My Audio Books Chapter 871 Bhh

FanFiction

Just In

Community

Forum

Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper by DeadlyMaelstrom711

TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Drama & Romance, [OC, Sansa S.] Daenerys T., Jon S., Words: 859k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Apr 16, 2018 Updated: Feb 11, 2020 2,418Chapter 175: Heart-to-Heart, a Solemn Vow

—In the Red Keep—

"The King should be in his personal chambers down the hall, my Queen," a servant motioned.

Sansa nodded. "Thank you. Take the rest of the night off if you can; you've been working yourselves ragged."

"You're very kind, Your Grace. Thank you."

Taking her twins by the hand, Sansa strolled through the corridors of the Red Keep as they headed back to check up on Daveth; the Young Stag must have been going through a lot these past several days. But then again, so was she. Most of the castle had been nearing completion – with certain sections still sealed off due to either construction or renovation. The largest structure still under repairs was Maegor's Holdfast—two floors have been completed with only three remaining. She eventually arrived at her husband's new quarters, but as she reached for the knob, she heard faint voices emanating from the other side. Pressing her ear against the door, Sansa listened closely.

"Are you sure that was what you've seen is… entirely accurate, Your Grace? The Faith might find an interpretation of a spiritual world—an existing farplane—beyond this one hard to believe; some might even see it as heresy," a voice asked. It belonged to High Septa Rosyn.

"You asked for my opinion for the missive's inquiry, Your Holiness, and I gave my answer. I've been dead three times and three times I came back. Will it change your reply to the Most Devout?" another voice replied, it belonged to Daveth.

"If the rest of us could agree on the Faith's official stance, I could possibly answer that. These Lord of Light cultists are already a threat to the Gods our ancestors worshipped as do us—their own descendants do. The septons and septas don't seem to know what to make of this… 'divine resurrection' thing those of us who have personally witnessed your rebirth tell."

"What do they say about me?"

"Some suggest it was merely fate's guiding hand, others say it was a miracle… but others declare you, um… an unholy construct; that you have somehow cheated death whereas the less fortunate were not so lucky."

"I don't know if I miracle from any sort of deity—Faith or otherwise—saved me anymore than they do. I simply… just don't remember what happened."

"I… see. I meant no disrespect, child, only it was just… unnatural what we witnessed back at the inn. Yet, as rumors about you grow, the Most Devout might not believe such a humble reply. A difficult situation I did not intend to put you in, and I thank you for your answer. I'll take my leave. Good day, Your Grace."

Sansa backed off when she saw the doorknob twist and turn before the hinges creaked. The High Septa stepped out into the main corridor, noticed Sansa's presence and nodded.

"Your Grace," she acknowledged.

"Your Holiness," Sansa exchanged courtesies.

Once the High Septa left, Sansa and her children entered the room. The Wolf Queen sees her husband siting at his desk, face down, a book in front of him – sighing heavily with a shake of his head. Daveth's face appeared distant; he didn't move from his position—staring at the tome oblivious to the sound of little footsteps coming his way.

"Hi, papa!" the twins greeted.

Daveth lifted his head and turned to face his son Lyonel and his daughter Cassana; both of whom had begun climbing up onto their father's lap. "Ah. My children. I didn't hear you enter," he acknowledged. "Were you two on your best behavior?"

"Yup!" Lyonel squeaked.

"Will we see grammie again? Uncle Wobb? Auntie Aiya?" Cassana asked.

"Someday, pups… once things have settled down." Daveth looks up at his wife. "Hello, Sansa."

"Darling," she greets. "I couldn't help but overhear. What were you discussing with Her Holiness the High Septa?"

"Ah. So, you've heard a little bit of that, didn't you?"

"Only a bit."

"Her Holiness was asking me questions regarding… regarding my recent brush with death. But each answer only leads to more questions."

Somehow, Sansa suspected there was more going on. "Are you all right? You look drained," she pressed hoping for an answer.

Daveth shakes his head. "In a way, I suppose yes. The rest? I'm uncertain."

"How so?" Sansa asked. An honest response, if not a reassuring one.

The Young Stag motioned for the twins to get off of him so he could stand up. They complied and moved to play with their toys while Sansa moved Torrhen to his crib. Once feeling the freedom of movement had returned, Daveth rose from his seat and looked out the window.

"Do you remember Beric Dondarrion, Lord of Blackhaven? And Thoros of Myr?" he questioned.

Sansa nodded. "Of course. They competed in the Hand's Tourney years ago and were later dispatched to hunt down the renegade brigand Ser Gregor Clegane by father once we learned of the Mountain terrorizing villages in the Riverlands. Why do you ask?"

"Before we fought the Night King and his armies at Winterfell, our paths crossed again. They were leading a small group of bandits, the Brotherhood Without Banners. As it turns out… neither I or your cousin were the only ones who were brought back from the dead."

"What do you mean?"

"Lord Dondarrion told me after his first death and rebirth, he had chosen to abandon the Faith of the Seven in favor of converting to this… Lord of Light religion. That drunk Thoros was actually a red priest who preached such nonsense and was responsible for bringing him back each time."

"I don't… I'm not sure I follow."

"Don't worry. It's strange to me as well. To maintain order and keep the balance in check, I investigated… abuses or other abnormal reports. But this? Pfff! This one takes the cake entirely. Since forming the Brotherhood, Lord Dondarrion was slain six times and all six times Thoros was responsible for his return." Daveth looked to see his children were woefully ignoring them. Good. He was keeping voice low so only he and Sansa could hear each other. "He told me once that each time he'd been brought back to life, he lost a piece of himself—memories of his past and his own life. When I thought of how ill I was as a child and again when we negotiated with Dorne to bring them back into the fold… there were parts I simply couldn't remember. Which… is why I've been a little… distant as of late."

Sansa listened. "And you believe the same thing is happening to you?" she suspected.

Daveth shrugged. "I don't know. None of it makes any sense, Sansa. And the thought of not knowing infuriates me. It's a dangerous, almost foreign-like concept, and in addition to what I was told about what happened at the Old Inn…"

The Wolf Queen felt disheartened at being reminded of such an event; during the Battle of King's Landing where she and others rushed to escort Daveth to the Old Inn for emergency medical treatment to stop his bleeding out. When he died, Sansa could hardly bear having been made to see her husband pass again. But with Vaeraleah's enchantment at the cost of her own life, Daveth came back from the dead again. However, in the aftermath, Sansa had noticed he was acting rather odd lately – like he was not himself in some ways.

Daveth looked down at his hands. They were steady. "I can't remember anything, Sansa. Like bits and pieces are slowly being chipped away. I died three times and that red priestess you and Tommen brought over was responsible for my return each time. I was dead, and I didn't even know it."

"Daveth," Sansa spoke up, "sweetheart, if the topic unsettles you this much, we don't have to talk about it."

"No, I feel I must. I don't know what to feel anymore. Not like how I used to." Daveth turned to face her. "I know you had your reasons for wanting me to be here. For you, our sons, our daughter, our family, the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros… all of it. But was the price a bit too high to pay? Was it worth it in the end?"

This isn't like him at all. "I can't foresee the future. I suppose only time will tell if the choice we made was the right one." True; Sansa had seen Daveth's ups and downs before, but none of this scale. In all their years of marriage, she acted as a support role for him. Even if it means getting him back on track again—whether with comforting words or a shouting lecture, Sansa stood her ground.

"But we know the past," he replied. "Those who do not heed history are often condemned to repeat it." Daveth shook his head. "I'm done fighting."

"There are no more wars to fight. No more suffering, no more misery. It's over."

"Yes, it is, but I don't think you're getting what I mean." Daveth turned around and approached one of his stands. Reaching into the chests, the Young Stag unveils the Valyrian steel sword Stormbringer—having been recovered from the beaches after his scuffle with Euron Greyjoy. It was cleaned, refurbished and polished like it was new. He picked up the scabbard and slides the sword into it before walking over to the mantle over the fireplace.

"Papa?" the twins asked now curious.

"Daveth?" Sansa inquired.

Daveth stretched up his right arm, groaning as he placed the sheathed Stormbringer on the mantle. "I've decided a long time ago," he said. "I've been away from home for too long, Sansa. Fought too many battles, too many wars. But how long until the fight is gradually kicked out of you? Now that the War for Westeros and Long Night are over… I'm laying my sword down and I will not fight again. I've decided to spend the rest of my days where I'm supposed to be. Here. With you, and our family."

Sansa was somewhat surprised; this was a monumental sacrifice Daveth was making. But at the same time, she was elated to hear that her husband will be spending more time with her and their children. Lyonel and Cassana will be seeing more of their father frequently on a daily basis. Aside from the regular Small Council meetings and occasional greeting of foreign dignitaries, Sansa will no doubt play a more active role in aiding her husband in governing the Seven Kingdoms.

"Could you… help me build a new world? Not one lasting five, ten seasons… but for a thousand years. Please?" Daveth asks.

Sansa smiled, embraced her husband and kisses the man she loves. A perfect kiss, an expression of pure love and comfort. Daveth slid one of his hands onto her waist and pulled her closer to him, his hand behind Sansa's head, her hand on his cheek.

"Eew!" Lyonel and Cassana reacted with disgust.

Pulling away, both parents looked at their twins.

"Ugh! Did you two have to ruin the mood?" Daveth rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"Haha! Come now, love, they're just children," Sansa chuckled. She turned to see the sun was beginning to set. "But it's getting late. We should be getting them tucked in soon."

"Yes, I suppose we should."

"Awww! Do we have to?" the twins complained.

Daveth was getting serious. "Yes, pups. You do."

"Listen to your father, sweetlings," Sansa told them more gently.

"Awww…"

—At the White Sword Tower—

Lucius sat in his seat staring at the book in front of him. The Lord Commander's chambers differed from the barracks he was normally acquainted to; this was fancier. More room to stretch, office space, a desk… but more importantly, he had another duty to fulfill—filling in the pages of The Book of Brothers. It is the responsibility of the current Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to update the entries of the book.

Prince Aemon the Dragonknight…

Called the Dragonknight after his noble heritage. Second son to

Viserys II Targaryen and brother to King Aegon IV and Queen

Naerys Targaryen. Raised to the Kingsguard in his 17th year and after

rose to Lord Commander. Wielded the Valyrian blade Dark Sister, previously

the sword of Visenya Targaryen, sister and wife to Aegon I.

Rescued from a snakepit by his cousin Baelor I the Blessed, whom

the vipers refused to bite. Fought Cregan Stark, barely defeating

him. Won the tourney of Riverrun in his 21st year, unseating Ser

Terrence of Toyne in the final joust. (…)

Ser Duncan the Tall…

Born in Flea Bottom. Family name unknown. Squire to Ser Arlan

of Pennytree who knighted him in his 16th year. Defended a

Dornish woman from Prince Aerion Targaryen at the tourney

at Ashford and was judged in a trial of seven.

Bested Baelor Breakspear with the aid of Aerion Targaryen, who

was mentally (…) Took Prince Aegon Targaryen to squire. But

he remained a hedge knight. Served Eustace Osgrey (…) his

defense against the Red Widow of Coldmoat. Defeated Ser Lucas

Longinch in single combat (…) suffering grievous wounds.

Uncovered a (…) of Lords to put Daemon II Blackfyre on the (…)

during the Blackfyre Rebellion, and defended Prince Aegon from

(…)

Raised to Lord Commander of the Kingsguard by King Aegon V,

his former squire. Led the honor guard that escorted Maester

Aemon, formerly of House Targaryen and King Aegon V's brother,

to the Wall. Defeated all challengers at the tourney of Pennytree,

which Aegon V held in his honor and named a commoner as the

Queen of Love and Beauty. Rescued the daughter of Lord Damon

Lannister from Pyke, after her ship was taken by Greyjoy raiders.

Perished in the mysterious fire of Summerhall with King Aegon V

and his son Prince Duncan.

Ser Lucius Blackmyre…

Hailed from the Riverlands. Family unknown. Profession included

farming and blacksmithing. Rescued his liege lord Hoster Tully of

Riverrun from bandits. Knighted in his 20th year and awarded the

castle of High Heart. Heeded the call to arms in the War of the

Ninepenny Kings. Keen talent for strategy and knowledge of warfare

were recognized by Lord Ormund Baratheon, Hand of the King,

who recruited him as a military advisor. Tactics proved vital in

initiating a preemptive strike which led to House Targaryen's great

victories against Maelys the Monstrous, last of the Blackfire Pretenders.

Named to the Kingsguard with Barristan Selmy by King Aegon V

Targaryen in his 23rd year. Given the name the 'Bull' for his

handmade bull's head helmet. Won the tourney of Horn Hill in his

25th year, unseating Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of

the Kingsguard in the joust. Intervened in a dispute between Ser

Tywin Lannister and Lord Roger Reyne during (…).

Dispatched by King Aerys II Targaryen to put down Robert Baratheon's

rebellion, but was defeated at the Battle of the Trident while fighting

beside Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, and his sworn

brothers Barristan Selmy, Jonothor Darry and Lewyn Martell.

Pardoned by King Robert I Baratheon. Served in the honor guard

that brought Lady Cersei Lannister to King's Landing to wed King

Robert. Fought in Balon Greyjoy's rebellion. Assigned as personal

bodyguard to Crown Prince Daveth Baratheon. (…)

Served in the escort that brought Queen Consort Sansa of House

Stark to White Harbor to investigate suspicious activity implicating

her sister Arya. Later discovered it was a ruse concocted by Ramsay

Snow, the Bastard of House Bolton. Fought with the Young Wolf

Robb Stark and White Wolf Jon Snow to defeat the insurgent Bolton

Uprising. Returned with the Queen safely to King's Landing. (…)

Guarded the royal family during the War for Westeros. Raised to

Lord Commander of the Kingsguard by King Daveth I in his 69th

year.

Now the more Ser Lucius read each entry on each paragraph, the more reminiscent he felt. Flipping through the older ones, the Old Bull recognized the names of the famed Kingsguard of his time… before arriving to those at the present. Names he was quite familiar with, and those he remembered all too well from his younger days when he served under Kings Aegon V and Aerys II all of whom were now long gone.

"My friends," Lucius sighed. The earlier part of his career had been entered by the former Lord Commander Gerold Hightower in a big forceful hand, hence his sometimes too big, often crooked handwriting, whereas Barristan's were smaller and more elegant.

Ser Gerold Hightower…

(…) while defending the honor and property of the Dornish princess,

Elia Martell. Handed command to Ser Arthur Dayne due to sustained

injuries the same year. Broke three lances against Oswell Whent

at the tourney at Harrenhal and fought with great distinction in the

melee.

Dispatched by King Aerys II to locate the Crown Prince Rhaegar

Targaryen in the wake of Robert Baratheon's rebellion. Died in the

Red Mountains of Dorne alongside his sworn brother Ser Arthur

Dayne after refusing to bend the knee to the new King Robert I

Baratheon.

All were defeated by a small force led by Lord Eddard Stark of

Winterfell.

Ser Arthur Dayne…

Second son of Lord Beric Dayne, born at Starfall. Named 'Sword

of the Morning' and wielder of the great white blade 'Dawn' forged

from a fallen star. Won many tourneys and broke twelve lances

against Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, at the Tourney

of Storm's End. Unseated all challengers at tourney of Brightwater

Keep, and crowned Lady Alys Reyne as Queen of Love and Beauty.

Unmasked the Mystery Knight of (…) bridge as Ser Harlan Grandison

of the Kingsguard.

Appointed to the Kingsguard by King Aerys II Targaryen in his 20th

year. Hunted and killed the Bandit Lords of the Marches, freeing

Lady and Lord Dondarrion from the Diamond Cave. Broke the siege

of White Harbor by the Sea Kings and saved Lord Rickard Stark

from drowning. Defended the honor of Lady (…) against the advances

of Lord Steffon Baratheon, but spared him on account of drunkenness.

In the Year of the False Spring, at the Great Tourney of Harrenhal,

he stood against all but the Crown Prince once more.

Beloved by the people, he acted as their voice in the reign of Aerys

II, gathering their concerns and bringing them before the King.

Brought in laws for the royal forces to repay the smallfolk for their

goods and turned the tide of support against the criminal scourge

of the Kingswood Brotherhood. Led the Kingsguard to victory and

destroyed the Brotherhood by killing the Smiling Knight in single

combat. He allowed said Knight to call for a second blade after the

first one was sheared in two, then brought death upon him by

delivering the Knight's greatest wish – the Dawn blade.

Knighted Ser Jaime Lannister on the field of battle; in his 15th year.

Killed at the conclusion of Robert Baratheon's rebellion, alongside

his sworn brothers in the Red Mountains of Dorne, presumably by

Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.

Ser Barristan Selmy…

Firstborn son of Ser Lyonel Selmy of Harvest Hall. Squire to Ser

Manfred Swann. Named 'the Bold' at age 10 in his fifteenth tourney

at Blackhaven, where he was defeated and unmasked by Duncan

Targaryen, Prince of Dragonflies and heir to the Iron Throne. Knighted

in his 17th year by King Aegon V Targaryen after performing feats

of prowess as a mystery knight in the Winter Tourney at King's

Landing, defeating Prince Duncan and Ser Duncan the Tall, Lord

Commander. Slew Maelys the Monstrous, last of the Blackfire

Pretenders, in single combat during the War of the Ninepenny Kings.

Defeated Lormelle Long Lance and Cedric Storm, the Bastard of

Bronzegate. Named to the Kingsguard in his 23rd year by Lord

Commander Gerold Hightower alongside Ser Lucius Blackmyre. (…)

Defended the passage against all challengers in the tourney of the

Silver Bridge. Victor in the melee at Maiden Pool. Brought King Aerys

II Targaryen to safety during the Defiance of Duskendale, despite

an arrow wound in the chest. Avenged the murder of his sworn

brother, Ser Gwayne Gaunt. Rescued Lady Jeyne Swann and her

septa from the Kingswood Brotherhood, defeating Simon Toyne

and the Smiling Knight, and slaying the former. In the Oldtown

tourney, defeated and unmasked the mystery knight Blackshield,

revealing him as the Bastard of Uplands. Sole champion of Lord

Steffon's tourney at Storm's End, whereat he unhorsed Lord Robert

Baratheon, Prince Oberyn Martell, Lord Leyton Hightower, Lord Jon

Connington, Lord Jason Mallister and Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.

Wounded by arrow, spear, and sword at the Battle of the Trident

while fighting beside his sworn brothers and Rhaegar, Prince of

Dragonstone. Pardoned and named Lord Commander of the

Kingsguard by King Robert I Baratheon. Served in the honor guard

that brought Lady Cersei Lannister to King's Landing to wed King

Robert.

Led the attack on Old Wyk during Balon Greyjoy's first rebellion.

Rescued Crown Prince Daveth Baratheon from ironborn captivity.

Took him to squire two years later. Champion of the tourney at King's

Landing in his 57th year.

Knighted Prince Daveth on his 16th nameday.

After the death of King Robert I served under King Daveth I, his

former squire. Often acted as close confidant and the voice of reason

in (…)

He noticed further down that the page remained unfinished, as the Battle of Winterfell was the last time they would ever see each other. "Let me see if I can fix that. You deserved that much, old friend," the Old Bull grumbled. Dipping his quill in ink, Lucius began writing to finish the rest of Barristan's story.

…Appointed as a General in the newly created Royal Army during

the Targaryen invasion of Westeros, commanding the division

Stalwart Defenders. Led the men and women of his forces north to

join the King at Winterfell. Faced the Army of the Dead with the allied

forces and held the line against all odds.

Died protecting his King.

Ser Lucius flipped another page until he reached a familiar name: Ser Jaime Lannister. Now noticeably his page was by far the shortest, but what the Old Bull saw as he looked it over was rather surprising.

Ser Jaime Lannister…

Firstborn son of Lord Tywin and Lady Johanna Lannister, born at

Casterly Rock. Squired for Barristan Selmy against the Kingswood

Brotherhood. Knighted and named to the Kingsguard in his 15th

year for valor in the field by King Aerys II Targaryen. At the Sack

of King's Landing murdered his King, Aerys II, at the foot of the

Iron Throne. Thereafter known as the 'Kingslayer'. Pardoned for

his crime by King Robert I Baratheon. Served in the honor guard

that brought his sister Lady Cersei Lannister to King's Landing to

wed King Robert I. Champion in the tourney held on the occasion

of their wedding. Defeated by his nephew Crown Prince Daveth

Baratheon in the melee in the latter's 16th year.

After the death of King Robert I served under King Daveth I.

Defeated at the siege of Highgarden by Lord Randyll Tarly and

captured in the field during the Stag Sedition. Ransomed and

released by Lord Mace Tyrell in exchange for his heir Ser Loras

Tyrell upon the rebels' unconditional surrender. Returned safely

to King's Landing.

Vindicated upon confession he murdered King Aerys II to prevent

the infamous wildfire plot from burning the capital city of King's

Landing to the ground, thereby saving the lives of half a million

people. Thereafter known as the 'Atoner'.

Fought to suppress Balon Greyjoy's second rebellion, playing a

key role in carrying out a greater strategy to end the war.

Rescued his King from an assassination attempt in Dorne without

loss of life. Foiled an attempt by the Sparrows to abduct Princess

Myrcella Baratheon and Prince Tommen Baratheon.

Appointed as a General in the newly created Royal Army during

the Targaryen invasion of Westeros, commanding the division

Lion's Pride. Outwitted a large Unsullied-Dothraki host at the

Battle of the Golden Tooth, defeating the much larger force. Fought

at the Battle of the Reach bravely, narrowly escaping death by

dragonfire.

With a select carefully precise strokes of his quill, Ser Lucius filled in the remaining section of Jaime's page.

…Led the men and women of Lion's Pride north to join the King at

Winterfell. Faced the Army of the Dead and defended the castle

against all odds until the defeat of the Night King.

Assumed command of the Lannister Army following the death

of his uncle Ser Kevan and rode south in attempt to save the

capital from destruction. Saved King Daveth I from the ironborn

Euron and Yara Greyjoy in the nick of time. Rescued Queen

Consort Sansa of House Stark, her children and countless others

from Lord Jon Connington's wildfire plot.

Ser Brienne of Tarth…

Daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth, born on the isle of Tarth. (…)

Initially sided with Renly Baratheon during the Stag Sedition, but

was accused of his murder. Pardoned by King Daveth I Baratheon

and named to the Kingsguard in her 20th year, becoming one of

two women in history to join the order alongside Ariyana Dayne.

(…) Assigned as the personal bodyguard to Queen Consort Sansa

Stark. Named the 'Maid of Tarth' or 'Brienne the Beauty' due to

her appearance. Overcame prejudice and suspicion among her

peers and was warmly accepted with open arms by the royal family

as a trustworthy confidant.

Served in the escort that brought Queen Consort Sansa of House

Stark to White Harbor to investigate suspicious activity implicating

her sister Arya. Later discovered it was a ruse concocted by Ramsay

Snow, the Bastard of House Bolton. Fought with the Young Wolf

Robb Stark and White Wolf Jon Snow to defeat the insurgent Bolton

Uprising. Returned with the Queen safely to King's Landing. (…)

Rode north to join the King at Winterfell. Knighted by Ser Jaime

in her 25th year, becoming the first woman of the Seven Kingdoms

to become a knight. Faced the Army of the Dead and defended

the castle against all odds until the defeat of the Night King.

Returned south to save the capital from destruction. Saved the

Queen, her children and countless others from Lord Jon Connington's

wildfire plot.

Lucius sighed so much needing to be kept up to date. Once filing in for Ariyana, Olyvar, Podrick and Jullon, he sat back in his chair. Looking back on his life, Lucius had lived a long interesting life, full of adventures and setbacks. But for good or ill, the Old Bull was content with the path he had chosen to live despite his advanced age. Then he collects himself, his duty done for the night. It was getting late. Gripping the cover of The Book of Brothers, Lucius flips the cover closed and turned to blow a lit candle out, darkening the room as the moon began to rise.

Tomorrow would be the start of a new day. Come what may, a new day would start anew.

Groaning as he pushed himself up, Ser Lucius escorted himself to the Lord Commander's bed. Pulling back the covers, he climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over him. Adjusting to the comfort, the Old Bull spent the next few minutes glancing at the ceiling.

"Ugh! Ngh! These damned knees! Cursed old age," he complained. "But… wait for me, old friends. My time… is not done yet."

Closing his eyes, Lucius fell asleep.

Chapter End

Author's Note: A little heart-to-heart discussion about the topic of death, resurrection and plans to move forward, Daveth has chosen to put aside his warrior's sword and turn his focus more on his primary duties as King of the Seven Kingdoms, husband to Sansa and father to their children. In the meantime, Lucius fills in the pages of The Book of Brothers detailing the accomplishments of each knight of the Kingsguard now that he's Lord Commander. And yes, some I skipped over because it would've taken too long – but I'll update it at some point if people want to know more. Updates take 30 minutes to go into effect. Until then, we're about a few more chapters until we're done with the series. Stay tuned for more updates!

mpowers045: How much in few exactly? Because I was thinking of a timeskip type of ending with Daveth and Sansa growing old while their children grew up and also have their own families.

Fukage653: I read from the beginning and i am sad a great story come to an end. I hope that you more inspiration to write another great story, if not im glad i have such a great story.

Lex-in-Affex: I thought you were gonna have Daveth kill himself. Oh thank god he's just retiring the warrior side of him.

Bvr: Great chapter on trials and tribulations of the oathkeeper, so can you please put up the next chapter to the story now please

Guest #1: I am sad this story is coming to a end

C.E.W: Glad to see Daveth and Sansa together more than ever, now that Daveth has laid down his sword and focused more on ruling and being with his family. Given Daveth's long service to the realm, I'd say he has earned it, he is a far better king than Robert Baratheon ever was, the most respected king since Jaehaerys the Conciliator. Who knows, Daveth the Great might be even a greater king than Jaehaerys given that peace time is likely to last longer.

Ser Lucius Blackmyre has served the realm for decades, faithfully and with honor. Guess he knows his life is coming to end, his old age is getting to him, he has months, a year maybe two before his knees give out, or his life. All of his old friends are gone, him and Ser Jaime are all that's left of Aerys Targaryen's Kingsguard. But hey it gives Ser Jaime time to prepare, given the truth of the Mad King's wildfire plot, and his faithful service to Daveth, I'd say Ser Jaime has earned to one day succeed Ser Lucius as Lord-Commander of the Kingsguard.

RHatch89: Awesome job as always :)

RubyDragon123: I've been following this story for a long time and I'm both excited and a little sad to see it so close to the end

Bio RL: Thanks for the chapter

« First « Prev Ch 175 of 180 Next »

Review

Jump:Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Chapter 55Chapter 56Chapter 57Chapter 58Chapter 59Chapter 60Chapter 61Chapter 62Chapter 63Chapter 64Chapter 65Chapter 66Chapter 67Chapter 68Chapter 69Chapter 70Chapter 71Chapter 72Chapter 73Chapter 74Chapter 75Chapter 76Chapter 77Chapter 78Chapter 79Chapter 80Chapter 81Chapter 82Chapter 83Chapter 84Chapter 85Chapter 86Chapter 87Chapter 88Chapter 89Chapter 90Chapter 91Chapter 92Chapter 93Chapter 94Chapter 95Chapter 96Chapter 97Chapter 98Chapter 99Chapter 100Chapter 101Chapter 102Chapter 103Chapter 104Chapter 105Chapter 106Chapter 107Chapter 108Chapter 109Chapter 110Chapter 111Chapter 112Chapter 113Chapter 114Chapter 115Chapter 116Chapter 117Chapter 118Chapter 119Chapter 120Chapter 121Chapter 122Chapter 123Chapter 124Chapter 125Chapter 126Chapter 127Chapter 128Chapter 129Chapter 130Chapter 131Chapter 132Chapter 133Chapter 134Chapter 135Chapter 136Chapter 137Chapter 138Chapter 139Chapter 140Chapter 141Chapter 142Chapter 143Chapter 144Chapter 145Chapter 146Chapter 147Chapter 148Chapter 149Chapter 150Chapter 151Chapter 152Chapter 153Chapter 154Chapter 155Chapter 156Chapter 157Chapter 158Chapter 159Chapter 160Chapter 161Chapter 162Chapter 163Chapter 164Chapter 165Chapter 166Chapter 167Chapter 168Chapter 169Chapter 170Chapter 171Chapter 172Chapter 173Chapter 174Chapter 175Chapter 176Chapter 177Chapter 178Chapter 179Chapter 180

Share: Email . Facebook . Twitter

Story: Follow FavoriteAuthor: Follow FavoriteContrast: Dark . Light

Font: Small . Medium . Large . XL

FanFiction

Just In

Community

Forum

Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper by DeadlyMaelstrom711

—In the Small Council chamber—

(Six months after the Battle of King's Landing…)

Much of the Red Keep had been repaired and functional with many rooms and sections reopened for business. Along the colonnade past the map room, Tyrion was the first to arrive in the refurbished Small Council chamber. The room had been redesigned with new concrete, new marble with shades of grey and blue, two separate banners hanging from the walls showing both Baratheon and Stark, and the finishing touches included vines wrapped around the marble columns; such décor was previously used during King Robert's rule but were previously discarded in favor of stag antlers. Now that peace loomed over the Seven Kingdoms, it was back to discuss state of affairs.

"Hard to believe it's been six months already," Tyrion sighed. He looks out at the map on the floor before turning to step into the chamber. He looks at the Hand emblem on the chair at the front of the table next to the chair with the Iron Throne emblem stitched onto it before looking down at the Hand of the King's badge pinned to his chest. "Hah, suppose it's time to begin today's session."

But before he could, Tyrion noticed some of the castle designers had rearranged other chairs surrounding the table in different directions of each other. There were several more chairs than there normally was as opposed to the seven non-hereditary positions (possibly to reflect the traditions of the Faith of the Seven) – as part of Tyrion's agreement to lessen the burden on his nephew and created several more offices of his own. After all, this was a new beginning for Westeros. Still, seeing them disorganized bothered him greatly.

"Ugh, must I have to do everything? Again?" he groaned.

Sitting up, he decides to do some rearranging. Correction, he meant. Tyrion does not take long since he prefers not to be theatrical about it like the time he dragged chairs around to annoy Cersei years ago. He just wants everything to be right, all set up in an orderly fashion. His focus was temporarily disrupted by a familiar sound.

"Still my lion fusses about with the furniture," Shae arrives with a small bundle in her arms. Since being named Lady of Harrenhal and adopting the name Shae Sadelyn for herself, the Lorathi prostitute-turned-maid was given some legitimacy to rise through the ranks of nobility. Gone was the pink halter high-slit gown with the interlocking apricot belt buckle; now Shae's dress consisted of an emerald green stain dress with crimson sleeves, indicating her ties to House Lannister if not already evidenced with a golden lion pendant around her neck. "Leave it for the servants to handle. You have much on your mind already."

"Ah, my wife arrives. And with our son too. How fares little Tygett?" Tyrion asks.

Shae leans down to show him their newborn son and heir; Tygett of House Lannister, son of Lord Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock and Lady Shae Sadelyn of Harrenhal, their first child and heir to his father's lands and titles. When Tyrion first learned of Shae's pregnancy, the Imp was delighted to start a family of his own but overall was worried his heir would turn out the same way he did: misshapen. However, when Tygett was born, Tyrion glanced at the tiny newborn and was relieved to see all was well. No deformity, just a normal looking baby with arms and legs the same size with no enlarged head. Tyrion even joked that their son Tygett would be much taller than him in no time – a joke Shae responded by punching him in the eye.

"He's sleeping," Shae answered. She grinned that wicked grin Tyrion like so well. "But when he wakes up, oooh our little cub is a rather fussy one. Much like his father was… or rather, is."

"Oh come on, you wound me! I don't make that much of a mess."

"Suuure you don't. So, what's on today's agenda, my lord?"

"Ah, you know. Things. Much of King's Landing is up and running again, but the hardest ones that were hit during the war still need to be furnished. These projects will no doubt take at least somewhere between two to five years to complete."

"That big?"

"That big."

Hearing approaching footsteps, Tyrion sits down again in the Hand chair with Shae next to him with a sleeping Tygett in her arms.

Within moments, the rest of the Small Council arrives for today's meeting: Samwell, the new Grand Maester of the Seven Kingdoms; Bronn, Lord of Summerhall and the Council's first Master of Commerce; Trystane Martell, the Master of Laws and Lord Justicar; Paxter Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor and the new Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer; Davos Seaworth, now risen to rank of Lord of the Rainwood and the new Master of Ships and Lord Admiral; Bodrin, one of Daveth's best spies and the new Master of Whisperers; and Lucius Blackmyre, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

Tyrion nods at them which they reciprocate as they head to their seats. Davos sits next to Tyrion's left, next to Bodrin and Trystane and Samwell. Across from Davos, Paxter sits next to Bronn and Lucius.

Samwell—having given up his family name Tarly—was donned a large grey custom made Maester's robe with several chains around his neck linking one to each other. Having forged each chain of office, they each depicted ravenry (black iron), astronomy (bronze), history (copper), electrum (astrology), gold (money and accounting), iron (warcraft), lead (poison), pale steel (smithing), silver (medicine and healing), steel (construction) and Valyrian steel (magic) respectively. Since the spat between the Citadel and the crown, the Order of Maesters conceded to the request for Samwell being named as Pycelle's replacement – albeit by a slim margin. In his arms, he carries two large books and drops one of them in front of the Hand of the King.

Tyrion looks at the book in front of him. Embossed on its leather cover, the Imp studied it closer before doing a double take. "What's this?" he asks.

"A Song of Ice and Fire," Samwell answers. "Archmaester Ebrose's history of the wars following the death of King Robert I. I… helped him with the title."

"Why? What did he call it previously?"

"It was, uh… formerly titled A Chronicle of the Wars Following the Death of King Robert I. Felt the title didn't do it justice so I asked him to write something more… poetic?"

"Poetic. Huh," Tyrion flipped the book open and grins ruefully. "I suppose I come in for some heavy criticism."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Tyrion is surprised and gratified. "He's kind to me? Well. I never would have guessed." He clocks Samwell's nervous expression and is confused. "He's not kind then?"

"He…" Samwell isn't sure how to put it.

"He what? What does he say about me?"

"Didn't say much. But you are in this one," Samwell places the other book next to A Song of Ice and Fire with an audible thud. Gods, this one was just as heavy as the first one!

"And what's this one?" Tyrion looks at it.

"The Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper," he answers. "It mainly centers around the life, accomplishes and struggles of King Daveth I, but it does mention you in quite explicit detail. The Master of Whisperers, Lord Bodrin, helped provide the necessary information to the Citadel so that way Archmaester Ebrose got everything according to exact detail."

Tyrion pages through both books to verify his mentioning therein. He was only named once or twice in A Song of Ice and Fire, but he did see his name in The Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper many times. Well, at least there was someone that took the opportunity to write his name in the historical chronicles.

"Well, there's some consolation in that," Tyrion spoke. Hearing the approach of soft footsteps, he knew who was coming and closes both books.

Sansa enters with Brienne, Podrick and Ariyana at her side. The Wolf Queen entered the Small Council chamber just as regally as she was composed; her auburn hair was worn completely down, but one of the elements on her elegant royal gown that stood out was it had beautiful red beaded leaves falling from growing weirwood branches at its pattern falling from one sleeve forming what looks like a metal breastplate over the actual gown itself. There is a feathered and embroidered direwolf pelt on the edge of its feathers and fish scales across her left shoulder as a cloak. One accessory is her needle necklace pinned to her leather armor top. From afar, the pattern of Sansa's dress looked quilted, but a closer look reveals her true Northern colors—emphasizing her willingness to fight and defend herself, even if it's not in the same direct way others would.

In her arms, Sansa carried her fourth child: Prince Rickard of House Baratheon, named after her paternal grandfather Lord Rickard Stark. She had given birth to her third son last month and was well enough to walk around and always carried the one-month-old Rickard with her. Like a mother wolf, her pups were never out of her sights and she was always fiercely protective of them.

Everyone stands as Sansa nears the table and surveys them all.

"Your Grace," Tyrion acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Bodrin acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Bronn acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Paxter acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Samwell acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Trystane acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Davos acknowledges.

"Your Grace," Lucius acknowledges.

"My lords," Sansa replies. "What is the current state of the renovations to the Street of Sisters district?"

"We've had some sponsors express interest in opening several new shops and homes expanding to the Street of Silk," Tyrion said. "According to the Master of Coin, we estimate an increase in not only funding but additional revenue of 12 million Gold Dragons which we can use to provide further relief to areas still affected by the war."

"Commander Duran has mentioned in his report that the City Watch has seen an increase in volunteers, excavating the wreckage done on the Street of Steel," Trystane said.

"Good. These people have been through enough. See to it the funds we generate are donated to widows and orphans." Sansa turned to Bronn. "And what of the Master of Commerce? How fares our recent trade talks with the Free Cities?"

"Pretty much as the same goes," Bronn rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you gotta grab 'em by the balls and twist 'em hard enough to listen. Once that's done, then they'll give you what you want."

"Language!" Sansa reprimanded refers to Prince Rickard's presence. With the look in her eyes and use of words, even the Wolf Queen could make even the stubborn, mightiest tremble. Calming down, she redirected her gaze. "And what of Rhaegal? Has there been any word?" she asks.

"My little birds reported he was last seen flying east towards Volantis—" Bodrin tried to speak.

Bronn interrupted. "The farther away, the better. I think we've had enough dragons burning stuff down in our lifetime."

"Here, here," Lucius echoed. "Still, I think if ignored the dragon could one day come back. Even if it's a time of peace, we must be prepared at all times."

Sansa nodded. "I'll send a raven to my brothers at Winterfell. Perhaps Bran might know more—"

"*Waaah! Waah!*" wailed baby Rickard.

Sansa hushed her baby and rocked him, humming a quiet lullaby so he could settle down. Three pregnancies and four children were a lot for the Wolf Queen to deal with; who knows, maybe Rickard might have possibly inherited the 'wolf's blood' that's been in her family for generations? No one knows. It was too soon to tell. But as soon as Rickard started, Tygett was woken up too.

"Shhh, shhh. Easy now," Sansa hushed.

"Easy, little one," Shae repeated.

The Wolf Queen looked slightly embarrassed. It's probably around his feeding time again. Gods be good, you are a fussy little boy aren't you, Rickard? "Ah… hehe, I apologize for the interruption, my lords." She stands. "I'll go inform the King of this Council's latest report. Please do carry on with the rest."

Tyrion nodded. He now understood how exhausting raising children can be. "As you wish, Your Grace," he said. Clearing his throat, Tyrion motions for all in attendance to rise. "We serve at the pleasure of our King, Daveth the Great, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he reign."

With a sloppy lack of unison, the group says:

"Long may he reign," Bodrin acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Bronn acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Paxter acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Samwell acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Trystane acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Davos acknowledges.

"Long may he reign," Lucius acknowledges.

Sansa cringes. "Long may he reign," she groaned.

Tyrion smiles apologetically. "That will improve," he reassures her.

"I'm sure it will. Good day, my lords."

Sansa turns to leave with Brienne, Ariyana and Podrick in tow behind her. Shae took this opportunity to leave with Tygett as well so she could quiet him down. Once the Queen leaves, everyone sits back down as these smart, experienced people plan a better future.

"Ser Bronn of the Blackwater," Tyrion looks at him. "Lord of Summerhall, owner of the successful Fishport's Trident Vineyard and Master of Commerce – would you say the crown's debt to you has been paid?"

Bronn looked rather pleased with himself. Having killed the right people and made the right deals and acquire newfound wealth from his late wife's business, his new attire consisted of a high-quality olive-green leather doublet and well-fitted jerkin with clasps. "In full, my Lord Hand," he says proudly.

"Good. Time to start incurring a new one." Tyrion turns to Paxter. "Lord Redwyne, we have hungry people to feed. Can we expect some assistance from the Reach in this regard?"

"I believe we can. I'm sure Princess Margaery will no doubt donate a rather generous amount of crops to the capital. The Arbor will see them ferried over as soon as possible," he said.

"Lord Davos, we have an armada to build and ports upgrading."

"We have," the Onion Knight replied. "These projects will begin at once as soon as the Master of Coin provides funding and the Master of Commerce and Lord of Lofty Titles provides us the goods."

"The Master of Commerce looks forward to helping the Master of Ships, but he has to ensure we're not wasting any valuable resources or soon there won't be no more resources," Bronn suggests.

"'Any more'," Davos corrects.

"You Master of Grammar now, too?"

Stannis would have done the same thing. Daveth… he might've been annoyed. Tyrion clears his throat. "Grand Maester," he looks at Samwell, "it is my theory, based on my years of work on the Casterly Rock sewers, that clean water leads to a healthier population."

Samwell nods and begins to expound. "Based on Septon Barth's work during the reign of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator, yes. The construction of drains, sewers, sinking wells, and fountains carried the city's waste from the city and provided the necessary clean drinking water. I've taken the liberty to do some further research with Archmaester Ebrose on this subject and it turns out—"

"The strong live and the weak don't," Bronn scoffs.

"Find the best builders and set them to the task," Tyrion ignores him. "Bodrin, what other reports have your little birds made?"

"Interesting wrinkle: word of Daenerys Targaryen's downfall by King Daveth spread not just to Meereen, but throughout the city-states along the Bay of Dragons," he reported. "Not long after their leaders heard of the Dragon Queen's death, Meereen's regent… no, Mereen's former regent, Daario Naharis, tried mobilizing an army for an invasion. But unfortunately, the power vacuum created a window of opportunity. Our response was as immediate as it was swift. So I arranged for… an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"He was quickly assassinated. As for the Unsullied exiled on Naath, they no longer have the means necessary to oppose or resist us. I think they understand the position they're in quite clearly. Essos has now been made aware of what happens if any who dare tries to invade us. No doubt the world will follow suit in not wanting to invoke the Oathkeeper's fury."

"Good. We could all use some peace and quiet for a few years. That'll give us time to rebuild."

"Oh, speaking of rebuilding," Bronn chimed in, "all the best brothels burned down. We could rebuild those to generate more coin."

Lucius gives him a disapproving look.

"Uh… the Archmaester is less than enthusiastic about the salutary effects of brothels," Samwell discouraged.

"I imagine he isn't using 'em properly."

"If we're going to rebuild anything," the Old Bull voiced his opinion, "then it should start with our homes, our fleets, and defenses. These things should take priority over brothels, lad. You of all people should know this."

"I think that's a very presumptuous statement, old man!"

Tyrion shook his head. Giving a small smile, it reminded him of a joke. "You know, I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel… The Madame asked, 'what can we do for you?' I said, 'I need a woman to lay with, for mine has left me.' The Madame asked 'You poor thing; whatever for? And why do you have a jackass and a honeycomb?' 'Well,' I answered, 'my woman stumbled upon a sorcerer, and he granted her 3 wishes. The first was to have the nicest ass in the land, so he gave her this jackass. Her second wish was for a 'house fit for a queen', so he gave her this beehive.' The Madame asked, 'And what was the third wish?' 'For her third wish, my woman asked the sorcerer to make my cock hang past down my knee.' 'Well, that one's not so bad!' the Madame exclaimed. ''Not so bad!?'', I replied, 'I used to be 6 foot 3!'"

—Outside—

Folding his arms, Daveth stood in the courtyard with his three children, plus Myrcella and Tommen. Watching them all. 4-year-olds Lyonel and Cassana were playing with each other while Myrcella held 1-year-old Torrhen's little hands in hers as she helped him walk after the child stumbled whilst still holding onto little Nymerios.

"That's it. Good boy, Torrhen! One step at a time. Good boy," Myrcella cheered him on.

Torrhen responded with a giggle.

The Young Stag folded his arms. This was it now. True to his word, he was spending more time with his family and had plenty of time on his hands. The burdens on his shoulders had been lessened with the Small Council taking on more responsibilities; competent, abled bodies blessed with talent keeping the realm afloat as it rebuilds instead of power-hungry, sycophants blindly following orders to one individual alone. Not that way, not ever again. Now, history would propel them forward—not backward. The process wasn't easy, the road to get here was long and hard.

But in the end… it was worth it.

He glanced down at the pendant in his hand; his fingers still brushed against the old medallion he held since his tenth nameday. Blue with a white falcon on a crescent moon. Daveth gave a small smile in reminisce.

"Today is the dawn of a new age. Isn't that right, my boy?" a voice echoed.

Daveth flinched and spun around.

"You've done well, child. You've conquered the darkness within you and usher in the dawn," said another.

Again, he turned to find where it was coming from. Seven hells, he swore he was losing his mind. It took a moment, but he realized those to voices came from Barristan Selmy and Jon Arryn; ghosts from his past, reminding the Young Stag he was not alone. That his friends and family long gone were still watching over him from the afterlife.

Daveth lowered his head, shaking it before letting out a quiet chuckle. Yes, it is, Ser Barristan. Lord Arryn. But I didn't do this alone. Now… now you may rest in peace, and the winds of this age shall lift you high into the heavens.

Lyonel and Cassana ran over and jumped at their father.

"Ngh!" Daveth groaned.

"Teehee! Hi, papa!" the twins greeted playfully. The elder twin carried a big stick in his hand whilst the younger wore a makeshift flower crown on her head.

"Well, that's one way to get my attention, pups."

"Come play with us, papa!" they beckoned.

"In a moment. We still have to wait for your mother first."

"Pwomise?"

"I promise. Now go play with your aunt 'Cella."

"Okie!"

With that, they ran off to join their aunt and brother. Torrhen by that point was walking by himself and would pretend to chase his elder siblings around the courtyard. Myrcella clapped her hands in promoting her nephews and niece in their games. Daveth stood and brushed the dirt off himself; just in time as Sansa arrived with the now-sleeping Rickard.

"There you are. I wondered where you were," Sansa remarked.

Daveth glanced at her. "Uncle Tyrion didn't tell you?" he asked.

"No. He's busy chairing today's Small Council session. Not that he would have told me otherwise. But I suppose it shouldn't surprise me to find you here. Ser Barristan once told me you would always sneak off to this area as a boy."

"It has a good view of the city." He exhales. "Hard to believe it's been six months. How have you been feeling lately?"

Sansa rested her head on his shoulder. "You mean after the delivery last month? I'm fine, love." She presents Rickard. "Here he is, little one. Here he is. Daddy's here," she cooed.

Daveth looked down at the baby who was now waking up. Opening his mouth to yawn, Rickard stuck his tongue out. He didn't have any teeth. But the Young Stag felt sentimental about his ever-growing family.

"Would you like to hold him?" Sansa offered.

He blinked. "What?"

"Our son. Would you like to hold him?"

Hesitant at first, Daveth slowly offered his hands. Sansa smiled and placed Rickard in his father's arms, gently at first until the baby's head was rested against Daveth's right arm. Once the transfer was complete, Daveth was trying hard to keep his newborn son in his arms. By the Gods, he looked nervous. He didn't want to drop him by accident! Rickard looked up at his father with his big blue eyes; so innocent and pure.

"Awww, how cute!" Myrcella notices and came over. "Hello there, Rickard. It's me, your auntie 'Cella! Look at him, sister-in-law, he looks like you.~"

"You think so?"

"I do. Look. He's got your face."

"That's what the wet nurses said when he was born, that he looks a great deal like me." Sansa turns to her husband. "But I'm the only one who sees his father in him."

"Lemme see!" Lyonel beckoned. "Lemme see!"

"Manners," Sansa scolded her firstborn son.

"Sowwy, mama. Can I see pwease?"

Daveth shifted his posture and dropped down to one knee. Lyonel and Cassana looked to see their new baby brother, who looked at them with faint curiosity. There was so much of the world shown to Rickard that he wanted to see more of. Torrhen waddled his way over and held onto his sister's dress firmly.

"Wickad?" Cassana tried pronouncing his name.

"Close enough, sweetling, but yes," Sansa told her daughter. "Children, your father and I would like to introduce you to your new brother. Rickard. Be gentle now, okay? He's just a baby."

Lyonel and Cassana poked their baby brother's cheeks; Rickard squeaked at his brother and sister but giggled at the attention he was getting and gripped each of their fingers. Torrhen, on the other hand, was rather curious about what was going on. Pretty soon, Lyonel and Cassana were quick to make funny noises and faces at Rickard. The baby was laughing at such tricks. Sansa smiled – knowing they were being good big brothers and sister to the newest member of their family.

Hours had passed.

Sansa told Daveth about what she was informed by the Small Council. He listened to the reports and nodded. Over the following six months since the Battle of King's Landing, the Seven Kingdoms were quick to start rebuilding areas that bore the brunt of the War for Westeros. The Reach and the Riverlands were the most fertile lands in the realm and did their best to provide food for all, followed by trade with the Free Cities of Essos. Other administrative regions that were largely left intact or unharmed was the Vale of Arryn.

To the surprise of nearly all, Daveth had sent word to start rebuilding the Iron Islands—the same archipelago he had destroyed in the Second Greyjoy Rebellion. Not only would the Iron Islands be rebuilt, but Theon Greyjoy would be able to return home; the new Lord Reaper of Pyke had vowed to bring a permanent end to the iron price and instead reinstate the policies of his grandfather Quellon: opposed to the Old Way, freeing thralls, discouraging the taking of salt wives, encouraging marriage alliances with the mainland and bringing maesters to the Isles.

"It's been a long time since all this began," Daveth mused.

"I see a time of great peace and prosperity ahead," Sansa agreed.

"And how is it you see this?"

"Look around you. Where once the noble houses waged war against each other, they instead cooperate with one another. Instead of petty squabbles, we now have a sense of calm."

"But how long will it last?"

"We cannot plan for every possibility, my husband," Sansa says. "People will make their own choices. New evils will arise to replace the old. Each kingdom must choose its own path to follow." She gripped his hand. "But whatever those choices, we will face them together."

Daveth nodded. "We will be ready. Until then," he glances at their children, "we could at least enjoy ourselves with those who matter most."

Sansa nodded. "Children! It's time to come back in!" she called out.

"Comin', mama!"

Chapter End

Author's Note: Another chapter is done. Tyrion chairs the Small Council on behalf of his nephew and created more offices to take some of the burdens off him, but what is more surprising is the Imp of House Lannister has a family of his own—continuing the lion's bloodline to the new generation. Old and new faces have been appointed to the Small Council, some have been associated with Daveth himself. And considering six months have passed, Sansa Stark has given birth to another baby boy—Rickard Baratheon. What are your thoughts about the fourth child? Stay tuned for more updates!

Tohka123: Really enjoying the story, keep up the hard work

jeremiahkelley93: great 2 chapters.

GREAT CELESTIAL-DRAGON: Can't believe it's almost over! But so damn awesome, seen the trope, needs some updates but clearly someone who reviewed it is obviously a troll but loved the story! Smashed Ricardo would later inherit sansa's hair colour, mean most of her siblings have brown hair but be interesting how they think of his future and his siblings.

Chapter 871 - bhh

Popular novel hashtag