A/N Thanks to the lovely Vlad for the beta work! :) And thank you to all my wonderful readers!
Chapter 10
Daenerys still waited for word from Yunkai, but as the hours crept by, she felt exhaustion wash over her in waves. She closed her eyes, just for a few moments, trying to settle her thoughts. The night had been stressful, first in waiting for word from Ser Jorah and her armies, and then with the arrival of the man who claimed to be Aegon. She knew that Ser Barristan spoke what he believed to be the truth about Jon Connington and Aegon. But Dany could not trust so easily. She had learned her lesson about that.
A noise interrupted her thoughts and she glanced around her pavilion. All of her dragons slept nearby, so she knew there was no threat. But she was surprised to find the mysterious Quaithe emerging from the shadows. Startled, she demanded, "How did you pass my guards?"
"They cannot see what is not there."
"Then I am dreaming? Like when I saw you on the ship from Qarth?"
"No, you did not dream then or now." Quaithe waved her hand in dismissal. The woman took a step toward her, her red lacquer mask clicking as she moved. "Listen to me, Daenerys Targaryen. You must remember what you learned in the House of the Undying. There are three heads of the dragons… three fires must you light... one for life and one for death and one to love... three mounts must you ride... one to bed and one to dread and one to love... three treasons will you know... once for blood and once for gold and once for love…"
"I'm too tired for riddles," Dany sighed. "Is Griff my nephew? Is he the second dragon?"
"You know the answer. But you must not bind yourself to this one, Daenerys Stormborn. Find the third dragon."
"A third?" Daenerys was skeptical. "And where shall I find him?"
"Among the wolves. Trust them, for only the Winged Wolf completes the Song of Ice and Fire." Quaithe's voice softened. "Remember who you are, Daenerys. The dragons know. The wolves will, too - in time. Do you?"
Daenerys shook her head in exasperation, the bells she wore in her hair ringing softly with every movement. "Nothing you say makes sense. How do I know I can trust you?"
"You do not. Your dragons trust me," Quaithe said. To prove her point she walked over to where Drogon slept. At first Daenerys thought the dragon didn't move because Quaithe was only a vision but then Drogon raised his head and looked intently at Quaithe. His massive wings fluttered out and he took flight around the woman before landing in front of her again, bowing his head for her to touch him. Drogon behaved that way for no one other than Dany and, at first, a flare of jealousy filled her.
Eventually, she asked, "What shall I do?"
"Decide."
"But how will I know this third dragon?" Daenerys asked.
"He will come to you with a white shadow and then your white dragon will leave you. You must lose one dragon to gain another." Quaithe's voice sounded softer and Dany had to strain to hear her. "Be wary, but do not test the third and do not make him your enemy."
"You already warned me of three treasons: once for blood and once for gold and once for love. Mirri Maz Duur betrayed me for blood. How do I know if this man will betray me for love?" The camp grew louder and she rose to walk to the flaps of the tent, peeking outside.
Daenerys received no answer and she knew without turning around that she was alone in the tent with only her dragons now. Quaithe's messages made her head spin. A third dragon? Quaithe was telling her to trust Robb and Ned Stark, clearly. But was Robb Stark or Ned Stark the Winged Wolf? And could she ever sacrifice a dragon for any man? Quaithe had made it sound like she had no choice; Viserion would leave on his own or worse: perhaps he would die. She walked over to her dragons and Rhaegal turned his head to observe her. As soon as violet eyes met bronze ones, Daenerys saw her brother Rhaegar reflected in them as he fell on the Trident. The last word he spoke was 'Lyanna' and Dany thought she knew the answer to the question of the third dragon: Could Rhaegar have...? No, it couldn't be...another son, a son with Lyanna Stark?
Tears filled her eyes suddenly, her mind turning over the fact that she might no longer be alone. She may have two nephews. She did not know how to feel about Rhaegar's son by Lyanna. Their love sparked the war and downfall of the Targaryen three-hundred year dynasty, the loss of her father, her brother, and his children by Elia Martell, his true princess, not to mention forcing Daenerys and Viserys to live a life in exile. But was her brother more at fault for this than Daenerys wanted to accept?
If Rhaegar knew Elia could not provide him with a third and final heir, was he willing to do whatever it took to fulfill the prophecy, even if that meant stealing a young woman from her family and her betrothed? Even if love was the reason he took her or why she ran away with him, Rhaegar had to know there would be repercussions.
He will not trust you, nor will he love you at first. Rhaegar's second son may hate Daenerys because she was the daughter of Aerys, the man that murdered his grandfather and uncle. Or he will hate that he is the son of Rhaegar if people truly believed he kidnapped Lyanna Stark. What had Ned Stark told him of his birth? He has always been apart from the others because he is living a lie.
Daenerys felt a strange bond to this man already. Had she not lived her life apart from others? Her only companion for years was Viserys who grew more desperate and mad each day.
"Khaleesi?" she heard Missandei call her from outside her tent. She entered upon Dany's command, a wide smile on her face. "The men have returned victorious! The city is yours."
Daenerys nodded. "I must prepare to meet this man who claims to be my nephew. Bring me bath water."
After the servant left her, she trailed her hand down Rhaegal's back absentmindedly, trying to shake the anticipation of knowing she was returning home, not just to claim the throne, but to find her other nephew, the man who should have been the rightful king upon the death of Aegon. Ned Stark had taken him away from his sister's arms and forced him to live the life of a bastard. Why ever would he have done that when the boy would have been a king? Had Ned Stark raised him as his son or treated him like an outcast and enemy? Did he hate the Targaryens so much that he'd rather make the babe a bastard than admit he was Rhaegar's son?
"Ser Barristan?" she called. The old knight entered the tent quickly. She had known he wouldn't be far away. "What is the name of Ned Stark's bastard son and how old is he?"
"I believe he was named after Lord Stark's foster father, Jon Arryn. Being from the north, his name would be Snow, unless he took the surname of his mother's lands. He's close in age to his eldest son," Ser Barristan answered with a quizzical expression.
"Thank you, ser." She waited until he had gone back outside before she whispered into the night, "Jon Snow, who are you?"
x-x-x
Gendry watched with envy as Queen Margaery bantered playfully with her brother. He had never had a family and hadn't realized what he was missing until spending time with Arya and Lord Stark and now the Tyrell siblings. Arya talked about her brothers and sister with fondness, even if she was complaining about Sansa's primness or Bran's pestering. And the sun rose and set on Jon Snow, bastard or not, to hear Arya tell it. Gendry suspected he would have liked a little sister like that, maybe even more than he would have liked to know his father.
"You're quiet tonight," Renly pointed out, signaling one of the servants to pour them both some more ale. "Are you troubled?"
"I was merely thinking, Your Grace…" Gendry began picking at the threading of his doublet. He had never worn clothes so fine. The queen had ordered a few outfits made for him in such rich material that Gendry felt like a child was playing dress-up. But even when he was a child, he'd never played games where he was anything other than what he was: a lowborn bastard. And no matter how many people knew he was the late King Robert's son, Gendry felt more out of place among King Renly and his court than he ever had with people such as the Night's Watch recruits.
"I told you to call me Uncle when we were alone," Renly admonished him gently. "Tell me what your thoughts are this fine evening."
Gendry studied his ale for a brief moment before clearing his throat. "Well, I mean no disrespect but I don't understand why my father's death caused so much confusion over the throne. He has two sons. It makes sense that his oldest son is the king now. Yet the queen regent sent men to kill me, a bastard with no claim, and you and your brother are fighting for the crown as well."
Loras and the queen came and sat down with them. The queen looked at him for a long moment until Gendry felt his ears burning. He was not used to a beautiful highborn woman paying attention to him. But her look was sympathetic and she said to Renly, "Husband, Gendry deserves to know the truth from you, rather than someone else."
"Of course, beloved," Renly said with a weary sigh. "Have you heard of Ser Jaime Lannister, the Cersei Lannister's twin brother?"
"Yes. Even at Tobho Mott's shop, they said he was the best swordsman in Westeros," Gendry admitted.
"One of the best…" Loras corrected him with a knowing smile.
"Hush," Margaery said, slapping her brother's knuckles.
"As I was saying," Renly's voice rose a bit to draw the attention back to him. "My brother's wife had three children but none of them are Robert's. They are all bastard children of Ser Jaime Lannister. Lord Arryn died suspiciously. Surely you remember Lord Aaryn, the first man who sought you out."
"That's when the Starks became involved," Loras added, leaning forward to make it sound very dark and melodramatic. "Their son, Bran, fell mysteriously and almost died."
"Yes, Arry…I mean, Lady Arya told me about her brother. But what does her brother's fall have to do with the king and queen?"
"While he was in a coma, some catspaw in rags attempted to murder him in his bed using a Valyrian steel dagger. As a blacksmith, you know the rarity of Valyrian steel weapons. Very strange belonging to such a poor fellow, isn't it?" Loras answered.
"When Lord Stark investigated what Lord Arryn had found, he discovered you and the truth. All of the royal heirs were products of incest. Lord Stark, in misguided mercy, warned the queen to leave King's Landing. But then Robert was wounded on our hunt, no doubt as a result of Cersei's plotting, and he died before he ever knew the truth. Her son had Lord Stark arrested for saying he had no claim to the throne. "
"So this king… Joffrey… is not my brother at all? His parents are brother and sister?" Gendry could not keep the shock and disgust out of his voice. He had been told that Targaryens married brother to sister but this was the first time he had heard of it in another house. "Do many high-borns allow brothers and sisters to…" Gendry glanced at the queen and stumbled for the proper way to say it.
Luckily, Loras spared him the embarrassment and answered, "It's considered an affront to the Seven. But so are bastards and gambling so I wouldn't say that's the real reason why most families do not approve of such behavior." He glanced at his sister for a moment struggling to find the right words.
The queen shook her head and said, "What the Cersei and Jaime Lannister did was unnatural."
Gendry nodded, understanding despite having had no family. Until he met Arya, he'd never confided anything to anyone. But she wasn't his sister. She had three real brothers and one half brother. What would she need with another bastard? Gendry reminded himself that no matter who his father was, he was still no more than that.
"Lord Stark confessed to treason to protect his daughters," Renly continued, staring at his cup, deep in thought. "Then Cersei killed every one of Robert's bastards that she could find. Edric Storm, Mya Stone, and you are the only ones who remain of my brother's many children."
"And Lord Stannis is your older brother?" Gendry asked.
"Yes, my brother is his true heir. But Stannis would be a horrible king," Renly said sharply, then seemed to remember himself, softening the edge to his voice. "If you knew Stannis, you'd understand. He is miserable with his lot in life and has always envied me because Robert made me Lord of Storm's End. I have no doubt that if Robert lived long enough to discover the truth about Joffrey and Tommen, he would have chosen me over Stannis as his heir."
"Of course he would," Margaery said, reaching out and taking the king's hand. "You were always his favorite."
Gendry remained quiet for a few moments, trying to hold back the anger he felt. At last he spat out, "What was he like? I mean no disrespect to you, but all I hear about him is how he slay Rhaegar Targaryen, then he drank and whored around the whole time he was king. It seems that the greatest thing he did was many years ago but in the end, he was nothing but a drunken fool. I do not understand why my mother would shame herself for this man."
The tent grew very quiet as the other three looked at each other. Flushing hotly, Gendry stood to leave, feeling ashamed for his outburst. The queen rose as well but before Gendry could speak, Margaery turned to Loras and asked, "Brother, would you walk me to my tent? I wish to retire and I think the king would like to spend some more time with his nephew."
Margaery kissed Renly on the cheek and graced Gendry with a smile as she left, followed by Loras. Renly sat staring at his goblet in silence.
"Forgive me, Your Grace…"
"Uncle," Renly reminded him with a smile. "Do not apologize. I barely remember my own parents so I understand how you feel. In the end, Robert was a drunk who cared more about whoring than running his kingdom. He enjoyed hunting and watching tournaments more than he cared for listening to troubles of his people. Was he a great king? No, absolutely not. But there was something about Robert, something that I see small glimpses of in you."
Gendry couldn't believe that was possible. "What?"
"He was brave and fierce and larger than life at one time, with his powerful war hammer and stories of the war. But that wasn't the quality that drew people to him. He was charming, even as a child from what that I've heard. Everyone at Storm's End was completely devoted to Robert. When I was just a boy, he'd visit and he'd toss me in the air as high as he could but I knew he'd catch me and I never was afraid. He'd take me riding and challenge me to jump high hedges and race him to the cliffs above the sea. Robert would charm the kitchen maids to give us special treats or he'd sneak me a cup of wine, even though I was only a boy. Maester Cressen taught me my lessons and Stannis spent his time with me reminding me of the duties of managing Storm's End, even when I was too young to care. But Stannis never took pleasure in anything and Robert took pleasure everywhere he could find it. He protected me but he still showed me how to be brave and find enjoyment in life." Renly smiled at Gendry. "He taught me to laugh."
Gendry remained quiet as he thought about Robert. Finally he asked, "But how am I like him?"
"I've seen you with the younger boys, the recruits from the Night's Watch. You never seem the least bit afraid, which aids their courage. You've protected Arya Stark as well. But I see a lot of myself in you: the pride in your skills and that desire to find something that's all your own," Renly leaned forward and grasped his arm. "Robert would be proud of you. I don't know if that matters much to you but he'd be pleased at the man you've become."
"Thank you, Your… Uncle. I'm grateful for everything you, the queen, and Ser Loras have done for me. The clothes, the armor, and the horse… I've never owned anything so fine I only hope one day I will amount to something and repay you by being of some use," Gendry said, feeling overwhelmed by Renly's kindness.
Renly laughed aloud and stood, clapping his hand over Gendry's shoulder. "Nonsense! This is what family is for. It's good to know that I have another small part of Robert." A shadow passed over his face. "My brother was many things, perhaps more bad than good, but I loved him. And when you meet Edric, you'll also have a brother. Perhaps it's not a proper family…"
"It's more than I've ever had before," Gendry reminded him.
x-x-x
Catelyn shook Ned awake roughly. "Ned. Ned!"
"What is it?" he said, sitting up immediately, looked first at her then at Arya's cot.
"You were calling out in your sleep," she whispered, concern crossing her face. "For Lyanna. Then you said he wasn't dragon spawn and you kept saying you promise. Who were you talking about, Ned? Who isn't dragon spawn? And what promise did you make so long ago that disturbs your sleep even now?"
Ned was soaked with sweat and threw the covers off as he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands. He didn't remember his nightmare tonight, though he wasn't surprised that it was about his sister. It wasn't the first time he'd had nightmares about her dying in his arms. Even in the black cells, he had dreamed of Lyanna and his promise.
"My lady…my guilt keeps me from sleep," he admitted, not turning to face her. He spoke softly for fear of Arya waking. "For in this war, I do not know what will happen to me and, if I die before I put things to right, I will have wronged the ones that I love."
His admission was met with silence and he turned around to find Catelyn staring at the tent above them, her eyes looking as if she was trying to force back tears. "What is it?" he asked quietly, running his fingers through her hair.
"You've speaking of the war as if I might lose you and I've only just had you returned," she replied, looking up at him with her blue eyes, eyes so beautiful he wished to never see tears in them again.
"Cat…" He needed to tell her the truth, before it was too late. "I have to tell you some things and I fear you might not ever forgive me."
"This is about him isn't it?" Her eyes turned away from his and her mouth tightened. "About his mother, this woman you shamed me with."
Ned sighed and looked straight ahead, gathering his courage. He'd rather face a hundred men on the battlefield that hurt his wife with his betrayal. "I must tell you the truth. If anything happens to me, you need to tell Jon…"
"You're more concerned that your bastard know who his mother is than you are about my feelings?" The venom in her voice shot straight to his heart. He'd done a disservice to her and Jon both by not telling them the truth long ago, but if anyone else had found out... Even now, he dreaded the danger to his family. As he tried to decide the wording, she shocked him with her accusation. "His mother is Ashara Dayne, is it not? I've heard the rumors…"
"No!" Ned gasped out. "No, Cat. It's not Ashara Dayne. I never…we never…no, my lady…Ashara Dayne was merely a friend. I barely knew her before the war. We danced once at Harrenhal. After the war, she helped me with Jon, finding him a wet nurse and helping me prepare to travel North with an infant so small. Lady Ashara…she lost much during the war. Her most cherished friend, then her brother, and by my hand... Her kindness was nearly unbearable after that. I do not know how to say more without hurting you, Cat."
She quoted his own words back to him. "It is better to cut off a man's head than allow him to slowly bleed to death of a thousand wounds."
Ned nodded, knowing it was time. He took a deep breath and stumbled on. "Ashara Dayne's daughter died within days of her birth and Ashara was overwhelmed with grief. They say she threw herself from the tower into the sea…"
Confusion set in Catelyn's face and she turned to him. "Why would her child's death hurt me? Unless you are saying that her daughter was another one of your bastards?"
"No!" Ned exclaimed a little too loudly. Catelyn grabbed his arm as both of them silently watched Arya for any signs of her waking up. After confirming she still slept, Ned rushed on. "Ashara Dayne was never my lover. Never. Her daughter was not my bastard. Her daughter was my niece."
Catelyn stared at him in confusion for a long time while Ned allowed her to piece together what that meant. Suddenly, she whispered, "Brandon."
"Yes. Ashara loved him even though he was betrothed to you. I wish I could explain why Brandon allowed it to go so far but I don't know. He only told me after she was with child." He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. All of the feelings from that time in his life came rushing back. "Bastards are not as reviled in Dorne as they are in the rest of Westeros, so Ashara meant to raise his daughter alone. She loved Brandon and was forced to watch him die. After he was murdered, Princess Elia sent her back to Starfall, fearing what would happen if the king ever learned whose child she carried. That was why Ashara helped me care for Jon, because he reminded her so much of her daughter." Ned felt the tears on his face as his throat tightened. "She was a beautiful babe, Cat. Her name was Elia Dawn. But her look was all Stark, except for the violet eyes of her mother."
"You were with her with she had her child?" Catelyn's voice was cold and distant, completely monotone, like she felt nothing, betraying neither anger nor pain.
"She gave birth to the babe the day after I arrived. I couldn't leave her knowing that the child was Brandon's. Forgive me if that hurts you but…"
"No, of course not." She laughed bitterly. "I was your wife and had just given birth to your son and heir. Of course you should have stayed with Ashara Dayne. After all, you had so much in common. You both had bastard children, you both loved Brandon... Men of honor stronger than the Wall, that was what Father always said but both of you dishonored me." She jumped off the cot and began dressing quickly. "I will listen to no more."
"No, Cat, you must. You must know everything," Ned said, jumping up and trying to stop her. The glare she gave him stopped him from touching her. He'd never seen such anger, and he feared how much worse it would become before the night was finished. Arya stirred in her sleep and Nymeria, sensing the tension in the tent, sat up, watching them both. Perhaps it was best if they did go outside. Ned began throwing on his clothes haphazardly.
"What are you doing?" Catelyn snapped. "I wish to be alone."
"I know you do, but you must listen to me," Ned insisted. When she stormed out of the tent without even brushing her hair, Ned rushed to put his boots on. By the time he made it outside, Catelyn had already disappeared from sight, and he set out looking for her. He finally found her in a darkened area away from the tents, sitting on a boulder beside a small creek.
Ned walked to her and said her name quietly. Even in the moonlight he could see the tears glistening in her eyes when she raised them to him. "I always thought that even though you brought home a bastard, you came to me as soon as you were able, eager to see your heir, at least. But now I find out that you were in Dorne comforting the paramour of your brother, my first betrothal." A sob escaped her lips and she said, "You cared more for Brandon's bastard and your own than you cared for your wife and heir. If the baby had lived, would you have brought her home to Winterfell as well, another humiliation for me?"
"No! Cat, no. I couldn't bear to see you and Robb in the state I was in after the war. Robert was king, the Targaryens' dynasty had ended, but I didn't have the strength to be Lord of Winterfell, a father, and a husband. The scene in that throne room with the Princess and her children and the sacking of King's Landing was more than I could bear. I went to rescue Lyanna only to have her die in my arms. You and I were married then, but we hardly knew each other. I couldn't ask you to comfort me for the loss of my brother and his child or the loss of my sister. I wasn't able to tell you the truth about Lyanna… I needed time to mourn. I could barely care for Jon and I feared how I'd manage my own son…"
"Your own son?" Catelyn said quickly, turning to him. "You mean your other son?"
Once the truth had slipped from his lips, Ned knew there was no longer any use in keeping it from her. "I have always said Jon is my blood and that is not a lie. But Robb is our son… as are Bran and Rickon. They are my only sons. Cat, there has been no one but you since we spoke our vows."
She stared at him dumbfounded. At last she whispered, "Jon is older? He was born before Robb?"
"No, Cat. You misunderstand. Jon isn't my son. He's not my bastard. He's not a bastard at all. He's…he's..." His chest tightened with panic at finally admitting the secret he'd kept from everyone for so many years. "He's Lyanna's trueborn son with Rhaegar Targaryen. He was Rhaegar's heir." Cat said nothing, and Ned let the story pour out of him. "My sister ran away with Rhaegar; he didn't kidnap or rape her. She fell in love and ran away with no thought to the consequences. Rhaegar took her as his second wife, as Targaryens have done before. She was with child before she learned of Brandon and Father's deaths. She wanted to send word to me, but she couldn't, fearing it would put me in more danger. Then the war broke out and it was too late. Too much had happened and she knew it couldn't be stopped."
Catelyn sat very still, not speaking, so he continued to explain. "When Lyanna learned that not only had she lost Father and Brandon, but Rhaegar and Princess Elia and her children as well, her heart broke and she lost all will to live, blaming herself for all the deaths. She labored with Jon for days, knowing that when he was born, he'd likely be slaughtered as well. That's why the Kingsguard were at the Tower of Joy, to protect an heir to the throne. Lyanna was weak, her life fading so quickly as the fever took her. Howland Reed attempted to help her but we were just too late. She made me promise that I would take Jon to Winterfell and raise him as a Stark. I had to protect him from Robert, who called Rhaegar's other children 'dragon spawn' and stepped over their corpses to take the throne. Do you see why I had to hide his parentage from every one? Only Howland knows the truth. Even Wylla, his wet nurse, thought he was my bastard."
They sat in silence for what seemed like ages before Ned reached out to take her hand. Catelyn jerked away from him, a sob escaping her lips. "Should I admire what you've done, my lord? Protecting a Targaryen boy by humiliating me and making me feel as if you loved another, by putting all of our lives in danger for him? Should I suddenly feel love for Lyanna's son after all these years and grateful that he isn't your bastard? You have lied to me for our whole marriage. Every time I saw that boy, I resented him for looking more like you than our sons. I resented the way our children loved him as dearly as they loved each other, the way Arya looked up to him and Robb couldn't bear to be separated from him. I hated him because he represented a woman you loved enough to dishonor me. Explain to me now, how shall I feel for him?"
"I don't expect you to change your feelings, but all of this is my folly, not Jon's."
"It was never his fault! That's what shamed me so, that I hated this boy and it was never his fault. I was only able to forgive you for your bastard by hating him for his existence. When he went to the Wall, I was so grateful that I no longer had to see the constant reminder of a woman you loved so much you refused to name her." A bitter laugh escaped her. "Now I find out that he is also a victim of your lies and I still cannot feel the sympathy for him that I know I should."
"I know. You must believe how sorry I am and how many times I wished to tell you."
"Must I?" Her gaze flew to his. "Must I truly believe anything you say anymore? Your confession was to sooth your conscience, Eddard Stark. No one else will benefit from this knowledge. Not myself or your children and certainly not the boy in question. Jon Snow left the Wall to rescue you, his father and his sisters. And now you mean to tell him that you've lied to him his whole life, let him carry the burden of being a bastard and tell him that he is an orphan as well. You'll take away his brothers and sisters in the process."
"They are still his family. He is a Stark as much as he is a Targaryen. My sister's blood flows in him, the same as mine and I love him as much as if he were my own. I do not know how Jon will feel when he learns the truth but I know our children will love him regardless, as will I. If he never forgives me that is the price I must pay but I did what I had to do to protect him and our family. If Robert ever found out who he was, his anger would know no bounds and extend to every one of us. I never told you so that you wouldn't have to commit treason by denying that the true heir to the throne of Westeros slept under your roof all these years."
Catelyn's glare was like ice as she asked, "Is there anything else you've kept from me?"
Ned cleared his throat and looked down for a moment. He'd gone too far now not to tell her everything. "Aegon Targaryen is not dead and neither is Ashara Dayne. The babe murdered in the Red Keep was another babe. I did not know until I came to Dorne what had truly happened to Prince Aegon. May the gods forgive me, but I risked everything that Robert and I had fought for to help Ashara escape across the Narrow Sea with the prince. She couldn't save Elia, so she saved her son, as I saved Lyanna's. I feared one day that Prince Aegon or Prince Viserys would attempt to claim the throne, but I couldn't allow Robert to murder them. It was not loyalty to the Targaryens; it was compassion and mercy for mere children. Too many lives had been lost because Lyanna ran away with Rhaegar."
"Gods, Ned, what have you done?" she exclaimed her hand covering her mouth.
"I betrayed my friend, my king, long ago and I betrayed you and Jon. Every day I bear the weight of all of these lies. And when Robert told me to have Daenerys Targaryen murdered, I refused because she's still only a child herself. Aerys Targaryen was a monster and I do not regret overthrowing him. But what the Lannisters did in King's Landing dishonored all of those who fought for Robert. I attempted to make it right."
Catelyn rose slowly, taking a few steps to stand before him. She looked him in the eyes long and hard. "Your lies may well be the ruin of us all.
x-x-x
Sansa tried to ignore the queasiness that washed over her every time the ship swayed. Singing under her breath, she held a cool cloth to Sandor's forehead. He had regained consciousness before it was time to board the boat, and after he attacked Daryn, Dacey had knocked him out again - this time more effectively. He hadn't woken since. If Sansa had not begged, then finally commanded, she felt certain that Dacey would have ended him. So now he lay tightly bound to a cot in one of the small cabins on the ship, with a dreadful lump on his head.
While she appreciated Dacey's protectiveness, the Mormont heir appeared to loathe everything Sandor represented: a Kingsguard, a Clegane, and a Lannister loyalist. Sansa had overheard Dacey tell Lord Hornwood that Sansa's brother or father would likely kill Clegane anyway. Sansa did not think Father would, once he learned how Sandor had rescued her and protected her virtue from those horrible men.
"Stop that blasted singing," Sandor said, the words more moaned that spoken. His eyes remained tightly shut but he attempted to move one of his arms, only to realize it was tied. It was then that his eyes opened, and he glared at her sullenly. "If this is my reward for saving you, little bird, I should have let the men have you."
"You don't mean that," Sansa admonished him. "You're tied because you tried to crush Lord Hornwood when you woke the last time. If you had just listened to what Lady Dacey had to say…"
"Is that the bitch that hit me? Did she hit me last time as well? I'll kill her."
"You'll do no such thing," Sansa declared flatly. "Joffrey had no right to hold me hostage and Lady Dacey and Lord Hornwood are taking me to my family. You are lucky I would not let them kill you, although how you behave on the journey will affect your chances of survival with my brother and father."
Sandor studied her for a few moments before smirking. "Did you beg for my life, explaining how I had been your champion? Were you singing a song about your brave knight? You and your bloody fantasies. Have you still not learned what the world is truly like? That riot is closer to the truth but you'll hear no songs about it. Life is not a song, little bird."
Her eyes narrowed, Sansa threw the wet rag on the table beside his cot. "Someone else once told me that: Lord Petyr Baelish, right after he explained to me how foolish I was for believing in knights and monsters. He was right - there are more monsters than true knights in King's Landing. But perhaps you shouldn't be so proud of yourself for sharing a brothel owner's wisdom of the world." At his answering snort, she rose to her feet. "Now that I am certain you will not die, I will leave you to your own miserable company."
As she was walking towards the door, Sandor called out, "At least give me some ale, girl! That's the least you could do."
Sansa paused at the door for a moment. "You forgot to say please, Ser." She heard his curses as she slammed the door behind her, knowing that it would do no good for his aching head. Despite his rescuing her, the man infuriated Sansa to her very soul. He was the most inconsiderate, hard-headed, pompous oaf she had ever met. Sandor mocked her at every turn, treating her as if she were a simpleton. Sansa knew she had been naïve about people, but she wasn't dim-witted. Seeing one of the crew passing by, she asked, "Could you please bring something to eat for our guest and some wine or ale if you have it? I would get it myself but I fear I do not know where the kitchen is."
"Yes, milady," the man said with a heavy accent. "It is no trouble. Would you wish someone to help him eat?"
"No, I will do it. I just need some air," Sansa said and the man rushed off. She walked down the long hallway. The ship's air was oppressive, making her feel as if she was locked in a cage. She rushed towards the stairs, needing to escape.
Growing up, Sansa had seen troubled times and awful people, but they were rare. Some of the Northmen were boorish and ill-mannered at times, but Sansa and her mother were treated like ladies, deserving of the utmost respect. No one would dare be hateful or cruel to Sansa and risk offending her father. In fact, Arya was the only one who ever spoke crudely to her. A stable boy had once held her waist too long and her half brother, Jon Snow, had pulled Sansa away from him before returning to the stables, and doing gods only knew what to the boy. Another time, Theon once said something in her presence that she suspected was rude and inappropriate because Robb grew furious, immediately demanding he apologize to Sansa. Between her parents and her two older brothers, Sansa lived protected from everyone except her younger sister. Arya's insults paled in comparison to the way she was treated in King's Landing but even her little sister would likely hit someone who spoke to Sansa in any hateful manner.
No matter how much she fought with her brothers and sisters, they always protected one another. If one of them misbehaved, the others would claim ignorance or lie for them if asked by their parents. Theon once encouraged Robb and Jon to drink with him until both of them were sick and it was Sansa who sat with them through the night to make certain her parents didn't see them so ill, bent over their chamber pots. Robb used to always dance with Sansa when guests visited, even when she was so small that she would stand on his feet to follow the steps.
Hullen taught her how to ride a horse but after she learned, her brothers taught her to race and jump. Sansa wasn't nearly as good a rider as Arya was. All of them, except baby Rickon, would ride together with Theon and Jeyne Poole, so they could be carefree. Arya, half a wildling and half a horse, would race Jon and Robb until they let her win. Robb and Sansa had horrible snow ball fights in yard with Arya and Jon, who frequently surprised them from their positions up above. And if they'd play Come-Into-My-Castle, Sansa was always the queen, no matter how many times Jeyne would beg. Robb would laugh and say 'Sansa's destiny is to be a queen or a princess and we are merely her subjects'.
She reached the deck and walked to the rail so she could stare at the water below. Bran will never be in the Kingsguard. I don't know where Jeyne and Arya are. Jeyne might even be dead, like her kind father who was murdered along with the other people from Winterfell by the Lannisters in the Hand's Tower. And I never want to be queen. Tears burned her eyes and she wished, that once again, she'd never left her home.
"Are you well, my lady?" Dacey said as she walked up behind her. "I hear your guest is awake."
I miss my family. I want to go home. I'm tired of being afraid. "I'm fine," she said with a forced smile. "He is awake and rather ornery."
"My lady, you shouldn't spend too much time with him. He's not a good man, and I think your father and brother would prefer you avoid him." Dacey rested her hands on the railing.
"Will they kill him?" Sansa asked hesitantly. She didn't know why she cared; the man was so unkind to her. But he had protected her from Joffrey more than once, and from those men after the riot.
Surprised crossed Dacey's face before she shrugged. "I do not know. It's possible that since he saved you he will be allowed to live, but his house is loyal to the Lannisters so he will become a prisoner at least. Do you wish him to be pardoned?"
"I don't know," Sansa admitted. Arya wanted him dead for killing the butcher's boy and she knew Father disliked both Cleganes. But the fact that Sandor had saved his daughter from the unimaginable might grant him his freedom. She couldn't quite sort out her feelings on the matter, but at least she had time to think more on it before seeing her family. A tear rolled down her face and she brushed it away quickly. "How is Lord Hornwood?"
"He's in some pain after his to the altercation with the Hound, but I think he wishes for solitude to mourn his father. It was a hard blow. He feels he should have been there."
"Instead of saddled with the duty of rescuing me…"
"No, my lady. It was an honor that we were chosen to rescue you. But all children wish to protect their parents, just as our parents wish to protect us." The breeze blew Dacey's loose hair around and Sansa realized how pretty she was despite wearing men's clothing.
"I am so grateful to you and Lord Hornwood," Sansa replied softly." I truly feared I'd die in King's Landing."
"If King Renly had not helped Lord Robb with a plan to rescue you, he or Lord Stark would have found you as soon as they was able, even if they had to lay siege to King's Landing," Dacey insisted.
Sansa knew Dacey was right but doubts had crept in over time about her family's power against the Lannisters, even with the rumors that Robb was winning all of the battles he fought and had taken a great deal of Lannister territory. Each rumor brought both pride and terror to her heart. But now that she was free and safe, she grew more and more angry. For the first time, Sansa wanted revenge. "I want my brothers to take Casterly Rock down, stone by stone, and then I want them to mount Joffrey's head on a spike and lock the queen in the same cell where they put my father. And after King Renly has his throne, I want us all to go home."
Dacey's looked at her in surprise, then chuckled. "I am certain that your brothers will do all they can to fulfill that wish."
x-x-x
"So she's gone? Truly gone? And the Hound?" Tyrion demanded.
If Bronn was nervous, he didn't show it. "We've searched everywhere for the girl. We only found Lady Lollys Stokeworth."
Tyrion rubbed his temples with a deep sigh. "Yes, I've heard. Found her wandering around naked after being raped half a hundred times. The High Septon was butchered, a body that we believe to be the Master-At-Arms found in quite a bloody mess, and my young cousin, two Kingsguards, and the Stark girl are still missing. Continue to look for them until you find them. If we've lost Sansa Stark, the Starks will cut off Jaime's head and send it to me in a box."
Bronn held his hands out in frustration. "I lost nine men and forty were injured! How am I supposed to continue these searches with so few men? The fires are still burning in Flea Bottom. Why not focus the search on the Stark girl if she is the only one of any true value to you? Or give me more men."
"I will send Lannister men to search for Tyrek, but your men will search all day and night until you find Sansa Stark or her body. Put a curfew in place for all residents of the city," Tyrion said as he stood. "You will find Sansa Stark for me, Bronn. I made you City Watch commander because I value your skills. Don't make me regret that."
"I'm already regretting it," Bronn snorted before turning and storming out of the room.
x-x-x
"My lord, my lord." Robb had barely fallen asleep before his guard attempted to rouse him.
"What is it?" he called out, raising his head and rubbing his eyes.
"There's been a raven, my lord, and a messenger from Riverrun." Ser Wendel Manderly ducked his head into the tent and lumbered over to Robb, holding out two pieces of paper. "Ser Brynden said you'd want to read them now rather than waiting until the morning."
Unrolling the raven's scroll, Robb read that Renly had news of a riot in King's Landing. They no longer knew where Sansa or her rescue party were. Robb sat up quickly. Sansa. Dacey. The thought that they might be lost stole his breath away. When he could speak, he said, "Find my brother and bring him here."
He dressed quickly then sat down again to read the message from Riverrun. Jon entered his tent, looking half asleep. "What is it?"
"Seven hells!" Robb slammed his fist down onto his cot, throwing the parchment onto the ground. "There was a riot in King's Landing, and Sansa, Dacey, and Daryn are missing. And Edmure let the Kingslayer escape!"
x-x-x
The night was almost completely black with no stars visible and only a sliver of moon lighting the way. Most of the torches had been extinguished by the wind, which was howling now. Ned trudged back to his tent, the parchment from the raven still clutched in his hand. His mind flashed through all the horrible fates his daughter could be suffering at this moment. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. He stopped, trying to calm himself.
"My lord." The voice came from behind. Startled, he turned to find the strange foreign man, Jaqen H'ghar. He hadn't seen or heard him approach. "A man is troubled."
"What man?" Ned asked looking around before realizing Jaqen H'ghar meant him. "I received disturbing news."
"Such fire in your life," Jaqen H'ghar chuckled darkly. "But the girl is safe. She is not as fierce as the little one, but beneath the beauty, she is still a wolf."
Feeling even more unsettled, rather than comforted, Ned studied the man again. Did Arya tell him about Sansa? Arya should not trust this stranger.
"A man chose between honor and family long ago. Did he choose right? Will the past haunt him?"
Ned lurched forward, dragging the man to him by his collar. "What do you speak of?"
Jaqen H'ghar held his gaze unflinchingly, smiling slightly. "The dragons and the wolves will meet again. Your children are powerful, more powerful than you know. But be wary of the shadow the red one brings."
"No riddles," Ned growled, tightening his hold on the man.
"Lord Stark? Is something amiss?"
Hearing Smalljon Umber come up behind him, Ned turned, releasing Jaqen H'ghar in the process. "No, I was merely discussing my intolerance for riddles with him."
Smalljon stared at him for a few moments before saying, "With…who, my lord?"
Ned whirled around to find Jaqen H'ghar was gone. He stammered out some excuse that sounded weak even to his own ears. Wishing Smalljon a good night, Ned walked the rest of the way to his tent, dreading speaking to Catelyn about Sansa after all he had burdened her with earlier, and trying not to wonder what had just happened with Jaqen H'ghar.