His mother - predictably - did not take the news well.

In the end, Ren had not had Jaime tell her; he reminded himself that he was a man grown and went to do it himself. Though the knight had been in his mother's chambers when he got there anyway, which was jarring to say the least. There was a moment where Ren took in the scene - the two figures sat far too close together on the edge of the too-small bed (which he suddenly realised both of them slept in) poring over some letter or other - before they noticed he was there and his mother shifted apart immediately.

Although he'd rather not have known that Jaime practically shared his mother's chambers, Ren found himself somewhat glad that someone else was there for this conversation.

"Well?" His mother raised an eyebrow at his silence, though he could see she was concerned by his hesitancy to speak. "Someone must've died for you to be dreading telling me something this much. Or have you got someone with child?"

"No I haven't got anyone with child," Ren pulled a face as Jaime laughed, her remark succeeding in distracting him from the grim news; the horror of his mother asking him such questions made him sound like an eleven-year-old boy.

"Good. I'd hate to be a grandmother at four-and-thirty,"

"Edrick's more likely to make you a grandmother than I," He grumbled. "With a Wildling for the child's mother no less," His little brother had been intrigued by the few girls from beyond the Wall who had stayed at Castle Black, who were equally intrigued by a 'southron' lord who acted as wild as they did. "Hells, Morganna's more likely,"

"Don't speak about your sister in such a way," His mother said, though seemed amused despite herself. "Now, enough delaying - what had you walking in here like you're on the way to your own execution?"

Any trace of laughter left his face immediately. Ren opened his mouth then closed it again, but she would have to find out at some point, and better here in private, from him, than anyone else.

"Daenerys Targaryen is gathering an army on the shores of Essos to cross the Narrow Sea. With her are the Golden Company and twenty thousand Dothraki. Also, freedmen and Unsullied from Slaver's Bay, several Westerosi knights - one of which being Barristan Selmy - as well as her husband, a boy claiming to be Rhaegar's son Aegon. And," He winced, seeing her face growing darker and darker. "Three dragons,"

His mother did not speak a word. She looked as though she was in the middle of a waking nightmare. Likely she was; when he was a boy, he had seen her violently wake from sleep more than once from dreams of Aerys Targaryen, eyes wild like a cornered animal, a silent scream on her lips. When he was very young, before he learned to fight, it was rare that she let him out of her sight at all. At the time, he had often mistaken her tight grip on his wrist as anger, though now recognised that she was terrified to let him go.

"Excellent," Jaime's voice was cutting as ever, though there was a look on his face that Ren had never seen before. "Ice monsters and dead men coming down on us from the north, and fire-breathing dragons to the south. Personally I'd take my chances with the ancient creatures of darkness over Mad Aerys' daughter, but I suppose my case is an exception,"

"Either one is going to try to kill you the moment you cross their path," Ren said. "The choice isn't yours, if that makes things easier. Loreon wants us to go south - "

"We can't leave the Wall guarded by Wildlings," His mother managed to get out.

"I know - that's why me and him will go alone, and leave the soldiers here. By the time they've all travelled to King's Landing it would likely be too late anyway,"

"That's stupid as well. A quarter of the armies of the south are up here,"

"I suppose everyone facing a dragon will be roasted alive in their armour all the same, so perhaps it makes no difference how many men there are," Jaime said with a sharp smile.

"There isn't going to be a battle," Ren grimaced. "Like you said, it would be suicide. Everyone still remembers the Field of Fire - "

"The southron kingdoms can roll over and surrender to the dragon bitch," His mother said. "But I will not be ruled by a Targaryen, not again. Ned might have been furious at the corpses of Aegon and Rhaenys, but I was glad to see all trace of his diseased bloodline wiped out. Robert should have had the girl Daenerys killed in the cradle, and as for this pretender Aegon, if I have my way I'll make him regret ever daring to bear the name Targaryen," She spat the name like a curse.

A heavy silence.

"We won't just surrender," Ren said quietly. "We'll find out how to kill the dragons. Or try to, anyway. Bran could help with that. Because without them, it's just another army of soldiers. We can try and turn Aegon and Daenerys against each other. She likely only agreed to wed him out of panic at a supposed relative with a better claim than her own and an army," He hesitated. "But equally there is nothing to be gained in a hundred thousand men burning alive in a battle we have no hope of winning,"

His mother said nothing for a long moment, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to draw blood in places. Jaime reached out and took her hands to stop her. That seemed to snap her out of it.

She replied in an even tone, but the look in her eyes was wild and scared. "If you go south, I'm coming too,"

Of all the things he had expected her to say, it wasn't that, though Jaime didn't seem too surprised.

"Are you s - "

"Yes," Her tone left no room for argument. "As if I'd let you go alone,"

It occurred to him then that she truly thought whoever went south would die. Her father and brother had been murdered at a Targaryen's whim, he could hardly blame her. But there was no sign that Daenerys was anything like her father. If they showed no sign of hostility, then negociations, at least, would be possible.

"I suppose me going too is out of the question," Jaime's tone was sour.

Both Ren and his mother gave him the same incredulous look.

"You've got to be joking," His mother said.

"Loreon wants the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard here to take over from him as general of the southern armies," Ren said apologetically. "And obviously it's not the best idea to shove the Kingslayer in her face when we're attempting to keep the peace,"

"She'll kill you the moment you step within range of the dragon's fire," His mother said sharply. "I won't - I can't - " She broke off, face twisting into something Ren didn't like to see. "Ren, please leave,"

Part of him wanted to argue that, but he had never seen Jaime Lannister look so concerned over another person before, so instead, with one last glance at the pair of them, Ren left.

*

His mother had been in a black mood since leaving the Wall, and the journey by sea from Eastwatch to King's Landing fell under the shadow of her rage, which served to hide her fear.

It wasn't only that they were going to end up facing a Targaryen army that angered her, but also that Bran was sailing with them. She had been dead set against letting the boy come south at all, though grudgingly admitted that they needed him; a limitless source of knowledge was too useful to turn down. Though that did not mean she was happy about it.

His cousin's new abilities had come as a shock to everyone who knew. It was impossible to comprehend that this little boy had seen everything that had ever happened, even if he didn't remember most of it without focusing hard, and had simply forgotten lots that was deemed irrelevant.

They had questioned him about the Others, but Bran had just shaken his head emphatically and said it wasn't time yet. Loreon had optimistically taken this as a good sign, that they had time before the Others pressed forward. Ren wasn't so sure.

They asked about the dragons too, which gave a more comprehensive if discomforting answer. Bran had told them that a dragon's hide was impenetrable by any man-made weapon, including the underbelly, which was not as soft as the tales would believe. Even a spear down the throat would do very little, simply melting in the heat within. And there was no point trying to use any explosive substance like wildfire against them; fire could not kill a dragon.

The eyes were the only vulnerable place, unless you had another dragon yourself, which they did not. Oh, and apparently blood magic and rituals could let you control the beasts, which was what the Valyrians had done initially before they had woven the magic into themselves. Of course, no one alive today knew how to do it.

If they wanted to kill any of the dragons, they were looking to get close enough to stab it in the eye with a lance, or for someone to have an incredibly lucky shot with a scorpion or crossbow with the beast in flight. If only Bran had learned Bloodraven's skill at archery as well as his ability to see into the past.

Jaime was left in command of the southern armies at the Wall, as planned. Just as Ren's mother wasn't happy about Bran coming with them, Jaime wasn't at all pleased about having to stay, though even one as reckless as he had to admit that having the Kingslayer as part of the party to meet Daenerys Targaryen was not the wisest decision for anyone involved. Best have him have as far away as physically possible.

Loreon had made the decision to keep the soldiers he had brought to fight the Wildlings in the north. It still left a good proportion of men in the south available to counter the Targaryen threat if necessary, but they could not leave the Wall unguarded, not now, not with all they knew. And in truth, if it came to open battle, no amount of men they could muster would do any good against a dragon.

Their best bet for now was negotiation. The best vaguely realistic outcome that Ren and Loreon had been able to foresee was convincing the Targaryens to help them deal with the threat in the North, promising them the Iron Throne afterwards if they succeeded, then having both Daenerys and Aegon perish in the chaos of the battle along with the dragons. Their armies would not outnumber those of the entirety of Westeros.

But for that, they needed a united Seven Kingdoms.

*

King's Landing looked the same as ever, with the notable difference of the Dornish presence at court. Understandably, the Martells had shunned the Red Keep after the deaths of Princess Elia and her children, though in an attempt to mend ties between the new House Baratheon and Dorne, Loreon had invited Prince Oberyn to take a seat on the small council. The Prince had arrived in his absence, which was unfortunate, as he would've been greeted by Tywin Lannister and Mace Tyrell, both of whom he despised. He could only hope that Tyrion and Giana had made things less... tense.

The upcoming arrival of Daenerys Targaryen, and in particular her husband Aegon - supposedly Elia's son, believed long dead - would undoubtedly cause problems.

House Martell had no reason to be loyal to Queen Shireen, whose uncle had usurped the Targaryens, and especially not Tommen, given how they loathed Lord Tywin for murdering their Princess. Part of the reason that Ren and Loreon traveled south with such haste was to persuade Prince Oberyn not to let his house go over to the side of the young man pretending to be his nephew.

For Aegon was a pretender, there was no longer any doubt about that.

"Can you tell us if he is truly Elia's son?" Ren had asked Bran one night, in the cabin they shared on the ship. "They say that the babies were swapped before the Mountain could kill the Prince - that doesn't make sense for so many reasons, but it's hard to prove otherwise,"

The weather was worsening as winter approached, and they were in the middle of a violent storm. Ren had initially been out on deck helping the crew, but had suffered a blow to the head from being knocked over by a wave that sent two men overboard and, dizzy, had been sent inside. Though the wound was not as bad as feared, his head was still throbbing painfully, bleeding too. Neither of them were going to sleep that night, however, so he asked the question that had been bothering him a while.

There was a silence from Bran, as the ship lurched unpleasantly, tossed about on enormous waves.

"I - " The boy broke off, concentrating. "Gods. No, he definitely isn't real," Though it was dark, Ren imagined the face his cousin was pulling, and idly wondered when he had learned to curse. "There was no baby swapping, and I - I just saw the real Prince being smashed against a wall by a giant man,"

"The Mountain,"

Unfortunately, that information counted for little; he had just been curious. Even if they could use Bran as proof to the Martells that Aegon wasn't their nephew, would it even matter? Would they be willing to go along with the lie, for revenge? Probably. That's what Ren would do, if Elia Martell's fate had been Morganna or Aileen's.

He then realised that his ten year old cousin had just seen a baby getting its brains bashed out against a wall while its mother screamed in the background. He hoped Bran hadn't stayed long enough to see what had become of Elia.

"Sorry for having you see that," He said into the darkness as the ship creaked and groaned.

"It's alright," Bran mumbled. "I've seen much worse, although I don't remember most of it unless I try. I didn't know the Princess, or the baby. It's worse when I do... Aunt Ross - "

He broke off, but Ren's blood ran cold as he caught the meaning.

"You saw my mother and - and the Mad King?"

"She was so angry," He whispered, voice starting to take on that strange, distant note as he sounded less like a little boy and more like an old man. "Humiliated, and hurting so much. When she found out she was pregnant, she asked Ser Jaime to rid her of the unborn child, for fear it was a Targaryen bastard. He wouldn't do it, and she couldn't. When she saw your dark hair and green eyes... I thought she'd cry from relief. She just held you close instead, whispering promises that you'd leave this wicked place soon enough, that her brother would come and have all their heads. Her brother did come, but it was Jaime Lannister who killed the Mad King. She smiled to see him bleed out on the floor - she was younger than you are now, covered in scars, demons with purple eyes haunting her sleep, tearing at her, her family screaming and dying - "

"Stop," Ren couldn't stop himself whispering, and Bran seemed to shake himself from a daze.

"Sorry," He said, guilty, sounding like the child he was. "I said too much,"

"It's fine," But it wasn't.

Ren had always had some idea why his mother had always been so closed off about herself, but this was too... vivid. He imagined her as a girl his own age, alone in a foreign city, being treated so awfully, vulnerable as he had never known her, and rage like he had never felt against Aerys Targaryen rose in him. He had always hated the man, of course, but he had never known him, only that he was a monster, which was such a vague term.

"It's horrible," He heard Bran say, and Ren heard the tears choking his voice. "Seeing it all and knowing it all happened already. I saw Father die but couldn't stop the axe falling. I saw Lord Bolton cut Robb's throat and couldn't stop him, then he killed Aunt Ross too. I - I didn't realise what men did to women, until then,"

Gods. To find out how men and women lay together from a vision of... that...

"It's not meant to be like that," Ren found himself saying, getting to his feet and sitting on the edge of his cousin's bed, pulling Bran into a one-armed hug. "That is evil. You should never had had to see it,"

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen!"

"No," He agreed. "It doesn't. Though don't tell anyone else what you saw, especially not your Aunt Ross. Neither will thank you for it,"

"Aunt Ross knows," The boy said miserably. "She asked, nearly," He hesitated. "I'm glad I can never be a lord. I don't want to marry anyone,"

"From that alone, I know you would never think about hurting a soul," Ren told him. "Not all lords hurt their wives. Your father would never have dreamed of it,"

"No, but he hurt mother in a different way," Bran mumbled.

"What?"

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough,"

Well that was disconcerting. But Ren had learned not to push his cousin for information; he tended to get agitated, and refused to tell them either way. Perhaps he meant allowing Jon Snow to grow up at Winterfell? That was the only thing Ned Stark had ever done against his lady wife, surely.

There was a silence, aside from the waves and the creaking timbers.

"I'm alright now," Bran sniffed. "Thanks for sitting with me. Once I sleep, I only really dream of flying, or of Summer. It's quite nice,"

"I dream of Crow," He smiled faintly, moving back over to his own bed. "I'll be back at the Wall tonight, scaring Wildlings and hunting deer," Hopefully he wouldn't wake with the taste of blood in his mouth again, something he was getting uncomfortably used to.

Soon, Bran's quiet breathing filled the cabin, but Ren did not sleep easy that night.

*

The first night they spent in King's Landing, Oberyn Martell met them for dinner in Loreon's solar with a neutral expression but hard eyes, and Ren immediately knew whose side the Red Viper had chosen.

"Lord Storm," He greeted his friend, smiling. "I wish you'd brought your delightful mother along tonight. Why, I do think I've found a Lannister who I don't despise. Are you sure she's Tywin's daughter?" Though the implied meaning was lewd, Ren did think the man sounded sincere underneath that. "She seems far too... kind,"

"We aren't certain," Loreon grinned, overlooking the suggestion about his mother; Oberyn was testing him, seeing how easy he was to rile. Good thing he was a bastard and had heard much worse his entire life. "I asked her to make you and your retinue feel welcome,"

"And what of the Dowager Queen?" The Prince raised an eyebrow. "Cersei? I heard she returned to Casterly Rock, though I highly doubt that was due to missing her childhood home,"

"Cersei is a paranoid drunk who thinks she is far cleverer than she actually is. Her father wanted her out of the way, so she couldn't influence her son," Loreon's smile curled, and Oberyn smirked at his honest words.

"You dislike her. Aunt Cersei didn't take her husband's bastard with her own sister under her wing, then?"

"Have you met the woman?"

The Prince acknowledged that with a wave of his cup, taking a sip of wine.

"Though the bastard of her, ah, beloved brother was under her nose the entire time as his squire and she did not suspect a thing?" He turned his stare to Ren.

"I'd be long dead if she did," He replied carefully.

"Like my sister's children," Oberyn's eyes hardened further.

"Like your sister's children," Ren inclined his head. "Or not, as it seems. Do you believe that this Aegon is who he says he is?"

The Prince seemed somewhat surprised but also entertained by his honesty.

"Northerners are refreshingly to the point," You haven't met my mother yet. "Say that I do believe it," Oberyn raised an eyebrow, not agreeing to anything, no doubt knowing that they could take him hostage if they believed he posed a threat; Ren had been careful to avoid all accusations in his question. "Can you convince me he is not?"

"Prince Oberyn, we have spent the entire journey from Winterfell trying to work it out for ourselves," Loreon said with a rueful grin. "And I'm sure you've thought up everything that we have. Logically, this boy cannot be Rhaegar's son,"

"Spell it out for me,"

Loreon turned to Ren, who smiled grimly.

"Why would they bother to swap the baby?" He started. "They already had a Prince, Viserys, who was older and already hidden away on a safe fortress; much easier to get to, and more likely to succeed in taking back the throne than an infant. And why hide Aegon and not Rhaenys? Surely Princess Elia would not have valued one of her children over the other,"

"Perhaps it was only possible to switch one child," Oberyn shrugged. "Rhaenys was a girl of three, not a baby. Better save one child than let both die,"

"But if the plan truly was to pretend for years that Aegon was dead, it would only have worked if the baby was unrecognisably hurt," Ren continued. "Who could've predicted the brutal way Clegane killed the child? Unless you're suggesting Tywin Lannister had a hand in saving your sister's son?"

Oberyn laughed dangerously; all the answer they needed.

"And by all accounts, your sister fought valiantly to save the boy's life," Loreon spoke now. "She fought far too hard for it to be a baby that wasn't hers. And she would hardly have mistaken another woman's child for her own,"

"Not to mention Varys," Ren said. "He fed Aerys' madness and paranoia, undermining him constantly. Why would he agree to risk so much for the Targaryens and save Rhaegar's son? As for the Golden Company, it's strange they're involved at all. They were formed by and fought for the Blackfyres - why would they support a Targaryen restoration? By all accounts. when the boy Viserys - an undisputed Targaryen Prince - sought to gain their swords years ago, they laughed in his face. Why would they do that and yet break a contract for this Aegon?"

"Are you suggesting the boy is a Blackfyre?" Oberyn would have looked almost amused, if his eyes weren't so calculating. "You're right - I had already thought of most of that. But convincing though your arguments may be, in the end there is no hard evidence against young Aegon not being exactly who he says he is,"

"Very well," Loreon smiled without missing a beat. "Let's leave that discussion, then. It hardly matters, after all," In other words, pretend this conversation had nothing to do with loyalties, simply a debate of an interesting subject, even though all of them knew otherwise. "Prince Oberyn, do tell us of how my sister Myrcella enjoyed her time at Sunspear?"

Your cousin. She's my sister. The Lannister family tree truly was a mess.

If the Red Viper was thrown off guard by this abrupt change in conversation - likely not - he did not show it. The rest of the meal was spent rather pleasantly, in truth. Loreon could charm anyone when he wanted to - that was part of how he had climbed so high - and if Ren wasn't mistaken, Prince Oberyn was eyeing both of them in a similar appraising way to how many men looked at women. He had heard rumours of the man's supposed inclinations, and could believe them now.

They parted on amicable terms, though once the Prince had gone, Loreon turned to Ren.

"We've lost Dorne already,"

"Yes," He agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't get them back. He likes your mother, doesn't he? Could we have her speak to him?"

"He likes her. That doesn't change the fact she's a Lannister - by that fact alone, she would never be able to convince him to abandon his revenge. No, if we have anyone's mother speak with him it should be yours,"

"And what could my mother do in this situation that we can't?"

"Terrify him into it," Loreon snorted.

"I suppose Bran could do that," He mused. "Though I doubt it would make a difference even if Prince Oberyn knew for sure that Aegon is a fake,"

"It's worth a try," His friend shrugged. "At this point, it's so obvious what we're trying to do there's no use in trying to be discreet,"

Ren hummed in agreement.

"This all seems like such a waste of time," He grimaced. "Now we know there are Others and wights bearing down on the North, fighting over who's King or Queen seems... unnecessary,"

"The dragons could equally be the only way we've got of defeating the Others,"

"What if she refuses to help? Or doesn't believe us? Or just doesn't care - for all we know, her plan to stop them could simply be flooding the Neck to keep them contained in the North. If they could swim, they'd have gotten round the Wall already,"

"That's my plan, as a last resort," His friend snorted. "But from everything I've heard, Daenerys Targaryen has a soft heart for the huddled masses. I don't doubt that we'll be able to persuade her to help,"

"Yes, by offering the Iron Throne up on a silver platter," Ren narrowed his eyes. "Even if she gets rid of the Others, what if we can't pull it off and she doesn't die? We're stuck with a Targaryen King and Queen,"

"If we don't let Daenerys think we're giving her the throne, it's death by fire," Loreon sighed. "And if we somehow survive that, then it's death by ice without her to help us. And if we can't kill her, part of the deal can be that I remain Hand, and that she spares Tommen and Shireen,"

"Optimistic," Ren snorted. "Considering your father killed her brother, you'll be lucky if she spared your wretched life at all. I'm not sure her bleeding heart will be so forgiving to those who have actually wronged her family,"

"Your father killed Aerys," Loreon grinned. "If I die, so do you,"

"I'm not stupid enough to linger in the south once you hand the kingdoms over to another mad Targaryen,"

"No, you'll flee North, to die at the hands of ice monsters,"

Ren gave a short laugh, and they fell silent.

"I'll have my mother invite the Prince to dine with House Stark, with me and Bran," He said. "At the very least, we can use Bran to blackmail him. A man like that will have all kinds of secrets,"

"Does blackmail work on a man who has no shame?"

*

Both Ren, his mother and his cousin were already mounted on horses and ready to leave by the time Prince Oberyn trotted up on his sand steed. Lady Rosennis had arranged to go for a ride outside the city - accompanied by guards from both Winterfell and Sunspear, of course - instead of discussing matters over lunch in the castle.

"Prince Oberyn," His mother did not smile in greeting, though did nod.

"Lady Rosennis," He eyed her appraisingly. "Your horse looks to have some Dornish blood,"

Ren recognised it as the same elegant but half-wild beast she had ridden south from Winterfell, years ago, and all over the Seven Kingdoms since then, leaving it in King's Landing before she left for the Vale. He was surprised it had lasted this long.

She did smile then. "Most likely. It's fast, but still as skittish as a two-year-old,"

As if to prove her point, the horse spooked at a stable boy walking past with a saddle, lurching to one side then rearing bolt upright, almost enough to fall over backwards. His mother merely looked exasperated, perfectly stable in her seat, calming it with a steady hand.

"It's been a while since I rode this one. Evidently no one has dared ride it since, so today shall be... entertaining,"

Oberyn looked amused. "I cannot blame you for not riding side-saddle, my lady,"

Ren did not miss the way he eyed her long legs, covered in breeches and a split riding habit but still far more visible than a normal gown. She clearly noticed, too, but aside from a brief flash of bemusement, ignored it.

"You've met my son, Ser Renan,"

"I have," The Prince smiled at him. "We had a most interesting talk over dinner with the Lord Regent,"

"Interesting?" Ren raised an eyebrow. That was one word for the discussion they'd had. Frustrating was another.

Oberyn seemed to get the sentiment behind his question, and laughed unapologetically.

The conversation was (relatively) innocuous as they rode through the city, though his mother's horse spooked at everything that moved, and threatened to bolt off down the street multiple times.

"I heard rumours that you killed your own husband, my lady," The Prince inquired. "And fed his son to the wolves. I'm sure they were exaggerated, but - "

"They weren't," She said, guiding her nervous horse past a fruit stall and sitting through its protests well. "I stabbed Lord Bolton in the heart,"

"It was only repaying the favour," Ren said darkly. "Ramsay deserved worse than being eaten alive by direwolves, and you were far too kind to Bolton,"

That had been one of the moments where the line between his mind and Crow's blurred. In his anger and hatred - the bastard had just stabbed him in the side after all - he had felt some of what his direwolf did as he tore into Ramsay's flesh. He had not shared that with anyone, and wasn't planning to.

"Can I ask why?" Oberyn asked delicately.

"My husband murdered my nephew, almost killed me and my daughter and sacked my home," Ren's mother said flatly. "He'd had it coming for a long time,"

He eyed her for a moment, before shaking his head, a smile curling his lips.

"You are a woman who understands revenge, then," He sounded impressed, though still remained hard-eyed. "Fortunate that you got yours, in the end,"

That was a loaded sentence if ever he heard one.

It was refreshing to leave the city, even though they had only been there for several days. The Kingswood was cool and quiet, and smelled nowhere near as foul as King's Landing. The leaves were turning, and many had fallen from the trees already, leaving plenty of branches bare.

"Are you a squire yet, young Stark?" The Prince asked Bran, realising that Ren's mother was stalling the true conversation for later on.

"No," His cousin replied, clearly having forgotten his courtesies since leaving Winterfell. Oberyn didn't seem to care. "I used to want to be a knight but now I can't hold a sword,"

He held up his mutilated hand. Considering how he had once longed so greatly to win his spurs, Ren was surprised to see he wasn't more upset about the fact.

"You could train with your left hand," The Prince said. "You're young enough for it to make no difference,"

"Bran's talents lie elsewhere," Ren remarked, making the boy smile faintly.

His mother let out a short laugh, which spooked her horse and sent it leaping several steps ahead before she got it in hand. The three of them increased their speed to catch her up, now a fair distance ahead of their guards. Where they couldn't be overheard.

"You could say that," She said. "Bran can see the past," She said it so casually that it took even Ren a moment to recognise her words.

"My lady?" Oberyn asked, amused.

"Did you have to start with that, Mother?" Ren shook his head, but bit back a smile.

"And how exactly do you suggest I dance around it?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not something that's made any less jarring by a gentle build up,"

"No, but at least you wouldn't sound like you've drunk a bottle of shade-of-the-evening,"

"That would kill you. Though are you sure you haven't taken a few sips, my lady?" The Prince inquired politely. "I admit, I'd be impressed you're still riding if you had, let alone so well,"

"Believe me or don't," She shrugged, barely batting an eye as her fool of a horse shied away from a particularly threatening leaf at the edge of the path. "I don't care if you think me mad. If you want proof, he can tell you things about yourself that not another soul knows," She gestured at the boy. "Apologies for treating you like a performing monkey, but this really is important,"

"It's alright," Bran said, leaning across horses and whispered in the Prince's ear.

But slowly the Red Viper's slightly amused, slightly bemused expression changed, his face growing serious, eyes hard and angry. Bran moved back and there was a silence.

"Very well," Oberyn granted, nodding. "The boy can see the past. Or read minds. What of it?"

"Aegon is not Princess Elia's son," Bran said immediately.

"Ah," The Prince smiled. "Of course. Whilst I'll admit you have some gift - and I'll believe you easier than most would, considering the things I've seen in Essos - there is nothing stopping you from lying to me on the orders of your family,"

"I'm not lying!" The boy said indignantly. "Send out spies to find out it's true. Aegon has been supported his whole life by someone called Magister Illyrio - "

"Illyrio?" Oberyn cut him off. "As in the Pentoshi merchant?"

A glanced at Ren and his mother; he shrugged, and she shook her head.

"Probably," Bran said. "It's the same man who arranged for Daenerys to marry the Dothraki man,"

"He sent her and her brother Viserys off into the Dothraki Sea to never been seen again," The Prince said carefully. "Until the girl emerged with three dragons,"

Ren glanced at his mother; how did he know that? Had they been in contact? Probably.

"Well, yes," Bran flushed. "But he thought they'd both die out there. That's not the point. Illyrio's wife, Serra, had a son before she married him. She looked Valyrian - "

"As many do in the Free Cities,"

"Yes, but she was one the last descendants of House Blackfyre,"

A silence.

"House Blackfyre went extinct,"

"Not in the female line," Ren's mother said quietly.

"Serra was also sister to Varys the Spider," Bran said, and they all silenced at that. "He had silver hair too, that's why he always shaved his head. Serra died, but Varys handed her baby to Jon Connington after the Rebellion, saying he was Prince Aegon. Illyrio loved his wife, and is old friends with her brother - that's why he helped her son,"

"And likes the idea of having influence over the Iron Throne too, I'd imagine," Oberyn leaned back in the saddle, as though stretching. "I believe you - like I said, easier than most. The boy is not my nephew. I'm just not sure it matters," He smiled a sharp smile. "Tell me this, boy. Did Tywin give the order? To kill Elia, Rhaenys and the real Aegon?"

Bran screwed up his face in what Ren had come to realise was him trying to remember. He hoped he didn't go too far and have to see the brutal deaths again.

"He told Ser Gregor and Ser Amory to kill Rhaegar's children," He said. "But not Elia. He regretted, afterwards, that he hadn't specified not to kill the Princess, and that he should've said to use a pillow to suffocate the children rather than... what they did,"

"And there you have what kind of man Tywin is. I want him to confess, then I want his head," And then you'll have the swords of Dorne went unsaid.

"Loreon can order him to send you the heads of Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane, and promise you that Lord Tywin will never have a place in court," His mother knew her words were damning. "But he cannot kill him. It would lose us the west. And he would not allow himself to be named kinslayer besides,"

A heavy silence followed that. All of them knew then that they had as good as lost Dorne, though he didn't see any alternative. Better to lose the Martells than the Lannisters.

His mother's horse clearly wasn't happy either, giving a violent buck for no reason. It was a sign of her bad mood that she gave it a sharp kick with her heels in reprimand instead of using her hands and seat to calm it, which of course only resulted in a worse tantrum from the animal. Ren would never know how his mother hadn't ended up crashing to the floor a hundred times

"I'd offer to swap mounts with you, Lady Stark," Oberyn said as the animal bucked and pranced and reared. "But I wouldn't ride that beast for all the gold in Casterly Rock,"

"You would," She eyed him, calming the horse slightly. "Just to spite Tywin Lannister,"

He laughed at that. "Perhaps," The Prince said, a wicked glint in his eye. "Though I wouldn't do near so well as you. Why, if you ride men as well as you ride horses, my lady, no wonder you caught the Kingslayer's eye,"

Another man might have drawn his sword in response to someone making a crude comment like that to their mother, joke or not. Ren did not, knowing she could handle herself perfectly well and that she would not appreciate his interference. He did, however, share a look of mutual disgust with Bran.

"Hang back with me," He murmured to his cousin, reining in his horse. "I don't particularly want to hear this conversation,"

Even riding some distance behind, he did catch his mother's next words.

"Yes, I often enjoy kicking men in the ribs," Sure enough, his mother was quick with a sharp retort, though her tone was more dry than irritated. "I didn't catch his eye, besides,"

"He caught yours?" Oberyn grinned even as she shook her head wearily. "How refreshing. Impressive too, tearing him away from that beautifully vile sister of his. Though personally I'd have done my best to have both golden Lannister twins,"

Ren bit back a snort of laughter at that, despite his distaste for the current conversation and his disappointment at the continued lack of any Dornish alliance. Bran had flushed bright red.

"Would that be to spite Lord Tywin too?" His mother seemed genuinely amused; the Prince was joking, though if the opportunity presented itself Ren doubted that he would turn it down. "You're welcome to try - Cersei would scratch your eyes out,"

"What about the Kingslayer?"

His mother seemed to think for a little too long on that.

"Hm. Now, no - he'd think it more amusing than anything to be angry about. At one point, though... not impossible,"

Right, that was enough. He couldn't ride any further out of earshot without being behind the guards.

"Mother," Ren called out, fighting the urge to retch. "Bran's tired - we're going back to the city,"

"But I'm not - "

He held up a hand to silence the boy. For someone who knew quite literally everything, Bran could be rather lacking in tact. His mother turned around and nodded to acknowledge his words, and he could not ride away fast enough.

Perhaps it was good she got along well with the Dornish Prince. If nothing else, Oberyn Martell might convince the Targaryens to spare the Starks once they'd won the throne.

*

Some days later, Ren was surprised to receive a message early one morning requesting that he spar with Oberyn Martell. It was early enough that the practice yard was almost empty and they faced each other in the centre of the open space, no one around to listen in.

Though Ren was almost as good as Jaime was with a sword, Oberyn's spear had more reach and it moved in a way he had rarely had a chance to practice against; the Dornish Prince was more than a match for him, and the amount they each won or lost was relatively even. Though if the fight was in earnest, Ren would have sliced that spear in half long before he had a chance to lose.

Of course, sparring was not all they had come to do here.

"I thought you should know," The Red Viper said, eyes dark and watchful as they paced in a circle. "Word reached me of the state of Slaver's Bay,"

He struck suddenly and without warning, quicker than Ren could blink, but he managed to dodge out of the way, his sword blocking the blow for good measure. Fighting a spearman, he had found, was more about footwork than steel on steel.

"Yes?" Ren was interested in that. The little they knew of Slaver's Bay was simply that Daenerys Targaryen had conquered it, freed all the slaves and taken Meereen as her seat before abandoning it to take Westeros.

He lunged forward with his practice sword, feinting one way then striking the other side, though Oberyn did not allow him to land a hit.

"According to my reliable sources," The prince said wryly. "Daenerys Targaryen left a mess in her wake. Perhaps if she had stayed longer she would've had time to deal with the consequences of freeing every single slave in one blow without preparing a replacement income for the city... However, she left the moment she heard that there was a boy claiming to be her long-lost nephew with an army at his back who wanted to take Westeros,"

He struck again, but Ren blocked it.

"The marriage with her Meereenese husband was annulled," He continued. "And she handed control of the city to him, which has now returned to the old Ghiscari ways of slaving of course. Her dragons are dangerous to all but her. The very beast she rides has killed at least one child for meat, and the other two are uncontrollable - she locked both of them up under a pyramid," He paused, next words careful. "Those two burned my nephew Quentyn alive,"

He eyed Ren to see his reaction to that.

"Your brother sent his son to Daenerys," He raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised. "To pledge Dorne's allegiance? A marriage pact?"

"Naturally," Oberyn said lightly. "The Queen laughed in his face, claiming she was already wed. Not that it stopped her annulling the marriage the moment her supposed nephew turned up. I suppose Quentyn thought he'd prove himself by trying to ride one of her dragons. Foolish boy - everyone always said how utterly sensible he was, but I saw the moron within," He raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, strong alliances are not formed on dead princes,"

Ren inclined his head. "And for you this means..?"

"Though her intentions may be good, Daenerys Targaryen is incompetent, with an unhealthy dose of self-righteousness and idealism," The Red Viper shrugged. "Even if she's not as mad as her father, the dragons are dangerous and all but completely wild. If she were to die with those beasts, it would be best for everyone,"

Well that was good news. With regard to their relationship with Dorne, at least. It was very bad news in every other sense. Perhaps if all else failed he could have endured a Targaryen Queen if she was competent, reasonable and just, but if this was true, then that was not the case at all.

"And what of Aegon? Fake or otherwise, would you be willing to pretend he's your nephew for the sake of revenge?"

There was no place for veiled words here.

"The boy is green and untested, and not of my blood," Oberyn said carefully, then seemed to wait for Ren to reply.

There was a long silence. This was the moment, both of them knew, that could make or break the Dornish alliance.

"It was an evil thing that happened to your sister," Ren said. "If Tywin Lannister were to die say, several years from now. Some time after everything has calmed down. If he was to pass from some mysterious illness, I will see that no one looks too hard into it. He'll be an old man, by then. Though if this unfortunate event happens any sooner, I'll know exactly where to look. And not another soul knows of this arrangement, aside from your brother,"

The Red Viper smiled then, not particularly nicely, though his eyes shone with satisfaction.

"Renan Snow," He held out a hand, which Ren shook. "Dorne will stand with the Iron Throne against this foreign threat,"

Though Loreon was skilled at making alliances through friendship, favours and charisma, sometimes the best way to do it was through blood and vengeance. This was the best they could hope for. The Targaryens would be met with a strong, united Seven Kingdoms, which would at least give them power to bargain with.

"Good," He smiled tightly. "You don't have any poisons that could kill a dragon, do you?"

*

Edited November 2024

This chapter did my head in. Usually I write by literally just writing a scene, which I obviously go back and edit but the first draft makes up a lot of the published chapter. This one, however, I literally had to force myself to put whatever shit I could churn out onto the page (a very contrived version of Bran's revelation) as barely a skeleton of the final chapter, just to get over the writer's block. 

Oberyn Martell is also very hard to write, as I have found out. But at least his head is in one piece! What did you think of my explanation of fAegon? That's perhaps the one part of this chapter I'm fully happy with.

And poor Ross... Next up, enter Daenerys - this isn't specifically going to turn into Targaryen-bashing but bear in mind many of my characters actively despise that family and it's from their point of view. I quite like Dany in the books - and loved her last chapter in ADWD despite that infamous line - but she definitely has her flaws.

Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!