Chapter 13: The Magnificent Seven

The Conquest of Westeros XXXII.

Faith II.

The Valyrian Freehold worshipped the Pantheon, a selection of gods each of whom had responsibility for different aspects of daily life. From Arrax the Ruler of the Gods, who ruled over Law, Order, Justice, Governance, and Strength to Melys the Goddess of Love and Fertility. Meraxes who was the Goddess of the Sky to Gaelithox the God of Fire, Stars, Moon, Sun, and the Dawn, and who was Meraxes rival. Their dragons just like the Fourteen Flames were more often than not named after the gods they had once worshipped but had long since abandoned.

After the conquest of Essos and the establishment of the Empire, it was the Red God who gained the most ground. R'hllor the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow had already been popular in Essos, in the light of the Empire that popularity simply exploded, and why not? For where Dragons not fire made flesh? Were they not the living breathing symbol of R'hllor's will? While Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya may not have believed so, they did understand the power that religion can have and they embraced that power.

The Empire though was vast and only grew even more so over time and those who ruled it knew one thing, to impose religion upon someone and force them to abandon their gods, that way led to wrath and ruin. So the Empire became a haven of many gods, the Black Goat, the Many-Faced God and R'hllor standing above the others and R'hllor above all. And so it went until the High Emperor married a woman from Westeros and the Faith of the Seven which had been pretty much wiped out in Essos suddenly began being welcomed once more. Were it not for the High Emperor taking another woman from Westeros as his second wife and had that woman not been a follower of the Old Gods, then who knows how far the Faith of the Seven may have risen.

Why Rhaegar Targaryen did what he did no one but he knows. Why he allowed his son to be belittled and spoken about by the Septons and Septa's how they did, only he can tell. Was it part of some great master plan of his? Who can tell. Was it to instill in the Dragonknight a hatred for the men and women who served the Seven who are One and preached their words? Perhaps. What I can say with surety is what Aemon himself would say and that was this.

"We are mere playthings to the Gods and they care not for what we do, who we love, or how we spend our lives and so why should I care for them. Let them judge me if they dare, for I've judged them long ago and have found them wanting." Aemon the Dragonknight.

A history of the conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

The Trident 300 AC.

Rhaenys.

She did as he had asked and watched the parley from high in the air atop Meraxes. Gaelithox flew no more than twenty feet away from her though it was the Blood Wyrm and not simply Meraxes's favorite flying companion that she shared the skies with today. It was more than just a difference in what Gaelithox was called that had named him the Blood Wyrm. Aemon having explained that when he flew on his dragon or his dragon flew alone, his dragon was like two different beings. Gaelithox was relaxed and fun, a dragon who enjoyed the sky and being in it as much as she, Aemon, or Meraxes did. The Blood Wyrm was a war dragon, ever alert, ever watchful, and ready in the blink of an eye to unleash a dragon's fury on those below.

Rhaenys welcomed that it was he she flew with today as not only did it mean that her husband was protected but it made Meraxes more of who she should be too. When she saw the groups separate and Aemon and the others head back to the camp, she looked to the Blood Wyrm to see him turn and follow. Meraxes didn't need to be ordered to do so, her silver dragon knew what it was she wanted before Rhaenys did at times. Aemon had told her to do as the Blood Wyrm did and so when he landed so did Meraxes. Rhaenys then climbed down off Meraxes's back quickly before running to where Aemon was waiting for her.

The feel of his arms around her brought her comfort and protection as they always had. None more than her mother's when she was a younger girl had ever been able to offer her more of either. Even her father's had paled in comparison to how Aemon's embrace would make her feel. Looking into his eyes she could see he was unconcerned and that could only mean that things had gone according to plan and so it would not be a battle that was to occur here today.

"He went for it?" she asked and Aemon nodded.

"A Trial of Seven." Aemon said confusing her somewhat.

"I thought you said…" she began only to be interrupted by a kiss which she didn't welcome as much as she normally would, Aemon looking somewhat confused himself when she moved away from him "A champion, Aems, I thought you said you'd offer a champion to face off against one of his own?"

"I changed my mind." he said and she looked at him annoyedly "This works much better for us, Rhae." he then added far more sheepishly.

"How?" she asked as they walked back to their tent, Torgho Nudho and Arthur no more than a few feet away from them as they did so.

He didn't speak much on the way back, waiting it seemed until they were even more alone to speak to her and his silence bothered her. She'd simply expected Arthur to just beat whoever the Storm King would put up. No man he had in his army would be a match for the Sword of the Morning and while she doubted it would mean the army wouldn't need to fight, she hoped it would. Even if it did not or if the Storm King broke and refused to live up to agreed terms, then the Blood Wyrm would certainly be unleashed making the result of the battle a forgone conclusion. Yet for some reason, Aemon had changed his mind and she liked it not.

"The Faith." Aemon said as they entered the tent.

"What of those fools?" she asked and saw the small smile that briefly appeared on his face.

"Westeros follows the Faith, mostly that is. The Ironborn follow their Drowned God and my mother's family the Old Gods, but Baratheon, most of the Riverlands, the Vale, West, and even your uncle's, they all follow the Faith of the Seven." Aemon said as he poured two mugs of water and handed her one, one that she took gratefully as flying on a dragon was thirsty work.

"Aems, you care not for the Faith of the Seven, nor the fools that follow it." she said and saw his slight nod "As for the Gods…" she laughed.

"True, I respect Thoros and his beliefs, and those among my men who name whatever god their own. I don't look down upon them or tell them they're wrong. The Faith of the Seven who are One, those who preach that faith, fuck them and their seven gods." Aemon said still not answering her questions.

"Then why?" she asked and then it hit her, not the answer to that question but the nagging thought that had been at the back of her head, probably since he told her his plan, suddenly it broke its way through to her lips "You're not fighting him, Aemon." she said determinedly, worriedly, her hand shaking just a little and some drops of water being spilled from her mug.

"Did you think I'd name Arthur? That were it to be champion against champion I'd said another in my stead?" he asked surprised and somewhat shocked she thought.

"You would not have?" she asked her voice raised just a little.

"I fight mine own battles, Rhae. I trained to wield this damn thing." he said his hand on Dark Sister's hilt "You think against a man like Baratheon I'd not have wielded it?" he asked his earlier annoyance subsiding.

"He's a king, he'd not have…" she said, her worries now more to the fore as she felt Aemon's hand touch her face softly and she leaned into the touch.

"He wants me dead, champion against champion he'd have named himself just to face me, Rhae. This way I get to go into the fight with others by my side." he said trying to reassure her and yet she could see in his eyes that her reassurance or her anger at him fighting wouldn't be enough to change his mind and wasn't the reason for what he was doing.

"I don't wish you to fight." she said softly and he nodded before kissing her once again.

"I was born to fight, Rhae, it's what I'm truly good at." Aemon said more than a little proudly.

She knew that was true, that there was no man save for Arthur who came even close to Aemon with a weapon in his hand. Aurane with his own sword, Daario with his Arakh, Torgho Nudho with his spear, or even Thoros with his fiery blade, none came even close. Who was better between him and Arthur was something only they knew, while they'd sparred in public occasionally it had always been clear that the true testing of their blades was something they did only in private. So she knew he would fight and in her head, she knew that the Storm King and his men would be no match. Now if only she could get her heart to stop worrying and threatening to burst from her chest.

"Why the Trial of Seven, Aems?" she asked once more, trying to concentrate on something other than the danger he was placing himself in.

"Just like with the Bloody Gate I wish to send a message. To the faithful and to the people that these false Septons and Septa's claim they serve. Let them name my mother a heathen whore if they dare or name me as a faithless bastard. We'll see what happens when they try and rally the men and women of Westeros against a man who dares to love his sister and shows no shame for doing so." Aemon said and she smiled at that, the one thing she'd never been in doubt of other than his love for her was that he felt no shame for it, even when she had "Let them preach their poisoned words all they wish and then let them explain how against men who worshipped the true gods I was successful in something they consider so sacred."

"You still hate them so." she said as she looked at him and saw him nod.

"They named what I have in my heart as an abhorrence, a sin against the gods. That what I feel for you is wrong and will see us both cast down in the Seven Hells. Oh, they did it only to those who'd listen and father gave them the freedom to say such things." Aemon said with a bitter look on his face when he mentioned their father "But say it they did. They forget themselves, their place, and that the gods care not what we do or who we love. The gods have fashioned us for love and the love I have for you is good and true. So damn any man who names it not and if I need to take the Blood Wyrm and burn every last damn Septon and Septa and send them to their gods for saying it, then so be it." Aemon said his words like ice while his eyes were pure fire as he spoke.

"Aems." she said softly as she wrapped her arms around him and felt his head on her shoulder.

"This is so I don't have to." he said softly and she nodded.

The Trident 300 AC.

Trial of Seven.

Aurane.

He far preferred this than a full-on battle, even knowing they'd win that one too. This was far easier to control and easier to keep yourself safe in. In battle, so many things happened at once that you couldn't just concentrate on the man in front of you. It was hurried, frenzied and danger came from everywhere at once. This, this was like a spar in the yard. True the consequences should you lose were more serious, but who planned to lose? Not he and certainly not any of the five men he walked out with, the sixth was not one he knew and so he didn't know or care what his mind was on this. Aemon, Arthur, Torgho Nudho, Daario, Thoros, and himself, he'd back them against fifty of these Westerosi. Ser Elbert Arryn, him he'd not back against any man and he wondered why it was that he'd volunteered so determinedly.

"Who is the seventh, Aemon?" he asked as they walked to where the Knights of the Vale were sitting.

"I had thought one of Daario's men but Rhaenys tells me I've to name one of the men of the Vale." Aemon said smirking.

"Tells you?" he asked his own smile full.

"What can I say, my wife has found her fire, brother." Aemon said as they reached the others.

Lord Yohn Royce had stood up to step forward after Ser Denys had volunteered and then been talked out of it by both Aemon and the other lords. His position was too important for him to be risked and Aurane tried not to laugh at the irony of Aemon being the one who told him that. Though he knew his brother by choice wasn't truly risking himself in the fight to come. As Lord Yohn had readied to speak, Ser Elbert had then stood up and spoken most eagerly and eloquently, saying the Vale and House Arryn needed to be represented and Aemon had agreed, for reasons that Aurane still wasn't quite clear about. Then he'd spoken to him and the others and had made clear his wishes for the fight to come and yet had told Ser Elbert them not.

"Torgho Nudho, the brother, Prince Stannis. Should he fight I'd see him beaten but not killed." Aemon said.

"This one will see it so, my prince." Torgho Nudho said with a bow.

"Not at the risk to yourself, my friend." Aemon said and Torgho Nudho nodded, the hint of a smile on his face at Aemon's words "Arthur."

"My prince."

"Ser Barristan. We've heard tell that he's the best swordsman in the Stormlands, perhaps even Westeros itself." Aemon said looking to the Sword of the Morning.

"Then it shall be an honor to cross blades with him, my prince." Arthur said and was it any other man then he'd be smiling as he did so, Arthur though was not.

"And us?" Daario asked looking to Aemon.

"I know not who else he'll name, so just win. Take no chances and just end it quickly. I'll deal with Baratheon." Aemon said almost gleefully.

"If Stannis falls?" Aurane asked looking to Aemon.

"Then Renly is going to be the head of his house, is he not." Aemon said with a chuckle and he was relieved to see him enjoying himself so much.

That relief was something he felt even more keenly now, Aemon was laughing and japing with them as they rode to where Robert Baratheon and six men awaited. Were Aemon more serious than he was then Aurane may worry somewhat. If he was simply performing a mummery for their benefit, then he'd know. Had he not brought Marwyn to both look after the wounded should there be any and to write down what happened for that damn book of his, then he'd be truly concerned. Looking to the men with Robert, he named them for the others and told them what he knew of them.

"Robert, Stannis, Barristan we know. The big fellow is Rolland Storm the Bastard of Nightsong and beside him Ser Godry Farring whose words are far more fierce than his blade. Next to him is Ser Richard Horpe and lastly, the red-headed man is Lord Jon Connington. Competent but other than Barristan and Robert himself, none should cause issue." Aurane said and he saw Aemon's little nod as he looked at him.

When they reached the seven they were to face, he could see Robert's huge Warhammer, its spiked points causing him a moment's distress and so he looked to Aemon and his armor. Though he doubted the man would get a chance to land a hit on the Dragonknight who now wore a much more serious expression on his face. Beside Robert, Stannis and Barristan both were eyeing up the men with him and seemed surprised that Ser Elbert had come while on the hills behind them their army stood watching on as some way off did their own.

"I'll accept a yield from any man, other than from your king." Aemon said and Aurane saw immediately how Robert tensed and grew angrier.

"No man will yield to you, boy, and none will accept your own." Robert bellowed and Aemon simply nodded.

"So be it. May your gods welcome you into their embrace and those you love mourn you but fleetingly." Aemon said and with that helms were put on and weapons were drawn and Aurane found himself face to face with Ser Godry Farring. His smile was a true one as the blades clashed together.

Barristan.

Rarely had he seen men so confident and it concerned him greatly. Like others, he'd heard the tales about the so-called Dragonknight, and the young man certainly carried himself how a warrior would. Were he not facing his king then Barristan may worry even more, but few could match Robert blow for blow when he swung his Warhammer. Nor could many breach his armor, the heavy plate not limiting his movements despite its weight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the king's antlered helm and the darkness of Prince Aemon's armor. Stannis was to his left facing off against a man wielding a spear and was wearing a small buckler tied to his arm and the sounds of blades coming together ran out in the large expanse of the field they fought in. The River carried on its merry way with not a care to them and yet the fight that they had brought them closer and closer to its edge and Barristan shook his head having already told the king that this was not where the fight should be.

Robert though was too damn proud to move it and felt he'd picked the ground and not the Damn Dragonspawn as he'd named the prince. Barristan though was now even more sure that he had not. Would that was all he had the need to concentrate on and that he could be standing closer to his king and be ready to cut the Dragonknight down if needed. Instead, he found himself face to face with a swordsman whose skills even he was in awe of. Many years earlier he'd heard tale told of the Sword of the Morning from Dorne, yet Arthur Dayne had not attended the tourneys or traveled anywhere that Barristan had been and so he'd not seen him for himself. Today he wished he was looking at him from afar and not facing him across a field, as it was clear the tales didn't do the man justice.

"Aaaarghhh." he heard the pained cry and with a quick glance, he saw that Jon Connington had fallen, though whether he was dead or simply injured he knew not.

He wished he could move to him and to offer the aid of his sword but he could not. The man in front of him wouldn't allow him to and as his blade came far too close for Barristan's liking, it was that he concentrated on for now. Not that he'd not been doing so or even admiring the blade itself. Dawn was a thing of beauty to behold and in the hands of the man who wielded it even more so. Parrying a thrust he heard another pained cry and saw another of their men had fallen and yet he couldn't see who it was, the blade in front of him too relentless to allow a moment's breath or respite.

Dodging another blow he aimed two of his own which were turned away almost contemptuously and then he felt the pain in his side. The thrust coming so quick and so unexpected that he'd not had a chance to move out of its way. He felt the blood drip and swung his sword only to feel another pain this time in his leg and before he could react to it, his sword and he were both on the ground and some distance apart.

"Yield Ser, for I've no wish to end a brave man here this day." Ser Arthur said and as Barristan looked to see Stannis and Robert both fighting for their lives and Jon Connington and Ser Godry Farring both laying unmoving on the ground he cursed that he had no choice but to do so.

"I yield, Ser Arthur." he said, and then he heard a man run to him and he looked to see a Maester tending his wounds, his fight was done and so was the Stormlands as now six faced four and two more looked about to fall, two men of Westeros and the Stormlands and not these men of Essos.

Thoros.

Ser Rolland Storm was a giant of a man and yet Thoros feared him not. The man seemed confident and composed and yet Thoros worried about him not. Instead, he moved forward and faced the man and with a nod, said his prayer and then watched that confidence and composure leave the man he faced and be replaced by doubt and panic. Fire had a way of doing that to even the bravest man and seeing a sword alight for the first time had always garnered him the same response. As he swung his flaming blade he knew what to expect before Ser Rolland did and he took full advantage of it.

"My God gives me his favor this day, perhaps that should give you pause, Ser." he said as he flashed the sword close to Ser Rolland's helm.

"I fight for my king and in the light of the true gods." Ser Rolland said almost snarling and Thoros nodded.

"My God is the Lord of Light, behold his majesty." he said as the flames grew both hotter and brighter and Rolland moved back, almost tripping over his feet in order to do so.

Thoros heard the first man fall, Jon Connington was no match for Daario's blade and soon he heard the next one as Ser Godry found Aurane to be far too fierce. In the distance, Arthur wielded Dawn against a man far more skilled than any but his prince and the knight himself, and Thoros once again welcomed having the Sword of the Morning here with them in this endeavor. Prince Stannis were he not wished alive would not be so by now as Torgho Nudho was far more skilled than he, and as for his prince. Robert Baratheon may wield his Warhammer like the Warrior reborn but Aemon was who the Warrior would name his own. Were his prince to care what a false god thought of him that was.

Aemon glided while Robert strained and when he saw Ser Elbert move to help his prince, it caught him by surprise. What happened next almost cost Thoros his life as he saw Ser Elbert aim a strike at Aemon's head and were it not for the one that almost cost him his own, it would be to Aemon's side he moved. To get there though he needed to win his own fight and so he put more power into his swings and let the flames burn to their fullest.

The heat from his blade didn't affect him as it did Ser Rolland. Thoros was well used to R'hllor's power and it only brought him warmth while others feared it so. Ser Rolland was no exception and all skills and poise the man may have possessed had deserted him as he fought the flames and not the man that wielded them. Each time he connected with the giant man's armor, sparks would fly and Rolland would almost stumble in his haste to both get away from the sword and to check if he burned for true. So Thoros ensured he caught him often and finally found the opening he wished for.

"Yield." he said as he held the flaming sword close to Rolland's face, the man had been easy to trip after he'd caught him on the shoulder and a spark had made its way into the visor of his helm.

"I yield." Ser Rolland said and Thoros turned to offer his friends and his prince his aid.

Ser Richard Horpe.

These Essosi were cocky cunts, the prince most of all and he looked forward to seeing him be put in his place. He had hoped to face one of them and yet it was a Valeman that moved to him and so he decided to end him quickly. Yet the fight didn't happen, or to be more precise not the fight he'd expected as instead Ser Elbert asked him to perform a mummery. It was not one he'd have considered had not the words Ser Elbert said rang so true.

"Be at peace, Ser Richard, for I'm not a foe." Elbert said as the blades came together.

"I find that hard to believe, Ser, given where we find ourselves and all." he replied with a chuckle.

"You think I wish to serve some fuck from Essos, that I willingly gave up my right to the crown that was supposed to be mine own?"

"I care not for the why, Ser, only the fact that you're here facing me now." he said as he almost caught the Arryn heir in the neck, a quick dodge saving the man's life.

"For a reason, Ser. I came here to backstab the fuck, to be in a position to end Aemon Targaryen for once and for all. It's the only place I can do so as he's too well guarded in camp and has a fucking dragon as well." Ser Elbert said and Richard glanced to the air to see the dragons as they flew overhead.

They were things he'd never have believed were true had he not seen them with his own eyes. Beasts that made a battle an exercise in futility according to some and seeing them for true, he believed it so. It was why when offered this chance to end the Dragonknight's attempted conquest he'd welcomed it. Richard had offered himself up with no hesitation or concern and it was now why he found himself listening as Ser Elbert laid out his plan.

Their fight became a mummery and their blades never came close to hitting home and then with a look to him and a nod, Ser Elbert was gone and moving to the prince, and then an Essosi wielding a curved blade gave chase. Richard moved quicker than the Essosi and stood in his way, the man's expression going from cocky to angered in moments. He didn't have a chance to take stock of the blue-haired man, nor to comment on his stupid beard and mustache. Instead, it was the man's curved blade and his words that he found himself focussed on.

"That fool just signed his death warrant, just as you friends over there did." the man said pointing to Ser Godry Farring and Lord Jon Connington "Now yield and do so quickly and you'll live to see another sunrise."

"Fuck off you Essosi…"

He never got to finish, the man moving so fast that he was almost a blur and the feel of the cut from his curved blade took him to his knees.

"Naharis. Daario Naharis should your gods ask you the name of the man who sent you to them." the man, Daario said as he swung his blade and then Richard heard or saw no more.

Stannis.

They were lost, done for, this fool's errand was now at an end. Ser Barristan lay dead or dying, though at least was getting aid. Ser Godry, Jon Connington, and Ser Richard Horpe all likewise were unmoving and seemed dead to him. Rolland Storm may still breathe but he was done and so it was just he and Robert who fought on. The how and why of him doing so was and had been clear to him for some time. With Robert still living he had no choice and with the man in front of him not seeking to end his life, the fight had gone on for longer than it should.

Instead of killing him, the man simply sought to tire him out and was looking for a chance to end this once he did so. This Unsullied who wore little armor and bore a spear in his hand and a buckler on his wrist while carrying a short sword and larger shield on his back. At first, Stannis had been sure the reason he had not been harmed was that he was just as if not more skilled than the man he faced. Even despite the discomfort, he had found himself in while trying to deal with a warrior using a spear and moving how the Unsullied did. It was a unique action, his thrusts were timed to perfection, and his movements were fluid meaning that Stannis's blade never came close to striking him or his spear.

Even when he'd thought to break the shaft of it and brought his sword down hard, it was to find nothing but air. The man was far too fast, far too skilled and soon it became clear that it was him and not Stannis himself that was the reason he'd lasted so long. When Ser Elbert Arryn turned cloak and moved to attack and not help the prince and when the Unsullied he faced saw it, Stannis's day was done. The fight taking on a different meaning and the first cut catching him so much by surprise that he cried out.

"Aaaarghhh."

"Yield." the Unsullied said.

"Fuck you."

"Aaaarghhh." the pain of the spear in his shoulder making him cry out again and almost drop his sword.

"Yield."

"F…"

The blow brought him to his knees and the next to the ground for true. Stannis feeling himself drift off to a sleep that he knew not if he'd wake from. Yet the blows had been to knock him out rather than to end his life and so he felt it would be one he would. What world he'd wake to when he did, that he knew not but he doubted very much it was the same one he'd known when his eyes had closed.

Robert.

The fucking Dragonspawn had dared to offer his men terms and so he'd see the fucker's head was mounted over the hearth in Storm's End. With hammer in hand and helm on head, he moved to him and as he did so he roared out loudly.

"Ours is the Fury." he said as he swung his hammer to find no one there.

"Who the fuck cares." the Dragonspawn replied.

He swung again and missed once more, the fucker was too fast for his swings and he felt the thin blade that he bore crashing against his plate. Robert laughed behind his helm, as while he may be bearing Valyrian Steel it would take more than that to pierce his armor. Around them, men fought and he was confident that they'd see these invaders dead. Even were they all to fail though. Should each and every single one of them fall, it mattered not. The Dragonspawn would not live to see another day dawning and he'd feast over his fallen corpse before the night was done.

"Stay and fucking fight, coward." he said as the Dragonspawn moved away from another swing of his hammer, Robert getting frustrated as none of his wings had come close.

"What's the matter old man, can't keep up." the Dragonspawn said and Robert found himself backing up as the thin blade got inside his guard more than once.

He heard the first pained cry and smiled as he took another swing and missed yet again. The fucker was fast he'd give him that, fast and he was annoying him greatly.

"One of your men has fallen, Dragonspawn, and he'll not be the last." he said confidently.

"Really, I doubt very much it was one of mine, though perhaps the Valeman should not have taken part." the Dragonspawn japed.

"You think you're men a match for mine own, truly." he scoffed.

"I think were it not for my wish to face you then I could have sent Ser Arthur to end your seven alone. So no we're not a match for your men, we're as beyond them as I am from you." the Dragonspawn said and Robert swung and missed yet again.

He felt the pain only briefly when it came and never even wondered how he'd managed to not just pierce his armor but to hit the fucking bone too. That it was his off arm allowed for him to keep fighting as if he'd not been hit. Again he swung his hammer and again he missed and so he pushed forward and tried to drive the Dragonspawn to the river and to a place where he couldn't so easily dodge his strikes.

Blocking some strikes he moved inside the Dragonspawn's guard and kicked out, sending the fucker back some feet and crashing to the ground. He moved quickly to him, his hammer in hand and ready to end this once and for all. Only to watch as the fucker rolled away and popped back to his feet and then easily dodged the swing he aimed at his head. Another cut and another moment of pain followed. Robert replying with a swing that he couldn't believe had missed and then he rolled his eyes and sighed when he saw Ser Elbert coming to the Dragonspawn's aid. Only it wasn't his aid he came to.

"I'm with you, King Robert, lets end this dragon fuck." Ser Elbert said and Robert smiled, two against one he liked those odds.

Yet to his fury the Dragonspawn easily dodged Ser Elbert's strikes while still doing the same to his own. The pained cry from Ser Elbert was soon drowned out by a gurgle as a spear came out the other side of the man's throat and he fell to the ground.

"My thanks, Torgho Nudho. The fight?" the Dragonspawn asked and Robert despite wanting to do nothing but attack, found himself listening keenly.

"Awaits you to end it, my prince." the Unsullied said and Robert felt his rage boil over at both these and the Dragonspawn's words.

"Then I had better do just that."

He felt the water around his ankles, the river he'd sought to drive the Dragonspawn to instead being one he'd sought some respite in. His fury had been met with speed and cut after cut and he felt himself weakening as the Dragonspawn advanced.

"Your mother was to be mine, boy, you would have been my son." he said angrily.

"And the world would have been a poorer place because of it and I'd have been a kinslayer this day." the Dragonspawn replied catching him by surprise.

"Fuck you and your whore of a mother." he shouted as he swung his hammer and felt it hit home for the first time.

Yet as he looked he saw that his blow had just glanced off the armor and he for some reason was on his knees. The pain and the fact that he had a sword in his chest were not clear to him for more than a few moments. Even when the Dragonspawn pulled the sword back out and he felt his lifeblood pour out of him, it still didn't fully sink in. Only when he looked to his armor and saw that he'd pierced it in a spot he'd already pierced it before did it truly hit home. It was not a thought he'd have for long nor would he have time to admire the precision of the strike. Robert falling and crashing down into the water and against the rocks that made up the river bed.

"Lyanna." he said as he breathed his last.

Riverrun 300 AC.

Howland.

He couldn't believe it had happened again, were it not for the bodies that he carried in the carts he'd have never believed it. To lose one king to an ambush was more than he could bear, two, he knew not how to deal with. Nor more importantly, did he know how he was to explain to Ned and Benjen Stark or to the North that their king had been killed and had his head removed, just as his father had before him. Was that the only news he carried, it would have been enough to have caused the sleepless nights he'd had since leaving Wendish Town. Yet it was not and the weight of the other news he bore was far too heavy for him to bear.

The thoughts that it had been kin who'd done this were hard enough to take. Cursed is the Kinslayer was something that all true men of the North believed and yet it wasn't even that which really kept him awake at night. It was the thoughts that if indeed Prince Aemon had done this, then they were truly fucked. How did you avenge yourself against a man with a dragon? What price that vengeance? And how many lives would it cost the North to see justice done?. Those were the thoughts in his head and the reason for his despair when he saw Riverrun in the distance. Howland steadying himself on his horse as they rode to the keep.

"The princes, where are they?" he asked the Tully guards at the gate when he reached it.

"The Great Hall I believe, my lord." the guard replied and Howland turned to the men with him as they entered through the gates.

"Let no one disturb the bodies until me and the princes arrive." he said and his man nodded.

After he'd dismounted and made his way into the keep, he was grateful to find that there was no one he knew between him and the Great Hall. Or at least no one who would have forced him to stop. Entering the Great Hall he saw no sign of either prince and far too many faces that would have questions that he couldn't answer as of yet. So turning to one of the guards he asked again and was told that Ned and Benjen were in Lord Edmure's solar.

How he made it to it without being stopped, he knew or cared not. Howland was both happy to not have run into more questions and now apprehensive about the ones he was soon to face. When he tried to enter the solar the guard refused him leave to do so and so he had to wait until he was announced before he was let inside. He welcomed the moment's respite and steadied himself before entering the room. Benjen and Ned both turned to look at him and Ned rising to his feet when it took him a moment to speak.

"Brandon, Howland, where is my brother?" Ned asked agitatedly.

"I'm sorry, my prince. He and the men...I'm sorry…"

Both brothers slumped and were they not already standing he wasn't sure they'd have been able to. Before he knew it he was following after them and though no words were spoken, he knew they soon would be and that they'd be angered ones. For now, though it was grief that led the way and that grief only became even more apparent when the two brothers looked upon the bodies of the men who had ridden with Brandon Stark and at his own.

"Who?" Ned Stark asked, his voice as cold as the North on a winter's day.

"Prince Aemon's men." he said to a glare from Benjen Stark.

"You're certain of this?" Ned asked and Howland shook his head.

"I brought a witness who named them as such, my prince." he said softly.

Was he though? Was Ned Stark a prince or was he their king now? He wasn't certain though he'd wager it was the latter. Robb Stark was the heir of the heir when Rickard was king, but he'd not been named as the Prince of Winter and so by the law was not Ned Stark their king? Faced with a green boy and a man that had led them in battle and won them a great victory, who would the North choose? More than that, faced with the threat of dragons, who would they seek to lead them? Robb Stark or his father? Was he to wager he'd name it as the latter and around the courtyard as news began to spread he could already see men look to Ned Stark as their king. He saw the Greatjon, Maege, Roose Bolton, and Rickard Karstark along with Galbart and Robett Glover. Howland only then giving thoughts to the other good and true men the North had lost along with their king. As they moved to him, he readied himself to speak only for Ned Stark to do it for him, his words those of a brother and a king.

"My brother and the men who rode out with him are dead. Killed by men we know not and just as my father and those who fought by his side, their bodies desecrated. I swear to each and every man here, on my oath as a Stark and a brother. I swear before the Old Gods themselves that the men responsible for this will feel pain before they leave this world. They'll know no peace or find no comfort and the Heart Trees will soak up their blood while they die slowly. For my brother, for those who rode with him and for blood and vengeance, I swear it." Eddard Stark said his voice carrying in the silence of the courtyard and his words were heard by all.

"My brother's words are mine own. For the king, for those who rode with, remember them and remember them well. "Benjen Stark said and Howland watched as both brothers held their hands up so all could see and cut their palms allowing the blood to drip to the ground, sealing their words in blood.

"The North Remembers." Ned Stark said as his blood dripped to the ground.

"The North Remembers." Benjen Stark repeated his own blood doing likewise.

"The North Remembers." Howland said as did each and every Northman in the Courtyard and he'd dare to say so did others who were not there.

Both Galbart Glover and his brother Robett cut their own hands, as did Rickard and Rodrik Ryswell and some of the men from the Mountain Clans who'd known and were mayhap kin to Theo Wull. How much blood soiled the courtyard from cut hands he knew not, but the Blood Oath had been sworn and none would rest until it was fulfilled, that he knew all too well as he cut his own hand.

The Conquest of Westeros XXXIII.

Governance of an Empire.

While the High Emperor's rule was absolute, the Empire was so vast that it was almost impossible for one man to control it all. Delegation was the only way it worked and so a High Council was formed to look after various different parts of the Empire's running. Governors were selected to stand in rule over the major cities and sub governors to rule over the minor ones or large regions and even small regions. It was not quite Westeros's Lords and Ladies all who swore to their own kings, but it was a distant cousin to that type of rule.

Each of the major cities governors was a Dragonlord in their own right and some had more than one dragon in their bloodline. House Targaryen had almost split during the Dance of Dragons and it had taken some time for the Blakcfyres to be both welcomed back into the Empire's embrace and to wish to be wrapped in its loving arms once more. The High Council itself was made up of some of the most powerful families in Volantis along of course with members of the House of the Dragon. Again here the High Emperor sat above all and his word was law, never to be challenged or questioned once it was spoken.

Prince Aemon had never sat the High Council though it was his right to do so, his brother Prince Aegon finding himself more at home amongst the political maneuvering that went on amongst those so close to power than the Dragonknight had ever wished to be. So it was left to Princess Rhaenys to take her brother's place and learn by their father's side, while the Dragonknight did what Dragonknights are oft wont to do. She learned those lessons well and when it came time for Westeros to swear itself to one man and one man alone, it was the princess and not the prince who decided what role each were to play.

A History of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

Highgarden 300 AC.

Willas Tyrell.

He dressed for the day ahead and made his way to the aviary before breaking his fast, keen to spend some time alone with his thoughts and amongst the peace that he always found with his hawks. There was much to think about and he knew it would be a long and trying day, just as each day had been since his grandmother had sent the raven to Dragonstone. Awaiting a reply that was so key to their future kept them all on edge. He and his grandmother most of all since it was they who were mapping out that future while others played differing roles in seeing it come about.

Margaery had ensnared the King completely, his sister was happy enough with her husband and though he knew she'd wished for the crown even more than the man, she was more than willing to give it up if it kept their house strong. Her husband was a proud and young man though and young proud men sought glory and so he'd tasked Garlan and Loras to dissuade him from that line of thinking. There would be no glory found against the Dragonknight and the only thing that Gwayne or they would find should they seek it, is death.

Garlan was far better in this regard than Loras, as his youngest brother could at times be a fool and dreamt of his own glory on the battlefield. It had taken a slap to his head, literally, from their grandmother to make him understand that despite the size of the Reach and the army it could call upon, there was no winning this war. Willas still sighing when he thought about the foolish plan that Loras had about sneaking up on the dragons and killing them while they rested. Were it the prince and the princess that he'd now found out was the prince's wife, then mayhap it would be interesting, but alas his brother was not that clever and it was the dragons that flew that he sought to kill.

As he entered the aviary and set about feeding the hawks and their Eyas's he smiled as he thought about how his grandmother had clipped Loras around the ear as if he was an errant child. After she'd done so then he himself had explained the reality of what he was suggesting and how it would end badly for them, and even more so should they be successful. The true might of the Empire would quickly be brought down about their heads and not one member of their house or family would survive by the time they were finished with them.

"They would end us all, root and stem, Loras. Grandmother, mother and father, Margaery, Garlan, you and me. Each of our aunts, cousins, their husbands, wives, and children, none would be left alive when they were done. Not our keeps, not our men, not the entirety of the Reach could stand against them, that's what your fool of an idea would bring upon us, Loras. All that avails would be flight and who can fly further and faster than a dragon?" Willas said.

It had worked, he believed it had at least as his brother spoke no more about killing dragons and while he was sure he still spoke about facing them in some vain attempt to beat them in battle, he did so far more quietly. Others in the Reach did not. Randyll Tarly was a proud and stupid man who looked at numbers and named both the dragons themselves and those who rode them as overblown and overrated. There were brave and foolish knights, stupid lords who wished to hold onto what they had and didn't understand that to fight risked it all. Some he'd brought round to his way of thinking, others it would need the dragons themselves to do so. Should these proud men choose to fight and should they not kneel, then they'd do so alone.

He fed his prized hawk the fresh meat and stroked her feathers while enjoying feeling their softness. She was the queen of the skies or at least had been until the dragons had arrived on their shores and even she knew sometimes it was better to accept food from another's hand. A cage could be gilded and while confining there were opportunities too and though some were already taken from them, the prince's marriage had seen to that, some were not. Willas had convinced his grandmother not to seek Margaery as a second bride for the prince, despite the advantage that would bring. Instead to look to the future more and think of children to come.

"My lord, your grandmother wishes you to join her." a guard said taking him from his thoughts and Willas nodded as he hurried to join his family and break his fast.

It had taken them some time to gather as much information as they could about the Dragonknight. Willas reading through every little snippet studiously as he tried to sort the truth from the lies. Trying to judge the myths from facts or tales and he was sure that more of what he read was true than not. There was little reason to lie when the truth would suffice and those in Essos who'd faced Prince Aemon and his men and had lived to speak of it, spoke of it often enough. Tales of the Blood Wyrm and what it could and would do were only less chilling and thought-provoking than the tales of the man who was feared maybe even more than the dragon that he rode upon.

One tale that had taken the longest time to reach them though was one that made him glad he'd told his grandmother not to make the request of the second marriage. An exile for a love that you'd not give up is not something that would be given or accepted lightly. That said love followed after you and was now your wife, that was not a man who'd be willing to share his life with another. Had they reached out to him earlier, before the princess had arrived then who knows? But now that path was closed to them and it was to the future that they would need to look.

He never made it to the room where his family was breaking their fast, Left was waiting for him as soon as he entered the keep and he was immediately brought to his grandmother's chambers. With a nod to Right who stood at the door, Willas entered to find his grandmother sitting at her desk, the note she held in her hand and the look she gave him enough to tell him why he'd been summoned so abruptly.

"They answered." he said taking a seat and looking to the note.

"Read." his grandmother said as she handed it to him.

Willas needed no second invitation, truth be told he was keen to see what it said himself and as he looked at it he found himself almost in a state of disbelief. If this was true and he had no doubts it was, then they hadn't just made the right move, they'd made the only one. Hard enough as it would have been to face Prince Aemon and his own men along with the dragons, he'd just added a force that on its own would be a difficult one for them to subdue.

"The Vale," he said almost whispering "How?" he asked though who his question was aimed at he knew not as he read the note again.

Lady Olenna,

My husband and I would be most pleased to meet with the Reach and its king and are willing to discuss the terms of your entry into our kingdom just as we did with the Lords of the Vale who march by our side this very day. In one moon we'll meet you at Tumbleton where terms will be offered but not negotiated upon. That you have reached out to do so before we looked your way stands you in good stead and you may find more favor than those who've not. Look to the Empire my lady, see how our friends and allies are treated, and look to those who stood against my husband and what befalls them and know we wish you to be the former as it seems so do you yourself.

My husband and I look forward to speaking to you and your king and queen in person, to a happy conclusion to our talks, and to a future that we can help build together.

Queen Rhaenys Targaryen The First of her Name.

Looking to his grandmother he was surprised to see the smile on her face, not that they'd not gotten the outcome that she'd intended but because of the surprising news regarding the Vale. It took him a few moments to understand why she was wearing that smile and when he did he wore one too. Those who doubted this as the right course of action would soon be shown the folly of that line of thought and as he rose to his feet and his grandmother looked at him curiously, he knew she'd be smiling even more truly after he left.

"I'll get his grace to call the banners, some at least. I believe Lord Tarly will be most keen to ride, grandmother." Willas said and his grandmother nodded.

"That he will, send your sister to me will you, we've much to discuss."

"Of course, grandmother." he said as he walked from the room, his steps more purposeful as they'd be leaving Highgarden very soon and leading an army when they did so, though one for show and not to fight.

Volantis 300 AC.

Aegon.

He enjoyed having his uncle and cousins here and Dany seemed more than pleased to have some girls her age to speak to. His aunt missed Rhaenys greatly as did he and though she was not short of friends, as a princess she was treated differently and so she enjoyed being with people who did not defer so much. Both his father and mother, however, had very different opinions on Oberyn's visit, the politics of it, and what it truly meant being the reasons no doubt. While he agreed with them, he wished so much for it to be as a family that they enjoyed his time here.

Talisa had always gotten on well with Ellaria and to see the two in deep conversation was something he welcomed as was his own with his cousins. Though far too soon it was over and the night had come to an end. When his uncle asked him to join him on the morrow, Aegon had agreed even though he knew what their topic of discussion would most likely be about. It was with thoughts of this that he headed to his rooms with Talisa and his wife thankfully refrained from asking him about them until they were alone. Though once they were she waited no more.

"Your uncle is here about Aemon isn't he?" Talisa said as she undressed, Aegon torn from taking his own clothes off or watching as she removed hers, the latter winning out.

"He is, I believe he's spoken to father and mother already, so no doubt it'll be me and then Vis who are next on his list before moving to the High Councillors." Aegon said as one of his wife's breasts came into view.

"You really think he'd speak to the councillors?" Talisa asked curiously.

"After what I and Vis say to him, I do yes." he said as she turned from him, the sight of her back though wasappealing nor as delightful as the sight of her breasts were or at least not until her peach of an arse came into view.

"Does he really think anyone can get Aemon to stop what he's doing?" Talisa asked moving to the bed, Aegon hurriedly taking his clothes off to join her and seeing the glint in her eye at his eagerness to do so.

"I understand what he wishes, truly. Dorne is a proud land and a land that my uncles have ruled over without interference until now." Aegon said and Talisa looked at him more keenly, though whether it was because of the sight of his almost naked body that was the reason or the words that he spoke he knew not.

"Yet if Aemon wishes it he'll take it will he not?" Talisa asked confidently knowing the answer already no doubt.

"Oh, Aemon wishes it. My brother didn't accept his exile lightly." he said knowing Aemon's mind on this long before most had.

His brother had been denied the one thing that he truly wished for and while he'd never fight against their father or go against his orders, he'd never accept being told he couldn't have the woman he loved. Had Rhaenys not denied him when he left, then Westeros would now already be under Aemon's control. Her reluctance and unwillingness to go against their father's wishes had bought the Seven Kingdoms almost two years, with her by his side, it would buy them no more. Aemon would not let any man rule over him again and then next time he met their father he'd be a king in his own right, of that Aegon was certain.

"Come to bed, my love." Talisa said seductively and for the rest of the night, it wasn't Aemon, Rhaenys, or even Oberyn that his mind was full of, only his wife.

When he woke he broke his fast with Talisa and his family and watched as she, Ellaria, and his youngest cousins went to spend the day together while Dany and the older girls did likewise. With a nod to his father and kiss to his mother's cheek, he joined Oberyn and Viserys as they made their way through the Grand Palace and after bidding one uncle goodbye for the day, he and the other made their way to the stables and to the horses that awaited.

"Ready to fly on a dragon, uncle?" he japed as he climbed up on his horse's back.

"Never and always, nephew." Oberyn said with a chuckle and they began their ride to the Dragonpit.

It was one he enjoyed immensely, Oberyn keeping things light and amusing and speaking nothing about Aemon other than his marriage to Rhaenys. Aegon was keen to hear how his sister was doing and to hear how happy she was, something that Oberyn said more than once much to his joy. If Rhaenys was happy then so was Aemon and Aegon had always only wished the best for both of them. Aemon was his rival to be sure, the things he could do were beyond Aegon but then as his brother had often told him, "So are the things you do in regard to me, brother mine" theirs was a friendly rivalry if at times one that got out of hand.

He never doubted his brother's love for him nor his own for his brother and both of them loved their sister fiercely and truly, if very differently. Aegon knew that should the Empire call or should he need his brother's assistance then Aemon would come. It was something he never had a doubt about, despite what the High Council may think. Nor had he ever doubted that when his own time came to sit their father's seat, that Aemon would have been his most Leal supporter. As they reached the Dragonpit he wondered if his uncle was about to try and tell him that he would not. If he was about to paint his brother as a threat to his future as others had tried to do for many a year.

"Caraxes." he said softly as he climbed down off his horse and saw the green dragon waiting for him.

"How do they always know, nephew?" Oberyn asked with a large smile on his face as he looked to Caraxes.

"We are bonded him and me, he knows what I wish long before I do and today I wish to fly." he said as he moved to Caraxes's head and looked into his deep violet eyes, the dragon trilling under his touch as he brushed his forehead against its own.

Within moments both he and Oberyn were on Caraxe's back and then in the blink of an eye, they were in the air and flying over the city. They weren't alone as Nightwing soon joined them, his aunt's dragon always eager to be part of a flight, and were it not for what he was doing here today then he'd have asked her to join him. For more than two hours they flew over the city, Aegon enjoying the flight far more than he'd expected and yet not keen to go beyond the city for some reason. Eventually, he felt Caraxes's hunger, and the choice was taken from him. The dragon heading out beyond the city and out over the bay, and Aegon enjoying Oberyn's gasp when his dragon saw the whale and let loose its flames.

Rarely did they stay on their dragons while they ate, yet today for some reason he felt a need to and so he waited until Caraxes had eaten his fill and the remainder of the whale was then lifted from the water and carried back to the Dragonpit for others to enjoy. When they landed and he saw Nightwing and Tessarion his uncle's dragon both land too, he thanked his dragon on their behalf and he and Oberyn made their way to their horses though didn't mount.

"Speak your mind, uncle, here you may do so freely but elsewhere you may not." he said turning to Oberyn who nodded.

"Your brother seeks conquest." Oberyn began and Aegon was pleased he'd name him as such, he'd not done so when he'd first met Aemon and neither he nor Rhaenys had accepted him being called theri half brother "He seeks that which is not his to take." Oberyn added.

"As all conquerors do, uncle."

"Dorne is a free land, nephew. We seek no conflict with your brother, nor do we seek to be conquered or brought into a united kingdom that we've no wish to be a part of." Oberyn said his voice rising a little at the last part as his true feelings became clear.

"Nor do any who are conquered, uncle. Yet what is it you wish of me that my mother and father haven't given you?"

"An ally, nephew. A voice to speak for our interests." Oberyn said and Aegon shook his head.

"Against my brother's? My sister's? Even were it something I'd do, which it's not, I have no power to force Aemon to do my will." Aegon said meaning each and every word, he had no desire to tell Aemon what to do and couldn't do so had he such a desire.

"You'll be High Emperor one day." Oberyn said and Aegon chuckled.

"Not only is that many years in the future and Dorne will have knelt or been brought to its knees long before then. But one High Emperor couldn't get Aemon to do as he wished, what makes you think another could?" Aegon said before adding "You know the truth of Aemon, uncle. The things he's done in the Empire's name, Caraxes is a fine dragon, as are Nightwing, Tessarion, and Arrax and yet I doubt any are a match for Gaelithox and even all together would mayhap not be enough, certainly not once Meraxes joined the fight." he said hoping his words hit home.

It took him a moment to realize that his words may sound as if he may consider stepping in on Dorne's behalf or as if he'd thought of it, which he had not and so he decided to be more clear.

"Do you know of my brother's namesake? The first Aemon the Dragonknight. Have you heard the tale of him and Empress Naerys?" he asked and Oberyn shook his head.

He told him the tale of how the High Emperor had sought to shame his sister-wife and name her son as their brother's bastard. How the Dragonknight had flown from the war he was fighting in and had cut down any man who stood in his way and threatened the High Emperor himself for daring to shame their sister so. From that day on no one named Daeron as anything but true and no one dared speak ill of Naerys lest Aemon found out.

"You want to know what my brother thinks of his namesake, uncle?" he asked as he smiled at the memory and Oberyn nodded "That he was a fool, a weak man who gave up the woman he loved because he would not fight for her. Father may have exiled Aemon, but make no mistake, uncle, he left only because Rhaenys willed it so. Had she said that she wished to be his wife and father had continued to refuse them leave to wed, then Aemon would not have left so peacefully or so easily. Stand between my brother and what he wants and there is nothing he will not do and no force strong enough to stop him. Not even a High Emperor can see it done." he said firmly.

"So you'll not stand with family, nephew?" Oberyn asked though there was no bite or accusation in his tone.

"Always, but Aemon and Rhaenys are my blood and I stand with them above all." he said and Oberyn nodded.

Oberyn stayed for another week, as he'd suspected he spoke to Viserys and to members of the High Council, though he seemed to be just going about the motions and didn't do so with any great intent. His mother told him that her brother was doing Doran's wishes and he'd already come to the conclusion that he'd be bringing back to Doran and to Dorne. Kneel or be brought to your knees, for the Empire had already chosen its side in this war and its side was the one that would win.

Casterly Rock 300 AC.

Jaime Lannister.

They had marched to war they'd not fought in, his father had simply turned their army around and marched them back to the West. Tyrion had explained it to him and yet he'd not truly understood it. From where Jaime sat nothing had changed from when they'd started their march to when it had ended and so he couldn't comprehend why his father was so willing to lose face in such a way. Even when news came in about what Prince Aemon had done he still felt it made no difference. They knew he was capable and that his dragon was powerful, yet still they marched, so why now retreat?

It wasn't until they reached the Rock itself that he began to understand. Other news having reached them by then and none of it good. The North beating the Hoares so comprehensively and something about the Vale joining with Prince Aemon that made little or no sense and then even worse for his father's plans, the Mountain's mistake. He had told him not to send the brute to do the task, that it needed someone far more clever than he and while he'd volunteered and had already killed one king, his father had set it so far in motion that he'd not been able to play his part in the capture of another.

At first, he'd thought the news good, Brandon Stark dead was a good thing was it not? If his father's death was then surely the son's was too? Or so he'd thought. Yet his own father had ranted and raved and even The Mountain had withered under the force of his father's gaze. Whatever plan he had in mind for Brandon Stark was now in tatters as was their plan to join Robert Baratheon, bring in the Reach or catch the dragon unawares. It was only that they'd not actually fought in this war that meant they'd not already lost it as mistakes such as the ones they'd made would have ended them if they had.

Jaime was out of his depth in the strategy of such a campaign and far preferred the simplicity that a battle offered. He believed that faced with the Dragonknight and with a sword in his hand he could end the threat he posed. That he'd win not only the safety of his family and his house with such a victory but he'd win a place in the songs and tales that were yet to be written about this war. There was no man who could match him with a blade in hand, no man who came close and so he pondered on how to make it so. Yet this too was beyond him and so it was to Lannisport and his brother that he went only to find that Tyrion too was as lost and confused as he.

"Brother, have a seat." Tyrion said as Jaime entered the tavern.

"You're drunk." he said to a loud laugh.

"My brother is most astute but no you're wrong, I'm not nearly drunk enough. Innkeeper, more wine." Tyrion shouted loudly.

He was not a huge drinker and so he sipped on his own while Tyrion poured glass upon glass and drank it all down far too quickly.

"You wonder why I'm drunk? What ails me?" Tyrion said and Jaime nodded and so his brother continued "That our wise and clever father is a fool, and we've been outplayed at each and every turn, Jaime. That and knowing that as of yet, we've not even been in the same game."

"What do you mean?" he asked not understanding and again hating that he did not.

"The Dragonknight has not yet looked our way, not for true, brother. The moves he's taken have caught our beloved father by surprise and yet the Dragonknight has been making them against others and not us." Tyrion said perplexed.

"So that's a good thing, is it not?" Jaime asked.

"Not knowing that he'll look our way soon enough it's not." Tyrion said before drinking down his wine.

Jaime ended up drinking his own down just as quickly as Tyrion explained more. He listened as his brother spoke of how each plan their father made had achieved little or nothing. Even when Jaime had tried to argue about his killing of Rickard Stark, Tyrion had dismissed its importance. Instead telling him that one day they'd face a reckoning because of that and it was one he feared none of them would live through. It was morose, despairing and he put it down to the drink and not what his brother truly thought. They were the Lions of the Rock and not even dragons were as fierce as they. That's what he told his brother and though it brought a smile to Tyrion's face and made him laugh, it was not for the reason he had hoped it would be.

Later as he helped Tyrion back to the Rock his brother told him some of his father's other plans. A marriage between them and the Baratheon's, Myrcella for Robert or Jason or Tommen for the Princess Shireen. Jaime looking at his brother incredulously as the thoughts of Myrcella with Robert Baratheon or even his son with Shireen were abhorrent to him. Robert was a brute and Jason deserved better than a simple-minded doe. The Reach he could agree to, the Stormlands he would not. When Tyrion then said they should kneel and bide their time he'd been lucky that he'd fallen to sleep just after or he and his brother may have shared strong words this night. Instead, he'd slept drunkenly and Jaime had him brought to his rooms while he made his way to his own.

The next morning he broke his fast with his family and then sparred with the boys and put them through their paces. Later that day he found himself alone with his brother once more and found out his father's latest plan, it was one that again he didn't understand or comprehend and one that Tyrion never truly tried to explain. His brother instead telling him that he was being sent on a fool's errand to Braavos of all places and at least he'd get a chance to enjoy the favors of the famous Black Pearl as that was all this trip would accomplish.

"Father must have a plan, brother." he said almost hopefully.

"A stupid and idiotic one. Why seek help in Essos? who there will go against the dragons? As for the Iron Bank, I know not who this Baelish fellow is but they are not powerful enough to go against the Empire." Tyrion said annoyedly.

"Aemon is not the Empire, brother." Jaime said almost smugly.

"No he's not, but I'll find nothing in Braavos other than perhaps a courtesan's company, that I know." Tyrion said and Jaime was surprised his brother was so annoyed by the task and the journey.

It wasn't until days later that he considered the reason for that. While his father had sent a decent guard with him, but should things go badly or should the Empire or even Aemon himself find out, they'd not be enough. Their father may have sent Tyrion to his death or at least put him in a position where it could happen and Jaime liked it not. Not that he could do anything about it, though if his brother was harmed then it would not just be the man who did so that he'd see was made to pay, but the man who sent him to harm too. Even though that man was his own father.

The Trident 300 AC.

Aemon Targaryen.

He never enjoyed killing a man, not even a fool like Robert Baratheon, though he at times welcomed their deaths and what they meant. Was it someone who'd acted against him or who'd cost him his own men's lives then he'd welcome their deaths too. Someone who disrespected his family or worked against their interests, they too he'd been happy to see dead and more so if it was by his own hand. Still, he'd never enjoyed it and despite Baratheon bringing this onto himself with all the letters and annoyance he'd caused him since he'd arrived in Westeros, and to Aurane even more so than he, he'd not enjoyed killing the man.

What he did enjoy was seeing his men unhurt, seeing all of them had come through their fights just as he had expected them to. He enjoyed seeing Torgho Nudho take down Ser Elbert Arryn after the fool had tried to backstab him. Aemon had seen him coming and had known from his movements just what he intended and in time he'd have taken him down himself, but Torgho Nudho had done it for him and Aemon had most enjoyed seeing Ser Elbert fall. As he did seeing that Stannis Baratheon lived still, the man was someone he felt he could work with far better than either of his brothers.

"Thank you, my friend." he said moving to Torgho Nudho and clasping his arm with his own.

"You are unhurt, my prince?" Torgho Nudho asked and Aemon nodded.

"We were victorious yet again, my friend." he said and he enjoyed seeing the small smile on his sworn shield's face.

"As this one knew we would be." Torgho Nudho said simply and directly as was his style.

Aemon looked to see who else if any had lived on Robert's side. Marwyn was treating Ser Barristan and Ser Rolland Storm sat unarmed and unhurt though given he had faced Thoros's fiery blade that was not a surprise. Ser Richard, Ser Godry, and Lord Jon Connington would breathe no more and Aemon mourned them not. Three from seven and one of those only because he'd willed it so, he moved to Arthur and the others and heard the dragons land long before he saw them. Aemon barely getting a chance to speak to any of them before Rhaenys grabbed him and almost dragged him away.

"I'm unharmed, Rhae, truly." he said as her eyes roamed over his body and checked him inch by inch which brought a smile to his face.

"This is not funny, Aemon Targaryen." she said her annoyance clear and he chuckled before kissing her to stop her from harming him herself.

"I know, it's done, Rhae we have two of seven and we've not fought a battle for true." he said and she looked at him and nodded.

"Three if what Lady Olenna says is true." she said and then he kissed her again.

Taking her by the hand he walked to the dragons to speak to Gaelithox and let him know he was unhurt and then moved to Marwyn and Stannis who was coming round from the knock that Torgho Nudho had struck to his head.

"Marwyn?" he asked needing no more than that for the Mage to get his meaning.

"My prince." Marwyn said with a small bow of his head "Both men shall recover, my prince. Ser Barristan will need some days to rest while Prince Stannis will feel some pain in his head for a little longer but no other ill effects." Marwyn said and Aemon looked to the parchment that stuck out from the Mage's pack.

"Your words?" he asked pointing to the parchment.

"Preserved for posterity, my prince." the mage replied happily and Aemon moved to Stannis who was looking at him and around for Robert.

"Your brother has fallen, Prince Stannis. I'll give you and your men the night to mourn him and prepare his body for whatever ceremony you deem is needed. Ser Richard Horpe, Ser Godry Farring, and Lord Jon Connington breathe no more and they too will need to be attended to. Ser Rolland can escort you back to your men while Ser Barristan will need further treatment and so he'll be escorted back to where he can get it." he said looking directly at Stannis who seemed saddened by the news and not yet angered by it.

"We expect you to live up to your brother's agreement, Prince Stannis. On the morrow, you and the Lords of the Stormlands will kneel and you'll be named as Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, and from then on your men will be ours to call upon when we wish." Rhaenys said and Stannis nodded reluctantly but truly Aemon felt.

"It will be done, your grace. My brother?" Stannis asked before clarifying "Renly, I speak of."

"Will be released and returned to the Stormlands once you've knelt, Prince Stannis, he has not been harmed or mistreated, and other than a few bruises when he was captured, no man of mine has laid hands upon him." Aemon said and he saw the relieved breath that Stannis took.

With that he and Rhaenys turned and made their way back to the others, Aemon quickly sending for a cart to carry Ser Elbert's body and Ser Barristan to their camp and readying the words he would say to Lord Jon, Ser Denys, and the others. In a way, this was the best possible result as he had no faith that Ser Elbert would have been anything but an annoyance and inconvenience that would have needed to be dealt with some time in the future. At least this way it was over and done with and the man had shamed himself in his death, something he could use should it needed to be. It took some time for the horses to be readied and when Arthur himself helped Ser Barristan to the cart both Aemon and Rhaenys looked to each other.

"He respects him." Rhaenys said as they set off to ride and Aemon didn't have to speak to Arthur to know that was true.

"More than can be said for him." Aemon said as Daario and Thoros threw Ser Elbert's body onto the cart a moment later.

Had it been up to his men then they'd have left his body to rot on the ground. All of them knew what Ser Elbert had tried to do and it was only that Torgho Nudho had moved quickest of all or it would have been an Arakh, sword, or a flaming blade that had ended his life. Aemon hoped that the watching Vale knights had seen enough to know what had happened and when they finally reached the camp it was to find out that they had.

Marwyn was helped by some of the Unsullied and Arthur to place Ser Barristan in the tent and with full access to his supplies, he was now in a far better position to heal the man while Aemon and Rhaenys moved to their own. His wife made him eat and drink something before he spoke to the men of the Vale and readied for the next steps in his plan. From here it would be to Harrenhal, the show of force hopefully would be enough to gain them the keep rather than having to take it. Though he felt it would require some sort of an attack to do so.

The Westerosi were a proud people and while some understood the benefits of kneeling or at least understood what he could do to them should they not, others would not be so easy to fall to their knees. So far he'd gotten far luckier than he had hoped. He'd taken the Vale by stealth and speed with a little shock and awe thrown in courtesy of the Blood Wyrm. Yet its own internal politics had played just as big a part as anything he'd done. If Rhaenys was right, which she usually was, then the Reach wished to kneel rather than fight and he'd just taken the Stormlands with little to no effort. Dorne, The West, and The North could all be trickier and more bloody affairs and that two of those were against kin was something he felt angered and annoyed about. They'd been the ones he'd hoped would kneel first and now he wondered what it would take to bring them to their knees.

"Aems eat." Rhaenys said and he smiled at her as he took a bite out of the bread and ate a little of the meat before washing them both down with some water.

At least she was here with him and able to stop his mind from concentrating on war and war alone. Harrenhal, Harrenhal, and from there he'd take stock and see what move he'd make next. He'd reassess the board and decide what game he wished to play and how he was going to win that game. Aemon had no doubts that he would, no worries that he'd bitten off more than he could chew. The only concern he had was just how far he'd have to go before the war was done and what would she think of him should he be forced to wake the dragon that had slept thus far.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. So the best-laid plans of mice and men truly is a thing, I finished TDC and assumed that I'd have so much time on my hands only for my boss to come down with covid and the free time to disappear, so sorry this is later than expected. Up Next, Oberyn Says goodbye to Volantis after a conversation with a prince and some councilors and with a warning from Rhaegar in his ears. Aemon and Rhaenys accept Stannis's fealty and their combined army marches to Harrenhal to take the great keep. Olenna meets with some reluctant lords and the Reach begins its own march while in Riverrun news of Aemon's movements brings calls for justice and vengeance that Ned finds hard to deny. We take a look in the North at the rule of a prince and in Volantis Dany makes a choice that sends the House of the Dragon spinning and brings more dragons to Westeros.

Leonel: Aemon has different plans for Harrenhal as unlike canon there is no Harren to beat and the IB are already defeated. Hope you enjoyed the fights and I updated Daemon before I got to reply to you, so hope you enjoyed it.

Celexys: So glad you felt that, I think sometimes multi perspectives are really needed to flesh out the world and it's my preferred way of doing so, rather than give a single perspective all the time. Hope you liked the fight.

Picking up Story: This will be going weekly, either from this update or certainly by the next.

Uncle Dork: I always had it in my mind to do the Trident in some form, so hope you liked it. Thanks for saying that about the Marwyn bits, I needed a way to put in some of the changed lore and not make it just info dumps and so the book idea allows for that.

Zyrus: It's kind of a great crack fic idea isn't it, set up this big fight and then simply end it with Stannis going, fuck this lol.

Guest: We've got some big Aemon/Rhaenys stuff upcoming after Harrenhal, a kind of slow down while they take stock and a moment for them to breathe almost. Soppy stuff perhaps but much needed and so I think chapter after next it'll be a lot of that.

Creativo: Realmente con la fe que están a punto de hacer su aparición y veremos que Aemon no tiene tiempo para ellos, había pensado en hacer algo con Mordane pero la guardaremos para más tarde.

Dunk: I think the biggest issue with Robert is if he doesn't like someone he can't/won't pretend. In canon, he's supposedly quite charming (during the Rebellion I mean) and wins friend's easily, but a bit like how he is when it comes to the Targs, he has this temper and line that he can't control and he doesn't suffer those who either deny him or he doesn't like. One theory I read once is that he only took the crown so people couldn't gainsay him anymore. Which kind of fits his character as he is a bit of a petulant child at times. Hell even with Ned, the moment he went against him, he almost threw their friendship away in Robert's eyes. To me he seems the kind of person that were you his friend, you'd fall out with over and over and then forgive. With Ned I wanted to show the difference, no Vale has changed him and he clings more to the North, hope you enjoyed the fight.

I think so too with Doran, in some ways I'm showing Olenna here as the anti-Doran in that she's looking at things far more clearly, Oberyn is torn because yes Doran is his brother but Elia is his sister, and where it may be Aemon alone then he'd be far more on Doran's side, with Rhaenys he sees them as being wrong perhaps. I had thought of using a Tywin pov here but went with Tyrion and so we'll see Tywin's thoughts in a bit, he's a little lost at the moment.

Xpotter: This one is a little inspired by The Conquest by Dolorous Edditor , s/12409576/1/The-Conquest. I had thought of doing this story similarly and having it be Rhaegar as King in Westeros and Jon exiled to Essos but decided to follow it a little more with my own changes. Unfortunately, that story isn't finished, but it's an interesting read all the same.

Supremus: But there is no use of magic in the entire thing with Brandon/Torrhen by the way Torrhen knelt and Brandon was the one who believed he could kill dragons. So maybe he was a warg and had a vision, or maybe he was a cocky proud northerner who believed himself more than he was, we can't know for sure only that his own brother didn't believe him. In another story, I had it that Torrhen knelt for a reason, that he saw was shown that Jon was the only one able to kill the NK and he knew he had to play his part.

This myth though that the North could hold out against dragons is simply that, yes in Winter they could, but they could be starved out and killed in spring. Summer. The Moat may keep out a southern army, their coasts are completely undefended as we see with the IB attacks. Kill enough people, kill the right people and the North would fall, kneel, break and bend as would Dorne. Dorne held on, but was also conquered by a man with no dragon, or don't you remember Daeron? Eventually, you get to the time where you can't fight anymore, all it takes is the will of those you fight against. What does Dorne do if Doran is dead? What would they have done in canon if princess Meria Martell had fallen? What do the North do if all the Starks are killed?

I know some people build the North up as this unconquerable place, it's very much not. With dragons it's done for because with Dragons you can burn the keeps, so where do the Northmen live with no buildings to give them warmth? How do they survive if food is cut off from them? And how can they washstand an attack by an army and dragons? They lose the Moat, which means they can't keep the army out, they can't hide behind their walls because of the dragons so they need the weather to save them, well that's fine and dandy, but the weather changes and it's not always winter. Same in Dorne, they can run, hide but they too can be starved out, burned out, and killed off, it just takes the will to do so.

Robert is not canon Robert, he's 17 years older and hasn't fought a true fight for most of his life, Aemon has been fighting for the past eight years and is a far better swordsman than Rhaegar ever was. Rhaegar almost had Robert beat, his unwillingness to kill him cost him his life, Aemon has no unwillingness and far more talent, you may think Robert is a great warrior but had he faced Arthur Dayne that day he'd be dead. At Harrenhal he lost the melee to Yohn Royce, he's not as great as people say he is. I don't mean to insinuate you're a Targ hater and I hope my words here don't come across as me being too harsh, it's not my intent. I just think sometimes people look at Dorne/North with rose-tinted glasses and forget the reality of the situations both kingdoms are in.

Jaimerey: Estoy seguro de que he visto algo así, o tal vez lo he soñado jajaja. Sin embargo, gracias por la idea, lo pensaré un poco.

Keb: So glad you're liking him, we'll be seeing a lot more of him now he's the LP of the Stormlands. The Lyanna stuff is coming, we need a couple of moments to occur first and one we're getting close to, namely a certain white wolf making his appearance. You weren't far off with your prediction for the fight. I didn't want to do a battle and the Trial by Seven just seemed a better more interesting way of doing this.

Frenchwhitefox: Thanks so much, I've seen a couple of not united Westeros stories, but few that go this way and so felt it was unique enough to try it out.

Suryamgang: For now this is every two weeks but will be going weekly.

Guest71: Thanks so much. I work from home testing computer products and scanning systems, so a lot of time my work is ongoing yet I don't have to actually physically do anything and am left waiting until a program runs through before then having to fix or start again. Since it's unsupervised I spend my time writing while I wait and so for an eight-hour day I'd get maybe five hours writing, while still doing my job. Not that I write all five hours, but I could if I wished.

With the IB, you still have Prince Harren so there may be some IB goodness to come. But as of yet, they're not even truly on Aemon's radar and with the joining of the Reach he'd get the Redwyne's too, also the North has a bigger fleet than canon. Euron will be just as Euron is, we'll see him in a little while, the biggest issue he has is that with the Targs around the seas around Valyria are more patrolled. But he has set sail far and wide and so we'll see what that brings.

I will show Olenna's words, as Aemon will be looking them over before meeting with the Reach, won't say too much more than that. But the letters are more simple, it's the words said and unsaid when they meet that'll be more interesting. As for Gwayne, you can see here the Tyrell's a little at work, Marge, Loras, Garlan all working to Willas and Olenna's plans.

Robert is a bit arrogant, Aemon obviously is very much so. I don't think Robert was very smart, I could be wrong in that but I never considered him particularly clever, Stannis I believe was but deluded by Mel's words. So I've always been more of a Mannis fan and we'll see him a lot from here. The Trial by Seven I hope you enjoyed, it's hard to write a multiple pov fights and I didn't go overexploiting it, so I hope I didn't underexplain it too.

We'll see with Harrenhal, it'll be a few days after this fight so maybe you'll get your wish. Varys is more in tune with Rhaegar than anyone, the Blackfyres are part of the Empire and not against them so he doesn't have that grudge/desire. LF we'll see in a bit and Vis is next and man is he different lol. There will be at least one fight in Essos to come. Many dragons are involved as for Aemon burning a keep, hmm at the moment the Rock is looking the likeliest, at the moment that is.