Winterfell -Robb

"Dark wings, dark words." Maester Luwin said, rubbing his chin.

Robb couldn't help but agree with Maester Luwin. He set the letter to the side of his father's desk. My desk until he returns. But that would be some time, it seemed, considering how father had been named Regent of the Iron Throne while King Robert gallivanted off to the East in hopes of glory. Fathers place was in Winterfell. Not in some den of corruption like Kings Landing.

The North is where he belonged.

Theon, his trusted companion, laughed. "A time for us to prove our worth. We shall redden our blades."

Maester Luwin frowned.

The letter brought father's commands. Rally the banners, Robb. We march to keep the Kings Peace. Robb imagined father's somber voice as he read out his commands. Some fear pierced his heart at the thought of war. Was he ready for it? Ser Rodrick had taught him how to fight with sword and lance. He had learned lessons from father and Maester Luwin on how to lead men off to battle, but lessons were one thing and actually doing was another. Robb knew he was afraid as he struggled to keep his hand from shaking. A man can only be brave if he's afraid. It filled with strength and resolve. His veins turned to ice as he used his lordly voice. "We shall summon the banners and I shall lead the host from Winterfell down the Kings Road." He declared.

"Lord Robb." Maester Luwin said whitening. "You could send another man."

Theon scoffed. "Typical maester, offering gutless counsel. He is the Heir of Winterfell. Men would laugh at him in their cups if he remained."

"Your father did not command this of you, Lord Robb. You need not go. A more experienced lord may be a prudent option. The Lord Umber is a skilled man of war or the Lord of Karhold. Both fought for your father during Roberts Rebellion."

Throw the burden of leadership onto another? Trust Northman lives with one of fathers vassals. How can I ask them to die if I'm not willing to do the same? "I'm the Heir of Winterfell and I shall not hide behind these grey walls like some boy hiding behind his mother's skirts."

"And your brother?"

"I have not forgotten of Rickon." Robb replied. It was hard to forget him when he and his wolf were causing mayhem throughout the courtyard. Grey Wind struggled to keep Shaggydog tamed when he lashed out. Ever since mother departed, he had been a nightmare. Rickon hugged his leg every waking moment like a pup. "A Stark must always be in Winterfell. I entrust him with your care until my lady mother returns from the capital."

Theon smiled and threw his arm around him. "It's the right choice, Robb." Some doubt swirled in his chest, but he had committed himself. Maester Luwin dipped his bald head and went to the ravenry to send off the call. A call for the North to answer. A call of fire and steel. He would be a boy no longer. At least Theon would march south with him. I wish Jon could join us as well. But he was off with King Robert as a knight in the Kingsguard. When the letters from his sister arrived baring that news, he let out a loud whoop and, in a mad frenzy, screamed at any that would listen. "My brother is a knight of the Kingsguard! He did it! He's clad all in white!" Robb had been wrong in thinking black would be his color. He got some looks as he dashed around, with Grey Wind at his heels, who joined him with a loud howl that woke the dead. It was a high honor for Jon, but he could use his brother in this conflict.

"Are you scared?" Theon asked.

Robb didn't bother to mask his fear as his hand shook. "Good." He told him.

"Good?" Robb said puzzled.

"It means you aren't stupid."

The following days made him wish for the days before father's message arrived. Robb had thought running Winterfell as acting lord was challenging and time-consuming with a thousand tasks to occupy his time. But preparing Winterfell for a host was a different battle in its entirety. The stores had to be shored up to support thousands of men. Forges hammered days and nights, forging swords and shields, and he had to oversee all of the household with them all nipping at his heels for his ear. Everything is important to them and there is only one of me. He walked around the yard and halls with naked steel at his hip and watched as men were drilled in the courtyard. Often he joined them. Father had taken the best guardsmen south with him, and they were still drilling the boys who replaced them. It's slower going without Ser Rodrick, but Hallis does a fine enough job. A cold sweat beaded down his forehead as he watched from the bailey. "Lord Robb." Othor said, his cheeks a rosy red from the cold. "Men of the Nights Watch have arrived seeking your audience."

"My uncle?" Robb asked with hope.

Othor shook his head. It would have been too good to be true. Uncle Benjen could have offered him some much needed counsel, but he nodded and departed to the Great Hall. Men of the Night Watch were always welcome in Winterfell, and he would show them every courtesy. Robb sat himself on his fathers high seat and straightened. Maester Luwin's hands disappeared into his long overflowing robes. Theon was to the right of him wearing an amused smile as the rough featured men of the Nights Watch strolled in. One of them, named Yoren, introduced himself and his company.

Robb commanded the steward to prepare rooms for them in the castle. "You shall eat with myself and my brother at our table. A hot meal before you continue south."

They offered thanks.

Dinner was prepared for them. Simple hot soup with chicken and peas, crunchy bread, and some ale to wash it down. Strong, bitter northern ale that burned the throat. Underneath the table, Grey Wind and Shaggydog gnawed on a bone as Rickon stabbed his bread as if it were his foe. "Sorry to say, my lord, but your Uncle Benjen has disappeared. He has yet to return from a ranging."

Robb stiffened at his tone. He thinks him dead. "He'll be back!" Uncle Benjen wasn't dead anymore than Jon or his father were. He saw the lips of Maester Luwin turn down and the disappointment was clear even to him, but they shouldn't have said his uncle was dead.

One of the Night Watchmen said. "Benjen Stark could return. He is a good man and a fine ranger."

"Maybe." Yoren agreed, wiping away smudges of food with his sleeves. "But sometimes good men are swallowed whole by the woods and never return. I've seen it happen before."

"None of them are coming back!" Rickon screamed. "Gone! Gone! All of them are gone."

Robb sighed at the outburst as Shaggydog followed his master's mood and grew irate. It was a mistake to invite Rickon to this dinner. He motioned for Maester Luwin to take him away to bed. "Come Lord Rickon," He soothed. "Old Nan shall read you a story."

"I don't want a story! I want mother! Father! Jon! I want them back!" And stormed off with Shaggydog hot on his heels to gods know where. I shall have to have words with him. When he was gone in the South, Rickon would be the Stark in Winterfell. An uncomfortable silence fell over them and Yoren snorted.

"At least you Starks aren't dull." He scooped up a spoonful of his stew and Robb chuckled. When the pack was whole, these halls were loud and filled with laughter. He recalled the pranks and arguments held in these halls. Now it's just me and Rickon. Soon it'll only be Rickon and he'll curse him along with the rest. But he had to go South as father once did during Roberts Rebellion. South with twenty thousand Northman to drag the Old Lion and the Fat Rose off one another like the errant children they were. The prospect of the southern campaign weighed heavily on his mind as the doors opened and Hallis approached him and whispered news that freezed his veins as cold as ice.

"Yoren." Robb said. "You did not mention that you traveled with a Lannister." The mood in the halls shifted as Theon glared daggers at the Watchmen.

"Didn't think it relevant." Yoren replied bluntly.

Tyrion Lannister Tywins own flesh and blood was off, enjoying himself at the Inn in Wintertown with some woman in his bed. Tywin Lannister breaks the peace and I have his son so close to my roof. He twisted towards Hallis. "Take two dozen men and have Lord Tyrion brought before me in chains."

"Aye my lord." Halis vowed.

"Let me take part in the hunt, Robb." Theon declared. "I won't fail you."

Robb shook his head. He knew Theon would be too rash and may harm Lord Tyrion. A dead Lannister would be no use to him. He begged his leave from the Nights Watchmen and went to father's solar to await Hallis. He waited longer than he thought he would when Hallis entered and shoved the Imp to the cold floor. "My apologies, my lord. He had already fled the Inn. We had to chase his party down the road." The chains wrapped around him weighed almost as much as he did. A wild lion brought before him. He rose with an arrogant smile on his face. "Your quiet guardsman didn't say the reason for my treatment. Tell me, boy, the reason for this injustice." He knows more than he says.

He didn't answer him as Grey Wind entered, snarling, smelling the Lannister no doubt. He nipped at Lord Tyrions crimson sleeves, tearing the fabric and sending the Lannister to the ground. A small puddle forming. "Call off your wolf Stark!"

"To me Grey Wind."

Grey Wind left with one last snarl and placed himself at his feet. He never took his eyes off Lord Tyrion. It was a strange creature, his Grey Wind. The wolves were smarter than most beasts, and he didn't understand why they acted the way they did. Does he sense something in a mans heart? Does he know Lord Tyrion is false? Or is it something else? Robb wondered. Lord Tyrion picked himself up and held a prideful look undaunted by the chains. "To answer your question, Lannister. Your father has broken the Kings Peace and you shall remain as our guest until the wars end."

"You mean a hostage boy." Lord Tyrion said with a sly smile.

Robb ignored him. "You shall be afforded a room according to your rank and status so long as you behave."

"Or you'll send little old me to the cells." He rankled his chains. "Are these necessary?"

"They'll be removed once you are escorted to your room."

Lord Tyrion studied him, and Robb misliked the way his mismatched eyes looked him over. "And why has my dear lord father rebelled?" Robb was tempted to tell him of the war between the Reach and Westerlands, but it would be unwise to tell him anything of note. His eyes struck him as intelligent, and he would not wish to be led astray by Lannister cunning.

"Hallis." He called. "Take Lord Tyrion to his quarters. No one is to speak with him save by my leave."

Eyrie – Tommen

"I want to hear!" Bran nudged him with his elbow.

"Stop pushing me!" Adrian hissed.

Jon whispered. "Quiet!"

All of his fellow ward mates were pressed against the door, trying to hear what was being discussed on the other end. A few moments ago they were in the courtyard enjoying a beautiful day in the Eyrie. Adrian and Bran were arguing as they always did, but it was almost friendly ribbing by this point. Over time, they had made some sort of peace with the other. Both were more similar than they cared to admit. It was Jon who noticed Ser Brynden being greeted with Maester Colemon in the courtyard before disappearing to the Tower of the Falcon. Jon Waynwood always observed things well. Word from the capital. Tommen remembered them agreeing it had to be. All of them wish to hear what had arrived. A rare day, all four of us in agreement.

Unfortunately, Ser Arys proved a problem watching them like a hawk. Tommen still felt sheepish about how they squirreled past his watchful protector. I'll be cleaning the stables for weeks. Mayhaps months! Thankfully, the Arryns didn't have a whipping boy like mother used, otherwise he never would have agreed to any of this. Somehow all of them looked to him as the leader of this little band, especially after news was sent of his father departing for the East. Adrian and Bran often disagreed with one another fiercely as a matter of principle, and Jon was eerie quiet. He was the only one who could forge some agreement amongst them.

Tommen shoved back against Bran as he pressed his ear against the oak frame, repeating every word back to them.

"The banners will have to be summoned."

"I fear so ser. Dark days for the Realm. I-"

He couldn't hear anything more. They stopped talking, but why would the banners be summoned? "What do you mean, they stopped?" Bran tried to force his way in between them as the door flung open and all of them fell forward, limbs entangled into a squirming pile. Adrians boot was in his face and his arm was pinned underneath Jon and Bran. Tommen looked up and gulped at the Blackfish glaring down at them.

"A bunch of errant squires." Ser Brynden snorted and picked them up by their collars. "Far from the courtyard where they belong."

Tommen blushed sheepishly. "It is my fault ser for us being here." The price of leadership is taking responsibility. Lord Arryn had taught him that. A good prince had to take responsibility for his misdeeds and seek to maintain his honor.

"He's a liar!" Bran declared. "It was my fault, not Tommens."

"Don't listen to Stark, I'm to blame." Adrian said.

Even Jon raised his voice. "None of them speaks the truth. I'm to blame."

Ser Brynden shook his head. "Is that so?" He said with a dry voice, not believing a word any of them said. "Where is Ser Arys? And where is that wolf of yours, boy?" All of them shifted around, unwilling to look the Blackfish in the eye. He even made Bran wilt underneath his stony gaze, who lost his wolfish courage. Tommen lifted his head up. "Well." He coughed. "We used Dawn to distract Ser Arys. He pulled on his cloak with his teeth." Tommen didn't understand how Dawn seemed to know what Bran wanted. It was a strange creature. Jon told him that direwolves were strange mystical creatures from the days of Heroes. "I'd imagine he'll be on his way-"

He was interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing and metallic boots striking the floor. "Ser Brynden!" The red face Ser Arys exclaimed, barging into the room as if they were under siege."We need to find-" And eyed them and saw the guilty looks and sheepish expressions and his expression hardened. Panic replaced with firm disappointment.

"Troubles watching your charge?" Ser Brynden chuckled.

Ser Arys grimaced. "I only looked away for a moment."

Ser Brynden patted him on the shoulder. "Don't feel too bad. Keeping track of four hellions is challenging. One moment they are there, and the next moment they are passed the Bloody Gate and on the open road." He turned his gaze against them. "Now what shall we do with the four of you?"

"Why are the banners being summoned?" Jon piped up.

And Tommen almost grinned for his shrewdness as Ser Arys blinked. " Banners? Does the lad speak honestly, Ser Brynden?" His Knight of Oak narrowed his eyes warily.

Maester Colemon chose this moment to interject. "Yes, word has arrived from Lord Arryn. The Lannisters are setting the Reach aflame, and the Tyrell banners were already summoned and are engaging the Lannister forces."

"For what reason?" Ser Arys asked.

When Maester Colemon had finished explaining the tale, Tommen felt ill. His Grand Uncle poisoned and Lady Margaery had lost her ear. It wasn't right to cut off a woman's ear. Joffrey would have enjoyed that sort of thing. Tommen struggled to recall what Ser Kevan looked like, but still he wished to weep for him. And now his father's realm would be torn apart. It was stupid! My realm bleeds. Something burned in his chest and he wanted to scream, but there was nothing he could do. From the hidden grins and shared smiles, the thought of war and battle excited his friends. But Tommen felt little but dread at the thought of killing anyone. He didn't even like the hunt. Training was one thing. He enjoyed that, but killing something that lives felt wrong. Joffrey would have smiled at the mere thought of dealing with traitors.

They were escorted back to their rooms. No supper for the evening as punishment, but his friends didn't care. Tales of adventure on their mans as they imagined themselves, like the noble knights Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan the Bold. When Lord Arryn marched with the strength of the Vale behind him, they would follow him as dutiful squires. He apologized to Ser Arys as they walked back. His protector gave a stiff nod of his head as they all got ready in their beds.

"Is it possible peace could be achieved through the pen?" Tommen asked, already ready for bed, his thumbs rubbing against his pant legs.

"Why would you want peace?" Bran replied, annoyed. "This is a chance of a lifetime to show our courage and bravery to act like knights!"

"For once Stark is right!" Adrian wrapped his muscular arms around the two of them. "It'll be glorious!"

Jon considered it and shrugged. "Unlikely. It'll come to the sword to end this conflict." And Jon understood these political matters better than any of them. The Waynwood boy read more books than even Bran.

Tommen scowled and brushed Adrian's hand off. None of them understand anything! It was his realm, and his subjects were going to be dying. It wasn't some game. "No one should die!" He yelled at them, throwing himself back on his bed wrapping himself underneath the sheets. His skin flushed with embarrassment as they all looked at him with worry or pity.

Bran was taken aback by his outburst. "Whats the matter Tom?"

Tommen thought of many things that were the matter. His future realm would bleed, and he couldn't stop it. He may have to kill someone on the field and he didn't want to kill anyone. But mainly he was alone. The crown would be a heavy thing. Even father the Demon of the Trident couldn't bare the Iron Throne. How could he? The spare who would become king.

"My realm burns and I'm alone. I have no brothers to help me." He mumbled.

Bran snorted. "Of course you do Tom. I name you a brother proudly!" He said with honest conviction. Tommen rose from his armor of blankets. Bran would never lie over something like this. Adrian and Jon were at his side. Adrian even held a solemn look on his normally gregarious face.

"When you become king. All of us will help you, my prince. On our honor. We shall start this day."

"On our honor." Jon repeated.

They promised they had forged a strong brotherhood here in the Eyrie. It ended his feeling of melancholy as he smiled, feeling some hope for the first time. "You will be our king one day." Bran said, some mischief in his eyes that had Tommen puzzled. "But today you are just a squire like the rest of us!" and smacked him with a pillow. Tommen grinned and replied in kind as straw and feathers flew as they laughed and Dawn howled into the evening.

Storms End – Margaery

Two guardsmen stood outside her room clad in steel, per Lord Renly's command. Her room was in the sole large drum tower of Storms End that towered over the skyline like a close fist reaching to the heavens. It was filled with the castle's granaries, library, armory, and all the apartments for the lord and rooms for esteemed guests. A behemoth of solid gray stone. Over a hundred men sworn to the Lord of Storms End lived in the tower during the day and still she felt unsafe. A shiver went through her as ghosts haunted her. My constant companions as they were in life. She could hear the voices echoing in her ear. Soft Elinor's lullaby voice tormenting her. Her voice would sing no more. Alla's tongue cursing her and her ambition. Mira, the sweet northern girl, smiled and forgave her while kind Mega wept.

Margaery couldn't sleep well. Nightmares visited her while the dead haunted her during the day. My life is a nightmare. She mused bitterly. She had been stripped of her beauty, a rose whose petals had been removed, leaving only a stem. A grotesque creature easily discarded like some used doll. Some days she swore on the Seven that she could feel her fingers still. A phantom of feeling like the gentle kiss of a ghost. But they were gone. Stolen by a Lannister as they stole Loras from her with a swing of the sword, changing her life forever. She requested gloves and headscarves when she arrived to hide her missing limbs, but Lord Renly forbade them both. "I need everyone to see how crippled they made you."

It made sense, but she disliked the way the arriving lords gawked at her. I'm damaged goods in their eyes. A woman's greatest attribute was her beauty, and she had been made less than whole and her betrothed was milking it for everything it was worth. Every feast she attended in the great halls, she suffered them. Tonight I shall suffer them as well. She would bind herself in marriage to Lord Renly, uniting Storms End and Highgarden together. But she would never be a queen in their eyes. Men would fight for her virtue. Men would fight to avenge her, but she was less now than she had been before. "The War for Lady Margaery's Ear." She had heard a singer say during a feast. It made her wish to strangle him, but she merely smiled and clapped.

I've suffered much, but I want that crown. I want them to see me as the Queen.

Thanks to the Lannister boy, she may never achieve her dream, but she soothed herself with thoughts of revenge. The Reach and the Stormlands would lay the Lannisters low and groveling. Maybe father could take Lord Tywins ear for me? Though she would prefer the queen's ear. Her hand was all over this. That bitch had done this, but was protected by the Crown she wore on her head and the men of honor who protected her for it. Arryn and Stark. My crown. She drowned in a sea of bitterness. It burned her to the core as she wanted to strangle the life out of the harlot until her eyes popped out. She thought of this as she braided her hair.

The sound of footsteps approaching startled her and her hands shook violently as fear lodged deep in her throat. "Mi lady." A servant bowed. "Lord Renly awaits you at the Sept." She made no comment on her shaking hands or pale skin.

"Thank you, Lelia." Margaery replied sweetly. She still learned all the names of everyone she met. A simple gesture that won friends. She wore lovely ivory silk and Myrish lace, her skirts decorated with floral patterns picked out in seed pearls. A beautiful wedding dress, but she badly wished to wear the headscarf and the gloves. Still, she forgoed both for Renly's wishes. They escorted her to the sept where sweet flagrance greeted her; the aroma of incense as the light filtered down through the high windows spewing forth a sea of color. At the altar, her husband stood powerfully built with a firm jaw and bright eyes, wearing a handsome gold and black doublet. All the Stormlands lay crowded in the pews, gawking at her. Margaery tightened her hold around her escort, Ser Penrose, whom acted in place of her father to hand her off to Lord Renly. Hundreds of maidens would be thrilled to become the Lady of Storms End, but she wouldn't be satisfied with only the second best.

I shall be Queen. The Queen.

The ghosts that haunted her cursed her ambition, but she knew in her heart it's what she was born for. Born to be a perfect queen.

The septon smiled kindly as he motioned for Lord Renly to remove her maiden cloak from her shoulders and placed the black and gold of House Baratheon around her.

He did so

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband"

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife."

"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever" The septon droned on and the entire sept erupted into cheers.

"You look beautiful, my sweet lady." Lord Renly said.

Margaery demurred and giggled. "Thank you, Lord Husband. I find you most handsome as well." If only he spoke the truth. It was a lie, he was repulsed by her. It'll mean siring an heir more challenging, but she would be creative. There would be plenty of sword swallowers in the Reach loyal to House Tyrell. It would allow them to grow their thorns into him.

"Shall we dance?" Lord Renly offered.

"Lead on, my lord." Margaery danced with him for a time, their movements perfect as she felt like a queen as they danced. Sophisticated and in control. She didn't step on his toes once as she was pawned off to dance with other lords. She danced with Ser Balon Swann, whom praised her beauty as brilliant as the dawn. Lord Selwyn of Tarth danced with her as well. An older man that still held some grace in his movements. She danced with Lord Buckler and his heir. Both were terrible dancers, but she said nothing. Even little Edric Storm puffed up his chest and asked for her favor. Bolder than most bastards. Edric Storm was a perfect lie to see the Crown fell to her, but Lannister cunning had dealt that dead by killing Loras. It tainted the claim they would argue as fruit from the poisonous tree. She didn't show any bitterness she felt in her chest and kissed him on the cheek when they were done.

"LETS BED THEM!" a very drunk Lord Bryce Caron said as the cry was answered by dozens of throats.

"BED THEM! BED THEM! BED THEM!"

Lord Renly raised his hands up in surrender. "Very well, my friends. I see some of you are eager to see me naked. No idea what that says of you." He japed. "Let us start the bedding."

Clothes were ripped from her body. Rough hands squeezed her flesh between thighs and arse as they ripped off her dress and carried her off. It would be the most love she would get this night, as Renly would not touch her.

I'm an ambitious creature and I'll suffer for it.

No, Margaery knew. I'm a vengeful creature now and the Lannisters would know that when they drowned them in their halls.

They were not the only house that repaid its debts.

For Loras. Alla. Mira. Megga. And Elinor.

Justice for the ghosts that haunted her.

Pentos- Jaime

Joffrey was dead.

And Jaime found he cared little. The boy was not his son, but only his seed. Cersei had made sure he was rarely in the same room as the boy, less anyone to question his birth. After spending several months with the boy, it was bound to happen that he would be killed. Joffrey was not right in the head. Harming his own sister. He had neither harmed Cersei nor Tyrion. Jaime thought. The boy showed no remorse for any of it only speaking of punishing his traitorous brother and his whore of a sister. Every day in Pentos it had been a miracle they had kept his head on his shoulders. When fathers men turned on them, he saved his life and cut a path straight through them as a knife cuts through butter. Jaime felt alive with a sword in hand. No one could beat him. Jaime was happy despite Joffrey being an ungrateful little shit about it, whining and whimpering the entire time like a scared girl. It was a miracle neither him, nor Clegane killed him. Jaime almost gave him up then, but for Cersei he tried to keep the boy alive. It was then as he stood triumphant over the corpses of a dozen men, something bit him on the neck it felt like some horsefly as his vision darkened.

When he woke at the campsite on the outskirts of the city. Joffrey was dead, and Clegane was unconscious.

"Ah, good you're up, Lannister." A slender man with olive skin told him. "You should be thankful I've decided against killing you, as an old friend requested of us."

His hands remained bound with tight knots that chaffed his skin raw. "You know who I am." Jaime said casually and rose to his feet. "My father will pay handsomely for my safe return." Home to Cersei. They could always make another Joffrey. Daggers pressed into the softness of his neck as they shoved him down. Clegane was out cold as they wrapped his arms and legs in heavier chains. Only metal chains could hold a Clegane.

The slender man, missing half his teeth, smiled. "Ah, but we wouldn't live long after receiving such a reward. The Old Lion would hunt us down for capturing his prodigal son."

"Smart man." Jaime said. "But considering I'm alive, you wish me for something."

The portly man with a golden ring in his nose punched him in the gut. Jaime offered a lazy smile in reply. "Why are you smiling?" He asked.

"I want to recognize your face when we meet again."

A blow would have struck him, but the slender man grabbed him. "But Havi-"

"No Cleon. Him and his big friend shall prove cash cows and you don't hurt cash cows. It's bad for business." He smiled. "Still, we wouldn't want anyone to recognize him before we sell him or his friend to the Pits of Yunkai."

Jaime's lips moved to barter for his freedom when they shoved him face first to the ground. A dagger cut off patches of his golden hair as they shaved his golden mane. My hair, they are shaving my hair.

"Without your hair. No one will know you to be a Lannister Westerosi."

And Jaime agreed with them.

Authors note: So I got to this point and I realized the next two POVS in Highgarden and Casterly Rock were going to be lengthy so I figured it would be best to push it off for the next chapter. Next up we'll see the opening moves of the War for Margaery's Ear and Jasper will finish up in Kings Landing and shall depart for the Vale. As always I love to see reviews and to reply to them! I have a lot of fun writing this!

Freedmoon: Yeah, I love changing things pushing things in new and cool ways. It's fanfic it's suppose to be a little fun! I've had the idea of Robert going on the East in a Crusade like form with him being the 'Chosen One' I thought it would be controversial though cause I was taking a plotline from Stannis the Mannis! I think robert is going to have a few tricks up his sleeves to manage the PR better than Stannis did! My favorite part writing it though was FLyanna though. Robert is going to be so motiviated. He is like Opphesus the Greek Hero going into the underworld to get his wife back. Often enough most people don't do anything exciting with Mel when she does have power and her power level isn't explained given people a lot of freedom. Most people do the (In my opinion) dull and cynical strat of saying she is a con artist. I like to lean on some of her magical elements though!

Robert could have his own story of his Essosi adventure. I also have a plotline for Jamie in my mind aswell which I'll be starting next chapter. I will mainly focus on Westeros, but I'll be jumping back to Essos to follow Roberts/ Jamies storylines and inevitably getting to Dany.

Guest: That would certainly be interesting having the Mannis go East, but I don't think Robert would want to spend a lot of time around his grumpkin of a brother. Glad you enjoyed it though!

7thManaic: I'm in the camp that Robert loves the idea of Lyanna. He loved her cause he wanted to be close with Ned. I tried to put that in with him listing some of things he wanted from her kids with Neds long face. And yeah it is hypcritcal, but he would certainly lift mountains for her. I do think if Robert and Lyanna did get married Robert would have tried more for her. He would still sleep around, but it would be less. He would try to control himself at the least cause he doesn't want to shame Neds sister. It would be a better marriage than Cersei who is pretty much the worst person for Robert to marry.