Author's Note
Hello. I deleted the old Update version of this chapter. Firstly, if anyone is experiencing this site not sending you emails, try making its email bot a contact as that's worked for me.
Secondly, I truly do want to write more. I want to write and actually finish this monster I have started and do it right. But I also want to do my original work and actually work enough to eat and pay rent. I started writing Fanfiction back when I was a lot younger and while I have gotten vastly better at it, the drive to write has certainly lessened over the years. It's kinda weird, now that I'm not writing cringy ass shit I don't feel the same enthusiasm as I did when all I wrote was cringy shit.
I will be trying for a at least one chapter per month schedule, maybe more. If you want to support me and get me off my ass, the usual please leave a review would help but also joining the Discord and talking to me there helps. The invite code is on my profile.
Joanna could hardly believe that someone so wise and intelligent could be this stupid at times. Oh did she love Naraiz but he was far from infallible. Whenever he had an idea of how things were he oftentimes would blind himself if the truth was right in front of him. Thankfully for his scheming he was either usually right or he had people whom he trusted enough to course correct him and he wasn't so prideful not to listen.
"I'm happy to see that you have arrived safely Princess Elia, is everything to your liking?" He asked as he sat at the head of the dinning table. They were in the smaller, more personal dining hall used only for those that lived in the upper tower of Revan. Lady Lysa was in the city with Melisandre learning of its people… a prospect few were entirely comfortable with but Naraiz had signed off on it. Lyarra was watching the kids for the moment as it was decided to ease Elia into her role of caretaker. Everyone else was here, Quinn, Rathari, Fay, Pierce and Xhola. Jaesa was assumed to be around in the shadows, she still refused to eat among the rest of them due to her injury.
"Yes… thank you." She said quickly, trying her best not to look directly at him or Joanna. The older woman had quickly deduced just why she was acting this way. There had been a suspicion that someone had been watching them last night, her enhanced senses had caught something but she was… sufficiently distracted to really notice in the moment.
"Good, I'd hate to have your brother show up here one morning demanding why aren't you comfortable. Because one… he'd likely barge into my room uninvited and two I'd have to see Dabai again." Again, he was completely unaware of the girl's feelings. It was odd, because Joanna knew of her lover's usual intuition regarding these things. Most likely he just doesn't see Elia in that light and is attributing her actions to something else. Or he does know and is refusing to show it which was also just as likely. It wasn't like he'd refuse Elia if she came to him and confessed her feelings for him. He'd first come to her and Lyarra and they'd discuss things, perhaps also call Vette but his relationship to both her and Jaesa was much more… not causal but lighter.
"Hehe, yes that does sound like my brother. Excuse me." Elia got up and hurried out of the room, a few people raised their eyebrows but went back to their own.
"You going to save her, or should I ask Fay to do it?" Naraiz quietly asked Joanna after putting up a small sound barrier. She gave him a knowing smirk, just how well did he figure things out remained to be seen.
"Save her from what? The girl just needed to use the privy; I think she's old enough to handle that on her own." How she loved to draw these things out. It had been a very long time since she had been to court and had to trade barbs and words with others that sought to destroy her. Best she could do now was run verbal circles around her darling soulmate.
"She's shell shocked. Going from the Red Keep and what goes on there to here must be jarring. She had Rhaella back there, she'll need you here." He wasn't even close. But he was probably right to a degree, this was a big change for the young woman.
"Oh, you're right. How could I not see that?"
"You're making fun of me, and I don't know why."
"What? Me? I'm hurt that you would ever think I could do such a thing to the man I love."
"I'll reinforce the collar and set you back a year or two." Joanna stuck out her tongue in a childish display of disapproval. Unlike Lyarra who generally embraced the changes the Collars brought, Joanna sought to lessen its effects on her mind. Not actively fighting it but dulling it over time, as the former carried dangers that neither she nor Naraiz wanted. The fact she was able to mentally call him Naraiz instead of master was testament to her progress. Though… in the throes of passion it tended to leak back in.
"Don't worry dear, I'll handle everything." With a parting kiss to the cheek, Joanna left to find the Dornish woman and to hopefully figure out just how deep she's gotten herself in.
Finding Elia had not been hard, all the servants in the castle knew Joanna and listened to her every word. She had done her job as head of staff for the keep well and made sure every voice had been heard. Mainly so those voices only spoke to her and the people that lived here. Barad-dûr had a reputation in Westeros as impregnable to all spymasters and it was a reputation she was proud to play a part in.
The new member of said keep however was unaware of all the eyes that it had and Joanna was able to find Elia on the bridge to the Tower of Manwë. A slight breeze came up, unusually mild for the current season. Elia however had come to this place for the view more than anything else. Below was an excellent vista of the sprawling city that surrounded the keep and beyond that the God's Eye. Even further beyond somewhere over the horizon was Dorne, where Joanna assumed Elia was pining for.
"I'm sure one day you'll be able to return." She offered knowing that it would be a great deal of time. But perhaps not, after all she herself had been back to the Westerlands many times since coming to live in Barad-dûr permanently.
"It's been so many years now; I've forgotten the layout of the Water Gardens. I remember how to get to the main pools but… everything else is fuzzy." Elia recalled as Joanna moved to stand next to her. The older woman understood, it was very odd sometimes how memory worked. She could still remember the sounds of miners picking at the gold veins of the Rock, or the feeling of the summer snow of Winterfell. But so many other details were beginning to fade from memory.
"I've always wanted to visit the Water Gardens, your mother always made it sound so fantastic." Joanna had seen many wonders both here on her homeworld and up in the stars but that would always feel like the one that would never be truly up to her expectations. Mainly because there would be something missing should she actually visit there.
"Is that your way of telling me that you're Joanna Lannister?" Elia smiled knowingly as she looked to her mother's old friend. And the lady lion just gave a casual shrug as if to say she wasn't trying to hide it. Because she never really did. There might be rumors among the servants of Barad-dûr but none of them could confirm them. None of them knew her when she was publicly Joanna Lannister just like none of them knew Lyarra when she was the Lady of Winterfell. And that list would only grow shorter by the year.
"I wanted to tell her but chose not due to circumstances around that night. If she knew well… there'd likely be war." If Nysah Martell had discovered that Tywin Lannister had struck her then maybe not war but certainly relations between Dorne and the Westerlands would sour even further. Joanna knew that the previous ruler of Dorne was a great and tactful leader except when it came to her family and true friends. The only reason why she held her tongue over Rhaella was because her tormentor was the king himself.
"I won't pry, I'm sure you had your reasons." There was a sudden quickness in her voice that spoke of her thoughts on that. And Joanna had a cats' grin as she found her opening.
"Oh yes, many-many reasons. Some of which are still coming again and again to remind me." The innuendo was strong and Joanna was laying it on thick. She never thought this would happen, where she would be out doing the Dornish at their own game. But Elia was blushing like a fresh maiden who just had the talk of her wifely duties hours before the wedding. "Okay, I'll stop torturing you. You saw us last night during our… activities, yes?"
"Yes." Elia nodded after a moment of hesitation. "I just… I wanted to speak to Darth Nagash. I had few things I wanted to talk about and couldn't wait anymore. Then, I saw."
"Myself, Lyarra and Naraiz all enjoying each other, correct?" The poor girl was now trying to hide her face in the curls of her hair. Joanna laughed at just how bashful this princess of the south was being. "My dear you truly are a delight, I have met so many of your countrymen and none of them were joyfully adorable as you are right now."
"Well, I am happy that this is so amusing to you." She pouted but that only made her even more darling in Joanna's eyes. But that pout faded as it was replaced by a somber mix of seriousness and hesitation. "I also know about Rhaella. And the Governor mentioned more."
"Yes. Naraiz does have this habit of gathering women to him. But I think that's just a natural occurrence to the powerful, man or woman. Thankfully, I have been told he's grown up from his youth and now is far more selective. He does not seek out new love but love tends to seek him out." That had been the general agreement between Naraiz and the women in his life. He didn't go whoring or even attempted to seduce other women but at the same time would not deny the feelings of those that came to him should they be real.
That little scheming shrew from the stars was a good example, on the surface she was everything Naraiz in his younger years would have gone for. Beautiful, cunning enough, and from a good family. Even more so, bedding her would further his plans. But he refused her as he himself felt nothing for her emotionally and knew that she only saw him as a means to power.
"So… you're okay with him sleeping with others?"
"It's odd having this conversation with you. But yes. To simply put, we all love each other to one extent or another, Naraiz just happens to be at the center of this strange web we have." Joanna did love Jaesa and Vette in the same way distant families loved each other while she loved Lyarra and Rhaella far deeper. "I'll leave you with this Elia, whatever you may feel is your choice just as it is mine, as it is his, or anyone else. But I will advise you to take your time, a lot has changed for you and any rash choices may not get you what you truly want."
"Thank you… I'll think about what you've told me." She gave the princess one last reassuring smile before letting her remain with her own thoughts. Joanna turned around and started heading back to the Tower of Revan, knowing that the gods were continuing to play an amusing trick on her once wish to have a big family.
"Lead the vanguard they said, you'll get all the glory they said… well glory is worthless if you're dead." Khort grumbled as he swatted away another group of Tarly levies that had attempted to gang up on him. All around the Hedge Sith was chaos, meanwhile he was practically a sea of calm in all of it.
Robert had wanted to take Ashford in order to secure the Stormland's western flank, unfortunately it didn't turn out as planned. Waiting for them was Randyll Tarly and his army. Scouts and skirmishes reported a large Reach force commanded by the man heading towards the Usurper's main army. Thing was… it wasn't an army that could beat Robert's, but it certainly was big enough to maim it to the point the rebellion would die the second the Targaryen forces pounced on them. So, it was decided that a smaller force would peel off parts of the Tarly led army and hopefully allow for Robert and the majority of his men to make a break northward. And Khort didn't know who had volunteered him to lead this diversionary force but he would find them and make sure they knew just how displeased he was with them.
With a stretch of his hand he sent several Reachmen onto their backs with the Force. Seeing the literal magic before them many were hesitant to approach him. That was what Khort loved about the Force, it made him look so much more competent than he actually was. He was no Jarman, Victarion or Thoren, there was no great skill in his Valyrian Blade that had remained nameless. But what he was good at was making people think twice about ever testing just how good he was. And when faced with a foe that he knew was better than him… well… he had found other uses of the Force to help him there.
More of the Tarly soldiers circled him and now seemed to get enough cohesion to form a spear line. While the rest of the battle had devolved into an all-out frenzy instead of a clean battle line, the effort to kill Khort was a bit more focused. In this chaos it was easy accidently fight your own allies but a man using the Force stood out and it wasn't hard to tell who was on whose side there. The spearmen inched forward as the men behind them braced for another possible Force Push.
"Smart bastards, but I'm smarter." The rumbling of the earth echoed Khort's taunt. Pebbles and dirt vibrated under the feet of the Reachmen, those that had been trained by veterans first thought that a cavalry charge might be incoming but that wasn't the case. Even the most lazy and disinterested of the Sith experimented with their powers to some degree. Khort was no exception. While his sword skills were by no means enviable, he had his own tricks and skills with the Force by product of his fiddling around with just what he could use the Force on.
A plum of the loose top layer of dirt exploded upward into the armor and faces of those surrounding the Hedge Sith. None of them were able to prevent themselves from reacting to the sudden attack from below. Their line broke and many stumbled around, caught in trying to get rid of the irritants that had blown up into their helmets or whatever they had been wearing. This was plenty of time for Khort to Force Push many of them back to the ground and even take a few slashes at others. He needed to get out of all of this, perhaps find a small, abandoned cottage nearby to hold out in. With so many men called to war, there had to be a few abandoned farmsteads.
"Khort!" The call of his name over the roar of the battle caught his attention from his plans of desertion. Riding through the mess of loose fighting and carrying the battle standard of House Cafferen was its lord. The warhorse steeled itself through the sounds of battle and charged its way into the open area that Khort had been maintaining. The lord must have seen the use of power and headed in its direction. "King Robert has retreated, finish up here and find a horse. We're getting out of this swap of dead men."
"About damn time, I'm not superhuman… this shit's tiring." The very real exhaustion in him caused him to speak the truth just for a moment. Using the Force wasn't as easy as many of the common folk thought it was. It used energy. It was like running from one village to the next without moving at all. But the adrenaline of battle and life or death fighting covered for that. "Don't see any horses that are up and running but yours milord, care to share."
"None other but my lady wife rides with me sorcerer." By the tone in his voice Khort knew there was no friendly smirk of banter or anything so nice. But, the war continued to provide him with an opportunity to get himself good with the nobles. Khort lifted his hand up and knew that the Lord Cafferen thought so low of him that he thought that he was about to be pulled off his horse. Instead, a rain of arrows that would have killed him like the men around them was halted in the air.
"Cowards, thinking that an arrow volley would do us in huh?" Khort suspected that a group of archers had been waiting for a lull in his fight. A chance to catch him at range when getting in close had failed. And both him and the Lord of House Cafferen presented too great a target. "Well good luck to you milord, I shall find my own escape."
"Don't think for a second I don't know what you did there. But honor is as honor demands. Come, let us leave this place." He said as held out a hand to help the Sith up onto the back of his stead. Khort smirked as he took the offer and pulled himself onto the warhorse, happy to have a convenient way out of this mess.
Riverrun was on the verge of falling. If it wasn't for the Iron Born's affinity for sailing and ships then they would have never been able to do the damage they had to the castle. In times of siege the keep had the option to open its sluice gates and allow the two rivers it got its name from to create a manmade island out of the entire castle. This did not deter the reavers as Eddard saw it.
"My lord, we really shouldn't be this close. These raiders have good eyes from their time at sea." Rodrik Cassel, a noble man that had served the Stark family since he was young, said as they hid in the bushes. On a small wooded hill overlooking the siege of Riverrun, a small scouting party that Eddard had insisted on joining looked over the current state of things.
"And all those eyes are looking at my wife's home for the plunder in it." The new lord of Winterfell knew that such a reckless thing for him to do was dangerous. Perhaps it was the fact that these islanders were destroying his new wife's childhood home or an effort to emulate a little of the lord his brother would have been but either way Eddard had wanted to see the upcoming site of his first real battle more than any other reason.
He had come south with the full force of the North at his back and they were ready to crush the Dragons and all that stood with them. His sister had been stolen from him and his father and brother had been butchered by a madman. The North demanded that vengeance must be paid and Eddard couldn't agree more. But even as happy memories of a complete family plagued his dreams and spurred him on to march to battle, that very destination terrified him. Yes he had fought in the Harrenhal Melee and trained all his life for this, but those were very different to what he was facing now. This was real, he could die.
"They still haven't taken the keep but the walls are damaged. The only thing keeping the iron born from full charging is the rivers, they seem to be extra dangerous or maybe that's just normal for them." Another of the scouts commented as he focused on the castle itself. The Iron Born weren't the only ones to have come to this fight. Some of the traitor Riverlords that had sided with the Mad King brought along siege equipment and were assisting the pillagers breach the walls.
"But is there any chance they know we are coming?" Eddard asked as he noticed a lack of rearguard defenses. Everything was focused on cracking Riverrun open.
"Oh by every god out there yes, but do they know when we are arriving is another thing." The scout snorted derisively but gave a quick apology when he remembered who he was talking to. Eddard didn't care but decided it was time for him to pull back as he had seen what he came to see.
He and Rodrik both left the scouting party and rode back to the main force of the Northern and Vale army. They had met up with the Valemen on the way and had gotten word of the siege to the Riverlands' capital a day after they had joined forces. Crossing the Twins had been a pain but Lord Walder saw reason after Jon Arryn agreed to have his son marry one of the Frey children. A sacrifice that would not need to be met for a long time as the young Robin was but a newborn but it was a sacrifice that Eddard would remember.
The knights of the Vale rode alongside Northmen, both considerably different from each other. While the southern knights carried themselves with chivalry and high standard expected of them, the northerners were brash and direct. Thankfully the former were not like the stuck up Reachmen and the latter not too crude and savage like the Iron Born. Where there could have been some issues in culture, the overall zeal in their mission smoothed over what friction there would have been. It was as functional as two military forces unused to working together could get. For that Eddard was thankful as he did not wish to deal with internal problems while the enemy was so clear. Even as he entered the main temporary camp that this army had set up alongside the forces of Vale he could see both sides working together well.
"Lord Stark, you have returned. Lord Arryn waits for you in your tent." One of the guards announced as Eddard dismounted from his ride. While Robert was the face of this rebellion, both of the young men knew that it was Jon Arryn that would be coordinating the war effort. It was him that had given Robert his plans and ordered before he left for the Stormlands that it was him that was leading the war council here with the Northmen and his own people.
"Thank you. Rodrik come with me, there's much to report to lord Arryn." The young wolf nodded to his companion but the guard that had approached him had more to say.
"Sorry my lord but Lord Arryn asked for you to come alone." It had been some time since he and the man whom Eddard regarded as a second father had spoken alone. But without another word he nodded and dismissed Rodrik and made his way to the simple tent that had been set up for the Lord of the North. It wasn't much as the camp was only meant to be used for but a few days to give the men time to rest before the last march to battle.
"You wished to see me Lord Arryn." Eddard spoke as he entered the tent. Inside Jon Arryn was looking over some maps of the lands surrounding Riverrun on a simple table. He didn't look up from them but instead gave a displeased snort at Eddard's words.
"You are my son in all but blood, there's no need to use titles. Would you have done so for Rickard, you didn't and you shouldn't have." He rolled up the map he had been looking at before finally glancing up to him, immediately the serious glare he had for the map was replaced by a soft and relieved smile. "Foolish thing going out like that. We have scouts for such jobs, and here I thought I made sure you wouldn't be like Brandon."
"I'm sorry, wolves can't be tamed like falcons." They both had a bit of a laugh at that before the mood grew serious once again. "The Iron Born and traitor River Lords have the keep surrounded and are preparing for another assault. I think they might actually breach it this time. The walls are damaged and while the river is wild I don't think that it will frighten the Iron Born as much as it should."
"There are probably those among the turncoats prodding them into a reckless move so that they might get a bigger share of the spoils. The Iron Born raided and pillaged the riverlands for centuries before the Dragons came and banished them to their desolate islands. They know how sack keeps and cities, they've done it before." Jon explained as he finished putting away his study material. Eddard knew the history well, he had caught up on it prior to meeting Catelyn. But it had been quite some time since those days and so whatever siege ability the Iron Born once had dulled quite a bit. "But we have the bane of the Iron Born in spades, cavalry. Our knights shall remind those pirates why they should fear the days when they have to leave the sea."
"And what about the Targaryens? What if the Iron Born are just bait to catch us in the rear." As far as Eddard was aware the Prince and his army hadn't moved much from the crownlands. In fact, he hadn't heard of any sightings of the prince but it could just be that information wasn't traveling as fast because of the war. Beyond the massive armies of the two sides, there were also small skirmishes between the lesser houses and roving bands of supporters for both sides.
"I want you there protecting my forces from any such threat." Jon spoke with a firm authority, knowing that Eddard would object and he would regardless.
"That is my wife's home, I won't stand by while it is pillaged." Eddard responded in kind, the conviction of a man bound by honor and responsibility.
"No." The Lord of the Eyrie wasn't haven't it. "This is your and Robert's war. I won't have you wasted on an obvious distraction. It will be the Vale to free up the Riverlands and then you and the loyal Riverlords will meet up with Robert south and then march on King's Landing. We will cut off the head of the dragon and end all this."
"And leave you alone to contend with the Reach, the Iron Islands, and Westerlands?" As much as Eddard wanted to save his sister and avenge his father and brother, he wouldn't leave the man who raised him to die at the hands of all of their enemies.
"Tywin has yet to declare for anyone and I doubt he will until it's clear who will win. The Iron Born will be broken here and now. As for the Reach, I have met Mace Tyrell. He is a coward and a fool, I have little doubt I can't handle him." A smile tugged at Jon's face as he recounted that meeting he had with the Warden of the South. Truly he had never met a more apt example of a figure head lord than he had with Mace. But that smile faded once again as he looked back to Eddard. "This war can not be won by men entering into their elder years, it must be won by the young. You and Robert will avenge all the wrongs the Targaryens have wrought yes. But after? You must unite back the broken realms."
"Milord, we still haven't found him." Jon Connington scowled as it had been days since they have seized the town of Stoney Sept. Robert had been reportedly injured by a lucky ambush by local supporters of the crown. Of course they had been butchered by the rebel's men but they had been able to sneak past the bulk of the Stormland's army and into Robert's retinue camp. Brave men that Jon hoped were seen favorably by the Seven.
"Search the sewers again! He has to be here somewhere!" They had to find him before either Robert's own army returned or the Starks dealt with the Iron Born and made their way south with the rest of the rebel army. The Stormlanders had been ordered to met continue north without Robert as to not slow them down. Having them link up with the North and Vale was too important and Jon had to respect Robert's decision making there.
His soldiers saluted and went off to carry out his orders but Jon could not shake the feeling of unease. Something was watching him. From the moment that he had entered the town the Lord of Griffin Roost knew that eyes were trained on him. Usually he got this feeling at court. It mattered little in the end. For he would find Robert and the glory that came with that. Ending the rebellion here and now, delivering the foolish boy's head on a spike to the prince himself.
As Jon was thinking about rounding up another line of men to send to the crow cages, he heard the bells of the sept begin to ring. This wasn't a day of prayer and even if it was, the time was anything but appropriate. But then he heard something else on the air. A low thunder. Jon's eyes widened as he recognized that sound. That of many horse hooves. The rebels were on top of them.
"Forgive me my silver prince but I wasn't able to end this as quickly as I could. But end this I will." The man who was more loyal to the prince than any other drew his blade and shouted to his men to get ready for the attack. But just as the northern army descended upon the Stony Sept and the Battle of the Bells began, Jon Connington fell dead to the ground. Four small holes, entrances and exits, in his armor where his heart was. Far off in the distance a Nightbrother lowered his scope and nodded at a successful mission.
"From all reports it would seem that the Lord Hand died in battle against the rebels. His army has scattered and is being hunted by the traitors. Your grace, I would advise you to take caution." Mysa watched from her disguise as Varys took a gamble at persuading the Mad King to do anything at all. But it was smart, as Varys looked like he was taking the matter seriously while still being on the King's side.
"Nonsense. I am the blood of the dragon and as such I do not need caution as the lesser creatures of this world do." He said that while at the same time being so paranoid as to not eat anything but bread and water he had gathered himself and banned any weapons in his presence but that of the Kingsguard. "Chelsted!"
"Yes, your grace?" The Master of Coin took a step forward from the crowd in the throne room. Though calling it a crowd was a bit of a misleading statement. As ever since the burning of Lord Stark and his son, the court had been depopulated to just those that absolutely needed to be there and only the most foolish or desperate.
"You shall be the new Hand of the King. See to it that you perform better than those that came before you." The Sith Neophyte knew that the man was already dead. And was likely aware of that fact himself. Under the Mad King the position of Hand was cursed. Nothing good ever came of it. But before Lord Chelsted could make any sound of confirmation or ceremony, the doors to the great hall of the Red Keep were opened. Everyone looked to see the previously missing prince walking in like he had been around this whole time.
"Father. We must speak about the war." He announced as he strode toward the Iron Throne. Aerys meanwhile was switching between utter rage and bored apathy. Which was directed toward the prince and the war itself was obvious to those in the court. But once Rhaegar stopped at the foot of the throne, the king looked to all else in the room.
"Out! The dragons shall speak among themselves." That had been a trend lately, Aerys using the term dragons to describe himself and his family in a more literal way. All signs of his deepening insanity. Those few of the court quickly moved to leave and Mysa was no exception, the princess was more prisoner than actual family member even before she took over the identity.
"Princess, a word." Mysa looked back to see Varys standing behind her, motioning for her to follow him. The guards had stopped actively keeping watch of her, they had bigger issues to deal with. Plus the Sith Neophyte had been ever so slightly influencing them to think about her less and less. Only the Kingsguard truly were free from her meddling as they all possessed stronger wills than most. But they were the most distracted by the war and keeping the real royal family safe.
Mysa followed the Master of Whispers away from the crowds and towards an empty rampart of the castle, a view over the Blackwater Bay was clear as the weather was perfect. Varys had actually been quite the help in keeping her identity a secret as made sure to quietly replace all the servants that had been with Elia and who might notice a difference in behavior. It was unlikely any of them would suspect the truth of the switch but they might report to someone that the Princess was acting strangely and that could cause a deeper investigation.
"What is it that you wished to speak about Lord Varys?" She leaned on the edge of the railing while looking out on the peaceful view. No doubt the city would be besieged within the year so it was good to take in the sights while they lasted.
"I merely wished to ask if you were feeling well? I understand it must feel quite stifling living in conditions like this." He said with an air of quiet levity that Mysa would have taken as mocking if it was coming from anyone else.
"It is a bit boring but understand this, the only way to advance among my peers is to prove ourselves capable. This will be a big step forward in that." They couldn't be completely transparent with their words, not only would it be bad form on their parts but there was always the tiniest chance they could be overheard. But as an accomplished spy master and an aspiring one this was just shooting the shit as it were.
"I see. Well your people seem to have a greater value of merit than I had expected. Such a rarity these days." That was to say that most people got to where they were not by actual skill but who they knew. And it was true, nobility everywhere was a game of who knew who and what about who. "But I come with news regarding your husband. I feel the need to give some of my suspicions on just where he could have been."
"My husband's moves are his own to make. I am but his loving wife. As master of whispers you really should be doing your job in more important matters, like finding out just where Darth Nagash is. As the Royal Court's Sith, he really should be here." The message was clear, to get whatever information Varys had to the Grandmaster of the Sith. She was useless here in King's Landing other than her job at playing the part of the Princess. Mysa was not some great spymaster with eyes and ears in all places yet. She could not get word to Darth Nagash if she tried.
"I understand. It was my only goal to maybe alleviate some worry you may have had regarding him. Have a good day princess." Varys bowed and left Mysa to enjoy the view by herself. She knew that at some point someone would see her and then tell a guard that she was about to throw herself over edge or some other such nonsense. Best to enjoy the serenity while it lasted. But it did not last long.
"Princess Martell, you have been requested by both his majesty and the prince to appear before them in the throne room." That was a danger, Mysa had yet to perfectly perfect Elia's voice. She had some training by Varys who knew it well enough but all she had to go on from personal experience was that single meeting. Then there was the possibility of Rhaegar trying to touch her face. That would cause the Holo-disguise to flicker. But they had sent two of the Kingsguard, this wasn't something she could wiggle out of.
Silently she went with the two knights back to the throne room. Neither of them said anything but she could sense a mix of fear for her, disgust sorta directed at her, and just general fear of the king. Mysa didn't have a clue as to what this could be about. The plan had been to fake her death during the siege of the city and for her to use a dummy corpse in which could be passed off as Elia. But if she was sent to burn in wildfire by the king… well… Darth Nagash had given her permission to do as she saw fit if there were no other options. Within reason.
The throne room was empty save for the King, his heir, and the Kingsguard assigned to them. Mysa maintained the scared but putting on a brave face princess she was supposed to be. By now she already knew that looking to Rhaegar was pointless but she did so anyway for the act. Like she expected, he was stone faced and didn't give her the least bit of nonverbal reassurance. The King meanwhile she didn't dare look at him but she could sense from even just the start of the hall he was fuming. This was not looking good.
"Martell! What is the meaning of this!" He roared and the hall echoed in his fury. Mysa had no clue just what he was talking about and she hated it. One of the big reasons why she wanted to be a spymaster was to be aware of the dangers to herself and those she loved. Being in the dark like this was infuriating.
"I-I do not know what you are-"
"Your brother refuses my summons! He knows that you are here, at my mercy and yet he maintains that is unable to come to King's Landing or send his armies to fight on the front lines. Gives excuses of pirates in the Stepstones." He knew that she wasn't his sister. Mysa had been curious about that for a while now. But this confirms it. If Elia really was being held hostage then there would be no doubt that her family would do as the king demanded.
"My brother is loyal your grace, I'm sure that he is working his hardest to free up men for the war effort." There was zero chance that any of that was true. But she needed to say anything to avoid getting executed here and now.
"Elia, I got the message myself. Your brother seems to have abandoned his duties to the realm." Rhaegar was staring through her. There was no kindness for who should be his wife, only a detached irritation. This was inconvenient for him and that was all he felt about it. Mysa knew that she didn't have an out here. The pyromancers weren't here but they could be getting their wildfire ready. The only thing she could do before potentially exposing herself was to beg and plead.
"Please your grace." She got onto the floor, making sure to lower her head so as to not show that she was gritting her teeth for every word. "I beg mercy. If my brother has abandoned you then he is not my brother anymore. He is but a traitor and deserves nothing but death."
Mysa could sense the whirling emotions in the room. Rhaegar and the Kingsguard were all surprised at her words. It was pretty out of character for Elia to say something like that but she needed to buy time above all else. The risk of exposing the lie though breaking character was better than the risk of them trying to execute her. But the king, he was pleased. Seems this is exactly what he wanted to see and was happy that his twisted version of reality was playing out in actual reality.
"Yes, good. If only so many others would just do as they should before their betters. I shall show you mercy for now Martell if only because you have yet to provide me a grandchild. Once my son has his heir, we shall revisit your guilt in your family's treachery." Of that Mysa had no fear of Rhaegar suddenly showing up in her room ready to get it on. This entire war was about him thinking that he and Lyanna Stark were in love. Even if it wasn't true, the prince clearly did not favor his legal wife.
"Thank you, your grace." Mysa pulled back after standing back up, hoping that this would be enough to satisfy the deranged monarch. She heard some complaints from the prince about how his forces were now down a significant number of men without Dorne but the King waved him off. The last thing she heard before leaving the hall was that the prince was do with what he had.
Robert didn't think he was ever going to get used to battle. Both the thrill of fighting and danger of dying to some poor lucky bastard's arrow or sword, or the shitting his pants levels of fear that barreled into his mind. But he had rage, excitement, and more rage to block out the fear.
He was still on his horse somehow, even among the raging battle that was taking place. He had led the charge as the dragons had been attempting to cross the Trident, bellowing orders as his men charged into the loyalist forces. It had not been a pretty battle. None of the battles in this war had been pretty. All of them had been chaotic messes that would make learned men shake their heads in the foolishness of both sides. But perhaps that was just war in of itself.
Vague shapes and colors had crossed Robert's sight. Houses and banners from all of the realm were here fighting. He knew on his side most of them were from the North. Ned had brought winter damn right. Loyal Riverlords also gave a good contribution, as did his own tattered remains of the army he led north from the Stormlands. But both were not even half the size of the northerners. Meanwhile the smallest group was that of the Vale, Jon was busy mopping up the Iron Born so they couldn't fuck the rest of them from behind.
The enemy had more men that was for sure, but not by much. All of the crownlands were here that was for sure. As well as some poor stragglers from the Battle of the Bells. Robert would always smile thinking about how Ned and Jon ravaged Connington's army that day. They had been so disorganized he practically had an easy front row seat to the battle from the Peach's windows. But now what remained of that army was with the prince. As was a worrying number of Reachmen. The Tyrells must have sent a good chunk of their forces with the royals while Mace himself headed for Storm's End. An easy job for an easy man.
Both sides were depleted from their full possible strength, while the royals had more numbers the rebels had the initiative. At the moment neither side appeared to be winning but it was hard to tell for the Lord of Storm's End. He was too bust busting skulls with his warhammer and looking for the bastard prince. That was it. The source of all this madness. Rhaegar Targaryen caused all of this by stealing away Robert's beloved. Even now as the roar of battle rang in his ears he could hear her cries of fear that night that the prince had given her that damned circle of flowers.
Then it happened. It was like a fated moment as there was a small lull in the noise but for the sound of hooves. His horse's own clopped against the stony shore of the unnamed ford they fought on. Meanwhile, Rhaegar's horse's did the same. Both men could see each other through their helmets' slits, and they stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Until finally Robert's anger won out and he charged at the prince full speed.
They never jousted once against each other. In all honesty Robert hated horse combat and jousting. Put him on his feet and a weapon in his hand any day. But he would take this. After all, this wasn't jousting. Men moved out of the way almost instinctively as a line in the fighting formed between the two leaders. No one stopped their life or death struggle to survive this battle no but not a soul would get between these two.
A clang rang out across the fighting as hammer and sword clashed when the two finally met. It was like its own disjointed song as the two continued to bash and slash at each other. The stag and the dragon fought one another amidst the chaos of battle, locked in a duel to decide the fate of the realm. Robert would make swings with his warhammer to crush the skull of the man that stole his bride to be and love of his life. With every blow nearly made he knew he was getting closer to seeing her back in his arms. Meanwhile the Prince knew that this was his destiny, and Robert was only an obstacle in that. Rhaegar would slice at any crack in the plate of the Stormlander's armor, his death would end the haze on his fated betrothed this he was sure. But after many unsuccessful blows Rhaegar ordered his horse to push forward in an opening that left Robert unable to immediately follow. But the duel wasn't finished, but it was about to end.
The Prince turned back around and readied his stead. The would be Usurper saw what was coming and did the same. The path was as clear as it had been during their fight. And both men galloped toward each other, weapons raised high as they approached. There was no trickery, no meddling in the affairs of fate here. As Robert's hammer crashed into the breastplate of Rhaegar's armor it was all finally over. Ribs cracked and organs burst, Rhaegar's sword arm went limp. His horse however was unharmed and so feeling no change in orders from its rider continued on, plowing through the crowd… taking the prince's now limp body along with it.
Robert knew it would be foolish to try and chase after the beast. It was galloping at full speed away, and soon enough likely would make it out of the melee if it wasn't taken down first. He hoped it would be, then he could find that bastard's body quickly. But already there was a shift in the air. Those that had seen the duel had seen who won and lost and were already making a frantic pull to get out. The battle was won, it just needed to be finished.
He was not dead. The light was returning back to his eyes even as the pain in his chest did not end. The usurper had bested him but not killed him. Was he now a prisoner? To be paraded about before being sent to the chopping block. The swing of the executioner's sword would bring in the next age of darkness.
"Ah, you are finally awakening." A voice, calm and gentle. Never before had Rhaegar heard such a soothing voice in his life. With a bit of a struggle the prince pulled his thoughts and mind back together enough to open his eyes and sit up.
It was not a prison cell as he had expected but instead a nondescript cave. He laid on solidly cut stone and padded with straw, his broken armor nearby and completely torn apart. Likely to get him out in a hurry to tend to his wounds. His sword was nowhere to be seen. But the center of his focus was at the man tending to the lone fire in the cave. He stood tall but his frame was gracefully thin, an air of elegance was achieved with little effort. Long golden hair that made the Lannisters own locks to shame, framing a fair face whose most notable trait being the pointed ears. Clothed in simple but fine robes of light white and gray that seemed to shine even in the low light of the cave. This man was otherworldly and put Rhaegar in an uncomfortable state of mind… that he did indeed die and was awaiting judgment.
"Just… where am I?" Fear trembled across his words. He was not ready to die, there was so much to do and so many to save. The world had to be saved from the evils of the Long Night and its Sith Heralds.
"In an abandoned bear cave on the outskirts of Saltpans." He gave an assuring smile, seemingly aware of Rhaegar's fears and settling them with his words and presence alone. There was silence for moments more with the only sound being that occasional crack of the fire as the prince's mysterious savior prodded the logs. Eventually however Rhaegar could no longer deny his curiosity and spoke again.
"Who are you sir, and how is it I am alive and free?" The Usurper's hammer had broken his ribs and the last thing that the prince could remember was the unmistakable taste of blood in his mouth. A glance at his armor told him that the hammer had bashed through the plate and did so deep. That was a fatal wound, there was no doubt about that.
"The gods have not yet abandoned this world yet my dear prince. Their power is limited but on chance they do what they can and perform miracles." Yes… that made sense. The gods clearly have always favored him and now they have done what they can to insure that their champion does not yet fall. But that still did not answer his first question. But… did it? Was this being before him one of the Seven?
"Does that mean? Could you-" Rhaegar did not finish that question as the stranger held up a hand to stop him.
"No-no. I could never be as they are. I am but a humble servant of theirs. My name is Annatar, The Bearer of Gifts. Sent by the Seven to give onto their wishes and the tools needed to carry out your destiny." So not a god but one of their angels. This could not be some insane priest convinced of some fervor induced scheme. Undeniably this was a being of higher creation sent to guide him down the right path.
"But I have failed. The Usurper defeated me; I have lost my realm to his treachery." There was no way that a great deal of time had passed since the Battle at the Trident. By now the armies of the North, Riverlands, and Stormlands must have marched on King's Landing and… ended his father's madness and taken the capital. Tywin, the opportunist he was, would declare for the rebels to secure his power. Mace and the Iron Born would fall, there was no doubt of that. And Dorne, Rhaegar knew that some level of treachery had occurred in that sandy wasteland.
"Everything has happened as the Gods knew it to be. But men have free will, a gift I gave them long ago. For what can be faith if not given from a free and sound mind?" Annatar spoke with the serenity and confidence that only an angelic being could possess. He walked away from the fire and over to a small hole in the stone wall. There he pulled out a small box, simple in its make but with the Seven Pointed Star carved into it. "Westeros has chosen its fate, to be embroiled in darkness and wickedness. A great purge will need to occur for it to be scoured clean, and such a thing can not be done by their own hands as to let the rot fester still."
"I understand." It made sense. Westeros was lost, it always had been. His ancestor Aegon should have burned it all to purge it clean and started anew. Now it was up to him to finish what had been done long ago.
"You must return back to the lands of Valyria's domain. Chain its wayward children to your will and return with fire and blood." He approached Rhaegar with the box, and opened it. Inside were nine rings, each made of blackened metal with silver lining and engraving. Each depicting a different theme with its livery. "Nine rings. Nine cities. Each must be ruled by a ring bearer that has bent the knee to Valyria's true heir."
"The Free Cities, they will never bow to an outsider." The Prince knew he should not question this messenger of the gods but the task seemed impossible. But Annatar just gave a reassuring smile as he closed the lid of the box and set it down next to Rhaegar. Then, out of thin air he held another ring. This one pure gold and immediately Rhaegar was drawn to it like nothing he had ever witnessed before. No woman, no drink or meal, or fine blade had ever filled him with such a need to possess it.
"This is my real gift to you Prince that was Promised. The One Ring, the One to Rule them All. Whoever wears this ring shall command any who wear the lesser rings. While the lesser rings will grant power to the bearers that no human could achieve normally, they are but weaklings to their master." The words reached Rhaegar but also didn't. He somehow knew what was being offered, all the details and possibilities without truly hearing Annatar's voice. His mouth felt dry and his hand was shaky as he attempted to reach out for the One Ring. He needed this. Beyond anything else he wanted it. But The Bearer of Gifts closed his hand and when Rhaegar looked up and in anger and impatience recoiled at the first look of hard disapproval on the angel's face. "This is not a gift to be taken. None are. Listen to me well, my prince."
"Y-yes… my apologies." Annatar's voice had turned cold and stern. Like a father scolding a son who always impressed him but now was just an utter failure. It hurt in ways Rhaegar didn't think possible.
"Accepted. Through shadow and light you will find in each of the Free Cities one worthy to bear a ring. They must be capable of body and mind, preferably of some marshal talent and unquestionably the leader of their respective city. They do not need to be publicly supporting you, but do not worry as the Rings will insure their loyalty." There Annatar unceremoniously dropped the One Ring onto the ground and walked away. Rhaegar could not control himself and scrambled to the ground despite the biting pain in his chest at the sudden movement. But it was all worth it once he had the ring in his hand.
"It's so beautiful." It was so simply designed but perfect in every way. But touching gave him a better idea of its draw, it practically thrummed with power. This was a true gift of the divine. A mark proving just how much the gods favored him.
"Along with these gifts and the mission on how to use them, three additional tasks have been set for you." The tone was now neutral, no longer the warm soothing cadence it had been in the beginning but the edge was lost. It still felt like Rhaegar had disappointed the herald. The prince silently vowed to prove that Annatar's faith was not misplaced. "In the city of Qohor, the Smith resides. You are to find him."
"The Smith himself? On this world among the rest of humanity?" That was a revelation worthy of an entire rethinking of all the Faith knew of their gods.
"Yes, a punishment for a transgression you need not concern yourself with. He has no memory of his divine nature but he is there. Find him, and acquire a set of armor worthy of your destiny." A god that did not know of his own godliness? How would he find him then, Qohor was a city widely known for its great smiths and so searching for the one true Smith would be a great challenge indeed. But that was the point. He was the Prince who was Promised and so no great thing would come easy. "Second is that of the Warrior."
"To train under him, yes?" Rhaegar thought that maybe he overstepped but was thankful that Annatar's face did not change a bit.
"No. The Warrior has suffered from the Curse of Guilt for many eons now. He is a shadow of what he once was. His blade however, you must conquer it. You will find the Warrior's cave in the lands of Andalos and outside it rests The Wrathful. I believe that you alone have the strength to pick it up." And he would, such a blade would be perfect to end the evils of the Sith. Rhaegar was concerned however. From all he had just learned it seemed that the relations between the Seven were not so harmonious. But that was the domain of the divine, all he could do was listen and carry out their will as destiny dictated.
"And the last task?"
"A judge of character, find a crown. Any crown will do. What you decide will be what rests upon your head as monarch of the world, it will inform the gods of just how worthy you truly are." The angel gave one last faint smile before turning and starting towards the exit of the cave.
"Wait!" He couldn't help himself again, this was the first time he ever felt truly validated so irrefutable. Even in his surest moments there had been a lingering doubt. That thought that maybe he was as mad as his father and all he had done was for nothing but insanity. But now he was beyond such doubts. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Yes, I will visit you when the gods have decided it is needed and when they believe it is time for you to begin your crusade on Westeros. Do not return to this land until that time. You are too valuable to be potentially killed by the machinations of the servants of evil whom now dwell here." To not return was but a small price to pay and it would not be forever. He was still quite young and with this ring he knew that his prime would be extended. Rhaegar now had time to prepare and gather the allies he needed to purge Westeros of its evil.
Annatar then left without another word and Rhaegar was left alone with his thoughts and the gifts he had been granted. Slowly, he looked back down to his hand and the ring that lay in it. His breath was heavy as he picked it up and his hand trembled as he slid it onto his middle finger. Immediately all the pain that had been a background noise at this meeting was gone. He felt strong, his mind cleared and focused on all around him. Yes. This was power. The power to carry out the destiny he had known to be his since he was a child. And it was gifted to him by the gods themselves.
"Such a small thing that must be cherished. A precious gift." Rhaegar stared at it wrapped around his finger, unknown to him time passed into several hours before he stopped.
Author's Notes
Next chapter we shall finish the Rebellion And the aftermath of it. Then, I have something neat for you guys. Naraiz is finally going to fix the Maiden problem now that he no longer needs to be directly overseeing things. Learned his lesson the first time. Then it's back up to space but this time it's with Fay and Rathari and their Neophyte field trips to space. That will be neat.
Reviews
RonaldM40196857 - yes and no
Monkeylikespie - I looked up that world, while interesting I don't think the local population is suitable for Imperial citizenship. Thank you for the suggestion.
Guest - Thank you for defending me but my policy is to only read the reviews of the latest chapter so I filter out a lot of the shitposters that way.