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One Positive Change at a Time (ASOIAF: Viserys SI) Dead.

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Flightless Man, Oct 12, 2021.

?

Future wife (need time to shape things in the chosen direction)

Poll closed Nov 5, 2021.
  1. Brienne of Tarth

    47 vote(s)
    12.1%
  2. Arianne Martell

    158 vote(s)
    40.8%
  3. Margery Tyrell

    184 vote(s)
    47.5%
  4. Asha Greyjoy

    64 vote(s)
    16.5%
  5. Ygritte

    47 vote(s)
    12.1%
  6. Sarella Sand

    22 vote(s)
    5.7%
  7. Nymeria Sand

    31 vote(s)
    8.0%
  8. Tyene Sand

    15 vote(s)
    3.9%
  9. Mya Stone

    44 vote(s)
    11.4%
  10. Rhaenys Martell

    135 vote(s)
    34.9%
Multiple votes are allowed.
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  1. Threadmarks: Chapter 1: Waking as the Dragon
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Inserts are supposed to have time to prepare or get some kind of power to balance things out. Seven year old Viserys has neither of those things, as the Lannister host is already marching on the capital. I try to die painlessly and somehow keep living for more of the suffering Westeros has to offer. By looking only a single step forward in my journey, I find myself quite far indeed from Viserys' original destiny when I do look at where I am.​

    Chapter 1: Waking as the Dragon

    When my eyes flutter open to the light shining onto my face I reach for the light switch, only to find my arm far shorter than it should be. Blinking in shock at the stubby limb better suited for a child, I nearly throw my self from my bed in a panic.

    The crimson silk sheets tangle around my legs and drop me onto the stone floor hard. Gasping as the air is forced from my lungs, I lay in a heap on the floor shivering despite the warm spring air.

    Gazing around the room doesn't tell me much except that this is a very opulent bedroom. The sight of a mirror makes me struggle to my child sized legs and dash towards it.

    The face staring back at me causes the memories of the body to flood back all at once, leaving me unresponsive to the maid who comes to check on me. The face of seven year old Viserys Targaryen stares back at me as I reach up and grab the long silver-blonde bangs hanging in front of my violet eyes.

    A string of thoughts keeps repeating in my mind on a constant loop, while I just pinch and pull at my face until it hurts. Very soon I'm going to Dragonstone, my cousins will die horribly, and I get to live a desperate life on the run before dying.

    When I notice myself begin to hyperventilate I take a few deep breaths and steady myself. Honestly… I'd rather just face a quick end and hope I can make one change for the better before I go. Whatever part of Viserys remains in me is aghast at what happens to Elia and her children.

    "I am Prince Viserys Targaryen and I can do this," I repeat a few times and practice my confident expression in the mirror.

    An amused cough from the doorway makes me whirl in shock, only to find a very young Jaime Lannister standing beside my mother Queen Rhaella.

    "Of course you can my little darling, but I need you to choose your favorite things so we can leave today." She looks near tears and a feeling of dread worms inside of me as she explains. "Your brother lost and the rebels are marching on the city now. We're going to Dragonstone until things are safer,"

    Even though I already know the answer I'm forced to ask anyway. "What about Rhaenys and Aegon?"

    "Your father needs to keep them here as-" My mother winces and tries to hide the reasoning from me.

    "Hostages." My bluntness shocks her into silence, although it is more likely just conditioning from Aerys that makes her flinch backwards when I raise my voice.

    "But that doesn't make any sense, why keep them all in one place?" I dash over to my dresser and with great determination begin to dress myself. "I need to speak to Father now."

    They exchange looks when I say this and I learn exactly how much power I have when Queen Rhaella simply tells me 'no'. She doesn't even let me choose my own clothing, absentmindedly taking the cream colored breeches and hands me a pair of plum ones instead.

    Once she pulls a scarlet doublet over my head, Rhaella grabs the brush and smooths out my hair. "Don't fret Viserys, it's only temporary." She hums to me as I fume silently over how unfair this whole situation is.

    Inserts are supposed to have time to prepare and have a whole training arc before getting thrown into things. Why didn't I get a body that can actually change something, why couldn't I have been one of the children who died?

    Scowling as I'm lead through the Red Keep, I curse my fate. Daeron or Aegon would have given me a proper second life where I could maybe have affected the rebellion's outcome. Even just being Jaehaerys would have left me closer to the age of ten and able to command a little respect.

    Probably could have gotten the Kingsguard to start training me already too. I slow down when we near the throne room and see Elia waiting outside to share her own goodbye with my cousins.

    Sweet little Rhaenys darts forward to wrap me in a hug goodbye but I freeze in her arms. I won't let you die. I may not be able to fight the Mountain off… but maybe I can turn him into the Volcano instead.

    I just need to prove my loyalty to Aerys and I'm one of maybe ten people who actually has a chance at that. Being so young and a clear lack of visual threat might be the only reason I'll have even a chance at influencing the madman's decisions.

    Darting around the grieving Elia's own hug, I break into a sprint for the throne room. My cries for Father hit just the right tone of desperation to allow my entry to be unimpeded by Ser Darry. He's currently receiving his final commands for the escape to Dragonstone but I throw myself on the floor between the knight and his king.

    "Don't send me away Father, I promise I'll be good and loyal!" The swirling emotions of a child's body make it easy for tears to spring forth. "I love you… please don't make me go."

    He smirks at my show of obedience and allows me to grovel for nearly a full minute before stopping me with a shiver inducing voice. "My dearest son, if something goes wrong I need you safe."

    "But why aren't Aegon and Rhaenys coming?" I screw my face up into a mask of confusion. "If they are hostages meant to keep Dorne in line, shouldn't one of the children go to Dragonstone?"

    Aerys leans forward and his sneer shifts into what he would call a smile but any sane man would call a grimace. "Why is that my boy?" His yellowed teeth peek through the tangled mass of hair on his fair, making it hard to focus on anything beside the manic look in his eyes.

    "If the city falls Dorne is free to let us die." Thinking fast I make a decision based entirely on who it will be easier for me to rescue by myself.

    "If they are as weird as you always say," I make It look like I'm thinking back on one of his 'wise' teachings. "Shouldn't Aegon and Elia come to Dragonstone?"

    It takes every fiber of willpower inside me not to flinch when a clawed hand begins stroking my head. I'm forced to borrow more from Viserys to keep speaking, because I just want to be as far from this creature as I can get.

    "I won't leave you Father." I firmly declare and put the most worried expression I can muster on my face. "Everyone wants to hurt you, I need to protect you from them!"

    He chuckles at those words and his greasy voice starts to speak again. "If only all had the loyalty of you my little dragon but that is why I need to send you away. They want to hurt you too."

    "I'll jump off the boat and swim back or I'll steal a boat and row!" I'm not strong enough to live the rest of my life on the run or raise Dany into who she needs to be, but I might have just enough fight in me to save one little girl.

    "You are my heir now Viserys." Aerys actually looks touched by what to him must look like his son's desperate cries of love.

    "If Mother has a boy I am unneeded, if I have a sister you can bind her to Aegon." He looks intrigued by something in my eyes as Father gazes deep into them for a sign of something. "I was never supposed to be a King, I just want to protect my family."

    I lose the firmness in my voice and go for a child's desperation now. "Please Father, don't make me go."

    Varys gives me a calculating stare that I only barely catch before he hides it behind his robes. My Father grabs my chin and squeezes until. "If only Rhaegar had your loyal heart, we would not be in this mess." Not loyal, just terrified of the horrors this world brings to everyone the longer they live in it.

    Rhaenys is confused when she is separated from Elia so I grab her hand in my own and whisper reassuringly. "Just stay quiet Rhaenys, you'll see your mother again soon."

    Elia and Mother say a final farewell to us and I lock eyes with the distraught widow. "I won't let Father hurt her, I promise." My intensity stuns the women with Elia being the first to recover.

    "You better, she has no one else here now." Her voice is tight and I feel the pressure build on my very small shoulders.
     
  2. Threadmarks: Chapter 2: Dragons Have Talons Too
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 2: Dragons Have Talons Too
    Thrusting my arm underneath the shelf, I carefully search for anything I can actually wield in the royal armory. All the theories of the Catspaw being hidden inside the castle have been fruitless.

    Three whole days of searching the cluttered room has done nothing but fill me with dread, it hasn’t made Rhaenys any happier with me either. She’s smart enough to know I’m behind her and Elia’s separation yet still too young to understand why I did it.

    “If you help me look, we can go play before supper.” My words do nothing to sway her opinion of me.

    “Don’t wanna.” Glaring back at me when I climb off the floor, I notice to late the dreaded Balerion is missing. The demon in cat form leaps from the top of the shelf and digs his clas into my back. Pain rakes across my back when he slices through my shirt with ease, but I refuse to let a cat beat me.

    I reach for my back and ignore the searing pain when the cat moves to clawing my hand instead. He yowls when I grab him by the scruff of the neck, chomping down on my hand with a savage vengeance.

    Biting my lip to avoid screaming in pain, I hold the beast before me and hiss like a rattle snake. The surprising sound makes Balerion still in my hand and I watch it’s eyes carefully roam the room.

    When he finds no threat the intensity of his stare is turned back on me. Unblinking I return the gaze with all of my own pent up fury… and I have a whole lot inside me right now.

    I only release Balerion when when he submits after what feels like five hours but wasn’t even that many minutes. “We both want to keep Rhae safe, you’re only making it harder!” I don’t know why I expect a cat to understand but I vent anyway.

    “Stop being mean to him!” Rhaenys makes her own displeasure known by kicking me in the knee as hard she can. She grabs her pet from me and hisses with tears shining in her eyes. “Stop lying to Balerion, you don’t like me. You made me stay here by myself!”

    The distress in her voice hurts because I know it is indeed my fault she’s so miserable. If I hadn’t interfered Rhaenys would have been happy with Elia until the end.

    “I promise you Rhaenys, I will keep you safe.” She let’s me approach and gingerly wrap my arms around her shoulders. “You are my sweet little cousin and I love you. Right now that means we don’t have time for very much fun.”

    “But I miss Mommy,” She whimpers in my hold, with Balerion finally deciding I am forgiven.

    “I miss mine too Rhae.”

    We stand like that as long as I dare waste time, but eventually I’m forced back to my search. She decides to stand up and cough, a blush of embarrassment dusting her cheeks.

    “Sorry for lying,” She lifts the lid of the only crate she had checked upon entering and said was full of swords. “But I was mad at you.” Inside the crate she’s been sitting on for three days is a collection of jeweled daggers but my eyes lock onto the only one I’ve seen before.

    “Aha!” pulling it free from the sheathe reveals the smoky grey ripples of Valyrian steel and I nearly sob in relief. I can actually stab through armor with this, I might just be able to take someone down with me now.

    I put the blade back in the sheathe carefully and tie it to my belt. Rhaenys wont look me in the eye but does seem to be working up to something.

    “Why did you want me to stay?”

    Oh boy… how do I answer this on a level she can understand. “Because you are the most important person in the world right now and I can’t protect you if you’re far away.”

    “Oh.” She smiles and slides her hand into mine, allowing me to lead her to the kitchens.

    Father has forgone any kind of formal meals leaving me and Rhaenys free to pester the kitchen staff at our leisure. This is where we are found by Jaime, the guards I gave the slip earlier trail behind him with shame filled faces.

    “You must stop running off like this little Dragon.” He smiles at us with relief plain in his eyes. “Besides, I thought you wanted to protect your father. How are you to do that searching the cellars?”

    Untying the dagger draws his and the guards who will likely be in for serious punishment gaze. “With this, I don’t have fire like Father so I needed a talon for now. I can stand guard with you now, I have everything a Kingsguard needs.”

    “You still need a white cloak and to be knighted.” He reminds me with an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “But it would make things easier if you stayed in the throne room tomorrow.”

    “Will you show me how to use Talon?” I really don’t want to cut any fingers off.

    Smiling indulgently at my earnest face, Jaime relents. “I’ll ask the King, but I make no promises.”





    King Aerys is quite amused indeed by my eagerness to defend him and allows Ser Jaime to show me the basics. He is not however happy with Rhaenys’ presence, constantly forced to take breaks and calm her down.

    I get only a week of this tense routine before everything comes to a head. I haven’t gotten the location of the wildfire from Aerys yet and the Lannister forces have already been sighted marching towards the city.

    When the new Hand rushes into the throne room with word of the sacking, my blood becomes thick tarry oil in my veins. No matter how hard I try to do or say something, everything seems to be moving in slow motion around me.

    Father’s snarled command to light to pyre is what finally snaps me from my daze as Jaime dashes after the head pyromancer. Swallowing the last of my fear, I speak with a foreign calmness.

    “Father, a Dragon should light the flames.” I try to share his manic expression but know I come far short of the horror he presents. “Where is the wildfire, I will light it.” I step closer with each word and kneel right in front of him. “We can ascend together like true Dragons.”

    He tells me and loses himself to mad cackling as I stand, fully believing in my words. Maybe I can save two people today. The idea surges into my mind and I don’t hesitate.

    Drawing Talon as I stand, King Aerys has no time or room to react. He can only shriek in agony when I stab into his gut and twist savagely to ensure it kills him.

    “Traitors!” Bloody spittle splatters across my face and he grabs my wrist with a rapidly weakening grip “Everyone is a traitor…”

    “Prince Viserys…” My name is called and I turn to see Jaime with his own bloody blade. “What did you do?”

    It’s hard to look angry, sad, and coldly determined all at the same time but I think I manage judging from Jaime’s own rapidly changing expressions. “He was going to burn everyone… even Rhaenys.” I growl and look over to the terrified four year old.

    “I promised to protect her from the bad people and Father is the worst… he keeps hurting Mother and burning people.” I lose the sadness from my face, only leaving the angry determination. “We need to go now Rhae, more bad people are coming.”

    “Where?” She’s scared beyond belief, but does accept my hand.

    “We’re going to hide until it’s safe.” The answer doesn’t satisfy her, but it doesn’t make me happy either. It might never be safe for us.

    The loose brick in one hallway reveals an old iron key that I stuff in my pocket. “The passageway is in here.” I lead us into the wine cellar and start pressing on the surprisingly clean bricks.

    The single escape tunnel that Aerys deigned to share with his family leads to the sewers but that is exactly what we need right now. Ignoring the shaking in my limbs over having just killed someone, I ‘allow’ Ser Jaime to close the entrance behind the three of us.

    Balerion darts inside the dark passageway just as the stones seal themselves and takes the lead with a confidence I no longer have. The smell makes it far easier than I would like to find the right path, I’m pretty sure even without Jaime’s torch I could sniff my way.

    “It smells gross, can we go somewhere else to hide?” Rhaeyns hisses at my back with one hand pinching her nose shut.

    “No, we need to wait down here for the Northerners to arrive.” My words make Jaime frown and I realize I shouldn’t be expecting salvation from a family so wronged by my own. “I know where my brother took the girl he kidnapped. So you can only come get us when Lord Stark arrives.”

    “What do you mean come get you?” He scrunches his face up like he’s tasted something tart and shakes his head. “I’m not leaving your side.”

    “You have to or I wont be given a chance to talk before my head is bashed in.” My voice is firm and he sighs after a few moments.

    “Only if I can find a safe place to leave you two.” His voice cracks at the end when the green glow ahead of us grows brighter. Iron rungs descend into a seven or eight foot drop to the sewer below, the illumination from the wildfire makes it easy for us to drop down.

    “No one is going to attack us right next to all of this evil, so you just make sure to get me a safe parley.” The shock of me killing my father and being forced to escape the castle is wearing of and Jaime notices my more adult vocabulary.

    “I’m sorry you had to grow up so fast, the Kingsguard should protect the royal family even from each other.” He locks eyes with me and the shame in his eyes would be visible even to a blind man. “We have so many oaths to follow, how do you do the right thing?”

    I smile up at him and absolve him. “You chose the most important one, protect the innocent.” He follows my gaze to Rhaenys and her cat and smiles. “Lots of people in King’s Landing have a Rhaenys of their own and we saved all of them.”

    “When the screaming above stops, I’ll go look for Lord Stark.” Jaime finally relents with a grimace. “The rebel’s banners hadn’t been to far off when my father’s forces reached the gates.”​
     
  3. Threadmarks: Chapter 3: Hour of the Dragon
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 3: Hour of the Dragon
    Voices in the dark soon lead to torchlight flickering against the sewer wall. I grab Rhaenys and push her into a crevice in the wall, drawing my dagger and shaking from the nerves.

    “King Viserys, I have been promised safe passage to the parley by all four Lords Paramount.” Jaime leads a twenty men party made up of each attacker’s forces towards us but they all freeze upon seeing the sickly green glow.

    “He’s going to burn us all just like his father!” One of the Stormlander knights barks out and grabs his blade.

    “I tried to bury it, but Father had too much made.” I stop myself from whining and leave my tone more grim. “I don’t know how many he ordered to light the wildfire, one pyromaniac already tried… I had to stop him.”

    The body of the pyromancer floating in the sewage is seen with a pool of blood around him, making the warriors gasp in shock. “You have to find the rest before anyone lights it!” I hiss at the warriors who are finally realizing the danger. “You can’t let anyone come in the sewers and you need to put those fires out now!”

    The flames are doused in the foul water instantly, leaving us bathed in only the eerie green of the wildfire. With one hand holding onto Rhaenys’, I sheathe my dagger and take Jaime’s in my now free hand.

    “You promise they will let me talk?” I have a few ideas for getting them to separate me from the idea of Aerys, but that requires actually getting a chance to open my mouth.

    “Lord Stark gave his word,” Snarls grizzled a man in Stark colors. “We’re here to make sure you don’t weasel away on us.”

    “I only have one chance to save my family.” My eyes shine with determination and the man finally relents with a grim nod. “I will not run as long as I know they get to live safe and happy lives.” If I actually live through this… I can decide what step two is and maybe think about myself.

    Rhaenys and I are escorted through a devastated city on our way back to the Red Keep. The bodies of the dead and wails of the survivors flood my senses, making this the first day sewage is not King’s Landing’s primary smell.

    “Dragons took that from a lot of us, why do you think you deserve it?” Now it’s a Vale knight’s turn to hiss at me with rage filling his voice.

    “I don’t.” My blunt reply stuns him. “I’m old enough to know how evil my father is. I saw my brother was the same, only Rhaegar was better at hiding it… I should have done something.”

    I get no more snide remarks from my escort and we finish the trip in silence. It’s always hard to listen to a child hate on themselves and I’m going to use every ounce of pity I can get to accomplish my goal.

    “Presenting King Viser-” Jaime starts to introduce us, but I silence him with a firm no.

    My father’s body is gone from the throne but the crimson blood still warns me of my eventual fate. Fast death is preferable to a long drawn out one.

    Looking at the stone faced Tywin doesn’t make me feel as confident as I did earlier but it’s too late to think of something smarter. I’m going to be forced to rely on Robert and Ned’s love for Lyanna, with what ever practicality I can reach inside Jon Arryn.

    “That is one of the things I want to speak with you all about.” I start to speak, but the impatient Baratheon does exactly what I wanted.

    “Where is she!” He bellows at me and I only now realize how big the man really is. I don’t think I could even reach his heart if I jump.

    “She’s in Dorne and I’ll only say where when you let me finish talking.” My gaze roams the four men who will decide our fates very soon. “You promised… or are you all just liars like Father?”

    Taking a deep breath I steady my nerves and step forward once I’m assured of my chance by Lord Arryn. “For most of my life I have been scared of the throne and those who desire it. Father would burn people and hurt mother.”

    “Rhaegar acted more and more like him every day as his desire for the throne grew.” I walk between them and grab my father’s golden crown from the throne. “I don’t want you all to grow mad fighting over it.”

    “If I adicat… abduct.” I frown and pretend to look for the right word, prompting Jaime to provide it with a sad smile.

    “Abdicate.”

    “Yes, that.” I thank him and take another deep steadying breath. “If I name Lord Baratheon my heir and abdicate, will you let Mother live and Elia take my cousins to Dorne? Rhaenys and Aegon can take the Martell name since Father never considered them real Dragons.”

    Jon Arryn seems on board with ending this fast and decides to speak before the angrier lords. “What about your mother Rhaella?”

    Reching for my waist I untie the Valyrian steel dagger from by waist and slowly hold it out to Tywin.”I always wished you had been my father and I know you want Valyrian steel blade. Would you accept my own as a dowry for Mother’s hand?”

    He takes the blade and widens his eyes in shock upon unsheathing it. “I want a Valyrian steel sword… this is a far cry from that.” His shock is quickly replaced with the usual scorn.

    “It was all I could find, or Ser Jaime would already have it at his side.” He’s not quite convinced to keep me alive yet, time to sweeten the deal. “I know you ruled the Realm and not my Father. I care not the affliction that your son has, I would betroth Rhaenys to him.”

    “What about you?” Lord Arryn asks cautiously, finding he is the only one without gain from this exchange.

    “I would recognize you raised men of honor and ask you to do the same with Aegon when he comes of age to be warded.” Looking Lord Stark in the eyes, I look as contrite as possible. “And I would ask you to be the one to take me hostage Lord Stark, until you deem me ready to swear my oaths at the Wall.”

    With no delusions of me finding great skill of arms I am fully aware that this will lead to my death. “If you accept my terms I will end the war today and kneel before all.”

    “Where is my sister.” Ned isn’t asking his time and I reward his patience.

    “The Tower of Joy. He wanted a Visenya and said that was where she would come into the world before he left for the Trident.” I let the tears flow free now and try to gain what sympathy I can.

    “We aren’t sending an innocent child to the Wall.” Ned is of course the first to break. “If my sister truly is in Dorne we will decide your fate on my return. If you are lying… that makes you no longer innocent.”

    “This will leave us with three Targaryen children, four if Lyanna is with child.” Adds Lord Arryn making me correct the out of date information.

    “Five.” I shrug at the frowns and explain my Mother’s recent condition. “Mother is with child again.”

    Tywin is next to realize the implication and almost purrs in satisfaction at finding a way into the alliance he will now be left out of if Lyanna lives. “Which would leave us and Lord Tully each a child.”

    “And if the boy is lying we send him to the Wall.” Growls Robert softly as the possibility of Lyanna’s return begins to calm him down. “Still leaves Hoster and you two with one.” He nods at Tywin and Jon before sharing a long look with Ned. “You don’t want us killing children, is this good enough for you?”

    “You’ll let her child live?” I knew I could count on Ned’s inability to kill a child.

    If she has one, you’ll be the one to raise the Stark in Winterfell.” Robert is back to barely contained fury. “I won’t be able to keep my temper for long around any of the Dragonspawn.”

    Trying to make sense of where each of us will end up, Jon Arryn makes his calm voice heard when Robert takes a breath. “Lyanna’s child will be raised in the North as a Stark, Rhaenys will be wed to Lord Tywin’s son, and I will raise Aegon… what of Viserys and his sibling?”

    “Let Hoster wed Rhaella instead of myself and he can raise that child.” Tywin offers, the loss of his own wife still too close. “Your brother can watch Viserys at Storm’s End, his presence with Lord Stark will only make the Tyrell’s surrender even easier.”

    “Before I forget, I’m releasing my Kingsguard from any vows to the throne.” I smirk internally when the corners of Tywin’s lips turn a fraction of an inch upwards. “It’s better if my cousin Robert chooses those he knows are loyal to him and his queen before any other.”

    Robert agrees with a hearty laugh and turns to a far more eager Tywin. “Since your men slew the Mad King, it’s only fitting that your son Tyrion is named Lord of Dragonstone. Can’t think of a better way to spit on the Dragon’s legacy.”

    “With all here as witness, I name you Robert my heir of my own free will.” I hand him the crown and finish. “And now I abdicate the throne and with it any claim my family has to it now and forever.”

    Letting out a relieved breath when my cousin takes the crown, I feel my hands begin to tremble. I was fully expecting to die today and now it doesn’t even look like I’m going to the Wall… I think my next goal needs to be more thought out than this one was. I really could have haggled better.

    “Stannis will at least get you straightened out on your family tree.” Robert places the golden crown on his head and snorts at how small it is.

    The look Tywin gives me lets me know he is aware of who really killed my father but he’s going to keep it quiet as long as it benefits him to do so. All of my power is gone now, I don’t really know what he expects to gain by holding this over me.



     
  4. Threadmarks: Chapter 4: Scurrying Spider
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 4: Scurrying Spider
    Jon Arryn

    Even with their dismissal from the Kingsguard, a still recovering Barristan Selmy and Jaime have chosen to accompany us to Dragonstone. The reclaimed Lannister heir will bring Rhaella to Riverrun before heading home to send Tyrion and one of his as of yet unnamed uncles to Dragonstone.

    Barristan however will accompany Elia and her children to Dorne with Ned. He is free again to pursue the Lady Ashara and fully intends to do so upon Lyanna’s rescue.

    The very verbose Viserys approaches Ned and I mid conversation on the deck of the ship. The black rock of the island juts out of the bay, looming over the Royal Fleet as a grim reminder of the Targaryen legacy.

    He hesitates before speaking and I wonder where the confidence of yesterday has gone. “You’ll be nice to Aegon wont you? Will you raise him like Lord Stark and my cousin… he doesn’t have a father anymore.”

    “Of course I will Viserys.” It would be stupid of me to alienate the boy when I can marry him or his kin into my own family.

    “Jon will treat your nephew with the same firm yet kind hand he had for me and Robert.” Ned doesn’t hesitate to offer his recommendation of my care, sharing a smile with me over the boy’s head.

    I decide to find out how much of that speech was rehearsed with Ser Jaime and how much was Viserys’ own mind. “What happened to the brave boy who faced down Robert mid fury yesterday? Even I haven’t done that in years.”

    The boy frowns at the island growing larger. “Mother’s going to be so mad at me for this. Or even worse, she’ll just say she’s disappointed in me.” He looks up with a hint of panic in his eyes. “What if Dorne doesn’t surrender? I can’t make them anymore!”

    “Which is why I’m on this boat with you.” I try to calm down the panicking… I’m not actually sure what to call Viserys now that he has abdicated. “I’m going to convince Prince Doran that this is for the best.” While Ned gets his sister with forty of his best men.

    “But I still have to tell Mother what happened.”

    Ned saves me from finding an answer and speaks for both of us. “She already has been sent a raven with news of King Aerys’ death. Lord Tywin was quite insistent on his knights achievement being known.” I don’t know how that massive man Clegane climbed the wall but he and Lorch had been found gloating over the body.

    “What about Elia, I practically gave her children away!” He starts to grow red in the face.

    “I think your mother will just be happy you aren’t going to the Wall and are coming back to her alive.” Explains Ned with a soft smile that makes me confident in how he will be with his own future children. “And both she and Princess Elia will both be aware of the sacrifice you tried to make.”

    Viserys lets a relieved grin grow on his face and looks more contemplative. “But what do I do now?”

    “Make Stannis like you,” I blurt out before I can stop myself but am forced to explain now that I’ve opened that can of worms. “Your niece and nephew still have their Dornish titles, but you and your sibling have none now. It’s up to your cousin Stannis to decide your future.”




    Stannis Baratheon
    The sight of the Royal Fleet approaching fills me with the cold realization that my defiance was for naught. I’m ready to open the gates and surrender the castle only to see no dragon sails.

    The Tyrell forces seem to notice as well and the celebrations outside my walls begin to peter out. Most of the ships land to unload forces with missing Stormland banners and I can only let out a heavy sigh as the Reach camp begins to dismanle itself.

    “Let’s go see who our savior is.” I don’t wait for my newest knight to respond and lead my watchers on the battlements down to ground level. The lone ship approaching my gates better have food with them, because it doesn’t look like the Tyrells left much in the fields.

    By the time the sea gate is cranked up I’ve had time to evaluate those in the landing party. Queen Rhaella and her son are joined by Lords Arryn and Stark.

    “Quite an unlikely crew I must say.” Davos remarks with the surprise I’m unable to show myself.

    “It means my brother has won but neglected to send word.” I snort at the lack of courtesy. “Though why he has sent the Queen eludes me.” Maybe I am to hold them hostage, we are the next nearest relatives.

    “Prince Stannis, it is a relief to see your are well.” The words of Lord Stark make me blink in shock before realizing of course Robert wouldn’t think it important to send word of this. We never saw any ravens shot from the sky, I know you didn’t even try.

    Once I return a greeting of my own, I stare hard at my brother’s best friend. “I assume this means the war is over.” I don’t need an answer to something so obvious, but Lord Arryn gives me one anyway.

    “Indeed though not in a manner you will find easy to believe.” He smiles mysteriously at the Targaryen boy who just has a resigned look on his face. “Viserys named your brother his hair once Aerys was dead.”

    “And then he gave up my families claim to the throne.” Queen Rhaella adds with a conflicted expression. “He is to be raised as your ward here at Storm’s End. I expect you to treat him well”

    “I will do my duty.” Though it doesn’t sting so much when I am rewarded justly. Prince Stannis of Storm’s End is a worthy acknowledgment of enduring the Reach. Maybe Robert doesn’t hate me as much as I once thought.

    “Good.” Lord Arryn speaks again with calm voice that still cuts through the pattering of rain.

    The boy kneels before me unprompted and gives me a serious stare that I normally only see in a mirror. “I promise to listen and be good as long as you will have me, please don’t send me to the Wall Prince Stannis.”

    “Why would I do that?” The sight makes my stomach twist uncomfortably so I pull him back to his feet with a firm hand.

    “If he is caught committing any crimes worthy of facing the King’s justice, that is to be his punishment” Again Lord Arryn comes to my aid with a ready explanation. “He’s the one who suggested it.”

    “Expect regular visits from me and Lord Tully to ensure my son is being treated well.” Rhaella scowls at me and I just nod back stone faced.




    Varys
    With the change in dynasty and my information on Lyanna’s location now only confirmation, I’ve been forced to scramble to safety. It wasn’t easy to replace one of the sailors going South, but it was vital to my plans having any chance of survival.

    The Reach has been left out of this alliance, Illyrio and I’s only hope of success now is that they will be willing to settle for a Blackfyre. I break away from the Stormland lines and cross the barren field for the Tyrell forces.

    If the Ironborn can be turned and the Golden Company will follow the blood… this might only be a temporary setback. Considering the chaos the right assassinations can cause, I remove my disguise before several knights.

    “Lord Tyrell will want to speak with me.” I don’t give them a chance to ignore me and hold up the late King’s seal for an escort to the command tent. I’ll need to send word to Pentos of the change in plans but that should be easy with the Redwyne fleet right offshore.

    The panicking Mace Tyrell latches on to me as a distraction and seems quite distraught to learn of the Reach being excluded from a six kingdom alliance forming around him. Even his adviser Lord Tarly seems intrigued at the promise of the Ironborn being turned against the others.

    “Mother will need to speak with you before anything is decided,” He titters uselessly and I’m forced to agree with the ignorant man. I doubt you have anymore power than Viserys does now but at least the boy is intelligent enough to know his place.
     
    Last edited: Oct 15, 2021
  5. Threadmarks: Chapter 5: Making Friends
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 5: Making Friends
    Viserys

    Watching my mother and Ser Darry leave through the gates of Storm’s End with an escort makes me smile to myself. I did it, everyone survived.

    Elia wasn’t happy with my arrangements, but realizes Dorne isn’t going to be winning this war alone. Even with the Reach helping it’s clear who has won and has begrudgingly accepted the terms.

    To my shock Queen Rhaella was far from mad and in fact very impressed with my actions. She doesn’t even really seem upset over her impending marriage, only sad to lose her name.

    “You will see her again after your siblings birth, this goodbye is not forever.” My new caregiver Stannis turns his tired eyes n me and tries to be supportive. That smile is more of a grimace, but it’s the thought that counts I guess.

    “Thank you for taking me in Cousin Stannis, I promise not to be a bother.”

    He rolls his eyes before leading Renly and I in search of Ser Davos. “While you are here, you will join Renly for lessons every morning with Maester Cressen. Followed by lessons with either Ser Cortnay Penrose or Ser Davos on alternating days.”

    The trip from King’s Landing to here has given me the realization of having no land to my name, but the sea is free for any to sail. I’ve already decided to create a new sigil of my own and work toward a fresh start for my own line. A single headed copper dragon flying above a field of dark blue is as close to the opposite of Targaryen colors as I can get without just taking the Arryn ones for myself.

    I’ve given up the crown and all my power, I’m going to need a way to provide for myself once this fostering is over somehow. I’m not sure how I’ll get the funds for my own ship but at least I have a goal for my own future now.

    Once I have my own Sea Dragon, I can go nearly anywhere in this world. First stop is the Summer Islands… might be the last stop too if the rumors are true.

    “Ser Davos’ son Dale will be joining you for all of them, though his younger one Allard will only share the Maester’s lessons and the ones his father provides.” Explains the nearly twenty year old prince, his stature far more in line with Robert’s than the actor’s in the show. He’s massive… must be six and a half feet at least.

    “I’m learning to sail?” Renly complains.

    “No.” Agrees his older brother with a smirk. “You will be joining me as we appraise our lands. It is our responsibility to see our lands begin the long road to recovery.”

    “All of the Stormlands?” Groans the dark haired boy a year younger than myself. “That’s going to take forever.”

    “Only the ones to see the Tyrell forces.”

    I scrunch my face into a frown and consider the map of the Stormlands only for Renly to blurt out his own concerns first. “But that’s from here… all the way to the Dornish Marches. That’s the same thing!”

    “It’s clear you need to focus more with Maester Cressen,” Corrects Stannis as we arrive to find Ser Davos and his two oldest sons waiting. “Or you would know that only a third of our lands face true hardship.

    In the hall offering breakfast with seconds for all the Seaworth boys are speaking to a red and green checker faced fool. Dale is a year my elder at eight, a head full of shaggy straw colored hair that reaches his shoulders. He has a nervous smile that reveals three missing teeth as he and his father kneel to the two princes.

    Allard is instead half a year younger than Renly, looking to be a very bright eyed and energetic five year old boy. His hair is dark brown like his father’s and cropped in the same style, which means Dale must take more after the absent mother Marya.

    “The noble Stag princes and the Dirty Dragon come to say high.” Patchface jumps to his feet on seeing our approach. “Clever Prince and clever man. Clever boys and clever clever fool, here we stand with a not so clever Wyrm.” The bucket headed man giggles at my scowl brought on by his taunts.

    “The fishes have told me something is wrong with his head.” He ignores Davos’ calls for enough and darts away with cruel laughter trailing behind him. “Oh this I know.”

    “Ignore his words, he just speaks nonsense.” Even Stannis can tell the words had been said with unkindness and tries to brush aside what he believes is my embarrassment. “You are a far cry from the madness of your Father.” The words shook me I’ll admit, but more from the idea of who – or what more likely– is telling Patchface these things about me.

    Davos proves this is one area he is far more versed in than his liege and he smiles down with far more kindness. “Prince Stannis is right lad, the fool doesn’t mean anything by it.”

    “Yeah. His head is the one that’s got something wrong with it.” Nodding his firm agreement, Dale is quick to show his own support. “Kept saying he lives under the sea and singing about the fish having feathers.”

    “Isn’t it funny when he does.” Renly is the only one to think so and frowns when no one else laughs with him. “You don’t like his singing?”

    “He called me dirty and dumb.” Kind of hard to like hearing that.

    Stannis reaches for my shoulder and hesitates, pulling his hand away again before actually touching me. “Word has been spreading that you had been found in the sewers of King’s Landing and what you had done. You will at least be remembered as being different from your crazed kin.”

    “Yeah…. dumb isn’t much better than dirty though.” Didn’t think I’d be the called dirty in a medieval society, nor the stupid one. Kind of thought I’d have at least a little bit of a leg up but it’s turned out they know how to get by just fine and I’m the one needing to adjust to the unfamiliar ways.

    “You did just give away the Realm to my brother.” Renly remarks with a cocky grin. “I never would have done that.” I know you wouldn’t and it will kill you one day.

    Instead of getting mad I just stare back at him firmly. “I know why the Mountain really climbed the castle walls. He was looking for me and Rhaenys, not Father.” He swallows uncomfortably at this detail. “I could have been the dead King or a living nobody who ended the war before anyone else died.”

    “Ser Davos.” I ask the knight with a frown as I think of how much food he could actually have smuggled in his small black boat. “How many more times do you think food could have been brought through the blockade? A single day late on a delivery and it could have been too late.”

    “You are the only one who made it through the blockade?” Stannis mutters ‘or tried’ while Davos just nods with pride. “And you’ll teach me how to sail?”

    “If that is Prince Stannis’ will.” He smiles and pushes his boys towards Renly and I. “These are my boys, Dale and Allard. I hope they don’t slow down the lessons too much, we don’t have much need of our letters back in Fleabottom.”

    “I’m proof anyone can fall and you are proof of the reverse being just as true,” I smile at one of the few good men in this world. “I hope they can be a good influence on me Ser.” May as well get used to treating nearly everyone as my superior, I’m no longer in the game of thrones with my lack of… well anything but a name.

    “Tomorrow you will begin lessons, but today you have for yourselves.” Stannis explains briskly. “Do not get into trouble, my men will be watching. Ser Penrose will begin you on the bow and practice sword tomorrow.”

    Both Renly and Dale are bigger than me by at least a few pounds and an inch, so I’m just hoping not to embarrass myself in the yard. Renly turns to his brother with a hopeful expression on his face.

    “Can we make kites now?”

    “I suppose.” Stannis concedes with amusement in his eyes. “The siege is over so we don’t need to ration supplies. You can take some cloth and string but you will have to cut the wood yourselves.” He waves over a trio of his men just finished breaking their fast. “Ser Staedmon and his fellows will ensure your safety outside the walls. You will listen to them if they give a command, is that clear?”

    “Yes Stannis.” Answering for all of us is Renly, who immediately turns to our new friends’ father. “Ser Davos, what sigil have you chosen for your house?”

    “None yet Prince Renly, I was going to give that honor to my wife after we had finished settling in to our quarters.” The kind man blushes as he thinks of her.

    My cousin sighs at the news and rolls his eyes out of Stannis’ view. “Fine, I guess they can just fly a plain one for now. But you better get one soon, the kites are so boring with only one color.”
     
  6. Threadmarks: Chapter 6: Settling In
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 6: Settling In
    Viserys

    “And who has an azure spiral on a field of yellow?” Maester Cressen asks the four of us in his morning lessons but only Renly looks to have the answer. He’s getting pretty full of himself, having me and Dale to boss around in everything we do.

    “House Wylde of Rain House,” The Prince smirks when we all fail to answer in time. “That’s an easy one.”

    He’s getting the worst parts of both his brothers and it’s only the need to please Stannis that has me still spend my free time with Renly willingly. Robert’s arrogance and Stannis’ condescension are not a good mix for a six year old. Though me not being a very social person doesn’t make it any easier to form bonds, I can’t really blame it all on a six year old.

    It’s taken me far longer than I would like to master the quill, leaving most of my attempts as covered in ink blots as my own skin. Leaving my lessons covered in ink for weeks has basically secured myself with the name given by Patchface and repeated at midday meal by Renly for all to hear.

    The Dirty Dragon is yelled at me more than my own name now, not that I can even really blame anyone. This castle starved because of my family… I’m just lucky it’s only names being thrown at me. I’ve seen some of the other lads in the training yard and a few are rather engrossed with the idea of throwing horse shit at me. It’s a whole copper piece for whoever can hit me in the face.

    “Good Prince Renly now let us see if your cousin can answer this one on his own.” Cressen gives me a curious stare. The vast disparity in my skills and knowledge have begun to be noticed by the intelligent man and I’ve certainly noticed our lessons tailored to finding out my exact limits.

    I’ve always been horrible remembering faces same as all the sigils. The House names at least I have nearly all memorized, though with no idea of any colors.

    “Viserys.” He considers who to ask about, his forehead creasing in deep thought. “Three argent bars diagonal on a field of violet?”

    It’s not Gower or Selmy. I close my eyes and try to imagine the knights I had seen on my arrival, dozens of faded shields arrayed behind Stannis. “I know House Swygert has those colors, is it them?”

    “House Hasty,” Corrects the Maester as he makes a note of something. “Swygert has a scroll bordered by silver. One last Sigil before I release you for your ‘grand battles’ for the day.”

    He gives Dale and Allard a conspiratorial wink before asking both myself and Renly about this final sigil. “Black ship on a field of grey, with a white onion on the sail?”

    I know this one! Renly however is for the first time left floundering on whose sigil it is.

    “You’re making that one up.” The Prince guesses but Cressen just shakes his head in the negative. “I’ve never heard of that sigil.”

    “It’s a new one,” I correct him, which only makes the Maester’s eyes twinkle. “And that means it’s the Seaworth’s sigil. Only new House I know of in the Stormlands.”

    “Excellent deduction Viserys.”

    Renly however isn’t so pleased with this news. “But Dale, that sounds so boring… why did your family choose something so plain?”

    “My mother chose it,” Defends the older boy. He’s clearly uncomfortable arguing with a noble born but won’t let his mother’s work be mocked. “She made it herself.”

    “Did she just not have color?” Presses Renly obliviously. “I can ask my brother to give her some of our dyes and fabric to choose from.”

    “Good heart, black past, and a background showing Ser Davos is made of both.” Dale gives me a grateful look when I draw the Prince’s attention with the comment. “But if it matters so much to have one appealing to the eyes Renly, I’ll let you help with mine own.”

    My cousin grins wide and eagerly agrees. “You had better. Those scribbles in your chambers are horrible, I can’t let you embarrass yourself with any of those!”

    “So kind of you Cousin.” He doesn’t hear me sarcasm in his smug glee.

    “I know.”

    Cressen calls a reminder before we reach his door. “Make sure to wash before eating, I don’t need another lecture from Stannis over your appearance. You represent him now, remember that and you will find your stay here far easier.”

    The man must be delusional, this has been a dream compared to the nightmare that was King’s Landing. Giving him an awkward smile I follow Renly out of the room.

    No more worrying about keeping children alive and no more crazy man who could burn my alive at any moment. All I have to do is stay out of trouble, follow Stanns’ instructions, and if I can do that… I have a life of freedom to look forward to. I can be good for nine years, it’s not that long.

    “You frown more than Stannis, why are you always so sad?” I walk into the back of Renly and he considers my expression. “Is it because I’m the Prince now and not you?”

    The raw concern on the six year old’s face is why I can’t actually hate him for his occasional arrogance. He’s not a bad kid, just one trying to figure out how everything works now.

    “No. I never thought I was going to be King anyway and once Aegon was older I wasn’t going to have anything.” I smile at him to reassure him I’m not blaming him for my own choice. “This just means I don’t have to pretend I matter anymore.”

    “But you’re a Targaryen,” He blurts out with a frown creasing his brow. “You’re always going to matter.” He laughs at my face as I process this new information.

    “But I don’t wanna.”

    Dale shakes his head firmly. “Yes you do. People who don’t matter… they disappear all the time.”

    “So why are you always sad?” Renly can’t let his curiosity go and presses me for an answer.

    “I miss my family.” That’s got to have enough truth to satisfy the boy.

    He does indeed and looks embarrassed. “Oh… yeah.” For him the last few weeks have given him time to smile again, for me it’s only given me time to dwell on my decisions.

    I betrothed Rhaenys in hopes Tywin wouldn’t kill her before the day was over, but now that she’s going to have a hopefully long life… the downsides have started to make themselves apparent to me.

    She’s going to hate me once she’s old enough to understand. All of them probably will really, except maybe Jon. Wait… will he even be called that now? Lyanna will be the one naming him after all.

    “Well me and Stannis are your family too, so I’ll let you decide what Ser Cortnay teaches us today.” Renly offers with a friendly grin. “Do you want to show off with the bow again, or are we going to laugh when you get scared of the horses again?”

    “I’m not scared!” I deny the truth as Dale and Allard giggle behind me. “I’m just… cautious around them.” Yeah, let’s go with caution.

    “He was crying when his horse went fast!” Allard blurts out with a five year old’s cruelty and I blush red.

    “It was the rain.” I insist firmly and ignore anymore teasing to the contrary. “Because I was going so fast.”

    Renly stops laughing first and gives me an out. “Okay fine, I can beat you both with training swords again.” He has a cocky smirk that I have a sudden urge to knock from his face. Okay, I guess his attitude is getting to me more than I would care to admit.

    “Only if Dale keeps holding back,” I finally have something to fire back with, though it makes the Seaworth go still.

    “What do you mean, I’m just not very good.”

    “Even I know you’re the best of all three of us, I’ve seen you keep practicing after we go inside.” He doesn’t like being called out on it, but I don’t care.

    Training is the only time he’s allowed to hit us and if he’s holding back, none of us will improve at the speed we could. “Can you show me how to stop dropping my sword when you hit mine so hard my arms shake?”

    “You hold it too tightly, it doesn’t let you absorb enough of the shock.” He tries to think of the right way to explain it, pursing his thin lips in thought. “It’s like holding onto a dog, too tight and you strangle it. But too loose and it breaks free from you to roll around in the dirt.”

    “Why can’t Ser Cortnay say it like that, I understood that!” I throw my hands up and whine. “He just tells me to get the feel of it with practice.”

    Dale’s eyes slide over to Renly briefly and I understand. Renly has only been bested in our archery lessons and that’s just because I had some experience with it at summer camp.

    I’m not some miracle shot, but I’m far ahead of my beginner friends. My arrows go forward almost every single time. But Dale is only the son of a freshly raised knight, Renly may not take a defeat from him as well.

     
  7. Threadmarks: Chapter 7: Time to Think
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 7: Time to Think
    Viserys

    Yanking the knot tightly under Davos’ approving gaze I take pride in my work and toss the cage into Shipbreaker Bay. It disappears under the waves quickly and drifts below the anchored dock.

    “I’m done!” Dale calls over to us from the floating square beside the small boat barely big enough for three. “But this is all going to wash in a few days, it just seems like a waste of time.” He’s done as I asked and created a series of red rings with berry juice.

    “Good thing we’re supposed to check these every day ain’t it my boy?” Smirks the Onion Knight who looks far more like a dashing scoundrel without the grey in his hair. “If it works even a bit, Stannis wants a score more of these made ready this year.”

    Dale scowls at me, the idea of this now being one of our chores has some form of childish revenge brewing in his mind. I just wanted something to shoot arrows at from the top of the East wall and maybe swim to on warmer days. Davos is the one who came up with hanging crab traps from my giant bulls-eye and Stannis is quite eager to find new ways to stockpile food.

    “Don’t make faces at people!” Davos splashes his son as he delivers a stern warning. “Viserys might think it’s funny but your mother and I don’t. None of the other Lords and Ladies will either, yo wan them to set their squires on you in the yard?”

    “Are they all as bad as you Viserys?” I get a tongue in my direction right before Dale leaps onto the little boat with his families new sigil on the sail. “Or can they least put up a fight?”

    “Just remember what I told you.” Dale is pretty good, even Ser Cortnay has said he has real talent several times. But he doesn’t have that edge to move him above best of the average without dedicating his life to practicing.

    He does and scowls at the reminder. “I know but I never dreamed I could be a knight before, it’s hard not to give it my all now that it’s so close.”

    “Knights get to take a new name…” I realize the implications and finally have a way to avoid all the politics. How much use do I really have once even my name is gone?

    “New colors and a hair cut, now you’re looking at a new name.” Davos smiles at me and I welcome how easily has taken to looking out for me. “Your mother won’t recognize you when you arrive for her wedding.” He and Stannis seem to be the only adults in Storm’s End who don’t hate everything about me.

    “You need a squire Ser Davos, do you not?” Grinning back eagerly at him, his expression shifts to uncomfortable uncertainty. “I could be yours, I’ve been really good the whole time I’ve been here.” Four weeks isn’t really a long time but it is to a child, which is how the world sees me.


    He doesn’t seem nearly as eager by my request and puts off answering one way or the other for now. “I’ll need to speak with Prince Stannis first. I don’t think it would be proper for me to be your knight.” His words leave me to grumble all the way back to shore, thinking of how I will convince Stannis to allow this.





    About an hour before sunset I wolf down my supper and scurry up on top of the walls to my already waiting supplies. My bow and quiver rests atop an old wooden stool covered in minor damage, a bucket of triangular stones sits beside it.

    A pile of the arrow shafts deemed unfit for the castle’s supply have feathers poorly attached and I can only hope they go straight enough to reach the dock. It’ll at least give me something to aim at I guess, even If I can’t get a single hit.

    I have to tie the stones to each shaft myself and it takes almost half of my time to have a few dozen ready to go. My first few shots barely make it into the water at all but soon I learn to time my shots with the gusts of wind.

    Halfway through the bundle of arrows I finally score a hit on the dock, though I only just struck the corner. My fingers start to sting soon after my only success of the night and I’m forced to stop before loosing all my arrows.

    “Impressive dedication, though your aim is in need of improvement.” Without catching my attention, Stannis stands behind me on the battlements and only speaks in his measured voice when I put down the bow.

    “Thank you, it’s something I can practice by myself.” No one besides Renly and Dale like to fight fair in the yard, it really just turns into me getting ganged up on when I stay after scheduled practice. “And I can’t get into trouble with Renly if I’m too tired to keep up.”

    “He has gotten a rather strange obsession with looking for secret passageways.” My cousin helps me collect my gear with amusement in his eyes. “I assume that was your doing?”

    I only asked if the castle had any like the Red Keep, I didn’t think he’d spend every free moment searching the castle. “I just thought he’d answer my question with a yes or no, he’s the one who wants to find them.”

    “He hides it with bluster around you and Dale, but the siege gave him many new nightmares he seeks to ignore.” Shares the dour faced Prince. “I have also been told what you asked Ser Davos.” Here it goes, time to get yelled at.

    “You don’t find that to be beneath you?” He asks slowly and waits in silent judgment for my answer.

    “Doesn’t his family outrank me now?” I’m higher than a lowborn or bastard, but below anyone with even the lowest knightly family.

    “Only on paper, but in the eyes of anyone with a grudge or ambition… you will always be a prince.” His advice makes sense and I can only be relieved he is treating me so fairly. I don’t think he even likes having me here but he is still giving my care his best effort.

    I guess this means I need to make another friend… great. Not like everyone wants to spit on me or anything. “So I can’t be Ser Davos’ squire?”

    “You are a little young for it still,” My guardian answers carefully, only making me squirm at having to wait. “… But maybe you could serve as his page, he needs even more knightly education than yourself. You can ensure he gains the proper knowledge and he will impart his knowledge of the sea.”

    “Yes!” Anything for even the illusion of freedom.

    “You will need to continue lessons with Ser Cortnay though and I expect you to give those lessons the same dedication as I have seen tonight.” His voice actually sounds pleased with me and I find myself craving more of that tone.

    “I will, I promise!”

    He doesn’t pull his arm back this time and gives me a few pats on the shoulder. “I know, it was wrong to think you would be more trouble than Renly. You are not just another punishment from my brother.”

    “I keep my promises, my word is all I have right now.” I said I would behave for Stannis and I will, it’s only nine years.

    “That is the mark of a good man,” Remarks Stannis, his teeth grinding as he remembers those times he had been lied to. “See you keep that trait in you and you will always be welcome within my walls.”

    He actually likes me… wow. The relief I feel from having proven myself in his eyes comes with a wave of exhaustion. As soon as it does my arms begin shaking and I feel the ache in my fingers.

    “You will need to have a maid look at your hands before bed.” The roll of his eyes nearly makes me giggle but somehow I contain it. “Your mother will not be pleased to find you disfigured at her wedding.”

    It’s only a few months away and I just hope she likes Hoster Tully. Though it’s definitely going to be better than Aerys, so Dany is really the one I fear resentment from.

    I hope Rhaella survives the birthing, but I fear the wedding will be the last time I see her alive. She had a Maester on Dragonstone, it’s not like anything I’ve done should affect her birthing. Lyanna at least may be saved with a healer present since she never had one, but I know in my heart I’m going to be an orphan soon.

    “And I expect these injuries to affect your training tomorrow, more often than not you will be forced to fight hungry, tired, and in pain.” He hands me off to a passing maid with a firm command before bidding me goodnight.

    Her face makes it clear how displeased she is to be touching the Dirty Dragon, though the expression softens a touch when she sees my bloody hands. “Come along Viserys, lets get those hands cleaned up.”

     
    Last edited: Oct 17, 2021
  8. Threadmarks: Chapter 8: That's Sneaky
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 8: That’s Sneaky
    Alliser Thorne

    The iron shackles chaining my wrists to the hull have started to rub the skin raw and I just want to wrap them around that damned cowards throat. Jaime Lannister handed King Viserys right to his father and the other invaders, no doubt forcing him to surrender the throne.

    Even as Jeremy and I led a defense on the walls, the city burned below us at the hands of the Lannisters. The Wall or my life left me no choice but to take the black, with nearly a hundred guardsmen choosing the same fate.

    Good loyal men and now we go to die with criminals in the snow. The recruiter lies well but I know this will be no grand adventure. The only reason good men go willingly to this death sentence is to stop the rest of the scum from revolting.

    When the deck hatch flips open to spill blinding light upon us in the hold, I close one eye immediately to keep some of my sight for whatever happens next. A body falling inside with is not what I expect, nor the cheery greeting from a vaguely familiar voice.

    “Who here actually wants to go North and freeze?” No one answers the man who climbs down the iron rungs. “Didn’t think so. So show of hands, who would rather turn this ship South and put our King back on the throne?”

    He turns to face us and I can finally recognize Lord Jon Connington, once the Hand of King Aerys. “All of you want to see justice done… good.”

    Snorting at the fact our hands are suspended above us, I find myself wondering where exactly he plans to go and if he even means the right King. “What about the rest of the crew?” We still have nearly forty armed men to defeat if this going to work.

    “A friend helped me replace enough with our own allies, the rest decided to swim for shore.” He unlocks my shackles first, the benefit of having the stones to speak “Now who would you be? You’re not some lowborn.”

    “Ser Alliser Thorne at your service Lord Connington,” Once I’m free I rub feeling back into my aching wrists. “Sers Rykker, Celtigar, and Rambton are also true to the Targaryens.”

    Better not make my own preference for Viserys known yet, Connington was one of Prince Rhaegar’s closest friends. Besides, I’m not even sure my fellows will agree with me.

    “If anyone doesn’t want to join me in the Stepstones you had better start swimming now.” He smirks arrogantly and I grit my teeth silently at the sight of it. “We’re almost past Tarth and will be sailing out of sight of shore soon.”

    “But that’s full of pirates!” Complains one of the more cowardly guards with a petulant whine. “Why go to the Stepstones?”

    “Because it will conceal our planning until we are ready.” Explains the pacing Lord Connington with blind confidence in things working exactly the way he wants. “It’s going to take time to gather those loyal to our cause and no one will mind us keeping our skills sharp on pirates while we wait.”

    Following him up into the afternoon sun I squint until my eyes adjust. Some of the crew is swabbing parts of the deck, the water coming away pink. Swam to shore my ass, you just want to come across all heroic so no one rejects you.

    Counting the current crew and comparing them to how many I saw while being led on board, it looks like we’re down about fifteen men. The ‘missing’ sailors are already being replaced with those of us that have any experience on the waves.




    Oberyn Martell
    “He betrothed Rhaenys to the Imp!” The news shocks me to my feet and I need to pace off this anger. “How could you accept such an offer?”

    Rhaenys hears my outburst as she plays with Sarella and Tyene in the water, the happy splashing coming to an end without myself being aware. Elia though just crosses her arms dismissively and snorts at my rage.

    “The only reason my children and I are alive right now is because of Viserys.” My sister isn’t wrong, but my darling niece and the boy’s own mother are the ones paying for his terms of surrender. “He did as promised and kept Rhaenys safe for me. I will not blame a child for my late husband’s actions.”

    “He could have tried harder, instead of throwing her at the littlest Lannister.”

    Understanding hits Rhaenys over what is being discussed and she ends up being the one to silence me for now. “Is being little bad?” Scrunching her face up in adorable worry soothes my fiery blood. “… Am I bad?”

    “Of course you aren’t dear, your uncle is just being himself.” My brother side steps answering the question with a glare leveled at me. The unspoken insults hang thick in the air between Doran and I, while Rhaenys doesn’t seem bothered.

    “I don’t care if my husband is little,” She firmly decides with the same determined eyes as her mother. “Viserys is little and he’s nice. Grand Father was big and he scared me.”

    I’m not going to change a Martell woman’s mind once they decide on something, so it’s best I get on board now… or at least keep my plotting far more secretive. “So long as Tyrion is nice to you, this doesn’t bother you?”

    She thinks about it for a little bit longer and comes up with a few more criteria that I will be sure to pass along. “I miss Father singing to me… I hope Tyrion knows how to play something. And Balerion has to like him.” That condition we can both agree on.

    “Those are very fair terms,” My sister holds a hand over her mouth to hide the amused smile. “What about the rest of you, what do you demand in your future husbands?”

    Arianne and Obara take the time to consider it over the game of stones the two are playing, Sarella however needs no such time to decide. “He needs to be smart… and take lots of baths.”

    “I won’t marry a man Father can defeat.” Counters my second eldest Nymeria and I can only smile at the false belief. It will not be me who faces your eventual suitors, you are well on your way to having the skill to do so yourself.

    “What about you Tyene, what’s most important in a suitor?” Elia asks the most shy of my four girls with a welcoming voice. Tyene and Sarella have only seen my sister a couple times but Sarella is to curious to let the nerves win out.

    “Someone fun, I don’t want some boring old man.” She turns her nose up promptly at the idea.

    Obara goes next with prompting from my niece who has yet to make up her mind. “If they can make me laugh, I guess it doesn’t really matter who I fall in love with.” At least one of you is thinking straight, I’m going to need to speak with your sisters about their priorities.

    “Whoever Father decides will be my best match.” Grumbles Arianne finally, making my brother roll his eyes at her anger. She didn’t like learning how easily Rhaenys and herself could just be given away and will be my ally in sharing the truth of Viserys.

    He might just be a boy but after Rhaella’s wedding… Viserys will be the last Targaryen left with the name. It may seem like he’s given each Kingdom an equal hostage but outside of Dorne he will be the one followed in reclaiming the throne.

    Aegon has six years before he is off to the Vale and Rhaenys will be off to the Rock that same year to my sister’s grim acceptance. Tywin demands his due and he will ward Rhaenys to ensure she is a fit bride for his son. Though I think it’s the first time he’s ever called Tyrion that in writing.

    “I hope Viserys ends up with a Frey, he’ll disappear like he wants in that swarm of weasels.” My brilliant comment gains no laughter, only a pair of raised eyebrows from my siblings. “What? That was hilarious.”

    “No need to lie Prince Oberyn,” The voice of Arthur Dayne comes from the door behind me and I whirl about to see him and Ser Gerold Hightower standing at ease. “It was amusing, but your true talents lay elsewhere.”

    “Ready to finally take me up on that offer?” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively but only get an amused chuckle from the ‘Sword of the Morning’. “I’ve heard your oaths are at an end.”

    Ser Gerold is quick to correct me with a voice that sounds like rocks are being chewed with each word. “Our vows are for life, no matter what Prince Viserys declared.”

    “So why are you here, shouldn’t you be keeping Lyanna Stark a prisoner off in some tower?” Elia snarls with far more heat than I expected.
    “With over forty men and Ser Selmy in Lord Stark’s company, it was clear our presence was demanded by our King’s side.” Now that’s exactly what I needed to hear, someone else is going to fight for my nephew. Though I must admit he prestige of crowning him on my own has a certain idiotic appeal.

    “What about Whent and Selmy?” Demands my brother with a false calm. “Why aren’t they with you if this is true?”

    Arthur answers promptly, even as her lifts a giggling Rhaenys into the air for a ‘dragon ride’. “Whent has gone to join Ser Darry at Rhaella’s side for her child’s birth and Selmy has gone with my Sister to Storm’s End.”

    “Who is to care for Lyanna’s child?” Growls Elia with venom in each word. “Rhaegar’s precious Visenya.”

    “… She was a stillborn.” Gerold takes a second to answer, his eyes locking with Arthur’s before doing so.

    The Dayne takes over the explanation soon after. “My sister and her new husband are the ones with a child…” He turns his stare to me now and shifts it into a scowl of his own. “It was bold indeed of him to claim her right under my nose. He hopes to have him legitimized and swear himself to Stannis Baratheon’s services until we are ready to act.”

    “You will do nothing that endangers my children!” Elia hisses and seems to tower over us in her rage. “If they want to try for the throne once they are adults grown so be it, but you will not push them back into another war they have no interest in.”​
     
    Last edited: Oct 18, 2021
  9. Threadmarks: Chapter 09: Melting Hearts of Stone
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 09: Melting Hearts of Stone
    Viserys

    My name day comes with a cloud of tense uncertainty as I shuffle towards the table quietly. Patchface isn’t in the hall yet and I let out a relieved, taking my seat between an eager Renly and incredibly quiet Dale.

    “The other boys are going to start arriving today, it’s going to be so much fun!” He’s by far the most excited for the other children being warded by Stannis, while Dale and I are far more realistic about our reception.

    “I thought we already had fun.” Mumbling under his breath with no enthusiasm, Dale stirs at his porridge absently.

    Renly either doesn’t hear or want to acknowledge the complaint and keeps his bright eyes locked on mine. “And you get gifts!” You really don’t like being faced with confrontation at all.

    He pulls his own out from under the black tablecloth and thrusts the dark blue folded fabric at me. He nearly bounces in his seat as I accept it, carefully holding the new winter cloak up for all to see.

    “It’s beautiful Prince Renly,” Maryah Seaworth gushes over the design of a single headed bronze dragon diving into indigo waves. “You have an excellent eye for taste.” A border of bronze dragon fangs give the appearance of a maw chomping down and I’m touched by the care put into it.

    “I picked the fabric and design but it was Hildy who did the stitching. Ser Cortnay got the beaver fur to line it.” He points to knight who I thought hated me and find him holding up his mug to toast me.

    “I haven’t been the nicest since you came here,” His cheeks go a pale pink, which he quickly hides by downing his drink. “None of us really have and you just took it all without any whining. I’ve made sure the boys stop ganging up on you in the yard, though I don’t expect them to be apologizing for it.”

    Relieved at getting that miracle I’m not worried about boys who remember being hungry and some acting out over it. “Good thing you talked to them now, I was just starting to get used to fighting them all at once.” No, I really wasn’t… but I can’t let it visibly bother me or it’s not going to end after all.

    “I love it Renly.” He claps excitedly as I clasp it around my neck and let the warm cloth cover me. “Thank you so much.”

    “It should help make people see you’re different.” Looking at his brother with a playful smirk, Renly tells everyone why my dragon only has a single head. “Robert told me one of the heads is for greatness, one is for lameness, and the third head of the dragon is for the crazed Targaryens. I only gave you the good head so you aren’t allowed to be crazy.”

    Dale hands me his gift next, a bundle of what looks like over a hundred arrows with stone heads and made with chicken feathers. “The ones you use aren’t straight enough to help you practice, so I hope these are better.”

    “I made you some to!” His brother blurts out with a face splitting grin. “And Pa got you a bow of your own.” Allard spoils his father’s surprise before his brother can stop him with a hand over the mouth.

    When he bites down on Dale’s hand, Davos decides that is enough and hands me a yew wood hunting bow. Attempting to draw it fully proves me far too weak and I’m eager to grow into my only martial talent.

    From his wife I get several pairs of thick wool socks dyed the same blue as my cloak, with a pair of yellow mitts I can tie to my belt. She’s surprised by my hug but does pull me in tight when my whispered ‘thank you’ wavers thick with emotion.

    “Your mother had this sent after arriving safely in Riverrun, I believe she expects you to be able to play a song for her wedding.” The white wooden flute I receive from Stannis is twice the size of the ones I’ve seen before and looks to be played upright like a recorder. I think I still remember how to play one thing.

    Holding it up to my lips makes the adults all plug their ears with groans of anticipation, but my friends at least look eager to listen. When I play a few notes as a test, I grin at finding the finger holes needed for ‘Hot Cross Buns’.

    The Renly and Dale are amazed at the simple song I play for what seems to be the first time, with Allard pulling one of his mother’s fingers from her ear. “Oh. That’s not horrible.” She smiles and unplugs Davos’ ear next.

    “I guess you had to be good at something else eventually.” Allard teases me and ducks away from his brother’s retaliatory swat.

    “Hey.” Defending me like a good cousin, Renly holds up a hand to silence the younger boy. “He’s not scared of horses anymore.” Now the smile shifts to a playful smirk. “He might be good at the lance.”

    I know he’s only speaking in jest but the idea of a different weapon might actually be a good one. It makes me flinch every time I thrust or slash with the training sword, the memory of Aerys’ blood and gargled screams flash in my mind.

    What about something blunt? A mace or flail might sidestep my squeamishness and a knotted rope would work as one in the yard.

    “The Lannisters of the Rock and Dragonstone have each sent gifts,” Explains Stannis as he finishes his own meal. “They await outside with mine own.”

    Hearing that has me wolf down the rest of my breakfast and eagerly jump to my feet. The longer I live as Viserys, the more childlike I find my mannerisms becoming. The thought is washed away when I’m lead outside, a smoke grey mare is saddled for me in the light rain.

    A dozen men in Lannister colors stand beside a thirteenth, though the largest of them is doing his best to ignore his fellows. “Lord Tywin wishes you blessings of health and good fortune, with the hope that this is only the beginning of acquiring such.”

    The well spoken knight must be a Lannister cousin with his golden ponytail and he unwraps canvas from a bundle in his arms. A dragon of solid gold is revealed and it must weigh at least ten pounds. That thing is the size of a chihuahua! “The same size as the ‘Last Dragon’, we hope you no longer feel so alone in the world.”

    “Lord Tyrion wants to thank you for your faith in him and knows that small people need protection as well.” A set of mail armor is present to me emblazoned with burnished bronze over castle forged steel.

    “He had some of your clothing sent from King’s Landing and used as measurements.” A teen’s breast plate and helm with carved dragon scales as a pattern are also held up, both will last at least a few years before needing to be replaced.

    “Whoa… when can I have armor like that Stannis?” My cousin eagerly asks his brother with envy clear in his voice.

    His brother brings these hopes crashing down with the gruff response. “When you finish growing. It’s nothing but a waste of gold to have armor made for only a few years of use.”

    “Is the horse for Viserys too?” Renly’s voice is annoyed and I know I’m going to have hold off on trying to win in the yard.

    “He needs his own when he accompanies me to Riverrun, it was a gift of necessity Renly.” Of course it’s not an attempt to be nice, it’s just practical to use this chance to give me only a single gift. “I’ll get you one when you are ready to join me on a Progress across the recovering Stormlands.” Can’t really blame him though, haven’t gotten anymore supplies from King’s Landing since I arrived.

    The Lannister is annoyed at being interrupted and coughs to draw attention back his way. “Ser Jaime also sent you a sworn sword, brother of the Kingslayer Lord Gregor Clegane. You may have dismissed my cousin from your services, but he still wishes you safe.”

    Lorch may have accepted the honor of a place on Robert’s Kingsguard but the Mountain took Tywin’s offer of a lordship instead. He was given a large swatch of the newly claimed loyalist land, those who have refused to kneel in the Riverlands and I can only assume Sandor was frothing mad over it. The Darry's and Whents are losing land and titles each, though the Dayne's look to hunting for Arthur... or at least the missing Dawn.

    “Was the only way to get out the Westerlands, don’t think this means I’m going to kiss yer ass or anything.” The taller guardsmen off on his own barks out gruffly when he faces me. “I’m here to keep you safe until yer a man grown. I wasn’t paid to be your friend.”

    Well if that wasn’t an offer for bribery, I have no idea what a more obvious one would sound like. “How much would that cost me?”

    “That lizard must be worth a damn lot.” He gazes at the gold dragon with desire and turns back to me with a scowl.

    I know how good of a warrior he ends up being and how I’ll need someone like him to make me at least capable of facing an average soldier. He notices I don’t look at or away from his scars and just treat them like his own choice in facial hair.

    I was sheltered from Father’s madness as best people could but that last week I saw eleven people burn, some light scaring is nothing. His scowl shifts into a satisfied smirk when I hand him the ornate sculpture.​
     
    Last edited: Oct 19, 2021
  10. Threadmarks: Chapter 10: What Was She Thinking
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 10: What Was She Thinking
    Lyanna Stark

    When we anchor offshore from Storm’s End so the Selmy’s can serve Visery I’m left feeling alone. I love my brother but he’s the one who started all of this. If Ned hadn’t told his brutish friend about me I never would have accepted Prince Rhaegar’s offer.

    One child for a ship crewed by those loyal to him and the lie of me being slain by Aerys’ men. Someone had seen me escape in Rhaegar’s presence and everything spiraled out of control.

    I never wanted Brandon and Father to die, I only wanted to be free to find a woman to love. Father is the one who decided to marry off to a Southern man I’d never met and Brandon is the one who shouted death threats in the throne room.

    I refuse to feel guilty about the choices made by adults grown, though I will forgive Ned for his childish love for his friend… if he can ever actually take responsibility and apologize that is. Hugging Ashara goodbye makes me have a reason to be eternally grateful to him though.

    Damn all these mixed up feelings! why can’t hate and love be clean and distinct? Only reason I can hide my son in Storm’s End is because Ned’s daughter died and he has no idea we switched them on him.

    He thinks Ser Barristan is covering for his shame of dishonoring Ashara at Harrenhal but he’s in fact the one being used. If I knew you wouldn’t tell Robert I would have spoken the truth but as it stands now… only Benjen will be told the truth.

    Pressing a kiss to Rhark’s forehead I say a fond farewell to the man who will protect my son with his very life. Barristan will raise you well my darling boy, the shadow of the Delusional Dragon will keep you safe from those who would use you.

    Instead of only seeing you every year or two, I can now have you visit King’s Landing with Stannis… or even encourage the lout to show me his childhood home. It should not go with even a single year before I see you again.

    We don’t stay long and pull up anchor as soon as they gain entrance to the sea portcullis. With our final stop made the crew is eager to return home and hastens to raise sails again.

    “Are you sure this is what you want Lyanna?” MY brother now shows the foresight to ask but I just roll my eyes at how late it is.

    “You said Robert hadn’t even looked at a women since he believed I could be ‘rescued’.” If he can keep that up while we’re married… I guess I won’t need to get rid of Robert once I have a son by him. “It sounds like I may have been wrong about the kind of man he is.”

    I know I was wrong about the men in my own family. We aren’t a pack, only lone wolves standing beside each other. He smiles at me in relief and pulls me into a hug that I only briefly resit he pull of.

    “I should have protected you and I can only hope you one day forgive me.” Maybe, words are only wind until you prove them. “And I hope the loss of your child can be overcome one day. I can not even imagine the pain you must be feeling.” You could if I decided to be honest, but I’ll have to hold that until I can trust this remorse.

    “Just make sure Benjen wears a white cloak instead of a black one and I’ll have someone I can trust down here.” It will be a first step in showing you’ll act on your promises and maybe I can start forgiving you bit by bit.

    Ned snorts and lets me go finally. “Why not ask me to find you a dire wolf?” Benjen has wanted this for a long time and this is something I do feel guilty about. He’s the only one who always had my back with actions and words both.

    “Well you better figure out a way or I don’t think I can forgive you for a long time.” Leaving me alone in the South with no one to trust… not going to make me feel any better about this marriage.

    I’ve been told Robert already has two bastards, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to tolerate him for long. Benjen is going to need to stop me from acting rashly again.

    “I’ll make sure Robert brings you home for a visit soon as he can.” Catelyn will appreciate a royal visit I hope. “Travel South with both of us will need to be rare until I have a child old enough to do the ruling at Winterfell.”

    Hope she’s fine believing you have a bastard, or will you lie and say he’s truly a Selmy? He scratches at the new growth on his cheeks and I have to admit it makes him look more like Father.

    “Keep the beard,” I advise with a smirk. “At least for a few years. If you grow it out, it’ll help your wife think of you as your own person instead of a replacement for Brandon.”

    “Really?” His voice is thoughtful as he strokes his chin.

    “I’m just a woman,” My brother flushes at my crossed arms. “What would I know about anything?”

    He doesn’t have an answer for that and flounders for almost an entire minute before deciding to change the subject. “You really don’t mind if I turn down the offer to be Master of Laws?”

    “You aren’t made for the South, I can understand just wanting to go home.” I can’t, so it’ll be easier to forgive you from a distance.




    Olenna Tyrell
    The litter thumps over a larger than acceptable bump in the road and I remind myself to have a word with our driver once we stop for lunch. Mace’s insistence on bringing enough food to supply three weddings may actually be beneficial, my knees say this wet winter is soon to end.

    “You just make sure to befriend Viserys,” My words have Garlan promptly nod like a good grandson and I can see in his eyes the order is understood. “He might have given the crown up… but we can always put it back on his head.”

    Once Varys infiltrates Riverrun during the wedding we’ll have a way to ensure Rhaella dies in childbirth. It’s a shame to lose a good woman like her, but I can’t afford for her to have anymore children. I can understand Stark and Baratheon for overlooking the fact Rhaella may have more children, they are barely men themselves.

    Arryn and Lannister though… how did they forget this is a very fertile woman. Away from the abuse she could give Hoster control of the Realms future and I can’t have that.

    “I will Grandmother,” My gallant rose promises with all the seriousness in the world. “I’ll make sure he is a good match for Margaery and tell you if he acts crazed in anyway.” I know you will, you and Willas have my brains for sure.

    If the Hightowers don’t surrender soon Garlan will be given the seat and Oldtown. Our new King has been distracted and overwhelmed with all his confidants on missions, he has come to believe the rumors of Mace’s involvement in his lone defeat.

    Robert knows my son was not on the field, but does think he sent Randall ahead with the van instead of the Hornhill Lord leading his own men independently. I frown at how many of our vassals are unhappy right now and consider how to appease them.

    “Lord Tarly is not happy settling for his son being Willas’ squire, you might need to take on the next one he has.” And get him a position on Viserys’ Small Council.

    If you think that’s best Grandmother, I know better than to argue.” Why couldn’t Mace have been more like his children, all of you are exemplary. I don’t allow myself to consider this preference is only a grand parents ability to spoil instead of raise the children.

    “Viserys is friends with both his cousin and the son of a newly raised knight.” It shows he’s better than his father, but we need to make sure it doesn’t lead to more reforms. “I expect all of you to treat the smallfolk well, I don’t wan an off hand comment ruining his opinion of our family.”

    We fought for his family until the end and without needing a hostage, Viserys had better be thinking of us in his plans to reclaim the throne. Once the reminders have been given I can relax and enjoy the time with my more intelligent family members.​
     
  11. Threadmarks: Chapter 11: Pride
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 11: Pride
    Jaime Lannister

    Father listens to Damion’s report with irritation growing on his face with every word. I just roll my eyes when my cousin finishes and is waved out of the room with his party.

    “I told you giving him something from the sack of his home wasn’t a good idea.” Viserys is smart enough to see the insult and turned it to his benefit.

    “It was from one of the storerooms, when did he have a chance to see the dragon?”

    “When he was looking for Talon.” And now a third stress wrinkle, next will be the throbbing vein on his neck. “He was running off for days unsupervised, who knows what he saw.”

    Father gives me a hard stare and I feel my palms get itchy. “With the Hightowers about to lose everything, I have decided to accept the offer for your hand.”

    “What?” Cersei defends me in my stunned silence.

    “Some girl Lynesse’s hand for Castamere and her hefty dowry of half the wealth in the Hightower for the land around the ruins is a good trade.” He drawls back at my indignant twin. “Most of the worthy woman of this generation have already been claimed. As long as your brother and Tygett move fast, they can have most things of value loaded on ships before the Tyrell’s return South.”

    The hard stare comes back my way and Father nods stiffly. “I will do my best to prolong the festivities.” He nearly shudders at this. “And Lord Clegane’s men will slow the Tyrell host once they leave Riverrun.”

    His men are savage, but I don’t see how a hundred brigands will delay them more than a single day. Unless that’s where all of the men in the cells have really been going. The Mountain might have over four hundred criminals joining his services.

    “You have a task of your own, with Pycelle’s dismissal and reassignment to Dragonstone… Prince Stannis seems your best chance of getting to the throne.” Cersei nearly screeches at this comment but holds it in at the last second. “You are to catch his eye before any other at the wedding has the chance and you will make him fall in love with you.”

    “Yes Father, I won’t disappoint you.” She concedes with a tight smile that does nothing to detract from her stunning beauty.

    “Not a second time.” She visibly deflates at the comment and I find myself hating Father’s cruelty being aimed at those I love most. Viserys achieved all of his goals by caring about his family… why can’t you at least care for us?

    Blame her all you want, but it was your offer Aerys rejected. “Would you have had Cersei be disgraced the same way as Elia was?” My strong willed sister shares a look of gratitude when I butt into her dressing down. “This gives us the chance to get in on the ground floor of a new dynasty.”

    “Robert doesn’t have a son yet. If he dies soon… Stannis will be King.” Father finds an answer I wasn’t trying to lead him to and Cersei seems caught up in the idea. At least she does until he mentions our brother. “And if that fails we can always try again once Tyrion once he whelps his own, he has proven to have some worth after all.”

    “And how will you arrange that, only Lorch is in a position to make a move now.” Cersei has a scowl that could rival one of Father’s best.

    “I will have to accept the position of Master of Coin and see what opportunities arise in King’s Landing.” Somehow he makes it seem like a great sacrifice for our family. “Which will leave you acting as Lord of the Rock. Listen to Kevan, he will teach you how to be a Lannister while I am gone.”

    The look Cersei and I share fills me with both burning heat and the cold splash of reality. Tonight will be our last together, we need to make the most of it.

    “And be on the alert for Ironborn, several ships have been seen trying to sneak past our sentries.” Father clenches his jaw in barely concealed rage. “You will not let them claim the spoils of the Hightowers.”

    It was only four ships, I find it far more likely they want in on the bloodshed going on in the Stepstones. Correcting him without anything beyond a gut feeling is a lesson in stupidity I learned well in my youth and I refrain from doing so now. Since I’m going to Old Town apparently, may as well just ask them if they saw the Ironborn.




    Tyrion Lannister
    For the hundredth time my stubby fingers strum a second string and ruin my attempt at playing the most basic song. Rhaenys should have asked me to be a warrior like her father instead, I could have died pretty easily.

    “This stupid thing is impossible!” I fling it onto my bed while Gerion just sends my instructor from the room with a warning to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll never be able to play a song.”

    He sits beside me on the scarlet silk and puts a gentle arm around me. “Do you know how long it took me to beat anyone in the training yard?” Before I can answer he adds a little bit more with a chuckle. “And I’m not talking about the ones scared of hurting a Lannister.”

    “No… why does that matter?” A harp and a sword are completely different things.

    “You’ve been practicing for only four days and with the same vigor as Jaime gave to his own training with a blade.” Gerion lets me go and grabs the discarded instrument carefully. “It took me nearly a month to stoop embarrassing myself, which is why your lessons are up here in your room.”

    “Oh.”

    He smiles warmly at my realization and tries strumming the harp, his fingers doing far worse than my last attempt. “Look at my fingers Tyri,” He holds up a hand and I press mine against his.

    The man sized fingers and palm make me sigh. I’ll never have a hand that big. My favorite uncle sees something else though and wiggles his fingers against my own.

    “See, mine are stubby too.” He grins and lowers his voice. “All of use Lannisters do, it’s why none of us are very good with a bow.”

    “It’s not because I’m a dwarf?” My lips tremble with uncertain hope.

    “It’s because you’re hands are a boy’s and trying something it takes lots of practice to master.” He tries strumming again and I show him which order to do so, making the sounds far easier on our ears. “See, you’re already better at this than I am. All you need to do is never give up on yourself, because I never will.”

    I still can’t believe all the good happening to me and know I’m going to wake up soon. “Really?”

    “You’re the Lord of Dragonstone now, what’s your opinion on tumbling?” A feeling of excitement builds in my chest and it feels like my heart will burst.

    “It’s allowed!” He laughs when I leap from the bed and roll to my feet gracefully.

    “You make the rules now, I’m just here to make sure the banner men don’t decide to kill you in your sleep.” The playful tone is gone now and he sounds more like Uncle Kevan as he reminds me of no one wanting us here. “You need to be seen befriending Viserys at the wedding, remind your vassals he chose you himself.”

    I hope he liked my gift, no stranger has ever been so nice to me before. I consider my life and admit to myself he’s even been kinder to me than most who do know me.




    Robert Baratheon
    Learning Lyanna lost the child and seeing her face full of raw emotion flickering to fast to identify makes me keep my mouth shut. In the moment Ned’s grief filled voice sinks into my ears I find my rage is replaced with relief.

    She could have died with the babe. As the thought echoes in my mind I’m just happy she’s safe. Viserys doesn’t go to the Wall I guess. He’s not crazy, lets find out if he’s going to be content with his lot or prove he’s one of the great ones.

    Stannis’ raven says the boy wants to be a knight and take a name of his own, Renly even made him a brand new sigil he wears with pride. Hells… he wants to squire for the onion smuggler.

    When Ned finishes his report I raise and eyebrow over the ‘Selmy’ child. “I never saw Barristan touch her at Harrenhal… I seem to remember it was you who danced with her.”

    He flinches as if I struck him. “So did Brandon.”

    “Oh…” Lyanna goes a shade paler and I feel like an ass for bringing up the hole in the cover story. “Well I was pretty in my cups, for all I know they danced after I was no longer standing.” Ned gives me a grateful smile for my attempt and I can’t wait for when we’re really brothers.

    He can’t say for long and once he and his men leave for Riverrun I’m left as alone as I can ever be. Lorch and Blount are on duty today, while my Estermont cousin is to stand guard while I sleep. Only Lyanna is left beside me and for the first time I find my mouth dry.

    She watches in silence as I fumble for something to say and the hurt in her eyes makes me decide. “What was her name?”

    “What?” Lyanna blinks in confusion and I wonder if this is yet another thing I have failed at. Did she name the babe?

    “Your child, what did you call her?” Smiling softly to show I really do care about her grief, I get a considering look before she answers.

    “Sara.” Her voice is flat.

    I think back on what Ned has told me of Winterfell’s legends. “The bastard who wed the Velaryon in secret?”

    No!” She hisses insistently. “They never wed.” Calming herself down she releases her fists and I feel a kinship with her over that sudden rage that can strike anytime.

    “Her father was able to stop her from being taken…” I realize with growing compassion and realize how alone she must have felt.

    Reaching for Lyanna’s hand she hesitates only a moment before her expression softens. “I didn’t think you would care and I admit I was expecting a lot more buxom maids in the halls.”

    “The first day after Ned had gone to save you, Lord Tywin encouraged a feast of celebration.” I fought a war for you – the woman I love – and first time I drank to much I lay with a serving girl in some alehouse. “I won’t keep secrets from you.”

    Taking a deep breath I admit my failure and the ones while I grieved her death in the war. She doesn’t absolve me of those times, but does smile when I explain not a drop of ale or whine has touched my lips since that night.

    Our conversation grows quieter and becomes one of truly getting to know each other. The shock on her face makes me giggle and that sound from my large frame sets her off next.

    “You aren’t who I expected.” She finally admits with a far less guarded look than when we began. “Can’t believe you replaced all the female servants with their mothers.”

    “I had to remove the temptation, so far it’s worked.” She looks over to the men in white cloaks and takes a moment to decide something.

    “If you can be honest and try so hard to change yourself… it’s only fair I give you the same respect.” Hearing about her preferences fills my gut with a stone and I just have one thing to ask her.

    “Did we ever have a chance at love?” She blinks and doesn’t respond immediately, but when she does my heart aches.

    Her expression and voice aren’t cruel in her delivery but my dreams come crashing down around me. “No.” She doesn’t stop with the heartbreaking answer though and now it’s me who needs a few seconds to understand the meaning of her words. “At least not romantically.”

    “Do you love Ned?” She asks and I don’t even need to think about my answer.

    “Of course I do.” When I answer Lyanna smiles and presses me with a second question. “Can you settle for loving me the same way as him, though with occasional attempts for children?”

    “I’ve never been a very pious man.” Lyanna smiles with no reservations at my acceptance and I have a sudden feeling of lurking danger vanish. “So let’s plan a wedding!” My shout has the Kingsguard cheer along with me and I realize I wouldn’t be opposed to her finding a companion. As long as I can watch of course.

     
  12. Threadmarks: Chapter 12: Road Towards The Future
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 12: Road Towards The Future
    Viserys

    Barristan’s appearance at Storm’s End with his wife and child shock me. Once he swears himself to Stannis’ service Renly and the new wards mob the legendary knight.

    Donnel Swann, Galladon Tarth, and Ronnet Connington, are all a year or three older than myself and have had little interest in me or Dale’s companionship. As long as the don’t take it any farther than ignoring us it’s alright, the way they are sucking up to Stannis make it clear the reason they came. He’s going to need a squire himself before we leave.

    The trio of boys younger than myself are Lester Morrigen, Balon Swann and Orell Estermont, all of which are more interested in befriending the younger Baratheon. Barristan handles the adoration well and gives each boy a few words of encouragement as Ashara introduces her son.

    She hesitates on the name for just long enough for my suspicions to grow before finally Ashara introduced us all to Duncan Selmy. He stays quiet when Stannis calls him disciplined and barely reacts when I coo at him softly.

    “He hasn’t been happy since we got on the ship… Duncan will warm up to you before long.” Ashara pokes her son on the nose and he flinches away with an unhappy squint. “Your just a little brooder, aren’t you.”

    Something in her eyes makes it look like Ashara is only now realizing what her life has become and her stiff expression softens as she gazes down at Duncan. I’m just happy my butterflies kept a few more people alive and I don’t even have to feel guilty about the Kingsguard at the tower being some of them.

    “And who might you be Ser?” Barristan eventually works his way through the crowd of excited boys and notices my bodyguard.

    Behind me Sandor leans against the dark grey stone of the castle walls. Like he has done so every day since his introduction, Sandor has a helm on to hide his face.

    “Not a Ser and I never will be.” Barks the teen harshly which makes Barristan try again with a smile.

    “Well what is your name at least lad? I’d like to know who has taken my old job of guarding Viserys.”

    “Sandor Clegane… Ser.” He needs to be reminded to add the title with a stern glare from Stannis.

    “Now why won’t you ever become a knight, do you fear you lack the skill?” Barristan frowns at that idea and shakes his head from side to side firmly. “Because that won’t do at all. I may be serving Prince Stannis now but I will ensure you have the skill to do your own duty.”

    Nodding his head approvingly at the exchange is Stannis, but Renly finds something wrong with what has been said. “How come Viserys has a sword sword? He’s not a Prince anymore, I am.”

    “Ser Barristan can go through candidates for suitability and once I return from the wedding I will approve his choice.” Explains Stannis with a pinched face. “But Princes do not whine for attention, maybe you should ask Viserys for tips on how to act like one before we depart.”

    The look of venom Renly shoots me is new and I find it actually hurts to see genuine hate in his eyes. What are those boys telling him about me? I thought we got along really well before they arrived.

    “He’s not so great,” Renly grumbles back and darts away from us in a huff. I never said I was, I keep screwing everything up… can’t even make a friendship with a seven year old work.

    His friends are quick to follow once Stannis turns his scowl on them and they vanish around the corner of the castle in moments. Soon happy laughter comes from their direction and I feel even worse. Dale’s going to be stuck with this all by himself while I’m gone… I’ll have to tell him he can use my bow when they stress him out too much.

    “I’m terrible with a sword,” I admit to Barristan with a blush on my face and then find a surge of desire to impress him myself. “But I’m the best with a bow out of everyone Ser Cortnay is training!”

    “He keeps a death grip on his sword and refuses to loosen it even a bit.” Sandor has to be smirking behind that cage of steel on his head, but the shadows keep the proof from being visible. “It gives him a steady shot and I admit he’ll be a better shot than me soon… but that just means he’ll be stuck doing the hunting.”

    “You said I’m alright with the rope.” Petulantly I defend my more recent attempts at martial training.

    Sandor just snorts and pats me on the head like a dog. “Alright just means you aren’t dead in the first few seconds… you might last twenty.”

    “He’s right and I’ll need to help Ser Cortnay with his lessons, I don’t believe he was prepared for so many.” Adds Barristan with a laugh of his own. “Lets see if we can have you live a whole minute by years end.”





    Pepper Anne responds easily to my commands and I find myself relaxing in her saddle by the third day of the ride. Stannis is making us take the long way around the Kingswood which is adding another fortnight to the trip. It does keep me out of the Crownlands though and that’s what matters to him.

    I don’t really want to tempt Robert’s goodwill either, everyday here hasn’t been hell like I was dreading. Dare I think it, but I’ve actually enjoyed most of my time at Storm’s End.

    Stannis is strict beyond belief, but he’s fair and actually tells me his expectations… unlike some bosses I can kind of remember having. Renly can call it sucking up when I refrain from ‘having fun’, I just call it staying off the Wall.

    “The Tyrells party will not beat us to the fork,” Calls out Stannis with annoyance ringing in his voice. “We aren’t stopping for lunch, now pick up the pace!” None of his men want to march with or behind the people who besieged them earlier this year and Sandor’s voice is the only one complaining at the command.

    “Great, I hate eating in the saddle. Gives me gas.” That doesn’t stop him from pulling some of the morning’s cheese from a saddle bag. Once he pulls a strand of stringy black hair off the wedge he breaks a piece off and shoves it through a gap in his visor.

    “If your brother is in the Riverlands now…” Sandor waits for me to finish but I nearly stop myself when I imagine the scowl on his face right now. “What’s happening to Clegane Keep?”

    He swallows and makes me stew in silence for almost thirty seconds, sweat even begins to form along my neck before he speaks. “It’s being held by one of Lord Tywin’s cousins for now. I can claim my seat when I earn my knighthood.”

    “But you sai-.” He cuts me off with a bark of bitter laughter.

    “Exactly. I don’t ever want to step foot in that piece of shit again.” I get another interlude of tense silence before he lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “I only have bad memories of that place.”

    Returning his trust with an equally quiet voice I share my own feelings on the matter. “I hate my brother too, that’s why I need to become a knight. So I can have my own name and be my own man.”

    “The building will still be the same.” The grunt back is bitter and lacking in hope.

    “Does the land have bad memories?” He doesn’t answer for the longest time yet and I begin to wonder if I pushed too hard.

    “No. Was really the only place I could get away from Gregor.” Admitting this seems to make him sit up a little straighter.

    I just gave him a pretty nice investment on taking care of this problem and remind him of that. “So tear it down and build a new one. You already know I pay well… may as well save it for something worthwhile.”

    “Sigil looks like crap anyway,” He laughs with less bitterness than before. “May as well choose colors I actually like too.” I get a hesitant pause that only lasts a few seconds but this one reveals Sandor’s vulnerability fully however briefly. “Will you ask Ser Selmy if I can still be his squire when we get back?”

    “He’s known for his boldness… I think it’s go better if you ask him yourself.” Barristan is one of the few beacons of true knighthood that I know of and it seems to have had an effect on Sandor.

     
  13. Threadmarks: Chapter 13: First To Arrive
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 13: First To Arrive
    Viserys

    As we arrive at Riverrun with the sun beginning to vanish, my mother has a horrified expression on her face. “What are you wearing?”

    She stands beside a man who has to be Hoster Tully, with Edmure on his other side. Catelyn is on my mother’s other side and Ned flanks her with a smile being beamed down at me.

    “My new clothes.” The indigo and bronze design has her scowl in frustration when I show off my cloak from Renly.

    “Is Stannis not allowing you to wear our colors?” She is dressed in a black and red winter gown that does a respectable job of concealing Dany’s bump.

    I can hear his teeth grinding at the accusation and clarify before the misunderstanding gets any worse. “I’m going to be the only one with my name in a few days. I decided it’s better to be the first of my kind instead of the last.” My life has a future now and I’m going towards it with all the hope I can muster.

    “When Prince Stannis allows it, I will of course welcome you in my home.” Hoster speaks with a kind voice and I remember he really does care about family. “We shall be family soon and I want you to feel welcome here in Riverrun.”

    “He’s treating you well, you don’t feel like a prisoner here?” She is of course and we all know it, but it doesn’t need to be a hostile stay.

    Mother gives me a warm laugh and loops her arm through Hoster’s. “You got us all away from your father, my stay here has been like a dream I had forgotten could become reality.” She turns to her other side and gives Cat a grateful smile. “Catelyn has been ever so kind in helping me learn the castle.”

    “You flatter me Rhaella and it is you who I should be thanking.” The new Lady Stark readjusts her grip on baby Robb and giggles when he burps. “Having someone I can ask for advice has made the early days less of a nightmare.”

    “You would have done fine,” Mother pats the new mother on the arm softly. “The hardest part of the first child is the uncertainty.”

    Edmure can’t hold himself back any longer and blurts out his own introduction. “So does that make us brothers now? I’m not the baby anymore?”

    “Will you love my brother or sister as if she was really a Tully?” I give him a hard stare that surprises the three and ten year old heir to Riverrun with the intensity in my eyes.

    “What do you mean?” He recovers fast enough for any casual listeners and winks at me. “We’re only rushing the wedding because our parents couldn’t resist each other.” Is that what Robert’s insisting on, or is this Mother’s idea?

    “Guess we are.” Going with the flow is easy enough, it’s only going to make it easier for me to escape the big player’s gaze if the knowledge of Dany’s parentage is kept hidden. “Do you like kites? I brought mine.”

    I get a disappointing no from Edmure as he shakes his red hair from side to side. “We don’t really get enough wind here, but I’ve flown one when I visited the Mallisters.”

    “You mean it flew away from you and landed in the waves.” His older sister teases the blushing teen. “Jason was ever so sad to lose his favorite.”

    “I didn’t mean to let go of it… it was really windy.” He grumbles back in embarrassment and refuses to look at her. “Do you like hunting?”

    I haven’t actually shot at a moving target before and find the idea more exciting than I had expected. “What do you go after?” I’m excited, but not stupid enough to go after something dangerous.

    “Duck and goose mostly, but we might find a beaver or otter if we’re lucky.” His confidence is contagious and I turn to Stannis hopefully.

    “Can I go with him Stannis?” This is the first thing I’ve actually asked him for, let’s see if my good behavior has paid off.

    He considers the request carefully before answering without a grimace. “As long as Lord Tully arranges for a suitable escort and you do not roam far… I believe I can trust you not to flee. ”

    “Running would only hurt everyone I love, I won’t run from my responsibility.” Doesn’t mean I’m going to go looking for more though, I’m happy with a few friends I can trust.

    “Ser Oswell can organize the hunt,” With an agreeable grin Hoster points to the nearly hidden knight leaning against the wall. “I know Raymun is getting grumpy and could use something to tire him out before guests arrive. He’ll never get a wife with his attitude.”

    His armor is no longer gold and white of pristine splendor from when he was a Kingsguard, with the intention clearly not to stand out from a crowd. Instead he wears brick tinted scale armor under a similarly dreary breast plate of muddy red.

    The leathers are a dark muddy brown while the fabric aside from the blue cloak is the same earth tone as his armor. It’s not until he removes his helm I can even recognize the man, his dark grey whiskers are unkempt with a few months growth and I can only feel for him.

    He and Ser Darry’s families had no time to come up with a plan like the Daynes, nor had enough resources to holdout like the Hightowers are trying. Like the rest of the loyalists who did not bend immediately upon word of my abdication, Robert has either given the land away to someone loyal.

    Either someone who distinguished themselves in the rebellion like Gregor Clegane and the Darry lands or just left it to the Lords Paramount to reassign it as they wish. Which makes me wonder what Hoster is going to do as I think of the massive Harrenhal and it’s inability to support itself.





    Our escort of eight men make sure Edmure and I remain between them, but otherwise leave us free to talk with Sandor. Raymun Darry had no interest in hunting with children and went off on his own which I’m more than fine with. He’s the only Darry who seems to hate me and I can’t help but find him childish.

    Edmure does twice as much talking as I do and double that amount of words again for Sandor, but his voice is soothing as we roam the riverbeds for sign of waterfowl. He sounds almost like the British guy who does those nature documentaries as he narrates every bit of the landscape to us.

    “And this is where I scared Cat to death back when I was your age,” He points to a slower section of the river and makes it seem like five years ago is something only the Maesters have records of. “She saw me floating face down and dove right in with her best dress on.”

    His expression is only slightly ashamed as Ser Desmond Grell explains over hoots of laughter from the men who remember. “Edmure was looking for frogs to stick in Lysa’s bed.”

    “Wasn’t funny when she paddled my behind for it, but it was when she lost her boot in the mud.” Edmure grumbles under his breath.

    Some splashing just around the bend has the conversation put on hold as Edmure and I race to have a shaft drawn. I beat him by the barest fraction of a second and creep up the bank carefully, taking great care to remain as silent as possible.

    The geese below are larger than the Canadian Geese I remember, maybe even by a whole ten pounds. While I’m still taking aim on the top of the bank, Edmure catches up to me and looses his own arrow into the flock.

    It sinks into a bird’s wing and sends it flapping up and down the river in a panic. The rest leave the injured goose to it’s fate and make for the sky in a mad dash. Biting my lip in concentration I shoot my own arrow just in front of my own target.

    They need a running start to take off and don’t move the fastest when doing so. My arrow pierces into the feathered body making the goose tumble from the air. It splashes back into the river and remains still on the water’s surface to my shock.

    “I got one…” Sandor gives me an impressed smile as I let the glee fill me in a sudden rush. Edmure only got his bird’s wing, but I killed mine clean. I’m good at something!​
     
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  14. Threadmarks: Chapter 14: How Things Change
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 14: How Things Change
    Tyrion Lannister

    It’s incredibly strange for both Cersei and I, when Lords Tully, Tyrell, Stark, and Arryn all treat me not quite as an equal… but with far more interest than she is given. She just gets a courtesy greeting but Lord Arryn is quite eager to speak with me later on the usage of my fleet. I’d better ask Father to join me, Gerion normally makes these decisions.

    The look I share with my sister is one of shocked realization and I find myself eagerly looking forward to this wedding. The castle is far happier than either of my homes and I’m not being told to stay out of sight. In fact I’m supposed to mingle and make friends my own age, which is probably what I should be doing now.

    “Prince Stannis.” stiff backed and wide eyed as my sister plies her charms on him, the King’s brother takes my words as a welcome escape. “I was hoping for the chance to thank your ward for my good fortune, but I haven’t seen him.” With a brother like Robert, I doubt anyone has every really looked at you like this before… I know how that feels.

    “Viserys is off with Edmure and the Tyrell boys, Lord Tyrion.” The constipated look reminds me of the recent siege and I can only sigh at being too late. “He should be in the Godswood, it’s one of the only places not overrun with guests currently.” Not like he’s going to have time for me with two heirs to entertain him, but I need to go see him anyway.

    “And which way would that be?” I try not to let everyone’s age overwhelm me and remember that Lord Stark is only twenty and one himself. He’s only a decade my senior and he commands respect, I just need to do what Jaime would and everything will be fine.

    “Head towards the Northeast corner and look for the red leaves.” Lord Tully gives me a look Gerion has when he knows I’m pretending to be brave and winks. “Listen for the noise and you can’t miss them.’

    “Thank you for the invitation to dine, Lord Tully. But lordly courtesy insists I thank Viserys before taking my meal with you all.” I actually get a nod of approval from Father when I turn down the offer which makes it hard not to skip away from everyone. “Perhaps then my Father can help make sure I understand all the terms of your offer Lord Hand.”

    Bowing his head in farewell, Lord Arryn doesn’t sound upset by my inclusion of Father. “It is no great urgency and we have days enough to find the time. But the Master of Coin is of course invited to discuss the fleet’s usage.”

    Following my directions with ease thanks to a clear and open courtyard makes me roll my eyes at how many twists and turns Dragonstone has. It looks great and would be challenging to invade, but it’s not really easy getting around for day to day life.

    What sounds like a dying bird snaps me from my thoughts suddenly and the following laughter doesn’t ease my suddenly tense nerves. They aren’t laughing at me, they don’t even know I’m here yet. I try to remind myself I have nothing to fear and yet my pace slows to a snail’s as I enter the Godswood.

    “Quiet.” A familiar voice barks sternly and the laughter ends. “Someones in the grove.”

    “I told you not to ruin the surprise Mother!” A fairly high boys voice calls out in annoyance. “You aren’t supposed to be back he-” Viserys trails off mid stomp when he sees who I am. “Oh, hi.”

    He tilts his head to one side and examines me. His scowl quickly shifts into a welcoming smile and his companions emerge from behind him. I’m mostly shocked by his hair though which is not the long flowing locks I was expecting. Instead Viserys has little more than a couple inches of silver hair and it really makes his lilac eyes pop with curiosity.

    “Lord Tyrion.” Sandor Clegane greets me next and by name too, his tone even has less of an edge than I remember. “You look well.”

    “And you Clegane, looks like we’re both coming up in the world.” Be like Jaime, everyone loves him. I remind myself firmly and try to give off a charming smile. It doesn’t even seem to be noticed by anyone though and I deflate a little.

    “Nice to meet you Lord Tyrion, I hope our practicing was not to unpleasant.” The younger of the two blonds is the next one to speak with his charm coming out like second nature. I can try and be like Jaime all I want, the rest of you are living it.

    As the familiar bitterness begins seeping into my thoughts, Viserys cuts right through them with an intent look on his face. “Rhaenys said she sent you a harp in the letter Elia penned for her, have you learned to play any songs yet?”

    “A few… why?” His eagerness is slightly unsettling and I take a half step backwards unconsciously.

    “Perfect!” Clapping his hands in glee before he grabs my hand almost to tightly for comfort. “If you play with us that means Garlan can sing.” It’s only now that I see the harp in the younger Tyrell’s hand.

    Of course he can probably play as amazing as he can fight. A horrible realization settles in the pit of my stomach and will not go away. I can’t ever let Jaime touch a harp.

    “He’s even worse than I am, so I’m so glad you’re here.” Viserys drags me to a clearing beside a small pond and Garlan eagerly hands me his harp. “I’m the one who’s responsible for this wedding even happening. I need to be able to play something for her and Hoster to dance to.”

    “And I’m three times better than you with a weapon, so don’t get so cocky.” Garlan growls back at Viserys playfully and I actually feel included when Willas winks at me.

    “I think we can all agree Edmure is the one who needs to spend more time in the yard and less time gawking at all these maidens here for the wedding.” The older Tyrell comments with a dashing smirk on his face. “They shall all be gone soon, but you have to live… or die with your own skills.”

    Edmure Tully doesn’t like everyone ganging up on him and crosses his arms defiantly. Well how come you don’t need to train while you’re here?”

    “I do every morning, you just sleep in far to long.” The response has the Tully gaping like his namesake.

    Knowing far to well how it feels to be the odd man out, I speak up in Edmure’s defense. “Maybe Edmure has just discovered the delights of women. the rest of you will understand one day… or maybe not. If you spend your whole life swinging your sword at men, maybe that’s just your preference.”

    Edmure and surprisingly Viserys are the ones who burst out laughing. Even Sandor chuckles at Willas’ embarrassed blush and I wonder if this is what it’s like to be included.

    With it now Willas’ turn to sputter for words, his brother is the one to defend him by flinging a fistful of mud on my face. I prepare for my good day to be ruined but I don’t get a barrage from the others following the first.

    Viserys cackles madly and bends in half at the waist, flinging mud wildly at his sworn sword between his legs. This just starts a free for all and any intent to play music is put on hold. When I flip out of the way of Edmure’s throw he cheers out in amazement and I can only grin beneath the muck dripping from my face.




    Viserys
    After the ‘Battle of the Godswood’ is concluded, we wash off as best we can in the now muddy pond. It’s enough to stop us from dripping all over the castle as we try to sneak a change of clothes, but not enough for us to escape notice.

    “I had heard rumors of the ‘Dirty Dragon’ but this is ridiculous.” Olenna Tyrell is standing with my mother and the pair block our way into the section of the castle reserved for family and honored guests. “But at least you clean up well. Shame about the hair though.”

    My mother shares a laugh with the older woman while Ser Darry remains silent behind them, Left and Right flanking him on either side. “I know and he had such beautiful hair, it’ll take years to grow it back out.”

    “That’s why I cut it all off, Renly’s friends already say I sound and look like a girl… can’t do anything about my voice though.” Going to be a few years until my voice deepens and I’ll always look feminine against all that Durrandon blood back in Storm’s End.

    Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure I recognize from King’s Landing and feel my blood chill. Why is Varys here? I’m not even sure the bald man I only briefly saw was him, by the time I had whirled around he had a head full of shaggy red hair.

     
  15. Threadmarks: Chapter 15: Dragons Dance, Fish Fly, And People Die
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 15: Dragons Dance, Fish Fly, And People Die
    Viserys

    Tyrion strums his last chord while I have my own melody fade to silence and we bow with Garlan to the sound of polite applause. Mother is the only one who actually seems impressed with our single performance of ‘Flowers of Spring’, but at least those at the head table can feign interest well enough.

    Most however just seem eager for the real musicians to begin and so the three of us hurry off of the dance floor. Almost at once a far more pleasing tune fills the air and I’m forced to hold in a giggle at the sight of Cersei dragging a blushing Stannis from his seat.

    He’s representing the Baratheons tonight and is doing a respectable job of socializing, though definitely not comfortably based on his posture. Even Ned looks to be enjoying his own dance with Catelyn as they exchange pleasant words with Mother and her new husband.

    I can see Edmure off to the side with Willas, both in the middle of wooing the half a dozen maidens eager for a chance at the heirs. Sandor hasn’t budged from his own place at our table, his eyes however haven’t even seem to registered our arrival.

    Like a love sick puppy he watches a Blanetree girl be twirled by her older brother gracefully and I can actually see his self pity grow in his eyes by the second. This won’t do, weddings are supposed to be fun for everyone.

    “You’re going to need a partner so you can protect me in that crowd, hope you know how to dance.” He shakes his head fiercely and starts to pale. The Kingsguard are here, you don’t need me to join you.”

    “I paid you to be my friend didn’t I?” He nods uncomfortably at the expressions of distaste Tyrion and Garlan both share. “Well I wing-man for my friends.” All three of them frown in confusion as I stride with confidence towards the father and daughter.

    “What’s a damn Wing-man?” Sandor’s confused remark makes me grin.

    When Tyrion tries to come up with an answer for him I nearly laugh aloud. “Must be a dragon thing… maybe it means our future wives are the dragons and he wants to make sure your ‘dragon’ doesn’t try and kill you?”

    “I think it just means he wants our wives to get along as well as the riders do.” Garlan is far more confident in his answer and I have to take a second to keep the laughter buried. “He might say some strange things, but Grandmother says it’s because he was practically raised by the Kingsguard. Viserys doesn’t really know how to be a child and this is his chance to learn.”

    Once I do manage to get over my giggling, I quickly intercept the Blanetrees before they can look for new partners. “Greetings to you Lord Blanetree and again to you lovely daughter.” I bow only enough to make them notice the effort.

    “You as well young Viserys.” He puts a hand on her back and lightly presses her forward. “This is my eldest child Zhoe and we are both grateful for the invitation.” Hoster was the one who decided on everything, all I had to do was give Mother to him during the ceremony.

    “I have an extremely important favor to ask of you Lady Zhoe,” Using all the childlike charm I have at my dispossal, I take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. “I wish to have the second dance with my Mother, but I require my sword sword to join me. Dancing Dragons have been known to be dangerous and I would not dare risk such a happy occasion.”

    She blushes pink as I point towards Sandor’s brooding form still seated with our friends. Sandor Clegane is the brother of the new Lord Clegane.” I let the knowledge of him being the brother of the rebellion’s most well known hero sink in. “He requires a dance partner of his own and it is you I have seen his gaze following for most of the night.”

    Her father is quick to give his blessing and I lead the blushing Zhoe back to our friends. She’s barely five feet tall though not of a slender build. Her bones are thick and her lightly tanned cheeks are very prominent. A head of sandy blonde hair hangs halfway down her back in three interlocked braids and her blue eyes shimmer with excitement.

    “Sandor has an old injury on his face that he took saving a child from a fire.” I warn her quietly and neglect to inform her the child was him. “He doesn’t like speaking of it but please don’t let it frighten you. It’s his mark of honor for facing such a monster and living.”

    Zhoe agrees softly and allows me to introduce her to a terrified Sandor. “This is Sandor Clegane, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and Garlan Tyrell, they’re my best friends.”

    Well aside from them and the Seaworths I don’t have anyone else, so this declaration was more to confirm it for myself out loud. It really has been nice not being looked at like vermin by most of the castle staff. I can’t blame the people at Storm’s End, I am a hostage after all… but this instant respect is addicting.

    Tyrion’s shock at the claim shifts into relieved joy, while beside him Garlan puffs out his chest in pride at the acknowledgment. Sandor however looks frozen in fright by Zhoe’s friendly smile and barely stutters out his own awkward hello.

    “I’m going to go dance with my mother now,” Smirking at Tyrion and Garlan I point towards the rapidly diminishing pool of maidens for them to approach. “You two had better hurry or it’ll only be Freys left.”

    With that unpleasant idea left to stew, I march right towards my Mother and Hoster. She genuinely seems to be enjoying herself and at least seems to consider Hoster a friend. I have no reason to dislike but I can’t help but feel like he’s taken something from me. Which is ridiculous, I’m the one who was handing out my family members like mints.





    As midnight approaches nearly half of the guests have retired and it’s only those making secretive deals and trying to find a bed partner are still present. And of course those to young for the real fun like my friends and I are trying to avoid being sent to bed.

    “Sandor Clegane sitting under a Blanetree,” I try to tease the teen but he just flings a biscuit at me in response. “First comes love and then comes marriage.” The two glasses of wine I had managed to sneak over the night make my face warm and my mind lighter than it has been in months.

    “Oh shut yer mouth, I was just keeping you safe.” His ears go bright red as soon as Edmure and Willas hoot and holler on either side of him.

    Tyrion snorts from behind his own glass of wine and seems to finally just be having fun. “So why did I see you talking to Lord Blanetree as they left?”

    “I might need her help protecting Viserys for Prince Stannis’ wedding.” Now it’s the gruff teens turn to smirk.

    “Don’t remind me.” Groans Tyrion as he begins banging his head on the table in frustration. “She’ll be a Princess and be able to do what ever she wants again.”

    Defending my stubborn cousin firmly, I just don’t see things playing out like they did with Robert. “Nah. Stannis won’t let Cersei push him around, she’ll at least need to be subtle if she wants to harass you now.”

    “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Counters the only one here smaller than me. “He was getting led around by her wiles all night long.”

    “I don’t know… she seemed pretty smitten when she was sent to bed by your Father.” Edmure proves why he’s the one I’m calling brother now and agrees with me.

    “Who is that!” I catch sight of the rotund redhead from a few days ago and hiss at Edmure, having to correct him when he stares at a vomiting man in Fisher colors. “No, the one going up onto the battlements.”

    He doesn’t know and this fills me with anxiety. “It’s Lord Varys. He was my father’s Master of Whispers.”

    “What’s he doing here?” Edmure gets more upset than I’ve ever seen him and he grabs a knife from the table. “Doesn’t matter, we’re going to find out.” Well their goes my tell an adult plan. “Come on!”

    With determination the Tully heir leads us after the man, with Sandor hissing at us to quiet down. He’s the only one of us with a real weapon, with myself having grabbed a good sized rock and the rest brandishing knives from the table.

    Except for Lord Tyrion it would seem. I notice he has Talon clenched in his shaking hand and can only hope he’s been shown how to use it.

    Creeping along the walls of Riverrun is making my blood rush and all I can hear is my heart boom in my ears. Soon hushed whispers from ahead have me stop a little too suddenly, making Garlan stop on a creaky board.

    Shit! Is all I have time to think as Edmure gives up on stealth and confidently walks towards the three figures. Two are in armor though I can’t see from which House with so little light and the third is a once again bald Varys.

    “It was you!” I lose my own fear and know things have gotten deadly serious. You don’t catch the Spider in the act and just walk away, someone is going to die.

    “It’s so good to see you again Prince Viserys, I was hoping to find time to speak with you.” He oozes deceit with every word and even in my intoxicated state I can hear it.

    “Why are you here?”

    Growling at him only makes his smile change into a sad frown and he keeps going with even more lies. “New babes and the mother are ever so fragile, I only wish to ensure those living here face no… unpleasantness with so many strangers present in Riverrun.”

    “If you go near a single member of my family,” No more games, time to show him the same teeth only Aerys, Jaime, and Rhaenys have seen before from me. “What I do to you will actually earn me the black.”

    “Something like kinslaying you mean?” Varys smirks as I smack myself for being stupid. Of course Vary knows what I did… but why hasn’t he told the world yet?

    “So you really do have Valyrian blood, the rumors are true?” Trying to turn it back on him is harder than I had expected and I can only curse myself for drinking. Never again, I get even dumber when I drink.

    The sudden shift in mood is noticed by everyone and Sandor draws his sword in response to the two knights pulling weapons. Willas and Garlan take the one on the left as a team and I have no time left to worry about the Tyrells.

    Sandor clashes with the knight wielding a morning star, saving my head from becoming paste but Varys is quick to dart for me. He grabs my throat in one hand and readies his other to stab downwards with his own dagger.

    Tyrion saves me by nearly slicing said wrist in half in the middle of his jump and takes the blade in he shoulder for me with a pained shriek. Voices from bellow become aware something is wrong too late and Edmure slams into Varys.

    “Stay away from my family!” Edmure’s roar of defiance is a repeat of my own earlier warning though his has far more of an effect.

    Varys and Edmure Tully both go over the battlements to my horror and I can only watch them land helplessly. The spy master’s head slams against the ground the ground with a skull shattering crunch, but the groaning Edmure is who I cry upon seeing.

    One arm is bent backwards at the elbow beneath him and one leg just looks… wrong. The stump he crashed on top of has his back bent at a horrible angle and I ignore the fight to leap off into the water only a dozen feet from Edmure.

    The splash brings anyone still looking for the commotion running towards us and I pull myself from the water only to see Catelyn holding her brother’s hand. I don’t arrive in time to hear most of his words, but I do hear him gasp his final ones to a sobbing Cat.

    “Family.” He smiles at her with bloodstained lips. “Duty.” Now I get the smile and I just feel unworthy. “Honor.” Spitting some red froth in Varys’ direction makes her release a single grim laugh.

    “Promise me Ned.” When Edmure looks to a nodding Ned, I vow this is a promise two will keep. “Make sure you name a kid after me.”



     
    Last edited: Oct 25, 2021
  16. Threadmarks: Chapter 16: Six Years Later, 290 AC
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 16: Six Years Later, 290 AC
    Viserys

    Ducking under Dale’s swing with the blunt blade, I swing my chain with a padded weight around his ankle. He groans but isn’t hurt beyond some bruising and I yank as hard as I can. He flails his arms as he falls backwards into the mud, splattering me in nearly as much as my closest friend now wears.

    “About damn time, I was starting to think I’d never be able to go home.” Sandor lets out a bark of laughter. “Only took you what… seven years to beat him?”

    “Six and a half.” He dodges the ball of mud I throw with well practiced ease and I can only grumble back petulantly. “Still the best shot in the castle.”

    He shrugs and doesn’t contest my skill with a bow. “I wouldn’t like my chances fighting you at more than a hundred yards, but any closer and you better make those three shots count.”

    I can get that many decently aimed ones off in the time it takes him to run that far, but he knows to keep his face lowered when he goes after an archer. All our time together wasn’t just good for me, Sandor has friends… hell I’m pretty sure once he claims his keep Zhoe’s father will let them marry.

    “Clear the yard and go clean yourself up.” Renly and his friends approach for the practice they just missed. “Cersei has something she wants to talk to you about and we all know she doesn’t like it when you live up to your reputation. So please don’t put her in an even worse mood than she normally is.”

    Great, I love talking to Cersei… especially when Stannis is off in King’s Landing serving as Master of Laws. “Thanks.” Renly nods stiffly and nearly collides with Ronnet Connington as he tries to leave the yard with Sandor. “Watch where you’re going Connington.”

    Ronnet was one of Renly’s friends at first, but that quickly changed. But then again so was I, not like Renly has ever proven he cares about family… except maybe getting Robert’s approval. When the Connington’s lost their Lordship Renly nearly forgot the boy even existed, thankfully Dale seemed just as in need of a friend while I was at Mother’s wedding.

    He and Sandor have something to prove to the world and I’m just happy they can push against each other. I just want to fade into obscurity once I earn my spurs. That should at least make Renly satisfied, even if Mother thinks it a waste of my talents.

    “See you at supper,” I mumble to the three as we enter the castle, with myself heading for the families baths. “I had better not keep the Lady of Storm’s End waiting, you lot go have some fun.” The real issue isn’t her disliking me, it’s this strange fondness to for me in the last year or two that makes my skin crawl.

    When she was pregnant with Joffrey she was meaner and more short tempered. With Shireen though, Cersei was very compassionate and forgiving for the entire nine months. The third one she’s halfway through is the worst however by far.

    One second she’s happy and sweet, the next her mood switches to one of pure unbridled anxiety. It’s unsettling how she seems to cling for me when those moods hit her and I can only hope this is an official meeting with Ser Barristan present.

    Since Ser Cortnay Penrose’s appointment to the Kingsguard, Barristan has taken over as the Master of Arms here at Storm’s End. With Davos in the capital or sailing back and forth for half the year with Stannis, Cersei is effectively in charge of all but the guards.

    Ashara Selmy and Marya Seaworth have been her only ladies in waiting aside from her cousin brought from the Rock and it took Cersei a few years to assert her control over the rowdy men here. But I have to admit once she did, it was secure as any knot Davos would tie.

    After my bath of water that would scald anyone else living here, I dress in fresh clothing in my own colors. The scars from where I had scratched at my chicken pox are still red and angry against my always pale skin, making me wish I could remember that time more clearly. Hope I didn’t admit anything better kept secret… like you know, killing my father.

    Cersei says she took care of me, but that must have been the maid bathing me when I was delirious… Cersei wouldn’t do something nice like that. I nearly died with a very severe case for a four and ten year old, though Joffrey and Shireen don’t even have a mark. Same as my last life, was so old I couldn’t even enjoy the two weeks off school.

    Finally I find Cersei waiting in her garden, both her children present under the vigilant gaze of Ashara as her own children’s voices reassure me this will be only a normal visit. I can’t see Duncan and I think he should be with Cressen for a while longer, but her and Barristan’s three are here.

    No way Duncan is actually a Selmy, he looks just like a Stark. But if they want to cover up Brandon or Ned ‘shaming’ her this way… who am I to ruin everything. He came here to protect me even after I dismissed him, kind of hard to care which kid he wants to adopt.

    The blonde head of Joffrey orders about Vorian just like his mother would, while Ulrick and his sister are more content to giggle in the sun nearby. When I glance at the infant Shireen in Cersei’s arms, the head of thick black hair and blue eyes make me have hope for the parentage of the third child.

    “You like the new clothes I had made for you?” Cersei smiles at me with a stare that seems just a tad to ‘friendly’ for someone beside her husband. “The dye is from Myr and the cotton was the highest quality. It’s such a shame you do so much to hide your good looks.”

    What the hell is going on with her lately, is she going to try and seduce me or something? I owe Stannis to much to ever do that to him and that’s not counting the issue of what happens if I ever get caught. Sorry Cersei, but this world has more than enough options for me to resort to something that dumb.

    “Who are you trying to marry him off to?” Ashara finds this as strange I do and says something about it. “Are you and Jaime trying to pair him with a cousin of yours back in the Westerlands? Is that why you want him to accompany you to the Rock?”

    “I’m glad at least one of my ladies has a brain.” Neither confirming it nor denying the accusation makes the hair on my neck stand upright. Someone’s trying to get me involved in something, I know it!

    The realization of a plot underfoot raises my paranoia to an unhealthy degree and I just sigh. “Can you at least see if you have any Hills near my age?” If she’s going to use me I can’t help it, but maybe acceptance can at least make it a less prestigious match.

    “Oh Viserys, you shouldn’t aim so low.” Cersei hisses with dissatisfaction at my answer. “Only a Lord Paramounts’ daughter will do for you… or at least a niece or granddaughter of one.”

    Is that what she wants, me and Shireen? The idea makes a disturbing amount of sense to me and I can barely conceal the shudders. She’s like thirteen years younger than me, I’m stealing Davos’ boat if that’s really your plan. Or I can just go marry some commoner or maybe a bastard and hope I can get her with child before Stannis finds me. He’ll make me do my duty and honor the marriage.

    “See, that’s a much better idea isn’t it?” Smirks Cersei at the sight of my shifting expressions, thinking I’m on board with her plan when my face stops at a relieved grin.

    “Just tell him about the letter please, he’ll be eager to get on the road I bet.” Ashara rolls her eyes at us and turns back to her children.

    “I was getting to that,” Scowling at the violet eyed woman she calls a friend, Cersei does eventually share the information. “Viserys, I have some bad news for you.” She gives me a moment to ready myself. “Since Renly has no seat of his own… King Robert has decreed Summerhall is to be given to him. It will be rebuilt as ‘befitting’ a Baratheon Prince.”

    I barely feel a twinge over the loss, more disappointed I won’t have a chance to search for Valyrian steel or the Summerhall Seven than anything. “Good for him. It’ll be nice to have some peace and quiet around here once he and his friends are gone.” I will miss Ronnet though.

    “Stannis wanted to make sure you had a chance to visit first and search the rubble for heirlooms or trinkets that may remain.” My heart starts to pound in my chest when I hear that. “He convinced the King to delay the announcement until Renly’s nameday.” That’s in six weeks! “You and your friends can leave in the morning, but you will take four of Barristan’s men with you.”
     
  17. Threadmarks: Chapter 17: Growing Up
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 17: Growing Up
    Viserys

    Dale and Ronnet are easy to find with the rest of the Seaworths, taking supper as a family and overlooking the fact of Ronnet not actually being one of them. He’s as much a hostage as I am, though it didn’t sink in for the Renly and his friends until word of the Conningtons no longer having a lordship was sent from King’s Landing.

    Once Ronnet was left without even the shield my name still provides, only one family was willing to share a table with him. Dale is a kinder person than I am and forgave him once an awkward apology was given. If it was up to me, I would have made Ronnet work for it.

    Good thing it wasn’t… Ronnet has been a far better friend than I ever would have expected based on his families fall. Dale forcing my hand on an early acceptance of the apology was the right choice and I’m just glad he keeps my more vindictive side on a leash.

    Convincing them to come check out the ruins is not such a simple task, with Ronnet giving me a wide eyed look of concern. “Isn’t that place cursed? A hundred looters vanished with only a scream.”

    “It wasn’t even a dozen people and they only exposed the last of the wildfire caches to the heat.” Rolling my eyes at the six and ten year old’s pale face, I explain what the official investigation revealed.

    “Stannis checked with the Pyromancers before saying I could go. The moisture in the Stormlands will have ruined any wildfire that didn’t go off years ago. It’s really only going to be useful as a fire starter now according to him.

    Robert wasn’t giving his brother land that might kill him and had his new Master of Whispers investigate first. Turns out the stuff in the sewers would have only lasted a year or two before degrading. Less than a dozen containers had been sealed airtight and they would have needed to be concentrated in one spot to collapse a street.

    “Can I come?”Matthos nearly begs me for permission and I know better than to look at the eight year old’s sad eyes. Years of caving in to you has finally paid off. Or so I thought, because when I don’t concede like expected Allard let’s out a pained ‘ouch’, making me glance over to see him smirking beside his younger brother.

    “Fine!” Throwing my arms up in a huff I admit defeat, which makes six year old Maric giggle at me with his mother. “Just make sure you’re ready to ride by the time I get our escort ready.” I’m not giving Renly a chance to worm his way onto the trip by waiting for morning.

    “Sandor is training with Duncan until Renly is tired of getting embarresed by Ser Barristan.” Dale explains between bites and we share a smirk.

    I used to worry about never rising above mediocrity with my martial skills. But it turns out trying to make Stannis happy, lead to working myself to exhaustion nearly every day. Having Edmure die saving me was just more motivation to stop screwing around.

    Having fun with my friends is fine, but something in me shifts the second a situation shifts to live combat. I shove my smiles and compassion into some hidden corner of my mind so I can stomach the viciousness that floods my body.

    Renly though has let his skills stagnate over the years and not even Barristan seems to be able to motivate my cousin. I guess having Ser William Foxglove as his sworn sword is enough for him to feel secure, but he doesn’t seem to realize the protections will end in only a few years.

    I thank them and steal a slice of ham from Maric’s plate. “Your payment for coming.” He scowls at the words but doesn’t argue once it’s confirmed he’s coming.

    Sandor and Duncan aren’t behind the smithy though I do get Sers Malegorn and Colen to come on the several day trip. It ends up being Ser Humfrey Clifton – one of the knights Cersei brought with her – who shows me where the pair train in secret.

    Seeing Duncan Selmy dance away from Sandors admittedly slowed swings, I can only resent his raw talent with a sword. I’m good with the morning star claimed from William Wode at my mother’s wedding, but embarrassing to realize even a child can beat me with a blade.

    He trains as hard as I do so I don’t begrude him his skill, I only wish I had been that good when I was his age. Edmure might be alive and Willa’s ankle wouldn’t have been shattered. Same injury as normal, though it’s me and not Oberyn who has all of Mace’s scorn.

    Can’t visit Tyrion in the Crownlands and Mace won’t let me visit Garlan in Oldtown. Haven’t gotten a letter from Rhaenys in five years and never one from Aegon… which means going to Dorne isn’t really a good idea either.

    Hoster’s offer of being always welcome was rescinded quietly and I’ve only seen Mother and Dany once a year since. With Robert giving away the last of my families land, I really do only have a name left to shed before I’m finally free.

    I can say goodbye to Mother, Dany, and the twins, and go wherever I want. If enough of Summerhall’s wood is salvageable I can have construction begin with any funds I find in the ruins. If it’s not, hopefully at least one egg is still in one piece. Even if it’s cold to the touch, I can still trade it for a ship.

    “Viserys!” A gasp of realization comes from Duncan and Sandor kicks the distracted boy onto his back.

    Duncan gasps for breath on the secluded beach the two are using and glares at Sandor. “You told him!”

    “No I didn’t,” Growls Sandor in firm denial of the accusation. “You said it was so you could be his squire. Nothing dangerous I needed to warn him about here.”

    Ser Sandor Houndsworth is a knight now and in his own words, ‘A hound is worth a hundred mountains’. The boy with long coarse black hair tied back in a loose ponytail doesn’t seem to agree though.

    “At least a mountain is silent, you bark everything back to ‘Serys.”

    “You want to be my squire?” I mumble in confusion to the boy who everyday looks less and less like a Selmy. Would finally give me an answer to my burning curiosity that I have somehow kept myself from just directly asking Barristan.

    If he’s not a Stark boy I’ll eat a bowl of brown, only thing I need is another look at Ned for comparison. Maybe line Duncan up beside his kids and find out if he’s Brandon’s bastard or really the Quiet Wolf’s son.

    “Why not Sandor’s?” With his size and your ‘father’s’ training, Sandor is by far the second best warrior in the castle.

    Duncan’s ears go red as he ducks his head to mutter his answer. “Father said it’s not right, that would be nepotism.” He’s unfamiliar with the fancy word and I can tell from Sandor’s blank face that he is also. “I have to impress a knight on my own, or I’ll be living here forever when you all go off on adventures.”

    “But I’m not a knight yet.” I’m not against the idea, only overwhelmed by his desperate voice.

    “You will be soon.” He has tears shimmering in his eyes when he finally looks up at me. “I heard Mother and Father talking and I know the truth…”

    So tell me! I manage not to scream the thought and wait patiently for the boy I still think of as Jon Snow to speak again.

    “I’m not a Selmy and they’ll never tell me who my Father really is.” Clenching his shaking fists in barely contained frustration.

    “I don’t know if I’m a Sand or a Storm, maybe I’m a Waters or the rumors are true and I’m really a Snow! The last part comes out as a whispered plea and I find myself with no reason to argue. “My heritage is being stolen from me and I need to know why.”

    “Alright.” He looks shocked at my acceptance and I can tell he has some kind of speech he’s working on. “Once I earn my spurs we’ll go find out who you really are. It’ll be a grand old adventure for the songs, the modern day Dunc and Egg.” Not like the Summer Islands are going anywhere, I can put that voyage off a few more years.

    Remembering why I’m here, I decide this can be a test drive. “Let’s go ask Ser Barristan and see if you can come with us to Summerhall. Renly should have gotten sweaty enough to go take a bath by now.”

    “He’ll probably want to come.” Duncan whines like any kid would at the idea of his father tagging along.

    “If he does, I’ll just tell him this is squire tryouts.” He smiles at my quick answer and gathers his belongings from the sand.​
     
  18. Threadmarks: Chapter 18: That Time Already?
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 18: That Time Already?
    Rhaenys Martell

    Riding in Uncle Doran’s litter down to the docks is tense, with Mother fussing over Aegon’s always difficult hair. Almost like a cow licks his forehead each morning, my brother’s bang’s stick up in the oddest directions.

    “I wanted to say goodbye to Uncle Oberyn,” He whines to the rolling of Mother’s eyes.

    “He’s the one who can’t seem to get over his hate for your Uncle Viserys,” Mother hisses in disappointed frustration at her brother’s rage.

    “This will at least give you a chance to see him before your stay with Lord Arryn.” Doran gives me a softer smile and adds my own destination. “And yours with Lord Jaime. I’ve sent your letter and Elia watched the Maester send the raven herself, Oberyn’s not around to stop him right now.”

    As soon as my Uncle realized his words had no affect on my memories of Viserys keeping me safe, he settled for making sure no word was passed between us. When his offers of bringing us to Essos until we could reclaim our throne also failed to sway his siblings’ minds, Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria Sand left with their youngest children for a destination unknown.

    The idea of going to the Westerlands had filled me with dread until Uncle Doran explained how rarely Lord Tywin returns home. Nearly all of his efforts are spent working with the Hand in King’s Landing, the two have been worked nearly to exhaustion running the Realm in place of two irresponsible sovereigns.

    “I can’t wait to meet him!” My brother squirms out of Mother’s grip and nearly squeals with excitement. “He yelled at the Usurper and three lords… and then he and his friends saved Grandmother all by themselves.”

    No matter how many times Oberyn tried to twist my brother’s idea of Viserys to fit the growing reputation of the ‘Dirty Dragon’, Mother just reminds Aegon of one very important truth. Viserys is the only reason we’re alive and only because he insisted on giving his place on the ship to Mother and Aegon.

    Oberyn is just jealous Aegon will never have the same hero worship for him as he does for his other uncle. My cousin Arianne smirks deviously at me and I know a cutting comment is about to be delivered.

    “Ah yes, the Tyrells and your betrothed… the Littlest Lannister.”

    He proved he wasn’t some monster like the rumors once said. Tyrion’s got all the bravery of a full grown man and word from Grandmother’s wedding says he even learned the harp for me. It was just a scared little girls letter, but he took the words to heart like an oath.

    The gifts each nameday come not just for me, but Mother and Aegon receive ones along with Doran and his children each year. If Oberyn and his children received any I do not know, any would have been rejected before even being looked at.

    The letter for me with that comes with each gift shows he’s no lout like Arianne fears her father will find for her. The words are sweet and he even promised the castle looks nearly identical to when he arrived. Only tapestries and paintings have been hung so it’s not so spooky, but he says I can replace half of them with ones I prefer.

    I wish for us to decorate our home together dear Rhaenys, for until you are here… Dragonstone is only the place I live.’ That is the only letter packed with my things and even though nearly all the words are now illegible… I can remember every single one perfectly.

    “Hush Arianne, you go too far.” Doran gives her a stern frown. “Lord Tyrion took a blade for his friend. He paid for the insult his father gave our family.”

    “Sorry Rhae. I’m just being mean because it’s easier than being sad you have to leave.” Pulling me into a tight hug, Arianne whispers her last few words. “Now Father will only have me and the boys to think about and I’ve seen some of the offers for my hand.”

    “So come with me, Jaime said I could bring one of my cousins.” I know he meant one of the Sands, but this will only be better in his father’s eyes when he learns of it. Besides, none of them wanted to come. “Quentyn is already going with Aegon.”

    She looks conflicted as she considers the offer. “But I didn’t have time to pack. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

    Her father ends up making it an easy choice when he offers his own opinion. “You are a Martell and this is Dorne. If you wish to go, the ship will wait while your belongings are gathered.” His eyes gleam with some kind of plan in the works, but I ignore it in favor of my excitement for now.

    “You had best remember things in the North a different, you won’t be able to have such freedom with your body… not if you wish to be seen with respect by the Westerlands.” Mother reminds Arianne gently.

    “I know but Ser Hightower cannot follow Rhaenys everywhere.” Counters my cousin. “Nor can we be sure Lynesse will be a proper role model. Rhae will need someone to look up to if Lady Lannister turns out useless.”

    “Six years will give you time to evaluate the offers I get for you with your own eyes.” Uncle Doran gives his only daughter a firm stare. “But if you don’t approve one of the choices I send you by the time Rhaenys weds… your choice will be gone.”

    “But that’s not fair!”

    He just shrugs and nods towards me with a knowing smirk. “It wasn’t fair what happened to your cousins, nor that Viserys betrothed his niece and mother without even asking.” I’m alive, Mother has explained well enough what should have happened once Lord Clegane scaled the walls of the Red Keep.

    “You will be Princess of Dorne one day, so use this time to show the Realm how strong you are.” Mother chimes in more warmly than her brother. “Don’t choose some pretty face with no real value or a terrible man with wealth. Find someone who will leave you with the real power and not contest your rule.”

    “Elia is correct.” Agrees Doran with a relieved voice at yet another argument being ended before it could really begin. “You are approving of the man, it is my responsibility to approve of the family he hails from.”

    Uncle Doran likes keeping secrets but Mother makes sure to explain his decisions. I think that’s the only reason Mellario isn’t going back to Norvos over Quentyn leaving for the Vale. While the Prince of Dorne cares about his long term plans and Oberyn is all about instant payback… Mother makes sure to remind us all that living family comes before revenge.

    “You aren’t just picking someone for me?” With more vulnerability than she normally reveals, Arianne gives her father a relieved smile.

    “As long as you work with me, I have no reason to turn you against me with a marriage you despise.” Something twinkles in Uncle Doran’s eyes. “Besides, Storm’s End is not bereft of worthy men. Maybe you’ll send word of your choice before you even arrive at Casterly Rock.”

    Arianne’s eyes widen in realization and I can see her mind whirling with thought. Renly is a third son and Viserys has already shown he has no desire to rule. Telling the Lords Paramount the throne makes people crazy will always make me smile… and then I can’t shake how true his words seem to be.

    The lessons with the Maestor have only shown me how few members of family to sit the throne manage to stay sane. We either shun the crown or seem to go mad, I’ll be happy as Princess of Dragonstone. Wait… does this mean my children will retain the title?

    “You won’t have long before other families make a move on Viserys, the Tyrells are only waiting until he is no longer Stannis’ to control.” Elia cautions my cousin. “Ashara’s raven said he won’t be a squire much longer, he seems to have gone on another adventure to Summerhall.”

    “He’s going where?” Arthur hisses from his seat beside our driver and shoves his worried face through the divider. “And when?”

    “Ashara said he was going to Summerhall before Robert gives it to Renly.” Scowling at Arhur’s tone, Mother never the less answers his question. “He and ‘Duncan’ had already left by the time she sent the raven.”

    Ser Dayne’s face gets a pinched look and a bead of sweat starts to roll down his forehead, though it’s probably from the rather hot day he’s being forced to endure.

    “… Barristan says Viserys is quite good with Wode’s morning star, right?” It’s sweet how much they worry about us, even after they had the chance to go back to a normal life.

    “You sound worried Ser Arthur,” Grunts Uncle Doran slowly but Arthur is quick with his charming smile.

    “It’s just that each time Prince Rhaegar and I traveled to the ruins, brigands had used the curse to conceal themselves from observation of the local lords.”​
     
  19. Threadmarks: Chapter 19: Headstart
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 19: Headstart
    Renly Baratheon

    The second Alyn blurts out Stannis’ plan to steal from me, my blood rages like a storm. Of course Stannis can’t let me have anything of my own, he won’t even let me have rubble!

    Nothing I do is good enough for him, it’s why I gave up trying to be anything more than adequate years ago… no one cares. Even Barristan spends more time worrying about my cousin and I’m his damn squire.

    I had to beg Robert on his last visit for a seat of my own, it’s not my fault he gave me Summerhall. It’s not like I hate Viserys or anything, I would have given him anything that looked like an heirloom. He’s just so boring ever since his mother’s wedding, maybe finding him an egg will finally put a smile on that dullard’s face.

    “Get the others and meet me at the stables,” Grabbing my sword belt with sudden surge of excitement I let a grin split my face. “We’re leaving before it gets dark.” If Ser Barristan is mad… I’ll just tell him we decided to scout ahead once they arrive.

    “Podsville is only an hours away, we’ll spend the night and rise with the sun.” My comment has my Estermont cousin try and fail to contain a snort of amusement. “I can wake early if I need to, I’m not just some spoiled prince.” Stannis won’t let me enjoy my status, but Cersei and Joffrey are allowed to be as demanding as they wish.

    Of course Viserys still spends time with the boy, I think he’s the only one who still seeks him out. I’ve seen the look in Visery’s eyes when he does and I know he finds no enjoyment in it. The strange mix of guilt and determination is just another reminder of what a real prince is like… according to Stannis and his wife that is.

    By the time I manage to sneak outside without Viserys’ friends seeing me, my own party are saddling the horses. All of them except one is excited by my idea and I hold back a groan when Galladon voices his complaint.

    “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Galladon of Tarth is older by a few years and I’ve only recently started noticing how nice his smile is, though his lips are distorted by a very unflattering scowl at the moment.

    “It’s a great idea,” I insist with bravado. “Stannis is always telling me to be responsible and now I am. Can’t let my cousin and his friends get hurt, we need to check it out for danger first.”

    If we wait, Viserys will just take over the whole trip. He keeps saying he has nothing but a name left, yet it takes all my charm to stop my friends from flocking to him.





    The innkeeper earned his pay and had us all fed and on the road just as the cocks began crowing. Looking at the verdant fields of peas we pass, I take a deep breathe of the sweet air.

    “At least the lands seem fruitful,” Lester Morrigen stops his whistling with a dark laugh. “Even if Summerhall is cursed, you can always just build your keep somewhere else.”

    “Green’s better than the drab grey of Storm’s End, but first thing I’m doing is having things with color planted everywhere.” As pleasing as the change in scenery is, it’s still very monotone and will grow just as boring before long. “Strawberries and cherries, with some plums and sunflowers would be a good start I think.”

    Cressen says Summerhall is overgrown with black walnut and blueberries. Those nasty trees are at least valuable timber, should be able to pay for some of the construction. I’ll need to ask Robert for a loan, no way Stannis will help me with it.

    Realizing the birds haven’t been singing for longer than I can remember, I take a closer look at the farmhouses along the road. None of them have any sign of life and these fields are strangely bare.

    “Harvest isn’t for another month I thought?” My words have my Sworn Sword growl out a ‘no’.

    “I don’t see any people or animals… something’s wrong.” My youngest companion Balon Swann hisses in worry.

    He’s right but I can’t show my own fear. Stannis would stay resolute and deal with the trouble in our lands. Even Viserys would deal with it himself.

    “Check the houses, see if anyone can tell us what happened here.” Ignoring the fear so it doesn’t spread to me, I direct my friends to different moss covered cabins. “You can help Foxglove look for tracks Balon, he can keep you safe.”

    “We got bodies Renly,” Alyn is pale faced when he reemerges from his own cottage to check. “I’m guessing it’s the same in the other houses.”

    “We need to make sure,” Swallowing my fear is harder than I imagined, but I force myself to do it anyway. “Someone could still be alive.”

    He winces at the idea of having to search another house. “Not if they’re all missing heads.”

    “We should ride for Lord Peasbury’s castle,” Ser Foxglove advises with none of his normal good humor, his emerald eyes locked in a fierce stare. “It’s not safe for us to remain any longer Prince Renly. Whoever did this may still be nearby and we haven’t been quiet.”

    Mocking laughter comes from woods on the far side of the road. Seven men emerge and only one is without his bow drawn. The leader has a massive two handed ax in his hand, the blade gleaming silver under the morning light. “No, you really haven’t been.”

    The one in charge is in plate armor and I glare at the sight of his shield. “Silveraxe Fell. Why are you spitting on my brother’s mercy like this?”

    “You aren’t the one asking questions anymore little Renly, so keep yer mouth shut and drop yer weapons.” He saunters up to my sworn sword and swings his weapon into William’s gut before his sword can be drawn. “I said drop em… or do you boys need another example to learn your manners?”

    “Don’t hurt anyone else and we’ll come quietly.” I growl in defeat and know my brother’s wouldn’t just give up.

    But I’m not either of them, like everyone keeps pointing out. Not as mighty with a weapon as Robert or as disciplined as Stannis… all I have is my looks over them. Stannis has never been more than passable, even with all of Cersei’s attempts to spruce him up.

    Robert may once have been handsome, but he and his wife have really let themselves go. Each time they visit, it seems like they’ve gained another twenty pounds between them. Lyanna’s brother is handsome though and really has the look of a roguish prince. His easy charm is something I want to emulate far more than my brothers’ pigheadedness or Viserys’ dullness.

    “See, that wasn’t so hard.” Silveraxe has two of his men bind our wrists in a line. “We just need you to sift through some rubble and we’ll ransom you back to your families. So be good and you’ll all see mommy again.”


    “Was really nice of them to bring us all these horses, was getting really sore feet with all this walking.” One of Fell’s men cheers and flings himself onto Galladon’s steed Sapphire. “If we can find a few more, it’ll make it a breeze to meet up with the ship.”

    “Shut up or lose yer tongue.” Slamming his fist into the mouthy ones gut even from a standing height, Silveraxe has to be nearly the same size as Robert. “The boys only need to know where to dig, if they learn to much we ever let them go. Each one’s worth more than yer life, so don’t push me.” Only he looks like all well toned muscle I wouldn’t mind having, not as if feasts beyond count have turned him flabby.

    They loot Ser William’s body and toss it in the woods once finished, before leading us away. Jogging behind our horses gives me more empathy for the infantry who do this during war.

    “Let’s see how fast they can run, who ever can bring their boy back first gets two servings of the Storm girl.” Fell’s cruel laughter is shared by his fellows and I find they look more like pirates than knights. The golden teeth and earrings stand out as oddities and I can only wonder what the Hells Fell is up to.

    Barristan is on his way, he’ll get us out of this mess. That thought is the only thing keeping me motivated enough to run and soon I find us pulling ahead of the others.

    “Didn’t think you’d have it in you, Stannis never said you took after Robert.” The words are meant to be mocking, but I only take that as motivation. You’re going to die and it’s going to be this Baratheon who does it.​
     
    Last edited: Oct 31, 2021
  20. Threadmarks: Chapter 20: What Are They Doing Here?
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 20: What Are They Doing Here?
    Viserys Targaryen

    Once Sandor’s massive black bear dog drags the body of Renly’s sworn sword from the woods, Barristan is quick to order the youngest among us away for help. Duncan and the younger two Seaworths race away at a cantor while the rest of us prepare for trouble.

    “We’re only going to find Prince Renly and wait for Duncan to bring Lord Peasbury’s men.” My nerves settle down into only a buzz of anxiety at Ser Barristan’s calm command.

    The stench of blood from inside the single house I worked up the courage to check for clues, will remain in my memories for far longer than I would care to admit. At least whoever has Renly and his friends is smart enough to keep him for ransom, he should be able to last a few more hours with them.

    “The only place a group big enough to do this could be hiding is Summerhall.” Barristan explains when we voice confusion as he leads us of the road. “Your brother and I came this way in case more bandits had chosen the ruins as a base. A deer trail nearby should lead up to a ledge with a perfect view of the ruins.”

    “Those really don’t last more than a few years though,” He snorts at my remark and has his own quick response.

    “They only shift around a bit, we’ll just need to be quiet while we search for the new one.”

    His confidence is hard to argue with so I don’t even try. Instead I let my worry for Renly fill my thoughts. Why didn’t you just wait for us? I wouldn’t have said no, if you had just asked to come.

    When we do find the trail, it’s far too narrow for horses and we end up leaving them under Ser Humfrey Clifton’s lazy eye. We’re forced to crawl when the brush thins but soon a raised ledge of exposed sandstone conceals us from view once again.

    “Whoa… that’s a lot of bandits.” Hisses Dale and I know his eyes are drawn tight in fear without needing to look over.

    Over thirty people are in two groups, with most flowing in and out of the ruins. I can’t tell what they’re hauling out of the building from this distance, but three distinct piles are clearly visible. The smaller group is only made up of twelve men, but they seem as well armored as any knight.

    When he growls beside me, I can picture Ronnet grabbing his sword hilt instinctively for comfort… half a second before it rattles in his hand. “Those aren’t bandits.”

    “How can you tell?” Barristan doesn’t argue and patiently waits for Ronnet’s rather surprising answer.

    “Because that’s my Father’s horse!” The rage in his voice is now making sense and I take a closer look at the six steeds beside the ones stolen from Renly and his friends’.

    He’s right! I can see a Cafferen with the twin white fawns on green and Grandison’s sleeping black lion on a field of yellow. And the other three aren’t even from around here I realize with growing worry.

    That’s the bastard Addam Rykker’s banner, the reversed blue warhammers crossed on a black satire over white. And that would be a Northern banner I recognize next, the leafless tree with a mint green background. The final visible shield is the three heads of the Sunderlands and I have no idea why they have come so far South.

    “I don’t see Renly anywhere.” His friends hadn’t been tied up with the group at the fire, so they must have put them to work searching the rubble.

    Sandor points out the first familiar figure any of us have seen. “Looks like one of the Swanns just came out of the closest building, can’t tell if it’s Donnel or Balon though. We’re going to need to shave one of them so we can actually tell them apart next time.”

    “If they live to next time you mean.” With rage growing in his normally more easygoing voice, Ronnet sounds ready to charge down by himself.

    “Better odds by far than Duskendale or King’s Landing.” I get a grim nod nod from the boldest among us, right before he begins rubbing dirt in his shoulder length graying hair. “Sandor and I will sneak down and get word of incoming rescue to the boys. You lot just need to worry about signaling us once the Peasbury men arrive.”

    “But-” Ronnet doesn’t get more than a single word of complaint out before Sandor shuts him up with a stern growl.

    “But nothing. We have no idea how many of those people are captives or just the grunts speeding things up.”

    Agreeing with his once squire’s words, Barristan at least does so with more care for the fuming Connington. “Sandor’s right. If I knew it was only those twelve we needed to take down I might consider letting you help.”

    “We’ll need a few alive for answers, we’ll try and make sure your father is one of them.” Hisses Sandor as he and Barristan carefully descend the game trail. “Don’t worry about being bored, the others look to have plenty of questions for you.”

    Damn straight we do! It took longer than I’d like for Ronnet’s words to register and when they do I exhale slowly. The look in Dale’s eye when I glance to him as a gauge for whether I’m overreacting, assures me I’m not alone in my growing fury.

    “Why does your father… have Renly captive?” I manage not to scream somehow, but it’s a close thing.

    “Looks like he’s responsible for a lot of trouble. So what do you know about all of this Ronnet?” He goes pale when he back into Ser Colen of Greenpools and realizes we’ve surrounded him.

    “Nothing!” He pleas desperately but right now my only concern is saving my stupid cousin. “You know as well as anyone I only see him when I go home for my nameday and that’s months away.”

    Ser Malegorn of Redpools crosses his arms and snorts derisively. “Bullshit. Something this big takes months to organize, they probably told you last year.”

    “I swear I know nothing about this!” Ronnet’s not this good of an actor I realize and start to believe his claim. “Father only told me to do my best to befriend Renly, which you also know I failed at. He hoped that would be the path to reclaiming our title one day.

    “Even if the King would have done so one day, I’m pretty sure Prince Stannis will see him hang for this.” Comments a still scowling Dale and Ronnet doesn’t argue.

    “He knows I’m a hostage…” Shaking as the harsh truth floods him, Ronnet’s face contorts in a snarl. “This is as good as him declaring me dead. So I should treat him the same damn way.” He grabs his sword even tighter than I do and tries to control his short rapid breathing.

    You really didn’t have any idea, did you? “If he dies, it won’t be by your hand. Friends don’t let friends slay their kin.” At least not with witnesses around.

    “If you’re telling the truth, your blade will be red on his friends blood once we charge with the Peasbury men.” Dale isn’t as quick to forgive and I know only Renly’s impulsiveness saved us from springing this trap. Allard and Matthos could have died… we all still could.

    “Find as many of our friends as we can and try and count how many foes we’re going to be fighting.” I’m really not liking the idea of charging against three-to-one odds. So I’ hoping most are captives, no matter how dark a wish that really is.

    Once we settle in for the wait, it doesn’t actually take that long to differentiate the people down below. Only a handful of the ones swarming the ruins are armed and they’re very clearly directing the fifteen or so captives.

    “It looks split almost half and half between them, we can take the traitors once Renly and the others are warned.” Ser Humrey has noticed he same thing I have but come to a far different conclusion. “We don’t need to wait for Lord Peasbury to take over. No reason to give them all the glory.”

    “Not risking Renly on such a big maybe.” He scowls but does finally concede to my firm command.

    Allard glances my way and snorts, relieving some of the hair trigger tension that’s been building for an hour. “It’s kind of scary how much you look like Stannis when you grit your teeth like that.”

    “Don’t let Renly hear you say that, or he’ll get all pissy again.” He fires back to chuckles from the three knights, but I’m left confused.

    “What are you talking about?” I look nothing like him.

    He rolls his eyes and starts holding up fingers. “The short hair, inability to really have fun for more than a few minutes at a time, and lack of any style. No… Renly has no reason to think you’re trying to replace him.”

    “Shit!” Ser Humfrey interupts with a worried hiss. “Ronnet’s not waiting. Is he turning us in?”

    Looking down at the bottom of the game trail reveals the absent Connington and I can tell by the drawn sword he’s not going to be pointing it our way. “Nope, so get you asses down and back him up! I’ll cover you.”

    Drawing my bow with fingers shaking from anxiety, I don’t wait for Ronnet’s yelling match with his father to end. Going into a zen like state, the ‘bandits’ are replaced in my eyes with the straw men I practice against. Except you lot aren’t swaying in the current.

    One after another I fire arrows with painful precision at the startled knights. The first arrow strikes the Stane man right in the throat and drops him to the dirt like his strings have been cut. My second hits the Cafferen knight in the knee and he screams in pain while I take a quick breath.

    I get two more off before Ronnet is to close for anymore shots and grin at the three shrieking men. They kept their heads down after I killed the first, but knee and elbow hits will leave them nearly as out of the fight.

    The three men watching the captives are overpowered by two men surging from the rubble. Barristan is going to kill us for this. Ignoring that unpleasant future for now, I scan for any clear targets.
     
  21. Threadmarks: Chapter 21: We Had A Plan!
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 21: We Had A Plan!
    Viserys Targaryen

    Once I can’t tell foe from captive, I shoulder my bow and pull my flute from my waist. With practiced ease the pieces snugly slide together and I let out two strong notes that echo through the pass. If that doesn’t get Peasbury to pick up the pace, I’m all out of ideas.

    No more practice, this is for Edmure. I repeat the words in my head with each stride down the narrow game trail, ignoring the stinging pain of the thorn bushes stabbing into my skin.

    The morning star in my hand begins to spin with a whistle that promises bone shattering agony for whoever it lands on and I charge into the fray with a screech of fury. The noise saves Dale from being skewered by his foe and when the Grandison Knight turns towards me… Dale shoves a blade right through his armpit.

    “Back to back, we can’t let them surround us or we’re all dead!” He does so with no complaint and I know my back is safe as long as my best friend draws breath.

    “We need to get to the others!” He roars over the shriek of my first victim, a very tanned man with far too much gold jewelry to be a knight. All of them are decently armored, these aren’t some basic bandits at all.

    “Humfrey is down and Silveraxe is toying with Ronnet, you need to get out of here.” Malegorn barks at me with grim determination, even as Ser Colen falls to a spear in the eye beside him. “Ser Seaworth and I will make these pissheads forget all about you.”

    Dale is as confused as I am at the name and I almost expect to see Davos charging down the road next with the Peasbury men. Of course that hope is dashed before it truly even forms.

    “But I’m no knight?” Mutters Dale, though I barely hear it over the clanging of his blade keeping my head on it’s shoulders.

    “You beat all of us knights into this deathtrap and I don’t lose to squires.” Malegorn of Redpools slams his hilt into his foes hand, shattering the bone and sending the hatchet it held to the dirt. “You’re willing to fight and die as a man and I’ve seen you have the skill to be called one. So lets slaughter these assholes Ser Dale!”

    I’m not outrunning horses, this is all or nothing for everyone here. The knowledge my death is going to come soon fills me with a calmness as I accept my fate. My family is safe except for Renly… we just need to take enough of these bastards down so that he can escape with the captives.

    “You just woke the Dragon!” I dash away from Dale and narrow my eyes on the one behind all of this. Ronnet’s Father still has a clean sword, but he’s definitely chosen his side. He’s not even trying to change his son’s mind anymore, all he’s doing is staring in silence like the piece of shit he is.

    I shatter the man’s shield into pieces on my fourth swing and finish of the Connington knight by caving in his helmet. The splatter of red covers my face before I can close my eyes, but my tunnel vision doesn’t let me get distracted.

    Make as much noise as I can and disable as many as possible. A crippled man is just as good at keeping captives restrained, I don’t need to finish them off once they drop. Besides… maybe the screams will encourage Renly to get off his ass and run.

    Ronnet’s scream of conflicted grief leaves him exposed and Silveraxe decides it’s time to finish off the teen. The bellow becomes a shriek of agony when his sword hand is taken off with the massive silver ax.

    Unfortunately I’ll never know how well Ronnet could have adjusted to the loss, for the silver blade next ends the screaming by removing Ronnet’s head. The wet thud when it hits the dirt resonates in my head and I finally found the foe I’m going to give my all against.

    Silveraxe swerves out of the way of my first overhand swing and avoids the figure eight pattern of my follow up attempts with mocking words. “Come on ‘Viserys the Vermin’, I thought we woke the dragon. Or are you just a dragonfly about to be squashed?”

    He drives the haft of his ax into chest, driving me to the ground with a pained gasp. You’ve had more than enough to find Renly, you better be long gone by now Barristan.

    When I roll over and try to climb back to my feet, the savage Fell knight stomps down on my wrist. “How about I peel your wings off one by one… should make all those who swore loyalty to your family feel better about you being such a coward.”

    Slamming his ax into the headless body of Ronnet, he draws a curved knife used to fillet a fish to replace it. “Now it’ll make it faster if you stay still, but I really want to hear you scream for mercy Boy.”

    “Get away from my cousin you traitorous cur!” A voice I haven’t wanted to hear in years bellows with outrage. A stampede of footsteps comes from the ruins and I manage to twist my head just enough to see my rescuers.

    Renly leads the captives with the very tools they had been provided to dig. He wields a pickax in both hands and for the first time reminds me of how intimidating Robert really can be.

    Flanking him on either side is Sandor and Barristan, with the rest of the wards only a few paces between them and the smallfolk. At ten paces Renly looks ready to face Silveraxe, who chuckles in amusement.

    “What’s with all these boys trying to challenge me?” The ‘bandits’ leader readies himself to meet Renly’s charge and grinds my hand painfully beneath his heel. “Your not worth keeping ali-” Renly surprises everyone including himself I think and flings his weapon instead of closing with his foe.

    The pick whirls through the air and drives the point end right through his chain mail. Whatever Fell wanted to say is disguised by his dying gurgles and I’m finally able to haul myself back to a standing position. The throbbing in my good hand warns me I won’t be shooting for a while and that I should probably start training with my left.

    “Is it over?” Pants Renly and I can see how pale he is. “Did you save us?” his hands are shaking uncontrollably and I realize this is his first real fight.

    “No Renly…” He looks annoyed when it sounds like I’m going to blame him for everything. “We saved each other.” When I finish though, his face shifts into an expression of relieved disbelief.

    “Really? You aren’t going to take credit for the rescue and tell Stannis I rode ahead?”

    This doesn’t seem to have been targeted against either of us specifically, so we’re going to need to bring someone back for interrogation.“Whoever went first would have been in the same boat, you scouting ahead gave us a chance to send for Lord Peasbury’s help.” I give an embarrassed giggle to relieve the tension.

    “Besides… I thought Barristan and you lot ran for it once Ronnet screwed everything up.” We had a plan! “Do you know what they wanted to find here?” Even though I think I know, I do need some unbiased confirmation.

    “You won’t believe me unless you see it with your own eyes.” He smirks at me and tries not to look at the bodies. “So can I show you, this horrific. How can you ignore the smell?”

    “I’m from King’s Landing.” That should be enough but I have even more to add. “And you know… I had to escape into the sewers with Rhaenys and Jaime. Let’s just say his cloak was brown by the end of the day.”

    He nearly gags at the idea and turns away. “Gross.” His voice loses the normal bravado and he actually sounds vulnerable. “Why didn’t you invite me? I wasn’t going to keep anything that was special.”

    “This is the only thing my family has left.” It shouldn’t matter so much but whatever remains of Viserys inside me needed to do this. “Once it’s yours… all I have is a name. It’s why I wanted to see how much of the wood was usable, wanted to turn Summerhall into Summerhull.” It was a stupid idea, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up like an idiot.

    “What do you mean you have nothing, hasn’t Stannis told you?” Renly has a strange look in his blue eyes and he seems to make a realization. “You don’t know you’re his favorite… do you?”

    “That’s ridiculous,” I deny that claim at once, I’ve never been anyone’s favorite in either life. “You’re his brother… I’m just the cousin he might have to kill if Dorne gets uppity.”

    “He’s going to give you land if you keep being such a kiss-ass.” His voices goes stiff and grim. “Probably going to give you the Griffin’s Roost now, no way the Connington’s are keeping anything. Except maybe their lives if they take the black.”

    “Maybe.” No point in ruining this strange peace between Renly and I with needless bickering. “Now what did you find?”

    Renly scowls at my impatience and sighs. “Fine, I was just trying to surprise you.”

    “Please don’t. Surprises end up with my friends dead.” I can’t grieve for them until I’m safe back in my room.

    “We had to sort everything into three piles.” He finally answers. “Rubble, valuables, and weapons. Do you know what dragon bone looks like by the way?” His sudden question makes me nod slowly.

    “Yeah, saw lots of skulls in the Red Keep.”

    He nods eagerly. “Good, because we found a bow and no one could actually be sure what it was made of. We also found a Valyrian steel candlestick, some dragon engraved silverware, and a nice assortment of coins.”

    “None of that’s a great big shock, though it’s still a great find for you.” He found it, not right of me to demand them for myself after he did the hard labor.

    “A great find for us.” He insists with a cautious smile and it takes a moment for me to hesitantly return it. “But once I figured out what Silveraxe wanted, I made sure none one handed in any of the eggs.”

    Something about the way his eyes twinkle makes me freeze mid-step. “… Eggs?”

    “Yeah.” Renly smirks wide at me. “Seven of them and we made sure to hide them. Wanted to make sure these bastards didn’t get what they really wanted.” His voice is filled with cockiness as he sees my awe spread across my face.

    “Good thinking.” He blushes pink from my praise and leads me to a section of piled rubble.

    “Best part is, all of them are warm still.” Shifting the rubble exposes seven glittering scaled stones and he hands me the coppery green one.

     
  22. Threadmarks: Chapter 22: Beauty And The Beach
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 22: Beauty And The Beach
    Arianne Martell

    Rhaenys struggles to keep her eyes open long after Aegon dozes off beside her, the red silk sheets tucked right up to his rather green face. Haven’t seen that shade in a few years. Brushing the stray thought aside, I share a giggle with Rhaenys when my brother lets out a snore from his hammock behind me.

    They aren’t going to make you sleep on top of the Eerie, you don’t need to practice sleeping up high. She does manage to stay awake until the last page, but my practiced bedtime tone makes sure I don’t need to make up another story tonight.

    Standing at the same time a wave breaks on the ship nearly sends me tumbling to to floor. How much more of this rocking before we arrive? I’ve barely been able to walk in a straight line since we left Sunspear and I know Aegon isn’t keeping anything down for long.

    Doesn’t matter, this is my chance to choose for myself. Elia never got that choice and she nearly died for it. If I can’t find someone who will treat me as an equal… I’ll at least have enough time to find a simpleton with a respectable name to control.

    If Viserys really has no desire for power and just wants to float around on one of these horrible things, I can always give him control of Dorne’s fleet. But it can’t really be that easy… can it?

    He talked down four Lord’s Paramount out for his head and kept his entire family alive. Rhaenys and Aegon didn’t even have to become hostages until it was long proven the deal would be honored. Viserys has something more than rocks in his head and I’m going to need to find out exactly how much he takes after King Scab.

    Softly closing the door to our cabin, I lean on the rails and carefully climb the stairs back onto the deck. The salty air has a slightly different smell than I’m used to and I try not to gag on the overpowering odor of shellfish.

    Under the tumultuous dark grey clouds above, I find it nearly impossible to distinguish the black sea from sky. The shoreline is only distinguished by dots of orange sparsely placed and It takes a few minutes of searching to find a cluster big enough to call a village.

    Where’s Ser Arthur gotten to? My lips curl into a smile as I start to once again prowl the boat. He’ll at least be something pretty to look at before bed.

    “What are we going to do with Arianne?” I freeze at the tension in Ser Gerold Hightower’s voice and decide not to open the door to the helm’s tower just yet. “She wasn’t supposed to be here and she’s smart enough to know we aren’t approaching Storm’s End.”

    “Don’t worry so much my friend,” The captain answers with his thick Pentoshi accent. “My fleet is ready to cover our escape… once we transfer our cargo at the Griffin’s Roost of course. I’ve got good coin on our boys only finding two, so they better not be late.”

    “Once the children are on the Stag’s Heart, we can load the infected goods.” I nearly gasp at how cruel the Sword of the Morning sounds right now.

    Showing his own sinister nature, the captain agrees heartily. “Storm’s End and Dragonstone not long after will face justice for Varys. My master has waited six long years for this”

    “We’ve all waited for our vengeance on the Usurpers and the ‘Dickless Dragon’.” Gerold grunts back with a far more controlled anger and I can only assume he means Viserys. “A few more months will ensure the Ironborn ready themselves and the Vale Lord’s agents are in place. We’ll only have one chance to do this properly.”

    “As long as Rhaenys goes to my master’s son and is named Prince of Dragonstone… our interests continue to align.” The accent takes a few seconds to decipher but when I do, the panic nearly overwhelms me. “Oberyn gave his siblings countless chances to do what is right, they just lacked the fire to do so. Hopefully they can forgive him for his role in restoring the true dynasty before this is over.”

    With wide eyes I scan the barely visible shoreline for an escape and this time do gasp out loud. Over a dozen ships with black sails are bobbing before us with menacing silence.

    “The Princess heard!” Gerold’s panicked roar has me react with less than perfect planning.

    Dashing for the railing I grab the lid off a crate and do not hesitate. I close my eyes and throw myself over the railing into the night air now filled with a light rainfall.

    Splashing into the cold water sucks the air from my chest and I struggle to kick my way back to the surface. I’m eventually forced to slide out of the top of my orange silk dress or be dragged down with it.

    When my head finds the very welcome air, I take a huge breath and kick despite the roars from the boat. “Get in the rowboats and get the Princess back here!”

    Not happening. Ignoring the ache in my heart from this betrayal, I focus on the lights I hope come from a village. Shore’s less than five hundred yards away… I can do this.

    Each kick both sends me surging forward through the waves and saps me of energy. The current is non existent in the Water Gardens and I was not prepared for how strong the tide can be.

    My vision gets spotty before I’m even halfway to shore and the pounding in my ears drowns out the sounds of anything else. I have to tell Father what’s happening… he needs to know about Oberyn.

    The venom of the betrayal is all that gives my kicks strength and soon my spotty vision fades to a blank whiteness. Just keep kicking. Repeating the mantra is all I can do and thankfully it’s enough to keep me going.

    My foot slams into a rock but the shooing pain is welcome for the surge of energy it brings. I made it to shore!

    When my feet graze the seaweed, I weep with relief. Soon my toes sink into the silt with each step and I emerge from the waves.

    Shivering in the rain that has grown into a full blown storm sends me stumbling along the beach for shelter. The shouts from far to close makes me try and run.

    My stiff legs don’t respond correctly and I fall face first into the black sand. With the last of my energy I try and crawl, only for the sound of splashing oars to become clear behind me.

    I was so close. I don’t even have the energy to scream the words in my own head and lack the strength left to pull myself any farther.

    The sound of beating hooves confuses me for a moment, but the confidant laughs soon becomes worried yelling. “Those are Baratheon banners!” Back to th-”

    The loudest one is silenced with the hoof beats and I realize a little too gleefully he must be dead. “Kill those traitors like the snakes the are!” I guess I don’t feel even a tiny bit bad.

    “Get the girl off the beach ‘Serys,” A deep but still recognizably teen male’s voice roars a second before a high pitched shriek. “We’ll make sure to take a few of these bastards alive.”

    “Take my hand!” A voice with far less boom and far more warmth comes with a hand jutting in front of me. “We don’t want you getting trampled in a night fight M’lady.” The man is confident and I decide to trust him.

    Firmly taking hold of an archers’ calloused hand, I find myself pulled up in a single confidant motion. Throwing my leg over the horses neck allows me to slide into place in front of my rescuer.

    He slides an arm around my waist, holding me loose but somehow also securely against him. Once he gets us a safe distance away, I sink into him and take deep gasps for breath.

    “Are you alright?” His voice is far closer to my own age than I had first believed and far more nervous than only a minute ago. “… Did they harm you?”

    “No, but I need to get to Storm’s End and warn them.” I remember the talk of infected goods and my family still sleeping on the ship. “And my Father needs to be told of his brother’s betrayal.”

    “Pronouns are fine…” I can hear the smile in his voice and can’t wait to see how charming it is in the light. “But I kind of need to know your name, for anything you said to make sense.”

    “Princess Arianne Nymeros Martell of Dorne.”

    My false confidence works and he sputters behind me. “What?”

    “And your name good Ser?” He goes stiff behind me and I take the chance to wiggle a little closer. “Or would you perhaps be a lord’s son instead?”

    The first friendly voice I heard answers my question as the rider trots towards us. “Viserys! We got two alive but the fleet is making right for Griffon’s Roost.”

    A torch in the other rider’s hand reveals the speaker is almost the spitting image of Robert Baratheon. You must be Prince Renly, so who’s that beside you?

    “Um… Viserys.” The torchbearer’s eyes go wide when the light reveals my attire. Flushing bright pink he immediately looks down at he sand. “You do know she’s practically naked, right?”

    “What are you doing?” Renly barks at the still as stone Viserys behind me. “Give her your cloak!”

    Viserys snaps out of his stupor and hands me a cloak with shaking hands. “Here you go.”

    “Thanks.”

    “No welcome,” He stutters out and smacks himself in the forehead once he realizes what he said. “No, I mean your problem.” He groans as Renly and his torchbearer chortle in amusement. “I mean maybe I should stop talking.”

    Renly finally gives me a name for the third teen. “Hear that Ser Dale, someone managed to shut Viserys up.” He emphasizes the title.

    “I know Prince Renly, I like this girl.” This blonde knight Dale smirks back like an old friend. “How about you take her back to Storm’s End with Barristan and we’ll deal with Griffon’s Roost?”

    “It’ll be better if Renly is seen leading the forces,” Viserys concedes with an audible frown. “Just no more scouting ahead.”

    “Can you do what ever you did last time and make him go back to stuttering?” Renly snorts out and I can see Visery’s arm go a shade pinker. “It’s way more fun than when tries to act all responsible.”

    “Arianne, would you like to ride?” Viserys ignores his cousin and speaks to me directly. “On my horse!” His voices goes shrill as I laugh alongside Renly and Dale. “It wasn’t a proposition or anything!”

    Wiggling a little bit closer to him once again, I wink at a belly laughing Renly. “That’s a shame.”​
     
    Last edited: Nov 2, 2021
  23. Threadmarks: Chapter 23: Ride Along
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 23: Ride Along
    Viserys Targaryen

    As Arianne fills Barristan and I in on the details of her escape, I can’t help but notice her constant shivering. She keeps sliding backwards and I’m finally out of saddle to escape on. She’s freezing!

    Before I can change my mind I pull Arianne firmly against my chest. Just got to be careful with my arm placement, don’t be a creep now. My breathing comes out stilted when she relaxes against me.

    “How are you still so warm in this weather?” Her teeth aren’t chattering nearly as much as earlier and I ignore Barristan’s soft chuckling from behind us.

    “It was both amusing to hear the strange things you claimed to be truth and terrifying to see you facing a foe I could not shield you from.” I roll my eyes and am just glad I seem to have kept my feverish ramblings to telling everyone about the stars. “He thinks all of the water in the world came from the stars, after centuries of crashing into a barren rock.”

    At least I was abstract enough to sound delirious. “Never really been cold, or even too hot except the one time I had a fever.” Would have been my only advantage if Robert had actually sent me North.

    She hisses in annoyance at that comment. “How is that in any way fair?”

    “No Baratheon has ever been struck by lightning and here in the Stormlands that’s far more common of a danger than you’d first believe.” When she gasps in horrified shock, I manage not to laugh for three entire seconds. “I’m just japing. Don’t worry about the clouds, the storm has nearly cried itself out.” That sounded charming and not stupid I hope.

    “And we’re almost home,” Barristan’s voice is far to cheery after a night ride through a storm. “We’ll be able to see the castle once we clear the trees. Ashara will be happy to know I missed yet another battle.”

    “Lady Ashara is still here?” I share a frown with him when we can both hear the confusion in Arianne’s voice. “But Arthur said her and the children would have been halfway to Starfall by now.”

    “Princess Cersei wouldn’t let Ashara go until after she gave birth, we had to postpone the visit by a few months.”

    As the path exits the woods and Arianne can finally see my cousin’s home, She sits up straight to take in the impressive sight. I can feel my face heat up at the increase in physical contact and struggle to keep my thoughts on the far blander scenery.

    “It’s so imposing.” She looks back over one shoulder and seeing her face for the first time, nearly makes my heart leap from my mouth. “Sunspear covers a lot more land, but your castle looks nearly three times the height of ours.”

    Warm morning light shines against her wind dried hair, shimmering like the sea in the middle of a nighttime thunderstorm. Her eyes are such a dark brown, I find myself lost in them as I try to distinguish them from her pupils.

    When I don’t respond fast enough, her warm smile shifts into a satisfied smirk. “You aren’t big enough to pull of the strong silent type and you really don’t look good with such a horrid hairstyle.”

    “M wife has been trying to tell him that for years,” Barristan manages not to share his own opinion. “I wish you all the luck if that’s the quest you have taken on.”

    “Luck is for the average.” She laughs lightly and by now I must look like a burn victim. “Viserys will listen to reason I hope.” She even smells amazing, like spiced red wine.

    Barristan gives me a stern scowl that always makes me feel far too guilty. “Most people would accuse him of being quite boring. He’s been far to focused on earning a knighthood, he forgets a person wears the armor.”

    Getting close enough to castle for the docked ships to be identifiable makes me kick Pepper Anne into a gallop. “That’s not one of our boats!” A ship stained nearly black flies a merchants flag, but the design is definitely Pentoshi.

    “You truly have no idea what the infection is?” I have my own horrific suspicion but nothing I can actually share as evidence.

    The defeated voice of Arianne answers with a whisper. “No.”

    “Seal the gates Barristan, I’ll lock down the pier!” He gives me a grim faced confirmation as we race through the iron gates, breaking off to see the vital task done.

    “Lock down the castle and get every door shut!” My bellow has the guards react though slower than I would like. “No one can leave the castle until we know the disease is contained.” That spurs the Baratheon men to action.

    Maybe thirty five people are in the courtyard and I can already hear confused complaints from the smallfolk. I ignore them for now and only stop long enough to let Arianne down from my horse.

    “Make sure the castle doors stay shut, I’m needed at the docks.” Having an actual goal brings me focus and I gather as many guards as can be spared. “Make sure Maester Cressen sends every single raven before leaving his tower. We can’t let this spread.”

    “But you don’t even know what it is yet?” She frowns in concern at my strict commands.

    “You don’t go to all this effort for a common cold, this is supposed kill people!” I raise my voice and instead of finding her mad at the tone, Arianne just gives me an approving smirk.

    “You better hurry, it looks like the crew is trying to get away.”

    She’s right of course and I only have time to kick my mare into a trot down the pier. The crewmen on the docks have dropped whatever was being unloaded in massive crates and are trying to make it back on board in time.

    “None of them get away!” Roaring in vain, I’m helpless to watch billhooks push the vessel away from the docks.

    Only a dozen men are left behind and most of them try swimming after the fleeing ship before it’s sails raise. Shitwhere are they going?

    Dread fills my bones as Pepper Anne reaches the end of the empty dock. Two of the faster swimmers manage to grab onto thrown ropes but the rest are left treading water in Shipbreaker bay as the wind billows the mustard yellow sails.

    “Get them alive!” We need answers and fast.

    Looks like I’m going to find out how good I am at interrogation. I won’t command someone if I’m not willing to do it myself. That’s just a great way to turn my friends against me.

    “Chain the captives on the beach, everyone else in the courtyard get onto the ‘Salty Rack’.” We need to isolate anyone who could have possibly been exposed and only move them to a second ship for a few more days to make sure.

    “Anyone who shows symptoms gets to join us and anyone with them goes on the wait-and-see boat. Hope none of you get seasick, because we’re spending at least a few weeks in the bay.” The crowd starts to panic and I know that needs to be stopped now. “We don’t know who has been exposed yet, so this is only a precaution. One we are all going to face to face as a group.”

    “What do you mean by us?” Barristan and some of the guards from the gatehouse have joined us and he doesn’t look happy by my claim in the slightest.

    Shame fills me as I realize why I was so absent minded. “We’ve all been exposed, none of us get special treatment. The disease won’t give a damn what our name is.”

    “I’m going to need you to keep the courtyard on lock down even after Renly returns. He cannot enter until all the rock has been exposed to fire.” I don’t care if my knowledge is questioned, lives are at stake. “If any of your men show symptoms…”

    “I know.”

    Good, now it’s time to deal with the swim team. “I need to know where that ship is going and if it had any friends. Once I know that, I’ll find out who they’re working for.” My voice is devoid of emotion as I dismount and walk towards the captives being forced to kneel on the beach.

    “We have people trained for that Viserys,” Barristan sounds worried.

    “We have enough captives, they can confirm any answers I get.” Stopping before the nine soaking men with a venom laced scowl, I point to three at random. “I’m only going to need these ones. Take the rest far enough away they aren’t distracted by the screaming.” Okay… that last one worried me a little bit. Sounded a little bit to much like Viserys.

    He gives me a very disappointed look but does eventually take five of the captives away. Once I’m with a handful of guards and three shackled me, I give them a single chance to do this nicely.

    “I’m only going to ask once. So you had all better remember the questions really good.” I hiss the words and begin pacing back and forth. “Who are you working for, what infection did you bring, where is your ship heading next, and was it alone?”

    “Four simple questions I need answered and I have three of you to provide them.” I close my eyes and exhale slowly. “So would you like to die painlessly, or do you want it to come only after I’m bored of hearing you scream?”

    “You don’t have the ba-” One captive with a split lip tries to back talk me, but his taunt is cut off when I yank on the chain around his neck.

    I let him gag for a few seconds before giving the chain some slack. “That was not an answer to any of my questions. You’re allowed to answer or scream… that is all.”

    Turning to my shocked guards who are seeing a very buried side of my, I give them a grim command. “Dig three holes and bury them all in a line. Only leave the heads exposed and facing away from the water.” I want them to hear the waves getting closer and feel that salty water lap against the back of their necks.

    The first one to give me an answer goes to the Wall and the second one dies how he chooses.” I turn back with no reaction to my three captives horror. “Last one to talk… better make peace with the Drowned God.”​
     
  24. Threadmarks: Chapter 24: Responding In Force
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 24: Responding In Force
    Tyrion Lannister

    Don’t show weakness, remind them what only a few hours did to Storm’s End, and if that doesn’t work… ask what they would have done and tear apart the idiocy. Father’s raven was actually approving of my decision to burn the Pentoshi ship before it even docked and he gave me advice for handling the King and his Hand’s arrival.

    As King Robert Baratheon descends the ramp towards me with a scowling Prince Stannis beside him, I swallow my nerves in the face of unexpected fury on full display. Lord Manderly and Uncle Gerion are the ones to follow behind his pair of kingsguard, confusing me with Lord Arryn’s absence.

    “You better have your vassals raising sails Lord Tyrion!” Bellows the armored King, his extra bulk still contained behind his impressive black plate. “I won’t tolerate these attempts on my family.” He comes to a stop before me and even on a my stallion he towers over me.

    “Seventy four ships are being pulled from regular shipping lanes and will be here within the week your Grace.” With just enough left to keep Dragonstone and my bannermen safe. “Is Lord Arryn gathering your Crownland forces?”

    King Robert’s face turns plum purple with rage. “He has returned to the Vale to put down his mountain clan bastards. No more mercy for them anymore, they took the wrong girl this time.”

    “My agents have been able to link what at first seemed like only unconnected oddities.” Chimes in the Master of Whispers with eyes twinkling even behind his pudgy scowl. At least it’s no secret who showed our King and Queen the joys of feasting.

    “The Ironborn haven’t been falling apart under Quellon’s command like it first seemed.” Gerion decides to fill me in before my floundering is noticed by anyone else. “The raids on Skagos and the Three Sisters had only been a cover for Victarion and Urrigen to install themselves in secret.”

    The only man I know of still wider than the King continues with a scowl at my favorite family member. “Doran has finally decided to share the knowledge of Euron arriving in the Stepstones over a year ago.”

    “Ned’s sent word of Wildings swarming across the North and is going to handle the Northern front, while Lord Hoster handles the Three Sisters.” With Lord Arryn taking care of his own uprising, this is leaving our invasion force far smaller than I had expected. “We’ll sail South and meet the Stormland forces at Griffin’s Roost. Renly’s really been showing himself a real Baratheon lately, eh Stannis?”

    Stannis frowns when his brother claps him on the back a little to enthusiastically, but something in his eyes tells me the public action was appreciated. “Renly is ruling from the captured castle for now… maybe he’d like having one he conquered himself more than that heap of rubble.”

    “Good idea. He’ll be close enough to smooth over your gruffness and you can make sure the Stormlander knights aren’t dressed fancier than our ladies.” Laughs Robert heartily before his smile shifts to one of chagrin. “Maybe Lyanna and I should just run away with the kids and leave you in charge.”

    “We’ll meet with the Dornish fleet and scour the Stepstones, I even managed to snag Lord Clegane from Hoster for this attack… his raven was quite happy to loan me the Mountain.” The King frowns for a second in confusion, only to shake it away when he doesn’t find an easy answer. “His loss.”

    Gerion finally explains my Father’s absence from the group with a casual smirk on his face. “Tywin was sent to rally the Westerlands and the Reach, they’re going to deal with the Ironborn while we handle the pirates.”

    “Once my borders are secured, we find out exactly how involved Pentos as a whole was in this insurrection!” Bellows Robert, his face now a far more reasonable shade of cherry red.

    “The increase in ship production isn’t a sign of innocence.” Advises the large Lord Wyman, his thick blonde mustache hiding what shape his mouth takes. “I’ll know whether it’s the city as a whole on only a few wealthy backers by the time you finish bashing heads in.”

    “Rhaenys and Aegon have been taken by the pirates?” I need to know for sure, I can’t lose the only person who makes me feel normal.

    The grim faced confirmation from Uncle Gerion boils my blood. “We’ll get her back Tyrion, she’s too valuable for them to harm.”

    “I got my Lyanna back, we’ll get you your girl.” Agrees King Robert with a look of genuine empathy that startles me. “You just make sure to treat her right and know love takes many forms.”

    That was far more poetic than the rumors that abound say the oaf can be and I have to wonder exactly how involved my father has been in spreading them. He’s running out of time for Cersei to be Queen, she’s already three children away from the throne.

    Or are they just disgruntled loyalists lies and Father is aiming for one of his grandchildren to marry the heir? Cersei and Jaime both have girls in the right age range.




    Margaery Tyrell
    I can see forever up here. With wide eyes I ignore my shaking legs and let Garlan show me his city from the best view. Climbing the countless steps inside the Hightower seemed a horrible idea before we even made it halfway, but this view is just awe inspiring.

    Nothing except the Wall could even come close to this feeling of scale. Smirking as view his city, Garlan swaggers up to one of the windows.

    “I can understand why the Hightowers held out so long when I really take everything in from up here.” How often do you make that climb, or did you just make it part of your daily training?

    “It’s pretty amazing to think the dragon riders saw this all the time.” He hums in agreement and gives me as long as I need to catch my breath.

    The sparkling blue water of the Whispering Sound bay contrasts beautifully against the black marble arches of the Starry Sept. Dozens of ships flow in and out of the various harbors and I let the smell of the sea fill my nose.

    “You had better be careful against the Ironborn.” I don’t want another brother crippled. “Grandmother is going to plenty of effort in finding you a suitable bride.”

    “She needn’t bother, I’m going to be a Lord in my own right soon.” His dimpled smiled becomes a wrinkle inducing scowl. “I’ll be marrying who I choose and when.” If only it was that simple dear brother.

    “Father’s working on making Loras seem a good match for Princess Jennelyn,” I remind him we’re all facing the same pressure. “And my own intended has just become unavailable.” It really only leaves you for Grandmother to focus on at the moment.

    He snorts and watches his navy assembling at last. “I doubt she still wants to tie me to the Greyjoy girl after the sackings, so do me a favor while I’m showing the Ironborn how to fight. Talk up your friend Leonette as a good choice for me and make it seem like your idea.”

    “It was my idea,” I reveal to his confused denial. “Who invited her for weekly rides and got you to chaperon each time?”

    “But I was the one who asked for the honor.” He stubbornly insists and I feel a little bad for trampling his masculine pride. “You’re the one who kept complaining about my presence!”

    “Didn’t that make insist on joining us each week?” flushing in realization, Garlan can only hang his head and sigh.
    Th
    “You take after Grandmother far too much, I thought Tyrion’s schemes to be the ones I needed to keep ahead of.” The snort I let out makes us collapse in laughter over the memory of Tyrion’s visit on Garlan’s last nameday. “How did he get so much soup above Father? It was all still warm and everything.”

    Blonde ringlets dance along his shoulders with each laugh and I allow myself to forget his departure tonight… at least until Garlan decides to ruin the good mood. “The Ironborn are working with pirates, savages, and the last dregs of desperate loyalists. This is going to be over faster than the Rebellion was.”

    His bravado makes a worm of dread burrow into my gut and wriggle itself about wildly. “Just promise you’ll be careful, I have a bad feeling about this.”

    I don’t know what else could be planned, but all of this is still only an annoyance to a united Realm. Something more has to be coming and so far the Reach and Riverlands are the only two that haven’t faced an attempt.






    Notes: One of the only things I’m using from the show is Margaery’s age. She’s born in 283 in the books, I’m going with the show’s 279.​
     
  25. Threadmarks: Chapter 25: You’ll Thank Us One Day
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 25: You’ll Thank Us One Day
    Rhaenys Martell

    Uncle Doran can’t know about this I realize as soon as we’re lead inside the wooden keep. The cocky face of Uncle Oberyn doesn’t bring me the usual joy and I back away from his attempt to hug me.

    “Is that anyway to greet me after saving you?” He rolls his eyes at the other man in the room, a very stern faced knight in armor beginning to show signs of rust.

    “What happened to Arianne!” Spitting each word with indignation, I watch carefully for his reaction.

    “Arianne fell overboard in he storm, it was a tragic accident.” The grief doesn’t sound faked but how can I be sure? “Didn’t Ser Arthur explain this to you?” He growls at my escort who just accepts the scolding with no argument. “Or is this another thing he failed at?

    “I don’t believe you.” If she really did fall overboard, we didn’t even try looking for her.

    Ellaria Sand blurts out when the three men seem content to exchange intense looks. “If you don’t want her fighting you every step of the way, maybe you should just tell her about her role.”

    “Right as always my love,” My least favorite uncle takes his paramour's hand and presses a kiss to he back of it. What I once thought of as sweet and romantic, now only fills me with anger. It took years to arrange, but I’ve finally managed to undo Viserys’ insult to you.”

    “How can you just pretend everything is fine? Arianne is gone and I have no idea where Hightower took the boys!” He lets me rant until I’m panting for breath and Ellaria is holding back giggles with a hand. If Uncle Doran doesn’t kill you for this… Mother will.”

    “Doran let our brother die and was going to just give you both away!” Oberyn fires back with his own pent up rage. “Elia was fine watching Rhaella be handed off the Tully and is fine watching you be given to the Imp?” His voice is filled with passion as he vibrates in place. “Well I am not okay watching my family be disgraced!”

    Once my Uncles words become a string of curses, Ellaria hushes him with a stern look. “We did something about it. You’ll appreciate it one day.”

    “How is this any less confusing for the Princess?” The grouchy knight with short sandy blonde hair barks out and rolls his eyes at the fiery temper. “It is finally time for your brother to reclaim the throne, but for that we needed allies.”

    Grimacing at the man’s gruff attitude, Ellaria tries to settle my rising temper. “Aegon will be betrothed once our final ally proves themselves, but your hand provides him an army now. Daemon will be a far more pleasing match and he comes with his own gold.”

    I don’t want to marry Tyrion because he has gold or Viserys said I had to. He makes me feel special with every letter sent and that is why I’m going to marry him. Even Viserys didn’t ask what I wanted… none of you are.

    “It’s such a shame three of our brothers have betrayed the true King, but Whent will ensure we recover the last of the hostages.” Arthur adds with his own attempt to calm me. “You can finally see your grandmother again and meet your aunt Danaerys.”

    “But what about Viserys?” You haven’t said anything about rescuing him.

    “He and the Imp have already been dealt with.” With finality Oberyn answers with stomach churning pride on his face.




    Arianne Martell
    With nothing to do but talk and try to fish, it’s near impossible to keep the dread at bay. Eleven people have already begun showing symptoms of Grayscale and have been moved to a second ship for the confirmed cases.

    The clothes given to me by Lady Ashara are more restrictive than I prefer, but at least Viserys can hold a conversation when facing me now. For someone called the Dirty Dragon, he really doesn’t live up to the reputation.

    A creak of the wood behind me has me turn to find him approaching with an embarrassed grin on his face. “I had Sandor get a few of my things from the castle before I sent him to Riverrun…” He reveals a bundle of thin sticks and folded cloth of high quality indigo.

    “Renly decided to give you his kite since we haven’t used them in years.” Viserys looks exactly like Quentyn does when I catch him playing with his stone soldiers. “Do you know how to fly one?” I do but Elia taught me well.

    Men like to think themselves in control and an easy way to give them that illusion, is to let them ‘teach’ you something they believe themselves gifted at. “No, but I’ve always wanted to try. Could you show me how?”

    “Of course I can.” His ecstatic smile fills me with bubbles of warmth. “You really don’t think it’s silly?” I allow him to guide my hands in the assembly of Renly’s black and yellow one with a reassuring smile.

    The look of vulnerability only flickers in his eyes for a moment but that’s all I need to stop thinking so much. I don’t think he’s ever even been smiled at by a girl before, I don’t need all the fancy tactics.

    “I was worried you took after your father, a little silliness is a welcome surprise.” We both blush, but he refuses to look up and mine is gone long before he recovers.

    “I can’t even remember what he looked like,” He admits softly and takes a seat beside me with only a slight bit of hesitation this time. “Anytime I try… all I can think of are his claws and the screaming. I don’t want to be anything like him, but how I got answers is exactly what he would have done.”

    “It was nicer than what my Father would have done.” He blinks at my growled words and I take the chance to make my support for him clear. “And I keep hearing you getting compared to Prince Stannis, so I don’t think anyone believes it was anything but necessary.” And if they do, they better not say it around me.

    A smile slowly grows on his face and his cheeks flare red again. “Thanks… I really needed to hear that.”

    “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ll always be Rhaenys’ hero and I can finally see why she ignored every lie Oberyn tried to fill her head with.”

    “I don’t know how courting is done in the Stormlands,”

    “Neither do I,” He chuckles in response and I join him with no hesitation. I even manage to forget the reason I’m trapped on a boat for most of an hour, just enjoying my time with a very awkward Viserys.

    “Well in Dorne we don’t waste time wondering, we make our intent clear to avoid any… misunderstandings.” He pulls his arm away in misguided concern that brings yet another smile to my lips. “I’m interested in you romantically.”

    He freezes in place aside from his eyes nearly bursting from his skull. “You do?” The corners of his mouth turn up as the realization sinks in. “That’s really…” His hands start to flail as if that will somehow pluck the perfect word from the wind. “Incredible.”

    Of course when I lean closer we get interrupted by an awkward cough. The teasing grin on Marya Seaworth’s face lets me breathe out in relief.

    “Sorry for interrupting, but supper’s ready so you two better hurry inside.” She clicks her tongue in annoyance. “My boys have better manners than the whole lot of them. Barristan won’t be able to keep your bowls safe for much longer.”

    “Thanks Ma...rya,” Viserys stumbles over his words with an awkward expression that shifts to concern. “Uh, you have something on your cheek.” As soon as his finger points I see the speck of grey on Marya’s cheek with dread.

    She sighs and pulls up her sleeve with a larger patch of infected skin. “Barristan saw it too. I was just hoping you wouldn’t notice until I was on the other ship.”

    Maester Cressen said no one can return to land until we go two weeks with no new cases appearing, but so far we haven’t even been able to go two whole days without one. I don’t think any of us are getting off this boat alive.

    The dark thought is hard to shake but I force it out of my head with a determined snarl. Martells do not give up.

    “Just make sure Dale stays clear of the wrong girls once I’m gone.” She smiles sadly with a trail of tears streaking down her cheek. “And remind Matthos to eat his greens, you know how much he hates them.”

    Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Marya takes a steadying breath. “It was really nice meeting you Arianne, but I really hope we don’t see each other again. Now go and send Barristan out please… before I lose my nerve and need to be carried.”​
     
  26. Threadmarks: Chapter 26: Finding Oneself
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 26: Finding Oneself
    Renly Baratheon

    All of this began after I insisted on going to Summerhall first. It can’t be a coincidence that all of this only started once a Baratheon tried to take the Last Dragon’s final piece of land. I knew the land was cursed… this is all my fault.

    Griffin’s Roost is made of a lighter shade of granite than my family home and the more open construction lets sunlight filter in with welcome warmth. Once we’ve gone two weeks with no more new cases, the Grayscale ship will sail for the Sorrows. It’s a certainty I dread, knowing how likely it is that Viserys will be on board when it leaves. I need all the warmth I can get right now.

    You better not get sick, I’m not dealing with this mess by myself. The two eggs entrusted to me are for Aegon and Rhaenys when they are rescued, but Sandor took a bundle with him on his roundabout way home.

    “How many men are assembled so far?” I ask Lester pointlessly, already having the answer engrained in my skull. “My brothers will be here soon and they aren’t going to be happy with our muster speed.”

    “Just shy of four thousand, but the settlements along the Sea of Dorne are facing an increase in both banditry and pirate activity.” He licks his lips when a pair of laundry maids scurry in to grab the beware and curtains still in Connington colors. “You’ll be lucky to get a full ten thousand in time.”

    Viserys would have warned them to be on guard instead of letting scores of bannermen get ambushed on the march. “That will have to be enough for Stannis.”

    “Even the Riverlands are facing brigands with equipment of far to high a quality according to Rhaella’s letter for Viserys.” Was really awkward yelling her words up to him from the rowboat and writing down his goodbye response, but at least he seems to be keeping high spirits somehow.

    Of course all he needed to smile again was a pretty girl… why did I think he’d ever look at me like that. Cersei’s been right about me since day one. I’m just Renly the Reject compared to the Demon of the Trident and Stannis the Stalwart.

    “It might sound like a waste of men, but I’m really not liking how the Reach is still untouched. I want half our remaining forces in the Marches once Stannis gets his ten thousand.” It’s not what my brothers would do but I’ve never been more than a mediocre replica of them.

    If Viserys couldn’t notice me when I tried, the world won’t be any nicer. I need to show the world who Renly Baratheon is and stop showing them a shadow of the more impressive brothers.

    “It’s like every place we overlook is getting hammered away at and I want to make sure we have an anvil ready for the next blow coming for the Stormlands.” It was both the most terrifying and exhilerating time of my life at Summerhall.

    The smallfolk only fought because I convinced them we could win, my name did nothing but anger them for their capture in the first place. Robert’s great at rallying warriors and Stannis instills discipline but I can make people believe in themselves in a way not even Viserys can.

    Viserys doesn’t know how to delegate, he can only lead by example. I respect his dedication, but he’s ignoring how much more he could accomplish with only his words. Though Stannis will be proud of how fast his captives squealed without a single drop of blood being shed… I really didn’t think Viserys could look so angry.

    The guards have stopped mocking him at least in range of my own hearing, so I know his fast action made an impression on more than just my friends. I should be able to get more than enough volunteers to help me out.

    “And the other half?” Lester manages to tear his gaze from the girls and scowls at my command. “You’re spreading us pretty thin.”

    “Split between Shipbreaker Bay and the Sea of Dorne.” Ten thousand with Stannis and that many again on in the Marches means we have only about five thousand left for each coastline.

    “We can’t afford to have our borders penetrated or we’re in for another siege.” Be as vicious as Viserys, and stubborn as Stannis… I’ve already found Robert’s rage and now I just need to blend them into something Renly shaped. “Recruit the local smallfolk and trap any places that we can’t hold with limited numbers. Make anyone who tries bleed for every damn inch of our land.”

    “You’re far too tolerant with the smallfolk, they shouldn’t be free to petition us with such lies.” Cersei is already in my new castle’s solar with a scowl I’ve long come to associate with her ready for me. “Some scarlet woman claimed to have a way to cleanse Storm’s End… nearly had her flogged when she started talking about some promised prince and her tongue removed before she scurried away.”

    Holding in a sigh I instead take a calming breath. “I don’t have my brothers’ reputations, I need my iron fist to be wrapped in velvet.” One of Viserys’ strange phrases that stuck in my is perfect for this situation and I enjoy the silence brought on by it… however short it is.

    “… Ashara and her children should have reached the Boneway by now.” She ends up changing the subject as fast as her mood, which becomes incredibly melancholy. “Joffrey’s going to be so lonely now that his friend is gone. You need to spend more time with your nephew… Viserys’s absence has been noticed and you will have to do for now.”

    “The Seaworths are parent less right now, you could always let Joffrey play with them.” She looks aghast at the idea and I can only be glad it was Stannis, not I married off for an alliance.

    “I will miss Marya’s service but not matter what Stannis says… they are still from Fleabottom.” Shaking her head with obvious disgust makes my own expression harden. “Our families are not meant to mingle, if only Viserys would realize this himself.”

    Ignoring her families strange obsession with my Cousin is getting harder as the years go on but until Viserys complains I can only watch the shipwreck in slow motion. “I’ll let Joffrey help me dress the straw soldiers.” Without Viserys around I can finally admit how good of an idea it was and am going to rain my own men with similar methods.

    “I’ve got lot’s of spare Connington uniforms I need to get rid of.” No one is keen on wearing them, so I can at least get some use out of them this way. “And Joffrey likes his war games still, doesn’t he?”

    Viserys has the blacksmith’s apprentice making little tin figures for my nephew with any spare scraps. At first it was only vaguely recognizable lumps of metal, but I do have to admit the boy may have some real talent as a jeweler.

    A few dozen knights with lances have been painted in both Baratheon and Lannister colors, with almost three times as many on foot. Some strange monsters of make believe give the boy a way for his forces to work together… but Joffrey seems far more excited simply smashing the knights against each other.

    Shireen is as quiet as Cressen says Stannis was as a babe, is the third child going to be as overlooked as I was? No. Firmly I make up my mind in the moment and promise to make sure any of my overlooked family know I love them.

    “Just keep Patchface away from him. I don’t want Joffrey repeating anymore of his nonsense.” I’m not very fond of the fool’s sense of humor either, but Stannis can’t let go of Father’s last gift. Patchface will have a home at Storm’s End for as long as my brother’s heart beats.

    “I’ll try, but you know how good he is at finding places to hide.” He seems to have already found four secret stairways leading to cramped and barren cells. “Pathface will find us if he wants to, you’re the only one he actually voids.” Who knows what other passages he hasn’t been decided share still remain locked in his empty head.

    “Small mercies.” Mutters the very pregnant Cersei and I have to wonder if she’ll give birth before Stannis even arrives. I think even he would like that kind of surprise, haven’t seen him smile since Shireen opened her her bright blue eyes.

     
  27. Threadmarks: Chapter 27: Stone Dragon
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 27: Stone Dragon
    Sandor Houndsworth

    The first day after I bid Lady Ashara and her escort farewell is filled with a strange tension, as if several someones are watching me and Titan. When he finds nothing but a few coyotes my tension eases somewhat but of course my cargo is too vital to truly relax, forcing me to go wide around Blackhaven.

    Sleeping in the woods all the way to Riverrun… sounds like a great fortnight of travel. When I find a decently flat section of hill with a good view of the trail, I decide it’s close enough to dark for me to start a fire.

    I make sure to check for signs of any predators, but only find a few nuggets belonging to the rat-dogs. The wood I do find is wet like everything in this Kingdom and pine like the Dornish Marches are known for.

    Great, I love having my meat smoked. Despite my annoyance at how much smoke will be made, I do grab enough to keep a small flame going most of the night.

    Even after being thrown his slab of beef, Titan won’t stop whining into the shadows growing around us. “Knock it off. You couldn’t find anything but coyotes and I know you aren’t scared of those runts.”

    “Fine. You can have first watch if it’s such a big deal.” The look in the eyes peering through the mass of black curls makes me once again question if my dog is smarter Patchface. “Stop looking at me like that, I don’t have any cookies for you.” And Viserys isn’t going to be around to give the recipe to my cooks… probably should have gotten that before I left.

    Only reason I’m taking such a damned long way home is this is your last request. I just wanted to go straight to the Blanetree lands but no, you need me to play delivery boy.

    Of course that’s the exact moment a branch snaps in the distance and I hear a faint voice curse angrily. Grumbling under my breath I slide my sword silently from the oiled sheath.

    “Let’s go say hello to our stalkers.” Titan barks his approval and darts away towards the voice. His pony sized body nearly vanishes only a few paces from the fire and I grin at the shock he’s going to give.

    Soon the sound of barking announces the stalker has been found and the high pitched scream makes me worried I’ve made a mistake. I dash towards what I hope isn’t going to be a grisly misunderstanding and grow confused by the calls of ‘It’s me!’.

    Bursting onto the scene shows Titan pinning a lone figure beneath his massive body, oddly though the boy is laughing and not dying. “Titan get off, it’s me!”

    “Heel.” Titan backs off instantly and trots back to my side with only a slight whine at having his fun ended. The slobber faced Duncan Selmy is on his back and grows pale when I show him how disappointed I am with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

    “I’m not going to be shuffled off to Starfall for another decade of no answers.” He returns my scowl with one of his own and crosses his arm to show he really means business. “I waited a few hours and followed you .”

    “Why does everyone insist on wasting my time?” My growl is filled with tension and I really hope Zhoe doesn’t want children immediately. “You do know I’m just going to bring you back in the morning.”

    Maybe I won’t have any until I get brain damage and forget how annoying you brats really are. Viserys is the only one I never wanted to strangle more than a full grown man… really going to miss him and Barristan.

    “No, you’re going to bring me with you.” Duncan’s confidence makes me chuckle but he’s still a few years off from being able to force me to do anything. Scary thing is I know it’s not if, but when he’s good enough to do it.

    “Oh? And why do you think that is?”

    “Because you already lost one egg and I only found it with the coyotes help.” His cocky smirk is proven just when he indeed pulls out a milky white egg covered in black splotches. “And about that… I made some friends. Can I keep them?”

    My confusion is clarified quickly as six, seven, nine. No… that’s twelve coyotes surrounding us.

    I tense as I realize every single pair of eyes is locked on me for a reaction. “Are they going to let me take you without a fight?”

    “Probably not and I’d really like it if my friends didn’t hurt each other.” For a boy of such a young age, he has far too much sadness in his eyes. “I don’t have very many left.”

    “Neither do I Duncan and it only gets worse as you get older.” He doesn’t like the truth based on his lips shifting into a frown.

    “That sucks.”

    I laugh at his blunt answer and nod. “It does, that’s why we fight so hard for the ones we still have.”

    “So you wont make me run away again and find my own way North?” His smirk is back and I know I’ve been had by yet another child.

    How old do kids need to be before you can ward them out? I’ll rip all my hair out before I manage to raise even a single one to adulthood… and I kind of need that to cover my scars.

    “I’ll take you as far as Riverrun, but only if you had enough sense in that empty head of yours to leave a note for Lady Ashara.” I’m not dealing with accusations of kidnapping.

    “Of course,” His quick answer makes a feeling of dread settle on my skin. “I told Vorian you asked me to be your squire.”

    “We’re leaving now!” I grab him by the collar and bark a command at his new… friends. “His mother will skin each and every one of us for stealing her baby, we’re all in this together now.” I’m going to need as many bodies between me and Ashara as I can get once she finds me.




    Viserys Targaryen
    Arianne giggles when I finish my daily – sometimes twice – inspection of her body and move to massaging her knotted back. “You’re still clean.” And I feel dirtier than ever up here in our crows nest.

    “You really don’t want any land?” She’s having a hard time believing me repeated claims and decides to use her state of undress to loosen my lips. Though I consider it an improvement in our rapidly progressing relationship I’m even aware of that and not just a drooling mess.

    A month in such close quarters feels like watching ‘Big Brother’ back in my first life. A few have gone crazy and needed to be… evicted. The sounds from below deck let me know Arianne and I, aren’t the only ones desperate for any kind of hope.

    “I’ve already been King and you know what I found out?” Leaning forward I whisper the words in her ear and smile when she shivers ever so slightly. “The throne makes people CRAZY!” I yell the last word into the sky so I don’t deafen Arianne and laugh when she rolls me off of her.

    “Be serious with me.” She’s not being flirty and I relent with a sigh.

    “Sorry… I just really don’t want that kind of responsibility again. I had half a million lives in my hand and one wrong move would have killed us all.” A ship’s crew is all the responsibility for others lives I want to take on.

    “You wouldn’t have any responsibility accept that which I gave you… if you came with me to Dorne that is.” My heart skips a beat in shock, because even my dense head could understand such an offer. “Renly could even come for a visit. If what you say about him is even partially true, he’d find Dorne far more welcoming.”

    I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but we ran out of safe things to talk about by the second week… and what can I say, she’s pretty darn persuasive when she wants to be. “How many warships does your family have?” How many lives am I going to be responsible for?

    “Twenty five that fly the Martell sails normally and nearly sixty in times of war.” That’s actually not to bad… not even five thousand sailors outside of something like a Realm wide conflict and they all chose a violent life. “Now lay down, it’s time to check you for Shalescale.”

    “You know that’s not it’s name.” I roll my eyes but do as instructed. This moment right now is all I’ve ever wanted from life.

    “It’s less confusing than half a dozen diseases all being called Gray-something.” She teases me and starts to drag her nails against my skin. “I’m the Princess here, since you decided to give up on having any title… I kind of make the decisions on this boat and I say it’s called Shalescale.”

    I realize I haven’t felt her touch since she finished with my upper back. “Are you done already?”

    “What do you mean? I’m tracing my name on your left ass cheek right now.”

    “… You should probably stop and I should get dressed.” I realize I’m today's lucky winner and push Arianne away when she hesitates. “I just want you to know this was the best time of my life and I’m never going to forget you.”

    She doesn’t answer with words, only gut wrenching sobs that douse any fire left in my heart. I’m not getting anything but sorrow from now on and I can only hope this ends with me.

    “I’ll still play for you every night until you can go back on land.” I show her my flute and carefully wrap it in cloth. “It sounds wrong, but I really hope this is the last time we’re near enough to touch. I’m already losing the will to stop myself from kissing you goodbye.”

     
  28. Threadmarks: Chapter 28: Someone’s Not Very Loyal
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 28: Someone’s Not Very Loyal
    Tyrion Lannister

    Prince Renly freezes when Robert lifts him right off his feet in the middle of the courtyard, not even waiting for our host to finish his introduction. “Finally showed the world your thunder and lightning little brother!” Booms the King with ecstatic pride. “Was worried when Stannis said you had practically given up with the sword, but you just needed a more Baratheon weapon in your hands.”

    “Uh… thanks?” The nearly six foot teen still looks like a child in his brother’s arms, but Robert is quick to drop him back to his feet.

    “Silveraxe was a tough son of a bitch, you should feel proud for such a worthy first kill.” It’s just like me and Jaime. Seeing Stannis grit his teeth in annoyance beside them just makes me glad Cersei isn’t out here to greet us.

    “I pray my sister’s absence is not cause for alarm?” Maybe celebration though?

    Stannis grumbles something under his breath but Renly’s answer is the one I focus on. “She’s almost ready to pop and terrorizing any maid with the spine to enter her chambers.”

    “Are you mass producing smoked fish now?” Ser Seaworth mentions the scores of little smoke lodges dotting the shoreline. “Trying to feed the whole army yourself?”

    “Viserys and Cressen realized damp and cold is what Grayscale needs to spread,” Explains a now furious looking Renly. “Viserys’ last command before isolating everyone was to have these things called ‘saunas’ built. They’re kind of like the Northern sweat lodges but he said the Ibbenese use these instead.”

    “Do they work?” Of course that’s all the Master of Law cares about. Or so I think, but when I notice his shaking hands I reconsider that assessment.

    Renly shrugs unhelpfully. “Haven’t had to put anyone else on the boats with them and everyone seems to like the mandatory sessions each day. Cressen says it’s not treatment or any kind of cure, but something he’s calling preventative measures.”

    “The smallfolk are calling them Dragon-baths.” The teen in Morrigen colors blurts out and winces in fear of Robert’s reaction.

    “I still dream of caving in his brother’s ribcage some nights and Aerys got better than he deserved...” Strangely the King sounds defeated instead of wroth. “But maybe we should have just let the boy keep the damn crown.”

    He let’s out a few bitter chuckles before shaking away the dark look in his eyes. “I’ll make sure Barristan knights him for this before we set off. Let Viserys be remembered for what he did and not have his families insanity taint his legacy… he’s earned that at least.”

    “We got word this morning from a minor Vale Lord.” Renly changes the subject towards the reason my fleet has been assembled. “Lord Petyr Baelish from the Fingers, has reported his men have rescued Mya from the Howlers. He’s keeping her safe until Lord Arryn can finish subduing the savages.”

    “Jon better be doubling this Petyr’s holdings for this.” Cheers the King with enough volume I’m not alone in covering my ears. “It’s about damn time we got some good news.”

    That comment makes Renly and the Morrigen man exchange worried looks before Renly finally ruins his brother’s good mood. “That’s about all the good news we do have. Lord Baelish also has confirmation of them working with the rest of these not so random uprisings going on everywhere.”

    “The Vale clans are waiting for reinforcements from Pentos. The Golden Company, Second Sons, and Oberyn Martell’s own sellsword company – the Red Spears – are all set to make land on our Eastern shores.” Renly manages to get it all out with confidence. “I’ve already sent orders to ready the Stormlands, but Crackclaw and the Saltpans are nearly devoid of soldiers.”

    Shit… most of the Crownland garrisons have been emptied. Maybe five thousand men outside of King’s Landing and the city watch is all that we left behind.

    “I’m leaving the Stepstones to you Stannis.” Robert’s declaration shocks anyone who has even an inkling of the brother’s frosty relationship. “I’m taking the Crownland forces back with me and you’ll need to link your Stormlanders here up with Dorne’s.”

    “Tywin and Lyanna will have to hold down the Capital until we shore up our defenses.” He pauses to give attention to his youngest brother again. “Good thinking on the defenses, I shouldn’t have been thinking of this like my own rebellion… I’m in Aerys’ chair now.”

    “I’m leaving you in charge of the continued defenses here, Lords Jaime and Mace will just have to subdue the Ironborn without you.” Robert snorts and turns down to me with a smirk. “Tywin still wants a Valyrian steel sword, doesn’t he? I know of at least two Jaime has my permission to claim.”

    Sighing with the crushing weight of either responsibility or his bulk, Robert finishes outlining the current plan of counter attack. “Ned will need to deal with the Wildlings on his own for now. He says the cowards won’t sit still and fight him like real men, it’s going to take years to find each band if they stay scattered.”

    “As long as the Tully forces can hold out, you should still have the advantage in numbers.” Adds Stannis with a calculating look at his older brother. “You’re better off going back to King’s Landing and giving Tywin command of the army.”

    “And let his men ‘save’ the Riverlands the same way they ‘saved’ King’s Landing?” Robert shoots back with a firm growl. “He’ll defend the city because he knows his life is just as much at stake, but he’ll be free to switch sides if he’s got my army.”

    I want to be offended but I know that my Father waited until the last possible second to choose a side in Robert’s Rebellion. “You’ve never actually personally offended him as far as I’m aware and you’ve made sure our family is given the respect he feels we’re due.” I’m not going to make any false promises, but it doesn’t seem like Father would have anything to gain by changing sides.

    “Lord Tyrion can be your second in the Stepstones and his uncle can make sure I don’t get my ships lost.” The King gives me a look of conflicted sympathy and I realize he’s giving me the chance kept from him. “Take Lord Clegane with you for muscle, he should remember how to follow a Lannister’s commands as well as his King’s.”

    I get to save Rhaenys myself. “Your Grace, thank you.” The thought blossoms in my head and my palms grow sweaty as I resolutely ignore the possibility of failure.

    “Thank me be smashing these bastards heads in.” His face grows dark like a storm cloud. “Only some quick action kept this same sickness from the Crownlands and contained to the initial outbreak at Storm’s End. We aren’t giving anyone who helped plan this madness any damn mercy!”

    I find it hard to have issue with such a command, knowing how close I was to joining Viserys on his trip to Essos. “The block or the Wall?”

    “Normally I’d say all of them get the block, but it looks like we’re going to be needing to shore up the Watch once this insurrection is handled. Wildlings are more than just a nuisance… I’d call them a down right blight on civilized folk.”

    “You’re showing restraint?” Smirks Stannis. “Lord Arryn will be so proud it only took twenty years.”

    The King freezes for a moment and I see several emotions flicker in his foggy blue eyes. “Did you just tell a joke? And a damn good one at that?” It seems he decided to go with amused shock.

    “I think this is just the first one you’ve been clear headed enough to understand. Though I shudder to think of how hung over your wife will be… drinking all that wine alone would kill even Thoros.” The corners of Stannis lips curl up ever so slightly and I almost mistake his expression for a smile.

    “No it wouldn’t!” Corrects the red face priest. “Those two are light weights and don’t touch any of the strong stuff.”




    Garlan Tyrell
    I ‘let’ Father and Grandmother go inside the Rock to speak with Lord Jaime and test myself against his guards while I wait instead. Most are as good or better than Father’s own garrison, but that really only seems to be true with the personal guard.

    Blocking the first blunted blade is easy and it’s just as simple to swat away the second knights own weapon. The two men I will only later be told are Hightowers are a different matter and actually work as a team.

    The faster one works on deflecting my attacks, while his larger cousin finds an opening to barrel into be with his full weight. When he doesn’t get off after taking the win, I slam my head backwards and hear one of his teeth crack.

    “Nice work Lord Garlan, I can see how even as a boy you had the skill to fill my shoes.” The words aren’t mocking and I find a smiling man in golden armor behind me, Lynesse Hightower’s arm looped through his own.

    “So you’re the son who took my families home?” She smirks at me and lowers her voice to an eerie whisper. “Have you seen them yet, or have you only heard the screams?” What is she talking about?

    “Stop trying to scare the lad with those children’s tales.” Lord Jaime comes to my defense and rolls his eyes playfully at his wife. “Garlan had nothing to do with Robert’s decision or Mace’s failings. You’d be better off introducing this growing Rose to your cousins and seeing if you can’t replicate the Whent’s good fortune.”

    “Maybe I will…” Lynesse trails off and I feel a shiver of danger. “Thanks darling.” And just like that her mood changes to a pleased grin. “I’m going to go make sure the prettier ones are dressed nice for supper tonight. Don’t tire yourselves out too much, we hired singers and I want to dance.” Is it too late for the big knight to break my foot?

    She pecks her husband on the check and strides towards the castle, which gives me a chance to grin at the legend Viserys bragged so much about. “I was finished with my training, but if you want… I can go another round with such an old man. I’ll even go easy on you.” I know this isn’t like facing the best of my own soldiers, this is one of the few men I know is capable of beating me black and blue.

    “This ‘old man’ may have a few things left to teach you… as long as it’s not getting too late for such a young boy to still be outside.” He grabs a practice sword and tests it’s weight with casual ease, making me dearly regret my bravado.

    “I’m friends with Tyrion!” Jaime smirks at my comment and smiles back warmly.

    “I know and that’s why I’ll be going easy on you. Tyrion says you’ve never called him names.” He snorts at my expression of sudden worry. “Oh come on, this is going to be fun… for me.”​
     
  29. Threadmarks: Chapter 29: Not Very Cooperative
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 29: Not Very Cooperative
    Aegon Martell

    My constant companion since Arianne’s ‘accident’ Ser Gerold, stands just beside me on the prow of the ‘Conquerer’s Vengeance’ as we row away from the Pentos docks. With a solemn expression on his face and a tear stained face of my own, we watch Rhaenys and her captors vanish in the distance.

    Illyrio Mopatis and his Blackfyre son Daemon, better not lay a hand on my sister. If that coward thinks I’ll let this stand… he doesn’t know my family.

    “Don’t be so glum your Grace.” The commander of my ‘kingsguard’ gives me a smile that I’m only now realizing has never reached his eyes. “Your sister’s hand has both given us the Golden Company to go along with Oberyn’s own allies and will finally mend the rift between the red and black dragons.” Did you at least serve my father loyally, or have you always been in this for your own gain?

    “Quentyn will keep her safe, since I know where Dayne’s loyalties truly lay.” He winces at my bitter tone and shakes his head. He struggles to find an answer but hands off the responsibility once someone else joins the conversation.

    “I know all this change is confusing Aegon, but Sers Arthur and Oswell have only ever been loyal to you.” My uncle saunters over with a cocky grin. “We’re finally going to get your Kingdoms back… we just needed to really search for allies and it took far longer than expected. Rhaenys and Daemon will join us once we’ve secured the Realm.”

    Ser Hightower grunts his agreement. “We’ve all had to make sacrifices for this plan to have a chance of success. Just as you will also be expected to do your part and secure our alliance with the Reach.”

    “And what if I don’t want to marry Margaery Tyrell?” If I’m your King, how come you’re the ones deciding everything?

    Of course my arrogant uncle is quick with an answer. “Our allies will be crushed one by one with extreme prejudice, until eventually each of our heads is mounted on a spike outside the Red Keep.”

    “Ser Alliser will be taking the Second Sons into the Riverlands so they can link up with Euron and the Frey’s,” Gerold explains with a quirk of his lip that makes his mustache appear to dance. “The Red Spears and the Reach reinforcements will liberate the Stormlands…”

    He trails off so my uncle can finish with far to much bravado for a man juggling scorpions. “And we can march from Crackclaw to King’s Landing, rallying those still loyal to the cause on our way.”

    “They’re just going to let the Golden Company march inside the city?” I’m a child, not an idiot like you all seem to be. No wonder Viserys was so quick to give away the crown, if this is what he grew up around.

    “Jeremy Rykker managed to hide himself in plain sight,” Explains Jon Connington as he approaches with a half smile that is already shrinking. “He pretended to be his own bastard and this gave us six years to sneak people back in to King’s Landing.”

    Oberyn laughs darkly and I hate a member of my family for the first time in my brief life. “We have nearly a fifth of the Gold Cloaks subverted and will have the Iron Gate and Gate of the Gods opened upon our forces arrival. The King and his Master of Coin have done little to endear the loyalists to his side since his victory.”

    “The traitor Jaime’s son is all we need of him,” Even Gerold seems excited for the bloodshed to come and I can only regret ever looking up to men I never really knew. “He can face his justice in the Iron Islands or back at the Rock when my family strikes.”

    “If Oswell can’t convince Jonothor to comeback to his King, he has an agent already in place to help him spirit away the rest of the Targaryens.” Jon sighs heavily and I realize he’s is the youngest of them all. And he’s ancient… maybe they really can’t wait much longer for this plan.

    Agreeing next is an even older looking Gerold, who has only a head of thinning white hair left. “They’ll be brought to Ser Alliser and then you can reward those who remained faithful. Giving the Whents the Lord Paramountcy seems only just.” And what do you and Arthur want for your own families? Do you expect the Daynes to get Dorne and the Hightowers to keep the Westerlands?

    “I guess you want the Conningtons to regain their Lordship…” Quentyn might hate Uncle Doran’s lessons on strategy, but right now I’m very glad I paid attention. “And maybe a little more?”

    “See, this plan isn’t so hard to follow. We just need to reward those who give us aid in this time of need.” Oberyn smiles at me with pride but I just want to scream bloody murder in his face over this betrayal.

    Growling the other two into silence, Ser Gerold finishes the explanation. “The Ironborn get the seas and the right to raid Essos all they want. Let Balon’s brother have Skagos, the Three Sisters, and the Sttepstones.” How can you be okay with what you know they’ll be doing in my name! “We ignore the change of ruling family in the Vale and let the Starks bend the knee once the dust has settled.”

    “The Usurper and the Imp have taken the royal fleet South,” Oberyn speaks just above a whisper, as if worried someone will hear him even on the Narrow Sea. “Your prize is unguarded and just waiting for you to reclaim it Aegon.”



    Daemon Blackfyre
    Watching the fleet depart brings a combination of conflicting feelings. I’m excited that Father’s promise of ending the hate between my family is finally coming true, but dreading having to actually talk to Rhaenys.

    She clearly was raised on very different tales and has no idea I just want to reconcile our families bloody history. Father keeps warning me how dangerous war is and that if anything should happen to my future goodbrother… my betrothed and I can’t be at odds if we have to rule.

    “If you touch me, Ser Arthur will remove whichever hand you used.” Rhaenys decides to speak first once the ships are gone from sight, her voice tainted with bitter rage I only wish I could soothe. Black and red together at last, no longer will our family need to tear itself apart with needless civil wars.

    “Not unless that touch was meant to hurt you,” To my relief the Sword of the Morning rejects her threat with a firm voice. “His blood still offers him some protection.”

    “Fine… Balerion and I will do it ourselves.” She glares with all the heat of the sun behind her soft amber eyes that glint like topaz in the sun. “So don’t get any stupid ideas.”

    The anger hurts since I’ve been nothing but kind, but I take a deep breath and consider why she’s so angry. Father said her uncle Viserys the Vile was going to marry her off to a deformed man and send Aegon to the Citadel once he was a man grown.

    How come I’m the one getting all of this hate? This should all be a miracle rescue to someone about to endure such an insulting fate as the one Rhaenys was facing.

    “Oberyn says you like music, would you like me to play you a song on my lute when we get home?” Just smile and keep trying, eventually she’ll give me a chance. She just needs to adjust to the sudden shock and have time to grieve for her cousin Arianne.

    “This isn’t my home.” She stubbornly insists even as she climbs into Father’s litter. “My home is Dragonstone.” Her eyes mist slightly for a moment until she shakes her head, clearing away the sad thoughts.

    Wincing again as I follow her inside, I try again to bidge this tension between us. We’re going to have years to work through this misunderstanding, I just need to be patient like Father keeps telling me. “We’ll be going soon, once your brother has reclaimed our families throne.”

    “We aren’t family, you’re just the descendant of some uppity bastards.” I suck in a breath at that insult and feel my own eyes water. “I hope you’re ready to spend the rest of your life sleeping with one eye open.” Ignore it. She’s hurting and I can’t blame her for what she says right now.

    “I’m sorry about Arianne, but I only want us to have a chance at happiness.” I try one final time for today. No use beating my head against a stone wall.

    “I’d be happy if I woke up to you both being dead.” Her eyes are harder than ever since I said her cousin’s name and I realize that’s a subject to avoid tomorrow.​
     
  30. Threadmarks: Chapter 30: I Don't Want To Die
    Flightless Man

    Flightless Man Versed in the lewd.

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    Chapter 30: I Don’t Want To Die
    Viserys Ashtar

    Watching the eight lucky survivors return to shore after nearly two months bobbing in Shipbreaker Bay is tough. On one hand the woman I love is going to live a long and happy life. But on the other hand… I’m going to spend the rest of my life going insane in a miserable swamp.

    Finally know how the Thing feels, at least I might be able to find some stone woman I can grow crazy with. Of the forty one people we isolated the first day, only seven people are cleared to join Arianne in Griffin’s Roost.

    With no one left to worry about I can finally let the gravity of everything sink in and I just have one thought that repeats in my skull. I don’t want to die.

    “It’s not fair!” I was ready to die years ago and now when I finally decided to be happy… everything I’ve worked for turns to ash. “I was good, wasn’t I?” Turning away from the window I collapse in a heap of tears. “I only wanted to keep my family safe and Robert just said I needed to be good.”

    Marya grabs me in her arms and hums, while Barristan just looks awkward as he makes sure no one comes into the captain’s cabin. “You’re someone any mother would be proud of. You saved so many people Viserys.”

    “It wasn’t enough though.” I can barely stop myself from crying again when I think of the missing Martells alone and terrified. “How can you to be so strong right now? You both have lives you’re leaving behind.” Why am I so weak?

    “No one can work miracles,” Whispers the woman I’ve leaned on as a mother for years, her voice somehow both soft and firm at the same time. “But you can far closer than I had ever believed possible.”

    Barristan chooses now to add his own words of emotion filled support. “You should be proud of how willing you had been to save lives, I know I’m honored to spend the rest of my days protecting the only King I’ve considered worthy of wearing the crown.”

    “I wasn’t even King for an entire day,” Sniffling through my sadness, I wipe my face with my sleeve. “Can’t have been a very good one, I didn’t even go down with the ship.”

    I only cared about my own family the entire time, saving the city from wildfire was only a happy byproduct. I would have blown the whole damn city up if the Lords pushed me and a King needs to care about his people more than I have the capacity to.

    “How many Kings or Queens have you ever served?” He raises a single greying eyebrow in challenge.

    “… None.”

    Smirking at my answer leads to Barristan’s next confident comment. “So trust me when I say, you’re the best one Westeros has had in living memory.”

    “Thanks Barristan.” I really needed to hear that, but I’m still not ready to raise sails. I’m just another coward when it comes right down to it.

    “You’ve never come with us to prayer,” Marya adds, making me shift guiltily in her arms. “But my faith in the Seven is why I’ve accepted our fate. I prayed for our loved ones to be spared this blight and now my children are all going to live full lives because of your quick thinking.”

    “It’s just so hard to believe in something I can’t see and have never heard real proof of.” I know magic is real, death is supposed lead to just… nothing in the series but this is my life now. What happens when I die?

    Are the Old Gods actually magical entities beyond my comprehension, or are they just dead people’s souls stuck it some trees? Is the Drowned God real or just nonsense made up by some wannabe vikings? My mind whirls with these grim thoughts and I can’t help but worry if the darker deities are the ones with the real power here.

    Why didn’t I keep my mouth shout and just make Mother escape with me from Dragonstone. We could have hide out on the Summer Isles. It doesn’t seem like my efforts have done anything but give people a few more years, why did I even bother?

    “If I’m going to die, I’m doing something for myself for once.” A feeling of strength wells up inside me and I find the energy to stand on shaking legs. “No ones ever comeback from Valyria… good thing we’re already on a one way trip already.”




    Renly Baratheon
    Watching the sails raise on the two plague boats tugs on my heart and I know many present on the docks feels the same. We’re all watching loved ones sail away in a moment of united grief and all I can do is force down my growing fury.

    Cersei and her newest boy are watching from her tower window and I can at least be happy we have some new life in exchange for so much loss. His head is covered in a light fuzz of dark grey hair, with dark blue eyes nearly indigo in color.

    Ever since his birth Cersei has gone back to her more passive rudeness and her maids don’t need to be replaced once a week. Must just have been worried about the Shalescale and now she knows Orys is fine.

    Things should start going back to… well not normal. I hiss in realization at the fact my life will never be able to return to normal ever again. My rock is gone and I have no idea what to do with my life now.

    Arianne Martell is one of the only survivors and my guest until the seas are safe to travel once more. Her grief is palpable as she sobs into one of Viserys’ shirts and I force myself to say something.

    “Viserys hadn’t smiled for six years before we found you.” She looks up and snorts at the claim. “It’s true. He might have grinned or smirked but he never actually seemed happy… you made his eyes light up like I hadn’t seen since before Edmure died.”

    “He made me happy and I know it would have become love one day soon.” Her eyes are no longer brimming with tears, but burn with the same rage I feel inside myself. “But Gerold Hightower and Arthur Dayne decided to ruin any chance of that.”

    In these moments it’s never enough to say ‘I’m sorry’, because both parties know it’s an empty platitude.“That means we each can kill one of them.”

    “The Lord Commander of the kingsguard and the greatest living swordsman?” She looks ready to laugh and I have to work on not directing my anger at her. “How do you expect me to kill either one of them?”

    “Should be easy enough once I chop off the hands and feet of whichever one you want to end.” I don’t know either personally, don’t really give a damn which one’s head I split in half. “Might need Dale’s help with the Sword of the Morning though. I hear he’s decent with a blade or something” Where the hell is this bravado coming from?


    “You even think about getting revenge without me and I’m going to keelhaul you.” Dale hears his name and takes that as an invitation to join he conversation.

    His voice is grim and lacking any of his normal good cheer but he is watching his mom disappear, can’t really blame him since I can’t even remember my own. Even Lester seems upset at all this sorrow hanging thick in the air and refrains from any kind of perverted comment.

    I think it shocks Lester as much as anyone when he keeps his tone respectful and his words useful. “Galladon and his father have got Shipbreaker Bay under constant patrol, while the Estermonts have the southern border ready for any pirates with a death wish. But the Swann’s haven’t seen any sign of trouble on the Reach border… are you sure we need so many men in the Marches?”

    “Where would you have invaded, if it was you in charge of the Stormlands invasion?” My voice is calm but I’m filled with tension over yet again needing to defend my choice.

    His green eyes cross in thought but I don’t have time to enjoy how cute his pout is. “Between the Dornish Marches and the Kingswood.”

    “Exactly. We had next to nothing in place after six years of peace, nearly everyone was on our coasts because of the increased pirate activity… but now that we know all these factions are working together?”

    “We can’t afford to take any chances.” Lester is finally seeming to understand how much stress I’m now under.

    “And I’m not going to, that’s why I’ve twenty five thousand in reserve.” Stannis will have to be fine with Dorne’s contribution of fifteen thousand and the ten thousand Stormlanders who boarded Tyrion’s fleet.
     
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