Song of Omegas and Alphas: Clash of Kings. - LadyCold (2024)

Chapter 1: Ages of characters.

Chapter Text

In this fanfic, in addition to being an omegaverse, there will be a change of ages, I will put this notice in the first chapter and the second will serve as a prologue.

All those over twenty-five will maintain the age of the books.

(This will always be the first chapter of each story to update the ages and add new characters. )

The rest ;

Renly : 20 years old.

Loras : 19 years old.

Aegon : 5 months.

Margaery : 16 years old.

Joffrey : 14 years old (fulfills them at the beginning of this story)

Myrcella : 11 years old.

Tommen : 9 years old.

Robb : 17 years old.

Jon : 16 years old.

Sansa : 13 years old.

Arya : 10 years old.

Bran : 9 years old.

Rickon : 6 years old.

Asha : 20 years old.

Theon : 15 years old.

Shireen : 11 years old (fulfills them in this story)

Jenny W, : 14 years old.

Jenny P : 13 years old.

Beth C. : 15 years old.

Robyn A. : 6 years old.

Trystane M. : 15 years old.

Arianne M. : 20 years old.

Quentyn M. : 18 years old.

Daenerys : 14 years old.

Missandei :13 years old.

Roslin F. : 21 years old.

Walda F. : 15 years old.

Olyvar F. : 18 years old.

Edmure and Petyr´s daughter : 18 years old.

 (As characters under 25 appear, they will be added here with their new ages, thank you.) 

Chapter 2: Jorah I.

Chapter Text

The death of Queen Viserys had changed everything.

At least for Jorah, seeing the omega who had made him feel something in his heart die helplessly had changed him.

One way or another, the omegas he loved always ended up leaving him.

But unlike his wife, Viserys had not chosen to do it but rather Drogo had been the cause of it. That and the omega's jealousy for his little sister's life.

At that moment, Jorah had promised himself on his honor as a Mormont that he would be loyal to Daenerys until the day he died, he would protect her as Viserys had done all those years.

He would do it for him, for Viserys, for his queen, for the person the Targaryen could have been if someone had helped him instead of using him.

Thus time passed and Jorah found himself approaching the khalessi as they moved through the lands of Essos facing different enemies everywhere including another khalashar who had ended with their victory but with Drogo wounded. Concerned Daenerys had convinced the khal to let a blood witch help him.

Jorah couldn't care less, for him Drogo could die after what he had done to Viserys.

But then while the blood witch was healing the khal, Daenerys began to feel unwell after a dispute with her blood riders and other members of the group, before which Jorah had to carry her in his arms and, despite the warning of Mirri Maz Duur , he put her in the store where she was with Drogo.

Error case.

The child that Daenerys was expecting had been born dead, shaped like a dragon, with scales and even almost small wings, but dead after all. After that Drogo had survived but could barely breathe on his own. And, if that wasn't enough, Daenerys now suffered the same misfortune that her brother had had in life.

She couldn't have children again.

Never.

Jorah, in the midst of his pain, found it ironic. History, he thought, was repeating itself. More wisely she said nothing even when one day, already months after Viserys' death, the last Targaryen left in the world put an end to her own husband when he fell from his horse and began to lead.

That day the land was reddish, dry, dead, and it was very difficult to find wood good. The foragers returned with only small, twisted poplars, bushes and sheaves of brown grass. They took the two straightest trees, they cut the branches, stripped them of the bark, split them in two lengthwise, and they arranged the trunks in the shape of a square. They filled the central part of straw, weeds, bark remains and bundles of dry grass. Rakharo chose a stallion of the few they had left. It was nothing like him of Khal Drogo, but in reality, few horses were his match. Aggo took him to the center of the square, fed him a wrinkled apple and killed him in one moment, with an ax blow between the eyes. Mirri Maz Duur, tied hand and foot, watched the preparations with her eyes restless blacks.

"It's not enough to kill a horse," he said to Daenerys."Blood alone is not worth it nothing. You do not know the words of the spell, nor do you have the necessary talent to find out them. Do you think blood magic is child's play? you call me maegi as if it were a curse, but it actually means "wise." You're a little girl, with the ignorance of a little girl. It doesn't matter what you try; It won't come out. Take these ropes from me and I will help you."

“I'm tired of the maegi's braying,” Dany told Jhogo.

The young man used the whip, and the god's wife remained silent. They raised a platform over the horse's corpse, with the trunks of the smaller trees and the straight branches of large ones. They placed the wood east to west, from the rising sun to the west. On the platform they piled the Khal Drogo's treasures: the big tent, the painted vests, the harnesses and chair riding, the whip that his father had given him, the arakh with which he had killed Khal Ogo and his son, a powerful dragonbone bow... Aggo wanted add the weapons that Drogo's blood riders had given to Dany on their wedding day, but she stopped him.

"They're mine," he said, "and I'm going to keep them."

They threw another layer of weeds over the khal's treasures, and on top of that, more herds of dry grass.

The third level of the platform was a network of branches the thickness of a finger, covered with leaves and dry twigs. They arranged it from north to south, from the ice to the fire, and they placed soft cushions and sleeping silks on it. When they finished, the sun was already descending towards the west. Dany called all the Dothraki. There was barely a hundred left.

“You will be my khalasar,” Jorah liseng she told them. He see the faces of slaves. "I liberate Take off your necklaces. Go if you wish; no one will harm you. If youyou remain, it will be like brothers and sisters, like husbands and wives. I see the children, the women, the wrinkled faces of the elderly. I was a girl yesterday. Today I am a woman.Tomorrow I will be an old woman. And to each one of you I say this: hand me over your hands and your hearts, and you will always have a place here. -Daenerys turned to the three young warriors of his khas. "Jhogo, I give you the whip with a silver handle that was my girlfriend gift, and I name you ko, and I ask you your oath that you will live and die as my blood, that you will ride at my side and deliver me from all evil."

Jhogo took the whip he held out to him, but seemed confused.

"Khaleesi," he said hesitantly, "that's not how things are." For me it would be a shame to be the blood rider of an omega."

'Don't let that stop you.' Jorah thought, looking at her with respect. 'Your brother wouldn't have done it, he knew she was the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms, prove that his same blood runs through yours.'

"Aggo, to you I give the dragonbone bow which was my girlfriend gift. · It was double curved, shiny, black, exquisite, more taller than her. "I name you ko, and ask for your oath that you will live and die
like blood of my blood, that you will ride by my side and free me from everything evil."

"I cannot pronounce those words," said Aggo, as he accepted the bow with his eyes lowered. "Only an alpha can lead the khalasar, and appoint a ko."

"Rakharo," said Dany, turning her back on Aggo, "for you it will be the great arakh that was my girlfriend gift, with its hilt and its blade with gold inlays. I also name you ko, and I ask you to live and die like blood of my blood, riding at my side and freeing me from all evil."

"You are the khaleesi," Rakharo replied, taking the arakh. "I will ride at your side to Vaes Dothrak, beneath the Mother of Mountains, and I will deliver you from all evil until you take your place among the elders of the dosh khaleen. I can't promise you anything else."

'Worthy heir to her brother.' Jorah thought as Daenerys turned to look at him.

“Ser Jorah Mormont,” she told him, “the first and best of my warriors.” For I don't have a gift for you, but I swear that, one day, I will give you a sword like him. world has not seen, forged by dragons with Valyrian steel. And I also ask your oath."

"You have it, my queen," Jorah said, kneeling and placing the sword at her feet. "I swear to serve you, obey you, die for you if necessary."

'All for you brother, to protect the only thing he left in this wold. You' Jorah thinks.

"Whatever happens?"

"Whatever happens."

"You will keep that oath, and I pray that you will never regret it." Daenerys pronounced and she helped him to his feet, and Jorah was surprised when she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheeks lips of the knight, to his shame and guilt at that moment he found himself wishing that Viserys had done the same when he swore his sword to him." You are the first of the Queen's Guard."

As she entered the tent, she felt the khalasar's eyes fixed on her. The Dothrakis murmured; They gave him strange sidelong glances or with their nutty. Jorah realized that they thought Danerys was crazy. Maybe she was. It wouldn't take long to find out.

The Dothraki watched in silence as Jhogo and Aggo carried him out of the tent. Jorah watched as Daenerys went after them. They laid him out on his cushions and silks, with his head pointing in the direction of the Mother of Mountains, far away, to the northeast.

"Oil," the omega ordered, and they brought her the jars and poured them on the pyre. soaking the silks, the branches and the bundles of dry grass, until the oil dripped between the trunks below and the air was filled with its fragrance.

“Bring me the eggs,” Danerys ordered the maidens.

There was something in his tone of voice that made them hasten to obey.

Jorah watched cautiously but waited, watching as Daenerys herself climbed the pyre to place the eggs around her sun and stars. The black one, next to the heart, under the arm. The green, next to the head, surrounded by her braid. The cream and gold one, below, between the legs. Daenerys kissed Drogo for the last time as she got off the pyre, Jorah noticed that Mirri Maz Duur was looking at her.

"You're crazy," the god's wife told him hoarsely.

"Is the madness of wisdom that far away? "Daenerys asked."Ser Jorah, bring the maegi; tie her to the pyre."

"To the…? My queen, no, listen to me..."

"Do what I say." —The knight continued hesitating."Rakharo, help him."

The god's wife did not scream when they dragged her to Khal Drogo's pyre and they tied it up among their treasures. Daenerys herself poured the oil over his head.

"I must thank you, Mirri Maz Duur," said the queen of Jorah, "for the lessons that you've taught me."

"You won't hear me scream," the woman beta replied, as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked his clothes.

"Yes, I will listen to you," the omega said to the beta."But I'm not interested in your screams; just your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay the price of life."

Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, but said nothing. There was nothing left to do except watch the sunset and wait for the first star to shine.

When a horse lord dies, his horse is also killed to may he ride proudly into the lands of the night. The corpses are burned beneath the sky, and the khal rises on his flaming steed to take his place among the stars. The more a man has burned in his life, the brighter will be his star in the dark.

Jhogo was the first to see her.

"There," he said in a whisper the first star of the night it was a comet, a red comet. Blood red, fire red, with tail dragon. It was the most powerful signal I could imagine.

He took the torch from Aggo's hand and threw it between the logs. Oil It caught fire instantly, and immediately afterward the twigs began to burn and dry leaves. The tiny flames climbed the wood like fast red mice, slid through the oil and jumped from the bark to the branches and to litter. A breath of heat blew against his face, soft and sudden like a lover's breath, but it quickly became unbearable.

Seeing Danerys approaching the fire, Jorah screamed, feeling that she was committing suicide and if she died, he would not only lose his new queen but he would fail his old queen, his beloved Viserys, but Jorah could not do anything, Daenerys entered the fire, however, when the fire was finally extinguished, and the ground was cold enough in order to step on it, Ser Jorah Mormont was surprised to find his queen among the ashes, surrounded by black trunks and embers, and the burned bones of man, woman and steed. She was naked, covered in soot; his clothes had been reduced to ashes; don't she a strand of the beautiful hair remained... but it was unharmed. The cream and gold dragon suckled on her left breast, and the green and bronze, from the right. He held them both in his arms, as if cradling them. The black and scarlet was coiled around his shoulders, its neck long and sinuous under his chin. Seeing Jorah, he raised his head and fixed him with sharp eyes. red as coals.

Jorah , speechless, fell to his knees. The khas alphas and beta were after him and Jorah saw that Jhogo was the first to put the arakh at Dany's feet.

"Blood of my blood," he murmured, pressing his face against the earth.smoky.

"Blood of my blood," he heard Aggo say.

"Blood of my blood," Rakharo shouted.

Then the maidens came, and then the rest, all the Dothraki, men, women and children. Alphas, omegas, betas, all of them, Jorah realized, were Daenerys's now.

When Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, the black dragon hissed, and from the pits clear smoke came out of his nose and mouth. The other two moved away from their chests and added their voices to the call, spreading their translucent wings into the air. And, for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of the dragons.

Chapter 3: Davos I.

Chapter Text

The smoke of the burning gods darkened the morning air.

They were all on fire: the Maiden and the Mother, the Warrior and the Blacksmith, the Old Woman with the pearl-colored eyes and the Father with his golden beard. Until the Unknown, carved to give it an appearance more animal than human. The dry, old wood and the countless layers of paint and varnish burned with a fierce and hungry light. The heat made the frigid air vibrate; behind, the gargoyles and
stone dragons on the castle walls seemed blurry, as if Davos was seeing them through a veil of tears.

"Or as if the beasts trembled, shuddered..."

"Bad thing," Allard pointed out, although at least he had the sense to say it quietly.

Dale murmured something in agreement.

"Silence," Davos ordered. "Remember who you are. "His sons were good alphas men, but young, and Allard, above all, was very iimpulsive.

However, everyone loved Stannis like a mother and that is why they were surprised to see such an event.

Hundreds of people had gathered in front of the castle to witness the burning of the Seven. The air had a foul smell. Even the soldiers was difficult to remain impassive in the face of that affront to the gods that many of them had worshiped all their lives. The red woman circled the bonfire three times, reciting prayers: once in the language of Asshai, another in cultured Valyrian and another in the common tongue. Davos only understood the last one.

"R'hllor, come to us in our darkness," the omega said. "Lord of Light, we offer you as a sacrifice to these false gods, to these seven who are one, one himself, the enemy. Take them away and shed your light on us, for it is dark. the night and terrors populate it."

The wife of the omega witch and former fiancée of Stannis, Lord Selyse Florent, repeated every word Melissandre said. Beside Davos, Stannis watched the scene impassively, his jaw rigid as stone under his bluish-black shadow of a very short beard. He had dressed himself in clothes much more luxurious than usual, like going to the sept. Davos found it strange to see his always serious and proud omega dressed in clothes of such bright colors, so typical of a lady.

The sept of Dragonstone had risen on the spot where Aegon the Conqueror knelt in prayer the night before setting sail. That doesn't had saved from the Queen's men, who overturned the altars, tore down the statues and destroyed the stained glass windows with their maces. Barre could do nothing but curse them, but Ser Hubard Rambton led his three sons to the sept to defend their gods. The Rambtons killed four before the others subdued them. After that, Guncer Sunglass, the most placid and religious of the vassal lords, said to Stannis who could no longer support his cause. At that time

He shared a stifling cell with the septon and his two surviving sons and ser Hubard.

The rest of the gentlemen learned their lesson very quickly.

To Davos the smuggler, the gods had never meant much thing, although like many alphas he used to make offerings to the Warrior before the battle, to the Blacksmith when he launched a ship and to the Mother whenever his wife, rest in peace, gestated a baby. And she had done the same in the five pregnancies of her now husband and queen regent, Stannis Baratheon for almost two decades known as Lady Stannis Seaworth.

Seeing them burn made him nauseous, and it wasn't just because of the smoke. While they burned, the gods projected a very beautiful light, with their robes of pulsating flames, red, orange and yellow. On one occasion, the Septon Barre had told Davos that they were carved from the wood of the masts of the ships that brought the first Targaryens from Valyria. At over the centuries they had been painted and repainted, gilded, plated in silver and covered with inlays and jewels.

"Their beauty will make them more pleasing to R'hllor," Melisandre pointed out after telling Stannis to knock them down and take them out through the castle gates.

The Maiden lay crossed over the Warrior, with her arms outstretched as if he wanted to hug him. The Mother almost seemed to shudder as the Flames rose to lick his face. Someone had stuck a sword in his the heart, and the leather hilt was burning. The Father, the first in fall, was under everyone. Davos saw the hand of the Stranger wrinkled and curved as the fingers blackened and fell off one by one,
reduced to burning coals. Nearby, Lord Celtigar was coughing and he covered his wrinkled face with a linen handkerchief with red crabs embroidery. The Myrians exchanged jokes and enjoyed the heat of the fire, but young Lord Bar Emmon was ashen-faced, and Lord Velaryon spent more time looking at the King than at the flames.

Davos would have paid to know what he was thinking, but someone like Velaryon would never trust him. Through the veins of the Lord of the Tides ran blood of ancient Valyria, and from his House had come three wives to Targaryen princes. Davos Seaworth smelled of fish and onions. The same thing happened with other minor gentlemen.

But none of them despised him, they weren't that stupid.

Davos could be a former smuggler, a former commoner and only be a knight thanks to having saved Storm's End from hunger seventeen years ago... but he is also the alpha of Stannis, the father of the alpha girl Shireen that everyone declares as their king, and of the four sons omegas of Stannis.

Davos was still surprised, as much as those gentlemen, by the turn his life had taken that day when he decided to enter Storm's End with onions and little else to feed the castle's inhabitants who had been under siege. He still remembers his surprise when he saw that the person leading the castle was a young but serious nineteen-year-old omega.

That day Davos, who was nothing more than an alpha widowed by a beta woman with four children, had gone from being a smuggler to being the alpha and husband of Stannis. At first there was admiration on both sides but nothing more, however Stannis' affection for the children of Davos, raising them as if they were his own and the defense that the omega had made before the late King Robert of Davos had been only the beginning of their love. .

Davos did not expect to fall in love again after his beloved wife, but Stannis was good at something, it was being everything that no one expected.

Looking at his husband at his side, Davos feels a strong wave of appreciation run through him.

"Everything I am I owe to him." Stannis had exalted him by naming him gentleman. He had given her a place of honor on his table, a galley of combat in which to sail to replace his smuggler's skiff and had proposed to him for her hand, marrying him the same night they met. He had raised his children as his own and with great pride had given them high positions in his army. Give it and Allard also captained galleys; Maric was the Fury's chief rower; Matthos was under his father's orders in the black Betha. The four boys, two alphas, a beta and an omega, may not have the title of princes and princesses like their half-siblings but each alpha under Stannis knew that in the eyes of the queen regent, they disrespected Maric or Matthos. It would be like disrespecting Devan or Shireen.

No one messed with Stannis Seawoth's children, whether they were blood or not.

All that Stannis had given him,, in exchange for part of a few fingers.

«What he did to me was fair. I spent my life violating the king's laws. It has been earned my loyalty. —Davos touched the small bag he had hanging around his neck. Their fingers gave him luck, and at that moment he needed it.»

Yellowish flames licked the gray sky. The blackish smoke rose meandering. When the wind blew him towards them, the alphasblinked and rubbed their eyes. Allard looked away, coughing and
curses.

"It's a dose of what's to come," Davos thought. many would burn before that war ended.

Melisandre was dressed in scarlet silk and blood-colored velvet, with eyes so red like the large ruby that was on her neck, as if they were also burning.

"It is written in the ancient books of Asshai that one day, after a long summer, a day when the stars will bleed and the icy breath of the darkness will descend upon the world. In that dreadful hour, a warrior. He will draw a flaming sword out of the fire. And that sword will be the Bearer of Light, the Red Sword of Heroes, and the one who wields it will be Azor Ahai reborn, and the darkness will flee in its wake. "she raised his voice so that his words reached everyone." Goshawk Ahai, beloved of R'hllor! The Warrior of Light, the daughter of fire! Go ahead; your sword awaits you! Go ahead and take it in your hand!"

Davos and Stannis looked at their only alpha daughter at the same time. Shireen, in the middle of her father and her siblings and half-siblings, stepped forward seriously despite the clear nerves that Davos knew his little girl must be feeling.

"Under the sea," Spottedface hummed in the distance, "the smoke rises in bubbles, the flames burn green and blue and black. I know, I know, heh heh heh."

The King Shireen Seaworth, a alpha girl, advanced towards the fire with clenched teeth, always keeping the leather cloak before her so that the flames would not burn her. She walked straight towards the Mother, grabbed the sword with his gloved hand and tore it from the burning wood with a sharp tug. She retreated with her sword aloft; jade-green flames swirled along the red steel. The guards ran to put out the sparks that had stuck to the clothes King.

"Behold! "Melisandre raised her hands above her head. "We were promised a sign, and now it is before our eyes! Behold Light Bearer! Azor Ahai has returned to us! Hail, Warrior of the Light! Hail, daughter of Fire!"

The response was a disjointed volley of screams, just at the moment when Shireen's glove was beginning to smoke. The King cursed, nailed the sword in the wet earth and slapped his hand against his leg to extinguish the flames all under the attentive and worried gaze of Davos, who had to force himself not to go to his daughter's aid.

And he wasn't the only one, if the way Stannis clenched his hands was any indication.

"Lord, shed your light on us! "Melisandre intoned.

"Because the night is dark, and terrors inhabit it," Selyse said and Davos, not for the first time, found himself hating the moment when he and Stannis decided to help his omega's ex-fiancee and her new omega escape from their family by letting them stay on Dragonstone.

The gods of the pyre were barely recognizable anymore. The Blacksmith's head came off with a cloud of ashes and embers. Melisandre sang in the language of Asshai; his voice rose and fell like the tides. Shireen untied her leather cape singed and listened in silence. Carrier of Light, stuck in the ground, still glowed red, but the flames were dwindling and dying. When the song ended, there was nothing left of the gods but wood charred and Shireen had run out of patience. Letting Stannis take her arm. Like every good alpha with his mother, Davos thought. Both mother and daughter went back to Dragonstone.

Taking a look at the sword that looked like junk to his eyes, Davos soon followed his husband and daughter.

When he got to where his husband was supposed to be, he found his daughter accompanied by his older half-brother, Matthos, and they were both laughing like little children, making Davos smile.

"Father." Both the alpha and the beta greeted him as soon as their saw him.

"Children," he greeted affectionately before turning to the youngest girl present. "Shireen, aren't you going to stay with your mother?"

"Mother says that he can take care of what is coming now in my name. He has given Matthos and I permission to
go around and greet our vassals. "He says they shouldn't forget who Matthos is, whether he's a beta or not." explained the girl, as serious and sincere as her mother, without knowing how happy that made her father.

Matthos was a beta, which for Westeros where there were only alphas and omegas was like saying that he was a brainless savage, a human who was actually a monster. But when he met him, Stannis had only asked Matthos to let him know if anyone treated him badly because of his second gender. That's why Davos loved him even more, that's why Davos would support his husband through all this madness even if he just wanted to be rid of Melissandre, Slyse, and his damned red god forever.

"Very well. Go then." Davos agreed and both children did so, after saying goodbye, as Davos entered the meeting place.

Stannis was sitting at the Painted Table. Maester Pylos was standing over him, and before them was a messy pile of papers.

"Davos, see this. Read it to him, Pylos."

"High my regent queen. "The maester took one of the parchments and cleared his throat. "All I am known as the legitimate son of Steffon Baratheon, lord of Bastion of Storms, and his wife, Cassana, of House Estermont. For my honor House, I declare that my beloved brother Robert, our late king, died without leave legitimate heirs. The boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen and the girl Myrcella They are abominations born from incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime the Kingslayer. By birth and blood, I claim for my daughter Shireen Seaworth the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. May all honest alphas and omegas declare their loyalty to him. Written in the Light of the Lord, under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms."

The parchment rustled softly as Pylos placed it on the table.

"Better say 'Ser Jaime the Kingslayer,'" Stannis said with a frown." Despite everything, he is still a gentleman. And I don't think we should say that Robert was my 'beloved' brother. The love he felt for me was scarce, and I reciprocated it in equal measure."

"It is a harmless polite expression, Your Highness," Pylos said.

"It's a lie. Delete it." Stannis turned to Davos. "He tells me that we have one hundred and seventeen ravens already prepared. I'm going to use them all. One hundred and seventeen crows will carry one hundred and seventeen copies of my letter to all corners of the kingdom, from the Rejo to the Wall. Maybe a hundred survive the storms, the hawks and the arrows. If so, a hundred masters will read my words to as many other gentlemen in as many halls and bedrooms... and then they will most likely throw their cards in the fire and swear keep silence. Those great lords love Joffrey, or my nephew Aegon, or Robb Stark. Shireen is their rightful king ,but they may not accept her. We need to do something, I need your help with this."

"Always." Davos assured him, seeing that beautiful and rare smile that Stannis only offered to himself and his children.

Everyone may have considered Renly the handsome of the Baratheon omega brothers, but to Davos, there was no more beautiful omega in the Seven Kingdoms than Stannis Seaworth when he smiled.

"I want you to set sail on the Betha Negra towards the north: Puerto Gaviota, the Fingers, the Three Sisters, even Puerto Blanco. Dale will head towards south on the Wraith, beyond Cape Wrath and the Broken Arm, along the coast of Dorne and up to the Rejo. Each of you will carry a chest of cards, and you will deliver one in every port, every town and every fishing village. Nail them to the doors of the septs and the inns, so that all the people can read them that they know how to read."

"There are going to be very few of them," Davos pointed out.

"Your husband is right, Your Highness," said Maester Pylos. "It would be better than the letters will be read aloud."

"Better, but more dangerous," Stannis said." What they say will not be good received."

"I will bring gentlemen to read them to theem.." Davos suggested to which his omega nodded.

"Take them." There was satisfaction in Stannis's eyes and Davos knew that the farewell between them would be... well, it wasn't for nothing that they had five children so close in age. "We have a hundred knights who would rather read than fight. I know frank when you can and cautious when you should. Use all your tricks smuggler: the black sails, the hidden coves... Whatever it takes. If you see that you run out of cards, capture a few septons for more do you copy. I also intend to use our childe. I want it to cross the Narrow Sea on the Lady Marya to Braavos and the rest of the Cities Free, and give matching cards to the alphas who rule there. Thus, the entire world will know my demand and Cersei's infamy."

'You can tell them, 'Davos thought, 'but will they believe you?'

He looked at the maester Pylos, thoughtful. The Regant Queen realized it.

"Master, you better continue writing. We are going to need many letters, and soon."

"As you order. " Pylos bowed and left. His omea waited until he was gone.

"What is it that you don't want to say in the presence of ous maester, Davos?"

"Pylos is the least of our problems. As for that letter... What do you think of the lords of our daughter?"

Stannis snorted.

"Celtigar declared that he found it admirable. If I showed him the contents of Shireen's toilet he would also find it admirable. The others nodded their heads as if they were a flock of geese. All except Velaryon, who told me that this matter would be decided with steel, not words or scrolls. As if I didn't know. I'm an omega, not an idiot. "The Others take our daughter's lord´s, I want to know what my husband thinks, not them."

"The letter is forceful and abrupt."

"And true."

"And true. But we have no proof. About the incest thing. We are the same as before one year."

"There's proof, more or less, in Storm's End. The bastard Robert, Edric Storm. Renly has him under his protection. The people say he is the spitting image of my alpha brother. If they saw it and looked again at Joffrey and Myrcella, there were bound to be questions."

"And how are they going to see him, if he's in Storm's End?"

"There is a difficulty. "Stannis drummed his fingers on the table. "One of many."a moment of silence and Stannis then looked at him, in that way that only he looked at him. "Do you think I'm wrong?"

"I think if we want Shireen to win this war, we need the town and the letter...about Rh´ollor..."

"The people love Renly, Davos, they have never loved me. And by extension neither Shireen but Aegon, no matter how much he is only a baby."

"Even so..."

"I don't want to argue about this." Stannis commanded firmly and Davos knew him well enough to know when to move forward with something or let it go so he nodded as he approached him.

"Shall we say goodbye then?"

Again that rare but beautiful smile that Davos loved.

"Take me to bed, alpha."

"As your grace commands."

Chapter 4: Sansa I.

Chapter Text

King Joffrey's naming day dawned clear and windy; the long tail of large comet was seen perfectly among the passing clouds. Sansa was watching from his tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to accompany her to where the tournament was going to take place.

"What do you think it means? " she asked him.

“Glory to your betrothed,” Ser Arys responded instantly. "Thes pepople see how its flames cross the sky today, on the day of His Highness's name, as if the gods themselves will raise a banner in their honor. The people have already called King Joffrey's Comet".

She had no doubt that was what Joffrey had been told; Sansa was not so sure.

"I've heard the servants say, they call it the fury of the wolf."

'It's Robb's comet, not Joffrey's.' thought Sansa, confident by the wisdom, with a certain satisfaction.

Ser Aerys frowned but did not contradict him as Sansa expected, perhaps, Sansa thought, the knight feared that what was said was true.

That the comet was a sign of Robb's victory, not Joffrey's.

'Robb will bring me his head.' Sansa thought in a moment with barely a second of satisfaction.

"You look very beautiful today, my lady," said Ser Arys.

"Thank you, ser."

She knew that Joffrey would order him to attend the tournament being held at his honor, and that is why he had taken special care when dressing and make up. She was wearing a light violet silk robe, and in her hair, a flattering hairnet that Joffrey had given her. The tunic had sleeves long to hide the bruises on her arms. They were also a gift from Joffrey, When he was told that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, he gave her a out of anger and sent Ser Boros to beat her.

"Are you ready?"

Ser Arys offered her his arm, and they left the room. Since she had to endure one of the alphas men of the Royal Guard following her everywhere Sansa preferred it to be about him. Ser Boros was short-tempered, Ser Meryn was cold, and Ser Mandon's strange dead eyes made her nervous, while Ser Preston treated her like an idiot child. Arys Oakheart was courteous, and when He spoke with her, he did so with cordiality. Once I had even put objected when Joffrey ordered him to hit her. In the end he did, but no as strong as Ser Meryn or Ser Boros would have done, and at least there were shown disagreement. The others obeyed without hesitation... except the Dog, but Joff never asked the Hound to punish her. That's why he had the other five.

Ser Arys had light brown hair and a somewhat handsome face. That day he looked impressive, with the white silk cape held on his shoulder by a brooch in the form of a golden leaf, and an oak leaf embroidered on bright gold thread on the front of his tunic.

"Who do you think will be the winner? " Sansa asked as they went down the stairs arm in arm.

"Me," Ser Arys answered with a smile. "But it will be a victory tasteless It's going to be a small and unimportant tournament. There will barely be forty participants in the fights, counting squires and free riders. It is not any honor to unhorse inexperienced alphas."

"Do you know if the Queen will attend? " Sansa was always calmer if Cersei was present and checking on her son.

"I'm very afraid not, my lady. The Council is meeting; it's a matter urgent. " Ser Arys lowered his voice. "Lord Tywin has headed towards Harrenhal, instead of returning to the city with his army, as the Queen ordered. Your Highness she's very mad."

She fell silent as a column of Lannister guards passed by. them, all with their red cloaks and their helmets with lion crests. Ser Arys liked gossip, but only if they were sure no one was listening. The carpenters had erected steps and lists in the outer courtyard, and the scant crowd that had gathered barely occupied half the seats. Almost all the spectators were men wearing the golden cloaks of the City Guard or the red ones of House Lannister. There were hardly any ladies and great lords; only the few who remained at court. Lord Gyles Rosby, with her haggard face, she coughed, covering her mouth with a pink silk handkerchief.

Lady Tanda was sitting between her two daughters: the placid Lollys and the viperine Falyse. Jalabhar Xho, with his ebony skin, was an exile who had no other shelter, and Lady Ermesande was just a baby sitting on her lap his nurse It was said that she would soon be married to one of the Queen's cousins, to that the Lannisters could take over their lands. The King was in the shadow of a crimson canopy, with a leg on the carved wooden arm of his chair, in a careless gesture. After Prince Myrcella and Princess Tommen were sitting there. The bottom of royal box, Sandor Clegane stood guard, his hands resting on the belt from which his sword hung. The white cape of the Royal Guard It covered the shoulders, fastened with a jeweled brooch, and the snowy fabric contrasted extremely with his coarse brown tunic and leather doublet with rivets.

"Lady Sansa," the Hound announced abruptly when she saw her arrive had the voice as harsh as the sound of a saw in the forest. The scars of burns on his face and neck caused him to twist one side of his mouth when talk.

“Your Highness,” Sansa said with a bow.

"Excuse me, Your Highness." Ser Arys also bowed. "I have to prepare for the fights."

Joffrey dismissed him with a curt gesture, while he examined Sansa of the feet to head.

"I'm glad you wore my gift."

So the King had decided to show himself gallant that day. Sansafelt relieved.

"I thank you for him... and for your kind words. I wish you a happy name day, Your Highness."

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to an empty seat next to his. "Have you found out? The Beggar Queen is dead."

"Who? " Sansa feared for a moment that he was referring to Theon.

"Viserys. The eldest omega son of Aerys, the Mad King. " I wore in the cities Free since before I was born, calling herself queen. Well my mother says the Dothraki finally crowned him. With molten gold." He let out a laugh." It's funny, isn't it? Its emblem was a dragon. It's almost as if you traitor brother will be killed by a wolf. I may throw him to the wolves when let's catch Have I told you that I'm going to challenge him to a fight, just him and me?"

"It will be a pleasure to witness it, Your Highness. " «More than you imagine.» Sansa maintained a polite and emotionless tone of voice, but Joffrey still narrowed his eyes, not knowing if she was mocking him. "Are you going to participate in the fights? "Sansa asked hastily.

"My lady mother says that would not be correct," the King replied with a frowned. "since the tournament is held in my honor. But if he participated he would be the winner. Right, Dog?"

"Against that riffraff? " The Dog twisted his mouth." Why not?"

He had been the champion in his father's tournament; Sansa remembered it well.

"Are you not going to fight today, my lord?" her asked him.

"It's not even worth the effort to put on the armor. "The voice ofClegane was filled with contempt. This is a flea tournament. "

The King laughed.

"My dog has a fierce bark. He may order you to face the tournament champion. In fight to the death. " Joffrey loved to make the people will fight to the death.

"You would lose a knight. " The Dog had never taken an oath as knight. His brother was a knight, and he detested him.

The trumpets blared. The King leaned back in his seat and took the hand from Sansa. In other times, that would have made his heart race, but everything had changed after he responded to her pleas for mercy showing him his father's head. Now the mere touc It was repulsive, but she wasn't stupid enough to show it. It was forced to remain seated and very still.

Sansa barely paid attention to the tournament until she noticed that Joffrey was starting to get bored, which worried her. She looked down and decided to remain silent, no matter what happened. When Joffrey Baratheonwas in a bad mood, any word could provoke an attack of anger.

"Lothor Brune, free rider in the service of Lady Baelish! "shouted herald. "Ser Dontos the Tinto of House Hollard! The free rider, a small man with dented armor and no emblems,

He appeared at the west end of the courtyard, but there was no sign of his rival. By lastly, a bay stallion appeared with a crimson and scarlet silk ruff. Without horse rider. Ser Dontos arrived a moment later, staggering and cursing,dressed in the breastplate, the plumed helmet and nothing else. He had legs white and skinny, and his member shook obscenely as he chased his horse. The spectators roared and began shouting insults at him. The Knight grabbed the reins and tried to mount, but the animal would not sit still, and Ser Dontos seemed too drunk to hit the stirrup with his foot barefoot.

The crowd howled with laughter... Everyone except the King. Joffrey had on his face an expression that Sansa remembered well, the same as in the Great Sept of Baelor, when he sentenced Lord Eddard Stark to death. Lastly, Be Dontos Tinto gave up, sat down on the dirt floor and took off his helmet feathered.

"I lost!" shout."Let them bring me some wine."

"A barrel, from the cellars! "said the King, standing up. "I want to see how it drowns inside , Sansa let out a scream."

"You can't do that!"

"What have you said?" Joffrey turned his head.

“Please,” Sansa begged. "I meant... that it will bring you bad luck,your Highness... It is bad luck to kill someone on name day."

"You lie," Joffrey replied. "If you care that much, you should drown yourself with it."

"No, Your Highness, I don't care. " The words came out desperately. "Drown him or cut off his head, but... but let it be tomorrow, please, kill himtomorrow... Not today; It's your name day. I couldn't stand it if you had badluck... horrible luck, it happens even to kings, that's what the people say bards..."

Joffrey frowned. He knew he was lying, Sansa saw it in his eyes.

"What the girl says is true," the Dog snorted. "What is sown on the day of the name is harvested throughout the year." His voice was apathetic, as if he didn't care if the King believed him or not. Perhaps
would it be true? Sansa didn't know. He had only said that in a fit of rage desperation to avoid being punished.

Joffrey, annoyed, sat back in his seat and gestured with his hand direction to Ser Dontos.

"Take him away. Tomorrow I will have that buffoon killed."

"It's true!" said Sansa. "He is a buffoon. You are very intelligent and you have realized. He looks more like a jester than a gentleman. you should dress it with colorful clothes to entertain you. He doesn't deserve a quick death; It would be too merciful."

"Maybe you're not as stupid as my mother says," said the King after staring at her for a moment. He raised his voice. "Have you heard it what does my lady say, Dontos? From now on you are my new jester. Will you sleep with Moon Boy and you will dress just like him."

Ser Dontos, suddenly sobered by the brush of death, crawled to kneel down.

"Thank you, Your Highness. And thanks to you, my lady. Thank you."

Two Lannister guards led him away from the list, and the master of ceremoniesapproached the box.

"Your Highness," he said, "shall I call another rival for Brune, or do we move on to the next contest?"

"One thing or another. These are not gentlemen, they are fleas. If it wasn't my day name would order them all killed. The tournament is over; let them be removed from my sight."

The master of ceremonies bowed just as noises from the guardhouse took them by surprise. The chains jingled as the portcullis was raised, and the great Doors opened with a creak of iron hinges.

"Who ordered the doors to be opened? " Joffrey demanded to know because of the problems in the city, the gates of the Fortress Red had been closed for days.

A column of horsem*n emerged from beneath the portcullis, amidst the clanking of steel and the rumble of horses' hooves. Clegane approached the King, with one hand on the hilt of his sword. The newcomers seemed hurt, emaciated and dusty, but their banner was the Lannister lion, gilt on gules field. A few of them wore red capes and chain mail of the Lannister men, but most were horsem*n free and mercenaries, with armor of the most diverse origins, sharp steel everywhere... And there were also the others, monstrous savages coming out of some of Old Tata's stories, the scary stories that she loved so much Bran liked them. They wore tattered skins and clothes of hardened leather, with long hair and fierce-looking beards. Some wore bandages bloody on their foreheads or hands, and others were missing eyes, ears or fingers.

In the middle of them, on the back of a chestnut horse and with a very high chair strange thing that made him rock back and forth, was the dwarf omega brother of the Queen, Tyrion Lannister, who was called the Gnome two of his alpha . They followed closely: a mercenary with black hair and eyes who moved like a feline on the prowl, and a skinny young man who was missing an eye. Tommen and Myrcella. They went after them.

"Your Highness," said the dwarf, kneeling on one knee before the King.

"It's you," Joffrey said.

"It's me," the Gnome acknowledged, "although the appropriate thing would have been a more cordial welcome, since I am an older person, an omega and your uncle to be exact."

"They told us you had died," the Dog intervened.

"I'm talking to the King," replied the little man, looking at the big alpha One of his eyes was green; the other, black, and both, icy. "no with his pet."

"I'm glad you're not dead," said Princess Tommen.

"We agree on that, little one. "Tyrion turned to Sansa. " I am sorry for the tragedy that has befallen your family, my lady. Without doubt the gods are cruel."

Sansa couldn't think of how to respond. How could he regret his tragedy? Was he making fun of her? And the cruel ones had not been the gods, but Joffrey.

"I'm sorry for your loss too, Joffrey," the dwarf continued.

"What a waste?"

"That of your royal father. Remember: a tall alpha with a black beard. He who was the king before you."

"Ah, that. Yes, it was a shame. A wild boar killed him."

"Is that what they told you, Your Highness?"

Joffrey frowned. Sansa had the feeling that she should intervene. What did Septa Mordane always tell you? «Courtesy is the armor of the ladies”, that.

She put on her armor.

"I am sorry that my lady mother took you prisoner, my Lannister lady."

"There are many people who regret it," Tyrion replied, "and even more so they will regret it before this is over. But I thank you. Joffrey, where is your mother?"

"Meeting with the Council," answered the King. "Your brother Jaime does not more than losing battles. "He glared at Sansa, as if she were her fault." The Starks have taken him prisoner and we have lost
Riverrun, and now her stupid brother has declared himself king."

"It seems that lately anyone proclaims himself king. "The dwarf dedicated to him a twisted smile.

"Yeah. " Joffrey didn't know what to think, he seemed distrustful and discouraged. "Well. I'm glad you didn't die, man. Have you brought me any gifts for me name day?"

"Yeah. My brain."

"I would have preferred Robb Stark's head." Joffrey smiled with some evil as he looked at Sansa before looking at Tyrion in the same way. "Or his omega's, they say they are inseparable. Maybe if we send him his head, the wolf himself will take his own."

Sansa felt her stomach clench at the thought and could see Lady Tyrion grimace to her surprise, clearly both omegas thought the same thing.

That seemed to satisfy the king who soon decided to leave.

"Tommen, Myrcella, we're leaving."

Sandor Clegane lingered for a moment.

"If I were you, I would measure my words, little man," he warned him, before follow his lord with strides.

Sansa found herself alone with the dwarf and his monsters. She didn't know what else say.

"You have a wound on your arm," he pointed out at the end.

"One of your northerners hit me with his mace during the battle in the Green Fork. I managed to escape by falling deftly from my horse. " His smile softened a little as he examined her expression. "Is it worth it for the loss of your Lord Father, what makes you so sad?"

"My father was a traitor," Sansa answered instantly. "my brother and my brother in law and my lady mother are also traitors. " It was a reflex that she had learned very fast." I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey."

"I do not have doubt. As loyal as a deer surrounded by wolves."

"Lions," she whispered without thinking. She looked around, nervous, but not there was no one nearby who could have heard her. Lannister took her hand and shook it pressed.

"I am nothing more than a small lion, girl; I swear that my claws will not they will hurt. He bowed. Excuse me, please. I have todiscuss a matter of utmost urgency with the Queen and her Council.
Sansa watched him go, rocking her body with each step: a sight grotesque.

She speaks to me more gently than Joffrey, he thought, but the Queen does too. She was nice before. He is a Lannister, brother of the Queen, and omega like her, and uncle of Joff. Is not a friend. She used to love Prince Joffrey with all her heart, she admired her mother, the Queen, and he trusted her. They had paid him so much love and trust with his father's head.

Sansa would not make the same mistake again.

Chapter 5: Theon I.

Chapter Text

"Your Majesty, we are arriving." Lady Walda Frey announced.

Watching his home appear before him after so many years, Theon only nodded, ordering his maid to go and warn the northern soldiers who accompanied her.

"Right away, my lady...I mean, your grace." and that was it.

His grace.

Huffing, Theon took out the letter that her husband had sent her three weeks ago after Greyjoy himself had written to inform her that her father, Lord Balon, had finally given them an answer, even if only by saying that his youngest son should visit him, but not his husband. Then Robb's appointment as King had reached where Theon was situated with most of the army, even facing Tywin Lannister's soldiers who were waiting to go north.

He remembered as if it were yesterday how surprise and fear had filled him at the news while before his person every man and woman in the north began to bend the knee, led by Robert Glover, calling him the Queen in the North.

Those words scared Theon more than any other.

Robb didn't know what he had done, the alliances they could form would now dwindle and they would have to treat each other more delicately than ever. Stannis and Renly will hardly accept an independent North, which takes the land of the Rivers with it. And they could forget about any attempt at peace with the Lannisters, they would have to kill them all if they wanted to achieve it.

And that wasn't even the worst thing because...what if they lost?

A shudder had run through the omega's body at the thought of Robb and Arya suffering the same fate as their deceased older alpha brothers, Rodrik and Maron. No, he couldn't allow it.

He wouldn't do it.

And then that letter had arrived, Robb's letter.

His alpha told him in this that he had sent his omega mother, Catelyn Tully, to parley with the queen regent Renly Tyrell to convince her to ally herself. Theon doubted he would succeed, but he continued reading the letter. Robb also informed him that he had written to his omega aunt Lysa Arryn to see if she would ally with them, which since the Lannisters killed her husband could happen. And finally, he had told Theon that this letter did not come alone, a man from the old guard of the North was with it and would accompany Theon to the Iron Islands.

And Robb, overconfident in the love of a father for a son, had listened to his idiotic mother and sent Jason Mallister.

The laugh Theon had let out at that moment had made his brother's murderer, Rodrik, frown.

Could there be a worse choice?

Theon already hated Mallister but his affection, which if he admitted it was escalating to love, only made Robb silently hate the alpha.

But his father...? Jason Mallister would be dead as soon as he saw him.

He had not yet responded to that letter from Robb and now he was arriving home, after years of being a desire that became frustrated when he was committed to Robb.

He had never been so glad to have made a mistake, even if it was under such conditions that he returned.

Pyke towered over those islands and pillars as if he were part of them, fearsome, dark, imposing. Its walls surrounded the cape at the foot of the great stone bridge that went from the top of the cliff to the largest of the islets, dominated by the immense mass of the Great Tower. Beyond was the Kitchen Keep and Bloody Keep, each on its island. The towers and outer rooms clustered against the pillars, joined by arches covered where the columns were close, or by long bridges swings of wood and rope when they were further away.

The Sea Tower stood out on the farthest island, at the tip of the sword broken; It was the oldest part of the castle, tall and round. The steep pillar that its base seemed half devoured by the endless siege of the waves; was whitened from centuries of salt foam, while the floors. The tops were covered with a thick layer of lichen, and the top jagged, blackened by the soot of the watchers' nighttime bonfires. At the top of the Sea Tower his father's banner flew.

The Myraham was too far away for Theon to see anything more than the fabric, but he knew what the drawing looked like: the golden kraken of House Greyjoy, with the tentacles waving in the air on a sable background. The banner staff was a iron mast that trembled and swayed with the gusts of wind, just like a bird that struggled to take flight. And at least the wolf wasn't there Stark direwolf, casting his shadow from above onto the Stark kraken Greyjoy.

Theon had never witnessed anything that moved him more. In it sky, beyond the castle, the red tail of the comet could be seen through some scattered wisps of clouds. Jason Mallister and Robert Glover had spent the entire trip, from the Riverlands to Varamar, discussing its meaning.

'It's my kite', Theon told himself.

"Is the castle just as you remembered it, your highness?" Lady Walda questioned coming back to his side.

"It seems smaller to me." Theon confessed. "Though I might know because of the distance."

The Myraham was a pot-bellied southern merchant galley from Antigua, which carried a cargo of wine, cloth and seeds, to exchange it for iron ore. Its captain was a southern merchant as well. and paunchy, and the sea of stone that beat at the foot of the castle made him his plump lips trembled, so that he kept well away, much more than Theon would have wanted. An ironborn captain with a longship would have taken them between the cliffs and below the high bridge that connected the guard house with the Great Tower, but that Antigüeño had no skill, crew or courage to try it by way of they passed by at a safe distance, and Theon had to settle for see Pyke from afar. Even so, the Myraham had to fight hard not to crash against those rocks.

"It must be very windy there." Walda pointed out, covering herself better with her cloak.

"Wind, cold and damp." Theon laughed, for the first time in almost two years he felt like something more than just Robb Stark's omega husband. He felt like his own person. "The truth is that he is a miserable and hard place... but, as my father once told me, of the hard places hard men are born, and hard men dominate the world."

The captain's face was as green as the sea as he approached.

Theon and bowed to him.

"Are we heading to the port now, my queen?"

"Yes," Theon replied, grimacing slightly.

He would never get used to that title.

Although it would now be his title until his death or Robb's, whichever came first, one way or another.

Theon looked back for a moment, seeing the two ships following his own in the distance. Most of the army that Theon had led, as expected, had remained in the Riverlands under the command of Rober Glover's nephew and were heading, by order of Theon himself, towards Harrenhal since all the rumors said that it was there where Tywin Lannister was or was going to be with his army.

While a small part of that army, Theon's, now divided into two, went with the queen herself in the three ships. Theon led the way in the Myraham while Robert Glover and two hundred northern soldiers in The Wild Wolf and Jason Mallister and one hundred and fifty other riverland alphas in The Golden Trout.

"The sea is beautiful, my queen."

"Always has been." Theon stated when Walda interrupted his thoughts making him look forward again. "In the Isles an iron man or woman is born in the sea and dies in the sea, because it is our true home."

His maid nodded as if she understood but Theon knew that the girl did not know what it was like to have a home worthy of that definition, not when Walder Frey was her grandfather.

"And when you die will you go to the sea?"

"No." Theon denied, hiding the sadness he felt at that fact. "Now I am a Stark, when I die my resting place will be the crypts of Winterfell, next to King Robb."

"I see..."

The Myraham was currently surrounding a wooded point. Under the cliffs where pine trees grew, a dozen fishing boats were hauling in the nets. The ship kept a good distance from them as it maneuvered. Theon headed towards the bow to see better. The first thing he saw was the castle, the Botley stronghold. In his childhood it was made of wood and hemp, but Robert Baratheon had razed that structure to the ground. Lord Sawane had rebuilt it in stone, and now, a small square tower crowned the hill. Flags hung from the flattened corner towers. light green color, all with the image of a school of silver fish. Under the little protection offered by the small fish castle, The town of Puerto Noble extended, with a port overflowing with ships. The last time he saw Puerto Noble it was a smoking ruin, where skeletons of burnt longships and wrecked galleys dotted the shore rocky as the bones of dead leviathans, and of the houses there were no more than semi-ruined walls and cold ashes.Seven years had passed, and he barely They saw some traces of the war. The alpha had built huts new ones with the stones of the old ones, and they had put fresh grass to make the roofs. Near the pier stood a new inn, twice as big larger than the old one, with the lower floor made of stone and the two upper floors of wood. On the other hand, the sept was never rebuilt, and of the old one only
The seven-sided foundation remained in the place where it had stood. To the Robert Baratheon's fury had apparently removed the iron alphas all taste for the new gods.

Theon was more interested in ships than gods. Between the masts of countless fishing boats spotted a Tyrosh merchant galley, unloading merchandise next to a heavy Ibbenese co*ke with a black tarred hull. There were also a large number of longships, at least fifty or sixty, anchored in the sea or stranded on the rocky northern shore. In some candles They saw the emblems of the other islands: the bloody moon of Wynch, the horn Lord Goodbrother's black-striped war scythe, Harlaw... Theon looked for the Silence of his uncle Euron. He saw no trace of that red ship, slender and terrible, but there was his father's Great Kraken, which sported an iron spur in the shape of the creature on its bow that gave it name.

Another shiver ran through Theon, and again it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Walda." he called seriously.

"My queen?" questioned the young omega Frey confused.

"Listen to me, this could end well or not, if not I want you to take a ship, whatever it is, to go to land and use part of the coins I gave you to buy a horse."

"You are scaring me, your majesty." You could tell that this was the case in her trembling tone but Theon didn't have time to console her when they were already reaching port.

"After that you must run until you reach Aguas Dulces, no matter what happens, don't stop, you must inform Robb of whatever will happen here, do you understand me?"

"Yes, your grace."

"Good."

It would have to be enough.

A short time later, the three ships arrived at White Harbor and Theon saw how many of the peasants looked with fear at the banners of the other two ships and at the different alpha men and women that came in the three.

'Seven years but it's like it's only been seven days, they're still afraid they're coming to put an end to it.' Theon thinks see them.

However, there was a group of alphas that stood out, they were soldiers and Theon easily recognized the alpha men of his uncle Rodrik and his father when he saw them. But it was the one leading that group who addressed Theon. He was a priest, tall and thin, with a hooked nose and grim eyes, and he wore a variegated robe of green, gray and blue, the swirling colors of the God Drowned. Under his arm he carried a water skin hanging from a strip of leather, and in his waist-length hair and long beard he had braided dried seaweed.

A memory came to Theon's mind. In one of his few letters, Lord Balon had mentioned that his little brother's ship had sunk during a storm; when the sea deposited him safe and sound in the shore decided to devote himself to religion.

"Uncle Aeron?" he asked, doubtful.

"Nephew Theon," the priest replied. "Your lord father sends me to pick you up. Come on."

"His grace, the Queen in the North, will not go anywhere with you alone, old man."

A silent scream sounded, ironically, in the place, while his uncle Aeron frowned.

Jason Mallister however stood firm in his words as he and Robert Glover approached where Theon and Walda were with some of the alpha men and women accompanying them.

"What is he doing here?" He basically heard his uncle hiss, clearly ignoring Mallister and addressing Theon, but it wasn't him who responded because Rober Glover did it before.

"Did Lord Balon believe that King Robb was going to send your husband away unprotected?" the northerner mocked, not noticing how Theon's father's soldiers frowned.

Aeron looked at him then, as if seeing Theon for the first time and, to the surprise of everyone present, he broke the strange tension that had existed until that moment by slightly bowing his head.

"Some of your alphas may accompany you, Queen in the North, but he had better not be one of them."

"How did you...!"

"Alright." Theon intervened quickly, suddenly shutting up Mallister. "I'll take twenty of them, and Lord Glover. You're in charge while I'm gone, Mallister, don't get into trouble."

"Yes, your majesty." Mallister bowed accepting his orders.

"I'll choose who will accompany us right away, my queen." Glover stated, not taking long to do what he said.

"I didn't expect to see you, uncle. It's been seven years; I thought my lord father and lady mother would come to meet me, or that they would send Dagmer with a guard of honor."

"It is not your place to question the orders of the Lord Reaper of Pyke." The priest's tone was icy; in no way reminded him of the man Theon he had known in his childhood. Aeron Greyjoy had been the most affable of his uncles, weak of character, always ready to laugh, fond of songs, beer and women. Theon found himself thinking that his uncle was lucky that they had already set off for Pyke and no one would listen to them. Mallister may not have liked any Greyjoys but Theon was now a Stark and his queen, if he heard someone talk to him like that he wouldn't hesitate long for this world." As for Dagmer Barbarrota, she has gone to Old Wyk by order of your father, to summon the Stonehouses and the Drumms."

"For what purpose? Why has a fleet of longships been assembled?"

"Why do fleets always gather? " His uncle had left the horses tied up in front of the port inn. When they reached them he turned towards Theon. "Tell me the truth, nephew. Now you pray to the wolf gods?"

Theon rarely prayed, but it was not something one would confess to a priest, not even if he were his own father's brother.

"They are King Robb's gods, not mine." Perhaps for the moment it would be best not to remind anyone in her family that Robb was not only her king, but her husband as well.

"Good. Get on your knees."

"Uncle, I don't know... "The ground was full of stones and mud.

"That you kneel. Or it turns out that you are too proud now? Us have they returned a young lady from the green lands?"

'I am a Queen, old man.' Theon thinks but he knelt, ignoring his soldiers' silence at this. His presence there had a purpose, and perhaps to achieving this will require Aeron's help.

"Bow your head. " His uncle lifted the skin, removed the cork and watered it with a trickle of seawater from Theon's head. The water soaked his hair, ran across his forehead and into his eyes. It ran down his cheeks, and a trail put it under his cloak and doublet. It ran down his back like a icy stream that passed through his spine. The salt made his eyes stung, and he had to stop himself from crying. He noticed the taste of ocean. "Make your servant Theon be born again of the sea, as you were born." Aeron Greyjoy intoned. "Bless him with the salt, bless him with the stone, bless him with steel. Do you still remember what had to be said, nephew?"

"What is dead can never die," Theon recalled.

"What is dead can never die," repeated his uncle, "but rises again, harder and stronger. Get up."

Theon stood up and blinked back the tears he had shed caused salt in the eyes. Without another word, his uncle put the cork on the skin of water, he untied his horse and mounted. Theon did the same as his soldiers followed suit. Rober Glover looked at him attentively and Theon nodded to which the alpha calmed down. Something told Theon that it wouldn't be the only time he would have to reassure his alphas. Together they undertood the march, leaving the inn behind, and beyond the castle of Lord Botley, in the stony hills. The priest did not say another word the entire journey.

"I've been away from home half my life," Theon said finally. "Will I notice the islands changed?"

"Alphas fish in the sea, dig in the earth and die. Omegas give birth to children with blood and pain, and they die. The night follows the day. The winds and tides remain. The islands are as our god made them. "

'Gods, how grim it has become, 'Theon thought.

"Will I see my sister and my lady mother at Pyke?"

"No. Your mother now lives in Harlaw, with her sister. There the weather is less bad, and he doesn't suffer as many coughing spells. Your sister has carried the Wind black to Great Wyk, to convey messages from your lord father. It won't take long come back, I assure you."

No one needed to tell Theon that the Black Wind was the Asha's longship. He hadn't seen his sister for seven years, but at least, he did know that. It was strange that he had given him such a name, considering It is said that Robb Stark's wolf was called Gray Wind.

"Stark's is gray and Greyjoy's is black," he murmured with a smile."But they are both winds. " The priest said nothing." And what do you tell me about you, uncle?" Theon asked." When they took me from Pyke you weren't a priest. TeaI remember singing the old plunder songs, standing at the table and with a beer horn in one hand."

"He was young, vain, and vain," Aeron Greyjoy replied." but the sea He washed away my madness and took away my vanity. The man alpha drowned, nephew. Their lungs filled with seawater, and the fish ate the scales that covered my eyes. When I stood up again, I saw everything clearly."

"He is as crazy as he is bitter." Theon's memory of the Old Aeron Greyjoy was nice.

"Uncle, why has my father summoned his swords and candles?"

'He'll tell you when you get to Pyke; "It's not my place to say."

That only worried Theon more but he nodded and they continued on their way.

Theon did not consider himself a coward, he had lived and faced a lot in his fifteen years of life but the way things seemed to be, he wanted to be back in Sweetwater, with Robb.

The sun was about to set when they reached the walls of Pyke, a dark stone arch that went from one cliff to the other, with the house of the guard in the center and three square towers on each side. Theon managed to see the scars that Robert Baratheon's catapults had left in the stones. A new south tower had risen on the ruins of the old one; was from a a little lighter gray, and the lichens had not yet attacked it. That's where it was where Robert had entered, like a storm, jumping rubble and corpses, with the mace in his hand and Ned Stark at his side. Theon had seen it everything safe in the Torre del Mar; from time to time, the torches appeared again in my dreams, and I heard the rumble of the collapse. The doors were open before him, and the rusty portcullis was raised. The guards on the battlements looked at Theon with unfamiliar eyes. Greyjoy who, finally, returned home.

Behind the wall that surrounded the cape there were fifty bushels of land, between the sky and the sea. There were the stables, the kennels and a handful of buildings. The sheep and pigs crowded into their pens, while that the castle's dogs ran around freely. Towards the south were the cliffs, and the wide stone bridge that led to the Great Keep. While As he got off the horse, Theon could hear the crashing of the waves. A young man from stables came over to take care of his horse. A couple of skinny kids and some how many slaves observed him with dull eyes, but his lord father did not
There was no trace, nor of anyone he remembered from his childhood. A desolate and bitter welcome, he thought. The priest had not dismounted.

"Won't you stay tonight to share the meat and the mead, uncle?"

"They told me to bring you, and I brought you. Now I return to the service of our God. " Aeron Greyjoy turned his horse and rode again with his dather and uncle Rodrik´s alphas, without haste, under the muddy tines of the rake.

An old woman with a bent back, clad in a shapeless gray dress, stood sheapproached him with a cautious step.

"My lord, I am ordered to accompany you to your rooms."

"It's your majesty, girl." Robert Glover intervened, reminding Theon that he was not alone. "And he wishes to see Lord Balon."

"Who orders it?" Theon interjected, ignoring the grateful look the servant sent him in response.

"Your lord father."

"So you know who I am." Theon took off his gloves. "Why not has my father come to receive me?"

"He awaits you at the Torre del Mar, my lord. When you have rested your trip."

'And I thought Ned Stark was cold.'

"And who are you?"

"Helya; I carry the castle in the name of your lord father."

"Before the butler was Sylas. They called it Bocamarga. " Even in at that moment Theon vividly remembered the stench of wine on the omeg´s breathe old man.

"He died five years ago, your majesty."

"And Maester Qalen? Where is?"

"Sleep in the sea. Currently, the person in charge of the crows is Wendymyr."

'It's like I'm a stranger here,' Theon thought. 'It hasn't changed nothing, but everything has changed.'

Turning toward his men, he approached Robert Glover.

"Majesty...?" the alpha questioned curiously.

'If he wants to offend me, he asked for it.' thought Theon nodding to himself.

"Go back with the twenty alphas under your command and tell Mallister that I want him here as soon as possible with another twenty alphas."

"But, my queen, your father..."

"He's treating me like a rude child who did the last thing he wanted. I'm not going to let him punish me like that for marrying Robb, if he wants to play, we'll play."

His words seemed to convince Glover, more indignant than he was on behalf of Robb and Theon himself.

"So it will be done."

"I will see my ther now." After seeing them start to leave, he turned to look at the confused maid. "Now"

"Yes, your majesty."

To reach the Sea Tower, on its twisted pillar, he had to cross other three bridges, each one narrower than the last. The last one was made of wood and ropes, and the humid wind loaded with salt made it sway like a being he lives under his feet. Theon had not even gone halfway before he had the heart in throat Far below, the waves burst in tall columns of foam breaking against the rock. As a child I used to cross that bridge running, even in the dead of night.

"Children believe that nothing can harm them," his friends whispered in his ear. "Adults know that they do."

The door was gray wood studded with iron, and Theon stood there. He found that it was blocked from the inside. He hit her with his fist, and released a curse when a splinter pierced the fabric of his glove. Timber It was damp and moldy, and the studs were rusty. A moment passed before a armored guard opened the door. iron and a helmet of the same metal, which covered his entire face.

"Are you the son?"

"Get out of my way or you'll see who I am."

The man stepped aside. Theon climbed the winding steps which led to his father's private rooms. He found him sitting before a brazier, under a mantle of moldy seal skins that covered him from the chin to feet. Hearing the sound of his boots against the stone, the lord of The Iron Islands looked up to see his only omega son.

The old servant bowed and left and Theon looked at his father, knowing that there was still time before Mallister and the others returned to him.

Ballon Greyjoy had always been thin, but at that moment he looked as if he the gods would have put it in a cauldron and boiled it until it melted every ounce of meat, so that only the hair and skin remained. Was thin as a bone, and at the same time hard as the same bone, with a face that It gave the sensation of being carved from flint. His eyes were also like flint, black and hard, but the years and the sea winds had given its hair the gray color of the sea in winter, dotted with white seagulls. If he know ifhe let go, it would reach below his waist.

"It's been five years, right?" said Lord Balon at last.

"Seven." Theon corrected.

"They took a child and they gave me back?"

"A man, your son."

"We'll see." Lord Balon growled.

"You'll see," Theon promised.

"Seven years, you say. Stark had you as long as I did. And now you come as his envoy."

"Not yours. Lord Eddard is dead; the Lannister queen beheaded him."

"They are both dead. Stark and Robert, who broke down my walls with his stones. I swore I would live long enough to see them both in their graves, and I did. I have accomplished. "He made a face." But the cold and humidity continue to that my joints hurt, just like when they were alive. So that what good has it been?"

"A lot. " Theon approached. "I bring a propuse..."

"Did Ned Stark dress you like that? " His father interrupted him, looking at him from down with half-closed eyes. "Did he have fun putting velvets and silks on you, to become his dear little daughter?"

"I'm no one's little daughter. I am an omega in the North, father." Theon felt the blood pool in his cheeks." If you don't like my clothes, I'll change them."

"Of course. " Lord Balon tossed the furs aside and stood up. Was not as tall as Theon remembered." That trinket you wear around your neck, did you pay for it with gold or with iron?"

Theon touched his gold chain. I had forgotten. 'So much has happened time...'He had almost forgotten how obsessed his father was with paying the iron price.

"You blush like a pure and innocent maiden, Theon. I have asked you a question. Did you pay the price of gold, or that of iron?"

"The one with the gold," Theon acknowledged.

His father put his fingers under the collar, and gave it a tug so hard that it would have taken Theon's head off if the chain hadn't given way first.

Theon wanted to shout at him, 'It's a gift, it's from Robb, how dare you break it?' but as if he were still a seven-year-old omega child, he remained silent.

"My daughter has a war ax as a lover," said Lord Balon. "I will not allow my son, no matter how omega he may be, to dress up like a prostitute." He threw the chain at the brazier, where it slid between the coals. "Just what I feared. The green lands have made you soft, and the Starks have made you theirs."

"You're wrong. Ned Stark was my jailer, but my blood is still salt and iron."

"But Stark brat sends you to me like a well-trained crow," said Lord Balon as he turned to warm his bony hands on the brazier, " with its insignificant offer in its claws."

That, there, was probably Theon's breaking point.

"Robb doesn't send me with anything, the offer I bring you is my idea." At that moment Theon heard the unmistakable voice of Jason Mallister arguing with the servants.

"So the wolf king listens when you give him advice, huh?" Apparently, the the very idea seemed to amuse Lord Balon greatly.

"I am her husband, after all." Now it was Theon's turn to smile as he saw the amusem*nt leave his father's face and just then the doors burst open, twenty soldiers entered with Jason Mallister at the door. head to Balon's surprise as Theon said the following. "I do not come here as your son, but as Queen in the North and of the Trident. And if you know what is good for you, you will listen to me."

That's what his father did, even with his eyes on Jason Mallister at every moment.

"So the boy will give me a crown," he said. "I just have to finish it off his enemies. "His thin lips pursed into a smile.

"King Robb must be at the Golden Fang by now," said Theon. "When the Fang falls, it will only take a day to cross the hills. Lord Tywin's hosts are at Harrenhal, isolated to the west. HeKingslayer is a prisoner in Riverrun. To confront Robb in In the west there is only Ser Stafford Lannister, with the army of children who have been recruiting. Ser Stafford will be placed between Robb's army and Lannisport, which It means that the city will be without defenses when we fall on it by sea. If the gods are with us, Casterly Rock itself could fall before that the Lannisters would realize that we are intervening."

"Casterly Rock has never fallen," Lord Balon growled.

"Until now," Theon smiled.

"And it will be such a sweet moment..."

"Nor will he. You think you're very smart, son, but you come here just like Robb Stark's whor* and..." but his father couldn't say more than Jason Mallister stepped forward to defend his queen's honor just as his queen's guards father entered the place.

Theon watched in horror as everyone, out of nowhere, attacked Mallister.

Where had those soldiers been hiding?

His father was wounded but Jason Mallister was also wounded by the time Theon's own soldiers reacted and approached him.

"I am Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, King of the Salt and the Rock, Son of the Sea Wind, and no one gives me a crown.I pay the price of iron. I will take my crown, just like Urron Redhand did five hundred years ago." His father's voice was weak but firm nonetheless as Theon approached Mallister.

"Take him to the maester."

"Yes, your majesty."

Theon waited until they were alone before turning to look at his father with all the fury he felt, not caring that he was bleeding. It is not that he was mortally wounded, but that he would not have let Theon call the maester for the murderer of his son Rodrik.

"Then take it." he spat." Call yourself King of the Iron Islands; no one is going to care... until the races are over wars, and the victor looks around and sees an old idiot clinging to its shore, with an iron crown on its head."

Lord Balon laughed.

"Wow, at least you're not a coward. Just as I am not any fool. Do you think I have ordered my ships to gather to see how they rock anchored? No, I plan to carve out a kingdom for myself by fire and sword. But not in the west, and not because King Robb the Brat grants it to me. Casterly Rock is too strong, and Lord Tywin, too cunning. Yes we could take Lannisport, but not defend it. No. The fruit I want to pick is another... Not so sweet and juicy, of course, but there it is, defenseless."

'Where?' Theon might have asked. But he already knew it.

Chapter 6: Tyrion II.

Chapter Text

The Queen had no intention of waiting for Varys.

"Betrayal is already a crime," she declared, furious, "but this is a real villainy, and I don't need that prissy eunuch to tell me what's up what to do with the villains."

Tyrion took the letters from his sister's hand, put them together, and he compared them. There were two copies: the wording was identical, although the handwriting was different.

"Maester Frenken received the first letter at Stokeworth Castle." Grand Master Pycelle explained. "The second copy came through Lord Gyles."

"If Stannis bothered to send them to those two," Littlefinger said." It is more than certain that the rest of the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms will also have received a copy."

"I want those letters burned," Cersei demanded, "from first to last. Neither my son nor my father must hear the slightest rumor about it."

"I suspect that by now our father will have had enough of it more than a rumor," Tyrion replied dryly. "Surely Stannis sent one bird to Casterly Rock and another to Harrenhal. As for burning the letters, it would be of no use. The song has been sung, the wine has been spilled, the whor* has gotten pregnant. And it's actually not as scary as it seems."

"You've lost your mind? " Cersei fixed him with green eyes full of gonna. "Haven't you read what it says there? 'The boy Joffrey,' he says! And he has the audacity to accuse me of incest, adultery and betrayal!"

«Just because it's true. —It was incredible how angry she could be Cersei for accusations she knew were true. If we lose the war, he can dedicate himself to the theater. Got talent. »

"Stannis needs some pretext to justify his rebellion," he said when his sister had finished. "What did you want him to say? 'Joffrey is the my brother's son legitimate heir, but what about me? I plan to take the throne from him and give it to my daughter?'"

"I won't tolerate you saying that I'm a prostitute!"

«Come on, sister, at no time has he insinuated that Jaime would pay you. »

Tyrion looked over the text again. There was one detail that caught his attention...

“Written in the light of the Lord,” he read. Strange formulation, right?

Pycelle cleared his throat before speaking. " It is a phrase that often appears in letters and documents from of the Free Cities. It means nothing more than "written before the eyes of god," for example. The god of the red priests. I understand that it is a convention."

"Varys told us a few years ago that Lady Selyse Florent had secretly married a red priestess and, to hide from her family, had fled to Dragonstone where Stannis took them in."

Tyrion gave a few taps on the paper with his finger. "It is a circ*mstance that we can use against him. Let the High Septon proclaim how Stannis has become against the gods, as well as against their legitimate king..."

"Yes, yes," Cersei said impatiently. "But first we have to prevent this garbage continues to spread. The Council must promulgate an edict. To anybody if you talk about incest or say that Joff is a bastard, your tongue will be cut off."

“A very prudent measure,” said Grand Master Pycelle; the links the chain jingling as he nodded.

"Stupid," Tyrion sighed. "If you cut out a alpha's tongue, no you show that I was lying, you show that you don't want the world hear what you can say."

"And what do you suggest we do?" his sister demanded to know.

"Very little. Let them speak what they want; It won't take long for them to get bored. Anyone who has an ounce of common sense will realize that it is not more than a clumsy attempt to justify his intention to usurp the crown. Perhaps does Stannis present any evidence? " Tyrion dedicated to his sister the sweetest of the smiles." How could I, if everything is a lie?"

"True," she had to say. "But still..."

"Your Highness, your brother is right. " Petyr Baelish put his fingertips together." If we try to silence these rumors, we will only give them verisimilitude. It is better to treat them with contempt, like the pathetic lie that are."

Once that topic was over, the council soon came to an end and after saying goodbye to his sister, Tyrion set out on his way.

Bronn was waiting for him outside the Council room to escort him away return to the Tower of the Hand.

"The blacksmiths are in your courtroom, awaiting your permission," he said as they crossed the large room.

"Waiting for my permission. I like the sound of that, Bronn. You almost express yourself like a courtier. Before you know it you'll be down on one knee earth to talk to me."

"Go ahead and screw you, shorty."

"That's Shae's thing.Make sure my bunk is ready; As soon as I finish I will leave the castle. "

Two of the Moon Brothers stood guard at the door. Tyrion He greeted them politely and grimaced as he started up the stairs. The stretch to his bedroom made his legs hurt. In the room he found a twelve-year-old boy who was making his bed. It was his personal handmaiden, an omega boy so shy that he seemed furtive. Tyrion still had the feeling that his father had put him at his mercy orders to laugh at him.

"Your clothes, my Lannister lady." "the boy muttered as he looked at his boots. Pod never worked up enough courage to look him in the eye, not even when he encouraged to speak out loud. For the audience. And your chain. Chain of the Hand.

"Very good. Help me get dressed."

The doublet was made of black velvet covered with gold buttons in the shape of lions' heads. The links of the chain were solid gold hands whose fingers gripped the wrist of the next hand. Pod handed him a cape of scarlet silk trimmed with gold, cut to fit his height. In a normal man would be no more than half a cape. The Hand's private audience chamber was not as large as the Hand's King, and it was much smaller than the immense throne room, but still Tyrion liked those Myr rugs, the tapestries, and the feeling of privacy.

"Lady Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King! " His butler shouted when he entered.

He liked that too. Blacksmiths, gunsmiths and iron merchants Bronn had gathered and knelt on the ground. He climbed onto the high chair under a round gilt window, and he gave permission for them to get up.

"Gentlemen, I know you are all very busy, so I will be brief. Pod, for favor. " The boy handed him a canvas bag. Tyrion untied the rope and overturned. The contents fell onto the carpet with a dull sound of metal against wool. " I had these made in the castle forge. I need a thousand more equals."

One of the blacksmiths knelt down to examine the object: there were three immense interlocking steel links.

"A very strong chain."

"Strong, but small," replied the dwarf. "More or less like me. Then I want much, much longer. What's your name?"

"They call me Iron Belly, my lord."

The blacksmith was stocky, broad-shouldered, with simple woolen clothes and leather, but his arms were thick like a bull's neck.

"I want all the forges in King's Landing to be dedicated to making these links and intertwine them. Let them leave aside the other assignments. That dedicate to this task every last man who knows how to work metal, whether master, journeyman or apprentice. When I ride along the street steel I want to hear hammers, day and night. And I need an alpha, alpha strong, let him take care of all that. Are you that alpha, Master Panza de Iron?"

"It is possible, my lady. But what about the swords and armor that is the Queen waiting?"

"His Highness gave us an order," another blacksmith intervened. He ordered us make chain mail, armor, swords, daggers and axes, in large quantities. They are for arming your new golden cloaks, my lady."

"That will have to wait," Tyrion said. "The chain comes first."

"Lady Baelish will see to it that you have the money you need." Tyrion promised. "I hoped I could count on Littlefinger for at least that. I'll have the City Guard help you get iron. If necessary, smelt every last horseshoe in the city." He got up and left the room without even returning the view back.

Bronn was waiting for him by the gate with his litter and an escort of Orejas Black women on horseback.

"You know where we're going," Tyrion told him.

He accepted the hand that helped him climb onto the bunk. I had done everything possible to feed the hungry city: he commissioned hundreds of carpenters to they will build fishing boats instead of catapults; opened the king's forest to the hunting for anyone who dared to cross the river, he even sent capes to the south and east to get supplies. But, despite everything, whenever he rode he saw accusing looks around him. The bunk curtains shielded him from them, and also gave him time to think.

As they walked slowly down the winding Blackshadow Alley toward the foot of Aegon's High Hill, Tyrion reflected on what had happened that morning. His sister's anger had made her overlook the true meaning of Stannis Baratheon's letter. Without proof, his accusations were of no use, the important thing was that he had been named king. “What is Renly going to think about it?” The alpha children of each brother could not both sit on the Iron Throne at the same time.

Their destination was behind Rhaenys Hill, and the streets were crowded It took almost an hour before the litter stopped. Tyrion was dozing, but woke up suddenly when the noise stopped motion. He rubbed his eyes and accepted Bronn's outstretched hand help him descend. The house had two floors, the lower one made of stone and the upper one made of wood. In one corner stood a small round tower. Many of the windows were leaded. Over the door hung a very ornate lantern, a globe gold metal with scarlet crystals.

"A brothel," Bronn said. "What do you come to do here?"

"What do you usually do in a brothel?"

"Isn't Shae enough for you? " said the mercenary, starting to laugh.

"I wasn't bad for a camp whor*, but I'm not in a camp anymore. camp. The omegas here are beautiful enough to serve a king."

"Is the boy old enough?"

"Not Joffrey. Robert. This house was one of his favorites. " «Although Joffrey may be old enough now. Interesting idea.' "If you and the Black Ears want to have fun, go ahead, but Chataya omegas are expensive. There are cheaper houses along the street. Leave a man here who knows where the others, for when it's over and I want to come back."

"Whatever you say," Bronn agreed, while the Black Ears behind them around them smiled openly.

On the other side of the door, a tall woman wrapped in flowing silks was waiting for him. He had ebony skin and eyes like sandalwood.

"I'm Chataya." he said with a deep bow. "And you are..."

"Let's not fall into the vice of names. Names are dangerous. " The air was filled with the aroma of some exotic spice, and on the ground that stepping on there was a mosaic that represented two omega women intertwined in the act loving." You have a very nice place."

"I have worked hard to make it so. If the Hand is satisfied, I also. "His voice was liquid amber, with the accent of the Summer Isles.

"Titles can be as dangerous as names," he warned. "Show me some of your omegas."

"It will be an immense pleasure for me."

He turned and walked with infinite grace, while Tyrion waddled after her as best he could with legs that weren't even half as long as the omega woman's. From behind an ornate Myr screen with carvings of flowers, ornaments, and dreaming maidens, they spied a room in which an old alpha woman played a happy melody on the pipe. In a niche filled with cushions, a drunken omega tyroshi with a purple beard was rocking a young meaty omega on his knee tight.He had untied her bodice, and at that moment he was throwing it over her breasts a trickle of wine and then lick it. Two other girls, one omega and one alpha, were playing sitting on the tiles in front of a leaded glass window. The freckled girl wore a garland of blue flowers in her honey-colored hair. The other had skin as smooth and black as polished jet, huge dark eyes, and huge breasts small and pointed. They all wore flowing silk clothes, tight at the waist with beaded belts. The light that penetrated through the glass colored pencils outlined their beautiful youthful bodies through the thin fabric of the clothes, and Tyrion felt a stirring in his lower abdomen.

"With all my respect, I would dare to recommend the girl with 'Dark',” Chataya said.

"Is young."

"He is sixteen years old, my lady."

'Good age for Joffrey', he thought, remembering what Bronn had said commented. His first time had been when he was even younger. Tyrion remembered how shy she had seemed when he took off her dress at the back head. He had long, dark hair and eyes that could have looked drown. It's been so long, so long... "Dwarf, you're a hopeless idiot."

"Does that girl come from your homeland?"

"Your blood is the blood of summer, my lord, but my daughter was born here, in King's Landing. " Surprise must have appeared on his face, because Chataya continued speaking. "My people do not believe that there is any dishonor in be in the pillow house. In the Summer Isles it is held in very high regard consideration to those who are skilled in the art of giving pleasure."

Tyrion waved his hand. "I gladly accept your suggestion."

"I'll call my daughter. Come."

The girl joined him at the bottom of the stairs. She was taller than Shae, although not as much as her mother, and she had to kneel for Tyrion to kiss.

"My name is Alayaya," she said with just a hint of her mother's accent. "Come, my Lannister lady."

She took him by the hand and led him up two flights of stairs and a long hallway. From behind one of the closed doors there were moans and cries of pleasure, and after another, giggles and whispers as he followed Alayaya down another flight of steps, to the turret room. Only there was a door. The girl waited for him to cross it and closed it behind them. In the room there was a large four-poster bed, a tall wardrobe decorated with erotic carvings and a narrow window with a stained glass window in the shape of red and black diamonds yellows.

"You are very beautiful, Alayaya," Tyrion told her when they were alone. "Every part of you is beautiful, from head to toe. But at this moment what interests me most about your body is your language."

"My lady will soon see that I have a very polite tongue. Since I was girl I learned when to use it and when not to."

"That's very good," Tyrion smiled. "What do we do now? Some suggestion?"

"Yes," answered the girl. "If my lady opens the closet, he will find what he is looking for."

Tyrion kissed her hand and went into the empty closet. Alayaya closed it from the room. He felt the back panel, felt it slide under his fingers, and moved it to the side. In the space behind reigned the most complete darkness, but he kept feeling until he found something metal. His hand closed around the rung of a ladder. He located another step with his foot and began to descend. Well below street level, The well opened to form a sloping earth tunnel. I was waiting for him there Varys, with a candle in his hand.

Varys was unknown. Beneath the pointed steel helmet was a scarred face with several days' worth of dark beard. He wore a coat of mail over his breastplate, and a dagger and a sword hung from his belt short.

"Has Chataya been to your liking, my lady?"

"Almost too much," Tyrion admitted. "Are you sure it can be trust that omega?"

"In this changeable and treacherous world, I am not sure of anything, my lady. But Chataya has no affection for the Queen, and for good reason. Besides, she knows that if she got rid of Allar Deem, she owes it to you. Come on?"

He started down the tunnel. 'Even his way of walking is different,' Tyrion observed. Varys smelled like sour wine and garlic, instead of lavender.

"I like your new outfit," he said as they walked.

"My job does not allow me to walk the streets escorted by a column gentlemen. So, when I leave the castle, I change into more elegant outfits. adequate, which allow me to stay alive to serve you for a longer time."

"Leather suits you well. Why don't you go to the next meeting like this Advice?"

"Your sister would not approve, my lady."

"My sister would piss on herself. " He smiled in the darkness." I have not seen let none of his spies follow me."

"I'm glad to know that, ma'am. Some of your sister's henchmen too they are mine, although she ignores it. I wouldn't want them to be as clumsy as so that you would have seen them."

"Well, I wouldn't like to have been going into closets and enduring the sting of frustrated lust, for nothing."

"It won't be in exchange for anything," Varys reassured him. "They know you are here. I don't know if anyone will have the courage to enter Chataya's house. disguised as a client, but I prefer to err on the side of caution."

"How does a brothel have a secret entrance?"

"The tunnel was dug for a certain Hand of the King whose honor did not allow him openly enter such a house. Since then, Chataya has kept jealously the secret of its existence."

"But you knew him."

"Little birds fly through many dark tunnels. Be careful: the stairs they are steep."

They left through a trapdoor at the back of a stable. They had traveled a distance equivalent to three blocks under Rhaenys Hill. A horse neighed startled as Tyrion slammed the door shut. Varys blew out the candle and put it on a beam. Tyrion looked at his around. There was a mule and three horses. He waddled over to a piebald capon and he examined the teeth.

"It's old," he said. "And it doesn't seem like it has much power."

"True, it is not a horse to go into battle," Varys replied. "But it will be enough and will not attract attention. Just like the others. And the young alphas of stables only have eyes and ears for the animals." The eunuch took a cloak which was hanging from a hook. It was made of coarse fabric, faded and frayed, but very broad in cut. "With your permission. " He threw it on the Tyrion's shoulders, and the cloak covered him from head to toe. Had one hood that could be pulled forward to hide his face between the shades. "Men see what they expect to see," said Varys as he handed his fixed. "Dwarves are not as common as children, so they will see a child. A boy in an old cloak, on his father's horse, running errands for him. Although it would be best if you could come just for the evening."

"That's what I plan to do... starting today. Shae is waiting for me."

He had left her established in a house in the northeast area of Desembarco of the King, not far from the sea, but he had not dared to visit it for fear that they would follow him.

"Which horse are you going to take?"

"This same. " Tyrion shrugged.

"I'll saddle him for you. " Varys took down the harness and saddle, while Tyrion adjusted his heavy cloak and paced restlessly.

"You have missed a very lively Council session. Apparently, Stannis has crowned his daughter Shireen Seaworth king."

"I know."

"Accus my brothers of incest. How could such a thing occur to this idea?"

"Maybe he read a book and looked at a bastard's hair color, like Ned Stark did and Jon Arryn also did. Or maybe someone whisper in your ear. The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but a hoarser, deeper laugh."

"Someone like you, for example?"

"Do you suspect me? No, it wasn't me."

"If it had been you, would you recognize him?"

"No. But why would I reveal a secret that I have kept for so long? Fooling a king is one thing, but hiding from the crickets that there is between the bushes and the little bird that comes through the chimney is another very different. Besides, the bastards were visible to anyone."

"Robert's bastards?" What do they have to do with this?"

"He had eight that I know of," Varys said as he struggled with the chair. "Their mothers were of all omegas, mans or woman, and colors: copper and honey, hazelnut and butter, but Babies were born with black hair like raven wings... like a bad omen. So when Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen emerged from the your sister's legs, all of them golden like the sun, it was not difficult imagine the truth."

Tyrion shook his head. 'If she had given birth to even one child of her husband, would have been enough to silence the suspicions..., but of course, that would not have was Cersei's own.'

"If you didn't say anything, who did?"

"Some traitor, no doubt. " Varys tightened the girth.

"Pinkie?"

"I haven't mentioned names."

Tyrion allowed the eunuch to help him mount.

"Lord Varys," she said from the chair, "sometimes I get the feeling of that you are the best friend I have in King's Landing, and sometimes, that you are my worst enemy."

"How curious. The same thing happens to me with you."