Robb Stark

Kings Landing, 301AC

Eight days.

That was how much time had passed.

It didn't seem like much at all but with everything that had occurred it sure felt like it was a lot longer than that. The dead had been rounded up and had all been burned by the dragons unless someone specifically asked for the bodies back because there were just so many. Some who wore sigils on their armour, some who did not but had fancy enough armour to say they were likely squires or lower Knight's, Goldcloaks, Redcloaks, and even those who were not in armies and had simply been caught in the crossfire of the battle.

The fires had finally snuffed out two days prior and even now the smoke and soot was still heavy in the air which made it difficult to breathe, but that was the least of their worries. How had they escaped? Why had they escaped? Why did they not even so much as consider it a possibility? Jaeron was right, it had been too easy. Far too easy. Whilst they had the numbers, numbers didn't win battles all the time. Yet they had gotten to the Red Keep itself with little to no issues and taken the massive red castle that had begun construction during the reign of Aegon the Conqueror and completed by Maegor the Cruel with minimal effort.

Whilst smaller than Winterfell, it was still impressive. Multiple floors high, seven drum towers topped with iron ramparts. He'd spent many days just wandering the many areas. From the Great Hall, to Maegor's Holdfast, the Royal Sept, White Sword Tower which Ser Arthur had taken up residence in which terrified the two Kingsguard who remained behind alongside Ser Loras and his uncle Brynden. Now that had all been done, they had work to do. That being find the Lannister bastard and the other lions and root them all out root and stem. Hopefully wherever the Kingslayer was he didn't get word on their escape and run to meet them. The sole fact they had Jaime as their hostage was why Tywin had been treading carefully with their movements. They didn't have him anymore, and all one had to do was look at Tarbeck Hall or Castamere to know what would happen to them if they joined together once more.

"My Prince, his Grace has called a war council."

Robb turned to face the elderly Maester whom as Arthur said- reeked of rotten eggs. Not quite understanding it and thought he meant it literally before he explained it was he who convinced Aerys to let Tywin's men into the city claiming they were coming to help, in turn being one of many responsible for the deaths of Princess Elia and Jaeron's older half-siblings. The last thing he wished to do was to converse with a Lannister lacky but what could they do? Grand Maester's are appointed by the Citadel and not by the ruler itself, although he suspected his brother had written to the Citadel to request a new Grand Maester on grounds of betrayal to House Targaryen. Whether the words would be heard was unknown.

So Robb stepped into line with Pycelle who was moaning in pain with every single step but he was listening intently. He'd heard Old Nan do the same and he always heard her cracking joints in pain, yet he did not hear them with this man which suggested it was all a ploy to appear weak. This city was full of snakes ready to strike. Venomous and poisonous alike, it was just a matter on whether someone struck first or his brother made a wrong move and died as a result of such a thing. That was a horrible thought, but he was in an incredibly precarious position now.

Whilst he hadn't yet taken the Iron Throne, he'd been proclaimed King all the same. No coronation had been held yet nor would one be held until their enemies were rooted out like the overgrown weeds they were. Entering the Small Council Hall and walking towards the table and taking his seat. Nothing was official yet, this was a temporary Small Council and Jaeron had been upfront there would be changes once success was ripe. Currently, he was standing in as Master of War, Ser Arthur Dayne as Lord Commander which is one that would not change, Lord Aurane Velaryon as Master of Ships, Willas Tyrell as Master of Coin, Lord Varys of Lys as Master of Whisperers which he'd heard he planned on potentially replacing with one of the wargs, Lord Howland Reed as Hand of the King, and finally Maester Pycelle as Grand Maester. Margaery Tyrell was there too, seated beside his cousin whom only now he noticed was wearing the crown of the Conqueror himself and the rubies stuck out brilliantly against the dark metal and his raven black hair.

"Shall we begin?"

Lord Howland spoke, noticing Pycelle stiffen in insult and understanding immediately where his prejudices lay towards Crannogmen.

"Willas, what are the state of the royal coffers?"

Eyes darting to the older crippled man who had a sound mind from the little he had spoken to him.

"They are sitting at eight hundred thousand dragons, and a million stags."

His face screwed in a little at that, that was not much at all for royal coffers. Especially given how in debt the crown was to the Iron Bank, the Lannister's, and gods know where else Petyr Baelish and previous Master of Coin's got the money from. Although, if they did deal with the Lannister's then that would wipe their debt to them which would be a huge weight off Jaeron's shoulders but the Iron Bank would always be there. They needed coin, and they needed it quickly.

"You were tasked to get an estimate to begin repairs on the damage of the city during the battle, what are the estimations?"

"All range from one hundred thousand to three hundred thousand for basic repair, your Grace."

That only made it worse. At least, until Ser Arthur stepped in.

"Your Grace, your father entrusted me to some knowledge of a personal vault with the Iron Bank. I know nought what is in there nor do I know how much is in there, but it may be something to consider. By rights it is all your own as the only remaining child."

Still not ideal, but better than nothing. Wondering why Rhaegar had a hidden vault that given Arthur's words at most a handful of people were privy to. The thought appeared to scandalise Maester Pycelle though who huffed and hawed in annoyance before speaking.

"The crown is in debt and the previous Crown Prince had money kept away secretly?! That is outrageous!"

"Grand Maester, at the time the coffers were all full to the point of bursting, any missing would likely not have been accounted for. Do not place the blame on my father for the state of the coffers for that lies solely with Robert Baratheon and Joffrey Waters- "

"Surely you do not believe the rumours?- "

"They aren't rumours though, are they? I'll cut to the chase here, Grand Maester, but everyone seated at this table knows your loyalty lies to Tywin Lannister, lets not play pretend to the obvious."

He made a gasping noise in offense to his cousins snappish tone but he wisely chose to pipe down in his argument and instead noticeably sulked at the table. Spotting the tiniest of a smile dance on Lord Varys' lips and wondering what was going through this mans head. They knew about a boy pretending to be a Blackfyre and Lord Varys was well aware of the ploy, and they had used it to keep Jaeron's identity a secret before when he'd stupidly let it out when he had spent time at the Wall. Gods, Rhaegon and Lyrax had only been hatchlings then, now look at them. An idea beginning to form in his head and before thinking it through spoke the words.

"Cousin, you have something you can use to your advantage. Something not seen for more than one hundred years- "

"My dragons, I'm aware."

He was about to continue on but Robb cut him off again.

"People will take interest in such a thing, why not use it to help boost the coffers?"

Willas now caught on to what he was suggesting as his head tilted to the side as he thought it through. Granted, it would need a lot of work, but it would be a fantastic quick way to generate money. Charge people so much to see the dragons a bit more up close. Both had currently taken a shaded section of the Godswood as their nest but were seen flying back and forth between there and what Jaeron believed to be Dragonstone often.

"It may work, and House Tyrell is also prepared to pay a large sum in a dowry for the marriage which will also help."

Help your own House, Robb thought to himself. Knowing his cousin wasn't stupid either. It would help bring the debts down elsewhere but in doing so would further indebt the crown to Highgarden which may make anything that occurs in the future more difficult to work around. The less dependency there is on other Kingdom's and House's, the better.

"Has there been any further news to be made aware of in the Kingdom's, Lord Varys?"

"Nothing else of concern excluding the obvious, your Grace."

Traitor, although he could not voice that word aloud. Ser Arthur didn't trust him, Jaeron didn't trust him, Lord Howland only trusted him partially as did Lord Aurane. How anyone found allies in this cesspit of a city was lost on him as it became clear even the most reliable person would happily do something heinous to better themselves. The door being opened as a guard escorted Elissa in.

"Your Grace, we found this one lurking- "

"Let her go, she is one of Lord Howland's trusted people."

Bewilderment was on the guards face but he let her go as he spotted numerous stacks of parchment in her hand confirming something had been found out. Asking for her to come forward as they were placed in front of Jaeron who began reading them aloud for everyone at the table to hear. Clearly neither of them had any incriminating information in them for if they did, Elissa would've sought a private audience which she had not.

"Our blood runs thick with blood of the First Men and we remember our routes. We do not stand with the Lion's nor will we ever."

"House Royce I'm guessing?"

Jaeron nodded to Willas' question. Reading the parchment more and more and realisation sinking in to Robb as there was no other way there would be a single piece of parchment with all these proclamations. They were meeting in secret to pledge support without his aunts permission. A dodgy move by any means but given Lysa had at best proclaimed neutrality and at worst was beginning to accept the Lannister's as they had given her a marriage she had lusted after for a long time from what his grandfather had told him in private when they were in Riverrun as had his mother.

"House Royce, House Redfort, House Tollett, House Templeton, House Waynwood, House Hardyng, House Grafton, and House Arryn of Gulltown."

"The Arryn's of Gulltown are kin to the Arryn's of the Eyrie!"

If that grey rat didn't shut up Robb may just punch him.

"It wouldn't be the first time two separate branches went to war with one another. It's happened with mine own House, and it's happened with the Stark's, many others too."

"And how does one get this information?"

Pycelle now had a smug look on his face at the remark and he spotted Margaery reach over to place her hand on Jaeron's obvious curling fist confirming he felt exactly the same as he did towards the man they had no choice but to entertain.

"Myself and the other wargs- "

"Wargs! Hah! The tales of people changing into the skin of animals in barbarian lands- "

"That is enough, Grand Maester. I will not take an insult towards a trusted person. Perhaps if you opened your eyes you would not be so blinded to what is in front of you."

Robb caught on to what his cousin planned to do. Waiting until they had direct eye contact before they blinked and they were in their wolves. Grey Wind could smell the deceit reeking from the man like a slice of rotten meat. Turning his nose up before staring the man directly in the eyes and growling lowly as Ghost bared his teeth but as usual made not a sound. Those around the table talking in astonishment who did not know this about them before snapping back to their own bodies and having to blink a few times to get focus again.

"I believe that is enough proof of the matter. I shall choose to ignore your barbarian comment but if you dare speak it again- "

No other words were spoken afterwards, the threat being as clear as the sun outside. Continuing to read the letters before stalling on one, eyes widening for barely a second before returning to normal before ordering everyone out of the room apart from himself and Ser Arthur. Wondering what this was because clearly it was serious. Once everyone was out of the room, Jaeron handed the parchment over to them both to read confirming he did not want to speak the words out loud. The walls have ears in the Red Keep, he'd heard the saying hundreds of times but it was clear there was truth to the words with the little time they had spent here.

And the words were terrible.

Lord Hoster Tully would likely only have a few of weeks left to live at best but it was likely to be as soon as a matter of days. His mother and uncle had begun funeral arrangements for when the time came and his uncle was surprisingly actively looking for a wife to continue the Tully line. Wondering what his mother had said to get through his head on the matter as Edmure had been more than against the idea. However, that wasn't the worst of the lot, that being the news from Seagard as he stood up from his seat and having to tighten his lips in rage.

"Those fucking squids!"

Arthur spoke with distaste, Robb knowing what it meant. People knew Theon had escaped during the Battle of Blackwater by stealing a ship but no one had heard from him since. Now knowing where he was or where he was heading because the fact they had him as a ward was the only thing that prevented Balon Greyjoy from attacking. If he was attacking now, it meant he knew they didn't have Theon in their clutches anymore. A moment later, his hand curled into a fist and pounded on the table, ignoring the sharp pain of a couple of splinters breaking his skin as rage rushed through him at an unprecedented speed.

"We need to act, brother."

"Aye, you do."

His eyebrows creased as he looked to Jaeron, wondering what he meant with 'you' instead of 'we'. Pressing his lips tight together before sighing in irritation.

"I need to remain in Kings Landing to hold it Robb, my position is precarious enough as is. If I leave it comes across as me getting cold feet from it all. But they are raiding Tully lands and you are half-Tully, you are duty and honour bound to help your family. I will send four thousand men to aid. The remaining army to march north with speak to my betrotheds family for they are not protected from the squids and will likely take action to get revenge for past raids."

A part of Robb wanted to rage more at the number. Four thousand men? Four thousand? Only realising he meant no insult because as he said it, he had to hold the city and a lot of soldiers were still recovering from their injuries. That was probably the most he could honestly scrape together towards the cause. Nodding silently before leaving the room to seek out Willas, Lord Mace, and Lady Olenna to see how many men they could spare from their expansive army.

Jaeron Targaryen

Kings Landing, 301AC

To say he felt like he was about to burst in rage was an understatement. Hours had passed since the council meeting and he'd retreated to a room which was attached solely to the quarters he had taken up and were not linked to elsewhere in Maegor's Holdfast. It wasn't the King's Quarters for the last thing he wished to do was to sleep in the same room the golden haired shit had taken up residence in. He'd seen it, and the sheer décor of it made him feel sick because people were literally starving in the streets but Joffrey just had to have numerous blankets made from Myrish lace which cost an absurd amount.

People were working on stripping the Red Keep of anything that reminded them of the name Lannister, although it was proving to be a strenuous task. How many lion tapestries and paintings did one need? Never mind the gold ornaments which given how heavy they were, were not simply coated in gold. Once the lions were weeded out root and stem he knew what he would be doing, have them all melted down and use it for something decent.

That was the last thing on his mind currently though. That being the new very real threat of Ironborn being on the shores of the mainland. They had seized the town outside the castle alongside Oldstones a little to the south which given the proximity to their lands led to the Mallister forces that had not marched to have to put an end to them which left the castle undefended which is when they had struck. Seizing the castle for themselves and a man called Dagmer Cleftjaw had claimed himself to be Reaper of Seagard. Not Lord Reaper, just Reaper as the title of Lord Reaper was Balon Greyjoy's who was apparently claiming himself to be the next King of the Isles and Rivers like Harren Hoare. Like that would happen, they would all be thrown into the sea where they belonged once and for all.

How had no one noticed the Iron Fleet was being rebuilt? Why had no one done anything sooner? Surely it was impossible to build hundreds and mayhaps thousands of ships secretly especially given they had rebelled before? Either they were following a fool blindly, or they were all fools, he cared not to know which of the two it was. A soft knocking on the door catching his attention as he called to whoever it was, allowing a small smile to come onto his face at seeing Margaery there. Remembering how she had noticed how agitated he was getting and calmed him down in the council meeting.

"Is it true?"

"Aye."

Her lips tightened and nose wrinkled for barely a second in disgust which almost made him burst out laughing but he managed to contain himself given what they were currently up against. The Lannister's were nowhere to be seen, his sisters were missing, he hadn't seen Bran and Rickon since he had left Winterfell with Howland, his hold on the capital was perilous at best, and now the Ironborn were attacking.

"I did not know yourself and Lord Robb could do what you done with the wolves."

Ghost stirred at that, silently padding over to where he was sitting as she sat down in front of him. Staring at the deep red eyes almost fearfully.

"You petted Lyrax, Margaery. You can pet a direwolf."

A smirk came upon her face then, noticing now one side of her lips didn't upturn as much as the other. Slowly reaching out and allowing Ghost to sniff her and after deeming her not to be a threat eagerly accepted ear scratches.

"He's so soft."

"He's a traitor is what he is, he hates me scratching his ears."

"Maybe he just likes longer nails for a better scratch."

Now, he couldn't help himself as he threw his head back and laughed merrily. That was needed, feeling the stress leave his body if only for a moment.

"My father has pledged seven thousand men to aid Lord Robb."

A decent number, a very decent number. Although he despised the fact it further indebted him to House Tyrell. Whilst many people would be more than pleased at getting both a Queen and a Kingsguard from him, the hunger in their eyes was obvious. They wanted and felt like they deserved more.

"To answer your question, neither of us knew how to control it fully until relatively recently. Less than two years for me and only a matter of months for Robb. It's difficult to describe if you weren't brought up with the stories but when we do so we see through their eyes and we well, become them. We can smell like a wolf, we think like a wolf, and we can attack if need be. But if one stays too long then you risk losing all humanity within yourself."

Jaeron couldn't tell if she was feigning interest or if she were genuinely interested but her left eyebrow quirked up ever so slightly alongside a soft humming noise which broke through the air as crisp as a sharp knife through soft flesh.

"Would you be so kind as to search for Lord Varys for me, my Lady? I have some information I wish to discuss with him privately."

Margaery spoke no further words but reached over to pet Ghost one more time who padded the ground unhappily at her leaving before smiling at him and disappearing from the room. He needed to get to the bottom of this. There was no way Varys didn't know what was happening in the Iron Islands and whilst he was at it, he could mayhaps find out more about what Arya had overheard him talking about so long ago. It wasn't something he'd even so much as thought about for weeks it seemed, but now he held the capital and resided in the Red Keep his ancestors had built, he had to know as much as possible of what was going on in the Kingdom's. He smelt him before he saw him, a mixture of lavender and daisies which almost made him wrinkle his nose in disgust but he kept his face as still as a statue.

"You sent for me, your Grace?"

"Aye. Please, take a seat, my Lord."

He done just that after moving his robes in a way not one would be creased when he sat down and looking him directly in the eye. Dark violet attesting to his Myrish roots where the old blood still ran thick like many of the Free Cities.

"Tell me everything you know about what Balon Greyjoy has been doing. I doubt what is happening was a secret."

"Indeed, 'twas not. King Robert was warned that the best thing to do was to take both of Balon's children as hostages as this would further tie Lord Balon's hands but he did not do so."

"Theon is his son- "

"And the Iron Islands are not the Seven Kingdom's or Dorne, your Grace. Whilst they prefer boys, they are not so unamendable to women."

That didn't make it any easier. Of course, there was a possibility he was lying but there was no one else he could ask. Joffrey's council had all walked out with him other than Pycelle. Even just thinking that name sent shivers of rage through his body. He'd heard from Arthur what he was like, and how he may have helped accelerate the Mad King's paranoia. Yet that position was assigned by the Citadel and if he were to dismiss him they may take that as a slight which would look terrible on his betrothed's family. No, no more problems if he could help it. It was time to start solving some of the problems.

"How has Balon successfully rebuilt the Iron Fleet? Why was something not done sooner?"

Only now did he offer some wine for the man who took some eagerly, sniffing it at first which insulted him because it was clear what he was testing, but accepting it and taking a long gulp. Swirling it in the glass for a few moments as he thought.

"Lord Jon Arryn did try and talk sense into King Robert, but King Robert was not someone who liked being talked to. Do you know how many council meetings he attended his entire reign?"

Where was he going with this?

"One every other week?"

"Six, your Grace. Total. Six in nearing seventeen years. Tell me, how is a man who does not attend his own meetings to know of the turmoil in his Kingdom?"

Six?! Surely not. He'd already held three since he had taken the position and it had been days. Yet he saw no trace of a lie on Varys' face, now understanding just how the rot had seeped so deep. Anger boiling within but refusing to let it come to the surface.

"That answers a lot of questions actually, thank you for your candour, my Lord."

"It is always a pleasure to give my candour. Which is why I come to you with news, your Grace."

All of these damned titles. Jaeron had expected it, but he hadn't expected just how bloody often he would be referred to with them. It was something he had to get used to now as much as he detested it with a burning passion.

"What is this news, Lord Varys?"

Lord Varys finished his glass of wine with one long sip before placing it down and sighing in content.

"Skoriot aōha hāedar rhēden, iā iāpanna." (I know where your sister is, or cousin).

"Usōven?!" (Sorry?!).

The word left his mouth hurriedly, not even needing to think on what to say as panic began to ripple through him. How did he know? Why did he know? Why was it only now coming to the surface.

"Where is Sansa?"

"Ah, so you are aware Arya is not in Kings Landing. Alas, my birds have yet to locate her."

Dammit, he'd trapped him there. The Lannister's had kept the fact that Arya had escaped rather hushed to give the illusion of a tighter grasp on the realm and the people. Clearly they had failed somewhere because there was no way only Varys on this side knew. Which meant there was a possibility Tywin knew and dread ran through him even more than before. If Tywin got Arya…

"And pray tell me, my Lord. How you came across this information?"

"Ah, a tongue as sharp as your father. I will be upfront I will not share my secrets but my birds are loyal to me and they fly far and wide carrying their songs and some only words and I have to piece it all together to get my answers."

Enough with the flowery words he wanted to yell, but he had to keep a straight face to what was currently occurring. Despite everything, a small glimmer of hope was beginning to beam.

"I will not ask you again, where is Sansa?"

The quiet returned with a thick air of uncertainty, the man seated in front of him deciding not to keep him in the dark and tell him straight.

"She was last known to be in Qarth, your Grace."

Qarth? The city in Essos? Right beside the Bone Mountains? Why would she be there? Never mind why she had been there, how had she gotten there? Of course, he'd long come to the conclusion she was not in Westeros anymore given she had seemingly disappeared off the radar when she escaped with Torghen.

"Why would she be in Qarth? Isn't that the easternmost city before you reach the Bone Mountains and beyond?"

"It is, aye. Unless you count in Kayakayanaya and the other mysterious cities further north. Your cousin is with your aunt Daenerys."

That was a name he hadn't thought of for a while, a wave of realisation crashing into him at what this meant. Daenerys knew of him thanks to Sansa as she likely would've told her due to them being family. Especially with her being the last Targaryen alive beside himself and Maester Aemon at the Wall, they needed to stick together more than ever before.

"Thank you for these truths, my Lord, you may leave."

The moment he was out of the room, all of the act of remaining level headed melted into nothing. Immediately slouching over and placing his elbows on the table and covering his face with his hands. Desperate to scream but knowing he could not do that, instead resorting to tangling his curls tightly around his fingers. At least she was safe, that was something at least. Asking for Robb to come here who was equally as shocked as he was as he asked if he would be bringing them both here. Jaeron hadn't even thought that far yet, but the answer was obvious.

They've been separated for far too long. It was time both sides of his pack were together once more.

Five more days passed before the time came for Robb to ready the troops and begin marching north to kick the Ironborn back into the sea where they belonged. To say the Red Keep was bustling was putting it lightly. The news had spread rapidly and it was difficult to know if it had been a spy on the council or if someone had gone talking when they shouldn't have done so, but everyone knew. Enemies all around there was, beginning to feel them closing in on him even if his position was relatively secure even if it were tenuous. So long as he kept the Tyrell's on his side he would keep majority of the Reach which would improve things drastically. Then there was the North that never turned on its own unless it was absolutely warranted. Heading outside and seeing Robb just as he was about to mount his horse.

"Robb!"

He called out after a few seconds, his brother turning around to look back before stepping to be in front of him.

"I want you to remember something. Whilst we've not been as close as we were before all of this shit went down, you are my brother. Maybe not by blood but you are in heart. When you succeed in kicking the squids back into the sea where they belong and you head to Riverrun for the wedding, tell me. I want to be there."

It wasn't there for long, but the tiniest smile was on Robb's face at the words.

"I mean it. You know how to contact me if any further aid is needed. I'm sorry I can't send more men right now. But promise me something."

"What would you have me promise, brother?"

Jaeron licked his lips for a moment as he thought the matter through. Opening his mouth to speak before stopping as something appeared to be squeezing his throat.

"Come back to me. Before you travel for Winterfell come back to Kings Landing for mine own wedding. I need you. Bran and Rickon are in Winterfell, Sansa was last seen in Qarth, and Arya is gods know where. I want at least one of you by my side when I make those vows."

There was no hesitation. The second those words left his lips a massive smile formed on Robb's face as he reached over to pull him in and feeling his hand pat his back. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"I promise, Jon."

It was odd hearing that name again, to be referred to with that name again. Reminding him of where he had come from and where he was now. Pulling away from the embrace as Robb nodded once more before walking back to his horse to mount and riding out to where his men were waiting. Once the gates were closed, realisation sunk in.

He was alone now. Truly alone. In the largest pit of vipers there was.