The Lion and the Rose: The North

[DKrol]

A Raven to all  the Lords of the Sevens Kingdoms, Great Houses and Landed Knights Alike

"Most Noble Lords and Ladies,

For 283 years my ancestors ruled the Seven Kingdoms. Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys the Wise, Baelor the Blessed, Daeron the Good. My father, Prince Rhaegar, was beloved by the Seven Kingdoms - small folk and high born alike. The Targaryens ruled justly and with honor and the Seven Kingdoms flourished under their rule. The Seven Kingdoms were united and the King’s Peace stretched from the Wall, to Winterfell, to the Twins, to King’s Landing, to Horn Hill, to Sunspear. In the absence of the Targaryens the Seven Kingdoms are at war - crops are being trampled, fields salted, woman raped and murder. The Targaryens kept the Ironborn in Pyke and forced the Kingswood Brotherhood into submission. It is time for the Dragons to return home.

Some seven-and-ten years ago, an upstart Lord grew jealous of the people’s love for my father. Robert Baratheon - the Usurper, the Whoremonger - was a violent glutton. He slew my father, killed the hope and love of the Seven Kingdoms, and took the Iron Throne to fulfill his own desires. His swords stormed the Red Keep and brutally murdered my mother and my sister in cold blood. A mother and a babe of three years were raped and slaughtered at the hand of the Stag. I was secreted away by those who remained loyal to House Targaryen and raised by Lord Jon Connington in the Free Cities.

Now, a boy sits on the Iron Throne. A boy so violent and terrible his own Kingsguard fears him. A boy so terrible he has his own brother beaten by once honorable knights. A boy so arrogant he presumes the small folk should worship himself rather than the Seven. This boy should be in the yard of a castle, squiring for a knight and learning to use a sword. The Iron Throne is made for a man grown.

The King in the Iron Throne must be powerful, yet kind. He must be firm, yet caring. He must be a man grown and blooded, yet young at heart and slow to anger. He must be of high birth, yet knowledgeable to the struggles of the small folk. He must be a Targaryen, yet a friend to all Houses. For those who doubt my blood, I say only look at mine face. I am Targaryen through and through. Lord Connington tells me I am the image of Prince Rhaegar.

I urge you to follow the path of Lord Selwyn Tarth, Lord Elwood Meadows, and the noble knights and Lords of the Golden Company of Volantis and bend the knee. I swear before the Seven that any Lord or knight who kneels before me shall be received into the King’s Peace. Those who bend the knee will be allowed to keep their lands and titles, while those who opposed me shall fall under the might of the dragon. Bend the knee for the good of the Seven Kingdoms. Bend the knee for the honor of the Iron Throne. Bend the knee for Rhaegar, Elia, and Rhaenys.

With hope,
Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

[DKrol]

A Raven to all  the Lords of the Sevens Kingdoms, Great Houses and Landed Knights Alike
Two Ravens to the following Lords: Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, Edwyn Frey of the Twins, Mariya Darry of Darry, Tytos Blackwood of Raventree Hall, Jason Mallister of Seagard, Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, and Yohn Royce of Runestone

"Most Noble Lords and Ladies,

Stannis Baratheon wishes to claim to be the true Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I ask him, where is his army? Where are his holdings? Where are his leal lords? Why is he freezing on the Wall - a place for criminals and outlaws?

I have an army, growing by the day, of trained soldiers, knights, and Lords. Stannis Baratheon has a ragtag band of tribal savages.

I have a strong castle at my command. Stannis Baratheon must encroach upon the hospitality of the Night's Watch for a place to sit, sleep, and eat.

I have several Lords who have taken the knee - great men like Selwyn Tarth, Elwood Meadows, Jon Connington, and Doran Martell. Stannis Baratheon has a bastard son of Eddard Stark in Winterfell.

I am in Storm's End, only a day's march from the ruins of King's Landing, and the center of Westeros. Stannis Baratheon is many weeks from the Twins, and a moon's turn from King's Landing.

I am building a new capital for the small folk near Storm's End. Stannis Baratheon wishes to spirit the small folk away to Dragonstone - a dreary little island that was once the seat of my House.

I hold the Seven dear to me and pray as hard as Baelor the Blessed, my ancestor. Stannis Baratheon is a heretic, sending his praise to a fire demon from Asshai.

Stannis Baratheon claims that King's Landing burned under my father. My father, the beloved Prince Rhaegar, was robbed of the right to sit the Iron Throne because of the Usurper. My grandfather, King Aerys II, was murdered by his Kingsguard after years of betrayal and deceit. The only time that King's Landing burned was under the Baratheon Usurpers.

Stannis Baratheon is another Baratheon Usurper.

With hope,
Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

[DKrol]

Jon Connington

"Lord Commander, sir. There's been a raven from Storm's End." Eddison Tollett entered the Lord Commander's solar, bearing a heavily damaged parchment. Connington had his back to the door, standing by his fire place. He didn't move when Tollett came in, nor did he speak. The steward shuffled by the door, unsure of how to respond to the new Lord Commander. "I can read it, if you'd like." Tollett waited, although still Connington said nothing nor moved. "To Jon Connington, I am writing to you today on the most depressing of matters. Our king, the beloved Aegon Targaryen Sixth of His Name, has..." Tollett stopped reading, his eyes scanning rapidly. "Sir, the boy has died. Killed by...himself."

I've let two Kings die at my hand. Connington raised a hand to dismiss the steward. Tollett left the parchment on the desk and turned to leave, closing the door behind him. Connington snatched up the parchment and collapsed on the small chaise longue, pulling the fur duvet over him and staring at the letter. He read it once, twice, thrice. The words blurred more and more on the other side of his tears. He crumbled the parchment in his fist and tossed it onto the fire. The flames licked it up quickly, the edges curling and blackening, the ink boiling up and spattering. I've failed my king once more.

No. Connington threw off the blanket and stood up. He wiped the tears away with his wrist and took a deep breath. "The Watch plays no part in the issues of the realm." Connington said out loud. "A man forswears his past when he takes the black." The Lord Commander sat down at his desk and dipped his quill into his ink well and set out to write a letter.

....

They hate me. Connington entered the food hall, which was now filled with a painful silence. In one corner, Alliser Thorne sat with a group of older Brother huddled around him. The other saw Cotter Pyke, on leave from Eastwatch, and his group of non-Westerosi Brothers. The middle was scattered with those Brothers who didn't fit into either group. Connington strode to the meal window and grabbed a plate of smoked bacon and gravy on a potato, as well as a large pitcher of ale. He sat down at a table next to the fire and began to eat, the clinking of his fork and knife the only sounds in the hall save for the crackle of the fire.

After a few minutes of the tense silence, Connington said, rather nonchalantly, "Cotter Pyke, you're hereby relieved of your duties at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea."

"What is wrong with you! You're mad! We should have -" Pyke started to protested before Connington spoke up again.

"You are being reassigned to a more important role. I have named you the Lord of the Gift, charged with leading a select group of our Sworn Brothers South, into the Gift and New Gift, to ensure that the Wildings the Bastard let in are keeping their part of the bargain, as well as finding the Watch a new batch of recruits." Pyke got red in the face in embarrassment. "You leave at first light, I'd eat up if I were you."

"Thorne, you're off as well. Blane and Halder have served the Shadow Tower well, but it is time a true knight takes over. You'll be taking over as Commander there. You and a group of Sworn Brothers are moving into the Shadow Tower tomorrow at first light as well." Connington returned to eating, while a slow murmur broke out among the brothers. "I suggest you all stop talking and get eating - every man in the Watch is going to have an arms lesson once I'm finished."

"But sir," the boy called Pyp said "Who will be Master-at-Arms with Thorne being offed to Shadow Tower?"

Connington only smiled. Someone who's actually done battle with something besides a straw doll in the last moon's turn.

[DKrol]

A Proclamation from the Iron King



Be It Proclaimed:

A great scourge has come down on Westeros. An enemy unseen since the age of heroes has razed the Wall, the only true protection the people of Westeros have ever known.

The Ironborn know another, far more potent protection - the Drowned God and his great sea. There is not route for these demons to follow and they know not the skills of boating to reach my islands.

As a strong man, who has a sense of humanity, I have thought on ordering four ships from my great Pyke Fleet to sail for the coast near Deepwood Motte to retrieve and save as many Westerosi as possible. Their safety would be assured by my seal and their prosperity would be promised. As many refugees as possible, both from the terrible wars of Westeros and the demon army, would be welcomed to the Iron Islands.

However, as a strong king who has a sense of duty, I have decided to keep my ships at home. Let Westeros fall - the Iron Islands will live in perpetuity.

x
Victarion of House Greyjoy, King of the Isles, King of Salt and Rock, Son of the Sea Wind, Lord Reaper of Pyke, Iron King, Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet

[DKrol]

I've edited it to reflect what my further research about Victarion has lead me to feel would be proper.