Fandom Dragons 🐉 and Direwolves 🐺 (Closed w/ Lucyfer)

[NovaxLeighxKnockoff]

If I look back I am lost.

The words repeated in her head for what had to be the hundred'th time and it surely wouldn't be the last time either. Those moments when doubt and insecurity crept in. Like now with trying to navigate customs of a new city while simultaneously still getting a grip on leading her khalasar; on top of all the losses she experienced recently. Even with all of that though there were still signs that gave her confidence to push forward. Like the fact that her dragon eggs had hatched, or the red comet that helped with guiding them to Qarth.

Xaro Xhoan Daxos 'graciously' allowed them all to stay at his palace while also proposing a marriage; which Ser Jorah pointed out the customs of marriage here would allow him to ask for a dragon. That was another thing Dany had to be mindful of was the manipulation of others to steal her children. Espeically considering the trickery that caused her to lose Drogo. And there really was no time to rest either because once she heard about the death of the usurper king along with the unrest this would be the perfect time to take advantage if only she had a way to get to Westeros as well as more of an army.

Despite the fact her loyal knight was not saying so, Daenerys sensed he didn't see her idea of going to the Pureborn's as a fruitful one. Still she had to try and seek help with obtaining soldiers and ships to head to Westeros. Readying herself, she was just waiting to receive word that they were available to see her.

"Khaleesi." Daenyerys turned, assuming it had to do with her speaking to the Pureborn.


~~~~

The world had a funny twisted humor sometimes. There had been times in the past when the wonder had flickered through her mind if life somewhere away from Casterly Rock would be better. Maybe sort of a 'fresh start'. Well... Lynessa Lannister found herself in the midst of trying to figure that out during a time that was not turning out to be ideal. Nor was it in a place she felt very safe in considering how close it was to the Riverlands.

War was ramping up, whispers of the battles that the north was winning and Golden Tooth was basically the first stop inside the Westerlands.. With just a couple of maids and a guard that came with her it was hard not to feel isolated, though she'd be more worried if her mother had been there with her. Quentyn Lefford, her betrothed, currently wasn't there either; he was with the half of the army dealing with the most recent attack. Which, she had to admit maybe thats part of why she was nervous. They had no idea if it was some sort of distraction to split their numbers.. and with the current loosing streak on their side, Lynessa wasn't feeling overly positive.

Despite it growing late the young blonde found herself unable to sleep but didn't have the luxuries of home to help clear her thoughts. Her worries, unfortunately, weren't for nothing. The first signs of trouble came from her guard barging in, having her put on a hooded cloak to cover her hair. Commotion outside started filling the air as he rushed her, attempting to sneak her out the back before it was too late.​

 

[Lucyfer]

Qarth was hot.

Hotter than Cassia Bolton anticipated. She had not traveled far South, and certainly not across the Narrow Sea, so she had not quite known how to dress. It turned out, she had nothing in her wardrobe at all that would have prepared her for the humidity and the heat, which meant the first priority – after leaving behind the Manderly boat – was acquiring room and then clothes, before she had a letter sent ahead to the home of Xaro Xhoan Draxos.

It was obvious that was where Daenerys was staying.

Everyone was talking about it.

“Mormont.”

It was Jorah who found her after the letter arrived, and she greeted him calmly, hues pink draping her, the light fabric translucent over her arms – barely masking how burnt she was underneath them. That was another struggle with clothes; she needed to be covered, because otherwise, she fried. At least her face had remained relatively unharmed, lightly pinkened. “I heard tale you were with Daenerys.”

“Khaleesi to you,” he indicated.

There was a beat. They were not here to squabble over titles, but there was hostility between them, though they’d never met. Cassia knew his history and he knew she knew his history. That was potentially damning to him. “You are here on Lord Stark’s behalf?”

“King Stark,” still a quibble, of course, “and yes. It is not Eddard any longer, but Robb, his eldest,” Cassia answered, “he seeks an alliance, to put her back on her rightful throne.”

“But exclude him.”

A simple nod.

“She will not want to hear this,” he decided.

“Perhaps not, but she should,” Cassia stated, as calm and collected as many expected of those holding the ‘Bolton’ name. She could see it chilling Jorah already. “If you think I will turn back because you have denied me, you underestimate me. Sending a letter is only one courtesy I can employ to let the Khaleesi know that Westeros is looking for her guidance.”

It did not take long for the exiled Northern to consent after that, and soon enough, she was being guided to the mansion, with Steelshanks following, and brought into the lavish home of Xaro Xhoan Draxos – and, to Daenerys.

Without warning to the poor Queen.

Or, Khaleesi, as Jorah spoke to her, voice gentle, touched with a bit of fear of what he’d done as the silver-haired queen turned.

Cassia took in the moment of her. The woman was not imposing by any means. She was no Lady Mormont. She was delicate, and caught, in that moment, as Jorah Mormont approached. “An arrival from Westeros,” he introduced, before turning half, and introducing, “Lady Cassia Bolton, of the North.”

Just as he was.

“She comes as Lord Stark’s emissary to…seek your return to Westeros.”

Lady Cassia Bolton bowed, black hair spilling over her shoulders. She had not put it up; down, it protected her neck from the damnable sun, as well as her cheeks if she pulled her hair forward, “Your Grace.”

Khaleesi was a foreign name, not fit for Westeros, so Cassia would not use it. Behind her, Steelshanks also bowed, but remained quiet. It was not his place to speak, he was only there to keep harm from befalling Cassia.

~***~

The Golden Tooth was necessary to capture, for so many reasons. Mostly, to give Robb Stark better inroads into attacking the Westerlands directly, and moving troops and supplies through so his attacks would be on the larger scale. True battles, instead of the guerrilla tactics he was becoming quite well known for now.

Not well known enough for the Golden Tooth to be prepared when Robb and his men snuck into their fortress, and began their attack. Getting in had not been too difficult, Robb had managed to scout the area out. Some, he couldn’t quite explain, he’d seen it in dreams, but it made little sense. The rest came from his men who took it in. Then, it was simply a matter of heading in through the weak points, and waiting until the opportune time, when the denizens of the fortress were turning in for the night.

The Northerners moved quickly, securing rooms, and taking down any guards that stood in their way, prepared to take the Leffords as hostages to barter with.

Grey Wind ran ahead of Robb as he made his way into one of the wings of the fortress that had not yet been cleared, the size of the direwolf frightening most of the servants into quickly backing off, providing no threat to the Young Wolf, which was good. Robb saw no reason to kill indiscriminately. The Leffords were an important house to the Lannisters, Robb heard of a pending marriage into the family, due to their location.

Robb would make sure that never came to pass, and the Leffords reconsidered their allegiances in the future to false rulers like Joffrey Baratheon – truly, Joffrey Lannister.

A bastard who shouldn’t be anywhere near his sister Sansa.

What Robb did not anticipate coming upon a hallway, where a guard was escorting a hooded woman out of a room. Robb could not make her out, but he didn’t need to – the presence of a guard spoke enough.

Grey Wind rushed ahead of them to cut their path off, snarling openly at the guard and woman as he braced himself low to the ground, prepared to move on Robb’s command.

Robb was alone in the hallway, but he knew he would not be for long as he faced down the guard. Dacey Mormont was hot on his heels, he could still hear her opening doors behind to make sure nothing was left unturned, and Robin Flint not far behind.

“Surrender,” he ordered the guard, stepping plainly into the light so the sigil of House Stark could be seen upon his cloak – as if the direwolf hadn’t given his identity away, “no one needs to be hurt here,” certainly not the woman who would not be partaking in the fight, “come peacefully and you will be prisoners of the North,” Robb offered to them both, hand on his blade.

He was prepared if the guard decided to fight, to try and protect the woman he had taken from her quarters. He may not have Ice, but his own steel was sharp enough to deal with the likes of most.