: Choices and Consequences
Dragonstone
Delphine and Barristan stood across him, their swords drawn and ready for the day's lesson, while Stannis, Davos and a couple more Blades watched. However, this time, William had a new Shout ready to be used, and probably he would be able to surprise them this time.
When Delphine and Barristan charged forward, William finally unleashed the Shout. "TIID!"
Everything suddenly slowed down, the way he had hoped it would happen, and he was amazed to see that the strikes of the two warriors before him became slower than a snail's pace. He could feel that he, too, was affected by the Shout, but it was nowhere as strong as it was on everyone else.
William effortlessly redirected both blows and started to dance around his opponents in joy. A few seconds later, the effects of the Shout wore off, and both Delphine and Barristan stared in pure shock: to them, it seemed like William had moved so fast that he was a blur.
"Well, that was..." William said, but then he froze and fell to his hands, gasping in pain.
"William?" Stannis asked, confused, but then his eyes widened when he saw William was coughing up blood. "Your Grace! SOMEONE GET A HEALER!"
A few moments later, William was lying on a bench, and Colette started to work her magic on him.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Colette informed, to everyone's relief. "He only needs to stay off his feet for the day, and tomorrow he will be back to his usual self.."
"What happened exactly? Why did the Dragon Shout cause this?" Davos asked, mirroring the question that was on everyone's mind.
"I'm not an expert on the Thu'um," Colette shrugged before looking thoughtful, "Although, judging by the injury... Prince William is still a young man, and the Shout makes everything around him go slower. I believe that his body is not mature or strong enough to handle the stress caused by the time distortion centered on him, and, as a result, his body was breaking down a bit."
"So, in other words, it's best if I wait until I'm older before I attempt that Shout again," William commented with a sigh.
"I believe that's the case, my Prince," Colette replied.
"Esbern could have warned us ahead of time if he was here," Delphine commented.
After they escaped from King's Landing, Loremaster Esbern had traveled to Sky Haven Temple in the Northlands, in order to seek several documents he thought would be useful, but when he was told about William's recently discovered ability, he had sent a message, informing them that he would return as soon as he was able to, and that he was very eager to see the Thu'um for himself.
"He should be here before long," Willaim stated before looking at everyone. "I would like to have a few minutes alone with Colette, please."
Everyone present bowed and began to leave the room, but then they found that Melisandre was standing right outside the door, probably having witnessed the Thu'um for herself.
"I wasn't awar that the Black Prince said you were allowed here," Ser Davos remarked.
"The Young Warrior, or anyone for that matter, didn't say I couldn't be here, either," Melisandre retorted before she glanced into the room and met William's eyes. She gave him a smirk and a small bow before leaving. William shuddered. No matter where or when, whenever she looked at him, it made him nervous.
"Where did you meet her, Colette?" William asked after everyone left. Colette grimaced before answering.
"About a year before I met you, my Prince, I traveled to visit one of our temples that had been recently established in the Stormlands. It was there that I had my first meeting with that Red Priestess. She did nothing to hide her disdain for the Divines, and indeed for any other religion that was not hers. Somehow, she knew about some of the priests and priestesses being able to use magic, and she did not hesitate to mock restoration magic to my face."
William mentally chuckled at the tone of annoyance in Colette's voice. She was very passionate about restoration magic, and despised anyone who mocked it in any way.
"Thank you, Colette. I'll get some rest now. You may leave."
Colette bowed and left William alone in the room... or so everyone thought.
"It has been a while since I last heard from you, Caius," William told the Blades' spymaster, who stepped out of the shadows and nodded to his liege.
"Greetings again, my Prince."
"Do you have something to report?"
"I have received information from a contact in the Vale, Prince William," Caius reported. "My contact, who happens to be your half-sister Mya Stone, reports that Lady Arryn seems to be unusually adamant about preventing the Vale from joining the war."
"Mya says that, huh?" William asked before frowning. "I know that Lady Arryn suspects the Lannisters were behind Jon Arryn's death, so why is she against the idea of joining us to try and bring them to justice?"
"You remember my 'hunch' that we discussed back in King's Landing, My Prince? About finding a clue in the Vale? I believe that Lady Arryn knows something and is desperate to keep it a secret," Caius remarked.
"What could she be hiding?" William mused out loud.
"With your permission, I would like to hire some of the Thieves Guild to infiltrate the Eyrie and see if they can find any evidence to whatever Lady Arryn is hiding," Caius requested. "They are more suited to that kind of work than Mya is."
"Very well. You may do so, Caius."
"Also, my Prince," Caius said while tilting his head, "I was surprised at hearing about you trying to make an alliance with the Ironborn. You are aware that Balon Greyjoy has closed the ports and is preventing any ships from leaving, are you not? He's clearly planning something."
"I am aware," William replied. "Balon Greyjoy is always planning to get revenge on my family for what happened during their rebellion. That's why I agreed to send Theon: Balon's reaction will give me a clue to his intentions, and, if I'm lucky, he will move his plans ahead and expose his intentions."
"It's a pity we only have one agent in the Iron Islands, and that he is not in a position to inform us of much. That is something I will try to remedy in the future," Caius noted before his brow furred in worry. "This could force your friend to make a difficult choice, my Prince. What if he decides to betray you?"
"It's his family, Caius. If he does decide to join them, should they turn against us... I can't say I blame him," William replied as he glanced out the window.
Craster's Keep
Craster spat at the feet of those in front of him.
"Out! I want all of you out-urk!"
Isran had grabbed him, putting his hands around the man's neck, and had slammed Craster into a wall. The Grandmaster had not been happy to be woken up by Jon in the middle of the night, and that mood had not improved when he heard of vampires and White Walkers being no more than a few hundred yards from their camp. He was proud of Jon for being able to slay a vampire, but the idea of vampires and White Walkers working together seriously disgusted him.
"I should kill you right now, you foul son of a bitch!" Isran snarled at Craster. "You've been making deals with those vampires. Tell me!"
Despite being choked, Craster managed a chuckle of laughter.
"Vampires? I made no pact or deal with those nightwalkers. I serve the true rulers of this world. Heh, heh."
"Isran, enough. The information he can give us is too valuable," Commander Mormont said as he laid a hand on Isran's shoulder. Isran stared for another moment before throwing Craster to the side.
"Jon, Serana, come with me," Isran ordered as he walked to the edge of the Dawnguard camp. Mormont joined them a moment later, and then Isran faced them. "What else did you see?"
Jon explained the whole incident in detail, with Serana adding a few words. Isran then paced in silence for a moment before turning towards Serana.
"Do you know what White Walkers would want with these baby boys?" he asked.
Serana shook her head.
"I may have killed a White Walker before, but even I don't know much about them. All I truly know is that they are very hard to kill."
"Both the vampires and the White Walkers are getting bolder," Isran grumbled.
"Someone, or something, has to be leading them," Mormont noted. "We know the enemy is here, but we need to find more about them and their leader if we are to counter their assault. We'll push further north in the morning and try to root our enemy out of hiding."
"I do have some concerns," Isran replied "We might not be ready for whatever our enemy is planning. We are exposed here, north of the Wall."
"Grandmaster Isran," Jon began after a moment of hesitation. "I might be able to improve our chances somewhat."
"How?"
"I've... I've been contacted by the Daedric Prince Meridia. She has offered to give us some help," Jon answered.
Isran stared at Jon in disbelief for a moment.
"A Daedric Prince has offered you help? In exchange for what?"
"She has asked me to cleanse her temple of undead, and she'll give us some form of aid in return," Jon explained. "I didn't tell you sooner because I was unsure if I was going to accept."
Isran sighed as he paced for a moment. Finally, he turned back towards Jon.
"I do not know what aid Meridia might be offering, but I know that I would prefer have a Daedric Prince helping us, rather than holding a grudge. We have many enemies, and we don't need to add to that list."
"Then..."
"Go to the Temple of Meridia and do as she asks. Take some help with you as well," Isran ordered. "We will reunite at the Fist of the First Men."
"Yes, sir," Jon replied. "I'll take Serana, Sam, Agmaer, as well as Grenn from the Night's Watch, with me if you will allow it."
"That is acceptable," Mormont replied.
"Tread carefully, Jon Snow," Isran said with a grim face. "These lands aren't very welcoming to us. Divines watch over you."
Qarth
"YOL," Daenerys whispered to Drogon, trying to teach him to breathe fire. "YOL."
Drogon tilted his head before looking down at the raw piece of meat before. The baby dragon took a breath before letting out a screech.
YOOOLLL!
Daenerys' eyes widened in excitement as Drogon's screech sounded like the Shout. She continued to watch in joy as flames gradually spewed out of Drogon's mouth and roasted the meat. The dragon then gobbled the food down.
"Amazing!" Doreah, one of Daenerys' handmaidens, said in excitement.
Daenerys smiled in agreement before turning towards Farengar, who was sitting nearby.
"He seems to understand the word and learned quickly... but little beyond that."
"The Dragon Thu'um is the power of Divine Akatosh, who is often depicted in the form of a dragon. The Thu'um will come to them naturally, because it is part of their very being," Farengar explained. "However, as I have told you before, given that the last Elder Dragon, the one that could teach and guide them, died ten thousand years ago, they are little more than animals. I fear that your dragons will never speak no words other than when they use the Thu'um, regardless of how much you try to teach them."
Daenerys' face fell at hearing that.
"Are you saying that dragons may never recover what they lost over the millenniums?"
"Yours will probably not, but... perhaps their descendants have a chance."
"I hope so," Daenerys said as she put Drogon in his cage.
"Khaleesi," Daenerys' other handmaiden, Irri, spoke up, as she held out a dress. "I rewove this part of the top and I fixed the heel on this one."
"Thank you, my friend," Daenerys said, causing Irri to smile in happiness.
Doreah glanced over at them before lifting another dress for Daenerys to see.
"Did you see the dress Xaro had made for you? They say he's the wealthiest man in Qarth."
"It is known," Irri muttered.
Farengar raised an eye at this. It is like they are subtly fighting for Daenerys' attention.
"You would look like a real princess in Xaro's-" Doreah started to say before Irri interrupted.
"She is not a princess, she is a Khaleesi!" As soon as she had said this, Irri hesitated at her outburst. "You should wear it, Khaleesi. As a guest, it would be rude not to."
"I suggest a compromise," Farengar interjected. "The upper class of Qarth always wear many jewels and ornaments as a sign of wealth, or at least a display of wealth. I suggest that you play the game by your rules instead of theirs. Wear Xaro's dress as a sign that you understand their game, but ornament it in Dothraki finery as a sign that you are confident in yourself and that you don't really need their help. Irri can alter it for you."
Irri brightened at that while Doreah gave a small frown, which Farengar took note of.
"I agree," Daenerys replied. "I don't wish to appear like a beggar to them."
"I'll leave so that you may change then," Farengar bowed before exiting the room.
Outside, Jorah was waiting for him.
"A word?" he asked before motioning Farengar to follow. When they were alone, Jorah turned back towards Farengar. "I may report to the Spider, but I am a sellsword first. I suspect that I'm not familiar with this line of work as you are, so let me ask you: do you know who it was who informed the Thirteen about Daenerys yet?"
Farengar stroked his trimmed beard as he thought about it.
"I'm certain our spy is not someone who was born among the Dothraki."
"One of those who was a slave then," Jorah noted, "before Daenerys freed them."
"I suspect as much," Farengar agreed. "It is also likely that this spy is connected to the Mythic Dawn and that it was unable to report until we reached Qarth."
"Any way of knowing for sure?" Jorah asked.
"Not at this time, I'm afraid. Let me know if you see anything out of place, I will be doing the same," Farengar answered.
Later, Daenerys attended a party that Xaro was holding in her honor at his gardens. She wandered around, talking with various wealthy merchants. She had to deal with a small problem in convincing her Dothraki guard to not steal from their host, but she hoped no problems would occur.
She eventually met up with Jorah and Farengar, but before she could speak with them, she was interrupted.
"Mother of Dragons," a very thin looking man, whose lips seemed to be stained by some sort of dye, spoke from behind her. "On behalf of the Warlock of Qarth, I welcome you." The strange man gave a little bow before holding out a hand. "A demonstration?" He placed a gem into Daenerys's hand while Farengar watched with a careful eye. "Look at it. Stare into its depths. So many facets," the man said. Daenerys was a little put off by the man, but she did so out of politeness. "Look closely enough and you can see yourself in them."
The man then turned and looked back to where an exact copy of himself was standing.
"Often more than once," the replica said. Daenerys stared in surprise, alone with many other guests. They murmured among themselves at there being two of the same man.
"Should you grow tired of Xaro's baubles and trinkets, it would be an honor to host you at the house of the Undying," the original man said, "You are always welcome, Mother of Dragons."
The two identical men turned and walked off as the guests clapped for the display. Daenerys stared after him for a moment before she turned and whispered to Farengar.
"Was that real magic?"
"I believe it may, indeed, be some form of the school of Illusion, though not one that I'm familiar with. It's possible that neither were the real person," Farengar informed Daenerys.
"My apologies," their host, Xaro, spoke as he walked up. "Pyat Pree is a member of the Thirteen. It was customary for me to extend an invitation. Customs die slow deaths in Qarth."
"What is the house of the Undying?" Daenerys asked.
"The closest thing that Qarth has to a school of magic," Farengar stated with a hint of disdain.
"Your companion is correct, Mother of Dragons. Though, I think it is little more than a place for warlocks to stare at dusty books and drink shade of the evening," Xaro said with a small chuckle. "It turns their lips blue and their minds soft. So soft, they actually believe their parlor tricks are magic."
What this Pyat Pree did was no parlor trick, Farengar thought to himself as Xaro led Daenerys back toward the party guest. It might be best to keep an eye on these 'warlocks'.
Winterfell
Bran stared intently as his hands, which he cupped in front of him.
"Don't try to force it, Bran. Let it flow," Danica encouraged.
Bran breathed deeply to try and relax a bit. His eyes widened in excitement as a small blue orb began to slowly for in his hand.
"Well, done. Few manage to do so well so quickly," Danica said with a smile.
"By the gods," Maester Luwin gasped. "You were right, Danica. Bran really is a mage."
"What can I learn first?" Bran asked in excitement.
"Now, now," Danica shook her head. "You must not rush yourself. You still need to practice before you attempt an actual spell, because you could easily hurt yourself or someone else if you're not ready."
"Agreed, but this is still amazing," Luwin said with a chuckle. "I'm very jealous of you, Bran."
"Couldn't you try it as well? You could be a mage," Bran replied.
Luwin gave Bran a small smile before he reached down and fiddled with his Maester's chain for a second. He lifted up one of the links.
"This link is made from Valyrian steel. Only one maester in a hundred wears it on his chain. It signifies that I've studied the higher mysteries. All who study these mysteries try their hands at magic spells and I was no different. Alas, I got no more out of it than a thousand more before me." Luwin said with a sigh.
"Some are born with the gift, some are not. Once, magic was commonplace and almost anyone could wield its power," Danica spoke up with a far off look in her eye. "More than ten thousand years ago, before the Long Night and after the Dragon Wars, there was a golden age. The age of the Septim Empire. Magic was as common as animals on the farms, or the bread sold by bakers. When the Empire fell, much magic was lost with it. A long and slow decline from the glory days until it was diminished to what little we have today."
"How did this golden age end? What caused the Septim Empire to fall?" Bran asked.
"Scholars don't like to talk about it," Danica began to explain. "We call it... the Oblivion Crisis. A group of Daedric fanatics had launched a series of assassinations that successfully eliminated the current Emperor, Uriel Septim, and all of his sons. Afterwards, they were able to summon a great number of gates that connected our world to the realm of Oblivion. However, the Hero of Kvatch, a person whose name and origins is unknown, discovered an illegitimate son of the Emperor, a young man named Martin. Together, Martin Septim and the Hero of Kvatch fought back against the Daedric cult and sealed the Oblivion Gates, though it cost the life of Martin. Martin Septim was emperor for only a few months, but his sacrifice made him one of the greatest Septim emperors to live. When he died, so did the last known person of Septim blood. Without the royal bloodline to keep it together, the Empire fell apart and the Long Night soon came after."
Bran listened intently to the tale before he stared into space for a moment.
"The Septim bloodline is gone, then?"
"Martin was the last known Septim, but there are some scholars who debate that the Divines would not let the bloodline of Talos end so easily," Danica said with a shrug. "Some believe that the Septim bloodline has simply gone missing for all these years, waiting for its time to return."
"Can the lost knowledge of magic be restored?" Bran asked after a moment.
"I do not believe so," Danica replied in sadness before she gave Bran an encouraging smile. "But, I believe it can be reborn. Perhaps you can help, Bran."
Bran smiled in return. "I will try."
Renly's Camp, Bitterbridge
Catelyn Stark glanced at all the soldiers cheering at watching the Melee tournament that Renly was holding. She had just arrived at the camp and was immediately heading to meet with the uncle of the Black Prince. Renly himself was seated with several other lords and ladies, which she knew were the Tyrells.
The number of fighters had dropped to two: Brienne of Tarth, and Ser Loras Tyrell. The fight ended when Brienne forced Ser Loras to yield, and Catelyn idly wondered how Brienned would match against one of the Blades.
"You are all your father promised and more, my Lady," Renly congratulated Brienne on her victory. "I've seen Ser Loras bested once or twice, but never quite in that fashion."
"Now, now, Lord Renly. My brother fought valiantly," a beautiful young lady, who Catelyn believed was Margaery Tyrell, spoke up.
"That he did," Renly agreed. "But there can only one champion. Brienne of Tarth, you may ask anything you desire. If it is within my power, it is yours."
Brienne kneeled and bowed her head before Renly.
"My lord Renly, I ask the honor of a place within your personal bodyguard. I will pledge my life for yours and keep you safe from all harm."
Many men whispered in surprise as this was an unexpected request. Catelyn observed with interest, wondering what Renly would do.
"Done," Renly announced with a smile before he started clapping. Catelyn choose that moment to approach.
"My Lord," a guard said. "I present to you Lady Catelyn of House Stark."
"Lady Catelyn," Renly greeted. "It is good to see you. May I present to you, Lord Mace Tyrell and his family."
"Lady Catelyn," Mace stood in greeting and gave a small bow. "I offer my condolences for the recent passing of your husband, Lord Eddard."
"Our prayers are with you, my lady," Margaery said.
"You are most kind, Lady Margaery," Catelyn answered before turning back to Renly. "I have come here to inform you, my Lords, that Prince William has agreed to meet with you outside of Storm's End. I am also here to represent House Stark and the North in this meeting."
"Excellent!" Renly said with a smile. "We'll ride for Storm's End in the morning."
"If the Black Prince is in need of allies, why not come south to meet us here in person?" Loras spoke up.
"The Black Prince decided to meet with his loyal uncle at Dragonstone first, and then sail south to meet with his other one," Catelyn replied with a dismissive tone. "And since you've seemed to forgotten, he's been busy fighting a war, not playing at one."
Many soldiers grumbled at hearing Catelyn's opinion of their actions as of late. Renly gave a grim smile before standing and walking up to Catelyn.
"Don't worry, my lady," he said with a gesture for Catelyn to walk with him. "Our part in this war is just beginning."
As they strode through the camp, with Brienne following, Renly would greet a soldier or worker as a friend. He finally turned towards Catelyn.
"I'm actually glad you're here, Lady Catelyn. I could use your help."
"Help with what, exactly?" Catelyn asked with some suspicions forming in her mind.
"With Will, of course," Renly said as if it were obvious. "I know what everyone is talking about. They are saying that I intend to take the Iron Throne for myself because of the hundred thousand men I have. I want you to know that I have no intention of taking the throne from my nephew."
"Then why have you not sworn your loyalty to him?" Catelyn questioned.
"Because he needs to understand that he needs the Reach," Renly answered.
"He... needs... the Reach?" Catelyn repeated with a raised eye. "Prince William has been doing quite well in this war so far."
"There is no question that he is winning the war, but you and I know what will happen if he makes an alliance with the Tyrells," Renly said as he stopped walking. "If he makes a pact with the Tyrells, than this war will be over. There is nothing that Joffrey, Cersei, or Tywin could do to stop Will if he agrees to an alliance."
"It would undoubtedly end the war, but I fail to see how William needs the Reach as much as you claim, when he could win this war without them," Catelyn remarked.
"Will doesn't need the Reach just for the war, but also for after the war." Renly insisted. "Are you aware of the debt that the crown owes? The Tyrells and the Reach are quite wealthy, and William is going to need their help in order to pay off that debt."
"And he will owe the debt to the Tyrells instead," Catelyn pointed out.
"Not if Will agrees to the Tyrell's terms at the meeting," Renly countered. "I approached your husband about this in King's Landing, but he did not heed my advice."
Catelyn blinked in surprise at hearing this. Ned had given up his life for William, so Catelyn felt some doubt that he would decline the opportunity to bolster the support for the Black Prince.
"What do you mean?"
"I advised Ned to help me arrange a marriage between Will and Margaery Tyrell," Renly answered.
Catelyn stared in shock and disbelief.
"But... Prince William is engaged to my daughter, Arya."
"The arrangement can be changed," Renly insisted. "Your bannermen might be a little upset, but after all that Will has done for the North, I doubt they will be for long."
Catelyn remained silent for a moment in contemplation.
"Given how well I know both my daughter and the Prince, I am sure that this idea of yours will not work. The two of them have great affection for each other, and I seriously doubt that they will agree with these terms."
"They are young. They will get over it in time," Renly insisted. "They may not like the idea, but sacrifices have to be made for the good of the Realm. William knows this, and your daughter should too."
Catelyn did not answer, so Renly continued to speak.
"Take some time to think about it. Brienne, please escort Lady Catelyn to her tent," Renly ordered before turning towards Catelyn again. "The war, and so much more, can be resolved if William just agrees to a new marriage agreement. I'm sure you and Will shall make the right choice."
"If you'll follow me, my Lady," Brienne spoke to Catelyn and began to lead her through the camp.
As she walked, Catelyn was thinking over what she had been told. She should have realized sooner that the Tyrells would be looking to marry into royalty.
If I'm going to become Will's wife, then I'm going to stand by his side! Arya's voice whispered into her mind.
Arya would never accept this, Catelyn realized with a sigh, and I don't think William is going to be very quick to accept the offer either.
"You fought bravely today, Lady Brienne," Catelyn commented to try and get her mind off things.
"I fought for my Lord, and soon I'll fight for him on the battlefield," Brienne replied before glancing back towards Catelyn. "And, if it please you, Brienne is enough. I'm no lady."
Qarth
Evening began to set as the party continued. Daenerys found herself walking and talking with Xaro.
"You have interesting companions, my lady," Xaro was saying. "I can normally tell what a man wants. Your sellsword seems to have been in love with you for a while, but your other companion... I confess that he is a bit harder to read."
"Jorah is not in love with me. He's my adviser and my friend," Daenerys denied, not believing the man's words. "Farengar is as well. I value the help they have given me. Tell me, can you tell what a woman wants?"
"Much more complicated," Xaro replied with an amused chuckle. "You, for example, what do you want?"
"To cross the Narrow Sea and take back the Iron Throne for my family," Daenerys decided to answer.
"Why?" Xaro pressed.
"I promised my Khalasar that I would protect them. I intend to take back the Throne because I truly believe it belongs to my family," Daenerys insisted in determination. "My brother has proved himself that he is unsuited for it, and so I must take my right myself."
"A conqueror," Xaro summed up.
"Are you so different? Did someone just give all this to you?" Daenerys asked as she gestured to the manor.
"No. I come from nothing," Xaro admitted.
"So, you wanted more than what you had and you took it," Daenerys remarked. "You're a conqueror, too. You're just not as ambitious... What do you want, Xaro?"
"I will show you," Xaro answered before he led Daenerys to another section in the manor.
Unknown to them both, Farengar was silently following them. He wasn't going to just let Daenerys be alone with a potential threat.
Xaro led Daenerys to a large, circular door.
"This door, and the vault, are made from Valyrian stone," Xaro explained as he demonstrated by striking it with his short sword. "I offered the greatest locksmiths and the most skilled thieves their weight in gold if they could break into it. They all went home empty-handed." Xaro held up the chain around his neck. "The only thing that can open this door, is this key."
"And behind it?" Daenerys asked. Xaro merely smiled back. "I can have enough to purchase ships for my khalasar? In exchange for what?"
"I can give you more than enough for you to buy ships," Xaro replied. "Enough to buy ships, horses, and armies to go home and take back your throne."
"In exchange for what?" Daenerys repeated with a hint of suspicion.
"Marry me," Xaro simply stated.
Daenerys raised an eye.
"That was quite the romantic proposal," she said with sarcasm.
"I have married once before for love, but the gods took her from me," Xaro revealed. "I come from nothing, but if you marry me I can promise you the Seven Kingdoms and our children will be princes and princesses."
Daenerys stared at him before she slowly glanced at the vault.
"You see? I am more ambitious than you thought," Xaro smirked. "The time is right, Daenerys Targaryen. Robert Baratheon is dead and a civil war has begun over the Iron Throne."
Daenerys' eyed widened at hearing that. A civil war?! This…this is my chance! If I can bring an army to Westeros, I can use this civil war to my advantage!
Castle Pyke, Iron Islands
Theon entered the hall and saw he was early. His father had called for him and his sister to meet with him to discuss the war plans. Theon could not help but wonder at what was going on in his father's head.
Why is he so determined to not agree to Will's terms? Theon thought to himself. Who cares about what happened in the past? King Robert is dead, and Will is a completely different person. Will is offering the Ironborn exactly what they want, independence, and yet my father just burns the message.
Theon was brought out of his thoughts when he realized someone had entered the room. He turned and saw his sister looking back at him.
"What are you looking at?" Theon demanded.
"At you, brother," Yara answered before another mocking smirk appeared on her face. "Are you angry with me?"
"You lied and deceived me! In a rather foul matter, you bitch!" Theon growled back.
"It's not my fault you didn't recognize me," Yara retorted.
"Forgive me for not recognizing a girl I had not seen in nine years at first sight," Theon said, sarcastically. "How was I supposed to do it?"
"It's been nine years since I last saw you as well, but I still recognized you," Yara replied.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to see who you were first," Yara answered before letting out a harsh chuckle, "and I did."
It was then that Balon entered the room with two guards following.
"The plans are made. It's time you heard them," he announced before walking over to a map on the table and began to gesture as he spoke. "The wolf pup has marched his armies south, and is too busy fighting alongside the Black Prince. The North is ripe for the taking."
Theon blinked as he realized what his father was planning.
"We're attacking the North? Not only do you refuse Will's offer, but now you're attacking his main ally? You might as well be marching to the Riverlands and attacking them directly!"
"We have nothing to fear from this Black Prince. He's too far away and busy fighting other enemies. By the time he learns about our attack, it'll be too late for him to do anything about it," Balon replied with certainty.
"There's an entire Legion camped at Torrhen's Lake! You really think they will just sit back and let you invade the Northlands? Not to mention there is still Northern troops that didn't go south with Robb and could reinforce the Sixth Legion!" Theon said to try and convince his father to not go through with this insane plan. "The Legions are a professional, heavy infantry. The Ironborn are little better than raiders and skirmishers. Legionaries would annihilate Ironborn troops!"
"No one is tougher than Ironborn sailors," Yara interjected in anger, before it faded into hesitation as she turned towards her father. "But, Theon does have a point, father. The Legions would be very tough to try and beat."
"Which is why we fight them on our terms," Balon said with a small smirk. "We won't have to worry about Northern troops, they will take too long to organize and respond to our attack. As for the Legions, I know about the 'secret fleet' that they have built."
Theon's eyes widened at hearing that. How did his father find out about that?
"They can't hide anything that's on the water from the Greyjoy," Balon spoke as if he read Theon's mind. "The Legions may not be beaten on land, but let's see how their twenty-five warships match up to thirty of our warships, along with another forty longboats."
"Seventy of our ships against twenty-five," Yara said with a smirk. "That's almost too easy for our sailors."
"You're wrong," Theon spoke up, causing Balon and Yara to turn towards him. "The Legions have a new and advanced warship, I help designed them myself and-"
"You? Design a ship?" Yara questioned with a raised eye before chuckling. "Then this will be easier than I thought."
"Agreed," Balon said with Theon staring dumbfounded at them. "Even if these ships are a new design, the Legionaries could never out sail the Ironborn."
Theon disagreed. The Sixth Legion had not just built the Trireme Warships, they did daily drills to prepare for sailing and for a sea battle. They had a couple of years to master their seamanship and were just as capable mariners as they were soldiers.
"Lord Gorold Goodbrother's sons, the triplets Greydon, Gormond, and Gran, shall lead the attack against the Sixth Legion," Balon revealed. "Your uncle Victarion shall take a force to secure the Neck and prevent the Black Prince or the wolf pup from trying to aid the Northlands. Yara, my daughter, you'll take thirty ships to attack Deepwood Motte."
"I've always wanted a castle," Yara grinned
"Father, this whole plan is foolishness," Theon said in desperation. "The Black Prince is winning the civil war and will soon set his eyes on King's Landing. If you attack the North, he will turn his gaze to the Iron Islands and will unleash his wrath on us, just like his father. Why spill the blood of our men when we can gain all we want by doing nothing more than just attack the shores of the Westerlands? William may even allow us to keep the parts we take during the-"
"What are our words?" Balon interrupted. "Our words?"
"...We do not sow." Theon answered with hesitation.
"We are Ironborn. We're not subjects, we're not slaves, and we do not plow the field or toil in the mine. We take what is ours," Balon spoke. "Your time with the wolves has made you weak."
Theon stared at his father before his look was slowly replaced by anger.
"We take what is ours? What, exactly, is ours? We do not sow? No, because we take, we steal what belongs to others. What about your first rebellion? Did you take what was 'yours', or have you forgotten what happened? How Robert crushed you?"
Balon's eyes began to darken at Theon's words while a hint of fear appeared in Yara's. Theon knew he was angering his father, but he did not care anymore. He was tired of his own family down talking him.
"I try to give you advice so to avoid a repeat in history, but, apparently, you are determined to have the Black Prince 'take what is yours' just like King Robert did."
Balon's anger snapped and his arm came up to backhand Theon... only for his eyes to widen as Theon caught the strike he predicted would come. Theon then threw the arms away, causing Balon to stumble back a step.
"I'm your only son!" Theon shouted at his father. "I come home after nine years, and you treat me as if I was the reason for your failed rebellion? As if it were my fault that my brothers are dead?!"
Balon stared for another moment before simply turning and walking towards the exit.
"You gave me away and now that I've returned, you curse me?! Your last son?!" Theon yelled after his father.
Balon paused for a second before he continued and left the room. Theon stared after his father as Yara walked up to him.
"You would have our father bow down to your friend, the Black Prince?" she asked with venom in her voice.
"No one asked him to bow down to anyone," Theon replied with equal venom. "But you all choose to ignore that, and see only what you want to see."
"Make your choice, Theon Greyjoy, and do it quickly," Yara replied after a moment before she headed towards the exit. "Our ships sail with or without you."
Dragonstone
"Lord Renly has sent his agreement to meet near Storm's End, my Prince," a messenger informed William.
"Good," William nodded in approval. "We'll sail for Storm's End tomorrow. When we reach our destination, Galmar Stone-Fist will take command of the Third Legion and make preparations to sail to Rook's Nest near Dragonstone. From there, he will be able to launch his attack to the north of King's Landing. Legate Hadvar and the Fourth Legion will sail back with me to join General Tullius at Harrenhall."
"Assuming that negotiations go without a problem," Stannis dryly noted.
"I am hopeful that they will go well," William replied.
"And if they don't? What if the Tyrells demand more than you're willing to give them?" Stannis questioned.
"I think you know the answer to that, uncle," William replied with a sigh before he held out a scroll with some diagrams on it. "Have copies of this made and sent to all of our shipwrights. They are the plans for the Trireme Warship. Any new warships made are to follow this design."
"Are you sure, Your Grace? These ships have not been tested in battle yet," Stannis reminded William.
"I know, but I'm confident that they will be worth the investment."
"Very well. I shall carry out your commands at once, Your Grace," Stannis said as he gave a small bow before leaving the room.
Now alone, William glanced over the map before him again as he thought over his plans and strategies. He wasn't alone for long, though.
"Young Warrior," Melisandre greeted as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.
Divines, give me patience to deal with this, William thought to himself. "Is there something you need, Melisandre?"
Melisandre gave William a small smirk before giving a little bow.
"I wanted to apologize for our earlier interaction, Your Grace. It was never my intention to try and deceive you in any way."
"And yet, you proved that the Dragon Thu'um is not a part of your religion," William reminded.
"I confess, that is true," Melisandre said with a small shrug. "However, that does not mean the power wasn't granted by the Lord of Light. A power that many have forgotten with time. Perhaps Azor Ahai himself wielded this power."
William raised an eye at that.
"I'm guessing that he is a hero of some sort in your religion?"
Melisandre smirked again as she slid up next to William. He stiffened a bit as her shoulder touched his, and wished that she would stop doing that.
"He is the champion of R'hllor, and he is said to one day be reborn to guide us and defeat the White Walkers."
"Most religions have prophesies of a great hero," William replied tensely. "You believe he exists?"
"I believe that not just anyone can wield the power you can. I believe that you could very well be Azor Ahai," Melisandre said before she shifted her position. William felt heat rise to his cheeks as Melisandre's breasts pressed into his back and her voice whispered to his ear. "Such a pity you don't know more about your true destiny. If you like, I could... educate... you myself. There is much I could teach you about a great many things."
William could not deny that Melisandre was indeed a beautiful woman, but he softly pushed away from her as walked towards the door.
"Unfortunately, I am far too busy at this time. I'm departing for Storm's End tomorrow, and there are preparations to make," William said dismissively while Melisandre stared after him with a hint of annoyance in her eye.
As William walked down the hall, brushing his shoulder as if trying to clean off where Melisandre had touched him, he began to think of Arya, and a smile appeared on his face.
Melisandre is a beautiful woman... but, to me, no one is as beautiful as Arya.
King's Landing
"You asked to see me, uncle?" Myrcella asked as she opened the door to see her uncle alone in his room.
"Yes, my dear. Come in," Tyrion replied as he gestured Myrcella to take a seat. He then hesitated, trying to think of the right words. "You told me before that you would like to help your brother, William, correct?"
Myrcella brightened and nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes! Whatever it is, I'll do it."
"Now, now, my dear," Tyrion admonished, even though he was grinning. "Don't agree to something until you know what it is."
"Well, what can I do to help then?" Myrcella asked.
"Well, I do have a plan to remove a potential threat to your brother. I know who this person is, but I can't just have him removed, because he is a member of the Small Council," Tyrion explained. "I have a plan to have him arrested, as well as possibly bring more support to William. The problem is, my plan does involve you possibly doing something that you may not like."
"What do you mean, uncle?"
"You see, Myrcella, the plan involves marring you to Doran Martell's youngest son," Tyrion revealed. "Officially, you will be wed so as to secure an alliance with Dorne for Joffrey."
"How does that help Will?" Myrcella demanded to know.
"I said 'officially', Myrcella. When you head off to Dorne, I will give you a letter that you will keep in secret, and then give it to Lord Martell when you arrive," Tyrion explained. "In that message, I will state that this is actually an offer for a secret alliance to William instead of Joffrey. That, along with your encouragement, will hopefully convince the Dornish to side with William."
"Will the Dornish then raise their armies to aid William, then?" Myrcella asked.
"Not immediately, I'm afraid," Tyrion shrugged. "They may not get too involved, or may request more from the alliance. Not to mention that it must be kept secret for now. However, even if it doesn't bring military support, it will bring valuable political support. Now, I understand it if you don't wish to be married..."
"I'll do it," Myrcella suddenly said, causing Tyrion to blink in surprise.
"... Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"You don't even know the boy you will be married to, and yet you're agreeing without any complaints?" Tyrion questioned.
Myrcella gave Tyrion a smile while tilting her head as if she knew something Tyrion didn't.
"I'm agreeing because I know that, if I'm treated badly by Doran Martell's son, Will wouldn't let me get married to him."
"That's true," Tyrion noted with a chuckle. He hoped that he could witness William meeting with Myrcella's future husband. He then sighed and placed a hand on Myrcella's shoulder. "You're a very brave girl, my niece."
"Just trying to help my brother," Myrcella smiled before she suddenly looked concerned. "You... you will watch after Tommen, will you?"
"Of course I will, Myrcella," Tyrion assured her.
Later…
"I can trust you, Pycelle. Can I not?"
"Why of course, my Lord," Pycelle replied.
You put too much trust in me, Pycelle, Tyrion thought to himself. I know you are Cersei's spy, and your own mouth shall send you to a cell. This will remove one more threat to Will and Myrcella will help secure an alliance with Dorne. Now, I just need to think of ways to remove the other council members.
Qarth
"If you cross the sea with an army you bought..." Jorah tried to say before Daenerys interrupted.
"The Seven Kingdoms are at war with each other! This is the perfect time to sail to Westeros."
"You will be seen as an invader," Farengar stated, causing Daenerys to stare in shock. "A Targaryen leading a foreign army into Westeros? People won't see you as a savior, they will see you as another Mad King."
"But..." Daenerys hesitated. They wouldn't... would they?
"That's if this Xaro does have the wealth to buy these armies, which I don't believe he does," Farengar remarked, causing Daenerys to stare at him again.
"What do you mean?"
"He said that he hired the greatest thieves. If they couldn't get through the door, then they would simply steal the key from around his neck. A great thief could easily do that," Farengar observed. "Also, if this Xaro really did have to wealth to buy armies to invade Westeros, he would have already done so."
Daenerys blinked in disbelief at his words. That did not ever occur to her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized what Xaro really wanted.
"He wants to control me through this marriage, and he'll have my dragons as well," she stated in exasperation before she sat in a chair. "What am I supposed to do, my advisers?"
"I'll find you a ship. The support you need to take the Iron Throne is in Westeros," Jorah insisted.
"One ship is not enough to carry all two thousand of my people," Daenerys pointed out.
"We can meet with my friend, here in the city," Farengar reminded. "She might be able to help."
"Very well," Daenerys finally said before she stood and faced them both with determination. "Tomorrow, you will take me to her."
Castle Pyke, Iron Islands
Theon stared down at the letter in his hands. It was a letter to warn Will and Robb about his father's intention to attack the North. He silently contemplated his options. If he stayed and helped his family, he would betray his friends and be called turncoat and traitor. If he sent a warning to Will, his family and his people, the Ironborn, would brand him a traitor instead. He would never be allowed to return to his home or be heir of the Iron Islands anymore.
"I damn myself with either choice, huh?" he mused out loud.
His eyes raised from the letter and stared into space as a memory from the past came to him…
"Care to join us for weapons practice, Theon? Or are you going to sit and mope around?" a younger William asked Theon. Robb and Jon stood next to him.
It had only been a couple of weeks since the prince arrived from the south and Theon was a little confused by him. The prince seemed determined to get Theon to join in some activities.
"I don't really want to practice at this time," Theon replied gruffly.
William raised an eye before a sly smile appeared on his face and Theon failed to notice him winking at Robb and Jon.
"That's at pity, I really hate having to order someone to do something they do not wish to do."
William then motioned Robb and Jon to follow him as he left the building. Theon grumbled something that sounded like 'royalty on high horses ordering people around like asses.'
As he stepped outside after them, William turned to face him.
"Ah, did you change your mind?"
"Not like you gave me much choice," Theon replied. Smug prick of a prince.
"Whatever are you talking about?" William asked with an innocent look on his face.
"Do I have to spell it out for you? You ordered me to come out here!" Theon said in annoyance.
"No, I said 'I hate having to order someone to do something they do not wish to do'. I never gave you any sort of order," William grinned.
Theon stared at him for a moment before realization came to him.
"You tricked me?!"
William let out a laugh.
"Sometimes we need to be deceived in order for us to properly open our eyes... or clean our ears."
"Why do you care?" Theon asked. "I'm a Greyjoy and you're a Baratheon! My family rebelled against yours! Doesn't that bother you?"
"Nope."
"Really?"
"Really, really."
"But... why?" Theon asked in confusion.
"Is your name Balon Greyjoy?"
"No."
"Is my name Robert Baratheon?"
"No."
"Then what possible reason do I have to dislike you?" William asked with his head tilted.
"Because they are our fathers!" Theon answered.
"Oh please, that 'sins of the father' ideal is complete bullshit," William said while shaking his head. Theon was both surprised and taken aback at William so casually swearing. He thought a prince would refuse to do so, as he was royalty.
"I am not my father and you are not your father," William continued to speak. "You and I may have reasons to dislike each other's father, but we have no reason to dislike each other." William then walked up to Theon and held out his hand. "How about you and I pretend that we have no connection to each other in any way before now. My name is William Baratheon."
Theon stared dumbfounded for a moment before glancing down at the offered hand. After a moment of hesitation, he raised his own hand and clasped William's.
"Theon Greyjoy."
Will never judged me because of my birth or where I came from. He always expected me to become my own person, Theon thought.
Theon glanced down at the letter in his hand.
Think like Will does.
After a moment, he held the letter over a candle in front of him and let it burn.
In another part of the castle…
Balon sat in his chair drinking some wine as he glanced over a map. He turned at hearing his door open and saw his brother enter the room.
"You didn't tell your children about the rest of your plan," Victarion remarked.
"They didn't need to know. Not yet, at least," Balon replied before he stood. "We lost before because our enemies were able to overwhelm our fleet and land on our islands. We cannot allow that to happen again. If we eliminate all naval opposition, we will be secure."
"Since the Black Prince is winning the war, he will soon attack King's Landing. In order to launch a proper attack, he will need the fleet provided by Stannis Baratheon," Victarion spoke.
"Indeed. That's where you come in, brother," Balon replied. "I said the Goodbrother triplets would attack at Torrhen's Lake, but the heir, Greydon, will actually be taking the Neck while the other two deal with the Sixth Legion. You have a different role, brother." Balon turned towards the fire and allowed himself a small grin. "When the Black Prince's fleet attacks the Lannister's fleet at King's Landing, neither will be ready for you and your two hundred and fifty ships taking them from the rear. You will eliminate any naval threats, and you may even be able to take King's Landing, brother. Now go and make sure our armada is ready."
"It will be a glorious day. A day of victory for the Ironborn," Victarion agreed before he left the room.
King's Landing
"You monster!" were the words that Cersei greeted Tyrion with as he entered the room. "Myrcella is my only daughter. Do you really think I'll let you sell her like a common whore?!"
"Myrcella is a princess," Tyrion replied. "Some would say she was born for this."
"I will not let you ship Myrcella off to Dorne like I was shipped off to Robert Baratheon!" Cersei retorted in anger.
Tyrion resisted the urge to grin as Cersei did exactly as he had hope and exposed Pycelle.
"The war may soon come to King's Landing, and Dorne is the safest place for her."
"Are you mad? The Martell family loathes us!" Cersei angrily replied.
"That's why we need to seduce them," Tyrion countered. "If you want Joffrey to remain a king, then you're going to need the support from the Dornish."
"She'll be a hostage."
"A guest."
"You won't get away with this," Cersei growled.
"You speak as though I'm plotting her demise," Tyrion remarked. "It's getting more dangerous her in the city and it would be better for her to leave this place."
"Even if William does attack the city, he would never let any harm come to his little sister!" Cersei insisted.
"That is true," Tyrion consented before looking Cersei in the eye. "But accidents can happen. There are some who support Will that believe in some of the rumors that have been spreading and might think that all of Will's siblings need to die in order to secure him as king. I regret that I cannot send Tommen to safety with her."
"It's not enough, is it?" Cersei said with venom and a hint of desperation in her voice. "It's not enough that my two eldest children are fighting a war against each other? Now you want to take my only daughter away as well?"
"Dorne was not my first choice," Tyrion spoke, causing Cersei to stare at him. "My first choice would have been Cloud Ruler, as it is one of the most heavily defended fortresses in the whole realm. But, since I cannot do that, Dorne is the next best choice."
"No, it's not!" Cersei yelled in distress. "They hate us for what happened in the past, why wouldn't they harm her in revenge?!"
"Because if they harm her, they will not only gain our wrath, they will gain William's wrath as well," Tyrion explained. "If they harm her, they will only be making enemies with the entire realm. They will not risk harming Myrcella, or allowing her to be harmed."
Cersei didn't answer right away as she sagged into a chair and brought her hands to her face in depression.
"…Get out. Just get out."
Tyrion watched her for a second in pity before he turned and left the room.
Elsewhere in King's Landing
Tyrion sat on a bench deep in thought. Despite the dislike between himself and Cersei, he did feel sympathy for what she was going through. He never had any children so he could not imagine what kind of stress Cersei must be feeling at the fact that her children were against each other.
His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps and he turned to see Baelish storming towards him.
"I don't appreciate being made a fool of, dwarf!" Baelish stated in anger.
"Really? That's a surprise. I would have thought you would have been used to it by now, considering your previous encounters with my nephew, Will," Tyrion replied with a smirk as Baelish's eyes blazed. "Have I really upset you so?"
"If Myrcella marries the Martell boy, she can't very well marry Robert Arryn, can she?"
"No, I'm afraid not. Sorry about that," Not really.
"And Harrenhall? I suppose that's of the table as well?"
"Yes, I fear so. Sorry about that too," Harrenhall was never on the table, so I guess I feel a little sorry... no, actually I don't.
"Leave me out of your next deception," Baelish demanded.
"Oh, that's such a pity. You were to be the centerpiece of my next deception," Tyrion replied, causing Baelish to blink in confusion. "My brother, Jamie, rots in a Legion's stockade at Harrenhall. I would see him released, that's where you come in."
"Neither the Black Prince, Robb Stark, or General Tullius would release the Kingslayer," Baelish retorted.
"No... but Catelyn Stark might," Tyrion revealed. "How would you like to see your beloved 'Cat' again?"
It's a pity I cannot have you removed yet, Lord Baelish, Tyrion thought to himself, but I can see to it that you'll be out of the capital for a while. That will allow me to attempt to remove the treasury officials in your pocket and replace them with my own. Maybe I'll be lucky enough that Will shall catch you in the south, where Catelyn is, and he'll deal with you in person.
Tyrion then stood as Bronn arrived and set out to arrest Grandmaester Pycelle and have him thrown into a black cell.
The Iron Isles
In the dead of night, Theon led his horse towards the dock. He stopped and tied his horse before stepping onto the dock towards a small boat. The old fisherman that Theon met when he first landed was waiting for him.
"Moonless night," the old fisherman remarked. "It will make this business easier."
"Good," Theon replied before he gave the old man a sack of coins. "You'll receive half now and the rest when we get to the mainland. Are you sure we can get through the blockade?"
"I've done it before," the old fisherman replied. "It'll be no problem. Get your horse."
Theon nodded before turning back towards his horse. He could not risk sending a letter to warn Will or Robb by raven. The maester might inform his father and expose him. No, he had to reach the mainland and ride to Torrhen's Lake. He would warn and rally the Sixth Legion to defend the North from his own people.
However, as he brought his horse to the small boat…
"Going somewhere, brother?"
Theon froze and turned back to see Yara at the foot of the docks, flanked by two of her men.
"Uh... should I..." the fisherman started to say.
"Get the boat ready, this won't take long," Theon said as he handed the reins to the fisherman and walked towards his sister. He drew his sword, a Legion sword, as he did.
Yara raised an eye at that. "Do you intend to try and fight me and two of my best men, brother?"
"If I have to," Theon replied.
Yara shook her head.
"Enough of this foolishness, brother. Come home with me and I'll pretend this never happen."
"'Home'?" Theon mocked. "How is that my home when it doesn't feel that way?"
"It is your home. Would you really betray your people and family?" Yara questioned.
"Betray you? How is it betraying you when you betrayed me first, sister?" Theon replied. "You have deceived and mocked me ever since I've come here. Ever since I left, years ago, I believed that I could return and better myself and my people.. but I can't, can I? I return to be treated less than the worms in the dirt by that bastard of a father who fancies himself a king! What will his suicide plans achieve? Nothing!"
"You think I don't understand what kind of man he is?" Yara retorted. "I had to be raised by him at try to live up to his expectations. You think that was easy? When I learned you were returning, I was happy for the chance to see my brother again. Please come home with me, brother."
Theon raised an eye before letting out a laugh.
"Where was that attitude when I arrived? You think the words you speak now will make up for the actions you took against me? Actions speak louder than words, sister. Father said he knows who he is and you know who you are. Well, I know who I am now. I am a Legate of the Legions."
Yara stared at Theon is disbelief before it turned to anger.
"I can't let you leave, Theon."
"You won't be able to stop me," Theon retorted.
"We'll see. Take him!" Yara ordered her two men. One drew a sword, the other an axe, and both marched towards Theon.
Theon waited for them to come closer before he struck without warning. The first man blocked his overhead strike, but received a kick to the stomach. Theon turned and deflected the axe to the side and elbowed the man in the face. As he stumbled back, Theon grabbed his axe and jerked it out of his unprepared gripe before stabbing the sword into the Ironborn's gut.
Theon turned to block the other Ironborn with both the sword and axe before directing it away. He slammed his sword hand onto the man's face before burying the axe into his neckline.
Yara stared in shock at her men dead on the ground.
"Y-you killed them?!"
"Obviously."
"Damn you!" Yara yelled as she charged forward.
Theon blocked her strike and they exchanged a few blows. Theon could tell she was distracted, however. He then saw an opening and kneed his sister in the stomach. Yara gasped before Theon twisted her arm behind her back and forced her to her knees.
"I'm sorry, Yara," Theon said before he slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of her head. Yara fell to the ground, unconscious.
Theon stared at his sister for a moment, and then he slowly staggered towards the fishing boat and sat on a barrel. He said nothing and merely stared at his feet as the boat left the dock.
"These are tough times," the old fisherman remarked. "I imagine they'll get tougher soon."
"I killed Ironborn. My own kin," Theon mournfully spoke.
"You wouldn't be the first," the fisherman replied. "I've had to do it a few times, myself."
"You?" Theon asked in confusion.
"Aye," the old man replied. He reached into his pocket and tossed something to Theon. "Sometimes have to, when you have no choice."
Theon stared at the old man before he glanced down at what he tossed him. It was a badge of some sort. The symbol on the badge... Theon's eyes widened.
"This... this is the symbol of Will's Blades," Theon said in disbelief. "You are one of the Blades?"
"Aye. Been one since I joined at the age of ten," the old fisherman replied before he lit a pipe. "Would've helped yah back there, but I'm getting too old for this sort of thing. Hopfully the Blades' Spymaster will have my replacement soon. One with a better position than me. I've never been able to be much use as a fisherman."
Theon stared at the badge before handing it back. The old man nodded before pausing.
"You let me worry about getting the warning to the Black Prince. You can go and warn the Sixth Legion," the old fisherman spoke.
Theon stood up and glanced back towards the Island they just left.
"No problem."
East of Harrenhall
"We should be heading back, my princess," Gendry nervously spoke.
"Oh, quit acting like a baby, Gendry," Arya said in exasperation. "I have you and Nymeria with me, so there's nothing to worry about."
Arya needed to get out of the Legionary camp for a while. She was going stir crazy, so she decided to accompany a Legionary patrol that went east of the camp. The Lannister troops could exit Harrenhall to the east, and there had been a few skirmishes between them and the Legions already. Most of them were Legionary Rangers launching guerrilla strikes against Lannister patrols, but there had been a few small cavalry skirmishes as well.
The patrol that Arya was with had stopped to rest for a short while and Arya decided to wander off a little ways with Gendry and Nymeria.
"Night is approaching, and the patrol will be ready to head back to the fort soon, my princess," Gendry reminded her.
Arya let out a sigh and nodded before she spotted something in the trees. "There's a building over there... let's take a look and then we'll go back."
Without waiting for a reply, Arya started toward the run down building. Gendry hesitated before following. They reached the building and peered towards it through some bushes to see people napping around the building.
"Hmm... I think it's a group heading for the Wall." Arya noted. "One or two of the people are wearing Night's Watch clothing."
"Then they're not any sort of threat to us," Gendry sighed with relief.
"True. Well, now we can head back," Arya said before Nymeria started to growl. "What's wrong, girl?"
Then a horn sounded from the forest. Arya could hear horses start approaching from all around the building. She peered through the trees and saw Lannister troops surrounding the area... and both she and Gendry were caught in the circle.
"Shit! What now?" Gendry asked.
Arya thought quickly before she unbuckled Ice Fang and Needle. She then strapped them onto Nymeria.
"We're surrounded... but Nymeria might be able to slip through. It's a good thing you're not wearing any Blades Armor yet," Arya said before she held Nymeria. "Take my swords back to the patrol, girl. They might be able to arrive in time to help."
The Direwolf panted at Arya for a moment, but seemed to understand what she was told as she turned and bounded through the trees. Nymeria ran at full speed before she darted between two Lannister horses, startling them and their riders.
"What the heck was that?!"
"Just some animal. Forget it and close the circle!"
Arya peered through the bushes and saw a Night's Watchman talking to one of the Lannister men. This would buy her a little time.
"Gendry, give me your knife," she ordered.
"Huh?"
"Just do it!" she half yelled and half whispered. He handed the knife over and Arya quickly raised it up and began to cut her hair.
"What are you doing?" Gendry asked.
"Disguising myself as a boy. If we get captured, then they cannot know who I am," Arya replied.
It was then that fighting broke out between the Nights' Watchman and the Lannister troops. Someone dropped a torch near a cell cart with three men in it. The fighting spread and troops rode up behind Arya and Gendry.
"There's more!" one yelled, pointing at them.
"Run!" Gendry yelled at Arya.
Arya did so, expecting Gendry to follow her. Instead, Gendry stood his ground and fought back in an attempt to give Arya time to escape. His training with the Blades allowed him to strike down two men before he was overwhelmed and knocked to the ground.
As Arya moved through the fighting, she ended up near the cell carriage.
"Boy! Help us, boy!" the men in the cage yelled towards Arya as the fire started to burn the cart. "A man can fight! Free us!"
Arya hesitated before she saw an axe and grabbed it. She held it through the bars to the men before running off to try and escape. As she did, one of the men in the cage observed her carefully.
Most of the fighting was quickly over. Arya attempted to slip away, as she knew that she could not afford to be captured, but then a Lannister suddenly appeared from around a bush and slammed the hilt of his sword into her chest, sending her to the ground.
She coughed as the soldier grinned down at her before he hauled her to her feet and shoved her towards the other prisoners.
"Not much fight in this lot, is there?" the Lannister remarked.
You'd be dead in three seconds if I had my swords, jackass, Arya angrily thought to herself. She felt the urge to use her Thu'um on him, but she knew that she had to hide who she was. That was why she sent her swords with Nymeria, they would have exposed her. At least, her disguise seemed to be working for now.
"Round up any survivors," the man in charge ordered. "We'll take them back to Harrenhall."
Shit, Arya thought to herself. I've just jeopardized the entire war. Will... I'm sorry.
Not long after...
"The Direwolf led us here. The Princess cannot be far," A Legionary officer said as he observed the aftermath of the fight. "Ranger, have you picked up the trail?"
"I've sent several of my fellow Rangers in different directions," came the reply. "One of them headed westwards towards Harrenhall. That's where the trail leads, so we can get a report from the Ranger before we attempt a rescue."
"Let's not waste any time them. Move out!" the captain ordered.
The company quickly rode after their captured Princess. After a short ride, they reached the crest of a hill and observed the land surrounding them.
"There!" a soldier yelled. They could see in the distance what appeared to be Lannister colors escorting prisoners.
"We have a problem," the Ranger spoke up as he pointed. "I see two more Lannister patrols. If we try to attack, they will spot us and outnumber us."
"We may have to take that chance. We cannot allow Princess Arya to be taken prisoner." the captain replied.
A bird call sounded out and the Ranger imitated it. A second later, another Ranger appeared from the trees.
"Report," The Senior Ranger commanded.
"I was able to spot Princess Arya among the prisoners, but they do not know her identity."
"Are you certain?" the Legionary captain demanded.
"She has cut her hair and disguised herself as a boy. I wouldn't have even recognized her if I didn't see Gendry with her. If the Lannisters knew her identity, they would have hurried her to Harrenhall without the other prisoners."
"Thank the Divines they don't know who she is," the Captain remarked. He was silent for a moment as he tried to decide what to do.
"Captain," the Senior Ranger spoke up. "I know you wish to try and save the Princess, but we do not have enough manpower to do so with those other patrols. Even if we attacked, the Princess could be killed in the crossfire. My fellow Rangers and I are not enough to rescue her with stealth either."
"We will report to General Tullius. I will assume full responsibility," The captain finally said in a grave tone. At least they don't know who she is... Divines watch over our Princess.
Dragonstone
William stood in the main hall looking over the table map, thinking to himself. It was evening and he knew that he would need to turn in soon to rest before sailing to Storm's End in the morning.
Light illuminated the room for a second, and then a thunder sounded out.
He turned and looked to see that a storm was forming. He walked out onto the balcony and gazed up at the storm clouds as lightning suddenly shot across the sky. He leaned against the wall as he watched.
Ever since he was a child, he had always been fascinated by lightning storms. He always thought there was a majestic beauty to lightning as it flashed and stabbed across the sky. He didn't see them too often and enjoyed it every time he did.
Some rain began to fall and William closed his eyes and let it hit him.
"... STRUN..."
Rumble