Mychelah

Lys, 300AC

Her fingers curled around the yellowed parchment in her hand. Not yet daring to break the indigo seal her brother always used with the axe imprint on it. Looking out of the window she was currently occupying in Lys which overlooked the Narrow Sea. With numerous houses on either side of her own, brothels, shops, and stalls aligning every single street. People walking by with varying shades of silver and gold hair confirming they were descended from the Dragonlord's of Valyria.

People were stupid, she thought to herself quietly.

All it took was simple analysis to realise that everyone who lived on this island were related in some way or another to the Dragonlord's. Whilst it was fact that they were known for silver hair- not all of Valyrian descent did. Queen Alysanne was documented in having blonde hair and blue eyes. Prince Duncan had brown hair. Princess Rhaenys has her mother's dark hair and dark skin. Then there was Prince Jaeron having black hair too. Whilst uncommon, it did happen, and Mychelah couldn't count the amount of times she had wanted to yell the obvious to them to bring them down a peg in their superiority. The people of Lys took pride in their appearance, but she didn't doubt that if there was a test to find out how much Valyrian blood they had in them it would be minuscule.

"Mama."

Mychelah spun on her feet to be met with the girl she had raised as a daughter. Tanned skin that was common in her part of the world. Eyes so black they looked like onyx's and hair as dark as the night sky. Remembering the words her mother had made her promise. Keep her safe. For so many years those three words had kept her up at night, circled in her mind non stop to the point that she felt as though she was going insane. But she made a promise, and she kept her promises.

"What is it, Lanna?

The younger walked over to her now and rested her arms on the balcony too, staring out as well. When she had left with the babe, her mother had made sure they had plenty to get by. Enough so that she was able to purchase a larger manse that angered a lot of Magister's in the area. Some even challenging her for ownership but every time she had beat them down. Tarena Lannister wanted to make sure her daughter was well defended partially due to her name and partially down to the numerous raids that the Ironborn partook in along the coast where she had lived. Her father had died when she was young, but her mother found solace in a young soldier which she was happy with. But then said soldier had left her heavily pregnant and didn't look back. Mychelah swore then that if she ever came into contact with the man who left her mother in such a state, she would draw him.

"When is it we are leaving for Qarth?"

For a moment, she blinked a few times. Forgetting their next steps in her anger as she normally did. Lannister's were known to hold grudges, even those so far down in the line at most they had a decent sized house in Lannisport, but it did not skip them. Herself included.

"We will be leaving as soon as the others arrive, which should be any day."

Lanna threw her head back at this. Whilst she wasn't her daughter by blood, she was still her daughter. She had taken her in when her father had fallen in battle and her mother was nearing her own death with her illness which took over her. The younger was someone who always needed to know everything that happened and when it was happening, hating being kept in the dark.

"What's that?"

She pointed to the parchment in her hands which Mychelah only noticed now she had crumbled into a small ball. Quickly unravelling it to hand it over to the younger.

"I thought you would've been happy to receive word from your brother."

The older rolled her eyes in annoyance at Lanna's smirk. Whilst she loved her brother dearly, she hated him too. They fought often when they were children and even more so as they got older. She had begged for him to come with her across the sea with Lanna but he had instead opted to remain. Not that it done him any good- she thought to herself, as he ended up banished to Essos anyway.

"I haven't heard from my brother in months. The last time I did it was when he received that letter confirming what we already knew."

"Well perhaps this is information on what has been happening. I can only see so much, mother."

As if to prove her point, she watched as her eyes rolled back to expose milky white before rolling down to show how black they really were. Lips tightening before finally cracking the seal to unfurl the letter. There was only a single paragraph written, and she could tell it was in the code they used as children when they would regularly sneak out with their parents. Lanna looked at it in confusion, but she could read it easily.

Dearest sister,

I apologise for my lack of responses. A lot has been happening across the sea, more than anticipated. Westeros is currently on the brink of war, by the time you receive this raven it has likely started. Tell Lanna that he is in good hands and she need not worry herself. If it weren't for my current vows I would not have hesitated to remain by his side. Tell my niece that all it takes is a recent death and three words to succeed. G has done so now too after we were ambushed by pirates in the Stepstones when we left. I expect to be on the shores within the month. The others are with me, and I also have a howler.

As she finished, she felt a grin beginning to pull at the corners of her lips. Then a deep chuckle, followed by mirthful laughter. Whilst it was straight to the point, she could see what he was saying. Quickly translating for her daughter who was just as confused as she had been before, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. She loved her uncle dearly, and she treasured the little time she got to spend with him. They could rarely meet up with one another in case anyone pieced it together. Mychelah thought it was stupid to take such precautions, no one would look for someone who had a baker for a father and a mother who only had a name but nothing that showed said name. Her brother even less.

"Fire and blood, daughter. Fire and blood."

The older watched as the younger finally realised what her uncle was telling them, looking to the case she cherished like it were the most precious thing in the world. When her mother had handed it to her when she was fleeing, she had scarce believed it herself. Looking at an object that was considered priceless. When they had first set sail across the Narrow Sea, Lanna had cried day and night at having lost her favourite teddy bear. But one day, she had removed the object in the case and handed it to the younger who took to it like a duckling to water. Every night she slept with it, something she continued until one day someone caught sight of what she had and tried to steal it. Mychelah baring the scars from that escapade. Luckily, Lanna was old enough to understand when this had happened, and now it was permanently locked within the case.

Before she knew it, a week had passed. There wasn't much for them to do other than to work. When she had landed here, she had put her skills to good use. Her mother had desperately tried to have her be a typical Lady even though she would never carry the title herself. Even if she did have her mother's name, they were so far down in the line many of them had been forgotten. If her timing was correct, her last link to the main branch of her family was thirteen generations prior. There was plenty of money to the point she would not need to work, but she had to blend in to avoid any suspicion. If anyone found out, not only would she lose Lanna, she would fail in a promise.

There was more than one occasion that she wished her friend was still here, so she could get reassurance that she was doing good.

"My Lady, a ship has been sighted with an indigo axe on its sails."

Mychelah snapped her head around to one of the servants she had. Whilst she despised the word, it was what he was and there was no denying it. Being raised to be so hands on, having people wait on her like glorified slaves did not sit right.

"How many times do I need to tell you-"

"Don't call you Lady, force of habit."

Quirking an eyebrow at the man, it didn't take long for him to smirk and begin laughing. It had started off as numerous arguments, when it had turned to humour she could not recall. Walking across the marble inlaid floor to knock on her daughters door. It opened not long after to reveal she had braided the top half of her black hair back and with the tip of a golden brooch sticking out of one of the many folds of her red clothing. There were only a handful of them made, and a part of her found it humorous her real mother had managed to get such good replicas.

"You should wear some yellow-"

"Absolutely not, Yellow looks horrific on me."

A snort left her at this before saying they were seen. Dark eyes widening in excitement before running down the hallway to the kitchens to get some food, herself running alongside her too. Whilst Mychelah did not want to admit it, a part of her was nervous for this. The last time she had seen her brother had not ended on good terms. And despite neither carrying their mother's name, they most certainly had her stubborn tendencies. Remembering that single raven they had received more than a year prior and what it meant. Remembering that argument like it were yesterday.

Mychelah looked at her brother in shock, surprised he would even consider doing this. Staring at the letter in his hands which had come from a small House in the Crownland's that no longer stood. All members either dead or in exile, a perfectly good castle that was now free as there were no members left. When they had left, almost all contact with Westeros had been blown away like it were just the wind, expecting to never hear anything again.

"I can't pass this up with-"

She smacked him across the face at this, walking close and placing her hands on his shoulders to shake him.

"Don't, it could be a trap-"

"Explain how it could be a trap when hardly anyone knows?"

Her lips curled in at this, not wanting to admit he had gotten her there. Mychelah despised being in a position where she had no response. Taking the parchment herself and reading the scribbled words. The writing itself was barely legible, but what was on there tied in far too well with the timeline of events to simply be a coincidence. Whoever had written this letter to her brother knew.

"I have to go, Lanna would never forgive me if no one tried to help."

Her eyes darted to the ground at this, taking a deep breath and thinking over everything hard. She did not want to lose him. They'd had to leave their mother behind with only the whispered words of a promise and nothing else, barely keeping contact just in case anyone got wind of her brother. Finally, she understood he wasn't going to budge in his reasoning and as much as she wanted to deny it, his last statement was true. Lanna would not look him in the eye again if he didn't take the risk.

"How are you going to get there? You're exiled. If anyone finds out you're on soils you will be executed-"

"Don't you think I know that? Luckily I've got some contacts in Pentos still and with some honeyed words and gold I should be able to get in."

A long sigh left her at this before finally nodding.

"Write me often, I want to know everything that goes on once you get there. Something serious has happened if people are reaching out to you. We know about him, as does Lanna, and a handful of people do in Westeros itself. Keep him safe."

The memory of that day rang as clear as the morning bells did to signify the breaking of dawn. Making sure her dark purple dress was situated perfectly against her. Weaving some golden ribbons into her hair and tying it in a neat bow at the back to keep it from her face. Checking the sides of her legs to ensure her knives were tucked away neatly within her skirts before meeting Lanna to head down to the docks to meet her brother whom she had not seen in a year. Trying to make sense of his most recent raven. At least one mystery was solved now, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Lanna followed in his footsteps, but it was too dangerous for her to do so currently. It was a small ship that met them when they got there, first seeing a flash of blue and red, and finally a flash of pale blonde which matched her own. Her brother jumped over to land gracefully on the docks and walk over, opening his arms to pull her into a hug which she elbowed him for.

"Goodness, look at you. You look just like your mother."

A sad smile came on to Lanna's face at this before laughing a little, tears forming in her eyes before leaping into the others arms. Eyes scanning everyone who had gotten off of the ship to see if she recognised anyone. Two she did, one making her smile and the other glaring at her as he always did. They'd never gotten along, despite what they were both doing.

"Torghen, let Lanna down please. We'll discuss up at the manse."

Jaeron Targaryen

The Northern Camp near Riverrun, 300AC

It had finally happened.

Those were the only four words that were spinning around in his head when he made his way to his own tent for the night. Feeling like a massive weight had both lifted and fell atop him at the same time. The lifting part coming from finally not needing to lie anymore to the Northerner's, and the nerves over how he would make the claim no longer being there. It had lasted for only a moment, that feeling of freedom when it had finally come out. But that moment was something he was going to cherish. But when it finally vanished and he realised exactly what was now happening, nerves began to eat him up.

Now, everyone in their army know who he is. Only hours before it had been contained to three Tully males and one female, the dozen or so at Starfall, the Reed's, the Stark's, the Velaryon's, those at Castle Black when he had let it slip in a bout of anger over being taunted for being a bastard. Then there were the older Martell's and probably Arianne considering he had offered a betrothal with her. Whilst there had been no confirmation of it being rejected, his actions with Doran and the man stating he would remain neutral in the war all pointed to this being the outcome. Of course, there were others in on it, but these were the main players partially on his side.

But a handful knowing was better than thousands. And if Allyria's words were true on her letter, then Beric had been spreading it throughout Kings Landing before he left with Edric. He hadn't heard from them for a while though, last he did was he had been summoned to the capital for some reason. It was a precarious position, being a King that is. For more than a year, he had been preparing to make this exact move. Yet now that it had been moved, Jaeron could say with certainty that he felt like he was not ready. But there was no backing out now. Far too many moves had been made, and now he needs to play in a way that will hopefully prevent mass casualties. When the tent flap opened, he jumped momentarily, spinning on his ankle in alarm but stopping in doing so when he spotted Robb. Relief washing over him before signalling him over.

"How do you feel?"

"Terrified."

The older was now stood beside him, eyeing him up and down and gesturing that he was shaking in fear.

"It's good that you are, as that means you aren't fucking stupid. But you do need to try and hide it from them. Your House does hold a sour taste for many still. What got revealed hours ago is not going to immediately switch people to your side."

He knew that much was true. Hence why he had tasked Arthur to stand vigilant outside just in case. Ghost was currently sleeping in the corner of the tent but he couldn't see Grey Wind. He was probably hunting as his brother's wolf preferred to do so at night.

"Not a nice thought, knowing that our own army probably have people planning on ways to execute me."

"Not likely, you saw their faces when Arthur removed that paste from his hair. That combined with two dragons under your control they would truly be idiots to attempt anything of the sort. I have to ask though, why now? I thought you wanted to wait."

Jaeron asked him to sit beside him as he looked at the chest beside him which was open to reveal the items that were left to him. Fingers trailing lightly over the cloaks and the letters. Dark Sister was buried underneath all his blankets currently, moving them around to pull it free and begin removing the clasps which attached the hilt covering and throwing the shabby sheath to the opposite side to slide it into its proper one.

"I was aiming to get as many allies as possible so the carnage would be less. Dorne are remaining neutral, the Reach and the Stormland's are with Renly, the Crownland's are split between Stannis and Joffrey, the Vale is neutral, the Westerland's are with Joffrey. Meaning there were only two alliances I could actively count on. By making my move earlier than anticipated, it means the others haven't had as much time to secure their positions, it was the perfect time to rip it out."

Robb's eyes widened a little in surprise, but he nodded in understanding after a few seconds had passed.

"Destroy everyone's plans beforehand so they're not as prepared. I'll need to remember that as a tactic. Now what, King Jaeron?"

The younger scoffed before pushing the other to the side.

"Absolutely not. You will not refer to me as such under any circumstances, understood."

Robb was laughing at the reaction. He'd gotten somewhat used to it in Greywater Watch and at Starfall, but hearing it from family was something completely different.

"I've not wholly decided yet. It probably won't reach the other Kingdom's and claimants for a couple of weeks which isn't much time at all. I can't get more allies beforehand because it puts said House's in a difficult position. We have a leg up on the Lannister's with your capturing of Jaime, but we know Tywin is literally days away. I could probably head to Harrenhal right now on Rhaegon and kill him in the next couple of hours."

"Why don't you then?"

Jaeron looked at Robb pointedly at the question.

"Whilst it will break them and give us an advantage, think of the political upheaval that would cause. Apparently Cersei was convinced she would wed my father and it is known she took massive insult when my grandfather had him wed to Elia. Imagine what she would be like if she found out he wed another woman, a woman she would probably think as a barbarian as she was not exactly a regular Lady, that I exist, and I killed her father and have her brother hostage? It's just asking for the capital to attack us and not us attacking the capital. This isn't taking Kevan into the equation, nor Genna. Doing so would make House Frey neutral as she is married to Emmon and they have multiple children. Whilst they aren't liked, we can't afford to lose them-"

"But I'm now betrothed to one of them-"

"A betrothal isn't yet a marriage, Robb. As of right now, it is a contract that has yet to be fulfilled."

He knew Robb wasn't pleased with it, remembering the way his face fell when Catelyn rode back after negotiating. It was a sacrifice they needed to take for them to achieve the victory they already had. Plus, Bran was betrothed to Meera. With Rickon still being a little too young for his tastes, he was the only remaining one who would carry on the Stark name. His name being called caught his attention, turning around to see Arthur looking directly at him and asking for permission to enter. He nodded and much to his shock, Ser Brynden close behind. Standing up and wiping his face of emotion.

"How can I help this evening?"

It didn't sit right with him to speak so formally, but it was something he was going to need to do. He cannot channel his bastard side anymore. He's a King now, and he needs to act like one or people will walk all over him like he is simply a road in their way.

"The Tully bannermen should all be here by the end of the coming week. Lord Hoster has agreed to raise more men to your cause than agreed."

Surprise blossomed within at this.

"Please explain, Ser."

Arthur looked to Brynden now, the other nodding lightly before turning to his nephew and him.

"I won't deny that my brother is a stubborn man, nor will I deny our hostility. However, we are Tully's, and Tully's main value is family. Even if we get to a point where we strongly dislike one another, we will still support one another. Plus, it was your own ancestor that rose our House to what it is by granting the Lord Paramount position to Edmyn. Whilst you are not family to me, we share kin, and our values should extend to yourself as a result of this. My brother will pledge a further four thousand, the remaining men will not move from the Riverland's to keep our position secure."

He had to fight to stop his eyes from widening in shock at the response, and from the way his Kingsguard was looking at him, it appeared he had been unaware of this. Meaning there was something else that he believed they were going to discuss.

"I shall thank your brother in due time, Ser. However, I sense that is not the only reason you have come this evening."

It was deathly silent for what seemed like hours, but he knew it was only minutes at a push. But then he blinked, and he saw the eldest remove his sword. The next moment, he was on one knee and swearing himself to the position he had been offered by Arthur whilst still in Winterfell via raven to Aurane.

"Arise, it is an honour to have you inducted, Ser. Ser Arthur, see to it that another white cloak is made."

Robb Stark

The Northern Camp near Riverrun, 300AC

When morning finally came, relief washed over him in a way he had never felt before. One of not being the one in charge of everything anymore. Whilst Robb did not want to admit to this feeling, he was not going to deny it. The stress of knowing he was going to have to lead armies and thousands who only saw him as a green boy. Yet now, it wasn't just him they were following, and he felt a weight physically leave his body when Jaeron made the claim known.

He walked out into the crisp air, much warmer than he was used to, but cool enough that it wasn't uncomfortable. No longer seeing his breath turn into mist and not feeling snow crunching underneath his boots as he moved throughout the camp. The sun was just rising on the horizon, only amplifying the blood red comet in the sky that had not once dimmed since it had appeared the day prior. It was something he had never seen before, nor was it something he had ever heard of before. Perhaps he should send a raven to Maester Luwin for some information on it. Howland was certain it meant dragons, but if that was the case, why had it not burned when Jon had hatched his so long before?

Or had it been showing and he had simply been too wrapped up in everything to take notice of it? Definitely a possibility now that he thought about it. Humming lightly to himself as he greeted those who were brave enough to ask questions about what was now happening. It worried him a little, that Jon didn't have a concrete plan, confirming his choice to come forward now was very much a last minute decision. Clearly, he found out about Renly and Margaery's marriage before he found out, likely had spies circulating a few castles and keeping an eye on some movements.

However, he was correct with one thing. It would take weeks before the entirety of Westeros knows. Whilst not a lot of time, it was time they could not waste and were going to need to use every ounce of it. Turning on his feet to speak to some of his generals on possible moves they could make. With Jaime Lannister in a cage on the outskirts of their camp, it meant Tywin couldn't make a move against them without losing the son he wants as his heir. It would not be easy to have the man moved from place to place with the army which left them a few options. The first being they do take him with them wherever they go, they split their armies and leave a force behind to keep an eye on him, or he asks his grandfather to imprison him in Riverrun's cells.

The second option would probably not be a good idea, and he couldn't use the same move he had made when he had captured the man. They would need to do something bold, something that would uproot everything which would allow them to gain another upper hand. Remembering words his father had once said to him years before. Remaining a step ahead is not great, as it's one move from behind ripped out from under ones feet. Remaining two steps ahead is better, but there is never a gap between being on top and being chased. There was always someone behind in this regard. Remaining three steps ahead ensured that space in between and it is considerably more difficult to be caught. They were a step ahead with Jaime being their prisoner, and they were a step ahead now with Jaeron making his claim. They need one more to create that gap-

"My Lord, ravens arrived from Kings Landing."

Robb closed his eyes and huffed in annoyance for a second, taking the rolls of parchment from his hands and nodding to the man who had handed them over. His head was beginning to hurt with all of this, wondering how people revelled in doing so. There was some kind of a begrudging respect for those who did, but mostly thoughts of how idiotic these people had to be. He stepped inside his brother's tent who was currently pouring over what appeared to be a map, talking with Arthur, his uncle, and much to his surprise, Lord Wyman Manderly and Lord Jon Umber. An odd gnawing feeling entered him as the latter looked to him, recalling what he had spoken the night before and what almost happened.

"Cousin, how can I assist?"

Even now it was odd to be referred to as his cousin. For sixteen years they had been brothers, another reminder of just how different a path each were taking now.

"Ravens arrived, I have yet to open them."

The younger looked to him before nodding his head as a silent order for everyone to leave apart from the two Knight's. Eyes widening momentarily when his uncle turned his back to reveal a cloak of gleaming white as he walked towards the table to slide them over. There were a few wooden pieces on the map, probably discussing battle strategies. A part of him felt left out that he was not discussing with him, but when he smiled warmly his way he knew he would not be kept in the dark in regards to moves he was considering. His eyes trailing on the seals there were, one he didn't recognise but Arthur stating it was the one they were using with their spies. But which one? Then there was a stag on a red background which belonged to a House he didn't recognise. Then there was a yellow stag.

"Why would Joffrey Waters be sending a raven?"

His uncle's words echoed but then a nasty feeling began to enter him. Ser Brynden made a good point, a very good point. Either this held news, or it was a parlay of sorts. Like that would happen. Whilst it was expected of them out of custom, Northerner's only held them before a battle as a way to try and stop ensuing bloodshed. Jaeron broke the seal on the one his spy had sent, a large smile breaking onto his face.

"Arya has been spotted near Maidenpool. She is apparently heading towards the Kingsroad assumedly to make way to Winterfell"

Relief washed through him at this, his sisters whereabouts ebbing deep within a part of his brain. There was still no word from Sansa, but he knew his brother had sent some people to try and locate her to see if she was at least safe. He had confirmed to him that Torghen wouldn't be stupid enough to hurt her, he knew how valuable she was. Whilst it didn't do much to calm his anger down on the man whom he had never met but the younger had trusted with his secrets, it was nice to know this.

"Robb, send for your mother, now."

The trembling tone in his voice snapped him out of it, seeing his already pale skin had paled further. Practically looking like he was death warmed up. Robb wanted to ask immediately but he understood the order and left in search of her. Luckily, he located her quickly and she must've noticed the expression on his face as she pulled up her skirts so the bottom of her dress wouldn't get covered in mud and making her way over too. Brynden and Arthur looked furious now, and this only set the dread in deeper for him. What had he just opened? Their eyes met for a moment before he slid the parchment over for him to read.

To the rebel Robb Stark,

I have offered for you to pledge your services to me beforehand, which you responded in proclaiming war. When your father was first imprisoned for spreading the lie that King Robert did not father me and that my mother is an incestuous whore. Lannister's and Baratheon's are not Targaryen's, we do not lay with one another's siblings. I will give you one final chance to come south. If you come to Kings Landing and pledge your loyalty, I will recognise your position as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. You will order your armies back to their frozen wastelands they call castles and you will never bare arms against the crown again. If not, I am sure your father will enjoy someone to take in a birds eye view of the city.

Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Andals, First Men, and the Rhoynar. Lord Protector of the Realm.

His fingers tightened around the yellowed parchment, only seeing red now. Joffrey dared threaten him?! Anger surged deep within like it were a fire waiting to be let out from its confinement. But this was broken by the strangled yelp from his mother, breaking out of it just enough for him to catch her before she fell to the ground. Blue eyes welling up in seconds as her uncle knelt to help calm her down. What could've caused a reaction as such? Replaying the words over in his mind but a burning formed once again and he lost all train of thought. Instead, he turned to face Jon. The younger looked distraught, and he could tell he was desperately trying to keep from crying like his mother currently was.

"Jon-"

"The last part of it, Robb. Father's been executed."