obb's Camp
Robb strode through his camp, conversing with several of his men. Eventually, he spotted Lord Gawen sitting with his daughter Jeyne. Gawen was holding a letter and both him and his daughter had looks of joy on their faces. Curious, Robb walked over towards them.
"This is wonderful news, father!" Jeyne was saying.
"Indeed, my dear. May the Gods bless the Black Prince," Gawen replied.
"May I ask what has you in high spirit, my Lord and my Lady?" Robb asked.
"Ah, good morning, Lord Stark," Gawen greeted as his daughter quickly stood up and gave a clumsy curtsey. "It's a letter from the Black Prince. As you may know, House Westerling has hit some hard times, and we barely have enough revenues to support our castle. However, the Black Prince has just granted us all of the previous lands and mines that we once had in the past. Once this war is over and we've organized our new holdings, House Westerling will be on equal standing with House Brax."
Robb gave a grin, happy at hearing the fortunes of his allies improving.
"Your reward is well earned, Lord Westerling, for you have been a great help in taking some of the Western castles. I wish others would try as hard as your house."
"I heard there were some problems with House Frey," Gawen noted.
"A contingent of Frey men were supposed to meet up with Lord Tytos in taking Ashemark, but ended up taking a detour to a nearby town and spent almost a week there with drinking and prostitutes," Robb explained in exasperation. "Lord Tytos had a harder time taking Ashemark than he should have."
Gawen shook his head in displeasure.
"You're promised to marry one of the Frey daughters, aren't you? They should be putting more effort into the war because of this."
"Even with that, they don't seem very dedicated," Robb replied with a sigh. "Also, I'm worried about news from the North."
Robb had been on the verge of ordering his men to march back home when he learned that the Ironborn would attack. The other lords convinced him otherwise, of course, but he worried every day for his home.
"The Sixth Legion is in the North, my Lord," Jeyne said, concerned about Robb. "I'm sure they will succeed in protecting the people and the lands."
"Well, we finally have news, my Lady," Roose Bolton spoke up as he walked up to them, holding a message in his hand. "Good news and bad news, my Lord. Theon Greyjoy has stayed loyal to our cause and defeated the Ironborn at Torrhen's Lake."
Robb briefly felt relief before his face hardened again.
"And the bad news?"
"Deepwood Motte has fallen to Yara Greyjoy, and Moat Cailin has fallen to the eldest of the Goodbrother triplets, Greydon," Roose reported.
"That cuts off our supply route from the North," Robb noted with a grimace.
"Not entirely true, my Lord. Thanks to the fishing fleet, we have a steady supply line by sea, and the Riverlands have been plentiful enough to provide the rest," Roose replied. "There is not much we can do about it, anyway. Moat Cailin can easily hold against an army ten times its garrison, but only if it is attacked from the south. An attack from the north should easily reclaim the fortress."
"Then, does the newly promoted Legate Theon plan to march on Deepwood Motte?" Gawen questioned.
"It would seem so, Lord Westerling," Roose replied before turning back to Robb. "Several Northern lords are raising a few hundred troops to aid the Sixth Legion. With your permission, my lord, I could send a message to the Dreadfort for my bastard son to aid as well. My boy would be honored to fight for you and the Black Prince's cause."
"Very well," Robb answered before sighing again. "I wish I could return home and aid my homeland."
"As do many from the North, Lord Stark, but we all have our duties. The Black Prince has even more difficult obligations than us," Roose then gave a small bow. "If you'll pardon me."
As Roose Bolton left, Gawen also excused himself to carry out another task, leaving Robb alone with Jeyne. They both stood in awkwardness for a brief moment.
"... I'm sure your homeland will be alright, my Lord," Jeyne finally spoke.
"Thank you, my Lady. I am worried, but Theon is proving himself a good friend," Robb replied.
"You and he are two of the Brothers of War. I'm certain it will turn out alright," Jeyne said with a smile. "I remember when I first heard the ballad composed about you. I was amazed that you and your friends could achieve such at that age."
Robb found himself smiling back at her. She was a pretty and cheerful girl, and when her shyness appeared gain after his smile, causing her to fidget and blush, he though it was very cute.
"You are right, my Lady. I shouldn't worry too much. Will had always been better at being a lord than I have."
"Will?" Jeyne asked with curiosity.
"The Black Prince," Robb clarified.
"Oh! Forgive me. More and more people are calling him the Black Prince rather than his real name these days. I guess we almost forget his real name."
"There's no need to apologize. He's one of my best friends, and takes either name or title in stride," Robb said with a small chuckle. "Sometimes, I wonder how he keeps it all together."
"What was it like, growing up with the Prince?" Jeyne asked before suddenly blushing with worry. "Uh, if you don't have time, that is. I-I mean I'm sure your busy with other things."
Robb merely chuckled as he sat down.
"I have some spare time, and to answer your question, Will always said one should enjoy moments of leisure. I would love to talk with you."
"A-right," Jeyne replied with in a nervous tone as she blushed again.
She's very pretty, Robb thought again before the two of them conversed for a couple of hours.
Deepwood Motte
Yara Greyjoy stared wide-eyed at the massage in her hands. She had managed to take Deepwood Motte without much difficulty, as most of its forces were south with Robb Stark. But then, a raven had arrived with the news of the Ironborn's defeat at the hands of her own brother.
"We lost one and fifty ships!" she exclaimed in shock. "How is that possible? They only had five and twenty!"
"These new warships are unlike anything we've ever seen. They decimated our ships with little effort," a captain spoke up.
"What all do we know about these ships?" Another asked.
"'They are extremely fast and highly maneuverable vessels, thanks to their oarsmen.'"
"Longships use oars as well," another captain pointed out. "What makes these so different?"
"'The Legion's ships have three rows of oars instead of one like the Longships,'" Yara said as she read the message again, "'so they can move much, much faster than us. They also have a metal covered ram on the front of their ships. Those things combined, it was impossible for us to handle and they managed to sink our ships with little effort."
Yara grimaced as she thought over what she had learned. If it were true that these ships were faster and stronger than Ironborn ships, then it did not matter that there were only five and twenty.
"... We need to box them in," she finally decided. "Send a raven back to the Iron Isles to urge my father to have the Saltspear blockaded. My brother's ships may be dangerous in the open waters, but I would like to see try to ram through a line of ships. Even if he is able to severely damage our ships, we could cluster around him and take away his advantage in maneuvering and speed. He can't ram our ships if he doesn't have any room to maneuver."
"As you command."
"Wait..." Yara suddenly spoke again as she thought over some things. She had control of Deepwood Motte, but she only had about a thousand men. If the Legions could somehow make it to their location, they would outnumber the Ironborn. "I also want you to send a request for reinforcements to my father. If the Legions march on Deepwood Motte, then I need more than a thousand men."
North of the Wall
Jon glanced around, trying to spot anything that might stand out in the snowy, rocky terrain. Before him was a small clearing, with a stone ledge not far away from where they were, and a forest to the side.
"Do you think the Wildlings can see us?" Jon questioned as he glanced at the rocky hill on the opposite end of the clearing.
"Oh, they've seen us already for sure," Qhorin replied. "We weren't trying to keep out of sight as we approached them. It's best if you do the talking, since Wildings aren't very fond of me. You go out there and stand in the middle of the clearing, wave your torch like you are signaling something, and just wait for them to come to you. Me and my men will stay back and be ready in case they decide they aren't in the mood to talk."
"I'll come with you, Jon," Serana spoke up. "Just in case."
Jon nodded and walked out into the open with Serana right behind him, while Qhorin and the other two men spread out and kept their eyes open for any trouble, waiting for any sign of the wildlings to appear.
While Jon kept his eyes peeled, Serana was a bit distracted. She was thinking back to what happened at the Temple of Meridia. She had not said anything to Jon, but she had spoken with Meridia while he was clearing out her temple.
It wasn't the most pleasant of conversations, either.
Flashback
Serana paced back in forth in worry after Jon and his companions entered the temple. She was fraught with worry.
You care about Jon Snow, don't you, Daughter of Coldharbor?
Serana blinked and turned towards the statue. Meridia's beacon was glowing with light as Serana stared at it.
"... And if I do?" Serana replied. It was true, after all. The time Serana spent with Jon had slowly made her realize that she was developing feelings for the young man.
It was... a strange feeling for Serana. She had lived a long time and met many people during the hundreds of years she had lived in this world. And yet... none of them had affected her the way Jon did. Something about him drew her to him. Part of her knew that she shouldn't feel anything towards him, because of their respective backgrounds. But... the more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to be with him.
I do not approve of my future champion having any relationships with an undead abomination. His noble spirit and dedication to duty should not be tainted by the likes of you.
Serana gritted her teeth at that.
"You know nothing about me, Daedra."
Oh really? I know what you seek. You seek purification of what was done to you and I'm not talking about you being an undead vampire. I refer to the ritual that turned you into a Daughter of Coldharbor.
Serana froze as the memory filled her mind. She had no warning of what the ritual of turning into a Pure Vampire Lord. She slowly wrapped her arms around herself as the dark memory of the ritual and the cruel Daedric Prince's laugh echoed through her mind.
Do you hope that Jon Snow will remove the memory of what happened? To release you from the dirty feeling that you feel each time you look at yourself? To end the memory of Molag Bal appearing before you at the ritual and then...
"SHUT UP!" Serana cut of the Daedric Prince. "What do you hope to gain by reminding me of this? You Daedra care for nothing about us mortal beings and see us as toys and playthings! You may want Jon to be your champion, but in truth, he is nothing more than a pawn for you! I suffered to become what I am and it instilled hatred for your kind because of it!"
Meridia did not answer as Serana glared at the beacon.
"For all your talk about cleansing the word of the undead, in truth, you are no better than Molag Bal and his undead - urk!"
Serana was cut off by an explosion of bright light. A woman made of golden light appeared and grabbed Serana by the throat and lifted her into the air. Golden flames appeared at Serana's feet and slowly burned their way up her body. She could do nothing by choke for air as the feeling of being burned slowly consumed her.
Do. Not. Test. Me. I allow you to live only on a whim, Daughter of Coldharbor. I allow you to live because you try to mock and defy Molag Bal by using the powers he gave you to undo his work.
The fire had completely engulfed Serana at this point. Her eyes were rolling back due to the lack of air and the overwhelming sensations of her flesh burning into a crisp.
You live only because I permit it. If you cross me again, I will not be lenient.
Serana was convinced she was about to die when suddenly, she fell to her knees with a gasp. She blinked and looked down at her hand and at her body to see no trace or indication that she had been burned. Did the Daedric Prince restore her body, or was it all an illusion?
If you truly wish to be with Jon Snow, you know what you must do... but you won't do it, will you? Not yet, at least. You will remain what you are until you deem the enemy destroyed. Try and be wiser in the future, Daughter of Coldharbor.
Serana sent one last glare towards the beacon before letting out a sigh.
I hate Daedra, she thought.
Flashback End
Serana let out a sigh as she tried to put her thoughts away. She needed to focus on the task at hand.
Jon glanced out of the corner of his eye at Serana. He had noticed that she was acting a little off ever since Meridia's temple. He wondered what was bothering her.
"Jon," Serana suddenly said as her eyes narrowed. He followed her gaze and tensed. He spotted two figures in fur coats that he knew were the wildlings. One of them with a bow nocked and ready to shoot at them.
One stayed back as the one with the bow slowly walked forward. Jon waited patiently for the Wildling to get closer before he blinked with a little surprise. The bow-wielding wildling was a woman with flaming red hair.
When the girl was close enough to hear, she raised her bow and aimed it at Jon before she spoke.
"You're taking a big risk, Night Hunter... What do you want?"
Jon hesitated as he was suddenly unsure what to say.
"I am here to bring a message for Mance Rayder, from Grandmaster Isran of the Dawnguard and Lord Commander Mormont of the Night's Watch."
"Why should I care what Night Hunters and Crows have to say?" the girl replied.
"What's your name?" Jon asked.
"Ygritte," the newly named girl replied. "I've given you my name. What's yours?"
"Jon Snow."
Ygritte's eyes widened and she slowly lowered her bow at hearing Jon's name.
"The Four Brothers of War," Ygritte muttered out loud. "So, one of you is here in the far north and joined the Night Hunters?"
"Yes, I joined the Dawnguard," Jon replied.
"And yet, one of those Nightwalkers is standing right next to you," Ygritte stated as she sent a glare at Serana. "Even with a hood, I can see the color of her eyes that mark her for what she is. Why is she here?"
"She has been helping us."
"A Nightwalker helping mortals?" Ygritte chuckled at this. "If she really wanted to help, she would have had her curse removed by now. She knows where and what she needs to do so that we mere mortals don't have to worry about fangs sinking into our throats during the night."
"I'm aware that my kind have caused trouble for you Free Folk, but we have enemies that are worse than vampires," Serana retorted. "I imagine that we need all the advantages we can get against the Others, as you call them."
"Serana is right," Jon spoke up. "That's why I'm here. Grandmaster Isran and Lord Commander Mormont wish to meet with Mance Rayder and talk things over. We imagine that you are no friends with the White Walkers."
"Why should the Free Folk even bother talking with you?" Ygritte demanded.
"You're talking to us now, aren't you?" Jon pointed out. "We all stand a better chance of surviving if we work together. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"You don't even know just how strong our enemy is, Jon Snow. I doubt that even the Four Brothers of War can stop what is to come," Ygritte said in a foreboding tone.
"At least tell Mance Rayder that we are willing to talk."
Qhorin watched the exchange with a careful eye. He was a bit surprised that Wildlings would talk with Jon, but he was not complaining. He glanced to his left to make sure if his man was keeping watch... only to see nothing. Qhorin's head then shot to the right to see his other man gone as well.
Years of surviving in the north saved his life as he jerked around and caught the hand of his attacker. Qhorin grimaced as the vampire before him let out a hiss in anger.
Ygritte's eyes widened in fear, causing Jon to turn and see the vampire attacking Qhorin. A scream sounded out as the wilding that accompanied Ygritte had his neck bit from behind by another vampire.
Qhorin grappled with the vampire, trying his best to keep the monster's fangs from biting him anywhere. Their fight took them near a cliff's edge.
"Qhorin!" Jon yelled helplessly as he watched the Halfhand and his opponent tumble out of view.
Ygritte had taken off, running and jumping over rocks to slip away. Another vampire appeared to cut her off, but received an arrow in the throat before Ygritte disappeared among the snow-covered rocks.
Jon stood back to back with Serana as no less than a dozen vampires started to appear from several spots.
"Well, well," one vampire mocked. "Looks like we got ourselves a Dawnguard to play with."
"Wait," another vampire cut him off as his gaze landed on Serana. "You. Take off your hood."
Serana stared at him before sighing and did so. The vampire's eyes widened at seeing her.
"It's Lady Serana!" he exclaimed. The other vampires all looked shocked at seeing her.
Then... it was Serana's turn to be shocked when the vampire took a step forward and gave her a small bow.
"My lady, it is good to know you're still alive. Your father, Lord Harkon, has been desperate to find you. For thousands of years, ever since your mother betrayed the Volkihar, we were worried about your fate."
"Since mother..." Serana froze as realization hit her. They did not know that she was the one who betrayed them. They thought it was her mother. Serana glanced over at Jon and saw that he too, realized this.
"Now that we've found you, we can escort you back to Castle Volkihar," the vampire said before his eyes landed on Jon. "After we deal with this Dawnguard, of course."
"No," Serana suddenly spoke. "I've been pretending to help the Dawnguard in order to survive, and Jon here had been helpful in that regard. How else would I have kept the Dawnguard from killing me? He will accompany us, and my father would want to meet one of the Four Brothers of War."
After a moment of hesitation, the vampires shrugged.
"As you wish, Lady Serana."
Serana exchanged a glance with Jon. They were alive for now, but both of them hoped they could find a way out of this situation.
At the bottom of the cliff, Qhorin Halfhand swore as he clutched his side. The vampire had cushioned his fall, but he was still injured. Still, it would take more than that to kill him, and he forced himself up to his feet and began to make his way back to the Fist of the First Men. He did not want to leave Jon behind, but in his current condition, he could do nothing to help. All he could do was report back to the Lord Commander.
Dragonstone
William jumped out of the rowboat before it even reached the shore. He had gone ahead of the Fourth Legion to try and return to the camp at Harrenhall as soon as possible. The dream he had continued to plague his mind and he could not shake off the uneasy feeling he had.
The Third Legion, under the newly promoted Legate Galmar, had gone ahead and already landed to make a slow march towards King's Landing from the north. The Fourth Legion was supposed to accompany William, but because of his desire to quickly return to Harrenhall, they would have to catch up with him there.
Catelyn would wait on the ship, as William did not plan to stay for longer than a few hours. With her was Brienne of Tarth, who had approached then after Renly's death. Brienne asked if William knew who the ones who murdered Renly were, and asked to help in wiping them out. William consented, though Brienne suddenly hesitated.
She explained that, although she believed the Black Prince to be an honorable person, she did not know him well enough to swear loyalty to him. She then surprised them by saying she could serve Catelyn Stark, explaining that Catelyn had a 'woman's strength' about her. After conversing with Brienne for a bit, Catelyn accepted the swordswoman, who immediately swore an oath. William noticed that Brienne seemed to have an eager look whenever she sparred with the Blades. Even more so whenever Delphine spoke directly to her.
His uncle Stannis was still organizing the Baratheon troops for the assault on King's Landing, and William knew that it would take some time for them to be ready, but it was enough time to use as he reached Harrenhall. But, first, he wanted to meet with his cousin Shireen and give her the answer he had promised before leaving the island.
On the beach, a woman was waiting for him with several attendants. William frowned at realizing it was his aunt, Lady Selyse Baratheon.
Years ago, when William first visited Dragonstone, he did not have a bad relationship with his aunt, and after Colette managed to heal Shireen's greyscale as best as she could, Selyse had been left dumbfounded and amazed, warming up to him a bit. However, William had spent some time teaching Shireen things about the Nine Divines, and when Selyse learned that Shireen wanted to convert to the Faith of the Divines, she became angered. Selyse was a fanatical follower of the Red God, and had tried very hard, but unsuccessfully, to make her husband and her daughter fellow followers of R'hollor, but Stannis had never been a very religious man, and Shireen was not fazed at all, as she had soon converted to the Divines.
Ever since then, the relationship between Selyse and William had become non-existent, as she rightfully blamed him for her daughter's conversion. That had become even worse when William learned what Selyse had done with her three stillborn sons. The very thought made him sick.
"My Prince," Selyse greeted as she fell in line with William. "I have heard of the problems to the south. I am sorry about the failed negotiations."
"As am I," William replied. "I won't be staying long, Lady Selyse. I've come to see Shireen, and then I'm setting sail again immediately."
Selyse's face twitched at the mentioning of her daughter.
"... As you wish, though I'd advice against any distractions. I have heard of some outlandish rumors about your advisor, Lady Melisandre. Perhaps you can ease my mind and tell me of their falsehood?"
"Melisandre has been arrested for treason," William replied without hesitation, causing Selyse's mouth to drop with horror.
William had learned that it was his own aunt who had invited Melisandre to Westeros, no doubt to try and spread their religion. He knew that his aunt was the Red Priestess' most devoted follower, and protested as he expected.
"But she is a priestess to the Lord of Light! She has served him and is his voice! Her service to you is also-"
"Melisandre was forbidden from accompanying my entourage to the south. Not only did she disobey my orders, but she also attempted to slip into my bed under the illusion of my betrothed!" William snapped at his aunt. "I saw through her deceit and had her thrown into prison. Do you honestly expect me to ignore this?!"
"What she does, she does in service to the Lord of Light. No service done for the Lord of Light is a sin," Selyse argued. "She told me that she believes you are Azor Ahai. If you would understand your destiny, you would-"
"Have you given your sons proper burials?" William suddenly demanded.
"T-that's not as important, and as Azor Ahai, surely you would understand-"
"Enough! You'll need a lot more than some claim about me and your Red God for me to release Melisandre. I would have already judged her is I wasn't in such a hurry to return to the war. Until I say otherwise, she will remain locked up," William then turned and faced one of the attendants. "You, tell me where my cousin is."
"I-I believe she is in her room at this time, my Prince."
Without another word, William continued to the castle with Selyse staring after him.
If Lady Melisandre is correct and my nephew is Azor Ahai, then why doesn't he believe? Selyse thought. How can we show him the Lord of Light's truth? How do we show him his purpose? I wish I could speak to my Red Priestess and gain some answers. Azor Ahai can't be left to believe in those false gods.
After a while, William reached Shireen's room and peeped in to smile at seeing his cousin reading a book. He silently crept up behind her and just stood there for a moment, reading the book over her shoulder.
Shireen did her best to pretend she did not notice and keep her face straight. Despite her best attempts, she could not keep her mouth from twitching into a smile.
"I know how to move through the castle unseen. You can't sneak up on me that easily," she spoke to her cousin.
"That's 'if' I was trying to sneak up on you," William corrected with a smile. "I was just wanting to read too."
Shireen turned and gave her cousin a warm hug, which William returned before he sat next to her.
"I heard things didn't go well in the south," Shireen commented.
"I'm afraid not," William confirmed with a sigh. "This war will last longer."
"You'll win. I know you will," Shireen encouraged before giving William an eager look. "Do you have an answer for me?"
William was silent for a moment before he turned and faced Shireen directly. He placed his hands on her should and stared intently into her eyes.
"Are you sure you want to go? The war will be dangerous, and I may not be able to guarantee your safety. I need you to understand what you're asking. Are you certain you wish to leave this place and go somewhere that could be more dangerous?"
"I am," Shireen declared after a moment.
"So be it. I'll help you pack your things," William said with a small smile. "Maybe you'll be able to help in some way that has yet to be revealed."
Harrenhall
Arya growled to herself as she paced back and forth in her 'room'. The door was barred shut from the outside with an unknown number of guards, and her only window had newly placed bars over it. It was a cell, and she was really pissed off about it.
Why do I have the worst luck? she thought in anger. It had been a couple of days since her capture. Her meals were brought to her, and she was not allowed out of the room.
What really worried her was that she did not think the attack that Tywin was planning would occur. At least, she did not think it did. She did not know what was really going on outside her cell, and looking out the window did not show much either.
Arya's thoughts strayed to a certain mockingbird and her eyes darkened at thinking of him.
Flashback
As Arya slowly woke up with a nasty headache, she could hear Tywin's voice not far away.
"You were ordered to capture her without harming her!" Tywin was shouting.
"Forgive me, my lord, but she was using some strange powers and-"
"I don't give a damn about whatever powers she may wield! She is a princess, and too valuable to be hurt in any way!" Tywin snapped. "If she gets hurt in any way, then my son Jaime is as good as dead! Take this idiot away!"
Arya opened her eyes only to realize her hands were tied behind her back. Dozens of men were surrounding her, and she could see Tywin a little distance away from her.
"Awake, Princess?" spoke up a sly voice next to her. Arya looked up to glare at Petyr Baelish. She then grinned.
"Finally got the frost off your face?" she mocked.
Baelish merely raised an eyebrow at her.
"I admit, it was quite unexpected. Even I did not know that you had the same power that your betrothed is rumored to have."
"It's a pity it's not yet strong enough to kill you yet," Arya scornfully remarked. "I thought you were friends with my mother, but you didn't hesitate to betray my father and expose me."
Baelish smirked back and crouched down to Arya's level.
"Want to hear a little story, Wolf Princess? Once upon a time, there was a mockingbird that could sing wondrous songs. The songs it sung were clever and could trick all the other animals of the kingdom. And then one day, a young, black stag entered the forest and suddenly sung a song which embarrassed the mockingbird. No one could out sing the mockingbird and yet, this young stag did so not once, but twice. The mockingbird swore revenge. It so happens that the young stag was close to a wolf princess. The mockingbird saw his opportunity to take revenge on the young stag unlike any other. And so, the mockingbird took that chance." Baelish tilted his head as his smirk deepened. "And the mockingbird relishes the chance to once again out sing any other animal once the young stag loses its voice. All thanks to a wolf princess."
Arya glared venomously back at Littlefinger.
"If the wolf princess doesn't manage to kill this mockingbird herself, then she hopes that she can at least witness the young stag tear apart the mockingbird with his antlers."
Flashback End
Arya let out another wolf-like growl. She truly hoped that she could kill that damned Littlefinger. If not, she promised to see it for herself. But now, she needed to find some way to escape or get a message out.
"Princess!"
Arya blinked. She looked at the window and her mouth dropped to see Gendry there.
"Gendry?" she asked before quickly climbing onto a table to look out the window where Gendry was. "How did you get to the window?"
"A man helped the boy," Jaqen said, as he suddenly appeared next to Gendry in the window.
"We have to get you out of here," Gendry said. He examined the bars over the window before shaking his head. "The bars are too well built. We need to get out through the door somehow."
"Will not happen," Jaqen spoke up. "A lord is taking no chances. More than thirty guards placed outside a girl's room."
"You owe me lives, don't you?" Arya demanded.
"A man will give the girl two names," Jaqen reminded. "He cannot give her more. Either way, a man cannot remove thirty men."
Arya grimaced. She was a prisoner and even a faceless man could not free her. So, what should she do?
"Can you get Gendry out so he could deliver a message?" she asked Jaqen.
"What? I can't just leave you!" Gendry protested.
"What can you do to help?" Arya demanded before her face suddenly lowered. "I... I want you to take a message to Will for me..."
Gendry blinked before he slowly nodded with some understanding.
"As... as you command."
"A man knows a way with only two guards... but he would need something in return," Jaqen spoke up.
"I name the two guards then," Arya spoke in understanding. She would use the last two names owed... perhaps it was wasteful, but she believed it necessary.
"A man does need names," Jaqen pointed out.
"A girl can't get the exact names," Arya retorted, not in the mood for games. "If a man doesn't like it, a girl could name him instead."
Jaqen raised an eyebrow before shaking his head in amusement.
"What do you want me to tell the Black Prince, my princess?" Gendry asked.
"Tell him that Petyr Baelish is riding to make an alliance with the Tyrells. Also, tell him that Baelish has some sort of plan or plot to get the Vale on the Lannisters' side. I don't know how he's going to do it, but he will try," Arya instructed.
"I'll remember it, I promise."
"One more thing," Arya said before she moved away from the window and to a table. She wrote down something on a piece of parchment before folding it and handing it to Gendry through the window. "Give that to Will, no one else... now go."
Gendry stared at her for a moment before putting the letter in his pocket.
"I won't fail you, my Princess."
Gendry left Arya's view, leaving only Jaqen who turned and gave her a small smile.
"A man knows the girl met a Dark Brotherhood woman. He thanks her for helping avoid another shadow war and he wishes her luck."
Jaqen then disappeared from view, leaving Arya alone once again. She took a deep breath before determination appeared in her eyes. She would be strong until she could see Will again.
In another part of Harrenhall, Tywin was staring out of his window in contemplation. He almost could not believe that his grandson's betrothed was right underneath his nose for days. She did catch his attention, and seemed cleverer than a lowborn girl should be. Hence, Tywin was suspicious that his former cupbearer was really highborn, but he made no real effort to learn her identity.
But now, Tywin had her in a locked room with thirty guards to keep anyone from approaching her. This girl from the North who his grandson had given up a hundred thousand men for. This seemed odd to Tywin. William was dedicated to aiding the Kingdoms and ending the war, so why give that up for this Northern girl? Tywin was curious to find out more about the Stark girl in order to satisfy his curiosity.
There was also the problem he now had to deal with. Tywin had realized that Arya was present while he was discussing his battle plans with his officers. Hence, she knew about his plan to attack General Tullius and his Legions. Tywin did not know if Arya had managed to send a warning to Tullius or not, but Tywin could not afford to take the risk. He would have to change his plans.
That was a problem in itself. Tywin's original plan was the one with the greatest chance of success. Now, he had to abandon it, and his other ideas did not have as much chance for victory. The Stark girl's capture would be a great boon, but it had also taken away his best plan for attack.
My grandson will be returning soon... most likely with more troops, as well, Tywin thought as he glanced over his battle map. What strategy should I plan now? What route do I take with my army? Does my success lie only with Princess Arya?
King's Landing
Tyrion watched alongside many other nobles and officials as Myrcella prepared to take a small boat to the ship that would take her to Dorne. Myrcella gave her goodbyes and hugs to her family with a few tears in her eyes. She gave Tyrion a small, encouraging smile as she turned to depart, secretly carrying Tyrion's letter to Doran Martell.
The High Septon was making one of his usual long prayers that might as well have been a speech. Myrcella grimly accepted them, though she was not very comfortable around the High Septon. He was very fat and clothed in so much jewels and finery. Myrcella had heard several rumors about him being a corrupt man as well.
"Princess," spoke up a kinder voice behind her, and Myrcella turned to see High Priest Rorlund of the Divines. "May the Nine Divines watch over you, just as they have watched over your brother."
Myrcella smiled and gave a small bow in returned. She was glad he kept things short and simple. He looked more like a proper priest, in her opinion. Rorlund wore a well-made, but simple robe as a sign of humbleness. Myrcella was also aware that he, along with his fellow priests and priestesses, were doing all they could for the poor.
Maybe I should convert to the Divines, like Will, Myrcella thought. She did like many of the tales her brother had told her about them. The followers of the Divines were doing things for the people, unlike the Faith of the Seven.
Not far away, the High Septon gave a sour look towards Rorlund. When the Black Prince had made it known that he had converted to the Divines, it had caused an uproar among the Septons and Septas. The High Septon himself had met with the Prince and tried to get him to see his errors and return to the faithful, but it was in vain. The High Septon decided that he needed to take this matter to the Small Council soon, as too many people were turning away from the Seven and towards those false, so-called Divines. Maybe he could restore the Faith Militant and deal with the non-believers that way. The crown's debt was, in part, to them after all.
As the boat carried Myrcella out of the harbor, Cersei stared mournfully after her only daughter.
"One day I pray you love someone," Cersei spoke towards Tyrion next to her. "I pray you love her so much that when you close your eyes, you see her face. I want you to know what it's like to love someone, truly love someone... before I take her from you."
Tyrion found himself briefly thinking of Shae... before thinking of another from many years before. As he slowly turned to leave, he spoke just loud enough for Cersei to hear.
"You are too late... Father beat you to it years ago."
Tommen was trying, and failing, to keep the tears out of his eyes as he watched his sister leave. Sansa glanced over with pity.
"You sound like a little cat mewling for his mom," Joffrey cruelly remarked in annoyance.
Sansa sent a small glare towards him before walking over to Tommen.
"There, there," she said as she pulled out a handkerchief and dried his eyes. "Myrcella will be alright, and you'll see her again."
Tommen glanced up at her and gave a slow nod. As the King's Party began to head back towards the Red Keep, Sansa laid a comforting arm around Tommen.
As the King's party traveled along the road towards the Red Keep, countless peasants and commoners lined the streets. All of them held anger in their eyes as they glared at Joffrey and the nobility. Many commoners were wearing nothing but rags, as some of them began to jeer at the Royal Party.
"Hail Joffrey... hail to the 'king'," one man said with a laugh.
"Seven blessings on you, Your Grace," another man mocked.
"Seven empty blessings. The Divines watch over the Black Prince and have condemned the false king!" a voice suddenly yelled out, causing Joffrey to turn towards the voice's direction with a glare. Many people in the crowd started to mumble in agreement.
"A false king! A bastard king!"
Tyrion glanced around with concern as the crowd seemed to get more restless by the second. He turned back towards Tommen and Sansa.
"Get the prince back to the keep, NOW! Sansa, go with him!" Tyrion urgently ordered.
The Hound, who was not far behind Joffrey, overheard him and suddenly walked back, placing a hand on Sansa's shoulder to guide her, while his other hand went to his sword, ready to draw it if necessary.
"You two, with me," Sandor ordered towards a couple of Lannister soldiers. They nodded and kept their eyes peeled as they too, placed a grip on their swords. They moved along a different route from the main procession.
Many commoners were still jeering at the royal procession, while others were yelling out pleas for food and bread.
Then it happened. Joffrey stumbled as a handful of shit struck the side of Joffrey's face. Many gasped while the Kingsguard and Gold Cloaks drew their weapons.
"Who threw that!" Joffrey yelled as his eyes blazed in anger. "I want the man who threw that! Find him and bring him to me!"
The Gold Cloaks moved to push through the crowd, but were unprepared for the crowd pushing back. A few men were thrown or beaten to the ground by the Gold Cloaks.
"J-just kill them! Kill them all!" Joffrey foolishly said.
Then, one of the commoners who was pushing against the Gold Cloaks slammed a rock he was holding into one of the Gold Cloaks' helmet. The Gold Cloak went down, marking the beginning of an all-out brawl.
"MOVE!" Tyrion yelled ahead towards Cersei and Joffrey. The City Watch tried to keep the rioters at bay as the Royal Party moved towards safety. Tyrion glanced back and saw the High Septon surrounded by angry rioters. The High Septon screamed as he was pulled down and torn to pieces, while Tyrion watched on in horror.
The rioting began to spread, as Sansa quickly moved with Tommen down a different street. Sandor Clegane had drawn his sword out, and kept his left arm around a trembling Sansa and Tommen as he kept them moving, and the two Lannister men were also ready for any trouble. Thankfully, the rioters seemed to be focused on the Royal Party and the Gold Cloaks, so there were few obstacles to their path. Sansa let out a breath of relief as she and Tommen arrived safely to the Red Keep.
In the other street, Joffrey was dragged by one of the Kingsguard through a gate to safety along with Cersei.
"Traitors! They're all traitors!" Joffrey growled in anger.
"And here I was thinking you couldn't be a bigger, blinder fool!" Tyrion remarked in exasperation.
"You can't insult me!" Joffrey retorted.
"We've had vicious kings! We've had idiot kings! But I don't think we've been cursed with a vicious idiot for a king!" Tyrion exclaimed in anger.
"You can't-"
"I can, and I am!"
"They attacked ME!"
"They threw a cow pie at you, so you decide to kill them all? They're all starving out there, you fool! All because of a war that you and your mother started!"
"You're talking to a king!" Joffrey yelled back. Tyrion's hand flew and slapped Joffrey's face, causing him to let out a yell.
"And now I've struck a king. Did my hand fall from my wrist?" Tyrion mocked. He turned and left in disgust before looking for some City Guards. "Did Prince Tommen and Lady Sansa arrive back safety?"
"Yes, Lord Tyrion."
"Good," Tyrion said with relief. "Now I need to try and fix this damned mess!"
The rioting spread to several sections of King's Landing. On one street, a group of rioters threw down a hail of rocks at Gold Cloaks in a lower section. In another part of the city, more rioters had lit torches and tossed them at one of the City Watch barracks.
Eventually, Tyrion was forced to send for some of Joffrey's new royal army, nicknamed the Lion Legions, and have them try to restore order. Countless columns of smoke rose above the city for some time before the various fires were finally put out. The riot did not improve the conditions for the commoners, but it certainly sent a warning to the nobility.
Qarth
Xaro was sleeping peacefully until a blade slowly reached out and jerked the key away from around his neck. He jerked awake to see Daenerys and her Dothraki in his bedroom. Daenerys did not look at Xaro, as she was glaring at his companion. Her former handmaiden, Doreah, looked back with fear.
"Khaleesi, please," Doreah begged. "He told me you would never leave Qarth alive."
"Come," Daenerys cut her off. The Dothraki and Jorah forced Doreah and Xaro out of their bed and into the corridor, as Daenerys guided the group back to the vault, which she opened with the key. She stared in despair as she saw the vault was completely empty.
"Nothing. You were right, Farengar," Daenerys stated before turning back to Xaro and Doreah. "Thank you for teaching me this lesson, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. And you, Doreah... Farengar told me that you were a spy for the Mythic Dawn."
"What? No, that's not true!" Doreah denied.
"I asked Irri some questions about the night before we arrived in Qarth," Farengar began to explain. "She told me that Doreah had disappeared. Irri guessed that Doreah was simply spending some private time with a warrior, but after asking around, I learned that nobody knew where she was that night. Doreah slipped away in order to report to the Mythic Dawn and the Thirteen of your arrival, Daenerys."
"It's a lie!" Doreah shouted in denial.
Daenerys did not reply. She just nodded at Jorah and her Dothraki, who began to push Xaro and Doreah into the vault.
"I am king of Qarth, I can help you, Khaleesi!" Xaro tried to say as they began to close the door.
Doreah's eyes met Daenerys and they narrowed in anger.
"Lord Dagon will destroy you all! You are merely delaying the inevitable! You will all..."
The Mythic Dawn spy was cut off as the vault door was shut and locked. Soon, the Dothraki were gathering up anything of value from the house. Daenerys watched them for a bit before Arcadia walked up.
"Look what I found in a hidden drawer of Xaro's desk," Arcadia said with a smile as she held up some documents. "The deeds to the five and thirty ships I told you about. The Mythic Dawn must have bought them for Xaro as part of whatever deal they had."
Daenerys smiled as she took the deeds.
"I now have a small fleet for my people. A small army of about five hundred and a small fleet... it's a start."
Daenerys left the house with her dragons in good spirit. She was confident that she would soon see Westeros and her throne