Ned IX & Viserys III (AC 289)

Ned IX

Ten thousand northern swords were encamped on the east bank of the Green Fork and nearly double that number - men of the Riverlands and what were now called the Easterlands (at least officially) - were on the west bank. Between these two forces lay the Twins.

"It's the Frey's worst nightmare," Howland Reed noted. The lord of Greywater brought no forces to join the Northern host - his people had commited their strength to keeping watch upon the Fever River and also on the southern end of the Neck. Any Ironborn raiders would find themselves most unfortunate if they ever came in view of the marshlanders and chances were that they'd never even see the men harrying them to their deaths. "Armies stationed on both sides of their stronghold."

"We aren't here to do anything to the Freys," Ned pointed out.

"Not this time." Howland shook his head. "I suspect this is a subtle message from the King to Walder Frey. This time it's just a muster against the Ironborn but if he ever wanted to remove the Freys, he could."

Ned smiled. "Robert isn't known for being subtle."

"He wasn't," said the one woman in the tent. Cersei Lannister still wore the mail and did so with more ease now. She wasn't armed right now - unless you counted her belt knife - but on the road she'd taken to carrying a crossbow. "But now he's spent several years in King's landing. He might have grown up."

However much Benjen dreaded his wife's presence in the army, the men liked it. If the Mormonts were there rather than guarding Bear Island, they might even have taken her to their hearts. The golden-haired woman in the red and grey cloak was even cheered as they reached Moat Cailin and joined the White Harbor levies that had been busily restoring some of the defenses. She'd ridden the length of the North by now.

"I suppose we'll see," Ned conceded. "You're probably right about how Lord Frey is taking it. He's certainly not extending hospitality if he can avoid it."

Benjen shrugged. "Well the entire army is going to pass through his castle when the time comes. Can't be helped."

"Two knights riding north from the Twins," came a call.

They rose and went to the entrance of the tent. "A trout and a lion," the sentry announced before Ned had exited.

"Might it be my brother?" asked Cersei.

The knights rode up the slope to the tents and banners that marked them as the place of the army's commanders. The Lannister knight wasn't the laughing young man Ned remembered from the throneroom in King's Landing, it was an older man.

"Uncle Tygett!" Cersei greeted him.

"Niece," the man greeted her with a surprised look at the mail shirt.

Ned offered his hand to the knight in Tully colours, who had removed his helmet to reveal familiar auburn hair and a face much younger than his companion's. "Edmure. It's good to see you."

"Ned." The young man gripped his hand firmly. "Has my sister forgiven you yet for bringing babies back with you from Dorne."

"I hope so or where did my daughter come from?"

Edmure threw back his head and laughed. "Family is important to we Tullys. And speaking of which, you must be Benjen!"

"Yes. It's good to meet you at last," the younger Stark agreed. "You'll have met my wife, of course."

"Nautrally." He bowed gallantly to Cersei. "Is this a new fashion from the North? Please tell me my sister has adopted the same style."

"Alas, no, but my goodsister seems interested," Cersei replied with a curtsey.

"I'm sure Genna and Darlessa will be fascinated to hear about it when we reach Casterly Rock." Tygett shook Benjen's hand, the two men gripping each other's hands fiercely. "Will you ride with us there, Lord Benjen? If Prince Stannis defeats the Ironborn we can send you north on a fast ship to rejoin your brother and if he doesn't then there's plenty of time to ride back."

Benjen frowned and looked over at Ned, who nodded. "I'll be glad to," he said.

"You can meet Jaime," Cersei said brightly. "And Tyrion, I suppose."

"Tyrion's with the fleet."

"Really, I never would have taken him for a sailor."

"A lot of things have changed since you left Casterly Rock," Tygett said grimly. "There was... a bad business with a smallfolk girl. Your father didn't handle it well."

Ned grimaced. Southerners. If he heard about one of his lord's sons treating the smallfolk badly... hells, if Robb grew up like that who knew how he'd handle it? It's easy to blame Tywin for not raising his son right but who knows if I'll be a better father.

Edmure sensed the mood and changed the subject. "You probably haven't heard, by the way, but Lord Bolton has a new son."

"He has?"

"Aye. Barton Bolton, a good healthy lad by the letter he sent to King Robert. I don't recall if his elder boy is with your army?"

"No, young Domeric's still just a boy. He's been staying with his aunt in Barrowton," Ned remembered.

Viserys III

Oberyn Martell cut a dashing figure at the head of the Dornish lords joining the army at Riverrun. Even the Reach heir, Ser Willas, seemed to have fallen under his spell and looked somewhat let down when Robert advised him that the bulk of the Reach's levies would be placed with Tywin's army while the Dornish would march further north to join Ned Stark's army.

"Your pardon, Prince Oberyn," Robert said drily, "But since it was Westerland knights who slew your sister and her children, there seems to me every chance for hotblooded men of the two kingdoms to quarrel even after the men responsible were punished."

"There are hotblooded men in the Westerlands? You surprise me, I had always considered them as coldblooded as their lord."

"Thank you for making my point for me."

"Well, since we can't march on up to Seagard directly, perhaps I could have a private conversation with my kinsman here."

Viserys saw the Usurper's brow crinkle. "Kinsman?"

"Well, by marriage." Oberyn nodded towards Viserys, who straightened sharply. The Martells had supported Rhaegar, who'd been married to Oberyn's sister. Did that mean...? Was this...?

"Well, as his guardian, I don't see a problem. I think he might be a bit young for your tastes though."

What did that mean?

"Off you go, Viserys." Robert patted him on the shoulder. "I won't need your services until dinner so you can do what you want until then." He reached into his purse and pulled out a few silver coins. "Here, if you want something from the sutlers, go ahead and treat yourself."

Oberyn - the Red Viper, Viserys remembered was his nickname - didn't say anything until they were clear of the Baratheon tents. "Does he treat you like that often?"

"Like what?"

"Hah." The man shook his head. "Is he a clever man pretending or is he just what appears to be, I wonder."

"Uh, why did you want to see me?"

Oberyn smiled thinly. "I wanted to see if the dragon had truly been tamed by the stag."

"Tamed!" Viserys slapped his hands together. "Is that what they think of me in Dorne?"

"We think little of your father in Dorne. My sister and her children could have come to us for shelter, or been sent with you to Dragonstone. Did you ever wonder why your King Aerys didn't arrange that?"

"I... no, I didn't think of that."

"Well you were just a child. But now you're growing into a man, what do you think?"

Viserys thought about his father and, reluctantly, about Robert Baratheon - the king whose actions he'd seen for the last few years. The King who was keeping his sister in King's Landing and seducing her into loyalty towards his family. "I think... I think your sister was a hostage against my brother."

"Oh? Well that's not precisely it. It was more that she was hostage against us. I doubt Rhaegar cared for my sister, with the Stark girl to distract him." There was something cold about Oberyn's tone, much unlike the heat Viserys felt about Daenerys' circumstances. "Ten thousand Dornish pikes fought for Rhaegar at the Trident, despite his crimes against us. Now about as many of our young men are here and fighting for the Baratheon."

"He's an usurper. After my Aegon's death I became the heir and when father was killed I should have become king."

"There's an old Dornish saying," the older man advised him. "It dates back to before my family united the land under our rule: 'Why does treason never prosper'?"

"Treason does prosper, else how does he claim to be King of the Seven Kingdoms."

Oberyn lowered his voice. "Treason does not prosper, my young friend, because when it does, no one dares name it as such."

Viserys laughed bitterly. "And there you have my life, friend - if friend you are."

"Oh, you do not want me to be your enemy, Viserys." Oberyn gestured to where the Dornish knights and their entourages were making camp. You want the House of Nymeros Martell to be your friends because you want our soldiers for your cause."

"It would be a start."

"My brother and I recognise that after our mutual nephew, your claim was best to the Iron Throne. But the Iron Throne is gone and we won't shed Dornish blood to re-establish it unless three conditions are met."

Viserys looked at the knights and men-at-arms. He'd begun to get some appreciation for the quality of soldiers over the last few months and these were as good or better than most of those gathering into the Riverlands at the call of the Stag. "You have my attention."

"Firstly, we'd need some confidence that you can succeed. Dorne has stood alone against the rest of Westeros before and while we've triumphed, the price is not one my brother will pay. We'd see your strength and the depth of your support in the other Kingdoms."

Which was hardly the case, Viserys thought bitterly. At best he might hope for some support out of the Reach right now... although if a winter was coming on then the southern kingdoms would be at an advantage. "I understand."

"Secondly, we would know what sort of King we're making. Your father was a weak king, dependent upon Tywin Lannister. When that alliance broke down, within three years Aerys was dead. There's no use fighting for a king like that."

Viserys grimaced but said nothing. Disagreeing with Oberyn wouldn't accomplish anything but he could hardly agree. A king who everyone betrayed was always in grave danger.

Oberyn gave him an amused look. "Well, it's too early to say on those."

"And the third condition?"

The younger prince of Dorne parted his lips in a fierce snarl. "There was no accident in my sister's death. Stark, Arryn and Baratheon prospered by it, but it was Lannister who had my sister murdered. We'll help you with Robert Baratheon, but you must pledge to revenge against Tywin Lannister."

Viserys smirked. "I'd have insisted even if you didn't."

There was a clatter of hooves and a rider wearing a trout tabard reined in his horse near the two of them. Viserys recognised the rider as one of Hoster Tully's squires. "Lord Viserys, where can I find the king!?"

"He was in his tent when I last saw him. Is something wrong?"

The boy turned his horse's head. "A raven arrived from Banefort. There's been a battle off the coast and Prince Stannis's fleet is retreating to Fair Isle with many ships lost."