Chapter Seventeen: Life Goes On

It took around an hour for Gregor and Dacey to assemble the secret council. However, only half of that time was spent searching for the other members. The other half was spent adding a new one.

Before they went to gather the others, Dacey pointed out how Gregor intended for the secret council to be represented by the nine regions of Westeros equally. Gregor was the only one of the ten who could be totally impartial; the other nine spoke exclusively for his or her homeland.

Although Dacey was a Northerner through and through, she argued that her new relationship with Gregor might cause her to develop a bias in his favor. That would certainly complicate the integrity of the council's decision-making process.

Truthfully, Gregor had thought much the same. Thankfully, he already had plans to rectify that problem. The solution to the dilemma was quite simple; he elected to bring another Northerner into the fold.

Dacey would remain on the secret council. From then on, she would speak for both the Legion without Banners and the North. However, she would not be the official spokesperson for the North. That duty would go to the new recruit.

Gregor had already chosen who that person would be. The individual in question was Smalljon Umber, eldest son of Greatjon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth.

Smalljon had joined the Legion a few months beforehand. When first he came, he implied that he would only be there for a short time. His original motive was that he just wanted to experience the lifestyle of a Legionnaire. Overtime, however, he found the lifestyle to be very rewarding and honorable. So he elected to stay on. He even claimed that he would be content to serve in the Legion until his father died. Which, he added, would hopefully not be for a long time.

Gregor and Dacey found Smalljon out in the camps that adjoined the feasting grounds. He was breaking his fast with his father and their retainers. Most of the men seemed very hungover. However, neither the Greatjon nor his son were. To some, that may have been strange. Both of them had drunk plenty at the feast, yet they were as sober as a septon.

Gregor was not surprised. Ae he recalled, Umbers were infamous for holding their alcohol. That was fortunate; he needed Smalljon to have a clear head right then.

When Gregor and Dacey approached the table, Greatjon stood up and greeted them exuberantly. Smalljon also greeted them, though not as boisterously. Words of congratulations were given to the new couple, and the words were accepted by the new couple graciously.

Before the pleasantries evolved into an actual conversation, Gregor singled out Smalljon and asked if he would accompany him and Dacey someplace. They were very vague in their request, but luckily for them, the heir to Last Hearth did not seem particularly curious as to their reasons for wanting to speak with him. He did not ask them any questions or for any specifics.

He simply needed a minute to clean his plate and drain his flagon of ale. Then he rose from his chair and followed the newlyweds back into Moat Cailin.

Once back inside the moat, Gregor and Dacey took Smalljon to a private room. There they apprised him of what was going on. They explained to him that Gregor had formed a clandestine task force. The task force's primary goal was the same as that of the Legion without Banners: to ensure the survival and ultimate unification of all Westeros. The difference was that the task force would accomplish this objective through more extreme methods.

When he asked for an example of the "methods," they filled Smalljon in on their recent business in the Vale.

They informed him that Lord Petyr Baelish's death had not been an accident. They confessed to Smalljon that their whole reason for going to the Vale was to assassinate Littlefinger. In fact, with the aid of Lord Varys, the task force had orchestrated the events leading up to the mockingbird's demise.

When they finished with their recollection, Smalljon appeared a little alarmed. But if he was, it was because he was intrigued, not because he was repulsed. He actually admired all the effort and care that was put into the operation to kill Baelish.

From a moral standpoint, Smalljon was relatively unfazed. He had heard the tale of how Baelish had fought a duel with Brandon Stark and lost badly. He felt the Wild Wolf had been too merciful. Smalljon was also aware of the false claims Littlefinger had made about taking the maidenheads of both of Hoster Tully's girls. That was enough to make him dislike Baelish. When he learned that the mockingbird had exploited Lysa Arryn and intended to seize power at the expense of those around him, that gave Smalljon assurances that Littlefinger had gotten what he deserved.

Gregor and Dacey were pleased by Smalljon's conviction. He seemed to share their ideals. That convinced them that he was the right person for the job.

It was there that Gregor and Dacey told Smalljon of a spot that had opened up on the secret council. With Dacey's marriage to Gregor, they argued that the North needed another representative. As such, they wished for Smalljon to occupy that position. Almost immediately, he accepted the proposition.

The trio subsequently travelled around the moat and located Lyn Corbray, Victarion Greyjoy, Garth Hightower, Osmund Kettleback, Gerion Lannister, Oberyn Martell, Allard Seaworth, and Brynden Tully. At the end of the hour, all eleven of them were assembled in the council chambers.

Gregor waited for his companions to sit down at the circular table. Once they were all seated, he took his place in the largest chair.

Victarion started the dialogue with a question: "So, who dies next?"

"That's not the subject of this meeting," Gregor replied candidly.

Allard Seaworth cocked his head and muttered "It's not?"

"No," Gregor disclosed, "Littlefinger was the only immediate threat to the security of Westeros. But I promise you; there will be others. In time, we will conspire to eliminate all of the most callous people in this country. Today, however, we will devote to unifying the country through a more passive method."

Gerion Lannister leaned forward and stated "What method would that be, my lord?"

Gregor did not reply right away. Instead, he slowly looked around at his colleagues. He studied each of their faces closely. All of them shared Gerion's curiosity and interest. That was a clear indication that he had their full attention.

Gregor folded his arms and declared "I believe that family is the strongest form of unity. It should be, in any case. I know there are some who would disagree. They'd be the ones who have persistent domestic problems. But they're a minority. The majority of the people in this country would agree that family should always come first. For that reason, the best alliances are those that are formed through marriage."

He paused for a moment, and then he drily commented "Of course, you already know that. Throughout the Seven Kingdoms, it's common knowledge that marriage is the start of many an alliance. But the scope and longevity of the alliance can vary, depending on the origins of the bride and groom."

At that, Gregor turned to Dacey and reached his hand out to her. Even she was uncertain what Gregor was doing, but she went along with her husband's act. So she tentatively took his hand in hers. As she did this, she smiled at him amorously. He smiled back, and then he looked around at the others nine men. As unprofessional as this display of affection may have been, they said nothing about it.

Gregor continued holding Dacey's hand, and he announced "For centuries, marriage has been used to strengthen all the houses in all nine regions of the realm. The majority of the marriages typically occur within each region; between the Great Houses and their vassals. There have been exceptions, though. Several of which were quite recent. Robert Baratheon wed Cersei Lannister. Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn wed Catelyn and Lysa Tully respectively. Stannis Baratheon wed Selyse Florent. Gregor Forrester wed Elissa Branfield. Doran Martell even wed Mellario of Norvos. And I, a Westerlander by birth, wed Dacey Mormont just last night."

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen also wed both Princess Elia Martell and Lady Lyanna Stark. But it's best not to mention that for… a multitude of reasons.

Dacey beamed with pride when Gregor made that last point. No one could blame her for looking so smug. After all, her marriage to the Mountain had solidified his status as a Northman, and it emphasized the range of House Mormont.

"Pardon my forwardness, my lord," Osmund Kettleback remarked, "But where are you going with this?"

Gregor gave a smug smirk and elucidated "Consider this: between the eleven of us, we have connections to all nine of the Great Families. All of those connections exist through blood, through marriage, or through both. I propose that we endeavor to establish similar connections between the Great Houses."

Dacey and the men seemed intrigued by that idea. Lyn Corbray stated assumingly "I believe I know where you are heading with this, my lord. You plan to use our connections to convince the Great Houses to join together. Ideally, this will be done by marrying their children to each other."

"Correct," Gregor affirmed. He then let go of Dacey's hand and pronounced "House Arryn and House Baratheon of Storm's End currently have no heirs to speak of. Not by their current lords, at any rate. Until recently, the same detriment applied to the Royal House Baratheon. Although King Robert now has a son, it is not our place to decide whom the crown prince will marry. That is the king's prerogative. So we shall disregard those three houses for now."

Half the people in the room gave a mere nod of acknowledgment to that point. The other half just sat still and listened.

Gregor continued with "Meanwhile, House Greyjoy, House Lannister, House Martell, House Stark, House Tully, and House Tyrell all have heirs of their own. Most of the heirs are relatively young. It is likely that their parents have yet to consider any marriage contracts for them. We should take advantage of that."

"What would you suggest?" Smalljon Umber inquired.

"Could we have an example?" Oberyn Martell questioned.

At that, Gregor turned to the Reachman in the room and called out to him "Garth."

"Yes, my lord?" Garth Hightower queried, leaning forward.

"How close are you to your second eldest sister?" Gregor asked.

Garth was a little stunned that such a personal question had been presented to him. Even so, he shrugged, smiled softly, and proclaimed "Truthfully, Alerie is probably my favorite sibling. Which says something; I have nine."

"That's fortunate," Gregor commented, also smiling, "As it happens, your favorite sibling is wed to your liege lord."

"That's true," Garth admitted, a note of perplexity in his tone.

Gregor then pointed out "As you're well-aware, Lord Mace and Lady Alerie have four children together."

"Indeed," Garth avowed, "Willas is ten, Garlan is nine, Loras is four, and Margaery is three."

Gregor gave another nod of acknowledgment and declared "Meanwhile, Lord Eddard Stark and his wife Lady Catelyn have a son and a daughter. Robb is three and Sansa was born just this year. Notice that Lord Robb is roughly the same age as Lady Margaery."

Immediately, Garth – and most of the others – knew where this was going. The Reachman presumed "So you suggest forging a betrothal between them?"

Gregor solemnly nodded in confirmation. He debated "Apart from the Legion without Banners, what do the North and the Reach have in common? The answer is almost nothing. All the same, they have much to offer each other. The North is easily the largest and hardiest of the Seven Kingdoms, but much of it is empty and desolate. At the same time, the Reach is the most productive – and probably most affluent – of the Seven Kingdoms, but outside its borders, it has very little standing or domain. A union between Winterfell and Highgarden could remedy both of their problems."

Garth sat thinking on those points for a minute. After that, he thought aloud "There is still some tension between the North and the Reach from Robert's Rebellion. The joining of House Stark and House Tyrell could extinguish that tension. Apart from that… I can see the rewards of such a union. It would be quite practical for a betrothal to be formed between Robb and Margaery."

"Would your sister consent to the match?" Gregor queried.

"If I suggested it to her, she would be open to it," Garth asserted, "However, I cannot guarantee she will agree to it."

"But you can convince her to at least consider it?" Gregor assumed.

"Certainly," Garth stated, "Alerie is not the one you should worry about, my lord. That would be Lord Mace Tyrell. My sister's husband is quite ambitious."

"I know," Gregor remarked, "It is no secret that Lord Mace would lunge at the chance to wed his daughter to the crown prince, just so his grandson would be king. Luckily, there is a factor that is outside of his control."

"What would that be?" Smalljon Umber asked.

"I've heard tell Alerie Tyrell's goodmother is just as ambitious as her husband," Gregor disclosed, "But unlike Lord Mace, Lady Olenna Tyrell has a better understanding of what is realistically within her grasp. And if what I've heard is true, she is the actual head of her house. So if we approach her instead of her son, there is a much greater likelihood that the betrothal will be taken seriously."

Garth thought on that, and then he rubbed his temple, saying "I cannot deny Lady Olenna's hold over Lord Mace. Even when her husband Lord Luthor was alive, she was the primary voice of authority in Highgarden. It is not without just cause that she is called the Queen of Thorns."

"A prickly woman," Oberyn Martell noted.

That earned a few scoffs from the others. Gregor paid the jibe no mind. He simply kept his gaze on the Reachman and proposed "As politically ruthless as Olenna Tyrell is, do you believe she can be swayed to consider the match between her granddaughter and Lord Stark's firstborn son?"

"Definitely," Garth Hightower pronounced, "My word may not carry much weight with her, but my experiences in the Legion would give credence to the matter. During my time at Moat Cailin, I have come to greatly respect the North and its inhabitants. Lord Eddard is an honorable man; a much better liege lord than the one I have. His son and my niece would make an excellent couple."

"Then what say we try to make the betrothal happen?" Gregor suggested.

Garth nodded once more, and he declared "After this meeting, I'll send a raven to Highgarden, detailing everything we discussed. Lord Mace may wish to refuse the proposal, but his mother and my sister are reasonable people. Again, I cannot promise the betrothal will be made, but it will be heavily considered."

"That is all I ask," Gregor asserted.

"Just a moment," Brynden Tully interjected, "Even if Highgarden agrees to the match, what assurance do you have Winterfell will, too?"

Gregor smirked and dryly responded "For that, I look to you, Ser Brynden."

The Blackfish raised an eyebrow and said "I'm afraid I do not understand."

Gregor leaned closer to the oldest man at the table and told him "I believe you are the most influential person in this room. You are the only one here who has a direct relation to three of the Great Houses."

"I am?" Brynden murmured, clearly bewildered.

Gregor elaborated with "Your nieces married into House Stark and House Arryn; your nephew is the heir of House Tully. Your brother's children tie you to the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands. Furthermore, you are on fair terms with all three of them. That implies you may have some amount of sway over them. So long as you do not abuse that sway, you have a voice in Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Riverrun. So there; you have three connections. No one else here can claim that."

That was a very accurate statement. As it turned out, Allard Seaworth, Osmund Kettleback, Lyn Corbray, Smalljon Umber, Dacey Mormont, and Gregor Clegane had no blood or marital ties to any of the Great Houses. Oberyn Martell, Garth Hightower, and Victarion Greyjoy each had ties to one Great House (House Martell, House Tyrell, and House Greyjoy respectively).

Technically, Ser Gerion Lannister had some degree of relation to three Great Houses, but only two of them – House Lannister and the Royal House Baratheon – were by blood. His connection to House Baratheon of Storm's End only existed because of his niece's marriage to the King. The connection was a very weak one, and not just because of how distant it was. Stannis Baratheon was not known for being very fond of his own family, so it was unlikely that he would bother listening to or negotiating with his family-by-law, either. Especially when said family-by-law were Lannisters.

If anything, of all the people in the council chambers, Allard Seaworth had the closest connection to the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, as his father Ser Davos Seaworth was one of Stannis Baratheon's most trusted vassals. All the same, Gregor knew it would be unwise to ask Stannis for too many favors, even if done through the Onion Knight's second son.

So Brynden Tully was the only one who had direct ties to three Great Houses. Additionally, his nieces and nephew had idolized him in their youth; they continued to adore and respect him in their adulthood.

Brynden rested his chin on his hand and remarked "I suppose I could be of assistance to you, Lord Gregor. Catelyn will listen to any wise counsel I give her. While Lord Eddard only wed her out of obligation, they have come to care for each other deeply. He even had a sept built in Winterfell for her. If I passed along the idea of a betrothal between my great nephew and Mace Tyrell's daughter to Catelyn, she can convince her husband to consider it, too. After all, Eddard married outside of the North. No reason his son cannot do the same."

"Would you mind sending a raven to Winterfell after we adjourn?" Gregor asked hopefully.

"I will do so," Brynden proclaimed, "But like Ser Garth, I cannot promise you that Lord or Lady Stark will agree to the match."

"I understand," Gregor asserted, "Worry not; all I ask if that you present the idea of the match to them. That by itself is acceptable."

At that moment, Gregor stood up and sternly announced "With that said, I must be clear on one point. There will be no forcing of betrothals upon the Great Families. None whatsoever. All we can do is give them recommendations and hope that they will agree to them. Other than bits of neighborly advice, we have no say in the contracts they actually make for their children."

"I very much agree with the notion," Gerion Lannister remarked.

"As do I," Garth Hightower declared, "It would do us no good to overstep our authority."

"Or our family bonds," Dacey Mormont added in.

Gregor was pleased that everyone understood the boundaries of their activities. What they were essentially doing was playing at matchmaker for the realm. They would contemplate ideal matches between the heirs of the Great Families based on political, economic, and social benefits to all involved parties, and then they would deliver those suggestions to the heads of the respective Great Houses. Once the suggestions were given, they would just wait for the Great Lords to make their decision.

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing various possible marriage contracts between the highborn children of the current generation in Westeros.

Gregor made the majority of the recommendations. Among the matches he proposed were ones between Quentyn Martell and Sansa Stark, between Garlan Tyrell and Arianne Martell, between Edmure Tully and Cerenna Lannister, and between Tyrion Lannister and Asha Greyjoy.

The match he had the most hope for was still the one between Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell. In his mind, they were perhaps the couple best-suited to govern the realm when neither the man nor the woman was Targaryen. All the same, he was certain that by the time the Long Night arrived, the Targaryens would be back on the throne. As long as Robb and Margaery could unite the North and the Reach, Gregor was content with that.

There were a couple matches Gregor thought to be appealing, but due to certain circumstances, he chose not to mention them. For instance, he contemplated a marriage contract between Willas Tyrell and Rhaenys Targaryen. Of course, other than Prince Oberyn, no one there knew that Princess Rhaenys was still alive. She and Lyanna Stark were still being hosted at Greywater Watch, and they would remain there until it was deemed safe to emerge from the Neck.

Unlike her brother and half-brother, Rhaenys was not being raised to believe she was someone else. While Aegon and Jon would be brought up thinking they were bastards, Lyanna would feed no such lies to Rhaegar Targaryen's eldest child.

Because of that, when Rhaenys was of age, Gregor could risk sending a messenger to Greywater Watch. Since her father was dead and her mother had no more part in her upbringing, Rhaenys had full say over whom she would wed. Even so, she would never forget her duty to her family and the realm. So she would be more than willing to consider wedding the heir to Highgarden.

Of course, Willas would have to wait a great deal longer to learn of this possible contract. Gregor believed he would be a good man. Still, there would be no safe way to present it to him without tipping off his father, his mother, or his grandmother. Although the Tyrells had supported the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, Gregor could not yet ascertain that they would support the dragons' return to Westeros. Until he knew where the Reach stood on that issue, he would keep the concept of a betrothal between Willas and Rhaenys to himself.

Near the end of the meeting, Lyn Corbray brought up a point that probably should have been addressed early on. When all eyes were on him, he contended "There is one severe limitation to all this scheming. Between all the Great Houses, there are at least two males to every female."

That captured everyone's interest. Smalljon Umber appeared baffled. He inquired "What does that mean?"

"What I mean is there are not enough female heirs to go around," Lyn clarified, "Even if you account for first and second cousins of the immediate heirs, there are still far more males."

"I'm not surprised that you were the one to notice that," Victarion Greyjoy scathingly murmured.

That incited a number of scoffs from the others. Lyn did not mind the slight. He just smirked and wryly retorted "An advantage of my 'preference.'"

"Actually, Ser Lyn is correct," Brynden Tully pointed out, "House Greyjoy and House Tyrell both have three male heirs and one female. House Stark and House Martell both currently have one apiece. House Tully's only available heir is male. House Lannister has more heirs than I care to count, most of them male. No offense, Ser Gerion."

"None taken, Ser Brynden," Gerion Lannister assured the older knight, grinning.

"This could be a problem," Osmund Kettleback muttered, "It may be the sons who inherit. But without the daughters, the sons are stuck with the inheritance."

"I'm assuming these 'sons' and 'daughters' you speak of are from different families," Oberyn Martell cockily remarked.

That drew a short round of laughter from around the table.

"Unless they're Targaryen," Smalljon Umber cheekily added in.

More laughter. After the last snicker faded away, Gregor declared "Luckily, there is still a potential solution to this dilemma."

He turned to the Dornishman and told him "A solution which you have the capacity to provide, Prince Oberyn."

"How might I do that?" Oberyn enquired curiously.

"You have five female bastards and counting," Gregor explicated, "If need be, we could petition the king to legitimize a few of your daughters. Then they would be just as suitable for marriage contracts as any trueborn children. It would not even out the ratio of free male to female heirs in the Great Houses straightaway, but it would go a long way to improving it."

"Yes, this a feasible approach," Oberyn admitted. He then grew a wicked grin and wittily claimed "However… there's a chance that only three of my daughters will be available for certain. It would appear your brother is already quite taken with my two eldest."

Most everyone there seemed either stunned or bewildered by that revelation. Gregor himself was a little surprised, but only because he did not entirely expect Oberyn to be aware of Sandor's interaction with Obara and Nymeria. As far as Gregor knew, only Ellyn and Lady Daliah had seen them together.

After a little silence, Gregor scoffed and muttered assumingly "So, you saw them together last night, too?"

"Oh, it did not start last night," Oberyn disclosed. When he saw the look of bafflement on the Mountain's face, the prince's grin lengthened and he proclaimed "You've been so preoccupied with arranging your wedding that you were blind to what other people have been up to, my lord. In the fortnight since your family arrived at Moat Cailin, Sandor has spent most of his waking hours with Obara and Nymeria, as have they with him."

"Is that right?" Gregor asked rhetorically.

Oberyn nodded his head, and Gregor rubbed his temple, evidently intrigued. He thought aloud "Peculiar. The first time I saw them all together was this morning in the training yard. They were having a friendly bout. Or what could pass as a friendly bout."

"Who was winning?" Oberyn queried eagerly.

"Hard to say," Gregor recounted, "He beat each of them separately, but when they teamed up, they managed to knock him on his ass. In any case, the fighting never became too heated between them. You may be interested to learn that that's the reason I called this meeting."

"You called this meeting because your brother and Prince Oberyn's daughters were having a swordfight?" Osmund Kettleback supposed.

"No, I called it because even in the midst of combat, my brother and the Sand Snakes clearly admired and respected each other," Gregor clarified, "Outside of the North and Dorne, women are not generally permitted to brandish weapons or adorn armor. Nor are they taken seriously as soldiers. The Westerlands in particular clings to that outdated view of women. Yet my brother Sandor has overcome that prejudice. Furthermore, Sandor is very competitive by nature, as are Obara and Nymeria Sand. One would think that facet would drive them apart. Instead, it has brought them together. That led me to think… if three quick-tempered non-Legionnaire strangers can find common ground through sparring, it is reasonable to assume that the rest of the realm can come together through more peaceable means."

"There is logic in that observation, my lord," Allard Seaworth admitted.

"Quite so," Garth Hightower concurred.

Victarion Greyjoy appeared somewhat dubious. He furrowed his brow and presumed skeptically "Do you mean to tell us that all the probable marriage contracts that were discussed at this meeting were conceived by you today?"

"No, I actually thought them up a long while ago," Gregor expounded, "I was simply waiting for the most opportune moment to share them with the rest of you. The sight of my brother Sandor dueling with Obara and Nymeria merely convinced me that now was the proper time to proceed."

"I can see how you would be led to believe that, my lord," Brynden Tully pronounced, "But dueling is one thing. Marriage contracts are another entirely. Are you certain you should take the skirmish between your brother and the Sand Snakes as a sign that betrothals between houses belonging to different regions are liable to happen?"

"Well, I would interpret it as such," Oberyn Martell debated, brandishing his trademark devious smirk, "In Dorne, boys and girls fighting each other is a common occurrence. Outside my homeland, Dornishmen are willing to fight anyone they encounter. Dornishwomen are just as willing, but it is more difficult for them to find willing opponents. Sandor is not only willing to fight with my girls; he is visibly delighted to do so."

"Maybe it's just the thrill of battle that draws him to them," Lyn Corbray conjectured, "It could be he's not really interested in Obara or Nymeria; he's just interested in triumphing over them."

"Oh, what would you know of bonding with the fair sex?" Gerion Lannister refuted.

Lyn shot Gerion a hostile glare, to which the blonde man sniggered in response.

"Taking Ser Lyn's… unique perspective into account, I do not believe Sandor only sees Obara and Nymeria as a pair of challenges," Oberyn Martell proclaimed, "I believe there is some type of attraction between him and them."

"Gregor and I arrived at the same conclusion," Dacey disclosed.

"And we only saw the three of them together once," Gregor reminded the others, "Obara in particular seems to have taken an interest in something other than Sandor's combat prowess."

Oberyn was intrigued by that last statement. He rubbed his chin and murmured "That's quite remarkable. Maybe we can use that to our advantage, too. While we're still on the subject of betrothals and such…"

Gregor had not considered the likelihood of a marriage contract between Sandor and one of the Sand Snakes. That was not just because the Mountain had no real voice in whom his brother's bride would be. It was also because of the circumstances of Obara's birth. Still, he would be a fool not to recognize the advantages in such a union.

"I appreciate the idea," Gregor disclosed, "But unfortunately, my mother is not as tolerant of bastards as you or I, my prince. She would spit at the very concept of my brother wedding a baseborn girl."

Oberyn did not seem surprised by that statement. Nor did he seem bothered. He contended "Just minutes ago, you suggested that I legitimize my daughters Let us say King Robert agrees to make them Martells. Would your mother be so adverse then?"

"No," Gregor replied, "Neither would my father. But if that was to happen, wouldn't Obara be marrying too far below her station?"

"In Dorne, there is no such thing as marrying above or below one's station," Oberyn argued, "Besides, from what I've heard, your house in the south has flourished these past three years. Clegane's Keep would be as good a place for my daughter as it would be for your family."

Gregor sat reflecting on those points. After a minute of contemplative quietness, he coincided with "Very well, Oberyn. I am willing to indulge the possibility of a marriage contract between Sandor and Obara. But before we tell them, my mother, or anyone else about a betrothal, we should write a letter to King's Landing. If the request to legitimize your daughters comes from both of us, that should be enough to persuade the king to grant it. Once your firstborn is recognized as a Martell, we can broach the subject of betrothal to her and my brother. If both of them agree to it and my parents give them their blessing, we can make it official."

Oberyn nodded his head, folded his arms, and stated "That is more than acceptable."

The meeting ended ten minutes later. Immediately after leaving the council chambers, Gregor Clegane, Oberyn Martell, Brynden Tully, and Garth Hightower went straight to the rookery. There the Mountain and the Red Viper composed a letter to King's Landing. At the same time, the Blackfish wrote a letter to Winterfell and the second son of Lord Leyton Hightower wrote a letter to Highgarden.

As soon as each letter was complete, a raven was dispatched to its intended destination.

Although over three dozen potential marriage contracts had been proposed at the meeting, the one between Robb and Margaery was the only one Gregor wished to follow up on right away. The sooner the idea reached Winterfell and Highgarden, the more chances it had to happen.

After the ravens were sent out, there was nothing more Gregor or his ten companions could do but wait for answers.

Three days later, Lord Jorah Mormont, Lady Maege Mormont, and her three youngest daughters left for Bear Island. Four more days later, Sandor Clegane, Ellyn Clegane, and Daliah Clegane set out for Clegane's Keep.

Just before he left, Sandor shared a rather affectionate good-bye with the two eldest Sand Snakes. He embraced Nymeria warmly and kissed her on either cheek. He embraced Obara, as well, but when he tried to peck her on the cheeks, she went one step further and kissed him full on the mouth. After a single instant of shock, Sandor eased down and kissed her back. For a burly young man with aggressive tendencies, he was a very tender kisser.

Now that was what Gregor called a sign.

The next month was relatively uneventful. Apart from quelling a few groups of bandits and tracking down the occasional runaway criminal, nothing especially noteworthy happened for the Legion without Banners. Gregor still had yet to hear back from King Robert, Lord Eddard, or Lord Mace. But he was holding out hope that they (and the people around them) would come through for him.

Halfway through the first month of the 287th year after Aegon's Conquest, something very significant took place.

One day, in the late morning, Lord Gregor Clegane was alone in his solar. He was seated at his desk, reviewing a number of reports from his officers (The closest thing they have to paperwork here). He had a tankard of cranberry juice by his side. Most other lords would have preferred a mug of ale or beer, but Gregor had never been much of a drinker in either of his lives. He allowed himself a goblet or two of wine at feasts, but other than that, he tried to stay sober as often as possible.

He was in the middle of examining the roster of the Legion's newest recruits when he heard a loud thumping outside the door.

He promptly looked up and called out "Come in."

It was Dunsen who stepped inside the room. He entered very hastily, and he was breathing very rapidly, as though he was struggling to catch his breath. In fact, he was; he had sprinted all the way up to the solar from somewhere on the ground.

Concerned, Gregor rose from his chair and asked "Dunsen, is something wrong?"

"It's… it's Milady, Ser," Dunsen spoke through uneven breaths.

Although Dacey was not the only highborn woman at Moat Cailin, Gregor knew that whenever his men-at-arms mentioned "Milady," they were referring to his wife.

"What is it?" Gregor queried worriedly.

"Well, Ser, she…" Dunsen haltingly began. This time when he paused, it was not because of fatigue. Instead, it was due to apprehension. Then he took a deep breath and finished with "She fainted."

Gregor suddenly felt himself a little short of breath, too. He rose to his feet, walked around his desk and said demandingly "When? Where? Why?"

"Just now, in the training yard, and I don't know," Dunsen answered correspondingly, "The Smalljon and Prince Oberyn are taking her to Maester Kennick as we speak. They sent me to fetch you, if you're not too busy."

"Of course I'm not," Gregor solemnly declared. He retrieved his cloak from a hook on the wall and draped it around his shoulders. After tying it securely around his throat, he descended the Lord's Tower with Dunsen.

As they made their way back down to the ground, Gregor asked his man-at-arms "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Afraid not, Ser," Dunsen said apologetically, "I only arrived on the scene after Milady collapsed. By the time I found out what all the fuss was about, they were already moving her."

"Well, I'm grateful that you came straight to me," Gregor asserted.

"Glad to know, Ser," Dunsen muttered sincerely.

Ten minutes later, the Mountain and his retainer reached the maester's office. Oberyn Martell, Smalljon Umber, Rodrik Cassel, and quite a few others were standing outside the door. But only Gregor was allowed entrance to the room.

Inside the chamber, Maester Kennick was tending to Dacey. She had already regained consciousness, but she did not look well.

Her face glistened with perspiration, and many of her black locks were drenched in sweat. Her breathing was as unsteady as Dunsen's had been when he reached Gregor's solar.

One may have attributed that to the fact that Dacey had been in the training yard when she collapsed. She had been sparring with Ser Rodrik for twenty whole minutes beforehand. But Ser Rodrik – as well as everyone else who had been present – had noted that even before their duel began, Dacey had seemed fatigued or distracted. Every additional minute the duel lasted, her condition had worsened.

Despite how hot Dacey looked, her upper body was wrapped in a blanket.

At a glance, Gregor would have guessed she had a fever. But as the weather indicated, Westeros was in the process of switching from summer to winter. As far as Gregor knew, autumn fever was not a thing in any part of the country, including the North.

Gregor went to his wife's side, knelt beside her, and took her hands in his. He asked worriedly "Are you alright?"

She slowly turned to face her husband. She did not look alright. All the same, she managed to nod her head a bit, and she insisted "Yeah, I'm just… just a little dizzy."

Then she balked and clasped her hand over her mouth, which suggested she was about to vomit.

Gregor spotted a chamber pot across the room. He hurriedly went over to it, picked it up, and brought it over to his wife. He held it near her, just in case.

Fortunately for Dacey, she managed to avoid throwing up. Unfortunately for Gregor, he had not realized that the chamber pot was not empty. Either Maester Kennick had used it that morning or the servants had not yet cleaned it out. Gregor smelt the contents of the chamber pot before he saw them, and when he saw them, he gagged. He quickly returned the chamber pot to its original spot, but his disgust lingered.

Dacey was amused by her husband's actions. She commented drily "I wonder who's more likely to retch now: you or me."

Gregor was not as entertained. He murmured sardonically "Is now really the best time for jokes?"

"It might actually be, my lord," Maester Kennick perceived, "We'll probably laughing about this before long."

"I'd rather you wait until you finish examining my wife to make that declaration," Gregor muttered sternly.

"As you wish, my lord," Kennick conceded, "I'll be done soon. I just need to ask her a question. A personal one. So, if you would not mind…?"

At that, Gregor nodded and took a few steps back so that Kennick could talk to Dacey in relative privacy. He whispered something into her ear. In response, her eyes widened and she looked at him in astonishment. A few seconds later, she stared at her feet and uttered softly "Well… six weeks ago, I suppose."

Six weeks ago? The hells does that mean? What happened six weeks ago?

Before he could ask anyone that question, Kennick turned to the Mountain and gestured for him to come back over. Gregor gradually walked back over to the maester and his wife. Both of them were grinning now.

"Lord Gregor, I'm pleased to tell you there is nothing wrong with Lady Dacey," Maester Kennick informed him.

Gregor let out a sigh of relief and knelt by Dacey's side again. As he held her hands in his right one again, he assumed "So she's perfectly healthy?"

"Yes," Kennick affirmed. He knelt on Dacey's other side and slyly added in "Both of them are, in fact."

Before, Gregor had simply been confused. Now he was dumbfounded. "Both?"

"Yes, Lady Dacey and…" Maester Kennick took Gregor's free hand and brought it to Dacey's abdomen. He had the Mountain rest his hand there for a few seconds.

The truth dawned on Gregor very suddenly. He stared at his hand on his wife's lower body for a few more seconds, and then he gradually looked up at her and the maester. He said very quietly "You mean…?"

Maester Kennick nodded his head and announced "Lady Dacey is with child, my lord."

Upon hearing the confirmation to what he had already begun to suspect, Gregor seemed to freeze in his position. He gave no immediate reaction to that statement. Dacey and Maester Kennick watched him closely, eager for his response.

Then Kennick's theory came true; Gregor did laugh. Dacey and the maester soon joined in. They laughed in relief for how they had been needlessly worried, they laughed in amusement for how worked up they had been over this matter, and they laughed in joy for how a child would be born at Moat Cailin later that year.