Robert Baratheon

283 AC – Kings Landing

All of this damned wedding planning was beginning to do his head in. Whether it be what was served at the table, what each would wear, who could be invited on such short notice, where to have the damned thing. If he could have his way, there would be no celebration because it wasn't one. He was supposed to wed Lyanna, yet that thing took her from him.

And now she was dead, being transported back to the North via ship where her bones would be laid to rest in the crypts below Winterfell. A sad place for someone like her to end. She deserved to be on the top of the largest hill with roses and dandelions and daisies surrounding her grave with the blazing sun directly above shining down on where she would rest forever. But Ned was persistent, stating that she had asked him to take her back so she could be buried with their father and brother.

"Which shade of red do you prefer, my betrothed?"

My betrothed. The words tasted like the saltiest fish one could get. Imagining the gruff northern accent speaking those words before speaking.

"Piss on you and what shade of red you wear woman."

A huffing noise left her before he heard steady footfalls as she left the room to get an answer from elsewhere. Robert reached over then for his wine skin, taking a large gulp and hoping the Dornish Red would help him get through these next few days. Until the bedding ceremony, he could manage until then. Afterwards he could go back to ignoring the Lannister woman and her damned father who had been strutting around the place like he were the Titan of Braavos himself.

"Your Grace- "

"Oh fuck sake, what is it now, Grand Maester?"

He turned around to see he had a letter in his hands. Cursing aloud he reached over to take it and turning it over to see the seal on it. The second he did, anger bloomed so deep within him it were like he were going to explode. Dark red in colour it was, with that fucking three-headed dragon imprinted on it clear as a summers day.

"Gather the council at once!"

The Maester ran off then, with vigour like a man twenty years his junior. Waiting until the jangling of his chains were long out of earshot and making his way to the small council hall. Once inside, he strutted over to the table and a second later his knuckles were aching as he had punched it. But it did little to quell his rage, if anything, it only deepened.

"Even in death the fucking rapist haunts my day! Curse you Rhaegar. Curse you and your mad father and your weakling of a mother and your cunt of a brother!"

How many times he had punched the table he did not know. Only stopping when the skin broke and there was a clear blood stain on the wood.

"You! Bring a jug of wine out!"

The servant squeaked but did as she was bid. Staring as her tits bounced as she ran and imagining for a moment what it would be like to feel those in his hands. Granted, they were nowhere near as impressive as Bessie's were. Robert doubted he would ever meet someone with sweeter tits than she did. People began to enter now, rage blooming within him when he spotted Lord Tywin and his whelp of a daughter he was to marry in a few days. She was a lovely thing to look at, there was no denying that, but she wasn't Lyanna. No one could replace Lyanna. Once everyone was seated, he spoke.

"Grand Maester Pycelle received a letter. Lord Varys if you will do the honours."

He slid it across the table angrily towards the eunuch, scrunching his nose up at the strong stench of lavender that came from him. Gods, why couldn't he use a scent that was more pleasant to people's noses? But no, he had to smell like a bloody flower. Cracking the seal open and taking his time to smooth out the creases of the folded parchment.

"Lord Varys, we do not have time for this. Who is the letter from?"

Never did he think he would be glad for the Old Lion speaking, but he was currently. Not wanting to spend any longer here than needed. He had whores awaiting him in his chambers begging for his cock.

"Dowager Queen Rhaella sends her regards."

Rage boiled again at that.

"Stannis was sent to deal with the bitch- "

Lord Varys placed something on the table then that must've been enclosed within. Sparing it a glance before his eyes widened. Reaching over and seeing the stag of House Baratheon cut off of a banner most likely, but this wasn't the only thing there. Feeling like he were a volcano that was about to erupt.

"How did the bitch get Renly's brooch! And how is she still alive?! She should be dead! Her and her son! I will not sit that throne until all the Dragonspawn are- "

"We will deal with the Dowager Queen once we know what is in the letter, your Grace."

A gaze so harsh was sent Tywin Lannister's way at this. It wasn't a secret he hated Rhaella for dismissing Joanna over the vile rumours that spread about her and Aerys. Like anyone would willingly bed King Scab. Even the most desperate whore would ensure there was a large pole between the two of them. Turning to Varys once more who had gone as pale as fresh milk at what was in the letter.

"To the Usurper Robert Baratheon, you may forget this but I do not. We are blood, and if you paid any attention to your lessons you would know breaking blood is a sin. You butchered my son in cold blood- "

"I did no such thing! - "

"Your Grace, please calm down until Lord Varys has finished reading the letter."

For a moment he thought of jumping over the table and wrapping his hands around Tywin Lannister's pretty little neck and watching as life slowly drained from him. But he did see sense in what he spoke, taking a long gulp of the wine the servants had brought out for the table.

"You butchered my son in cold blood over a false claim. For if you learned how to read you would know Lyanna sent you two ravens explaining how she had been rescued by Rhaegar after my mad brother sent men out to kill her. Try and spin it as you wish, but considering I got those ravens as did Aerys as did Elia, they did arrive. If you truly did not receive these, then ask your traitor foster father to hand them over to you. The snakes weren't as sneaky as they assumed themselves to be. Allying House Lannister, Tully, Stark, and Arryn? Even a blind man could see the folly."

How dare that bitch. How dare she insult Jon like that?! Looking to who he had named his Hand who for a second had gone a little green but he paid no mind to such a thing.

"When you took down Rhaegar, you became a Kinslayer. There is no denying that fact cousin mine. I weep for Queen Betha Blackwood, for if she were alive and found out her great-grandson murdered her other great-grandson, she would weep. Weep more than that statue they call Alyssa's tears in the Eyrie. But have it known, if you do not get off the throne that rightfully belongs to mine own House peacefully, fire and blood will come for you. The fleet you sent with Stannis has sunk to the bottom of Shipbreaker's Bay and your younger brother is in my hands. If you refuse, Storm's End, Casterly Rock, and the Eyrie will face the wrath of the dragon."

He stood up at that, fist pounding on the wood once more and reopening the scabs which had healed over on his knuckles.

"I want that whore and her whelp dead!"

"Your Grace- "

"Piss on you Lord Varys, Lord Tywin arrange for an army- "

"Your Grace- "

"One more word- "

"Your brother is dead! Your other brother a captive! The remainder of the royal fleet at the bottom of the sea. How in seven hells do you propose we get to Dragonstone with no ships?!"

Robert was about to launch across the table then before the words sank in.

"And there's something else enclosed."

"What else? An eyeball?"

Lord Varys shot Lord Jon a look at that remark before placing down a single object. Bright purple it was, glinting in the light like an amethyst. Yet it wasn't a jewel of any kind. Confusion whirring in his mind as he slid it over to examine it in more detail before turning to the eunuch in surprise.

"It can't be, they're all dead- "

"We can all see what that is. That is a dragon scale."

Silence overcame them all as the implication became clear, faces becoming ashen as realisation dawned on them that the bitch had a dragon at her behest. An actual dragon, and judging by the size of the scale, a large one as it engulfed his hand.

Eddard Stark

283 AC – The Kingsroad

When he had come to the south as a little boy, he had been enamoured with the thought of it all. The balls, the feasts, the gatherings. Meeting people he never thought he would meet until his brother became Lord of Winterfell. The first time he witnessed them was incredible, the second time good but had lost the magic of the first time, and by the third time he knew he detested southern ways with a passion. Eddard would never deny that he enjoyed being at the Eyrie, for he had, but everything that came with it? There would be no hesitation to answer.

Women who were nothing but ornaments for their husbands to birth babes left, right, and centre. Knight's with egos so large they were like prancing peacocks arguing over who had the prettiest feathers. Men who got insulted at the tiniest thing which back home wouldn't even be seen as a joke they were that tame because they believed themselves to be better than everyone else because of a title. It sickened him, massively so. Mayhaps that was why he had clicked with Robert as well as he had, because he had no patience for that either.

Yet now, there was nothing but disgust when he thought of Robert. Remembering the glee on his face when Lord Tywin presented his brutal gift at the bottom of the throne with all the ease of someone walking down a corridor. Hearing the horrified gasps as everyone surrounding realised what- or whom- were in the cloth. Every time he closed his eyes he could still see it, still smell it. Little Aegon's head crushed in like someone had taken a brick to it, young Rhaenys covered with so many wounds she was unrecognisable but she could be no one else, and Elia...

It made him want to vomit on the spot. For no one deserved a fate as such. In the North, if someone had to die they would get it over and done with quickly. That had not always been the case, his own home Kingdom had a bloodier history than the other Kingdom's combined most like, but that had been before and not now. Was she already dead before whoever had done the deed had split her in two from groin to collarbone? Or was she alive? If the latter, had she died screaming and trying to fight off her assailant or had she accepted her fate with ease? Questions, too many questions. And Robert was happy about what had happened.

"My Lord, the little one is crying."

"Bring him to me, Lord Howland."

There was no need to lie between the two of them, for the Crannogman had entered the tower not long after Lyanna had passed to see him cradling a babe in his arms with tears covering his cheeks. The babe being passed to him now as he tucked the tiny head into the crook of his elbow to stare at him. The only thing he had left of Lyanna, something many would say was a gift of the gods. But if it was, then the gift was not appreciated.

"You have to protect him, promise me."

Promise me. Promise me. Promise me.

Jaehaerys she had called him, named him after Rhaegar's grandfather who had ruled for a measly three years after he was crowned. There was still so much unknown of what had occurred, but one thing was for certain, his sister had wed the dragon Prince. For otherwise the babe he had in his arms would not bare the name Targaryen. Whilst not unheard of for a Targaryen to take more than one wife, one had not done so since Maegor the Cruel. Questions he would never get an answer to. Rocking the babe in his arms and whispering soft words to him as he slowly calmed down and soon dark violet eyes were staring up at him. If it weren't for the eyes, he could easily pass as being a Northerner, but that colour was only seen in a small handful of people. Gods, why could they not be bright violet? If so, he could play into the story of him and Ashara Dayne, but Catelyn was no fool. He'd only spent a single day with her after they had married, but in that short time he got a decent idea of what she was like. She'd see through it with ease, so there would be no lying there. He wondered what his own boy looked like. From letters, he knew he had taken after his mother in colouring, but did he look like him? Perhaps like Brandon or Benjen or their father? A shadow overcoming them which he assumed to be a cloud before Lord Howland spoke.

"By the gods- "

He trailed off after this as Eddard snapped his head up only for his mouth to drop open wide in awe. Bright purple and green it was, cutting through the air like it were only a bird. Circling above before slowly coming to the ground. Free hand immediately reaching for his sword before he noticed someone on the dragons back, and it was a face he knew well. Dowager Queen Rhaella slid off the back of the beast so swiftly one would think she were born to do this, walking over his way and seeing she had no weapon on her person.

"Ñāqes henujān." (Dawn, leave.)

The words were as foreign to him as the ways of the south when he had first gone to the Eyrie. The dragon letting out a roar and taking off into the sky until it was out of sight.

"Your Grace."

Rhaella walked closer to him now, seeing she had a soft smile on her face as she stared at the bundle in his arms.

"May I meet my grandson, Lord Eddard?"

He was stunned. How did she know? But deny her request he could not, for the babe was the last thing she had of her eldest son. Reaching her hands out as he carefully passed the babe to him and whispering words in a language that could only be High Valyrian.

"How?"

"Did I know? Your sister sent ravens out, Lord Eddard. I suspect Lord Jon Arryn had them destroyed or purposely kept them- "

"Jon would do no such thing- "

"Then how come I know, as did Elia?"

Anger swelled within him at the insult to his foster father, but he swallowed it down. The Dowager Queen now softly singing to her grandson and judging by the wide smile Jaehaerys wore, was enjoying it.

"What did she name him?"

"After your father, your Grace."

Violet eyes met his own which he noticed were beginning to fill with tears, clearly touched by the name his little sister had given her boy.

"You may not believe me, but I came prepared. In my satchel on my side I brought the letters your sister sent to me to keep me updated. I am sure you will recognise her hand."

He wanted to ignore it, pretend everything had occurred as it was meant to. His old friend was now the King and they all had to accept that. A likely thing. The Dornish would never accept such a thing, they would be crying for blood the moment news reached them of what had befallen their beloved Princess. Therefore, Eddard reached for the buckle on the satchel to open it and seeing a stack of letters there. Looking to Howland who asked Rhaella if he could take Jaehaerys so they could speak alone. It was obvious she didn't want to let him go but agreed this was something that needed to be discussed in private. Was it true? Had Jon hidden the truth from him and Robert? They both sat down on the grass facing one another as he eyed the writing on the letters. There was no denying it, it was indeed Lyanna's hand.

He read them fervently, drinking in the words like it were the first drop of water to grace his tongue in weeks. A story so different to how he had been led and anger so strong erupting from deep within. Now it was in writing, it became obvious. They were always planning on overthrowing the Targaryen's. How could he have been so blind? Baratheon to Stark, Tully to Lannister and then to Arryn when Jaime had been inducted into the Kingsguard, Tully to Stark. Why else would four Kingdom's join like such? Of how King Aerys had sent men to imprison Lyanna only for Rhaegar to catch wind of it and ride harder to get to her before his fathers men to spare her life. Of how he had planned to have her returned to them but she had refused as she knew the second she was she would be forced to marry Robert so Rhaegar had agreed with Elia to have her taken to a safe place whilst preparing for a way to overthrow his father. But the rebels had moved too fast, and soon it was war with no way to stop it. His sister taking solace in the dragon Prince and one thing led to another and she fell pregnant with Jaehaerys. To protect her honour, Rhaegar had wed her in the ways of the Old Gods so his marriage to Elia would not be seen as void by such a thing.

"I would invite you to Dragonstone, my Lord. But I am aware you are eager to go home to your wife and your newborn son, that is something I will not stop. I will handle the ending of the war myself. When it is done, I shall come to Winterfell so we can plan on what to do regarding Jaehaerys. For you cannot deny the truth, for my grandson and your nephew by rights is the King."

Rhaella Targaryen

283 – Dragonstone

Viserys was besotted with Daenerys, even a blind man could see such a thing. Rarely refusing to let her out of his sight and when she wasn't he was always nearby to be there if she needed it. It was a sight she had hoped for, one she had seen before when Rhaegar had met his other siblings for the first time. Or the ones that were actually born at least. She knew her son wished to be betrothed to his sister like their House had done for thousands of years, but she had other ideas. The best way to get allies to overthrow the rebel who sat on the throne that rightfully belonged to Jaehaerys was through marriage. And there was one person she had in mind for her son. Waiting at the docks for the ship to arrive. She was not waiting for long. For soon a ship was on the horizon with a sail painted with the sigil of House Martell. A smile adorning her face as Dawn came down from the cliffs to nuzzle her shoulder lightly.

"Riñe daor sīr." (Not now, girl.)

Dawn huffed before taking off into the sky again and letting her wings trace the water surrounding Dragonstone. Walking back to the castle and ensuring everything was prepared for their visitors. Ser Willem came to her around an hour later to tell her the ship had docked as she made her way down the bridge to greet Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn, and Princess Arianne. She was a lovely thing, the same age as Viserys according to Elia. With long black hair and eyes so dark they looked like tiny onyx's.

"Welcome, please help yourselves to bread and salt. We can discuss up at the castle on what to do."

A nasty smirk came onto Oberyn's face at what was insinuated, one she was fighting to keep down herself as they made their way up and were seated in her personal solar. Asking a servant to take Arianne to her children- with luck she would get along with Viserys.

"I am sure you have been made aware of what occurred in the capital?"

"The Stag sits on the throne that should be our nephews, but our nephew was met with a crushed head courtesy of the Old Lion."

Rhaella nodded before speaking.

"Let us show them that a Stag and a Lion will easily run from a Dragon."

Oberyn's smile got wider at her words, leaning in intently as they planned. Doran only adding in bits and pieces but mostly remaining out of it. When she confirmed Stannis was dead and she had Renly captive in this very castle, a loud laugh had left the two of them because it meant the Stag was going to try and raise an army to come here. But there would be no way for the army to get there any time soon. Their only hope was the Redwyne's, but Redwyne ships were not a match for Velaryon ships which the newly titled Lord Monford was working on arranging a blockade of the Blackwater as they spoke.

"I will lead our remaining armies up the Prince's Pass to attack from the west of the city, your Grace- "

"You will do no such thing, Prince Oberyn. I want to hit them where it stings most. Plus, it has always been amusing to pull on a Lion's tail, wouldn't you agree?"

It went quiet at this before he laughed, Doran snickering quietly from beside his brother.

"I always thought you were weak, your Grace- "

"One has to play a part when they have a title. The same way you use your gout to play at being weak yourself, my Prince."

Only then did Doran smile at her, gaining respect he had not had before.

"I will head for the Eyrie and make Lysa Arryn bow to my House. It is not hers or Catelyn's fault they ended up wed to rebel Lord's. You Prince Oberyn, will wait in Stoney Sept for me to meet you and together we will take down Casterly Rock and all the Lannister's within."

"Even the children?"

"Even the children. Hit the Old Lion where it hurts most, being made into a song like he done with the Reyne's and Tarbeck's. A fitting end, wouldn't you agree?"

No confirmation needed to come, for the glee radiating off of Oberyn was all that was needed. Giddy at the thought of getting revenge for his sister.

"And the capital, your Grace?"

"With Casterly Rock and the Eyrie under us, the Falcon and the Lion will leave to take back their homes. This leaving my cunt of a cousin with little support. And then we will strike."

And so it was agreed in blood. An ancient way of making a pact in Valyria of Old where they would all slit their palms and clasp the others hands tightly so their blood could mix as one. Leaving the room to search for the children and a smile coming onto her face as she spotted Viserys and Arianne playing together with Telora cradling her daughter in her arms on a bench. Her son running to her when he saw her as she bent down to scoop him up.

"Ari muña maegi- " (Ari is a witch mother- )

"Arianne maegi daor, Viserys. Arianne Dārilaros." (Arianne is not a witch, Viserys. Arianne is a Princess.)

"Daenerys Dārilaros." (Daenerys is Princess.)

"Issa, Daenerys Dārilaros. Arianne umbagon." (Yes, Daenerys is a Princess. Arianne will stay.)

This made him happy as he began jumping in her arms and chattering on how she was his friend. If things went well, not just friends but husband and wife. Doran had wished for his daughter to be Queen but that would not happen thanks to Jaehaerys. Oberyn had been annoyed when she brought her grandson up to them as was expected, but with careful prodding it was agreed that when Jaehaerys came of age, and if Arianne and Viserys had a daughter, they would wed. Thus, there would be Dornish blood on the throne which appeased the two Prince's of Dorne. This was amplified when she offered Prince Oberyn a seat on the small council- title to be confirmed and to act as a regent for her grandson. If Viserys and Arianne were not blessed with a daughter and only sons, they could tackle that hurdle when the time came.

Lysa Tully-Arryn

283 AC – The Eyrie

Dark wings, dark words. Something her father used to always say to her when she was little. Words she still did not understand but what she did understand was she hated Hoster Tully. And her sister, but she hated her father even more.

Yet do her duty she had done. Wed a man thrice her age who had skin that felt like old leather. Remembering having to swallow her repulsion down when they had consummated their marriage at feeling him moving atop her. Praying that a seed would take root and it would be a son so that way there was no need for him to lay with her for a while. Yet it hadn't, her womb as empty as it had been before her first babe. A babe she had been desperate to keep for it was with a man she loved fiercely. A man who told her time and time again he loved her as well but as usual, Cat got in the way of them. She always did, sticking her nose where her business was not permitted.

Because of her wretched sister she had almost lost Petyr. Her father told her that he had asked for Catelyn's hand but that couldn't be true, for Petyr loved her and her alone. Which meant it had to be her sister who asked to give her hand to him. He wouldn't lie to her; they had grown up together and were joined at the hip. This leading to the brute her sister was to marry challenging him to combat and cutting him down despite her screams of protest to stop. Lysa had cried then, well and truly cried. Like she had when her mother had passed and had gone to Petyr in his bed where he was recovering.

Spending hours at his side, speaking to him, reading to him, caressing his hair in her fingers. Going to her father a few days later that she wished to give her own hand to him and that she loved him deeply unlike Cat. But Hoster had refused, cursed her out and made her cry and scream at how her life wasn't fair. How Cat always got everything she wanted but when she asked for the same she never got it. He spoke again how Petyr had asked him for Cat's hand but it was not true, he loved her and her alone. Instead saying he was in talks with Tywin Lannister to have her married to Jaime Lannister.

And so she had made a plan. She was not going to wed the cub; she was going to wed Petyr. If she lost her maidenhead to him, by honour she would have to wed him. For once, she would get what she had always wanted and they could flee from her father into the sunset. It took a week for Petyr to recover enough that he could talk back to her and when she had said she wanted to give her all to him, he had happily obliged. The care he had with her as he touched her in ways that were sinful but felt oh so wonderful. The way his fingers curled deep inside and the rush that overcame her before being silenced as he placed her hips directly over his cock and guided himself in as he was still on his back. Maester Kym ordering the less movement from him, the quicker he would heal. Never had Lysa felt so alive as she did then, feeling how he filled her so perfectly as they were made for one another. And then the rush overcame her once more and she collapsed on his chest heaving at what they had just done.

"My dear Cat."

Those words cut deeper than a knife. Despite bleeding still from her maidenhead being broken and aching from what had occurred, she had ran. Tears streaming down her face until she was in her own room and grabbing the nearest thing she could and throwing it against the wall.

"Why must she ruin everything?!"

Her plot didn't even work. The moment she had found out she was carrying Petyr's babe in her belly; she had gone to her father after rehearsing her words over and over again. Wholly believing he would grant her happiness with the man she loved and the man who loved her too. Instead, he'd had Petyr thrown from Riverrun still injured and had him banished from their home. And to add insult to injury, her father had asked her sister and brother to dine as a family and he had snuck just enough moon tea into her water that it would not look or taste any different but enough to have her lose the babe. The pain had lasted for days, but when it ended never had she felt so empty.

"My Lady, a raven from your Lord husband."

Lord husband, something that made her curl her lips in anger as she came out of her memories to focus on the now. Jon was a kind man, she would grant him that boon, but she did not care for him. Taking the letter that was stretched her way as she broke the dark blue seal with a diving falcon to read it. This was the second he had sent in the last sennight. The first stating she would have to remain in the Eyrie as despite Robert now being named King, there were still rebels to deal with. Not that she minded, the less time around him the happier she would be.

There wasn't much information in this one either, simply giving her the most basic information. Stating again she would remain at the Eyrie and he would send her a raven when Robert's reign was fully secured. Picking up a torch and setting the corner of it alight and watching as the parchment disappeared to dust until nothing remained. Words in the wind. And then a shadow covered the courtyard. A shadow so large she could barely make out the many pillars and statues as she looked up at the monstrous cloud that could've caused this. But that was no cloud.

They all ran at this, watching as the dragon circled above them and steadily making its way down towards the Eyrie. Deciding whether it would be safe to land in the courtyard due to its size. As it got closer, it became clear that the decision was made. Lurking at one of the entrances into the building itself and trying to stall her breathing as much as she could as the ground shook when it landed. It was beautiful, in a horrifying way. The colouring of the beast glittering like jewels as the sun hit it. Someone jumping off the back of the beast and only when she spotted bright silver hair did she know who had come here. Gulping loudly, Lysa exited to greet the Dowager Queen openly.

"There is no need for greetings for I will not be remaining for long. Your husband is a traitor, Robert is a traitor, Tywin is a traitor, your father is a traitor. They think they are secure in their position but they are far from such a thing. You are not your father, and so I ask one thing of you, my Lady. Bend the knee and swear to House Targaryen."

Her father was absolutely a traitor, as was Tywin, but the others? Her confusion must've been obvious as Rhaella walked closer to her for Ser Vardis to step in to protect her. Lysa raising her hand towards the Knight who backed away.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean, your Grace- "

"Aye, you do not. Hence why I am not having Dawn chow down on you like a snack. I will keep it simple. Your husband knew Lyanna Stark was not kidnapped, and he knew my son was not harming her in any way, yet he chose not to divulge this information and let a war escalate from such a thing- "

"You dare insult our noble Lord?!"

"Quiet, Lord Yohn, allow the Dowager Queen to speak her piece."

Yohn Royce stewed in his anger at what Rhaella was claiming. It couldn't be true, could it? Jon was not a man she was happy to be with but he was kind to her. A man so kind would surely not do what was ordered? No one had time to think before Rhaella took a knife from somewhere and threw it at one of the guards. The guard falling to his knees as they ran to him. Lord Yohn moving forward to tackle the Dowager Queen but was stopped by the dragon roaring.

"Question him, I have people loyal to me in the Red Keep still and they told me a name of someone who was aware."

And then she had turned to the guard. Lysa had wanted to call it lies, curse the woman out in front of everyone but with a dragon so close to her that would be stupidity at its finest.

"Bring bread and salt for the Dowager Queen, have her set up in the royal quarters. And take the guard to be questioned harshly."

They had done just this, despite a lot of grumbles at it all. Sending people to question the guard in question with them all watching what was happening. It made her stomach twist uneasily but she had to remain completely calm. She was Lady of the Vale, a title she had to uphold in her mannerisms. She lost count on the amount of hits it took for the guard to start talking, but when he did, oh did he talk. Revealing things that had everyone coiling in anger both at him and at her husband for what had occurred. Jon had played them all like a fiddle, a fact she liked nought. Having the guard placed in a cell that was not a sky cell because they would need him as proof. Then she had gone to where Rhaella was.

"What do you want, your Grace."

"Justice."

For a few moments, she did not do anything. And then, Lysa smiled.

Oberyn Martell

283 AC – Stoney Sept

It had taken near on a moon to gather their remaining army to march north to where the Dowager Queen had told them she would meet them on her dragon. Arriving at the town three days prior and setting up camp outside the walls. And then they waited. And waited. By the fourth day, he was well and truly bored, never being someone who liked to remain idle for longer than a couple of days. The only reason he had not already left and gone on another quest was because he knew there was a fight looming. A glorious fight, one he was desperate to get his hands bloody with. For Elia, for Aegon, for Rhaenys. They would be avenged and the Lion would be lower than they ever had. Just imagining the look on Tywin's face when he found out was sugar on his tongue. On the fifth day, the purple and green dragon appeared overhead and landing nearby them all, the Dowager Queen walking over covered in armour and very much looking like a warrior Queen.

And then they had marched. First to the Golden Tooth, and then west towards Casterly Rock. Their numbers were much smaller than they had been when they had first marched in the rebellion, but now they had an even bigger boon on their side. How Rhaella had found an egg itself was a mystery, never mind how she had successfully hatched it and it didn't come out stunted like many others did. An awe inspiring sight it was, and it only adding to his excitement as they got closer and closer. Rhaella had been adamant the only thing not to be attacked was Lannisport, instructing him to leave some men to prevent anyone escaping the Rock into the town and she would take out the Lannister fleet from above so they couldn't escape by water. And then, they start their assault on the Keep.

It took them a sennight to reach their destination from the Golden Tooth, eyeing the lion ramparts adorning the city and the massive castle atop the highest hill which if tales were true went deep into the rock as well. The Dowager Queen sending regards for the fight as she took off south towards the harbour of Lannisport before commanding Dawn to unleash her flames. It was a glorious sight, even from afar like they were. But they had a fight to win, and so he had ordered a thousand men to barricade all entrances they knew of between the city and the castle, the remaining seven thousand beginning their march.

A smile made its way onto his face as they got closer to the gates surrounding Casterly Rock. Guards armed and pointing their crossbows at them. Raising his hands as if in defeat before the show began. Purple and green dragon coming up towards the gate and unleashing its flames along the tops of the walls and incinerating all the guards there was and blasting the door open whilst she was at it allowing them entry.

Enter they did, with no haste. People running as only enough men had been left to hold and defend the castle, all Lannister armies in the south protecting the Stag that sat on Jaehaerys' throne. It was a dance, a beautiful dance. Whether that be dodging a blow or taking a life, either way it was. The order was clear.

Kill the Lannister's.

Although the Dowager Queen was quite vocal on how Ser Jaime was not to be harmed, stating he protected her more than the other Kingsguard did and she planned to reward him for such a thing. Whatever the reward was he cared nought for. For he had Lion's to kill and the viper would not stop until all the Lion's were dead. They deserved this. For so long they had pranced around believing themselves higher than everyone else because their castle was built atop a vast goldmine and with a name that spanned for centuries. Now they would face a harsh reality.

He twirled his spear and thrusted a few times as anyone got close to him, guards coming out in armour that had hastily been put on and advancing on them. But they were no match for the Dornish, they had repelled three dragons beforehand, and what was a lion to a dragon? The closest comparison he could think of was a mouse to a bear. He was covered in blood, the taste bitter in his mouth but the taste of vengeance was sweeter than this which allowed him to ignore it. Before long, there was a pile of bodies surrounding him as his men began to run towards the guards that were attempting to create a line of fighters but due to not having a leader this failed and they cut through them all with ease.

On and on they went. Heading down every corridor, every nook and cranny they could find. Killing anyone who wasn't one of their own. In a couple of hours, the Rains of Castamere would not be the only song floating around the Westerland's. Where Rhaella had gotten to, Oberyn knew nought, but that was the last thing on his mind. Driving his spear into another guard and beginning to run with his loyal men all wearing grins of pride at what they were doing. For Elia, for Aegon, for Rhaenys. And Tywin would be forced to admit to himself his oh so precious legacy fell to a few thousand Dornish spears. He wished to see him when he was told of what had occurred. For he would be on his way here but they were closer. So much closer.

How many lives had he taken? A dozen? A hundred? He'd lost count a while ago if he even was keeping count at any point. Deeper into the rock they went, deeper than anyone who did not live in the castle had gone probably, but they had one mission and that mission they would succeed in.

Kill the Lannister's.

It was only when he came to a room and saw a few maids with a young boy did he stop. All shaking in fright at what was occurring before he took in the stunted form of the boy. Not even ten name-days yet and a boy he had once come to see when he had just been born out of morbid curiosity.

"That's not a monster, that's a baby."

And the words were still true to this day. Realising on the spot keeping him alive would be an even bigger insult to Tywin and because of this he closed the door and shushed them to remain quiet so no one else would find them.

"No one here, keep going!"

No one argued against the order, running with him as they checked in every room again and killing anyone they came across. The marble tiles and rich Meereenese carpets now practically rivers of blood. Again, paying them no mind as he was too drunk on the joy of what was occurring. After what felt like an age, they were sure no man was left alive in this castle bar the few maids and Tyrion Lannister that is. Making their way back up and seeing Rhaella looking at all the bodies with a satisfied smirk as she walked over to him to speak but he beat her to it.

"I kept five people alive in the castle, one of which will add further injury to our precious lion."

It took a few moments for her to realise what was meant by this but Oberyn knew she approved of his thought process when she nodded. Asking where he had left them as the Dowager Queen ordered men to retrieve them. Many giving him a strange look as he had told them no one was in the room in question but did as they were told.

"Once they are retrieved, Dawn will blast Casterly Rock into flames."

"And then, your Grace?"

"And then we head for the capital, Prince Oberyn."