Margaery
Joffrey seven times cursed. We had the money, we could have started paying the Iron Bank. Everyone recommended it.
He refused and ordered a fleet to be built to destroy his uncle, and has remained steadfast ever since we heard the news of Stannis's landing in the North.
An envoy came, and in one of his great displays of power, Joffrey threw him out like a dog; he only brought us more enemies. He thought the gold from the Rock would always be enough to pay for his capricious acts.
Lord Tiryon was the most vocal. He and Joffrey fought constantly, and even Lord Twin found it difficult to control his grandson.
Then it happened... he fell ill from an infected cut on the Iron Throne.
When I was a little girl, I used to visit my great-uncle Garth's garden. He would hold my hand, laugh and tell me happy stories, but he would also warn me. "Don't eat anything from here, little flower, these plants aren't good for you.
"Are there many poisonous plants here, granduncle?". I asked him and the big man smiled.
"Darling, can I tell you a secret?". He said gently and I nodded excitedly. "Everything here is poisonous, often not the way you see it, but just a little bit of something else and..." Great-uncle Garth faked a faint to my delight.
It was easy to see how Joffrey liked to make extravagant gestures on the throne. It was easy to watch him cut himself, and even easier to ask a trusted servant to apply a prepared substance to the throne's blades.
It wouldn't work on its own, but in contact with the maester's poultice? It made Joffrey stiff, his muscles tense and he couldn't release. The food wouldn't go down his throat, his bones broke with the strength of his muscles.
It was fun to see him suffer. The only one who really seemed to care was his mother, no one would miss him, not really.
I held his hand on the bed and stroked it gently. "Everything will be fine, my love." I said lovingly and hir green eyes turned to me angrily.
He didn't speak, he couldn't, but he understood very well. I smiled at him, knowing that.
"When you die, I will mourn, I will always be accompanied and everyone will see that I don't carry your child in my womb. Then I will marry the sweet, young and malleable Tommem."
Joffrey's eyes widened and his breathing quickened, but I continued to smile and moved closer to his ear.
"Your cousin was much more of a man than you, you know? He made me scream on the bed". I spoke softly and Joffrey tried to fight back. "He put a child in my womb the only time we were together. I hope your brother is as good boy, but I'll have time to teach him how to be. I'll have time to teach him not to be you."
I kissed hir forehead and stroked hir hair lovingly. I left the room and returned to my chambers. Let him try to suffer more and more.
Sitting in front of my mirror, I gave a genuine smile for the first time in many moons, and I would certainly give more after burying the seven times cursed Joffrey.
If this is the path we take, then let's make it the best one for us. I thought of my grandmother's words as we finally put everything into action.
Orryn
The Northern Mountains
"A prince no less. Isn't that interesting, Norrey?". The old Torghen Flint, a man of small stature but with strong arms and hands, joked with the others.
"I don't think we've ever had a royal visit that wasn't from a Winter King, and not on good terms." Brandon Norrey replied. A tall, slender old man, he had a fragile appearance but a cunning look in his eyes. 'An old fox', I thought.
"Surely, you were young when you saw the last Winter King, weren't you, Lord Norrey?". I asked boldly, and the old man stiffened.
"Do you really think I'm 300 years old, you diaper shitter?". He grumbled, and the old Flint dropped his stick to the ground, laughing.
"You must be to old, Norrey, if you can't take a joke from that boy. We can even smell the milk on him! Ha!".
"The milk of the poppy you mean, with a cut like that on your face." Norrey scoffed. "Did you cut yourself when you shaved off the three strands of beard on your face?".
"No, I was hurt when my uncles betrayed me. It's okay, I still led 15,000 men to victory." I shrugged.
"Can we stop wasting time here?" Hugo Wull grumbled, flattening his large belly. "We've got Ironborn to fuck and Boltons right after that."
We were all sitting around a large table in the castle of the First Flints. It was a solid, squat fortress with many parts carved from the rocks of a broken mountain, hence its name, Broken Stone Mountain.
The heads of the clans had all come, all forty of them, but only the representatives of the largest clans sat at the table. The Flints, the Norreys, the Wulls, the Burleys, the Liddles and the Knotts.
They were all older lords, they were all hard men ready for battle, they all wanted the blood of those who had betrayed the North, betrayed 'Ned', they said.
"As much as I like it, Wull, we can't just attack Winterfell. Roose could hurt Ned's daughter, and we need to get her out of the hands of that disgusting bastard of his." Flint grumbled, clenching his big hands.
"I told you, Arya Stark has been with us since the war began. Lord Eddard's supposed daughter is a fake." I said it so everyone would listen, but I only received skeptical looks.
"So you say." Hugo Wull said, crossing his arms, and many nods of agreement followed.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment before speaking again. "When I was in the capital, Lord Eddard was a teacher to me, he taught me a lot. I warned him of the dangers he might encounter, but he bravely faced them. Not without first guiding me to flee back to the North with his two daughters.
I paused for a moment before speaking again. "I swore to him that I would... and that was the only promise I couldn't keep. Not because I didn't want to, but because they wouldn't let me. The Lannisters ambushed us outside the harbor and a battle broke out. I lost good men that day, men I left behind.
I looked at each of the old men at the table and felt a small twitch in the muscles of my face, which happened more and more when I got nervous.
"Arya was small and thin, easy to carry. I almost threw her on the ship like a sack of potatoes. But Lady Sansa didn't...she panicked facing such violence...the Lannisters captured her and I couldn't do anything." He said, clenching his hands.
"So Arya was always with you... is that what you claims?" Norrey asked, his eyes meeting mine.
"Yes, she's always been with us and has always been treated very well. She's a friend of my sister's, best friends I would say." I said with a smile. "But I don't need you to believe me, I can prove it."
"And what proof would that be?" Flint asked.
"Arya herself will be at Castle Black with my mother and sister. Whether you've met the girl or not, I think you've accepted her brother's confirmation, haven't you? From Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow, just as you know the wolf's blood is strong in the girl, she is not easily controlled."
"If Snow vouches for her, that changes some things..." Norrey said, leaning back in his chair.
"I propose the following, your men will accompany me to fight the Ironborn. Lord Flint and Lord Norrey, if you will excuse me, can go and see for themselves due to their advanced age." I offered, and small murmurs came from the corners.
"It looks good to me. My hands are still strong, but this old bowl won't lead me to victory in battle." Brandon Norrey joked.
"What about the wildlings? Are you really going to let them through?" Torghen Flint asked, and the mood in the room cooled again.
"Yes, we do." I spoke directly. "We've captured Mance Ryder, and we're trying to make a deal with the tribes that followed Tormund Giantsbane. The dreaded Thenns, led by Sigorn, have already bowed the knee to us."
A mocking snort was my answer. "What about Weeper? There are tribes that have followed him, aren't there?".
"Yes... Val informed us of that. Less than we expected, more than we would have liked." I admitted fearlessly. "We need them, we need their numbers, we need them on this side of the wall or we will lose the war against the others..." I admitted fearlessly.
"The Others? Like in children's stories?" Hugo Wull scoffed and several laughs followed.
"One more thing Lord Flint will have to confirm then..." He said seriously.
"If what you said is true... and the wildlings are necessary, we can think about it. But the Weeper... I don't accept that monster on this side of the wall." Flint said with venom in his voice, he really hated the trespasser known as the Weeper.
"We have already had our quota of women stolen and raped by him and his kind. He never takes them to the other side, you know. He makes them blind, cuts out their tongues and leaves them to die...". Norrey added macabrely.
I thought about what I could do, what path I could take. My father and Jon have to deal with this... but I have to do something...".
"Bring me some parchment and ink, please. I asked politely and a servant brought it to me. I wrote the letter in my own handwriting, signed it and, as soon as the ink was dry, read it aloud. "I, Prince Orryn Baratheon, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, make this proclamation. The wildling known as the Weeper, and all the tribes that follow him, are now enemies and will be shown no mercy. May his head adorn a stake at the top of the Wall".
From inside my armor I pulled out a necklace. It was a ring attached to a silver chain, it was always on my chest and never on my finger, it was my personal seal.
I poured the wax and marked the letter to confirm the authenticity. I looked at the other lords, solemnity was on their faces.
"Could you mark the letter, Lord Wull?" I asked and the tall man nodded.
The letter was wrapped by myself, my seal also served again, and when everything was ready, I handed it into Lord Flint's hands.
"Is that enough?"
The old man looked at me, long and hard, but nodded. "Gather the men... we are going to war with King Stannis."
A roar of recognition followed the old man's words, and the clans of the Northern Mountains were our allies... for now.
It was cold that night, perhaps colder than at the Wall, and I clung to the furs and the fireplace in my room. There was a knock and Brienne's voice came.
"Prince Orryn, Lord Flint wishes to speak with you."
I managed as best I could and agreed to let him in. "Are you cold, boy?". Were his first words.
"Sure, it's enough to freeze my bones." I answered sincerely and the old man laughed.
"This isn't even real winter. Real winter fucks you in the ass, this is just a kiss from an autumn lover."
"I bet a man at your age has had his ass enlarged by all the winters youre seen." I replied and the old man laughed again.
"I like you, kid, you got a tongue there." He leaned all the way back on his cane and rested his other leg. "You said something earlier about a Val... who is she?"
"Mance Ryder's sister-in-law. Her sister was called Dalla and she died of childbirth problems, apparently Val is now the woman in white and the storyteller."
"Oh... and she's willing to help?" Old Flint asked curiously.
"Yes, she's been very helpful."
"She have a noble lineage, even we know that. This Val, is she married yet?".
"No... and what does lineage matter to Wildlings? Val is nothing, it's like I said, she's just Mance Ryder's sister-in-law." I commented curiously.
"You really don't know, do you? Wildlings don't care about ancestry until a woman in white comes along... believe me, if I were you, I'd march back to the Wall fast." The old man pointed.
"Do you think everyone there is in danger or something?".
"Who knows..." He shrugged. "But heads will roll when they find out how valuable she is, remember that." The old man said before turning to leave, leaving only Brienne and me in the room.
"Do you think he was telling the truth, Orryn?" His blue eyes searched mine.
"I don't know, I don't even know what to think anymore." I said in frustration and that night sleep didn't come.
The next day, I met with the clan leaders again, this time to plan the attack on Deepwood Motte.
"How many Ironborn do we have here?" I asked, leaning on the table. In front of me was a map of the north, and my men and the other clans leaders surrounded me.
"At least 500, they look like 700." Ser Justin commented a bit uncertainly.
"We have almost ten times men, it will be easy to take the castle." Lord Wull grunted. Lord Wull grunted, "All we need is a good battering ram and that's it." He finished by thrusting his hips back and forth, drawing much laughter.
"That's a fact, but I don't care... I care about the longships." I said as I ran my finger over where Sea Dragon Point was. "Each iron-born Longship carries at least 50 men plus a crew".
"Fourteen or fifteen ships, a good number." Donnel Flint, Lord Torghen's heir, commented.
"How many bays can hold that many ships?" I asked, and a clan leader who was a follower of the Liddles replied.
"About three, that's in the Sea Dragon Point area". He finished by showing me roughly where they were on the map.
"Ser Rolland, I estimate they have about 150 men to guard these ships. I'm giving you command of 400, including light cavalry. Find them and take these ships for us, intact". I ordered my ever loyal and competent Ser Rolland Storm.
My father wanted to make him Castellan of Dragonstone while we were here, but Hugh insisted on taking the job. There was no reason to refuse, and with a thousand men in the garrison, the castle would not fall easily.
"Would any of the leaders like to join Ser Rolland?" I asked, and several nodded, saying they knew these lands well. They want rewards, they want to prove themselves useful to me.
"If all this is for the ships, why don't we leave a detachment in the forest to wait? We can stop anyone from escaping and warn the small fleet." Artos Flint commented and I nodded, it was a good question.
"Do you really think they'll hold the castle against our numbers?". I asked, and he shook his head in the negative.
"Surely some will stay to die, while the most important will flee to their ships. The journey is long and difficult, especially with a northern army at their heels". I continued, and this time it was Lord Wull who spoke.
"One more reason not to let the bastards escape!".
"But I want them to escape, I want them to flee through the cold of the wolfwoods without being able to light a fire, I want them to see their ships there and I want them to realize that it's our men who crew them, that it's our flags on their masts. That will break them more than any time in a cell". I spoke in a harsh voice and silence was my answer.
"That is risky... but I like your idea of making them suffer! Lord Wull replied with a toothy grin.