It has been ages I know, and I'm really sorry… Black Wolf Reborn has kept pretty much all of my attention for the last month or so, but here I am with another chapter of this story!

I own nothing but the OC's in the story, everyone and everything else belongs to HBO or George R R Martin.

Jon Connington was disgusted with himself. He had done as his King had commanded and married the Baratheon child in the newly completed sept and unwillingly bedded her afterwards, but he couldn't free himself from the noise of her crying as he left her chambers for his own. He'd ended up drinking an entire bottle of Dornish Red that night, passing out in his armchair instead of sleeping in his bed. That was the reason for his aching neck the next day as he woke up early to let out some of his frustrations on one of the training dummy's.

He didn't know how long he had been there slashing at the dummy, but the sign was high in the sky before he dropped the training sword to the stone slabs on the ground. He went to one side and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a cloth, only to turn round and see Luke walking over to him, followed by Ser Franklyn Flowers of his Kingsguard.

"Your Grace." Jon bowed his head.

"Lord Hand." Luke grinned formally. "You're out of bed early."

Jon grimaced. "I did as you commanded Luke, but I'll never be happy about it. The poor girl…"

"Is a Baratheon." Luke said bitterly.

"She's still a child." Jon told Luke coldly, before realising his tone. "Apologies, Your Grace."

Luke had also calmed down, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry too, you're right. She is as much at fault for her family as I am for mine I suppose."

Jon nodded. "I'll give her time to recover and see her in a few days."

Luke shook his head. "You might not get the chance my friend. I'm going to need you on the mainland."

That peaked Jon's interest. "Your Grace?"

Luke smirked, and handed Jon a raven letter with the broken seal of House Tyrell. "The Queen of Thorns is open to more negotiations. As you were involved in the signing of the original pack and you are my Hand, you are the perfect man to finalise these talks."

He wanted to argue, but Jon knew that Luke was right. "Very well." He nodded. "How long have I got?"

"I need you there as soon as you can be, Jon." Luke told him, handing him another letter. "Then I want you to aid the Dornish through the Stormlands and the Kingswood."

Jon read the surprisingly neat handwriting of Prince Oberyn, who had detailed that Stonehelm and Grandview on the edge of the Rainwood had both fallen to Dornish forces and that they would rest up for a few days before marching towards Griffin's Roost, Jon's old seat. "My cousin's son will have to make a choice." Jon noted.

"Write to him." Luke shrugged. "Maybe your words will persuade him that my claim is correct."

Jon thought about it and couldn't see the harm. "If you'll excuse me, Your Grace, I'll prepare to leave and write the letter now."

"Take Ser Barristan with you." Luke said quickly as Jon was just about to turn away.

"Ser Barristan is the Lord Commander of your Kingsguard." Jon told Luke. "No, I cannot."

Luke wasn't taking no for an answer. "He is also the only person on Dragonstone that I trust enough to go with you, and that Mace Tyrell will respect enough to make him want to accept our alliance. I need him more as a symbol than I do as a bodyguard. I'll have Rolly, Caspor and Franklyn here."

"Ser Barristan has already accepted, Lord Hand." Frankyln Flowers told the Stormlander.

Jon didn't like the idea of leaving Luke without the protection of the famous knight but could see he was fighting a losing battle. "Very well." He sighed.

Luke grinned and clapped Jon on the back. "I can feel it in the air, Jon. Victory. It's close, I can almost taste it."

A few days after Jon and Barristan's departure a lone ship was spotted in the distance coming towards Dragonstone from the west. Luke watched it sail around the island to dock in the deep-water ports from the Dragonstone bridge, noticing the lack of a sigil on the ship's sails, but the white sails meaning asking for a parley was telling.

He had Ser Caspor Hill greet the newcomer on the beach along with Chains, the large and unwelcoming commander of the elephants, as Luke himself walked back up to the castle and sat himself down on the obsidian throne. Valaxes was perched on the top of the throne, the black dragon growing larger every day. He also had a dozen men of the Golden Company line each side of the room as Franklyn and Rolly Duckfield stood either side of the throne. It was an obvious power play, but Luke couldn't afford to let himself look weak with whoever was coming to treat with him.

Maester Pylos had placed the Valyrian Steel crown of Aegon the Conqueror on his head mere moments before the doors were opened by more Golden Company soldiers in the corridor outside, and in came Chains and Ser Caspor, leading a lone man with long, silver-gold hair and a sea green seahorse on his white surcoat.

"You are in the presence of Lucerys, the first of his name. Rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Captain-General of the Golden Company, Lord of the Seven Kingdom's and Protector of the Realm." His announcer stated proudly.

The man nodded with a smirk. "I'm Aurane Waters, bastard of Driftmark." He shrugged.

A bastard. Luke didn't let his frustration at being treated with by a bastard show. "Why are you here, Aurane Waters? Your Lord has sided with Stannis Baratheon, has he not?"

"He has." Aurane nodded. "Before he knew that across the Narrow Sea there was a Targaryen preparing to take the Iron Throne. Before Stannis Baratheon ended up warring with his brother."

"Yet he still followed the man." Luke countered, narrowing his eyes.

"My brother follows Dragonstone, as members of his House have done since the Targaryen's left Valyria." Aurane bit back. "My ancestors followed Aegon Targaryen as he embarked on his conquest, they followed Rhaenyra Targaryen in the Dance of the Dragons, they followed Daeron the Young Dragon as he tried to conquer Dorne, my own Father followed King Aerys in the rebellion. We followed Stannis while he had the island, but now he's in Storm's End raging about your letter after killing his own brother."

That last statement interested Luke, and he leant forward as he said. "We heard that a woman killed Renly Baratheon. A woman from Tarth."

Aurane actually laughed. "As did we, we also heard that Catelyn Stark killed him. But Catelyn Stark was on Renly's side in the parlay and those that saw it said that a big woman wearing armour from Tarth was Renly's most defensive voice. Who really wanted Renly dead, with both a motive and a witch to do so?"

"Stannis, so that he could gain the Stormlands." Luke said realising as he leant back on the Throne informally.

"Indeed, and my brother feels unhappy at serving a supposed kinslayer." Aurane told Luke. "As does Lord Celtigar."

"So what are you proposing?" Luke asked.

"Me? Nothing, Your Grace." Aurane told him. He held a sealed letter in his hand and held it out. "My brother and Lord Ardrian though? That's not for my eyes."

Luke stared at Aurane Waters cynically for a moment before he nodded to the Maester to go and retrieve the letter for him. It was quickly in Luke's hands, and he broke both the seahorse seal of House Velaryon and the red crab of House Celtigar before unravelling the parchment and reading the words scribbled on it.

Luke grinned at the words, rereading it all once more to make sure he understood. "Very well." He said, standing up. "Your brother asks you bend the knee to me here and now on behalf of him to prove your islands loyalty to House Targaryen."

Aurane wasted no time, sinking to one of his knees and moving his eyes to look at the stone flooring. "Driftmark is yours, Your Grace, as is the loyalty of House Velaryon."

Luke nodded happily. "Rise, Aurane." He turned to the announcer. "See that Aurane has comfortable rooms and a hot meal, he'll be needed to return to Driftmark as soon as he can."

"Your Grace." The man bowed.

Luke then turned to Ser Rolly Duckfield. "Go and let all the searjents know that Stannis Baratheon will soon be sailing for us. Prepare all defences and crews. We'll break him here and end the Baratheon line once and for all."

It had been a long march from the Dornish Marches to Griffin's Roost, as the Dornish army had been forced to travel through the Rainwood in order to reach the stronghold of House Connington. That of course had meant that Stonehelm, Grandview and Crow's Nest had all had to be taken. Thankfully for Oberyn, the skeleton garrisons hadn't been too much of an issue, but it would still be too much Dornish blood for his brother's liking.

Griffin's Roost was an interesting castle. There was a gatehouse on the mainland that led to a steep crag jotting out into the westernmost part of Shipbreaker Bay that was the width of a single pathway, that then led to the castle mounted on a rocky hill in the bay with red stone cliffs. It was a daunting castle to take, as Oberyn would need to take both the gatehouse and the castle, and the casualties would have been massive.

He was extremely surprised however to see Ser Ronnet Connington announced to him in Oberyn's own tent. The Stormlander took bread and salt, and eyed Oberyn up suspiciously. "You have a strong host, Prince Oberyn."

Oberyn grinned. "It has been a while since Dorne was respected in the field. I cannot wait for that to change."

"You've come to the wrong castle then. Half of these men will be dead long before you get men on the walls of the Roost. Half again will be dead before the Griffin banner is torn from my walls." Ronnet said defiantly.

Oberyn shrugged. "Perhaps that is so, but you are fighting against the true King of Westeros, Ser. You are fighting against your own cousin."

"My Father's cousin." Ronnet argued. "A man I haven't seen since I was a boy. A man that is solely responsible for the loss of our lordship, of our lands."

"A man that is now hand to Lucerys Targaryen, the First of his Name." Oberyn countered, pouring out a glass of Dornish red and taking a long sip from it before handing it to Ser Ronnet to prove it wasn't poisoned. The red head took the goblet suspiciously as Oberyn poured himself a drink.

"He's been gone for so long." Ronnet admitted. "How am I to know that he isn't going to revoke my castle from me and take over once again?"

Oberyn smirked. "Let us speak plainly, Ser. You clearly do not trust Stannis Baratheon or else you would be on your way to Dragonstone as we speak. You clearly do not wish to fight for the bastard Joffrey Waters, or you would not be here also."

"I followed Renly, and Stannis somehow had him killed." Ronnet spat angrily. "I do not know how, but he did. Stannis can hang."

"And he will, one day." Oberyn told the Stormlander. "Which will leave Storm's End to his daughter, who is now married to your cousin."

The news obviously hadn't travelled this far, as Ronnet was taken aback by that. "Jon is wed to Shireen Baratheon?"

"Wedded and bedded, my King has told me." Oberyn nodded. "So Jon will be a bit busy to take this castle back while he is Lord of Storm's End and Hand of the King. Your seat is safe, Ser."

Ronnet relaxed at that and brought out an opened letter. "He wrote to me, Jon." The red head explained. "Encouraged me to bend the knee to Lucerys and join my forces with you. I thought it was madness, that I would be hanged for a traitor or something for taking his seat."

"Jon Connington is a miserable old man, but he would never betray the King like that." Oberyn told Ronnet. "He has been told that he will be Lord of Storm's End. You will bow to him as your liege lord of course, but he shall not take Griffin's Roost as his own."

Ronnet nodded slowly, taking it in. "So what are you to do after you take Griffin's Roost, or I bend to the Targaryen?"

Oberyn laughed. "If I tell you that, what's to stop you running off and sending a raven to Stannis, or anybody."

"The fact that Stannis is currently sailing." Ronnet told Oberyn with a smirk. "No news would reach him until he either died or took back Dragonstone, which with his numbers I highly doubt he'll do. But I'll bend my knee to your King, Oberyn. I know when I'm beaten."

"Ser, we have not even started fighting." Oberyn grinned. "We are but two old tourney friends having a delicate conversation."

"With close to 30,000 men outside my gates I wouldn't call this friendly." Ronnet scoffed. "But very well. I presume I can make my pledge to you for now?"

Oberyn laughed again, enjoying this. "There's a dragon banner in the corner over there, kneel before that and I shall vouch for you to the King." Ronnet groaned, but did as he said he would, kneeling before the banner and pledging himself to King Lucerys of House Targaryen. "Excellent." Oberyn clapped his hands and shook Ronnet's hand afterwards. "Now, how strong is your host here?"

"Around 1,000 men, but mainly green boys and old men." Ronnet said grimly. "I sent my strong host with Renly Baratheon and they joined Stannis once he died. But they're all Stormlanders and know the area."

"They will come in handy I am sure." Oberyn said happily.

"So what is the plan?"

Oberyn grinned. "Your cousin is to be the Lord of Storm's End, no?" HE asked in his sultry accent. "Then we must take the castle he hopes to rule."

The Fury was near the back of the armada as it sailed northwards on the Narrow Sea, so Stannis Baratheon could stare outwards at the mass of ships carrying his 20,000 men to Dragonstone from the prow, the ships now filled to the brim with soldiers. He had been left alone for the most part since leaving Storm's End, with his men not wishing to provoke him into anger, an occurrence that came regularly after the Targaryen's letter.

He kept the letter on him at all times, the thought of his little girl being molested by a traitor giving him a drive like he hadn't seen since he watched Mace Tyrell and thousands of Reachmen camped outside of Storm's End feasting while he had to force leather down Renly's throat to keep his younger brother alive. Stannis shook his head at the thought, thinking back on Renly would only distract him, with the look of his younger brother's shocked stare into a mirror still haunting his dreams.

He heard soft footsteps come towards him and knew who it was instantly as already the air felt warmer. He said nothing, and just glared into the distance.

"My King." Melisandre said.

"What do you want?" Stannis asked snappily.

Melisandre placed her hands on the raised rail and stared out to sea. "I want to play my part in the Great War." She admitted. "I want to see you take your rightful place on the Iron Throne, leading this country through the darkness. I want to spread the knowledge of the one true god."

"And what about Shireen?" Stannis asked. "Go on, look in your flames and tell me about my daughter."

Melisandre turned to him with a knowing smile. "My King, if the Princess was to be harmed then we would already know about it. The Valyrian needs her alive."

"But what do you see." Stannis urged, almost desperately.

Melisandre smiled, looking into his deep blue eyes. "I see you, fighting in the snow."

"In snow?" Stannis scoffed.

Melisandre nodded. "You win this battle and will go on to many more. Your cause is just, and the Lord sees that. He would not have granted you his power if he did not. He will grant it again if you desire."

She placed her hand delicately on his chest, rubbing it gently through the steel chest plate. Stannis looked down at her in surprise, moving his own hand to grip her wrist tightly, pulling it away from his body.

"You think I want to do that when my daughter is in danger?" He asked incredulously, throwing her hand away roughly. "Have some decency woman."

"My King…" Melisandre lowered her head submissively.

"Leave me be." Stannis said gruffly, not looking at the red woman. "And I'll forget that this conversation ever happened." The Baratheon Lord turned away from the shadow binder and walked back towards his cabin, not able to get the image of a severely distressed Shireen out of his mind.

The bells of Dragonstone began to ring in the middle of the night, waking Luke up. He wasn't even out of bed when his squire burst into the room, an action which caused Valaxes to hiss in the corner. "Your Grace!" Edric Dayne shouted. "We're under attack!"

The boy was already clumsily in his chainmail and surcoat, which Luke had to admit that he was impressed at the speed of the boy. "Is my armour ready?" Luke asked. Edric nodded, moving over to a mannequin in the corner of Luke's room that was hidden by a curtain. Edric pulled the curtain away and Luke looked at the black steel that he had worn for his coronation determinedly. Within ten minutes he was in his armour and ready. Edric Dayne handed him the belt which housed Blackfyre, and Luke tied that around his waist. "Go and find Ser Franklyn. Tell him to send out the fleet and bleed Baratheon as much as possible. I don't want any Baratheon filth stepping foot on this island."

"At once, Your Grace." Edric bowed. The Dornish boy then bolted out of the room, leaving Luke alone for a moment.

The Targaryen looked over to the corner of the room where Valaxes was in the process of waking up. He was only about the size of a small cat still, but Luke couldn't bare to lock him up while the battle raged. "Come." He barked out in his native Valyrian. Valaxes let out a high pitched groan, but got on his hind legs and stretched out his wings before he launched into the air and landed on Luke's shoulders.

As he left his room and walked through the castle he was soon joined by Ser Rolly Duckfield and Ser Caspor Hill of his Kingsguard. "Your Grace. The fleet is preparing."

"Good." Luke nodded.

"The Vhaegon is waiting for your command as well, Your Grace." Ser Caspor added.

"I'll join them shortly; I just have one more thing to do before I go." Luke admitted. "Rolly, go and make sure the vanguard have the catapults ready." Rolly bowed and left Luke alone with his dragon and last Kingsguard. Luke began to walk further into the castle. "Caspor, I have a different job for you, one I fear you won't like."

They soon reached Jon Connington's chambers where Luke entered them alone, with Valaxes flying into the room and landing on a table causing the Baratheon girl to shriek a little at the surprise before she stood up and curtseyed quickly towards Luke. "Your…. Your Grace."

"My Lady." Luke smiled fakely. "I trust you are well?" Shireen only nodded, her eyes wide in either fear or awe of Valaxes. "I presume you know what the bells mean." Again, Shireen nodded. "Then I will warn you only the once. Your Father will not retake this island, it is more likely that he dies assaulting it. If you try to escape during the fighting, then my friend Caspor outside the door will stop you by any means necessary. You remember Caspor, don't you?" Shireen nodded once more. "Good. I expect to see you afterwards, My Lady." He bowed politely just before turning and leaving the girl alone. The door shut behind him as Valaxes followed the Targaryen out, and Luke stopped next to Caspor Hill. "If she does try to escape, remove her head." He told the bulky Kingsguard knight.

He didn't wait for a response, instead striding through the castle corridors until he reached the Chamber of the Painted Table. There were braziers illuminating both the room and the open balcony at the back of it. Luke walked towards the balcony where his ships were starting to pull out in order to meet Stannis' own fleet, with Luke's fleet beginning to fire flaming missiles from catapults into the horizon. Even though he was the one being assaulted, Luke smirked as he looked down as the battle started, feeling Valaxes land on his shoulder once again while screeching.

"Soon your head will be laid at my feet." Luke said quietly towards the vague direction Stannis Baratheon. "Soon my ancestors will smile down at me as the male line of Baratheon becomes extinct."

So Stannis sails to battle, but there is division within his ranks… Will that matter, or will his expertise as a commander prevail? That's one for next time…

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think!

Reviews:

DaddyChad: The dragons are tiny at the moment, so with Luke already boasting that he has Blackfyre and Aegon's crown, he felt like he could leave that as a surprise, especially while they can't be used in war.

TheOnlyKing: The Durrandons were a proud house, and that was passed down to the Baratheons.

Lord Villarreal of house Grand: You're assuming he's going to be put completely out of action… Robb will wait and see what happens, while continuing his own war in the West considering the only ones he has a problem with are the Lannisters.

StormNightSS: They will be a thing, but we are in Season 2 of show time at the moment so they're tiny.

Dunk an Egg: There might be a jump after Season 5 I've not quite worked out everything after Season 4 yet, I have rough plot points that I'll hit but not a chapter by chapter guide that I normally have. As for the 'teleportation powers' my personal head canon is that the last two seasons took place over an extended period of time.

Guest (Marrying): So is marrying a 15-year-old to Walder Frey, but that happened in the show. This is what the world would be like, Shireen is purely a tool for Luke to exploit.