Chapter 42: Keep your guard up

Summary:

King's Landing, almost two sennights after events of chapter 41

Notes:

Enjoy


Chapter text:

Day 38 in the reign of King Aegon the Sixth of his Name

Lord Reed sat in the chair before the large desk and waited patiently for King Aegon to appear. The messenger that had come to his quarters to inform him that the King had finished his training session had also warned him that his Grace still needed to take a quick bath and change his clothes. He however had not waited a moment longer and donned his coat to make his way to the main building where the King's study was situated. A young guard had hesitated to let him enter the room but eventually conceded when young Tarly who had heard the commotion from the room next door had come over and vouched for him.

Howland had seated himself and used the time he still needed to wait to calm his mind and focus on the task at hand. The outcome of this meeting might turn out to be crucial. He needed to go the right way about it. Jon needed to hear his warnings and believe them. It was necessary that the young King heeded his words. Howland had also come here today to acquire Jon's support to carry out a vital part in the plan to defeat the Night King. His word would not be enough to convince others to put into motion what was absolutely necessary to given them a chance at survival. If Jon or rather King Aegon could use his royal authority to chip the balance in his favour, they would stand a chance at survival.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would need to keep his wits about him and find the right words. The words to persuade the Prince or rather the King That Was Promised that he needed to put his allies in the right position to assist him. On his own the prophesied saviour didn't stand a chance. He startled when the door opened and the young man in question entered with an apologetic smile on his face. Lord Reed stood and bowed. "Your Grace."

"Good morning, Lord Reed. Please sit down again. I am rather curious to know why after being here for some time all of a sudden you are so impatient to meet." Jon circled the desk and took a seat as well.

"Thank you for indulging me on such short notice, your Grace."

Jon smiled. "Jon, please call me Jon. We are in private. Even if I am no longer your ward, we are more than just a sovereign and subject, are we not?"

"I'd like to think so, Jon. And that is why you need to believe everything I have come here to tell you."

"Of course. You have never steered me wrong before. May I call you Howland? It will sound strange at first but Lord Reed no longer sounds right either."

Howland Reed nodded his consent. "Tell me, Jon. Do you still have greendreams?"

Jon frowned. "I have had so much on my mind that I forgot all about that. No, I have not had a single vision since coming to the Capital. Do you suppose that is because the weirwood sapling is still too young? Is the presence of the Old Gods not strong enough here?"

"You need to believe that the Old Gods will find a means to contact you when they need to, Jon. If they cannot reach you here, they will use your cousin or me to warn you. Amongst other things I wanted to repeat the warning I gave you at Greywater Watch last time. We both experienced that the trees can be a medium for the Old Gods as well as for our mythical enemy. For the moment, it appears that you have weakened their leader enough to prevent him from reaching this far south through the trees but stay vigilant."

"Mayhap the Night King is not so much weakened but instead has been focusing on other things for now." Jon saw Howland nervously play with his fingers. "What? Did you learn something about him? Is that why you called for this meeting?"

"I have not been allowed to see much, just a few short glimpses. Bran has described some images as well." He sighed. "It is not good news, Jon."

"Tell me. It is better to be prepared."

"I saw other ice creatures. Something akin to giant spiders that are very agile. Each of their legs ends in a sharp point. Some stand as tall as Ghost. Bran saw them too. Your cousin caught a glimpse of a White Walker sitting atop a giant dead bear wearing armour, more specifically a chest plate."

Jon frowned and remembered the last White Walker that they had destroyed on the raft. They had discussed this before and one of their guesses had been that it could have been a test of the Night King. The White Walker had stopped resisting his fate after all his wights had been defeated. He had just spread his arms making himself an easy target for the archers. He looked at Howland Reed. "They learned from their defeat and are neutralising their vulnerability. Dragonglass won't cut through armour."

"No but Valyrian Steel will. You must move forward with your plans and not hold back, Jon." Howland's knowing eyes held his.

Jon startled. "You know of the restrictions? Of the oath I had to swear? Did the Old Gods betray the secrets of House Targaryen?"

"They did not. The answer is much simpler. You did not have much time to speak to me but Samwell Tarly and I spoke while we searched for information in the library. Don't fault him. He didn't reveal much, merely enough for me to be able to fill in the blanks. Your attitude right now confirmed my theory."

"I am only allowed to use the newly forged Valyrian Steel to safeguard the survival of the Targaryen bloodline. Everyone I choose to gift with such a weapon or armour becomes my responsibility. I will be held accountable for the deeds they commit with it. If afterwards they use this newly forged Valyrian steel to gain more power or kill others, I and I alone am guilty."

"To protect the survival of your house, you will need to kill every last White Walker, Jon. And you can't do it alone. You will have to provide your best fighters with weapons and armour made from your newly forged Valyrian Steel. Make them swear oaths, if that eases your conscience. Make them promise to return these weapons to you in the event we all survive. But do not let these restrictions hold you back. Your blacksmith will arrive soon. Put him to work immediately. Let Samwell design armour to protect your dragons. Make as much as you can. If you do not, the enemy will only profit from your scruples."

Jon straightened his posture. "What else do you know about our enemy, Howland? You said we weakened him and in the same breath you tell me he has grown smarter. You seem to fear him a great deal."

"I have not seen visions of the future for some time now and that is what frightens the hells out of me, Jon. Normally I would expect to see something, even if it was just a trivial vision irrelevant to our current troubles. An occurrence featuring someone I know at a more advanced age than she or he is now, but I haven't for some time and neither has your cousin Bran. That is not a good omen."

Jon leaned forward now, his eyes had grown bigger. "Are you trying to tell me that that there might not be a future for the living?"

"That is one explanation. As things stand now, it might very well be that our chances are slim. The future is not set in stone though. Everything we do now has an impact. Therefore we need to step up and do all we can. Perhaps we have been lulled into complacency and are playing right into the cards of our enemy."

Both men fell silent needing to come to terms with this line of thinking. Jon looked out of the window and watched a raven land on a windowsill high up in the tower that housed the rookery. "How is Bran? How is he taking all this?" He asked Howland Reed when he finally turned his head back toward his former foster father.

"As well as he can be under the circumstances. This is where I need you to believe me, Jon. Know that I have come to care for your cousin and have the greatest respect for his potential. And there lies the problem. I have taught him all I can but he needs to learn more."

"He is still a child, Howland. What are you hinting at?" Jon recalled the image of his younger cousin who had cheerfully interrupted his training earlier this morning. He had come to fetch Ghost so Summer would have a companion while they explored the Godswood or what passed for it in King's Landing.

"Jon, the enemy has withdrawn to a place far north where he is safe and can regroup, grow stronger and develop his magic. We know he is a greenseer and he will use this respite to become a more powerful one. To stand a chance against him, we need someone who is equally powerful."

"Bran? What makes you think that a boy that has barely celebrated eleven namedays can be this pivotal figure that might tip the scales in our favour? Why can't a more experienced greenseer like you for example play this role?"

"As it turns out, it is his fate. If we give him the means, Bran has the potential to grow more powerful than any greenseer this side of the Wall in thousands of years. Just as you will have your role to play, he has his to play as well. The Gods are persistent. Bran is being haunted by visions. Also a force is compelling him to go north to a place beyond the Wall. We have to let him go."

"Are you sure that that is not the Night King trying to lure him in?"

Howland Reed saw the reluctance on the young King's face. He knew it was a big ask. He was apprehensive as well. He needed to persuade the young King that letting Bran go was the only option. King Aegon, the Sixth of his Name was the only one with the authority to overrule Bran's parents. He put all the conviction that he could into his voice. "I am one hundred per cent sure that it is not the Night King that is calling for Bran. The three of us have felt the presence of the Night King. Admit that you felt it too, Jon. You would recognise that feeling in an instant if this enemy reached out to you again through the trees. Bran is adamant that whoever is calling him north is on our side. Besides, we know where the Night King is for the moment. Bran doesn't need to travel that far north."

Somehow Jon was able to keep still in his chair and project an image of composure even if he felt exactly the opposite. He kept his voice friendly. "Stop giving me bits and pieces of information, Howland. Just tell me what your intentions are and what you need me to do, please?"

Howland Reed took a deep breath and fixed his former ward with a determined stare. He had laid all the groundwork and had the young man's attention. It was time to put his cards on the table. "Bran needs to go beyond the Wall. There is a large heart tree a few days' ride from Castle Black. We have allies there. Allies we believed long dead: the remaining Children of the Forest. They have not only survived, they still are able to wield powerful magic. Up there also resides a powerful greenseer who can teach Bran what he needs to learn. You know the history of the first Long Night very well by now. Only when the Children of the Forest allied themselves with the First Men, did they stand a chance to defeat the Long Night. The Children of the Forest have reawoken. Every night, they infiltrate Bran's dreams and call for your cousin to come to them. It is making him restless. He must go north beyond the Wall and soon."

"Aunt Catelyn and Uncle Stark, they will never allow him to go. Aunt Catelyn is counting the days to reunite with her son here in King's Landing. I thought that was the reason you lingered so long in the capital. I have never known you to leave the Neck for such a long period of time. If I am right, you haven't, not since the Rebellion. Aunt Catelyn and my two cousins will be here in approximately eight days. She will never agree to let you take him away so soon not to the Neck and certainly not beyond the Wall."

"That is where I need your help, Jon. You are the only one that can overrule them. At the very least you must persuade them to let him return with me to Greywater Watch."

"Not by talk of the Children of the Forest. We decided to keep the full extent of what Bran can do under wraps for his safety and to give him a semblance of normality. At least those who do not know what he can do still treat him as a normal human being."

"Jon, Bran is not a normal boy and soon will have to leave his childhood behind. It doesn't bring anything if you refuse to accept what is to happen. Bran will need to change to become a vital asset in the war for the Dawn. Without him reaching his potential, you won't stand a chance when you face the Night King."

"How can you be so sure that there is no other way? Can't we ask for the help of this powerful greenseer who lives among these Children of the Forest?"

"Talk to your cousin, Jon. Let Bran explain it. And don't talk to him like you would talk to a child. Show him the respect you show me or Davos. And believe that it will take more than just humans fighting wights to prevail. We will need to fight the enemy's magic with magic. Bran needs to reach his potential just as you need to become the warrior that was promised by embracing the magic in your blood. You will have to walk through fire and let it empower you instead of letting it weaken you because you fear it. Stop putting your head in the snow and look at the facts. Your dragons are magical creatures, not just big flying animals. Your warging ability is an asset you will have to exploit to your advantage. You will need to use every magical trick we can conjure up, use every asset at your disposal to defeat a mighty opponent that won't hesitate to throw all his knowledge and magic that he has acquired at us."

"This is too much. I can't concentrate on this just yet. We still have to unite the Seven Kingdoms. I might be fighting a war here in the South first."

"That might be so. But don't neglect your preparations for the Great War you are destined to fight in the meantime, Jon. Prepare for both fights. The Night King is not wasting his time. Don't waste yours either. We will discuss the undead foe in the south another time. I would not want to overburden you."

"Not overburden me." Jon's voice sounded bitter. "What have I ever done to deserve such a burden to be put on my shoulders? And here I had tricked myself into thinking that the Gods were favouring me by granting me such happiness in marriage not to mention how peacefully I have been proclaimed King."

"What has Bran ever done to the Gods? You are not alone in your plight, Jon. Plenty will suffer. Even more will die before or rather if we are to prevail in the end. Everyone will have to play his part however difficult. I need you to stop fighting this and accept the vital role you are destined to play."

"I need to think on all this and I'd prefer to have Davos and Sam present during our next meeting. Davos is my Hand. I do not want to keep him out of the loop. He needs to know, even if it means revealing all our secrets and risking the fact that he won't believe some of it. He can't advise me otherwise. And Sam should hear all this as well. Sam can help me make sense of things. He has a way to digest information and come up with solutions like no one else. I you want me to bend the rules on the oaths I took to protect House Targaryen, you will have to make concessions for Lord Seaworth and Sam."

Howland Reed raised his eyebrow but acquiesced. "Desperate times call for desperate measures?"

"Exactly. Before you leave, can I ask your advice on some minor matters?"

"Of course, your Grace."

"Jon, please Howland. No matter how difficult our discussions or how at odds our opinions may get, Jon will do."

Howland Reed inclined his head. "Ask away then, Jon."

"Do you know whether we can trust Lady Margaery of House Tyrell once she is out Lady Olenna's sphere of influence? And is it a mistake to want to pardon Jaime Lannister?"

"I only have my intuition to go by since I have not been granted visions about these persons. Based on your words, I would give Lannister the benefit of the doubt but would like to know him better before committing myself. I can't see the urgency of wanting to know this. He is needed beyond the Wall for now. Having never met Lady Margaery either, I can't help you there."

"Does that mean that they are not important in the grand scheme of things?"

"I don't know, Jon. Each decision you take may change the future and might cause individuals to become more influential or of less consequence. The Gods show us only bits and pieces anyway. I really can't help you here."

"What about a time table? How long do we have before you need my cousin to travel north? How long before the undead foe coming at us from the South will make his play? How long before the Night King is making his move to destroy us in earnest?"

"It doesn't work that way, Jon. The only thing I can promise is that I will inform you the very moment I learn more."

"Is Bran still in the Godswood?"

"No, he went to the library to join Tarly. He is helping Sam in his search for fire resistant substances. Do you really think that that will help you outlast the Night King when you fight him while you are both burning?"

"You can't prove me otherwise so I need to cover all my bases to improve my chances at survival. That vision has been plaguing me the most. I told you already how during that vision I felt that we were evenly matched and that the one who would prevail would be the one who could withstand the fire the longest. I could feel myself getting weaker. I must find a way to last longer."

"You will have to embrace the magic in your blood. Make sure to talk to Bran about this one of these days. We won't leave until his mother has been here for a few days. But you must help us convince her that Bran needs to leave with me. We need not inform her that we are going further north than Greywater Watch for now. "

Jon nodded. "I will. Can we leave it at this? I need time to come to terms with all that you told me."

"Don't take too much time. Man up, son. Take the right action. I heard you have been pushing yourself to the limit during training. Don't overdo it, Jon. You won't win by fighting the conventional way."

"What do I do then? Trust in the Gods that everything will work itself out? That I will embrace the magic in my blood incidentally at exactly the right time?"

"I didn't say that. But your normal strength, your human body has its limits. Talk to Bran. He can tell you how he opened his mind up and tapped into his hidden abilities. You might not have the exact same magic in your blood but the key to unlocking or embracing your potential might be similar."

"Then I will. Never before have I felt the wish to survive more keenly than now. I have a family to think of. A future I look forward to now more than ever."

Two firm knocks gave Jon the excuse to rise. "Let's table this discussion for now. As I said, I need to time to process what you've told me."

"Of course, Jon." Howland stood as well.

"Enter," Jon called out and the head of Ser Gerold appeared. "Can you join us in the Great Hall, your Grace? Lord Renly of House Baratheon, Lord Manderly with a rather large retinue, Lord Edric of House Dayne, Lady Brienne of Tarth and Lord Loras of House Tyrell have arrived. They are keen to greet you and make their pledge."

"And Stokeworth? Has he not been allowed entrance?"

His Lord Commander quickly recovered from his oversight. "Ah yes, forgive me, your Grace. Lord Stokeworth accompanies them as well. I don't know how I forgot to mention him. The man is as tall as Clegane. Stokeworth was most eager to see you again."

"Thanks, Ser Gerold. Has Ser Barristan been alerted to bring the Queen to the throne room?"

"Ser Barristan has taken ill. Ser Jorah is escorting the Queen assisted by two of my most promising apprentices. She will arrive before you do if we stand here debating much longer. I already sent Renny to fetch your coat and crown."

Howland Reed walked towards the door. "We will continue our discussion another time, your Grace. Just think on what we discussed so we can move forward the next time we speak."


Davos sat opposite Jon, the large desk separating the two men. When the young man kept silent, Davos coughed. "All in all things are going well. Stokeworth seems like a decent man. I'm glad he is visiting his kin first and not making any rash decisions. Perhaps the man can find a good wife instead of swearing another variation of a vow of chastity to become a member of your Kingsguard. Lord Renly of House Baratheon has agreed to an audience in a few days' time. He wants to apprise himself of the situation before talking to you and will seek out the nobles of the Stormlands that are present in King's Landing first." Davos fell silent. When he could no longer stand to look at the brooding face of the young King before him his eyes fell on Ghost. The wolf was fast asleep in a corner of the room. Davos' eyes quickly wandered back to his young King when Jon finally met his gaze.

"I am sorry. You are right of course. Things are going well. I am relieved that we are finally making headway with House Tyrell."

Lord Willas of HouseTyrell had finally come to them this morning to hand over the signed the document containing all the terms they had drafted after several intense negotiation sessions. Many ravens had flown between their new castellan in Highgarden and a few major bannermen before the deal had been finalised. Willas Tyrell would take up residence in King's Landing. His wedding to Lady Myrcella of House Lannister, the newly appointed Lady-in-Waiting of Queen Daenerys would take place in the Grand Sept of Baelor in two days' time. A sennight ago, that date had been set to allow Loras Tyrell to attend his brother's wedding. Lord Mace of House Tyrell had promised to return south to rule Highgarden taking his mother the Lady Olenna with him at the latest a sennight after the wedding. The Queen of Thorns would not be given a choice in the matter. The larger part of the document contained the trade agreements between the Reach and the Seven Kingdoms for the next ten years with fixed prices and clearly defined percentages of their yield that the Reach were contracted to ship to several of the Seven Kingdoms each moon.

Jon had made it very clear to Willas Tyrell that if it reached his ears that Lady Olenna spoke one word out of line or tried any kind of sabotage, the King and his small council promised to go to any lengths necessary to gather enough evidence against the Queen of Thorns to imprison her for high treason. Willas Tyrell had stopped protesting after they had revealed some of her 'unproven' schemes along with the promise that as long as his grandmother behaved, they would keep silent and nobody else needed to be told.

Jon absently gazed past Davos and continued in a flat tone. "We got them to concede on all matters with only the vague promise of a seat on the small council for Willas and the possibility of Margaery becoming a Lady-in-Waiting with the codicil that she may be released from that position at any time after her marriage if she so wishes."

"Do not forget that they only signed off after you promised them in good faith to do all you could to find her a suitable husband. This is cause for celebration, Jon. Why are you brooding?" Jon heard the mild frustration in Davos' tone.

"I just worry about Lady Margaery residing in the Red Keep and being allowed close to Dany."

"Yeah, and that was the reason for the Queen's dejected mood as well this morning?" Davos' tone indicated that he didn't believe a word of what Jon had uttered.

Jon frowned when he returned Davos' critical stare. "Davos," he warned his Hand not to pry.

"It will help if you tell me, son. I knew something had been bothering you well before the meeting with Willas Tyrell started. Everybody noticed that the Queen was not looking her best at breakfast. You two barely looked at one another. Did you quarrel?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It is personal." Jon pursed his lips even though Davos' fatherly demeanour had touched something inside of him. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Ghost had awoken and was scrutinizing him.

"Your mood will only get worse if you keep it all inside you, son. I know you too well. Besides, as your Hand, I have to admonish you. You didn't pull your weight in this meeting. I will always have your back in front of others and nothing will come of it but know that the young Tyrell looked at you strangely a few times." When Jon stubbornly remained silent Davos sighed and stood up. "This doesn't mean that I give up. It is just a tactical retreat. I'll send someone in here with food. At least do me the favour of eating some of it. You barely consumed half a bannock this morning."

Jon stared vacantly at the spot where his Hand had been seated and tried not to feel deserted by how quickly Davos had conceded defeat. He flinched when he heard the door close and noticed that Ghost had abandoned him as well. He sighed and moved his head sideways so he could stare out of the window and study the cloud movements. Unaware of how much time had passed, he vaguely registered the door opening and a plate of food being put in front of him. Still studying the changing shapes of the clouds, he wondered whether Dany would meet him later that afternoon to visit the dragons or if she would claim to be unwell and use that excuse to avoid him for a while longer. He startled when he heard a soft scraping noise. When he turned away from the window, he noticed that the plate filled with cold meat and bread had shifted closer to him. Jon looked up and stared straight into the blue eyes of his uncle Benjen. The man sat in front of him and must have closed the door without Jon noticing.

"Uncle? What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like? I brought you some food." His uncle kept his tone light but Jon could see the worry etched on his face.

"Davos sent you." Jon hadn't meant to make the words sound so resigned. A part of him was relieved. He should have known that Davos would not let him off the hook that easily. If Jon hadn't been so out of it, he might have guessed that Davos would revert to this tactic. He had done it before. Jon remembered how a while ago, Davos had confessed that he had sent Robb to him each time he had discovered a twelve year old Jon brooding at Winterfell shortly after he had learned who is parents truly were.

"Davos cares about you and is worried. So am I. This is not some great conspiracy against you, Jon. We only want to help."

The soft tone of his uncle almost got through Jon's defenses and he used the first argument that crossed his mind before he was tempted to give in. "And why should I talk to you when you do not confide in me?" Once again Jon was not totally in control of his tone and the words came out sharper than he had intended. He instantly felt bad when he saw his uncle startle. "I am sorry, Uncle." He apologised immediately. "I merely wanted to point out that if things between you and Lady Ashara of House Dayne are personal and I should respect that, then you should respect that Dany and I share the same need for privacy."

"You got me there. But still, is there no way that I can help? Ours is a different situation altogether. You two are married. I could never court Lady Ashara, even if I wanted to."

"Even if you have a thing for her?" Jon probed. His uncle looked up and Jon saw his struggle to decide how much he would reveal. He pressed on. "Just admit it, Uncle. I didn't see it at first even though the signs were there from the beginning. But thinking back, you fell for here the moment you two met here in King's Landing, did you not?"

To Jon's surprise, his uncle met his challenge head on. "I fell for her when I was fourteen namedays old back at Harrenhal. Even if it was merely a young boy's crush back then and a hopeless one at that, somehow I never forgot her. So yeah, I fell for her when I saw her again here. Happy now?"

Jon exhaled. He had finally gotten his uncle to admit it out loud. Dany had told him that she suspected those two harboured feelings for each other. Dany was sure of Lady Ashara's fondness for Benjen Stark even if the Lady refused to discuss the topic at every turn. "If you admit it, then why don't you do something about it? I distinctly recall you telling me once that if you ever happened to fall in love, you would marry the woman never mind whether she was highborn or lowborn. Dany is sure that Lady Ashara…" He couldn't finish his sentence. His uncle wouldn't let him.

"Don't say it, Jon. It will only make it more difficult to endure. It cannot be. I told you before. Things are more complicated than you realise."

"Then uncomplicate things." Jon was not in a mood to mince his words. If anything he wanted this conversation to be over. He wanted his uncle to leave.

Benjen shook his head. "I came here to help you. Not to burden you with my problems."

"Then I make you the same offer I made before. I will tell you in confidence what is bothering me if you explain to me why you can't offer for her." Jon held his breath. This would silence his uncle. When no response came he studied Benjen Stark carefully. It seemed that his uncle was really debating whether he should take Jon up on his offer. He observed Uncle Benjen open his mouth only to close it again. Jon was perplexed. This was uncharted territory. He could truthfully say that he no longer had a clue as to how his uncle would respond. Neither did he know what he himself wanted to happen right here, right now. On the one hand he really wished to know what was going on between Lady Ashara and his uncles so that they could resolve the tension and the apparent heart ache of the persons involved. On the other hand, if his uncle caved and told him, Jon would have to reveal what had happened last night between him and Dany. He didn't know if he could do that. Hells, he didn't know how Dany would react if she learned that he had told his uncle. It was a damned mess.

"Jon?"

His uncle's voice shook him out of his musings. "Sit beside me, please. With that desk between us it feels as if we are adversaries instead of uh instead of two people who are very close and want to help one another."

His uncle was right. Hiding behind the desk was not the way to go about this. He rose and walked to the empty chair next to his uncle. His uncle gave the untouched plate of food a wan smile but kept silent. Both men avoided looking at each other.

"I don't really want to talk about Dany," Jon said a bit forlorn, breaking the stalemate. He kept his gaze fixed on his lap.

"And I don't really want to talk about my issue with Lady Ashara either." Benjen Stark stated softly.

"Then we are agreed? We keep our own council. No hard feelings?" Jon swallowed. He should feel relieved but strangely enough he didn't. For the first time since this morning his resolve really wavered. He furtively glimpsed at his uncle and saw a flicker pass over the man's face.

"No hard feelings." His uncle confirmed. "I would have preferred to have been allowed to lighten your burden somewhat. Can you at least reassure me that Daenerys is not sick?" His uncle lifted his head now, his eyes searching his nephew's face.

Jon met his gaze while he tried to answer the question. "No, at least, I think not. I didn't … I should have insisted more." He felt the blood leave his face and could have flayed himself. They had said so many things to each other but he had not probed further when she had flat out refused to say anything more than that she would be all right when he had asked her that same question. He really should have insisted further. He had been told that women sometimes felt ill for a few days and that it could greatly affect their mood. He was such a moron. Instead of helping her through it, he had been short tempered, too caught up in his own struggles. He should have weighed his words more carefully.

"Jon?" His uncle touched his shoulder. "Hey, come back to me. It can't be that bad. You two love each other. You will be all right."

Jon nodded his head miserably. "Don't tell anyone?"

"Of course not." His uncle was quick to respond but Jon didn't doubt that his uncle meant it. His resolve weakened further. Perhaps it would help if he talked about it. Less than half a day of keeping silent had only worsened his mood and the mere mention of food made his stomach churn. He took a deep breath. Perhaps he could keep it vague.

"We quarrelled yesterday." He darted a look at his uncle who nodded encouragingly. "She uh she was crying when I joined her in our bedroom yesterday after supper. You see, her moonblood had come. Apparently that had happened a sennight later than expected." Jon looked at his uncle to check if he grasped the meaning behind these words. "You understand? She had her hopes up."

His uncle nodded again but kept silent. Jon swallowed. "She misunderstood my reaction. Of course I was as disappointed as her but I hid my feelings because I did not want to increase her burden. I merely wanted to comfort her when I told her not to worry, that it was perhaps for the best this way. I added that it might be unwise to start a family when things were still so unsure politically speaking. That I still had to leave somewhere in the future to fight a dangerous opponent in the North. I even suggested that she should perhaps consider taking moon tea for the first few moons. That we were both still so young and had ample time to start a large family."

"Oh, Jon." His uncle shook his head.

"Yeah, I see that now. She got emotional She accused me of using her body to satisfy my baser urges. And that I just pretended to be better than other men but that in the end I had proven to her that I was just the same or worse since I was a hypocrite pretending to be more than I was. I tried to convince her of the opposite but I don't know whether she could still hear me. She didn't stop crying until she fell asleep in my arms. And then this morning when we woke, she coldly told me that she preferred to sleep alone for as long as her moonblood lasted. She begged me to leave her be till then." Jon looked at his uncle in desperation. "I don't want to do that, Uncle. I need her presence. Even if we can't be intimate for a few days in that manner, I still need to hold her at night. But more importantly, I can't be at odds with her for much longer. I can't stand feeling like this for the next few days. I can't concentrate. Davos had to cover for me this morning. I barely could get the proper courtesies out when we met with Lord Willas of House Tyrell."

His uncle studied him for a moment and then righted himself. "Where is she now, Jon?" His voice had gained momentum and some urgency.

Jon however did not share the same sense of purpose. He hung his head "I don't know. Oh, she was supposed to assist Sam with the books. We are still taking turns since we have yet to appoint a Master of Coin. If not there, then she might have returned to bed. She did look very pale and complained of a head ache when I asked whether she felt better when we broke our fast."

"I may not be good with women but one thing I do know. They do not always express what they want literally. If she asked you to stay away, chances are that she might have wished for you to protest, to to fight harder for her. She might have wished you to convince her that you really, truly wanted to stay with her. Is Ghost with her now?"

Jon faltered. "Of course." Most likely his wolf had gone to check on Dany. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them his uncle was quick to speak up.

"Go find her, Jon. Tell her what you really felt yesterday and explain why you said what you did then. She'll understand."

Jon deliberated for a short moment. Then he jumped up. "Thank you, Uncle. Would you be willing to find Davos and tell him just enough to placate him? Ask him to represent me in our next meeting or have him delay it until I send word that I can attend? "

"Count on me." Benjen Stark rose slowly out of his chair as well.

"And Uncle," Jon had already reached the doorway. "We will continue this talk later. You still have to hold up your end of the bargain." He turned away and hurried to their quarters in the hope of finding Dany there. He didn't slow down when he heard Ser Oswell and a younger guard run after him.


That evening Dany and Jon reappeared at supper and it was not only Davos that sighed with relief. Davos had stood in for Jon for the remainder of that day. The only one who had voiced his disappointment openly to miss speaking to his King personally was Lord Tyrion of House Lannister. Davos rather liked the short man. It was rather strange that his young King was still on the fence in regard to the appointment of Tyrion Lannister as Master of Coin.

Davos greeted the younger couple with a nod and a smile. The Queen looked happy even though she still had dark circles under her eyes. His young King constantly had one hand under the table and awkwardly attempted to eat with his left hand until Daenerys discreetly chastised him when he dropped his spoon and bits of red soup stained both their clothes. Jon just grinned apologetically and tried to wipe the few droplets that had stained her skirt only to leave a bigger mess. It was obvious to everyone present that all was well again between the royal couple.

Davos knew part of what had happened from Benjen of course but he had also been informed that there was another reason for the absolute reversal of the Queen's mood. Varys had whispered a most astounding report to him right before they had entered the private dining room. "Queen Daenerys has made a short trip on Viserion this afternoon." He couldn't wait for Jon to tell him all about that. He doubted that it would be tonight though. He scanned the rest of the table. Eddard Stark was notably absent. Davos knew that there were some concerns with his good-family in the Riverlands. Lord Stark had warned Davos this afternoon that it might well be that when his wife and daughters arrived in King's Landing, they would need to travel to the Riverlands shortly after. Davos needed to discuss this with his King as soon as possible. He knew Jon and Dany had counted on Lady Sansa to stay in the Red Keep. Perhaps Jon could convince his uncle to let both girls remain in the capital.

Lord Royce and Sam were deep in conversation. To placate Lord Tyrion of House Lannister for the missed audience, Davos had asked him to attend the rather informal supper this evening and bring Lord Willas Tyrell and his bride along. These three were seated close together and Myrcella was discussing the sights of Dorne with Lady Ashara.

That was another person that Davos liked rather well. Lady Ashara went about the Keep quietly and one would overlook her often if one was not careful. Davos had soon found out that that was only because everything ran smoothly when she had her hand in things and one tends to overlook the things that are going well to focus on the things that do not. Jon had informed him of her official appointment as the 'leading' Lady-in-Waiting. Tonight however Lady Ashara looked troubled. Perhaps he needed to have a word with her as well. He had never tested the famed Davos-magic on Lady Ashara before.

Benjen Stark was also rather quiet this evening but then again he often was. He was Davos' staunchest ally when it came to looking after their King. He noticed the Stark Prince whispering something in his nephew's ear that made both men smile. Davos had done the right thing this morning. It had not taken all that long for Benjen Stark to come find him in turn and inform him that the King and Queen were probably in the process of making up. Benjen had told him in confidence what lay at the heart of the matter and Davos had been relieved that it had all been a misunderstanding. Not that he had really believed otherwise but still, it was nice to see with his own eyes that things had been resolved.

Perhaps he could have prevented this. He should have spoken to Jon about these matters. He and his wife had needed more than twelve moons for her to conceive the first time. However, after the birth of his eldest son, things had gotten a lot easier. He had often joked that he only needed to look at Marya for her to become pregnant. And the only reason that they did not have even more children was because he was often absent for long periods of time. He had been lucky with his choice of wife. By now most of his sons were grown and had found their own way in life. The younger ones were currently being fostered with a sea captain, a youth friend of his and they wrote him faithfully once every two moons. Marya however had died shortly after giving birth to his youngest when she caught a fever. He better not mention that fact to Jon.

He often forgot how young his King still was and how shielded his upbringing had been. Perhaps he should tell him more about his own experiences, even if it still pained him when he permitted himself to dwell on the years that he had been married. Only after she had died had he realised how often he had been away from home and how little time he had actually spent with his wife. She had always encouraged him to travel and pursue his own dreams. He should have made more of an effort. She had always been so willing to put her own wishes aside when they conflicted with his plans or those of his sons. He had made mistakes but had learned from them. Perhaps he could prevent his King from making some of them. For now though, all was well between the royal couple and he could relax. He turned to his left and started a conversation with Benjen Stark. His spirit lifted considerably when Jon immediately joined in. The King's good mood worked wonders on his quiet uncle as well. When a bit later Benjen Stark told one of his better Frey jokes, all present laughed heartily. For the rest of the meal everyone joined the main conversation and they spent a pleasant evening together.

Myrcella and Willas were the first to leave the table uttering the wish to take a stroll outside. Sam wanted to show Davos something in the library and Lady Ashara and Queen Daenerys excused themselves as well but not after Daenerys had given the King a soft kiss on his cheeks and he had smiled and whispered something in her ear. Before Davos left the room, he noticed that Lord Royce persuaded Benjen Stark to join him at his side of the table were had set up his cyvasse set and that Lord Tyrion made an attempt to engage his King in a quasi-private conversation. Ghost had pushed the Queen's empty chair out of the way and Jon was absently petting the wolf's head that lay in his lap. Davos smiled and wondered what excuse Jon would come up with for missing Lannister's audience that afternoon.


Since arriving in King's Landing, Tyrion had kept himself busy with planning the wedding. He had opened the large villa that the Lannisters owned in King's Landing and made all the arrangements for a wedding feast befitting the status of the bride and the groom. Mace Tyrell had agreed to pay his half but Tyrion with the assistance of his future good-son had made all the arrangements.

He knew it had been an ambitious plans but he had hoped to get more opportunities to interact with the young Targaryen once they resided in the capital. The letters they had exchanged had been cordial. The King bore House Lannister no grudge. Their house arrest had been lifted and Tyrion had secretly hoped that Eddard Stark would recommend him for the position of Master of Coin. He had helped out Samwell Tarly a few times when the young man had confessed having trouble deciphering the more complex trade agreements in order to double check whether all the taxes had been duly received. But up until now King Aegon had hardly cast a glance his way. He understood that the King was newlywed and wouldn't make time for a game of cyvasse anytime soon but they were in dire need of a Master of Coin. This afternoon he had surmised by a vague comment of Lord Seaworth that the Hand looked favourably on the appointment. If the King didn't, then why had he not appointed somebody else already? It was all rather vexing.

The only time he had gotten close to the King without his Hand present had been after a large banquet and at the time he had already been somewhat in his cups. He had not been able to contribute much and had let the young man steer the conversation. If he had known that opportunities would come so far and in between … Now he made it a point to drink very little if he happened to attend the same social function as King Aegon. There was one social occasion coming up that he could steer to his own satisfaction. He would seat the King next to him when his Grace attended Myrcella's wedding. King Aegon would be the guest of honour so it was only right to give him a seat next to the host. Until then he would stay alert and attempt to find other ways to befriend his new sovereign.

Tyrion couldn't believe his luck. All of a sudden he and King Aegon found themselves abandoned at their part of the table. He lifted his cup in a silent toast. The young King smiled and adjusted his seat so they sat opposite each other.

"Lord Tyrion, how are you faring in the capital?"

"The wedding preparations have kept me busy, your Grace. You see before you a happy dwarf. I look forward to giving my niece away to the man of her choice who is one of the most eligible bachelors in the Seven Kingdoms."

Jon nodded. "And a kind man who cares for her in return."

"Indeed. I can't thank your Grace enough."

"And I accept your thanks, Lord Tyrion, on the condition that this is the last time I hear you utter them out loud to me." Jon smiled and raised his cup of wine. "To the bride and groom. May they live happily together and stay healthy."

"Hear, hear." Tyrion answered the toast and took a small sip. He would not waste this serendipitous opportunity by getting drunk.

"I understand you have many demands upon your time, your Grace. But I wondered if we could reschedule my audience."

"Did my Hand not offer you satisfying terms for the trade deals and explain the reason for the altered taxes?"

"He did, your Grace. But he couldn't answer my question in regard to the open position on your small council." He looked around to make sure that the few that were left in the room were not paying them any attention. "A topic I would prefer to discuss with you behind closed doors. I also missed the opportunity to get better acquainted with my new sovereign. I had hoped to continue our uh budding relationship?"

Jon nodded thoughtfully. "I apologise for not attending today. Some uh family matter came up that I deemed more urgent than our meeting. I am sorry. I'll confer with Davos and promise to set up a new appointment. As to getting to know each other better, we are talking now aren't we?"

Tyrion smiled. "I like your straightforwardness, your Grace. Your letters already showed that tendency. I am glad to see it confirmed. Since we are talking, can I be so bold as to ask how it feels to ride a dragon? Ever since I learned my letters and read the stories of your ancestors I have been dying of curiosity."

Jon smiled and indulged Tyrion. He started to describe how he felt the day his dragons hatched and without revealing too much of his special bond with Rhaegal and Viserion, he spun an enchanting tale and had the dwarf leaning over soaking in every word.

"I envy you, your Grace. And I thank you for sharing all this with me even if I am aware that you are not revealing all. I heard that you have absolute control of your dragons and we need not fear for our safety. I observed with my own eyes how your direwolf obeys you instantly. I have heard he does this, even without visible gesture or spoken word from you at times. I have read however about the Kings of Winter and their magical connection to their direwolves. I distinctly recall stories of how some of them rode their direwolves into battle. However, nowhere in the history books have I found mention of such a bond between a Targaryen and his dragon. Mostly the books speak of how your Valyrian ancestors had trouble reigning in their dragons' behaviour." He stopped when he saw the young man start to frown. "Don't worry, your Grace, I'll not discuss my theories with anyone. But be warned that I am convinced that there is more to you than you let on. I will keep my eyes and ears open. You'll soon find that I love to solve puzzles and am quite good at it."

"Then I praise your straightforwardness as well, Lord Lannister. If you keep that promise you just made then I am sure we will get on well in the future. Have you by chance met my friend, Lord Samwell of House Tarly? I think you might find him to be a fellow analytical mind and I wager he will be able to outsmart you at times."

"I met young Tarly before but will make an effort to get to know him better now that he comes so highly recommended."

"And I look forward to our future conversations, Lord Tyrion. Expect to receive a summons for another private audience soon. Now it is high time that I join my wife. She will be expecting me."

Tyrion held in the bad pun that was on the tip of his tongue and just nodded and wished the young King a good night's rest without any hint of teasing or sarcasm.


The next morning Jon cut his sword fighting session with Ser Arthur in half to check in on the training of the new recruits. When they arrived in the large sparring yard, Loras and Brienne were each taking on a candidate and were close to beating them. When Jon met Ser Gerold's gaze he smiled and raised his eyebrow in a silent 'I told you so.' Ser Gerold nodded his head and then broke up the fight and sent two other recruits to engage the new arrivals. Before they could start, Jon stepped forward. "I still need to complete my training for this morning. Who is willing to take me on?"

Loras immediately stepped forward. "It has been too long, my King."

Ser Gerold intervened. "Your Grace. I would like to give everyone present this unique opportunity. I propose we change your sparring partner each time you find an opening and get one strike in."

Jon nodded his assent and took his starting position. He smiled at Loras and waited for Ser Gerold to signal the start. He made sure to give Loras the opportunity to show off his skill before he really started to look for an opening. Loras had changed his style a little bit. It was less ostentatious and more to the point. He noticed several moves that he recognised as Lady Brienne's. "So you sparred with Lady Brienne during your travels?"

"Every opportunity we found, your Grace." Loras kept his focus on Jon's sword. "You look as fit as ever, if I have your permission to say so."

'You know me." Jon smiled and shifted sideways to avoid being hit. He picked up the speed of his strokes and soon after had Loras backed in a corner and ended the bout.

Loras bowed and made room for Lady Brienne. It was not difficult to make sure that the fight lasted at least the same amount of time as his bout with Loras. Lady Brienne was a formidable opponent. Jon decided to change tactics and put more strength behind his thrusts. Lady Brienne did not disappoint and grasped every opportunity to switch to offense. Eventually he found his opening when he was able to duck under a big swing of hers in the nick of time and madeke her yield when he touched her armpit with the blunted tip of his sword.

After taking a brief pause, he sparred with twenty new recruits. He had to admit that most of them showed real potential and he made it a point not to humiliate them by defeating them in ten strikes or less. He also made good on his promise to Sam and challenged Lord Dickon of House Tarly to try his luck when he spotted the man watching proceedings inconspicuously in a corner. Young Tarly fought well but the variety of his strikes was rather limited. Jon kept silent but planned to ask Ser Gerold later to teach the young man some new combinations.

Ser Arthur handed him a cup of water when Jon decided he had taken enough exercise for the day. All the men kept their distance, too awed to approach the King. Lady Brienne however made her way over and convinced Loras to come along.

"Looking forward to the knighting ceremony tomorrow?" Jon opened the conversation.

"I won't be able to sleep." Lady Brienne's smile transformed her entire face. "Loras will be Ser Loras when he attends his brother's wedding. We will both be wearing our new cloaks."

"You will be respectively the first Lady and the first Lord that I knight. I better go rehearse my lines. Congratulations to you both. And thanks for proving me right. Ser Gerold can no longer claim that you are being appointed just because you had the advantage of befriending the King. You are the better candidates by far. Now I must go. I have indulged myself long enough. Duty calls."


The days blurred by. To Jon it seemed that there was not enough daylight to do all he needed to handle. It would have been worse if he had not been able to share the things he kept from his small council with Davos, Dany and sometimes Uncle Benjen. The decisions he took in his secret meetings with Prince Oberyn and Lord Varys weighed him down. Several times, Dany needed to coax him to bed before he fell asleep in his study where he was reading or scribbling messages by candlelight.

He had hardly managed to spend an evening with Edric, Loras and Sam before Edric left for Starfall. If his mother hadn't fallen ill, Edric would perhaps not have heeded the umpteenth letter asking him to come home, certainly not with Sansa arriving in a few days' time. Anyway, it seemed as if their plans to all get together again would not come to fruition any time soon. Gendry would only arrive after Edric had left and it would be moons before Robb could come south. Perhaps it was for the best now anyway. Jon barely had a minute to talk to Sam let alone spent many an evening carefree with his friends as they had done during his rite of passage voyage. It seemed as if all that had happened a lifetime instead of seven moons ago.

At least the Court sessions and private audiences had become shorter and less frequent. The wedding feast of Lord Willas and Lady Myrcella hosted in the Lannister villa had been an elaborate affair even if the guest list had been a fair amount smaller than the one at the royal wedding. The young couple had been given quarters in a remote wing of the Red Keep. Ser Loras, as he now should be called, had joined his Kingsguard and performed his new duties impeccably. Not even Ser Gerold had been able to find fault yet. If Loras happened to wink at his King while on duty, he was savvy enough not to get caught by Ser Gerold.

Ser Brienne had surprised them all by choosing to serve in the Dragonguard under Ser Barristan. Ser Gerold had applauded that decision. Not only was his dream of restoring the order of the White Cloaks to their former glory on par with his own traditional vision back on track, he was also spared the logistical nightmare of having a female live with them in the White Tower. He was no longer obliged to change the accommodations of their dedicated building the Gods knew how to safeguard her female sensibilities. When he had found an opportunity to speak to her in private, shortly after her knighting, Jon had praised her for her choice and had expressed how convenient her decision actually was. It would greatly help the Queen to have a female guard with her during certain delicate female related situations.

Ser Brienne had revealed her motives to him in a blunt, honest way that hat reminded Jon of Sandor Clegane. She had stated that she had overheard a few rumours and knew some of the reasoning behind Ser Gerold's reticence. After giving the matter some thought she had come to the conclusion that her ambitions had more of a chance to become reality if she chose the Dragonguard who were sworn to guard the Queen and her offspring. She had had concluded that she had a better chance of becoming Commander of the Dragonguard than of the Kingsguard.

Ser Barristan had perhaps been the most pleased of all. Ser Brienne was not shy at all and had volunteered to help him with some of his administrative duties while he was still ill. She got on well with Ser Jorah and accepted every assignment however minor as if it was the greatest honour. She was the first to volunteer to help train the weaker recruits that Ser Gerold had all but given up on. She had instantly noticed that the Lord Commander had already started to neglect a certain group and had figured correctly that he had as good as decided to dismiss them after their training program was finished. Unless by some miracle they proved him wrong before that time came. It only took her a day to get these men to look past the fact that she was a female and get them to adopt a few of her moves. Ser Gerold was honour bound to admit that her fresh approach motivated the men that he had already written off. From that day onward, Ser Gerold made an effort to lose his prejudice against female warriors and made sure that each of his recruits got another chance to prove his worth.

As a consequence, less than a sennight later, Ser Gerold could shorten his list of failing recruits substantially and redoubled his efforts with the ones that were still lagging behind. When his King announced that he was satisfied with his Lord Commander's latest progress report, Ser Gerold was honest enough to give Ser Brienne part of the credit. He had surprised himself as much as King Aegon. Ser Gerold was slowly adjusting his rigid rules to the realities of this new era.

All of them were slowly but surely adapting to their new roles. Jon had two squires to assist him even if he delegated their training to other men. Dany had appointed five Ladies-in-Waiting. It had been officially announced before the Court that Lady Ashara of House Dayne, Lady Roslin of House Frey, Lady Shireen of House Baratheon, Lady Ilsa of House Ruthermont and Lady Myrcella newly of House Tyrell had taken up the position. As soon as his Stark cousins arrived, Sansa would be asked to join this group. The last vacancy might be filled by Lady Margaery. Much to Jon's concern, Dany was still entertaining the possibility.


Jon was standing before the floor mirror in his room to check whether everything was fastened correctly by his squires. He fondly remembered the mornings of their short honeymoon when it was Dany who had assisted him with his buttons and laces. Dressing had been much more fun back then, even if it had taken them longer. Sometimes they had reversed the process entirely and had delayed leaving their bedroom for a substantial amount of time yet again. His musings were interrupted when he heard two heavy knocks. At Jon's gesture, Renny ran to the door and opened it. Ser Loras' head appeared. Lord Varys and Prince Oberyn ask a moment of your time, your Grace." One look at Loras' expression was enough for Jon to understand that his visitors had not been deterred by the Kingsguard's warning that the King was headed for the beach in mere moments.

"I gather it is urgent?" Jon asked just to be sure.

"Urgent and private." Loras' eye fell on his two squires.

"Renny, Monty, please alert the Queen that I will be a bit late. Inform her of my visitors if she asks. As soon as she is ready, she may join us in here if she is willing. If not, tell her that I promise to pick her up when my business is concluded. You will remain in the hallway until I summon you. Best have your answer ready by then so you can inform me whether you will join the Queen and me on our outing to the beach."

"Yes, your Grace." Once more they perfectly timed their answers so it coincided.

Jon watched how the young boys allowed Prince Oberyn and Lord Varys to enter first before exiting the room. His attention rested on the grave expression of Lord Varys. Prince Oberyn's face was blank.

As soon as both men ended their bow, he gestured toward two chairs but both men kept standing. "Prince Oberyn, Lord Varys, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Your Grace, thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice. We have come bearing grave news." Varys' sing-song voice sounded flat for once.

"Then don't keep me in suspense. What happened?" Jon would never get used to all the courtesies that they all needed to get out of the way before coming to the point.

"House Tyrell is in mourning. Lady Olenna passed away shortly after noon." Even though Lord Varys kept his hands concealed in his long sleeves, the small ripples in the soft cloth betrayed the nervous movements they made.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at Oberyn when he asked for clarification. "Died how precisely?"

"She choked on a chicken bone apparently." The Dornish Prince was quick to clarify.

"Oberyn, we have an understanding you and me. Since I have no knowledge of any schemes involving Olenna Tyrell, I hope that the answer to my next question will be to my satisfaction. That said, I want you to speak the truth no matter what. I will believe the next words that come out of your mouth, so please do not shame my trust in you. The fact that she choked, it was not caused by - how shall I formulate this - by some substance that caused her throat to tighten?"

"No, Aegon. I swear it upon the heads of all of my children. I had nothing to do with her demise." The Prince held his gaze calmly.

Jon relaxed and nodded. "I am relieved to hear this and I apologize for doubting you, my friend."

Prince Oberyn gave a small nod in return. "I accept your apologies, Aegon. I understand that you had to ask. That was the sole reason I asked Lord Varys to allow me to join him when he broke the news to you."

Jon turned to Varys. "What else can you tell me about this?"

"Aegon?" Daenerys' silver white head appeared in the doorway. "Renny told me I could come in?"

"Please do, Danny." He waited till she closed the door before continuing. "Lord Varys just brought us the new of Lady Olenna's passing. House Tyrell is in mourning."

"Your Grace, you look lovely this morning." Prince Oberyn kissed Daenerys' small hand.

"I concur, your Grace." Varys bowed deeply.

"Lady Olenna died? How?" Dany looked at Jon.

"They were just about to inform me of the exact circumstances."

Lord Varys coughed. "According to my sources, Lady Olenna of House Tyrell was partaking her last lunch in the villa where house Tyrell resides when not being giving quarters in the Red Keep. Everything was set to convey her back to Highgarden tomorrow morning. Mid-meal, she confronted her son about having all her orders delayed until they could be ratified by him or her good-daughter. When her son confirmed to her that it would be like this in future and she would also not be allowed to send or receive messages without having the contents checked, she flew into a rage and bit of a piece of chicken rather aggressively. When she inhaled deeply to start her next tirade, the food got stuck in her windpipe and before anyone knew what happened, she turned red then blue. Her eyes bulged and she collapsed. She never regained consciousness."

"So it was an unfortunate accident?" Dany asked.

"It was an accident." Jon reassured her. "It was not of our doing. I swear."

"Then we must send our condolences to House Tyrell. Send a messenger and tell them the Queen is willing to attend the funeral service if they intend to hold one here in King's Landing."

Jon nodded and looked at Varys. "Lady Margaery is of course excused for dinner tonight and all the court obligations she was expected to attend to for as long as she needs. Alert Ser Gerold as well and as soon as he is here, send Loras in. I want to break the news to him myself. Ser Gerold will have to adjust his rotating schedule a little. Loras will need to pay his respects to his family today and will need to be given leave to attend the burial ceremony. Let me know as soon as a time for the ceremony has been set and inform the rest of the small council as well."

"I'll see to it all, my King." Lord Varys bowed.

"Thank you both for informing me. Would you send my squires in on your way out, please?" Jon asked and took Dany's hand. "I want to introduce the boys to the dragons today. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Though if you bring them, you will have to behave, no kisses nor stolen touches." She gave him a quick peck on his lips and Jon smiled when he saw Renny and Monty blush as they entered the room and caught him kissing the Queen.


The morning before Aunt Catelyn and her daughters were set to arrive, Jon was walking swiftly to his quarters to change his attire for a private audience with Lord Tyrion when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Ser Arthur was just in time to hold Rosby back. Rayford Rosby was one of the apprentices first in line to join the White Cloaks and Ser Gerold assigned him regularly to help guard the King. If not for Ser Arthur's timely intervention, the man would have stumbled into his King when Jon faltered a few steps before they reached the door of his bedroom where the King planned to freshen up after a gruelling morning training session.

"Your Grace?" Ser Arthur asked when Jon closed his eyes and did not move.

"Something is wrong, Ser Arthur. Please step inside for a moment?"

Ser Arthur gestured for Rosby to take up watch outside and quickly shut the door after them.

"I need to warg into Ghost. Something happened." Jon announced with great urgency and sat down on the floor where he stood and closed his eyes. He immediately felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and a feeling of fierce protectiveness mixed with guilt. He looked through red eyes and saw a body lying on the ground, no two, three bodies. Then he saw her and sighed with relief. Dany was alive. She was crying and not heeding a few Gold Cloaks who were attempting to get her to leave the scene to bring her to safety.

Jon released the connection and jumped to his feet. "There has been an attack on the Queen near the West Gate. I believe she is unharmed. Take me there and call for reinforcements. A Maester too although I fear it might be too late." Jon was already opening the door.

"Ser Barristan?" Ser Arthur asked when they entered the hallway.

Jon whispered not wanting to let Rosby overhear that he knew more than he should. Only his closest entourage knew the extent of his connection to his direwolf. "I fear the worst."

Interlude 42: The trials and tribulations of Samwell Tarly

"Sam? Samwell Tarly!"

Sam shook awake and looked right into a weathered face and warm brown eyes.

"Davos, I did it again, didn't I?" Sam wiped the drool from the right corner of his mouth with his sleeve and made an effort to get his bearings. The large table in the library was littered with scrolls and two large books lay open in front of him. The letters on the scroll that he had been writing before he dozed off were no more than vague blotches. His hand went to his right cheek.

Davos chuckled. "I can almost read the words you have written of your cheek, Sam. Here."

Sam gratefully accepted the moist cloth Davos handed him and rubbed frantically at his cheek. "I so wanted to finish that message to Riverrun."

"You should let Lord Stark write his own messages, Sam. You have enough duties as it is. It is all right for him to ask you to attach his message to one of your ravens and send them on its way. You don't have to act as his scribe as well. "

"Not his scribe who dutifully writes down what his lord and master dictates, he asked me to phrase the message myself. He just gave me a few keywords." Sam admitted.

Davos shook his head. "I'd like to report you to his Grace, young Tarly. But I know only too well that our young King will not speak any harsh word to you. The only thing I can do is see you to your bed myself and I'll talk to Lord Stark."

Sam nodded gratefully. "It is so hard to say no when they ask politely." He confessed.

"I had gathered by now that such is your weakness. But I had hoped that ever since Lady Ashara is assisting the Queen with the household books and I am doing my best to write the simpler messages with the assistance of Maester Pylos, not to mention that we all can rely on the two young scribes Varys sent us to make the extra copies, that you would have it a bit easier."

Sam started to organise the mess on the table.

"Leave it!" Davos all but ordered him. "You can lock the door after you. That way you are sure that the first one to enter this room will be you. I know better than to hope that you will not be here at first light come morning."

Sam reluctantly got up. It was no use to protest. Davos was right. Sam practically lived in this room for now. He probably had slept more nights in here than in that nice room with a big soft bed that had been assigned to him. There was not enough light in one day. The only time he had made it to the training yard had been when the Princess had dragged him outside before her marriage looking for a sparring partner who would take it easy on her. The sole reason that Sam had not put on weight again was because most of the time he was so deeply concentrated on what he was doing that he forgot to eat. Once he was neck deep in his research, time flew by and only because it grew darker and he had to go in search of a candle, did he realise that he had skipped yet another meal.

Joni, a young kitchen help had started to serve his breakfast in here the days he did not break his fast in the private dining room. He suspected Davos to have given the boy that task. Besides breakfast, the meals right after a meeting finished were the only ones he was sure to attend. The rest of the time, it depended on who passed by the library and reminded him that it was lunch or dinnertime and whether they had enough determination to get past his first refusal.

When he dreamed of being a Maester before they all came south, he always pictured himself delving through books and studying form morning till evening. The reality was rather different. Most of his time was spent reading and cataloguing messages and then discussing and answering them. Meetings also took up a lot of his time. Attending them and writing down faithfully every decision they made, often adding a detailed motivation to give posterity the chance to understand why they came to sometimes rather unexpected solutions. He liked crafting the text of a new decree. He found pride in ameliorating old laws. He had also enjoyed going over every eligible bachelor and maiden of every age to give Jon creative options for strengthening political alliances.

But the two activities he preferred were relegated to the small hours of the night: doing research on the Long Night and the magical abilities of Targaryens. These last few sennights he had been obsessed with finding information on what made the dragonlords more immune to burns than the average human being and ways to control a dragon other than whips and Jon's unique mental way.

The book he had started to write on the reign of King Aegon the Sixth of his name and his earlier years lay abandoned. If they survived the war against the dead, Sam had solemnly vowed to dedicate at least a small part of each day of the remainder of his life to this work. Posterity should know about the events that transpired now. It would not do to struggle to make the entire realm believe they had to find a way to unite and defeat their mystical enemy only to have the generations that came after them go through the same struggle to find information even if it that was still thousands of years from now. Sam's goal was not only to write a tribute to his friend Jon, but to help whoever came after them to prevent the Night King from surprising the world of the living ever again.

He had hardly seen Jon outside of meetings and meal times. The limited amount of time they spent in each other's company was used to develop their theories or exchanging small talk with each other during meals. He hoped that things would change now that Gendry was set to arrive any day. As soon as they had successfully created their first batch of Valyrian Steel, a big chunk would fall from their shoulders. Loras had promised to find a way to arrange for the four of them to spend a relaxing evening together as soon as Gendry had arrived. Chances were getting smaller that Robb would join them in King's Landing before Sam ran out of excuses and needed to leave for the Citadel.

Today had been an extra strenuous day. Aside from all his normal tasks, he had spent some time making sure that the enlarged forge that had been construed would be ready so Gendry had an adequate work space at his disposal to experiment away from prying eyes and hopefully make several batches of Valyrian Steel.

When he adjusted the bedfurs and laid his head down, he reviewed the events of these last few moons as he often did before finding peace at night. He always came to the same conclusion. It was all worth it. He was a part of something big. For the first time in his life, many people relied on him. They counted on him to perform a vital role in saving the realm. The King counted on him and Sam would give his last drop of energy to live up to Jon's expectations. It felt great to be needed, to have purpose. And if they all lived beyond the Long Night, Samwell of House Tarly would be able to take credit for the part he had played in that.


Notes:

Next chapter: They all recover from the brutal attack and more official positions are filled.