Chapter 32
ASHARA DAYNE
Ashara had considered her life forfeit all those years ago. And now, as she lived, having the opportunity to spend every day with the man he loved, she considered them all a blessing. It was a fought blessing that had come at a great cost, most of it born by her lord husband sitting infront of her.
And he continued to bear it still. For her. For his family. For this world, and yet few understood him, understood the sacrifice he had made for the world. And so, she would, she would understand him, stand by his side even when no one else would.
"So, it is beginning?" she asked, and of all the people in the world, she was the only one who knew of both their perceived and their true enemies. Many believed the Blackfyres as their ultimate enemy, and yet she knew that to be false. That the Blackfyres were but a nuisance in the grand scheme of things. Their true enemy lay North—hidden behind the Great Wall, gathering strength as the seasons passed, wishing to plunge this world into darkness.
"Yes, the Blackfyres are finally making their move," he replied as they both lay in the Godswood. She rested her head on his lap, savoring his presence and warmth before he went on to his campaign.
"Is it wise risking yourself like that?" she asked, knowing that his plan of taking down the Blackfyres was dangerous and involved much risk on his part.
"Meereen provided me with a refuge when I had no place to go. The city is our greatest ally on the other side of the Narrow Sea. After the liberation of Astapor, many in the region are eyeing this conflict and are supporting the Blackfyres only to curb this wave of freedom that threatens the status quo," Pentosh and Volantis were among the most prominent ones. They could only officially support the Blackfyres, of course, not with Kingslanding being a great trading partner for these cities.
There was a time when the only thing that made the continent a power was its military might, but in one decade, Daemon had changed that, believing that if Kingslanding was to become a power broker in the world, it must expand its influence through the art of commerce.
And so the last decade had seen the Crown expand its enterprise massively, investing heavily into ventures that had revolutionized one thing after another, from farming to construction to craftsmanship.
Artisans had been smuggled from across the Narrow Sea, and now Kinglanding's expanded Streets housed the finest glass makers and other craftsmen, each of them working for the Crown, helping them expand their influence.
"So, you think they will target Meereen first," she asked again as she held his hand. The glove covering it made her heart fill up with guilt.
"Yes, and if Meereen falls, our enemies will have access to an unimaginable amount of Gold, and though Gold doesn't necessarily win the war. It is much easier to win a war if you have if you have it rather than not," he finished, his eyes landing onto her own as she felt them soften as he caressed her protruding belly.
"I wish there was another way, but the truth is if Meereen falls, this war will become a lot harder for us," he replied, and she knew it as well.
"I know," she replied as she touched his face. The cool feel of the metal made her bite her lip as she felt guilt rip through her knowing full well that she was the one responsible for putting him through this.
"If I ask you to stay, will you stay?" she asked, and his eyes softened as he looked her in the eye.
"You very well know the answer to that," and he would. And yet she would not.
"Pycelle, the Grandmaester, you were the one who killed him," she asked, and he nodded.
"He was working for the Lannisters. The only reason I kept him around was to keep an eye on their movements and to monitor their movements. But now that they have made their choice, the man has served his purpose," he finished, and she knew that.
"So, Lord Tywin has made his choice," the relationship between the Crown and House Lannister had been rocky ever since her marriage as the Lord of the West was denied a Queen once more, as Daemon hung the sword of his children's dishonorable acts over his head.
Both of them knew that the man would not take the threat lying down, but regardless, she had not expected the man to join hands with the Blackfyres.
"And what of your brother? Is he really ready to lead the campaign in the Riverlands?" With Daemon away from the continent to bring down the force planning to attack Meereen, he had tasked his brother Viserys with the duty of pushing down the conflict in Riverlands.
And over the years, much of the influence of the late King had been curbed from the young Prince, and though Viserys Targaryen was no Daemon, the young Prince wished to prove his own worth and wanted to make a name for himself.
She knew that he had requested Daemon to grant him lands of his own, lands across the Narrow Sea.
"Viserys is nearly the same age as me when I began my own campaign in Meereen. He has long wished to come out of the shadow of our father and myself, to make a name for himself. I think it is better that we channel his energy and ambition like this rather than let it fester and turn this ambition into resentment," he added.
"Plus, here in Westeros, he will have the wisdom of many others to rely on one. Despite our differences, he is my brother, and neither me nor mother would wish to see him harmed," and that was just who Daemon was. Thinking of everyone.
And so she would think for him.
"So, we leave for Dragonstone?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Ships have been prepared. We will leave tomorrow," he said, and that was the official story that the King and the Queen were going to their ancestral home at Dragonstone for the birth of their first child. Though that was but the half-truth, for yes, that was the purpose of her visit, but Daemon had a whole other reason for going to that island.
"Will I finally get to see it," she asked rather giddily about the Crown's most well-guarded secret, one which was known only to but three people in total. And she felt him stiffen for a second as he sighed.
"You promised me, Daemon," she reminded him, and he nodded, finally giving in to her request.
"Alright, alright, I will let you see him, the beast that has been slumbering away in those caves for all these years."
0000
EDDARD STARK
Much had changed for Eddard Stark in the last decade. Much had changed in the realm as a whole, with their new King cementing his power and bringing sweeping changes across the realm, though one should never have doubted his intentions given he had modified the borders that had stood the same for nearly three hundred years.
And North was not much different from the realm. The losses suffered by their lands during the Rebellion threatened to decimate the North, and yet it was the very Crown they had risen up against that supported the North through those tough times. Of all the rebelling kingdoms, the North had been given the most merciful terms, and though the reparations from the other kingdoms had been cut down as well as the years passed, with most of the hostages from the Vale and the North now back in their lands or married into Houses in Kingslanding.
"I was not expecting you to grace my Halls, Lord Stark. Had I known, I would have prepared a feast worthy of you, my lord," Wyman Manderly spoke, his booming voice booming across his solar. The hulking man was a symbol of opulence as he sat in a chair specially made for him.
There were rumors that the man could no longer saddle a horse, and looking at him, he did not doubt them. House Manderly was amongst the newer houses in the North and the only one who worshipped the Seven. They governed over the North's only city, White Harbor, and were very wealthy because of it.
After the rebellion, when his marriage with the Tullys was resolved, he married the sister of Lord Manderly on the advice of his sister and the King. The marriage helped him stabilize the North, especially as much of the North's trade happened through this port.
"There is no need. I did not write to you about my visit because I wished to keep it discreet," Eddard replied, and the man's eyes glinted as he rubbed his hands.
Wyman Manderly was not a warrior. He was a merchant and one of the more astute minds in the kingdom. And they were fiercely loyal to House Stark.
"If I was a guessing man, I would say that this is because of my recent appointment as the Master of Coin," the man guessed, and he would have expected nothing less of the man.
"Yes, it is," he said as he took out a missive from his pocket and handed it to the man.
"I was to visit the capital myself, but some things have come up that make it troublesome for me to leave the North at the current time. But I have sensitive information that needs to be passed onto your grace. Information that shall only ever be seen by his eyes, and I can think of no better man to carry it than you," he said, lavishing a bit of praise, and the man's lips turned up at that.
"Of course, I will be honored to take your message, my lord," he said as he pocketed the missive.
"Though I must say I am surprised that you came here just for a missive," he asked, and of course, the man would be curious.
"If I may be so bold, may I ask you one thing, my lord," the man began, and Eddard nodded.
"You may," he answered, and he saw the man lean back as he looked him in the eye.
"To this day, many question why the Crown was so lenient on the North after the Rebellion. And not just lenient. The Crown has helped us progress in a way no other King has ever done before. I have watched you import grain for years even as we live in the longest Summer of our times," and he knew that he would be asked that question once.
And of all the lords in the North, only Wyman could question him, given he was his good-brother. And with the things developing as they were beyond the Wall, the secret of the true enemy rising from the Great North will not be a secret for much longer.
"For years, ships from the Capital have come to my shores, laden with stone carved from the caves of Dragonstone. Stone that I have then sent to your lands without question," he added.
"What do you think of this, Manderly?" he flipped the question and saw the man raise a brow as he rubbed his chin, contemplating.
"The answer to that is rather simple, my lord. You are preparing the North for war," Wyman answered. And it was rather easy to infer that once one looked at the trade volume.
And he raised a brow at that as the man's face turned grave and his voice somber.
"And yet we have no enemies to our South. We have no quarrel with the Crown, for the King seems to favor us quite a bit. The other kingdoms have no reason to engage us in a conflict," he added, and he nodded.
"And yet we prepare for war," he admitted, and the man did not speak as silence hung in the air.
"That means the enemy we prepare for is in the North, beyond the wall," the man reasoned out, and he nodded.
"Yet this is all a bit too excessive for the free folk. They may have the numbers, but they are not a unified fighting force. Twenty thousand strong men, fully armed, would be enough to deal with them," Eddard sighed.
"For the true enemy we face are not the Freefolk," Eddard began and saw the man frown, and yet as the seconds passed, he saw the man's eyes widen.
"You wouldn't be referring to that," the Mnaderlys had lived in the North for hundreds of years and were now aware of legends and tales of their lands.
"But those are just tales, legends used to scare children," he added, and Eddard believed the same until he read the reports from Night's watch and realized the truth in their King's word.
"I am afraid you are wrong, Lord Manderly. These legends are not just stories. They are real. And they are rising up once more, and if they succeed they wil bask the whole world in absolute darkness."
0000
Back in Yunkai, the exiled Masters gathered in a massive solar as they expressed their frustration to the hulking figure of the man who had promised them back their cities, and yet even after giving the man their gold and riches they had nothing.
"You promised us our cities if we gave you an army. We gave you gold enough to hire every mercenary company this side of the Narrow Sea, and yet we have nothing to show for it," one of the masters roared as Illyrio Mopatis replied.
"Patience, masters. Patience!"
"Soon enough, both Astapor and Meereen will burn, and you shall have your cities back. Soon. Very soon."
0000
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