A Spider and a Dragon

(Vary's POV, Pentos)

Varys sat within his solar going over the reports and messages sent by his little bird.

The Ironborn were about to launch an all-out attack on Westeros, targetting major ports such as Lannisport, Seagard, and even Sunspear.

It was clear to anyone who studied their history, the reduction in raids recently, the sighting of Ironborn in forested areas, including the lands beyond the wall. Reports of ships slinking throughout the northern coast, searching for wood to be cut.

It all pointed towards them building up their fleet in preparation for an attack.

He was aware of this plan of theirs since Quellon's death, the man apparently having fallen from one of the bridges. Suspicions ran through his mind who could've orchestrated such an event? Baelon and Victarion despite their differences would never plot such a thing against their father, and Aeron is too carefree and having been reportedly in the Great Hall at the time.

This left the most mysterious of the Greyjoys, Euron… a man who was unpredictable by nature and even Varys dare not send his little bird down his way. They never came back, not in one piece at least.

Since becoming the Master of Whisperers to Aerys, his role had been to weaken the Red Dragons and their hold over their Kingdoms. Fanning the flames of the mad king's paranoia, ruining the plans of Rhaeger and his cronies, and driving a wedge between the Mad Dragon and the Old Lion.

It was unfortunate that Daemon had been too young to walk, let alone lead an army.

Even he hadn't expected everything to end up as it did. He'd always felt something off about the prince, but starting a war over a mad prophecy… truly how far had the red dragon fallen.

Weakening Westeros had been a remarkably easy task, whisper false information here and there, make Aerys suspicious of his son, of his most powerful ally, and of his court.

Varys had contemplated marrying his sister off to Rhaeger, but that had been shelved after his fat friend had claimed her for himself. No doubt Aerys would never allow his son to wed a tarnished bride.

Oh how Vary's seethed when he found out, the Baratheon Lord had been so close to his late sister's locations, only for it to be ruined because of the cheesemonger's lust.

Everything could have been solved so seamlessly, then and there…

Perhaps the gods themselves were enraged, for Steffon Baratheon and his wife met their demise soon after in front of their sons he would later find out.

Tragic, but immensely beneficial as it sent Aerys into a spiral of madness and unpredictability. Spurning Tywin again, he wed his daughter to the 'weakest' Kingdom, further infuriating his own Lords who remained distrustful of the Martells.

For good reason, the Martells had always intended to put their blood on the Iron Throne, since their treachery of the Young Dragon.

Everything had been in place, the Targayens having lost a significant portion of their hold over Westeros, its heirs 'tainted' by the blood of the Martells and the continuous insults and distrust levied on its most powerful lords. A few decades and Westeros was ripe for the taking.

Only for Rhaegar to upend everything, 'abduct' Robert's betrothed, and for Aerys to be Aerys in his response to it all.

The stupid mutt should've just stayed in the fucking Riverlands and wed the fish. Instead, he had to be impulsive in his reaction.

If it had happened during Daemon's majority, then it would have made the perfect time to invade. Alas, it had not.

The recent changes in Riverlands had concerned him. These 'projects' Erlend had implemented were nearing completion. The once-divided Riverlands had become a genuine powerhouse all on its own, supported by the stalwart Valemen who near-worshiped the ground that the Mudd walked on.

It frustrated him that what little he could get from there, was 'how good lord Erlend looked' or 'how wise he was'... he didn't want news of them sucking him off, he wanted concrete information about the ongoing.

Even now, he still didn't have an accurate report of how many men the Banners had under their command. Previously it had been assumed to be about 20,000 - 25,000 men, but now rumors ranged from 30,000 to 50,000.

An absurd number, considering how costly it would be. So he had little faith in the accuracy of it all.

The game was different, more dangerous.

Olenna and Kevan were predictable, anticipating their moves was easy. Doran was obsessed with seeing his ancestor's mission of subverting Westeros to be completed. Stannis and Benjen were loyal as long as it did not infringe on the safety of their family.

Every single one of them had a weakness he could exploit, their moves lay bare for him to see. Erlend Mudd was a different type of person, he was unpredictable and ambitious. A very dangerous combination, that was only matched by Euron Greyjoy.

The new players were proving to be troublesome, something that kept him up late at night, trying to counter them.

A slight fear niggled him at the back of his mind. Worry and doubt crept onto him, but he shrugged them off. He was confident he could come out victorious, he'd done so before.

…

(Visenya Blackfyre POV, GC Encampment)

Visenya Targaryen… no it was Blackfyre now, often struggled with the thought of her rebirth.

One minute she was ranting at the sheer stupidity of her sister's descendants, as she watched her idiot of a great how many times grand nephew stab his ever stupider aunt. The next she finds herself being held by a weak woman, while a wretched fat foot watched over them.

She had reacted as one normally would, finding themselves reborn back to the world they previously died in, she cried her ass off.

Thankfully, Visenya retained most of her memories, including those of what occurred after her death, having watched her House destroy itself.

It was a shame she didn't get her beloved longsword back, but at least she knew where to find it.

Sure she complained about the suddenness of the situation, but at least she had a new shot at life. Without having to deal with Aegon's nonsense or Rhaeny's frivolity.

Aegon 'Broodsalot' was a cunt. Granted she wasn't all that better, but the man had barely cared for her, even as a sibling.

Apparently, he'd been jealous of her during their childhood, a deep sense of inferiority or something as Rhaenys put it.

It was obvious to everyone he favored their younger sister and actually loved her, something that he withheld from her.

When Rhaenys died, whatever love they held for each other as small as it was, had disintegrated into nothingness. Perhaps that was why she spoiled Maegor so much, considering he continued to be a disappointment as a father, just as he had been as a husband.

Too bad he became a disappointment like his father after her death. His successor was better but he also ruined everything at his death.

Aegon wasn't there for her when she needed him the most, so was it a wonder they barely spoke to each other after Rhaeny's death?

You'd think things would get better in the afterlife, once they were all reunited. Yeah No…

The bastard had followed Rhaenys like a lost puppy, wherever she went, he would be there beside her. It was frankly sickening.

"Oh, I'm going to spend time with Rhaenys, or I can't spend time with you… Rhaenys needs me to do this." Visenya mocked her former husband out loud. "Fucking limp-dicked bastard."

Both in life and death she had been loyal to Aegon, but did he appreciate her efforts, no. She was too cruel, she was too proud, and she was being too much of a bitch.

Complain. Complain. Complain. That's all the fucker ever did when he wasn't pining over their sister.

Then again her older sister in this timeline had effectively done the same till she croaked in the birthing bed.

'So how do I get the smug brown-eyed incubus into my bed.' Ah yes Erlend Mudd, the only man to ever beat her. The only one who caught her eyes in both lifetimes.

"Why shouldn't I? Rhaenys and Aegon had each other, so why can't I have my own man?" Visenya reasoned to herself.

She wanted that anomaly for herself, sure he was married, but why would he stick to that red-haired bimbo, when he could have her?

Speaking of anomalies, this world was vastly different from hers, things in Westeros largely went the same, but Essos had both changed and at the same time remained the same.

It was very confusing.

The Mudds surviving had such a profound effect, that even the usually recluse Yi Ti was somewhat dragged into this shitfest.

Hell, the exiles somehow became the driving force behind Braavos's existence, that was certainly mind-boggling. Especially with how much power that gave them or more precisely him.

She wanted Erlend, she wanted him since she had laid eyes on him and even more so when he handed her ass to her.

Unfortunately, he fucked off to Westeros, the kingdom she barely wanted anything to do with.

Regardless of her personal feeling on that continent, This was a second chance at life and she would be damned if she didn't pursue the man she had fallen in love with.

Fuck Her Brother, Fuck Her Sister, and if they were somehow watching her then, "You can fuck right off you silver-haired cunts." Conveniently ignoring her hair.

She observed as smoke rose in the distance. The familiar sounds of despair and wailing could be heard.

'Oh… I forgot I was in the middle of a battle.'