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

"Jaehaerys, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Margaery assaulted him the second he entered their bed-chamber. She tried to throw herself in his arms but stopped short when she found Meleys and Vermithor on his shoulders and in her way.

"It's alright." Jae held up his hand to halt her as he walked inside. Their chamber was small enough, only a four-poster bed inside, a table sitting at the opposite wall, and a small settee at the foot of the bed. They had a balcony that overlooked the keep, and a glazed door that led to it.

He walked to the table and laid his dragons upon it. Rest, and don't murder Margaery while she sleeps. The two dragons gave him a look Jae had come to regard as understanding and buried their heads beneath their wings. They're as tired as I am.

He turned around to face his wife and she wasted no time in throwing herself in his arms. "I didn't know, Jaehaerys," she moaned into his shoulder. "Loras told me you're up to something and I didn't want to come, but Grandmother demanded it."

You're a Queen, Jaehaerys wanted to say, I'm the only one who can make demands of you.  He held his tongue. Lady Olenna must've seen the folly of their arrival and told Margaery to put all the blame on her, so Margaery might stay in Jae's good graces. He had no doubt his wife wanted to come as much as the rest of the foolish Reacher Lords, eager to bask in the glow of being married to a future dragonrider.

Is this what a political marriage was supposed to look like? Where's my Alyssane to tell me to shut up? He saw a flash of silver hair and violet eyes and blinked to dispel the vision.

"It's alright," he repeated, favoring Margaery with a tired smile.

"We'll leave tomorrow," she said, voice verging on frantic. "Me and Grandmother, we'll leave and you'll have nothing to worry about."

Good to know Loras told them everything. "No." Jae shook his head as he approached the bed and took off his doublet. "You're far more vulnerable on the road. You'll stay here and I'll do what I can to protect you."

She nodded. "Here, let me help you with that," she murmured as she appeared at his back. She helped him take off his doublet, even unlaced his breeches, and slid them down his legs with a mischievous look on her face.

"You are incorrigible, darling," he huffed.

"Well," she purred as she stood up. "I have missed my husband."

"Your husband's been riding for days. I do hope the reunion can be postponed until the morning," he said, even as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air. He carried her to the bed and landed on top of her. Both of them laughed and he couldn't help but pepper her cheeks and neck with kisses.

Just the chance to hug someone, to let loose and drop his mask worked like a balm to his soul. "Are you sure?" Margaery giggled.

"Not entirely," he murmured but rolled off of her all the same. She rolled onto her side and he helped her get rid of her corset and her dress. They ended up lying in their bed, both wearing nothing but small clothes. Jae held her close and fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of her neck.

Jaehaerys, he heard a moan and shot up in bed. "What?" he demanded. "What's happened?"

His bleary eyes cleared to find only Margaery in bed next to him, naked. She looked startled by his reaction, but a look of understanding appeared on her face in the end. "It's all right," she said. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back down into the bed. "No enemies to fight here."

Afterward, Margaery crawled into his arms and he kissed her forehead lovingly, seeing her in an entirely different light. Must be the orgasm talking. But she did prove herself devoted to him, regardless of her pride and political aspirations. Is there a maiden in the Realm that doesn't have them?

It was her expression that surprised him, though. She did not look satisfied, did not wear a look of pure bliss as he expected her to. She looked worried instead. Mayhaps this was more of a one-sided affair than I thought.

"Jaehaerys, I need to tell you something," she said, her face buried in his chest.

"What?" he asked, and a cold fear gripped him. What has she done? He rose up to lean into the pillows, but Margaery only hid her face further. "What is it?"

"I—I am with child," she said, her eyes still hidden. Jae froze, his entire body went stiff. She finally looked up at him with a shy look. "Grandmother didn't want me to tell you but... after you left, I felt sick for a couple of weeks. We went to the Maester and…" She trailed off, searching his face, seemingly waiting for a reaction.

"But that's wonderful, darling!" Jae felt a bright smile come onto his face.

Margaery smiled in relief. "We weren't sure if we should tell you, what with everything's that's—"

"It's fine, Margaery, I understand." He pulled her closer to him, the sheets rustling. "We're going to have a child!" he said out loud, as though he didn't dare believe it.

But then he remembered Daenerys and suddenly he knew that she'd never planned to only spend a night with him, that she'd been trying to make Jae hers even though political realities did not allow her to stake her claim publicly. What will she say to this? Jae didn't know. But Margaery was carrying his child, and at that moment, he felt the weight of it, and he knew he'd stand by this woman who'd be the mother of his children even if it meant Daenerys would hate him for it.

His eyes found Margaery's face. "Now, then, as much as I'd like to have another go at it, I think you have something to tell your Grandmother, don't you?"

"It might help calm her down a little, with everything that's going on." Margaery slipped off the bed and grabbed a bell to summon her helpers. In a minute, her handmaiden appears and whisked her off to ready her for the day.

So they wanted to keep it from me, he thought as the door closed behind her, though it mattered little. Could it be that Olenna opposed the return of dragons as well? Now that Margaery carried his babe, Jae didn't have to live much longer in their eyes. Only until I defeat Tywin and Aegon. Then they can get rid of me.

But Daenerys' raven spoke only of Tywin and the Reacher Lords who'd taken his side. It didn't make any mention of Roses. No, Jae decided, if Olenna had decided to keep it from him, it had been because she wanted him to keep his mind on the war. And Margaery had gone against her Grandmother's orders because she'd wanted to return into Jae's good graces.

A knock came on the door. "Come in," he called, putting a night robe around his shoulders.

A maid peeked through the crack. "Your squire is here, Your Grace. He asks if you're ready for the day."

"Send him in," Jae nodded as he walked to the settee where his breeches laid. "And have someone bring me some breakfast. Some ham and bread will do."

"Aye, Your Grace." She left, leaving the door open for Lucas.

The boy came in, two men trailing behind him with Jae's armor and clothes. The boy carried Blackfyre himself. "Put it right there." He pointed to the place by the desk. "Very good. Dismissed."

The two men, confused about being ordered about by a boy twenty years their junior, looked to Jae for confirmation. Jae gave it readily.

"I see command suits you, Lucas," he said after the men left.

The boy had the sense to look sheepish, shuffling his feet. "I needed some help. I hope I didn't over-step, Your Grace."

"Not at all," Jae said as he put on his tunic. "They obeyed first and wondered about it afterward. You'll make a fine Lord someday."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Lucas kept his eyes on the ground as he began to disassemble the armor. "I polished and scoured your plate and mail yesterday, Your Grace, so it should be in fine condition."

"I leave it in your capable hands." They went through the process of putting on armor once more. Their many repetitions meant Lucas had him ready to face a horde of Dothraki in ten minutes flat.

Jae ate his little sandwich as he walked down to the courtyard, his Kingsguard and Lord Orys flanking him, Meleys and Vermithor flanking his head. Lady Olenna intercepted him on the way. "I do not like to be kept in the dark," he told her as she struggled to keep up with his pace.

"I understand that, Your Grace," she said, though he could find little remorse in her voice. "We only meant to wait until the end of the war."

"I'm sure," Jae said as they came into the courtyard. His commanders had already mounted their horses, ready to go, their attendants and squires waiting anxiously for the march to begin anew. Jae stopped and faced Olenna. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

She tapped her cane on the ground and looked around for any sign of prying ears. There were many with the opportunity, but most were too busy to listen in. "Whatever you're doing with... a certain Lord, Redwyne has fallen for it, Rowan and Caswell too."

Jae nodded impatiently. Daenerys had already told him as much. "And the rest?"

"Some wanted to sit back and see if they can pull it off, others wanted to warn you. The latter have been told to keep their mouth shut."

"Good." He leaned closer to her and said, "You wouldn't happen to think me… unnecessary now, would you?"

"Of course not, Your Grace!" Lady Olenna replied in a harsh whisper. "I understand the optics of the revelation, in light of other developments, but we were neither aware of them nor complicit in them."

"And the involvement of your Great-Nephew? Are you capable of sitting by and watching him stumble to his doom?"

"I am a Tyrell first. The boy should've known better."

Jae leaned back to examine the old Lady, searching for any hint of treachery in her countenance. Finding nothing he could declare suspicious, he nodded as Margaery came to join them. "You will both stay here until the fighting is done, and I expect you to obey this time." He couldn't help but smile when he saw Lady Olenna's mutinous expression.

"Of course, Your Grace." Margaery curtsied.

"Very good." He approached his wife and gave her a light kiss. It did not go unnoticed by the nobles around. "I will send word when there are developments."

She nodded and wiped away an errant tear that escaped down her cheeks. "Be well, my King."

"And you, my Queen."

He strode into the middle of the courtyard where Lucas already waited for him with his steed and mounted up. Most of the Reacher Lords who'd come for a chance to see dragons were also already mounted, with one peculiar absence. "Where's Lord Tyrell?" he asked no one in particular.

He got his answer when the fat man blundered into the courtyard, red-faced and panting. His doublet was only half-buttoned, his armor nowhere in sight. "Your Grace," he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. "I was under the impression Court would be held during breakfast."

More like, I was under the impression a little war wouldn't get in the way of comfort. "Court? We march to battle, Lord Tyrell, there's no time for such things." Lady Olenna snorted in derision and hobbled away as Jae gave the man an appraising look. "But feel free to take as long as you like. I'm sure you'll catch up."

Mace gave up on trying to button up his doublet to look up in confusion. "Catch up?"

Jae did not deign to answer his question. He clicked his tongue and the entire courtyard sprang into movement as one, riding out of Grassfield Keep in rows of two, the rest of the army already waiting outside, mounted and ready to go.

Over the next five days, the anticipation in the army slowly increased. The boasting and the jesting quietened down and men looked to the horizon, grim-faced. Jae's mood matched theirs, though for different reasons. He did not mind a death on the battlefield. It was an honorable way to go, one fit for a dragon.

The thought of dying because of treachery, on the other hand, filled him with such a cold rage he could barely control himself. Even his dragons felt it as they grew agitated and snapped at anyone who got too close.

Men died in battle. It could happen a thousand different ways, few of them in his control. Errant arrows, a slip in the mud, a tactical mistake – he made his peace with it. But dying because he'd been outsmarted, that one he'd never forgive himself.

So he rode, day after day, and he waited as Lord Mertyns worked his magic among all the Lords who dreamed of a weak King they could bend to their will. They passed through Tumbleton on the third day, and the moment of reckoning began to approach.

They still had another five days to reach the Blackwater, but he had to spring the trap well before then. He needed time to settle the men and establish a new chain of command.

Dusk began to fall on the sixth day when he ordered the army to make camp at the edge of a forest, some thirty leagues north of Tumbleton, a wide meadow spreading before them. His Kingsguard nodded, their helms hiding their anxious expressions. They'd argued and argued against his plan when he revealed it on the march. In their opinion, he should've forced Mertyns to name his co-conspirators and execute them all before they got a chance to strike.

Knights, he shook his head as he dismounted. Never saw a problem they couldn't kill. Jaehaerys had to maintain at least the appearance of justice. He couldn't accuse men of treason they hadn't committed, execute them for an act they had merely talked about. Mertyns' testimony would be far from enough to convince the rest of his Lords. Besides, it's not as if I have time to hold a bloody tribunal.

Some of his men had set up a table at the edge of the forest and laid with fruits and ale for Jae to enjoy while they set up his tent. Jae sat there, plucking a grape every once in a while and tossing it into his mouth as he watched the camp rise up in front of him.

A chill had fallen on the land, and with every minute the shadows grew darker, the torches more prominent. His Kingsguard stood behind him, one eye on the forest behind him and the other on the men in front of him.

He saw men in Baratheon colors sneak into the forest in pairs. To hunt game, they claimed, though if anyone wondered why they did so in full armor, nobody brought it up. The darker it got, the more men disappeared into the forest, and none came back.

Still, Jaehaerys sat there and enjoyed his grapes, his fingers itching to draw Blackfyre even as his armor weighed on his shoulders. Lord Orys creeped out of the shadows behind him, and his Kingsguard let him pass right after they nearly killed him.

"Your Grace, my men are ready. When we see the traitors approach, they'll immediately surround them," he whispered in his ear, sticking to the shadows so no one else could spot him.

"Very well." Jae reached up to his shoulders and let Vermithor and Meleys crawl into his hands. He stood up and quickly placed them on Orys' shoulders, much to their displeasure. Stay with him, just for a little while, he commanded, and no biting. They both turned their heads toward Orys, who froze upon finding himself in such close vicinity of death, and examined the young man. Declaring themselves satisfied, they gave a resigned purr and settled on his shoulder.

"Keep them safe, Orys. And do try to save my life."

"I will not fail you, Your Grace." Orys walked back into the forest, stiff as a board as he did his best to avoid annoying the young dragons.

Jae back down, rubbing his palm over the knuckles of his left hand. Something told him everything would come down to the following chain of events; all he'd achieved, all the crimes he committed, he'd know if they were worth it soon enough. If he walked away unscathed, he'd win the war.

"Your Grace." A steward approached and bowed. "Your tent is ready."

Jae glanced at the giant white pavilion and the Baratheon men sneaking inside it. "Indeed it is, thank you." He gave the steward a kind smile and got off his chair.

"Come." He motioned to his Kingsguard. "Let's see if we mean to die tonight."

He walked to his tent, held the flap aside, and entered. He came face to face with at least three dozen Baratheon men-at-arms, Lord Orys' best. In their chainmail, their swords drawn, they stared at him in silence, their faces hidden in the shadows. They huddled together with little room to breathe, their bodies taut like drawn bowstrings.

"A thousand dragons to each of you if I survive this," he told them as he drew Blackfyre and turned to the entrance into the tent.

"You're not going out there first, Your Grace." Ser Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him through the crowd of bodies to the back of the tent, Ser Barristan and Ser Loras beside him.

"Am I to wait here like an idiot and pray it all turns out all right?"

Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan answered in unison, "Yes." They had a point, though Jae wanted to argue it dearly. The rebels needed to finish him off quickly; if they waited too long, the rest of the camp would stir and they'd end up slaughtered.

No, by the time other commanders came to ask about the commotion and the screams, they had to have Jae's body lying at their feet. Once the other Lords saw the deed was done and they could do nothing about it, they'd be far more inclined to listen to any proposal that involved making peace with Aegon and Tywin Lannister.

So he waited, and he listened for any sound of movement from outside. Time passed, little by little, and a thousand fears made themselves known. Mertyns could actually betray him. And Orys, did he forget about Robert Baratheon and his foolish dream? He hated the thought of relying on others so heavily, of knowing one whimsical, unexpected decision could decide his fate. Now you know why men don't like the thought of you with dragons.

I am King, and they are not. Jae kept a firm grip of Blackfyre until he heard the footsteps approaching the tent. There had to be dozens of them, but no more. The traitors couldn't justify marching through the camp with all their men behind them. A dozen men each, at most.

Suddenly the sounds of footsteps went silent. Every man in the tent tensed in anticipation, those in the front row most of all. Jae watched the entrance motionless and did not even blink when half-a-dozen men burst through the flap only to find glinting Baratheon swords arching toward their necks. They died quick deaths, gurgling blood and gasping for breath. More sounds of running followed, but this time they came from behind the tent. Jaehaerys clicked his tongue, and the men inside the tent streamed outside as one.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he heard Lord Redwyne call, the hint of panic in his voice unmistakable.

Jaehaerys wanted to follow, but Ser Arthur's hand on his shoulder kept him from moving. He heard a clash of steel, followed by a grunt and what had to be the sound of a body hitting the ground. All went quiet again.

"Lord Mertyns!" came a call, followed by exclamations and curses. He's turned on them.

"If you lay down your arms, His Grace has promised no punishment will come to you. The treason is that of your Lords, not your own. Lay down your arms and live," Lord Orys commanded in a voice that eerily reminded Jae of Stannis.

A beat of silence, followed by a clatter of swords and pikes. "Search them!" Orys barked and more sounds of movement followed.

"This is an outrage!" a voice called. "I demand to see the King!"

"You'll see him soon enough, Caswell, him and Blackfyre."

No response followed.

"Am I allowed to leave, then, dear mothers?" Jae asked, tired of trying to divine meaning through sounds alone while staring at the dark, empty tent.

"Aye, Your Grace," Ser Arthur said, but his three Kingsguard all stepped in front of him, brandishing their white shields to cover his entire body, in case any quarrel came flying out of the crowd. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan had no intention of holding the flaps aside only to end up surprised at what awaited them outside.

With two quick slashes of their ancient swords, they sheared the flaps off the entrance and snapped back into formation. They came upon a glorious sight, one that had the corners of Jae's lips twitching.

Baratheon men surrounded the traitors in a half-circle, a growing crowd gathering beyond. The men-at-arms were being detained one by one, searched for their weapons and pulled away, while the rebel Lords found themselves on their knees with swords at their throats.

The instant Jae stepped outside, two forms flew through the air and landed on his shoulders, playfully nipping at his ears. Capable of flight when the occasion calls for it, huh?

His Kingsguard relaxed, but still, they did not lower their shields. They saw traitors everywhere.

"Your Grace, what is the meaning of this?!" Rowan demanded.

"You tell me, Mathis," Jae replied. "Do you usually send your men into the King's tent with drawn swords?"

"Your Grace," Lord Swann said, "We did not mean to—"

"Murder me?" Jae asked. "Lord Mertyns, what did they intend to do?"

"Murder you, Your Grace."

"You fucking traitor!" Caswell shouted, damning them in front of the entire army. Jae could not begin to guess how far back the crowd went in the darkness, but he knew all would know of it within the hour.

"Ah, but he led you astray on my orders, so he is no traitor at all," Jae said without bothering to keep the pleasure from his voice. He looked to Lord Orys and said, "Restrain them and take them into the tent. Keep the other men under watch until we can be sure there are no catspaws among them. "

"Aye, Your Grace." Lord Orys said. He cleared the area before the tent within a minute. And I am glad to present your next Hand of the King...

When the Lords and the men were taken, Jae faced the expectant eyes of the knights who'd come to see what had happened. They stared at him in silence, and only a select few hurled curses and accusations at the traitors. "These men have been paid by Tywin Lannister to betray this army, to betray you and murder all those who oppose the Pretender in their beds. As long as I am King, such treason shall never go unpunished. The opponents of justice shall all be brought to heel, this I promise you."

They nodded to his words, the occasional shout of, "Long live the King!" ringing through the night.

Some of Orys' men came to his side bearing torches so everyone might see him. As planned. Jae smiled widely as he gazed upon the knights. "Do you see how badly Lord Tywin fears you, fears us?" he shouted. "He knows himself to be doomed, for what chance could he hope to have in face of warriors such as yourselves?" The play on their pride elicited far more shouts and jests. "And how could he not? You form the greatest army Westeros has ever seen, and tomorrow we will march to the Blackwater and put these Lions to bed!"

Chants erupted all over the camp, and it startled Jae to see that almost the entire army had gathered to listen to him, to hear what had happened. The chants of "Long live the King," broke out as Jae turned and moved back inside the tent, only stopping for long enough to tell Lord Orys, "Do try to make sure they get some rest tonight."

"Aye, Your Grace," Lord Orys laughed as Jaehaerys entered the tent, now lit up by the torches from a dozen Baratheon men standing around it.

He paced around the six rebel Lords, eyeing them all in interest. "I will forgo the torture, won't have you experience pain that leaves you on the edge of insanity.No, I offer the following proposal; you tell me exactly what Lord Tywin ordered you to do during the coming battle, and I don't wipe out your families root and stem with dragonfire." The men exchanged looks, trembling and pale. Jae spied a trail of piss making its way down Caswell's leg. "What do you say?"