Winterfell, The North - A Few Days After Tywin's Arrival
Tension existed all day and night in the dark winter castle that was the home of the Starks as many houses had to share a roof, despite the bad blood existing between them. Everyone tried their best to avoid one another and that helped as long as they did not have war meetings.
The reason they did not so far, was simply the fact that Visenya had yet to arrive with the rest of the reinforcements. The days were passing and the worry in the Lions was only increasing, as there was no news of her or her progress.
At long last, in the middle of the day; a scout rushed to report of an upcoming Westerosi army approaching. The exact number of soldiers could not be given but it was a big number, big enough to scare the Northern Scout.
The only one that never panicked was Bran, who had used his warging abilities to see through the eyes of a raven. He saw the banners and the people leading the army, recognising them all; especially a certain Dragon, whose story he had deeply explored when he was going through the past.
After he had reassured them, many had started to gather at the walls and the wooden bridges; curious to see their latest guests. From the few that moved to stand at the wall for a better view, were the Lion pride.
They were not the only ones as somewhere along the same wall, Daenerys with her two trusted knights and Tyrion stood; curious to see what was going on.
They narrowed their eyes as the first banners could be seen in the distance, as the army moved at a steady pace. There were the familiar signs of the Tyrell Rose and even the speared sun of the Martells.
There were, amongst them, banners of smaller houses that some could be recognised and some could not.
Like the banner of a Green Dragon biting its tail on a field of gold, the sigil of House Toland from Dorne or the banner of a black vulture with a pink infant in its claws on a field of yellow; the sigil for House Blackmont of Dorne.
"Are those...Dornish Houses?" Trystan asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at seeing them among the crowd; if not making up the majority of the incoming army.
He had been educated in pretty much all the Houses and he remembered all of them, or at least he liked to believe. Considering the vast lands of Dorne or the North and the multiple Houses, he sometimes had trouble remembering them all.
Especially since until the wedding of Myrcella, Dorne was not really a big part of Westeros and the chances of someone encountering any of their houses; were very minimal. Of course, that was unless someone had chosen to visit Dorne itself.
"Yeah..." Jaime confirmed, his attention caught on a particular banner depicting a black and white swan. "Wait...I know that banner..." he mumbled, but it was his uncle that continued for him.
"House Swann of the Stormlands," Kevan said, a small smirk upon his lips as he saw a few other familiar banners. Like the sigil of a white great-horned owl on a field of grey or the ten black pellets on a field of scarlet. "I see also House Mertyns and House Cole," he continued, proud that his memory of the houses was still quite sharp. Although in his defence, he had fought side by side with men from those Houses and he remembered. "Looks like Visenya managed to bring them into this game as well," he glanced at his brother.
Tywin had his hands behind his back, looking ahead as more and more men were becoming visible and kept covering the ground; coming closer to the castle. His eyes went to all the banners, recognising every single one of them; including the Dornish ones.
He narrowed his eyes faintly, expecting that the Dornish Prince would have joined; but he was not in the mood to see him. Let alone be reminded that at least for a month, Visenya was fully around him as the allies were gathering.
His fingers closed into tight fists, his jaw clenched but he did not say anything directly. He took a moment to just glare hard at where he speculated Oberyn to be in that organized chaos.
However, his anger seemed to subside upon a familiar but also unfamiliar sigil being presented and moved to the very front of the army. It was a split banner, consisting of two House sigils; similar to how Cersei's children had one.
This one though, was slightly different from theirs.
One half had a black field with the familiar Three-Headed Targaryen Red Dragon and the other half had a field of red with the Golden Lannister Lion on it. Both sigils covered an equal half of the banner, being separated diagonally by a single golden line.
"That is not a Lannister banner," Jaime pointed out, frowning his golden eyebrows in confusion.
He glanced at his Father, seeing a small smirk forming on his lips as his chest puffed with pride.
"No, it is not. This is your mother's personal sigil," he informed them.
"Mother has her own sigil?" Trystan repeated, surprised by the revelation. He looked at his uncle Kevan, who gave a faint head nod; proof that he already knew about it.
"Of course she does," Tywin commented, as if it was obvious enough.
Though, truth be told, not all noble women had the chance to have their own sigils; most did not need them. Very few had ever been the exception, with even fewer actually showing those banners in an army; letting it be carried by soldiers.
However, Visenya was not like any other woman; noble or not. She had more than enough right to have her own sigil, although she never truly showed it to anyone; until now.
"Your mother and I came to this agreement and the creation of her personal banner, to be used after my passing. A sign that she no longer had, by law, to carry my House name alone and could officially be Visenya Targaryen Lannister," Tywin continued, filling in his sons.
Jaime and Trystan exchanged a look, blinking slowly as they were looking at their father. His words made sense, partially but there was one thing that had actually caught them off guard.
"You have talked of what should happen after your passing?" Jaime repeated and his father finally looked at him, clearly not enjoying this game of question and answers.
"Yes," was his answer as he walked towards the steps to get off the wall. "When you participate in as many wars as we have, you learn to plan ahead for scenarios that will happen; whether that is in a few months or decades ahead," he explained as he climbed the stairs first, his family following suit. "Now come, they will pass through the gates soon enough."
As the Lion Pride was talking on the wall, Daenerys with her advisors was listening; their eyes were always on the horizon and the upcoming army.
This is it, Daenerys told herself as she came to realize she would finally be able to confront her aunt, one way or another.
However, when she heard the Lannisters talk; she could not help but lift an eyebrow and look at her advisors. They seemed equally surprised, mostly by seeing the Dornish Houses amongst the soldiers; since Dorne had never truly fought in a Westerosi war except for the Battle of the Trident.
"Well, this will be the first time Dorne has come so North. Kudos to my good-mother for actually persuading them in the first place," Tyrion commented, remembering just how hostile those said Dornish Houses were when they first met him.
"This is a good sign, though, isn't it?" Daenerys asked him, glancing at Jorah and Barristan as well. "More soldiers to help us with this war and I can have a chance to talk to them, persuade them to support me. After all, my brother was married to the Dornish Princess."
Yet, her advisors did not seem to share her optimism.
"I am not so sure, Khaleesi," Jorah said, looking her way.
"Your father..." Barristan cleared his throat. "Your father, during the Rebellion, held Elia Martell and her children as hostages in the Red Keep; to ensure the Martells would fight for him. This made them easy prey for the Lannisters."
"Let us not forget that your brother, Your Grace, was married to Elia Martell but left her behind for another woman; a Northerner nonetheless," Tyrion added as he came to realize something and he looked forward again. "Oh, this will go so well. I am sure of it," he commented sarcastically.
To his surprise, Jorah nodded his head; agreeing with him.
"Indeed. The Northerners killed Prince Lewyn Martell during the Battle of the Trident and Lyanna Stark was the one to charm Rhaegar and make him break his marriage vows to Princess Elia," he explained, for as per usual, Daenerys was not fully informed of the complex civil history existing between the Houses.
"The Martells also hate the Lannisters for what happened to Elia and her children. Tywin Lannister, the one that gave the order is in the flesh here," Ser Barristan added.
Yet, Tyrion shook his head; deciding to inform them of a crucial thing they apparently did not know. Something that was expected, since they were in Essos when it all took place.
"Well, the Mountain that did all those crimes was killed by Prince Oberyn in a Trial by Combat; ironically proving my innocence to the judges," he informed them. "The Mountain confessed to the murder and rape of the Dornish Princess, without pointing a finger at my Father. Thus, I believe, the tensions between the two Houses not to be so great anymore; especially if my good-mother is in the middle of it all."
Just then, the Lion/Dragon banner became visible as its rider moved with a small group through the centre of the army and made their way to the very front. Upon noticing it, they also picked up the discussion between the Lions and were also informed of Visenya's personal sigil.
As Tywin and his family left, they remained on the wall a little longer and the three Westerosi men exchanged a similar look. It was a look that Daenerys took notice of but could not understand, so she chose to address it.
She was happy to see that her aunt still honoured her Dragon family by having the sigil on her personal banners, but it was becoming evident that her advisors did not share her joy.
"What is it this time?" she asked, slowly getting irritated.
Every single thing she saw and thought would benefit her or should make her happy seemed not to be the case. There was this complexity, this faking and toxicity behind almost everything that had started to ruin her mood and also mess with her temper. She did not recall anyone telling her how complicated and complex everything seemed to be in Westeros.
Not even Essos and its nine cities did not have that much complexity in their systems, and that said something.
"You might wish to change your plans, Your Grace," Tyrion pointed out, now fully turning his body to look at her.
"What plans?"
"To try and speak to the lords, earn their support."
As per usual, Tyrion was only speaking half sentences and was not really helping his new Queen to truly understand the situation or even enlightening her. It was, perhaps, one of the few flaws he had as the Hand of the Queen.
At least to this specific Queen, who was rather young and inexperienced with Westerosi politics; considering she grew up far away from it all and was never fully educated on what awaited her once she would place her feet on Westerosi soil.
"What the dwarf is trying to say, Khaleesi," Jorah started, joining the conversation. "It is that your aunt did not choose personally now to lift her own banners. By doing so, she sends you and everyone a personal message."
"That what? She is also a Targaryen and not a full Lannister?"
Jorah placed his one hand on her shoulder and pointed with his finger ahead.
"See where her banner is, Khaleesi. It is right in the middle of the army, at the very front. Any other sigil is always a few steps behind and by her sides, not one riding ahead of hers."
Daenerys took a step closer to the edge of the wall and tried to look, quickly noticing what Jorah was pointing out to her.
"And that means something, right?" she finally asked, looking at the Northern Knight.
He nodded his head.
"In a war, no matter how many great Houses are to join together; there is always one that leads. When Robert Baratheon chose to go against your family, the Northern Houses joined him but it was his sigil that was displayed first. A sign that it was him they were following."
Barristan nodded his head as well, the third time in all those months to actually agree with the exiled knight.
"When your aunt and your brother led the royal army, along with the Martells; it was your family's sigil that was displayed to the very front. Now, it is your aunt's personal sigil at the head of the army."
Slowly, the Mother of Dragons seemed to understand and she spared one last glance at the army; that was close and would indeed soon reach the gates of Winterfell.
"Then that means, all those Houses you saw...they follow my aunt?" she asked, although she was certain that was the answer.
It was Tyrion's turn to butt in.
"If what my father said is true, which I am surprised it is, then it must be," he started, drawing her attention. "My good-mother chose to bring her personal sigil for a reason. It is a sign that the Houses in her army all came together and followed her, not my nephew that wears the crown nor the North that called for their help."
"Can this happen? I thought your nephew was the King and it was his armies that he sends."
"It can, Your Grace," Ser Barristan answered her. "Lady Visenya is not a candidate for the throne. If she was, then those Houses meant they had bent the knee to her and not the Crown. She is not, not anymore at least, and thus she can passively be the one leading the forces; in the name of the boy-king Tommen."
The Mother of Dragons let out a heavy sigh, feeling one side of her head aching from all that information but also from the sudden change of events. For a moment, she truly had plans to talk to the Lords, to try and gain their allegiance so when this Great War was over; she had her supporters for her claim to the Iron Throne.
Now, it seemed that this could not be the case or at least her advisors thought that.
"I will still try. If they choose to follow my aunt, maybe they can follow me. I am also a Targaryen and unlike her, I have claims to the Iron Throne," she said with determination and lifted her chin high, before deciding to also head for the steps.
It was about time to meet her aunt, at least have another silent contact with her but also see where exactly she stood. If her knights and Tyrion were telling her the truth, then it was becoming rather clear that her aunt was not willing to join her blood family in this war; or at least that seemed to be the case.
Yet, Daenerys was not going to give up her tries, not when it was her birthright on the line.
She kept descending the steps, leaving behind her trustworthy advisors to exchange a few looks of worry at her confidence and determination; that could not necessarily be a good thing in that particular case.
Inner Courtyard, Winterfell - The North, Westeros - A Few Moments Later
Once again, Sansa, Bran, Leaf and Jon had gathered at the courtyard, ready to welcome their latest guests and allies. From the Free Folk, Ygritte was close to Jon; curious to see this famous Dragoness that many talked about and even expected; making it quite a big deal.
Tormund was more to the side with most of his men, standing amongst Westerosi men; with some of them being in armour and some in plain clothes.
Arya had remained hidden, choosing to observe from afar and not being spotted yet. She had actually managed to avoid Tywin, although there were a few quick moments when their eyes met but she had left as quickly as she had appeared; and he did not chase to truly speak to her.
There was, though, recognition in his eyes and Arya knew that the Old Lion connected the dots of the secret identity of his cupbearer whom he ironically trusted for weeks while residing in Harrenhal.
Daenerys had also made her appearance, standing close to Jon with Jorah, Barristan and Tyrion by her sides. Missandei and Grey Worm were a few steps back but close by, as were some of her Unsullied.
From her council, Tyrion seemed the most nervous and Barristan the most excited; although it was all well hidden except for this glow in his eyes, as if he was younger by at least three decades. It was not unknown to her, by now, that the older knight knew Visenya personally and that it had been twenty years since he last saw her.
The whole Lion Pride had also gathered at the other side, close to the hosts but keeping a respectable distance; for the sake of ensuring they would not attack one another over old crimes and spilled blood. By their side was Lord Mace, trying to look as mighty and strong as them but failing rather miserably with his belly and his short frame.
At last, the sound of hooves came closer and closer until a few horses made their way through the gate with their bannermen. The very first banner was that of Visenya, followed by the Tyrells, Martells, Tarly, Hightower and Swann House banners.
A representative of each House had entered along with the bannermen.
There was Prince Oberyn Martell, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Baelor Hightower, Lord Gulian Swann and Lord Randyll Tarly. All men had some sort of fur or winter clothing on them, all equally spread left and right of the main leader of this army... Visenya.
She was on top of her black mare, coming to a halt the proper distance from her hosts and allies.
She was dressed in basic armour, with the Lannister breastplate over a red high-neck tunic. She had her lower arm guards and also her cuisses covering her thighs. Her helm was tied to the side of her saddle from one side while her quiver with arrows on the other.
She had her family sword strapped to the right of her waist, the red ruby at its pommel standing out against the rather dark and metallic outfit she was wearing. The most noticeable things, though, were two new additions to her usual battle and travelling clothing.
One was the red and black cape. There was fur around the trim, keeping her shoulders and neck warm as it was clipped to her armour on those particular spots. It was rather long, falling behind her on the saddle and even covering the hindquarters of her mare, while her personal sigil of the dragon and the lion was sewn in a far bigger size on the expensive material.
The other part was the headband made of Valyrian steel that was placed upon her head, wrapping itself around her forehead. Its round bright-red bleeding jewels were not that big but did draw attention, as the accessory gave the passive impression of a crown, but it was not exactly one.
The mighty Dragoness stood in all her glory upon her horse, with all her allies while her army waited outside the gates. She eyed everyone for a moment, her chin held high and there was this emotionless and prideful expression on her face; like a general that already knew the battle had been won before it had even started.
She eventually jumped off her horse with the same grace and agility she always had despite the passing years, her companions doing the same.
Her red and black cape moved but did not remain behind her, since it was designed to fall partially over her left shoulder and arm.
It was a rather royal one, a modification of her previous one to now include both her Houses but also have fur to keep her safe against the winter months. She had it made a long time ago but never saw the reason to use it, until now.
She took a few steps closer to the others, before coming to a halt. Her companions did the same but stood a step behind her. Oberyn and Loras were the ones closer to her, barely half a foot away and each one was making sure to cover one of the two sides; a passive message that they were covering her back and were supporting her.
"Lady Visenya," Sansa greeted first, recognising that the specific sigil was not just for show and it would be wrong to call her Lady Lannister, like all the other times. "Prince Oberyn, Ser Loras," she continued, addressing the other two familiar men.
The Stark girl was the first to look at the older woman, remembering the good times they had spent; although limited. The Dragoness had been kind to her, the words she had told her at the pier staying with her to this day.
She also glanced at the charming Ser Loras. Back then, he did seem quite charming and handsome but now after seeing him; she was not that impressed. Perhaps because she already had found good and pleasant company in another knight, one that she truly found handsome and one she wished to have around her all the time.
"My lord, my ladies," Visenya greeted them all passively, choosing not to address anyone directly with titles.
After all, Daenerys called herself a Queen but the Northerners called Jon their King. Of course, Jon had supposedly bent the knee to the Mother of Dragons, thus no longer could be called a King.
If someone, though, were to try and call them by their original titles; arguments could easily be raised and thus it was wiser to go with the safer approach and refrain from calling out any formal titles.
"We thank you for your alliance and your contribution to this Great War, Lady Visenya," Jon said, lowering his head just a tad to show his gratitude and respect, while also making the mistake of not addressing the other two Great House leaders; whose soldiers made up the biggest portion of the army.
Yet, neither Oberyn nor Loras chose to point that out and instead just nodded their heads in acknowledgement. They easily could have spoken up but realised that was not really worth it since the Stark boy was rather young and inexperienced in certain rules and manners.
"Is this all the soldiers we were expecting to be sent?" Daenerys asked, trying to keep her head high and her voice to sound commanding.
Of course, her voice was not as heavy or mature as the one of her aunt.
She was also rather short for a Targaryen and of course, young. She did her best to seem indifferent, yet she could not stop her violet eyes from going to that band on top of the head of her aunt.
She was not stupid and she could see that it was meant to passively resemble a crown or at least to be worn as one. She also knew that their ancestor Aegon had worn a similar one, but in a far bigger version and one that was truly a crown to admire.
Considering what Jorah, Barristan and Tyrion had told her; she was starting to see better the message they were talking about. The personal banners, the way she was positioned ahead of the men and that band-like crown upon her head; she stood too much like a Queen of her own and the Mother of Dragons did not like what she saw.
She still did keep a more optimistic part of her original plans, to talk to her and somehow persuade her to support her; stopping her from going against her. She wished to do that and would, but was slowly becoming more and more comfortable with the possible scenario that she would have to face her aunt in this war as an opponent and not as an ally.
Visenya stole a glance at the men behind her, who gave the faintest of nods; allowing her to speak for them. After all, they had chosen her as their true representative... as their "Queen." She was meant to show that the Kingdoms already had a Targaryen they would choose to follow, and it was not the young girl that came from the East.
"It is. Twenty-five thousand soldiers from the Reach, twenty-four thousand soldiers from Dorne and three thousand from the Stormlands," she explained, deciding to keep out the few Westerlands and Crownlands soldiers that had been her escort during her travels.
She took notice of how everyone reacted to the numbers, for she had just brought the biggest army to the game; falling behind only Daenerys'.
It was the biggest army she ever had the honour to command, let alone lead; being bigger than the one she had when she was fighting with Rhaegar against Robert.
She kept her face indifferent as she studied their reactions, mentally taking some joy in seeing their expressions; realising just how much power the Kingdoms still had and the fact that she practically brought three different Kingdoms into the game.
With Tywin having the Crownlands and the Westerlands, this made a total of five out of the Seven Kingdoms that existed across Westeros.
Considering the Ironborn were out of the game, choosing to isolate themselves on their islands; that made the political board even clearer.
The only two that did not have some direct connection, allegiance or loyalty to her and the Lannisters were the North and the Riverlands. But in numbers, they still had the upper hand in this war and eventually, in any war.
She caught the eye of her family, seeing the pride glowing in the golden-flecked green eyes of her husband; who saw right through her game and her scheme but was still proud. Kevan barely gave her a head nod, having learnt not to be surprised by what miracles Visenya could pull by now.
Trystan and Tyrion were the most shocked ones, by pretty much everything but one could see the small grins trying to form on their lips; having this innate pride to know that this powerful woman was their mother or good-mother in Jaime's case.
"Those are a lot of men to feed," Sansa commented, once she mentally made the calculations in her head.
"We are aware, Lady Sansa," Visenya said, somehow expecting such a reaction. "Provisions of our own have also been brought with us, and should be enough to keep our men fed until the Great War starts," she continued, earning a quick and small look of relief from the two Stark children.
"Once again, we thank you for your contribution, my lady," Jon said. "We have rooms prepared for you and your allies and we can also start discussing preparations for the upcoming battle."
"Let us start then," was her reply, her voice not once shifting and her mask not once slipping from her face.