Note: This chapter takes place in 299 AC, over a year and a half before the previous chapter and contains no Starks or Daynes or Sands.

The rain battered hard on the roof of the tower. It found cracks in the slate roof and ran in. A small trickle flowed onto the floor from a crack near the shaking shuttered window. The wind found cracks in the cold stone walls, causing the candles to flicker and dance. Though the room was poorly wrought, it was comfortable enough. A small fireplace warmed the chamber. A pile of books lay upon the sole table, beside the stale crusts of bread which the prisoner had not eaten. The rest of the tower cell contained a chair, a chamber pot, a washing basin, and a small bed piled with furs and linens. A silver hairbrush and hand-held looking glass were also upon the table.

No one ever spoke to the prisoner, so she gave up asking questions. Through her window, she could watch birds and see the greens of the trees turn to yellows and oranges. She read the books laid before her and asked for more when she finished them- at least they granted her request.

Once a day the servants would clean the room. They would empty the chamber pot, change the rushes, and fill her wash basin. Twice a day they would come with food. Once a week they would bathe her. They gave her two dresses which were rotated at the time of her weekly bath, taken for washing, and returned the next week. Five servants attended her, no more.

She saw pity in their eyes, even when they refused to speak. She knew that they would have offered her some comfort if they had been allowed. The one woman would brush out her hair daily, gently, as though she were a daughter. A few times they had snuck in treats for her. They allowed her to write a journal and said nothing of her scratches on the wall to mark the passage of days.

So that day, after months of unchanging routine, it was strange to have a new face enter the room. She was well dressed, a lady, with bright green eyes and pale brown hair. She was likely not yet twenty years old.

"I'm so sorry that you have been alone for so long. We needed to ensure your safety and our own. I trust that you have been treated well?"

She stared blankly at the woman for a while, confused that she talked to her. "No one has spoken to me for months."

"I am sorry, truly, I know that this must have been difficult."

"Am I to be freed then?"

She pursed her lips. "No sweetling, but I am taking you to my brother, my husband, and his brother so that we may tell you your future."

The captive stood, pushing aside the chair on which she had been seated. "I'm ready."

"Follow me."

She walked behind the woman, leaving the room which had been her prison for months. She had never seen the rest of the tower, having been brought there with a cloth over her head. They walked a short distance to a spiral stairway, leading down the tower. At the bottom, they passed through two rooms until they entered a small drawing room.

Three men were in the room, one seated behind a desk, one near him on a settee, and the third standing behind the man at the desk. The two seated men were similar in appearance with wavy brown hair, close cropped beards, and warm brown eyes. The woman seated herself beside the man upon the settee.

A servant closed the door behind them.

"Please, take a seat," the man behind the desk said.

Seeing no other choice, she walked to the chair in front of the desk and sat. He seemed familiar to her, but she did not know why.

"I must apologize for your treatment over the past months. We have been very busy ensuring that we can keep your existence a secret." He looked to his hands which lay upon the desk. He was picking at the grain of the wood with his fingers.

"Is my safety of importance to you? Or am I solely your prisoner?"

"A little of both, my lady," the man on the settee replied. She knew his voice. She had heard him clearly the night she had been taken prisoner.

The first man spoke again. "You are important, a piece in the much bigger game. Our father wanted you to be secured for our side, and to do so we claimed that you were dead. My brother's task was to bring you to safety while mine was to prepare a place for you. If we had been able to do so without deception, you would have been much freer."

The woman looked to her, smiling gently. "As it is, we have arranged for you to have a small team of servants. A septa and a maester will be found to join you here. We four shall all visit from time to time."

"Who are you? Why hold me as a prisoner?"

The man behind the desk was the one to speak up. "My name is Willas Tyrell, I am the heir to Highgarden. This is my brother Ser Garlan, who brought you here, and Lady Leonette is his wife. Her brother, Lord Bryan Fossoway stands behind me. We are close to Highgarden, in a small keep which is owned by my family. As for why we are holding you prisoner, surely you understand the nature of politics? Your uncle claimed the crown of the Seven Kingdoms when it should have passed to your father, Lord Stannis Baratheon. While my family sided with his grace, King Renly, we also know your importance, Lady Shireen."

He pushed back in his chair, considering her with care. "You are Robert Baratheon's true heir. Even your uncle understood that, and while he didn't order your execution he seemed rather unconcerned with your safety. Seeing the opportunity, we took you into our care." He looked to his brother, who continued the tale.

"We do not have as much faith in the King- as we have professed. Our father sits as his Hand, and our sister is married to his Queen's brother. Should your uncle fail to produce an heir, or should he falter as a king, we could produce you as a rallying point. Your greyscale scars are proof enough of who you are. We even think that the Queen might be swayed into betraying the King, should the need arise."

Willas spoke up again. "Should that time arise, and after you have reached womanhood, you will become my wife."

She swallowed hard, shocked. "And should that time not come?"

The four looked between one another in silence, none of them wanting to speak what Shireen Baratheon already suspected. It was Lord Bryan Fossoway who spoke up. "No one believes that you are alive, my lady. If you are not needed in our gambits, then you shall meet your end."

Notes, final: This chapter was written and finished at the same time as the battle of Dragonstone was mentioned... it's been done for two years. So the threads that are open for a potential sequel are this one (which could be quite the issue for Alys), the Lannisters (since Cersei, Jamie, Joffrey, and Tommen are out there somewhere), is Dany still alive, is Jon's parentage ever going to become a bigger issue, will Arianne and Renly make a marriage work when he's just not that into women... and probably more, but those are the major threads.

I want to write that part of the story, since it was the second half of my original idea, but I have lost a lot of my enthusiasm for A Song of Ice and Fire (though I do still love it), and I don't have a cohesive story arc in my head for what the story would look like. I know a few big bullet points, but not the details. So if I do get around to writing it, I would post it as the next chapters in this story, and I would want to have it complete or nearly complete when I post. No idea when that would be due to changing interests and internship next year. It would also stylistically be similar to my story Dragons Never Forget in that the chapters would all cover large chunks of time (though with multiple perspectives in each chapter).

I saw a couple comments wondering about White Walkers and the Others. I never intended for them to be in this story. If they play a part in this AU's world, it would be at a much later time. This story was very much about a complicated family and their drama. That's why the story begins and ends with Ashara watching over her daughter and someone riding to/from Ashara.

Thank you all again! :D
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