Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. Any similarities in dialogue or storyline originated the show or book.
Summary: House Nyrs has fought and died beside House Targaryen since the Doom of Valyria. After Robert's Rebellion the survivors retreated to their lands Beyond the Wall. Now, Queen Rowynn Nyrs must convince Jon Snow to abandon his vows to the Night's Watch in order to aide her in the effort to unseat the Lannisters from the Iron Throne and take back the North from the House Bolton under orders from Daenerys Targaryen. Jon/OC.
Prologue
Rowynn
The cold winter air was coated with a thin smoke, blurring the edges of the world and bringing along the smell of sweat and blood which clung to the nose like a strong perfume. The shouts and screams that echoed through the castle were accompanied by the sharp clash of swords and axes. Every surface was tainted orange, reflecting the fires that lit up the night, and the ground was splattered with crimson puddles. Just as one body would hit the floor, a wispy breath leaving their lips for the last time, another man would take his place, swinging his sword around in hopes of hitting his enemy. But the men dressed in furs were unlike those dressed in black. They were the savages of the night who learned how to survive the endless winters that forged on Beyond the Wall. The crows were just trying to outlast the invaders. They all silently hoped daylight would bring the end of this battle at Castle Black.
Amidst all the chaos one man seemed to stand out. The dark curls atop his head moved every which direction as he slid across the muddy floor, avoiding several swinging swords while landing his own fatal blows. A guttural shout acted as a battle cry for the Thenn wildling barreling through the crowd. This one seemed to be bigger than most, his head absent of hair but marked with raised scars. The dark haired man faced the wildling after running his Valyrian steel blade across another's throat. They charged at each other like two drunken men preparing to fight over the last bottle of wine and grunted as their weapons clashed. The crow wielded his sword like a trained warrior, equaling the skill of the savage who sought to end his life that very night. It wasn't until the Thenn wildling caught the Valyrian sword in the nook of his axe that the battle seemed to be in even contest. When the larger man swung his axe back, it sent the sword flying into a puddle a few feet away. The long blade was evidently made of Valyrian steel and was met with a unique hilt. The silver crossguard transferred into simple black grip, but the part that would catch any eye was the pommel. It had been carefully crafted into the shape of a wolf's head from pale stone.
As the Thenn and man in black continued to fight the odds started to tip in the direction of the wildling. Without his sword the man of the Night's Watch did not have an appropriate means of protection. He was quick enough to avoid the swinging axe and finally found his way to a long iron chain. He managed to knock the axe out of the Thenn's hands causing their duel to devolve into a brutal hand-to-hand combat. There was a crunching sound as the wildling smashed the crow's face into an anvil. The younger man was yanked back roughly as he gasped for a clear breath and thrown into the blacksmith's forge. He rolled through the fire and landed on the other side with a grunt. The Thenn picked up the man in black effortlessly and held him against a wooden pillar as his strong hands tightened around his neck, strangling his contender. The younger man spit the blood that had welled up in his mouth at the wildling. This distracted him long enough for the crow to grab the blacksmith's hammer lying next to him and bury it into the Thenn's head. His eyes rolled back into his head as the blood began to pour out of the hole down the sides of his face. A second passed and he fell to the floor dead.
Rowynn shot up from the bed, gasping for her breath. With her head still reeling from the memory-like dream she held out her hands in front of her. Her lips formed a tight line as she blinked through the darkness encasing her bedchambers. When she saw that her hands were shaking, she knew that her dream was all but what it seemed. She had been told enough about the bastard known as Jon Snow to conclude it was him who had won the fight against the Thenn. She did not know if this battle had yet to happen or had already passed, but she had been having these types of prophetic dreams long enough to know that it would soon become a part of history.
"Caen!" She shouted, knowing her cries would be heard through the thick wooden door.
"Rowynn?" The burly man questioned as he came stumbling into the room, his sword drawn.
"Put that away, and send notice to the Men of the Mountain, the Queen's Guard, the Wardens, and the forest clans at once," the young Queen of Bellaronia instructed as she lit a candle. "We ride for The Wall tonight."
"Rowynn…" Her trusted knight's expression faltered as she lit a few candles, the shadows falling on his face. It appeared to highlight the scar on the right side of his face that extended from just above his eyebrow and stretched down over his upper lip. His shoulder length dark blonde hair and muscular build would allow anybody to believe he was a cruel man if they were told so. But Rowynn had grown up under the protection of Ser Caen Maening and had come to think of him as a trusted knight and a member of her extended family.
"We ride tonight," Rowynn repeated her command. She turned her head towards him as she dropped her legs over the side of her bed. "Go, Ser Caen."
"Yes, Your Grace," He bowed stiffly before disappearing from the room just as quickly as he had entered.
The young royal knew she should have sent for her Ladies in White so they could assist her in preparation for her ride, but there was no time to obey tradition. Rowynn fetched her riding gear and armor, pulling them on with little difficulty. She was fastening the last set of clasps when her door opened without a knock.
She turned and saw that it was her brother Jaymes. While he bore the surname Winter, the name that custom decreed be given to all those Beyond the Wall unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own, she still thought of him as her brother by blood. It was hard to overlook their one obvious similarity; their silver hair derived from the blood of the dragon. Her own lilac eyes avoided his deep blue ones as he looked her over. She already guessed what he would say about her plans, but she had to dismiss his opinions.
"You cannot do this, Rowynn," Jaymes paused, "we have avoided these wars for too long just to be dragged into it because a band of wildlings decided to try their luck and breach The Wall."
Rowynn turned to him. "If the wildlings take Castle Black there will nothing to stop them from rolling over everything and everyone for a thousand miles. And have you forgotten? We entered this war the day I sent Raegnar to rid the Seven Kingdoms of King Joffrey and retrieve Lady Sansa."
"I do not understand. You have never given a second thought to what happens to the Seven Kingdoms, and then you take up a sudden interest in everything Below the Wall. What is fueling this sparked fire inside of you?" Jaymes pressed with cautious eyes. He watched his maiden sister while an extended silence encased the room. Her silvery hair shone in like a beacon in the night as she began to braid it loosely over her slender shoulders. Her violet eyes seemed to graze every surface before meeting his own again.
"Jon Snow," Rowynn said just above a whisper. "Does that name mean anything to you?"
"The bastard of The North," Jaymes nodded. "He is now the eldest son of the deceased Lord Eddard Stark."
"He will be at Castle Black fighting the wildling army amongst his brothers in black," Rowynn told her brother as she let her hair go unfinished. "I cannot let him die when I know I could have prevented it."
"This is because of your visit to Meereen, is it not?" Jaymes asked softly as he ran a hand over his short silver hair.
"Jon Snow, if rightfully matched, will be the key to the North. Daenerys needs the key on her side if she is to regain the Seven Kingdoms," Rowynn said.
"This is her war, not ours," Jaymes argued.
"Her family's wars and our family's wars have been one in the same since the Doom of Valyria," the young queen reminded her brother. "I am not going to be the one to break that bond."
"Our ancestors desire to rush to the Targaryen's side have cost us greatly throughout history, and we have just raised the strength and power that would allow us to regain our once influential status in the Seven Kingdoms," Jaymes said.
"An influential status in the Seven Kingdoms means nothing if we cannot live under the rightful King or Queen," Rowynn turned her back to her brother as she pulled on her fingerless gloves. "We have to restore the Targaryens to the Iron Throne and in order for that to happen we need to stand behind Daenerys Targaryen and do whatever she asks."
"And she asked you to keep the Northern bastard under your protection?"
"No, she asked for more than that," Rowynn swallowed dryly as Jaymes narrowed his blue eyes. "She requested I offer my hand in marriage to him."
Jaymes dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword, a telltale sign of his shift to defense. "You denied this request, did you not?"
"I told her that I would think long and hard before deciding my fate," Rowynn admitted.
"But it is not just your fate you would be deciding, it would be the fate of all of Bellaronia," Jaymes said. "You marry Jon Snow, and you'll be giving the crown to the son of a long time enemy."
"Nothing is set in stone, Jaymes," said his sister. "Jon would still have to decide to abandon his oath to the Night's Watch in order to accept my offer."
"Have his siblings agreed to this?" Jaymes paused with a sigh, "because if he marries you, he will abandon his bastard surname and take up the name of the rest of his family, placing him above all else in the line of succession. He will not just have the title of King of Bellaronia, but also Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of The North."
"It appears that the only thing they truly desire is vengeance for what happened to their parents and eldest brother," Rowynn replied. "They want those lands back in the hands of their family, no matter who heads it."
"What if Jon does not wish to abandon his oath at the Wall? How would we acquire the key to the North then?"
"Bran is fourteen," Rowynn led on with a downcast gaze. "In two years time, he will be old enough to marry."
"You wish to marry Bran Stark?" Jaymes shifted his weight as he crossed his arms over his sturdy chest. "Do you think he is fit to rule by your side?"
"He has a stronger heart than men twice his age," Rowynn argued in defense of the young boy she had come to know. "He's fit to do whatever he wishes, but even if he chooses to marry someone else, or cast aside his spot in the line of succession, we still have Sansa."
"True. I think it is safe to say she has taken a liking to Elyjah, much more than she would have a few months ago." Jaymes cocked his head to the side as he hinted to the fact that his bastard cousin, Elyjah, had been legitimized before him.
"You will ride with me to the Wall, Jaymes, and when we return I will sign the legitimization papers so you can officially join the Queen's Guard as Jaymes Nyrs," his sister promised. As the Queen of Bellaronia, she was one of the only people who could legitimize her bastard relatives. She had been working to give all four bastards the family name during the year she had been ruling as queen, but many nobles in their court did not approve.
She abandoned his gaze and walked to the wooden trunk at the end of her bed. Jaymes watched as Rowynn lifted the lid, and pulled out a long sword and two matching daggers. Jaymes had always admired the three weapons for they were some of the few in Avalon made with Valyrian steel. He had a Valyrian sword of his own, but it was not as grand as Rowynn's, and hers had been passed down from the heads of House Nyrs for hundreds of years. The one similarity that transferred over to almost every weapon used in Bellaronia was the Valyrian phrase Simonarior hen nuqirs which translated into the words of House Nyrs: Rising from the Ashes.
"I just have one more question, my lady," Jaymes smiled faintly when Rowynn slid a glance over her shoulder. "What about Rybek and Matthias?"
"Matthias accompanied me to Meereen. He's known about Jon since the beginning," Rowynn said with a heavy heart. "I still have to look forward to telling Rybek."
Her older brother came up beside her, closing the distance between them. He placed a light hand on her shoulder, and she faced him reluctantly. The corner of his lips turned upward into a small smile. "While your duty may be to Bellaronia, you should still weigh in the desires of your heart."
"Dear brother," Rowynn whispered as she cupped one side of his face gingerly. "The truest desire in my heart is to do what is best for my kingdom and for my family. Maintaining our alliance with the Targaryen queen will provide the best future for everyone."
"Of course, Your Grace," Jaymes' smile widened. He placed his own hand over his sisters' and gave it a light squeeze as he lowered it for her. "If you will excuse me I need to prepare our horses."
"Before you do that, can you send for Lady Arya, please?" Rowynn requested. "I need to speak with her before we leave."
"At this hour she must be sleeping," her brother hesitated.
"Wake her," she insisted. "Our spies at Winterfell spoke well of her relationship with Jon. If he were to need an incentive to return with me, I assume the presence of his siblings here at Castle Nightfire will be enough," Rowynn explained quietly. Her eyes lit up for a moment as if a memory had returned to her. "Oh, and release Bhaen. I will need him in the air just in case."
"Of course, Your Grace," Jaymes bowed. He flashed a smile before turning to leave.
"Jaymes," Rowynn stopped him. When he faced her, she offered a whisper of a smile. "Thank you."
Her brother bowed slightly with a smile on his lips and left without another word. Rowynn knew that Jaymes would do what she ordered in a swift manner because they had not only a deep familial bond but a mutual respect for each other despite their differences in status.
Rowynn had just finished braiding her silver hair when Arya appeared at her door. The younger girl's features were heavy with tiredness as she entered the queen's bedchambers. Rowynn was quick to explain what she had seen in her insightful dream. The young queen had proven her abilities to be dependable in the first few days after the last Stark, Sansa, had arrived at Castle Nightfire so Arya was not hesitant to believe her this night. They both decided it would be best if she rode to the Wall with the queen's army.
"My apologies for interrupting, Your Grace," said Ser Caen as he entered the queen's room. He came to stand a few feet away from the two girls and clasped his hands together behind his back. Rowynn gave him an affirmative nod, ushering him to proceed. His green eyes flickered to Lady Arya for a second before clearing his throat. "The Men of the Mountain and the Free Folk clans have just relayed a message."
"And?" Rowynn led on.
"They are assembling their men to ride tonight, but there was also news of something more concerning," Ser Caen hesitated.
"What is it, Caen?" Rowynn stepped towards the tall knight.
"The Free Folk have reported that the King Beyond the Wall intends to light a large fire the night of their attack to signal their allies on the south side of the Wall," Ser Caen said.
Rowynn could not hold back a scoff. "So the battle has not occurred yet?"
"No, Your Grace," he shook his head.
"How big did they say this fire was going to be?"
"His army says that it will be the biggest fire the North has ever seen," Ser Caen told her.
"They do not know what a real fire is," Rowynn scoffed. She pressed her lips into a taught line as she tucked a piece of her silver hair behind her ear. "How long do we have until sunrise?"
"A few hours, Your Grace, but we will have to ride all day and all night to get to the Wall. That is including the water and feeding breaks needed for the men and horses."
"Then the sooner we leave the better. And instruct my brother to release Syndor as well," Rowynn paused as a small smile appeared on her lips, "we might have to show those wildlings what a real fire looks like."
"We might, Your Grace," her knight agreed. He bowed quickly before leaving the two highborn girls alone once again.
"Dress as comfortably as you can, Arya," Rowynn instructed with a softness in her eyes. "This journey will not be easy, even for an experienced rider."
"Yes, Your Grace," said Lady Arya.
"Please, it is just Rowynn for you," insisted the queen quickly. "Ser Caen has always been allowed to just use my given name, but he often resorts back to the official greeting amongst company."
"Your court is unlike anything I have ever seen," Arya smiled lightly.
The younger girl left after saying a quick goodbye and Rowynn gave herself one last look over in the tall mirror on one of the walls. She sighed heavily when she saw the girl staring back at her. She ran her fingers over the loose strands of silver hair lying over her shoulders. She had debated darkening the color several times over to relinquish the burden of being one of the few remaining Valyrian descendants, but she knew it would do more harm than good. Her heritage had become the most important weapon in her artillery. Her family was nearly distinguished during Robert's Rebellion and the conflicts that occurred Beyond the Wall, but they were finally fulfilling their house words. They were rising from the ashes and they were going to take back what belonged to them with fire and blood.
This is my first Game of Thrones fanfiction. Sorry for any mistakes. Please let me know if you liked this because I don't know if or when I'll update.