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-Chapter 90-
🕑 Added 2025-01-08 06:03:18 +0000 UTC-Chapter 90-
-20th day of the 2nd moon of the year 301 AC-
-POV Cersei Lannister-
I observed the officers of the freshly assembled Crown's mighty army.
‘With so many men, the lords of the Crownlands will be forced to join us. We might even gather 10,000 or 20,000 more soldiers for our army within one to two weeks,’ I thought.
Smiling, seeing the end of this war within reach, seated high upon my throne overlooking everyone except the Iron Throne to my left, I said to my right-hand man, without whom all of this would have been much more complicated:
"I commend you, Qyburn."
He bowed deeply and said:
"I only followed your instructions."
I smiled at his false modesty, which he wore constantly like a sort of armor, and then added:
"You know you did much more than that, and I thank you."
"I am at your service," he said.
"What is my son doing?" I asked, surprised by his absence since he was usually punctual.
‘A quality he was forced to learn with…’
I forced myself to dismiss all distracting thoughts to focus on the present moment.
"I sent several servants, but each came back saying the king is preparing and will arrive soon," Qyburn said, apparently unaware of my son’s whereabouts.
"Hmm," I murmured, impatient for Tommen to deliver his speech so they could set off for Storm’s End.
‘Once we take Storm’s End and Griffin’s Roost, we will be in a position of strength and can corner Ronnet.’
The doors opened, and a herald announced in a loud and solemn voice:
"KING TOMMEN BARATHEON, FIRST OF HIS NAME, KING OF THE ANDALS, THE RHOYNAR, AND THE FIRST MEN!"
‘No,’ I thought, horrified as I saw Tommen appear in full battle armor.
I rose, furious, but before I could say anything, Tommen spoke before everyone:
"I thank you all for agreeing to join the Crown in these troubled times. I have heard some rumors coming mainly from the agents of the traitor Ronnet Connington."
"Tomm…"
"Do not interrupt the king, Queen Regent," Ser Balon said, tacitly ordering me to stay silent.
I widened my eyes, and as I was about to respond sharply, Tommen added:
"To prove my commitment to this war, I will lead our men into battle, and we will prevail, for we have more than twice the number of men as House Connington."
"Tommen," said a man holding an axe, striking his chest with his fist.
‘No,’ I thought, watching others quickly follow his example.
"Tommen…"
‘Stop,’ I screamed inwardly, standing in shock at what was unfolding before my eyes after all I had done to ensure this would never happen.
"TOMMEN… TOMMEN… TOMMEN!"
"N…"
"Your Grace," Qyburn said, placing a hand on my shoulder, interrupting me before I could silence them.
"Let go of me," I said furiously, my voice drowned out by the mercenaries chanting my son's name.
"The king has spoken," Qyburn said.
"He is just a child," I said, desperate.
"He carries the blood of your late husband. He will manage," he replied before quickly adding:
"If we enhance his strength with a small unit of improved soldiers using the scarce reserves I’ve kept from the last drops of hidden blood, we can ensure a ten-man personal guard that can turn the tide on the battlefield. This mass of insignificant men could then, under the light and bravery of their king, help us win this war."
"He is my last lion," I said, before being brusquely interrupted by Qyburn, who concluded:
"He is the king. He cannot take back his words now. The only thing he can do is move forward and fight."
‘He’s right. Tommen has just boosted the officers’ morale. If he goes back on his words now, he will become a laughingstock and lose the last shred of authority he has over his people,’ I thought.
I bit my cheek, then said:
"Find soldiers willing to die for him."
Qyburn nodded, bowed, and left while I listened to the officers continue to cheer for my son.
‘My sweet Tommen,’ I thought, restraining myself from yelling at him for putting me in this position and not consulting me about this madness.
---
-POV Tommen Baratheon-
After dismissing all the officers so they could prepare our troops for an immediate departure, I found myself alone in the throne room, facing my mother, who, as I had anticipated, was furious.
‘I had no choice. Only I, their king, have the chance to make these 60,000 men fight like demons to deliver us victory. Without this, the defenders Ronnet leaves behind will be more than enough to defeat this mob,’ I thought, fully aware that, while 60,000 was an impressive number, a cavalry ten times smaller could easily defeat them on open terrain.
"What were you thinking?!" my mother yelled as soon as the doors closed behind me.
"Mother…"
"What could have possibly crossed your mind to make you put your life in danger after everything I’ve done to ensure you would never see a battlefield in your entire life?" she continued, furious, cutting me off before I could say a word.
‘She’s not listening to me.’
"I…"
"We are losing, Mother!" I said, attempting to adopt a firm tone—the same tone I had used yesterday with my guards, which had compelled them to obey me.
‘The same tone Ronnet used when we misbehaved,’ I recalled briefly.
It worked, as she fell silent.
I added:
"You know it, I know it, everyone knows it."
"We have a plan…" she said, trying to find excuses to convince me not to engage personally in this war.
‘But I’ve been involved ever since you decided to make me king at all costs, even when I didn’t want this crown. You dragged me into this war,’ I thought.
I didn’t blame her, but it was hypocritical to think that, even if we lost, Ronnet would spare us simply because Rodrik and Joanna are my siblings.
‘The proof lies in the fact he sold Myrcella to the Dornish. So, what would he do to me?’ I wondered.
"Whatever plan you’ve concocted, Mother, we both know the only way to defeat Ronnet is by overwhelming him with superior numbers," I said, immediately adding:
"Right now, we no longer have the impressive numbers we did a few moons ago. Our last chance is to corner him after taking his family hostage."
"You don’t understand what you’re doing," my mother said, sounding defeated.
"I know exactly what I’m doing," I replied, nodding.
"Unlike Joffrey, I paid attention to all our instructor’s lessons, and I intend to demonstrate everything I’ve learned," I said confidently, knowing I wouldn’t even need to confront him to win—just seize the Stormlands before they could react.
My mother shook her head, then said:
"I know I can’t change your mind, but you must promise me you won’t put yourself in unnecessary danger. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mother," I said, convinced everything would go well, and relieved to have convinced her.
"Very well. I will pray for your safe return," she said, cupping my cheeks in her hands and gazing into my eyes, her anger finally quelled.
"Thank you, Mother," I said, glad she gave me her blessing before I departed.
"I will succeed," I said with a tone that reflected all the confidence I had in myself.
‘I will finally prove my worth,’ I thought, turning and leaving the throne room.
---
-POV Aurane Velaryon-
"Well?" I asked the captain of the scouting ship I had sent to observe the Redwyne fleet from afar.
"The news is confirmed. The Redwyne fleet has left the Stepstones, and they haven’t sent any message to warn the Greyjoy fleet," the captain said.
I nodded, then addressed this distant cousin of mine who no longer even bore our name:
"You may leave, Vaeron."
Vaeron bowed and withdrew. I hadn’t even had time to turn my gaze elsewhere when Asha Greyjoy spoke in an aggressive and impatient tone:
"So we can start countering Euron's advances?"
"No, not yet," I said firmly, as it would be the worst possible move.
‘We have the upper hand now that he’s isolated on Grey Gallows,’ I thought.
"What more do you want?" she asked, irritated.
"Clearly, not the same thing as you," I said, knowing she sought vengeance, while I simply wanted to end this war on the winning side.
"I want him dead," she said.
‘Exactly,’ I thought, as she voiced aloud what I had just been thinking.
"That’s not the same thing," I replied swiftly.
"Then tell me what you would have done in my place, little genius," Asha said mockingly, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Nothing at all," I said.
"Nothing at all," she repeated mockingly, glancing at Bronn, who remained silent.
"We’ll send men and ships to patrol the Redwyne waters, but we won’t provoke Euron Greyjoy for now," I said, resolute in my strategy to win without incurring unnecessary losses.
"And what good will that do us?" she asked disingenuously, though she clearly understood the benefits.
‘But that’s not what she wants. She wants to see him break, to see him kneel at her feet before she finishes him,’ I thought, sensing the deep-seated hatred she carried and occasionally let slip when speaking of him.
"He’ll leave on his own," I said.
"Is that what Ronnet thinks?" she asked, her tone slightly mocking.
I shook my head, amused, then replied:
"No, that’s what I think. He’s out of supplies and can’t acquire more, as all the gold he stole is on Pyke, and those who could have provided for him are currently incapable of doing so."
"The fleet he brought isn’t large enough to crush us, especially now with Aurane’s arrival," Bronn added.
I nodded in agreement, as he was right. Without the Redwyne fleet's assistance and with the reinforcements I had brought, we now had superior numbers.
"Except he doesn’t know that. He’ll attack, and we’ll lose more than we would have if we had taken the offensive at the right moment," Asha argued, making a valid point.
‘She’s right, but it’s not an issue,’ I thought.
"If he doesn’t know, then we’ll make sure he finds out," I said with a sly smile.
"What are you thinking?" Bronn asked.
"Nothing specific. We’ll simply raise our sails and colors before he can assess the numbers against him," I said plainly.
Asha furrowed her brow, annoyed at having to postpone her revenge, but eventually nodded.
I returned the gesture before standing and leaving the room under her cold gaze.
