The Three-Headed Dragon: A Viserys Targaryen Quest Continuation [abandoned]

[Stardust&Scotch]

The Three-Headed Dragon flies triumphant in the summer breeze as the Targaryen Restoration defeated the Usurper Robert Baratheon, and brought the Lonely Dragons to their rightful home! King Viserys promises to usher in a new era of stability and prosperity, of laws and justice. With most of the Usurper's former Small Council standing trial, and now even Tywin Lannister, the Old Lion himself in chains, highborn and smallfolk alike begin to wonder if perhaps this is a king who means what he says, with varying degrees of comfort with the idea.


The North:

• House Stark has marshalled the North to pride of place in the King's allies, and Lord Eddard now serves as Master of Laws in the Small Council, with rumours abounding that either of his eldest children may wed one (or even both!) of the spare Targaryen heirs. Apart from the (expected and unregarded) bitter grumblings of Barbrey Dustin, the lords of the North are proud to have taken part in the Restoration, though some second sons and younger brothers have (very quietly) groused about feeling as turncoats against the Usurper, Robert Baratheon. Under the leadership of Lord Stark, the North has become an economic powerhouse to rival the Reach, and the Northern lords are making the most of this newfound largesse, as they all know well, "Winter is Coming."
• Lord Gerion Lannister of Long Lake, "The Lion in Winter", has welcomed his second child and first son, Jacen Lannister. Work has now begun in earnest on his keep with the end of the war and his return to the North, and he hopes to have his little family out of Winterfell, and the Starks' hair, by next year's end. It is said that young Lady Sansa thinks of young Lady Joy to be like a sister to her, and is displeased at the idea of the Lannisters departing.
• Domeric Bolton is said to have come down with terrible sickness after returning home from the war. Lady Dacey has managed the Dreadfort in her lord husband's stead, apparently causing some uproar in the town by dismissing many of the old lord's favoured servants and burning old heirlooms and keepsakes in a bonfire far from the castle's walls. The smell is said to have been repellent, and to have lingered for days.
• The Night's Watch has had its numbers bolstered after the victorious Restoration, though rather less than after the Rebellion fourteen years prior, as many belligerent lords and knights fought to the last rather than surrender or face taking the Black. Prominent among the new members of the brotherhood are the former Kingsguard Mandon Moore, and the irascible Randyll Tarly. They have also happily received an unexpected gift of many pigs from the Bolton lands, the locals for some reason no longer desiring them.
• Meanwhile, the Gifts have begun to be settled by demobilizing soldiers of the Golden Company and other sellsword companies. Houses Umber and Karstark have groused about 'southron upstarts and foreign pretenders' sitting on land they've rather unsubtly considered theirs, but they fall into a terse silence when confronted with the collapse of wildling raids making their way south from the Wall.

The Riverlands:

• House Frey is ascendant! Despite entering the war on the wrong side, somehow the ever-present house has turned its fortunes around. There are now six Freys in contention for lordship of keeps across the Riverlands, with young Olyvar Frey taking lordship of the Twins, supported by the younger generation of Freys against the other heirs and claimants. Called Olly the Unlikely by the local smallfolk, the rise of Walder Frey's eighteenth son (and 50th in line!) was as unexpected as it was bloody: after their elders wrought destruction upon themselves, the youngest Freys took to arms and raised Olyvar to the lordship, putting down any that stood against them and hoped to continue fighting against the Dragon and his allies.
• This is not to suggest the house has fully turned its sullied reputation around; many Frey men-at-arms and some prodigal heirs, stripped of lands, titles and protections by the new Lord Frey, have continued to raid and pillage across the Riverlands. Since their exile from the Twins, this party of Freys, led by Aegon 'Bloodborn' Frey, has acquired a small host of disaffected men, deserters, and other malcontents to form a Band of Bastards. They are quickly becoming the scourge of the Riverlands, and a problem for the King's Peace.
• Meanwhile, Lord Hoster Tully has been gracious about being stymied in his longstanding attempts to see his brother the Blackfish wedded off. Young Lord Edmure has become well-regarded among formerly aloof Riverlander lords, after his brief but successful tenure aiding the King as the Acting Master of Laws. Arranged marriages have started to be offered at a greater rate than he previously received, but Lord Edmure has been noted to spend a great deal of time in the company of Lady Roslin Frey, who has acted as Lord Olyvar's emissary and has become a confidant of the heir to Riverrun.
• The Whents of Harrenhal have spread word that they are inviting refugees from across the realm to come to their lands for protection and work and shelter. After acting as a 'hospital' of sorts during the battles of the Restoration, Harrenhal has apparently found a new life as a refuge and shelter for the wayward. The lands around the ruined castle have likewise begun to see some new life as new faces come to live and work on lands once considered haunted and foreboding.

The Vale:

• Jon Arryn returned home from King's Landing a broken man, and was not improved by sending his only son to King's Landing. This act, along with Ser Brynden's departure for the Kingsguard, led to such a fight between Lord Arryn and his wife that even the normally taciturn and insular highborn have remarked on its ferocity and cruelty from both parties. Many say it only ended because Lord Arryn struck her with enough force to separate her jaw. A heavy silence has since reigned in the Eyrie, some suspect only because of the bandages keeping the lady's jaw in place and mouth closed.
• Hill clansmen have been making a greater nuisance of themselves than usual, some even daring to attack the Bloody Gate. This has left many highborn of the Vale on edge, none more so than Lady Lysa. Whispers about the apparent weakness of Lord Arryn in the face of such brazen raids cannot be traced back to her, for obvious reasons, but suspicion lies squarely on her nonetheless.
• Other whispers have followed the nameless hero of the Bloody Gate – a servant of House Royce, said to have led a charge of immense mules and large feral goats that brought half the hillside down on the clansmen and routed the survivors with her ferocity. Knights of the Vale offer strenuous denials, that curiously never actually refute the details, focusing more on the unlikelihood of a servant or a girl or a pack of mules or feral goats driving away clansmen when armed and armored knights could not. Nonetheless, songs of 'The Lovely Goatherd' have started to trickle out of the Vale, with lyrics and rhymes as absurd as the stories behind it.
• An unnamed keep on the smallest of the Fingers was said to have been burned to the ground by a party of twenty cloaked men. Lord Royce Coldwater led his men to apprehend this party, but found none of the arsonists. Upon returning to Coldwater Burn, however, he had in his company some dozen wandering orphaned children. Lord Royce fed and housed them for the night, saying he wished to "question the little birds" about who or what they might have seen in the morning. He claims to be deeply embarrassed that they all somehow slipped his grasp before the following dawn and could not be recovered.
• Gulltown has been shuttered to the outside world after a ship's crew was discovered to be carrying the bloody flux. Reports out are limited and of dubious accuracy, but estimates go anywhere from seven-and-ten to seven-hundred taken in the past month. What all reports agree upon is that the plague has evaded all attempted control measures, and that some measures are suspected to be aiding its spread. The Arryns of Gulltown assure any who ask that things will be under control soon and economic activity will resume forthwith.

The Westerlands:

• The rapid one-two punch of Tywin's arrest and Jaime's abdication has left most of the Westerland lords reeling, which may have ended up helping Lord Tyrion claim power, as demonstrating calm and consistency seems to be the balm the Westerlands needed. Lords have come to proclaim fealty, and to renew offers of unwed daughters (notably, some have been of less high stature than the offers made only months ago to then-Lord Jaime – fourth daughters instead of first, and so on). Lord Tyrion has graciously accepted the former, and politely but strenuously rejected the latter.
• Ser Raynald Westerling brought the fealty of his father and the offered hand of his sister to the new Lord Paramount, but has remained by Tyrion's side after swearing said fealty and receiving polite refusal of said hand. Apparently the new lord and young knight have taken a shine to each other, which may be the most advancement Lord Gawen can hope for, for the time being.
• Men of Fair Isle have claimed to be seeing lights near the horizon of the Sunset Sea in the dark of night. However, no ships have come from the direction of these lights, and no ships sailing forth have found anything or anyone when they look. The Ironborn have been accused of some kind of shenanigans, but Lord Harlaw swears that no Ironborn are in that area, and none have any interest in harassing House Farman anyhow.
• House Lannister continues to be the eye of a whirlwind of events and incidents, as Lady Genna Frey arrived at Casterly Rock with her husband and eldest in tow and is said to have veryquickly stepped in to act as her nephew's steward and right-hand 'man'. Rumours abound that Lord Kevan hasn't been seen in several weeks because the Lady Genna locked him in the dungeons as part of her power grab. Whispers about the Frey men have abounded, questioning if they mean to take the Westerlands from House Lannister altogether as part of their realm-spanning conspiracy.
  • From the Hand of the King: Nothing nearly so drastic took place – Genna didn't swoop in so much as she dragged her idiot husband and eldest son away from the Riverlands to save their lives. Her three younger sons, and Cleos' boys, are part of Olyvar's court. And they promise to take Uncle Emmon's head should he or Cleos try to press their claim to the Twins.
  • Tyrion tells me that he all but begged her to take over for Kevan, because our nuncle cannot stop drinking and his work has faltered as a result, so he needed an aide he could trust. She's been doing well, he thinks, helping him keep things stable and rebuilding her old relationships with many of the lords' wives and daughters, and on top of this she's had the extra duty of keeping Emmon, Cleos, and Kevan out of sight and out of trouble.
  • He hasn't been locked in the dungeons. What she did might actually be worse; when he arrived too drunk to work or speak without slurring, and tried to take her place anyhow, she slapped him in full view of the family, hard enough to put him on the ground, and ordered him to stay out of her sight until he could make it three days without wine. He hasn't yet succeeded.

The Iron Islands:

• Maybe it's the return of the old dynasty. Maybe it's because King Viserys took down Robert, the bloody butcher of Pyke. Or maybe it's because he took down Tywin Lannister, and to their minds he did it "like an Ironborn", paying the Iron Price rather than with gold or with words. Regardless, the Iron Islands sit as firmly by the new king's side as any dragonseed. Calls for independence or renewed rebellion now are not quietly whispered at taverns or bantered between lords, but thoroughly beaten out of whoever was stupid enough to voice aloud the idea of turning on their now-beloved "Stormbreaker."
• The Iron Fleet, once destroyed by the Baratheons, is now reborn and sailing the seas alongside mainlander ships instead of hunting them. Under Lord Harlaw, many of the Ironborn have become privateers rather than raiders, accompanying mainlander ships as paid protection through pirate-haunted waters. Some at home might grumble about the Gold Price replacing the Iron Price and the Old Ways being waylaid once again by old Lord Quellon's ideals, but any captain asked seems thrilled. Baelor Blacktyde is claimed to have said, "We get as much gold to shield these Greenlanders as we would from boarding them, and we get to practice the Old Ways on any pirate stupid enough to cross us! Iron and Gold do us better together than either did alone."
• Balon Greyjoy is, by the words of the few servants that see him, unwell. What little hair he clings to is wiry and white, he is barely eating, and his mind seems farther afield with each day; he is said to fall silent for hours, staring out into the bay, then without prompting or incidence begin to scream at his father, or his brothers, or his sons, or simply put forth incoherent frothing while rushing about the ruins of Pyke; other times, he is said to be found scrabbling for bugs in the stonework or noisily slurping at standing water. It is quickly becoming a question of when, not if, someone new will sit on the Seastone Chair.

The Crownlands:

• Succession is the word on the minds of all as many Crownlands houses are now in question – chief among them Rosby and Duskendale. Renfred Rykker, the last Lord of Duskendale, died with Robert at the Trident, leaving behind two daughters and a pregnant wife. Rosby, meanwhile, has the sole remaining member of its house rotting in the Black Cells. There are no less than seven claimants unsubtly waiting in the wings for Lord Rosby's inevitable sentence and loss of his seat.
• Éoland Wendwater, a veteran of the Golden Company, has claimed the vacant Wendwater seat and quickly begun gathering unlanded horsemen and archers of the Company to his side. Lord Éoland speaks of forming a company of men to mind the kingswood and protect smallfolk within from predation by bandits. Others, however, are distrustful given that they remember the Kingswood Brotherhood … among them the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the King.
• Grand Maester Jace (as he is coming to be known to the folk of the Crownlands) has been a godsend, they say. His work in treating the few survivors of the Screams found within the Black Cells has made him a saint among dragonseeds, highborn and low alike.
• A Summer Islander ship, tall with billowing sails and loud with a boisterous crew, was said to be sighted entering the Blackwater Bay by watchers on Dragonstone and Driftmark, but has not appeared in any port, and is not known to have departed the Bay. No ships have reported seeing this alleged vessel in their travels through the Bay, nor any signs of a wreck for that matter.

The Stormlands:

• New hope rises for House Baratheon! After finding its future on a knife's edge with only a greyscaled daughter (and countless bastard nieces and nephews) to Lord Stannis' name, Lady Selyse has sent word that the blessings of R'hllor shine upon her house – she is pregnant. Rumours fly around, most being variations on themes of Lady Selyse being a witch who has gotten with dark powers for her new baby, but no rumour is quite so wild as the one that says upon receiving the news, a smile came to the infamously stony Lord Stannis' face.
• Some maesters say that history does not repeat itself but rhymes with itself, and surely future students of history will use House Connington as an example. Ser Ronnet and his bastard son Ronald Storm have been sent into exile as Lord Jon has returned to reclaim his family's seat and lands, with the blessing of the Crown. Lacking a wife and heirs of his own, he has named his estranged cousin's children, Raymund and Alynne, to be his heirs. The children have remained in Griffon's Roost of their own accord, or so Lord Connington says. This does fit with another piece of news, yet another rhyme of history: that Ser Ronnet has become an irascible and persistent drunk.
• Men cloaked in green and bearing the turtle of House Estermont have been sighted roaming the Stormlands since the tail-end of the war. Sightings of them have ranged from Storm's End to King's Landing, even as far as the Stoney Sept in the Riverlands and Casterly Rock, of all places. Lord Aemon claims no men of his house or banners have left Greenstone, and he has asked the Crown to declare a reward for these false Estermont men to be turned in with any found in their company, which he will gladly pay in full.
• Blackhaven has sent forth ravens declaring the firstborn child of Lord Beric and Lady Allyria to be Ashara Dondarrion. This is possibly the tamest news to come from Blackhaven, as red priests, scions of House Dayne, hillsmen from the Vale, and even Septon Luceon Frey are said to have been seen coming and going from the castle.
• House Caron's seat of Nightsong is currently being held by some wayward men-at-arms of House Frey and recently-widowed Mylenda Caron, as she claims herself to be the sole legitimate heir, and her three-year-old daughter Perra Frey is to inherit from her. The late lord's bastard half-brother Rolland Storm has angrily protested this, and means to petition the Crown for legitimacy to reclaim his home and evict his grasping cousin.

The Reach:

• Highgarden has become a much moodier place than in years past, with Garlan Tyrell tilting at shadows, Ser Loras moving about his family's keep like a ghost when he bothers to be seen at all, and long whispered conversations taking place between Lord Mace, his wife, and his mother. Lady Margaery has taken to being seen outside Highgarden more than within, and is supposedly on a first-name basis with half the smallfolk in the nearby town. Lord Willas has taken to accompanying her of late on these sojourns from the castle walls.
• Lord Dickon is said to have been floundering of late, finding himself so unfit for lordship that his sister and mother manage most of Horn Hill's business when they are not trying to find him a wife and quickly produce a new heir to House Tarly. Apparently his relationship with his older brother has never been better, now that they live in different places and their father is out of the picture – ravens fly back and forth from the Citadel at such a rate that some lords have taken to handing requests to House Tarly, knowing the Tarlys are more likely to get a prompt (and actually helpful) response than they are.
• House Florent's star is on the rise, and this has already led to conflicts with House Redwyne and House Tyrell. Lord Alester has been telling anyone who will listen (and many who would rather not) about his family's strong links to the Gardener kings of old, and has taken the unprecedented step of paying his taxes directly to the Iron Throne rather than to House Tyrell. Ser Imry has, according to some, taken to taunting the imprisoned Lord Paxter in his off hours, a charge that he strenuously denies.
• Septons in the Starry Sept have taken to giving sermons about virtue and moral character, declaring that the greatest among men is he who cannot be tempted or led astray by distractions and fancies. Septas, meanwhile, have apparently been stressing obeisance and submission as holy qualities to the young ladies in their care.
• Honeyholt has become a hive of activity as lordship has come into dispute after Lord Warryn's death in the Restoration. Among the two more prominent, if unlikely, claims being pressed are two different Lords Robert Frey, spurred on by their mothers Jeyne and Beony. Younger sisters of the late Lord Beesbury, they have fallen a long way from their early days of sisterly companionship, each accusing the other of trying to bribe, bully and bewitch their way to the top.

Dorne:

• Lady Mellario has returned from her long summering in her homeland of Norvos. She has sent a raven congratulating the King and Queen, and expressing regrets she was unable to attend their coronation. Her letter also speaks of many gifts that she hopes to bestow upon her daughter and grandchildren when she can see them. She has taken up residence in the Water Gardens, to accommodate the large household and retinue that accompanies her, but she makes her way to Sunspear with regularity.
  • From the Master of Whispers: A palanquin of hers does, at any rate – it arrives early in the morning and leaves after supper, with Martell men escorting it each way. My brother's wife continues to be unreconciled with our family, but she at least has the good sense to keep up appearances. I suspect she sends our men away from the Water Gardens each day so she doesn't feel like she's being watched by us. I am doing nothing to dissuade her of that fantasy.
    I likewise suspect she waited until crowns actually sat upon your heads before she even commissioned a ship from Norvos, and hopes to bend my niece to her will now that Arianne is Queen Consort. These things I cannot prove, but I know enough of Mellario to trust not one word from her hand nor one breath from her mouth, and neither should Your Graces.
• The Marcher lords of Dorne seem to have taken the king's messages of justice over vengeance, and working towards a lasting peace, closely to heart: relations between them, and the Marcher lords of the Reach and the Stormlands, have been noticeably improving. Noteworthy among these is a proposed betrothal between Lord Wyl's newborn heir and House Dondarrion's firstborn daughter, and House Tarly has enquired after suitors of Dorne for their unwed members.
  • I have heard that Melessa Tarly has enquired about Lord Franklyn Fowler's daughters, and if they are suitable to wed to young Lord Dickon. Nymeria was quick to tell me that neither would be amenable to such a marriage, but did not go into much detail. I do not think Lady Tarly knows this. But, she is a Florent by birth – if she is able to parlay this inevitable rejection into a consolatory engagement between her eldest daughter Talla to Prince Quentyn, the Florents will be even stronger than now. My brother will be mindful of this, but I believe you would wish to be as well, Your Grace.
• Lord Geoffrey Dayne of High Hermitage has disinherited and exiled his son Ser Gerold, in an effort to mend ties with young Lord Edric of Starfall and Lady Allyria of Blackhaven. The 'Darkstar', as he proclaims himself, is said to have gotten deep in his cups before he questioned Lord Edric's parentage and referred to his lady cousin as a 'Stormlander whore'.
  • Lord Geoffrey, if you can believe it, is obscuring the worst of his son's outburst. He insinuated that Lord Edric is a bastard born to Ashara Dayne by Lord Stark (which would conveniently put his line in contention to inherit Starfall, and the sword called Dawn) and he implied to have intimate knowledge of Queen Arianne. Normally, I would not bring this to your attention (and as an aside, I know his claims to be complete falsehoods: I have never trusted that boy, and never let him out of my sight whenever he was in the same lands as Arianne, let alone the same keep) but Gerold Dayne is a dangerous and grasping young man, and there is no telling what he might do now that he has nothing to lose. I will keep eyes on him and monitor him closely.
• Ser Gulian Qorgyle, with the blessing of his father Lord Quentyn, has invited Archmaester Perestan and select students of his, along with any members of House Tyrell who are interested, to come to Sandstone. He claims to have found the lost army of Harlen Tyrell, somewhere in the sands between Hellholt and his home, and believes that there may be historical value to the find.
  • To be quite truthful, I do not know if this is accurate, or if Ser Gulian means to take the Reacher men for fools. I would like to pretend that the latter is more believable, as Harlen's garrison is said to have set out from Hellholt for Vaith to attack Sunspear – the opposite direction of Sandstone entirely – but as a Dornishman I have no difficulty believing that a Reacher army could get that turned around in the deserts. If it is true, this will no doubt serve as an unhappy lemoncake to end the Fat Flower's feast of humiliation that has been this year.

Elsewhere:

• From beyond the Wall come whispers of a mysterious man appearing in many settlements and approaching hunting parties. He is said to be pale of hair and skin, garbed in black and red, and bearing a sword made of flame. He speaks of an ancient enemy and is beginning to muster an army of Free Folk to combat it. When some others of the Free Folk approach him, with intent to attack or drive him off, he's said to vanish as if he was never there.
• Sarnor and the cities of Slavers' Bay have not seen the true sun in weeks, as the sky is ever clouded by the choking ash and smoke from the burning of the Great Grass Sea and Vaes Dothrak. The air itself is red in the easternmost Free Cities, and there has been a series of brutal repressive actions taken in Qohor against R'hllorite revivals in the midst of such a clear omen.
• A small khalasar, numbers dwindling and desperation rising, was cut off and unable to retreat into the mountains with the rest of the Dothraki Remnant in the face of Alesander's pillage. Instead, they turned north, and fled into the forests of Ifequevron. The few of Alesander's men brave enough to scout into the realm of the trees have found no trace of the khalasar, and a few madmen among them claim to have seen trees move and speak to one another.
• The Ibbenese are said to be out in force with their massive ships after a small trading fleet was lost at sea. Survivors speak of many different horrors, from a kraken that became a man and then a kraken again, to a dread serpent like a dragon without wings, to a pale and battle-scarred leviathan – though any who claim to have seen one swear they never saw any others, and proclaim their witnesses to be liars.

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End-of-Year Bonus POV Interludes: Pick 2

[ ] Ice and Fire: Jon Snow, unmoored and uncertain, has a heart-to-heart.
[ ] Brother and Sister: Beyond the Wall, a fateful meeting occurs.
[ ] Shadow and Flame: Riddles and codes disguise a message between two, biding their time, about a third.
[ ] The Basilisk and the Kraken: Two good at fighting and shit at talking, try to talk and not fight.
[ ] A Lion Still Has Claws: "And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours."
[ ] The Lovely Goatherd: "Knights of the Vale hate to hear the taunt of 'Lay-ee-odl-lay-ee-odl-oo'!"
[ ] The Climb: When the only way up is down, what's a Lady of the Vale to do?
[ ] For the Night is Dark and the Sky is Red: Priests of the Lord of Light have a plan. They think.

Spoiler: Author's Note

So, welcome to the end of the year, and your rumour mill! This will function as a collection of news, stories, events and rumours, all of which have varying degrees of accuracy and attachment to reality. Whether this will be quarterly, semi- or annually, I haven't yet determined. I suppose that will depend on how eventful your year(s) turn out to be! Some stories will have added insights, clarifications or details, depending on the region and what resources your Master of Whispers has there -- at the moment, Prince Oberyn has eyes and ears across Dorne, but his network can be expanded as time goes on.

Either before or after the interludes, there will also be an intelligence report from the Cartel under Garret of Saltpans, offering more insight into happenings in Essos. Then we're onto 298 AC!

 

[Vocalist]

Also, if anyone wants to adapt lyrics for "The Lovely Goatherd" to mock Vale knights needing a girl on a mule to save them from mountain clansmen, that'd be worth an omake bonus.

Click to shrink...

The Lovely Goatherd
High on a hill was a lovely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Sharp were the ears of the lovely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo
From her post that was quite remote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Lusty and fierce from the clansman's throat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo
O ho, "Help us, oh help us," o ho, "Help us," they cried!
Valemen, knights in their flower, faced the clansmen and died!

Knights whose hope was but a mote heard
Bray ee ode bray ee ode bray hee hoo
Clansmen grabbing some loot to tote heard
Bray ee ode bray ee ode brough
A damsel preparing to slit her throat heard
Bray ee ode bray ee ode bray hee hoo
A falcon soaring the winds afloat heard
Bray ee ode bray ee ode brough
O ho, down the hillside, o ho, the stones they spoke!
When they faced the charging goats, the clansmen fled and broke!

Riding a mule with a shaggy coat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Far and farther from the lovely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo
Even so she refused to gloat for
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
What is she to a knight of note? Oh,
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

 

[Magoose]

A Night Alone:

(Viserys POV)

You had never really been one for protocol, nor for tradition. You had been living far to much of your life in the freedom of Valar to remember that there were things like protocol, traditions, and stupid rules that your forebearers had come up with to enjoy any real freedom.

Perhaps it was by design. Aegon had been obsessed with duty, and the forging of a realm that would last past his death, that even Tragedy and devastation among his own family with the loss of Rhaenys and the maiming of Orys. Or was it Jaeherys that you should blame, for codifying everything else that was Targaryen traditions and protocol.

Sleeping alone or ignoring your children was something that you refused to.

Sleeping alone from your wife was something that you ached to accept, but Jacaerys had finally given her a clean bill of health.

But you did not weep or care… because you stood above the crib of your children with a smile on your face. You had told the wet nurses to go fuck themselves when they had said that being with you and Arianne was not healthy for them. You wanted to be the one who cared for your children as much as you were able.

They may be served to by Arianne's request and the wet nurses cared for them during the day while you ruled your kingdom… but at night, when the day was done, the sun was set and you could drop the regal gaze and glare and protocol, in the safety of your chambers (as safe as they could be, you had prepared enough hidden weapons to at least defend yourself before Asher or Arys could break down the door come to your rescue) that you allowed yourself to be possibly your most important title.

A Father.

Your father was never a presence in your life… for good and ill. You only had the memories of a distant man, driven mad by his paranoia, of fear that the world was out to get him and his own.

Sure he was right, but that was mostly from his own doing. After all, burning men alive who happened to be some of the most important men in the realm.

But it was your mother you were close to… she had always protected you from the worst of your father's mad ravings and violence, especially near the end… when your father's madness truly consumed him. Where all he saw were enemies around him, even among his family.

You were on Dragonstone in hiding when your mother arrived… when she had been raped and assaulted by your father.

Yet somehow she remained strong, for you, until the very end.

You wanted to be better than the man who was your father… and you wanted to be as strong as the mother who gave you everything until the end.

You looked through the world, at your children with your shatter point...something you did with care and carefulness. You did not want to hurt them… or hurt yourself.

Aemon was obviously very much like you, so very much like you when you saw the only sliver of cracking in his body that only connected to yourself and Arianne. But instead of trying to break the points, it was like he was mending it, his smile and cooing at you as he slowly drifted off to sleep was something that made you smile warmly at him.

Elaena was easier to read, but only one crack appeared as well… between her and her brother. They cared for each other that even you could not understand, and they were only babes. Some strange understanding that only twins seemed to have.

"Viserys, it's time for bed." Arianne stated as you turned, your eyes blinking as rubbed your face. The twins were falling asleep under your supervision, something that Arianne found quite comforting, meaning they would not soil themselves for at least a few more hours, deep in the night.

Of course, changing them was the least popular parenting chore that you both subjected yourselves to. The price of being part of their lives… even though you wanted it.

You gave a small smile and waltzed over to the bed. You had only a had a bed this big once, back in Volantis, stuffed with wool and cotton, as soft as a cloud… but in Volantis, you also had sex slaves who enjoyed the… well, you were sure Beshka and Asha would enjoy their company. "You know, I never fail to meet the demands of my lovely princess?"

Flattery and pillow talk was always something you two enjoyed, even when the sex was far more active. But it was late and the children were here. It was not appropriate.

Arianne's smile was so infectious that you grinned even more. "Oh my king, shall we just compliment each other like the other nights, or will you tell me what troubles your mind."

She knew you so well. Your smile was forced, your longing gaze was at your children… of course, she would ask. But it was enough to allow the facade to fall. You couldn't lie to her, not like the others. There was too much she had given to you for such disrespect to occur. After all, she had given you your children, and she was your family. "I never expected this… I never knew what I wanted out of life. I thought I wanted the glory, the throne, the wealth, the power, the intrigue… but in the end, I just wanted this… I wanted my family."

Promise me my little dragon… promise me you will keep her safe. Your mother's final words once again played in your mind. It had been like years since you last heard her voice in your mind, slowly her image was slowly fading away into the memories of your past. A bloodied face, a hand, a crown, and a babe.

But the babe was all that remained… save for the crown that laid at the small shrine to your mother.

You had wished to find the portrait of her that was in the keep, the one that was commissioned on your birth… the one with Rhaegar, your mother, and you.

The only one without your father.

"Is this too much?" Arianne asked as she pulled you into bed. She was so beautiful that you wished that her beauty was captured in a portrait.

Maybe you would commission one soon, to commemorate your first year as king. Hire a master… or blackmail one to do a portrait for free… perhaps?

Anything to save the crown money.

Oh, what were you thinking about again?

Oh right, the most beautiful woman in the world.

"No, I think I want to see more?" you smiled with a smile.

"Now now Viserys, I'd rather wait a few more months before we start trying again." She said with a glance going back to the children. "These two are hard enough without us both trying to give them siblings."

You sighed. She was very persuasive. "Very well. But when the time comes, you know what I shall do?"

Arianne already knows what you wanted… and what she wanted in turn. "I hope that this dragon," The kiss was quick and chaste, almost teasing you in its quickness. "Will prove to me that he can conquer me again. After all, we Dornish do not fall so easily to Dragons."

You looked at the candle that was next to you, the last source of light before the night consumed the room.

"I think I can prove it when the time is right." You said as you blew the candle out.


AN: Enjoy like an hour of work.

 

[Stardust&Scotch]

Spoiler: Quick Author's Note

Writing has become somewhat complicated these past few days -- my laptop has decided it's a fantastic time to become unreliable, and the new dog has decided that there's no better use of my time than to love him and pet him. And he's very difficult to argue with. The next interlude will be up soon, no later than New Year's Eve.

Oh, and if you're into supplementing your reading with music, S6's "Hear Me Roar" is a great companion to this interlude, especially the end.

Days bled one into the next, hard to distinguish one from the other in the dark of the Black Cells. Even in his comparative luxury within the dungeons, Tywin Lannister had little light offered in his lonely, empty cell block. A torch burned near the door that accessed the block from the spiralling staircase beyond, but it was one torch, and it was a dim light that graced his cell when it graced him at all. Enough light to be awake and aware by, but so little that he could find sleep without issue while it burned. He wasn't certain how often his guards (either Ser Warrek or the Mountain's wretched, lesser brother) brought food and water or replaced the torch in the hall – it might have been a regular schedule, that might allow him some understanding of time's passage, or it might have been random, designed to confound and disorientate a man's sense of time.

Beyond the doubt around that circumstance, Tywin found no torture coming for him. No interrogation, no brutality, or discourtesy beyond his guards' refusal to speak with him. It was maddening in its own right, wondering if this was the day the young king would come to emulate his father and see him tortured or burned. He'd been told a trial was in his future, certainly, but Aerys had considered the flames of wildfire to be appropriate judge, jury, and executioner all at once – who was to say Viserys wasn't the same, beneath his mask of propriety and sanity?

There was no question of that for him – the boy had to be mad. Or stupid, but there was less evidence to support that. Running a merchant enterprise and a military campaign did not make one suitable to be king, did not necessarily confer wisdom, foresight or discretion, and such things were clearly not in the boy's arsenal. He was superficially charming, to be sure, but so was Littlefinger, and no one dreamed of him being trustworthy, or fit to rule anything larger than a ledger. He was also a Targaryen, prone to madness and vicious streaks as long as Tywin was old. And beyond that, the boy had the crippling weakness of needing to prove he was the smartest one in the room, having clever schemes and well-laid-out designs that meant he profited no matter what happened.

Well. Impressive as his own entrapment had proven to be, Tywin remained doubtful of the boy's stability and suitability. He was so confident in his estimation of the people around him, of people he met, that he didn't plan for the possibility of being wrong. For instance, he hadn't considered that Tywin might have planned for unforeseen eventualities, too, or that a clawed animal was never more dangerous than when it was pressed into a corner.

Beyond the range of his vision, the cellblock door creaked open, and Tywin smiled. The gait that approached was not the clipped, even steps of Ser Warrek, nor the lumbering strides of the Hound, but a scampering, hastened step, and quickly enough a man of the City Watch stood before his cell. A stout fellow with the face of a hog and the squealing voice of one, too, but a man of use, especially since his former, more reliable tool resided in a box in the Prince of Dorne's possession.

"It took you long enough," Tywin chided. While he couldn't be sure how many days had passed, he felt confident that many had, many more than should have been necessary.

"I'm sorry, my lord," the goldcloak said in his reedy voice. "It has taken this long to be one of the goldcloaks that brought someone to the Black Cells, and I don't know how long I have before my partner wonders where I am."

"Partner?" Tywin arched an eyebrow.

"An idea of the Prince," came his answer, "having goldcloaks go around in twos and threes. No bigger groups without his direct orders. Makes it harder to slip away unseen."

He waved his hand. "Well, no matter. What news can you bring me?"

"Only what rumours make their way to me," the man grovelled. "I know Ser Jaime's become Hand of the King, and the Imp has taken his place in the West. Begging your pardon, my lord."

"No, the title is one that fits," Tywin said through gritted teeth. "Continue."

"I've heard that the Lady Genna has taken over Lord Kevan's duties, and he hasn't been seen by many."

"No other women in the Rock?" He enquired.

"None I've heard about," answered his catspaw.

That's a relief, Tywin thought. If the whore had returned or been brought back, even one as thick as him would have heard of it. "Have you anything else to tell me?"

"No, my lord." The man shrugged. "The dragons have been keeping things calm."

We shall just see what we can do about that. "As soon as you are able, you will bring me paper and ink. In your off hours, find a raven-for-hire outside of the Watch or the Red Keep. You will dispatch several letters for me, and once that is done you will leave the city." A pause came as the man visibly worked to commit his orders to memory. "You recall where you left young Lancel's remains?"

"I do, my lord, they're—"

"No," Tywin cut him off. "Tell me nothing of it. Should they wish to torture me for information, I want to have nothing of value for them." The fat goldcloak shuffled, eyes holding struggle as Tywin suspected the man was trying to think about something. "You have something to add?"

"Just that I've heard nothing of torturing, my lord," he managed to get out. "Dragons don't seem to like the idea, so I hear tell."

Interesting. "Be that as it may, if they should begin, I want no new information to give to them."

The beady eyes looked confused. "So, should I not bring word from the outside?"

Eeuuurrrrgh, Tywin barely held within. "Rumours and news are nothing they don't also hear. That you may tell to me." To have a creature of the slightest more wits than this one, he wished briefly.

"As you say, my lord."

"Good. Now," Tywin went on as though he hadn't been interrupted, "once you have done what is needed here, you will recover the boy's remains, and deliver them to his father. Only to him, do you understand?" At the nod he received, "Good. Now leave me, before your 'partner' becomes another problem to correct. Bring paper and ink as soon as you are able."

"As you command, my lord," came his final response, and Ser Amory Lorch left the cellblock as quickly as he had entered it.

Already, Tywin Lannister was composing the letters he intended to dispatch, and determining who best to receive them. The catspaw in Long Lake should serve my purposes well enough, he thought, and if the maester hasn't been changed in Casterly Rock, he should bring a letter with my writing direct to the Lord of the house. It was the closest he could come to acknowledging who presently held the seat.

The realm could ill afford another war; three inside of fifteen years had already brought Westeros near to its breaking point. And while he did not like or trust the young king, he knew even less of the one they claimed to be Rhaegar's son, and the realm could likewise not survive another Dance of Dragons battling for the Iron Throne, or a regency for the infant Prince Aemon if neither of Viserys' siblings took the crown. So direct action against his enemies was out, Tywin was forced to concede.

So, too, he could not bring harm to Jaime, even now. With Joanna's death, he had lived in no small part by looking on her image in their children; but now one mirror of her semblance was again spirited away, one cracked into pieces by death, and for succession he had but one false glass that grieved him when he saw the riot and disorder it indulged. A shred of hope remained in him that, given all these years no whores had come forth with screaming mouths and outstretched hands, perhaps the least of the Lannisters was unable to bring forth a new generation to stain the family line – and therefore, Jaime might yet be obliged to return and continue their name, unless he wished to let it fall into hands lesser still than the Imp's. A snarl crossed Tywin's face for a moment as he imagined his nephew, Cleos Frey, becoming Lord of Casterly Rock, and his stomach turned.

But while he could not bring harm to Jaime, that did not mean he could not be punished. An idea came to him in that moment, one that made him smile in a manner that would be seen as most unpleasant, if any but the ghosts of the Red Keep could see it. When he was done, the Rains of Castamere would not be the most lasting impression on the Westerlands that Tywin Lannister left behind him. He worked the predatory grin off of his face, and returned his mind to work.

 

[Stardust&Scotch]

The first full year of your reign has begun. Life is complicated, but good; your family sits as kings in their desires; your enemies are largely in chains or in the wind; your realm is restive but not in revolt; and the wheel turns ever on.

Special Projects (not required; may choose one)
These will take most of the year to plan and execute.

[ ] A Royal Progress: A grand tour of the realm hasn't been done by a Targaryen in almost 200 years. You would tour the Seven Kingdoms over the course of the year, holding court in various locales as you went. Most of the Small Council would remain in King's Landing to perform their tasks.
[ ] Hail the Conquering Hero: A grand tour of the former Freehold has its appeal to you, and it never hurts to remind the Free Cities that Westeros is the world power on this side of the world, not them. You would tour select Free Cities and surrounding areas over the course of the year. Most of the Small Council would remain in King's Landing to perform their tasks.
-[ ] Write-in four Free Cities/regions to tour, subject to QM approval. Andalos or Selhorys are acceptable write-ins, for instance, while Yi-Ti or Qarth are not.

Projects (pick two per category)

Diplomacy
Advisor: Ned Stark
[ ] Princess of Songs: Few things can capture minds and sway opinions like a good song. If Dany writes something good enough, and you pay bards to play it in the right places, you can stealthily change the public opinion. DC 60. Reward: Improve Happiness, change public opinion on a topic of choice. (5,000 Dr)
[ ] The Rule of Law: You have two former Small Council members and a former Lord Paramount in chains, all credibly accused of horrific crimes. You will see that the trials are held in public, and that a clear message is sent to the Seven Kingdoms: no man is above the law. DC 75. Reward: trials are held publicly, highborn may be uneasy (15,000 Dr) (locks for 2 rounds) (mutually exclusive with "The Rule of Men")
[ ] The Rule of Men: You have two former Small Council members and a former Lord Paramount in chains, all credibly accused of horrific crimes. You will just get through this as quickly and normally as possible, and the wheel will turn as usual. DC 45. Reward: trials are held in the Red Keep and attended only by the highborn, unrest is unlikely (5,000 Dr) (mutually exclusive with "The Rule of Law")
[ ] Frey'd Lines: Many Houses across the Riverlands, Stormlands and the Reach are now in contention over who should inherit -- with a truly alarming number of men from House Frey in the wings. Lords Hoster, Mace and Stannis can only do so much, and they have asked for Royal assistance in settling these matters. DC 50. Reward: inheritances are settled, some lords may be displeased with results (2,500 Dr)
[ ] Befriending the Banners: The Crownlands are unique among the kingdoms, in that they answer directly to you. Although these lords can be eccentric, they are yours, and you want them loyal. You'll host a series of feasts and worth through inviting them all, to listen to their concerns and assure them of your goodwill. DC 45. Reward: improved relations, information. (30,000 Dr)
[ ] Alliance and Allegiance: Thanks to the Usurper, the notion of fostering children away from home leaves a bad taste in almost everyone's mouths, especially to foster them in King's Landing. Another time-honoured tradition of forging ties between houses is to arrange (and occasionally host) weddings. DC & cost varies by proposed alliance/marriage, and if the Red Keep will play host to the nuptials (write-in a pairing, subject to QM approval)

Martial
Advisor: Stannis Baratheon
[ ] Pomp and Circumstance: You know what everyone (except Stannis) loves? Tournaments. Throwing a lavish tourney is a surefire way to improve the mood of your subjects noble and common alike (saving, perhaps, the Master of War). Young, bold knights will be eager to make their names on the field, and disgraced houses will be hopeful to earn favour with good showings. DC 50, improve Happiness of King's Landing, improve your reputation with attending nobles, participants may improve their Martial. (60,000 Dr)
[ ] Bastards' Bane: While the War of the Restoration has officially ended, bandits and raiders still pillage areas of the Crownlands and Riverlands, the Band of Bastards being a particular thorn in the ass. With your blessing, Stannis would ride forth with a small but respectably sized force, and stamp this nonsense out. DC 55, predations upon the smallfolk end, some lords may be annoyed at the imposition. (7,500 Dr)
[ ] A Gold Standard: The City Watch is poorly equipped, poorly trained, and you're as likely to find an extortionist as you are a good man in the uniform. Aegon would like your permission (and the aid of the Master of War) to clean house, get proper men, proper equipment and proper training. DC 60. Reward: increase quality of the Gold Cloaks to Trained/Full Strength. (15,000 Dr) (locks for 2 rounds)
[ ] Rebuilding the Fleet: The Royal Fleet took quite a beating during the Restoration. You should get started on building more ships, and hey, you have all the materials you could want for the task. DC 50. Reward: increase the fleet's numbers to Full Strength. (Free) (locks for 2 rounds)
[ ] Master and Commander: Stannis has been toying with the notion of a naval academy, an institution to teach sailing and sea-based warfare to any who would learn. The idea has its merits, and it also has its detractors. DC 65. Reward: begin instituting Stannis' naval academy (30,000 Dr)* (locks for 2 rounds)
[ ] The Kraken's Men: Many men can sail and many men can fight, but few can sail and fight like the Ironborn can. Your Master of Ships is floating the idea of training a small, elite force of Ironborn that can fight at land or sea. DC 65. Reward: found the Iron SEALs. (15,000 Dr)* (locks for 2 rounds)

* these two tasks can synergise with each other, lowering costs and DCs by 30%.

Stewardship
Advisor: Harry Strickland
[ ] Renegotiate Debts: The Usurper left the realm in perilous financial states, and one way to amend this is to renegotiate the terms of the loan the Crown made from the Iron Bank. DC 65. Reward: possibly renegotiate interest rate and/or repayment schedule. (10,000 Dr)
[ ] Nests Within Nests: You can't tell much, given the state of recordkeeping towards the end and the nature of those involved, but you do at least know that Petyr Baelish had a bizarre web of influence and ownerships, the boundaries of which even you couldn't begin to guess at. You'll task Ser Harry with trying to disentangle this Meereenese knot. DC 90. Reward: Baelish's 'ledger' becomes comprehensible, a more complete picture of finances and assets gained. (7,500 Dr) (locks for two rounds)
[ ] A New City: King's Landing is overcrowded; anyone can see that. About the only thing that can be done at this point is to organize the settlement of a new district. This is going to be a massive and years-long project. DC 40. Reward: Complete the planning stage for the new district. (5,000 Dr)
[ ] Brown Bile: King's Landing's sewer system dates back to the reign of King Jaehaerys I, when the city was a lot smaller. You want to expand and modernize it into something that will keep the city, as much as possible, from smelling like human waste. DC 70. Reward: begin work on new sewers, increase Health significantly when the project is completed. (50,000 Dr) (This project must be succeed 5 times to be completed)
[ ] A Stable for Dragons: The ruins of the Dragonpit still stand atop Rhaenys' Hill. Now that there are dragons living in King's Landing again, you might want to rebuild it so you have a place to keep them by the time they're old enough to really cause trouble. DC 50. Reward: the Dragonpit is rebuilt. (75,000 Dr) (This project must succeed 4 times to be completed)
[ ] Fools' Errands: the maps of the world have largely looked the same for centuries (save for Valyria becoming an archipelago of misery and death). The Shivering Sea seals away the North beyond places like Hardhome and the Wall, the Sunset Sea has never been defined beyond the Targaryen Islands (not terribly far to the West) the East is legends and mysteries beyond Yi Ti, and none since Jaenara have ventured beyond the coasts of Sothoryos. You'd like to do something about this, beginning by funding some ships to start mapping as much of the world as possible. DC 80. Reward: an "Outbound Fleet" takes shape, and exploration of the world begins anew. (65,000 Dr)

Intrigue
Advisor: Oberyn Martell
[ ] Develop Spy Network (Region): Set your Master of Whispers to finding informants. You want to know what your lords are trying to keep hidden. DC 70. Reward: get additional insights along with the standard rumors that everyone hears. (25,000 Dr) (Please specify region when voting) (may be taken twice for multiple regions)
[ ] The Red Keep's Ways: The Red Keep is riddled with secret passages. Everyone knows this. Fewer know the location of even one. Oberyn, with the help of the Sand Snakes, can find them all. DC 60. Reward: gain complete knowledge of the Red Keep's secret passages. (Free)
[ ] Sins of the Father: Your father's last mad plan never came to fruition, but it left a lot of wildfire scattered around the city, and Jaime doesn't know the locations of all the caches. You'll start trying to quietly track down a paper trail or anyone who knows of something strange. DC 75. Reward: locate the lost wildfire caches. (5,000 Dr) (This project must succeed 3 times to be completed)
[ ] Little Fingers, Large Shadows: The only remaining member of Robert's Small Council at large, former Master of Whispers Petyr Baelish has somehow vanished from the world. This cannot be. You'll find him somehow, someday. You'll start by tracing his past, his movements and his dealings. No one can just disappear, he has to have left some kind of trail. DC 80. Reward: begin gaining information about Baelish, his assets and his disappearance. (10,000 Dr)
[ ] Three is Auspicious, but…: More dragons are better, right? You came across your three dragon eggs by chance, but surely these were not the only three eggs left in the world. DC 85. Reward: possibly discover other dragon eggs??? (15,000 Dr)
[ ] The Lonely Dragons: At the moment, the entirety of House Targaryen consists of you and your infant children, your sister, and your nephew (and your unacknowledged other nephew, Snow). Is it possible that there's more family out there? Your father and brother may have had bastards, and who knows how many female relatives married into other families? Your knowledge of your family tree is woefully incomplete, and you would know more. DC 50/75/100. Reward: learn more about the branches of the Targaryen family, ??? (15,000 Dr)

Learning
Advisor: Grand Maester Jacaerys
[ ] The Iron Throne: You have an odd sense about the Iron Throne, like there's something to the smallfolk tales that it's cursed. It's definitely not just a throne of half-melted swords, you know that much for sure. You'll have the Grand Maester look into it. DC 80. Reward: gain information about the Iron Throne, ??? (1,000 Dr)
[ ] The Higher Mysteries: Magic exists in this world. Your dragons are proof of it. Your dreams are proof of it. Seven Hells, whatever nightmarish things Euron Greyjoy got up to would also qualify. But it is an unknown to you. This is where your request to the Citadel regarding the new Grand Maester comes in. DC 55. Reward: learn about magic, ??? (5,000 Dr)
[ ] The Dragon's Bane: Wildfire was an obsession of your father, and of other Targaryens before him (Aerion 'Brightflame' makes your father look sane in contrast). You like a bit of fire and destruction as much as the next dragon, but maybe there is something else here? DC 60. Reward: gain understanding of wildfire's properties, potential uses (10,000 Dr)
[ ] What Made the Red God Red?: Lord Stannis Baratheon and his wife Selyse are open devotees of the Lord of Light, after a servant of the Red God saved their daughter's life. A Red Priestess named Melisandre was once so interested in meeting you she put a bounty on you. Just what is the deal with the Red God and his followers, anyway? DC 50. Reward: gain information about R'hllor and his disciples (2,000 Dr)
[ ] On Crowns They Hung the Dragonfire: Three dragons now live in King's Landing, and they are, for now, obedient and under control. Dany has great instincts, informed by her old book of Valyrian tales and myths, but you would really like additional information, and there must be more out there than just this book. DC 85. Reward: find out more about dragon rearing, training and maintaining (7,500 Dr)
[ ] Silence Lay Steadily Against the Wood and Stone: You know hardly anything about Summerhall, one of the darkest marks in your family's long and checkered history in Westeros. Your brother went there often, but spoke nothing of it; your father wouldn't hear the name in his presence; your mother wept at the very thought of it. Perhaps an impartial third party, an observer like the Grand Maester, can give you the salient details – what the buildup was, what if anything went wrong, anything you don't know but should. DC 75. Reward: information about Summerhall, ??? (7,500 Dr)

Personal (Pick Two)
[ ] Sharper than the Sharpies: You may not officially run your merchant enterprise anymore, but the intrigues involved are what you truly excel at, and if you're honest with yourself, you sometimes miss the fun of it. Allows you to take on an additional Cartel task.
[ ] A Bent Copper: You remember well what happened to the last king when he didn't pay close enough mind to his financials. Seven Hells, his situation was so dire that you sent him a million gold dragons as a taunt once. While you're certainly no indulgent wastrel, you'd like to get better with coin. Stewardship/Learning, DC: 60. Reward: increase Stewardship, gain related traits, may improve some relationships (Free)
[ ] Return to Dragonstone: You haven't set foot upon the island in fourteen years, and the last time you were there, your mother died in your presence. Maybe it's been long enough, and you can lay some old ghosts to rest? And who knows what secrets and knowledge may lay hidden in your family's ancestral home? Reward: ??? (Free)
[ ] Beyond the Veil: You have little to no control over your visions. You would like to try and improve upon this. Maybe the Grand Maester knows something, maybe someone wrote on this once, anything – you need guidance. Willpower, DC 50. Reward: may unlock Seer traits, other options (Free)
[ ] The Bonds Between Us: You have a core group of people in your inner circle, but it's only a few. And a king certainly can't ignore the members of his court. (Specify a person, or perhaps two people, to spend time with). Reward: strengthen relationships, may improve stats or gain new traits. (Free)
[ ] A Dragon in Black: You do have one living relative you know of outside of King's Landing: your ancestrally and geographically distant uncle Aemon, a maester in the service of the Night's Watch. You're told that Rhaegar would exchange letters with the old man, before his death – maybe he'd like to write you? Reward: Contact with Maester Aemon Targaryen, ??? (Free)


Heroes (Pick one task each)

Daenerys Targaryen
[ ] Diplomacy of the Dame: There are few as good with their words and innate charm as Dany, and she can put that to good use. (Allows you to take on an additional Diplomacy project, using only her Diplomacy bonus) (Please specify project when voting).
[ ] Silvertongue: Ned wants her to shadow him closely, and likewise guide her hand as need be. If she is to one day take his place, she needs more than talent: she needs skills. Diplomacy, DC 65. Reward: Dany gains confidence in her skills, may gain traits and Diplomacy increases.
[ ] Shadows of the Past: For good or ill, the most powerful and consequential of Targaryen women have always had martial skills. To advance her in this arena, you'll have Dany train with Ser Bonifer. Martial, DC 55. Reward: increase Martial, gain combat-related traits. (Free)
[ ] Sisters in Scales: Dany has never been one for the traditional route, and neither have you. She's forged good relationships with the Sand Snakes, and they could probably teach her things that would never occur to Ser Bonifer. Martial/Intrigue, DC 40. Reward: increase Martial and Intrigue, may gain combat-related and intrigue-related traits. (Free) (assigns the Sand Snakes to Dany for the round)

Aegon Targaryen
[ ] A Mind that Burns: The Golden Prince is smart, and received much of the training for kingship that you never did. You would have him improve on those subjects, as they will not only benefit his work with the Goldcloaks, but when he becomes a lord somewhere as well. Learning, DC: 50. Reward: increase Stewardship and Diplomacy, gain related traits. (Free)
[ ] The Path of Ashes: The City Watch should be led by a skilled hand, and the lords of Westeros respect martial prowess above all. You'll have Aegon train with you and select others in your court, to improve his skills. Martial, DC 50. Reward: increase Martial, gain combat-related traits, may improve relationships. (Free)
[ ] Along the Nascent Echo: Summerhall sits long ruined, a scar on the Stormlands and a sobering reminder of your house's fragility and fallibility. Aegon has some curiosity about the place, given his father's connection to it, and he's dreamed of visiting it sometime. Reward: ??? (2,500 Dr) (will necessitate naming an Acting LC for the City Watch, and could have repercussions on Aegon's reputation departing so early)
[ ] The Shape of Dreams: Many Targaryens across history have been touched by some kind of influence beyond the mortal coil – some dream of the future or the past, some discover things in the present beyond their ken, some speak with the dead … Aegon wonders, in his few quiet moments, if he has inherited something of this from his father. Willpower, DC 60. Reward: increase Willpower, may gain related traits. (Free)

Garret of Saltpans
[ ] Port of Call: A trading company would be sort of silly without having operations of some kind in as many major port cities as possible, and the Tigaros Cartel is not silly. Garret will begin to expand from Lys and Braavos, working to get a foothold in various port cities. Intrigue/Diplomacy, DC & cost varies by port city (write-in 3 target cities, subject to QM approval)
[ ] Hoist the Colours: You know a profitable venture that you never got yourself into? Piracy. The Narrow Sea is almost crawling with ships, some more vulnerable than others, and the Summer Sea never lacks for opportunity either. And there's always the Arbor… Intrigue, DC 40. Reward: the makings of a pirate enterprise, varying amounts of coin and cargo, ??? (20,000 Dr)
[ ] Settling Accounts: Once upon a time, you had to flee your home in Braavos, thanks to the amorality of the servants Ser Willem Darry had hired. You are very much now in a position to reclaim what was lost (as can be, anyhow) and to have Garret exact some petty revenge. It would be unbecoming for a King of Westeros to stoop so low, but hey – that's what Tigaros is for. Intrigue, DC 35. Reward: reclaimed items lost from Ser Willem's home, sweet sweet vengeance, ??? (5,000 Dr)
[ ] Tempting Fate: You survived the Doom of Valyria once, with the help of Ser Jaime and Lord Gerion and no small amount of luck. So far, everyone else that's tried has failed where you succeeded. You'll task Garret with finding out why, and maybe collecting some treasures you recall still awaiting claimants in the Doom. It's a very foolhardy but potentially very profitable option. Intrigue/Martial, DC 90. Reward: information on failed expeditions, secrets and treasures lost in Valyria, ??? (100,000 Dr)
[ ] O Brothel, Where Art Thou?: A funny thing has happened since the Restoration – many of the brothels in King's Landing have been in trouble, their proprietor missing and assets (in every sense of the word) left vulnerable. It's a bit distasteful and lowbrow, but it is the oldest profession in the world, and someone needs to do it. Diplomacy/Stewardship, DC 45. Reward: the Tigaros Cartel steps in and gains some, erm…assets. (10,000 Dr)
[ ] Selling Swords: Besides trading and whoring, the most profitable work in the world is mercenary work. There are a lot of sellswords out there, and there's a lot of veterans who, for one reason or another, can't seem to go home. Garret will put them to work. Martial/Stewardship, DC 40. Reward: the Tigaros Cartel gains a sellsword arm, and you gain a private army loyal only to you (and your coin). (25,000 Dr)

The Kingsguard
[ ] A Duty to Swords: A Kingsguard is never skilled enough. (Martial, difficulty varies) Reward: Increase Martial and gain combat-related traits.
[ ] Loyal Knights: (Allows you to take on an additional Martial Project) (Please specify which one when voting)
[ ] Restoration Reformations: Ser Jaime has gotten himself Opinions as pertain to the Kingsguard, and you haven't gotten this far by not trusting his judgment. He would like your permission (and input, in some cases) to implement some changes in the Kingsguard. Diplomacy & Martial, difficulty varies. Reward: Begin instituting some reforms on the Kingsguard.
[ ] Brothers and Sisters: It has not escaped notice that an informal Queensguard has coalesced around your wife, Arianne. You will formalise this arrangement, and work with Ser Jaime to smooth over whatever vocal objections arise to armed women being legitimised by the Crown. Diplomacy, DC 75 (Jaime & Viserys). Reward: Queensguard established, some traditionalist feathers ruffled (unlocks future vote bloc to recruit members)

The Sand Snakes
When they are not minding your wife (their cousin) as an informal Queensguard, whom do they aid?
[ ] Task them to Dany (takes Sisters in Scales action)
[ ] Task them to Oberyn (+10 to Oberyn's rolls)
[ ] Task them to Arianne full-time (lowers DC of Brothers and Sisters by 15)

Arianne Martell
[-] The Queen is recovering from delivery of the twins, and will be available for actions in six months.

Ser Warrek
[-] Ser Warrek is adapting to his position and trying to retrain himself with a sword. He will be available for actions in six months.


AN: And here we go! Let's see what madness you lot decide to get up to. Plan voting, please. Once there's a winning plan, I'll ask folks with omake bonuses (currently: Vocalist has a +10, and Magoose has...good lord, +40?ish?) to assign their bonuses where they will.

 

[Stardust&Scotch]

For the seventh day in a row, Melisandre came up from the lower chambers of the Red Temple she occupied, and opened a shuttered window to look outside. For the seventh day in a row, the horizon had disappeared into a haze as red as her robes. Seven days now. The Andals may actually acknowledge this as significant now, though for the wrong reasons, she thought. Careful not to sigh aloud, she closed the shutters before her eyes could start to burn, and shifted her headscarf to also wrap around her lower face. The air in the belly of the temple was, mercifully, still clear enough that she and the other priests did not need to take the precautions that they were forced to topside.

Her scarf would remain where it was until she returned to her quarters, where she carefully removed it so as to not disturb any ash it might have collected on her journey. She quietly gave thanks to R'hllor for the new dawn, that the terrors of the night would recede, but a blasphemous thought whispered in her ear that the darkness of the day, the dimness of the light would not hold the terrors at bay as true dawn would.

Turning from the whispered doubt towards her hearthfire, Melisandre whispered one more prayer. That the smoke and ash choking Volantis would not obscure her vision, that the red of the sky would guide more to R'hllor's embrace, that her sight be guided true, and that her Lord would keep her safe. While no one spoke of it directly, a few had talked around one of the more concerning things to have struck all those who looked into the flames for guidance; since the lands to the East were put to the torch, ash clouded everyone's vision, no matter how little time they spent aboveground or out of doors. One priest, who had sought guidance from her personally, spoke of travelling east to see for himself the flames consuming the Grass Sea, and lean on the strength of the blaze to aid his understanding of R'hllor's messages. He had returned to the temple unable to see anything, save for the dimmest of glows whenever a fire was near, and swaddled in so many robes and blankets that it was only by the Lord's grace that he could walk at all. But he shivered still underneath such weight, worse when he was moved away from a fire. And he warned her to take care, lest one as valuable to the Lord as her be lost, too.

She wondered what she might have seen if she had journeyed to Vaes Dothrak with the crusader Alessander, and looked into the fires there. Then again, I may be delivered from wondering, she thought as she remembered seeing the glow of the grasslands burning bright enough that even from so far away they stole the stars from the night sky. The blaze seemed to come closer day by day. And the words of her brother in the Light gave her suspicion of what she would have seen. The blinded priest had spoken only briefly about what he'd seen, and only to her – ships as far as the eye could see, seeming to sail upon an endless sea of snow; eyes blue as lightning, and just as blinding to directly look upon; and a chill that had yet to depart from him, even days later.

Melisandre's eyes closed, one more time. Guide my eyes, Lord, she prayed. Show me the way. And she opened her eyes, gazing into the hearthfire. Visions moved in the flames before her, gold and crimson, spreading and consuming and flickering and growing again. She saw a lonely island, fires burning bright, waves eating ceaselessly at its stone. Roars, cries, screams no human voice could make. Shadows, cast by the fires she saw within, whispered in the dark, promising desires and doom to be delivered in equal measure. Then a woman falling, riding, falling again, eyes watching that looked like the sea, whirling in motion on the surface but cold and fathomless below. She saw a woman pour flames into a cup and watch a man drink and writhe in pain as she took all that was his. Caves, deep and dark and little embers floating in the depths before flickering out one by one, towers of black stone crumbling and the hell they held at bay laying in wait as the tallest tower clung to existence.

Where is the dark tower? What stone is this, what devilry tears it asunder? But her hope of insight was dashed as the tower fell away from her sight, the ruins of its castle becoming another ruin, deadly silent yet power screamed from within it and it tore her vision from the flames. Blood dripped from between her fingers as clenched fists drove her nails through almost to bone, sizzling and burning away as it touched the floor.

Again. She looked deep, letting the pain from her hand focus her mind rather than distract it. A child of stone screamed not in pain but in fear as flames closed in. Fire spread from her to a woman and then a man, burning brighter than any she'd ever seen, so bright it burned the land around it as dragons rose from the flames to watch from above. Ashes swirled like snow and then mingled with snow as the drakes of flame disappeared and seas froze below, so fast the waves stood as sculptures in ice, so deep she saw men walk upon the sea in twos and threes and tens and hundreds and hundreds and they were not men at all, they were cold and dead and still they walked and it was so cold—

Melisandre fell to the floor. Her hands shook not from tension but from chill. Looking at the fire but not into it, it had burned low and little and it blurred in her sight for a moment before returning again, and it blurred again, and she realized her breath was obscuring her view. Braving the cold to close her eyes for a moment, she reached within for the warmth that R'hllor blessed her with, and felt it come to her hands and legs and head once more as she opened her eyes again. Her breath stopped appearing in the room and the fire regained some of its former life. She added fuel to it, feeding it almost gluttonously as she pulled her robes closer around her. She had not felt cold in longer than she could remember, so long ago she had forgotten the truth of the feeling and had held only the idea of it in her mind rather than the memory.

Unbidden, her eyes found the flames once more, and began to look more out of habit than intent, and before she could pull her gaze away she saw ash and snow dance and mingle and become only snow as she felt the fingers of cold brush against her for the briefest of moments. Shaking herself, she went to her table to drink of the water there, and found ice within. Melisandre felt a chill that came from no source of cold, and she took the small cup in her hand and threw the bit of ice into the fire before she opened her door and left her rooms without a second thought.

It was quickly that she happened upon another, a young slave who looked on her with fear and with worship. She had little time for either. "Go to my quarters and gather my things from the tables within, and bring them to me in the chambers aboveground," she commanded.

He nodded, but held out a hand and spoke wiltingly. "This came for you, from the Lady Kinvara," he showed her a tightly-scrolled parchment. She took it from him with a nod, and he moved quickly to do as she commanded, while Melisandre began her ascent to the surface. She broke open the seal, and read as fast as she could before she reached the atrium that led to the rest of the city. Finished, she cast the scroll into a nearby fire, the words already committed to memory. Even with the red glow of the sky it was barely bright enough to see, closer to the end of twilight than the bright dawn of a new day. Beyond the temple she could see some people moving quickly, rushing from one door to another and inside with hardly a step of pause. Elsewhere, she heard someone fall sick, heard the wet sound of vomit striking stone and the shuffling steps onward. Hardly anyone was out, hardly any sound was made. Cities were not meant for such quiet, such lifelessness. Torches burned without end wherever the city could manage, but it wasn't enough to chase away all the dark or the haze, and it did nothing for the sensation of the air being thick, almost resisting physically any who would walk through it.

She secured her fresh headscarf around her face, and breathed carefully as she leaned into R'hllor's protective embrace. He had shielded her from worse than smoke and ash, and while her eyes and lungs itched, she did not need to rush her movements. The same could not be said of the young slave who brought her two bags from her chambers, who wiped at his eyes furiously while he bowed, then fled from her with a wheezing cough. He would find the grace of R'hllor in time.

If there is time enough left to him, Melisandre thought as she gathered herself and began to make her way to the port, where she would board the first ship leaving for Westeros. Kinvara's words had confirmed what her visions had led her to believe: the Prince that was Promised walked among them, and the Great Other now stood upon the earth once again. Lord protect us all, she prayed. The war is here.

 

[Stardust&Scotch]

Spoiler: Author's Note

For narrative purposes within this post, I rearranged the votes slightly (in the vote post, Rule of Law came before Frey'd Lines, as an example) which, for full disclosure, affected none of the rolls, but just allows things to flow a bit easier for the results post, in my opinion. If there are questions, or discrepancies, please let me know!

[X] Plan: Stabilize the Realm

-[X] Frey'd Lines: Many Houses across the Riverlands, Stormlands and the Reach are now in contention over who should inherit -- with a truly alarming number of men from House Frey in the wings. Lords Hoster, Mace and Stannis can only do so much, and they have asked for Royal assistance in settling these matters. DC 50. Reward: inheritances are settled, some lords may be displeased with results (2,500 Dr)

Roll: 15 + 19 + 17 = 51 (Bare Success)

There's no two ways about it; these successions are a disaster, and more than once you find yourself wishing you were (or knew) a necromancer so you could raise Walder Frey from the dead just to kill him again for making you endure the fruits of his labours, figurative and literal. You try your best to balance things, but the unfortunate reality is that, between two bloody civil wars hardly a generation apart and a lesser rebellion in-between, many of the landed houses of Westeros are on very shaky ground, and House Frey was (after decades of the Late Walder's politicking) uniquely positioned to benefit. Some of the noteworthy results of this are:

• House Blanetree's inheritor is twelve-year-old Zia Frey, whose minority is in the care of her mother Zhoe Blanetree.
• Walder Goodbrook, at seven, is well and truly ruled by his widowed mother, Kyra Frey.
• House Caron of Nightsong has seen a first for you – your first legitimising of a bastard. Ser Rolland Caron is now the Lord of Nightsong and received Lord Olyvar's blessing to deal with Mylenda Caron and her wayward Frey men-at-arms as he wills.
• Arwood Frey has inherited Hawick House near Saltpans, and the line continues now through him and his children with Ryella Royce.
• Many clingers-on hoped to sink their teeth into Rosby, given the old lord's fall from grace and lack of male heir, but Lord Olyvar Frey's elder brother Perwyn is Gyles Rosby's grandson and now, in addition to his brother's strongest supporter, is Lord of Rosby.
• House Beesbury's succession actually resolves itself in what is (to you) a delightful manner: the younger Lord Robert (son of Lady Jeyne) made a deal with the elder Lord Robert (son of Lady Beony) where Robert the Younger became Lord of Honeyholt, announced his engagement to his cousin Serra and named Robert the Elder as his castellan, taking in their other siblings to be housed with his own … and both of their mothers were banished from Beesbury lands. You don't think you did yourself any favours with Lord Mace when you laughed in his face after he tried to make the disinherited Beesbury women your problem, but it's really not your fault – the kids' solution was and remains fucking hilarious. You know he was hoping you'd call it a wash between the Frey claimants and declare Mace's distant relative Lyonel the heir (his mother being the last Beesbury sister, Alys) but you would have been hard-pressed to justify it even before the children worked out their neat little compromise.

Without other events, you suspect this could have put a damper on your relationship with Lord Hoster, Mace Tyrell is definitely no fan of yours, and while Stannis was going to grind his teeth anyway you sort of doubt your influence helped him much there.

Result: Nobody's really happy … except for Walder Frey's fucking ghost. But there's no new blood feuds and no blood shed. It could have been a lot worse. There are now half a dozen cadet Frey branches, one of which is a bannerman to you.

[Your Domain has been updated!]


-[X] The Rule of Law: You have two former Small Council members and a former Lord Paramount in chains, all credibly accused of horrific crimes. You will see that the trials are held in public, and that a clear message is sent to the Seven Kingdoms: no man is above the law. DC 75. Reward: trials are held publicly, highborn may be uneasy (15,000 Dr) (locks for 2 rounds) (mutually exclusive with "The Rule of Men")

Roll: 91(!) + 19 + 17 + 30 (Omake Bonuses) = 157 (INSANE CRITICAL SUCCESS!!!)

…well, that happened. (to be continued in "In Complex Times")


-[X] A Gold Standard: The City Watch is poorly equipped, poorly trained, and you're as likely to find an extortionist as you are a good man in the uniform. Aegon would like your permission (and the aid of the Master of War) to clean house, get proper men, proper equipment and proper training. DC 60. Reward: increase quality of the Gold Cloaks to Trained/Full Strength. (15,000 Dr) (locks for 2 rounds)

Roll: 44 + 25 + 21 = 90 (Great Success)

You find yourself left with the rather strong impression that Aegon's decided, if he's going to have the name 'Daemon' whispered behind his back and where people think no one can hear, that he's going to put the Rogue Prince to shame in the comparison. (to be continued in "Prince of the City")


-[X] Rebuilding the Fleet: The Royal Fleet took quite a beating during the Restoration. You should get started on building more ships, and hey, you have all the materials you could want for the task. DC 50. Reward: increase the fleet's numbers to Full Strength. (Free) (locks for 2 rounds)

Roll: 12 + 25 + 21 = 58 (Success)

Nothing much is of note to you, here: your Masters of Ships and War are two of the most competent men you could ask for, they have all the material they could ever dream of, and they have a royal mandate to back them up.

Result: the newly commissioned Royal Fleet is going smoothly so far (1 round remaining)


-[X] Renegotiate Debts: The Usurper left the realm in perilous financial states, and one way to amend this is to renegotiate the terms of the loan the Crown made from the Iron Bank. DC 65. Reward: possibly renegotiate interest rate and/or repayment schedule. (10,000 Dr)

Roll: 50 + 10 + 17 = 77 (Success)

Tycho Nestoris is as pleasant as ever in person, though it takes him a bit to warm up to Lord Strickland. In short order, however, the three of you get down to business, and by the end of the afternoon you have the makings of a new arrangement with the Iron Bank of Braavos. Over the next few weeks, you become less and less essential to the process, and when Nestoris departs for Braavos, he does so with an excellent working relationship established with Lord Strickland. It turns out, you discover, the rates were so usurious because the Bank wanted the Usurper's balls in a vise should he have triumphed against you, given his existing debts and proven struggles with finance. With you in the Throne, Nestoris could secure a more favourable payment schedule and interest rate, and after a bit of haggling you offered some collateral to help smooth things over with his superiors. All in all, you think things went fairly well, and this could help with other negotiations down the road.

Result: Debt to the Iron Bank reduced by half [-1,500,000 Dr surrendered from Personal Finances] payment schedule reduced to 100,000/year over the next 15 years, interest reduced to 4% (60,000/year). Options to negotiate with House Tyrell, House Lannister and the Faith unlocked.


-[X] Nests Within Nests: You can't tell much, given the state of recordkeeping towards the end and the nature of those involved, but you do at least know that Petyr Baelish had a bizarre web of influence and ownerships, the boundaries of which even you couldn't begin to guess at. You'll task Ser Harry with trying to disentangle this Meereenese knot. DC 90. Reward: Baelish's 'ledger' becomes comprehensible, a more complete picture of finances and assets gained. (7,500 Dr) (locks for two rounds)

Roll: 51 + 10 + 17 + 10 (Omake Bonus) = 88 (Slight Failure)

Harry isn't the smartest or most bookish man you've ever known, but you asked him to do a job and you've placed a lot of confidence in him before – he works his tail off doing his best to not let you down. With the Iron Bank and your other creditors, his best serves you well. But in this case, his best isn't enough. You can't even blame the man; you spent several afternoons yourself trying to make sense of the accounting he was looking over, and you honestly felt less adrift when you had leapt into the Smoking Sea. After three months of trying, he is finally forced to concede defeat, for the moment. He appreciates your reassurances, and tells you he means to bring in some more clever men that he trusts to try and help if you want him to try again. And he's got some ideas of how to approach it differently after his talks with Nestoris…

Result: DC decreases by 10, cost rises 2,500 Dr. Harry Strickland develops a previously unknown appreciation for standardised accounting practices, and a seething hatred for Petyr Baelish.


-[X] The Red Keep's Ways: The Red Keep is riddled with secret passages. Everyone knows this. Fewer know the location of even one. Oberyn, with the help of the Sand Snakes, can find them all. DC 60. Reward: gain complete knowledge of the Red Keep's secret passages. (Free)

Roll: 26 + 30 + 17 + 10 (Sand Snakes) = 83 (Success)

One day, Prince Oberyn tells you in confidence to avoid having conversations you wouldn't like overheard, especially by him. You trade japes about how that was already your standard practice, but its borne out the next day, and for weeks after that, as you'll be in the middle of something else altogether and come to hear shuffles, occasionally giggles, from within the walls. The four youngest of the Sand Snakes, along with their half-sister Sarella, are making a complete map of the secret passages, hidden entryways and listening posts that riddle the Red Keep. There is one minor incident where four goldcloaks are overheard talking about their … unsavoury practices … and they catch Elia listening in. Foolishly, they decided to try and silence her. Two of them end up killed by their own blades, a third is killed by Sarella after the impressively one-sided fight draws outsider attention, and after allowing the elder Snakes to interrogate him for information, the fourth is summarily executed by Prince Aegon the following morning.

No one crosses the Snakes again.

Reward: a detailed map of the Red Keep's secret passages, and personal knowledge of the few truly safe locations; a handful of goldcloaks quietly retire rather than continue similar practices; you come to learn that the unofficial Rule One for the barracks of the City Watch inside the Red Keep is "Do not fuck with the Sand Snakes".


-[X] Little Fingers, Large Shadows: The only remaining member of Robert's Small Council at large, former Master of Whispers Petyr Baelish has somehow vanished from the world. This cannot be. You'll find him somehow, someday. You'll start by tracing his past, his movements and his dealings. No one can just disappear, he has to have left some kind of trail. DC 80. Reward: begin gaining information about Baelish, his assets and his disappearance. (10,000 Dr)

Roll: 4 + 30 + 17 + 10 (Sand Snakes) + 10 (Omake Bonus) = 71 (Failure)

No one can just disappear. You said it yourself.

Apparently Petyr Baelish is "no one".

The best that could be discovered was, in Prince Oberyn's estimation, what Baelish wanted you to find – a trail that went cold in Gulltown, which would conveniently leave a person stewing outside the city walls and hoping that the plague didn't kill the remaining trail and/or Baelish. Obara Sand personally went to the man's ruined tower in the hopes of finding any clues, and returned with nothing but ash. Ellaria Sand reached out to Lord Hoster's children, in the hopes that they might offer insights, with little success; Edmure remembered little of Baelish given the difference in ages, Catelyn Stark hadn't seen or spoken to him in nearly twenty years, and Lysa Arryn said nothing at all in reply. Lady Catelyn suggested that he might have preyed on Lysa's fondness for him as a child, but considering the false trail that led to the Vale, both you and Prince Oberyn find it unlikely he would be so arrogant or stupid as to have gone there.

After all this, Oberyn states he is going to vent some of his frustrations in a more productive manner, and spends two weeks working with Ser Warrek's creepy caregiver, the result of which is a poison the Red Viper intends to personally give the Mockingbird. The details of it, when you pry them out of Oberyn, leave you both impressed at their creativity and more than slightly terrified of their effect. He burns the notes in your presence, and his partner in crime is sworn to secrecy on pain not of death, but of the selfsame poison. It's one oath you're confident he'll keep.

Result: DC increases by 15. Cost rises by 2,500 Dr. Prince Oberyn and Ellaria, Harry Strickland, and Obara Sand now constitute an informal "Death to Petyr Fucking Baelish" group (+5 to all anti-Baelish actions for the rest of the year). Oberyn has one phial of Schemer's Screams, an agent that (according to him) will cause severe physical pain, paralysis and eventual death after two to three weeks, but spends most of that time stripping away long-term memories and higher mind functions, in such a manner that the victim is aware of the effect, but unable to do anything about it.


-[X] The Higher Mysteries: Magic exists in this world. Your dragons are proof of it. Your dreams are proof of it. Seven Hells, whatever nightmarish things Euron Greyjoy got up to would also qualify. But it is an unknown to you. This is where your request to the Citadel regarding the new Grand Maester comes in. DC 55. Reward: learn about magic, ??? (5,000 Dr)

Roll: 24 + 17 + 30 = 71 (Success)

Jacaerys is a dutiful teacher, and you an eager learner. (to be continued in "Blood of the Dragon")


-[X] On Crowns They Hung the Dragonfire: Three dragons now live in King's Landing, and they are, for now, obedient and under control. Dany has great instincts, informed by her old book of Valyrian tales and myths, but you would really like additional information, and there must be more out there than just this book. DC 85. Reward: find out more about dragon rearing, training and maintaining (7,500 Dr)

Roll: 43 + 17 + 30 = 90 (Success)

There are scant books in the collections of the Citadel related to dragon rearing, it turns out. Jace has copies sent, for what they're worth, but it's his inclination (and you agree) that the most likely place to find dragonlore is on Dragonstone. (to be continued in "Blood of the Dragon")


-[X] Return to Dragonstone: You haven't set foot upon the island in fourteen years, and the last time you were there, your mother died in your presence. Maybe it's been long enough, and you can lay some old ghosts to rest? And who knows what secrets and knowledge may lay hidden in your family's ancestral home? Reward: ??? (Free)

Roll: 40 + ??? + ??? = ???

When your duties allow, you and the Grand Maester make for the island, along with two Kingsguard. What takes place there changes your life. (to be continued in "Blood of the Dragon")


-[X] A Dragon in Black: You do have one living relative you know of outside of King's Landing: your ancestrally and geographically distant uncle Aemon, a maester in the service of the Night's Watch. You're told that Rhaegar would exchange letters with the old man, before his death – maybe he'd like to write you? Reward: Contact with Maester Aemon Targaryen, ??? (Free)

Roll: 22 + (absent a nat1, did anyone really think he wouldn't want to talk to you?) = 22 (Success)

To King Viserys III Targaryen,

It is a privilege to have lived to write 'king' and 'Targaryen' together once more, and a joy beyond words to be able to write them with pride. Long have I hoped that you and your sister lived, my young nephew, far from the reach of Robert, and you grant me not only to know this hope was answered and more, but that you found a nephew of your own, safe and sound. And now, your letter confirms to me the things I have heard whispered and the curses I have heard uttered by some of our newest recruits, that our family grows once more -- with twins, no less! -- and of all things, your firstborn is my namesake. I could not have ever dreamed of so fine a way to celebrate my hundredth nameday, Your Grace, and for that I am forever grateful.

Your brother Rhaegar, Seven keep him, was kind enough to write to his ancient great-uncle on occasion, to sometime confide in him and to seek advice, what little I could offer. If you would have it, I would now offer you counsel as well – the men you have sent to us have been a boon (for the most part; Slynt is a creature so useless that even maggots would refuse his company) and the men settling the Gifts are likewise appreciated, but I fear many more will be necessary. The Lord Commander would not have me tell you this, but we can only man three castles fully at this time, numbering ourselves perhaps one-thousand, four-hundred men. And as the First Ranger tells me, Winter is Coming. Men and materials will soon become more necessary and in shorter supply than ever before, and I humbly beseech Your Grace to see fit to aid us however you can before winter comes.

I hope this raven returns to find you and your family well, and entreat you to write as often as you desire.

Humbly,
Aemon
Maester of Castle Black, the Night's Watch

You finish reading, and can barely keep the emotions from your face before you notice a small scroll has fallen free from the letter. Picking it up, you see that it bears the same tiny, precise writing of Aemon's hand, and you quickly read it:

My King – most often, I can be free in my writing, given my position and direct access to the ravens, but these eyes have long since failed me, and so reading has fallen to those who aid me. Take care that any words you send to me are words you care not if others see them. – Aemon

You take care to burn the latter note, and as you watch it burn you resolve that you will share the longer letter at your family dinner this evening.

Result: You have contact with your great-great-uncle Aemon. You also now have an unimpeachable source of information on the Wall … so long as you trust the Black Brothers who help Aemon read and write his letters.


-[X] Silvertongue: Ned wants her to shadow him closely, and likewise guide her hand as need be. If she is to one day take his place, she needs more than talent: she needs skills. Diplomacy, DC 65. Reward: Dany gains confidence in her skills, may gain traits and Diplomacy increases.

Roll: NAT100(!) + 26 = 126 (Major Critical Success!)

Well, one thing's for sure: Westeros will never be the same again. (to be continued in "In Complex Times")


-[X] The Path of Ashes: The City Watch should be led by a skilled hand, and the lords of Westeros respect martial prowess above all. You'll have Aegon train with you and select others in your court, to improve his skills. Martial, DC 50. Reward: increase Martial, gain combat-related traits, may improve relationships. (Free)

Roll: 74 + 18 = 92 (Great Success)

You'd think that you had learned by now to not be so easily surprised when it comes to Egg. (to be continued in "Prince of the City")


-[X] Settling Accounts: Once upon a time, you had to flee your home in Braavos, thanks to the amorality of the servants Ser Willem Darry had hired. You are very much now in a position to reclaim what was lost (as can be, anyhow) and to have Garret exact some petty revenge. It would be unbecoming for a King of Westeros to stoop so low, but hey – that's what Tigaros is for. Intrigue, DC 35. Reward: reclaimed items lost from Ser Willem's home, sweet sweet vengeance, ??? (5,000 Dr)

Roll: 36 + 16 = 52 (Great Success)

You look down at the letter you received from Garret, who went to Braavos to oversee this personally:

Your Grace,

There's a lot to say and only so much one raven can carry, so I'll be brief.

It took a little work, but your descriptions were good enough to make locating the silks and linens doable – the merchant who took possession of them from the servants was unable to resell them and kept them for himself. He was persuaded to part with them.

Likewise, the fine clothes were recovered. I didn't even have to threaten anyone for them.

Ser Willem's vestments were in the possession of one of the servants. Slightly worse for wear, but recognisably his (really, what did the fuckwit expect, wandering a city of canals like Braavos with a sable plowman?) I've taken the liberty of having his vestments and armor returned to House Darry with the next ship headed to Maidenpool -- an agent of ours will deliver it the rest of the way to Plowman's Keep.

Ser Willem's sword, now, that's led an interesting life. I tracked it to Pentos, then passing around a few pirate captains from Tyrosh, taken from the last one by a Lyseni merchant, and after he sold it I confess that I lost the trail. By happenstance, or divine will if you care for that stuff, the sword found me two days ago -- I was wandering the back allies, at night (yes, I was looking for trouble, and found it) and a Braavo came to my aid, not realising I was handling myself fine. The Braavo bore Ser Willem's sword, and has been making good use of it helping the wretched and wronged of the city. I felt you would choose to leave the sword in hands Ser Willem would approve of, and so I did. I left him with 50 gold for his trouble, so if I end up wrong and you do want it back, I can easily find him again and be met on good terms.

As to the wretches you sent me after: two have passed on: one of natural causes, the other murdered in a domestic dispute (not one I devised, I assure you). One appears to have genuinely repented his ways, and joined a sept. The remaining five have been taken (five gold pieces left in place of those that had families – I don't get the impression they'll be missed) and interrogated. I got screams, various fluids, and a name: the Spider. Varys hired them to keep tabs on all of you and to keep you in the city. They got greedy, and you got lucky they thought there was more value in robbing a dead knight's home than obeying a distant master.

Three of them begged for mercy. They're on a ship to Eastwatch, and a miserable rest of their days. Two were unrepentant. At first. I thought some poetic justice was in order, so I left one in the Velvet Hills and one on the rocks of Lorath Bay. Each was left with a book (The Seven-Pointed Star, for my own amusement) a cheap ring, a small pouch of salted meat, and nothing else, not even clothes. I don't expect they'll survive, and if they do they'll be in no position to do anything about it. Hope the notion of them having to try and survive with all you had amuses you as much as it does me.

I acquired the last thing that you asked for -- the current owner was confused, but happy to take the gold. I hope your sister likes it.

Garret

Smiling, you roll the scroll back up and tuck it into your sleeve, to be put back with your other Cartel items and notes later. Then you get back to directing the builders that you've hired for this little task. You've been in a generous mood since receiving the letter, and you know she's always missed the place. You'll see if she wants any of the silks and linens after she sees this first gift.

Result: +1,000 Dr from reclaimed materials, including two childrens' cloaks embroidered with the Targaryen dragon by your mother's hand (that you're saving for your children when they're old enough). House Darry is confused, but grateful to this unknown Tigaros Cartel. Your vengeance is sated at long last. And you're going to surprise Dany with the red door from Ser Willem's home for her chambers.


-[X] Loyal Knights: Bastards' Bane: While the War of the Restoration has officially ended, bandits and raiders still pillage areas of the Crownlands and Riverlands, the Band of Bastards being a particular thorn in the ass. With your blessing, Stannis would ride forth with a small but respectably sized force, and stamp this nonsense out. DC 55, predations upon the smallfolk end, some lords may be annoyed at the imposition. (7,500 Dr)

Roll: 81(!) + 30 = 111 (Critical Success!)

The reports you're hearing about the Band of Bastards are grievous; it seems that for every good deed young Lord Olyvar does in the name of House Frey, his exiled cousin Aegon Bloodborn conjures two depravities to visit upon the Riverlands. The smallfolk bleed, and Lord Stannis grinds his teeth in frustration that he isn't able to enact his retribution upon these raiders. As he is preoccupied with his other duties, though, it falls to the more traditional role of the Kingsguard to take up arms and put these dogs down. This is the argument that Ser Brynden makes to you, and you agree with the Blackfish's points. In the end, you agree to dispatch him and one other Kingsguard that he and the Lord Commander agree upon. You finish that particular day feeling good about your decision to act, but especially allowing your men discretion in how they execute your will.

The next day, you regret it.

Ser Jaime meets you in your chambers at the end of the day, and tells you he will be going with Ser Brynden. He spent most of the previous night convincing both the Blackfish and the Lord Commander that he's the best choice, and most of the day devising (what you are eventually forced to admit) is a rather clever idea: publicly, he will seem ill the following day and have the Grand Maester announce he is treating the Hand of the King for redspots, and ordered him quarantined to protect the newborn Prince and Princess. Meanwhile, he will shorn his hair and beard in a manner that takes advantage of his passing resemblance to Ser Asher Forrester, and Ser Brynden will be seen departing with Ser Asher, the youngest and least battle-tested of the Kingsguard. Such a deception will lure out the Bastards, eager to gain renown by bloodying a white cloak and thinking him to be easy prey, where he and Brynden (and their contingent) can wipe them out. He'll be back in a fortnight, within three weeks at the outside, he promises.

After you acknowledge the cleverness of the idea, you press for what the real reason is – he might have fooled his white cloaked brothers with this reasoning, but not you. It's a good justification for what he wants to do, but not a reason why he wants to do it. A little more poking and prodding gets him to eventually admit to not feeling himself, that he does not want his black mood to impact his duty to serve you, and he kind of suspects he really, just badly needs to kill something. You're not sure if it'll help, but you allow him to carry on this little charade anyway.

He turns out to be mistaken, on a few counts: he's back in eleven days, and personally mounts Bloodborn's head on a pike to be displayed. Personally slaying one in five of the company's total number did not take the weight off his soul, either. But he felt useful and he felt good in the moment, he tells you privately, and you suppose that's enough for now.

Result: the Band of Bastards is slaughtered to a man, the Riverlanders are grateful (in no small part because Ser Brynden expertly milked his relationships with several lords and landed knights to minimise any discomfort) and the success here definitely helped ease some tensions that would otherwise have developed with Lord Hoster. While his depression still haunts him, Jaime has improved his reputation (being a team player, proving himself willing to do the dirty work rather than order someone else to do it, etc.) and gained a squire in Hoster Frey, one of Lord Olyvar's younger relations.

[Ser Jaime's character sheet has been updated!]

 

[Magoose]

It seems that Egg is becoming something of a hard-boiled detective. (Feel free to use that pun in an action name sometime)

Click to shrink...

Your Wish is My Command!

The Hard-Boiled Egg:
(Egg POV)

The Sunrise draped the horizon in the mist of pink and red, even though the world kept on turning about, you did not sleep well this night and rose early to see it.

The city streets of kings landing were nothing new, the crafters, backers, and the men of the Watch were finishing the morning toils, as they could go to bed, or in the shop's case... open for business in the shit smelling, mud-caked and desperate capital of the Seven Kingdoms. A Place where, if you had heard right from your patrols with the men, a place where dreams go to die.

You sat in your room, quietly contemplating the drapes that you had strewn up in your office, to give some semblance of your royal rank and title. You hated it. You were supposed to be of the Watch, not above them. You were a man who needed them to respect you because you were you, not the Prince, not the Egg... most certainly not a dragon rider who could kill the entire city with a single whim and command.

Though it did help keep the more rebellious, corrupt, and even the murderous men who sought to destroy you in check. Those that you hadn't removed, arrested, or killed.

Early days.

But you lived by a few rules, rules that Lord Connington taught you a long time ago.

"Rule 1. You have to maintain appearances, always be aware that people will destroy you if you slip up for even a moment.

Rule 2. Everyone who is not your ally is an enemy, and will seek to-"

"Egg, your monologuing again." Dany's voice was enough to snap you out of your stupper... and you sighed.

"Sorry about that Dany." You said. "You know I just-"

"It's okay Egg. We have those moments all the time... though I can safely say Viserys doesn't do it out loud... usually he monologues in his mind, before contemplating his plots... and before he does something that makes everyone wonder how he planned it."

You sighed. "Dany stop comparing me to-"

Dany crossed her arms. "Egg." You hated it when she said that name... but you never had the will to tell her to stop. Only Jo- Lord Connington ever called you that. You allowed Viserys to call you that because he was your king. you accepted Arianne calling you such names because she had stories about your mother that you had never known...

But Dany never earned the right to call you that name.

"What!" you snapped.

Dany froze, calming and composing herself before she simply said. "I'll leave you be to work."

And she left you be... and you were alone again.

"Rule Three: Never let people get close to you." You whispered. "Because they will hurt you more then any enemy."


AN: I always believed Egg would have trust issues and just because he has a loving family, doesn't mean they haven't gone away yet.

And he struggles opening up to people he knows he can trust with his life.

 

[Magoose]

A Simple Thought:
(Viserys POV)

What was it you desire? Perhaps it was a question that most men quandaries once or twice in their lives, but not you.

You had never had the luxury of having a desire. Even when you were a child, thrust into a role that would ultimately define you, raising and protecting Dany… you never really knew what you wished.

You only had your duty.

Seeing the lost items that had been stolen when you were so young and desperate, to both escapes, survive, and thrive… in a world that wished you were dead.

It made you realize that you could have those desires. To want what you could never have before taking the throne.

But as you slept… as you dreamed, you found yourself facing yourself again.

A sentence you thought you would never utter in your mind again… once again.

The mirror was polished silver, a fine piece if you ever saw one… yet you wished you never saw it… for you stared back.

"Hm… back again, after forgetting me for so long." The mirror stated as you stood before. "Do you think you were too good for me? For… the bond we share?"

You frowned. You were not going to give the mirror anything. "Is it really that hard… last time we spoke, you wanted to kill Jaime."

"For all the crimes he committed… against you, Rhaegar, our father, Dany, Mother-"

"Do not speak of her!" You growled as you slammed your hand against the table. "She is not something you can use to manipulate me."

"Oh strike a nerve?" the mirror smiled. "You know what you want to do… Burn them all."

The mirror laughed. "For all your veneer, for all the balance that you have used to keep your dark impulses in check, you never could get rid of me… you want to know why?" He smiled more, and it sickened you.

You always knew. "Deep down, you know that you are just as mad as your father… all the fear of losing them, the paranoia of the unknown man who wishes to destroy you, even now, as he is lost and forgotten, even the way you love your wife, and your children… Did you really think that you don't see the patterns of how this will all end?"

"It won't end." You proclaimed.

"You don't get it… you feel as well as I." The mirror stated. "The Throne only allows the worthy to sit upon it, and guide Westeros to the future. You are not worthy, no one has been since Aegon the Conquerer himself. Everyone who's ever sat the throne descends into madness… it's a curse."

"It's a responsibility." You stated. "One I have to maintain."

"Truly Though? Without even a hint of desire?" The mirror asked.

"I have all I need." You growled, losing your mind in anger. But you took one breath… two… three.

"But not what you want…"

The mirror gave a smile. "Tell me Viserys… what is it you desire?"

You narrowed your purple eyes and let yourself quietly think. You then gave a smile. "To be rid of you."

"Tsk Tsk… Viserys, that isn't a desire of your heart… I'm asking you to truly dive deep into your heart… and tell me… what you desire?" The Mirror asked.

The answer only took a moment to be vocalized. "I want to see my mother again."

The Mirror smiled. "Very Well."

And the Dream ended…

The portrait was on the wall, as Arianne played with your hair.

"Good morning."

AN: Because I really want Viserys' to continue speaking to his mirror (read, insane) part of himself.

It would add so much more to his mental resilience.

 

[Stardust&Scotch]

The ceiling barely deserved the name, Daenerys thought as she walked around the weathered ruins of the Dragonpit.

While the ceiling had once been a mighty dome, it had fallen into disrepair and large parts of it had fallen inwards, making haphazard cover from the elements. As a consequence, there were birds' nests tucked in several places, standing puddles of water here and there, and chunks of stone small and large littering the pit itself. One spot had seen a heavy bit of stonework fall with enough force to break through the weakened floor and leave a gaping hole into the pens below.

Yet for all the whips and scorns of time the structure was largely intact, sound enough for her purposes. Workers were already labouring to ensure the hole in the floor was covered with wood thick enough that it would not break under the weight of the presiding lords. Benches left to the ravages of the weather were being replaced with proper heirs to their work. Halls were cleared to make entrance and exit easy, and for men of the City Watch to stand guard.

Beside her, Lord Eddard watched her with a piercing eye. "You are certain this is the best venue?"

She nodded. "By Aegon's estimate, ten thousand or more will want to be here to see this happen. That doesn't even include what lords and knights may wish to assemble, and with numbers like we anticipate, the only other choice would be the Sept. The Faith has not hosted a trial in more than two hundred years. Even if they wouldn't preside, I still don't want to upend that precedent."

"Merely all the others," Lord Stark noted.

"Not every precedent is virtuous," Dany said lightly.

Lord Stark took on a different point then. "Are you not concerned about the history here?"

She looked around to the workers as they laboured on. "That my house and the realm were brought low by vile conspirators and innocents suffered for it?"

"With respect, Your Grace, don't be facetious with me." His brow furrowed. "A mob rushed the pits, murdered dragons and butchered a member of the Royal Family. I don't know that mob rule, chaos and violence are what you wish to evoke in this."

Dany shook her head. "They are not. That is why Aegon is so involved." She looked to her nephew, talking animatedly with another two goldcloaks. Probably about who would stand where, or what to watch for. "The Watch will turn away anyone carrying weapons or things that could be made into a weapon at the doors. Goldcloaks throughout the arena will keep the people under control, and at a distance from those of us within the pit. And should they rise up and attempt to overwhelm us, Aegon has been practicing retreats into the catacombs with the men who will be here. They'll escort us to safety and use the rubble and wreckage, that they are now familiar with, to slow and deter and destroy a mob that is unfamiliar."

Stark blinked. "You've come prepared."

She let out a breath she hadn't realised she still held onto. "Growing up on the run and needing to be able to escape an unknown number of enemies at a moment's notice changes how you look at things," she remarked. "Viserys wasn't the only one who surrendered ignorant childhood to paranoid survival."

His head tipped forward, eyes closed. "Forgive me, Your Grace."

"There needs no such apology," Dany touched his arm. "The part you played was small and long ago and long since forgiven."

"I am thankful of that," Stark said, "but what I ask forgiveness for is for having questioned your preparation and forethought."

She shook her head. "If you do not question me, how can you be sure I'm learning the skills you wish to impart? You asked of me pertinent questions, so I answered them." They fell silent a moment as two goldcloaks rushed past. "If we mean to trade apologies, I should not have been so flippant about your concerns at first. I fear I'm spending too much time around the King and his Hand and acquiring their dryness of wit."

Lord Eddard only came so close to agree with her as to say, "I have observed the Red Keep becoming a desert of wit in recent weeks."

"Blame my brother," Dany said, happy to be less weighed down by their subject. "He likes smart and sarcastic people and likes to be surrounded by them. I imagine if he and Ser Jaime didn't have to be King and Hand, they'd sit in an almond gallery together and make quips and jokes all day as they watched their replacements."

"An impulse I pray he means to suppress during his role here," Prince Oberyn remarked as he joined their small party. "My girls have rechecked the passages Prince Aegon means to use," he said in a softer voice meant for only the three of them, "and they have determined alternate paths should the Watch be compromised and we need to get you three out. As we speak they are preparing quick disguises and hiding some small arms for such an eventuality."

Stark looked to the Red Viper. "You make no such plans for the lords that will sit in judgment?"

"With respect, Lord Stark," Oberyn said with none obvious to his tone, "I am not sworn to serve or protect them. Their safety if something should befall the Watch is their own concern."

Dany held up her hands. "If there is time, my lord, I would have you and the Snakes locate places to stash the lords in question. They will not need to escape, simply last out any event. If Lord Tyrell deigns to show up, feel free to stash him in a wine butte for all I care."

"I have not in my life seen a wine butte of sufficient size to put that man into it."

"I care little what your plan is, so long as one exists." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I never said he had to be comfortably stashed."

Oberyn's dark eyes glittered with mischief. "I can devise some methods of such concealment, with Your Grace's leave?"

Dany nodded to him. As Oberyn made to leave, Lord Eddard asked him, "Do you not require such an escape or concealment?"

"I can avoid being seen if I wish," Oberyn said cryptically, "as can those of my blood. Sometime I may endeavour to teach you and yours, if you like, my lord. It would be quite a sight to see a wolfpack hide as a nest of vipers might." And with a smile, he was gone.

After a moment, Ned hissed out a long sigh between his teeth. "Some day, he will stop finding it amusing to antagonise me."

"So long as you're an easy mark, I don't think he'll be able to help himself," Dany said.

He shook his head. "His need to taunt people he feels more clever than is going to be the death of him."

"However he meets his death is his own concern," she echoed the Master of Whispers' comments. "I think we should return to discussing how we wish to open … "



-------------



The day of the trials began with a low fog over Blackwater Bay, the day much cooler than had been anticipated. For this, Daenerys was grateful; the Dragonpit could have been more like a Pentoshi bathhouse's sauna than a trial chamber in the heat, and she shuddered slightly, to imagine what the heat and smell would be like with so many bodies inside.

And there were bodies indeed. The strictures of the City Watch had not turned many away, to her surprise, and she began to wonder if perhaps they had underestimated the interest the public would hold in being present for such an event. Benches which she had anticipated to be seating two or three people comfortably distanced instead sat five or six, and many more benches were filled than she had thought would be. Perhaps forty or fifty thousand people filled the arena.

The benches on the floor of the pit were likewise more crowded than they had expected -- while many lords were unhappy to have men-at-arms turned away and told to surrender weapons if they wished to enter, many more acquiesced and perhaps a thousand were seated in the grounds of the arena. Originally, Lord Stark had wanted them farther away, perhaps at the back of the arena or close to the exits should a riot ensue. Dany's calculated if somewhat callous point was that having a sea of lords up close meant that the common folk might think twice about rioting, for even if they were at a trial of mighty lords it was still commonly accepted that lords got treated differently than smallfolk and so might have arms on them … and that if a riot occurred anyway, the mass of highborn between the smallfolk and the figures of the trial meant they'd have more time to evacuate before a riot reached them.

Glancing to the bench of judges, Daenerys received a small, warm grin from her brother as the King gave little other reaction in the centre of the group. Four others sat with him, each representing a Warden of the Realm. They had considered having representatives for each of the Seven Kingdoms, or upping the number to nine in order to include the Crownlands and the Iron Islands, but decided that five would minimise strife within the group, and hopefully avoid troubles given who had recently made war against whom.

To Viserys' left sat the biggest surprise of the bunch: Lord Willas Tyrell had apparently defied his father and accepted the invitation on his family's behalf to sit in judgment. Ser Raynald Westerling (Lord Tyrion's trusted representative) had gracefully moved a seat over when asked, as both Viserys and Dany hoped Willas would be more amenable to working with them than his father was. To Viserys' right sat Lord Royce Coldwater, in the place of the Warden of the East, and on the end of the bench was Theon Greyjoy, uncharacteristically serious-faced as Lord Eddard's representative. The five of them fell silent as the High Septon entered the Dragonpit, and as silence fell across the assembly he began with a prayer, asking the Father Above to guide them to justice. He then administered an oath to the parties representing each side, though he stumbled a bit when swearing her to speak only truth in the eyes of the Seven. Then the High Septon departed, and while she remained standing Lord Stark sat at his table, giving her a nod as he ignored the surprised whispers from the arena and the scandalised glares from the two men appointed to the defence.

She would speak first, and take the reins for this event. She stepped forward, and the arena fell silent once more.

A moment's glance was all she spared to the gathering of prisoners before she began. Among the bannermen and the commanders they employed, she clearly found the eyes of Gyles Rosby, frail and withered, and of Paxter Redwyne, stooped and greying around his red hair and eyes burning with hate. She broke their gaze, and turned away.

Light came through the ruined dome, falling perfectly upon Daenerys, casting shadow over the accused, and not directly upon the bench of judges but behind them, leaving them illuminated but not the centre of attention. Viserys and Lord Eddard had been singularly impressed with her sense of staging when she explained it the day prior, and after seeing her plans and hearing what she meant to say, they agreed to dance to her tune. Daenerys' silver-white hair seemed to glow in the sun, her dress regal yet somewhat martial in its bearing, as befit a dragon. Her voice projected only lightly, but even those in the farthest-back benches of the sundered pit could hear her words as clear as if she stood directly in front of them.

"Esteemed lords, honoured knights, people of the Realm," Dany began facing the assembled crowd, before turning to the judges and the accused. "The duty of the first trial in the history of the Seven Kingdoms for crimes against the peace of the Realm carries with it grave responsibility. The acts we mean to punish and condemn were so calculated, so cruel, and so destructive, that Westeros cannot allow them to be quietly dealt with or to be dismissed, because it cannot endure their being repeated." She turned from the lords, then, and spoke to the people. These words would echo through history, and she wanted the people to hear it. "The common sense of mankind commands that the law shall not stop with the punishment of small crimes by smallfolk. The law must also reach men who hold great power, and make deliberate use of it to set in motion evils which touch every life in the Seven Kingdoms."

A hand gestured to the prisoners' gallery. "Before you sit a dozen bannermen and lords of the realm. Broken, defeated, subjugated and in chains. Their personal capacity for evil is now forever past. We might struggle to see in these captive men the power by which they once dominated this continent and terrorized most of it. As mere men, their fates might be of little consequence to these kingdoms.

"What makes this trial significant is that these men represent sinister instincts that will lurk in the world long after they are made an end. We will prove them to be living representatives of cultural hatreds, of terror and violence, and of the arrogance and cruelty of unchecked power. They are symbols of bloodlust and war-making which have set Westeros ablaze generation after generation, killing its children, destroying its homes, and stealing its life. The acts that they have committed, the ideas they represent, must be understood to be such a danger that any tenderness to them is a victory and an encouragement to the evils they have made upon the realm." Her voice had not risen, yet thunder was now in her words. "The Seven Kingdoms cannot compromise with the ills which would gain strength anew if we deal quietly or leniently with the men in whom those ills now endure."

"What these men once stood for we will patiently and undeniably describe. We will give proof undeniable of unbelievable events. The length and breadth of crimes omit nothing that could be imagined by a wrath of pride and cruelty and contempt for lives not their own. These men pursued an agenda unseen by any since the Age of the Dawn. They took from the peoples of Westeros all dignities and freedoms that we hold natural and unalienable from any human. The people were repaid with terror and with brutality and with agitation against those who were marked as 'guilty by blood'," she barely kept the growl from her tone. "Against their opponents, real and imagined, they directed and enacted a campaign of theft and torture and murder and extermination, driving from this continent and meaning to drive from this world all those their Mad King desired to see removed. Their efforts united the armies of Essos and refugees, brought forth the rightful king from exile, and brought upon this realm the third war in our lifetimes. This struggle left the Seven Kingdoms a peaceful yet decimated land where even now we cannot say for certain how many have died. These are the harvest of the evils that sit with these men in the prisoners' dock."

"In justice to the realm and the men associated in this prosecution, I must speak of certain difficulties that may leave their mark on this trial. Never in the history of laws or men has an effort been made to bring to justice an entire regime, reaching across years of criminality, covering a whole continent, and involving dozens of lords, hundreds of men and countless events." She looked back to the prisoners. "There is also such a clear difference of the fates of the accusers and of the accused, that might destroy our efforts if we should mis-step, even in the smallest of matters, from being fair and even-handed.

"The sad truth is that the nature of these crimes, the criminals and the victims is such that both prosecution and judgment will be made by victorious allies over defeated enemies. The field of the war and the crimes has left few men of neutrality. Either we the victors must judge the defeated or we must leave the defeated to judge themselves. And therefore, we must proceed. At the start, we must also rid ourselves of the idea that to put these men on trial is to visit onto them injustice that entitles them special consideration: these lords may be hard-pressed," Dany's mouth twisted wryly, "but they are not ill-used. Let us imagine what alternative they would have to being arrested and tried.

"Most of these men surrendered to or were taken by the forces of the Targaryen Restoration. Could they dream of making Targaryen prisons a shelter for our enemies against the justified wrath of our friends? Did we spend our lives to capture and unseat them only to save them from consequences? By the laws of the realm, any who were not to be tried by the Iron Throne need must be turned over to the Lords Paramount, and thence to lords of the realm, for trial at the scenes of their outrages. If these men should succeed for any reason in escaping the condemnation of this trial, they will be delivered to those upon whom their crimes were rendered. For these lords, however, we have set up these trials, and have taken onto ourselves the burden of making a complicated effort to give them fair and just hearings. That is the best-known protection to any man with a defense worthy of being heard.

"If these men are the first officers of a defeated government to be prosecuted in the name of the law, they are also the first to be given a chance to plead for their lives in the name of the law. In all honesty, the act of this trial, which gives them a hearing, is also the source of their only hope. It may be that these men of troubled souls, whose only wish is that the realm forget them, do not regard a trial as a favor." Fire and blood entered her eyes. "But they are given a chance to defend themselves -- a chance which these men, when in power, would not extend to their fellow lords or their victims. When we seek their punishment, we do not seek punishment for petty acts or accidental breaking of the laws of gods and men. We charge guilt on planned and intended conduct that involves moral as well as legal wrong. And we do not mean conduct that is a natural and human, even if illegal, cutting of corners, as many of us might well have made had we been in the positions of these men. It is not because they yielded to the normal frailties of human beings that we accuse them. It is their abnormal and inhuman conduct which brings them to this day.

"It is our purpose then, to open this trial, and to deal with their designs to make ends possible only by resort to Crimes against the Peace, War Crimes, and Crimes against Mankind. Our focus will not be on individual cruelties and perversions which might have happened independent of any central design. One of the dangers ever present is that this trial may be drawn out by details of particular wrongs and that we will become lost in a wilderness of single instances. Nor will we hone in on the activity of individual defendants except as it may contribute to exposure of and demonstration of commitment to the common design.

"The case as presented by the Master of Laws and the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms," she reached her summation, "will be concerned with the minds and the power backing all the crimes. These defendants were men of a stature and power which does not often soil its own hands with blood. They were men who knew how to use smallfolk as tools. We want to reach the planners and designers, the inciters and leaders without whose guidance the realm would not have faced such terrible and unforgivable acts against gods and men."

With her words, the Dragonpit Trials had begun in earnest. And when no riots began, no cries were made against her, no acts made to dismiss her, Daenerys Targaryen knew that her plan had worked. She was seen as a leader in her own right, a woman of power and influence, and a peer to the Master of Laws.

Lord Eddard might not need to remain five years to ease her being accepted as his replacement, after all.

-------------

Result: The Dragonpit Trials commence, the first three months being a focus on the crimes of the Usurper's reign and in particular upon the Dragons' Screams. Princess Daenerys gains considerable acclaim and respect from most lords of the realm, and makes such lasting impressions with her preparations of the Dragonpit and her captivating oratory that, while she is not officially in the line of succession, it is broadly understood that she has earned a place for herself there, and may have secured a place in the line for women after her. The smallfolk, for her focus on crimes against them by lords of the realm, and for use of language that they could understand without feeling talked down to, fucking love her. Willas Tyrell has a painfully massive crush.
[Daenerys has gained the trait Silvertongue!]

Spoiler: Author's Notes

So, yeah, y'all. Critical successes have consequences. You've probably cut the time Ned will want/need to stick around in half, you've established that there are such things as crimes against humanity ("humanity" is a comparatively modern term, so "mankind" was used here) that collective guilt is a thing, that genocide is a thing and an unforgivable crime, and Dany put it all together.

The title, and the different trial options, are references to a poem by R.W. Grant, the line being "The rule of law, in complex times, has proved itself deficient / We much prefer the rule of men! it's vastly more efficient".

Dany's speech is largely inspired by, and borrows heavily from, the opening argument delivered by Justice Robert Jackson before the Nuremberg Tribunal.