Frozen Flames: The Saga of the Ice Dragon (Completed)

A column of horsemen moved north, slithering forth across the landscape like a great serpent. The sun beat down upon the army from a cloudless sky and only the strong winds that call the Stormlands home kept them from sweating under their armor.

Five days of riding brought them to the edge of the Stormlands and within a day of the Grassy Vale.

Meleys nipped his ear in irritation. Jae laughed and fed her a piece of the ham he'd been munching on. She purred and rubbed her head against his ear. Spoilt brat. Some of his men had offered to make cages for the dragons so they might travel on horses, but Jae refused outright. His dragons would never know confinement; no manacle would ever hold them back. They rode on his shoulders instead, eyeing all those around him with great interest.

When a truly strong gust of wind swept through the army, they spread their wings and soared through the air like kites only to quickly return to the safety of his shoulder. Jae rewarded them with a piece of cooked meat every time. Though their intelligent eyes told him he'd never get them to do his bidding through incentives alone, he decided it couldn't hurt.

Vermithor showed promise; he kept his eyes on the sky more than on the ground and took personal offense to any bird that flew by as though enraged an animal would dare fly through his airspace.

He'll be dueling hawks before long. Poor hawks. The fight promised to be a one-sided affair if the puffs of smoke he belched out every once in a while were of any indication. Fire made flesh. They smelled like ash and smoke, sitting on his shoulder like the warm coals servants used to put in his bed to warm up the sheets. He'd read all the Valyrian books on dragons still available in the Red Keep. He knew they responded to High Valyrian, knew his blood earned him their cooperation, if not their obedience.

So it confused him that there seemed to be another element to the connection he shared with them, some bond at the back of his head he couldn't put his finger on. But he always felt it when he looked into Vermithor's eyes. As though the baby dragon would listen to his verbal commands, but essentially did not need them.

Go on, fly, he commanded, watching Vermithor and the dragon spread his wings, flapping them until he rose into the air. He'd have to grow some more, gain some muscle to achieve true flight because at present he looked like a drunkard stumbling home from the brothel. Come back, and the dragon crashed more than landed back on his shoulder.

Jaehaerys gently adjusted his place on his shoulder and looked forward, at the great expanse of land before him; the rolling hills of the Stormlands were slowly beginning to give way to Reach's meadows and forests. He pictured the enemy that waited beyond. Aegon Targaryen and Tywin Lannister.

"Has there been any word from Lady Olenna, Your Grace?" Lord Orys asked from his side.

Jaehaerys rode at the head of the column, his Kingsguard behind him, and Orys took the place of honor for the day. Jae had brought every one of his commanders to ride with him over the days, so as to better gauge their moods.

"There has. She's agreed to my proposal. Every Lord in Aegon's army will be offered a full pardon in exchange for submission, though I have little clue as to how she means to deliver the messages."

Orys chuckled. "If someone knows the way, I have no doubt it would be her, Your Grace."

Jae smiled at the young Lord, and nodded in agreement. The morale in his army had never been higher. Soldiers whispered Jae could not be defeated in battle, that he'd been sent by the Gods to right the Realm. His commanders walked around with grins on their faces at the prospect of putting an end to the war and enjoying the spoils of it.

It made it easy to spot the men who found themselves less than pleased with the latest developments. Oh, they'd all been awed and amazed when Jae first revealed the existence of dragons, but the excitement settled down in the days since and given them a chance to think.

Jae did not know how to deal with a problem when it originated deep in men's souls. How could he convince an ambitious man to renounce his ambition? Even if he tried, they would not trust him. They played the waiting game now, and they'd think he only wanted to stall them.

This is their last chance. If I win the war; hell, if I only survive another year or two, the dragons will grow so large they will put an end to the discussion. Jae could tell them they'd always have a voice at his Court and promise their leal service would never go unrewarded. It wouldn't solve anything – not when he could base his decisions on a whim rather than external pressure.

Treachery would come. He had no doubt about it. He could smell it in the air. Perhaps I should've waited. He did not even consider it before, the negative implications of hatching dragons. That's because I wasn't even sure it would work!

"Do you believe it will drive discord in their camp?" Orys spoke up again as he grabbed a cantine from his saddle and took a sip.

"Depends." Jae shrugged. "If they're stupid, they'll make their opinions known. If they're smart, they'll keep quiet and wait for a chance to strike."

Just like the men in my camp. Gods, how I wish for idiots. Most battles were decided through some form of treachery – Lords turned on their commanders, and retreated when it was crucial for them to advance. Jae's Lords undoubtedly knew it, more than aware they held him by the balls for the last time. After the coming battle, Jae would be free to disregard their opinions and compel cooperation through other means.

My defensive measures will be useless if an entire flank welcomes the Lannisters across the river. He could prepare for it. He could win in spite of it. But he had to know who would betray him first.

"Just the tense atmosphere should go a long way, I suppose," Lord Orys mused, and gave Jae a meaningful look. Yes, he sees it too.

He would have liked to think the footsoldiers would not go along with the commands of their commanders if they gave the order to betray Jae. Their awe-struck looks gave him hope, but little more. They had obedience beaten into them since infancy; they'd obey the order first and consider its implications later.

Hope remained his one great weapon. The war was not yet won, so every knight in his army still expected to achieve great deeds and reap still greater rewards. No, only his Lords truly worried him. 'You'd be surprised how many Lords prefer their Kings brave and stupid.'. Did the prospect of supporting Aegon suddenly seem enticing? A pretender on the Iron Throne, one fully reliant on their support. They could extract a great many concessions from Aegon and very few from Jae. Not when I have dragons at my side. Not when another Field of Fire can be one insult away.

Have I become too powerful, too quickly? He could guess away until he drove himself mad, or perhaps there existed a method to draw out any potential traitor. He had no other choice. He moved against Tywin Lannister now, a man who was fully aware of his shortcomings in the martial arena. If he can't beat me on the field of battle, he'll exploit another weakness.

He gave Lady Olenna his blessing to drive discord into the rebel camp, though it probably won't work. Tywin Lannister kept an iron grip on those around him, quashing rebellions before they began. I have to do the same. If Olenna could get messages into the rebel camp, then Tywin could get messages into his.

"Say, Lord Orys, what is the mood among your Lords?" he asked as he took another bite of his ham.

"What do you mean, Your Grace?" Orys eyed him warily.

"Would you say most are happy to support me or merely consider me the lesser evil?"

"If you're asking for any hints of plots, Your Grace, I can't say I detected any." Orys adjusted his neck brace nervously. He thinks I remember Robert Baratheon.

"Oh, no, nothing so nefarious, Lord Orys," Jae tried to calm him. "I'm merely asking what might be going through their minds, especially now that dragons have returned."

"I couldn't say for certain, Your Grace."

"Guess, then." Jae shot him a smile to lessen the severity of his pressure.

Orys took a sip from his cantine, to buy himself time to think, and said, "Lord Swann is here because he expects us to win, I'm sure. By the time I defeated him at Summerhall, word had come of your victory at Black Tree. He gave up on his dream of Storm's End and decided fighting on the winning side would be his consolation prize. I still expect to have to watch over him for the rest of my life, though."

"Hmm." Jaehaerys nodded. Perfect. "And who would you say is your greatest supporter among your bannermen?"

"Lord Buckler, Your Grace, though my little brother's betrothal to his only daughter might have something to do with it." Orys rolled his eyes, and Jae could picture a lone bootlicker in a sea of traitors.

He laughed, remembering how many times he felt the same annoyance about the primitive motivations of these noble men. "And who would you say is the willow of the bunch? Who might lean in either direction if the situation called for it?"

Orys frowned but did not balk at the question. He rubbed his chin and thought it through. "Lord Mertyns, I should say. A reserved man, no one quite knows what he's thinking. My father once said he only has to check if Lord Mertyns is nodding along to his words to know if his proposal earned the approval of his bannermen."

A political animal, then. They might be thrown off if he starts making avert moves. Then again, they might be emboldened by it.

"May I ask why you want to know, Your Grace?" Orys asked him. He held the reins of his horse so tight, Jae feared they might snap.

"I have a job for wise Lord Mertyns," Jae murmured. "Tell him to meet me this evening, but make sure no one else learns of it. Understood?"

"Aye, Your Grace." Orys gave him a nod. Now that he knew a plot was afoot, he seemed to require no further explanation. Good man. "I'll send one of my men, though the meeting might have to take place in the middle of the night."

"Very well," Jae said, and they rode on in silence. He had no need to charm Lord Orys, or entice him with promises. He had Storm's End, and Jae remained his only hope of keeping it. It made matters rather simple, and Jae appreciated an afternoon off.

But Lord Orys surprised him. "Your Grace," he said, biting his lip. "I'm told—I'm told you were there when—when my father died."

Jae looked at him in surprise. He hadn't talked to Orys about it, hadn't even thought about it. Fool. "I was."

"Did—Did he die well?" Orys mustered up the courage to look him in the eye.

"Aye." Jae gave Orys an encouraging nod. "Never saw anything quite like it, to be honest. Even the strongest men tend to break right before the end, but your father... he never wavered. Never doubted he was doing the right thing, never doubted you." Jae huffed in amusement. "Though I have to say you may have exceeded even his expectations."

Orys flushed and averted his eyes. "That was all him, Your Grace. I only gave the orders."

"What do you mean?"

"We rode all across the Stormlands when I was little." His eyes drifted off at the memory, a smile playing on his lips. "He'd often make us stop in the middle of nowhere, come up with a battle scenario and demand I tell him how I'd react. We must've gone over a thousand different battles just by talking; one for every field, every hill, and every forest in the Stormlands." He laughed to himself.

"When I heard my rebel bannermen gathered around Summerhall or the reports of the Dornish invasion, it seemed..."He shrugged, as though he was unsure how to explain it. "It seemed as if I'd done it before. The maneuvers, the orders... I just had to repeat his words."

Jae stared at him, at the fond look in his eyes. The safety, the assurance... to have had a Father who not only cared but took the time to prepare his son for any obstacles in his way. Who could ever harm Lord Orys within his own lands?

He swallowed the thoughts as something occurred to him. "This plan you've put forth. Another one of your father's?"

"Aye, Your Grace. We went over it many times. He wanted to have one in place in case Connington got any ideas. Said he'd defend his people but never move against the capital unless Your Grace rebelled."

"Did he expect me to?"

"He expected someone to push you into it." Orys smiled wryly. "Beg your pardon, Your Grace, but father thought Your Grace too idealistic to realize you have to bury some people to get a chance at peace."

Jae snorted. He wasn't wrong. He wished he'd gotten to know the man better, but then he'd been just another Lord to appease. You wish you'd get a taste of what he was to Orys, not what he'd be to you. "I get the feeling half my problems would disappear if he'd come and told me what he thought."

Orys laughed, shaking his head. Jae shot him a curious look. "He wanted to, you see," he explained. "But Mother told him to hold his tongue."

"Ahh—held him back, did she?"

"Father... Father wasn't the best when it came to politics," Orys admitted. "Mother handled that side, helped him keep the peace."

"Sounds like a formidable Lady."

"She is." Orys nodded in agreement in the way that all sons with formidable mothers do. "The bannermen might've feared my father's blade in battle, but it was my mother who made sure they didn't even consider it."

"You must bri—" He fell silent when a lone rider emerged from a forest in the distance. "Swords!" he commanded, Blackfyre sailing out of its sheath.

Orys and his Kingsguard followed, the tension spreading down the column. Jae watched the lone rider, watched the banner he carried. Mayhaps he came with news from Grassy Vale, mayhaps he's got a thousand swords chasing him.

The rider gave a single wave and they all relaxed. A message, then. He galloped all the way to Jae before he came to a stop, the hoofs of his horse sliding on the grass. "Your Grace, a message from Lady Meadows," he said, bowing in his saddle.

"Tell me."

"Lord Tarly has reached the main force a day into their march to the Blackwater. He begs to report he guarantees they'll reach it before the Lannisters."

"Excellent," Jae said and the man rode down the line.

"We should reach them in about four days, Your Grace. Three, if we pick up the tempo," Ser Barristan spoke up from behind him.

"And so we shall. There are some things I have to do." He couldn't well execute his scheme on the eve of the battle. "Speed up to a trot. We ride until nightfall." He gave his horse a light kick as the order sped down the column.

"Your Grace, may I ask you one question?" Orys asked as he matched his rhythm.

"Of course."

"What do you mean to do with Tyrion Lannister?"

"That's not the right question, Lord Orys."

"What is, then?"

"What do you mean to do with Tyrion Lannister?"

Dusk had fallen by the time he came upon a surprising sight as he rode into the Grassfield Keep, the home of House Meadows. He was exhausted, and on edge, and the gaggle of Lords that greeted him filled him with nothing but foreboding and annoyance.

The townspeople of the Grassy Vale had all come out to see the King, lining the streets as they cheered his victorious army. Maidens threw flowers in their path, old men bowed as they passed and mothers wept in the knowledge that their fears could be laid to rest. Glimpses of the dragons upon his shoulders elicited stunned silence, praises to the Gods, and a few screams of fright.

Jae saw little of it, too busy scanning rooftops and windows for any sign of crossbowmen hoping to kill him. His Kingsguard pressed tightly all around him, Ser Arthur whispering as they rode, "Remember Fireball, remember to fear the unknown hero."

And now, the majority of the Reacher Lords knelt before him on the ground of the courtyard, the entire household of the Castle behind them, or on the ramparts that ran above it. People peeked through every window and around every corner for a chance to see him.

Jaehaerys dismounted his horse and approached the Lady Meadows, eyeing Lord Tyrell that knelt beside her. His eyes trailed down the line of Lords; Caswell, Merryweather, Redwyne, Norridge, Beesbury, Chester, and on it went. At least a dozen of them had come to Grassfield Keep to greet him, and they all peered up from their place on their knees to catch a glimpse of the dragons. Now I know what they're doing here. Margaery was the lone figure on her feet, standing next to Lady Meadows. One look from Jae and her smile turned brittle.

"Rise," he commanded. Lady Meadows faced him; a tall, dark woman with dark hair and darker eyes, she wore all black in mourning of her husband who'd died at the Battle of Black Tree.

"My lady," Jae murmured and took her outstretched hand. He placed a gentle kiss on knuckles and said, "I would like to express my condolences for the death of your Lord Husband. He was a brave man, who fought until the very end. Know that your family shall always find help at my Court, for his service to House Targaryen will never be forgotten."

"I thank you, Your Grace," she said and curtsied, though her demeanor lacked the sadness and fragility one expects to find in a widow. She did not blink when Meleys hissed at her.

He moved on to Margaery next. "My Queen," he said, but could not even muster a smile. "I trust you are well?"

"I am, Your Grace," she said with a beaming smile, more for the crowd than Jae. Her eyes jumped between Vermithor and his face the entire time. "And pleased to see you so hale and healthy after your battles."

Jae nodded and gave a perfunctory kiss to her hand. He turned to the rest of the Lords then and they all froze under his gaze. I think it just occurred to them that they made a mistake, though they do not know how big one yet.

"My Lords," he said. "My commanders are tired and in need of rest. I trust we can reconvene for a council in an hour or two?"

They bowed their heads and murmured their assent, as though they had a bloody choice. Away from their men and at my mercy, could it get any better?

He turned around and called, "Kingsguard, Lord Baratheon, with me!" He walked on without a backward glance, the people parting for him with bowed heads. He spied Lady Olenna by the entrance to the Keep, eyeing him with a peculiar expression.

"My Lady, would you mind joining me?"

"And the Queen?" she bit out, hobbling toward him with her cane.

"Of course." Jae smiled to diffuse the tension. He felt a hundred eyes on his skin. "I'm afraid campaigning has made me forgetful." He turned around and said, "My love. Care to join us?"

"Of course, Your Grace." Margaery smiled, full of relief as the discreet glances aimed in her direction withered away.

"Your Grace," Lady Meadows spoke up as she also approached. "Chambers have been prepared for you. I can lead you to them if you like?"

How many protocols have I disregarded exactly? "Of course, my Lady, forgive my lack of manners. I'm afraid after weeks and weeks of being surrounded by only soldiers, seeing my beautiful Queen so unexpectedly has turned me into a fool."

The men around him laughed, as men did when a King made a joke, but Margaery did not miss the hidden message, nor did Lady Olenna.

Lady Meadows led them through the Keep, past the Great Hall, and up the stairs to the family wing of the Castle. They passed half-a-dozen doors before Lady Meadows came to a stop and said, "This chamber has been prepared for you, Your Grace." She gestured to the first door. "And this is the one where you may conduct your council meetings." She pointed out the next.

"I thank you, my Lady, you are too kind." Jae looked to the people who'd followed. "After me," Jae said and led them into the study. Most of the decorations seemed to have been removed; all that remained was one large table with the map of the South. Fire crackled in the hearth, and a portrait of Lord Meadows hung off the wall. Apparently, they had carried off his table, along with all the chairs. Even the bookshelves laid empty.

As Ser Arthur closed the door behind him, Jae turned to the little group he gathered. Margaery looked anxious, Olenna pissed, while Orys and his knights wore looks of dire anticipation.

"Lord Orys, you are to approach Lord Mertyns immediately. He's to come to me before the council."

"Aye, Your Grace." Lord Orys made to leave, but Jae stopped him in his tracks.

"Just because we are in a hurry doesn't mean we're allowed to be sloppy. Send Lord Buckler's squire to approach Lord Mertyns – that should keep the suspicion off. Meanwhile, you go to the Maester of the Castle to enquire about any messages. If anyone asks, that's why I demanded you join me. Understood?"

Orys nodded, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and left the room. When the door closed behind him, he turned to Olenna and Margaery. "Care to explain what so many commanders of my army are doing here, welcoming me?"

"Trying to catch a glimpse of the dragons," Margaery spoke the words Jae expected to come from Lady Olenna. One glance at the Queen of Thorns and he knew their latest approach – if the fluttering eyelashes didn't elicit love, and if the fucking didn't elicit enough lust, then they had to hope usefulness would earn Jae's affection. "Lord Fossoway was most supportive of the idea."

That made him pause. Fossoway supported the idea? A lopsided grin spread across his face. Oh, he could just picture Fossoway, tired after weeks of herding the sheep, jumping at the chance to get rid of fools and keep only the useful commanders with his army. "How much trouble did your father give him about being in overall command of the army?"

"Loads," Margaery admitted. "But he calmed eventually after it was suggested one of your dragons might sneeze his way if he didn't back down."

Jae laughed and nodded. He turned to his unofficial Spymaster. "What's the situation with the North and the Vale?" he asked Lady Olenna.

"Stark broke the wildling army. They scattered back into the frozen wasteland they call home, but he'll never get south in time for the battle," Olenna said, sounding bored. "Royce on the other hand is trapped in the Vale."

"Trapped in the Vale?" Ser Barristan asked. "How can that be?"

"It seems the Pretender got the bright idea that choke-points work both ways. He left five thousand men behind and armed the clans from the Mountains of the Moon to the teeth. The Knights of the Vale shan't sally forth to glory any time soon."

"Then we fight we the army we have," Ser Arthur spoke up. "With the men under Lord Fossoway's command, our army numbers nearly ninety thousand, whereas the Pretender should have around—"

"—Ninety thousand men," Olenna said, her eyes on Jae the entire time. "This battle-plan of yours that everyone's talking about better work wonders. Or should we expect one of these lizards to turn into the Black Dread by tomorrow?"

Meleys and Vermithor did not appreciate the comparison. They hissed and snapped in her direction and for the first time both belched out a puff of smoke. The Queen of Thorns flinched only to then try and hide her reaction by smoothing out her skirt.

Jae smiled dangerously, the fire in his chest burning away any hesitation. I am a dragon! His expression seemed to unsettle Olenna more than his dragons. "You doubt me still, my Lady?" he murmured quietly.

"No—no, of course not," she said. I've never seen her like this before. Good. "But you must see the cause of my concern."

"I do not, as it happens," Jae replied as he reached up to his shoulders. Meleys and Vermithor crawled into his hands and he gently placed them onto the table. "Tywin and Aegon will both be dead this time next week, if only you do your job."

"And what's that?" Margaery perked up.

"Tell me, who looked less than pleased after word came of the return of dragons?" he asked, eyeing them both, wondering if he could even trust these Ladies who called themselves his family. The last time a Lady of the Reach married into House Targaryen, we got the Dance.

"No one, Your Grace," Margaery tried to assure him. "The news was accepted with great celebration!"

"Uh-huh." Jae turned his expectant eyes to Olenna who looked less than pleased by Margaery's blunder.

"Redwyne. Redwyne most of all. I can't be sure who agrees with him," Olenna said with some hesitation, knowing perfectly well what conclusion Jae would reach.

Because he's in Tywin Lannister's pocket. Because he means to betray me. Jae had threatened to murder his son, so it did not surprise him too much. Redwyne couldn't hope to find any favor in Jae's Court after the war.

A good thing the battle plan did not have to remain secret. In fact, it's even better this way. If Tywin thought one of his traitors went unnoticed, he'd fight them at Death's Doorstep, counting on treachery to carry the day. And therein lies my opportunity.

"And with that in mind," Lady Olenna continued, "a message came for you, though I do not from whom it came, or what it means."

Jae cocked his head, then smiled. It could only be one person. He held out his hand and Lady Olenna placed a small scroll in it with one hand, producing a Myrish lens with the other. Jae opened the scroll and examined the writing. He'd taught Daenerys a rudimentary bit of code Valyrians used to encrypt their messages and told her to compose the message in Valyrian, to add an extra level of security.

Flipping the letters in his head, Jae arrived at a simple sentence: Lord Tywin sits under a golden tree, sipping red wine with a centaur to keep him company. Oh, Seven Hells, Jae would make Dany his Queen if she were present.

He ripped the message into pieces. "Thank you. Dismissed," he said and turned to his Kingsguard.

Margaery went to leave, but Olenna stayed in place. "What's this about Mertyns?"

"Nothing that needs concern you, my Lady," he said, and added, "Though if I should hear even a whisper about him outside this chamber, know that I will be most... displeased."

Olenna stared at him for many moments. "Seems blood and battle have made you into a proper King." She looked him up and down. "Good. We may survive this yet."

The two of them walked out of the chambers together. Margaery shot him a small smile over her shoulder, and he found himself returning it. He didn't have a chance to think about it earlier, but her presence meant he'd have someone to keep him company through the night.

"Find me two dozen of your most capable, most loyal men," he told the Kingsguard when they were left alone. "They will guard the dragons every moment I'm not with them, and one of you shall be there to command them."

"Aye, Your Grace." Ser Barristan bowed. "It shall be done."

"Good." He leaned over the table with a huff and watched Meleys crawl over the map. Is she pretending to fly over Westeros? "Now if you don't mind, can someone bring me a chair and find the Steward so we may eat a hot meal?"

"I'll do both, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said and left. Jae nodded and stepped from the table; his legs were stiff from the riding and his back cracked when he pushed his hips forward. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "All this conquering business is quite tiring, wouldn't you agree?"

"Aye, Your Grace," Ser Arthur said with a smile. Ser Loras regarded him with a blank look on his face.

"Something the matter Ser Loras?"

Loras stared at him in silence, and only glanced once at Ser Arthur. Ah, so he wants to say something that might earn him a thrashing in the practice ring. "Go on."

"Did Your Grace have to spurn my sister like that in the courtyard?" he erupted in spite of himself.

"Ser Loras!" Arthur hissed. "You've no right to question the King!"

"How about my brother-in-law?"

Impudent little shit. "Your Grace," Ser Arthur said, "Ser Loras is tired. I beg permission to dismiss him for the day."

"In a minute." Jae held up his hand. He had no intention of revealing his true thoughts, but he couldn't let this fester. "I was displeased because Margaery disobeyed my direct orders. I was displeased because she's walked into a dangerous situation. I was displeased because my wife has chosen to put herself at risk and I worry for her. Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Jae growled the last question and Loras nearly took a step back.

"But—But Tywin Lannister can't get to her here," he said, suddenly uncertain, looking to Arthur for support. "Why would she be in danger?"

"It's not Tywin Lannister I'm worried about."

"Lord Mertyns," Ser Loras breathed in dawning realization. "You fear she might end caught up in the scheme you mean to execute with him?"

Jae nodded, eyeing Ser Loras in interest. He knew he had the boy's absolute loyalty as long as he did right by the Tyrells. As long as he thinks me in love with his sister.

"If I may ask, Your Grace, what are you planning to do?" Ser Loras asked, trying not to wring his hands as he did his best to retain his posture under the combined glares of Jae and Ser Arthur.

"Why, I mean to murder a couple of Lords. You don't mind, do you?"