young man on his knees and reached for his shoulder. "Rise, Ethan. I will not have loyal service be punished so long as I rule the North."

Ethan raised his head, features grim, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Then he bowed, deeply.

"My sword is yours, from this day until my last day. Whatever you might ask of me, I will not fail you and yours again. I swear it by the old gods."

"And I will not ask any service from you that would bring dishonour upon you or yours," Ned answered the renewed oath, dispelling the heavy atmosphere in the tent. Then he moved on. "We are headed towards the Trident. I want you with us, and to tell me everything you heard and saw all this time, especially on your way through the Crownlands."

The ship arrived in Maidenpool's harbour with Targaryen sails.

Scorpions were turned towards the vessel as it slid through the water on the way to the docks, and scores of crossbows bristled on the walls of the harbour area, ready to unleash a barrage of iron-tipped bolts should this effort have been some ploy instead.

It was a precaution that turned out to be unnecessary.

Ned was drumming the fingers of his left hand on the pommel of his sword in anticipation as lines were passed from deck to shore and dockworkers started tying down the ship. Then a plank was laid between, bridging the remaining gap and allowing passage to the dock for those on board.

The first two men were armoured in polished steel, swords sheathed at their sides and their surcoats mimicking the large sail of the ship. They were clearly cautious, eyes flitting around Maidenpool's port and taking note of the crossbowmen, still ready to respond to any escalations.

Behind them followed another solitary figure in armour and surcoat, though his was slightly more decorated than the ones of the first two men or the duo following at the very back carrying shields to close out the party. The rondel covering his right armpit was fashioned to resemble a shield and accented in gold while the red cloak trailing behind his back was clearly made of fine silk.

Walking in the fourth position and plainly the person that was being guarded was a beautiful dark-haired woman clad in a full purple cloak closed by an amethyst and silver brooch. Ned recognised Ashara Dayne immediately, recalling their short interaction at Harrenhal which was cause for a moment of complicated feelings that he quickly pushed to the side.

The group of six descended the gangplank and stepped onto the stone dock, where they arranged themselves to stand facing them.

"Lord Tully, Lord Arryn, Lord Stark." Lady Ashara fell into a deep curtsy, bowing her head respectfully. Then she extended a hand to her company. "These are Dragonstone men." She motioned towards the man in the fancier getup. "Ser Mandrew leads them and is captain of the guards on Dragonstone."

"Welcome to Maidenpool," Hoster Tully said brusquely and motioned for servants that stood at the ready nearby. They stepped forward with simple platters of bread and salt.

The cloaked knight and the four soldiers pulled off a steel gauntlet and accepted a small piece of bread, pressed it into the provided salt, and partook of the morsel. Once the other five had done so, Lady Ashara did as well, fully accepting guest right for their side.

When they had all swallowed and the servants had retreated another moment of silence passed before Ashara Dayne once more inclined her head slightly. "Thank you for your hospitality, and for considering this proposal."

"Such judgements will be left for when we have heard the exact words. For now, let us move to the keep, so we might do exactly that," Jon said and allowed Hoster Tully to take the lead of their party. All around them men began moving as well, Stark and Arryn and Tully men guarding their lieges while others remained in the harbour to keep an eye on the ship and its crew.

Though Maidenpool housed a considerable number of people, the walk from the dock to the small hill that held its keep was not particularly long.

Once inside all of them left their entourages behind them, only proceeding past the two Tully guardsmen guarding the door with a single man each.

Ned chose Martyn Cassel to accompany him inside. Ser Vardis Egen trailed behind Jon Arryn just as Ser Mandrew of Dragonstone followed on Lady Ashara's heels. Hoster Tully chose Ser Desmond Grell, for his brother the Blackfish was commanding forces west of the Gods Eye, where unruly bannermen were making trouble for the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.

The castle's hall had been prepared for this occasion, four chairs placed around a table in the centre of the room while the rest of the furniture had been placed at the walls or entirely removed for now.

They sat, their companions standing at their shoulder, and servants filled goblets for everyone before retreating from the hall.

Ned took a sip of the heavy vintage for the sake of politeness before placing the glass back down. He had no intention of clouding his mind today. Not for this.

"I feel compelled to inquire into the condition and location of Lord Mooton and his family before we begin," Ashara Dayne said, her purple cloak discarded to reveal the white and lavender dress beneath. It was cut simply but diminished her beauty in no way. "I understand that you were able to take the walls quickly and with rather little resistance."

"Lord Mooton and his immediate family are held in their chambers in this very keep, so they might consider their loyalties further," Hoster Tully revealed after a moment of thought, fingers playing with the untouched goblet in front of him. "Their lives are under my protection until then. His brother Ser Myles Mooton fell in battle."

Ned remembered the man, as well as the strike that had slain him. He had dealt it himself when the knight had ridden at the head of a sortie intending to surprise them. Unfortunately, they had been spotted early and their attempt at a devastating charge had been routed in turn when he had charged into their flank with a contingent of Manderly and Ryswell cavalry. Maidenpool itself had not resisted them for long after that.

Lady Ashara did not react beyond a small twist of the mouth and a short exhale, though she would have known the knight well. "I understand. Let us move on then."

"Yes, let us begin. Your messages spoke of terms, Lady Ashara." Jon Arryn stroked his left cheekbone with an index finger. "Whose terms would those be, now? Who was it that sent you here exactly, and for whom do you present those terms? The situation in King's Landing must be quite complicated now."

"I come in the name of Queen Elia Nymeros Martell, and speak with her full trust and confidence. Dorne does not wish for war, and neither does our new Queen."

"For now, she remains a Princess," Hoster Tully interjected roughly. "Until Prince Rhaegar is crowned and she in turn, we have only a Queen Dowager in King's Landing, one that is a cowed, beaten woman that will likely yield to anything others tell her to do. Who truly rules the kingdoms at the moment? Our new Lord Hand the coin-counter? Or any of the others that stood with Aerys while he reigned?"

Ned thought the words to be rather harsh, but he did not know Queen Rhaella, had never even seen a piece of her. She had not attended the tourney at Harrenhal with her late-husband and son and both Winterfell and the Eyrie were quite far from the capital.

"Princess Elia has arrived in the capital by now and once Prince Rhaegar takes the throne, he will sit the Iron Throne." Lady Ashara did not wilt, enchanting purple eyes hard. "Lord Chelsted might resist for a time, but he has never been a brave man. I would be surprised if he held out for more than two days before bowing his head and accepting the Princess's greater influence over Queen Rhaella."

"Two days or not, let us speak of details and terms, instead of debating Princess Elia's exact influence at the current time." Jon Arryn took a slow sip of his wine. "How does the Princess envision peace returning to the realm? The king's sudden death certainly complicates this whole affair."

"Any accusations of treason or conspiracy will be rescinded. King Aerys was not sound of mind anymore, and saw schemes and spectres where there were none."

"Does that include the parties not present here?" Ned interrupted, thinking of Robert and the Lords Royce, Mallister, and Glover, all of whom had been presented with the same accusations and demands as he had.

"Naturally." Ashara Dayne nodded her head, hands folded on the wooden desk in front of her. "Lord Tully will similarly be forgiven for his choice in allegiance, so long as he returns to the King's Peace as well. You will disband your armies and return to your lands, as will the Lord of Storm's End."

"Houses Mooton and Darry will have their lands and holdings returned to them peacefully, as will all the other Houses caught in the midst of the fighting." Here she gave Jon a meaningful glance, obviously aware of Gulltown's current situation. "In return, the same will take place from the crown's side. Armies will be disbanded and any holdings or lands returned in peace. Should that take place, any necessary concessions will be minor at most."

"And the crown? How does Princess Elia intend to reverse the damage done by Aerys? You cannot mean for those acts to simply be forgotten." Fortunately, Jon made that point in a calm manner, for Ned could not have. He felt like a stone had dropped in his stomach.

"King Aerys is already dead."

"Aye, but that was not justice," Ned returned, finding his voice. "He deserved death, I will not deny it, but that was murder, nothing else."

Hoster Tully looked on coldly. "And rather convenient, for our absent Prince most of all, and your Princess as well. What was Tywin Lannister promised for his son's contribution? Or did the son deal with you himself?"

"Ser Jaime is said to deny any involvement, and Princess Elia gave no such order. Neither did Prince Rhaegar, for that matter. King Aerys was apparently negotiating with Tywin Lannister before his untimely death, which would make his involvement rather unlikely as well. Whoever is truly responsible, they did so on their own initiative. Or do you intend to profess some involvement of your own, Lord Tully?"

"Hah! This is truly a farce," Hoster barked out. "The king murders his lords and his convenient, entirely unrelated, and timely death somehow wipes the slate clean for his son? Do not toy with us, Lady Dayne. If we wished, we could descend on King's Landing before any support would reach you. Mace Tyrell is busy gathering his armies and holding his eastern border, Tywin Lannister is not yet past the Western Hills, and support from the Stormlands will be slow after Robert Baratheon's victories."

Jon Arryn drummed his fingers on the wooden desk for a moment. "Honesty, if you would, my lady. The true terms you were allowed to present."

Ned leaned forward and considered taking another sip of wine, but decided against it. Lady Ashara did take a sip.

"As I said, all accusations of treason will be rescinded. Armies will be disbanded, and you will return to your lands. A display of returned loyalty will take place in Harrenhal once Prince Rhaegar has been crowned. Prisoner will be released for a fair ransom."

"Additionally, Gulltown's new lord will be acknowledged by the crown and the number of large vessels in its trading fleet may be raised. The Tully lands will be expanded along the Tumblestone, though House Ryger will be returned their seat of Willow Wood. In time, there will also come the consideration of Prince Viserys' eventual marriage to happen in the Riverlands or Vale, under your advisement, Lord Tully, Lord Arryn."

"There is one small addition I would make," Jon said, before Lady Ashara could continue.

"What addition would that be?"

"After Gulltown was secured, I headed west towards the Bloody Gate, where curious messages soon reached me. Reports of a sea battle, they were. The late Lord Grafton's choice was plainly ill-advised, for of the eight ships that had sailed only four had returned, and the crew on one of the four had been... decimated, for lack of a more fitting term. The few survivors were questioned extensively, and I had men I trust return to Gulltown so that I may be certain of the details."

Jon took a sip of his wine, pale fingers playing with rim after he had set the goblet down again. "I will not bore you with the ravings of terrified madmen, yet one nugget of truth is remarkably consistent among the tellings. In the waters of Blackwater Bay and with Dragonstone not an hour away, Lord Grafton found himself assaulted. Yet it is the further facts I would ask from you, my lady."

"The surviving crew tells of a dread descending on them, the Dread of Blackwater Bay, if you will. One man, or not a man at all, if the sailors are to be believed, crowned in gold and bringing death."

Ned looked from Jon to Lady Ashara, but her hard gaze was locked on the Lord of the Vale, as eagle-eyed as the best outrider. "Lord Grafton had planned treachery and betrayal in coming to Dragonstone, but his plans were discovered early. He was unprepared and the morning blinded by fog."

"And this Dread?"

"Your men are not wrong to blame him, though including the colour of his hair seems an entirely superfluous detail. Our own prisoners never seem to include it, though they speak of other facts. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Lord Arryn?"

Jon's small smile twitched for a moment. "Almost. A name, if you would."

A moment of internal debate later, Lady Ashara answered. "Naruto Uzumaki. The champion of Harrenhal's melee."

"I thank you, my lady, for satisfying my curiosity."

She did not dignify that platitude with a response. Then she turned to look at him. "Lord Stark might offer someone to fill a position on the small council, which will soon need new appointments. The bones of his relatives will be returned to him, so they might be put to rest as befit their status, and Princess Rhaenys will be fostered in Winterfell once she has reached an appropriate age."

Ned did not know how to feel. A seat on the small council, a fostered princess. Poor replacements for a brother and father, but he could not get them back either way.

After that began talk of exact details, of when and where and how much exactly. Much of it did not concern him, though Ned still listened carefully when some of the terms for Houses Mallister and Royce were discussed. Eventually, all was said for the day, though more would follow on the next, with precise counter demands being made.

Nothing had been accepted yet and most of the things said today were subject to change in small or not so small ways again, but there was a path for peace at least. Certainly better than their former state of uncertainty, after news of Aerys' demise had reached them.

When Ashara Dayne bid them farewell some hours later and walked from the room with Ser Mandrew trailing behind, he followed, leaving Hoster Tully and Jon Arryn bowed over a map of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Lady Ashara," he called, making the two stop halfway down the hallway. "A moment of your time, if you would."

"What is it?"

"My sister Lyanna," Ned began, bringing a serious expression to Ashara's face. "Brandon accused Prince Rhaegar of her abduction, but I would hear it from you. Is the Prince responsible? Does he have my sister?"

"I don't know," she answered simply, though not without sympathy.

Before she could turn to leave, he grabbed onto her arm. "Please. The truth."

Ser Mandrew grabbed for his sword, but a small gesture from Ashara stopped the knight from baring his steel. "Give us a moment, Ser Mandrew."

After a tense moment, he acquiesced, moving a few steps away and leaving them a small space of privacy. Ashara turned to face him fully and lowered her voice slightly.

"Prince Rhaegar left Dragonstone unannounced and without explanation. We attempted to find him as best we could and are looking for him even now, but we do not yet know where he is, much less why he left in the first place. Your sister's disappearance might be connected, it might not, I simply cannot tell you. I wish for her to be found, but I do not know where she is."

Ned gave a tight nod, letting none of his disappointment show. It had been his last real hope, with moons having passed without word. "Thank you, for your honesty."

I hope you enjoyed chapter 38. Sorry about the small delay, but when I finished yesterday I just wasn't happy yet. Next week's chapter may not get done in time. We'll see.

I tried to make the conversation between Ned and Catelyn kind of awkward, to show that they don't really know each other, but they are trying. Ned as a character is largely concerned with justice and what that means. Honor comes into play too, but the fandom sometimes seems to use that to make it seem like Ned did things only like Jon Arryn and nothing like other Starks before him, 'High as Honor' and all that.

Aerys' death makes things kind of complicated for the rebels, except for Robert. Ned and Jon have a problem with Aerys, not House Targaryen or even Rhaegar. The idea to make Robert the new King comes around near the Battle of the Trident in canon, which is a long way away. Robert has just fought his battles at Summerhall against some of his own lords and is heading northeast. The story about him winning three battles in one day is curious.

There is a great theory out there about it, so I won't go into too much detail here, but it seems likely that Silveraxe betrayed his family's plans, since Robert kills the Lord of Fell in single combat and Silveraxe is so loyal afterwards that his sons still sing Robert's praises under Stannis on the way to fight the Boltons. Robert probably surprised the other two houses at Summerhall, and overwhelmed them after being notified of the plans.

Tywin does not move for a while yet in the books, but he does here. He is using the Gold Road to head towards King's Landing.

Jon Arryn has not married Lysa Tully yet. His current heir is Denys Arryn, who has a wife and child. Denys dies at Stoney Sept against Jon Connington in canon, so there is no reason for Jon to marry again here. Hoster is ambitious, but marrying Lysa to Jon right now is pretty pointless.

Elia is kind of in a difficult spot right now. Even if she was Queen already, her means of acting are somewhat limited. King's Landing and the Crownlands seem to be set up in a way that relies on dragons for the royal family. The Crownlands simply do not offer enough manpower to seriously contend with any of the other Kingdoms by themselves. They can't even feed themselves sufficiently. It is kind of wild that Robert gives Renly the Stormlands instead of just keeping them himself.

The coin-counter Hand is Carlton Chelsted, because he was Master of Coin before that.

Thanks for reading and reviewing. Until next time.