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Chapter 9: Ch9 The Times They Are a-Changin'Chapter Text

Chapter 9 T he Times They Are a-Changin'

Eddard Stark

On the surface of it all, it almost seemed like a normal day, like a normal family breakfast. Except that it had been a very late breakfast, it was already past midday.

The full Stark family was assembled, the same as before any of this happened...except for Theon. Theon was being kept sequestered in his quarters- with armed guards at the door and with orders to keep Ser Rodrick away.

Ned pushed away his tortured thoughts on Theon...he couldn't bare to think about how the boy he raised had betrayed them all. There were more important issues to deal with first.

He focused back on breakfast, on the surface it seemed to the same as before. Cat was sitting next to him eating sedately and unrushed, Sansa was acting as a lady, Arya and Rickon were wolfing down their meals with no regards to common manners. Jon and Robb sitting together and talking quietly.

But this was only on the surface, Cat should have been taking both Arya and Rickon to task at the lack of manners, while casting the occasional scowl or frown at Jon. Today, she was silent and focusing on her food, not daring to look in Jon's direction. While Arya, even while eating, was staring around her eyes watching everything in the room like a wolf looking for prey. The cold emotionless look in her eyes had taken him a long time to recognize. They were the eyes of a killer. It was something that disturbed him more than he cared to admit, to see the eyes of a killer reflected in Arya's. It was something that had no place in a child of Arya's apparent young age. Jon and Robb appeared to the most unchanged, though Jon smiled more than before, while Robb had become the more dour one. Their roles seemingly reversed now...

And Bran- no, the Three eyed Raven, was eating stiffly, not looking at anything, just starting ahead, emotionless as ever.

He should have been happy to have them all back...and he was...but too many things had changed.

His family weren't the only ones affected, the servants moved hesitantly, if competently, about their duties. The guards stood at stricter attention, hands close to their blades, while searching for dangers that weren't there.

No one had escaped unaltered by the spell. Even those that didn't remember had obviously spoken with those who did.

Breakfast ended quickly, with nary a prompting, Sansa dragged her mother off, talking about proper preparations for the coming Winter, as Jon asked to speak with him. Ned nodded and they headed to his solar. Bran rose and followed them quietly. Robb moved to join them but Ned waved them off. He tried to wave Bran off as well, but he came anyway, much to Ned's annoyance.

As they came to the solar, they were met by Luwin who appeared to be bearing quite a few raven messages.

"Luwin," Ned nodded.

"Lord Stark," Luwin nodded, "There are many important messages today." he reported gravely.

Ned frowned, on the one hand, he had a deep need to speak to Jon alone. He had to explain his actions, why he hid the truth from him for so long. On the other hand, if Luwin was saying the messages were important, then they were very important.

The choice was taken away from him when Jon nodded at him and then gestured for Luwin to come, putting off their private conversation again, much to Ned's annoyance.

In the solar, they were gathered once more. Ned, Jon and Bran sitting while Luwin stood by Ned's desk.

For a man his age, Luwin was fidgeting in a childlike manner. Ned raised an eyebrow at him in surprise, "Is there something you wish to ask, Luwin?"

Nervously, Luwin glanced between him and Jon, "Is it true, my Lord?" he asked in trepidation.

Ned frowned, "Is what true?"

Luwin pursed his lips, he nodded at Jon, "Are you a Targaryen? Are you really the Lady Lyanna's son?"

Ned's face went blank. How did he know? How did he discover this?

Jon winced and then answered, "Yes. You spoke with Ser Rodrick?"

Ned shot Jon an alarmed look as Luwin paled at the answer, "How does Ser Rodrick know this secret?" he demanded.

"Bran told him," Jon explained with an unamused glance in Bran's direction.

Ned glowered at his youngest son, "Why did you tell Ser Rodrick? This is supposed to be a secret! If Robert finds out it will endanger us all!"

"It's too late," retorted Bran emotionlessly, "It's not just Winterfell. Too many people remember everywhere."

Jon and Ned paled and shared a concerned look, "How did this happen Bran?" Jon questioned urgently.

Bran blinked, "It was the Isle of Faces. The entire Isle was an altar to the Old Gods. A few sacrifices would have let some us remember, but the roots of the Heart Tree ran through the entire isle. Every death there fed the magic of the spell. The deaths of over three thousand men and woman empowered the spell." he paused and frowned before continuing, "It was no longer a matter of making sure we remembered...it was making sure the wrong people didn't remember. Not everyone will remember, but a lot will, both in Westeros and in Essos....and beyond."

Ned looked at Jon and found him frowning and rubbing his head in exasperation, "Damn. Fine, who doesn't remember?"

Bran nodded, "Cersei Lannister. Euron Greyjoy. Petyr Baelish. They don't remember, I made sure of that."

Jon let out a sigh of relief before asking tersely, "And the Boltons?"

Bran frowned, "They shouldn't."

"That's not very reassuring Bran." lamented Jon dryly.

"They're not in a position to threaten us, they're too hated now," retorted Bran.

Jon didn't look like he liked that answer much, "I'll give you that...it's probably true. Who else did you affect?"

Bran blinked for moment thinking deeply, "The ones I am sure of...Nearly all of the Slave Masters of Slaver's Bay, some of the Dothraki Khals, most of the Magisters of Pentos, the Warlocks of the House of the Undying, Robin Arryn..."

Ned listened to Bran's list in growing confusion, what did these people have to do with securing the Seven Kingdoms? Or preparing for the coming Long Night? And by the Old Gods, why Robin Arryn?!

"What about Tywin Lannister?" Jon asked cutting in.

Bran blinked several times, "Oh..."

"Oh? OH?! What do you mean Oh, Bran?" Jon demanded irately.

"I forgot about him," Bran explained with a simple shrug.

Ned stared at his son disbelief, the Old Lion was not someone a person should have been able to forget about. The look on Jon's face was unreadable for several moments, before turning into concern.

"Tyrion is at Casterly Rock." he stated darkly, "If Tywin remembers...then he will kill him."

Again Bran shrugged, "He does remember, but Tyrion's already secured Casterly Rock for us."

"Wait a moment...this is Tyrion Lannister, you're talking about?! The Imp, this Tyrion has taken Casterly Rock for us?" Ned asked having trouble believing his ears. Luwin was also blinking in surprise at this. "The same Tyrion Lannister that sent an assassin to kill you?" he finished acidly, with a gesture at Bran.

"The assassin was Joffrey's not Tyrion." Bran corrected lightly, as if he wasn't taking talking about an assassin that tried to kill him.

Ned blinked in surprise, Joffrey tried to kill Bran? Not Tyrion? Still he was a Lannister and not to be trusted, "He's still a Lannister".

"Father you will have to let go of old grudges, too much must be done, to stop the Others," Bran retorted evenly.

Ned scowled darkly at the cold logic of Bran's words, they were true but he didn't have to like them...at least they aren't talking about trusting the damned Kingslayer! He thought in derision, that would be too much!

Jon shared an unreadable look with Bran before saying, "Tyrion Lannister will rally the West for us. Do not underestimate him- he was-is Daenerys's Hand. Lord Royce will rally the Vale. Samwell Tarly, the Reach and Edmure Tully, the Riverlands. Yara Greyjoy, the Iron Islands...though she wants Theon back unharmed in return. Only then will she join us. The Stormlands...Beric Dondarrion may try to rally them- but I'm unsure about that."

Jon's words meant that most of the Seven Kingdoms would rally to them with ease to them but Ned still frowned, this was most but not all, "And the Crownlands? And Dorne? Who will rally them to our side?"

Jon winced, "No one. The Crownland Houses will most likely be divided and by the time of the spell, House Martell had been wiped out. In Dorne...the Daynes of Starfall will rally to us, but they're the only Dornish House that we can be sure of."

Ned's eyes widened in surprise, "The Martells were wiped out? Why would the Daynes rally to you? Especially those Daynes?" The memory of Ser Arthur Dayne's twirling deadly swords coming to the forefront of his mind...and the memory of all the men that died to defeat him.

"It's complicated, as Lord Dayne of Starfall believes....as he sees it, Ser Arthur Dayne died protecting me, and not rallying to me is a betrayal of his memory," Jon shrugged, "It's complicated and I'm not going to question it, if it brings us more men."

Ned blinked at the convoluted logic, then shook his head, I'll never understand the Dornish.

"That's an interesting way of looking at things," added Luwin evenly.

Ned turned to Luwin who had been very silent, he raised an eyebrow at the old maester.

Luwin shrugged, "The world has changed," he stated with deep concern, "we must change as well."

Ned nodded sagely, there was too much truth in Luwin simple words. Gods...too many people know about Jon...Gods...Robert...what will you do? What will you do when you hear of my lies? Ned thought sorrowfully.

Ned stewed in his thoughts silently till Luwin cleared his throat, drawing him out of his revere.

"I still have many highly pertinent messages, my lord," Luwin stated.

"Then we should hear them," Jon commanded.

Luwin nodded at Jon before turning to Ned for permission. Ned gestured for him to begin.

"A message from White Harbor. Lord Manderly rides for Winterfell with his men in support of the King...Jon Targaryen," Luwin explained with more than a little disbelief, "He also relays a message from Lord Reed. Lord Reed has sent men to garrison Moat Cailin, and he also rides for Winterfell along with his children. They are also both bringing a lot of men with them to reinforce Winterfell."

Ned's ears perked up at the mention of his dear friend, Howland Reed, his advice would be most welcome in this situation they were stuck in. And it had been much too long since he'd last seen him.

Jon winced and grimaced in response to the message.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked in confusion.

"This is a good initiative on both their parts , I am happy that they are coming, Jojen Reed is a Greenseer-"

"A Greenseer?" Luwin started, surprise on his face.

Jon nodded, "Aye."

"Then why are you wincing?" Ned prodded.

"It's Meera Reed." Jon admitted reluctantly.

Ned raised an eyebrow and cast a castigating look at Jon, "Did something happen between the two of you?" he asked feeling only a little disappointed, the memory of violet eyes reminding him that all men can be weak, under the right circumstances.

Jon shook his head and cast a look at Bran. He jerked his head at Bran

"She fell in love with me," Bran stated evenly.

"Cripple and all- she still fell in love with him," Jon clarified.

Ned stared at Bran for moment, before he let a small smile come to his lips. Apparently he had given him more than just his older brother's name. The older Brandon always had a way with women...and a match between this Brandon and Howland's daughter would be a good one.

"She fell in Love with Brandon Stark, I'm the Three eyed Raven now," Bran again stated as that explained everything...and it did.

The smile disappeared from his face as reality came crashing back down on him.

Luwin gave Bran a concerned and confused look at this comment but didn't say anything.

"She doesn't like being near him now," Jon added, "But she is a good friend to us."

Ned pursed his lips, unhappy with this turn of events, but it was out of his power now, he gestured for Luwin to continue.

Luwin continued his report, there was many ravens from all over around Winterfell and from most areas of the North. A few were asking about strange inexplicable events that might be happening, but the majority were oaths of fealty to Winterfell. Some declaring for Ned and Robb either as Lords of the North or as Kings in the North. The rest were declaring for Jon of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.

Those ones were very jarring for Ned to hear his loyal vassals swearing fealty to his Targaryen nephew.

Luwin reached for another message and read it out, "This one is from Bear Island; We know no King, but the King in the North who's name is Stark...but we'll settle for a half wolf dragon. We wanted a White Wolf...but we'll accept a White Dragon."

Jon snorted in amusement as Ned gave him a hard disbelieving look, he shrugged in response, "That's written by Lyanna Mormont. She's loyal but she's also still annoyed with me." he waved off Ned's questioning gaze, "It's a long story....later."

Ned shared a look with Luwin at Jon's words but didn't say anything. As strange as that one was, the one from Ironrath was far more so.

"And this one is from Ironrath my Lord...," Luwin hesitated and blanched before continuing, "Lord Forrester has taken Highpoint and put all of House Whitehill to the sword baring Gwyn Whitehill." Luwin stated with no small amount of perplexity in his tone.

Dark wings, Dark words...

Ned stared in alarm at Luwin, "Gregor has done what ? What possessed him to do something like this ?"

"Lord Forrester is protecting his family, and I don't blame him for this precipitous action," Jon calmly admitted grudgingly.

Ned stared at Jon's calm demeanor in disbelief.

"...the Whitehills stood with the Boltons despite Ramsay's perversions and nearly wiped out the Forresters, this was justly done," Jon paused warily, "that part of the Bolton's land will be secure now...and Asher Forrester will be glad that he can return to Gwyn. He's a good man to have at your back."

Ned pursed his lips as he wrapped his mind around Jon's words. They'd need to speak about this, and many other things...later. He gestured for Luwin to continue, pushing forward to get through the last of the raven messages.

There was more of the same, though nothing as disturbing as the raven from Ironrath.

Luwin held up the last message, "There is also a raven from...the Dreadfort. Lord Bolton asks if something strange has happened here as well." Luwin finished reading the last of the raven messages.

He heard Jon let out a sigh of relief. If Roose was asking for an explanation, then he obviously didn't remember.

"So we have some time to deal with the Boltons, or at least with Roose," Jon pursed his lips and then sneered angrily, "We'll still have to find Ramsay."

Bran, who had been silently watching them all, spoke up now, "Leave him to me, I can deal with him."

Ned frowned worriedly at his son, "What do you mean?"

Bran blinked once, "I can warg into his hounds and have them turn on him."

Ned's blood ran cold as he stared at Bran, "That is a cruel and evil thing to do, Brandon!" he decried the suggestion, as Luwin stared at Bran, aghast.

"Why? He deserves it. It's how he was killed the killed the first time," Bran retorted in confusion.

Ned paled and turned to Jon in disappointment, "That is not how I raised you Jon. A Lord should be merciful- especially when executing someone!"

Jon glared at Bran, and ground his teeth in frustration. He gave a long sigh before speaking, meeting Ned's angry gaze without flinching. "I didn't execute him. I remember your lessons."

Ned frowned, "You were Lord of Winterfell...if not you...then who usurped your authority?" he demanded angrily.

Jon glared again at Bran before answering in a long suffering tone, "Sansa...it was Sansa."

Whatever answer he had been expecting...this wasn't it. "S...Sansa?" The ice had returned to his thawing spine, Sansa, his sweet Sansa had...

Luwin appeared just as flummoxed as he was, gaping at Jon and Bran, mouth wide open, his face pale and eyes wide in surprise, "Lady Sansa...she...she..."

Jon sighed again and put it into simple terms, "She fed Ramsay to his own hounds."

By the Old Gods and the New!

His mind couldn't reconcile innocent, sweet Sansa with this horrific act. He sat back heavily, his mind in a state of congruity. Damn it! Damn it all! Every time I think I have a grasp on what happened...they throw something like this at me! What else are they hiding from me?

"You probably shouldn't tell mother about this...she won't like hearing this," Bran suddenly added idly.

The irony of that statement coming from Bran, with how emotionless he had become was not lost on anyone in the solar.

Ned stared at Bran then Jon, as anger coursed through him...but not at his son or adopted son. He was angry at all fate had forced them through after he died.

Ned growled angrily, "It seems we have much to do...and I need to have a talk with Sansa."

"We should gather men in preparation for riding for the Dreadfort- though only once Lords Manderly and Reed arrive...," Jon trailed off and glared at Bran, "In the meantime...I need to speak to Bran," he rose from his chair and grabbed Bran's arm, dragging him from the solar without waiting for Ned's dismissal.

Ned didn't stop them and stared after them for long moments, before gesturing for Luwin to sit down.

Still pale and disturbed, Luwin lamented, "Ned...they've all changed....so much has changed." he hung his head mournfully.

"Aye...too much," Ned agreed.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Robert Baratheon

Robert hadn't felt this invigorated in a long time. He had finally returned to his rooms, his warhammer laid next to his chair, the blood still staining it's previously pristine surface. Well, the one he had used today, a small part of him admitted surly. It wasn't the one he'd used at the Trident or during the Greyjoy rebellion. That one had been too heavy for him to lift, he'd had to take a smaller one to deal with the unrest that had sprung up after...after whatever it is that was happening now.

He was invigorated, but enraged at the audacity of the Septon that called himself the High Sparrow. Daring to actually gather together a new Faith Militant? Daring to denounce him? His own king! Well he'd dealt with him just as he'd dealt with Rhaegar.

Robert smiled darkly remembering how the mewling coward had screamed as he caved in his chest. Damn, it had been too long since he'd had a good fight. Crushing this new Faith Militant in its infancy, crushing a defiant enemy was more satisfying then he remembered. The fight had gone out of most of the pious Sparrows after the High Sparrow was felled. He'd left Ser Mandon to deal with the remnants and retake the Sept of Baelor.

He grabbed a cup of wine from his table and drank deeply, enjoying the refreshing taste as it went down his parched throat. He drained the cup then quickly refilled it. This one he sipped at, as he sat down, weary, but a good kind of weary.

Thoughts swirled around his mind as he thought about what was happening, the chaos that was running through King's Landing, there had been fighting in the Red Keep, fighting in the Sept of Baelor and though nearly all of the districts of the city.

The Goldcloaks were in disarray, that much he knew, he'd seen Jonas Slynt strung up in the middle of a street, and many of his lieutenants had suddenly disappeared. As Master of Laws, Renly had actually had to take personal command of them and take to the streets to restore order. Robert snorted as he imagined his fastidious brother actually getting his hands dirty restoring order.

Robert paused thoughtfully, Renly had taken to his orders rather heartily. There had been a look his eyes that he hadn't seen before; fury.

And Loras Tyrell....Robert grunted angrily, that was bad business, the heir of Highgarden and the Reach was dead, though it explained where Renly's fury was coming from. And why he'd taken to the streets with such uncharacteristic vengeance in his eyes.

And the Lannisters for some reason had decided to disappear, every guard he saw was either sworn to House Baratheon or a Goldcloak, with a minuscule number of Tyrell men. No Redcloaks were to be found anywhere.

He frowned not liking this situation at all...as if there actually was anything he liked going on. Well apart from the rebirth of his bloodlust for battle.

He could hear voice suddenly arguing outside his door, he focused and quickly recognized Renly's.

"Get your arse in here Renly, and tell me what the fuck is happening!" Robert cried out.

The voices cut out and the door opened quickly, a figure stepped in, and for a moment he didn't recognize him. It was Renly but he'd never seen his brother like this before. He was in armour, disheveled with his hair tousled, his armour was scratched and spattered with blood. A far cry form the fancy form he usually tried to project.

A second figure followed behind, with a hand on his sword, "Your Grace, you cannot allow this traitor to stand here," grated out Ser Meryn Trant. The shifty eyed bastard glared at Renly.

Robert scowled, "Shut the fuck up, that's my brother you're talking about!"

Ser Meryn flinched at the King's angry tone.

Renly glared at the Kingsguard, "I've always been loyal to Robert," he sneered angrily.

Robert waved a hand angrily at the pair, "I know he named himself King after I died," he cast a glare at Renly, "But he's not going act against me now...are you?"

Renly swallowed once, "Of course not brother."

"But it's alright to act against Stannis?" Robert retorted with a stern glare.

Renly's face darkened, anger and...fear flashing in his eyes. He remained silent.

Ser Meryn was silent but, he was fidgeting, his eyes had a crazed look in them and his hand was white from clenching the hilt of his sword. His eyes darted back and forth looking at the shadows and everything around them, as if seeing threats everywhere.

"Stop fidgeting you dumb fuck!" Robert shouted in annoyance at Ser Meryn.

Ser Meryn froze and paled, he stilled himself, though Robert could still see one of his legs seemed to be trembling. He cast that aside and turned back to Renly.

"What in the Seven Hells has been happening in my city?" he demanded angrily. He gestured with hand offhandedly, "I know about the Faith Militant...I crushed that fucking High Sparrow myself."

Renly winced before nodding once, "We've restored a semblance of order. I've placed loyal Baratheon men in charge of the Goldcloaks."

Robert nodded, "I saw what happened to Slynt. You know why?"

Renly scowled angrily, "Yes, that piece of scum. It was the smallfolk. It was vengeance for his corruption and...for rounding up all of your bastards and murdering them in cold blood. Children and babes murdered by grown men!" he paused dramatically, "And it was all done at Joffrey's command!" he spat angrily.

Robert's blood ran cold as he stared in disbelief at brother. He knew he fucked a lot of whores and woman. He knew he had a lot of bastards...probably all over the Seven Kingdoms...but what would posses the little shit to murder his own siblings? Kinslaying at this scale? Just how wrong in the head was Joffrey?

His voice trembled as he spoke, "That little shit! Why would he do this?"

"Because he's not your son," Renly stated evenly. "None of Cersei's children are yours!"

"What in blazes are you talking about? Of course he's my son!" Robert angrily retorted.

"The Lannister whore cuckolded you." Renly retorted angrily.

He faced reddened in rage as suddenly the absence of all the Lannister guards took on a very sinister implication.

"And he executed Ned?" Robert asked in a dangerous voice. The wheels in his head turning in a dangerous direction.

Renly nodded, "Ned discovered the truth. So did Jon...It's why they murdered him."

Robert suddenly couldn't breath, the image of the kind and honorable man that had been like a father to him and Ned flashed before his eyes, he was shaking with fury, Jon...they murdered Jon Arryn?! "I'll fucking kill them! I'll kill them all!" was all his rage allowed him to say coherently in that moment. Jon murdered by the Lannisters?! And the children all bastards? And all his bastards murdered?

"...Pycelle hid it all. He knew the truth. I've had him thrown into the Black Cells," Renly finished vehemently.

Robert's eye twitched as his fury continued to grow. He grasped at it, holding tight to it. In a low and dangerous tone, he turned to Ser Meryn, "Bring me that little shit, first. I'll have the truth of this all...from all of them...." he commanded imagining just what exactly he would do to the little prick. And Pycelle. And Cersei. And all the Lannisters! He would make Casterly Rock, his Castamere!

Ser Meryn stood still and didn't make a move to obey, he shifted uneasily on his feet.

Robert glared, "What are you waiting for you fool? Go get Joffrey!"

Ser Meryn swallowed nervously, "He's dead your grace."

Surprise blossomed in Robert's gut and he shared a surprised look with an equally surprised Renly.

"...the servants found him beaten to death. They say...they say they saw the Hound leaving the Prince's rooms," Ser Meryn paused, "His armour was stained with blood."

"The Hound? Why would Clegane kill him?" Renly asked in bewilderment. "He was Joffrey's loyal dog."

Ser Meryn shook his head, "The coward deserted during the Battle of Blackwater Bay."

So he was yet another person that remembered the future? "What about the other Lannisters?" Robert asked quickly. A part of him was angry that he wouldn't get to kill the little shit. Another part couldn't really blame Clegane for doing it, considering how he had been treated by Joffrey.

"We have Cersei," Renly answered succinctly.

"And the Kingslayer?" Robert demanded irately.

Renly paused and Robert was taken aback at the look of rage that came to his brother's face, "He escaped with Tommen and Myrcella." He paused his face darkening further, fury etched on every part of his face, "He killed Loras."

Robert slammed his wine goblet down, denting the table and spilling wine everywhere, he rose angrily, "Gods damn it all!"

It was all a complete and utter debacle!

"He wasn't alone Robert..." Renly began.

Robert grunted angrily and gestured for him to speak.

Renly seemed to be bracing himself now, "Ser Barristan was with them. And the Hound."

Robert froze unable to believe his ears. Ser Barristan? The most honorable man of the Kingsguard, Barristan the Bold?! That Barristan? With the Lannisters? He shook his head trying to grasp what Renly was saying. And the Hound? If he just killed Joffrey...so what the fuck was he doing by the Kingslayer's side?

"And you couldn't stop them?" he exploded angrily at his brother.

"We tried...Loras..." Renly faltered for a moment at the name, grief overcoming his features, "...Loras died trying to stop them. They had too many men with them. We...I had Cersei hostage. She's in the Black Cells now, next to Pycelle."

"Then how the fuck did they get away?" Robert asked confusion and anger coloring his tone. Jaime would never willingly leave Cersei behind.

The grief in Renly's face disappeared and was replaced with confusion, "The Kingslayer...I had my knife at her throat. I threatened to kill..."

"And?!"

Renly gave Robert a strange unreadable look, "The Kingslayer...he told me to slit her throat and rid us all of her madness. And then they left her behind."

Renly's words were like a physical blow, they carried the weight of a heavy warhammer, Robert sat down heavily back into his chair, "The Kingslayer said..." he echoed in dumbfoundment.

Renly just nodded.

Madness!

Madness!

A new born Faith Militant, Barristan the Bold's betrayal, the truth about Joffrey, the unbelievable actions of the Kingslayer and the Hound.

Robert smashed his fist down again on the table angrily, his mind reeling with fury, "So they're conspiring to take the Iron Throne?! And in that fucked up future, you got killed by a fucking woman! By Brienne of fucking Tarth?!" he asked in disgust unable to grasp the enormity of all the revelations that were being heaped at his feet.

Renly looked at him in utter surprise, "Brienne? Kill me? Never! She would slit her own throat before hurting me! The sound of her anguished scream, that was the last thing I heard before waking up here again. It's still echoing in my ears," he paused shuddering, "I didn't know that a scream could have that much pain in it," he admitted in a quieter tone. "Who told you she killed me?" he then asked in surprise.

It was Robert's turn to frown in confusion, "That cold fish Moore did. If it wasn't her, then who killed you?" he paused before adding, "And really a woman protecting you? That's not smart."

"Brienne was a better fighter than Loras..." Renly lamented quietly. He edged towards Robert and pulled up to a chair next to him. He frowned, before bending closer, speaking in a whisper, "I was killed with magic, Robert. It was a shadow. A shadow...with Stannis's face."

Robert blanched and sagged down into his chair in disbelief, Stannis...a Kinslayer? And using magic?! How in the fuck does something like that happen? It was madness everywhere he turned.

He turned to the silent and fidgeting Ser Meryn, "You! Find a maester and send a Raven to Dragonstone! I want Stannis here now!" he turned back to Renly, "What ever the fuck happened between the two of you – no more!" Robert roared angrily. "We are brothers and I'll knock this into both of your heads!"

As Ser Meryn made to leave, but the door opened and in stepped, Ser Mandon.

"We've taken back the Great Sept," Ser Mandon reported loudly, his tone as emotionless as ever, his armour covered in blood and he had taken a cut over one eye.

Robert smiled wolfishly, "Good. And the ringleaders?"

"It was Lancel Lannister, he was leading the warriors of this new Faith Militant," Ser Mandon answered, "I've thrown him and the few survivors into the Black Cells."

Robert stared gaping. It was a while before he found his voice, "Lancel? That dumb weakling?" My idiot squire? Leading the Faith Militant?

Mandon seemed to twitch, he fingered a cut on his forehead, before speaking, "He wasn't that weak."

"Seven fucking Hells..." Robert gulped his wine before giving Renly a bewildered look, "What the fuck?"

Renly shrugged back helplessly, as surprised as he was.

Robert stared intently at Renly, "Tell me everything that happened after I died...then you two," he said pointing at Ser Meryn and Ser Mandon.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Maester Cressen

For the first time in a long time, Cressen was afraid and he didn't know what to do as he stared up into the lifeless eyes of Selyse Baratheon.

Lady Selyse swung silently in the air, suspended lifelessly from the rope she'd used to hang herself. He shook his head as he waited for the men to come cut her down. He hadn't believed it when the servants came to him screaming about their Lady....and yet here she was hanging from the branch of a tree in one of the few gardens of Dragonstone.

He'd sent a runner to Lord Stannis, but when he came, he hadn't said anything, he'd just stared for a long moment before staggering away without a word or a command, wine bottle clutched in his hand.

What had driven the woman to this?! The severe woman had always been not quite right in the head, beginning with how she still kept her stillborn children and ending recently in inviting a Red Priestess of R'hllor to Dragonstone...but this? What drove her to suicide? Did it have something to do with this remembering business?

Cressen didn't have to be a maester to realise it was connected to why Stannis was suddenly drinking heavily...and why Ser Davos had absconded from Dragonstone with Shireen.

What was happening? Why were the servants and guards whispering of remembering? Why were they being so tight lipped? Remembering what?

He shook his head, there too many unknowns and Stannis was refusing to speak of any of it all.

Finally the guards appeared and started bringing the corpse down. They finished quickly and looked to Cressen for orders.

Cressen shook his head sadly, "Take her to the Silent Sisters." he said gravely.

Without a word the guards obeyed and walked away with their macabre burden.

Cressen watched them for a moment before sighing and turning back, heading back to the main castle, at a loss. He had no idea what his next step should be.

With heavy, slow steps he continued forward, unsure of where he was going. He got lost in his thoughts and walked the halls, the exercise calming his spirits. The quiet was very calming, a balm for his strained nerves.

Wait a moment...

It was quiet, much too quiet. He cast a concerned glance around him and found himself very alone in the darkened corridors of Dragonstone. Even at this time, servants should be bustling about doing their chores and they should have started lighting the candles illuminating the corridors. The corridor should not be this dark. Guards should be patrolling.

Movement caught his eye and he saw single guard passing by the far end of the corridor he was in.

"You! Came here!" he called out quickly to the guard at the end of the corridor.

Guard was young, probably a new recruit, just learning his duties as a guard of Dragonstone. The young man looked about for a moment before obeying, "Yes maester?" he asked in an unsure voice as he approached.

"What's happening where are all the servants?" he paused, usually the guards would patrol in twos, not ones. "And why are you alone?"

The guard gave him disquieted look before answering, "Strange things, maester. I can't explain it."

Cressen frowned, before carefully asking, "What do you mean? What things? People remembering?"

The guard paled a little, "Aye, maester." he paused before continuing in a whisper, "they say they're remembering the future."

Cressen twitched at that madness, he'd heard that though...people had been tight lipped with him about that. "I heard that, but where is everyone?" he asked again.

The guard winced, and looked down, "They're...deserting. After Ser Davos left...so did so many of the others. They're few of us left now."

Cressen stared at the young guard aghast, before swearing silently, yet more madness was being heaped on him. He dismissed the guard with a gesture.

This smelt of magic. He knew one person that was well versed in magic, and as much as he despised her, this was probably his best bet for some answers. Cryptic answers but anything was better than nothing at this point.

He walked quickly and came to the Lady Melisandre's rooms, he stood outside her door and steeled himself as he raised his hand and knocked unhappily on the door.

He waited and time stretched out as there was no response to his knock. He frowned and knocked again, harder this time.

Still no response came.

He steadied himself and knocked even harder this time, "Forgive the intrusion, Lady Melisandre, I must speak with you!" he called through the closed door.

Still there was no answer.

His frown deepened and he took it upon himself to reach out and open the door, hopefully she would forgive his breach of decorum, entering a woman's room without her permission. The situation was dire, she would probably be understanding of the situation.

"My Lady?" he called as he stepped inside of the opulent rooms.

He clutched his nose as a foul odor assaulted his senses, he recognized it almost immediately, the stench of human waste. The room melt like a privy.

He frowned and stepped towards the hearth. The fire was roaring and bright, as Melisandre loved it. The better to commune with her Lord of Light, he thought in derision.

Her chair was in it's customary place and as he neared, he saw the Lady Melisandre sitting their idly and unmoving.

Was she asleep? "My Lady?" he called out again hesitantly.

He approached and he grew nearer he realised the pungent smell of human waste was coming from her.

He stood next to her now and yet she didn't react. He frowned deeply and stepped in front of her, standing between her and the hearth. She was sat there her eyes were open and staring and she was very still.

"Lady Melisandre?"

He waved a hand in front of her eyes as he took in her state. The eyes were open, but she wasn't reacting to him. The stench was definitely coming from her. He reached out and gently shook her, but still there was no reaction. The front of her dress was stained, as he watched drool dripped down onto the stain.

He stepped forward with trepidation and examined her as a maester, after a few moments he stepped back.

She continued to stare blindly at him. Her eyes were open but she could not see him. Between the exam and that, it took him a second to finally realise what had happened, even if he didn't understand how it had happened in someone so young.

Cressen pursed his lips as he stared at Melisandre, her body still lives but she was dead inside. A head seizure. Some sort of head seizure and....a very bad one. He'd seen this before but usually in the elderly. The drool was still pooling on her lips and dribbling down her chin, down onto her red dress.

Cressen rubbed his forehead in consternation, as he felt the beginnings of a headache forming.

Selyse, Stannis, whatever was happening with Shireen and Davos, and now this....

Despair was nearly overcoming him, he forced himself to think clearly, to ignore the mounting absurdities. Too many unknowns...

A raven to King's Landing. Yes, I can do that, Robert must know what's happening here.

With steady movements, he moved from next to Melisandre and left the living dead woman alone in her rooms, heading to the rookery.