Chapter 3: It Begins: Opening Act

The sunlight spread across the horizon, a red slash that bled across the darkness, like blood spilling forth from a freshly wrought wound over an unscarred body.

Jon Arryn stood across the windswept cliff where his party had made their night camp on their way to Sunspear, on the peaks of one of the cliffs of the Ghost Hills, the last barriers before the road to Sunspear became clear. As his men began preparations to pack up and start their journey, Jon Arryn took a moment to contemplate the state of affairs in the realm.

Such folly, he leaned back against the boulder as he contemplated the cause for this trip. One young man's anger and another old man's greed, and the whole of Westeros must bleed for this mistake. Not for the thousandth time, he cursed Tywin Lannister to the deepest pits of hell imaginable for causing this situation in the first place.

Suddenly, he was disturbed from his thoughts as he heard the shouts of his guards, yelling at each other, and hastily reaching for their weapons while grouping together into a loose formation.

"HALT! STATE YOUR PURPOSE!"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"STOP HIM! DO NOT LET HIM APPROACH THE LORD UNCHALLENGED!"

As he grabbed his sword and looked askance at the source of the commotion, Jon Arryn could make out a lone rider racing towards their group at full speed astride a giant destrier from the North, from the direction of the Crownlands. A few hundred yards behind the rider, he could make out a few dozen more horsemen riding hard trying to catch up to the leader. As the leader came ahead, the sunlight bounced off harshly from his armor making it look as if a miniature sun had come about. The sunlight bouncing off the burnished bronze nearly blinded the old lord of the Vale for a moment, who smiled and sheathed his blade.

"Stand down! It is lord Yohn Royce who approaches! Let them pass!" he ordered as his guards relaxed at the news. Soon, the lord of Runestone was upon their position. He waved a hand at the old lord, and alighted from the horse and handed over the reins to a guard who had rushed forward, and made his way towards his master.

"Greetings, Lord Royce! To what do we owe this unexpected yet pleasant surprise?" Jon greeted his most powerful and loyal vassal, and gave him a brief embrace after clasping his forearm in the traditional greeting form. A few moments later, the rest of Lord Royce's party approached as well, and were similarly greeted by Lord Arryn's men who rushed to assist their fellow countrymen.

"I bring word my lord, of great tidings. Much has happened while you were traveling in this desert, and lord Hoster Tully bid me ride abreast as quickly as possible to keep you updated," Yohn replied even as Jon led him into his tent.

"The situation must be dire indeed, if it has even you running ragged," Jon mused even as he poured out a glass of wine from a wineskin and handed it over to the valeman who took it with gratitude and drank deeply. After a few minutes, sighing loudly Yohn Royce settled down for a bit while Jon sat opposite his old friend and motioned for him to continue.

"I must caution you my lord that the facts we have are still disjointed. Various reports were still coming in, but Lord Varys and Lord Tully were of one opinion that you needed to be apprised of certain facts before you reach Sunspear," Yohn began.

"Very Well. So, what have you learned, Yohn?" Jon asked, focusing his mind as he gazed at his bannerman.

"Well, for one my lord, the Ironborn have moved at last, the Greyjoy brothers, Balon, Euron & Victarion have set sail with their respective fleets, and have targeted White Harbor, Lannisport & Seagard. The attacks were claimed to have been conducted swiftly, mercilessly and in absolute stealth. Apparently, going by the reports from Seagard and Lannisport, they came in the dark, raided and pillaged to their hearts content and disappeared without a trace," Yohn concluded.

Jon Arryn's face was wroth with anger and he stood up with a roar and flung his goblet afar even as he screamed, "How the hell does an enemy attack successfully and disappear without a trace?" in a tone which made even the hardy lord of Runestone wilt.

"The details are sketchy my lord, but Lord Varys is attempting to get more information even now. Perhaps it would be prudent to let him assemble the information first and present it in an orderly manner so that we can make the correct decisions in response," Yohn finished trying to smooth the troubled waters.

"Yes, Yohn, I suppose so," Jon allowed himself to calm down and sat down again.

"What else?"

"In response to these threats, Lord Tully has ordered the bulk of the Riverlands forces to return home, now that the war is dying down. He claims that leaving his lands undefended, while the Ironborn are on the move is not feasible and nothing we can say will dissuade him from this matter. The same goes for Lord Lannister; even as I left, his brother was already busy making preparations to lead the bulk of the Lannister army back into the Westerlands. And it would be easier to squeeze blood out of stone than trying to convince Tywin Lannister to change his mind."

Jon stood up and again began to pace around, "This is exactly what I was afraid of, Lord Royce. By attacking now, the Ironborn have thrown everything we have achieved into jeopardy. The realm is not stable yet, Dorne has not yet dipped its banners, and now of all times, the Ironborn choose this particular time to go back to their old ways. As a direct result, two of the four core armies of the Rebellion are now disbanding, no, rather than saying that, it would be safe to say they are relocating home. That reduces our military strength by half already and places us in a very precarious position."

"The Reach has surrendered to Robert, but their loyalty is by no means guaranteed. If they ally with Dorne, then Westeros will literally be broken in half, and with the armies of the Riverlands and Westerlands gone away from the Crownlands, we will be in a difficult position if the Reach, Dorne and the Iron Islands ally with each other and attack Kings Landing."

"Do you really think the Reach will ally with Dorne after dipping their banners to Robert? They cannot be that shameless my lord, they would lose all credibility with the other ruling houses in Westeros," Yohn Royce pointed out, while Jon Arryn dismissed his words with a wave of his hand.

"PAH! Those assholes in the Reach are the most self-centered and conceited pricks that I have ever had the displeasure of knowing in my entire life. The Reach, and consecutively House Tyrell respect only strength and power, and nothing else."

"You must remember Lord Royce, that over the past thousands of years no dynasty has ever ruled over the entire collective Westeros apart from the Targaryen's. The Targaryen's were able to force their will upon the seven kingdons and rule them for the last four centuries only because they had the insurmountable might of Dragons on their side at the beginning of their reign. You can say that the decline of House Targaryen began the moment the last Dragon died. We are now witnessing the last days of the Targaryen dynasty."

"We have deposed House Targaryen through our rebellion and are trying to install Robert Baratheon as the new King of Westeros. To many of the lords, this is unacceptable though they might not object publicly. Quite a few ambitious lords will start rebellions of their own if order is not imposed quickly. If we can rebel to overthrow a king that we do not like, then what is to stop certain reticent vassals of ours to rebel against our houses by saying they do not like us? Every Kingdom has at least one powerful vassal house which has historic enmity with its ruling houses. House Bolton for Stark, Frey for Tully, Hightower for Tyrell, and so on for a few noteworthy examples. Imposing order as quickly and resolutely as possible is our only way forward. We ought to not only think about preventing the collapse of the existing order, but the safeguarding of the future as well."

"Your words are wise and insightful as ever, my lord. Your wisdom never ceases to amaze me," Yohn acknowledged his liege lord's words with a curt nod of respect.

"Hmm, I forgot in the heat of my words, did Lord Stark also order his army back? If I recall your words correctly, then the North has been attacked as well, correct?" Jon Arryn asked, while cringing inwardly, thinking about the reply he was sure he would get in the affirmative.

So, he was quite shocked, when Yohn Royce gave a sharp bark of a laugh and shook his head, "You may rest easy on that count, my lord. Lord Umber, who remained in Kings Landing as the commander of the Army of the North, assured me that even before mustering his army, Lord Stark had anticipated such an event, and had made adequate preparations to defend the North from Ironborn raids in the absence of the Northern Army, if such an event were to occur. His prudence seems to have paid off splendidly. Of the three Ironborn Raids, only the raid on the North seems to have failed. The reports state that the Northmen handled the Ironborn roughly, but they did not emerge unscathed either. But compared to the results of the raids in the Riverlands and Westerlands, the raid on the North could be likened to a mere pin-prick if nothing else."

"As expected of Eddard," Jon praised, his face flush with pride, "that boy does not make a single wasted move. At the very least, it is reassuring to know that the strongest army in Westeros, the Northern Army, still remains at our side and has not turned back home."

"Back to the matter at hand, what else?" Jon ordered.

"The Army of Dorne has finally moved," Yohn Royce spoke in a curt tone.

"What? Where? And how many men?" Jon asked in rapid succession even as fear took place in his heart at the possible ramifications of such a move.

"Three weeks ago, from what we can make out," Yohn replied back with a grim voice. "A force of forty thousand at least. They seem to have mustered their full strength and have made their way to the Prince's pass, and have blockaded it completely, and are staying put for now."

"Forty thousand! They have fielded an army of forty thousand! How is that possible? We all believed that nearly two thirds of Dorne's army perished on the battle of the trident!" Jon exclaimed in horror as he began to perspire even in the cool confines of his tent.

"It seems Dorne has misled the entire world, my lord," the lord of Runestone chuckled ruefully, "They sent a fifth of their full might to the battle of the trident, and made the whole world believe that they had been beaten, when in reality they were hiding like the vipers they are, to strike at the opportune moment."

"Have they crossed over into the lands of the Reach?" Jon asked, fearing the possibility of an alliance between the Reach & Dorne. With the army of 80,000 of the Reach, and the newly revealed 40,000 of Dorne, they would make a very potent force. Adding the possibility of the Ironborn into the mix led his thoughts towards a path which the old falcon did not wish to take even in his worst nightmares.

"Strangely, no, my lord, they have entered the marshlands, and they appear to be consolidating their hold over the entire area. The reports state that they seem to have already taken over the entire uninhabited regions of the Marshlands, not just the part belonging to Dorne mind you, but the part belonging to the Reach as well. They have for all appearances and purposes declared war on the Reach instead, if one were to look at it in a certain way," Yohn Royce finished while Jon Arryn froze, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"Are they out of their minds? Why are they picking a fight with the Reach of all kingdoms? Is Prince Oberyn out of his mind? What is he thinking?" Jon exploded, even as he began to pace back and forth, furiously thinking of any possible rationale for the move.

"That is what has all of us perplexed, my lord, for it is not Oberyn Martell who commands the Dornish army," Yohn replied bluntly throwing his lord for a loop.

"WHAT!?"

"From what we can make out, the army of Dorne is being commanded by young Quentyn Martell, the heir of Dorne," Yohn Royce continued his face echoing the disbelief he felt while uttering said words.

"You cannot be serious! Myriah Martell has placed the entire might of Dorne in the hands of an untested and green boy? What is she thinking? And where in the world is Oberyn Martell? If anyone should be commanding the armies of Dorne, it should be their greatest warrior, not some child!" Jon retorted, even as his words and his face displayed the sheer disbelief that he was currently feeling.

"If the reports are to believed, then Prince Oberyn Martell has been temporarily banished to Braavos. Apparently, the good lady Martell believes that having the Red Viper present when you would arrive to present your terms, would guarantee the failure of any talks before it even begins. So, in order to give peace a chance, she seems to have sent him away, and has ordered all her bannermen to Sunspear to prevent any sort of collusion between them and her hotheaded son. And at the same time, she has sent the entire military might of Dorne to the borders, under the command of her young and untested grandson. Quite a puzzling series of events, if I may be bold as to say," Yohn concluded with a deep sigh.

Jon Arryn was silent for a few minutes, and then he looked at Yohn Royce with a very unsettled look on his face, "Something is very wrong. I can feel it in my bones."

"That is the only thing I can safely agree upon currently, my lord," the lord of Runestone quipped back, while Jon cracked a thin smile. "Well, we will reach Sunspear in three days. There is no way this thing can get any worse," Jon Arryn snarked even as the two old lords chortled for a bit as they laid down to rest for a bit.

They had no idea of how wrong they were.

IN KINGS LANDING, AT THE SAME TIME,

Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers for the Kingdom of Westeros, and currently serving as the same for the King-in-Waiting, Robert Baratheon, looked at the message he had just received in his hands and clenched his teeth in impotent anger.

All his plans for the foreseeable future and his efforts to bring some sort of stability in Westeros had just been dealt a death blow, if the contents of the message he had just read were true.

Either way, for his own survival he had no choice but to inform King Robert. Again, he rued the fact that Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully and Eddard Stark, the only three men in existence who could temper Robert Baratheon's rage were currently away. Then again, considering the contents of the message, Lord Stark would not be in a position to do anything for quite some time, if his guess was right. A pity, he mused, he could have used the help. But there was no use in crying over spilt milk.

He sighed deeply and walked away, leaving a small rumpled note on the desk.

It contained a simple message.

Lyanna Stark murdered by Sir Arthur Dayne in front of Eddard Stark.

Only Eddard Stark and Lord Howland Reed live, Dayne has killed his fellow Kingsguard and five of Stark's men, and has made his way back into Dorne.

War is most certainly upon us.

Author's note: YEAH. I JUST DID THAT. I DID SAY I WAS GOING TO BUTCHER CANON HORRENDOUSLY. I BELIEVE THIS IS A GOOD START.