Chapter Twenty: Changes And Control

Throughout Westeros' lengthy history, a babe of seventeen pounds being born alive was unheard of. The Citadel had records of babes who weighed slightly less than that who had lived, but they had weakened, crippled, or killed their mothers when they emerged from the womb. Most women in the modern Seven Kingdoms still would not have survived birthing one as large as Rickard Clegane.

As she had already proven many times over, Dacey Mormont was not "most women." Her son's birth had greatly fatigued her, but it had not rendered her helpless, comatose, or on the verge of death. Quite the contrary, she recovered at an alarmingly fast rate. By midafternoon, she had all but regained her strength.

Gregor's letters had told true. Mere hours after bringing Rickard into the world, Dacey had attempted to get up and move about. Vera and Maester Kennick both vehemently protested, as expected.

That was not enough to sway Dacey. Then, to her dismay, Gregor took their side. She did not have the option to ignore or disregard his advice.

Her husband beseeched (or "requested," as he called it) her to get some rest. She claimed that she had already been quite inactive for the last four months, and she had no intention of "slacking off" any longer.

Stubborn as Dacey was, Gregor ultimately won the argument. She agreed to remain abed for the rest of the day so that Maester Kennick could do some tests to ensure that she and Rickard were doing well. After that, she could do as she pleased. Gregor assured her that once the next daybreak was upon them, he would not even object if she wished to go riding.

While Dacey agreed to that arrangement, she was somewhat annoyed that her husband had confined her to her bed, even if it was only temporary.

Oh, well. I should count myself lucky that Gregor can listen to reason.

Dacey never voiced that thought, and if she had, few would have agreed with her. From the point of view of most others, Dacey had been the unreasonable one. Even so, in the long run, she was no deafer to reason than her husband.

Dacey spent the rest of the day tending to Rickard.

When he got hungry, Vera had offered to find a wet nurse for him. Dacey had firmly declined. She insisted on feeding her son from her own breast. When Vera mentioned that it was highly irregular for highborn ladies to feed their children that way, Dacey shamelessly informed the midwife that her own mother had done so. Indeed, Lady Maege had nursed Dacey and all her sisters.

Vera agreed to that logic. Subsequently, she showed Dacey the proper "technique" to nurse Rickard. That proved to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Learning the proper technique to wield a blade was almost easier.

Be that as it may, Dacey found that breastfeeding was much more relaxing than swordplay. It was also a wonderful bonding experience between her and her son. She noted that Rickard had a large appetite to match his size, but she had more than enough milk to quell his hunger at each meal.

Gregor stopped by the birthing chamber half a dozen times that day to check up on the two of them. Twice he walked in whilst Dacey was nursing Rickard. She did not mind; nothing he had not already seen was exposed. Gregor actually seemed somewhat intrigued by the nursing process. Dacey suspected it was because her breasts had doubled in size throughout the duration of her pregnancy. Given how often his gaze drifted to her chest, she believed that was indeed the case.

The next morning at first light, Maester Kennick released Dacey from his care. Gregor was there when she exited the birthing chamber with their son.

Big as Rickard was, she was able to cradle him in one arm, so her other arm was left free. That was fortunate; Gregor had brought her sword. He meant to return it to her right there, just as he promised he would. Dacey was quite pleased by the gesture, and she happily took her sword in her free hand.

Less than an hour later, Rickard Clegane was publically presented to the residents of Moat Cailin. The smallfolk, the servants, and the soldiers alike cheered for the debut appearance of their lord's heir. Dacey made sure to keep the presentation brief, as she did not wish to make an exhibit of her son. Shortly after, she reassumed her duties as Lady of Moat Cailin and a senior officer of the Legion without Banners.

Later that day, Dacey paid a visit to the training yard. It had been a long while since she had last brandished a weapon, but she was quick to make up for lost time. Ser Rodrik Cassel, Prince Oberyn Martell, and some of the other expert swordsmen were able to help her get back into shape. After four days of vigorous exercises, one would never have guessed that Dacey had been absent from the training yard for the last four months.

Ironically, when Dacey returned to the optimal condition she had been in immediately before her pregnancy, the country did, as well.

As it happened, Rickard Clegane's birth coincided with the changing of the seasons. Three days after he came into the world, the blizzards stopped everywhere, including the North. Four days later, the white raven arrived from the Citadel. That marked the ending of winter and the beginning of spring.

Some people at Moat Cailin speculated that the concurrent arrival of both Lord Gregor's heir and spring was a sign of good things to come. Dacey was willing to entertain such a notion. Although she was not one to believe in superstitions, she knew that Rickard would certainly bring about plenty of good things for her and Gregor. Primarily the guarantee that their house's line would continue, as well as their happiness.

Within the next fortnight, the snows of Westeros had almost completely melted. A few inches remained in the North, but compared to the intense whiteouts of the past year, those inches seemed little more than the dew of a brisk morning.

The different climate was quite welcomed by the occupants of Moat Cailin. Many of the smallfolk had chosen to take up residence in the moat's towers, but now they were able to return to their homes in the villages. Furthermore, no one had to struggle to keep warm anymore.

Even so, Gregor and Dacey were content to continue doing what they had done to stay warm.

For the first three weeks following Rickard's birth, Dacey was still too sore to have intercourse. Luckily, she and Gregor had ways of satisfying each other's… urges.

For instance, whenever they got intimate, Gregor frequently kissed Dacey on her lips. Both pairs of her lips. He tended to pay more attention to the lower pair. Not that Dacey could complain. She enjoyed the traditional form of kissing as much as any woman, but every time her husband inserted his tongue into her pussy, he always brought her waves of overwhelming pleasure. Even when she hit her release, Gregor did not withdraw. Instead, he opted to lick her clean.

Dacey thought about the scenario, and she noticed something amusing. Rickard was nourished many times a day by her milk. But at night, Gregor was the one who got a taste of her "honey."

In addition to that, she would never share either of those with anyone other than her son and her husband respectively.

I'd better be sure never to confuse the two, she had thought jokingly. Then she reflected on that jape, and she realized just how depraved the concept behind it truly was.

Oh, gods; wouldn't THAT be disgusting? Even the Targaryens would be appalled.

Gregor had seen to the construction of a nursery in the room immediately below his and Dacey's bedchamber. However, for the first couple months, they had Rickard sleep with them. Most nights, they tucked him safely between them, and they slept a few feet apart so that there would be no risk of overcrowding him. On nights when they got intimate, they placed him in a cradle, and they waited until he was sound asleep before they engaged in any sexual acts.

Their son turned out to be a very heavy sleeper. Once they put him down for the night, nothing could wake him up. Other than himself, of course.

Half the time, Rickard did not wake up until one or both of his parents did. The other half, his sleeping schedule greatly deviated from theirs. Sometimes Rickard woke in the middle of the night for various reasons, all of which were traditional infant needs. Even if he was not sleeping in between his parents or five feet away from them, his wails were loud enough to rouse everyone in the Lord's Tower.

Fortunately, his parents were very light sleepers by contrast. Whenever he started crying, they would be up and out of bed almost straightaway.

Before long, Dacey and Gregor devised a system where they took turns tending to their infant boy. Normally, she handled the feedings, and he handled everything else. Gregor argued that since Dacey had done most of the work to bring Rickard into the world, he should do more of the work that had to be done after. Dacey had no quarrel with that. It meant more rest for her, after all.

Sometimes Gregor would sing Rickard to sleep. To Dacey's astonishment (and delight), her husband had a rather pleasant singing voice. His vocal range was very broad; he could sing in a high, middle, or low tone, depending on the mood of the song. However, some of the songs Gregor sang… Dacey had never heard them or their like before. She enjoyed them, but she was curious as to where they had originated. She could have asked Gregor, but for various reasons, she decided not to. She ultimately concluded that either he had written the songs himself, or he had heard them from somewhere outside the North.

Throughout the day, Gregor and Dacey were usually preoccupied with their duties as lord and lady of Moat Cailin, as well as their high-ranking positions in the Legion without Banners. So for most of the hours of sunlight, Rickard was left in the care of Vera and some of the moat's servants. At night, his parents reassumed full responsibility of him. Regardless of the time of day, Dacey insisted on being the only one who fed her son. Normally, whenever he was hungry, she would stop whatever she was doing and tend to him. Even if she was drilling in the training yard or discussing strategies with the other officers of the Legion, her first priority was Rickard's well-being.

Dacey and Gregor had suspected that parenthood would be a challenge. In that, they were correct; it was probably the biggest of any challenge they had encountered so far. That included their experience with the mountain clans of the Vale and the winters in the North.

All the same, the challenge was totally worth it. It was a life-altering experience for both Dacey and Gregor. It taught them more about patience, compassion, empathy, and, most importantly, love. Both of them had already been very capable of love; they loved their families, friends, allies, and neighbors greatly, but neither of them had ever loved anyone the way they loved Rickard. He seemed to bring out the greatest aspects in them. In a way, he made both of his parents even better people than they had been before. Most of all, before he came into the world, the Cleganes in the North had only been a married couple. Now, with the addition of Rickard, House Clegane of Moat Cailin had become a full-fledged family. That realization brought Gregor and Dacey into a state of bliss.

This state of bliss lasted a couple months. Then Moat Cailin received a raven from Bear Island. It carried a letter addressed to Dacey. Maester Kennick brought it to her, and she took it from him. She seemed a little reluctant to accept it. For some reason, she could not help but think that the raven had brought her sad news. Usually, her family only wrote when they had news of that sort to share.

As they say: dark wings, dark words.

And dark words they were.

Lady Blinda Mormont had died earlier that week. The cause of death had been attributed to illness. That was hardly surprising; Blinda Glover had always been a sickly woman. Even so, her ailments had never before been fatal.

In any case, Dacey was saddened to learn that her cousin's wife had perished.

Lord Jorah Mormont was now a widower. A childless widower, at that. While he mourned his wife, it was his responsibility to find another one. Ideally, he would need someone young who was capable of giving him heirs. Since he was already a grown man and the head of his house, the task of finding a new bride fell solely on his shoulders.

Dacey wished she could have provided some form of comfort to her cousin. But she did not know what she could say that might improve his demeanor. Gregor noticed his wife's concern, and he ensured her that Jorah would overcome this tragedy. He seemed queerly confident that Jorah would be able to move on and find another wife soon enough. He claimed that what they really needed to be worried about was what happened after he found her. Dacey did not know how her husband could have been so certain of that, but she chose to trust in his prediction.

In the meantime, Gregor focused on another marriage contract; one that involved a member of his own family.

Not long after the white raven appeared, Gregor wrote a letter to Clegane's Keep. He informed his parents that he and Oberyn Martell had gotten the idea to forge a betrothal between Sandor and the Red Viper's oldest daughter. Truthfully, the idea was more Oberyn's in origin, but Gregor had agreed to it, and he had the influence to make it happen.

Gregor made certain to mention that Obara was no longer a bastard. That was a critical part, as his parents had no way of knowing that she had been legitimized by the King. Had he left it out, his mother would have burned the letter immediately after reading it.

After sending off the raven, Gregor and Oberyn approached Obara and told her of their plans. The Red Viper assured his daughter that they would not force her to partake in the pact. She had the option to accept or refuse. As before, nothing would be predetermined for her without her consent.

Obara actually seemed quite open to the concept of entering a marriage contract with Sandor Clegane. With the exception of the Legionnaires, she claimed had never seen a man who respected her as an equal. Sandor had treated her as such, both in and out the training yard. She did not love him, and she was certain he did not love her. But she believed that they could come to love each other in time.

Plus, Obara knew that since she now had her father's name, she had all the privileges that came with it. She was required to accept all the responsibilities of it, as well. That included the obligation to spread the reach of her family through marriage. She debated that she may as well do that with someone she liked. That was an outlook that Gregor, Dacey, and Oberyn could all understand and relate to.

A few weeks later, a letter arrived from Clegane's Keep. It was a follow-up to the one Gregor had sent to his parents.

Ser Tarrence and Lady Daliah had spent some time seriously contemplating the marriage contract. Since Obara was now trueborn, they were quite open to the match; they found it rather appealing, in fact. They had gone over the matter with their younger son, too. After all, it was his future they had been discussing. As luck would have it, Sandor was just as open to the match as they were. He had made much the same argument as Obara, only his was a little less centered on duty and inspired more by affection.

Dacey had read the follow-up letter with Gregor, and both of them had been entertained by the description of Sandor's reasons for fancying the match.

Who would have thought my brother-by-law was a bit of a romantic? I suppose he's like his brother in more than just stature.

What mattered was that a marriage contract between Obara Martell and Sandor Clegane was definitely possible At this point, Obara and Sandor were both willing to go along with the match. Oberyn Martell and Tarrence and Daliah Clegane had no direct opposition to the betrothal, either.

However, while Oberyn and Daliah had become acquainted with Sandor and Obara respectively at Gregor and Dacey's wedding, Tarrence had not been present at that event. So he and Obara had never been in the same place.

Near the end of the missive, Ser Tarrence expressed a desire to meet Obara before he agreed to wed his heir to her. That request was a reasonable one, as every father had a right to know his future daughter-by-law before she became so. Nonetheless, in order to grant that request, one of them would have to travel to where the other was.

Tarrence was still unwilling to come north to Moat Cailin. After the last winter, he wished to have a long respite from cold weather. Aside from that, as the master of Clegane's Keep, he had other matters to attend to apart from seeking out a bride for his son. After all, the ride to Moat Cailin and back was roughly a two-month-round trip, and being away from the keep for even a week would have complicated his affairs.

Three years ago, he could have afforded such a trek. Now that House Clegane of Clegane's Keep had grown so greatly in status, Ser Tarrence was a busier man. He was constantly working tirelessly to maintain and further his house's growth.

In any case, the more practical course of action was for Obara to go to Clegane's Keep instead. That was never explicitly state anywhere in Tarrence Clegane's letter, but it had been heavily implied, and Dacey, Gregor, and Oberyn had arrived at that conclusion all on their own.

Right after they finished reading the letter, the three of them sought out Obara. They apprised her of everything that had been discussed in the letter, including the subtle proposal that she visit Clegane's Keep.

Obara appeared only mildly stunned by that proposition. Truthfully, she had expected that Ser Tarrence would desire to make her acquaintance before she and Sandor decided to swear any vows.

Fortunately, she had no issue with relocating to the Westerlands for a while. If anything, she felt she would enjoy a change of scenery. Even if said scenery was located in the domain of Lord Tywin Lannister. Plus, she would get to see the holdfast whose lady she might one day be. That was just as important to Obara as meeting her was to Ser Tarrence. She did not think she would be appalled by the holdfast or anything of the sort; she merely wished to see it before she bound herself to it.

For the sake of efficiency and haste, it was decided that Obara should meet Tarrence as soon as humanly possible. So immediately after she agreed to the meeting, preparations were made to arrange her transportation to Clegane's Keep.

To ensure that his daughter passed through the Westerlands safely, Oberyn assigned half a dozen Legionnaires – all of them Dornish – to escort Obara to Clegane's Keep. All six of them had been longtime friends and trusted allies of the prince. They swore to him that they would protect and guard Obara with their lives.

Dacey was there when Obara departed from the moat. She had opted to see the former Sand Snake off. Obara was very appreciative of that. She embraced Dacey affectionately and told her that she looked forward to having her as her sister-by-law. Dacey claimed much the same.

Both of us already have plenty of sisters. But there's no wrong in having one more.

Obara also shared a tender moment with Nymeria, Oberyn, and Ellaria at the southern gates of Moat Cailin. They bade her the best of luck (not that she had any need of it), and she promised them she would be careful and that she would wait until they were available to get wed.

After the good-byes were given, Obara and her six Dornish companions exited Moat Cailin through the southern gate. They solemnly made their way down the Causeway, riding in silence. Dacey was certain Obara was ready; she did not look back even once.

Straight after she left, Gregor dispatched another raven to Clegane's Keep, notifying his parents that they could expect Obara Martell to arrive within a moon's turn.

Whatever happened next was left in the hands of the gods.

Over the next few months, Dacey developed a type of daily routine.

In the early morning, she woke up, readied herself, and fed Rickard. After entrusting her son to the servants, she broke her fast with her husband and his council in the Banquet Tower. Then she spent an hour sparring in the training yard. Sometimes she helped Ser Rodrik Cassel break in the new recruits or test the more experienced combatants in the Legion.

In the late morning and early afternoon, she executed her role as Lady of Moat Cailin. She oversaw the affairs of the moat alongside Erryk Ruttiger and Sylas Vikary. She fed Rickard again, and then she went to feed herself. After lunching with the top memebers of the Legion without Banners, she and Gregor reviewed all the materials they had which pertained to the Legion. Most of those materials were status updates on the Legion's growth and the spread of its influence or missives from all over the country requesting the Legion's services. Whenever the latter came up, she, Gregor, and the other officers assigned a carefully-assembled team of Legionnaires to seek out the problem and settle it. The goal was to settle the conflict peacefully and with minimum bloodshed. That was almost always how things turned out.

In the later afternoon and early evening, Dacey fed Rickard once more. Then she and Gregor took some time to mingle with their colleagues and retainers. That was the one time of the day when she was actually able to relax and interact with peers. After supper, she and Gregor briefly went around the moat one last time to ensure that everything was in order. Then they retired to their chambers at the top of the Lord's Tower and stopped by their son's room.

In the late evening, Dacey fed Rickard one last time. After that, she and Gregor usually spent at least another hour with him before they turned for the night.

Although Rickard had now been moved to the nursey below his parents' bedroom, Dacey and Gregor had given the servants explicit instructions to come to them if their son woke up in the middle of the night. Since they were so busy during the day, they felt they could at least see to his needs at night.

So that was generally Dacey Clegane's everyday agenda. On the whole, it was very productive and rewarding.

Occasionally, there were some discrepancies in it.

Four months after Obara left for Clegane's Keep, Ellaria gave birth to her second child (and Oberyn's sixth). They had another girl; this one they named Obella. Since the Dornishwoman had been there during Rickard's birth, Dacey was with Ellaria when she bore her second daughter. Ellaria was very grateful for the Bear Islander's concern.

Dacey had come to enter a type of close friendship with Ellaria; very similar to the friendship that had blossomed between her husband and the Dornishwoman's lover. Some people whispered that perhaps there was more than just friendship that connected the four of them. She had been outraged at first, but Ellaria and Oberyn convinced her that she should not to let rumors bother her. So she agreed to simply ignore that form of gossip.

Sometimes, the Legion received what Gregor called a "priority-one" assignment. Every time that happened, the Mountain had to go out and resolve the dilemma himself. Dacey would have liked to go with him (just as he would have liked to have had her come along), but it was irresponsible to deprive Moat Cailin of both its lord and lady in times of peace. So whenever Gregor was needed elsewhere, Dacey was left in charge of Moat Cailin.

Gregor was never gone for more than a few days at a time, and Dacey ruled the moat well in his absence, but she missed him and yearned to have him back all the same. Thankfully, Rickard was always around to keep her company. She took comfort in the lack of her husband's company by spending more time in her son's. Those precious experiences were what prevented Dacey from ever thinking that her husband might not come back from one of his "priority-one" assignments. Her son was strong; his father was the strongest man she knew.

Such strength cannot be defeated easily.

In the seventh month of that year, there was a minor change in Gregor's behavior. The change was slight, but not so slight that Dacey did not notice it.

The change was in the way Gregor acted around the Legionnaires from the Iron Islands. He continued treating them with the same courtesies and respect he treated all the other Legionnaires. But now he gazed at the Ironborn with prying eyes, as though he was scrutinizing them or wondering intently on what they were thinking.

Dacey speculated that her husband was probably beginning to suspect the Ironmen Legionnaires of planning some wicked deed. If that was the case, she could not fault him for believing so. Despite having served with them for nearly two years, she was still somewhat mistrustful of the Ironborn.

Bear Island had often been a frequent site for plundering by the Ironborn raiders. House Mormont usually managed to repel the raiders when they came, but victory tended to come at a price. The iron price, was what they called it.

As far as Dacey was aware, Bear Island had never been raided in her lifetime. During the days when Lord Quellon Greyjoy ruled the Iron Islands, the Ironborn had made an honest effort to mend relations with the rest of Westeros. Under Lord Quellon's direction, the taking of thralls had been outlawed, maesters had been introduced to the Islands, and reaving had been all but forbidden. For a while, it actually appeared as though the Iron Islands would be fully incorporated into the Seven Kingdoms.

There were many who doubted that such a thing could come to pass. One of those nonbelievers was Dacey's lady mother, Maege Mormont.

Lady Maege vividly remembered the days before Lord Quellon was in power. Back then, the entire western coast of the country lived in fear of being attacked by Ironborn raiders. Bear Island was one of their favorite places to reap.

Maege had been younger than Dacey when she first helped her family fight off the Ironborn invaders. She once told Dacey of an occasion when one of the raiders had attempted to take her as a salt wife. She had responded by hacking off his manhood and feeding the rest of him to a bear that lived on the island. She even claimed that that same bear became Dacey's father.

Dacey never knew if her mother was joking about that last part. There was a myth on Bear Island that sometimes, the women lay with bears to produce trueborn children. Dacey had never really known her father, but she decided she would rather not know who (or what) he was.

Lord Quellon Greyjoy had succeeded in initiating a ceasefire between the Ironborn and the rest of Westeros. After he died at the Battle of the Mander, near the end of Robert's Rebellion, his son Balon had become the lord of the Iron Islands.

There had been little to no contact with Pyke since then. In fact, other than the Ironborn that had joined the Legion without Banners, the peoples of the Iron Islands had practically cut themselves off from the rest of the world. Although the seas were considerably safer to traverse in modern times, no one dared to feel too secure. The last thing they needed was to be caught unaware by pirates, especially pirates native to the Iron Islands.

The Ironborn have nothing to gain by living as hermits on those rocks. Maybe they really are planning something.

Ten days later, Dacey discovered that they were. In the early afternoon, Gregor assembled the secret council. He gathered them discreetly, as he always did. But he was even more cautious than usual this time. He almost seemed under the impression that if he made the slightest misstep, someone would immediately catch on to what the secret council was doing. No one wanted that; it would ruin all their covert operations.

Dacey and the others had all gone into the meeting with no inkling of what it would be about. They had congregated several times since Rickard's birth. Most of those meetings had merely involved discussions. They had not launched any more conspiracies to kill anyone else, but Gregor had mentioned the names of a few people they should keep close tabs on. Chief among them were Roose Bolton and Walder Frey. Many more potential marriage contracts between the Great Families and their chief vassals had been addressed, but the one between Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell was still the only one that was currently in the making.

At this council meeting, they did not converse on people who should be monitored or eliminated. Nor did they discuss any betrothals. Instead, the topic was far grimmer and much more unsettling: the impending threat of war.

"I'm sorry; please, forgive me," Allard Seaworth said anxiously, shaking his head a bit. The meeting was already well underway at this point. The Stormlander gazed at the largest person in the room and queried "What did you just say, my lord?"

"You heard me, Allard," Gregor Clegane told the younger man, "In less than a year, the Iron Islands will be at war with the rest of Westeros."

Allard and everyone else there who thought they had misheard the Mountain were now convinced that they had not. Even so, that verification did not make his words any easier to absorb or swallow.

Victarion Greyjoy did not try to avoid making eye contact with any of the others, but he was in no rush to look any of them in the eye, either.

"How can you be so certain, my lord?" Lyn Corbray enquired.

"Other than those of them that are here, we've hardly seen any trace of the Ironborn in five years," Garth Hightower pointed out.

"Because they've been bidding their time," Gregor proclaimed, "They do not plan to stay on the islands indefinitely. To prove it, I ask you to consider how productive they've been these past five years."

"Productive in what manner?" asked Osmund Kettleback.

"They've vastly increased their supply of ships and weapons," Gregor elaborated, "In addition to that, they've been training children as young as twelve to fight and sail. Now they have the most soldiers they've ever had since the days before Lord Quellon Greyjoy reigned. The majority of those soldiers are equally capable as raiders. So put all that together."

The ten other Legionnaires thought on those points for a minute. After that, Smalljon Umber queried "What outcome are you drawing from this, my lord?"

"It should be obvious," Gregor disclosed, "The Ironborn have spent the last five years preparing an invasion force."

A wave of silence passed over the room. A very tense, uncomfortable silence.

Victarion Greyjoy broke it with a sigh. He pronounced "You could be right, Lord Gregor. I have not set foot on Pyke in over a year, but while I was there, Balon was constantly at work. Every day, he was constructing more ships, forging more weapons, and training more soldiers. There's no reason to think he has halted his operations since then. But even with all that said… I never suspected he was planning an invasion."

"Are you saying you never asked him his intentions?" Oberyn Martell presumed, clearly skeptical.

"It is not my place to question my brother's actions," Victarion debated firmly, "I simply assumed he was striving to make the Islands stronger."

"He was," Gregor contended, "And he still is. It's how he means to make them stronger that should perturb us."

Most of the others were still struggling to grasp the concept of a forthcoming Ironborn invasion, but Dacey, Smalljon, and Brynden Tully were starting to admit the likelihood of its credibility.

"What does Balon Greyjoy hope to accomplish, my lord?" Brynden Tully queried.

"He plans to launch a rebellion similar to King Robert's," Gregor elucidated, "He'll start by burning the fleet at Lannisport. Then he'll progress along the western shores of the North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, and the Reach, reaping and raping as he pleases. He plans to have raided a great many of the coastal holdfasts before we are even able to launch a counterattack."

"He must be mad if he believes he can challenge the Seven Kingdoms by himself," Allard Seaworth debated.

"My brother was never the sanest of men," Victarion professed, "Whereas our father sought to build rich and lasting connections with those who live on the mainland of Westeros, Balon deems himself above the idea of establishing an alliance with greenlanders."

"And people say my family is too proud," Gerion Lannister mumbled heatedly, "Just who does he think he is?"

"He thinks himself a king," Gregor declared.

Dacey Mormont raised an eyebrow and commented "Really?"

Gregor nodded at his wife and stated "That's his true goal. Once Balon Greyjoy begins his rebellion, he'll crown himself the King of the Iron Islands."

"How could you possibly know that, my lord?" queried Osmund Kettleback.

"Not just that," Allard Seaworth interjected, "How did you know about any of Lord Balon's objectives?"

"I have my resources," was all Gregor said at first.

Normally, that would have been a sufficient response. Alas, this time, it was not.

"Lord Gregor, there has been almost no communication with the Iron Islands since the end of Robert's Rebellion," Lyn Corbray pointed out, "Other than the ravens you sent out when you founded the Legion without Banners, there has been no word to or from Pyke."

"Ser Lyn is correct," Garth Hightower corrected, "Even the Master of Whisperers' birds don't fly that far. The only way anyone in the Seven Kingdoms could have acquired this information was if they heard it from the Ironborn themselves."

"And the only Ironborn we've encountered recently are those of them who are serving in the Legion," Oberyn Martell added in.

"My men and I don't know of any rebellion, I promise you," Victarion Greyjoy insisted, "If my brother was planning to revolt, I would have known of it. I'd like to think he would have tried to stop me from coming here."

"Maybe he didn't care," Osmund Kettleback hypothesized with a smirk, "Maybe he thought you had gone soft."

Victarion scowled and mumbled irately "Do the finger dance with me, Kettleback, and then we'll see if I've gone soft."

Dacey quickly gestured for quietness, and when it came, she turned to her husband and told him "I think what they mean to say, my lord, is that you seem to be very well-aware of an affair that no one here should be well-aware of."

"Lady Dacey speaks it true," Brynden Tully conceded, looking to the Mountain, "I would normally heed your counsel without questioning where it came from, but this is one occasion where I must make an exception."

"I must, as well," Oberyn Martell remarked, "It is one thing to claim that a minor lord will conspire to seize power for his own selfish purposes. But this is the possible emergence of war we are talking about now. We cannot act upon it without being absolutely certain."

"Well, I am absolutely certain," Gregor avowed.

"But we're not," Smalljon Umber countered, "I'd like to know how you can be, my lord. Just what aren't you telling us?"

For three minutes, Gregor Clegane did not answer that question. He just sat in his chair, gazing around the room at the other ten seated people. He appeared almost speechless.

Dacey knew her husband to be a very calm and organized man. Regardless of how desperate the scenario, he never lost his composure. Now… he actually appeared apprehensive, as though he had been backed into a corner by his enemies. But even his true enemies had never sparked that sort of reaction from him. Instead, his closest allies had been the ones to do so.

Ultimately, Gregor took a deep breath, let it out gradually, and announced "I have… a source."

"What kind of source?" Dacey inquired.

"I cannot say," Gregor declared, "All you need to know is this: this source is what gives me the opportunity to effect positive changes in Westeros. I have been using it since before I founded the Legion without Banners. This source was what enabled me to save Princess Elia Martell from Ser Amory Lorch. It was also how I knew that Lord Petyr Baelish would exploit Lady Lysa Arryn for his own gain. Now, thanks entirely to the source, I have learned of Lord Balon Greyjoy's ambitious plans to have his people embrace the Old Way."

Now Dacey and the other nine men had their turn to be speechless. None of them had known what to expect as Gregor's explanation for how he knew the Ironborn would rebel, but none of them could have foreseen this explanation. Even so, it seemed bizarrely plausible.

"Why can you not share this source with us, my lord?" Allard Seaworth inquired.

"If I name my source, it could compromise all of the Legion's activities." Gregor proclaimed, "In the wrong hands, the source can be used to effect negative changes, as well. But as long as it remains solely in my possession, it will only be used with pure intentions."

"That sounds like a great deal of power for one man," Smalljon Umber noted.

"I know what you mean, Jon," Gregor asserted, "But the right man can wield this power responsibily."

"You fancy yourself the right man, my lord?" Oberyn Martell asked rhetorically.

"Yes, I do," Gregor solemnly declared, "If I could, I'd share it with the rest of you. But I cannot. I do not believe you to be unworthy or anything of the sort. I am merely withholding the source for your own protection."

"Our protection?" Gerion Lannister repeated in perplexity.

"That's right," the Mountain confirmed, "This source is dangerous. It took me years to bring it under my control. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't share it with you. All I can do is tell you what I know, and beseech you to trust in me and have faith in me, just as you've been doing."

Lyn Corbray, Victarion Greyjoy, Garth Hightower, Osmund Kettleback, Gerion Lannister, Oberyn Martell, Dacey Mormont, Allard Seaworth, Brynden Tully, and Smalljon Umber gazed around the room at each other, as though they were having a conversation with their eyes. No actual words were exchanged; only glances. They were trying to decide for themselves whether Gregor's vague yet dramatic account was enough information to go by, or if it was still inadequate to appease their curiosities.

Eventually, each of them gave in and accepted Gregor's reasoning. For the time present at least, Dacey and the other nine men would continue to put their faith in the Mountain.

"You've gotten us this far, my lord," Brynden Tully declared, "We can trust you are not misleading or deceiving us. But I hope to know more about this 'source' of yours someday."

"So do I," Allard Seaworth put in. There came strong murmurs of agreement from around the room.

"Perhaps I will," Gregor contended, "But until then, I would ask you not mention the source to anyone. Like everything we've discussed at this table, my source only exists in this room."

"We understand, Gregor," Dacey assured her husband. The other nine men gave their word, as well.

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing the future rebellion by the Ironborn.

Gregor revealed that it would be at least five months before the rebellion began, but no more than seven. They had that long to prepare themselves against it.

Gerion Lannister proposed that they notify the throne of the upcoming rebellion. Gregor quickly struck that proposal down. He claimed that bringing this matter before the King would do them no good. Even if he exposed his source, he would have no concrete evidence to support his claim. It would seem little more than an elaborate rumor. Essentially, he would be making an accusation without proof. Such an action was profusely unadvisable, especially for someone in Gregor's position. All Gregor would have to back him was his word, and even his word had limits on the Small Council.

So telling the crown was out of the question. All the same, there was plenty they could do to prepare the Seven Kingdoms against Balon's raiders.

It was decided that they would write an urgent missive to every holdfast located on the shores of Westeros (both the west and the east costs, to be safe). They would alert the inhabitants of those fortresses that the Legion had learned of the strong possibility of an impending Ironborn incursion. They knew that most of the lords of those holdfasts would not curious as to how the Legion became aware of this information. They would simply chose to follow up on that information and build up their defenses against anything that could emerge from the sea.

Osmund Kettleback, Lyn Corbray, and Brynden Tully were somewhat skeptical about what Victarion Greyjoy and the other Ironborn Legionnaires would do once the rebellion began. Lyn even suggested that perhaps joining the Legion had not been Victarion's idea after all. Perhaps Balon had sent him to spy on the true members.

Victarion was quick to answer that accusation. He adamantly asserted that he was no man's errand boy, not even his brother's. Enlisting in the Legion had been his decision and his alone. Furthermore, he still believed far more in his father's ideals for what was best for the Iron Islands than he did in Balon's.

The Iron Captain vowed that if war broke out between his people and the rest of Westeros, he and his men would stand with the Mountain. He claimed that he would not allow his brother to undo everything their lord father had done to ensure the prosperity of the Ironborn.

It was fortunate that Victarion had looked up to and admired his father as much as he did. Otherwise, he would almost certainly have chosen to side with Balon instead.

When Gregor asked him if he could speak for all the Legionnaires from the Iron Islands, Victarion admitted he could not. Gregor instructed him to go around the moat later and ask each of their Ironborn colleagues if his or her first duty was to the Iron Islands or to the Legion. He wished to be informed which of them picked the former and which the latter. Victarion agreed to do just that.

Despite how loyal Victarion seemed to be to the Legion, he was very clear on one point: if and when the rebellion happened, he would be willing to fight and kill other Ironborn, but he would not engage his brother or any other member of his family in battle. He firmly declared that he would never become a kinslayer, not for Gregor or anyone.

Gregor found that fair. He assured Victarion (and everyone else there) that he would never ask any of them to kill a member of their own families. If need be, he would have them bring them to justice, but he would never order them to commit the most dreadful crime of kinslaying.

By midafternoon, the meeting ending. But Dacey and the ten men stayed together for a little while after. They headed as a group to the rookery, and as soon as they got there, they set to writing letters. These were the aforementioned warnings meant for the seaside holdfasts and fortresses in Westeros. It turned out more highborn families lived along the shores of the country than they had originally thought.

Around half of all Westerosi houses were found within ten miles of the sea or a river that led out to the sea. Not wishing to take chances, a notice was dispatched to each of them. The notice was brief but explicit; it mentioned the very probable likelihood of a maritime incursion in the near future, and the recipient was cautioned to prepare themselves against that threat.

Since the warning came from the Legion without Banners, nearly everyone who received it chose to heed its counsel. The only ones who did not were those who were confident that the Ironborn would not dare to attack them or even dare to attack anyone at all. Those were individuals such as Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone and Walder Frey of the Twins.

After that meeting where her husband first mentioned his "source," Dacey resumed her typical day-to-day routine from before. Her routine more or less remained the same over the course of the next six months. She took care of Rickard, honed her skills in the training yard, carried out her role as Lady of Moat Cailin, served as an officer of the Legion without Banners, and spent much of her leisure time with her friends and her husband. That was the bulk of her everyday schedule for the second half of that year. Some might find it monotonous after a while, but Dacey did not. It was a very enjoyable way of living to her; she had nothing to complain about. Nor would she have changed anything about it.

Then the new year arrived. With it came change.

One night in the first week of the 289th year after Aegon's Conquest, Dacey was in bed with Gregor. They had just finished a particularly vigorous love-making session and were about to drift off to sleep. But just before they could fall into a slumber, there was a knock on the door to their bedchamber.

Gregor lifted himself up and barked impatiently "What?!"

"I apologize for disturbing you, my lord," Erryk Ruttiger called out. He sounded distressed. "But a raven just arrived from King's Landing. Its marked with the King's seal."

Gregor promptly jumped out of bed, pulled on a pair of woolen breeches, and rushed to the door. Dacey had just enough time to grab a robe, throw it around her naked body and tie it in the front. Not two seconds after she fastened the knot, her husband opened the door to reveal the moat's castellan.

Erryk Ruttiger stepped inside with a piece of parchment in his hand, which he held out to Gregor straight away. The Mountain took it, opened it, and proceeded to read it. Dacey eyed him anxiously. She made note of how his face changed as he read. When he began, he was curious and nervous. By the end, he seemed extremely troubled.

Something's amiss, no question.

When Gregor finally gazed up from the paper, Dacey inquired "What is it, my love?"

"The Iron Fleet has set sail," Gregor announced, "They've just attacked Lannisport."

He paused for a moment to let that knowledge sink in. Erryk Ruttiger was the only one who was genuinely shocked by that news. Dacey and Gregor had somewhat expected to receive it sooner or later. That did not make hearing the news any easier for them, though.

"Anything else, my lord?" Erryk Ruttiger queried.

Gregor nodded and pronounced "King Robert is determined not to let this go unanswered. He's calling the banners."

"As it happens, we have none," Erryk pointed out.

"Makes no matter," Gregor said solemnly, "A threat has been made against Westeros. We will respond thusly."

"So we will answer the King's summons, my lord?" Erryk asked rhetorically.

"Yes," Gregor confirmed, "Gather the top Legionnaires in the courtyard, Erryk. Tell them… we're at war."

The castellan bowed and exited the bedchamber, leaving Gregor and Dacey along once more. The Mountain and the Bear Islander just gazed at each other silently. They were still trying to come to terms with this latest development on the balance of Westeros. But they both knew what they were going to do to help rectify it.

War. I wasn't even old enough to fight in the last war. And if Gregor thinks I'll sit out this one, he is mistaken. I'm going to show those Ironborn scumbags that this bear has claws.

So she would.