Winter is Coming: House Stark Quest

It had taken some time, but you had guessed at what the Targaryen's plan might have been. It was not overly complicated. Stannis and Renly both possessed great hosts and strong allies in Westeros. Were they to meet in the field (as they had) a victor would likely emerge to begin projecting power across Westeros and solidifying their own line of House Baratheon. While Renly had no sons, he had a bastard nephew within Storm's End who could be legitimized and a handsome wife that could have bedded any black-haired guardsman to continue his claim.

And Stannis had Shireen.

None of that was unsolvable. The wildfire trap of King's Landing could have been used to destroy Renly and his line or Stannis and his. House Baratheon had never been as fertile as its neighbors to the west. But those who had followed the brothers Baratheon (or their false nephew) would never kneel to the Targaryens. Starks, Tullys, and Arryns who had lost kin and companions in the Rebellion. Lannisters who had burned too many bridges.

No, to remove the kings was insufficient. Westeros needed to be broken if the Targaryens were to reclaim it. It needed to be so weak and so desperate that anyone with say ten thousand men and a possible claim could secure it forever.

He had wanted one of you to take the city from the Lannisters without being broken by the other against the walls. He had hoped to distract you with his landing or Renly with the Dornish so that someone could grab the Iron Throne. Then the other would lay siege to the city with their armies and fleet. And then it would all explode.

More than a hundred thousand soldiers burning just like the smallfolk, like the Red Keep, like the Iron Throne.

It felt so... clumsy. So needlessly ruthless. But your victory over Lord Tywin had upended everything. It had brought an end to potential years of war and chaos. Perhaps the Targaryens had been counting on a long and drawn out conflict. To be sure they could not have been behind Queen Cersei's stupidity, but just a few spies could have allowed them to prepare for a predictable war.

It meant little now. Now they would be caught off guard and desperate to recalculate.

The Dornish under Prince Oberyn had not moved beyond Yronwood. Truth be told you were unsure if they were behind Aegon yet. Prince Oberyn may well have moved with the intention of seeing his so-called nephew face to face and only then pledging the vengeful spears of Dorne to his cause.

Randyll Tarly had met him there, you knew now, and brought with him Renly Baratheon's army. He had also brought with him Renly Baratheon's siege weapons. The Red Viper, you were told, had been a victim of a few incompetent scouts and a large stone hurled by a trebuchet (by far the finest way to do such a thing) into his appropriated chambers.

A few loyal Yronwood men opened the gates in the chaos and within minutes Lord Tarly was mopping up what remained of a demoralized and scattered band. Oberyn Martell's body was to be delivered to your army, along with a number of noble prisoners. Bastards and second sons, mostly, but also Prince Doran's eldest son and a blonde-haired maid that Lord Randyll alleged was one of the Prince's bastard daughters.

This had not been the army of Dorne then, but you had undoubtedly provoked them into conflict. Lord Cregan Stark's eldest son had died fighting for the Young Dragon in Dorne. With hope securing the peace would not be so risky for you. A plan was needed, to be sure. After all, Dorne may soon have a new ruler.

[] Lady Yronwood has been recovered by Lord Tarly. With her betrothal canceled, she is heir to your promise to her father. She may not know that, but she would make a fine puppet ruler and could be wed to a man of your choosing to secure her children's loyalty.
[] Edric Dayne will make a fine Lord of Dorne with the Martells broken. Pressing his (nonexistent) claim would shift power away from the Rhoynar. Perhaps a marriage to Arya could work as well, for he seems a decent enough lad.
[] The Daynes of High Hermitage descend from Ser Davos Dayne and Nymeria. You do not know this Lord Gerold but perhaps he will hope for power.
[] Prince Doran can have one chance. Surrender unconditionally and he and his line will be allowed to return to the realm (with hostages) and his brother's bones will be returned. You extended an olive branch with Ser Gregor's head and were met with silence.
[] The Prince of Dorne is an old and sickly man. Write to his daughter and ask for her compliance and surrender. With her wed to a man of your choice and any other claimants removed, Dorne could be secured. Or perhaps a different sort of arrangement could be made if you met her face to face.
[] Fuck it. Try to seduce the sexy blonde and name your bastard the Lord of Sunspear.
[] Write-In

Dorne would need to be secured, but that was a problem for the future just like the reconstruction of King's Landing. Aegon Targaryen and his supposed aunt were the last enemies in the south. You would join King Stannis' host in marching to remove them from the Riverlands. If they were still there, anyway.

And His Grace would need to be told of the victory against the Dornish. You sighed, thanked the messenger, and made your way to the royal pavilion. To see Winterfell again, even in winter time, after so long in this stuffy and honorless country. You neared the tent, stepping aside to make way for the exiting knight. Ser... Godry Farring, you wanted to say.

You took his extended hand and offered him a tired half-smile. "Good news for His Grace from Lord Tarly."

He stepped aside, gesturing. "Far be it from one such as me to prevent good news."

You entered, ready to get another grating interaction over with-

Something was wrong. The assassin had already drawn his blade, a thin piece of steel dripping with red blood, as you turned to face him. Ser Godry's face was rippling, melting from his skull like the wax of a candle. It raised a bony finger to its lips almost playfully and - faster than any man could be - it darted into the shadows.

But you were not just any man either. You were a gale of sharp teeth and grey fur slamming into a foreign killer as he ran through the darkness, your teeth sinking so deep into his throat as to crack the bones of his shoulder.

You did not need to enter the tent to know Stannis Baratheon was dead. You did so regardless. The last Baratheon had gone to join his kingly brothers. What he might say to them in the next world you could not know. You could only look to the present. And the present was on the path to rapid chaos.

Your scouts had reported that the Targaryens had departed from Saltpans only to land again in the northern Riverlands following the burning of the city. Aegon was so close. You could not afford division and uncertainty. That had been Renly's death. You would not underestimate your foe as he had. As Tywin Lannister had.

[] Send word to Storm's End and awaken the men. Shireen Baratheon is Queen of Westeros now.
[] There are moments where your choice is all that matters. You have won Stannis' victories and you are betrothed to his only daughter. The men will support you. Do not be afraid to leap. Take the throne.
[] Make no announcement beyond the murder and lead the army forward. The rest can come in time.
[] Fuck it and fuck the south. Let Shireen or Edric Storm fight Aegon. The Iron Throne is gone and this is your chance to break free from it.
[] Write-In

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