The Andals VIII: You know nothing, Jon Snow.
A/N: Hey there guys, Wildfurion back with another extra chapter of the Andals. So…yeah, the last two chapters were a bit polemical, to say the least.
Since this story's coming up with some nasty surprises, I decided to add some more to the salad because…well, it's me. I'm quite tired today, since my GF came over and I had to clean the house before and stuff…so my note won't be as long as usual. I'll be replying to some of your reviews now.
-alec-potter: Happy you liked the story so far, the Andals follows a more realistic line in ASOIAF- much like the books I've been reading recently. And yes, Artys is pretty much handicapped by his disease and frail condition, and that happens because he's product of centuries of Arryn inbreeding. About Jon, there's a bit more of him in this very chapter. Hope you like it. Cersei, on the other hand, comes up in the next.
-JimmyHall24: Not as much as I do, lol.
-Thunderbird29: I'll be revealing more of him in this very chapter. But yeah, Artys' smart- but he's on the same level as Tyrion, nothing more. IDK if you noticed, but the characters' perspective on him is much different than his own- they see him as some sort of cold, calculating mastermind, while the Vale sees him as the very sun. Artys, on the other hand, knows who he really is- but does little to correct the others' views.
-Shrednector15: Thx, and yeah…I made him paired up with Arya because some idiot came complaining my MC was homosexual. The idea on chapter V wasn't that, but some people can't seem to stand some cold, blunt Realism. About the true romance, we'll be seeing more in the future…this story was planned as unpredictable. And Elaena was added because I absolutely LOVE Elaena as a character.
Wildfurion
"Oh. You know nothing, Jon Snow."—Ygritte
The Andals VIII: You know nothing, Jon Snow.
-{Jon}-
Winterfell, the North, 298 AC.
Ever since the meeting at Artys Arryn's chambers, three days before, the young Lord of the Eyre seemed to have taken a queer interest in Jon.
The Bastard of Winterfell wouldn't be lying if he said the auburn-haired man didn't scare him. Though he was very kind to Arya, Jon's precious little sister, Artys' sky blue eyes still were almost completely devoid of emotion- cold, calculating and implacable…
"Jon Snow." He hears a man calling, and turns to see two of the Winged Knights- recognizable by their silver plate armors and long, blue cloaks depicting the Arryn sigil. This one is an old, bull-like Valeman, whose eyes stare at him in disgust. It didn't take long for Jon to decide he did not like the man. "The lord Arryn summons you. Would you mind accompanying us?"
Noticing the curious looks of the servants of the castle, Jon lets out a resigned sigh- taking note to continue with his tasks later- before giving the man a silent nod. The two Knights escort him down the hallways of Winterfell to the Library Tower, where the young Warden of the East waits for him with a book at hand.
"Lord Arryn." He greets with a polite bow, making the slightly older boy rise his glance to meet his eye.
"Jon." Putting the thick tome aside, Artys rises up from his couched seat by the fire and walks towards him. His gold and silver Dragon egg lies on the small round table by his chair, together with a goblet of what seems to be hot, spiced wine. "I'm glad you came."
For some minutes, both boys stay silent. The mysterious Arryn openly stares at him with his long, pale fingers supporting his chin- as if he were studying Jon's facial lines. The younger boy was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable with his situation, before the auburn-haired lord finally speaks up.
"Leave. Make sure no one disturbs us." He orders the guards, who give him respectful nods before turning to leave the library. Only after the sounds of their metallic boots hitting the wooden boards of the floor finally dies, does he speak again. "You're a very handsome man, Jon Snow…"
The shiver that runs up Jon's spine was like nothing he'd felt before. The Lord of the Eyre is smiling at him, a sly, playful smile. 'It can't be…' Artys couldn't be this type of man…could he? No, that's impossible- he's never shown any interest on Robb or Theon, at least not that he could see…
"In fact, you're way too handsome. It makes me feel uncomfortable." And then, in the blink of an eye, the older Arryn is back to his usual calm and serene demeanor. No trace of the previous smile left in his red lips. "Tell me, Snow…"
A long index traces circles in the rough, red wood of the table. "Do you know who your mother is?"
"I-I don't know, my lord." The younger boy replies with a nod, doing his best to avoid that implacable gaze. "My father never told me, and…"
"They say it was Ashara Dayne, of Starfall, rumored to be one of the most beautiful women in Westeros." Artys then scoops the Dragon egg into his arm, hugging the beautiful thing tight to his chest before he continues. "People say your father, the honorable Ned Stark, took her as lover during the Rebellion. That they shared a night of passion, during which you were conceived…"
"I…I never knew, Lord Arryn…"
"Of course you didn't. Lord Stark would never admit this." In a swift, gracious movement, Artys hands him the scaly egg. Somewhat hesitantly, Jon takes the heavy stone into his arms- almost immediately feeling the warmth it seemed to irradiate from its core. Almost as if the dead Dragon inside was about to hatch. "You can feel it, can't you?"
"Feel what, Lord Arryn?" The black-haired bastard inquires with a cocked brow. Like his father, Ned Stark, Jon wasn't one to enjoy mind games, and he was starting to think the auburn-haired boy was just toying with him.
"The fire…even after hundreds of years, you can still feel the heat emanating from my Dragon egg…" his bony hand cups Jon's chin, lifting the younger boy's gaze to meet his. Artys' eyes are like hollow ponds of dark- almost violet- sapphire, contrasting deep with his pale, milky skin. "I saw your future in my dreams, Jon…you are more than many eyes can see, much, much more…you'll be the third head of the Dragon. Daoruni gīmī, Ionos Sōnaro, Kivio Dārilaros."
"I don't understand it, lord Arryn. What did you say?" Third head? Dreams? Dragons? Confused was a euphemism to describe Jon Snow's mind at the moment. What did the older man mean by calling him that? Was that the reason of his sudden interest on him?
"I said…" the lord of the Vale then steps back, snatching the precious egg from Jon's hand and suavely placing it back on the table. With a snap of his fingers, the two Knights that escorted him there walk back in. In the dim light of Winterfell's library, Artys is like the ghost of a Targaryen King of old, a man above all humans, a Dragonlord.
"You know nothing, Jon Snow."
Chapter End.
A/N: So…Dragon Dreams? Tadaa, surprise!
Don't forget to Follow and review, since those show me you're liking my work so far. That's it for today…I guess. Till next time, Papa's out.
Listening to: The Last Night- Skillet.
Doing: Lazing around.
Status: Sleepy.
Wildfurion.
