Chapter 40: The Tournament
Summary:
Jon is still coming to terms with how to act as a King. Uncle Ned disappoints him. Lady Tyrell attempts to confront him. Davos, Prince Oberyn, Benjen, Dany and even Varys guide him through it all. All of this occurs while the tournament takes place.
Notes:
Just to avoid confusion, now we catch up on the events of interlude 34 where Willas Tyrell arrived at Casterly Rock. That interlude was set slightly in the future.
Due to circumstances, my beta was unavailable so I had to proofread the chapter myself.
aaa
Day ten in the reign of King Aegon the Sixth of his Name
Whether it was by the courtesy of the Old Gods, the Seven or the Lord of Light, one thing was certain, the tournament had been blessed with good weather. The morning of the day that the tournament would finally get underway, the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. Chances were that the next couple of days the weather would remain dry and that the winds would not pick up much and remain just a soft breeze hailing from the sea.
Jon whistled while he refreshed himself and dressed with extra care after his training session. His schedule would be lighter these next few days. Only one short small council meeting was scheduled during the course of the tournament. He expected no brain wrecking discussions either. They would just catalogue the pending issues and set a few things in motion so his advisers could carry on without him for a sennight, maybe even a few days longer. After this meeting, he would be free till lunch. Next he planned to make a few royal enhancements to his attire before he was set to pick up Dany. Together they would attend the two opening ceremonies of the tournament. First they would head to the tilt yard that had been erected in the square at the foot of the steps of the Sept of Baelor and later that day there would be a demonstration of different fighting styles in the dragon pit. The actual melee would start on the morrow.
He was just fastening his sword belt with Blackfyre around his waist when Ghost's head shot up and Jon heard a polite knock moments after. He recognised it instantly as Maester Pylos'. There were three slow polite taps on the door, not too loud, not too insistent. The servants knocked four times rather quickly. His Kingsguard knocked only twice but did so with strength and authority. "Enter," he shouted and motioned Ghost to stay put. Maester Pylos' head appeared as expected.
"A raven from Greywater Watch, your Grace."
"Thank you, Maester. Is there anything else to report?"
"I have news of House Rykker, your Grace. The current Lord of Duskendale, a Lord Renfred Rykker is only a distant cousin of Jaremy Rykker. He regrets to inform you that he never met his cousin Jaremy. Young Renfred was a mere boy of ten namedays at the end of the Rebellion and had kneeled to the Baratheons in order for House Rykker to retain their castle. Still they were stripped of most of their farming lands. After they received your message, Lord Renfred of House Rykker sent his congratulations to his Grace and confirmed that he would head a delegation from Duskendale that will arrive during the next moon to renew his house's allegiance to House Targaryen. Lord Seaworth added them to the list."
Jon nodded and studied Maester Pylos who had remained close to the doorway. Ever since the young Maester had arrived he hadn't really found the time to talk to him personally. Now was as good an opportunity as ever. "Are your quarters to your liking, Maester?"
"They are, your Grace. Can I take this opportunity to thank you for the opportunity you are giving me to serve you here? I understand better now why you all kept to yourselves these first sennights on Dragonstone. It was an enormous secret to keep."
"You have handled yourself admirably through it all, Maester. Consider this my thanks and your reward for not being smallminded and helping us when we needed you despite our previous behaviour."
"You're welcome, your Grace. Perhaps you would allow me to have a quick look at your wound or should I call it a scar by now? I heard your trainings are going well."
"I heeded your advice and was a good boy, if I say so myself." Jon smiled and undid the laces of his breeches.
The Maester approached and made quick work of his examination. You have indeed been rewarded for your good behaviour, my King. Your muscles feel strong as well. You must also have faithfully performed the exercises I recommended."
Jon just nodded and proceeded to adjust his clothing.
"Do you want me to withdraw so you can read your message in private or shall I wait to see if you need to summon your advisers?" Maester Pylos had already taken a few steps backwards.
Jon broke the seal and opened the scroll. "Just wait here a moment, please. It is a short message." He started to read, keeping his face neutral.
"Lord Reed announces the day of his arrival. He expects to be here in time for the wedding. He will be accompanied by his children and my cousin Bran. At least one of my Stark cousins will be able to attend." He smiled at the Maester. "I won't need your services for now, Maester Pylos. You may retire."
Maester Pylos bowed and left the room. Jon sat down and read the message once more. Howland Reed had added a coded paragraph. Jon quickly deciphered it. The Gods had sent him a variation of the vision featuring the undead foe in the South. Lord Reed also warned him that the Red Priestess Melisandre was recovering. However this time, she appeared not to use her powers to shield the region from them. It even felt like she was doing the opposite. Lord Reed believed there were signs that she was reaching out to them. His foster father requested a private interview shortly after his arrival. He expected to be in King's Landing by the last day of the tournament.
Jon put the scroll down. A few more welcome faces to attend the wedding in the Godswood if all went as planned. He would make sure to tell Dany. Another knock, this time it was the assertive knock of his Kingsguard. Jon looked at Ghost whose calm demeanour reassured Jon that there were only people present at the other side of the door that Ghost considered pack. "Enter," Jon called out, while he tucked the message safely away in his pocket.
Ser Gerold stood in the doorway. "Prince Eddard Stark requests a private audience, your Grace."
"Let him in." Jon replied. Ser Gerold bowed and left the room after his uncle had entered.
Jon sat down and studied his uncle closely while he took a seat. Ned Stark looked troubled and didn't meet Jon's eyes. "I presume this is about what you learned concerning Robb's health yesterday?" Jon opened the conversation.
His uncle nodded and swallowed. Jon didn't have the heart to send him away and postpone their conversation till after the small council meeting. He stood, walked to the door and opened it slightly. "Ser Gerold, inform the council members that the meeting will be delayed due to unforeseen circumstance. I expect to join them in the council room by the second half of the morning." Jon looked behind him and saw the hunched shoulders of his uncle. "Just in case, would you also ask Davos whether there is any reason why we could not postpone the meeting till tomorrow morning? If we start early enough, we should have finished before the joust starts mid-morning that day."
"I'll see to it that Lord Seaworth receives your message, your Grace." Ser Gerold promised and Jon closed the door and steeled himself to deal with his uncle.
Jon for the most part let his uncle steer the conversation. Nothing new was touched upon. His uncle clearly needed to vent his feelings. Jon understood from experience how talking about things released pent up emotions. This was often the way Jon worked things out. Talking to Davos, Sam and lately also Dany had a calming effect on him.
But that was not the usual way of his uncle for dealing with issues. Normally the man retreated and kept his own counsel while he mulled over his problems and most of the time resolved them without help. He would only ask for assistance if he had a clear plan of action and needed the help of others to carry it out. Being so open with his young nephew about his struggles and emotions was out of character for the Warden of the North. Somehow it made Jon a little apprehensive but he decided to let it play out. He barely contributed anything except for some interjections at the appropriate times as "I understand", "that's right", "give it a bit more time". This changed when his uncle brought up the subject of Jon's upcoming marriage.
"Soon you will be married and my son hasn't even been betrothed." Lord Stark looked hesitant. "I would appreciate your advice on the matter."
Jon studied his uncle carefully trying to determine how forthright this request really was. Was it born out of obligation or was Lord Stark truly asking his advice because he was not certain how to proceed? Still, he would not insult his uncle by voicing his doubts about the proud man's motivations out loud. "I would prefer it if you let Robb be acquainted with a prospective bride first, Uncle. Marriage is a big step. It is a shame he cannot leave Winterfell for now. If he were here, he could meet all the young ladies presently at Court. I met several suitable candidates of major houses at least as pretty as Lady Margaery. Some might even be kinder, more suitable to life in the North. A handsome young Prince of House Stark can easily make the young lady of his choice fall in love with him."
"What you have found with the Princess is a happy coincidence, Jon. It colours your opinion on this matter. Don't expect everyone to be as lucky." His uncle's voice took on some authority for the first time during their talk.
"I don't. But you must agree that time is not that much of an issue any longer. Even politics might be put aside. The North has never before been in such a prominent position, on such intimate footing with the Crown. Your son is a Prince of the North, first cousin of the King and on excellent terms with him. After I am married, Robb is the most eligible bachelor of the seven Kingdoms. His status will not diminish if he remains unbetrothed a bit longer. Why not let him meet your candidate first and give them a chance to find out whether they can at least tolerate each other? It will also help that Robb will be allowed a bit more time to come to terms with the intimacies a bride will expect from him."
"Robb is a man grown and able to bed a woman." Ned frowned. "What are you alluding to?"
"I'm sorry, Uncle. I could have phrased that better. I still picture how not so long ago my cousin startled easily and avoided being touched. I know he is getting better. I just surmised that a delay would help him get more confident before having to reveal his scars to his bride." Jon gave his uncle an apologetic look only to revert back to a more neutral expression when he realised his words had not improved his uncle's mood. Never before had he seen Eddard Stark look at him with barely constraint disappointment if not right out frustration. If it wasn't his loyal, honourable uncle he was talking to, he would have been sure that the man sitting in front of him did not like him.
Ned Stark's posture was stiff when he finally reacted. His voice was eerily calm but had an ominous edge to it. "What about these other careful words of yours. Could you have phrased them better as well or did you mean to steer me away from Lady Margaery as a potential bride."
Jon was glad he wore long sleeves so his uncle could not notice the goose bumps that had appeared on his arms. He was relieved when his voice betrayed nothing of his emotions when he replied. "I don't really know her, Uncle. I am just concerned that she might turn out to be like her grandmother. I met the Queen of Thorns on several occasions and do not like her at all. She has gotten away with things serious enough to justify throwing her in jail or even taking her head if we were able to prove them. Besides, one of the limitations I put on House Tyrell as a punishment for their proven offences against the Crown was that they could no longer betroth Mace Tyrell's children without royal consent. I ordered the betrothal of their heir and appointed Loras to the Kingsguard."
"That is still too lenient if you ask my advice. Her behaviour deserves a harsher punishment." His uncle replied, his voice having regained its usual calm authority.
Jon didn't hide his stupefaction this time. "You know?"
"You will have to be more precise than that but I am no simpleton. And Varys told me some of his suspicions. Over time, I have come to rely on the Spider not to cause undue alarm."
Jon was starting to regret that Davos was not present for this interview. He would defuse this confusing situation with a light but pertinent remark. To Jon, it felt more and more as if something was off. He had started the conversation by feeling sorry for his uncle and had let him steer things. Prince Oberyn's revelation and tips made him realise that it was time to change the dynamics and assert himself. "Then why ask me? Was this a test of sorts?"
Ned sighed but had yet to relax his posture. "I wouldn't phrase it that strongly, Jon. I only wanted to find out if you intended to keep your cousin's unmarried state hostage to consolidate alliances at your whim now that the political situation has taken this positive turn."
Jon's gripped the arm support of his chair to prevent him from jumping up. He looked at Ghost and it took every effort to keep his wolf calm and his voice level when he reacted to his uncle's words. "If anyone else was sitting before me, I would feel deeply insulted. The more I think about this, the more I am starting to believe that you manipulated this conversation and that is beneath you."
"My choice of words might have been unfortunate. It is merely that I fear that Robb's opinions trump mine in your eyes."
Jon frowned. "That sounds a lot like another wrongdoing you are laying at my feet."
"You misunderstand me. I am honoured that you care this much for my son. I just need to hear you promise me that you will no longer use him to forge an alliance to consolidate your rule."
Jon didn't respond right away. His mind was racing in an attempt to determine what the best course of action was here. Once more he wished for Davos' presence. His uncle used his silence to press for the answer he wanted.
"Now that we have successfully put you on the throne, as his father and Warden of the North, I reclaim the right to choose a bride for my heir."
Again Jon took his time to react. He was proud that he stayed calm when he finally spoke up. "I could betroth him to Lady Shireen of House Baratheon, you know, or to Princess Arianne of House Martell for that matter. The Stormlands and Dorne have not declared for me yet." He shook his head. "But you should know me better than that, Uncle. I will of course respect your rights as his father. That said, know that I put my trust in you to keep Robb's wellbeing in mind. I would only ever try to interfere if I was convinced that you were about to make a decision that endangered Robb's life or forced him to wed a person that he absolutely hated. I can't see that happening anytime soon since I know that you love your son dearly and are a man of honour."
He knew this answer could also be construed as manipulative but he felt cornered. At first he had searched desperately for a valid reason to stall his answer. He had wanted to replay this entire conversation to Davos, perhaps to Dany as well before he gave his uncle his final decision. But in the end he had found no plausible reason to refuse his uncle this request. It was a reasonable request after all, when you forgot the manipulative way his uncle had steered the conversation. If Uncle Ned had not preyed on Jon's commiseration with his plight for the larger part of their discussion before coming out and stating his purpose, Jon wouldn't feel half as bad at having given in as he did now.
His uncle apparently having succeeded in what he came here to achieve was quick to get up. "Thank you, Jon. Then I will leave you to it. Perhaps there is still time to hold that small council meeting after all."
Jon nodded reluctantly. When he looked up again, his uncle had already left the room. Jon took a deep breath when the door fell shut. Now that there were no witnesses a frustrated scowl appeared on his face. He had been right. His uncle had only come to him with a sole purpose and for once the always so honourable man had not been honest and straightforward in pursuing his goal. For that reason only, Jon had not been inclined to humour his uncle but had not seen a way around it. Now he had to put all his faith in the fact that Uncle Ned surely had the best interests of Robb and the North in mind. He could only pray that things would work out and that he was getting worked up over nothing.
Ghost had approached him the moment the door had closed after Ned Stark and lay down on the floor beside Jon's chair, his loyal red eyes soothing Jon's ache. He released a long shivering breath, llowered himself to the ground and embraced his direwolf. "Thank you, Ghost. At least I know you will always have my back." He knew he had to get up and continue with the rest of his obligations but granted himself a few more moments to compose himself.
"Your Grace?"
Jon must have missed the knock since Davos stood in the doorway. He slowly released his grip on Ghost but stayed silent.
"Did something happen? Ser Gerold informed me that Prince Stark acted strange and seemed in a hurry when he left your chamber."
Jon turned his head rather abruptly toward Davos and lashed out. "Ser Gerold should be more discreet. Especially with all his talk about protocol and how a Kingsguard should behave."
"You are angry." Davos stated calmly. "And not with Ser Gerold but with your uncle most likely. I don't mean to pry, but know that I want nothing more than to help you. I am on your side, Jon."
Jon scrambled upright. "I know, Davos. I am gladder than ever that I chose you to be my Hand. You would not play me for a fool. You would just come out and ask what you wanted in a few simple words instead of leading me on and tricking me into going along with your wishes."
"Is that what happened?" Davos had seated himself in the chair where not so long ago his uncle had been seated.
Jon didn't respond.
"All right," Davos practical as always considered their options. "Are you calm enough to take rational decisions at the small council meeting or do we postpone till tomorrow?"
Jon took a deep breath. "Let this be at test for me. A sovereign needs to remain level headed and reasonable in all circumstances. Let's do this. Just give me some sign if I you believe I need to tone it down a little."
Davos put his hand on Jon's shoulder. "You'll do just fine, son. I am confident you can pull this off. And later, if you have worked through whatever happened in here, tell me. Or tell the Princess. It will make you feel better."
Jon managed a small grateful smile. "Thanks, Davos. I will tell you later today. You will need to know about it. You will be governing the Seven Kingdoms in my absence. I should keep no secrets from you."
aaa
Davos was glad that the young King had taken the time to explain exactly why he had been so frustrated after the conversation with his uncle when the both of them reconvened in Jon's study after lunch. It seemed strange that Lord Stark would corner his nephew like that. But he didn't question Jon's version of the conversation. The young man respected his uncle too much and would not belittle his character if it hadn't been true. Davos was disappointed in Eddard Stark. The man had played on the young King's compassion for Robb's ordeal and while the shock the Warden of the North must have felt when finally learning the sordid details must have been genuine, Stark had manipulated the situation to his advantage.
This entire thing could have been avoided easily. Davos was convinced that if the man had just come straight out and asked what he wanted, Jon would have given his uncle his wish without blinking. Perhaps his young King would still have added a small plea to try and take Robb's well- being into consideration if at all possible. The damage however was done. Now it would take some time for Jon to trust his uncle again.
He had also been rather surprised to learn that it had been Prince Oberyn that had taught the young King to be more wary of the motives of others, including his closest allies. Jon had revealed that he had come very close to missing the game his uncle had been playing until he had recalled a few pointers that Prince Oberyn had given him. One of them being 'be distrustful of anyone, friend or foe, who suddenly acts out of character'. Davos wished that Jon had found a way to stall a decision until he had been able to consult with him. However, in the end the outcome would probably have been the same. Perhaps they would have been able to put a few more conditions on the eligibility of a betrothal candidate for Robb but what it all came down to was still the same: they had to trust that Eddard Stark had the best interests of his son and the North in mind. He was Robb's father and Warden of the North after all.
Davos understood Lord Stark's frustration of having power taken away after ruling almost unchallenged for the better part of two decades but that was no excuse to use his nephew's compassion against him and manipulate him into complying. Davos was sure that Lord Stark would suffer the consequences the moment it dawned on him that he had demeaned himself in the eyes of the young King. For now, Davos needed to do some damage control.
He reminded Jon that despite the promise to his uncle, he could always stall or even veto a betrothal to Lady Margaery Tyrell by way of the punishment the Crown had inflicted on House Tyrell. Lady Margaery could only marry with the consent of King Aegon. Then he steered the conversation to possible betrothals for the King's other Stark cousins. Davos was on board with Edric Dayne for Sansa but startled when Jon uttered the option of considering pairing Gendry with Arya.
"Why would you want to repeat history? Force a wild wolf into a betrothal with a stag?" He had uttered bewilderedly.
"I wouldn't force them. I just mentioned this as a possibility. They get along fine. I realise that Arya is still young and likes him in an innocent way. If I would have to describe her feelings, I would say that she sees him more like a cousin or a trustworthy friend than a prospective husband, something akin to what she feels for me, I guess. Gendry on the other hand, I am sure that he likes her and that his feelings could develop into more if he let them."
"Still, you always describe your sister as too wild and unwilling to become a Lady that has to run a household and produce babies." His strategy worked. His counterargument had made his young King more animated. The young man had momentarily forgotten his earlier disappointment and was defending his point of view with fervour.
"But that is exactly why Gendry is perfect for her. Don't you see, Davos? In the eyes of House Stark, he is eligible. He is the heir to Storm's End. They both are members of a house that governs a Kingdom on behalf of the Iron Throne. They have equal status. But in reality, Lord Renly is only a few years older than Gendry and will run Storm's End and rule the Stormlands for most of Gendry's lifetime, perhaps even longer. Gendry and Arya would be free to live their lives. They could travel the realm, visit Essos, do whatever catches their fancy."
"When you put it that way, it does indeed look like a fine match for her. But if you want my advice, don't mention it to Princess Arya just yet, son. It might do more harm than good."
"You do not have to tell me that." Jon smiled, remembering he had used almost the exact same words during his talk with his uncle yesterday. "I know that all too well. Now if you don't mind, I still have some other things to take care of."
"All right. My job here is done anyway. I got you smiling at least once." He touched Jon's shoulder and Jon nodded. A small smile still lingered on his face when Davos closed the door behind him. Davos had worked his magic once more. Jon felt a lot better and ready to tackle the remainder of the day. He would also heed Davos' advice and give his uncle some time to realise it was up to him to take the first step and clear the air between them.
aaa
Jon and Daenerys rode out of the gates of the Red Keep behind a large contingent of guards that all carried flags with the King's personal Targaryen sigil even if several of them were Stark men dressed in grey and black.
The three Kingsguards together with Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah rode close to the royal couple. They were striking in their new armour and coats. Ser Gerold had donned his white cloak edged in gold. Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell wore the familiar white cloak and their new armour also bore the personal sigil of their King, a three headed dragon complete with direwolf head. Ser Barristan wore a garment that had not been seen in Westeros for some time, the famed half red and half black coat with a white three headed dragon on the back and on the breast, the cloak was edged in silver proclaiming him as the head of the future Queen's Dragonguard. Ser Jorah wore a similar cloak only with the omission of the silver lining.
Behind them followed two rows of candidates currently in training for a position in the royal guard. They were all dressed as befitted the members of the royal guard. Today was the first of many tests they needed to pass before officially being offered the position. Next up were a large number of nobles. Befitting their rank, Prince Oberyn and both Stark Princes rode side by side, in front of many rows of noble Lords and Ladies from all over Westeros. These made up the larger part of the procession. They were also on horseback and proudly displayed the colourful banners of their houses making it a sight to be seen. The tail end of the procession consisted of squires and servants who followed on foot and would cater to the needs of their masters during the day.
Everyone was dressed up for the occasion. Even if King Aegon and his betrothed drew most of the attention, many eyes lingered on the famed Kingsguards and their shiny new armour and cloaks. Loud cheers rang out and everyone was smiling. The Kingsguard kept their faces serious, their eyes scanning the crowd diligently for any sign of a threat.
Lord Royce could be proud of what he had accomplished. Everything was proceeding exactly as planned. Everywhere Targaryen banners flew on buildings. All along the broader streets large poles had been erected for the occasion and the black and red banners of House Targaryen waved in the wind marking the route the procession needed to travel all the way to the square before the Sept of Baelor. Everywhere that it had been allowed, smallfolk lined the streets and the children waved the little red and black flags that had been distributed amongst them.
The smallfolk that had tried to keep to their normal occupations and had not been waiting patiently for their King and Queen to arrive, couldn't help but overhear the enthusiastic reactions of the crowd. Many belatedly stopped what they were doing and hurried outside in an effort to still catch a glimpse of the grand spectacle that exceeded everyone's expectations. Those who succeeded in their endeavour, found themselves admiring their new King and future Queen without having intended to do so. Slowly the large procession approached the royal tribune that had been erected for the joust on the wide steps before the Sept of Bailor.
The High Septon stately descended from the many steps and welcomed the King and his betrothed. Jon and Dany did not dismount yet. Next to the Septon, they halted close to their ceremonial chairs and watched the competitors ride up and make two orderly rows before the grand stand. King Aegon held a short speech from atop his horse, the Septon blessed the occasion and the Princess had the last word, wishing good fortune to all contenders. One by one the participants made their way past the royal couple and formally bowed before leaving the courtyard to prepare. Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur flanked the King's left side and Jon gave them a sympathetic smile knowing full well that in normal circumstances they would have been part of the large group that was parading before them eager to compete.
"Next year." He murmured under his breath. "Better start choosing who you will crown as your Queen of Beauty then." They struggled to keep a serious mien. Ser Gerold, positioned some distance away had caught Jon's lips moving and shook his head. Jon merely raised one eyebrow, dismounted gracefully and then quickly made sure he was first in line to help Dany off her horse. He formally put his hand on her elbow and led her to the seats that stood out enough to be obvious that they were meant for the royal couple. The Septon took his place next to the future Queen and Jon was relieved to notice that it was Davos who took the free seat next to him. A lot of shuffling and organising ensued but soon enough everyone who had been granted a seat in the royal stands had found his rightful place.
Lord Royce gave the signal and three trumpeters whose instruments had been decorated with Targaryen banners played a short tune heralding the start of the competition. Then Jon rose and clapped his hands as previously instructed and two competitors entered the tilt yard. The first round of the joust had officially gotten underway. Halfway through proceedings Jon started to get bored. He only knew half of the men competing and wasn't really rooting for anyone in particular. It also took some time between the conclusions of each joust and the appearance of the next contestants. Still it would not do to be seen yawning or looking bored. He smiled at Dany and they struck up conversation that halted each time the next competitors appeared and resumed it again when the winner left the stands to make place for the other participants.
He was relieved when Lord Royce signalled that it was time to leave for the Dragonpit. A prearranged group of nobles left the courtyard to make their way toward the Dragonpit for the opening ceremony of the melee. Jon smiled ruefully at Dany who had confessed to him earlier that her cheeks hurt from smiling the entire time. There was little chance for any meanful interaction let alone to touch one another even though they were in each other's company for most of the day. Jon looked forward to their nightly discussion even if there was a chance that they would both be half asleep before they could retire to her chambers. After the opening ceremony of the melee, they still had the formal banquet to suffer through that was sure to last most of the evening and night.
He steered his horse closer to Dany. "Just four more days." He whispered. "And then you're mine and I am yours."
Dany smiled back. "Four long days and long nights, however will I get through them?" She blew him a kiss.
Jon laughed and turned his attention back to the crowds whose cheers had increased when the saw the affectionate gesture of the Princess. He waved and the cheers picked up again. The smallfolk were totally on board it seemed. It was as if nobody remembered the Baratheon King even if his reign had ended only ten days ago.
It was a sobering lesson to be remembered, Jon pondered. His own reign was still very precarious. They had not been acknowledged by all of the Kingdoms yet. How little would it take for the smallfolk to forget them as well and cheer for someone else? Jon tried to put these thoughts out of his mind. He had promised to forget all about politics until after his honeymoon. They had discussed the acceptance of the new monarchy by the smallfolk at their small council meeting this morning even though the meeting had only been meant to skim briefly over the pending topics.
But as with everything, plans and intentions were just that. Reality always caught up with him and this meeting had also turned out to last longer than expected. They had eaten their lunch in the council chamber. It was the only way they still had been able to make it to the opening ceremony on time. While all these thoughts circled in his mind, Jon kept smiling and waving until they reached the Dragonpit. He had to play his part. Today the nobles and smallfolk needed the presence of their King and future Queen. And Jon had been raised to be dutiful.
After Jon and Dany had acquitted themselves flawlessly of their part in the ceremony and the demonstrations had gotten well underway, he allowed his mind to wander once more. So far all was well in King's Landing. The smallfolk had accepted them and had cheered loudly. Jon felt as if the Gods were truly with him. Even flashes of his meeting with Uncle Ned couldn't spoil his mood. All things considered, he was proud of his achievements. His uncle had tried to play him and Jon had seen right through it. Now that he had calmed down, he was only left with a lingering feeling of disappointment in the behaviour of his uncle.
He had trusted Eddard Stark unconditionally up until now and had always looked up to him. For sure he knew that Uncle Ned was only human and had his share of flaws and shortcomings but he had never expected his uncle to use his nephew's weakness against him. Uncle Ned had preyed on Jon's compassionate nature and esteem for his uncle. Jon was very appreciative of Prince Oberyn's lessons now. They had seemed rather excessive at the time but they had helped him see through his uncle's scheme. He would never tell Prince Oberyn of this particular instance though. His uncle was still pack. Davos had already assured him of his discretion. Ghost would not tell anyone either. However his direwolf would not forgive and forget that easily. Ghost had growled when Uncle Ned had walked past him when everyone had left the small council room and entered the hallway where Ghost had been patrolling. Dany had given him a questioning look and he knew he would have to explain things to her later.
aaa
The tournament was in full swing and the days flew by. Everything was going smoothly. Messages kept arriving by the dozens and were predominantly positive ones. The list of Lords that announced their intent to swear allegiance grew daily. Aside from the expected absence of a response from the Stormlands and the fact that there was still no official news from Dorne, the only real disturbance had been his encounter and subsequent audience with Lady Olenna of House Tyrell.
The Queen of Thornes had accosted him on the second day of the tournament while he was walking back to his quarters after attending the afternoon session of the joust. She had dragged her son, Lord Mace Tyrell along but the poor man had clearly looked embarrassed by the forward behaviour of his mother.
Jon realising that his Hand, Lord Davos Seaworth had officially informed her the day before of the way her House had been punished for their past behaviour and recent one-sided breaking of the long standing trade agreement between the Reach and the Crown, had quickly come to a decision.
Choosing his words with care he had agreed to a meeting with the head of her House later that day. And as if it were a mere afterthought he had added in a magnanimous manner that if Lady Tyrell insisted, he would on this occasion allow her to be present at the meeting as well.
Instead of playing into her hand and letting the formidable Queen of Thorns corner a young King, Jon had surprised her with the presence of his Hand and Prince Oberyn during her precious private audience. Before House Tyrell had been able to open the discussion, Jon had started the conversation by reiterating the terms Davos had read to them yesterday, namely that House Tyrell was only permitted to keep their position of Lord Paramount if they adhered to the restrictions he had put on them for now. These were non-negotiable. He had added that as an act of good faith from the Crown and in case that House Tyrell caused no further trouble, the King agreed to be present at the wedding of Lord Willas and Lady Myrcella to show the realm that the crown bore House Tyrell no ill will.
To further soothe Mace Tyrell he had added that he had the utmost respect for both his sons and that he was certain that relations between the Reach and the Crownlands would improve once again if after his wedding, House Tyrell allowed Lord Willas to become the spokesman for all dealings between House Tyrell and the Crown. It would be in the interest of all parties that the wedding of the heir to the Reach took place as soon as possible.
Lady Olenna had avoided looking at Prince Oberyn's smug face and for once had let her son speak for House Tyrell. In his pompous manner her son had reassured the young King that House Tyrell would be honoured to have his Grace, King Aegon as a guest of honour at the upcoming wedding and of course they would do as his Grace commanded in all matters. The man then once more apologized for past events and stressed that everything that had happened had been largely exaggerated and had been mostly caused by miscommunications. Of course House Tyrell had always been loyal to House Targaryen and would serve them to the best of their ability in future. Neither Lord Mace Tyrell nor Lady Olenna had dared to allude to a possible betrothal with House Stark, the King's closest family.
Whatever Lady Olenna had intended to achieve during this audience Jon would never learn. It didn't matter anymore. House Tyrell had gotten the message loud and clear. There was no chance of either lifting the betrothal of their heir or the appointment of Loras Tyrell to his Kingsguard. Trade agreements had been rephrased to make them watertight. Lady Margaery could only enter a betrothal if he sanctioned it and he had let Davos make it clear yesterday that whatever they tried, the King would never bow to blackmail.
Davos had managed to speak for a few moments with Lady Olenna alone and had warned her that for every malicious rumour that House Tyrell started, they would start ten others to discredit House Tyrell. All the guards that could potentially witness untoward behaviour of the young King were loyal to house Targaryen and nobody would believe Lady Olenna's word against the unblemished reputation of the young King. The Queen of Thorns had been silenced. In Jon's eyes however that hadn't been nearly enough. He had needed all his self-control to stay polite when addressing the woman who had tried to weaken Dany with poison to prevent her from appearing in public and had tried to shame him into forsaking his betrothed and force him into a marriage with her granddaughter. That was the reason why he had relied on Davos to inform the Queen of Thorns of the punishments he had devised for House Tyrell yesterday instead of communicating the terms to her personally.
All in all, the private audience had been a short one and afterward a smug Prince Oberyn had stayed behind to congratulate the young King on how well he had handled Lady Olenna.
"It helps if you have royal authority and everyone has pledged to obey me." Jon had downplayed his role.
"Still, she couldn't even get a word in. I think I underestimated you once again, Aegon. That or my lessons have already taken root. My presence was not needed here after all. Still it was very satisfying to be a silent spectator. I have never seen her as powerless as these last few sennights. I loved the way you punished House Tyrell without repercussion to anyone else but the Queen of Thorns. House Tyrell will thrive as much as ever. But she has lost face in front of the entire court. As soon as that gets out, her days of intimidating people into doing her bidding are all but over."
"Now you are just complimenting yourself," Jon had answered lightly. "I merely adapted a few of the ideas of possible punishments you planted ever so subtly in my head."
"Only the ones you deemed fit. You made an adequate selection." Oberyn had studied the young King. "You didn't let on a thing at the time. I thought I had gotten away with it." He had remarked his tone clearly indicating that his statement was meant as yet another compliment.
"I had a first rate teacher and have been told that I am a quick study." But Jon's smile had disappeared from his face.
"I take it you have found deceit were you did not expect it." Oberyn had given him a knowing look.
"If you know something, then keep it to yourself. I still hope to get that relationship back on track." He had warned his Dornish friend.
"And you will succeed in that, Aegon. I have the utmost confidence in you."
"Then you can join Davos in my personal cheering squad," he had teased to hide how moved he had been by this show of faith. Then he had turned serious all of a sudden. "Oberyn? Shouldn't we have heard from your brother by now?"
Prince Oberyn expression had darkened instantly and a large frown had appeared on his forehead. "We should have. I am starting to get worried. Something is off. At the very least he would have sent me his thoughts on the political changes. But I have not heard a whisper. I wonder whether something has happened in Dorne. The most plausible explanation is that someone is sabotaging the ravens. I'll talk to Varys again to determine the fastest way to get reliable news from Sunspear."
"Please do. It will be dangerous enough that Baratheons and Greyjoys are possibly forging an alliance against us. If Dorne should join them, we will have a substantial Rebellion to put down."
"I refuse to believe that my brother would go that far. I can't be this wrong. I am sure there is a plausible explanation for his silence. And don't fear. Dorne will never turn against you. I told you of the contingencies I have in place. But I will take personal action and get to the bottom of this. I'll leave this instant and I will not return until I have a satisfying answer for you, Aegon."
"Then you'll miss the final stages of the tournament."
"Fuck the tournament. The best warriors are not competing anyway."
"True," Jon had mocked, "because that would be you, if only you had trained. But then you didn't. So,"
"So it would be you, oh gracious King, if only you didn't get stabbed. But then you did get stabbed."
"Will you enter the list next year if you know the date well in advance?" Jon had asked the Dornish Prince.
"Only if you enter as well." Prince Oberyn had smiled deviously. "But then, Ser Gerold would never allow you to put your esteemed royal life in danger. And nobody would dare to actually try his best against their King."
Jon had shaken his head in mock disapproval and signalled his surrender.
Prince Oberyn had stopped their banter and switched to a more serious tone. "I will be sorry to miss your wedding, Aegon. It is unlikely I will be back by then. Please relay my heartfelt excuses to your bride-to-be." He bowed formally before Jon could react. "I take my leave of you and will return only if I can lay Dorne's allegiance at your feet, your Grace."
"No matter what happens, you will always be welcome and be considered a trusted friend and ally of the Crown and me personally, Prince Oberyn. Don't stay away if things do not go as you planned. Return to help me craft a solution. The royal court wouldn't be the same without you."
The Prince had stayed solemn but Jon had witnessed a little twist at the left corner of the Prince's mouth betraying that Oberyn had been moved by his words. Another bow and then the Dornish Prince had quickly turned around and left the room.
aaa
The third day of the tournament Varys had managed to claim the seat next to the King. Jon had seen Uncle Benjen's disappointed look but had gestured to him that they would speak later. He had barely managed to supress a sigh. There were always so many conversations he needed or wanted to hold and so little time in which to do so. He remembered complaining of that very fact to Ser Arthur this morning. He had called the knight to come inside when he needed to adjust a piece of his ceremonial armour.
"You are the King now. Everyone vies for your attention." The loyal Kingsguard had responded simply. Don't think this transition is easy for us either. We all find ourselves in unchartered territory. It was second nature to stay formal in the presence of the Mad King, guarding you is…" He shook his head. "How do I formulate this? Not only is it difficult to act so distant all the time, it is also more stressful. We are much more personally involved. Even though we were honour bound to the other King we served, our uh my feelings would be much more engaged if you came to harm. The stakes are much higher, thus we are more on edge."
"And when you guarded my father?" Jon asked doing his utmost not to react too obviously to the emotion visible on Ser Arthur's face. He needed all his self-control to refrain from pulling the knight into a hug. "He was your friend, was he not? Did you not experience the same difficulty with him?"
"You forget, my young King, your father was never our King and was relatively safe on Dragonstone most of the time. He stayed away from Court as much as he could. Things were more relaxed on Dragonstone. His safety was much easier to arrange."
"I hope things will get easier here, particularly when the Kingsguard will count seven members again."
Ser Arthur fastened his armour. "And when you finally appoint a manservant or a squire, which hopefully will happen soon." He playfully nudged Jon's shoulder. "There, all done."
Jon was called back to the present by loud cheers of the public when a joust ended in victory for a knight from the Vale and got him through to the last eight. Luckily Lord Varys stayed silent during the first half and Jon and Dany spoke a little during the time gaps between the jousts. Therefore it came as a surprise when Varys addressed him all of a sudden.
"This is a nice show for the people. They are reminded that they owe fealty to their King and can forget their worries for a while. That is easier to do that when they see the man that you are."
"Don't speak in riddles, Lord Varys. What worries are you alluding to? I thought the smallfolk were mostly content. Supply routes have stayed open during the transition and food prices are under control once more."
"That they are, your Grace. I was just making a harmless comment."
Jon looked at him skeptically but was obliged to remain quiet since the next contestants rode onto the field. When after three attempts the winner of this round was decided, Jon turned his head back to his Master of Whispers.
"You had a reason to choose this seat, I presume?"
"Indeed, your Grace. And I will oblige you by coming straight to the point. I heard you prefer that. Rumours amongst the servants have multiplied. You should consider making use of a manservant or a squire. Things are escalating."
"You are kidding surely. How can a small detail like this become a matter of such importance?"
"You are hurting the reputation of your Kingsguard. More in particular Ser Arthur's. Vile rumours are popping up. It won't be long before Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold suffer the same abuse."
"Can't you counter them? Replace them with something else?"
"Your Grace, it would take such a small effort on your side to remedy the situation and improve the reputation of your most loyal men. I never thought that the day would come that I would accuse you of being selfish."
Jon held his breath for a moment and counted to ten before he reacted. Was Varys right? Had he just stubbornly refused to change his own habits to the detriment of others? He turned his head towards his master of Whispers having come to a decision. "Who is best placed to present me with suitable candidates? Ones I can trust and who can tolerate the presence of my direwolf?"
Varys nodded approvingly. "I'll send a boy to you before supper. Just a temporary solution but you can trust him with your life, your Grace. Of course you are free to find a more suitable candidate. How about taking two younger sons of noble houses as your squires? Why not choose them from loyal families from Dragonstone or the Driftmark. That would be a welcome solution to all parties. If you appoint two, they can alternate duties and will not overextend themselves."
"I'll confer with Davos. Perhaps also with Ser Gerold since it would fall mostly to one of his men to give these boys sword fighting lessons and teach them other skills they need to learn if I chose to appoint squires instead of a manservant. Thank you, Lord Varys. You have my permission to send the boy to me."
Lord Varys inclined his head and both men focused on the newly arrived contestants.
"What was that all about?" Dany whispered when another knight had bitten the dust.
"Apparently I have been remiss and need to stop using my esteemed Kingsguard as manservants." Jon whispered back. "Don't worry. Our marriage is still on."
She smiled at his teasing words. "Only two more nights." She answered softly and the smile fell from his face, his eyes growing darker all of a sudden.
"Two excruciating, long, lonesome nights and I can't even take your hand in mine right now to comfort me without having Ser Gerold stare at us in a disapproving manner."
"And here I thought I was marrying a brave King. At least there is no banquet tonight and we can retire early. You can hold my hand then and more." She grabbed his hand and after making sure nobody had noticed, she caressed his palm with her thumb.
"Minx," he accused her, his eyes almost as black as his pupils.
"Pay attention," she whispered, "this is the last joust for the day."
And Jon did pay attention to the contestants. Anything to ignore the stare of disapproval Ser Gerold was certain to cast their way otherwise.
aaa
On this third day of the tournament, the last two contestants for the joust for that day took to the field shortly before noon. The melee was scheduled for the afternoon. The third and final group of competitors would enter the arena to determine which two fighters would prevail and gain a place amongst the victors of the previous sessions in the final tomorrow.
Jon and Dany had decided to forego the melee today. They had already skipped one appointment with the dragons. Davos Seaworth and both Stark Princes would represent them in the stands. It was more important that the King and future Queen bore witness to the final fight tomorrow so they could formally congratulate the winners and present them with their gains.
This year it had been proclaimed that the winner of the melee as well as the runner up would take part in a final demonstration. They would be issued an additional challenge. It would not affect their status as victors nor their winnings. They would still be heralded as the official champion and vice champion of this year's tournament. However they would be asked to take part in one last bout, an extra treat for the crowds. The King had decreed that this year, Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell of the Kingsguard would challenge the champion and the runner up. The crowd had cheered loudly when Lord Royce's voice had boomed over the courtyard to announce this surprise addition on the first day of the tournament. The crowd had cheered loudly and the competitors seemed more determined than ever to prevail and have the opportunity to test their skills against one of these two legendary knights.
Because his Kingsguard was severely understaffed, Jon had needed to concede that they would have to forego the normal competition. If not, they would have been unavailable to guard their King for the larger part of four days. Sam had come up with this solution which had negated each argument Ser Gerold had uttered. This way, the famous knights could still demonstrate their skill and would only need to leave their King for a small part of the afternoon on the final day of the tournament. Jon had promised them that next year things would be different and that they would be allowed to enter both competitions if they so wished.
Yohn Royce steered his horse next to the King's when they returned to the Red Keep for luncheon. Jon nodded to the proud Lord Regent of the Vale. "I said it before but it is worth repeating. You did a wonderful job, Lord Royce."
"Thank you, your Grace. I am happy as well to see that everything has fallen into place. It has been a challenge. Next year though, I suggest adding an archery competition. I received many request in that regard. It is true that over the last few years, some tournaments have started to include that discipline."
The Blackfish chose that moment to manoeuvre his horse to the other side of the King. Dany for once rode behind him next to Lady Ashara Dayne and his uncle Benjen.
Jon nodded to the man. They had spoken shortly during the joust but not after Ser Lucas Corbray a young knight of the Vale had taken to the field. "Ser Brynden, what did you think of the victory of young Ser Lucas? Do you think he might have a chance to become this year's champion?"
Unrestrained pride for the young knight that he had helped train now showed on the elder man's face. "I certainly do. That young man has tremendous skill with the lance and is an accomplished rider. He will have to keep his nerve though when he goes up against men with a lot more experience tomorrow. It will be interesting to learn against which contender he is drawn first."
"Indeed. Are you enjoying your time in the capital?" Jon asked.
"It has been all right. A bit more eventful than I had anticipated, if you don't mind my saying." The Blackfish smiled, showing he didn't mean any disrespect by alluding to the unexpected abdication of Robert Baratheon and a young Targaryen ascending the throne.
While Jon shook his head, the Blackfish moved his horse closer so he could lower his voice and still be heard. "I will be leaving soon though. My elder brother, Lord Hoster of House Tully is ailing and his son Edmure, my nephew, seems to have trouble ruling the Riverlands. I hate to speak so of my closest kin, but my nephew will never become a great ruler. I advised my brother years ago to make him marry a strong lady that knows how to run a keep and can assist her husband, one capable enough to take over the reins if need be."
"Did you have candidates in mind when you counselled him? House Mormont immediately comes to mind when I look for ladies with such qualifications. Did you discuss this with Prince Eddard Stark? It is his good-brother you are talking about."
"Not yet, no. Until a few moons ago, the situation was not that dire. Hoster was still well enough to keep his son in line. Most likely Prince Stark does not know just how uh incompetent the Tully heir actually is. I beg your pardon, your Grace but my nephew Edmure gets under my skin. It is me, his bannermen have been pestering lately, urging me to step in and do something."
"Just let me know if you need my influence. But if I were you, I would talk to Eddard Stark first and drop the idea of betrothing your nephew with a lady of House Mormont. I am sure he will help you negotiate with them if he also favours the idea."
Ser Brynden inclined his head. "I will certainly consider this suggestion, your Grace. You might have handed us an excellent solution."
Jon just nodded his head in acknowledgment of the compliment and the rest of the way they spoke little and only of inconsequential matters. Jon couldn't help but hope that his uncle would recognise this gesture in the way that Jon intended, that is a subtle way to reach out to him and prove that despite their temporarily embroiled relationship, Jon still had the best interest of the North in mind.
aaa
On his way to the beach with Dany and Ghost, they speculated on how much coin Oberyn would have put on Ser Arthur's chances of trashing the winner of the melee, had the Prince been able to attend. Dany had just laughed and argued that nobody would have been foolish enough take that bet.
When they returned to the Red Keep after an uneventful flight on Rhaegal with Viserion staying in close formation, Jon left Dany at the base of the staircase and proceeded to his own room on the ground floor. Not only a young boy stood waiting patiently before his door but his uncle Benjen was there as well. Jon motioned to Ghost to stay put for a moment longer and smiled encouragingly at the boy. "What's your name?"
"Cyrus, your Grace."
"Well then Cyrus, first you need to meet my direwolf. If your heart is true, then you do not need to be scared. He has impeccable instincts and his only desire is to protect me. As long as you mean me no harm and you don't steal anything, he will be your best friend. Ready to go inside so I can introduce you?"
The young boy swallowed. "Yes, your Grace."
"Uncle, you can come in as well. As soon as I have changed out of these clothes, I can dismiss the boy and we can have some private time."
"Yes, your Grace." His uncle eyes teased him. But Jon didn't notice keeping his eyes on Ghost. His wolf immediately approached the small stranger.
"Just stand still and let him sniff you." Jon advised and watched approvingly how Cyrus bravely stood his ground. Satisfied, Jon gave Ghost a compelling look and the wolf bowed his head and moved to his usual place in the corner.
"See, that was not so bad, was it? Now I'd be grateful if you would help me out of these boots."
aaa
"I see you have a boy-servant instead of a manservant." His uncle teased him as soon as Cyrus had left them.
"Temporarily. I intend to go for a more acceptable solution and will take on two young squires. They can alternate duties so they don't overextend themselves. Varys advised me to choose younger sons from a noble house in the Crownlands, more specifically from Dragonstone or the Driftmark."
"I can't fault that advice. Then you finally heard the rumours, eh."
"Not exactly but I can imagine." Jon dismissed the subject. "Now what brings you here, Uncle? Don't tell me you have fallen out with the Lady Ashara."
His uncle startled. "What makes you say that?"
"Not me, actually. It was an observation that Dany made. She says you avoid speaking to Lady Ashara if at all possible. The poor Lady told Dany that she doesn't know what she has done to offend you. I reckoned perhaps she was trying to spare you by concealing a fight between the two of you?"
"We did not fight. I just do not seek her company." He sighed. "It is complicated, Jon."
"It seems that every issue involving this Lady and House Stark is being kept a secret from me. Can you tell me why that is?"
"I'd rather not. She and Dany are close. You and Dany are close. It would get back to her eventually."
"What would get back? That you don't like her? I think she got that message loud and clear already. You don't have to like her to be civil to her, Uncle." Jon took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down again. Antagonising his uncle was not the best strategy.
"You don't understand, Jon. It is not that simple." His uncle shook his head and looked unsettled.
"Then uncomplicate it. Either just be civil to her when you can't avoid each other or have an honest conversation with her to clear the air." Jon made sure to sound encouraging instead of accusing.
"I have been doing the first, Jon. Apparently not well enough. I am not a ladies' man, not when I was younger and certainly not now. This only proves it again." His eyes implored his nephew to drop the subject.
Jon decided to change to comply. "If it was not to talk about House Dayne, then I am still curious as to what brought you to my doorstep."
"Did you and my brother have a falling out? I might be avoiding Lady Ashara but you and my brother have not been seen smiling at each other either."
"So I need to work on keeping up appearances as well." Jon's offhand remark only made his uncle raise his eyebrow and stay silent.
"We did have an uh disappointing discussion but rest assured, it had nothing to do with you. Uncle Ned did something uh a bit unworthy and I kind of called him out on it. He'll come around soon enough. But he will not if he learns that I talked to all and sundry about it. I do not want him to lose face, Uncle Benjen."
"And there is no way this is merely a misunderstanding, Jon? What you are hinting at here is hard to fathom."
"That's why it took me a while to catch on. He played me to get me to give in on an issue I would have granted him if he had asked me up front anyway. There, I said more than I intended already. Don't let on that I told you anything. I can't bear the thought of not patching things up with him before my wedding."
"What if I sent for him and you talked it out right here and now?"
"It doesn't work that way, Uncle. Just let us be. I'm sure we'll make up soon enough. I only hope this won't spoil my wedding day."
"Not if I can help it." Benjen grumbled and Ghost raised his head suddenly more alert.
"Let's change the subject." Jon's calm voice had an immediate effect on his uncle as well as on Ghost who settled his head on his front legs again and closed his eyes. "Did you rehearse the lines a father of the groom needs to say before the Seven?"
Benjen smiled now. "That one tiny sentence? Just see that you have the sequence of your lines down. You have the larger role to play, my boy."
Jon's eyes grew soft. "I rehearsed with Dany. She stood in for the Septon. We laughed so hard that I am sure that those stupid lines will be etched in my memory for the rest of my days."
"I am rather looking forward to the wedding in the Godswood myself. Did you know that Prince Oberyn has a bet going on whether you'll consummate the wedding that night or the next?"
Jon's expression gave nothing away. "And what do you think?" He asked mysteriously.
"Oh, I don't think, I know." When Jon raised his eyebrow, his uncle added. "At least I think I know." And both men burst out laughing.
"Is there nobody who believes we already anticipated our wedding vows? We had ample opportunity." Jon puffed out his chest.
"Servants who make the beds know such things, my boy. This means that Varys knows, which means at the very least that Prince Oberyn knows as well since those two rascals started the betting pool and only gave us these two choices. Besides, I know you are too honourable to do more than give her a kiss and steal an innocent touch before you have the blessing of the Old Gods. That bad boy routine won't fool anyone."
"And how will you decide who won the bet? What if I bribed the servants now that I am in the know?"
"Varys will still know. And I will only need to look at your face during the ceremony in the Sept, my dearest nephew." Benjen stated with renewed confidence.
"And for this conversation I skipped the melee." Jon shook his head. "What in the name of the Old Gods do I tell Dany?"
Benjen chuckled. "That we rehearsed my one line as father of the groom since I am not familiar with the Seven Pointed Star."
Jon smiled and shook his head again. "Yeah, as if she'll believe that."
aaa
Later that night in Dany's bedroom
"What did you talk about, Aegon?"
There was the dreaded question. Either he told the truth or took the only way out that their pact offered him, that is to declare truthfully that he'd rather not say but then he was obliged to motivate why. They had promised each other honesty. Somehow the decision came easier than he had anticipated. This was Dany and he had nothing to be embarrassed about.
"Several things. We briefly discussed his behaviour to Lady Ashara and the cooling of relations between me and Uncle Ned. Uncle Benjen also mentioned that there is a bet going as to when we will couple for the first time."
"I am rather interested to heart the answer to that last one." Her small hand cupped his cheek. "You have proven rather capable at resisting my charms."
Jon rolled her over so he lay on top of her. I am a man of honour and I promised Ser Mmph."
Dany captured his lips and her hand found the back of his neck so she could keep him from lifting his head. They were both gasping for breath when she finally released him. "Ever think they are very devious, these knights that are guarding us? Letting you come here in my bedroom and still expecting us not to oh" This time her speech was interrupted by a gasp of pleasure. Aegon was gyrating his hips and putting pressure on a spot between her legs that already tingled after their passionate kisses. "Oh," she moaned. "That feels so good."
"Imagine doing this without our clothes on." He groaned. "I am going to spoil my breeches if I don't stop."
To her dismay she felt him move and position himself next to her. "Aegon," she moaned when she felt his hand taking over and mimicking the pressure his lower body had been administrating between her legs. "Oh," she gasped in surprise once more when she felt his hand wriggle its way under her smallclothes.
"Shhh, relax." He told her before his mouth smothered any sound she could think to make when she felt his fingers rub a very sensitive spot. He swallowed every gasp and urged her to relax once more when she stiffened the muscles in her legs. Sweat pearls appeared on her forehead but the predominant feeling was pleasure when she could no longer control her body and felt herself start shivering. Some sort of tension was building up inside now and just when she felt that she could no longer stand it, the feeling exploded and she experienced such extreme heights of pleasure that her mind went blank. She had never imagined a feeling like this to exist.
Aegon stilled his caresses but she was barely aware of what was happening. He pulled her close and kissed her softly. When she could finally look him in the eyes again she saw that he was very pleased with what had happened.
"That was a little something to tide you over until we really consummate our marriage, my love."
"Did you feel pleasure as well?" She barely got the words out. Her mind was still reeling from the new experience. Aegon took her hand and guided it to his breeches. She felt a clammy spot. "Your released your seed?" Her eyes grew big.
"I did. You were so irresistible when the pleasure overtook your body. I couldn't help myself. There is no way my guards will miss this when they accompany me back to my room."
"What if you stayed here until it got a chance to dry up? Or you can pull your cloak tighter, or"
He interrupted her with a short kiss. "They will smell it, Dany. Don't you smell us?"
"Then refresh yourself. There is still a bowl of water in my dressing room. You can open a window as well. Don't give in this easily. This is a private moment between us. Let them bet and speculate. The least you can do is trying. For me?"
He smiled. "For you, my love, anything. Just give me another moment so I can be sure that my legs will carry me."
A bit later Jon's back rested against the headboard of her bed, Dany was neatly tucked in his arms her back to his chest. They had put a cloth on his lap so his wet breeches wouldn't soil her nightgown. He tucked his chin on her shoulders. "Do you remember my promise to you?" He asked quietly.
Dany didn't reply but he could almost hear her thinking. She stayed silent.
"I promised to tell you something before our wedding day. So I need to do this tonight. As you know, I will consider us man and wife as soon as we have said our vows before the heart tree tomorrow night."
She repositioned herself slightly so she needn't strain her neck too much when she looked at him. "Are you ready to do so, Aegon? I would understand if you needed more time."
"I am ready, my love. But if you do not want to hear it now I am willing to postpone it." His voice sounded firm.
"Then tell me." She replied simply and resumed her former position. That way she couldn't monitor his face but she felt his presence and his warmth and knew it was probably easier this way for him. She listened carefully as he finally started to tell her what had happened beyond the Wall.
aaa
The next morning, Dany awoke feeling well rested. She did not remember Aegon leaving her but she did remember how close she had felt to him. Not only after he had touched her so intimately and given her such pleasure but also since he had finally told her all his fears and hopes. Even if part of his tale had been horrifying. She had long suspected the enemy to the north to be formidable and the fight to have been one to the death. Why else would he have found it so difficult to come to terms with it? However nothing could have prepared her for the horror she had felt when she had realised how close he had come to perishing several times.
She had fallen asleep while he had murmured reassurances in her ear and descriptions of all he was doing to protect the realm from a future attack. She was convinced she knew all of his secrets now. He had even revealed a few that he was not sharing with his small council just yet. She felt ready to marry him. Aegon had been right. They had needed to have that conversation before they said their vows. Now she would mean every syllable. She knew all of him, he was hers and she was his. They would be one flesh. She would take this man.
She smiled and felt a lingering feeling between her legs where he had touched her last night. He had promised to give her such pleasure often and had persuaded her that she must not be shy but instead be honest about this as well. He would always be considerate of her wishes. If she wanted for him to touch her more often than he offered or if she didn't feel like it when he initiated a coupling, she would only have to say the word. She had whispered back that that went both ways and that they would find a compromise if their desires happened to differ.
Irri entered her room and Dany hardly registered her presence. Her handmaid just smiled when she caught her daydreaming and announced that it would be a memorable day. For the most part, the day went by in a haze. Aegon sat next to her at breakfast and held her hand under the table. They visited the dragons in the morning since the afternoon was reserved for the final bouts of the joust and next they would move to the Dragonpit where the six finalists of the melee who would fight for the honour of facing the two Kingsguards.
She had smiled dutifully when the winner of the joust, a knight of the Vale had passed Lady Margaery only to crown Lady Roslin of House Frey as his Queen of Beauty. She had clapped enthusiastically when Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell had bested the winners of the melee after a breath-taking exhibition. She had been awed when next the two knights had faced each other. It had not been a fight with a winner but a demonstration of several fighting styles. Jon had smiled but Dany had been struck dumb, just like the rest of the audience. She was sure Varys would no longer report any more complaints coming from the new candidates. They would understand now why they had to go through such a harsh training routine without assurances that they would end up with a position in the royal guard. Those two knights had set the bar higher than ever and had shown to all present what it meant to be a Kingsguard for as far as fighting skills were concerned. She had been proud of Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell and had seen the sentiment mirrored in Jon's eyes.
Now she sat at the center of the high table in the Great Hall, clad in her new silver coloured gown next to her dream Prince who was actually a King and watched how the winner of the joust, Ser Lucas, a younger son of House Corbray claimed his dance with Lady Roslin of House Frey. Halfway through the song, Lord Royce gave the sign and the champion of the melee, Lord Edwyd Fossoway, a younger son from a noble house in the Reach, led the daughter of his Lord Paramount, Lady Margaery to the dance floor.
Aegon held her hand under the table. "We will leave when the first half of the ball is over and the musicians take a break."
She nodded. He had told her that before but she could feel that he was growing nervous and repeated it to reassure himself as much as her. He had expected Lord Reed, the foster father she had yet to meet and his nephew, Bran Stark to arrive today and he was starting to despair. She knew all too well that the ceremony tomorrow morning was only a show Aegon would suffer through to placate the nobles and the smallfolk. Even if Lord Reed turned up in time for the ceremony tomorrow, Aegon would still feel as if his foster father and cousin had missed their wedding.
The last notes of the opening dance trailed off and Dany motioned Aegon to rise. He gave her a small smile and together they started the applause that soon resounded throughout the Great Hall when everyone joined in. Then the musicians started to play the first notes of the second dance.
"Princess, would you do me the honour?" Jon bowed to her.
Dany smiled when she heard the formal words from the lips of her betrothed. She made a curtsey. "I gladly accept, your Grace." She tucked her hand in his elbow and followed him out on the dance floor. Silence fell over the hall. Dany smiled to herself. That would show Lady Margaery who truly held the admiration of the people of King's Landing. They executed the first part of their dance flawlessly and as prearranged, Aegon gestured to Lord Royce and several couples joined them. The ball had well and truly started.
Aegon danced the next one with Lady Ashara, who then led him from one suitable young lady to another, first Lady Shireen, then Lady Roslin, Lady Margaery and finally Lady Ilsa Ruthermont. Only after he had danced six consecutive dances did she give him permission to resume his seat. Dany was not that lucky. As a woman, you couldn't choose your dance partners and it was impolite to refuse, even after six consecutive dances. Luckily Uncle Benjen and Uncle Ned had both been able to secure a dance with her. Even though she had been a little apprehensive, Ned Stark had been very amiable and had praised his nephew. He had sounded sincere when he wished them a happy marriage. When she ventured that he should repeat that to Aegon as well, he had acquiesced with a serious expression and she had seen him keep Aegon company during her next two dances. Uncle Benjen came up to her when the music fell silent.
"Princess, would you like to join me on the balcony. I believe you might benefit from a bit of fresh air. You look a little flustered."
Her eyes widened. "Is it time?" She whispered.
"It's now or never," he teased and offered her his arm.
To Dany it felt as if this was the first moment today that she felt really awake. 'It was time!'
Interlude 40: The huntsman and the rose
"My Lady?" Dickon Tarly touched her shoulder. He had followed Lady Margaery outside when he had seen her leave the Great Hall shortly after the young King and most of his entourage had disappeared. The young lady turned her head toward him and despite the fact that she had been crying, he still found her to be more beautiful than ever.
"Oh, Lord Dickon. I'm sorry. I hadn't noticed you were in attendance tonight." She quickly removed the evidence of her tears from her face and looked around to check whether there were any other witnesses to her weak behaviour. "Please forget that you saw me this way. And don't tell Grandmother."
"Of course not, my Lady. Is there anything else I can do to alleviate your sorrow?"
"You could at least have come over and greeted us. Father would have welcomed your presence at our table."
Dickon grimaced. He had made himself scarce so as not to be noticed by the King's entourage. He saw Margaery smile through her tears.
"Losing in the third round is nothing to be ashamed of, Dickon. I shamed myself far worse."
Glad that she referred to him by his first name again as they had always done when they were younger, he relaxed his posture and continued to try and comfort her. "I lost before an entire crowd. Nobody will know of these few tears you shed in private. Are you unwell, Margaery? Or has someone harassed you?"
"It is not what you think. I just," she sighed. "You have known me for years, Dickon. You know how I hate to disappoint Grandmother."
"Nobody can please the Queen of Thorns all of the time. You should be something short of a God for that and even those will incur her wrath at least once a day. Don't mind her. If your father and brothers are pleased with you, then you are doing just fine." He was glad to see her accept his arm when he held it out to her. "Isn't there really anything I can do to help?"
"Not in the long run but for now, your presence is working wonders. Thank you, Dickon."
The bittersweet pain he always felt in her company rose even higher in his chest at seeing her make an effort to be cheerful. Knowing full well that he wasn't allowed to do what he wanted, he did the next best thing. "The music has started up again. Allow me this dance, Margaery and then I will greet your grandmother and I shall steal her attention away from you for a while."
"You can try." She added drily. "But I won't hold it against you if you don't succeed. Gods, it is good to see you again, Dickon. It has been too long since you visited Highgarden."
He smiled, gratified by the candidly spoken words and the beautiful smile she offered him in return. He knew her well enough to discern when she presented her mask to the world or when she was genuine. He couldn't help but drown in her eyes when he gave her the worn out but honest to the Gods excuse. "Well you know my father. I can never get enough training done in one day, let alone take out a sennight for a social visit without a valid purpose."
He led her to the dancefloor and under the all-seeing eye of her grandmother they went through their paces. It wasn't long before her soft voice tickled his ear. Margaery Tyrell had been taught all the do's and don'ts and it was not polite to stay silent during a dance.
"I was surprised to learn that your brother is part of the King's inner circle."
He looked into her large brown eyes and hesitated for a moment not knowing what he could reveal. In the end he decided to tell the truth even if he left out a few details. "It came as a surprise to me as well. I was granted an audience with the King because of it though."
Margaery now looked at him without disguising her curiosity. "You did? And what did you think of our new sovereign?"
Again he hesitated before given her an answer. "Even though his Grace is rather young, he seems to know what he is about."
"I hadn't really spoken to him before tonight." She confessed. "He was kind during our dance, but we spoke of nothing of consequence so I haven't formed an opinion yet."
"I bet your grandmother has one." Dickon laughed softly but his smile dimmed when he saw Margaery bite her lips. He cursed himself for bringing up the source of her earlier misery. He had always harboured ad a soft spot for Margaery and until last year, he had even hoped that maybe one day, he could be her husband. His father however had coldly shot down his expectations by informing him in his typical terse, impersonal manner that House Tyrell had turned down his offer to join their houses several years ago. It wasn't her fault though and he still could be her friend. There was nothing his father could do about that. He was broken out of his musings by her soft voice.
"Where do you think the King and Queen have disappeared to?" She asked him.
Dickon looked around. The high table was still entirely deserted. "I don't know. But wherever they are, they are in the company of all their advisers. Perhaps there is some political crisis?" He once more scanned the room and detected the two men who had been shadowing him ever since he had left his audience with the King. He had yet to speak to his brother a second time. It didn't help that he hadn't heard from his Lord Father yet either. The music had stopped and once more she took his arm. He escorted her dutifully to the table where her family was seated and resigned himself to spend the rest of the evening under the scrutiny of the Queen of Thorns.
After Lady Olenna had criticised every detail of the table decorations and the courses that were being served, he welcomed the distraction caused by the return of the King, the Princess and most of their entourage. They all seemed a bit flushed and merry. If anyone had asked Dickon's opinion, he would have ventured that they all looked as if they had just returned from a private party with lots of wine and dancing. His earlier hypothesis of some political crisis was most likely way off.
The King who had not taken his seat tapped his cup with a knife. A silence fell over the room. "I do not want to disturb this feast any more than we already have." He smiled apologetically at Princess Daenerys. "But I wish to toast to a successful day, one that will stay in my memory for years to come."
Dickon saw the King take the hand of his betrothed and urge her to rise as well. They stood side by side and she raised her cup the same moment he did.
"Both of us thank you all for your presence and welcome you all to witness the coronation and wedding ceremony tomorrow morning. For now I ask you to join me and my bride in this toast. Even though we won't stay for much longer, you are all welcome to feast and dance until dawn. Please raise your cups."
The sound of chairs scraping over the tile floor created a cacophony of noise. When everyone had risen and an expectant silence reigned over the hall, it was Princess Daenerys who led the toast. "To this year's champions, to everyone present, to our loved ones and to all the people of Westeros, cheers!" Then the King and Queen looked into each other's eyes while they emptied their cups.
"What a besotted fool." Dickon heard Lady Olenna mutter. "If the Princess has a lick of sense, she will rule the Seven Kingdoms in no time instead of that upstart of a …"
"Grandmother," Margaery hissed but Dickon saw the young lady shrink under the poisonous look that Lady Olenna of House Tyrell bestowed on her granddaughter. Wanting nothing more than to put some distance between grandmother and granddaughter, he was about to ask her hand for another dance when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Brother, would you have time for a talk now or is it inconvenient?"
Dickon didn't get the chance to answer. Lady Olenna rather impolitely interrupted them. "Samwell Tarly, as I live and breathe! I hardly recognised you. You look different and not only because you are not wearing the tell-tale sigil of the striding huntsman. What a surprise to find you here at the royal Court. I heard a rather different account of your supposed whereabouts from your father."
"I, uh, I changed my plans, my Lady. It was all rather unexpected, I admit. But you see, the King had need of my services."
She narrowed her eyes. "What service can a Lord who has forsaken all claims to his birthright offer a King with vast support and two dragons? Care to enlighten me? Because I don't see."
"I was studying some things that were of interest to his Grace who I then knew as Lord Celtigar. I was able to render him several services that were highly appreciated and we became friends." Dickon silently congratulated his brother for keeping coherent under the intimidating stare that the infamous Queen of Thorns fixed on Sam to the exclusion of all else.
"Mmph, became friends with the King. I presume you won't tell me what sort of services?"
"No, my Lady. I am sorry. If the King reckons you need to know, he will tell you, I am sure."
Sam cheeks had turned as red as Lady Olenna's. But Dickon was sure that in Sam's case it was merely from embarrassment while the Queen of Thorns was trying to reign in her frustration.
"Sam, perhaps we should go outside and you can tell me why you need to talk to me." Dickon although full of admiration of how Sam was holding up under the scrutiny of Lady Olenna, came to his brother's rescue all the same.
He smiled encouragingly at Lady Margaery and nodded in the direction of a mutual acquaintance. He made sure to walk past the man on his way out and whisper something in his ear. Then he left the room making sure he did not lose sight of his brother. At least he was confident that Lady Margaery would have an excuse to leave her grandmother's side for a while when the next dance started.
"I think this is the first time that you have said more than three words to Lady Olenna in one conversation other than her title and name." Dickon followed his brother who led him to another part of the Red Keep where Dickon had not ventured before.
Sam smiled and opened a door. He gestured for his brother to enter first. "Well it helps if you know that the King or his advisers, even his Kingsguard will jump in and save me from her thorns if necessary."
Dickon stepped inside a bedroom that was larger than the one he was assigned to at home as the heir to Horn Hill. "You really have his ear then, Brother? What a stroke of good luck for our house. Do you think that Father will reinstate you as his heir?" He sat down in the chair that Sam had pointed at and looked around. Dickon tried to be happy for his brother but couldn't help wondering what this new development meant for him. For the first time in a long while, someone preferred his brother over him.
These last few moons he had enjoyed his new status. Even if his father had been more demanding than ever, he had been treated with reverence by everyone else and had made several new friends. He was also aware that his father had received advantageous offers for his betrothal and was drawing it out. Randyll Tarly was relishing the grovelling of the neighbouring lords and taking every profit he could derive from the situation. For Dickon personally, Sam's leaving had been an eye opener. He now realised just how much of a difference there was between being a second or a first son and he knew that he would be severely disappointed if he would once more be relegated to being merely the second son of Lord Tarly. He waited with baited breath for his brother's reaction.
"The King would force Father to do so in a heartbeat if I made it clear to him that that was my wish." Sam put a reassuring hand on his brother's arm for a short moment. "But it isn't, Dickon. Enjoy being heir to Horn Hill. I have much higher ambitions."
The wave of relief Dickon felt at Sam's words almost made him miss the mysterious smile on the lips of his older brother. He faltered for a moment but finally got his wits together. "I won't lie and say that I am not relieved by the fact that you renounce your birthright willingly. It would be a struggle to adjust again. But what you are saying has made me rather curious, Sam. Can you reveal any of your plans to me?"
His brother nodded and suddenly seemed to grow a few inches when he took on a confident stance. "The timing will depend on a few things but I aim to become a Maester and – don't tell anyone, certainly not Father–in all probability, I will at one time be named the youngest Grand Maester in the history of the realm."
Dickon was glad he had accepted the chair Sam had offered him earlier. "Grand Maester?" He blurted out.
"Exactly my reaction when the King first mentioned it to me the first time."
Dickon could only conclude that his brother really believed this would come to pass and that this was not a young man's impossible ambition. "Then I am happy for you, Brother. It will be difficult not to blurt that out when Father disparages you yet again. But will the King still go through with such an important nomination if Father doesn't swear allegiance?"
"Ah, I see Father was truthful then when he wrote that he only sent a raven to the King. The King has received word from our Lord Father. We know how to proceed and don't worry, whatever happens, the King sees me separate from our house. He might punish Father or you but never me."
"Sam, you are doing it again. Just as you did when we were younger and played together at Horn Hill. Back then you also delighted in vexing me by speaking in riddles. What exactly did Father write?"
Sam looked apologetic. "This time I am not doing it on purpose, Dickon. I am not allowed to inform you, I am afraid. But I asked to speak to you because I was ordered to give you the following instructions. Whatever Father decides to do, you will support him. You will not trouble him with your opinion. You will not advise him to do the opposite. Furthermore, you will not reveal anything to House Tyrell. If they ask, you will reveal only what Father allows you to tell them. And if Father doesn't tell you anything, then you just state truthfully that you know nothing and that our father is his own man. Also, but that goes without saying, you will not reveal to anyone the content of our conversation here."
"What? How? Why?" He hardly got the words out. His older brother calling the shots, Father and Sam keeping him out of the loop, most likely planning something together, it was all unheard of.
Sam once again put a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "Dickon, for now, just trust that all will be all right in the end. I know what Father intends to do and I have made my peace with it. I promise you that all of us: Father, you, me and his Grace will come out at the other end alive, if it is the last thing I do. The how and why does not matter. Promise me you won't harass Father at any time, no matter what."
"I don't understand, but if that is your wish, then I promise, Sam." Dickon was sure Sam would never do anything to harm him on purpose. Whenever his father had mistreated Sam in favour of Dickon, Sam had not once retaliated against his brother.
Sam had withdrawn his hand but had spoken once more with confidence. "Remember, our Father is a tactical genius and I am rather smart. All will be well. Trust both of us."
Dickon sighed. "I already promised so I have no other option as to trust you. I pray you are right this time as well, Brother. I might have been the better swordsman, but you always were the cleverer one. I will put my faith in you." Dickon saw Sam nod and a short silence ensued.
"I saw you with Lady Margaery. Still crushing on her?" Sam teased his younger brother and with that remark the previous topic was officially closed.
Even though Dickon was only ten moons younger and stood half a head taller than Sam, he blushed and readily acknowledged the fact that Sam acted as his superior for the first time in a long while. He conceded. "She is a nice girl, uh Lady. Can she help it that she has an ogre for a grandmother?"
"Is she always nice to you then, Dickon? Does she not look down on you? She is expected to make a brilliant match, the entire Reach knows that."
"They also know that Lady Olenna is frustrated as hell that she didn't know of the existence of the young King before he was safely betrothed to another." Dickon's voice gained conviction when he started to defend the object of his devotion. "Margaery is not her grandmother. She has never looked down on me, Sam. She has always treated me as a friend. Can you recall one instance that she laughed at you, mocked you? Many others did, but did she ever?"
"No," Sam looked still doubtful though. "But that could just mean that she has excellent manners."
"Margaery is more than just a girl with excellent manners. She has a kind heart. Even if she has recently been severely chastised by her grandmother for the Gods know what, she still made an effort to engage me in conversation and danced with me. And she knows that we are not to marry, so she did it without an agenda. She had nothing to gain by it." This was not the first time that Dickon spoke up for Lady Margaery. Sam was not alone in transferring Lady Olenna's ambitions to her granddaughter. "I know not to reach so high but she is a dear friend of mine. You will not disparage her to the King."
"I would not do that, Dickon. You know me. I haven't changed that much. Hopefully Lady Margaery will soon marry and live far away from her grandmother."
"What about me, Sam? Am I allowed to leave the Capital now?" Dickon saw the face of his elder brother close off.
"The King had rather you stayed a while longer, Dickon. Father gave his consent. If you like, you are welcome to attend the training sessions of the candidates for the Royal Guard. Not as a candidate of course. Just to allow you the opportunity to receive lessons from the famous White Cloaks. Perhaps even the Sword of the Morning or the King will show up one morning."
That got Dickon's attention. Just as everyone else, he had been blown away by the demonstration earlier that day in the Dragonpit. He swallowed. "I heard the King is skilled with a sword. Does he really fight as well as Ser Arthur? Or is that just exaggerated praise coming from his loyal supporters."
"You could grab the chance to find out for yourself, Dickon. Perhaps you might like to stay around for a bit of your own volition after all. Who knows, the King might even invite you to spar with him one morning if I asked him nicely. After he returns from his honeymoon, of course and only if you are interested."
Dickon still had to close his mouth when Sam had already called for the guards to escort his brother back to the Great Hall where the feast was still in full swing. 'Imagine that. Sparring with the King! His friends would never believe him. He would only rise in their esteem. Even if he most likely would have to admit that he suffered a defeat by the hands of King Aegon.'
aaa
End notes:
The title of the next chapter is 'Two weddings and a honeymoon'
