Chapter 39: Day nine in the reign of King Aegon VI

Summary:
Another busy day in the reign of King Aegon. The events of chapter 38 have not transpired yet.

Notes:
I know I am taking my time describing his new reign and the plot is not moving forward much. I am not sorry in the least. I am enjoying the interactions of all these characters that either meet King Aegon for the first time or have to adjust to Jon's new status as King. Things will only start moving faster after the wedding ceremony and honeymoon are behind us.
Warning: discussion of past abuse and torture by the hands of Ramsay Snow.
Thanks once more to my beta Ravenousreadr for being there when I need her.


Chapter text:

Day nine in the reign of King Aegon VI

Jon felt like reborn. His training session had gone even better as the previous one. He hadn't lost any of his reflexes. His technique had not suffered either. He just needed to rebuild some stamina and muscle strength to regain full movement of his right leg. Jon reckoned it would take no more than a sennight before he was back to the level where he had been before he had gotten hurt. From there onwards he would strive to improve further. Today, Ser Arthur had mostly encouraged him instead of commenting on his every move. The Sword of the Morning had fallen into step behind him joined by a new recruit as they left the training yard, but not before Jon had noticed the pleased expression on Ser Arthur's face.

For now, his Kingsguards took it easy on him when he faced them one on one. They refused to go all out until his leg was fully healed. And Jon remembering the Maester's words complied but made sure to work hard on exercises that didn't strain his leg overly much but still left him on the brink of exhaustion, his mind clear and focused and his mentors very satisfied.

Still he couldn't wait to get back to his previous form and experience that strange feeling again. He yearned for that out of body experience, to feel once more as if not he himself, but the Gods were guiding his body, his every movement. It had certainly felt that way at Hardhome when he had been sure he was going to die. He had not panicked. Instead he had become very calm and his body had gone through the motions doing everything to stay alive as long as possible. Jon knew he had never fought better than at that instance. Against all odds, he had held out until the giant and later Jaime Lannister had come to his aid and even then, he had somehow been able to continue fighting as long as needed. Even though Jon had been thoroughly exhausted, he had never lost his mental strength. His mind as well as his body had been convinced that the Gods wanted the living to prevail and he had not wanted to disappoint them.

Now that he had found time to dwell on that a bit more, he wondered how much of what had happened on that battlefield had been his doing and how much had been due to the Gods' timely interventions. Had the Old Gods or any other deity guided Mag the Mighty and Jaime Lannister to his side? Was it actually possible that these Gods had to some extent influenced his actions and guided his sword? And if so, why had they not done more sooner? Why had they let things get that dire? He prayed daily to be granted clarity and guidance for the future but had not received any signs yet, or at least not ones he had recognised.

Perhaps it was because of the lack of a real Godswood in King's landing. The Godswood or what passed for it at the Red Keep was a poor imitation of a northern Godswood. The heart tree was not a weirwood tree at all. It was just a great oak covered in smokeberry vines. Red dragon's breath grew below the oak. After seeing this poor mockery of a heart tree the first time he came to pray in the Godswood of the Red Keep, he had immediately sent a raven to Howland Reed with a request for a sapling growing under the very ancient heart tree of Greywater Watch to be sent to him as soon as possible. Lord Reed had promised to bring it with him when he was ready to travel to King's Landing to officially pledge House Reed to the Crown. Uncle Benjen's journey had been an unexpected boon and the new sapling had already been planted. For now the area where it grew had been cordoned off by a wooden grid to give the young heart tree the necessary protection. He prayed that despite its size, the slim weirwood would contain enough magic already to allow the Old Gods to bear witness to his marriage.

Even if his muscles were a bit tired from the training session, Jon's step was light when he walked along the hallway to his study with his direwolf firmly glued to his side. His mind was clear and he was ready to tackle the issues that surely would present themselves today. Every day there was another small fire to put out. However much they planned and debated, some unexpected issue always popped up. But today, he felt ready to deal with anything. He nodded to Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur and closed the door behind him.

Now that he had for the most part come to terms with what had happened during the battle at Hardhome he felt ready to talk about it to his advisers. He knew they had been waiting patiently for him to open up, Ser Gerold certainly, but Dany even more so. He smiled and let his thoughts wander to his betrothed. Now seated behind the large desk with Ghost's calming presence nearby, he ignored his messages and pictured how enticing she had looked last night, reclined on her bedfurs talking animatedly about how she had reorganised some of her new duties.

Dany, his future Queen had a full schedule these days as well. She was present at every small council meeting and court session. The rest of her time she used to oversee the reorganisation of the royal household that had been severely neglected these last few years and coordinated the wedding preparations. She had sent food to all the orphanages in King's Landing and was closely monitoring the reports on the situation of the poor in Flea Bottom. She also stayed in touch with the craftsmen on Dragonstone and the Driftmark as well as with the women who were still producing banners and sails with the Targaryen sigil. On her command they had switched to altering the sigil on these sails, adding the white direwolf so they proudly displayed King Aegon's personal version of the Targaryen sigil. Lady Dayne was assisting her with the household matters and proved a calming influence while also bringing valuable experience to the table. She was urging Dany to pick some ladies-in-waiting. For now, Lady Ashara was her chaperone when Dany consented to a rare private audience to noble ladies of the more important bannermen. Irri was only present when they were sure their guest would not take offence. Dany had held firm that she would wait until after their honeymoon to start appointing ladies-in-waiting.

'Five more days,' a small smile lit his face. Tomorrow was the first day of the tournament that would last for four days and the day after was his wedding day and the official coronation of both him and Dany. Dany would make a wonderful Queen who would take an active part in his rule. He had no doubt that she would be a loving wife and an excellent mother to all of their children. There were no hick ups as far as that part of his life was concerned. Things with Dany couldn't be better even if leaving her last night to go back to his lonely room had been torture. She had been more radiant than ever after a promising visit with the dragons.

They had been out to see the dragons several times already. After their first escapade, Ser Gerold had been reassured it was fairly safe to do so. They had accessed the beach easily by way of the secret underground passageways of the Keep. And since the City Watch had sealed off that part of the beach and the woods, the safety and privacy of the royal couple had been assured. Where Ser Gerold was mostly concerned with the first, Jon and Dany appreciated the latter. Their two Kingsguards always kept a discreet distance once the couple was close enough to their dragons to be safe and they made sure that the new apprentice guards did the same.

Ser Gerold had upped their security significantly. Jon and Dany could go nowhere without being flanked by two of their usual protectors and a contingent of guards that were a mixture of Stark guards and candidates for a position in the Royal Guard. Jon hoped that the Stark guards would soon be replaced by sworn in members of their own Royal Guard. For now they were all grateful for the loyal service of the Northerners.

Ghost accompanied the royal couple as much as possible and Jon cherished his presence as much as the extra protection he provided. Still, he kept him away from the official court sessions and royal banquets. Sometimes, Jon ordered Ghost to guard Dany instead of him when their duties separated them. Certainly when he knew she would venture outside the confines of the Keep. He was glad that Dany had taken so well to Ghost. The loyalty of his direwolf to his betrothed had never been in doubt. The pack was all that mattered to a wolf and Dany was his pack. The best example of this theory was that Ghost and the dragons tolerated each other. Ghost considered the dragons a part of his pack too. Jon was convinced that the dragons and the direwolf would come to each other's defense if necessary.

Each time that Davos submitted the itinerary for the next two days for Jon's approval, Jon checked whether the visit to his dragons had not been cut. Davos soon learned that for now his King regarded these visits in the company of his betrothed as a top priority and despite the many demands on their time and energy, the royal couple visited the dragons on the beach at least every other day in the latter part of the afternoon.

Jon sensed that Viserion was starting to warm up to Dany. She had been giving the silver white dragon a lot of attention and always talked softly to him in High Valerian. At first Viserion had pretended to get bored quickly and had flown off in the middle of Dany's attempts, leaving Jon and Dany on the ground with only Rhaegal to lavish their attention upon. The couple took his behaviour in stride and acted as if nothing was wrong. Their visit always ended with a short flight on Rhaegal's back. It was during their third meeting that Viserion had purred for the first time when Dany had stroked the scales beneath his eyes. Dany had been elated and Jon has sensed that that had been significant progress.

He recalled Dany's plea all too well. She had argued that even though she did not have a natural bond with the dragons as he had, nothing stood in the way of attempting to cultivate a bond slowly. The Dragonriders of old weren't wargs either. Surely some of them also had needed to learn to communicate with their dragon. Jon had only been too willing to share her hopes and was helping her as much as he could. The only thing he had forbidden was using a whip even if he knew that some of his ancestors had needed it to tame their dragons.

It was a fine line though between not betraying the dragon's confidence and helping his betrothed. But for now he was managing it well enough. Yesterday, Viserion had stayed on the beach with them the entire time and had flown alongside Rhaegal during their short flight. Dany had returned to the Keep in high spirits. She was sure it was only a matter of time now before he would allow her to ride him.

It was a struggle for Jon to keep up with his duties and find time to interact with his family and loyal entourage in a less official capacity. He quickly realised that it would be a challenge to find a few moments to spend with his Uncle Benjen. Summoning him to his study was not what Jon had intended when he had pictured the both of them living in King's Landing. Luckily the tournament would start tomorrow and then the court sessions would be suspended for the entire duration of the tournament. There were still the banquets in the evening to attend though and the champion's celebration on the last day.

During the days following his wedding, his small council would conduct the business at hand without him for a few days. Jon had asked for a short reprieve so he and Dany could spend a few days in relative privacy. He planned to split this time between Dragonstone and the Driftmark. Jon had opted to travel by ship so Ghost and his Kingsguard could come along. He had given Ser Gerold strict instructions and the knight had promised to allow the couple as much privacy as possible. Davos, his uncles, Sam and the rest of his advisers would stay in King's Landing and oversee things there. Davos had promised to contact him only if absolutely necessary. They would send daily status reports to Ser Gerold. If Jon felt so inclined, he would have access to the necessary information simply by questioning his Lord Commander.

His eyes fell on the newly arrived scrolls that Sam always left on a large tray neatly positioned at the left front corner of his desk. His friend had scavenged it from the kitchens. He had gotten desperate one day when Jon couldn't immediately find an important message from White Harbour. This way at least, the unread messages were separated from the rest. Sam had also put in extra shelves in the cabinets that lined the walls of his study. Each shelve had a label with a code for the Kingdom followed by the name of a House and or Keep. Sam had taken great pains to arrange the order. They were grouped per Kingdom and then somewhat geographically. Jon had to admit that the system worked. The messages themselves were predominantly ordered by date received, the most recent ones lying on top. Still his desk remained littered because Sam only allowed the messages that had been answered to be put in the cabinets along with a copy of their answer.

Today was the first day since the start of his reign that their two day routine had been disturbed. The small council meeting had been cancelled since most of his entourage needed to deal with last minute preparations for the tournament. Jon had the rest of the morning to scan the new messages, review the new drafts Sam and Davos had prepared for his signature and read a part of the book that Sam had urged him look at as soon as possible so they could discuss it before he left on his honeymoon. It was high time to stop daydreaming and get started.

A bit later that same morning

Jon's eyes fell on the lists of names that he had been handed. Ser Gerold and Ser Davos had just given them their daily progress reports and left. His Lord Commander was finally making headway and Jon studied the latest version of the list with candidates that had started an intensive training program. He recognised the names of most of the houses but could not put a face to most of these young men. Ser Gerold had opted to only recruit young men. According to his Lord Commander, it was easier to get them to adapt to the rigorous rules and restrictions. They were also more accommodating to suggestions to change a vital part of their fighting style.

Jon had lost the argument that a mix of young recruits and battle hardened warriors would be the better option for now. Ser Gerold had argued that thinking long term was the only sound option when it came to organising the safety of the royal family. The loyal battle hardened men would be instrumental in putting down a possible rebellion or fighting the enemy beyond the Wall. Reminding himself that Ser Gerold had been doing this long before he had been born, Jon had bitten his tongue and relented. He had masked his concern when Ser Gerold informed him that probably barely half of these candidates would eventually be offered a position. Jon already commiserated with the ones that wouldn't make it. But most of all he was concerned by the fact that Ser Gerold insisted on a training program that would last several moons.

He was not blind. He saw how exhausted his four loyal guards looked at times. Ser Barristan's state of health worried him the most. Even with the addition of Ser Jorah, it seemed that Ser Barristan was always on duty. He had discussed that with Ser Gerold, urging him to lighten Ser Barristan's schedule.

"Your Grace," Ser Gerold had argued. "I bring you the reports every morning. I faithfully inform you of every attack on your or the Princess' life that has been thwarted. And even if up until now, these are mostly desperate attempts of a single assailant, we must be prepared for your opponents to become more organised. Lord Varys already sabotaged one larger attack. I prefer to have at least two of us close to you at all times."

"Then at least at night, let other men take over." Jon had tried to persuade his Lord Commander.

"Even then, I can't in good conscience leave both of your safety entirely in the hands of uh others, your Grace. But perhaps only one of us with several of Lord Stark's most trusted men will do. Benjen Stark volunteered but I hesitate to ask the Prince to stand guard during part of the night."

"If he volunteers then why not accept his help for a few nights to allow the four of you a bit more rest? I had expected Ser Jorah's presence would have provided some relief to Ser Barristan. I hope you consider him a trusted addition to the Queen's Dragonguard without putting him through several sennights of tests first? The Princess vouches for him." Jon had trouble to keep the exasperation he felt out of his voice.

"That is for Ser Barristan to decide. Ser Jorah is now an official member of the Dragonguard. As his Commander, Ser Barristan decides the rotation schedules. I'll keep a close eye on the situation. I promise, your Grace. Things will improve soon anyway. In a few days' time, we will only need to guard one royal bedroom. In a moon's time, the Kingsguard will add two more members when the ones you appointed will arrive in the capital."

Jon had blushed slightly when Ser Gerold mentioned the one bedroom but had frowned at his tone when he spoke of the two additions. His Lord Commander was still no totally reconciled with Jon awarding Loras Tyrell and Brienne of Tarth a position on his Kingsguard. Once more he spoke up firmly to defend his decision. "I trust Lady Brienne with my life without a moment's hesitation. Loras Tyrell as well, even though the behaviour of his kin may make his position a bit awkward. Give them a chance, Ser Gerold. Their hearts are true and their fighting styles can only improve with your guidance. They're still young and very eager. You will have no trouble moulding them into excellent White Cloaks."

"If you say so, your Grace. I shall insist that they learn their place and adhere to protocol. It won't do for them to hug the King they are supposed to guard."

"They will understand that, Ser Gerold. And I am sure you will remind them of it often enough. Just get us through the tournament and wedding and things will settle down after that. The Keep and the city will be less crowded and the smallfolk will go back to their lives."

"If only. We will have a war to prepare for in all probability." His Lord Commander had muttered but had left soon after.

Lady Brienne, Edric and Loras were still on their way to White Harbour for now. Jon had sent a message for them to the northern port ordering them to wait for Lord Renly Baratheon and Stokeworth to join them before departing for King's Landing. If all went well, these two would reach White Harbour that same day or soon after. In any event, best case scenario, his two new Kingsguards would still need a moon to arrive. He hoped the others could cope until then.

Jon had received confirmation from Cotter Pyke that Renly Baratheon had left at first light on the morning after his pardon had arrived by raven at Castle Black. As ordered a few men had accompanied him until he met up with Stokeworth who had set out from Eastwatch after learning of his royal pardon. Jon still had to receive the first report from Jaime Lannister but the Lord Commander shortly mentioned him. Lannister's deeds at Hardhome were well-known at Castle Black. At the very least Jaime Lannister was now treated with respect be it sometimes grudgingly, Cotter Pyke had written.

After Ser Gerold had left, Davos had entered. He had submitted the daily update of the already rather long list of Lords that had sworn allegiance. The one with the Lords that were on their way to the capital remained impressive. As it should be, the last one enumerating the houses that hadn't responded yet grew shorter. Jon very much looked forward to the arrival of Howland Reed. The Lord of Greywater Watch would bring his cousin Bran and both his children, Meera and Jojen along. Lord Domeric of House Bolton had announced his arrival as well. He would be accompanied by some minor Lords. The young Lord of the Dreadfort had included the request for a private audience in his message. He also reminded his King that he was willing to offer his hand to any bride the King would deem fit.

In the North, there were several loose ends that needed to be tied up. Theon was recovering well in his confined quarters at Winterfell. A decision needed to be made regarding House Bolton. A collaboration between the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and the Lords of the North, but more importantly, a treaty between the Free Folk and the North, perhaps even with the Seven Kingdoms had to be negotiated.

He still hadn't found the right opportunity and neither the correct tone to hold an honest talk with Uncle Ned to address how the North was being ruled for the time being. He needed to walk a fine line so as not to appear to be meddling too much. Still as King of the Seven Kingdoms, he had some say in the arranging of a betrothal for Domeric Bolton, the decision on how to reshape his house and the fate of Theon Greyjoy, did he not? Was he not the Protector of the Realm and the wrong decision here could endanger the peace and consequently the people he was obliged to protect?

Together with Davos he had been looking at prospective brides for Domeric Bolton already. Shireen had been considered but not withheld, one of Oberyn's daughters if her father and the girl in question agreed for her to be legalised, almost every available northern maiden had been discussed but in the end, Jon had decided to postpone any suggestion he would put before his uncle until he had first gotten to know Domeric Bolton better and had heard him out. He hoped the young Lord was amenable to change the sigil and name of his House and Keep. Lord Bolton's message had not hinted at any of that."

He mentally reviewed all the issues Davos had brought forward. They had only been able to discuss the economic and financial state of half of his Kingdoms and were still searching the books to find out when the next payment of taxes was due for each of them. They had also decided to hold one short small council meeting before his wedding. At the very least, they needed go over all the pending topics and decide which ones the council could move forward with and which ones they could delay until the King returned to King's Landing. Davos and Jon agreed on most of those but hearing it from their King personally would go a long way in silencing the rest of his council should they disagree with Davos' decisions. Until now nobody had questioned Davos' authority but Jon had always been there to back him up. This would be the first time that Davos would be put on the spot since he spoke for a ruling King.

Jon had every confidence in Davos however. He also knew that his Hand would not disturb his honeymoon if not absolutely necessary. Pledges of fealty would be suspended for a while. Davos would hold court and note their intentions, but they all agreed that each Lord should have the opportunity to meet with the new King face to face. He went over the list of Lords that still needed to respond and sighed when he read the first two lines, House Baratheon and House Martell. 'Give it time.' The wise voice of Davos rang in his ears once more. Jon would give it time but he had noticed that Prince Oberyn was starting to get antsy. His jokes had lost some of their light-heartedness and the confidence and arrogance he always exhumed had dimmed a little. "Give it time." This time he spoke the words out loud.

In any event, they could not undertake any action before his reign was at least a month old. Some of the Lords on this list could be away from home or the ravens could have failed to arrive for some reason. The announcement of his reign was sent out by raven and the more important ones had been backed up by a royal messenger who would bring a copy personally to the recipient and then report back to King's Landing. Before these messengers returned, he had no reason to worry. Besides, he had given the Lords six moons to respond. Jon shook his head. He should have formulated that better. Six moons to arrive in King's Landing and swear fealty in person was a reasonable term but he should have insisted on receiving a raven with their intent to do so immediately on receipt of his request. It would be a long wait.

He put the list down and let his eyes wander to the newly arrived scrolls awaiting his perusal. He quickly chose the one with the primitive seal that he recognised as Sandor's and started reading. Things were going well beyond the Wall, he wrote. The Free Folk leaders were opening tentative trade negotiations with the Night's Watch. Mance Rayder would be the spokesman and Sandor had been ordered to keep his mouth shut. Jon smiled when he read that. Tormund and Sandor were great people to have as company, the best warriors to stand beside on a battlefield but not one's first choice when one needed to mince one's words and stay respectful and diplomatic. More importantly, the scroll made mention of the first scouting reports. All was quiet. Sandor promised to send an update every fortnight.

As soon as his reign was firmly established, he would have to start the negotiations with both parties to set up a settlement for the Free Folk in the Gift, either a temporary one for the non-fighting community of the Free Folk, or if possible a more permanent one where clans could take turns living. The Lords of the North would insist on cordoning of the area first, that is if they agreed at all. The willingness of the Free Folk was not assured either. Jon was well aware that the Free Folk were nomads and in normal times, changed settlements every few moons. They would not be keen on being sequestered in a closed off settlement. He turned his attention back to the scroll and finished deciphering the barely legible handwriting of Sandor.

He was just about to open a message from Robb when Ghost jumped up and headed for the door. And sure enough the knock came moments later. As soon as he gave leave to enter, Ser Oswell's head appeared. Prince Stark is here to see you, your Grace. Eddard Stark." He clarified belatedly.

"Thank you, Ser Oswell. Let him enter."

Ghost stepped aside to allow his uncle to approach the desk but Ned Stark kept close to the doorway. Jon sighed. Nobody approached him without being given permission anymore. Not even behind closed doors, no matter how many times he told them all to relax in private. Sometimes it seemed as if one day they had all woken up with the notion that he was some legendary person while he still felt like the same flawed human being he had always been. He motioned to one of the two chairs that stood on the other side of his desk and smiled encouragingly at his uncle.

"Please take a seat, Uncle Ned. Shall I ask for the servants to bring us some refreshments?"

His uncle approached and but did not sit down yet. He kept his posture stiff. "I'll alert them if you yourself are in need of something. I am good, thank you."

Jon shook his head more out of frustration than to convey that he was not in need of refreshments either. His uncle finally took a seat and Ghost resumed his former pose and closed his eyes.

"I am glad you're here, Uncle. We've had not much opportunity to talk in private. Things have been so busy. Have you had word from Winterfell?" Jon looked longingly at the letter from Robb that he had not yet had the chance to read.

"I have. My wife has decided to undertake the journey to King's Landing. Sansa, Arya and Rickon will join her. That means I am expected to stay in the capital for another two moons at the very least."

"I for one consider that excellent news. I will have the advantage of your wise council a bit longer, Uncle. And you will see your wife again. I'll make the arrangements for a fleet of five ships to escort them here from White Harbour. We will give her all the pomp and circumstance she cherishes."

"Thank you. I wanted to discuss the timing of their journey with you."

"Why is that, Uncle?"

"You wrote to Robb that the recently legalised Lord Gendry of House Baratheon was set on visiting Winterfell before coming here and that he should be treated with the respect that an heir of the Stormlands and close friend of the King was due. It would be disrespectful for my wife to abscond with both her daughters mere days before he arrived. She can't in good conscience leave before he leaves as well."

Jon frowned. He quickly calculated when Gendry was supposed to arrive at Winterfell. Probably two to three days from now he concluded. "Gendry won't arrive for another two days. I didn't mean those words so literally. I just wrote that to Robb to make sure that Gendry would not be treated as a bastard over there. That being said, not only would it be disrespectful, it would also be a disappointment for Gendry not to see Arya again. And to miss being introduced to Sansa and your wife of course." Jon added quickly.

"I'd like to be a fly on the Wall of Winterfell to witness Arya's reaction once she learns that the new Lord Baratheon and the most wonderful blacksmith in the entire realm is one and the same person. Arya mentions a certain Gendry and how pleased she is with her little sword at least once in each letter I get." Ned had finally relaxed a bit and offered Jon a small smile.

"That and how much she has improved her sword fighting skills." Jon smiled back. "Her messages to me are not much different."

"Indeed. Arya sure has taken a shine to the boy. And you mentioned that he wants to see her too?" Ned clearly had an agenda when he asked that question.

"He likes her fierce loyal spirit and innocent babblings, just as I do. Like a big brother indulges his younger sister and finds all her antics endearing, Uncle. Nothing more, nothing less, I am sure." Jon's tone was firm.

"Even so, it would be a good match for both houses. Can't you see that?" His uncle probed again.

"Be careful what you wish for, Uncle. Are you really going to force a young Wild Wolf into a betrothal with a Stag? Besides, you should know better than to reveal your expectations to Arya. The only way that it could ever work out between the two of them would be to let her come to think of him in that way of her own accord. Perhaps you should forbid her to call him her friend. That would have more of a chance of getting her to seek him out." Jon held his uncle's eyes and Ned Stark was the first one to look away.

He looked a bit put out and deflected. "All this hypothetical talk hasn't solved my issue. When can I in good form allow my wife to leave Winterfell?"

Jon rubbed his chin. "What if they entertain Lord Gendry of House Baratheon for a sennight at Winterfell and then travelled under his protection to King's Landing? I could get word to Gendry and ask him to do me the favour to ensure the safety of my aunt and cousins."

"That could work. They need some time to make the necessary travel arrangements anyway. I will insist on a large escort."

"That will leave Robb really isolated at Winterfell. He will be the only Stark in Winterfell. Best leave enough trusted men with him. How is Robb doing by the way? I just received a letter from him and was about to read it when I heard you knock." Jon's eyes wandered to the scroll before him.

His saw his uncle grow a bit uncomfortable. "Do you refer to his health or to him not getting along with my brother?"

"To both, but let us start with the first. I know from Uncle Benjen that Robb's arm is no longer heavily bandaged and that he started with light training sessions already. Have his nightmares lessened?"

Ned Stark frowned. "Nightmares? He never mentioned having them. He assures me he is doing fine even though he admits to growing tired sooner than normal at times still. He wrote that he learned to respect me even more now that he experiences first-hand how demanding the role of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North can be."

"Kind of a lot to take on his shoulders all at once." Jon grasped the opening.

"He is the same age as you and you have taken on the responsibility of ruling all of Westeros." Ned countered immediately.

"For which I have been preparing my entire life for as long as I can remember, Uncle. And I am not doing it alone. You have been present at meetings now. You've witnessed how heavily I rely upon all of you."

"Now you sound like my brother. He tried to force his own ideas on me after breakfast." His uncle's tone was accusing

Now it was Jon's turn to frown. "I hope you two did not fight as well?"

Ned gave him a tense look but spoke with authority. "We did not. We exchanged opinions and reached a consensus."

"Am I overstepping when I ask what exactly that compromise entailed?"

"I might as well tell you. You will hear if from your Uncle Benjen in any event so let me recount my version first. We agreed that I am best placed to know what it takes to govern the North. But I also conceded how much I struggled when I had to assume the responsibilities totally unexpected and unprepared shortly after the Rebellion. We disagreed on one thing though."

Jon was curious but kept silent allowing his uncle to decide what to reveal. He made a mental note to discuss this with uncle Benjen at the first opportunity. Uncle Benjen, never one to stay idle, had volunteered his services and where Ser Gerold had hesitated to accept, Yohn Royce had had no such scruples. Jon knew that his uncle had agreed to accompany the knight of the Vale today when he made his rounds of the tournament facilities. The few times he had been able to talk briefly with his newly arrived uncle, they had kept their conversations light and had just enjoyed each other's company. Now he wondered what his Uncle Benjen had left unspoken. He had not noticed any difference in his favourite uncle's behaviour but then again he had not really been looking. He got called back to the present when the uncle sitting before him, spoke up again.

"I told Benjen that Robb was fully prepared to govern the North but he respectfully disagreed. He reminded me that I had lived at the Vale and travelled more than Robb. He also rather vehemently reminded me that I was a war veteran when I assumed responsibility of the North and that as such, I had earned the respect of the Lords that had fought by my side. He also mentioned that Robb still suffered from the repercussions of his torture at the hands of Ramsay Snow."

"How would you say that you prepared Robb fully for this enormous task, Uncle? Did he attend discussions where your stubborn bannermen tried to strong-arm you? Did you explain to him the motivations behind the decisions you made during recent years? Did you provide him with specific examples of what demands from your bannermen were sound and which ones were rather excessive and should be refused or toned down?"

His uncle looked surprised and hesitated before formulating a response. "He got an outstanding education. He learned about the houses, their strengths and weaknesses. I let him calculate the percentages the Lords needed to pay for taxes and showed him our books and explained the different fees they all had to pay."

Jon interrupted at this point. "All theoretical knowledge. Uncle, you must agree that it takes more than knowledge written in a book to learn how to deal with your bannermen. Have you at least given him play by play examples of your discussions, so Robb could learn how each of your bannermen needs a different approach because what offends one Lord is something another might consider a good joke or even a proof of friendship? Did your brother not give you some examples of the issues Robb struggled with?"

Ned's expression soured further. "Benjen had no business discussing such details with you."

"And he didn't. He kept his explanations vague but I grasped the gist of it. Uncle, Robb and I are still very young. Seventeen namedays is years younger than you were when you became Lord of Winterfell. Robb has hardly left the confines of Winterfell's walls. He hasn't travelled like you did. You were hardened by the war when you took control of Winterfell. Your Lords consider him a sheltered green boy."

Jon saw his uncle's closed off expression but didn't give up trying to sway him. "I am sure Robb and I will eventually succeed mostly on our own. But to proceed on our own now would be taking the more difficult road and would not only make us suffer needlessly but the mistakes we make while we gain the necessary experience might cause other people to suffer as well. Is it not the smart thing to do then to use the advice of our more experienced kin and of our loyal advisers when they offer it freely? Keep in mind that when all is said and done, I decide what to do with all the advice handed to me. Neither Robb nor I would follow others blindly."

His uncle still had a counterargument to offer. "What you say makes sense in your case. You govern Seven Kingdoms with vastly differing rules, different customs and a variety of weather conditions. But the North is more straightforward and needs a strong hand to guide it."

"Then give your son time to become that strong hand." Jon's voice became more fervent. "Keep him close. Help him and let him know of every dealing and meeting you hold. Don't throw him before the proverbial wolves and let him be taken advantage of by your more cunning bannermen." Jon knew full well that he was walking a thin line and if he wasn't his uncle's sovereign, the man would not have heard him out at all. He held his uncle's stare, determined not to back down.

"I am counselling him by letter as much as I can and I will be going north as soon as I can do so without offending my wife." Ned defended himself.

Jon stayed silent but kept his gaze fixed on his uncle who started to squirm a bit in his seat.

"And I will write to my bannermen stressing them that I am still acting Warden of the North and my son and I confer before making decisions. That will prevent them from harassing him with outrageous requests."

Jon nodded now. "Thank you, Uncle. Please believe me that I only have Robb's best interests at heart. I have been worried about him ever since leaving him at Winterfell. Do not underestimate what happened to him. He wants to make you proud and apparently won't admit to having any weakness to his father. Robb is a very strong man to be able to function at all after such an ordeal. A lesser man would have been broken and had either not survived or would have lost his mind."

Ned stiffened again. "You and my brother seem to know a lot more about this than I do."

"That is only because we were both present when he was rescued." Jon soothed his uncle. "I witnessed his weakened physical and mental state personally. Did you know that they withheld liquids for days and when he asked for a bit of water, Ramsay Snow offered to urinate in his cup? And that was not all. Your son was not only starved and dehydrated, but at each opportunity Ramsay threatened to feed him to his dogs bit by bit and make him watch while these animals feasted on his amputated body parts. Moreover, while the sadist took his time describing the sordid details, he was most likely flaying Robb's arm. Robb was well aware that those were no idle threats either. Robb's jailors confirmed how Ramsay Snow's father had undergone that very same fate for sennights until he eventually succumbed to his injuries and died. Ramsay even taunted him and called Robb lucky that his stepmother's girth would buy Robb a few extra days of respite. We found the poor Lady in time. She was barely coherent and missing her right hand and some skin but I heard from Lord Domeric Bolton that she is improving."

Jon saw his uncle grow paler with each word he uttered. Ned Stark looked nauseous and gripped the chair with both hands, his knuckles turning white. Nevertheless Jon continued his sordid recounting. It was high time his uncle was told the full extent of the matter.

"During his confinement high up in a tower at the Dreadfort, Robb never saw anyone except for Ramsay Snow and that man is a master torturer. Even though the only remaining visible signs of his ordeal will be extensive scars on his arm and the missing part of his finger, he will carry the reminder of what happened to him at the Dreadfort for the rest of his days. When I was at Winterfell, your son was scared to go to sleep. He startled when somebody made an unexpected noise or spoke to him before Robb had noticed the speaker approach. He needs reassurances from you and praise, not just demands, criticisms and difficult tasks." Jon last words were spoken in a reprimanding tone.

Ned swallowed thickly. "You must understand, I was merely acquainted with the fact of how he was captured and the extent of his physical injuries. The larger part of the reports I received contained extensive details of his successful rescue, a rescue for which I will be forever in your debt. Nothing in these reports prepared me for what you told me just now."

"And normally I wouldn't break Robb's confidence and I would allow him to keep his dignity, but these are things a loving father should know in order to be able to help his son and heir. I am prepared to tell you everything that happened and how my friends and I tried to aid Robb at Winterfell if you are willing to hear me out."

"I need to hear it." Ned still pale admitted with renewed resolve.

"Then if you agree, I will ask for a light lunch to be served in here. I wish to tell it to you as faithfully as possible and that will take some time. I promise you neither to omit significant details nor will I exaggerate. There will be no need to question what I tell you. Rest assured that everything you will hear will be the Gods' honest truth. I can make time until I have to be present for the few private audiences that are scheduled this afternoon."


Jon got back to his room barely in time to change for the last private audiences they had granted before the start of the tournament. He had just spotted the stately outfit they had left on the bed for him when Dany entered without knocking. She hurried over to him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Ignoring Ghost who had hurried to her side, she started to speak in a hurried tone.

"Aegon, you were absent for lunch and not to be disturbed the entire morning. I so wanted to tell you what I learned this morning concerning Lady Margaery. Are you not eager to hear it?"

"Only if I get a proper greeting first." Jon immediately grabbed her and kissed her within an inch of her life. "There I needed that." He said when he released her. "Are you sure we have to spend this little time we have before we need to put on another boring performance in public with talk about another woman?" His hands ventured lower and she took a step back.

"Aegon!" Dany laughed and ducked sideways when he tried to grab her once more. Ghost enjoying Jon's forwardness ran around both of them jumping playfully up against his human wanting to be included in the game.

"Jon, did you have time this morning to read that scroll I found about fire resis… . Oh, sorry, Princess. I didn't see you there. I was just looking for the King. I had not been able to see or talk to him all morning." Sam stood in the doorway beet red. Ghost had stopped his antics and walked over to Sam who indulged the wolf by petting his large head.

Jon sighed in an exaggerated manner and Dany laughed. "That is what you get when you tell everyone to treat you as before in private, Aegon. You only have yourself to blame."

"Then you must help me come up with some new rules for after we are married. It would be most inconvenient if they barged into our quarters without proper announcement."

"That's easy," Sam, mostly recovered from his initial embarrassment, offered his insight. "After you are married, just tell the guards at the door that you are not to be disturbed. For now, I think Ser Barristan uses every plausible pretext to interrupt you two when you are behind closed doors."

Sam had barely finished his sentence when Ser Barristan appeared in the doorway, his eyes twinkling. He had probably heard each word Sam had spoken since his friend still lingered close to the doorway. The knight didn't look sorry in the slightest. "Your Grace, your escort is waiting in the hallway as it is almost time for your Court appearance. Best send the Princess out and get on with your preparations." He pointed to the clothes spread out on the bed. Ser Barristan's tone sounded as neutral as always but Jon noticed the small twitch at the corners of his mouth when he tried to push Ghost away.

He put on a formal face and played along. "Thank you for reminding me, Ser Barristan. I won't keep you waiting long." He gave Dany a quick peck on her cheek and playfully shoved her in the direction of the door. But not before whispering in her ear. "Sorry for not noticing your dress earlier. You look enchanting, my love."

Sam hesitated but Jon gestured they would speak later and his friend left the room as well.


Luckily that day, the audiences were finished earlier than expected. Jon rose from the ceremonial chair and hoped to take a short stroll outside. He longed from some fresh air. Dany took her leave quickly. She would use the extra time to allow the seamstress another fitting for her wedding dress. Jon was just about to inform Ser Gerold of his intentions when Uncle Benjen approached him with Ghost in tow. Jon looked deep into his direwolf's eyes upon which Ghost immediately changed direction and turned around the corner where Daenerys had disappeared from view.

Benjen having intercepted the look between master and pet watched the direwolf sprint away before he addressed his nephew. "Jon, can you spare me a few moments? You were unavailable this morning and I didn't see you during lunch."

"Of course, Uncle. Perhaps we might take some refreshments on the balcony in the council room? I am in need of fresh air and the weather is lovely." He spoke loud enough so Ser Gerold would know what arrangements to make.

Ser Gerold nodded and Jon left the room flanked by Uncle Benjen. Ser Arthur and a young recruit followed closely behind. No words were spoken until the doors closed behind them. Benjen pulled Jon in a wordless embrace before taking place on the bench. Jon barely had a chance sit down as well before a servant entered with two large cups of ale. Apparently the servants were getting familiar with the habits and preferences of their new King. There was no way Ser Gerold's request could have been fulfilled that quickly. Jon recalled having seen a young boy in the hallway scramble to his feet and run off as soon as the last audiences had ended and the doors had opened. He had noticed the boy before and had been told that was Joni, a young errand boy in service of the kitchen staff.

Both men drank heartily and conversation started only when they both had put their cups down.

"How are you enjoying your stay at the Red Keep, Uncle?" Jon opened with a neutral topic.

"Well enough for the most part, though I wanted to talk to you about my sleeping quarters."

"Are they not to your satisfaction?" Jon frowned. "Dany had reassured him that her uncle had been given rooms fit to his station.

"They would be if it was not for their location. I had hoped to be assigned quarters in the vicinity to yours or at the very least in the same wing. I don't think they could have put me in a more remote part of the Keep. The rooms itself are very luxurious, fit for a King, one might say." He looked around Jon's temporary quarters with a raised eyebrow. "Jon, you know I don't care for luxury. I would rest better if I knew you were not that far away if something occurred. Now it takes me ages to get from my rooms to the part of the Keep where you sleep."

"I'll look into it, Uncle. I am sure something can be arranged. I heard high praise of you from Lord Royce. I am sorry I have not been able to spend more time with you, I had intended to free part of my morning but something came up." Jon sighed not sure if he wanted to spoil this opportunity by bringing up the topic of uncle Ned and Robb.

"No apologies necessary, Jon. I understand that things need to stabilise first. I cannot begin to imagine how much you have on your plate now. But I did want to ask whether I would be allowed to attend the next small council. I heard they will review the pending issues and decide how to deal with them during your absence. Perhaps I could be of some assistance."

"Davos told you?" Jon looked surprised. Not that he minded. Just that normally Davos was rather discreet.

Benjen Stark shook his head. "Dany was kind enough to fill me in somewhat."

"You spend time with Dany this morning?" Jon was even more surprised.

"Yes, she took pity on me when I wasn't allowed to disturb you this morning. We met at the door of your study where we were both thwarted by your Cerberuses. Dany offered to give me a tour of the more interesting parts of the Red Keep. Lady Ashara and Irri joined us. We were trailed of course by the necessary guards. I didn't get the full tour though. The Princess got waylaid at some point and I ended up taking refreshments with the lady Ashara in the morning room."

Jon's head peaked up. "And talked about the past?"

Benjen Stark's eyes narrowed slightly. "Ser Arthur warned me you might pry."

"Just curious, Uncle. Between the two of us, do you think she might have become good kin if Uncle Brandon hadn't died so young?"

Benjen startled but pursed his lips. "It is not my story to tell."

Jon sighed. "Ser Arthur said the same. But I can't just ask Lady Ashara why she never married."

"Perhaps because her house fell into disrepute, Jon. She had a difficult life and for a long time mourned her brother as well. Leave her be, please?"

When Jon nodded, Benjen produced a letter. "From Howland Reed. He ordered me to give it to you away from prying eyes once you settled down somewhat. He assured me that it contains nothing that urgent but wanted you to decide whether you wanted to share its content with others. He is of the opinion that you are allowed to keep things to yourself and doesn't want others to harass you. I left the seal intact. Lord Reed warned me he would know if I didn't. Do you think the seal has magic in it?"

"No, rather that he would have you believe that than it actually being so." Jon accepted the letter with alacrity. "Thanks Uncle. That reminds me. I have received a letter from Robb this morning, but it was rather formal and only mentioned that you left, not the reason why. It was a rather generic letter assuring me all was well in the North and that the Starks were all in good health, as were the direwolves. Most of the letter covers innocent pranks of Arya and Rickon. He also describes his mother's wish to head south."

"I didn't expect anything else." His uncle remarked. "If anything, Robb is obsessed with keeping up appearances. He wants to be viewed as a capable regent of the North, certainly in his father's eyes. Speaking of which, I might have heard that the reason that you were unavailable for lunch had something to do with my brother's extremely long audience with his King?"

"Now who's prying?" Jon teased to gain time. "I should make a bargain. I tell you something you want to know and you tell me something I want to know."

"Only if you don't force me to betray other people's confidences." Benjen Stark stood firm.

"Even as King of the Seven Kingdoms, you get me to give in to you at every opportunity."

"Only in such matters, Jon. You stood up to me often enough. I distinctly recall you not heeding my counsel at several opportunities, your famous rite of passage voyage being just one of many."

"And look how vital that turned out to be." Jon countered. "I got to you in the nick of time."

Benjen saw his nephew's face fall and quickly changed the subject. "I hope my brother didn't blacken my character and made you wary of my counsel even more than you already are?"

"l always listen to your advice, Uncle. Not matter what Uncle Ned says, you know I make up my own mind about you two. You are just angling to hear me say that I favour you over him."

"I might be a bit insecure. I admit freely that I was slightly disappointed that I hardly got to see you since I arrived and that feeling only grew stronger when I learned how much time today you spent behind closed doors with my brother."

Jon didn't know how to respond to that.

His uncle cocked his head. "Might I remind you that you didn't give an answer to my request to attend your small council tomorrow? I feel rather redundant here. I even offered Ser Gerold to help with your protection if need be since your Kingsguard is still largely incomplete."

"You are welcome to attend that particular small council session, Uncle. I can't make you an official part of my inner circle yet. I have to give Uncle Ned precedence. I advise you to enjoy the bit of reprieve from such a burden. When your brother returns to the North, you will be offered his place and will come to regret that you didn't take advantage of this relative period of leisure. I heard you have not been idle and have assisted Lord Royce most diligently."

His uncle signalled that he understood. Jon smiled but quickly grew more serious again. "As for assisting my Kingsguard, I will let you do as you see fit of course. Just be aware that I will want to be able to talk to you on occasion. Ser Gerold is big on protocol. If you are on duty, you would join Ser Arthur in the hallway. When you perform the duties of a Kingsguard, you are forbidden to address me. Ser Gerold would only allow you to come inside if he had a replacement at the ready. He takes my protection very seriously these days."

"As he should. Your enemies need only kill one person to overthrow your reign. Don't get overconfident, Jon."

"Just sit in on our next meeting and you'll witness how closely we monitor the situation, Uncle."

"I'd be only too happy to know a bit more about what is going on. Now tell me how are the wedding preparations coming along. I hope I may stand in for the father of the groom?"

Jon glad the subject about Robb and Uncle Ned's conflict with Uncle Benjen seemed to have been dropped for the moment relayed all he knew on the subject. He was still looking for the best possible solution but had decided to stall until he heard Robb's version of what had happened at Winterfell. He had drafted a long letter to his cousin, offering his support and unbiased ear. He would review the contents a few times to make certain he had found the right wording so Robb would not have cause to get offended or feel pitied. He would make sure the letter was ready to be sent out before his wedding. All that was left then was to pray that Robb would be more forthcoming in his response.

He dedicated all the time he had left before he needed to prepare himself for another stately banquet to his uncle. Both men felt better when they parted. Jon promised to make sure that Uncle Benjen would be seated next to him at the high table tonight. As soon as his uncle had left to prepare himself, Jon went in search for Dany to make sure his uncle was assigned different quarters at her earliest convenience. Once more he needed to readjust his plans when he was stopped by Sam.

"I still haven't had a moment to spare, Sam. But come with me. I'll give you the opportunity to read the scroll you sent me out loud while I put on my crown and formal coat." He resigned himself to another delay. And the message from Howland Reed was still burning a hole in his pocket.

"Still no manservant then, I gather?" Sam asked when then entered his room where no servant was present. Only the beautiful coat with ermine collar lying on the bed was evidence that someone had been in here. "You are aware that the servants are gossiping and that the nobles are starting to as well?"

Jon refused to cower under the admonishing stare of his friend "That's just harmless chit chat."

"Still, allow Varys to tell you what the latest rumours are. I do not think that you will still remain so cavalier about it all."

"I will, when I find time. For now, let's focus on what you have found out about the fire resistant abilities of my ancestors. Have you discovered how long I can withstand the fire of my own dragons before I weaken?"

"You mean how much time will you have available to defeat the Night King when you attempt to weaken him with your dragonfire."

"Yes. I hope you found proof that he can get weakened by dragonfire. I don't know why I should attempt it otherwise."

"To keep others from interfering? To prevent him from giving them instructions. Possibly blocking his magic? We are presuming that the Night King is the only one wielding the magic. We mean to isolate him, prevent his White Walkers from coming to his aid. We already know that the wights will be deterred by the fire."

"You have me convinced, Sam. Start reading so we can leave in time. I don't want to be known as the King who doesn't care how long he keeps his subjects waiting."

Interlude 39: On the road

Stokeworth tried to make Lord Renly of House Baratheon see reason. "Is it really necessary to travel at such a speed? We will exhaust our mounts and in the end will lose even more time than it takes to let the horses rest up a bit now."

"King Aegon requested us to be in White Harbour before the ship with his new Kingsguards leave." Renly Baratheon repeated once more.

"And we will get there in time. We are ahead of schedule most likely." Stokeworth didn't understand why Renly Baratheon was so eager. The man had spent less than three moons at the Wall and most of that time in relative luxury. He had not participated in any training sessions and had enjoyed many privileges. Stokeworth on the other hand had spent eighteen years in this pity excuse of a brotherhood, learning to fend for himself and survive. He had suffered not only the harsh conditions of ranging beyond the Wall but also the derision with which many of his fellow 'brothers' had treated former Targaryen supporters. Renly's stay compared to his had been more like an adventure and a sightseeing tour than an imprisonment. He had been relieved to hear that he did not have to travel alone but would have preferred another companion on his first trip south of the Wall in decades. He swallowed when thoughts of Jaremy came to the forefront and almost did not hear the soft reply of his travel companion.

"I hope to meet a dear friend of mine who fought near Hardhome against the dead."

Stokeworth turned his head to look at the high Lord with amazement. His statement had sounded so honest and yearning. Once more Stokeworth was reminded of his own dear friend whose body they had burned immediately after he had fallen. A sudden wave of sympathy for Renly Baratheon compelled him to respond kindly. "We'll make it, Lord Baratheon. And besides, didn't the King also write that he would ask them to wait for us? They will know that we are coming. And if your friend feels anyway near the same as you, he will be equally motivated to urge his companions to wait as vehemently as you are hurrying me."

Renly Baratheon's face broke into a dreamy smile. "He is. You are right, Stokeworth. Let's take a break. I see a small lake up ahead. The horse can rest there and we can eat something. Now that I think about it, I am rather hungry."

Stokeworth was glad to see Baratheon lighten up. He wondered who this friend was. He had lived such an isolated life at the Wall and hoped that some of his former friends in the South would still recognise him.

He sought the necessary wood to start a small fire. All such tasks fell to him. King Aegon had advised Lord Baratheon not to visit the Northern Lords. Not only would this delay their journey since it would be impolite to just come for supper, a soft bed and hurry onwards at first light the next day, but King Aegon had also warned Lord Baratheon that he couldn't vouch for a warm welcome.

At the end of the second day of travelling together, Stokeworth had asked Renly Baratheon to assist him in setting up their small tent and the Lord had hindered him more than he had helped. Stokeworth would have managed it quicker alone. Still it chafed that Lord Baratheon considered it only natural that Stokeworth would wait on him and see to all the chores on this trip. Stokeworth might be from a minor house in the Crownlands but he had never been a servant in the South.

By now the former Prince at least knew the basics of setting up a tent and today he surprised Stokeworth by helping him gather some dry wood for the fire without being prompted to do so. They ate some dried meat in a comfortable silence. It was still a bit early to put up the tent.

"Do you know a certain Gendry?" Lord Baratheon asked him after he had finished his meal.

"Of course. That is if you mean the skilled blacksmith who is a personal friend of King Aegon? I know him."

"What is he like?"

Stokeworth looked hesitant now. "What do you want to hear? I don't know him that well. He mostly spent his time with Donal Noye but the few times we spoke he was modest, kind, polite. Is that what you meant to ask?"

"Perhaps. Did you know that he is my nephew by blood and will inherit Storm's End after me? Hopefully only after he is old and grey. I am not that much older than him. I wonder if King Aegon realises that."

"I don't understand. What if you sire sons? I can't believe that King Aegon would order you to disinherit your children even before they are born? That doesn't sound like the Prince I've come to know and love."

"The King knows I will not sire any heirs. My older brothers will not sire any more children and the King has promised to find an advantageous match for my only niece. Gendry has been legitimized and is my only living male relation that has a claim to the name Baratheon now. So you see, it all makes perfect sense."

Stokeworth looked a little embarrassed. He didn't want to pry. Certainly not if Lord Baratheon had a health issue that prevented him from siring children. He had heard of such a sickness and no man would willingly admit to having it. "King Aegon is wise for one so young." He answered neutrally and the conversation halted there. Both men contemplated the fire.

"There is still some daylight left. We could travel a bit further before setting up our tent?" This time it was not a command but a kindly phrased suggestion.

Stokeworth nodded. "Excellent idea. We will soon reach the crossing where we have to turn east. If we miss it we will be making an unnecessary detour past Winterfell. If we had more time, I would have loved to see that stronghold. King Aegon described it to me once. It sure sounds like a unique Keep. Have you ever been to Winterfell, Lord Baratheon?"

"Only once and I wasn't treated as a guest but stowed away in some backroom. It could have been worse I suppose. All of this could have turned out much worse. I'm glad King Aegon is related to the Starks. I owe a lot to Ned Stark, most probably my life. It is highly likely that it was Ned Stark who petitioned the King to release me."

"King Aegon is his own man," Stokeworth argued. "He did not just release you. He reinstated you as the Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. That is very generous of him. He didn't have to do that."

"He did it to secure my Kingdom." Renly argued not ready to hail the reign of a Targaryen King even if the young man had seen to it that he would be reunited with Loras sooner rather than later. He would not admit, not even to himself, that he was jealous that Loras sang the young Targaryen's praises every opportunity he got.

"Really?" Stokeworth countered. "You don't hold Storm's End. Your brother does. As far as I see it, our King will need to help you regain your seat, not the other way around. Once he has taken it from Stannis Baratheon, he could install anyone he wanted as Lord of Storm' End. Hells, he could even award it to me."

For the first time Renly Baratheon studied Stokeworth more seriously and remembered he was a Lord in his own right, be it one of an insignificant house. "You have such ambitions?"

"For the Gods' sake, no! I was just trying to make a point." Stokeworth's exasperated shout rang over the isolated landscape.

"Then what are your intentions?" Renly softened the tone of his voice to make it sound more like he took an honest interest in the older man's affairs instead of accusing him outright of being a usurper.

"Find out if my family still welcomes me. Perhaps join King Aegon's court, petition for a position in his Royal Guard? Or I might decide to try and find a woman who will have me. I am not too old to start a family. Anything is possible. I won't make a hasty decision. I have options for the first time in eighteen years."

"Well, if ever you have need of my influence, contact me. I might not let on but I know I have been a nuisance to you so far. Since Cotter Pyke didn't want to send others along because of the temptation such a thing would present to a man of the Night's Watch, I am grateful for your company and protection on this trek.

"I appreciate that, Lord Baratheon. I am also glad for the company. Men are not made for solitude. And here in the North, travelling alone is a reckless and foolish thing to do.

A sennight later

White Harbour was larger and more prosperous than Renly Baratheon had expected. The settlement was brimming with activity. It was market day and Renly used the opportunity to purchase some new clothes and another cloak. He hated the black monstrosity he had worn on this journey, but he had used it out of sheer necessity. Nothing of the clothes he had been allowed to bring with him to Castle Black had been warm enough. Now he had a beautiful white and grey cloak and felt like reborn. They had debated whether to go straight to the docks or to refresh themselves and order a wholesome meal at a tavern first. Renly wanting to look his best when he met up with his lover had, pleaded in favour of the latter.

He spent his last coins Cotter Pyke had allotted him courtesy of King Aegon in the tavern and knew he would need to take out a loan somewhere if he did not want to arrive like a beggar in King's Landing. King Aegon's letter would be a great help in that regard. The Lord of Storm's End would not have difficulty securing funds.

Stokeworth was the first to enter the large tavern. He scanned the room but couldn't find a table that wasn't occupied. Renly entered and halted next to him and quickly understood their predicament. The innkeeper spotting Renly's posture and superior clothing immediately came over.

"My Lord, can I be of assistance?"

"My companion and I are looking for a place to eat and also the opportunity to freshen up a bit. We are not spending the night. We are meeting up with a party at the docks and will continue our journey to King's Landing in their company. Do you happen to know whether a ship has recently arrived from Eastwatch?"

"These days that is a regular occurrence. I can send an errand boy to the docks straight away. He will be back before you have finished your meal, my Lords. Will you be taking it in private? I can set a table in one of the sleeping quarters. I'll have the servants bring hot water up so you can freshen up while we prepare a warm meal."

"Thank you. That would be most welcome. And if the messenger returns, he may disturb us at any time. We don't mind. We are eager to hear news of our friends."

"Of course, my Lord. I'll send the messenger out first thing and then I'll escort you to a room."


Stokeworth finished the last bite of one of the best meals for as long as he could remember, well perhaps with the exception of the vegetable soup with pieces of chicken his mother used to cook for him when he was little. He had forgotten how nice a meal prepared with more than one ingredient and extra spices could taste. He looked over to Lord Baratheon's plate and noticed that the man was just shifting his food around.

"Is the meat not to your liking?"

Renly startled and looked up. "I'm not that hungry. Mostly nervous, I suppose. I wonder how long it will take for that messenger to …"

A short knock and the door opened without waiting for a reply. "Renly!" Loras burst into the room.

Lord Baratheon barely had time to stand before he was enveloped in a hug. He swallowed and blinked a few times to prevent tears from escaping his eyes. He clapped Loras' shoulder and released him well aware that they were not alone.

"Loras, it is good to see you." He said rather formally. His eyes however betrayed how happy and relieved he was to see his lover again. "May I present my travel companion? This is Gylles Stokeworth. His kin owns castle Stokeworth in the Crownlands. He was at the Wall with me and protected King Aegon while he was staying at Castle Black before he took the throne. He also accompanied him beyond the Wall. He recently received a royal pardon and will be travelling with us."

Renly took a step away from Loras. "Stokeworth, this is my dear friend Lord Loras of House Tyrell. He will be knighted and has been promised the position of Kingsguard by King Aegon upon arrival in King's Landing."

Stokeworth inclined his head. "Pleased to meet you and congratulations."

"Likewise, Lord Stokeworth."

"Who else is travelling with you, Lord Tyrell?" Stokeworth was keen to know.

"I am travelling in the company of Lady Brienne of Tarth and Lord Edric of House Dayne, the nephew of the Sword of the Morning. Lord Manderly will join us as well with part of his family and a few other northern Lords. Lord Manderly is the Master of Ships of our new King."

"Gendry is not travelling with you?" Stokeworth had hoped to hear at least one familiar name.

"He is Lord Gendry of House Baratheon now." Loras smiled at him. "He has been legalised. Our newest Lord has been ordered to travel to Winterfell and escort the ladies of House Stark to King's Landing. They will follow in a sennight or two."

"When did you arrive at White Harbour?" Renly asked Loras his eyes taking in every detail of his lover's lean frame. For the moment all thoughts of Gendry Baratheon were pushed to the back of his mind. He would meet his legitimised nephew soon enough.

"Just this morning. We visited the town and asked around. I was so relieved when the messenger arrived with news of your safe arrival."

Stokeworth coughed. "If you don't mind, I need to go outside and heed the call of nature. I'll wait for you downstairs so we can all meet the others on the ship." He had clearly sensed these two friends were holding back because of his presence. They clearly were very close friends in need of privacy. He was halfway down the stairs when he put two and two together. The gossip at Castle Black surrounding Renly Baratheon now made sense. These two men were closer than friends and Renly Baratheon did not intend to sire heirs preferring to stay faithful to his lover. He could be such a moron sometimes. He was glad however that he hadn't realised it before. It would have made sleeping in one tent with the man during their time on the road much more uncomfortable.

He went outside and finished his business. Then he sat on a quiet bench at the back of the tavern and turned his face toward the sun. It was already significantly warmer here in White Harbour than at Castle Black. Soon he could shed his winter clothes and for the first time in eighteen years put on a lighter outfit. Feeling the heat of the sun burning on his skin, it actually started to sink in. He would be home soon.


End notes:
Next Chapter: The tournament gets underway in King's Landing.