[h2][center][color=ed1c24]King Tyget Crakehall - Pyke[/color][/center][/h2] Tyget had been stuck in back for more than a few days now, waiting both for a return of letters, and the arrival of the North. He had become fed up with the latter, and now he and the 5 lords who had accompanied him to Pyke sat in Pyke's counxil room arguing over who the new lords of Pyke should be. The Lords present were Edrick Payne, Jaime Lefford, Tytos Dogget, Berrick Brax, and Martyn Clegane. [color=fff200]"Obviously, the only good choice is House Humble."[/color], Lord Clegane rumbled off, the elderly lord Brax scoffed at the middle aged Lord, [color=0072bc]"You cannot seriously believe any Islander house should be placed back at the head of Pyke. A Westerlands house should be placed here, keep these Ironborn under control."[/color], Clegane clearly disagreed, [color=fff200]"If you think for an instant that these pillagers will not immediately rebel then you're a fool! House Humble is an Islander house, but the other Islansders do not respect them. I doubt they will be as likely to rebel against them, since they are Ironborn, but they'll never be able to garner the support they would need to declare independence again. We solve all our problems with it!"[/color], before Brax xould retort Tyget raised his hand, and looked to his assembled Lords before sighing, [color=a187be]"You're both wrong. The Ironborn are not like us. You must remember that, they respect only one thing. [i]Strength.[/i] We put House Humble in Pyke they'll be gone in a month. The same goes for a Westerlands House. We cannot put anyone here who could be so easily overcome. Maester Elrin."[/color], Pyke's maester turned to his current lord, eyebrow raised, "Yes Your Grace?", Tyget poured himself a third glass of wine as he spoke, [color=a187be]"Tell me, with the Kraken Fleet gone and the Iron Fleet nowhere to be seen what house has the Largest Fleet and most gold?"[/color], Maester Elrin thought for a moment before responding, "That would be... House Harlaw Your Grace.", Tyget nodded and took a drink from his glass before continuing. [color=a187be]"They will be the ones who decide what happens after we have gone. They have the most strength, so the Islanders will follow them. W-"[/color], Tyget was cut off by Jaime Lefford, [color=82ca9d]"Then this is simple! We give Pyke to Lord Harlaw, name him Lord of the Iron Islands! He gets Pyke and we have an ally in the Iron Islands!"[/color], Tyget nearly asked Lorch to impale the stupid bastard for interrupting him and glared at the young Lord, [color=a187be]"As I was about to say, it is not that simple. The Ironborn ARE NOT like us. We cannot simply through gold and titles and land at them and expect them to bend the knee. They only respect [i]strength[/i], and gold does not mean strength here. They have a saying around here as I know you are aware of, 'Paying the Iron Price', do you know what it means? It means that an Ironborn would rather kill a lord for his jewels than take them as a gift. House Harlaw represents the single biggest threat to us right now, as even now I believe they have more ships than we do. And if we must bring them to war we will not have a ship filled with Wildfire this time. We must be careful, if we put Harlaw in Pyke we must be careful about how we do so. We must somehow convince them that taking th gold price is their best option."[/color], it was then that a paige entered, coming from the Rookery, one letter in his hand with the seal of Lord Banefort. Tyget raised an eyebrow, but opened the letter as the lords returned to arguing. As he read, his heart sank... and was then filled with rage. He started shaking... the parchment in his hands was shredded and tossed away... wine... he needed wine. Shakily he grasped the glass, but as he shook, the glass was shattered in his hand, the shards flying across the table and a few impaling his hand. The Lords had gone silent now, they were watching their lord as he was engulfed in a silent rage. He turned to the Maester, [color=a187be]Maester... Elrin... bring me... pen and parchment. The rest of you... prepare to leave Pyke. We set sail tomorrow at dawn... now get out."[/color], none of the lords questioned him, they simply stood... all but clegane that is, who dared to ask, [color=fff200]"King Tyget, what is in the lett-"[/color], he was interrupted by Tyget shouting, [color=a187be]"GERALD DISOBEYED MY DIRECT ORDER TO PULL BACK PEACEFULLY!! HE ATTACKEd KINGS LANDING, AND WAS DRIVEN BACK! EVERYONE, OUT!"[/color], the outburst finished the lords filed out, Maester Elrin returned, bandagin Tyget's hand as well as bringing his pen and parchment. With that, Tyget wrote his letter to Lord Harlaw. [hider=Lord Cidran Harlaw] [i]Lord Cidran Harlaw, As I am certain you know, Lord Valorion Greyjoy is dead. Pyke is currently under my control, but that is over now. Lord Greyjoy is dead, and any member of his family on Pyke is dead, all that remains are his brothers and Nephews and Niece. Currently, there is no lord of the Iron Islands. I have no intention of placing a Western house in Pyke, nor will I place and Islander House on Pyke myself. Lord Harlaw, if you so wish, take Pyke. Do so, and I, as King, shall legitamize you, making house Harlaw Lords of the Iron Islands. I am leaving with my fleet, and Pyke will be ripe for the taking. You have the largest navy, it would be simple for you to take it. I ask only that you raid the North rather than the Westerlands. Good luck Lord Harlaw, if you wish to respond to this letter, you will have to write another immediately. King Tyget, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm.[/i] [/hider] That done, Tyget gestured to Maester Elrin to bring him another glass of wine, and told him to send the letter by rave to Lord Harlaw... perhaps something would go right, and he would not need to be on this island any longer. ______________________________________________________________________________________ [h2][center]collab between [@bluetommy2] and [@agentmanatee][/center][/h2] What had he done? It had all gone wrong... they were panicking! The Westerland forces were in full retreat! Just SEEING the dragons of Rhaenyra and Baela torch the wall and Gates was breaking them! It was meant to secure the city for them not drive them away! This was terrible, and he needed to be gone when the smoke cleared, if he wasn't the Tyrells would hang him for treason... but if he followed the Westerlands forces they might find out he had caused this! It was a bad situation either way. He and his men ran, they needed to at least get out of the city and they could decide where to go afterwards. As they ran through Kevan caught something in the corner of his eye, a flaming blade and a Whitecloak... Gerald! He was fighting a Kingsguard, and looked like he was about to run out of steam. Kevan hesitated a moment, before calling his men to halt, "Men! With me NOW! My cousin is in need of help!", though they had lost around 30 men, Kevan's houseguard was still large, and the one Kingsguard was about to be overwhelmed as Kevan and his men charged towards the combat between Gerald and the Whitecloak. "Keva- OH, FUCK YOU!" Gerald attempted to yell for his cousin, only to get another shield to the helm, something that made him more and more infuriated. He once again lept back to look over the situation. The whitecloakless whitecloak stood between him and his cousin, who had a large personal guard with him. So he had to get there, and considering how far he had already been driven back, that may have been a little easier said than done, but he had a little bit left in his chest that felt the warmth of fury surrounded by pain from his wound and his multiple bruises. His eyes shot up from behind his helm, and he launched himself forth, bashing against the knight's shield and parrying a soft swing from his right. Gerald took one last deep breath, before screaming half out of pain and half out of exertion. His body took to the air, again and again, his feet barely holding on the ground, trails of flame following his every cut. He was wide open to any attack, but he continued, and the knight made no effort to stop him. He stopped for a second, kicking the knight back long enough to give Kevan a subtle nod, before continuing his assault, driving the knight further and further into his cousin's grasp. Kevan gulped at the thought of fighting a Kingsguard, even if he was tired from fighting, so he did what any man would do, "Men! Kill the Whitecloak! Any man who does gets 100 Gold Dragons!", at that the Houseguard surged forward, and Kevan was glad he was not gooing to be the focus of a Kingsguard. As he and the 68 or so men surged towards the Knight, Kevan would attempt to come up beside Gerald, "Cousin! Where is Tyget? Did he order this attack?" Gerald had fallen back to where the guards had come from, his side felt like it had been lit with dragonfire. He pulled the dented boar from atop his head, looking at his cousin and grimacing as he gripped at his wound. "Tyget ordered me to stand down, I guess I should have listened." He pulled himself to his feet from the kneel he had fallen into, still gripping his wound with his left hand. "So, dragons, was that you? Because... shit." He interrupted his own question to look back at the kingsguard with wide eyes. The white shielded knight had stood before the charge, and was now pushing his way through the guards, despite heavy wounding on his person. He turned towards the young king as he ran his blade through a boar's throat. Half a growl, half a yell, his words were surprisingly calm considering the circumstances. "Fly to the Holdfast! Now!" Before Gerald could turn, he felt the sting of dirt and wind from the dragon's wings as it flew for the holdfast, but he didn't look up, instead, his body twitched beyond his control, and his stomach opened up, allowing a squid to squelch within, and butterflies travelled up to leave through his mouth. The knight's armor had been turned red by his own blood, yet he had managed to get through the household guard, like all he had left was instinct to kill Gerald and Kevan, a force like the wind. Gerald gripped at his sword again, motioning for Kevan to do the same. Kevan's face turned white as the Kingsguard cut through enough of his House guard to reach him and Gerald, and he drew his blade in preparation, but hoping his guard could stop him or at least end the coming fight quickly. He raised his shield to block whatever the Kingsguard intended to hit him with. The kingsguard shot forth with speed that Gerald couldn't react to, his entire face flew open, his eyes, his mouth and his brows, he swore he could hear his ears opening. The knight speared forth with his blade, catching Kevan's right cheek and going up. It flew loose, blood going to the sky, and Kevan's scream following it. While the guard was distracted, Gerald lunged forth, and his sword went across the white knight's neck, and the helmed head rolled. He turned to attend to his cousin, and it was a horrible sight. His right eye had been cleaved in two like a side of beef, there was a slash running down from there, stopping about an inch from Kevan's mouth. Kevan held his hands to his face, writhimg in agony, and obviously screaming, "AHH!! MY EYE! M--mMY EYE!!! I CAN"T.... CAN-CAN'T SEE!! WHAT HAPPENED TO IT??!! BY THE SEVEN AHHHH!!", one of his houseguard started trying to pull the shouting Kevan up to his feet, though it was difficult. As Kevan was lifted to standing his screaming abaited somewhat, more moaning loudly now, "Gerald... h-how bad.... how bad is it?", he moved his hands away, his eye cut clean in half, his hazel eye de-coloured now and blood leaving the ruined orb. Gerald cringed at the brutal wound, twice as bad as his own when he had fallen in that battle, but this time, he at least hoped that no one would die, even if they could be brought back. Thinking quickly, Gerald twisted his wrist, swinging his sword and snuffing it. He pulled the black cloak from behind him, slashing off a corner and a large bit more. He turned the cloak until it was concentrated enough to act as a bandage, and tied it aroung Kevan's head, he held it out for a second, turning to the guards. "White flower, big green leaves! Now!" The guards quickly scrambled through the closest ditch, pulling out a Small white flower. Gerald grabbed it. In his youth he had hoped to be a maester, good thing too. He crushed it in his hand, and put what remained of it's petals into the makeshift bandage. "I'm going to push this in, don't close your eye, it will hurt, but you have to remain strong, okay cousin?" He held the petals a few inches away from the eye, preparing for what came next. Kevan stood stock still, his hands curled into fists, "Alright, alright I won't close it just get it over with!", he hoped whatever scar he was going to have was not too bad, after all he was about to have to leave Kings Landing and being a horribly scarred man was not going to help, "And Gerald Yes! I convinced the sisters to burn the gates down! I wasn't expecting... what happened, I swear to you they were trying to help! They despise Aerys Targaryen like us.", with that he braced himself for the pain to come. Gerald knew it, what other reason would Kevan have to be in the Dragonpit, but hate Aerys? Gerald didn't even know the lad, sure he was a usurper and a Blackfyre, that much he was sure of, but... wait, he should be giving medicinal aid, not thinking about something so foolish. Gerald shook his head, bit his lip, and drove the makeshift bandage in. It would enter the bloodstream, causing some... less than savory effects on the brain, but it would also act as a painkiller until they got some anti-infection. He felt the squelching of the ruined eyeball, and the black fluid leaking from within. He grimaced, tightening the knot with his off hand and then pulling away. [i]Here comes the fun.[/i] As Gerald pushed the flower into Kevan's eye, Kevan screamed, it was extremely painful for a few moments... and then it very quickly wasn't. Suddenly the pain was gone, faing quickly... along with the world around him. It all faded into color suddenllly, the streets the blood, his men, Gerald all of it was fading into the colors... and then he was elswhere, a field? No, no regular field, the colors swam, and ebbed and flowed, he could not focus on anything and the world swam. It was... peaceful, happy... calm... and then he saw it. In the distance, white hair long, flowing, skin alabaster and smooth. Kevan stumbled forward through the colors, slowly making progress towards the figure... he knew it, surely he did? Why else would he be so focused on it? Why was he running to it? Stumbling, he surely looked foolish... and the figure turned, uts features still swimming but with one constant... Violet dots, glowing for eyes. Eventually, he came before it. He looked up, and the features began to focus, its face swimming into place to form the reason for his insistence on approach. It was Rhaenyra, her face now order amongst the chaos around her, the colors coming to order on her face. She bent down to him, taking his head in her hands, she kissed his cheeks again, though now her lips burned like fire, branding her kiss on his cheeks. It felt good, a stupid smile speading over his face as he stood, laughing with her. They walked and they ran, and they sang and so much... and again he felt peace and calm and happiness... and it all melted away. Gerald frowned as the effects of the flower set in, Kevan began drooling, and his eye was unfocused and tremoring in it's socket, he was drooling now, saliva dripping to the ground from his lip. Gerald moved himself under Kevan, and began hauling him despite his own injuries, whistling for his horse which didn't come. [i]Damnit[/i]. He turned towards the guards, and they had already sent forth one of their horses for him to place Kevan upon. Gerald pushed his cousin onto the rump of the horse, taking the saddle and moving it to a slow walk, he couldn't risk letting Kevan fall. Gerald sighed, motioning for the guards to follow. He rode for the Iron Gate which he had entered through, and the gate he planned to leave through. --- ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- ------ ---- --- They stopped to camp, the howling of the wolves was too much for Gerald to bear, he was half tempted to scream back, but for now they needed a fire, and Gerald needed to bandage his wound. He tied his horse to a tree, brushing the side of it's head before throwing the now sleeping Kevan over his shoulder and planting him against a log. The rest of the guard lit a fire in front of the injured Master-at-Arms, and then sat, eating rations of meat and what fruits they had left. Gerald walked over to Kevan, taking a seat beside him, lifting his arm and allowing a guardsman to begin bandaging his wound. Kevan awoke with a start exclaiming, "Rhaenyra!", the one word escaped his lips as he looked around, no idea where he was. It was dark, night, his eye felt horrible and only his left could see. The field was gone, the colors were gone... Rhaenyra was gone. He looked around, seeing his men and Gerald, his mouth working wordlessly for a moment before he spoke, "where... what... I don't...", he seemed more than a little confused and out of his regular reality. "Rhaenyra?" Gerald questioned with one raised eyebrow. The guardsman had done surprisingly well at bandaging the wound, but they had to find a maester soon, Gerald wasn't betting on luck saving him this time. "The Targaryen wench? Were you dreaming of her?" Gerald asked coyly, his confusion turned to smugness, and his lower lip engulfed the upper in a smirk that made himself mad. "I mean, I wouldn't, but hey, I'm married, so you can have her." He chuckled, the crackling of the fire ringing in his mind. Kevan rubbed his left eye, scowling at Gerald's jokes, "You don't... Seven Hells what happened? You don't get it Gerald... I... how do you think I convinced her to burn the gates to the ground? I thought it was going to turn the siege into a trivial matter, didn't think the men would break just by seeing them... so I... may have... offered Rhaenyra... to be my wife, and Wardeness of the west.", he saw no reason to lie to Gerald, what was done was done, and he was an amiable man... if what Tyget had told Kevan was true, "And don't call her a wench." Gerald growled for a moment, looking away and sniffing up a heavy breath. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but the words were caught in his throat as he realized what these words meant. "What you speak of is treason, cousin, Wardeness of the West? Tyget is the Warden of the West, and his wife the Wardeness, you don't mean what I think you mean, do you cousin?" He again raised an eyebrow, his face more boarlike than it had ever been. Kevan did realise for a moment what Gerald meant, but then he looked disgustedly at Gerald, "Kinslaying? Do I look like a damn Lannister to you?", he realized the mistake of asking that question the moment he asked it, "Don't answer that. Do... what do you think will happen when Tyget takes the throne? Tywin is his heir, and you're the second in line after Tywin. Therefore, as you and Tywin are his heirs to the crown, I am the heir to Casterly Rock... did... did you not know that Gerald?" Gerald massaged his temples, beginning to speak with his hands before he did his mouth. "Okay... Why would we simply allow the closest claimant to the throne continue to live in the realm when it is an obvious threat to Tyget's rule? And you really thought that the army wouldn't run when a FUCKING DRAGON was set upon them?! Are you half mad Kevin? You dare insult common sense with these... these idiocies! The others take my arse! And the others take you! We're done talking!" Gerald angrily stood, taking his sword and heading for the woods to hunt. Kevan's anger rose as Gerald spoke, what right did a man who until a scant few months ago was a fucking crow? "If she marries me, she won't be able to push for the throne anymore you fucking fool! I was tying the family further to the Targaryens and by ruling the Westerlands she would have stopped seeking the Throne! The Dragon was set upon the walls and gates not the damn men! Perhaps if you had prepared the fucking men better we wouldn't even be having this damned conversation right now you fire-worshipping zealot!", he was on his feet now, his guards didn't move, not their place to step between kin unless it got dangerous, "I lost my FUCKING EYE trying to save you, and you repay me with insults?! You may have the name of Crakehall, but you're still acting like a fucking crow!", he shouted at Gerald as he began to walk into the woods. Gerald turned around, his face beet red, his hands clenched into fists and shaking around his sheathed blade. "It's not her I'm worried about! You hear me!? I've seen it in my flames! That woman will corrupt you, and my brother will die! I'll be sent back to the wall, and then The Rock burns! I know what that means! There is no room for failure in my prophecies! They are correct no matter what they show, and what they show is death for our kin unless we change our course, aye you lost things, eyes, coin, I lost my life once! And I saw it then, the flame within my family, that flame I had awakened, how dare you call what you don't understand zealous foolishness! I hadn't understood her purpose in my flames then, but I know now, and I know now why she continues to appear, with Lord Tyrell and the wretched boy king. Kevan, you know not of loss until you've felt the stranger's touch, the feeling of the great other, the great stallion's cock or WHATEVER it is that comes after death, and you shall listen to me until we sit the Iron Throne, and as long as I live, you shall NEVER sit in the Rock!" Every word added to his rage, his eye filled with blood, his fists held so tightly his knuckles were white. "You think I'd betray my fucking family??!! For... For what? No woman could EVER force me to betray my family! I Knew Tyget longer than YOU Gerald! While you were at the wall I was born, and I grew up with Tyget as the head of the family! I KNOW HIM! What do you know? Of your own brother? Of your family? You ABANDONED the family! YOU RAN AWAY to fight and join some band of brigands, and you ended at the wall to be friends with a FUCKING LANNISTER!!! Your fire is so damn correct is it? Did it tell you you'd win tonight? To disobey Tyget? Did it tell Stannis he was going to be on the throne all those centuries ago??!! She HATES AERYS! WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD EVEN GIVE ME A CHANCE??!! And how DARE you deny me what is mine by RIGHTS of LAW!!?? How will you do that Gerald?", he approached his cousin, now one of his guards had stood, and all of them were watching the two Crakehalls intently, "HOW? YOU WON'T BE THE KING! Tyget will be! And then Tywin, and then his son, and his son, and his son but NEVER you! SO HOW COUSIN??!! WHAT DO THE FLAMES TELL YOU??", he was in a spitting rage. Gerald sniffed, and then he chuckled, and then he laughed. His eyes were pointed squarely at the campfire. "What did she tell you? What did you say, Kevan? Because I know you better than you think. [i]I am Kevan Crakehall, Master of Arms on the small Council and cousin of King Tyget. If you listen to what I have to say, I feel we can all... benefit from this situation.[/i], remember that? Kevan? Remember your words? I do, and I remember hers as well, that is what the flames tell me, that is how I know I'm right, Kevan." He shrugged. "But maybe it was just a lucky movement in the fire." He laughed. "Maybe you've not hidden anything. HAH, how likely that is." Kevan recoiled, his mouth agape at what Gerald had just said... his words, the words he had said to Rhaenyra when they first met mere hours ago. He scowled at Gerald, "What... how do you... you saw us? Talking in your fucking fire... you... fucking... ", he backed up, breathig heavily as he collected himself before talking again, "a fine parlor trick eavesdropping Gerald... what makes you so damn sure she can manipulate me? What makes you think I would EVER betray my family? For any reason? How fucking weak willed do you rhink I am?", he again approached Gerald, the same distance as before now, "Besides, how will you stop me from taking the Rock? It is MINE, by blood and by-" Gerald interrupted. "I've been having dreams of the flames as well, dreams I cannot explain, but I see more in them." He lied, still looking into the campfire. "[i]'I demand to know what the fuck has happened, who in the gods damned Seven kingdoms gives Wilas Tyrell, a traitor to his vows as Kingsguard, regency of Kings Landing! And FURTHERMORE who gave the right to a SLAUGHTER of a sixth of the Goldcloaks! I demand to know why the hell a traitor has been allowed to murder the commander and claim the Goldcloaks for himself!'[/i] I was eavesdropping that one from the wall apparently." Any trace of anger on his face had been replaced with a wide grin, and he seemed exceptioally pleased with himself. Again Kevan stopped speaking as Gerald interrupted him, now perfectly reciting his words to Willas when he arrived in Kings Landing. His grin only made Kevan angrier, "So, you can tell me what I said in the past? That your fucking trick Gerald? Your fire tells you that??!! Fine, you've given me no reason why I would BETRAY my family!" "As I've shown, Willas, my flames don't lie, no matter what words you speak, and no matter what you think is your future." Gerald's eyes widened a bit, and the flames told him Kevan's next words. [i]'To hell with your flames!'[/i] He would say, and Gerald waited for those words. Kevan didn't care what Gerald said, he couldn't tell him his future, "To HELL with-" "Your flames? Or were you going to say something else?" Gerald placed a fist to his chest, smiling still. Kevan's mouth hung open, as he glared at Gerald, "You... you... you can tell what I am going to say? So what? You intend to take from me what is mine and decide my life for me?" "You can have Casterly Rock," Gerald said without the smile plastered upon his face. "But you will not have Rhaenyra." Now Kevan smiled, a cruel smile, "Tell me Gerald, how will you stop that? I'll marry whomever I wish. I will certainly not let you kill her because... you had VISIONS in your flames! I'll have Casterly rock AND Rhaenyra Targaryen! Your not my father, and your not my King so how would you stop me?", his sneer was wide. Gerald stepped back and placed a hand upon his sword, not drawing it, just resting. "I'd kill you." His face remained blank, not even a scowl, his eyebrows were too high, yet not anything else, just a complete lack of emotion. "I'd kill you and suffer the consequences, I'm sure Tyget would believe his brother over the word of whatever person you got to speak for your cold body." The wind picked up, and a soft breeze blew by both men, sending what remained of Gerald's cloak into the air. Kevan went cold as Gerald threatened to kill him... he was bluffing, kinslaying was one of the worst crimes in existence... he wouldn't, would he? Kevan took a step back, "You... you'd... you fucking wouldn't, your bluffing! Kinslaying? You wouldn't fucking DARE! And if you did, Tyget would hang you, and... and...", he put his hand on his own sword, not sure where this was going now. Gerald snorted, though his face remained the same, he drew his blade, putting a hand out towards the guardsmen, signifying that they'd better not move. Now was the time to do something scary. Gerald walked over to the campfire, drawing his sword across his arm, allowing a drop of blood to land upon the open flame. The flame grew huge, filling empty air like water. "See your future, Kevan, see your 'loyalty'!" The flames twisted into a vision of Kevan, but slightly aged, wearing lordly attire. It twisted more, into that of Tyget, old and gaunt, wearing a crown of flame upon his head. Then it showed Rhaenyra Targaryen. Finally, the flames grew, showing Tyget tied to a pole, and Kevan throwing a torch. The flames dissipated, back to their normal size, and Gerald held his arm above the flame, giving a frown to Kevan. "Loyal, are you? My vision looked exactly like that, but before your face was covered by a veil of flame, and now I know, and now you know, do not test me, boy." He spat out that last word with all the authority he had left in his fading and tired voice. Kevan watched the visions, his eyes growing wide as he watched... he looked like a Lord... and Tyget a King. He saw Rhaenyra and then... he burned Tyget... why would he do that? for what reason? No... no this wasn't right, gerald was wrong... Kevan let go of his sword and turned to Gerald, his face white from the experience, "... No. No, it's not right. Why would I burn Tyget? Rhaenyra didn't... she didn't even SPEAK to me... your... it's wrong Gerald! I will never betray my family, regardless of what you say!", his hand was off his sword now, he felt he was safe from any damage. "How sure are you of that? How sure that I am wrong? How sure that you are a loyal and true man? My flames do not lie, but you seem to be an expert at lying, judging how you continue to lie to yourself." Gerald sheathed his sword and sat upon the log, resting his head upon his knuckles. Kevan balled his hands into fists, he turned to look at Kings Landing, its walls aflame, its gates gone and turned to ash, and he looked back at Gerald, "Well... it does not matter. I can't go home to Kings Landing, and I can't go back to the Westerlands. How many Lords lost their sons? How many are going to blame the damn dragons? And it was me who loosed them on the city... Gerald I'm leaving, I have... somewhere to go. You can return to the Westerlands and meet Tyget's wrath yourself for disobeying him... I have my own path... he'll know within days, one of the lords is going to send him a letter Gerald, and tell him you told them to charge.", he looked to his guards, "Alright, its a two day march to the holdfast of Harrington. We need to start marching.", He moved to get his things. Gerald stood clasping his hands. "I hope that eye gets infected, cunt." He glared, before climbing upon his steed and galloping west.