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Title Quote:

"What about Aerys Targaryen? What did the Mad King say, when you stabbed him in the back? I never asked. Did he call you a traitor? Did he plead for a reprieve?"

"He just said the same thing he'd been saying for hours... 'Burn them all.'"

Robert Baratheon and Jaime Lannister, Game of Thrones, Season 1 Episode 4, Lord Snow

(GASP! A show quote? Blasphemy! ... generally, yes. Though, imo, first few seasons are free game - mostly - and there is no equally poignant quote to describe Aerys' madness in the books. And this chapter deals, after all, with a breed of mad men.)


Walder Frey was an irascible man, and despite his long live he had never learned how to forgive a slight.

That said, if you were not the target of Walder's ire yourself, the man was highly amusing. Rickard was almost sorry that he was going to kill Walder at the Twins. But Rickard would not suffer a liability to live if it did not have its uses. Until the time came that Rickard to cross that bridge, though, Rickard was going to spend a grand time with Walder Frey.

The old sot that Walder was, he had a long life with a treasure trove of stories to tell. Sure, the majority of Walder's life experiences was 'fucked that wench', 'knocked up this looker' or 'the tits on the one hooker that gave me this nasty pox, you wouldn't believe it'.

But then there were just a few short tidbits in between - a few diamonds in the filth that was Walder Frey's existence - that were not just entertaining but also highly informative. Rickard had never known that House Butterwell had plans to start an uprising at the same time as House Peake in 233.

If Walder Frey had not stopped Ambrose Butterwell's eldest son and Walder's own sister from their folly, the old House Butterwell would probably not have existed anymore.

Of course, that information was just a side note in a story about Walder's sister fucking the young Lord Butterwell instead of her husband the old Lord Butterwell. Apparently, depravity ran in the family.

A few years later after the Peake Uprising had died its inglorious death, the young Lord Butterwell had then gifted Walder a treasure trove in old Butterwell vintages as thanks. Well, Rickard did prefer his grain brandy, but he had to admit it was a shame the Riverlands lost their best vineyard after the Second Blackfyre Rebellion.

As for the now remaining stocks, well, it seemed old Walder was determined not to leave any of the 'good wine' behind for his descendants. He was drinking the good stuff at least twice a week, and apparently the wine paired perfectly with luce, Walder's favorite.

By the amount that Walder told that he imbibed the stuff Rickard doubted the man would survive another decade. But then again, Walder looked like he should have kicked the bucked a decade ago. More disturbing a revelation was that Brynden Rivers had used the Twins as a cornerstone for his spy network in the Riverlands from 212 until 233, and that the Raven's Eyes had been dispersed along the Trident in the same manner the Cregan's Men were.

Aegon V had truly been a fool to sentence Bloodraven to the Wall. In one move the Unlikely had blinded and declawed the Iron Throne.

True, Bloodraven had been heavy handed as the force behind the crown. However, his Raven's Teeth had been the deterrent and his Raven's Eyes the insurance that forced the realm's lords to comply through three Blackfyre Rebellions instead of defecting or remaining neutral. Such a tool begged to be used.

Well, Rickard was glad his own forefathers never relinquished control of either their eyes or their stick, and Rickard would not fail his ancestors in that regard. Neither would Ned, after some thorough teaching.

And Gods, did Ned need teaching on how to rule. Jon Arryn had forged Ned into a formidable soldier and battle commander, however, the Lord Paramount of the Vale had mostly neglected teaching Ned politics, cunning and intrigue. Ned's straight-forwardness would have to be bent. And Ned would have to learn that honor only flew as high as necessity allowed

For this purpose, Rickard had been riding out with Ned daily since they met off Darry, to discuss matters of ruling. During these daily jaunts Rickard had also been slowly whittling away Ned's aversion to using spies. A truly foolish notion, that.

They had met two other regional leaders besides Tom of Riverrun since Rickard and his party had broken for the North. Two women named Jeyne, one who had been tilling a field close to Fairmarket and the other who had sold fish near Oldstones where Rickard and company had crossed the Blue Fork.

The Jeyne at Oldstones had left Ned thinking on the use of spies by informing them that the second son of Lord Nayland of Hag's Mire was getting away with raping a woman of the smallfolk because nobody dared speaking up. Of course, Ned saw it as a question of justice, a problem to set right. Rickard would need to instruct Ned on the worth of leverage instead.

Today they were going to meet another informant. This one was acting a ferryman across the Green Fork a day's ride south of the Twins.

The Cregan's Man at this junction was likely rather high in the hierarchy of the Cregan's Men, seeing that he controlled an independent crossing of the river the Freys claimed dominion of. A lot of intelligence on the way North was bound to flow through this man's hands.

Rickard would not have known he was to meet this Cregan's Man if a rider had not come down from the Twins with a letter from Old Man Robard. The letter had been rather short. Just a missive, actually, that Lyanna had crossed the Neck and entered the North proper.

But hidden in code, and only visible when heated over a candle, the paper revealed a set of coordinates and a time. Old Man Robard never simply sent a letter.

Of course, aside from the reigning Lord of Winterfell, almost nobody in the North or the rest of the world knew that it was always a member of House Cerwyn that headed the entirely intelligence available to the Starks.

It rarely was the Lord of Castle Cerwyn that took up these duties. The duty had only fallen to Lord Robard because he had been an only child, and because Robard had been married to Argella Stark besides.

The last time a Lord Cerwyn headed the office of Commander of Intelligence before Robard it had been the best friend of Cregan Stark. That Lord Cerwyn had forged the Cregan's Men out of Cregan's unbloodied host and the ashes that had remained of the Torrhen's Men.

Well, that had been a necessity, considering Aemond One-Eye and Vhagar had scorched the Riverlands so thoroughly that barely a tenth of the Torrhen's Men had survived.

Still, never before had the Northern spy network permeated so thoroughly through all societal layers south of the Neck then in the time Cregan's dearest friend had woven the network anew himself.

By now, the Cregan's Men were even making headway into the lower rungs of the Faith. Hopefully, Old Man Robard's second son could lead the office as well as his father when his time came.

Gods beware Cai Cerwyn never managed to train an heir for the position of spymaster. Robard had to keep his lordly heir Medger from the family business due to Medger's… lacking mental faculties, to be delicate.

Now Rickard and Ned were out on their daily ride, and coincidentally they were making a stop along Green Fork. Just after the sun had passed its zenith for the day, just as planned.

Ahead of them a nondescript-looking ferryman was offloading a huckster and a tinker, it looked like. Rickard briefly wondered if the two travelling salesmen were Cregan's Men as well, but already the peddlers were gone in a blink. Instead, the ferryman hailed Rickard and Ned when they came into view.

"I greet Cregan's get."

There was a kindly smile to the ferryman as he welcomed Rickard and Ned.

"I'm Tom."

"Cregan's get greets you, Tom."

Rickard returned Tom's smile just as kindly, and Rickard had to bite down a true smile as Ned startled beside him.

Well, the name Jeyne was common enough that Ned did not need to question it when the two women of the Cregan's Men shared the name. Two time's a pattern, though, and Rickard was happy Ned caught on quick. Now Rickard's heir would just need to learn to mask his surprise.

"What news have you for us, Tom?"

"News, my lord, and a package from the North. Won't you step onto my barge for our talk? I've kept your box beneath my seat, and I will be glad to be rid of it."

This Tom had been made aware of the contents of the box? Surprising, that. The ferryman must have been one of the highest officers beneath Old Man Robard.

The ferry started out onto the river, and after Tom had punted the barge a little further up the stream the ferryman dropped the anchor in the middle of the river.

Tom passed Rickard a wooden chest of polished sentinel pine, closed by a delicate seal of beeswax with thistles emblazoned. Rickard cracked the seal and carefully opened the lid to check the contents.

Everything Rickard needed was inside. The box was separated into five compartments and held the necessary tools. Two pairs of castle-forged tongs. A fine brush. Gloves made of treated dog skin. A single gold dragon in a bed of velvet. A crystalline phial containing a transparent liquid with a light metal shine to it.

"Thank you", Rickard said softly as he carefully closed the box again.

Tom looked well rid of it, and Rickard did not begrudge it the man. Ned looked a little confused by it all, but Rickard would not tell Ned about one of House Stark most well-guarded secrets in the presence of another. After all, Rickard did not know how much Tom was aware of.

"You have news for me, Tom?", Rickard asked, after the most important part of their meeting was done.

"Yes, my lord, plenty. News from the North were given to me along with the box. There were some false trails, of course, but with the right key I was able to decipher five messages meant for you, Lord Rickard."

False trails. It never got hold. Rickard suppressed a chuckle and left Tom to transmit the messages.

"I have received your orders, and I am now hosting the lady and her son in my guest wing.

"Congratulations. Every friend has been invited. The kids are coming to dinner. Turf has been restocked. I did not leave a stone untouched.

"As you have bidden, the cavalry will greet you at the gate in force. You were right, the fillies have shown themselves temperamental.

"A new visitor has arrived. He has old burns on his hands, and he is asking for help. He has been given shelter, yet I did not dare treat him.

"The troubadours are coming, uninvited. Many are already here. They sing of peace."

Well.

Fuck.

Those news ranged from wonderful to disastrous. At least the second code layer kept Tom from knowing the meaning of the words Robard had sent.

"These are your answers, Tom. Use the same channels."

Rickard turned the words and phrases over in his head before he spoke on. Five answers and one report. Robard would know what to do.

"Give them shelter. The father will ride with me from the gate.

"Unity and force. Fix the sieve.

"Divide and conquer. Test options.

"Do not. Keep sheltered. Await further instructions.

"Send the gaolers and stoke the flames. Alert the kids. Peace is the domain of gods.

"The first bachelor remains as is. Keep watch but keep calm."

Tom took out a piece of twine and started making knots. True stories and false trails. Rickard did not know how to read the knots himself; the code was almost unbreakable. The second layer was only a precaution in case one of Rickard's spies ever sang.

Ned was keeping a good façade through it all, but Rickard remembered the time when his own father Edwyle had taken Rickard to meet Old Man Robard. Rickard himself had been 20 years old then. Through five meetings Rickard had tried to get a grasp of the code on his own, but it had been impossible.

Well. Rickard understood now that his father first had needed to teach Rickard to rule before Rickard could have been allowed access to their intelligence. Now some education was in order for Ned. Or better, a little history. It was never wrong to know the men behind the myths.

But that would have to wait until Rickard and Ned were alone again.

"Tom", Rickard simply said, "please bring us back to our horses."

"Of course, my lord."

Tom raised the anchor again and left the barge to drift back towards their starting location. The man looked relieved to be rid of his burden. Still, in his position the ferryman must have been more aware of the general state the Riverlands than both Jeynes Ned and Rickard met, and more than the Tom at Riverrun.

Therefore, the ferryman was probably even more interested in credible news from nobility. Well, it always helped to reward one's own men. And Toms tended to know the true worth of information.

"Tell me, Tom, do you have family around here?"

"Yes, my lord, I do. My second son just got his first child, you see. I hope he won't see no fighting too soon. He'd probably serve you better as my successor here than swinging a sword at your enemies. Me Henrik is a smart lad, my lord."

Rickard had to raise an eyebrow at that. At least, after a second Tom seemed to notice his mistake. The Riverlander seemed flustered for the first time.

"Sorry, my lord, I did not mean to imply-", Tom started with a nervous look towards Ned, "my second son Henrik really is becoming a father. I would not dare threaten-"

Rickard raised a hand, and he let a small smile show on his face. Ned did look a little red as Tom continued to fidget. But it did not do to leave Tom frightened. Or worried for the future.

"Tom", Rickard said, and the man stilled.

"I am also looking forward towards my grandchildren. I do hope though your son did wed your good-daughter before begetting her with child; right, Tom?

"And worry not, Tom. Us Starks look after our loyal people. Your son won't see war here."

Rickard drummed his fingers shortly on the box of sentinel pine, drawing Tom's eyes from a reddening Ned towards the little chest. As Tom looked up again Rickard continued speaking with a wolfish grin.

"Welcome to the North, Tom."

They hit the shore as Rickard said the words, and Tom looked to be gulping for air for a second.

Rickard and Ned quickly disembarked.

"Cregan's get thanks you for your service."

Rickard dismissed the Tom before him, for all of import had been said.

"I thank Cregan's get for the fire in my hearth in winter."

Tom the ferryman still looked somewhere between relieved and frightened as he answered, and soon after Tom had disappeared behind the next river bend with his barge. As soon as the Cregan's Man was out of sight, Ned turned to Rickard for answers.

"Father. What was all that about?"

"That", Rickard said as he levelled his stare onto his son, "was a message from my spymaster telling me to hurry home. You will need to know the whole code in time, but we will take it step by step. But for now, walk with me, Ned.

"I do not have the time right now to indict you into all that comes with being the Lord of Winterfell, Ned. You will learn our codes after your wedding. For now, tell me, who do you think was the worst king the North ever had?"

Eddard did not think on the question for a long a time. Rickard's heir had become accustomed to the apparent non-sequitur questions Rickard asked in their discussions. As Ned fell into a trot keeping pace with Rickard, Ned gave the answer Rickard had expected. After all, Rickard had given his father the same answer once.

"Brandon the Burner. He burned the Northern fleets and shipyards and left our House vulnerable to the Ironborn. He left us without the capability to reestablish our presence at sea. Since Brandon's death the North has not had a navy."

It was the obvious answer to Rickard's question. It was also the wrong answer. Brandon the Burner was rarely talked about because he had to make ugly decisions out of necessity. Tywin Lannister would have liked the man. Rickard spoke to set Ned's mistake right.

"One would think so, right? But sadly, our worst king is known in the North as one of its greatest defender.

"Brandon the Burner brought peace to the North for nigh on three generations after his death and allowed the North to recuperate from the most devastating string of conflicts it had suffered. If Brandon had not burned our coasts, the North would likely have splintered from within and fractured from without.

"Instead, the worst king to ever rule the North was Theon the Hungry Wolf."

Ned snapped around to Rickard so quickly that Ned almost stumbled over his feet in the middle of a step. Rickard did not let it deter him.

"Theon started out a promising king, fending of Argos Sevenstar at the Weeping Water when he was just a young man. In fact, Theon was probably the best tactician the North ever produced. As far as I recall, the Hungry Wolf never lost a battle."

Every child in the North had at least heard of Theon Stark, and many a child elsewhere in the world. For all that Rickard knew, the last Andals of Andalos still feared Theon's specter.

"It does not matter that Theon won every battle he fought. The Hungry Wolf had grown gluttonous from his successes. After the Sundering of Andalos, Theon allied with the mountain clans of the Vale and made plans to strip the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale from the Andal invaders.

"To expediate the war efforts and shorten his supply lines, Theon invaded the Sisters. He had recently returned from Andalos, so Theon employed the same tactics that brought him victory in Essos. However, Theon soon learned that a protracted foreign campaign required better logistics than a mere raid.

"By the time Theon learned that lesson the Sistermen were already so embittered with the Starks that they chose to bend the knee to the Arryns and convert to the Faith of the Seven, just to get their revenge on the Hungry Wolf. Theon Stark alone is responsible is the reason why we lost safety of the Bite, to not even speak of controlling it.

"But it got worse. With Theon's eyes in the east, the Ironborn started reaving our western coast in greater numbers. Theon did beat them back quickly, true, but right after Theon wheeled around and continued his Worthless War.

"The next invaders to seize their chance when they saw an understaffed frontier were the wildlings, falling over the North in great numbers. Again, Theon pulled off a resounding victory, decimating the wildlings in battle. Only to once more return to fight for the Sisters.

"It had become an obsession. Theon Stark wanted to cement a legacy like Brandon IX., the last Stark king to expand the dominion of the North. At the start, the Vale was his goal. But whenever Theon turned to deal with another threat to the North, the Arryns reconquered the Sisters.

"You know the rebellion in Rills that Theon is famed for quelling. The truth is, the strain that the North's constant state of war caused the economy lead to poverty so great that the smallfolk in the entire North was on the verge of rebellion. The Rills were just the first place the dam broke.

"Theon's smartest act during his time as king was beating down that initial rebellion with a brutality never seen before, deterring any other threatening uprisings from starting. The mountains of Northern corpses Theon left in that one rebellion dwarfed the dead foes of all his foreign wars combined with a parity of more than ten to one."

Rickard quieted a second at that. While the Hungry Wolf was feared and hated in the rest of the world, none actually knew the extent of Theon Stark's butchery. It had taken centuries after the reign of Brandon the Burner for the respective Northern information campaign to take root and reverse the image of Theon Stark amongst the smallfolk.

The tale of Theon Stark's life and reign was an interesting subject if one wanted to study what mistakes to avoid ruling the North. But Theon Stark was not what Rickard wanted to talk of, Brandon the Burner was. So, Rickard raised his voice once more.

"The Worthless War simmered down a little after the Rebellion of the Rills. However, the thing that Theon did not anticipate was that while the Bite is of vital importance to the North, its coastline in the Vale is sparsely populated and difficult to attack from the water. The Sisters true significance is that it is the best place to mount an attack on the North from.

"The White Knife has always been the most important waterway in the North. And from the Sisters, one can command the White Knife's delta and the rest of the Bite. The Arryns only recognized this fact, too, after they had been handed sovereignty over the Sisters by Theon's stupidity and cruelty.

"The loss of the Sisters to the Vale has been the biggest strategic defeat the North has ever suffered, period. Especially considering that an independent Kingdom of the Sisters was more beneficial to the North than the Vale. The Sistermen themselves were always a nuisance at most, never a threat. With the backing of the entire Vale? That is another problem entirely.

"Furthermore, Andal expansionism at the time of the Hungry Wolf was still in full swing. The Arryns or some other Andal warlord would have tried to conquer the Sisters sooner or later. That would have likely brought the Sisters into our fold voluntarily. Without local support, the Arryns would have never dared clashing with Theon in neutral territory.

"Considering all that, abandoning the Sisters and the Worthless War was still better than the alternative. Every Stark king after Theon had to deal with Arryn raiders attempting to conquer the North from the Sisters. So, for a millennium after Theon died, Stark kings tried to conquer the Sisters permanently to put a stop to Vale incursions in the North.

"The last in that long line of kings was Brandon the Shipwright. His plan had been decently sound. Brandon the Shipwright did build the greatest fleet the North had ever seen, and he kept it out of sight in the Bay of Ice. Brandon's intention was to sail around all of Westeros to attack Gulltown, then use his Narrow Sea fleet to take the Sisters.

"This time, the plan was to put the entire population of the Sisters to the sword. Brandon the Shipwright did not plan conquest, he planned annihilation. Afterwards, the isles were to be repopulated with Northman. However, the entire Western fleet was lost to a storm and all of Brandon the Shipwright's plans were for naught.

"Additionally, the Ironborn, weary of Brandon the Shipwrights navy, had been unable to raid the Western coast during his reign. They were the only people to know of the North's Western fleet, but then, interaction of any kingdom in Westeros with the Ironborn has always been as little as possible.

"After Brandon and his fleet were lost, the Ironborn started raiding the Western Shore to Sea Dragon Point, the Bay of Ice and the Saltspear with a vengeance.

"That was the situation when Brandon the Burner took the Winter Throne. And despite all the external threats he was facing, the Burner noticed that the worst consequence the Worthless War had had on the North was an internal one.

"Small folk numbers were in decline. The people were dying too quickly, and smallfolk numbers had seen a slight but steady drop for generations. The Northmen had adapted to the state of constant war, but the smallfolk could not breed fast enough.

"We do not know at what point the smallfolk numbers started going down, but the process must have been ongoing for centuries. The truth is, the North can easily support a greater number of people than it does now. Has supported a greater number of people.

"Furthermore, the populace that lived in the North at the end of the Worthless War was less healthy than before, too, as the men to till the fields were off fighting and dying. If that trend were not stopped the Kingdom of Winter could have faced depopulation and collapse at some point.

"But the fields had lain fallow too long, and nature reclaimed much of the farmland. The men were needed in the fields. However, even if the Northern army stopped attacking the Sisters, it was unlikely for the Valemen to stop attacking the North from the Sisters.

"So, Brandon devised a way to end the Worthless War, and make it as costly for the Arryns as possible. Thanks to his father's legacy, the Burner had an abundance of ships on the eastern cost left as well. Old men were crewing the entire navy left for a last attack on the Sisters. Instead of soldiers, however, the ships carried pitch and turf and alcohol-soaked linens and barrels of brandy.

"The Arryns sent their own navy in its entirety to meet our forces close off Little Sister. It seemed advantageous to them; I think. Fighting it out in waters under Arryn control, close to a harbor under Arryn control… The last fleet of the North took down almost all the ships of the Vale with them. A few burning hulls crashed into Sisterton, setting the town ablaze.

"The Arryns never dared publicize their exact casualty count, but the Burner suspected that for every Northman dead, three to four Valemen left their lives. That is not even considering the cost of the lost ships or the devastation of Sisterton. It took the Arryns decades to rebuild. And still, the Sistermen hated the yoke they now live under.

"Of course, a few leftover ships of the Arryns attacked the White Knife. But Brandon only had to set a few docks aflame the first few times and burn the ships as they made land for that folly to cease. After achieving peace in the east, the Burner took the same measures on the Western Coast. But he took it even further.

"Brandon the Burner is the reason we do not call the western coast the Western Coast anymore, but the Stony Shore instead. The coast was cleared of people, and when Ironborn came to reave, their ships were burned along with entire forests. The pirates in the west learned the same way the Arryns did.

"After, when peace was achieved, Brandon put all the people to work on the fields. Tons of fishermen had been uprooted from their homes, so, Brandon put them to task in tilling the fields and making the land yield crops in greater numbers again.

"And whenever an Andal warlord or a reaving Ironborn party got too cocky again, they were either burned or drawn into the heartlands and killed in the snow fall. Brandon the Burner used fire again to burn any shelter against the weather or supplies he could not carry to deny invading armies purchase in our lands. More than any other king before him, Brandon the Burner understood our house words.

"Winter is coming is not a warning, it is a threat to our enemies. For us Starks ruled as Kings of Winter, and winter is not an opponent you can win against.

"This is the most important lesson you may ever learn, Ned, if it ever comes that you are on the verge of losing a war. Retreat to the North. Burn the supplies you cannot carry. Burn any places that might offer your foes shelter. Let winter kill the enemies you could not kill yourself. Winter will never fail you, Ned, and you will stand, triumphant."

Ned mulled over the tale of Brandon the Burner in silence for a while. Rickard saw understanding in his son's eyes, but also questions. Good.

"Ask, son."

"Why did King Torrhen go to fight Aegon the Conqueror in the Riverlands?"

"Torrhen heard of the dragons. He was afraid that if fighting took place in the North, a scorched earth retreat would lead to Aegon burning keeps. So, he went south to ascertain the truth of the matter.

"At the time, bending the knee was the right call. Dorne might have kept its independence, but the North could never survive if dragons burned the farmland off the roads where our small folk would have retreated to.

"However, the groundwork for an independent Kingdom of the North was never lost. Many steps were taken the year Torrhen knelt to support renewed independence should the Targaryens fail us.

"Losing the New Gift was a hard blow to our agricultural output, but we've managed to cope. In turn, it united our lords in purpose behind us, and since then we have been able to prepare for a secession more thoroughly. Aerys was just the last in a long list of insults."

This time, Ned did not wait long with the next question.

"Why tell me the Burner's story now?"

"It relates to a message Tom relayed to us. He has old burns on his hands, and he is asking for help. He has been given shelter, yet I did not dare treat him.

"Sistermen have the uncommon trait of webbed fingers. Brandon burned the Sisters first. That is where our visitor is from. The Sisterman is neither a guest nor an uninvited guest, but a visitor. The man is not friend or foe but has a chance to be either. He is new, meaning he came in through White Harbor where the Manderlys sit in the New Castle.

"He has been given shelter, meaning the Sisterman was hidden away somewhere so people do not know he's in the North. He is asking for help, meaning a diplomatically sensitive problem. My spymaster did not dare treat with him. Seeing as the Sisters are subject to the Vale and Jon Arryn is our ally, I forbade my spymaster from handling the matter at his discretion.

"In short, we need to talk to your foster father, Ned. There's trouble brewing in the Bite, enough that the Sunderlands or more likely the Borrells saw Winterfell as a safer alternative than the Eyrie for protection. Let's ride back to our party."

Rickard and Ned arrived at the place his horse was bound and quickly mounted it. Ned did likewise, though Rickard could see there were still questions on his son's mind. Rickard was proven wrong in his assumption that Ned was going to ask about the other messages, or the box.

"Brandon the Burner ruled a long time ago, father. Why have we not rebuilt a fleet since?"

"Who says we haven't?"

Rickard answered with a smirk as he put the spurs to his horse and broke into gallop back to the camp.


Review responses

-Black-Riddle-Malfoy: Conflicted feelings was absolutely what I was going for, so thanks a lot :)

magnus374: Thanks dude (or dudette, but the username has me thinking the first option here)!

username not recognized: Here in ff it was not so bad actually, but sizing and headers are simply not an option in formatting on this site. In AO3, the html coding had to be copied over and over on different text, so that was a 4+ hour nightmare to just get the coding right… Still, the optics as a reader and the tagging system on AO3 are superior to ff imo. It just does not have the same reach. And as you see, Aerys ain't got nothing on the original pyromaniac monarch :D

Joseph Sage: Glad you are along for the ride and enjoying the entire view :) There will not be much of a focus on Essos. You will get a little of Asshai, a few Blackfyre viewpoints probably, something something Golden Company, Mellario in Norvos and Minna in Slaver's Bay, and maybe the odd nasty surprise that might have been teased here or there, but only if it relates to the Westerosi theatre. Information on the Essosi theatre will mostly come in in the background of the POV characters, so do not get your hopes up there. Lyanna is probably around 8ish chapters away? Stay tuned

Max20.7: Writing the damn thing has been a blast, mostly. This thing has been up for some time on AO3 while I was fixing the earlier chapters, but just yesterday before I uploaded it here I noticed that I had totally forgotten Lorath… they are just that insignificant as a player. Sure, Lorath is a matter of interest for the Norvoshi part of the story, but thematically I intend on taking Mellario's character arc more in the direction of dogmatism and state surveillance. Probably. The Vale secret is actually one I have not even teased yet, so stay tuned for hints there. I have got endgame plans for Crackclaw Point already, as well as their allegiance in the war figured out. Stay tuned for all that :)

Guest: I do not make a habit out of feeding trolls, but your review, good sir (or lady), had me in stitches. So, I will just take the piss out of you here. First, it is pathetic that you are giving that kind of comment as an anonymous Guest. If you are writing shit like that, you have got to be able to own it. Like, I do not know what you have read, because I just do not recognize any part of my story in your… words. They are just too bad and incoherent to call them a review. But by the way you have written your… words, it is possible we are talking about the same story and you are just as incompetent reading words as you are in writing them. Which is a shame, as from your use of niché acronyms I would guess you are a native English speaker. Oh, wait sorry, acronym is the thing where you abbreviate a phrase by using only the first letters of the words contained. Sorry, I am using big words with you, abbreviate means shortening a word or phrase. I know, words that are derivatives from a foreign language are… Fuck, I am just making the same mistake over and over! So, derivative in this case means- I am actually not going to bother with that. Use a dictionary. That might also help with your spelling. Anyways, do not throw around terms like 'narrative purpose' and 'dispicable[sic]' as if you actually understand them. Also, please just use 'evil' the next time? Thanks. Lastly, dude (or dudette), that racism accusation would fit if Ashara were canonically a person of color. Which she is not. Blame George. Now, I actually do not want to thank you for your comment, but writing this response was just incredibly fun. So, well. Cheers. (And please, PLEASE, reply to this, I will even teach you some more words that will not leave you sounding like a nine-year-old that just got owned at online CoD and is looking to vent.)