Chapter 25: The Stormlands

Author's note. My deepest apologies for the long wait. After the mind-rape Season 5 gave me, I needed a break. (drains a bottle of Captain Morgan). As you can see I'm still trying to recover. Didn't help matters that I was once again plagued with writer's block. Anyway sorry again and Read and enjoy all reviews welcome.

Arya

"Robb Stark continues to deal Tywin Lannister blow after blow."

"The Mountain has been executed by Roland Baratheon."

"They're calling him King In The North."

As such these types of rumors were the main talk in the Tavern. Arya sat in the corner eating a bowl of stew, listening intently at the gossip. Mainly searching for news about her siblings and parents.

Arya had decided to spend another week with the Farmer and his daughter before making her way to Riverrun. The bandits that attacked them had quite a bit of coin on them, so they split it between them. Arya took only a small portion of it while Simon got the rest.

Now as she sat in the tavern, It was under an inn where she had spend the night. The inn keeper's wife was very kind to her and had initially offered her to stay for free. But Arya was insistent on paying her due. As her excitement grew as she neared Riverrun, if things continued to go smoothly, Arya would reach Riverrun within a fortnight and finally be reunited with her family.

"Do you need anything else dear?" Sofia, Innkeeper's wife asked gently.

Arya shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you."

The tavern suddenly grew silent. Arya looked up and found to her horror that several Lannister men had entered the tavern. They threw one family from a table and began barking demands for food and drink. One of them reached out and pulled a tavern wench to him. Sitting her on his lap and groping her tits. His fellow men were laughing at the site.

Arya slowly got up to leave. The last thing she wanted was to attract attention to herself. Nor did she want to be around when these men started something. As her hand reached the handle of the door, an large hand snatched it and held it in an iron grip. "Well here's one for me," he laughed.

"Leave the girl alone," A man said. Everyone turned to the speaker as though he had lost his mind. He was big, bend, gray and old. His head swayed from drink. "Haven't you cunts done 'nough to us already?" His voice heavily slurred. "Y-you burn our crops, rape our women, must you defile the children too?"

"Stay out of it old fool," The leader of the Lannister men snarled. "Unless you want steel in your belly."

The man holding Arya laughed and pulled her closer to him. Panicked and without thinking, Arya drew needle and plunged it into the man's boot as hard as she could. The blade went right through leather, flesh, leather again and hid the wooden floor

The man howled in pain and released her. Arya pulled the blade out allowing blood to flow onto the floor. He slumped into a chair and took off his boot looking at his injured foot.

"She stabbed me!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "That damn wretch stabbed me!"

"Big mistake little girl." The leader scolded getting up. He reached out and grabbed her by the neck lifting her up and causing her to drop needle. His hands started to squeeze and Arya gagged and gasped for breath as her face turned purple.

There was a crash and the man's grip went limp. Arya dropped to the floor and looked up. The man was looking down at her yet his eyes semed out of focus. He swayed for a few moments before crumpling to the floor. Behind him, Arya was the drunken old man standing over the body, his bottle now broken. "I've too much," He slurred. One Lannister got up and lunged at him. The old man took the broken end of his bottle and rammed it into the soldier's neck. " THE KING IN THE NORTH." He yelled drunkenly.

The other Lannisters got up to tackle him only to find that the other inhabitants of the inn had also gotten up wielding broken bottles and legs of tables and chairs. "THE KING IN THE NORTH," they chanted.

The Lannisters found themselves surrounded. Though they were armoured and armed but longswords do little against close quarters as the mob charged them.

The ensuing brawl was intense. Men were flying, capes were torn, chairs and tables were crashed, kicking, punching, gouging, and the mud, blood and booze. While this was going on Arya picked up Needle and raced out the door. She got on bane and rode as hard as she could wanting to get as far away from there as possible.

The cool wind brushed across her face as Arya rode along the gods eye. Arya knew that she was dangerously close to Harrenhal. Harrenhal was were the main Lannister force was garrisoned. But She hoped with luck on her side, she could reach Riverrun soon.

Bane must of galloped for hours before he came to a halt. Arya patted his head, despite her eagerness to get to Riverrun, she didn't want to over work Bane. She could tell he was getting exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was kill Roland's horse. Arya knew how fond he was of him.

Arya and Bane had been resting for only a few moments before Bane lifted his head and looked west. Arya looked in the same direction and saw a row of spears rising in the Hill. The spears rose to reveal men on horseback. Arya saw that they were flying a banner that definitely did not belong to her mother's bannermen. Their flags had six seashells on sandy yellow. Bane snorted in apparent disgust and Arya knew she might be in trouble. Especially since the horsemen were coming straight for her. Arya quickly mounted Bane and they galloped east. Arya thought she would escape until she saw another line of horses coming from the east. The two lines were closing in on them and Arya began to panic. She desperately looked around for some way to escape. But by now all directions had been blocked to her. Soon she was surrounded and the men lowered their spears on her. Arya knew there was no escape this time.

"That's a handsome horse you got there deary," One soldier sneered.

"I bet she stole it," said another.

"I could use a horse like that."

"Look she's got a little sword, I bet she stole that as well."

One man, the leader of the group trotted forward and glared down at her. Arya looked at him fearfully. The leader seemed to ponder what to do and for a moment Arya thought that this was her end. After what seemed like forever the leader turned to his men. "Tie her up, we're taking her to Harrenhal!"

Cersei

"I felt something for you once, you know."

"I know," he muttered grimly.

Was it ever possible for us? Was there ever a time? Ever a chance?"

Robert looked at Cersei miserably, after a few moments he gave the slightest of nods. "Yes."

"The Blacks have marched into the Westerlands," Varys gave a report from his little birds. "Lord Robb Stark has been laying waste to the region, while his father harasses Lord Tywin's foraging near Harrenhal."

Though Cersei tried to listen, nausea that had been plaguing her had become more evident. It has been 10 years since she had carried. Cersei had almost forgotten how hellish the first few months would be.

Everyone in the small council was here, even Joffrey attended. Though she insisted that it wasn't necessary. Joffrey was determined to get reports on his brother's activities. Cersei smiled despite herself seeing her eldest son engage in something other that shooting rabbits with his crossbow.

"That's not anything newer from yesterday, Lord Varys," Joffrey growled. "What news of my traitor brother?"

Varys sighed deeply and folded his hands together before continuing. "My birds have reported that Prince Roland has been spotted in Dorne my king."

"What would Roland be doing in that desolate wasteland," Pycelle asked in his usual drowsy tone.

Before Varys could answer, Tyrion spoke up. "It is most likely that Roland gave Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch to the Dornish Princes as a peace offering. It was the only terms Roland gave your father in exchange for Uncle Jaime."

Joffrey clenched his fist when he heard this. "He shouldn't have given them up." Joffrey snarled. "We need them to keep our enemies in constant fear."

"Joffrey," Cersei said taking his hand trying to sooth him. "Jaime is your uncle, and the finest warrior we have."

"And yet he got bested by a boy who never fought a war in his life." Joffrey snapped pulling his hand away from her grasp. "Perhaps I should reconsider naming him Lord Commander of my remaining kingsguard."

Their was an awkward silence before someone broke it. "So Prince Roland now has the North, Riverlands and Dorne backing him." Lord Baelish commented softly. He turned to Joffrey. "Your brother grows stronger by the day."

"Dornishmen," Joffrey scoffed. "Degenerate people, no sense of decency. My brother can have them for all I care."

"We should deal with the enemies close at hand my king," Varys replied calmly. "My birds tell me that your uncle Renly is already marching on the city. His army numbers one hundred thousand strong, troops from both the Stormlands and the Reach."

"Where is my uncle now?"

"Lord Renly is currently at Bitterbridge, hosting a tourney."

Joffrey burst out laughing. Everyone in the small council looked at him. "Another one? Honestly, My degenerate uncle is hosting more tourney's than my father."

"Well at least that gives us more time to prepare." Tyrion commented with a sigh. He turned to Bronn, the new Lord Commander of the City Watch. Bronn had been appointed to the position after Tyrion dismissed Janos Slynt and send him to the wall. Cersei was angered by this, but Tyrion was certain that their father would of been satisfied by this course of action. "What are our standing forces at the moment 'lord commander'?"

Bronn looked up and leaned back on his chair. "Aroun' eight thousand," he replied casually. "Two thousand men of the city watch plus four thousand new recruits. One thousand sellswords, three hundred of your father's men and those mountain clansmen of yours."

Tyrion nodded, "not exactly enough to stop a hundred thousand men now is it?"

"We must have more than this," Cersei insisted clenching her fist. "Where are the rest of the crownlanders. They must come to the defense of the king."

Varys sighed. "It seems that many of them have dipped their banners to Roland."

"TRAITORS," Joffrey roared standing up from his chair. "I AM THEIR KING AND THEY WOULD CONSPIRE AGAINST ME WITH MY BROTHER? I'LL HAVE THEIR HEADS, THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM."

"We cannot go after them yet nephew," Tyrion retorted. "Not as long as Lord Renly is marching on our doorstep."

"We will be safe once father arrives," Cersei replied trying to sound confident. But Tyrion could see that her eyes said the exact opposite.

Tyrion shook his head. "I hope he does something soon, because if King's Landing falls to either Roland or Renly, then it's over."

"Is my brother still in Dorne?" Joffrey asked.

Varys shook his head. "He has already left and is sailing north."

"Likely to join back up with Lord Stannis to plan his next move," Tyrion concluded.

Joffrey walked out fuming as Tyrion spoke up again. "We should send Tommen and Myrcella to Casterly Rock for their own safety."

"NO," Cersei screamed up rising to her feet. "They will stay here with their mother."

"We must think of their safety sweet sister." Tyrion replied calmly. "What do you think will happen if the city falls? Do you want Myrcella to be raped? Tommen to be butchered?"

His answer was a stinging slap to the face. "OF COURSE I DON'T." She snapped. "But they need their mother." Cersei sat back down helplessly. "Besides, Robb Stark is only a few miles away from Lannisport and Roland commands the Narrow Sea. How will we get them there?"

"Tywin holds Harrenhal," Tyrion replied. "As long as he is there, I'm sure he can arrange an escort."

"I won't risk it." Cersei decided with determination.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Baelish spoke up. Everyone turned to him to hear what he had to say.

Baelish continued. "Roland would never dare challenge Braavos. Perhaps we can send the children there for protection."

"Can you ensure their safety in Braavos?" Tyrion questioned him. 'Baelish is up to something' Tyrion thought. He and Cersei shared a look. 'Still this may not be a bad idea as a whole.'

Baelish nodded with a sly smile. "I have people in Braavos that will ensure their safety."

Cersei didn't like the idea of her younger children being sent away. Roland would never harm them. The same could not be said for Renly. The Tyrells would want to eliminate the competition. With a heavy heart she bowed her head in defeat. "Very well," she said quietly

After the council meeting, Cersei sat on her bed going through a box. A smile came across her face as she looked at the items inside. Among the items were seashells from the shores near Casterly Rock. Those days when she and Jaime use to swim in the beaches took Cersei back to a time when things were so much simpler. Despite the fact that she was Queen Regent and her pig of a husband was dead. Cersei could not help but miss her younger years before King's Landing. Cersei picked up one of the seashells, a large one that Jaime had given her. Her other hand went to her belly rubbing it gently.

She never heard the door open, nor did she hear who stepped inside. Jaime just stared at her for a few moments. Hardly daring to believe that he was back with his love again. His mind scrambled for the right thing to say, but only one word manage to escape his lips. "Cersei."

The woman in question froze and turned around slowly. To Jaime it seemed to take forever. Cersei just stared at him as if her were a ghost. Her eyes traced his entire body unable to believe what she was seeing. She put down the shell and stood up. "J-Jaime," she breathed.

Jaime nodded and took a single stepped towards her, his hand reaching out to her. He barely took a step when Cersei sprinted forward and threw her arms around him. She showered his face with kisses, overwhelmed with joy. "Jaime," She cried. "Jaime, oh brother, my sweet brother."

"Shh," Jaime cooed softly stroking her hair to sooth her. "It's alright now, I'm here Cersei and I will not leave you again."

Cersei finally stopped kissing him and looked into those green eyes that matched her own. "I know you won't Jaime."

Jaime reached into her gown demanding access. but to his surprise, she pushed him away. "We can't," she said reluctantly, "not yet."

Jaime stared at her incredulously. "What do you mean not yet, Cersei I've waited too long, He wrapped her arms around her and kissed her. "I need you now."

Cersei gave him a disarming smile then she took his hand and put it on her belly. "This is why" she replied.

Jaime stared at her belly. He finally noticed that it had swelled significantly. It took him a while to realize what his sister meant. "Robert's?"

Cersei looked down, "I'm not sure," She admitted. "The timing is so close."

Jaime now understood. Cersei usually drank Moon tea after their trysts to avoid suspicion. "Jaime knew how much she cared about Roland despite being the spawn of a man she hated. If this child was also his, She didn't want to loose it. He smiled and nodded, "Alright," he said cupping her face. "We will wait."

Jamie gave her a passionate kiss on the lips before turning to leave.

"Where are you going?' Cersei asked worriedly.

"Roland will soon come to deal with Joffrey sweet sister," Jaime replied, his eyes downcast. "I believe it's time that 'our' so learned to wield a sword."

"Are you saying Roland will kill Joffrey?" She exclaimed in horror.

Jaime was about to nod when he stopped. Roland had always been known for his bluntness and he never said anything about Killing his brother. Merely dealing with him. "I don't know what Roland's intentions are," he admitted. "All the same. Joffrey needs to be prepared for their inevitable confrontation."

Cersei nodded, her eyes welled up with tears. After a moment of silence, Jaime took a deep breath and spoke. "I have to ask Cersei. Did Joffrey really tried to kill Roland?"

The tears flowed freely now as she nodded and bowed her head.

"Good gods," Jaime exclaimed. "Even Arys Targaryen never started this bad."

Cersei fell into those familiar arms that she knew so well and wept. Jaime returned the Embrace and closed his eyes. In his mind returning to a nother horrible time in his life as a kingsguard.

Roland

'I already miss Sansa.'

Roland sat in his personal tent collecting his thoughts. 'It was her name day four days ago,' He mused, My own was a week after I fled King's landing

Before he left Dorne Roland had written to Uncle Stannis, telling him to meet him in the Stormlands with all the forces he had manage to muster. Lady Melisandre was also there. Much to Roland's surprise and displeasure. "He turned to Marcus Sand, "I'll not have that red woman spreading discontent among my army." He told his new companion. "If you sense even the slightest trace of falsehood in her, Make an end of it."

Marcus glared daggers at Melisandre and gave him a smile. "With pleasure your grace."

"Take a walk with me," Roland said as he began walking toward the command tent. Marcus followed. Roland was clad in full armour, a habit he intended to keep until the end of the war. As they walked men bowed saying 'My king' where ever he went. Roland was already sick of it. 'I suppose it's one of the unwanted quirks when you're king' He

As they pair walked, Roland turned to his new companion. "Tell me truthfully," Roland . "Do you truly want to be here, with us. This is not your war and Dorne has been your home all your life."

Marcus looked at Roland his eyes looked as if they were studying him. "I lived in Dorne but despite my time there, it never felt like home. I had no ties to anyone. I decided years ago that I had nothing more to gain by staying there. I promised myself that when the first good opportunity rose I would leave."

Roland nodded satisfied by the answer. All the same Roland was wary of Marcus. Marcus was still a stranger to him and if his life in King's Landing taught him anything it was never trust anyone. Especially in the south. He took a look at Shadow who trotted behind. He had yet to grown at Marcus which meant that he trusted him. 'Shadow's judgement will have to do for now.'

The camp was alive with activity, soldiers were sparing, blacksmiths repaired weapons and armour. Other men were working on 16 foot long pikes, stakes and mantlets. Roland and Stannis were looking over a map of the Stormlands. Finally they entered the command tent. Lord Stannis was waiting for them along with Lord Davos and Lady Melisandre.

"So how are things in Dragonstone?" Roland asked.

Stannis sighed heavily. "The Red Woman continues to gather more and more followers." He said grimly. "Our followers are now divided into two groups. Those that follow the seven or the old gods are called the King's Men, those that have converted to R'hllor are called the Heart Men."

Roland looked at his uncle and cocked an eyebrow. "Heart Men?"

Stannis nodded. "Apparently, R'hllor's symbol is a fiery heart."

Roland let out a short laugh and shook his head. "There's no way I'm going to put any hearts on our Family Sigil."

Stannis nodded. "I've managed to keep them from destroying the sept. But at the rate the Heart Men are growing, I don't know how long it will last."

"What is our progress?" Roland asked.

Stannis sighed, "It is not what I had hoped for. But it isn't entirely lost. From the Crownlands the Crackclaw point, Massey's hook and Duskendale have rallied to our cause. In the Stormlands most of our support resides in the Dornish Marshes.

"Rykker, Boggs, Cave Crabb, Hardy, Pine, Darke, Longwaters, Massey, Chyttering, Farring, Follard, Dargood, Darkwood and both branches of House Brune from the Crownlands. Swann, Dondarrion, Caron and Selmy, Seaworth and Estermont, from the Stormlands."

Roland nodded in approval. "What of the Reach?" The unspoken words in the question were not lost to Stannis. Roland wanted to know if his gesture of good faith to House Redwyne had bore any fruit.

Stannis gave him a small smile. "Lord Paxter Redwyne has agreed to support us." Stannis' smile tightened when he mentioned the lord of the Arbor. Roland knew that he still held a grudge against Lord Paxter for besieging Storm's End all those years ago.

Roland smiled, 'With the Redwyne fleet behind me I now have uncontested control over the seas.' He studied the map. "What news of Uncle Renly?"

Stannis ground his teeth. "My brother is currently at Bitterbridge, I believe he is going to host another tourney."

Roland stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The more time my uncle wastes, the more time it gives us to prepare. He placed a hand over where Bitterbridge was located on the map. "What is our total strength from the Crownlands and Stormlands?"

Stannis sighed. "Little over ten thousand, nephew. Still not enough to contend with my brother."

Roland shook his head. "Renly is marching to Kings Landing at a snail's pace. The tourney's he holds coupled by the sheer size of his army means it will move all that much slower. Nevertheless, if he reaches Kings Landing, the city will fall swiftly."

"So how do we stop him?" Stannis asked briskly. He knew there was a point to this and he wanted his nephew to get to it quickly.

Roland paced around the tent. he ran his fingers through his hair. then an Idea came to him. He strode back to the map and placed his hands on the table. "We need to give my uncle something else to think about."

Stannis' eyes narrowed. "What do you propose nephew."

Roland's right forefinger traced the map until it stopped at an all to a familiar mark. "Uncle, I need you to take four thousand men and lay siege to Storm's End."

Stannis' eyes widened. 'Lay siege to my own home?' he thought. Storm's End was one of the strongest castles in Westeros. He knew it's defenses and realized that this was a fool's errand. "I cannot hope to take Storm's End with a mere four thousand men nephew. I fail to see what you hope to accomplish by doing this."

Roland smiled slyly. "You're not meant to take Storm's End uncle, simply threaten it."

"If I do this Renly will come here in force." Stannis objected. He didn't like this. it just seemed too foolish for Roland to come up with.

"I know uncle." Roland replied calmly. "And that's exactly what I need. Renly thinking about us and less about the Iron Throne.

Stannis stared down at the map. He sighed deeply and gave his king the slightest of nods. then a thought came to him. "If I take four thousand men. what of the rest."

Roland gave his uncle a look. I will take the rest of our forces to Fawnton. From there I will ride to Bitterbrige and deal with Uncle Renly."

this was the moment that lady Melisandre had chosen to speak. "I have looked into the flames my king." She said proudly. "You will win a great victory and your uncle shall feed the crows."

Roland wheeled on her his eyes now dangerous. "I will not become a kinslayer Melisandre." He snarled at her, venom dripping from his voice. "I only mean to treat with him. If I can avoid conflict between us I will do so." Roland took a deep breath and calmed down. "perhaps what you saw was true. But I will not have you interfering. The last thing I want to do is spill my own uncle's blood."

"Renly betrayed us, Roland," Stannis said grimly.

"And he will pay for this treachery in time that I promise," Roland replied. "But we both know who is pulling the strings in that silly play.

Stannis nodded curtly. "I hope he doesn't get killed, Roland."

"So do I uncle, so do I."

Just Then a sentry came into the tent bowing."My apologies, your grace." He said panting.

Roland raised his hand to calm him. "What is it?"

The Sentry took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. "There is a group here asking to see you, They are led by Lord Beric Dondarrion."

"Beric Dondarrion?" Roland wondered. He had heard that Lord Beric had been killed by the Mountain. "Bring him here," Roland demanded.

The Sentry nodded and exited the tent. he returned with a tall man with red-gold hair and a black breastplate slashed with lightning. 'It's him alright," Roland thought. Though the man was clearly scarred. he had lost an eye since he last saw him. Still he was alive and well considering. he was accompanied by a Bald man wearing red robes, Thoros of Myr.

As they entered He and Melisandre locked eyes. "Valar Morghulis," He bowed politely to her.

"Valar Dohaeris," She replied returning the bow.

Roland gave a nod dismissing the sentry and turned to the lightning lord. "Lord Beric," Roland greeted him. "I'm glad to find you well, I had heard you were killed by the Mountain."

"I was my king," Beric replied grimly.

Roland was perplexed. "If you died than how are you here?" He asked suspiciously his hand stroking the hilt of his sword.

"That would be my doing my king," Thoros of Myr spoke up. Roland turned to him, his eyes demanding explanation. Thoros continued. After the mountain put a lance through his heart, I recovered his body to bury it." Thoros took a seat his eyes downcast. "I was always a terrible priest. I never believed in R'hllor. But..as I knelt besides his cold body I said a prayer and spoke the words. Not because I believed in the words but because he was my friend. For the first time in my life, R'hllor replied and breathed life into his body."

Roland listened intently as Thoros told the tale. Part of him was skeptical and wanted to laugh it off. But looking at Lord Beric and his injuries. It seemed plausible.

"How many times has the Lord brought him back?" Melisandre asked. For the first time, Melisandre looked at Lord Beric in shock and wonder.

"Twice already," Thoros told her.

Melisandre shook her head. "That is not possible," she whispered. Melisandre turned to Thoros, "You should not have this kind of power."

"I have no power" He replied. "I merely ask for the Lord's favor and he responds as he wills."

Melisandre took a seat herself unable to comprehend what was before her. Roland smiled to himself seeing her dumbfounded.

Roland turned his attention back to the Lightning Lord. "What can I do for you, Lord Beric?"

Lord Beric stepped forward. "Several months ago, Lord Eddard Stark tasked me to apprehend the Ser Gregor Clegane in the name of your father. I failed Lord Stark and I failed your father. Since you have taken care of him, my mission is over." Lord Beric drew his sword and knelt before Roland. "KIng Roland, of the house Baratheon me and my men hereby wish pledge our swords to you. To make amends for failing your father."

Roland smiled and placed a hand on the lightning lord's head. "You have nothing to apologize for Lord Beric, He said warmly. "I will gladly accept your men into my service. "R'hllor knows we will need it."

Lord Beric stood up, a small smile on his face. "Thank you my king." Lord Beric bowed walked out and Roland followed. he was curious as to what sort of men that Lord Beric had brought. His company was a motley. Rough and soft, big and small, some there trained in arms, others were clearly peasants. Roland rubbed his chin thoughtfully. These men could be very useful. Then an idea occurred to him. "Lord Beric, I have just the task for your men."

The lightning Lord turned to his king, "What might that be my king?"

Roland smiled, "Robb has his own personal guard. I shall have one of my own."

From Lord Beric's companions, Roland formed his personal company called Roland's Renegades. They included Marcus Sand, Rolland Storm, Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, Lem Lemoncloak, Pello Greenbeard, Anguy the Archer, Edric Dayne, Green Gergen, Merrit o' Moontown, Tom of Sevenstreams, Likely Luke, Watty the Miller, Jon O'Nutten, Beardless Dick Dennett, Kyle, Notch, Mudge and Puddingfoot. Twenty thus far, But Roland intended to double its number in the future.

The army was now making preparations. Stannis men for Storm's End, and Roland's men to Fawnton. The next Morning Roland gathered his Renegades. "What will my king?" Lord Beric asked.

Roland drew himself up and turned to him. "Lord Eldon Estermont will take my forces to Fawnton and await further orders."

"what shall we do?"

Roland frowned and looked down at the map one last time. "We will ride to Bitterbridge, and deal with my treacherous uncle."