Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Beta'd by Priapus, Mike God of Lore, Beans
The Unbound
Chapter 38: Northern Arrival
– Queen Margaery Tyrell –
Orys had probably been right to think that he needed to go north in person. Westeros was a land that respected martial ability more than anything else, and the highborn lords and ladies would respect a King who led a victorious campaign in person more than one who delegated war to others. What he probably didn't realise was how much the smallfolk didn't want him to go to war.
Even she hadn't realised just how much they adored their King until Orys was already heading to the Eyrie. It made sense, in truth. They didn't care if he could fight when the reign of Orys the Blessed had already become the best they'd ever had. Some compared him to Aegon the Unlikely but Margaery didn't agree.
Aegon the Unlikely spent his entire reign trying to improve things for the smallfolk, but he did so at the cost of the highborn. He was a King that was seen with disdain from his lords, even his own children saw him as weak and disobeyed him, spitting on his plans and rebelling against the betrothals Aegon was trying to arrange to gain support for his pro-smallfolk initiatives and laws. Aegon spent his entire reign dealing with rebellions, disobedience, disrespect, killed himself and most of his family in a desperate ritual and then everything he did was undone within two generations by Aerys the Mad.
Orys was not Aegon. More than that, he didn't deserve to live in the shadow of such an ineffectual leader. For every smallfolk saying that Orys was the best king for them since Aegon the Unlikely, she had a dozen bards singing of his exploits and reminding the world that Aegon and his weakness had led to the rise of Aerys and all the suffering the Mad King brought upon them.
So yes. The smallfolk did not care if Orys came back a conquering hero, only that he came back at all. Joffrey's reputation ensured that they very much didn't want her goodbrother as King. The announcement of her pregnancy had settled many worries but they still wanted their Healer King back.
It was funny. She prided herself on being in the know, but while living by Orys' side, even she had missed just how larger-than-life he had become for those who didn't know him personally.
He was living proof that the Gods cared for Westeros and its people. Every kindness, every merciful decree, made the smallfolk pray all the harder. King's Landing had plenty of food thanks to the Reach being generous because of their new Queen, corruption was being stamped out, with the cruel and corrupt Gold Cloaks being removed, hygiene and safety was being improved. It was simply a great time to be one of the smallfolk in King's Landing and they all knew who was to thank, even if much of the work had been delegated.
Even now, her mother was doing her job as the High Almoner. It was a new position, but one that carried a lot of respect from the Faith and the highborn alike, being tasked with ensuring that the gold given to charity was spent in the most beneficial way for those in need. A new hospice was being built near the Street of Silk, and several soup kitchens had been created to feed the most needy. She had made an occasional appearance there herself but as her bump became more noticeable, she left the Red Keep less and less. She refused to put her children in even a hint of danger, and while most were thrilled at her pregnancy she was not blind to the fact that many would see it as a threat. Not even mentioning Joffrey.
Every girl who wanted to be Queen, every Lord hoping to make his daughter Queen, would celebrate if she miscarried. It would be a sign that she was weak, unfit to be Queen, and many wouldn't just sit around and wait for fate to give them such an opening.
While the Kingsguard had all gone north, because this was too serious to leave any of them behind, she was far from unprotected. Garlan took his job as the Commander of the City Watch very seriously, and Orys had given him command of the Red Keep's guard as well before heading for the North. Baratheon and Tyrell men kept the place locked up tight, with no openings for anyone to intrude. She was glad for it, because she had noticed Joffrey lingering around whenever he could, but she made sure he never got a chance to be alone with her.
Fortunately, for all his high opinion of himself, he lacked any true intellect to scheme with, and had too many eyes on him to get away with anything. Lady Cersei had recently 'assigned' a new Sworn Sword to him, a Lannister knight who reported his every move back to the Queen Mother. Joffrey had tried to slip away several times, but never gotten far. The worst so far was when he 'accidentally' wandered toward her bedchambers late at night, before being sent away. She did not believe he was so foolish as to not know the castle he grew up in, and she could only guess what he hoped to achieve if he got into her room while she was sleeping. He hated her, of that she was sure, but she also saw the lust in his eyes as he watched her. She did not intend to ever find out what he wanted to do if he got her alone.
No, she was more worried about potential rivals for her throne than Joffrey. Babies were far too vulnerable, and poisons that would only inconvenience her could end her children. Missandei, after her… time with the Queen Mother, had become her taster and better yet…
"You can take the rest of the night off, Grey," Margaery said, seeing the tanned man hesitate before he bowed.
"As you say, Mis- Your Grace," Grey Worm agreed. After killing the fat slaver, Kraznys, Grey Worm and the other Unsullied he'd brought as guards had brought their ship back into King's Landing and confessed to their 'crime'. Cersei, despite being the Regent, had left that situation to her, and Margaery both understood why and was grateful for the chance.
This was the direct result of Orys's declaration, as the former slaves were still in Westeros by the time that Orys' grace period expired. By his law, they were free men and slaying someone trying to force them back into bondage was by no means a crime, as any free man of Westeros would do the same to one trying to shackle them. She had been by his side when he had made that declaration, and by letting her handle it as Queen, it showed that she was just as supportive of Orys' grand ambitions. The pleasure slaves had been given a small amount of gold, enough to find employment and a life in Westeros. Some had already joined the upper-class brothels, enjoying the work but wanting to be in charge of their own clients rather than having a master sell them to whoever paid the best. Lord Tyrion had taken those ones, ensuring they were taken care of.
Some had found faith, as it was the Blessed King who had seen them free of their cruel master. Her mother had taken them in, putting them to work in assisting the charitable efforts.
Two had become castle servants, because it would look better for the Crown to take them in. It was also why she'd added the twenty Unsullied that had arrived to the Castle Guard. It was a career they understood, though there were obviously some hard adjustments to being free men. The idea of taking a day off was something that they had found truly baffling, and often spent their free time doing their duties anyway before she'd stepped in and had some of the Tyrell guards effectively force the borderline emotionless men to relax.
Garlan had them training the new guards, because the Unsullied were truly amazing warriors. They'd had a poor showing during the exhibition because they were facing Barristan and Loras, but against regular men they were near-unstoppable. Passing on that skill to the rest of the guards was simply smart.
Most Unsullied had chosen new names for themselves, but Grey Worm had a strange pride to him. For the man who had led the other Unsullied to claim their freedom, he insisted on keeping the degrading name he had been given. She simply got around it by calling him Grey.
Twenty was hardly a large loss for the Unsullied, but it was a start. More than that, it was a sign. The Fat Master had brought his slaves to Westeros, and lost both his life and his 'property'. It was a message to all slavers that even the most loyal Unsullied could crave freedom if given the chance. She doubted the Free Cities would ever risk letting their Unsullied land on Westeros, even if war began. The first Unsullied to step foot on Westeros, and they had killed their master and claimed their freedom.
Every 'Good Master' would have the same niggling thought in the back of their minds. If they brought their Unsullied onto Westerosi soil, would their armies remain theirs?
Arriving at the Council room, she went through the usual greetings before taking her seat. She didn't have much to add on the current events, but she liked to stay informed and she was a representative of Orys himself while he was away. She and Cersei flanked Orys' empty seat as the meeting began, covering various minor matters.
Tywin, Tyrion and Uncle Paxter spoke on the needed Harbour expansion, which Orys had authorised them to handle via raven. With the Ironborn ships added to the royal fleet, and much of the Redwyne fleet joining the royal fleet in the east now that the Ironborn issue had been trivialised, they simply needed more room. It was not an emergency, as many of the ships were also handling the transport of the Ironborn and Gold Cloak prisoners to the Wall, and then the transport of the armies from the Vale to White Harbour, as well as campaigning to put a stop to the piracy from the Three Sisters.
Lord Royce, the soon to be regent of the Eyrie until it was decided if Robin Arryn or Harrold Hardyng would become the next Lord, had sworn to bring the Islands under control as to avoid another Ironborn situation becoming necessary. Their allegiance to House Arryn had always been seen as questionable at best. He'd also requested some men to bring the mountain clans under control, as they were predictably becoming a threat with the chaos. He wasn't going to be in command forever, but clearly Lord Royce intended to bring the Vale into order in his time as Lord Protector of the Vale.
He was remaining in the Vale rather than going to the North, as while he had offered his sword and the swords of his men, it would be rather embarrassing to take the Eyrie only to have it fall to chaos the moment they left. The Vale needed a firm hand to bring it under control and lead it out of the darkness, and Lord Royce was such a man.
The harbour plans trailed off quickly enough, because everyone wanted the update that mattered the most.
"Tyrion?" Cersei asked, getting a nod from him.
"Progress is moving, slowly, in removing the discovered Wildfire Jars. The Maesters and the Alchemists' Guild are working together, despite their squabbling, and our searches have found several other caches in the sewers and the tunnels beneath the Red Keep and the Grand Sept. It seems our worst fears were right, Aerys truly meant to destroy the city rather than let it be taken," Tyrion confirmed.
"They can squabble as much as they like after clearing the jars," Cersei hissed, but nobody blamed her. Learning you'd been living above a vast collection of highly volatile explosives for decades would do that to a woman. "Father? What has Jaime said."
"Jaime, to my shame, is a fool," Tywin said plainly, causing a moment of shock. "He did know of the plot, but was under the impression that the jars would be safe if left untouched. That they would lose potency over time. He was rather shocked to learn that they only became more volatile and potent with time. He also claimed he wished to keep one part of his oath as Kingsguard, to keep the King's secrets, even if he'd ended Aerys' life."
"I'll kill him," Cersei said plainly, rubbing her forehead. "If a rat had knocked one of those jars over, there wouldn't be a King's Landing left. Stubborn, prideful- my apologies."
"Believe me, My Lady, we understand," Varys agreed, swabbing his bald head to remove some sweat. For a man who prided himself on knowing everything, to realise how badly he'd missed his former King's last plot, and the potential consequences of his failure, must sting badly. She actually trusted Varys, but only because she was certain that he'd finally chosen a side. He had been hedging his bets, but Orys kept proving himself the rightful King and Varys had thrown himself into serving Orys for it.
"The tunnels beneath the Red Keep are a blatant security violation," Tywin added, possibly to divert attention away from his idiot heir. "Many of them go for miles, connecting to things like the sewers, and one even heads out of the city entirely. Maegor the Cruel's paranoia went far, and the only saving grace is that nobody knew they existed. Now, too many workers have seen them for them to remain secret. They will need to be filled in and blocked once they have been properly searched."
"Indeed. We have only found one that leads to Maegor's Holdfast, but it leads to an entirely undefended exit in the lower city. Likely an escape route for Maegor himself, but he was too paranoid to want multiple ways people could spy on him or infiltrate his castle. Any assassin could have slipped into the royal apartments without anyone being the wiser," Varys agreed softly. She had no doubt he already knew they existed and had likely used them himself, but now that they were becoming public knowledge, they were just a blatant threat.
Some more logistical issues were discussed, mostly 'where do we put the extremely explosive jars of green death', but for now they were being kept under careful guard outside of the city while the Alchemists worked out how to remove the threat entirely, or at least store it safely.
"The Maidenvault has been prepared for our soon to be guests. The King has sent Lysa Arryn, Myranda Royce and Robert Arryn south via ship, under watch from several Vale knights. Lady Royce surrendered herself into custody due to fearing the whispers in her mind, and Robert seems sane but traumatised. Lysa is to be kept under heavy watch and scrutiny, until the King can return to handle her personally," Cersei reported as they moved on. The tales of the madness in the Eyrie had been a cause for concern, though Orys had assured them that the taint was being cleansed. Most had no idea what he meant but such was his reputation that he could simply say such things and be believed.
The final part for the day was the progress Tyrion had made on the reformation of the sex industry. Tyrion was a very busy man, but he seemed to thrive with plenty of ways to show off his intellect even as Tywin and Cersei both challenged him repeatedly. They were biased, but they just gave him chances to prove his intelligence and impress the other council members.
She already knew most of this, as Moonshadow remained by her side. Tyrion had accepted the offer of assistance and expertise from Moonshadow and the Black Pearl, using the Braavosi courtesans as a model to rework the Westeros brothels into something more tasteful… and profitable.
Hygiene was up, violence toward workers was down, and everyone involved was making more money as a result. It had also led to the exposure of three human trafficking rings that Garlan had since shut down. As Tyrion became more trusted, girls would come to him with rumours, tales and requests. Not all who'd found themselves in Littlefinger's brothels started working there of their own volition, and not all of Littlefinger's men had gotten cleaned up when the man had been taken care of.
Garlan the Gallant was making quite the legend for himself. She knew he'd discussed staying in King's Landing for as long as Orys wanted him in his new position with his wife. She knew Orys was in no rush to remove him from his position as King's Landing needed someone to be the silk glove around Stannis' iron fist. Garlan was charming and handsome, soft-spoken and reasonable where Stannis was blunt and unforgiving. He let Stannis remain unyielding and fearsome by handling the matters that needed a soft touch, and he remained gallant because Stannis would handle matters needing steel.
Some had even turned themselves in to Garlan out of fear of Stannis' purge of crime and corruption, not realising that Stannis and Garlan decided all judgements together. They were two sides to the same coin, working toward the same goal, but it benefited them both to seem to have distance between them. Those who had issues with Garlan would go to Stannis, and those who disliked Stannis would turn to Garlan.
Together, they had brought incredible stability to King's Landing, and honour to both House Tyrell and House Baratheon. For the smallfolk, it only furthered the belief that a Tyrell Queen and a Baratheon King was the best for the Kingdom.
It was a belief she intended to ensure lived on for a hundred generations.
And yet, she was dissatisfied as she rested her hand on the bump on her belly. It was still early but with twins, it was far more noticeable. She was not lonely, per se, with her handmaidens, Arianne (and wasn't it a surprise to put her on the list) and her family, but… she wanted her husband back.
The only comfort she had was their bond, feeling the same longing to be home in Orys even as he moved further north.
– King Orys Baratheon –
Lord Manderly went above and beyond his duties, and I've already informed him that he's to be the Master of Trade, sending word back to King's Landing that the position has been offered and accepted.
After Winterfell was taken, and the Bolton men began to move south from the Dreadfort, Manderly was fast to offer shelter to the highborn of the North that resided in the south-east corner of the region. The Boltons found many castles empty, as the banners gathered at White Harbour awaiting the return of their lord. It meant that Lord Stark had quite the welcome with many bannermen relieved to see their Lord returned, at the front of a large force ready to take war to the usurpers.
The Boltons do not have many men. They are one of the strongest Houses, true, but they are facing the entire unified North thanks to Manderly, Karstark and Mormont all acting fast to gather the more vulnerable lords into safer locations like Karhold, Bear Island and White Harbour. It has let the Boltons move freely, but at the same time it means the force we have gathered is as strong as it could be.
It isn't all good, however. Lord Bolton was not entirely foolish about how he did this, and has supplemented his forces with his dark magic. Molag Bal, Prince of Domination, has granted his subjects the power to create thralls and while he didn't get his original goal, the Lords of the North, he has increased his numbers with enthralled footsoldiers. While we were in the Eyrie, it seems his conquest of the Northern Mountain Clans ended in semi-success, adding many of their numbers to his own, and his bastard son, Ramsay, took his forces across the sea and took the battle to Skagos Island. The Skagosi have always been a strange people, only vaguely loyal to the North and ruling themselves, but they are known for their savagery, and Ramsay seems to have either enthralled them or simply gained their loyalty with promise of plunder, as the Skagosi have joined his siege of Karhold.
They never tried White Harbour, simply because it is where the majority of the manpower in the North is stationed, behind tall walls, heavily armed and supplied. Some of the other Northern lords called him a coward for remaining behind his tall walls as the Boltons raid and pillage, but he has not been idle. White Harbour is full to bursting with the smallfolk from the surrounding villages, and he has been stockpiling weapons and supplies for the campaign. We've arrived to a safe and heavily supplied stronghold from which to deploy, and with far more information than we would have if we'd arrived blind.
While Hornwood fell to the Bolton Bastard, he did not walk away from that fight unharmed. Lord Halys Hornwood defended his home to the last, as his wife and son fled to White Harbour at his insistence, as his wife is the cousin of Wyman Manderly. They say an arrow crafted from a weirwood branch pierced Ramsay's eye during his reckless siege, and that despite his powers, it has remained unhealed to this day.
They also say that Bolton men are burning every Weirwood they come across. I doubt these two things are unconnected. Karhold has made spears and arrows of Weirwood, which explains why Ramsay has failed to take it. It is built on the top of a pair of rocky hills, and any siege is bound to be costly for defenders. If Ramsay was badly wounded during the siege of Hornwood, he likely isn't brave enough to join the assault on Karhold himself, so whatever martial powers he was granted are practically worthless.
So, he was wounded by the defenders of Hornwood, and suddenly decided he needed Skagosi savages to fill his numbers and man his frontline. If the Boltons are using their 'blessings' as proof that they deserve to be the King of the North, having Ramsay nearly die would have set them back considerably. It also explains why they aren't spreading their 'gift' so freely.
I doubt Lord Bolton even permitted his bastard to grant Molag Bal's curse onto Myranda. For their plan to work, they need to seem unkillable and if they spread the gift too freely, and we cut down their vampire spawn, it proves that they very much aren't. According to Manderly's information, Ramsay went from leading the front line to not being seen fighting after his attack on Hornwood.
Meanwhile, Lord Bolton himself seems to have secluded himself inside Winterfell itself. I think they learnt that they are more vulnerable than they believed, and it has shaken their confidence in this war. Lord Hornwood dealt in death the most dangerous sort of blow, a psychological one.
Better yet, we sidestepped their plans. Scouts have seen Bolton men on the Kingsroad, around Moat Cailin. They hoped to catch us with our breeches down, marching north through increasingly thick snow and longer nights. Instead, we took a leisurely cruise from the Vale to White Harbour, bypassing their blockade and ambush entirely. Now, the Bolton forces are split three ways.
Lord Roose Bolton has the most forces, gathered around Winterfell and attempting to take Bear Island. Molag must be cracking the whip for his slaves to remove Hircine's influence, but that is no easy feat. Ramsay has the second largest force, supplemented by Skagosi warriors, as he attacks Karhold from the Dreadfort… but a large force of Bolton men are currently sitting on the road waiting for us.
It would be rude of us to keep them waiting.
– Lord Eddard Stark –
Roose Bolton was a traitorous snake, but he was no fool.
As such, Ned highly suspected that this attempted ambush was the work of the Bolton Bastard that Robb had told him about. The one who'd killed Jon. It was clumsy, screaming of arrogance and a poor understanding of warfare. Ned could understand the belief that they would march north from the Vale, passing through Moat Cailin, but the Moat had not been a defensive structure for many years. It served as a natural chokepoint, but the walls and towers had long since collapsed.
More so, this plan ignored the Crannogmen of the Neck entirely. Eddard would have sought their aid in bypassing the moat had they marched north, and they were nigh-impossible to conquer with their affinity for the swamps of the Neck.
He had great respect for Lord Howland Reed, but the Lord of the Neck was not an honourable man in battle. He was sly, cunning and patient. All traits you didn't want in an enemy commander that also had the natural advantage in the battle terrain.
By placing his men, with no real commander to speak of, at the Moat in ambush, Ramsey had opened their flank to the crannogmen and their trickery. Arrows dipped in poison, spears and tridents covered in feces and poisonous frog mucus, only for anyone who pursued them back into the swamps to be caught in nets and drowned. The Bolton men sent to the Moat had not had it easy, even before the force they'd expected to march up, exhausted and surprised, had shown up at the wrong side of the Moat.
He suspected the Bolton men were more resigned than surprised when the crown's forces hit them from behind, bypassing the chokehold entirely. His wolfblood boiled as he led the charge, arrows glancing off his new armour. He thought the wolven themed armour was… extravagant and flashy in a way he found uncomfortable, but at the same time, it certainly wasn't ineffective.
"For the Red King!" one of the men shouted, rallying his men as the battle began in earnest. Ned killed him first. Ice lashed out with a demand for blood, slicing through his leather armour like it was soft silk. Guts spilled, and Ned was already moving on before he'd even finished falling.
He was not blind to his increase in strength, the power of Hircine flowing through his veins. He was a follower of the Old Gods, and the King had claimed that the Old Gods had awakened in response to the invaders. Hircine had blessed him, despite Ned's suspicion of the Hunter God, but he was not so paranoid as to refuse the power to save his home.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Robb lunged forward and pinned an armoured knight down, thick claws tearing through steel as Robb bit down on his neck and tore it out, spitting the blood out as the large, red humanoid wolf prowled the battlefield, rending flesh and bone. Dacey was not far behind as she lifted a screaming Bolton man above her head and tore him in two with her massive paws.
When they'd listened to Roose boast of their soon-to-be rule over the North, they likely hadn't expected to meet such an end. He knew their type enough to know that they thought they'd raid and pillage as they liked and nobody would put up a fight.
Now their heads were being bitten off by a giant bear.
Fate had a way of punishing such cruel ambition.
— Bonus Scene — Daenerys Targaryen
Endure.
That was her mantra as the Dothraki khalasar made its way east, to Vaes Dothrak. It had been a long journey, and a highly unpleasant one, surrounded by these… savages. How Viserys ever thought they would win him a crown, she did not know, but her life amongst the Dothraki had shown her all she needed to know about them.
Their journey to their holy land had been one of extreme violence on everyone unfortunate enough to be in their path. Villages were left abandoned as the inhabitants saw the khalasar coming and abandoned their homes, knowing they were safer in the wilds than anywhere near Drogo and his riders. They were right to, for those that stayed to either negotiate or fight met far worse fates.
And each time she watched them massacre a village just to stroke Drogo's growing ego, she repeated her mantra. Patience. Her time would come. Mirri had been a blessing, ensuring that Drogo's… enthusiastic attempts to breed her had ended in failure, her skills as a midwife turned against their original intent to ensure the horselord's seed never took hold. It was a blessing that her powers had made him protective of her, preventing her from being shared with his Bloodriders despite their desires.
But now, after months of enduring, the time had come. Vaes Dothrak was more overcrowded than ever, as a dozen khalasars had gathered at Drogo's call. He intended to announce himself as the Stallion Who Mounts the World, using her powers and royal blood as proof that he was the Khal of Khals.
This meant that the Khals who had gathered were amongst the strongest, the most influential, the most renowned.
It meant when they all died, it would hurt the Dothraki all the more.
Boethiah's wisdom calmed her beating heart as the Prince of Plots whispered in her ear as she was presented on the stage, in thin straps of silk that would not be coverage enough for a Lyseni pleasure slave, let alone a princess. Another shame she had to endure as Dothraki jeered and hollered at her. Drogo intended to mount her, here at the heart of their most sacred place, and impregnate her with all watching.
He had grown fearful of her powers, and Goldbrand was nowhere to be seen as he didn't trust her to be armed with it and had insisted that she disarm before entering the 'sacred city'. The so-called city didn't even have walls, being mostly wooden huts and 'palaces' protected by hedges rather than stone walls. A fitting capital for such a simple people.
As Drogo continued his boasting, he stumbled for a moment as his admittedly impressive hearing picked up the first signs of trouble.
She was glad, in truth, that Vaes Dothrak was such an underdeveloped place. It would have been far harder to pull this off if the city wasn't made primarily of very flammable materials. The smoke and the screams began, and Drogo turned to grab her. He wouldn't risk his precious prize being harmed, after all, but in Vaes Dothrak, even 'the Khal of Khals' had to remove his blades.
So, when he spotted Goldbrand once more in her hands, despite his attempt to remove it, all he could do was raise his hands in confusion before she drove it into his stomach, smiling as the golden flame engulfed him.
She would endure no more.
As he fell, his body lit the stage alight but the golden flames felt comforting to her. They did not for the 'Great Khals' who were trapped in the building that was rapidly turning into a fiery tomb.
– Mirri Maz Duur –
If her people knew how she was using the magic she had been given to protect and heal, they would be disgusted. But they didn't, because the Dothraki had slaughtered, raped and murdered them all, and as such Mirri felt no guilt at all as she began the ritual, as devised by Lady Daenerys.
Creating an inferno big enough to kill the Khals would have been easy, even without magic, but that was not her goal. No, today was a day of sacrifice as the souls of the Dothraki Khals, the spilt blood upon their holy ground, powered the spell and the fire grew, moving unnaturally as it sought out every Dothraki male in Vaes Dothrak, encircling the city to ensure that none escaped.
Today, her village, and a thousand like it, was avenged.