Chapter 8: That's Sneaky
Flightless Man
Versed in the lewd.
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Chapter 8: That's Sneaky
Alliser Thorne
Alliser Thorne
The iron shackles chaining my wrists to the hull have started to rub the skin raw and I just want to wrap them around that damned cowards throat. Jaime Lannister handed King Viserys right to his father and the other invaders, no doubt forcing him to surrender the throne.
Even as Jeremy and I led a defense on the walls, the city burned below us at the hands of the Lannisters. The Wall or my life left me no choice but to take the black, with nearly a hundred guardsmen choosing the same fate.
Good loyal men and now we go to die with criminals in the snow. The recruiter lies well but I know this will be no grand adventure. The only reason good men go willingly to this death sentence is to stop the rest of the scum from revolting.
When the deck hatch flips open to spill blinding light upon us in the hold, I close one eye immediately to keep some of my sight for whatever happens next. A body falling inside with is not what I expect, nor the cheery greeting from a vaguely familiar voice.
"Who here actually wants to go North and freeze?" No one answers the man who climbs down the iron rungs. "Didn't think so. So show of hands, who would rather turn this ship South and put our King back on the throne?"
He turns to face us and I can finally recognize Lord Jon Connington, once the Hand of King Aerys. "All of you want to see justice done… good."
Snorting at the fact our hands are suspended above us, I find myself wondering where exactly he plans to go and if he even means the right King. "What about the rest of the crew?" We still have nearly forty armed men to defeat if this going to work.
"A friend helped me replace enough with our own allies, the rest decided to swim for shore." He unlocks my shackles first, the benefit of having the stones to speak "Now who would you be? You're not some lowborn."
"Ser Alliser Thorne at your service Lord Connington," Once I'm free I rub feeling back into my aching wrists. "Sers Rykker, Celtigar, and Rambton are also true to the Targaryens."
Better not make my own preference for Viserys known yet, Connington was one of Prince Rhaegar's closest friends. Besides, I'm not even sure my fellows will agree with me.
"If anyone doesn't want to join me in the Stepstones you had better start swimming now." He smirks arrogantly and I grit my teeth silently at the sight of it. "We're almost past Tarth and will be sailing out of sight of shore soon."
"But that's full of pirates!" Complains one of the more cowardly guards with a petulant whine. "Why go to the Stepstones?"
"Because it will conceal our planning until we are ready." Explains the pacing Lord Connington with blind confidence in things working exactly the way he wants. "It's going to take time to gather those loyal to our cause and no one will mind us keeping our skills sharp on pirates while we wait."
Following him up into the afternoon sun I squint until my eyes adjust. Some of the crew is swabbing parts of the deck, the water coming away pink. Swam to shore my ass, you just want to come across all heroic so no one rejects you.
Counting the current crew and comparing them to how many I saw while being led on board, it looks like we're down about fifteen men. The 'missing' sailors are already being replaced with those of us that have any experience on the waves.
…
Even as Jeremy and I led a defense on the walls, the city burned below us at the hands of the Lannisters. The Wall or my life left me no choice but to take the black, with nearly a hundred guardsmen choosing the same fate.
Good loyal men and now we go to die with criminals in the snow. The recruiter lies well but I know this will be no grand adventure. The only reason good men go willingly to this death sentence is to stop the rest of the scum from revolting.
When the deck hatch flips open to spill blinding light upon us in the hold, I close one eye immediately to keep some of my sight for whatever happens next. A body falling inside with is not what I expect, nor the cheery greeting from a vaguely familiar voice.
"Who here actually wants to go North and freeze?" No one answers the man who climbs down the iron rungs. "Didn't think so. So show of hands, who would rather turn this ship South and put our King back on the throne?"
He turns to face us and I can finally recognize Lord Jon Connington, once the Hand of King Aerys. "All of you want to see justice done… good."
Snorting at the fact our hands are suspended above us, I find myself wondering where exactly he plans to go and if he even means the right King. "What about the rest of the crew?" We still have nearly forty armed men to defeat if this going to work.
"A friend helped me replace enough with our own allies, the rest decided to swim for shore." He unlocks my shackles first, the benefit of having the stones to speak "Now who would you be? You're not some lowborn."
"Ser Alliser Thorne at your service Lord Connington," Once I'm free I rub feeling back into my aching wrists. "Sers Rykker, Celtigar, and Rambton are also true to the Targaryens."
Better not make my own preference for Viserys known yet, Connington was one of Prince Rhaegar's closest friends. Besides, I'm not even sure my fellows will agree with me.
"If anyone doesn't want to join me in the Stepstones you had better start swimming now." He smirks arrogantly and I grit my teeth silently at the sight of it. "We're almost past Tarth and will be sailing out of sight of shore soon."
"But that's full of pirates!" Complains one of the more cowardly guards with a petulant whine. "Why go to the Stepstones?"
"Because it will conceal our planning until we are ready." Explains the pacing Lord Connington with blind confidence in things working exactly the way he wants. "It's going to take time to gather those loyal to our cause and no one will mind us keeping our skills sharp on pirates while we wait."
Following him up into the afternoon sun I squint until my eyes adjust. Some of the crew is swabbing parts of the deck, the water coming away pink. Swam to shore my ass, you just want to come across all heroic so no one rejects you.
Counting the current crew and comparing them to how many I saw while being led on board, it looks like we're down about fifteen men. The 'missing' sailors are already being replaced with those of us that have any experience on the waves.
…
Oberyn Martell
"He betrothed Rhaenys to the Imp!" The news shocks me to my feet and I need to pace off this anger. "How could you accept such an offer?"
Rhaenys hears my outburst as she plays with Sarella and Tyene in the water, the happy splashing coming to an end without myself being aware. Elia though just crosses her arms dismissively and snorts at my rage.
"The only reason my children and I are alive right now is because of Viserys." My sister isn't wrong, but my darling niece and the boy's own mother are the ones paying for his terms of surrender. "He did as promised and kept Rhaenys safe for me. I will not blame a child for my late husband's actions."
"He could have tried harder, instead of throwing her at the littlest Lannister."
Understanding hits Rhaenys over what is being discussed and she ends up being the one to silence me for now. "Is being little bad?" Scrunching her face up in adorable worry soothes my fiery blood. "… Am I bad?"
"Of course you aren't dear, your uncle is just being himself." My brother side steps answering the question with a glare leveled at me. The unspoken insults hang thick in the air between Doran and I, while Rhaenys doesn't seem bothered.
"I don't care if my husband is little," She firmly decides with the same determined eyes as her mother. "Viserys is little and he's nice. Grand Father was big and he scared me."
I'm not going to change a Martell woman's mind once they decide on something, so it's best I get on board now… or at least keep my plotting far more secretive. "So long as Tyrion is nice to you, this doesn't bother you?"
She thinks about it for a little bit longer and comes up with a few more criteria that I will be sure to pass along. "I miss Father singing to me… I hope Tyrion knows how to play something. And Balerion has to like him." That condition we can both agree on.
"Those are very fair terms," My sister holds a hand over her mouth to hide the amused smile. "What about the rest of you, what do you demand in your future husbands?"
Arianne and Obara take the time to consider it over the game of stones the two are playing, Sarella however needs no such time to decide. "He needs to be smart… and take lots of baths."
"I won't marry a man Father can defeat." Counters my second eldest Nymeria and I can only smile at the false belief. It will not be me who faces your eventual suitors, you are well on your way to having the skill to do so yourself.
"What about you Tyene, what's most important in a suitor?" Elia asks the most shy of my four girls with a welcoming voice. Tyene and Sarella have only seen my sister a couple times but Sarella is to curious to let the nerves win out.
"Someone fun, I don't want some boring old man." She turns her nose up promptly at the idea.
Obara goes next with prompting from my niece who has yet to make up her mind. "If they can make me laugh, I guess it doesn't really matter who I fall in love with." At least one of you is thinking straight, I'm going to need to speak with your sisters about their priorities.
"Whoever Father decides will be my best match." Grumbles Arianne finally, making my brother roll his eyes at her anger. She didn't like learning how easily Rhaenys and herself could just be given away and will be my ally in sharing the truth of Viserys.
He might just be a boy but after Rhaella's wedding… Viserys will be the last Targaryen left with the name. It may seem like he's given each Kingdom an equal hostage but outside of Dorne he will be the one followed in reclaiming the throne.
Aegon has six years before he is off to the Vale and Rhaenys will be off to the Rock that same year to my sister's grim acceptance. Tywin demands his due and he will ward Rhaenys to ensure she is a fit bride for his son. Though I think it's the first time he's ever called Tyrion that in writing.
"I hope Viserys ends up with a Frey, he'll disappear like he wants in that swarm of weasels." My brilliant comment gains no laughter, only a pair of raised eyebrows from my siblings. "What? That was hilarious."
"No need to lie Prince Oberyn," The voice of Arthur Dayne comes from the door behind me and I whirl about to see him and Ser Gerold Hightower standing at ease. "It was amusing, but your true talents lay elsewhere."
"Ready to finally take me up on that offer?" I waggle my eyebrows suggestively but only get an amused chuckle from the 'Sword of the Morning'. "I've heard your oaths are at an end."
Ser Gerold is quick to correct me with a voice that sounds like rocks are being chewed with each word. "Our vows are for life, no matter what Prince Viserys declared."
"So why are you here, shouldn't you be keeping Lyanna Stark a prisoner off in some tower?" Elia snarls with far more heat than I expected.
"With over forty men and Ser Selmy in Lord Stark's company, it was clear our presence was demanded by our King's side." Now that's exactly what I needed to hear, someone else is going to fight for my nephew. Though I must admit he prestige of crowning him on my own has a certain idiotic appeal.
"What about Whent and Selmy?" Demands my brother with a false calm. "Why aren't they with you if this is true?"
Arthur answers promptly, even as her lifts a giggling Rhaenys into the air for a 'dragon ride'. "Whent has gone to join Ser Darry at Rhaella's side for her child's birth and Selmy has gone with my Sister to Storm's End."
"Who is to care for Lyanna's child?" Growls Elia with venom in each word. "Rhaegar's precious Visenya."
"… She was a stillborn." Gerold takes a second to answer, his eyes locking with Arthur's before doing so.
The Dayne takes over the explanation soon after. "My sister and her new husband are the ones with a child…" He turns his stare to me now and shifts it into a scowl of his own. "It was bold indeed of him to claim her right under my nose. He hopes to have him legitimized and swear himself to Stannis Baratheon's services until we are ready to act."
"You will do nothing that endangers my children!" Elia hisses and seems to tower over us in her rage. "If they want to try for the throne once they are adults grown so be it, but you will not push them back into another war they have no interest in."
Rhaenys hears my outburst as she plays with Sarella and Tyene in the water, the happy splashing coming to an end without myself being aware. Elia though just crosses her arms dismissively and snorts at my rage.
"The only reason my children and I are alive right now is because of Viserys." My sister isn't wrong, but my darling niece and the boy's own mother are the ones paying for his terms of surrender. "He did as promised and kept Rhaenys safe for me. I will not blame a child for my late husband's actions."
"He could have tried harder, instead of throwing her at the littlest Lannister."
Understanding hits Rhaenys over what is being discussed and she ends up being the one to silence me for now. "Is being little bad?" Scrunching her face up in adorable worry soothes my fiery blood. "… Am I bad?"
"Of course you aren't dear, your uncle is just being himself." My brother side steps answering the question with a glare leveled at me. The unspoken insults hang thick in the air between Doran and I, while Rhaenys doesn't seem bothered.
"I don't care if my husband is little," She firmly decides with the same determined eyes as her mother. "Viserys is little and he's nice. Grand Father was big and he scared me."
I'm not going to change a Martell woman's mind once they decide on something, so it's best I get on board now… or at least keep my plotting far more secretive. "So long as Tyrion is nice to you, this doesn't bother you?"
She thinks about it for a little bit longer and comes up with a few more criteria that I will be sure to pass along. "I miss Father singing to me… I hope Tyrion knows how to play something. And Balerion has to like him." That condition we can both agree on.
"Those are very fair terms," My sister holds a hand over her mouth to hide the amused smile. "What about the rest of you, what do you demand in your future husbands?"
Arianne and Obara take the time to consider it over the game of stones the two are playing, Sarella however needs no such time to decide. "He needs to be smart… and take lots of baths."
"I won't marry a man Father can defeat." Counters my second eldest Nymeria and I can only smile at the false belief. It will not be me who faces your eventual suitors, you are well on your way to having the skill to do so yourself.
"What about you Tyene, what's most important in a suitor?" Elia asks the most shy of my four girls with a welcoming voice. Tyene and Sarella have only seen my sister a couple times but Sarella is to curious to let the nerves win out.
"Someone fun, I don't want some boring old man." She turns her nose up promptly at the idea.
Obara goes next with prompting from my niece who has yet to make up her mind. "If they can make me laugh, I guess it doesn't really matter who I fall in love with." At least one of you is thinking straight, I'm going to need to speak with your sisters about their priorities.
"Whoever Father decides will be my best match." Grumbles Arianne finally, making my brother roll his eyes at her anger. She didn't like learning how easily Rhaenys and herself could just be given away and will be my ally in sharing the truth of Viserys.
He might just be a boy but after Rhaella's wedding… Viserys will be the last Targaryen left with the name. It may seem like he's given each Kingdom an equal hostage but outside of Dorne he will be the one followed in reclaiming the throne.
Aegon has six years before he is off to the Vale and Rhaenys will be off to the Rock that same year to my sister's grim acceptance. Tywin demands his due and he will ward Rhaenys to ensure she is a fit bride for his son. Though I think it's the first time he's ever called Tyrion that in writing.
"I hope Viserys ends up with a Frey, he'll disappear like he wants in that swarm of weasels." My brilliant comment gains no laughter, only a pair of raised eyebrows from my siblings. "What? That was hilarious."
"No need to lie Prince Oberyn," The voice of Arthur Dayne comes from the door behind me and I whirl about to see him and Ser Gerold Hightower standing at ease. "It was amusing, but your true talents lay elsewhere."
"Ready to finally take me up on that offer?" I waggle my eyebrows suggestively but only get an amused chuckle from the 'Sword of the Morning'. "I've heard your oaths are at an end."
Ser Gerold is quick to correct me with a voice that sounds like rocks are being chewed with each word. "Our vows are for life, no matter what Prince Viserys declared."
"So why are you here, shouldn't you be keeping Lyanna Stark a prisoner off in some tower?" Elia snarls with far more heat than I expected.
"With over forty men and Ser Selmy in Lord Stark's company, it was clear our presence was demanded by our King's side." Now that's exactly what I needed to hear, someone else is going to fight for my nephew. Though I must admit he prestige of crowning him on my own has a certain idiotic appeal.
"What about Whent and Selmy?" Demands my brother with a false calm. "Why aren't they with you if this is true?"
Arthur answers promptly, even as her lifts a giggling Rhaenys into the air for a 'dragon ride'. "Whent has gone to join Ser Darry at Rhaella's side for her child's birth and Selmy has gone with my Sister to Storm's End."
"Who is to care for Lyanna's child?" Growls Elia with venom in each word. "Rhaegar's precious Visenya."
"… She was a stillborn." Gerold takes a second to answer, his eyes locking with Arthur's before doing so.
The Dayne takes over the explanation soon after. "My sister and her new husband are the ones with a child…" He turns his stare to me now and shifts it into a scowl of his own. "It was bold indeed of him to claim her right under my nose. He hopes to have him legitimized and swear himself to Stannis Baratheon's services until we are ready to act."
"You will do nothing that endangers my children!" Elia hisses and seems to tower over us in her rage. "If they want to try for the throne once they are adults grown so be it, but you will not push them back into another war they have no interest in."
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