Tywin Lannister

Casterly Rock, 301 AC

Idiots and lickspittles.

Was that all he was surrounded with nowadays? It certainly seemed to. A few days had passed since the news reached them of his brothers capture, feeling shame deep within. Not that he would let the shame be visible, he would be the last person to portray how he really felt with everything. For decades he had worked to get his House into the position it had been during Robert's reign, and in less than a year it had been ripped to pieces until it was simply speckles of dirt being carried away by the wind.

It was not the first time he had thought to himself that things would be different had Aerys just accepted the damned betrothal between Rhaegar and Cersei. They deserved it, after all. Tywin had been summoned to court during Aegon V's reign as a page boy and his Joanna had also been sent to be a Lady-In-Waiting to the young Princess Rhaella. Many saw it as an honour, but not him. He knew it was a way for his father to send him far away from the Westerland's as punishment for speaking up against the farce of a match of his sister Genna and Emmon Frey.

A Frey and a Lannister? Laughable on its own. A second son for the only daughter of the main branch of House Lannister? An insult at best and an embarrassment at worst. Even now, he recalled the way Ellyn Reyne had cackled aloud when the announcement was made, gritting his teeth in anger before softening upon realising she had died alongside her son Tion when they had launched an attack on Tarbeck Hall causing the roof to collapse in on itself. A few survivors did escape, but they did not survive for long. He and his men had seen to that.

Yet being sent away had its advancements, there was no denying such a fact. He had been thrown into a cage with vipers but vipers were no match for a lion. Using his new position to befriend as many people as possible- specifically Prince Aerys and Steffon Baratheon the Heir of Storm's End. He'd weaved his way around everyone to figure out their wants and he had played on those wants until they were in a circle with himself walking around them as quiet as a cat could be. He'd gotten so close to snapping his jaws on his prey much like he had with the Reyne's and the Tarbeck's, and it had all come crashing down on him when Aerys had laughed at the proposition.

How dare he? How dare anyone laugh in his face? He was the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West, and the grandfather of the rightful King. That put him in a position that people should be kneeling before him but not necessarily at him, and he had burned with rage at the display. The rage deepened when he heard whispers of Aerys' lust for his Joanna, and the rage had burst when she had been sent away by the then Queen Rhaella. Not only had his golden lioness been shamed in such a way, their whole House was shamed at the betrothal with the sickly Princess of Dorne.

Yet now, he found himself in a similar position. Thinking quietly to himself in the Lord's quarters of Casterly Rock for a final night before he would be riding for Castamere again. Mayhaps this time the Young Wolf would break. It annoyed him greatly he had yet to do so, and deep within he could almost say he admired the resolve of the man. Normally people snapped much quicker, and Robb Stark showed no signs yet of stopping his snarling fangs.

Something had to be done, that was certain. Word had come from his sister that Roslin Stark had found out she was with babe, a smile coming onto his face because that may just be the key to complete his task. If Robb Stark broke, the North lay in the hands of a crippled boy. It would fall to a Castellan to help the boy rule the North and it would weaken them. With a weakened North, they had an opportunity to strike. Kevan had agreed with it, as had Dorna despite initially being against the move. If they succeeded, Janei would be betrothed to either Brandon or Rickon Stark, which would allow them to sink their claws into the North.

His other plots were not so easily plausible, however. He needed someone to be mouldable, someone he could sink his own claws into to not make their House be a stain again. Only a few days he'd needed to spend with his eldest grandson to see similarities he'd rather not see. His green eyes flashed with the same madness that Aerys' had, he had the patience of a bird of prey swooping down to catch its meal for the day, and he lacked foresight to see what his actions could cause. They'd all seen that when the brat had ordered for Ned Stark to be beheaded on the steps of the Sept of Baelor.

Tywin may not actively follow the Seven, yet appearances needed to be upheld. That single move cracked the appearance of the Faith and the Crown working in conjunction with one another and had fractured the Seven Kingdom's into dozens of pieces many were fighting over to piece back together. His legacy was already tainted by a madman, he would not have it tainted by another. The shared blood did not matter. Tommen was still young, he could grow to be a good King. A King of the noble House of Lannister to be written into the books of history and someone worthy to be interred within the Hall of Heroes. His daughters words ringing in his ear once again.

"Your legacy is a lie. Your pride blinded you to what was so obviously in front of you. Everything they say about Jaime and me is true, father. It's always been true."

It couldn't be. He refused to believe it, would never believe it. His children would never stoop so low as to lay with one another like common animals who cared nought for the blood relation. It was a sin, an abomination, for siblings to lay with one another in such a way. Surely his daughter would not be so idiotic as to do something of the sort and he saw it for what it was- a way for her to keep her son close. It was why he had sent her away to the Golden Tooth and was receiving weekly updates from House Lefford on her actions to be on top of any plots that may be brewing in her head. Cersei's plots had enabled her eldest in such a way that had almost shattered the carefully constructed wall he had worked so long to maintain and uphold.

The following day came quickly. His mount already set up and two dozen men he always rode to and from Castamere and Casterly Rock with. He would not be caught unawares like his brother had. He'd spent much of his time since the raven arrived wondering how it had happened. Did the whelp have people in Essos working for him? If he didn't, how was his brother in the black cells? If he did, who was it he had in his talons? Maester Creylen knocked on his door that morning citing an urgent meeting to discuss a betrayal. Tywin's nostrils flaring because how dare someone betray him so brazenly? Only a fool would do so, and there were many fools within this castle. As much as it bothered him, one that was not was his deformed son.

He'd never liked Tyrion, detested him. Remembering the screams of Joanna as she laboured for more than a day before a panicked yelp came from Maester Creylen that she had begun bleeding badly and they had to get the babe out. He'd waiting diligently outside the room for any further news and suddenly, the screams stopped. No words had needed to be said to him for he knew his Joanna would've been weeping in happiness at the birth of another babe, the fact not a sound was coming from the room confirmed his worst fears before he had even seen her body. After it all, it wasn't even a babe that had been born but a monstrosity. If it weren't for him having the name of Lannister, he would've ordered the babe be thrown into the sea and word to be spread that the babe had died within Joanna which is what had killed her. Shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts before pulling on a crimson tunic intricately embroidered with dozens of lions and solid gold buttons to signify their wealth. Making his way towards one of many war rooms within the Rock where some people were already waiting. Seeing the look of mad joy on his grandsons face.

"I have been made aware of a betrayal?"

He kept his voice level, waiting on someone to speak. Joffrey not even wasting a moment before joyfully explaining.

"We shot down a raven sent by someone in the city to the outside with information on how to get into Lannisport."

Joffrey was clearly pleased, but he spotted the look of unease on Tyrion's face. Knowing then something was being kept secret. Asking the Maester to hand the parchment over as he read it fervently a few times. The first time to scan, the second time to take in everything, the third to search for any clues, and a fourth time to ensure he had missed nought. His grandson had spoken what was confirmed, someone had tried to send information outside of Lannisport on how to enter the city alongside the guard schedule. Quickly turning to Ser Addam Marbrand whom had been brought to Casterly Rock to train Joffrey in the ways of the blade as the boy was lacking in said regard and ordering he change the guarding pattern at the soonest possibility. The man nodding his head once in obedience and proceeding to listen in for more information.

"Do we know who sent it?"

"Aye, grandfather. Bring her in!"

Tyrion shuffled even more at the words, clearly knowing something and didn't wish to speak the words. Curling his lips into a tight line before the doors opened and a woman was marched in gagged and with chains tying her wrists and ankles together. A woman around the same age as he, mayhaps a few years younger at most. With golden coloured hair and piercing green eyes. Those eyes raising slowly to look directly into his own as realisation washed over him.

"Tarena."

A muffle was heard as she could not speak due to the gag. Ordering the guard to have it cut away despite his grandson saying it was to be kept on.

"The gag will come off so we can question her accordingly. As the Lord of Casterly Rock and as the Warden of the West, I order this."

Joffrey shot him a sour look at the response, even he not wishing to go against him. He would not be King for long, but how he would manage such was yet to be planned. Ideally he would have the boy be sent elsewhere where he could not interfere with the political map he was now plotting into existence but if worst came to worst, he would arrange an accident for the boy whilst ensuring it could not trace back to him. The guard reaching up and cutting through the cloth so she could speak.

"Tywin."

"That is Lord Tywin- "

"I will refer to my cousin as I wish."

Tyrion snorted a little at her retort, and as much as he was loathe to admit it, he found the way his grandsons face reddened in anger amusing too. Grabbing the letter and holding it in front of her as he waited on her to speak but she only just tilted her head to the side as if in confusion. Giving the guard a look as he grabbed her chin and yanked her head up so quickly there was an audible crack. Yet he did not break her neck, he had only done so as a show of force.

"You're one of us, Tarena. You are a lion just as much as we are- "

"Are you certain of such a thing, cousin? Whilst you reaped and sowed your way into power and taxed the citizens of Lannisport in abundance to ensure your plots were successful, did you ever stop to consider that I was one of said citizens? Because of your greed for power, I almost lost my home, I lost my husband, I lost my children- "

"Your children betrayed us- "

"My children refused to be hostages to yourself to further satiate your own pride!"

Gods, why couldn't she see? Everything he had done he had done for their House. Everything he planned to do was for their House. Aye, it was true she would've been crippled initially but never would he have let her starve and to be thrown to the streets. Never would Tywin allow an insult as such to come to a member of House Lannister.

"It is partially because of your children that we are in the mess we are. Had they done their duty to their blood- "

"They done their duty to their oaths. Both Mychelah and Torghen swore sacred oaths to protect the Targaryen babes at all cost because they much like myself knew that you would not be pleased until every dragon was dead. You would bloody your already bloodied cloak with the blood of babes to keep your position, your father and Joanna would be disgusted by your actions."

Rage came alight at her words. Lips tightening even more as he realised she was never going to agree with them. She would never do what was best for their House. She had shed her skin long ago and mayhaps had never even worn it in the first place. She was no Lannister, no true Lannister. Someone like her did not deserve to carry their name and yet the histories could not be unwritten.

"Who were you sending the letter to?"

"Who did I send the letters to?"

She replied, accentuating the use of letters and not simply letter. Horror blossoming on Tyrion's face at what this meant for they had only shot down one raven, how many had she sent? Who had it been sent to? When had it been sent? How had she sent it? By ship, raven, or rider? Either way, her words sealed her fate and he nodded to his grandson that he could give the order. She had betrayed them, had worked with the enemy. It didn't matter which enemy, just that she had worked with the enemy. No one deserved to walk free after doing such.

"Have a noose readied, she will be hung at midday."

His grandson spoke, with anger in his own voice but there was the slightest hint of joy there too. Clearly he was enjoying this and had wished to be given approval to do what he so desperately wished to do. Despite the sentence, Tarena still held her head high even as the gag was tied tightly to her mouth again and was marched from the room. Midday wasn't far off from now and so the word had been spread across Casterly Rock itself and a few people had been sent to confirm such to the criers in Lannisport to begin spreading the word. They would make an example of such a thing, and it would further solidify to never pull on his tail. They would succeed, Tommen would be crowned King and House Lannister would once again bear the title of King like they had prior to the conquest.

When the sun was almost at its highest, they rode down into the city to watch the act with their own eyes, a crowd of a few thousand having already formed confirming the criers had succeeded in getting the word out. A noose was tied from the hanging beam and Tarena was marched out onto the panel itself. His grandson was the one to announce the charge and muttering erupted within the crowd at such a thing. His cousin being escorted right to the end of the panel as the noose was brought around her neck and tightened. Watching, waiting, for any sign of being sorry for what she had done. Yet she kept her face as still as steel. She didn't even need to be pushed off the panel or for the panel to be dropped, instead calmly stepping over as the noose tightened around her neck with her feet dangling above the ground. Tywin watched as she twitched and coughed and spluttered. As her face turned blue from lack of air before settling on a disturbing shade of purple before she moved no more.

Silence. That was all that followed. Not for long though, as a soft murmuring began to echo and sounding suspiciously like crickets in a field. His nephew moving to walk down from the platform towards the waiting wheelhouse before a sound so familiar to him echoed from somewhere in the crowd. Having no time to figure anything out as he ducked down low and began to move away from the crowd towards the wheelhouse that had brought them into the heart of the city. Screaming was heard as was shouting, seeing some people beginning to flee and blood began spraying from gods know who and where. His deformed son entered the wheelhouse next and a while later a guard appeared dragging his grandson who was bleeding from his chest.

"What happened?"

He stated, waiting on an answer.

"Someone in the crowd shot an arrow at him after Tarena died."

So that was where the arrow that he heard had landed. Turning to who was manning the wheelhouse and ordering he take them to Casterly Rock now. The man shouting back about the others that had come with but with a single glare, he relented and soon they were moving. Not that they got far as the crowd soon surrounded them. Some banging on windows, feeling bumps under the wheels which were not the cobbled streets of the city, and some were climbing on top and banging from the roof. Joffrey was getting pale now, the floor being covered in blood and knowing if they did not get him to Maester Creylen soon he would no longer be of this world. The noise was beginning to hurt, his ears ringing as he ordered the man to gallop the horses through the crowd yet he was hesitant to do so. It was only when he threatened to have his children executed in response that he whipped the horses so hard that they initially reared before galloping through the crowd. Not caring one bit as he felt the many people under the wheels and those who were falling from the roof from the speed they were travelling.

How far they got was difficult to say. Despite the horses galloping, they weren't moving as quick as he would like. Hearing the sound of hundreds of pairs of feet chasing them in the streets and soon things were being thrown. Grimacing in disgust at what could only be shit splattering on the window and blocking much of the view to the outside as a result. Tyrion noticed his disgust as he reached over to close the curtain so it was no longer visible. Then there was a loud crack, followed by a loud whinny from one of the horses pulling the wheelhouse. Slowing considerably as a result before coming to a stop. Knowing there was little time to escape the mob before it reached them.

Throwing open the door and looking to the horses to see one clearly had a broken leg and the man who had been manning the wheelhouse had been launched when the horse had been injured considering he lay in a puddle of blood with his head caved in a couple feet ahead on the path. The footsteps were getting closer and without thinking he reached in to grab Tyrion and pull him sharply from the wheelhouse and begin running. Only realising once they were a few blocks down that neither of them had grabbed Joffrey. Not that Tywin cared much, at least he didn't need to stain his blood like he had been plotting earlier. Mayhaps the crowd would be more occupied in finding the King injured than chasing them down. They were nearing the bottom of the rock that Casterly Rock sat atop of, seeing guards waiting and when they noticed no one else was there they knew something had gone wrong.

"Give us your horses!"

Tywin ordered. Two guards simply nodding their heads as they got off their mounts and handed the reigns over. Tyrion struggled a little as he was more used to riding a pony but the guard took pity and lifted him up and adjusted the stirrups as quickly as he could although his deformed son could only just reach them if he pointed his toes downwards. Nudging the horse with his foot as they began galloping up the hill and past the first gate which the guards quickly closed to the outside so no one could get farther. Only once they were certain of such did they turn around to see the size of the crowd. Easily ten thousand strong, mayhaps even more. Some climbing on top of one another as if they could make themselves tall enough to jump the wall. Yet they would fail, for at the top of the wall were spikes that were regularly coated in poison.

"Father- "

Tyrion started but Tywin looked to him coldly.

"The King is dead. Let it be known it was a rebel who done so, it will not be confirmed he was killed by mere rabble."

"And Tyrek?"

Only then did Tywin realise his nephew was not with them, having last seen him ahorse as he had not travelled within the wheelhouse to witness the execution

"A riding accident."

He left no room for argument as he rode the remainder of the journey. His return to Castamere being delayed somewhat as they had to wait on the riot being quelled which gave him time to write a letter to the Farman's to return Tommen at the soonest possibility to be crowned as the rightful King.

Jaeron Targaryen

Kings Landing, 301 AC

Incense.

That was all he could smell. It was a scent he knew well considering Lady Catelyn liked to always have some of it burning in Winterfell as a reminder of Riverrun. Everything finally beginning to clear and what was previously blackness soon came into focus. Looking around to take in where he was and frowning deeply at the stonework. He knew this stonework, it was clearly the same as Dragonstone. Yet somehow, he knew this was not Dragonstone. Breathing deeply and almost coughing as some of the strong incense travelled into his throat but managing to keep it at bay. Looking closer and noticing the intricate carvings along the walls and feeling the smooth paving stones he was stood atop.

This time, he knew it was a dream. Another dream where he would clearly learn or see something that may come in useful. Beginning to walk along the smooth stones that were so uniform in size it was clear wherever he was resided on everything appearing to be utmost perfection. None of them were higher than the other, none had a single chip in them, placed so tightly together there was no way either would ever come loose. Footsteps were heard then, many of them. Pausing for a moment to try and pinpoint where he was hearing such before realising it was up ahead. So that was the way he headed, curious as to what he would see this time.

The closer he got, the stronger the incense got. The haze coming from it making it difficult to see followed by a scent he knew which made him pause. A distinct burning leather scent, yet not as strong as that, a scent that came from…

"Dragons."

Many dragons he soon realised. Multiple caverns opening on either side with mounts of every colour and multiple head shapes so different to his own mounts. Some metallic, some muted, some so bright they likely looked like sparkling gemstones whenever light hit them. Was this what the Dragonpit had looked like before it fell into ruin after Dreamfyre destroyed the great dome above causing the structure to collapse in on itself? Not getting any closer to the beasts but paying more attention and noticing something. Not one had chains. In fact, neither of the caverns has chains in them to tie them down at all. It couldn't be the Dragonpit then, for every cavern was fitted with chains to keep the dragons at bay. Something which had stunted their growth massively.

The voices were louder now, much louder than before. Walking closer towards them until there was both a large exit slowly ascending alongside a staircase. Thinking for a moment before deciding to take the stairs and exiting into a large opening in a building. Looking much like a tourney ground but instead of stands of wood that could be taken down once the tourney was over, everything appeared to be made of pristine white marble. Multiple stories high and realising with a start the sheer number of people there were. Yet it wasn't just the amount of people there were here, it was how they looked. Hair that looked like white gold, hair such a pale shade of blonde it may as well have been white, varying shades of slightly darker blonde. And the eyes! Various shades of purple from lilac to lavender to violet to indigo.

Looking up and seeing that the room they were situated in rose into the sky hundreds of feet given he could not see the roof, slightly tapering in confirming it was shaped like a pyramid. Gargoyles aligning the walls of creatures both known to him and no longer of the world as far as the Maester's were aware. Gold inlays within the white marble in intricate patterns. In the centre though, was a singular tree, and Jaeron knew what this tree was from a recent conversation. When it had been described to him, it had sounded so alike a Weirwood tree in the North, yet now he was looking at it that could not be further from the truth. It wasn't bone white like a Weirwood, more a very pale cream to white. Standing incredibly tall but he could see the top of it, with the first ten feet or so without a singular branch. There were many branches though, and the leaves sprouting from said tree were an array of differing shades of red and a few orange littered throughout.

"The Volcanic Face."

The words exited his lips quietly. Blinking a few times and beginning to walk towards the tree. Feeling eyes on him that was unnerving but not a single word was spoken. There seemed to be something pushing him towards the tree in the centre, reaching his hand out and pausing just before his fingers came into contact with the pale wood. Gulping and placing his palm against it and realising it was hot. Very hot. Hot to the point it felt like his skin was burning but no matter how hard he tried his hand appeared stuck. No matter how hard he tried, he could not pry it free. Beginning to breathe harder as panic swept over him like a wave over the rocky banks of the Blackwater Rush. Closing his eyes and grabbing his elbow and yanking his arm but this time it did come free. How long he stood there with his eyes closed was difficult to say, but when he did open them he was somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere that truly felt ancient. Even older than Winterfell itself felt and Winterfell was eight thousand years old. The floor was incredibly uneven and it was difficult to navigate. A smell of damp and rot seeping into him which almost made him gag but he continued. Exiting out into a hall again- or what was left of a hall more specifically. The roof was caved in, one of the walls was crumbling much like the many walls of Harrenhal. Multiple pillars all inlay with a specific stone that the light was bouncing off of making them shimmer. This adding some light to the darkness that was clearly around them. Yet somehow, he knew it wasn't night. It was cold too, oh so cold. Chilling him to the bone in a way he had never experienced.

Only after taking in everything around him did he notice that each pillar had a specific stone to it and no other. Finding this curious, Jaeron headed over towards the nearest one and knowing immediately it was pearls. White pearls to be specific. Each as perfect as the one beside it and seemingly untouched from whatever had befallen this building. The next pillar had a bright green stone but not dark enough to be an emerald and not light enough to be peridot. The next one he recognised immediately as tourmaline as it was Margaery's favourite gemstone and she often wore them in her jewellery. The next a black stone which he did not recognise. Realisation beginning to dawn over him of what each represented.

It was a story. A story Old Nan had told them when they were only babes themselves. A story the Maester's discounted as false alongside many other things. Yet his dreams had not failed him yet, and this room was obviously an alter to Emperors of an ancient civilisation. Wanting to scream at himself for never paying much attention to them after Maester Luwin had told them not to listen to Old Nan's tales of the past so he could know more. Clearly they were in the far east, farther east than Qarth anyway. There was a single pillar without stones inlay into it but he could see the many divots that had been carved into it in preparation.

"This pillar will never see the stones that were destined to be put within."

He jumped in fright, having not seen anyone. Turning around and seeing a single figure cloaked in a deep purple with their face covered by a golden mask.

"Who- who are you- "

He cursed at himself for the way he had stuttered. He was a King, King's did not stutter openly.

"Who I am is of no concern, I might ask the same of you."

The accent was thick, one he could not pinpoint to a specific location. That would make sense though, the only person he knew for certain had an accent from the far east was Stannis' red woman.

"What is this place?"

Was the question he settled on. If he knew where he was, he could try and figure out what he was being shown now.

"This is one of the five forts, the easternmost one to be precise."

Jaeron wracked his brain for any knowledge on this but he soon realised he knew nought. Turning to the pillar again and wondering why this would never encase the stones destined for it. The figure walked closer until they were stood beside him, turning to their face and seeing their eyes were of a deep violet.

"Why were these forts built?"

"They were built as a defence against what lays to the north. The Land of Shrykes is filled with monstrous creatures, creatures the current Emperor invited within the walls himself. Creatures of death, creatures of destruction, creatures with eyes so blue it is impossible to forget."

His mouth went dry, understanding coming over him. He recalled that faintly from Old Nan's stories. That one of the Emperors had done something truly heinous which brought about an age of darkness. Much like…

"The long night."

The person turned to him curiously, or what he suspected curiosity considering the mask covered the entire face.

"That is what they call this time, aye. The Lion of Night did not accept the blood betrayal carried out by Ruby on Amethyst. This pillar was meant for her, yet her remains were incinerated and could not be encased within the stones. That is why this pillar will forever remain empty."

"Ruby?"

A deep sigh left the person now, one of sorrow.

"Ruby did not take kind to his sisters ascension, believed it should've gone to him. So he killed her to take her position alongside a new name as an ode to what he had done. No longer would he be called Ruby, he would be called Bloodstone. The slaughter of ones own blood leads to a cursed life, and the people knew nothing good would come from such and began to flee. Yet they never managed to flee before the creatures got to them where they became simply sacks of meat not being able to think clearly for themselves."

"Jaeron!"

He jumped awake and realised exactly where he was, the voice registering a moment later as that of his wife. Taking a few seconds to catch his breath before muttering under his breath it was simply a bad dream. And it was a bad dream for if there was any truth to it and that was how the Long Night had come about, what had caused it to come back? He was under no illusion of the threat. If it were not in his own lifetime he would be shocked. Margaery clearly noticed he did not wish to speak of it as she nodded a little before getting off the bed.

"The Lord's of the Vale are all settled now, the discussions are set to go ahead by weeks end."

He groaned aloud, not looking forward to such a thing at all but it had to be done. The sooner the Vale was brought into the fold, the better. Getting out of the bed and beginning to dress for the day considering they were to have a small council meeting that morning to discuss the current happenings within Westeros. He needed to know everything that was occurring so he could remain on top of it all. He would not make the same mistakes many of his ancestors had done by allowing someone to walk all over him to better their own positions.

"We received a raven from the Staunton's through the night."

Anger flared up at her words but this subdued as she laced her fingers in his own. Looking up to him fondly and wondering for a moment if it was true fondness for him or fondness solely for his title. Likely the latter, but the former was a pleasant thought to have.

"What did it say?"

She seemed surprised that he had saw right through her words that time, this was followed by a small smirk that was slightly lopsided on one side.

"They have declared openly for Joffrey whereas before they were refusing to declare for anyone and were remaining wholly neutral."

"The whole lot of them are weeds that refuse to fall in line"

The words left his lips before he had even thought of them. Recalling the last raven he'd received from Rook's Rest and how condescending it was.

"They are."

Margaery agreed much to his surprise. He hadn't expected such a thing but it was welcomed. Pulling on a deep red tunic with a lot of black embroidery down the front made of crushed velvet. Noticing his wife too wore a gown of burgundy which made her pale skin appear even paler. Yet it suited her well. Noticing she was carrying his crown and he allowed her to place it until it was secure against his brow. Even now, wearing it was far from comfortable but appearances had to be upkept.

"I've half a mind to fly there myself- "

"You're needed here, your Grace- "

He didn't even notice when Arthur had stepped into their room. As usual dressed in his Kingsguard armour and noticing Allyria was with him who was biting her bottom lip lightly.

"Yes the King should sit happily in his castle whilst the lions feast on the meat and drink the blood of my allies."

Arthur snorted aloud at the words which seemed to ease Allyria somewhat. The black-haired woman stating timidly she had made a decision. Immediately, his eyes turned to his wife as he had not told her of that yet. Turning to Allyria who nodded to confirm she was happy for her to know.

"There is something we have to tell you, Margaery. Something that cannot leave this room for the time being, am I clear?"

She nodded in confirmation and looked between them oddly. Arthur squeezed Allyria on the shoulder as a sign of unity between uncle and niece.

"Ser Arthur is not my older brother, my Queen. He is my uncle. My mother was Lady Ashara Dayne, and I am the bastard daughter of King Aerys."

Whatever his wife was expecting to hear, it was not that. Eyes widening and her eyebrows rose comically high on her forehead. Quickly composing herself before shooting him a look of fury as he threw his hands up.

"We did not know until recently, I swore to Allyria I would not speak on it until she had made a decision."

It was obvious she was not pleased by his words, but her anger did subdue somewhat which was better than nothing. Turning to his aunt and giving her a soft smile to continue.

"I was raised as Allyria Dayne, and I will remain Allyria Dayne. Starfall is my home, it has always been my home and that fact will never change. I do not wish to take on my fathers name given I am the product of rape, my mothers memory deserves better then to be remembered for that."

No further words were spoken after this, his wife finally understanding as she shot Allyria a pained look as it was clear she was not taking the news well still. Yet the decision would be honoured. A Dayne she would remain. From there, they headed to the small council with his aunt branching off at some point with Mira Forrester whom she had become close with. It was nice to have another Northerner in his direct circle, especially one that had not looked down on him for the fact he was openly declared the bastard of Winterfell by many. The council went on for many hours, breaking once for luncheon before reconvening. Multiple decisions were made and joy coursing through him that Ser Brynden had been sighted two days ride away alongside Arya. The sister that had somehow gone under everyone's noses to survive on her own. The joy of such a thing was outweighed by more news from the west but he kept his face as still as possible whilst inside he was boiling with rage. Managing to hold it all together until he was in his personal solar and speaking.

"I need to take them out once and for all."

Howland answered, the man having followed him within as did his wife to discuss things further alone.

"You can try but doing so will be nigh impossible."

"I know a contact- "

He began but was cut off by his wife.

"The mother of one of many people who have betrayed you?"

A sigh of annoyance left him at her words. As much as he wished to ignore her words, they held truth. Simply because he did not like the truth did not mean the truth was not the case. A fact many nobles had never so much as considered given how little it took to offend some of them.

"What would you suggest I do? If I can't leave this shit city for fear of it falling and I cannot take out the fucking Lannister's- "

"They are weeds, my King."

That didn't answer the question. The look that came over his face must've been amusing given the way Howland smirked a little to hide an obvious laugh.

"We have already established such, there is no need to repeat yourself."

"We are not repeating ourselves, you refuse to open your eyes to the truth."

He turned to his wife, hoping she would be agreeing with him on the matter and feeling a pit open that she was not.

"And what truth would that be, Margaery?"

"You can cut the head of a weed off, it will grow back. You can cut the body of a weed, and it will still grow back."

"If this is another of your word games- "

"It is but this one is true so listen to me- "

"I'm the King- "

"And I am your Queen, so treat me as such."

Jaeron pinched his nose and breathed deeply trying to contain the rage. Letting her words sink in and once they did feeling guilt because he hadn't been treating her as his equal during this conversation. In fact, he'd talked over her and it was clear she was hurt by the fact he had done so.

"I apologise for my insolence. Tell me."

It was clear she was not accepting the apology right away but she did continue her train of thought.

"Like I was saying even if you cut the head or the body of a weed off, it will always grow back. There is only one way to prevent that happening."

"And that would be?"

He could see where she was going with her words now, only noticing now that Howland had left the room so they were alone. Taking a seat at the desk as she took the opposite one. Offering her some wine but she shook her head no. Confusion overtook him for a moment as it was not like her to refuse wine but choosing not to speak on it.

"You need to kill the root. Tarena may be able to help but do not forget she is one of them. She is part of the root. In order to stop them from growing and reaching you will need to make a decision for her as well."

"She despises them."

He answered, frowning at her words. If they could get to Tarena and she were to help them, he would not punish her. Punishing someone for aiding their side was an abhorrent thought.

"Does she? Or does she despise the fact her station means that despite sharing the same blood she will never be seen as one of them? Is that not a feeling you of all people understand? From when you believed yourself solely to be the bastard of Winterfell?"

"Our situations are not the same."

"No, they are not the same. Yet they are similar, and you cannot deny such a fact."

Nay, he could not deny such a thing. He'd not thought of it like that but it did make sense. A simple conversation followed as he thought on the dream from the night prior, knowing he would need to speak to his uncle on it to gather his perspective. If there was anyone would not instantly deem him mad for believing in his dreams it was Aemon. They were broken from their thoughts by a loud knock on the door as Arthur stepped inside looking ashen.

"Your Grace's, you best come. Further news has just arrived, an urgent council has been called."

He looked to his wife in confusion and was pleased she also looked back with a similar expression. Both standing up and making their way there as he took his seat at the end of the table and taking in the faces of his council members. Clearly it was not good news given the wide eyes and obvious fidgeting.

"Please tell of the news that has arrived."

Arthur's lips pursed but he answered his question considering no one else appeared to want to. Feeling Margaery's hand rest on his knee and squeeze it lightly in comfort. It was not a common thing for everyone at the table to look like this so clearly it was not good news.

"Joffrey hung Tarena Lannister publicly in Lannisport. This insighted a revolt in the city against the Lannister's. Both Joffrey and Tyrek are dead, Tommen has been proclaimed King."

It felt like someone had punched him. He'd come in expecting something big but he hadn't expected that. Once the shock began to pass he felt a small smile come onto his face but this disappeared at the look Howland gave him from the farthest seat on the right of the table.

"My King, this news may be distressing to hear. The Ironborn have attacked the North. Deepwood Motte, Torrhen's Square, and Bear Island have fallen."