Ink and Mirrors

A/N: Hello everyone. It has been a long time, I know. Ever since the riots and acts of arsons that covered my city and neighborhood around my last update things have gotten a bit more complicated than usual for me, particularly with some heavy family emergencies of the medical kind. Things have started to stabilize on my end in recent weeks however, so I am now able to resume my writing. And a good thing too, since this is the month when the 2 year anniversary of the story takes place (well, after I also posted it on Archive of Our own anyway), so I intend to update a lot more.

At any rate, I would like to remind those that may have forgotten by now that in my last chapter, I said that I ended up splitting it in half due to some long-term electric concerns that my neighborhood was undergoing at the time. So, this chapter covers that second half even if the overall scene order was altered. Just making it clear so you know that if the chapter seems to lack much Ramsay content, that's why but now that this part of the setup is out of the way, I can focus on the continuation of that side of the plotline for the next one.

Finally, episode 7 of House of the Dragon gets released tonight so let's hope it's a good one guys. And speaking of the Targaryen-centric spin-off, we may be getting the appearance of a not-so-distant descendant of one of the main characters of that show in this chapter...an appearance I have been teasing at occasionally for a long time now. So, hope you like it!

Read, enjoy, and review!

Skrel of House Magnar looked on from the window of the small guest room on the Ironrath Keep that he had used the previous night. From his vantage point, he could see the godswood of Ironrath. And it certainly had a robust-looking Heartree. However, if half the things he had heard about the so-called Burning Weirwood that was hidden in the underground chambers were true, then House Forrester has been keeping a most intriguing magical secret for centuries; even from the Emerald Council.

"An impressive feat at this point," He thought to himself. "Especially since the secret was kept in the North, so close to Skagos. Goes to show that even after centuries of discovery and experimentation, there is always more to learn."

Then he shook his head as if to clear it, trying to orient his often wandering mind. After all, while he would have really liked to see the new "Oracle of the Burning Weirwood" with his own eyes and meet the last of the Earthsingers in the flesh, he doubted he would get permission from his host or from his king soon enough. They had a long day ahead of them and most importantly, now that he had revealed himself as a member of a secret society of magical practitioners, they may hesitate at the idea to grant him unsupervised access to the secret Forrester tunnels.

He couldn't really take it personally if so, if he was honest with himself. They still barely knew him at this point and they knew about his order's leaders that he reported to even less. And quite frankly, he would lose a bit of respect for his hosts if they would just agree to let him examine their magical secrets without keeping an eye on him this early on.

But ultimately, he was long overdue to give a report and even without confirming the rumors he had heard about the wakened Old God, he still had a lot of interesting things to say ever since he was sent to the Iron Islands to spy on Euron Greyjoy.

A LOT to say...

So, with that in mind, he checked again to be certain that his door was locked and then opened the sack where he kept his Glass Candle, placing it on the table in front of the bed.

The Keeper looked at the magical relic that predated the Doom of Valyria for a moment, almost feeling the shape of its unlit power as he stared at the obsidian creation up and down. Then he snorted, frustrated yet again as he looked at the small mirror behind the candle.

Since Skrell didn't have Blood of the Dragons in his recent ancestry, he knew that he was unable to use the methods his order had discovered that made it much easier and safer to use the Valyrian artifact to communicate with a member of the Emerald Council hundreds of miles away. He understood that, which was why he had to get so close to Rickon Stark before being able to send him a mental message, and even then his spellwork barely held, unable to stop himself from getting the feeling that the ancient magical object didn't appreciate being harness by anyone other than a dragonlord, let alone someone without a trace of Valyrian blood.

Still, he had managed to make use of the alternative solutions the Dragon Dreamer had provided for him to get results. But now that he had to send his report to Skagos with the glass candle, he had to combine the original instructions in order to lit it, focus on diverting the flow of magic to the mirror, and then use the new spell he was taught just before leaving for his mission. An extremely useful spell in the ancient language of truth that was only taught to Keepers on a need-to-know basis.

And that made him sigh in exasperation, for he had come to realize that the more he learned about the tongue that was originally taught to them by the First of the Founders, the more he was both awed and terrified by it. So much potential for good and ill...

He sighed, knowing that despite his personal misgivings, he couldn't afford to delay much longer. He had too many important things to explain.

So, he got to work, continuing to arrange the pieces needed for the spellwork to run smoothly besides his personal limits as a Non-Valyrian sorcerer while he rummaged through his bag. Once he was ready, he cut himself with a mild grimace to drop some blood on the top of the glass candle, before then using the stained tip to smear the mirror itself.

After a few minutes of sheer mental focus, a state of mind that came to him easily by that point due to his glamour magic training, he could feel the ancient power of the Valyrian artifact that he had barely managed to lit flow like a ghostly wave to the reflective surface. And then, once he felt prepared enough, he uttered the words for the spell he was taught.

"Draumr kópa," He said, loud and clear.

As expected, he felt suddenly tired, an ever-present consequence of that kind of magic. But he held on and gritted his teeth, centering his thoughts on the Dragon Dreamer's form to finish the process. He wasn't sure how long he stood there as his strength was drained but every now and then he shook his head when his visions started to deceive him and made him look double.

And then, finally, he stopped feeling weaker...just as the image of a silver-blonde-haired woman appeared in the mirror instead of his own reflection.

He panted for a bit, taking a moment to compose himself. But silently he also took a brief moment to congratulate himself on a successful spell. Particularly since it allowed him to contact a legend of the past back on Skagos.

And while he tried hard not to show it, like always, he certainly still found Shiera Seastar an incredibly alluring beauty.

Taking a deep breath, he bowed his head in respect to one of the most senior living members of the Emerald Council. "Greeting, Dragon Dreamer. I have much to report."

The legitimized Targaryen bastard of King Aegon IV stared at him for a long moment, her mismatched eyes examining him up and down. Then she nodded almost imperceptibly with her still youthful face.

"So it seems, Keeper Skrel," She replied, her voice actually carrying over the mirror. "Let's get started."

Western Outskirts of Manderly Territory: The North

Barely an hour after leaving the Northern city of White Harbor, Margaery Tyrell was sitting on a large carriage, with sturdy wheels built for travel through the early winter as long as the snow was not too thick on the ground yet. Besides her sat her grandmother with a look of calculation on her face to those that knew her well enough to tell as she made conversation with their guests, Sarella Sand of Dorne and Bellegere Otherys of Braavos.

She contained a sigh, growing increasingly tired of manipulative games despite her subtle enjoyment of them over the years. Then she thought of Jon Stark, remembering how refreshing a King he was when it came to that and she found her heart longing for his presence in silence.

"Soon," She thought, trying to calm herself as she looked through the opening of the curtain to the snowy lands beyond. "The letter said he was successful in defeating the Bolton army and had taken the Lord that usurped his ancestral seat prisoner. And according to the raven we received from Winterfell, Lord Manderly already convinced the remaining skeleton crew the infamous Ramsay had left behind to yield the castle to him. We will see each other again soon. I am not really cursed," She **** herself to repeat internally.

Still, it was easier for her to think that after she received word of their success in the battle. For, if she was honest with herself, she found herself barely able to sleep the night before, fearing for the life of her new king. She struggled to contain a sigh, knowing they hadn't actually made a formal decision to get married. And yet...she surprised herself by the ease with which she thought of Jon as her king. True even if they don't get married they still share a common enemy in Cersei Lannister and there is no way chance the Golden Rose will ever bend the knee to her willingly; not after everything.

All the same...for all her desires to want to be "the" queen for much of her life, after all her previous marriages to claimants and monarchs ended in disaster one way or another, a part of her heart was starting to long for a kind, honorable, and understanding husband even more. One that would make her feel safe and cherished. And while another part of her hated to admit it, probably due to habit and the way she was raised and prepared to charm worthy suitors when the time came, she found herself being the one that was defenseless to her suitor's charms. And to make things even more infuriating and, strangely enough, pleasing to her in equal measures, she was fairly certain that Jon wasn't even trying to charm her. Not on purpose anyway.

Margaery bit her bottom lip slightly at the thought, her courtship, and political training in Highgarden screaming at her from the back of her mind, yelling that she had only known him for a day. And yet it had been a very eventful day, full of introspection and at a time where she had to admit, she had been more emotionally **** than she ever remembered being. Then and there, the full weight of her failures, tragedies, hardships, and the price of her ambition crashed into her until she couldn't take it anymore, the act breaking the dam behind her eyes and making her start weeping in public without any control for the first time in as long as she could remember.

And then, as she fell to her knees on the cold stone floor, Jon comforted her without a second thought. The fact she had been sobbing in grief and guilt for her last husband hadn't mattered to him, even if poor Tommen had come from a House that had brought his own so much pain. He was just being kind to her at a time she really needed honest solace. Between that and making a comforting vow to her, encompassed in the famous Stark honor, she could feel herself trusting the man in front of her not just with her aspirations, but with her very heart. And when he kissed her back, somehow, it all felt like things would be alright again before long.

This time, the widowed queen did sigh, realizing in full the speed at which she was actually falling in love with her King in the North. And her upbringing hadn't truly prepared her for something like this, so she honestly wasn't sure what to do with that.

Abruptly, she was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her grandmother open the window of their carriage to look outside, right before closing it soon after.

Margaery raised an eyebrow at the distaste on her face. "Snow. Far too much snow as far as the eye can see. And this close to noon it even reflects the sun so brightly that the light glares at my face! No wonder the Northerners started worshiping trees, of all things, for crying out loud. Green things are in really short supply over here."

"Well, not every land can boast the fertility of the Reach," Margaery told her grandmother patiently. "But in the end, the Northerners have managed to thrive here for thousands of years so I am sure they have learned how to get used to it." She added as she pursed her lips.

At least that was what the Golden Rose hoped, for if she ended up marrying Jon, she was going to have to spend much of her life in the land where winter comes first, and that was certainly going to be a challenging adjustment for her if she was honest with herself.

"Oh well, if I can get used to the foul stench of shit so characteristic of King's Landing, I can get used to this cold," She told herself mentally, moving her neck to adjust the dark green scarf that Lady Wynafryd of White Harbor had gifted her with.

Soon, however, she noticed Sarella Sand chuckling and turning to her grandmother. "Besides, Lady Olenna, even if it sounds like a strange thing to worship, never underestimate the value of trees. There is still a lot of debate on the Citadel on the matter as to how exactly it all works, but there is a tentative consensus among the Maesters that planting more trees helps with increasing the chances of rain during summer. Most useful for agriculture and to help ensure rivers don't dry out. So, while winter is not as much of a problem in Dorne as in the other kingdoms, our arid lands could certainly use more trees."

Before her grandmother could respond to that, Bellegere Otherys chimed in. "And in Braavos, trees are quite literally worth their weight in gold so I am sure some traders would consider the handsome payment they would get from wood to be something worth thanking the gods for. That's not even counting the Heartrees and temples to woodland deities that can be found in the Isle of Gods over there."

"Hmph, perhaps the Northerners were onto something then," Olenna said with a shrug. "Anyway, I have actually been meaning to ask you, Lady Otherys, is there anything you can tell me about this new alliance between King Jon and Braavos?"

The exotic-looking woman paused for a moment, clearly wondering how much to say and what to keep to herself. Curious for the answer herself, the widowed queen carefully examined the envoy's expression for any subtle hints, which made her tilt her head almost imperceptibly yet again. As, not for the first time, she had noticed that Bellegere seemed a little...overwhelmed with the social situations she found herself in, which made Margaery think that she didn't really have much experience as a diplomat.

Which raised even more questions in and of itself.

"As you can imagine," The Free City envoy eventually said, "There are certain things my superiors would rather I keep to myself, especially this early into their tentative alliance. But I can tell you that another representative from Braavos will arrive at White Harbor in less than a moon's turn for a final discussion on the official terms of the treaty before it gets properly signed. I am supposed to give a report to the Sealord's envoy about my observations since I arrived North before the treaty gets ratified and if they do agree to ally, then I am supposed to witness it and add my signature at the end. Still, I am sure if you speak directly with King Jon he would be willing to share more information about this potential alliance when the time comes."

Margaery was silent as she noticed her grandmother pursing her lips at that, looking at the Braavosi woman with impatience. "And the Iron Bank agrees with this alliance?" She pressed. "Particularly with the debt the Iron Throne owes them?"

Bellegere shrugged, but the Golden Rose was well-versed enough in gaining insight through observing body language at court to tell she was nervous and would prefer not to talk about that topic.

"I won't presume to speak for the leaders of the most powerful bank in the world," She finally said. "But regardless, if so, it wouldn't be the first time the Iron bank had funded enemies of those that have failed to pay them to get their due."

Margaery was about to interject before her grandmother could make the clearly inexperienced envoy even more uncomfortable but Sarella Sand was quicker than her.

"I also had some questions for you, Lady Bellegere," She announced with a nod. "Starting with this: Any relation to the famous pirate that shared your very same name AND family name?"

The widowed queen blinked rapidly at that abrupt piece of information, particularly after Bellegere had chuckled a bit before scratching the back of her head.

"She was actually more of a smuggler than a pirate," The exotic-looking woman felt the need to point out. "But yes, she was my great-great-grandmother. I was named after her."

Sarella Sand actually grinned widely at that information and then, curiously enough, she offered the envoy her hand. "In that case, allow me to be your first relative to welcome you to Westeros. Nice to meet you, cousin."

Her eyes widened at that, and Margaery could see that Bellegere was as surprised as she was. "You are my cousin?"

"Yes, since we both share a common ancestor in King Aegon IV, who took your famous ancestor as a paramour for 10 years if I recall correctly," The Dornish woman explained. "You see, his trueborn daughter, the previous Daenerys Targaryen married Prince Maron Martell as part of the deal to finally bring Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms fold. And now, all the Martells that descended from them have some blood of the dragons as well, as did my late father, Prince Oberyn."

There was a long moment of silence inside the carriage as they analyzed her words. But then, Bellegere gave Sarella a warm smile as she took the offered hand. "In that case, it is good to meet you too, cousin. I must say, it's a relief to find people that consider me kin on this side of the Narrow Sea. I don't really know many Westerosi, to be honest."

"Well, I am honestly new to the North myself but I would be happy to help you get settled and answer your questions about this new land you find yourself in," She assured her.

The relief looked palpable in Bellegere's expression at that. "Thank you. Seriously."

Margaery raised an eyebrow at that and as she suspected, she noted that her grandmother was looking slightly chagrined when she turned to glance at Olenna. She almost visibly chuckled at her matriarch's attempts to get the envoy to trust her with valuable information being so easily surpassed by the efforts of a bastard from Dorne; feeling a dark sense of enjoyment at one of the Queen of Thorns' manipulative schemes failing.

At that point, the widowed queen paused, her eyes widening at where her line of thought went. Then she shook her head, as if dazed.

"What is happening to me?" She thought to herself in dawning realization.

She was snapped out of her self-reflection before too long however when she noticed their carriage stop.

"Now what?" Olenna asked with narrow eyes as she heard the coachman's feet hit the ground.

After moving the curtains, Margaery could see that some of the Manderly guards that were sent by Lady Wynafryd to escort them to Winterfell had gotten off their horses and approached their driver.

"I don't think it's Bolton soldiers or brigands," Golden Rose said slowly. "The soldiers are not unsheathing their blades for one."

Before any of her traveling companions could chime in, there was a knock on the door of the carriage.

"What is it?" Lady Olenna called out once she opened the window.

"We have...messenger ravens for all of you, Lady Olenna," The driver replied, his tone confused.

Margaery Tyrell blinked rapidly at that. "What? How could messenger ravens even find us here?"

The driver looked as bewildered as she was but before long, Sarella Sand started chuckling gleefully.

"What on earth are you laughing at?" Olenna demanded to know.

The Dornish woman took a deep breath to calm down but the grin on her face was still wide. "My apologies, Lady Olenna. I am just so happy to have been accepted into King Jon's court. First resurrected men, then Ice Dragons, then a combination of Greenseer and Blood magicks to see the past in a mirror, and now taking advantage of the rare skinchanging powers that First Men are sometimes born with to take messaging ravens beyond just castles? I am going to have so much fun with this new reign of wonders!" She gushed.

The widowed queen's eyes widened at confirmation of more magical feats. "So, King Jon is a skinchanger too?"

"Either that or he has some of them in his army," Sarella replied, feeling confident. "Which makes sense, when you think about it. With so many thousands of Free Folk joining his forces, some of them are bound to be skinchangers due to simple statistics, at least based on what I have gathered from the ancient histories I have read on the Citadel."

"What makes you say that?" Olenna responded in a skeptical tone.

"The Free Folk have a much higher concentration of Blood of the First Men in general than in any other region of Westeros, so it's a matter of mere math," Sarella explained. "Now, while it has been debated a lot in the halls of the Citadel, there is still not a general agreement within the order as to why that's an important requirement to be born with, where that power is concerned at least, but Archmaester Marwyn once told me he suspects it has to have something to do with the fact the Children of the Forest were allies of the First Men when the Andals came. Maybe they shared some of their magic with them in exchange for aid in preventing their sacred Weirwoods from being cut down. But regardless...we are talking about actual magic, Lady Olenna," She stressed. "Either it's all potentially true if you try hard enough to accomplish your goals, or none of it is."

Margaery shook her head again, trying to wrestle with even more revelations that were forcing her to reevaluate her position on important things.

"If you say so," Her grandmother finally said, frowning.

Then she turned back to the driver. "How many letters?"

"Five, my Lady," He replied as he handed them over.

"Very well, thank you. Now let's continue to Winterfell," Olenna told him.

The driver nodded and went back to their horses. Silence returned to the carriage as Olenna examined the envelopes.

"King Jon wrote a letter each for all four of us," Her grandmother finally said, her tone still somewhat surprised. "The fifth one is from Sansa Stark. That one is addressed to you, my sweet."

Margaery's smile widened at that, pleased to finally have news straight from her old friend.

Then she suppressed a sigh, still not used to the way her heart raced at the thought of King Jon taking the time to speak to her, even if it was in written form. Still, she didn't want to give Olenna the satisfaction of making her think she had forgotten everything she taught her, if only because then her grandmother will insist on shadowing her every waking hour, so she tempered her smile a bit.

"I am glad to hear that," She finally said as the carriage started moving again. "I think I would like to read her letter first, if you don't mind."

Olenna Tyrell stared at her with an expression that was hard to read for a moment before handing her the letters, before giving their other companions their own.

And so, they all unfolded their messages and started to read, curious about what they'll learn.

A/N: That's it for now but between finally having more free time, already having the next chapter outlined, and me personally wanting to make up for lost time, expect the next chapter in a few days. All the same, reviews are definitely appreciated. And, honestly, I could use the extra motivation at this point, to be honest. Like I said at the top, had a...complicated couple of months.

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the interaction in the carriage and of course, Shiera Seastars's appearance. For those that are unaware of her, I am not going to get too deep into her backstory in this set of Author Notes but suffice to say for now that she is a significant book-based magical character from the era of the Dunk and Egg novels that are set close to a century before books. Also, for those that are watching House of the Dragon but are not that familiar with the lore, she is actually Daemon Targaryen's great-granddaughter. I will start explaining more her, what she has been up to since disappearing from court and how she ended up with the Order of the Emerald in the next chapter but for now, I hope you are intrigued by this twist. And by the implications of the other references in the scene that she showed up in.

Thanks again for reading everyone. Please review if you can and see you on the next one.