Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV Olenna Tyrell:

In a carriage a few miles from Torrhen's Square.

Four days after a grueling negotiation....

"Granny, you were amazing!" Said Willas reading the signed documents again.

After signing the first document sealing the trade routes and agreements between House Tallhart and Tyrell, Olenna had to sign eleven more documents containing all the clauses and specifics of those agreements.

Willas Tyrell was rereading those documents for the third time in a row.

"You were convinced that House Tyrell would be damaged and have to pay a heavy price, but we're going to come out of this stronger than ever." Said the almost 10 year old boy showing enthusiasm and recognition towards his grandmother.

"No sweetheart, it wasn't me...I entered that room with the intention of destroying my opponent, but instead I was beaten and humiliated for good...What you hold in your hand is just a balm to soothe the wounds that were inflicted on me. A gesture of peace granted to us by a fearsome adversary who prefers us as allies instead of enemies." Olenna explained sincerely to the future heir of Highgarden.

Willas was shocked... it was the first time his Grandmother had shown him such a sign of weakness and yielding. The Queen of Thorns had been pruned of her poisoned quills.

"In any case, you still remain the most powerful weapon in The Reach. The benefits we will gain in the coming years from the soap and perfume trade will etch our House's name more strongly in the stone of history. Not to mention this method of extracting essences. 'The Art of Enfleurage' will reduce our processing costs and, at the very least, triple our production output!" Said Willas trying to cheer up his grandmother.

"Ahaha! Yes I'll give you that, we can say that in the next few years 'roses will smell like never before'. Something good in life I must have done to deserve a grandson like you." Olenna said, flashing a loving smile at Willas.

Willas was embarrassed for a moment but accepted the compliment smiling.

"So...since you have read those cards several times, can you tell me what is the point that troubles me the most in that agreement? It's very difficult to guess. If you can answer me, as soon as we get to Highgarden I'll throw your fat ass father off the 'throne' and you'll be in charge." Olenna said, urging the boy to concentrate with all his mental strength.

Willas was flipping through all the documents again to find the correct answer...

He made three attempts... but failed them all. Olenna showed no disappointment at the failure, she had expected it. Her grandson wasn't ready yet...' The Rose had yet to grow up'.

"Here." She pointed to a spot on a parchment.

"I don't understand, Granny...Why does it bother you? It's advantageous for us if the loan instalment payments are made through the Iron Bank's accounts." Willas was confused, he could not see the possible threat.

"Without a doubt, my dear...but if you reread this clause properly, you will note that the Tyrells are responsible for the security of all transports, all goods both export and import and of course, the delivery of the loaned amount. That 'player' could easily have added the payment of the loan instalments to that list as well, and I would have had no objection. And this is where it gets rough...The 'Iron Bank' is the safest place known to man to store his wealth. Not even Braavosi accountants and consultants will be able to easily notice that stain and imperfection. It's only more obvious to me because I've been confronted directly with that sort of 'Nordic Tywin'.....That single clause begs the question that will surely give me another big headache..." Olenna waited a few seconds to give her grandson a chance to answer the question on his own.

".....Why does House Tallhart want to empty their account in the Iron Bank?" Willas Tyrell asked.

Olenna Tyrell gave a smirk as she showed her heir some worthy recognition.

End POV;

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POV Catelyn Stark;

Winterfell.

Nearly three months after an important question was voiced....

The new lady of Winterfell was in her son Robb's nursery.

She was nursing her son in person. As long as she could, no wet nurse would steal her mother-child moment from her hands.

She kept staring at the newborn in her arms as he fed from her breast. She would not or could not look up, if she did she would be forced to watch that abomination sleeping just a few steps away from the future heir of Winterfell. She would inevitably feel hatred, anger, and gods only know what other bad thoughts, and that might have soured her own breast milk.

Today Catelyn Stark was in a worse mood than usual.

Only a few hours earlier she had heard a 'song' by a so called 'Bloody Snow'...an alleged bastard from the North who was considered 'a hero'. The 5-year-old was said to have single-handedly led 60 Tallhart men against 100 armed bandits to a crushing victory. Not only that, others claim he fought on the front line killing dozens of armed men and was soaked in the blood of his defeated enemies. The most annoying rumor was that some thought that said 'Hero of the North' had been blessed at birth by the 'Old Gods' themselves.

All lies... Catelyn Stark was convinced that the 'rumours' had been started by House Tallhart itself just to gain more goodwill and fame in the North...

'One bastard who dishonours me every minute of my life and even sleeps next to my Robb and another who gains fame and honour with blatantly false deeds'. Catelyn could not erase these thoughts.

The abomination called 'Jon Snow', as if he had read the woman's thoughts, began to cry. He was hungry...

After a few seconds a wet nurse answered the call by entering the room.

"Get out." Catelyn said coldly to the poor servant of the castle.

"My lady... he is hungry..." the young woman tried to say.

"I said get out. This is an order. You will not come in until your future lord has finished eating. He can wait..." Said the Lady of Winterfell.

"Yes my lady..." the servant replied, giving a bow before leaving.

Catelyn Stark continued to feed her son, oblivious to the constant screaming and moaning of the starving infant a few feet away...

End POV.

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POV Cercei Lannister;

Year 284, 1st day of the first moon.

King's Landing.

Same day a newborn baby was nursed....

Cercei was looking in the mirror one last time before her big debut.

Today was the day she would finally become 'The Queen'.

A couple of handmaidens were helping her with the final touches.

"My Queen, would you like Highgarden's new perfume?" The handmaiden asked, handing over a small glass bottle with the rose symbol engraved in the centre.

"Mmm, Yes I would say it is an opportune time to try this so called 'Essence of the Maiden'. Pff, what a silly name... But I have to hand it to you, those 'flower pickers' did produce something decent after all." Said Cercei giving her approval for the scent.

The handmaiden poured a few drops of the solution onto a silk handkerchief and began to shake the piece of cloth around the bride.

A very pleasant smell pervaded the area. It was like walking past a feast of freshly baked cakes in the middle of a meadow full of roses, that scent would have made even a 'sister of silence' palatable. It was the most expensive and rare of the seven new perfumes just released by the House of Tyrell. Needless to say, a new 'war' had broken out among all the noble ladies of Westeros.

Cercei inhaled air through her nose wanting to savour the feeling of strength and power growing within her. She had never felt this good before...everything was perfect.

Only one jarring note rang out within her...a name.

'Elia Martell...that filthy bitch, who ripped Prince Rhaegar from my arms, is still alive. Hiding somewhere.

But now I will be Queen...and you my dear will be hunted for the rest of your days by my father's hounds...You will see, I will convince my 'new beloved' Robert to move heaven and earth to get me your head and that of your children as a wedding gift." Cercei thought roaring inwardly.

She looked in the mirror one last time, smiling.

'Everyone will bow down to the Lioness sooner or later.'

End POV;

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POV Elia Martell;

Naath.

The same day the wedding was celebrated....

Elia stared at her daughter Rhaenys playing 'chasing butterflies' with her cat Balerion. A small structure, for now mainly made of wood, was rising in the centre of the island. It was according to his brother Oberyn, the safest and most hidden place. It also enjoyed a good defensive position that would be fully exploited in the course of time. For now, 300 armed men, carefully chosen Targaryen and Dornian loyalists, were the personal escort of Elia and her children.

Doran had also organised a small naval fleet of 'pirates' to patrol the island's shores. The threat of possible attacks by slavers and other marauders would be greatly reduced.

A small village of islanders was less than a mile from the refuge. The population was lovely and peaceful, after the Dornians managed to communicate and negotiate with the respective village heads of the main villages on the island, they had offered without complaint to help the 'refugees' and to consider them as 'part of their people'.

Dorne in return would protect the island in the shadows from all potential threats. No great army would ever dare to march on Naath. The disease would strike the outsiders within a week at the latest. It had certainly become the safest place in the known world to hide.

"Elia, I would like you to meet someone." Oberyn said in a calm tone. A little girl barely three years old was holding her brother's hand.

"Yes? Who is this beautiful young lady?" Elia asked, trying to calm the still slightly frightened and unsure child.

"This is Missandei. A lovely and brilliant little girl. She learned our language in just two months. Her parents have agreed to let this 'gift from the gods' assist us as an interpreter between us and the islanders. On Missandei do not be afraid say hello." Oberyn encouraged the little girl to come forward.

"Pleased to meet you, my- my name is Missandei and I will be at your service princess. I-" The little girl was interrupted by someone.

"Hello!!! What's your name? Do you want to play with me and Balerion? We're trying to catch butterflies!" Said little Rhaenys turning a friendly smile to Missandei.

"I....I... " Missandei.

"Of course she does! Missandei go play and have fun before lunch is ready. You will eat with us." Elia said. Both she and her brother encouraged the little girl to join Rhaenys.

"Y-Yes!" Missandei began to smile and ran with Rhaenys to the beautiful flower garden that had just been worked.

The twins gave themselves a few minutes to silently observe the two little girls playing and laughing.

"So brother, you know what I want to know." Elia.

"No need..." Oberyn.

Elia stared at Oberyn with an icy gaze. The man sighed after a few seconds and told the truth....

"Yes, the rumors say that Tywin Lannister tasked a massacre at the Red Keep... His 'dog' tortured and raped your handmaidens trying to find out where you were hiding..." Oberyn said reluctantly.

Elia frowned for a moment but a look that screamed 'Revenge' was etched on her face.

"That mysterious 'ally' you mentioned...Will forever be Dorne's friend. " Elia said, looking into her brother's eyes.

"Always." Oberyn replied, gently placing his hands on his beloved sister's cheeks.

A few seconds passed...

"You'll have to leave soon won't you?" Elia asked.

"Yes, unfortunately. I have to go around Essos playing my part of 'Desperate Brother, searching for his sister and nephews." Oberyn rested.

Elia nodded sadly and then hugged her brother, trying to thank him again for all he had done and would continue to do for the sake of his family.

End POV

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POV Rhaella Targaryen;

Dragonstone.

On the same day that a brother and sister.

Queen Rhaella was lying on her bed holding her swollen belly in pain with her hands.

'No, it's not time yet. Calm down my little one.' The Queen thought as she tried to resist the pain of the tiny contractions that were occurring in her belly.

She was certain that the new baby would be a girl. She had dreamed. She had already decided what her name would be.

'Daenerys.... Daenerys of House Targaryen.' Thought Rhaella smiling.

The queen was also aware that this would be her last task. The last effort she would make for the sake of her children.

Her dreams and her body were warning her. She would have to wait...wait for the arrival of a great storm.

"Mother! When will my future bride be born?" A spoiled and impetuous child asked.

"Your 'Sister' will be born soon, Viserys...It will be your job to protect her, from then on. Do you remember the promise you made to me?" Rhaella asked.

"Yes, mother....Don't worry, everyone will kneel to the 'Dragon'. I will protect my future bride and avenge my brother and father!" Viserys said in a confident tone.

"Uff....You will follow Ser Willem Darry's valuable advice when I am gone. You will obey his orders and listen to his advice. You are not yet old enough, Viserys." Said Rhaella for the umpteenth time. She was really starting to lose hope with that boy. Aerys had plagiarized and poisoned him, she knew it. Perhaps it really was too late to get him back on the right path.

"Yes, mother...but I am the 'king' and Ser Willem is 'my' knight!" Reposed the almost eight year old arrogantly.

'If it is true that Aegon and Rhaenys are dead, you my little one, you must be the future of House Targaryen...' Thought a woman with deep sadness...

End of Part I