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Ned Stark

"Ned how can you let this stand! Your the heir to Winterfell, do something!"

"You think I haven't already tried?" Eddard Stark, second son of Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. And now he was heir to Winterfell. "Because the mad king Aerys murdered my brother."

In Lord Starks chambers the two brothers in everything except blood stood side by side waiting for Ned's father, Lord Stark to arrive. Robert's face was flushed red and his eyes blazed with anger glaring at anything in sight.

Ned understood his friend's anger. Lyanna was his sister and he loved her but there was nothing Robert, he or his father could do. Prince Rhaegar had taken Lyanna to be his bride. Maybe if it was concubine his father Rickard wouldn't have let it stand but Rhaegar had sent Ravens to every house in the Seven Kingdoms carrying copies of his marriage certificate.

Lyanna Stark was now Lyanna Targaryen and she was carrying Rhaegar's son. Trueborn as they had been married in secret months ago.

"If Rhaegar was still a prince my father might have been persuaded to speak against their marriage, but with Aerys dead the Prince is now king. And no lord would deny the king their daughters hand."

"She was my betrothed, Ned. My beloved."

"I know, Robert. I know. But there is nothing we can do. Lyanna will stay married to Rhaegar and Tywin Lannister has given you his daughters hand if you accept his offer."

That only enraged his friend further and Ned was forced to take a step back as Roberts mace like arms swung through the air searching for something, anything to hit.

"How can you speak of my marrying another woman so soon after Lyanna was stolen from me? She was the love of my life," Roberts energy drained and the man seemed to deflate. "I loved her with everything I had, Ned. What am I supposed to do know?"

"Your duty as Lord of Storms End," Ned said setting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just as I will do my duty as heir to Winterfell and marry Catelyn."

Robert snorted at that and a small grin sprouted on the man's face. "Marrying a woman who loves your brother? You just might have drawn the shorter stick, Ned."

Ned shook his head in mirth and relief. Robert was already joking, his friend would be alright.


Illyrio Mopatis

He was losing control. The boy was becoming too much of a problem.

Illyrio knew this though, had known it for months. Ever since Jaehaerys had a meeting with a man he met in the dungeons and two months later got a letter explaining that a man had paid part of his debt.

He didn't know who this 'man' was or what debt he owed Jaehaerys but he did know the timing corresponded with the death of the Mad King Aerys.

The king had supposedly died of natural causes or so the Maesters in Westeros believed and had believed until he sent a little bird flying to Varys. It was a betrayal, yes, but he needed to give Jaehaerys proper motivation to take the Iron Throne. The boy while studious in his studies and training always turned his back to any conversation brought up around taking the Iron Throne.

But with half of Westeros calling for his head for killing their king and the other half rallying behind the man who rid them of the mad king, the boy would have all the motivation he needed to Conquer Westeros.

Watching the boy from his balcony overlooking the courtyard he hid a grin behind his sleeves as the hired 'trainer' swung his sword faster and aimed for fatal areas. Jaehaerys acted accordingly and ended the man's life stabbing the bastard sword 'Blackfyre' into the man's chest.

"As suspected." He had made sure to hire a man that while good with steel would not be able to best Jaehaerys. He didn't want the boy dead after all, the assassin's purpose was to let Jaehaerys know that his enemies knew he was coming for their Iron Throne and he needed to begin planning now. Years in advance if he wished to conquer Westeros.


Jon Snow

"Does he believe I would fall for this farce?" Jon wiped the assailant's blood from his sword.

Behind him overlooking the courtyard that acted as his training ground, Jon knew that Illyrio was watching him from the balcony. He was sure if he turned around he would see a mask of concern on the merchant's face.

Illyrio might believe he was the one pulling the strings, manipulating Jaehaerys to one day gift him all the riches of Westeros, but Jon Snow was playing a game of his own. He despised games and machinations but as always he did not do what he wanted but what others needed of him. To save the Seven Kingdoms from falling to the White Walkers he had to play a game. It wasn't the Game of Thrones but a game none the less and he hated every second of it.

But he was winning.

Jaehaerys was the man servants looked and whispered to when no one was looking. Singing rumors and truths in his ears. The other masters and merchants beat and suppressed their slaves, Jaehaerys Blackfyre didn't have slaves. He had servants who he paid for their services and treated them right.

He hadn't done it to curry the favor of those working in his home. It was how he was raised in Winterfell. Ned Stark didn't stand for his children to raise a hand against those who made their lives easier. But he would not deny that being held in such high regard by those around him worked in his favor. Nearly every word spoken within the Walls of the home were repeated to him. He knew everything that went on and as a result, knew that Illyrio's was plotting against him. Or more accurately plotting for him.

Planning the way his life would go. All the way up until he was sitting on the Iron Throne and handing every coin in Westeros to the Magister.

"That's not my plan." Jon handed his sword off to one of the servants waiting at the door to the manse. Illyrio might want to be Master of Coin but he had no dreams of becoming King and sitting on the Iron Throne. That had never been his desire. Not when he learned of his heritage and not now. Let other fools fight for an uncomfortable chair, he had bigger things to worry about.

Monsters were moving in the North and the Wall had to be ready.

"Jon, are alright, my lord?"

Looking up as Illyrio walked towards him Jon had to fight to keep his nose from turning up at the stench of the man. Even with all the expensive perfumes, Illyrio bathed himself in the merchant still smelt like a kennel.

"He wasn't a threat, Illyrio. Be more careful in how you choose my trainers from now on." Jon said as he strode past his benefactor.

It was rude of him and back in Winterfell, his father would have scolded him for such behavior but Ned Stark was the odd man out when compared to other Lords. Most didn't have the respect the Starks did for those who worked for them. They held themselves to a higher standard to the common folk and didn't see why they should reduce themselves to respect someone they saw as below them.


Rhaegar Targaryen

"Your Grace, this man murdered your father. You can not allow this treasonous act to go unpunished."

Seated on the Iron Throne, Prince, now King, Rhaegar Targaryen stared at the bald eunuch standing in front of his throne.

Varys, the Master of Whisperers.

Rhaegar didn't like the man. The secrets he held could be withheld and or used for the man's own gain and no one would be the wiser because only Varys and his loyal birds knew such secrets. It was a dangerous power to give one man.

"Do you have proof that this, Jaehaerys Blackfyre was the one to order my father be assassinated?" Rhaegar asked and he watched as Varys tensed no doubt having never had his words questioned.

"My little birds in Essos tell me-"

"Rumors. And that is all." Rhaegar interrupted. "Where is the proof that a Blackfyre is still living? Why was this not told to me or my father years ago? Having such knowledge could have saved his life. If this, Jaehaerys is real and if he was the one responsible for my father's death. Which the Maester announced as natural."

Not that he believed that. His father was old, yes, but to die right when the Seven Kingdoms were on the edge of war? No, it was too suspicious. But King Aerys had made enough enemies to kill him a hundred times over. Who was to say the King's death was the work of a Blackfyre halfway across the world?

"Your grace, if I may-"

"No," Rhaegar held a hand up silencing the Spider. "I will hear no more on the matter until you have proof this Blackfyre orchestrated the death of my father."

Varys nodded and bowed at the waist before turning to leave the throne room.

"And Varys, I do not want this to spread," Rhaegar ordered but Varys shook his head.

"It already has my Lord. Merchants in Essos told Westerosi traders who brought the rumors across the narrow sea. I can't stop the rumors now, your grace."


Ned Stark II

"Eddard," Rickard Stark voice rumbled through the crypts below Winterfell. "You're the heir to Winterfell."

Behind his father, Ned stood stoic and silent staring at the image of his brother etched into stone. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Winterfell would one day be his to lead and he could not show weakness. He was the heir to Winterfell, he had to be strong.

Rickard nodded to the statue of his first-born one last time and turned to Eddard. "Your wedding to Catelyn Tully will happen here, at Winterfell. King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna will also be attending."

"I look forward to seeing her again," Ned said and he meant it. Some in the North may believe his sister to be the cause of their brother's death but he knew better. He had been beside Brandon when their father announced Lyanna had married Prince Rhaegar. That she had not been abducted but fled Winterfell because she fell in love.

Brandon would not accept the facts, however. His older brother had always been hot-blooded. Their father said he had the 'wolfs blood' in him just like Lyanna did.

Ned didn't know if it was worry that drove Brandon to rid to King's landing or jealousy. He wanted to believe that Brandon simply wanted to make sure his sister was happy and not being held against her will but at the same time, he knew Brandon was angry at being forced to marry Catelyn Tully. Maybe he couldn't stand that Lyanna had chosen her own husband when he could not choose his own wife and went to confront her.

"It doesn't bear thinking about." He followed his father out of the crypts. What was done was done. Brandon was gone.

"Eddard, this marriage is very important," Rickard said as the two Starks walked past the stone faces of those who came before them. "In the south, there are...disturbing rumors surfacing. A Blackfyre living in Essos. And responsible for the death of King Aerys."

"I've heard," Ned nodded. It had been the talk of Winter town. Traders from White harbor telling outlandish tales of the young Blackfyre. Executing a man before his sixth name-day, besting trained mercenaries in live steel spars and being responsible for the death of the Mad King.
"Do you believe them, father?"

"Belief does not matter, Eddard. When you are Lord Stark, Warden of the North your personal feelings do not matter. Winterfell comes first. Even if I do not believe in the rumors I still must prepare for them. That is why you are marrying Catelyn Tully. We will need allies in the event that another Blackfyre tried to take the Iron Throne."

"He would have to kill, Lyanna and Aegon." Ned frowned. His sister whether he agreed with it or not was now apart of the Targaryen dynasty. If this Jaehaerys wanted the throne he would have to end Rhaegar's line of succession. He couldn't let his sister die.


Jon Snow II

"Jaehaerys, are you sure this is wise?"

Outside Jaehaerys solar Illyrio was making one last attempt at dissuading his meal ticket from going through with his plan.

"This man, he is a smuggler. Can not be trusted."

"That remains to be seen, Illyrio. Now please, step aside. I do not wish to keep Davos waiting any longer." Jon said refusing to deviate from his course of action. If he wanted to win a war against an army of the undead he was going to need Dragon glass, and Valyrian steel. As much as he could get his hands on.

Dragonstone had an abundance of Dragon glass but mining for the glass there was out of the question. And it held no Valyrian steel, that he knew of. Maybe the Targaryens had a few stashes buried somewhere on the island but even if they did it was out of his reach.

"King Rhaegar would not let a Blackfyre set foot on the birthplace of the Targaryen dynasty." Jon pushed open the door to his solar and walked in shutting it behind him leaving Illyrio outside.

"M'Lord?"

"Davos," Jon nodded his head to the smuggler standing in front of his desk. He looked different than what he remembered. Brown hair took place of grey and the Onion Knight was a few pounds lighter than he was when Jon first met him at the Wall. Lean and weathered by the life he led.
"I am Jaehaerys Blackfyre."

Davos bowed his head but didn't kneel. Jon didn't expect him to. He was no lord, despite what Illyrio said and even bowing his head was more than he had to do.

Walking around his desk Jon pulled open the large middle drawer and reached in pulling a bag twice the size of his hand out. Tossing it to Davos he sat down at the smuggler caught the jingling bag.

Untying the string around the bag Davos opened the bag and stared at the gold guts of the cloth.

"I will pay you double what is in that bag if you sail to the Smoking Sea."

"The smoking Sea?" Davos repeated hesitantly. He was a damn fine smuggler and sailor but even he was not quick to accept a job such as this. The Smoking Sea was a place that swallowed ships whole and never let them out. Legends of the stone men who could kill you with a touch kept even the bravest of fools away.

"Yes, I seek Dragon glass and Valyrian steel. I don't care if it's weapons, cups or furniture. If it's made of either of those materials bring it to Pentos and you will be paid well."

Davos held the bag of gold up. "Double this?"

"Yes," Jon nodded.

"I...will go," Davos answered and Jon smiled. He had expected nothing else.

Davos was searching for a better life for his family. Something more than raising his son to be a smuggler, a criminal, like himself. And Jon would give it to him. Davos was one of the best men he knew. A man of honor and duty despite living a life of crime. He was an ally and more importantly a friend that Jon wanted by his side.

Without Roberts Rebellion, Davos would never become the Onion Knight and Stannis would never give him a better life for his family. Jon would take Stannis place. Allying with Davos had been part of his plan since the beginning. And East Watch by the Sea would become the Onion Knights home. A castle by the sea. It was perfect for Davos.

"M'Lord?"

Smiling Jon grabbed a letter from his desk and held it out to Davos. "Present this at the docks and the three Galleys will be yours to command along with their crews."

Exchanging the gold for the letter Davos bowed his head again before leaving the room his brown tattered cloak flying behind him.

Watching the future knight depart Jon frowned as Illyrio came into the room wearing a false frown that did little to hide the anger he felt at losing three galleys and their crew to a fool's mission.

"Yes, Illyrio?" He asked when the merchant did nothing but stand in place and waste time that he could be using to iron out his plans for the future.

"Why is Valyrian steel so important to you, my lord? We have no blacksmiths capable of forging weapons from it."

"Liar." Jon thought but didn't vocalize it. He had heard the rumors about the blacksmiths in the Free City of Qohor. And he was sure Illyrio knew of them as well. But it was fine if the man did not want to share that knowledge with the boy he was trying to manipulate.

"The last ship that sailed for kings landing. I sent a message with the captain to bring back a smith that I heard rumors about." Jon said and broke eye contact with his benefactor turning his attention to the papers on his desk. A clear dismissal.

Illyrio lips held together in a tight-lipped smile keeping all the words he wanted to throw at the arrogant little bastard inside. Bowing at his shoulders he walked backward out the door before standing straight again striding down the halls of his home.

He was going to beat a servant bloody tonight if for nothing else than to spite the young lord who cared for them.


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P.S. Marvelmyra? Get out of my head! Lol! You got it in one.