The sun rested high in the sky over King's Landing, the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Down in the city, the common people lived without incident. The day had started, and hundreds of thousands of people set about their routines. Blacksmiths hammered at metal, bakers presented their loaves and the holy men of the Septs prayed to the seven, and not a single one of them truly felt the world shake up on Aegon's high hill. In the Red Keep, the seat of power to the Targaryen dynasty, the whole of the court was in panic.

The king was dead, found impaled on the swords of the iron throne. The prince was dead, stabbed in the chest almost a dozen times and his throat slashed. The royal family was gone, without bodies to deem them dead the only real possibility was that of kidnapping. Prisoners and other individuals of note were also missing. Rickard Stark and Ethan Glover had vanished from the black cells and Ashara Dayne had disappeared just as the royal family had.

Arthur Dayne stood over the dead body of Prince Rhaegar. The silver minstrel prince looked peaceful in death, and with his clothes changed and his throat sown shut by Maester Pycelle, he almost looked like he was sleeping, about to wake up and compose another song on his lyre. Arthur mourned his friend, replaying in his mind's eye the last time he had seen the man alive. Descending into the black cells again in an attempt to get Lord Rickard to surrender and end his son's rebellion. Arthur didn't even know if the man had succeeded in his attempt this time, as he had been rendered unconscious before he had seen Rhaegar return.

Rage burned in his chest at the thought. Though he had been defeated, he had recognised the face of the man who had so handily beaten him. Lord Kurt Ambrose of House Terra would pay, he swore it. He cared not for how long that vengeance might take to achieve, but he swore on his white cloak and his family's sword that he would plunge Dawn's tip through the Westerland lord's heart. Around him the other members of the Kingsguard stood with him, watching over the bodies of their king and his son. Few of the noble court of King's Landing had come to mourn the mad king though, at least no more than was required with the death of a monarch. The majority of the mourners came for Rhaegar, the man who had been the hope of House Targaryen, the one who would sow together the tattered patchwork that Aerys had ripped the realm into. Arthur watched as they came, offering their prayers, but as he watched, he saw that it was not love that many of the visitors laid at his prince's body. No, their words were just as expected, but there was a bitterness to many of them. Arthur knew that many had suffered under the effects of the war, and the sword of the morning was not so blind not to see that many blamed Rhaegar and Lyanna, for it was their absconding with each other that had begun this great rebellion. Arthur despised them for it. Rhaegar had fought for the living, his prince, his friend, had seen the necessity of his actions, no matter how distasteful, and though Arthur knew that their actions in making off with Lyanna Stark broke the code of honour, he had done so by the requirements of his vows as kingsguard, and faith in his friend.

But his prince was dead, an outcome that had never even been considered before. The North, Stormlands and Vale were powerful, and with the forces of the Riverlands added to their own they were even more so, but all together they might have managed to match the numbers of the Reach alone, perhaps with a slight advantage on their end. Rhaegar though had already begun building an army to match the rebels, even with Mace Tyrell's siege of Storm's End draining the forces of the most populous of the seven kingdoms. Forces from the Crownlands, Dorne, and disparate loyalist forces from the Vale and Riverlands had forged a fighting force nearly fifty-thousand strong, and in a few more months they would match the rebel forces enough to engage them in open battle.

Now most of the talk amongst the higher lords was of surrender. The rebels had killed the king, killed his heir, and now had Rhaegar's own wives and children as hostages, if not already disposed of. Most of the lords could see nothing left to fight for, and some had already raised the idea of bowing to the Baratheon lord who warred in the north. Arthur had all but drawn dawn when he had first heard the suggestion, perhaps a slight over-reaction, but since then no one had openly been speaking of surrender.

In the end though, Arthur knew that it was only a matter of time before the war was over. No matter his personal feelings, without a king or prince to rally behind, the armies would question the point of further conflict. The king was dead, and now without any of the main royal family, Robert Baratheon was the next in line by blood relation, in addition to his claim of conquest. Soon the armies of the loyalists would disperse, and the lords in command of them would kneel and swear loyalty to the new monarch.

"I am sorry my lord, but even if my birds have heard the songs of the Spartans moving the royal family across the country, it will take time for their songs to reach me."

"What use are they then, Lord Varys, if your spies cannot even find the men who have kidnapped the royal family? Your spies had not even managed to intercept their orders from their lords."

"If such a message were sent, good Ser, my birds should have heard of it. House Terra has been evading my birds since I first dispatched them, though I know not how they speak with each other without trace."

"And now your failure has led to the death of both the prince and the king, perhaps it is not a failure on your part Lord Varys, but instead a wilful collusion with our enemies."

"My lord, have I not provided most accurate information on the movements of the rebel forces across the country? Were it not for Lord Connington's ill planning at the battle of the bells, Robert Baratheon would surely be dead."

"And yet he lives, linked back with his traitorous companions, Stark, Arryn and Tully."

"And did I not then grant unto the king's armies information on the plans of the rebels after that? Plans and information that Prince Rhaegar was about to use to launch an attack against them."

"And now the prince lies dead in the sept, murdered at the hands of Lord Tywin's newest dogs, and we had not even heard that Lord Terra had even left his home."

"My birds have sung many songs of the Plataea, but none from within it. No man of Westeros has even set foot in their main camp, much less the monstrous castle that is supposed to stand behind it."

Arthur listened as Lord Commander Hightower battled wits with the spymaster. It was the first meeting of the small council since the death of both monarch and heir, and the disparate, arguing voices of the various council members had been grating on his nerves since the meeting had begun.

Turning away from the doorway, for the kingsguard now stood as guards of nothing with the royal family missing, he saw Ser Barristan looking plaintively at the red walls of the castle.

"And what of Ser Jaime?" Asked another member of the council, making both kingsguard share a look. "The king is murdered by Westerlanders, and on that same night Tywin's heir goes missing. It is a suspicious thing."

"Watch your tongue My Lord." Lord Commander Hightower berated. "You would impugn the honour of a kingsguard? More than that, you would accuse him of planning the murder of the king to whom he had sworn his vows."

"I am only supplying information Lord Commander. On one day, Ser Jaime was here in the Red Keep, and on the next morning, the king and prince are dead, and he is gone."

"Ser Barristan was guarding the king with him at the time of the incursion. He has informed me and our order that Ser Jaime fought as well as he could to protect the king and was felled before Ser Barristan."

Arthur's eyes darted over to the Selmy knight. The legendary warrior was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, his posture tense as the circumstances of his failure to protect the king were discussed.

"No one would dare cast doubt on the honour and commitment of the kingsguard." Said the master of coin. "But irregardless of the order's reputation, it cannot be argued that it has failed in its duty."

Arthur shifted suddenly, about to barge into the room and defend the honour of his brothers and himself but felt Ser Barristan catch his arm. The old knight gave him a sympathetic look but shook his head and pulled him back into place.

"Then what is to be done?" Asked another member of the small council. "We have no king, no prince, no one to rally behind, if we are to assume that the rest of the royal family is dead, then Robert Baratheon is next in line for the throne through the Targaryen family line."

Arthur could not bare to hear much more, but stood guard as was his duty as the men who governed Westeros conversed with each other on how best for the royalist forces to progress. One of the largest points of discussion after that of the missing royal family was the stationing of the Tyrells at Storm's End. Upon hearing of Mace Tyrell's continued folly, Arthur felt his blood boil. The oaf lord of Highgarden's ill-advised siege of the Baratheon's ancestral home had cost vital numbers and provisions that could have ended the war months ago, perhaps before it had gotten to the point where the rebels were a legitimate threat. He remembered the fat flower's letters to Rhaegar and Aerys, thinly veiled rejections that would only be rescinded with the promise of marriage into the ruling house of Westeros. If nothing else, Arthur could take comfort in the fact that Lord Tyrell would not be getting any of his children married into royalty. After all, Robert Baratheon was not likely to give any of his children's hands in marriage to the kingdom that had all but starved and killed his own family in their own castle.

The debate lasted well into the afternoon and even into the evening, and by the end Grand Maester Pycelle was instructed to send ravens to all the lords of the realm, calling for a great council to be called.

Elia Martell sat in silence alongside Ashara, watching as her dearest friend nursed her child at her breast. The young boy, who Ashara had not yet named, was an active child, squirming and crying at all hours of the day and night. Elia worried for her friend, who it seemed to react to her new babe with a despondency that she rarely saw from the woman.

She had heard of such things, of course. It was well known that the growing of a child in a woman's womb caused many changes, both in body and mind. Some maesters decreed that it was a fault and sin of women that birthed this dejection, an apathy towards their new-born children. Elia had been warned during her first pregnancy that such a condition might afflict her, that she might grow sorrowful and even vengeful of her children in their first year or so. Luckily for her, she had felt nothing but love for her children each time they were born (aside from a deep tiredness that was a part of her frail health). Ashara, it seemed was not so lucky as her, and frequently handed off her own child to either her or to Rhaella, instead finding what solace she could from her pain.

Today however, was a day where Lord Ambrose had summoned them. She and Rhaella were being brought to the Lord of the Plataea, and so her friend had been forced to emerge from her temporary rooms in order to look after Viserys, Rhaenys and Aegon. Elia watched as Ashara finished feeding her new babe, who was then placed in a crib provided by House Terra and set down on her bed to watch over Elia and Rhaella's children as the two royals were ushered out and down the dull-grey corridors of the castle Plataea.

As she walked, Elia noticed that their guard was familiar. Ser Shane, Ser Robert and Lady Jane surrounded them, and she saw that the female spartan's eyes flickered over to Rhaella more than once over the course of the trip. Together they were brought to a set of doors that Elia recognised as the same ones she that they had travelled in to initially reach their rooms and then for her and Ashara to be brought to their infirmary where the Lady of Starfall had given birth to her son.

No matter her reservations of meeting again with Lord Terra, she was directed with Rhaella into the strange room that again, Elia was beginning to liken to the Night Watch's elevator. She waited for her guards to follow but found that only Lady Jane entered with them. Turning back, the two men gave what she assumed to be salutes to their female fellow, which she returned with military sharpness Elia had only seen in the most disciplined of soldiers. As the doors closed, Jane reached out, running her hand over a strange panel on the wall. There were numerous squares jutting out of the panel, which she had never noticed before. They seemed to have numbers and letters next to them, alongside raised bumps that were arranged in formation. Jane pressed one of the squares, which lit up, surprising Elia. The strange feeling under her feet and in her stomach began and the silence of the three women in the small room was overtaken by a sound that the Princess of Dorne had never heard before. The closest she could think of was the grinding of gears that came with the raising and lowering of iron gates or drawbridges, but this was different, much more consistent if such a thing had meaning.

She did not have long to contemplate over it though, as it was not long before the doors opened, and Elia had she shield her eyes. The light of the sun blinded her for a moment as her eyes adjusted from the last two days trapped inside the castle. While the 'lights' as the Terras called them were incredible, and Elia often wondered if they had used magic to create the small suns that provided light in the otherwise dark rooms and corridors, as she looked upon the actual sun, she found that the strange bulbs could not compare to the radiant circle in the sky.

As she blinked to clear away the spots in her vision, she heard Rhaella gasp beside her and turned to regard her good mother, worried for her. Instead, she found her own eyes widening. Wherever they had been brought by the metal room that moved, it was strange, strange and beautiful.

One might have initially believed that they were in the open air, but Elia recognised a glass garden from the tomes available to the highborn. She had been shocked to learn of them in her youth; great houses of glass panes, where even in the coldest winters it was warm like a summer day. The Starks, and the North in general, were not known for their advancement compared to the rest of Westeros, but those gardens had been the envy of many a lord of the Reach, or any kingdom for that matter. This place was not so massive as she envisioned the glass gardens of Winterfell to be, but it made up for it in height. As she looked around, she could see for what felt like miles, and knowing where she was, the fact that she could see the sea from all around her was astonishing. Fair Isle was small, but not so small that anyone could see the whole of the island from anywhere.

It seemed that that was no longer true. Elia twirled in place slowly, seeing all of Fair Isle laid out before her. In the distance, she could make out what she assumed to be Fair Castle, far to the north. It seemed tiny, so far away and below them, and for the first time Elia considered that the rumours of the size of the Plataea might not have been exaggerated.

"Ah, Queen Rhaella, Princess Elia. Thank you for joining me."

Kurt Ambrose, the head of House Terra, sat at a large table, though Elia might have missed it were it not for the items on top of it. The Princess of Westeros, though she wondered if she technically counted as Queen-mother now that Aerys and Rhaegar were dead noticed that the table itself seemed to be made of glass, or at least something that could be seen through. As she and Rhaella approached she noticed two chairs that appeared to be made of metal and noticed that there were strange imaged on the glass table.

It seemed that the Lord of Fair Isle had noticed her gaze, as his hand swept over the image and Elia was shocked to see it slide across the glass and then shrink and disappear.

"Please, sit." He gestured to the two chairs and the two complied. "You too Jane. Some informality here might be beneficial."

Elia had almost forgotten the woman was present, but a moment later she watched Jane take another seat, this time at the tables side, placing herself between the two royals and her lord.

"Lady Rhaella, Lady Elia." The lord nodded his head in acknowledgement of the two women.

"I am sorry to call you all the way up here, but I though some more open scenery might be beneficial to all our moods. Certainly better than meeting in a dark conference room."

Elia wanted to scream in the man's face, to rant and roar at him for his actions. How dare he. How dare he try and engage in whatever false pleasantry this was.

"Let us be blunt my lord."

Elia's head snapped over to stare at her good-mother. She had only ever heard Rhaella's voice so dull after spending a night with Aerys.

"Of course, Lady Rhaella. I would prefer that we be honest with each other."

"Do you intend to kill us?"

The princess of Dorne's eyes widened and she looked between Rhaella, Lord Ambrose and Lady Jane. The spartan woman's fists seemed to clench and her jaw set at Rhaella's question.

"Of course not my lady. If we had wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Elia let out a breath that she had not realised she had been holding as soon as he said he would not be killing them, but then reminded herself that she would be a fool to simply take the man at his word.

"So then, why do you not want us dead? Even after what you have done to my husband and son?"

Rhaella's voice was a strange mixture of broken and monotone. She obviously grieved for Rhaegar, but as soon as she mentioned Aerys, her voice changed to one completely bereft of emotion.

"If we are being honest, Jane requested that you and your family be kept alive and provided enough data to convince me that it would be beneficial to all parties if I authorised her plan."

Elia's breath caught in her throat and her eyes flickered over to Lady Jane. To know that the lives of her children, as well as her own life and the life of her good-family, had rested on the word of one person, was a jarring thing. Rhaella, it seemed, was just as shocked as she also stared at Jane. The woman met Rhaella's gaze with steady eyes and a small smile showing a sense of emotion that Elia knew was rare for the Lady of Terra.

"And what part of this 'data' did Lady Jane give to convince you?" Rhaella asked, getting over her shock.

"That is classified, my lady."

"I though you said you preferred we be honest with each other my lord."

"I am being honest Lady Rhaella, I simply cannot tell you."

"And now that you have in your hands, the entire royal family, what will you do next?"

"Well, the first order of business will be to return Rickard Stark, Lyanna Stark and Ethan Glover to the army of the North, where Lord Eddard will take them into his custody."

Elia swallowed, listening to the queen and the spartan lord exchange words. Elia had always been something of a good speaker, known for being friendly with most people she met. Now though, she found herself silenced as Rhaella engaged in a strange dance of conversation with Lord Terra.

"And what will happen to Elia and her children? And what about Viserys and myself?"

"Well ideally, you will all relinquish your claims to the iron throne on account of Aerys and Rhaegar's madness and instability and allow for the new Baratheon dynasty to take up the job of ruling the Seven Kingdoms."

"And if not?"

"Well then, your children will be direct threats to the new dynasty and now that Lord Tywin had engaged his daughter to Robert Baratheon, I doubt he will simply step aside and allow them to threaten the rule of his new good-son and future grandchildren."

Elia felt a shiver travel up her spine. Lord Terra's cavalier tone when discussing the very probable murder of her children disturbed her, even though she knew if should not, given his previous actions.

"Then why take the risk of angering Tywin, given his reputation for disciplining unruly vassals? Why would you defy him?"

"Why would you believe I have defied him?"

Kurt Ambrose leaned forwards, resting his chin on top of his interlocked hands, observing Rhaella as if she were a particularly interesting puzzle he wished to solve.

"You said that the only reason we were not dead was Lady Jane's advice, which indicates to me that you have deviated from another plan. Given how you have not mentioned Tywin's intents beyond his possible desire to kill my family, I can assume that you are disobeying him."

Lord Terra's eyes widened as Rhaella continued to speak, surprising Elia as well. She had never known Rhaella to be especially politically minded, but she supposed that living in Aerys' court had given her few chances to do so.

Rather than be angry at her analysis, or shocked as Jane seemed to be, Kurt Ambrose simply threw his head back and laughed.

"Well, my lady. It seemed that Jane's assessments of you as intelligent were not wrong. In fact, based on her face, I think she might have severely underestimated you."

Rhaella's face morphed into a shocked look at the lord's compliment before she smiled slightly. It disappeared quickly though, fast enough that Elia almost missed seeing it in the first place.

"You flatter me, my lord."

"No Lady Rhaella, I merely give credit where it is due. And you are correct. Tywin had ordered the deaths of your family. Painlessly of course, we had no need to make it a spectacle when it would be better to make it quiet. However, as I said before, Jane convinced me that it would be best to let your family live and bring you to us."

"And now? What is your plan for us if not to kill us according to Tywin's?"

"Well, that is the reason I have called you here."

The man's face turned serious, even more so than before, as did Jane's.

"Lady Rhaella, Princess Elia. It has been decided that the Plataea needs a greater tie to the Westerosi royal family and its influence in order to achieve our goals. As such we have decided that the best way to tie ourselves into your politics in a way your people would accept as legitimate is through marriage. I am requesting of the two of you to decide which of you will marry one of our own in order achieve this goal."

Nice, semi-long chapter to make up for the monthlong gap. I honestly planned more reactions but in the end I just wrote and it turned out like this. How do you guys like it? I hope it makes sense, at least in some ways. Honestly the best part was the dialogue between Kurt and Rhaella since Kurt's desire for blunt honestly mixed with Rhaella's and delivered some nice, clean conversation. Next chapter should be up in a day or two as I try and catch up to the backlog and hopefully get enough that I have some stuff written for my next but busy time where I can't write as much. Thankfully summer is starting and things are calming down massively.