21 Intrigue

A/N: You thought it was over! But it was not! 4.4k words more! Bam!

34.07k/40k words - Deadline: 6/11-22 at 10 pm CET. (Shit! 5.92k behind... Well, they'll be written before I finish the usual 10-15k for next week. Gotta keep them promises after all!)

A slightly different chapter, featuring some interesting characters.

Enjoy!

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Sunspear, Dorne - 289 AC

POV | Doran Martell

Sometimes… Doran wondered how he had wronged the Gods. He had been a somewhat dutiful son, the only time he ever disobeyed his mother, was when he married a woman from Norvos, Lady Mellario, out of love.

He had been a dutiful prince. Never had he ever used his power like a tyrant. He took care of his family and people alike. Yet the world had still allowed for his sister to be raped and killed, and for the head of his nephew to be smashed into a pulp.

He had been forced to foster his son with men he did not trust and exile his own brother because the boy in Oberyn, did not know how to act with moderation. Alas, those actions were not necessarily bad. They painted him as a pacifist. A man of nonaction. Grass, in comparison to the fearsome Red Viper his brother was viewed as. Yet only the Grass knew of the danger it hid in its meticulous cover.

A Dragon princess. A betrothal with a Dragon and his own daughter. Arthur Dayne. Agreements with the Pirates of the Stepstones, the daughters of Valyria and much more. Plans that only he knew the entire scope off.

Doran understood the might of secrecy, he understood loss, power, and the value of time, things that the rest of his family unfortunately did not understand. 'Thankfully, I am the Prince of Dorne.'

He was the eldest of five children, a fact that most seemed to forget. Elia was not the first sibling he had lost, and if Oberyn did not start acting with more tact, then Doran was afraid that he would be left as the last sibling living, despite being the absolute oldest of all of them.

Sometimes he cursed his fate. He had been born many years before Elia, and whilst he still loved his siblings as any brother would, they would never understand him as he understood them. They were simply born of different generations, and they held vastly different experiences and values.

Oberyn had grown up as the third born, far removed from the responsibilities of ever having to rule anything. The lack of responsibility had allowed him to do whatever he wanted without having to care for the consequences. His family had ruled Dorne for thousands of years and his sister had married the Targaryen Crown Prince. Who would ever dare harm the little prince?

His circumstances had allowed him to grow up free and unruly.

Doran lamented that Oberyn's first true loss had happened to be through the brutal death of Elia. He would have been more tempered and pragmatic if his first loss was not his heart.

Issues upon issues. Hate upon hate. Drama upon drama. Heightened feelings of all kinds were the daily matters of the Lord of Sunspear. Not even his body seemed to agree with him any longer, yet the Prince of Dorne would forever remain Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.

He was a man of immense patience, whether it was for planning, politics, or personal matters, yet he was also Dornish. If one thing could possibly send him into a rage, then it would be the latest missive he received from his contacts in Norvos.

He had just found out that his own wife had refused establishing contact between the two dragons and Dorne. Since he exiled Oberyn and his wife left for Norvos, his brother had been trying to find Viserys, yet without luck. Something his wife knew was paramount to his plans.

The juices from the half-peeled blood orange in his hand were dripping down his forearm onto the floor as he clenched it in anger. The juices looked like blood because of the flickering of the flames from the lamps. His eyes fell on the cane he had just commissioned, but he disregarded it as he left his solar. The pain in his limbs a welcome escape from the pain his heart felt at the betrayal of his trust.

For a man with a wife, three children, and more than four nieces… He felt terribly alone as Areo Hotah followed him silently.

He truly loved his family. He wanted the blood of his enemies as much if not even more than Oberyn, but Doran's wrath was an entirely different beast. He did not need to find an immediate release. The Death of Tywin Lannister, Gregor Clegane, and Amory Lorch would never be enough for him.

Dorne. His family. The Realm. They all thought him weak and pliable. Yet, none knew the true monster they had awakened. Every single one of them would burn in the fires of his wrath. The Rains of Castamere would be remembered as an act of mercy when he was done with them.

When everything would finally come together, the Westerlands would burn in the flames of his hatred, and House Nymeros Martell would remain unchallenged. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.

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Pyke, Iron Islands - 289 AC

POV | Euron Greyjoy

Euron leaned back in his chair, he had achieved what he needed to in this ridiculous secession of his elder brother. Now began the waiting game. If he was lucky, Balon and his heirs would die, leaving him as the next Lord Reaper.

If he was luckier, Balon would survive with no heirs but the youngest, an heir that would most likely be taken as a hostage and turned into a Greenlander who would never rule The Iron Islands. Euron would be exiled for his actions during the burning of the Lannister Fleet, and he could enjoy freedom to raid every ocean and every city in the world, until he had the magic and power he needed to conquer it. Starting by taking the Iron Islands from his brother and nephew.

His visions only strengthened his belief in the last outcome. 'Who, but a God or a Dragon, would receive visions such as these?' Euron knew that he was not a Dragon, and that left but a single option.

His calculating ocean blue eyes were scanning the room, and a small smile was decorating his handsome face encapsulated by his dark hair and beard. 'They will all bow to the Storm or Drown in it.' His smile grew a shade darker at that. His first destination would be Qarth. The essence of Nightshade had given him useful visions the first time, and he wanted more.

'Dragons, Demons, Gods, Good and Evil, and little me. I'll be above all of them. First I'll conquer the fourteen seas, and then I'll rule the world.' The appetite of the second son of Quellon Greyjoy was unequalled by all.

He might only be one and twenty, but he understood the truths of the world, and his only wish in the world was power. He wanted the best of all the world had to offer. Magic. Weapons. Armour. Men. Women.

Everything there was to achieve would be his. Immortality. Valyrian Steel. Absolute Obedience. A Dragon Queen.

'She might be a little young for now, but what is a few years of waiting for an immortal such as me?'

The people of the Iron Islands knew that Euron Greyjoy was a prodigy in warfare, strategy, and politics. Their successful destruction of the Lannister Fleet strengthened that belief, which happened to be Euron's plan from the beginning.

A lesser-known fact was that Euron had studied the different dynasties and empires of the world. Their methods of ruling, conquering, and their eventual declines. Through his studies, one fact proved the truth of the world to him.

'All Kings fall. Their empires fall with them. The second generation will forever be a disappointment in comparison to the first. Why should I allow for such stupidity? When being a man is a limitation, then why should I remain such?'

The red liquid in his cup swirled as he listened to the idiocy of his elder brother. He could not help but sneer at the trash his stupid mouth spewed. 'Ugly cunt.' The power and potential to become truly great, but not the mind to truly achieve it.

'If this is the limit of man, I will become a God.'

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The Crag, The Westerlands - 289 AC

POV | Tywin Lannister

It had been more than two moons since the Ironborn had burned his fleet down, yet the Lion Lord was still seething with rage. His glacial green eyes were cruel and hard as looked upon the ships they had just captured after an unsuccessful raid on a coastal village.

'If these savages think there is gold to find here, they will be severely disappointed. Only death awaits them.'

He sat atop his mighty destrier, the horse was a deep maroon and well-muscled creature with red steel protecting its mighty body from arrows and most other attacks. Tywin was likewise clad in red and golden armour as he overlooked his troops from the back.

Kevan sat beside him on a horse just as mighty, nothing less would do for a Lannister. No matter whether he was a second born or eight born. A lion was without equal. Always.

"Brother. What are you planning?" asked his ever-loyal brother. The sole man Tywin knew he could always count on. A small comfort in a harsh world.

Tywin turned his head towards him and regarded his getup for a few short moments. "You are curious." Was his answer.

His brother proceeded to nod, before he followed up. "You spent much gold on our fleet, yet it is now gone. Do you seek a repeat of Castamere?"

Tywin's answer was short, cold, and succinct. "No. It would be a mercy."

Kevan visibly shivered at the answer, yet he would never question any of Tywin's orders.

'Only I know how important our fleet truly was. The trade expeditions we would have been able to finance.' He seethed as he looked upon the last raider to be executed. He would take no prisoners unless his name was Greyjoy.

The Lannisters had been mining The Rock for more than eight thousand years, and the Casterlys had been mining it even before that. 'Yet the wastrels never sought to develop other streams of revenue. I had to finance a slovenly King and a spendthrift daughter as well as build a proper fleet of trade ships and war galleys to protect them, just so our family could start profiting through different ventures.'

The mines were starting to thin out, and Tywin was not a man who would ever allow his family to grow poor. Thus, he had commissioned ten war galleys that could man up to a thousand each and large trade galleys to be manned by hundred and fifty each to leave space for goods. Ships that lay broken and burned by Lannisport.

Whilst a small fleet, it had cost him no less than a ten thousand dragons for each ship, a price that would leave most men as paupers, yet a price he was willing to pay for their continued prosperity.

'300,000 Gold Dragons is a paltry sum altogether. I have lent the Crown no less than 1.5 million Gold Dragons in nine years, and our coffers are still fuller than any other Kingdom's. What anger's me is the money I could have been making right this instant.'

He could have had ten thousand men practicing their naval warfare abilities whilst his twenty trade galleys could have moved goods worth hundreds of thousands each moon. At worst he could have turned into a war fleet to be used as a force of sell swords. Making 30,000 Gold Dragons a moon would have been only too easy with the reputation of his family.

'Now I'll have to waste another 300,000 for a fleet of a similar size, and it will most likely take another three to five years for it to be finished. It's not like I wield the power necessary to make the Braavosi shipwrights build it faster. Even if their blasted Arsenal can truly build ships in a day. A strain they only go through when they lose their own ships.'

"Lord Lannister!" a voice interrupted his musings. He turned towards the young boy who looked almost ready to keel over. "The banners of Baratheon, Arryn, Tully, and Stark are nearing." He dismissed the boy with a nod before he had his horse move towards the castle.

Kevan rode up beside. "Brother, where do you wish to receive them? I'll deal with the setup."

"We'll keep the command central in the castle for now. We cannot hit Balon without the fleet of Stannis, no matter how many troops they have assembled. Prepare for our eventual take-off. The next major battle, if Stannis succeed, will be by Fair Castle."

A short nod and a quick "By your leave." Was all he needed before Kevan rode off to prepare.

His eyes were taking in the bodies of the dead men they were collecting and stripping of useful gear.

"They'll hear me roar soon enough." He whispered as his dispassionate eyes kept regarding the moving of the dead during the return to The Crag.

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Winterfell, The North - 289 AC shortly after Aegon's departure

POV | Catelyn Stark

"What do you mean, Jon Snow left the castle? Where did he go?!" her voice was almost hysteric as she screamed at the servant girl who had informed her in the Solar of her husband. Her heart was beating rapidly, as she mulled over the current mess they were in.

'What possible reason could he have for leaving so soon? Benjen left yesterday, and Aegon was supposed to stay for another moon before he joined him… I'll have to find the kids as soon as possible.'

The servant girl was trembling as she answered, and Catelyn would have felt terrible if she did not fear for Aegon. 'I'll apologise later.'

"He just left, milady, all of sudden he appeared beside his great beasts. Fearing for our lives we were. The young Jon seemed furious. Some said he had been crying. Even the beasts were quiet. It was scary, all warmth had disappeared from the courtyard. The Young Lord Robb and Domeric were trembling, and little Sansa was crying." She rambled on and on, before Catelyn raised a hand.

"Thank you, Bethany. Take the rest of the day off. Please join us for supper as well." Catelyn's voice was much gentler this time as she had gathered her previously chaotic thoughts. 'Something is terribly wrong.'

Aegon had been the perfect boy for the last moon. He was training hard with Ser Rodrik, giving the seasoned knight a run for his gold. He was studying even harder, hours and hours of reading and writing in a language she could never hope to understand, and despite his daily work he still had time for his friends and family.

Catelyn had even started enjoying their secret evening talks with tea and lemon cakes in her room. She had gotten to know the dear boy very well, trying her best to make up for wasted time. 'He has almost become a confidant to me.'

Yet, she could not imagine what would have made him leave in such a rage. He was by all means a very calm boy whenever he was not fighting in the yard of wrestling with his beasts. An activity most of the staff had come to enjoy watching. His graceful movements as he moved like the beasts he was trying to subdue physically.

Not that he could actually win physically, but his cunning as he used their speed and strength against them to make them submit, was a sight to behold. When the men had tried to wrestle him for some diversity, he had shown how even Ser Rodrik could be thrown around with ease when the man was not wielding a blade.

'None of his activities indicated that he was angry or discontent though. Maybe slightly impatient if one looked at his eagerness to improve…'

Her musings were interrupted by rapid knock followed by the entrance of every single of the kids except for Arya and Bran. The last two troublemakers were asleep after having just eaten.

She looked at the kids before her, and just by their postures she could see that only Robb, Domeric, and Sansa had actually seen Aegon leave. Rodrik, Eddard, and Torrhen looked slightly lost as they stood with their friends as some sort of moral support.

She took in the visages of her own children and Domeric, trying to decipher what they were feeling, and she could feel her ire rise slightly as she looked at her sobbing daughter.

"What happened?" her voice as warm as she could make it. 'There is no reason to upset them anymore than they already are.'

The boys looked at each other to see who would go first, but it was Sansa who answered first. Her little cheeks and eyes were red with tears and her brother was rubbing her shoulder gently to give her some comfort. It seemed to work slightly as the girl answered whilst sobbing. Her voice came out in a heartbroken whisper.

"Jon was so angry and cold. Not warm. Not warm like my brother. He hated me."

She cried louder as the last sentence left her mouth. "I don't want him to hate me."

Catelyn's heart almost broke at those words and she rushed to scoop her little lady up into her arms. She brought her into a tight hug. "He doesn't hate you. I promise. You know how much Jon loves you." This was probably the first time Sansa had ever heard those words from her mother.

She looked upon Catelyn with her large blue eyes full of hope. "You promise?" she smiled sadly at her little daughter. "I promise." Sansa seemed to gain back her composure as she asked. "Then why was he so angry?"

Catelyn looked at the boys now. A raised eyebrow was all she needed to make Domeric answer.

"I don't know My Lady. I have never seen him so wrathful. He said he was going hunting."

Robb tensed visibly as understanding seemed to dawn on his features. Every single soul in the room was looking at him for answers. The other boys started asking him questions rapidly.

"Shut up, I need silence." He barked out. "I'm not as good as Jon at this." He closed his eyes, and he looked highly concentrated. Something the other boys seemed to understand perfectly as they quietened down fast and without any barbs.

Catelyn was confused by the behaviour of them but considering the seriousness of their expressions and Sansa's obvious curiosity, she decided on a wait-and-see approach.

Robb nodded slowly. "We're alone. Good."

Robb's grey-blue eyes locked onto her deep blue. 'When did they become more grey than blue?' she wondered briefly before she was interrupted by his words.

"Do you remember our hunting trip two years ago?" Catelyn felt the dread as if it happened only yesterday. She still thanked her Gods and even the Old Gods for the mercy they had bestowed upon their family since they allowed them to survive those dreadful encounters.

She inclined her head slightly. "What do those have to do with anything?"

Robb looked tense as he pondered on his next words.

"When the wildlings attacked… They were particularly nasty about their intentions." She shivered at the hate in her son's voice. They had not given many details regarding the encounter, except for the fact that Robb and Jon had fought remarkably.

'Poor boys… And Aegon was all alone after that.' She felt brief disgust at her callous behaviour. She had coddled Robb after the encounter but given no thoughts to her nephew as he dealt with the trauma by his lonesome.

Robb continued, his voice and face so very similar to his father's when he was talking about something he did not want to share. "Jon… He…" He stumbled slightly upon his words.

"He turned into something else."

"Something else?" inquired Torrhen. "Like what? A wolf?" he said in slight jest, a somewhat cute but futile attempt to alleviate the tense air of the Solar.

Robb nodded for a short while, much to the surprise of the others before he started bopping his head from side to side.

"Yes and no. It was like he turned into hate. His voice was eery and his eyes were almost glowing. He killed six men before I could even gather my wits about me."

Robb started shaking as the memory passed before his inner eye. "We were only seven, but it was almost like he turned into something else after they threatened me."

"Someone else."

They all chilled slightly at that. They all knew Aegon was incredibly strong, but still, a seven name days boy killing grown men, no matter how untrained, was still an insane feat. Even though he lost in single combat, he still managed to kill them through utilizing the environment and chaos of the situation.

"When he left today… It was the same rage. Like someone had threatened those he cares about. His words… I think it was a reference to what happened two years ago."

The silence was deafening, as they could all hear their own heartbeats dunking in their ears. Domeric had a calculating look in his eyes. He whispered something in Robb's ear, and Catelyn felt slightly peeved that he did not share his words with the room.

Robb had a pensive look on his face as he looked at his mother. He frowned slightly before he shook his head. "You know how Jon is really good with animals, right?"

Catelyn felt herself smile at those words. That was the understatement of the century. 'They probably don't want to disclose his warging abilities. They are loyal friends.'

"I know about his warging abilities. Ned told me." 'The last part was a lie, Aegon had told her just a week ago, after he had tried to explain how he knew almost everything that was going on around The North and even had ears and eyes in The Eyre. Such a useful ability. Though I hope his revelations about Lysa are wrong.' A slight pang of betrayal and hurt stung her heart.

The boys were gobsmacked at her revelation, and she just managed to stifle her laughter.

"Fair enough. I think he might have seen something with his ravens. Something that made him move out now." Domeric looked hurt as he revealed his thoughts.

Catelyn sat down in the chair behind her with the eagerly listening Sansa on her lap. She felt a chill at those thoughts. 'Ned will kill me…'

"Can the soldiers catch up with him?" she asked even though she knew they had a snowballs chance in Dorne. Fenris was impossibly fast an enduring. The Hellhound could run for days at a pace above the best of horses, and he could do it without breaking a sweat. The 600 miles from Castle Black had been traversed in slightly more than 24 hours. No one could hope to catch up.

Robb shook his head as she expected before he smiled brightly. "My falcon is the fastest bird in the world! I can keep watch on him!"

The other boys brightened greatly now that they could at least keep an eye on him.

Catelyn smiled brightly at her son. "Please do so. Tell me if anything happens with him."

Robb nodded eagerly before they all left towards Robb's chambers again. Only Sansa stayed with her as Catelyn thought about the implications of Aegon's actions.

'Please stay safe you stupid brave boy.'

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Wolfswood, The North - 289 AC

POV | Aegon Targaryen

Aegon's rage was still palpable even after 120 miles and four hours. He had kept Fenris speed at around 30 miles per hour in order for him to properly organise his gear. The stable running at such a low speed allowed him to properly care for his weapons and prepare the runes and blood rituals he was going to enhance the castle forged steel with.

He was angry at the world, at the actions he knew he would be forced to take, but deep down he always knew that this was what he would have to do. No matter how much he wished for a peaceful and just world, it would always remain an impossibility.

The words that were truly rummaging throughout his mind were all centred around human sacrifice as he thought on the hundred Ironborn who wanted an easy raid with the potential of strong salt wives.

Given the population of Bear Island and the few soldiers left to protect the Keep, it was a force that could very well succeed if it attacked cunningly.

'They will die trying.'

He could feel the all too familiar rage within himself. The rage he was always keeping under a tight leash. Once more, savages were about to let it come undone, and they would regret it as he harvested their lives.

His companions growled menacingly as they felt his raging emotions.

His eyes flashed white for a second, as he gained a second point of view.

'They are lucky that slavery is disallowed by the Old Gods. A taste of their own medicine would otherwise have been a fitting punishment. Alas, dying like the dogs they are, will be the outcome this time.' His face contorted into a snarl as he saw them share some of the girls they had caught along the way.

'I might not be able to enslave them, but I can enhance the pain my weapons inflict on their victims. That will be the first enchantment on every single of my arrows.'

He had around two days before he needed to reach the Bay of Ice and cross the last 20 miles by boat or swimming. 'Ample time for every single enchantment the steel can contain.

He sneered harshly. "They deserve nothing less."

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A/N: Doran, Euron, and Tywin. Three characters I appreciate greatly in ASOIAF, whereas only Tywin is worth shit in GOT. I will be using the ASOIAF version for the first two as you might be able to guess.

Doran's game is much deeper than most realize, and I really look forward to GRRM's continuation of it. I just know it will be one of those: "OMFG" moments that we all love from his books. I will be trying my own hand at it, and hopefully it will work out well.

Euron... That is one crazy motherfucker. Here is the canonical list of his crimes:

Multiple counts of kinslaying

Mass murder

Torture

Mutilation

Mass rape

Incestuous abuse (books)

Mass kidnapping

Slavery

Participating in the dark arts (books)

Human sacrifice (books)

Piracy

Infanticide (books)

Treason

Usurpation

Kingslaying

Raiding

Forced cannibalism (books)

Yeah. That's a man to fear. A fearsome villain turned into a freaking side villain by the TV-show. SMH. Not here.

Tywin is Tywin. Nough said haha.

A little Catelyn again. Just for the a lighter perspective haha.

And finally Aegon with some of his thoughts on his coming action. The lad is angry as fuck.

See ya for the next chapter!