Bab 33: Rook's Rest
Situated northwest of Duskendale stood the castle of Rook's Rest, located on the northern shore of Blackwater Bay and the seat of the ancient House Staunton. This castle was larger than Rosby but for some reason it still counted as a modest keep. Modest in the Westerosi sense, mind you, for it would be large by European standards. Westerosi preferred things to be large and castles were no exception, even when the size of such fortifications subtracted from their defensibility and Harrenhal was the most prominent example of that logic. One would think the Westerosi were compensating for something.
Atop Shadowmare I stared from the hills at the First and Second legions surrounding the pink curtain walls, having erected a wooden palisade to protect themselves from local guerrillas. At least we had a port that would serve well for ferrying supplies from Essos once Dragonstone and its neighbouring islands fall to us. The plan was to strike along the coast and use each port as a forward operating base to keep our supply lines as short as possible. But while I could see the first two legions, I couldn't help but wonder where the Third and Fourth were.
"Are you looking forward to returning to the queen you swore to protect?" I asked Ser Barristan who rode alongside me.
"I swore an oath to stand by her side; but should Queen Daenerys decide I am better placed beside yours it is not my place to refuse Her Grace's request. It is the duty of a knight to follow."
You know that more than anyone, don't you, Ser Barristan? While knights loved to paint themselves in bright colours, followed all these little customs and held themselves to high standards, they were soldiers at the end of the day. Jaime Lannister was right in that oaths were conflicting promises that were impossible to follow. Who would you serve if your lord went against your king when you're sworn to both? Imperial Knights in the not-Holy, un-Roman, not-really-an-Empire had an easier time because they swore directly to the Kaiser himself. The conflicting oaths also left knights an excuse to scrap whatever vows they found uncomfortable so long as they had another to hide behind. I might even simplify a knight's oaths by making them swear only to the ruling monarch and no one else. How many lords will that enrage?
"As it is," was my even response. I studied the living embodiment on how flawed Westerosi honour was and changed the subject. "I do think Her Grace will be impressed by what I managed to achieve. How often do I return with a young royal in tow?" I shot him a playful half-smile. "Tell me, ser, what do you know of Tommen Baratheon from his days at court? What was his relation to Joffrey and his mother?"
"Pri—Tommen has always been a sweet boy. Both he and Myrcella are. They were quiet and received little acknowledgement from the court. Myrcella spent most of her days in the Red Keep's gardens while Tommen spent his exploring or watching knights in the training yard. Both spent considerable time in the royal library."
"Did Joffrey?" I asked with a humourless smile.
Barristan shook his head. "Seldom did he put his mind to either martial or intellectual pursuits. He's a cruel boy but knew to hide it when he should. His mother taught him well with that at least. I do not think either of the younger children miss the Red Keep for their older brother took pleasure in tormenting them ceaselessly."
"I heard Joffrey is cruel. Few have any love for him."
"His mother does. Queen Cersei indulged her oldest more than what can be considered healthy. She protected him too much, spoiled and indulged every one of his fancies. Boys should be disciplined else they become rowdy, and that's the fathers place for a boy seldom takes heed of his mother's threats. But Robert Baratheon was no father to the boy. When Joffrey was little, it was known Robert held little affection for . . . what he saw as his son. Even as a babe he concerned himself little with the boy who cried whenever Robert picked him up, unlike the children he sired outside the marriage bed. Robert was a man who enjoyed children so much as he was loved by them and cared little when he wasn't."
"I believe there was a story with a cat, ser. That Joffrey killed the animal by opening its belly when he was young."
"That story is true, my prince, though the queen did her best to ensure it didn't leave the walls of the Red Keep." He looked surprised I even knew about it. "It was a kitchen cat popular with the cooks because of her skills catching rats that came in from the streets. In return the cooks were wont to feed her scraps and fish heads. When she got pregnant from a large black tomcat, one cook told Joffrey she had kittens in her belly, thinking he might want one because many small boys want a pet, be it a kitten or pup to follow them around. I was standing guard for King Robert when it happened, alongside Stannis and Renly and Robert Arryn. The boy had opened the poor thing with a kitchen knife and pulled them out to show his father. 'Hunting' the boy proudly proclaimed; his hands red with blood from the . . . the kittens in his hands. I watched as Robert hit the boy so hard Joffrey fell to the ground, spitting out two front teeth. Stannis and Renly pulled His Grace back, thinking he had killed the boy. King Robert was never a gentle man in his wroth and had in him the strength the kill a grown man, let alone a boy of four years."
I had little to say about the cat. I already had more than enough reasons to hate Joffrey without adding animal cruelty to the list, but between killing Eddard because the mood struck him (and maybe Littlefinger's influence), and having Sansa beaten and sexuality assaulted, the story of the cat easily took the top five. I always preferred animals to people. "Were Myrcella and Tommen troubled by Joffrey's behaviour? Did he turn his attention to his younger siblings?"
"He did. I'd mentioned he ridiculed and abused Tommen. Myrcella, not so much. She is stronger than both her brothers, displays more courage and a strong will. If anyone protects Prince Tommen during his brother's episodes, it is her. Prince Aegon . . . I don't know what you plan to do with Cersei's children, but I beg of you, be merciful. For Tommen and Myrcella at the least. They are innocent and kind. I know you cannot let them go for their claim is too much a threat but pray, do not do to them what their grandfather did to Aegon and Rhaenys. Enough children have died."
"I would not dream of it, Ser Barristan." I had no desire to let any child die. Daenerys wouldn't allow it either and it would do no good for our reputation. Oh, some might want retribution like Connington, but there were plenty of ways to keep them from being a threat whilst making ourselves look good. "Rest assured, ser, no harm will come to Tommen and Myrcella. Of Joffrey I am not so sure. Pray, what do you think I should do with him?"
"Joffrey?" Selmy thought for a moment. "Mayhaps executing the boy would earn you friends in the North, but it might bring suspicion in places where Joffrey's cruelty is not well known. For many kings throughout Westeros' history, the Wall is considered a much safer place. You will not be regarded as a tyrant, and the boy will be too far away to threaten you. Should Joffrey attempt to flee, he will be decried as an oathbreaker and fit for the block."
Also in a place full of Northmen who'll hate his guts, as well as a sullen boy and his pet wolf. I grinned slyly. "I think you have the right idea, Ser Barristan. I will convince Her Grace to send Joffrey to the Wall if we have the chance." But that did leave the other Lannisters to be discussed. Cersei's fate will surely be an interesting affair.
I rode straight to Daenerys' tent in the centre of the camp, a vast white pavilion guarded by several Reds in suits of plate and scale, with long scarlet cloaks hanging from their shoulders and polished helms sprouting a pair of dragon wings. I greeted their captain who also wore an officer's horsehair crest. "Ser Jon Hawkwood," I smiled, "It seems to me Rook's Rest is surrounded. Am I correct to assume it has yet to fall to our host?"
"It already has, my prince," his voice was flat. He looked down at the roses I'd plucked and fashioned into a makeshift bouquet. "Lord Symon Staunton bent the knee to Her Grace soon as we arrived. He begged forgiveness for turning his swords against the rightful queen and Queen Daenerys lifted him up and kissed both his cheeks. Now he works alongside us and has opened his castle to her."
"Yet she remains in her tent."
"Her Grace prefers the comfort of her pavilion. She only enters Rook's Rest to attend her court in the Great Hall. She distrusts Lord Staunton and follows your example of being close to the men."
She's learning then.
Entering, I was reminded why she might not want to take a smaller castle bedchamber. The pavilion was larger than some common rooms of many an inn we passed, and full of every comfort one might ever need. Sleeping on the featherbed and sleeping furs were the four dragons curled around each other and now the size of dogs. In the corner of the tent I noticed something new: a suit of black plate and scales, with golden mail and finely etched details on the breast. The helm was like those outside, crowned with a pair of dragon wings and engraved with patterns. It was large enough for a girl of fifteen. So polished that I saw my own face in it. The face of a black dragon standing in a dark void.
All of Daenerys' handmaidens curtsied to me and then I realised Daenerys wasn't there. Where is she?
There was a giggle and barely a second later I was caught in a hug attack from the Mother of Dragons.
The five girls were all laughing, and I was taken aback before joining in with a soft chuckle. Then my face fell somewhat by Daenerys accidentally crushing the flowers. But she held on, giggling and radiating nothing but pure joy. Her Grace was taller than I had last seen her, lithe and graceful, and her hair had grown to her jawline. She was the happiest I'd seen her in a while. It was adorable.
"Egg," she smiled, all giddy. She pulled away and her eyes fell to the flowers in my hands where she lit up even more. Whenever Daenerys sat before a court or her generals, her face turned to stone and she spoke in a voice all authoritative and loud so people would listen. That was not the girl before me. The girl before me was Dany, not the Mother of Dragons. I preferred Dany. "Are these for me?"
Grinning, I handed them over. "A little gift I thought to give you. Do you like them?"
She gently took them from my hands. Yellow waspwillow, dusky roses, wild mint and silken lady's lace. She pressed them against her chest. Her violet eyes lingered on them a moment before leaning in to smell them. "They are beautiful." Dany handed them to Irri and then wrapped her arms around my neck, rising herself on her toes to kiss me tenderly on the cheek. Before she could let go, I wrapped my arms around her in an intimate embrace and pressed my forehead against hers. "I'm glad you're back, Egg."
"As am I, my dear." Kissing Daenerys on the forehead, I asked the handmaidens to take their leave, and they did, curtsying and leaving us alone with the dragons. "I do have another gift for you. One that carries more strategic significance for our campaign. I think you'll like it a lot."
"What is it?" she pouted. "Tell me. I don't like you keeping secrets."
"If Her Graces desires. Remember when I sneaked into King's Landing and stole the little wolf girl? I'd done something similar with one of Cersei's children. The young prince."
"The young prince?" Dany thought for a moment and then her pretty eyes grew to the size of eggs. "Tommen Baratheon? You managed to steal Tommen Baratheon? Why didn't you send a raven? How did you accomplish it?" She withdrew her hands and stood straight, the Mother of Dragons returning at once.
I tapped the side of my nose. "My little secret."
Daenerys wasn't impressed with my answer. "Was it your dreams again or was it the mage? Lyra went with you with her glass candle . . . is that how?"
"Ever heard the saying that a wizard never tells his secrets? The how is not important. All that matters is that we have stolen an important hostage from the Lannisters who'll be all the more cautious against us. We have Joffrey's heir, and should anything happen, well, they wouldn't want anything to happen to the boy. Granted, from what I've heard from Barristan, I do not think Joffrey would concern himself all that much. His mother will, however."
Dany's brow furrowed. "How old is this boy? Eight? I will not kill nor hurt a child. I will not be Tywin Lannister and kill children. No matter what my advisers say, Aegon."
But what about Joffrey? "I know you won't." I smiled to take the sting from my words and took her hands in mine. "You are a compassionate and kind queen, silverheart. I do not intent for Tommen Baratheon to be harmed – in the same way as Arya Stark – but we cannot allow Cersei to believe that. None of the Lannisters will be willing to do anything foolish if we keep Tommen close by." I cupped Dany's cheek and brushed a strand of hair, enjoying the silky softness of it. "But should anything happen to Joffrey himself, we have the Lannister claimant to the Iron Throne . . . that is unless they plan to crown Myrcella which may destroy their support with the more conservative lords of Westeros, but I don't think Myrcella will be a problem." And all it cost me was half my men and a close friend . . .
Dany smiled weakly. "Hopefully she won't be. I hope that once King's Landing falls, the majority of the Westerlands will bend the knee. Then we can turn our attention to Lord Stannis. Connington is very concerned about him. More so than Robb Stark." With a softer voice she said, "Blackheart was unhappy with your decision to turn south."
"I never expected him to be overjoyed with my choice. He shouldn't be complaining, mind you. I hope this time he uses words to scold me and not the whip. Pray, are the Crackclaw men with you?"
"They were but Blackheart decided they should join the Fourth at the Antlers and force House Buckwell to bend the knee. Connington claims it's to reinforce our western flank against Lord Bolton and Tywin who's already left Harrenhal and is now moving west."
I was confused. "West?"
"To deal with Robb Stark," Daenerys answers. "Now Harrenhal has been taken over by Northmen under the command of Lord Bolton of the Dreadfort. He's been sending raids against our forces and Lysono Maar states he's probing Maidenpool. We fear he means to attack."
I grimaced. "Wouldn't he have to fight through the Fourth then? Surely they're protecting our westernmost flank." According to intelligence, the Northern army numbered anywhere from ten to twenty thousand. Robb took the greater part of his mounted strength to launch deep raids into the Westerlands and they numbered six thousand at least. Roose took the rest.
"They're too far south. Connington says Maidenpool is well garrisoned and provisioned. They have five hundred legionaries as well as fighters from Crackclaw Point. Blackheart fears not only Maidenpool falling, but Lord Bolton using Harrenhal as a base to strike our supply lines. We can talk about it later."
"We should. But Rook's Rest though, I heard his lordship bent the knee. That is good. You didn't need to attack the walls."
Daenerys Targaryen smiled, took my hand and pulled me to two leather chairs facing each other. Dany pulled her own seat closer to mine and offered me a bowl of grapes and some Arbor Red that tasted of summer. "Lord Symon was quick to bend the knee once we showed up with our army. After House Staunton joined the others to take the field against you and was soundly defeated, he grew very sorrowful and begged forgiveness for turning against his rightful liege."
"Convenient," I muttered. "Were you merciful?"
"I need to be. What queen would I be if I didn't accept his offer?" She didn't look happy with it though. "He dipped his banners, personally met me and bent the knee. I rose him up only for a few hostages to join my court to dissuade any further rebellion. He wasn't happy about it and I fear Lord Staunton holds no love for me. His father, Lord Symond, served as father's Master of Laws and was executed with wildfire shortly before Lord Tywin sacked King's Landing. He offered me his chambers, but I prefer my tent. It's comfy and the castle is cold. Nor do I enjoy Lord Symon's company. He's polite, but that's only because he needs to be with the Golden Company outside his walls. I also need to remain close to my commanders and hear what they have to say, and they distrust Lord Symon and his servants. I heard what happened on the kingsroad and I've got a good deal I want to say."
I hoped Dany didn't see my posture tighten. I did what I needed to do. I won't regret it nor beg for her forgiveness. Daenerys maybe a moralist, but she wasn't a fool. She would understand. "I suppose we should talk about it, Your Grace. About what I had done." I was staring directly into the gaze of the Mother of Dragons. Now I was not her husband so much as her servant and I could expect the same treatment as one. In response, I sat up straighter and held my head high.
"I spoke to the lords and knights you had captured and sent north to Maidenpool. They spoke well of Ser Barristan but not of you. They claimed you put their men to the sword. When I questioned the legionaries you sent with them, they confirmed their words and tried to defend your actions."
I didn't say anything. Instead I took a grape from the bowl of fruit. It was large and red and plump, then took a bite.
"What right did you have to make that order?" Daenerys continued, her voice sharpening like that of Valyrian steel as her violet eyes bore into mine. "What right did you have to put men to death when they had surrendered and pleaded for mercy?"
"They were enemies," I told my wife blandly. "Traitors. They rose their swords against us, and I promise you they wouldn't have shown mercy should we be on the losing side. If we lose this war, you cannot count on Lord Tywin and his ilk offering you clemency. Remember what he did to your niece and nephew and they weren't leading an army nor did they have dragons. Then there's my men. Seldom are sellswords offered the chance for mercy. The knights of Westeros dislike their kind and are more than eager to put them to the sword. War is war, Your Grace. People will die. Men, women and children. There is no such thing as a bloodless war."
"Is that your excuse? They surrendered. They are my people. People I'll be ruling over. Has it not occurred to you how we'll be viewed? That you would kill people who've surrendered and tarnish the righteousness of our campaign?"
Your reputation, you mean. Leaning back, I gave Daenerys a long hard look. "I didn't know you were so concerned with the enemy and how you don't desire to shed their blood."
"The blood of my enemies I will shed gladly. The blood of innocents is another matter."
"You consider the Crownlords who serve the Lannisters innocent?"
"Don't put words in my mouth, Aegon. It's not them who concern me. The lords are traitors and deserve to be punished. More so for the lords directly sworn to the crown. But it's the men who serve them. I know they are called upon by their lords to fight and they're usually little more than farmers and craftsmen who've had a spear pressed into their hands and told to march. I have no desire to wet the ground with the blood of those forced to fight. When Jon Connington touched your shoulder with his sword, what did he say? Go forth and kill the weak, or go forth and defend them?" She crossed her arms and awaited my answer.
Do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege, and your queen, I remembered Connington say. "I remember making oaths."
"You did. I hoped that when we did fight, we'd spare anyone who throws down their weapons so that those we spare would join us. Fewer men die, the less the realm will bleed."
"Then mayhaps you'd like to hear my reasons for doing what I did, Your Grace, so that you might understand why I needed to kill the prisoners rather than just letting them go or keeping a watch over them. Rarely is the world so clean cut."
"Then explain. I'll allow you that and you might have had good reason to do so."
"As you know, my legion was never at full strength but only half. Not even that, to be honest. We had ambushed an army twice our number and took hundreds of casualties. With my plans to go south, we hadn't the supplies nor the manpower to watch over prisoners or to transport them north. Nor could we let them bend the knee and open our arms without posing a threat should the Lannisters send another army our way and these new allies press a sword against my throat. That's not counting matters like how they'll inflate our numbers with little way to feed them and our limited number of horses."
Dany didn't say anything.
"Seldom does a victorious army outnumbered by an enemy have the luxury of mercy when it comes to prisoners. No quarter is common more oft than not."
"I have no desire to be a butcher queen, Aegon Blackfyre. They might fight for the Lannisters, but they are still my people and I'll not have my husband slaughter my own subjects. You will not do such a thing in the future unless I permit it myself. I hope for peace in Westeros, and we'll not be offered such a thing if you perform more of these cruel actions. The lords will not bend the knee to a butcher but fight all the harder. They will not surrender, so they will not kneel. If they come and beg for mercy, you will raise them up and accept their fealty."
I shook my head. "I cannot make that promise, Your Grace. I will do what I need to do to win, whether that's through actions that can be considered ruthless or merciful. I will not strap a hand behind my back when I need two to fight. I will try to ensure innocents are not hurt if I can help it, but I can offer you no more than that. My priority will always be to your cause and the well-being of my men."
Daenerys Targaryen frowned at me, looking ready to say something, but fell back into her large leather chair. "Is that so?" Her voice was weak, and I expected her to make a stronger stand. "I will always disagree, but I know I cannot stop you. I also know you mean me no harm and everything you have done has been for me. I only ask you don't go too far. I have no desire to be regarded as another tyrant. I wanted my reign to be a new Westeros. Not one built on the blood of innocents. But it seems that will not be."
The sorrowful look on her face had me wanting to lean over and touch her, to wrap Daenerys in my arms and promise I wouldn't do such a thing. But I didn't. I had no love for killing either, but I was a realist. I knew wherever my army went, atrocities would follow. Oh, I could limit the damage but that was all I could hope for. "I will do my best, Your Grace."
From her eyes, I couldn't tell whether she believed me. I don't think she did. Dany sighed, pulling her knees to her chest and hugged them, rocking back and forth. "Can I admit something, Egg? I never imagined Westeros to be like this. Viserys told me all I knew before stepping foot here."
Neither did I. But then again, I never imagined I would die and be reborn as Young Griff either. I always imagined I would just cease to exist. "I believe you mentioned Westeros being different."
She nodded, resting her chin on her knees. "My brother simply called it 'our land.' The Essosi call it the Sunset Kingdoms and that makes it sound much more romantic than it actually is. I was told all these stories of what the Seven Kingdoms were like before Robert came to power. All that I see are burnt fields and people who are starving. I rode out of Maidenpool and visited the columns of smallfolk fleeing the destruction. Men and boys, women, girls and babes still at the breast. They came to me fleeing the wolves and lions but even when they passed through our territory, they were still not spared the injustices that scourge the land. The Golden Company, the most disciplined of the Free Companies, are still sellswords and prone to bouts of disorder." Her anger flared and much was pointed at me as well. "Groups of outriders riding into villages in an orgy of looting, people being robbed of their processions by sellswords on the road to fund 'the queen's war,' and women being persuaded to spread their legs."
"This is war," I said weakly. "It's one of the side effects of it. You can't stop such a thing." I tried but I knew that for every rapist I killed, another would go unnoticed.
"You speak like it's just something that happens. That I should ignore it. I will not. When I was holding court, a woman came forward clearly terrified. She was old and grey and spotted, clutching tightly at the shambles of her dress. She accursed one knight of raping both her maiden daughters who were no older than two-and-ten. One just had her maiden blood and the other was to be flowered. After having his way with them, he cut both their throats. Do you know what Blackheart told me when I questioned why his men had done that? He only shrugged and said, 'Men do things when they are out of my control and the blood runs hot.' Then he asked if I wanted him punished."
"Was he?" I already knew the answer.
"I didn't want him punished. I wanted him dead."
"Who was this knight?"
"Ser Torrance Sole. A knight from an ancient family of loyal men. Loyal to my father. But he was a rapist and deserved to be gelded and hang in the town square. Blackheart had been unwilling, but it was Connington who persuaded him, so it was done. I apologised to the woman for her daughters, gifting her a purse of gold and the man's death. She took the gold but glared at me as she walked out. What else could I do?"
"Little," I admitted. I remembered someone say war is like chess. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Pieces on a board didn't act on their own, they didn't flee or eat nor refuse orders. The larger an army, the harder it was to control every man forming it. "We do our best to limit the damage we cause."
"How can we when Westeros is already a damaged scarred land? There is little food to go around. The Lannisters and Northmen send raids across the countryside, burning fields and butchering herds. Towns are blackened husks when we ride past. Even with the supplies coming from Pentos and the Triachy, there is seldom enough to feed both army and our own people. Refugees trail after the army and beasts trail after them. Lord Connington calls them dogs that deserve to be kicked. But how am I to turn away the needy? Many feel unsafe in Maidenpool that's been sacked multiple times, half the homes burnt and shops plundered. It is only getting harder to feed the army as more lords join. Small lords, petty lords, and occasionally a great lord though his men have yet to arrive. Their soldiers only add to our number and every soldier we feed means one more child goes hungry."
I didn't like the sound of Daenerys allowing a massive column of refugees to trail behind our army. She was softhearted and empathetic and that was what I loved about her. I liked her kindness and how she tried to care for everyone, but it was her weakness as well. She would try to help everyone, and should you try to help everyone, you end up helping no one. We needed to separate the civilians from the military, but no lords would accept them, and Daenerys would refuse unless they were safe. Running a hand through my hair, I remembered how governments dealt with refugees. "You know, Daenerys, I think I have a solution. It may not be the best solution in the world, but we cannot have smallfolk trailing our armies. They will bring with them crime and disease and slow our forces down."
"I will not have them fending for themselves. They have been through enough."
"I know. But we can't have them with us. Connington, despite his harsh words, is right. We can set up camps away from the fighting. Temporary camps to house and feed smallfolk fleeing their homes. It'll be better for everyone that way."
She bit her lip. "We can't ignore them. We can't. It would be wrong of us. Of me."
"We feed them; we shelter them. We can even have soldiers protect them. They'll be taken care of."
"But how do we pay? I know your father's wealthy and your supporters . . . but they're slavers, and I'll not sell my people into slavery."
"I never meant that," I growled at her. "You think I would do something that cruel? We need to pay for the camps should you decide to agree with my plan. We need coin and not only for that. Maybe we can offer an alternative to the lords. It's expected that those who bend the knee provide men. But what if we allow them to instead provide coin." Dany frowned so I explained, "Our army is predominately made up of mercenaries and with the Crownlands having a history of providing few men to their king but being wealthy from the trade of the Narrow Sea, I do think they would support providing coin in place of manpower and that will benefit everybody. A scutage, we could call it. Knights as well. They are obligated to provide military service, but they too should be allowed to buy out their service to us. Not all lords and knights are martial men so a few I imagine will agree. Never mind that the less men they send us, the more are tending the fields and protecting their homes."
Dany pondered for a moment than smiled. "They should call you the wise dragon, Egg. I like it. We need coin . . . but we need men as well. I'll talk to Jon Connington about it."
He'll likely disagree but that's Jon for you. "We need to plan our next move and I believe you'll agree when I say we should take Dragonstone." Daenerys' face lit up. "Your birthplace has been too long in the grasp of the Baratheons and I mean to return it to Targaryen hands. With Lord Stannis investing Storm's End, there is no better opportunity."
"That's why I want it," Dany smiled broadly. She did have a beautiful smile. Then it faltered and was replaced with concern once more. "We have won a great many victories, but I cannot help but wonder . . . what will happen with Lord Stannis and Tywin? We'll need to fight them, be it in the field or on either side of the walls of King's Landing. That's not mentioning the Northmen under Lord Bolton who's now a danger to our west. He can strike at us at any time."
"The Northmen are fighting their war against Lord Tywin and fresh wounds are more painful than scars. So long as Lord Tywin remains away from King's Landing, Cersei and the Tyrion Lannister are weak. They will be attacked by Lord Stannis – and we make sure he attacks – so whoever wins that bout will be too weak to stand against us for when we finally strike. It'll be easy, Dany. You shouldn't fear." I leaned forward and cupped her cheek, running my thumb across her skin, marvelling at its smoothness. "I will not fail you."
Pulling away, Dany smiled awkwardly. "You make it sound so easy."
I chuckled, stared down at my cup, and smiled lazily. "One thing every conqueror should know is that conquest is the easy part. You read the histories of Aegon's conquest or that of Daeron the Young Dragon and you discover destroying things is easy. But when you're looking over the ruins, you discover that repairing what you destroyed and maintaining control is the hard part. You have people who want you dead and those who have joined your side expect rewards, and usually for doing nothing. The newly crowned queen will have to balance punishing rebellious lords and rewarding her own, but not enough to alienate the other half. That's just the lords. The legions are a different beast. Just like a royal court, we have differing factions all desiring payment. Exiles who supported the Blackfyres and expect to be returned their ancestral homes, whether they're inhabited or not. Those already living in them may not be willing to give them up without a fight. Not to mention that as houses expand and fracture, many exiles might find themselves feuding over the same prize. We have Strongs who demand Harrenhal, someone who claims to be a Whent who wants the same castle. We have Mudds who claim to be the rightful rulers of the Riverlands and many others. That's not mentioning the Reds who are your most vocal supporters and will expect you to side with them more oft than not. When the war is done and it's time to divide the riches, you're going to have your work cut out for you, Queen Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen."
From her expression, I might have just slapped her across the face. "You really want to ruin my wine, don't you, Aegon Blackfyre?" But she finished it regardless. "I'm now thinking you making me queen was a calculated manoeuvre on your part. Mayhaps I should have made you king so you can sort everything out. You seem to be aware of much of it."
I chuckled softly beneath my breath. While people got on my case for not making myself king and instead propping Daenerys up at every opportunity, one thing I knew was that being the one on top left me with the greatest target on my back. There was always someone gunning for top position and that person was usually number two. "You might have discovered the true reason I desired to become the consort and not the monarch. There might be something about serving the rightful queen, but the real reason is just so I don't have to deal with all the high lords."
The queen pouted, ignoring my laugh. "I will not tolerate sloth from my subjects, especially from those who'll be sharing my bed." That ended my laughter right there and, despite myself, I felt my cheeks blush. In response she smiled, tilting her head while her eyes flashed playfully. "Nothing to say to that?"
She had me there. Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile, but I knew it must have looked awkward. "N-no. Not really."
"Good. I do not want you to talk—"
She leaned over and pressed a kiss to my lips. It wasn't tender. It was bruising and hard and caught me unexpectedly. I felt my body freeze and she took the liberty to playfully bite my lip, following me as I leaned back into the chair. Upon my mind getting its act together, I pulled Dany onto my lap and felt her smile.
We continued kissing and I didn't know for how long, but when she pulled away, we were both panting and breathless. Daenerys was smiling, her cheeks a pretty pink and her lips were swollen while the silver hair that'd been done so perfectly by her handmaidens was now a tangle from where my hands found pleasure playing with her curls. At some point, Daenerys had untied my gambeson and explored my body which was an unfamiliar sensation but not an unwelcome one.
"I did miss you, Egg," she said softly, as quiet as a whisper that could be snuffed out with a breath. She took my hand to cup her cheek where we both enjoyed the warmth of the other. Those with the blood of the dragon burnt hotter than others, and I wasn't going to say I didn't enjoy it.
"I missed you to." I kissed her nose then, slow and gentle and tender unlike our previous activity. She melted in my arms and clung to me tightly, leaning against my chest as I cradled her lithe form. "More than I ever imagined. My dragon . . . my silver dragon queen . . ."
Weakly, she pried away from my embrace. Her purple eyes were soulful and heart-breaking. "When you were gone, I was thinking of what could have been. What would have happened should Robert's Rebellion have never happened, and I was a princess, sister of the king. We might be enemies, staring at each other from across the Narrow Sea and ready to come to blows."
If I were a Blackfyre in that world, I would focus on Essos. "There might be a world where that did happen. That we were facing off against each other. The final battle of Targaryen and Blackfyre. Though I dread to imagine myself in such a scenario." I cupped her cheek once more and Daenerys pressed herself into my palm, closing her eyes and looking at peace. Once more I kissed her as soft as the petals of a lily.
"So would I." If we were able, we would no doubt remain here forever, enjoying each other's kisses but we both knew that couldn't happen. Climbing off my lap, Dany sighed and ran a hand through her hair in a similar manner I did. Smiling once more but looking sad instead of happy, she said, "I should meet this Tommen Waters. It would be wrong of me to ignore the second most valuable gift you have gifted me today."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone