Only A Northern Song ~ Game of Thrones / Willas Tyrell ~

Chapter Eighty Three: Plots and Plans

Willas and Daenerys - much to the frustration of her loyal advisors - spent night and day together.

It had been a month since his arrival in Dorne, and the majority of time was spent in the library of Sunspear. It turned out that despite being of an ancestry of Westerosi rulers, Daenerys' education of the cultures of the Kingdoms was lacking slightly, and Willas saw it as his duty to catch her up to speed on it all. He had started his lessons on instructing her to read the Seven Pointed Star, disclaiming it as a dull read but an essential one.

"Even I as half a Hightower lose my attention span with it, but some Lord Tyrell I would be if I didn't have the prayers memorised," he had told her jestfully as he gave her a copy. "Traditions are essential. You may want to change the system, but the smallfolk will take kindly to you if you allow them their faith and livelihoods. Other Targaryens didn't, and they faced the aftermath of it in the form of rebellions and uprisings, best not to risk repeating such times."

When after a few days she had finished it, he presented her with a list of notes describing the Old Faith. There were no books on the Old Gods in Dorne, but Willas had read enough about it in his preparation to marry a northerner that he could sum the faith up rather nicely. When she had done with that, he lectured to her about each of the Kingdoms, and the houses that made up the ruling classes, supported by whatever books he could find. She took to the lessons eagerly and with an aptitude to learn, even if her advisors thought it a waste and a breach of authority.

"You are Queen, he should not be acting as if he is your tutor," Willas had accidentally overheard her Mormont protector tell her one morning when he arrived to the library later than usual. "It is him trying to control you, take power-"

"It is him teaching me about the Kingdoms I wish to rule," Daenerys had corrected him gently, as kind as ever.

That very same day he decided to show her maps of Westeros, explaining the geography of the country to her. He could point out where certain keeps were, what the weather was like and what plants grew, what animals thrived, and what industries kept the people occupied. It stung talking about the North and the Riverlands, nor did he care to talk about the West, the Crownlands or the Stormlands, but he managed it all, thriving best of all when discussing his home. He explained the advantages of each of them, their politics and histories, and how best she could utilise their strengths and weaknesses. When she asked over the Iron Islands, he forced himself not to be bitter, knowing it was essential curiosity. In fact, the whole activity was a masterclass of burying resentments and settling grievances in himself, because he was forcing himself to think logically and not emotionally. That had been a rare thing, and it was almost nice to take away personal struggles when thinking of the Kingdoms.

"What do you suppose my next move should be?" she asked one morning, entering the library while he was still setting the maps out, catching him staring at the ink drawing of the Twins against his better judgement. "I cannot stay here forever, nor can I take King's Landing immediately."

"Dragonstone or Moat Cailin would be your best bet," he answered quickly, grafetul for the distraction of plotting, though his eyes lingered on the Riverlands for just a second more before he looked up at her. "Dragonstone is the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, currently unoccupied since Stannis Baratheon's defeat. Targaryens ruled there for a hundred years before they even considered uniting the kingdoms, and after that it was the seat of the heir to the iron throne. On the other hand, you hold Moat Cailin and you can easily hold influence of both the North and the Riverlands. Given the Lannister's struggles to control both you would be making a rather impressive declaration of intentions."

"If I took Moat Caitlin do you think the North and the Riverlands would rally to support me?" She asked, and against his better judgement Willas snorted out a laugh. "What was that for?"