Winter Rose.

xciii.

They towered over her, their faces smudged in black ash as neervous eyes jumped from the dragon to Rhaenar. "I know you don't know me but by my name, and I don't know you but by your armour." She began. "But, we can learn about one another." She grew nervous, her hand tensing. "I am Rhaenar Blackfyre of House Targaryen, the bastard daughter of the Mad King." There, it was out in the open. "Cersei has told you that I wish to destroy your life here, murder your families, and burn your cities to the ground - that's not why I'm here." She explained.

Rhaenar could see the uneasiness. "I'm not that person. That person sits in the Red Keep, on the Iron Throne. She burnt the children of House Tyrell, she blew the Sept of Baelor to pieces because it threatened her." The very reasons Cersei had given to turn Westeros against Rhaenar, were the same actions she had taken herself. "I wish to make the world better, giving opportunities and life to those that have forever been put down by Lords and Ladies."

She looked into the sets of eyes before her, sincerity taking her. "I wish to give you a choice, if you choose to accept or not - it is by your own free will." Rhaenar needed to be kind, offer them something to change their opinion. It was just like those in Slaver's Bay, they were given the option of taking their freedom, of discarding their chains in favour of a better life. Rhaenar didn't crucify the Masters, nor did she alienate those who wished to remain in the jobs they had because they loved the life they lived before she came along - she only made it fair and equal. "Those in the Lannister army," She addressed, turning to face them. "The man you see beside me is Tywin Lannister, perhaps you recognise him?"

Looks of shock crossed their faces, surprise lingering in the hues as they faced the older man who had stepped forward. Some of them recognised him, others turning to their comrades to confirm. Rhaenar rose her hand, silencing the chatter. "He has chosen to fight for me, and by doing such, it will give you a choice on whose side you wish to take." Heads flickered. "If you choose to fight for Cersei Lannister, I won't stop you, but we will be facing each other again on the field. You will be escorted to King's Landing, and you will live with your choice..."

Now it was time to sweeten the deal. "But, if you choose to fight for me, you will be trained once more beneath Tywin Lannister and you will be allowed home. We know the wars are long, and some of you have gone from war to war these past few years. You may have family you wish to see; and we will allow this." Tyrion's head whipped over, surprise in his eyes. "In doing so, you may have to fight against your brothers, men you've trained with. This won't be an easy decision for you, and it should not be taken lightly."

"Why would any of us want to fight for a Queen that doesn't care for us?" One of the soldiers uttered, turning to his brothers as his thick accent cut across the field. "What has Cersei Lannister ever done for us?"

He was met with grumbles; some in agreement, others not so much. "She's still our Queen." One of the others raised.

Rhaenar stepped forward. "Perhaps you wish to discuss this amongst yourselves?"

The first soldier turned, shaking his head as he whipped off his helmet, curls of gold slipping out. "No, I've made my choice. I'll fight for you, if you'll have me." Rhaenar's chest swelled, a sweet smile crossing her lips as she nodded eagerly. "My Queen." He gestured, bowing his head. He moved out from the ranks, making his way over to Tywin. "It's good to see you again, Uncle."