Robb Stark: One True King

Chapter 7.

A/N: A lot of you are confused by the deal that was made by the Iron Bank and Cersei Lannister. By the end of this chapter you will know why the Iron Bank choose to ally with Cersei and offer her what they did.

Also some of you may be confused on why Robb is allowing Renly to sit on the Iron Throne. The reason for that is because Robb doesn't want the Iron Throne, he will rule from Westeros like all the Kings in the North. However, that doesn't mean Renly will the true king as he will be the king of the Stormlands and Reach. The Riverlands, Westerlands and the North have all declared Robb their king so they will not follow Renly. As for Dorne they are also going to serve Robb as he is the greater power.

Also as for the reason why Renly and Loras are been allowed to marry, well that is because the marriage will be a secret one and a lie will be made about Renly been infertile. For this reason, Gendry will be legitimised.

Theon Greyjoy.

The wait had been long. He and Yara had been waiting around along with their crew for the choosing to begin. Looking around them they could see that everyone was cautious and full of curiosity about who would be named the new King of the Iron Islanders.

"We speak in the presence of the Drowned God." It was the priest of the Drowned God that spoke. His white robes billowing in the wind. "In his name we gather today to choose a new king, as our leader. Who makes a claim?" Confidently Theon strode forward gaining the attention of every Iron Islander gathered.

"I am Theon Greyjoy. Only living son of Balon Greyjoy, king of the Iron Islands." Walking forwards to stand beside the priest, he turned to face the Iron Islanders. "I claim the Salt Throne." No one spoke as they stared at him. "Our little raids do nothing. Our invasion of Westeros has been thwarted by Maege Mormont. Yet, me and Yara have been the most successful. The lords of Westeros pay us no mind. We are no threat to them, Robb Stark's constant victory over us is proof of that."

"It's true that you are Balon's last living heir. But you have been a Stark all your life." One man stated much to the agreement of those gathered.

"Aye, I was raised by the Stark's, but I never forgot who I was at heart. If I was a Stark, would I have stayed and fought alongside you, would I have helped you invade the North?" Many of those that doubted him began to second guess their thoughts. "I betrayed Robb Stark, choosing family above all." Here he looked at Yara who nodded her head towards him.

"Honestly, calm the fuck down." A deep voice drawled. The crowd parted revealing Euron Greyjoy striding towards them, his steps confident and sure. "I, Euron Greyjoy also wish to make a claim." Practically jumping up to the side opposite to Theon, he spread his arms out wide. "My dear nephew is right. The Iron Islanders have been seen as weak for too long. I say we build a fleet, an Iron fleet of one thousand ships. With this fleet I will set sail for Essos and I'll introduced the widowed Dragon Queen to my big cock." Here he grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips out electing cheers from every Iron Islander. "Then together we shall set fire to Westeros!"

They cheered loudly and it started out small, but slowly more and more of those gathered joined in. "Euron! Euron!" It continued on and on, until it became obvious on who would become victor of the choosing. Grinning madly Euron spread his arms out wide.

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Opening the door, he walked in finding Euron sat at a wooden table, his legs kicked up on the table and an apple knife in different hands. As soon as he saw them two come in he gave a large grin and placed his knife and apple on the table.

"Welcome." Euron studied his face and saw that Theon was glaring at him with hatred. Smirking, Euron picked up the knife and pointed it at him. "I know you're angry. But I hope this won't come between us. After all we are family and it'd be such a pity if I had to kill you for insubordination." The threat was clear, join him or die.

Gritting his teeth in anger. Theon glared at Euron with great hatred.

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Brynden Tully.

Six weeks, one and half months. That's how long it had been since Robb Stark had defeated Renly. The battle from what he had heard had been one for the ages. After the battle had been won, the losses had been tallied and it had further cemented Robb Stark as a legendary figure that would be remembered for many years to come.

Robb and his host of fifty thousand men along with the Dornish host of ten thousand had not suffered as many losses as Renly did. Out of the fifty thousand men from the Northern-Westerland army about fifteen thousand men had been lost, from the Dornish army about two thousand men. In total the losses had been heavy, numbering at a total of seventeen thousand men been killed.

Renly however had lost at least half of his army, leaving only twenty-five thousand Stormlanders remaining after the battle. Now with Renly joining Robb, the army had grown to fifty-eight thousand.

Not only that, but with Renly following Robb, the Reach had been brought into the fold. That alone increases their host by seventy-two thousand. In total, Robb could muster a force that numbered around one hundred and sixty-five thousand. That alone would make any man a force to reckoned with, add that with at least four tactical geniuses to use the numbers, it made an unstoppable force.

Stood in his war tent camped on the borderline of the Reach and the Westerlands. He along with Randyll Tarly had been give joint command over the Riverland-Reach army which had a total of one hundred and seven thousand men.

Groaning in both embarrassment and frustration, Brynden collapsed backwards into his chair. Across from him, Randyll Tarly chuckled.

"It seems your nephew is more of a fool than I originally took him for." He gave another groan as an answer. Rubbing his eyes he stared at the map, more specifically at the Crownlands. A week ago his nephew came to him demanding that they march into the Crownlands and begin laying siege to Kings Landing. With the size of his force Edmure believed that it would be an easy victory.

However, he had refused. Stating that Robb did not wish to siege Kings Landing just yet. Instead he wished to wait. Of course Edmure had took this the completely wrong way, believing that Robb simply wished to claim the glory all for himself.

Brynden had not dissuaded him of this thought, but had simply sat there in silence listening to his nephew throw a tantrum. Once Edmure had finished and calmed down, Brynden once again expressed the explicit orders they had been given. As he watched his nephew leave the tent he could only hope he would not do anything foolish.

Looking back on it he should have given orders to have him watched as that very night he along with fifteen thousand Riverlanders had gone to the Crownlands.

Out of those fifteen thousand men, only seven thousand returned, most injured. Edmure had not been among them. His interrogation of the men had not been that difficult. Each of them had been willing to give up the information he needed in hopes of avoiding severe punishment.

The battle had not been a battle, but a slaughter. They had gone in confident of facing know opposition. So while they were sleeping after getting drunk as an early celebratory event, the enemy attacked. Unsullied from what he could piece together, ten thousand of them as well. A sizeable force made even more dangerous due to the training they underwent.

"I always knew he was stupid, but I didn't think he would be this fucking stupid." Randyll gave another chuckle of amusment.

"His grace will need to know of this."

"I'll send him a raven." Nodding his head, Randyll stood up.

"While you do that, I'm going to go check on our supplies."

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Robb Stark.

Sighing, Robb interlocked his fingers together and glared at nothing in particular. News of his uncle, Edmure disobeying his orders and then been defeated by a host of Unsullied was troubling.

On one hand it provided him with information on the enemy. However, on the down side he had lost eight thousand men due to his uncle's overzealousness. True, it served as a type of punishment for their treasonous actions, but right now he needed every single man he could to combat the unknown number of enemy troops.

The flaps to his tent opened and in came, Renly Baratheon, Oberyn Martell and Greatjon Umber. The three top commanders of his armies.

"I want the patrols on our borders to the Crownlands doubled. I want everything that moves in that kingdom to be reported to me directly." The three nodded their head and left quickly to do as he commanded.

He would not lose, not when he was so close to getting revenge against the Lannister's that caused this war. Pulling out a parchment of paper he began to write out instructions that would help improve their chances of victory.

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Aegon Targaryen.

The journey to Westeros had been filled with anticipation. The news of Robb Stark's recent victories had inspired him to do the same. His original plan was to display his power by conquering Kings Landing with his army. But the recent events of Westeros had changed his plans. With Robb Stark having beaten Renly and gained the backing of those under him.

To stand any chance he would need every last man at his disposal. So under the disguise of been one of the three commanders of the Golden Company. He along with seventeen others, three Golden company leaders, three Sellsword captains and two Unsullied commanders along with seventeen additional warriors acting as guards they infiltrated the city. Everywhere he went he could see poverty, children starving and woman whoring themselves out to anyone with money to spend.

It disgusted him. How these people, his people were forced to live in such poverty. All because of an inbred, imposter that called himself king.

No longer. With a new sense of purpose he marched through the Red Keep and entered the throne room. And there sat the boy king, the second coming of the Mad King they called him. From what he had heard of the boy deserved that title.

"So you are the Sellsword's my uncle hired?" The boy screamed arrogance, the way he sat on the chair, the way he spoke and above all, the way he looked down on them. "You don't look very impressive." He sneered. All around the throne room, the lords that were gathered stifled their chuckles. Though it was obvious to tell that there laughter was faked.

"Neither do you, but then looks can be deceiving." Aegon sneered back. All around the room people froze at the bravery shown by a simple Sellsword.

"Who do you think you are?! I am the king, guards arrest this man!" The few Kingsguard that were in the room, fifteen in total. Obviously the people of Westeros were too arrogant to realise that foreigners may just be as skilled as themselves. So with a snap of his fingers, his own guards easily dispatched the enemy.

Disarming, dismembering and killing the Kingsguard with skill the Westerosi had not expected.

All the while, Aegon moved forwards through the room. Avoiding any guard coming his way and moving towards the Iron Throne. After a few moments he stood directly in front of the Iron Throne and the child sat upon it. Behind him the Kingsguard had been dealt with, his own guard detail were pointing their weapons at the lords around the room, daring them to try anything.

Gripping the expensive looking tunic of Joffrey, he chucked the boy down the stairs. Turning around he faced every lord and lady.

"My name is Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. Rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and I have come out of self-exile to reclaim my birthright." His voice was confident and full of charisma.

One by one, the lords and ladies proclaimed their loyalty. Smirking, Aegon sat down on the Iron Throne. Feeling a sense of accomplishment as he finally took back his families seat of power. Now it was time to retake Westeros so that the Targaryen name would be as respected as it once was. His grandfather had made it feared, he would return it to what it once. A name of power and respect.

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Oberyn Martell.

He had thought he would have been happy at the thought of the Targaryen's returning to Westeros. Now though he wasn't too sure. The Targaryen's didn't have their dragons, they didn't have an army to match Robb's and the so called 'Targaryen' king was dead. Aegon, the son of his beloved sister had been killed by the Mountain. He had held the battered and broken body of the babe.

Now some imposter was claiming to be his nephew. Oh when he got hold of the boy he would tear him limb from limb for this insult. Across from him, his brother, Doran Martell was no different. He was also full of anger at the imposters insult to their family.

"Hello, my lords." It was a voice they had grown accustomed to in these past months. Turning around they saw Robb Stark stood there, Grey Wind and Nymeria flanked either side of him. As the tent flaps behind him closed they managed to catch a glimpse of multiple guards waiting with weapons drawn. "I'm sure you know why I'm here."

"I'm guessing it has something to do with the Targaryen king now sitting on the Iron Throne." He said. Robb simply stared.

"You wish to know where out loyalties lie?" Doran asked, though his tone voice showed he didn't really need to ask the question. The Young Wolf nodded his head. "Our loyalties lie with you, your Grace. The 'Aegon Targaryen' currently sat on the Iron Throne is not my nephew despite what he claims." Robb stared at the two for a few minutes longer, his eyes judging them.

"If it would please you, your Grace. We can repeat what we did with Renly. Aegon expects Dorne to come to his aid as he is 'family,' so when we arrive he will allow us in. There is a chance he will keep us under constant watch, but when you arrive their watch on us will mean nothing." Oberyn offered. He watched with baited breath as Robb pondered over the idea, the Young Stark king thinking of all possible advantages and disadvantages. Slowly after a few minutes of tense silence, Robb nodded his head.

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Daenerys Targaryen.

Giving a sigh of relief as the trivial matters of the people in Meeren were completed she allowed herself to relax. For the past year she had been making Meeren one of the greatest cities in all of Essos. Using the wealth she had stolen from the Masters, she had improved the agriculture of her city and had also improved the living conditions of the cities inhabitants.

Not only that but she had created a training ground for all the slaves, male and female who wished to fight for her. Out of the hundred thousand slaves that had been freed, around half had joined up. With it she has the eldest Unsullied, Second Sons and Ser Barristan Selmy oversee their training.

Only around twenty thousand were nearing the completion of her training.

The remaining fifty thousand slaves that had not joined her army, either joined her increasing fleet or created lives as farmers or fishermen. No one could deny that she had become a successful ruler, bringing peace and prosperity to the lands of Meeren. However, not all saw it that way. Masters from Volantis, Braavos and New Ghis had retaken Yunkai and Astapor. She had hoped the masters would see that slavery was not everything. Obviously they did not and so she would have to put an end to all the masters before she could return to Westeros.

"Your Grace!" It was Ser Jorah Mormont, a man who had been with her through the harsh times as the wife of Khal Drogo. It was for that reason she didn't get too angry that her first time of peace and quiet for the day had been interrupted.

"What is it Ser Jorah?" She asked tiredly.

"There have been sightings of an army moving towards the city. They number five thousands in total." Five thousand. Barely an adequate number, especially considering her original army numbered ten thousand, add that with the slaves currently in training made her confident in her victory.

"How far away are they?" Ser Jorah hesitated for a few moments.

"Outside the gates, your Grace." He said. All she did in return was raise an eyebrow.

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It had only took a few moments to get outside the gate and meet the leaders of the army halfway. The leaders of the enemy had been a large surprise to her. Big and bulky like the Dothraki, but had the skin colour matching that of Ser Jorah, a northmen. But one person stood out amongst them all. A short man, a dwarf.

"What's Tyrion Lannister doing here?" She heard Ser Jorah ask Ser Barristan.

"So you are Tyrion Lannister." Daenerys said, gaining the dwarfs attention.

"And you are the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen." Tyrion replied. The two stared at one another for a few more moments. "I would like to offer my condolences for what happened to your family in the previous war." Daenerys knew he didn't really mean it, but did it out of necessity.

"Thank you. But I must ask, what was the real reason you came to speak to me because I doubt it is to offer your condolences?"

"The war in Westeros has escalated and I feared for my life and the life of the one I love. I didn't know if Robb Stark would spare my life, so I took my chances with you instead." Tyrion suppled.

"Robb Stark is still alive!" Ser Barristan exclaimed in shock. Tyrion snorted in amusment.

"Alive!" He chuckled with amusment. "He's doing more than just surviving, he's winning the bloody war!" Tyrion proclaimed. Behind him the exiled northmen gave a cheer. It was something he had noticed was common among the northmen, mention a victory won by a northerner and they became the most cheerful bunch of people you've ever met.

She had of course heard of the War of Five Kings had been made to believe that Robb Stark, a young man the same age as her would not survive long in the war. To hear he was winning didn't really mean anything to her as she didn't really know the Young Wolf. To her it didn't matter who sat on the Iron Throne, with her dragons victory was hers.

"Thank you for the information, Tyrion but as of right now I'm more interested in why you brought an army to my gates?" Tyrion turned his slightly amused gaze from Ser Jorah and Barristan, too her.

"Ah well. On my way to Meeren we were attacked by a horde of Dothraki. These fine fellas, and ladies." He added quickly when his gaze turned to the Mormont woman. "Came along and saved my ass and the asses of those accompanying me and my wife." Well, Shae was not his wife but they planned to. "They offered to escort us here."

"Well, I cannot fault you for that." Daenerys said. Turning to the leaders of the Company of Roses she spoke, "thank you for your assisting those slaves that wished to be free. Warriors such as yourselves would be greatly appreciated among my ranks." The leaders chuckled in amusment electing looks of confusion from herself and her guards. "What's so funny?" She asked.

"You mistake our intentions. We did not come to join you. Our ancestors entered self-exile after Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Targaryen's. It'd be pretty hypocritical of us to do the exact opposite of our ancestors." Brandon Umber said.

"You are northmen?" Ser Jorah asked.

"Yea, more than you'll ever be, slaver." The female, Alysane Mormont snarled. "Yea we know what you are and what you've done. You have dishonoured our family name!" Ser Jorah gaped at the Mormont woman.

Nodding her head, Daenerys allowed the Mormont woman to continue to verbally attack Ser Jorah. While Ser Jorah was a trusted friend, she too was disgusted with his previous actions. If someone of her family did the same she would do what the woman was doing before her, that's why she was allowing the Mormont to do so.

"I believe you have said enough." Daenerys said after a few more minutes. All around her the warriors looked in amusment from the mortified Ser Jorah and the panting Alysane Mormont. "I am guessing that you are going to join with Robb Stark?"

"We swore to bow to no king except a northern one. Now there is one." Brandon said. Daenerys found the northern loyalty to be a very endearing quality. So she could not fault them for following their hearts.

"I wish you luck in the years to come."

"And too you to." Brandon replied. Then he tugged on the reign of his horse and began to leave. Tyrion watched the Company of Roses leave, knowing that the next time they met it would be on opposite sides.

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Jon Snow.

Ten months and three weeks, that's how long it had been since he along with Maege Mormont had defeated the Wildling invasion. The months following had been a lot more difficult to deal with than battles themselves. This was because he had to take in the amount of people had died. Whether they be Sworn Brothers or Wildlings.

After the final battle the dead had for the Night's Watch had piled up to a total eight hundred men had died, however thanks to the timely arrival of an additional two thousand war prisoners from his brother, meant he had not lost all of those that named him Lord Commander. Thankfully his brother's reputation made the prisoners very docile in terms of taking orders, knowing if they didn't, Robb might come for them.

Out of the Northmen that came to assist them, they lost a total of one thousand men. Then there was the Wildling's, they had lost a total of sixty-four thousand men of their total army.

"Alright, this is the last of them." Jon spoke up, there were a total of seven Rangers along with them and it was their job to find all the remaining Wildlings. A few months ago, Robb had given them permission to have the remaining thirty-six thousand Wildling warriors and the twenty thousand that were in follower's camp to take Dragon Stone, which was currently under the command of Stannis loyalists.

Jon had seen Robb's plan, but it had taken him a week to figure it out. Robb knew the Wildling's wouldn't do as he wanted them to do because they refused to bow to him, but they would do what he wanted in a way that he sounded like he didn't need their help at all.

He was offering them a home, but they would have to fight for it. The Wildlings would do it, but would also unknowingly take out one of Robb's enemies. Before the war his brother would have never been able to do this. However, they had both changed. Their different occupations had made them change and gain new attributes.

They were beginning to move through the forest when his eyes caught sight of him. Just behind the fire they had set alight when they found some Wildlings had died. It was in the treelines, looking closely he saw a creature that seemed to be made entirely of ice, but one thing that stood out was the bright blue eyes. An Other, a White Walker but they were dead.

Just as quickly as it got there, it disappeared.

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Robb Stark.

Growling with frustration Robb rose to his feet, his hands resting on the table and his body hunched over as he glared at Mace Tyrell. All around the room, the lords of the North, Westerlands and the Stormlands looked between himself and Mace Tyrell with barely hidden amusment.

To the Stormlands it had been a common occurrence during their war meets when they followed Renly, but to the Northmen and Westerlanders it was a new experience. Sure they had seen Robb angry, especially when his mother and father were killed, but they had not seen him annoyed. Then again there was a first time for everything.

It had all started like any normal day for him. He called his banners as they discussed on what to do with the Targaryen King sat on the Iron Throne. That was until Mace Tyrell appeared in the tent after travelling from the Reach. The fool then proceeded to demand Robb to postpone any war plan until Robb was married to his daughter and had conceived an heir. He had tried to explain to Mace Tyrell that he had not put any thought into marriage of any kind, but the fool had not listened.

And so they found themselves here.

"Lord Tyrell." He stressed the word 'lord' to show Mace his place. The big oaf seemed to realise he had overstepped as he shut up instantly. "I have told you multiple times now, I have put no thought into marriage as the war is of more pressing concerns."

"But Lord Stark." Once again the man stopped as all around the room the lords tensed.

"I believe you mistake his Graces title, Lord Tyrell. He is no lord, but a king. You'd do well to remember that." Roose Bolton said calmly. Mace Tyrell nodded quickly.

"Forgive me, your Grace." Mace bowed lowly and rose up seeing Robb stare at him with indifference.

"Lord Tyrell. You have not only come into a war meeting and demanded I put a stop to all war plans, which could cause us to lose any advantage we have. But, then you demand I give your daughter my heir, a woman mind you I have not put any thought into marrying. Then above all you insult me to my face." Robb said in a low tone. "You have outstayed your welcome, my lord." The man nodded his head and quickly left to the tent followed by the sound of laughter at his expense.

"You know, despite been a fool, he is correct." Renly spoke after a few moments of silence. He coughed in slight embarrassment as every eye came to rest upon him. "If you die, you have no heir, your brother Jon Snow, when he was but a Sworn Brother would have been able to become your heir however, he is now Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and so he cannot leave. You need an heir or war will continue even if you die." There was a pause before he continued.

"The Lords of the North, Westerlands, Riverlands and now the Stormlands and the Reach follow you not only because you defeated us, but because you give us hope for peace. A peace that will last longer than any other. The reign of the Targaryen's was riddled with rebellion after rebellion, and now we have a chance of peace under a new king. You."

"You wish for me to take the Iron Throne?"

"Yes." Renly said gaining nods from the other lords.

"And what do the Lords of the North say?"

"While we want independence." Greatjon said. "A Northerner sat on the Iron Throne is much better than Southerner." He finally said boisterously gaining roars of approval.

"Yes, while this does sort out the problem of there been a king to take the Iron Throne. That does not account for your lack of heir." Roose spoke up. Many lords nodded in agreement. Robb pondered this for a few moments. If he was to marry a northern woman it would not gain him the full support of the southern armies. However, if he married a southern woman the northerners would take offense. Eddard had married a southerner due to the Tully's been quite a powerful house, nowhere near as powerful as the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms, but still powerful.

His mind played over what could be used to appease, both the northerners and the southerners. If he married a southerner, Margaery Tyrell in particular he would have the support of the Reach, which would be needed with the Targaryen King sat on the throne and a Targaryen Queen in Essos. The Northern houses would accept this, but only just due to the vast wealth that the Tyrell's possessed.

Then there was the matter of the Northerners themselves.

Rickon was at an age in which he could potentially marry Lyanna Mormont who is the same age as him. This along with him being fostered at Bear Island would create a strong bond between two very powerful houses in the North. Jojen Reed, Lord Reed's son was currently a year older than Arya, and from what he had heard was not one to control others. This was a good sign as Arya would have caused problems for him if he tried to control her.

Not only that, but the southern lords would still not be content with just a single marriage between the kings family and their lords. Renly Baratheon had a niece known as Shireen Baratheon, she was only a year younger than his brother Brandon and would help in keeping the peace. With his mind made up he spoke.

"I do not plan to die anytime soon, Lord Bolton. However, you are correct. Everyone but Dacey, Lord Reed and Lord Baratheon please leave and will someone send in Lord Tyrell." Once the rest of the lords had gone and Mace entered the tent he made his proposal. First to Dacey. "I would like to bond our two families together through the marriage between my youngest brother, Rickon and your younger sister, Lyanna."

"I will send a letter to my mother, but I see no way in which this will be a problem."

"Lord Reed, your son, Jojen is only a year younger than my sister Arya, who unfortunately is missing. However, when she is found I would like to also bond our two families together through marriage." He nodded his head Lord Reed was a man of few words, and only spoke when he needed two. "Renly-"

"You wish to offer a marriage between your brother Brandon and my niece, Shireen don't you?" While he was rubbish in terms of military tactics, he was quite good at politics.

"Yes." The man nodded his head. Finally he looked at Mace Tyrell, who seemed to be brimming with excitement at what was to come. "Lord Tyrell let's get one thing clear. I am the king not you, if you try and order me around like you did just then, I will have you tried with treason. Mark my words." The man nodded his head quickly. "I will marry your daughter, after the war is finished. I don't plan to die until justice for my family has been done and peace is brought to the Seven Kingdoms. When that happens I give you my word, I will marry your daughter." Pacified by this, Mace nodded his head.

"In the meantime, I would like to keep my daughter in your company. To create a friendship of sorts between the two of you." Robb nodded his head and Mace seemed to swell with happiness.

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Aegon Targaryen.

Being King these short few weeks had not been easy. Having to deal with the ruin that had once been Kings Landing. Robert Baratheon and later Joffrey Baratheon had run not only the city, but the entirety of the Crownlands into ruin. Using the wealth he had amassed from his time in Essos he had managed to sort out the state of disrepair that the walls were in. The City Watch and the Kingsguard had been scoped out for any Lannister loyalists. Out of the three thousand men that had protected the city, only a five hundred were not loyal to the Lannister's and only a thousand had been on their pay role. The remaining one thousand five hundred had been stripped of any titles and sent up north to reinforce the Night's Watch.

Thankfully he didn't have to deal with the debt of the Iron Bank. It was due to them creating this 'deal' that he was able to get into Kings Landing. Their offer of the two million gold dragons of their debt being paid off was only made because he had already payed off the debt Westeros owed.

"Your grace." It was Jon Connigton. The man that had raised him, fed him, clothed him and trained him from birth. "A Riverland host of fifteen thousand has been spotted entering our border. At the speed they are travelling at they will be at Kings Landing within two months."

"Who leads them?" He asked him incredulously. What kind of fool takes a month to reach a capital that would normally only take a week and a half?

"Edmure Tully." Jon Connigton stated. That answered things, Edmure Tully was renowned for being a fool. Some say more so than Mace Tyrell.

"I see. Which of our armies is close enough to intercept them."

"Our second Unsullied host is the closest. But a day's march from them."

"Send a raven to Hero. I want them to follow Edmure's host, but keep out of sight of their scouts until I arrive." Jon Connigton hesitated. "What is it?"

"You are the King, your grace. With no heir, if you die in battle the Targaryen line will be in danger of failing. You are the Prince that was Promised, you should not lead your army in these times of war." Jon Connigton explained.

"Tell me, Jon. Does Robb Stark lead his men from the safety of Winterfell, or Riverrun, or Casterly Rock or any of the keeps in his kingdom?" Jon shook his head. "He inspires people because he leads his army, he fights beside the common soldiers. He bleeds with them and apparently he also helps the injured. I will be just like him. Inspiring my warriors." Knowing he was beaten, Jon Connigton bowed and left the Throne room.

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Edmure Tully.

Groaning, he came to. His head was pounding as he looked around his cell. He had been here for a little over three weeks. The battle against the Unsullied had been quick and decisive. His men had been drunk on wine and the victory they never had. Therefore their better armour and weapons had lost their edge. The Unsullied however, had been sober and better trained.

The sound of a lock been undone made him look up to see his cell been opened by a gold cloak.

"The King wishes to see you." The man said before two other gold cloaks freed from his chains. The journey to the Throne room was done in silence except for the sound of his feet been dragged along the ground.

Entering the Throne room he found that the skulls of the dragons had been placed back in. The smallest one were at the front with the bigger ones closest to the throne and upon the Iron Throne was the Targaryen King. He was just like the Targaryen's were said to be, beautiful and handsome with silvery, white hair and purple eyes.

"Welcome Edmure Tully." Aegon declared. "Welcome." Edmure stared strongly into the eyes of the Targaryen King. However, he let out a grunt and collapsed to his knees when a spear impacted against the back of his legs.

"What do you want?" Edmure spat out while struggling against his captors.

"I want to offer you an opportunity." Aegon said calmly, despite the hostility shown to him by the Tully.

"Yea, well fuck your opportunity." One of the City Watch members punched Edmure's jaw causing his head to whip to the side. With a groan, Edmure spat out some blood and glared hatefully at the man who hit him.

"Show some respect to your king." The same Gold cloak snarled.

"He's no king of mine." The Gold cloak went to strike him again however, he was stopped by a cough from the Targaryen king. Glaring at Edmure, the guard stood to full height.

"Robb Stark is your king is he not? And what has your king done for you?" Aegon questioned.

"He has done more for the Seven Kingdoms than you have done in your entire life." Edmure claimed. Despite himself, Aegon clenched his fist in outrage. It was true though, Robb Stark had done more than him.

"Yes, he may have, but what has he done for you? I can offer you so much more. Perhaps, offer you the title of Warden of the Stormlands?" Aegon asked innocently and he took great joy in watching Edmure consider his offer. If this happened it would be a blow to the Young Wolf. "Maybe, Warden of the Vale, or the Reach, or the Westerlands. Perhaps, even Warden of the North. You can have your pick, as long as you choose wisely. Guards, take him back to his cell to think on my offer."

The same two Gold Cloaks that brought him to the Throne Room, moved forwards and dragged him back to his cell. Hi mind alight with the offer from Aegon Targaryen.

-X- Line Break -X-

Aegon Targaryen.

As he watched Edmure been dragged away from the Throne Room, he turned to face his Hand, Jon Connigton. The man had been there for him for as long as he could remember, and for that he was eternally grateful.

"Is that all?" Aegon asked, Jon shook his head.

"Our scouts have reported fifteen thousand men under the Martell banner moving towards Kings Landing. They suspect that they will be here within the fortnight." Nodding his head, Aegon faced the Lords and Ladies gathered within his court.

"Prepare the men, if they are loyal we shall welcome them. If they are enemies we shall show them that nothing can defeat the Dragon." There was a resounding cheer at the declaration he made. However, Aegon knew that they were only trying to gain his favour. They would cheer in just the same way if it was Robb Stark that had made the announcement.

A/N: This is a short chapter I know. But I really wanted to get this one chapter out and I couldn't find any way to make the chapter longer without it been boring.