Chapter 44: The delicate art of communication
Summary:
Princess Catelyn makes the most of her time at the royal Court in her own way. Jon juggles many things and his diplomatic skills get tested time and again. In the interlude House Baratheon takes center stage.
Notes:
Before some of you make a very pertinent remark, let me quickly state that I used my artistic license once more and aged Shireen Baratheon slightly. She is a maiden, flowered and in this medieval society, fit to be betrothed.
Once more I posted an unbeta'd chapter. Enjoy the new chapter.
Chapter text:
"Mother, let me ask the Queen first. You can't barge into her Grace's living quarters without a formal invitation," Sansa whispered, standing in the hallway in front of the door of the Queen's sitting room. It was the first time since the kidnapping attempt that all seven Ladies-in-waiting were attending their Queen. They were sitting together talking quietly and embroidering, except for Queen Daenerys. The Queen had a sketchbook on her lap, a pencil in her right hand.
"This may well be my last opportunity to join you all before I leave for the Riverlands." Her mother whispered back not giving way that easily.
"Princess Sansa, is there a problem?" The Queen spoke loudly enough for Princess Catelyn to hear her words on the other side of the door that stood slightly ajar.
Sansa quickly made her way back inside. "My mother, Princess Catelyn of House Stark, kindly requests permission to join us here, your Grace."
"The Princess and her husband will be leaving us soon, I heard. Please tell my Aunt that she can join us this morning. Ask the servants to serve fresh tea if you please, Princess Sansa."
"Thank you, your Grace." Sansa curtsied and hurried back to the hallway.
Her mother swept into the room before Sansa could utter a single word. Sansa rolled her eyes behind her mother's back. It also instantly dawned on her that getting better acquainted with the other ladies would have to wait for another occasion. Her mother's presence would surely make things awkward and formal. There would be no addressing the Queen by her first name now. Also, Lady Shireen would not be resuming her story. She had been in the midst of telling them how her walk with her cousin Lord Baratheon had been interrupted by Lord Bolton who they all considered her unofficial suitor. Sansa quickly ordered a young servant girl to send word to the kitchen that the Queen required a fresh pot of tea and an extra cup before following her mother inside.
As she was closing the door, she heard Queen Daenerys address her mother. "Princess Catelyn, please take the seat Lady Margaery was kind enough to free for you. That way we can speak at leisure." Sansa regretted that she had missed the deferential curtsy her mother had been obliged to make upon entering the room. She smiled however when she saw her mother make another elegant curtsy while she thanked the Queen.
Princess Catelyn installed herself in the seat that she probably considered hers by right as the second highest ranked person in the room. Keeping her back straight, her mother sat to the Queen's right with her head held high. Lady Ashara was the only one whose chair was equally close the Queen since she occupied the chair on her left. The other Ladies-in-waiting were seated a bit further away in the part of the room that was better illuminated by the natural light of the sun. Most of the patterns that they were embroidering were so fine that they could use the extra light.
Her mother coldly dipped her head in Lady Ashara's direction and then turned to where Sansa and the other Ladies were seated. The nod towards their group was more cordial. Sansa had heard the rumours of her father's supposed crush on Lady Ashara before his betrothal to her mother. How could she not? Ever since both Ladies had appeared in public in the throne room and had been formally reacquainted, she had overheard titbits of conversations revolving around the three of them. Sometimes Uncle Benjen was also included in the gossip. It had even affected her father. Before, or so she had been told, Prince Stark had treated Lady Ashara in a kind, be it somewhat awkward manner whenever they were in each other's company, which happened rather often. Now he was more reserved when he spoke to Lady Dayne in his wife's presence. Sansa did not understand her mother's attitude. Clearly Father loved Mother dearly and would always remain faithful. Her father was honourable to a fault and besides, it had been so many years ago.
As protocol dictated, everyone waited for the Queen to start up the conversation again which Daenerys did after an uncomfortable pause. "I am glad you decided to join us this morning, Princess Catelyn. I was sorry to hear about the ill health of your father, Lord Hoster of House Tully. I understand that you will need to leave soon to join him at Riverrun and I regret that we will not have more time to get to know each other better. The King speaks highly of you and lets me read small parts of your letters to him. I hope you don't mind, Princess. I enjoy the stories of your children's interactions. I grew up rather lonely."
Twice mention of her title of Princess already. Daenerys was playing her mother masterfully. Sansa reckoned Jon must have informed her that such was the best way to get into her mother's good graces.
"Of course I do not mind, your Grace. And I am sorry to hear about your childhood. If ever you are in need of motherly advice, don't hesitate to come to me. I've been raising five children." Sansa saw her mother lean closer to the Queen but could still make out every word that her mother whispered next. "That means five successful pregnancies. I am an expert on the matter. I reckon it is too soon to know whether you are with child?"
Sansa saw Daenerys stiffen and Lady Ashara's face darken. Before Lady Ashara could say something that might offend her mother, Sansa intervened. "I am grateful that Arya and I are allowed to stay here, while Mother and Father travel, your Grace."
Her mother's expression dimmed a little. "Of course, Sansa. The Queen obviously has need of you. And Arya, well to be honest, I have to admit that the youngest princess of the North is not the most patient person, certainly not the optimal choice to bring to a dying man's bedside."
Sansa nodded her head remembering how long and how fervently her father had needed to debate the issue before her mother had relented. Now she made it sound like such a logical decision. "My younger sister is very grateful to you, Mother."
"As am I, Aunt Catelyn." The Queen chimed in, this time stressing their familial bond. Then she addressed Sansa. "Might I ask what you have created from the exquisite blue-green fabric that Aegon gave you some time ago?" Sansa admired how Daenerys closed the previous topic by finding an innocent subject that was sure to divert and excite her mother.
"The King was very kind in offering such a rare fabric to Princess Sansa. She made the most exquisite ball gown from it." Her mother answered before Sansa could, stressing the fact that the young King had showered House Stark in gifts even before the rest of the Kingdoms knew he existed. "Sansa is very proficient with a needle, your Grace. Please feel free to use her services any way that pleases you. You won't regret it."
"Princess Sansa has been showing us a few embroidering techniques, we were all unfamiliar with," Lady Ashara spoke up for the first time.
Sansa held her breath when she saw her mother's face freeze and she bit her lip. The Queen however either not aware that something was amiss between her guest and her leading Lady or being a masterful mummer, smiled benevolently at her mother before addressing Sansa. "Princess Sansa, may I insist that you wear this mystery gown when you attend the stately banquet that we will hold in honour of your parents the night before they leave?"
Sansa exhaled quietly and nodded. "I will be happy to do so, your Grace. I had been waiting for the right occasion to wear it in public for the first time. Normally I would have worn it to your wedding but..."
"The King and I thought it strengthened the rule of House Targaryen if we didn't delay. The first sennights things were rather tentative politically speaking. I am sorry that you both missed the ceremony." The Queen was quick to intervene.
Sansa wondered whether this was an excuse that Jon and his advisers had come up with to placate all the nobles that couldn't attend or if it was the truth. She had not heard of any unrest but then again, she had not expected to arrive only a day after a serious kidnapping attempt on the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms had been thwarted. She had learned that the famous Ser Barristan the Bold had died defending his Queen so there must have been real danger involved.
"We understand," her mother saw her chance to assert herself once more. "At least my husband represented our house. I heard he was given the honour to officiate the Godswood wedding."
"You had a Godswood wedding as well?" Lady Ilsa of House Ruthermont exclaimed, and all heads turned to the Queen.
Sansa bit her lip and was embarrassed in her mother's stead. In order to underline to all present how important a role her husband had played in a wedding ceremony that people in the south including her mother looked down upon, she had exposed the King's true religion. When she noticed that her mother was about to speak up and, in all probability, would make matters worse, she frowned at her mother and shook her head slightly. Her mother understood in the nick of time and to Sansa's immense relief stayed quiet.
Daenerys however played the true Queen. She righted herself proudly. "We wanted to appease all our subjects. The Northern Kingdom still worships the Old Gods. We had a small wedding ceremony in the Godswood here in King's Landing. Prince Stark, your husband, as a devout worshipper of the Old Gods was the best placed to officiate." The Queen smiled but Sansa detected a hint of retaliation behind the politely uttered words.
Lady Margaery spoke up for the first time. "How romantic! Princess Catelyn, then am I right in presuming that you did the same thing? Had two weddings I mean, if your husband is such a fervent follower of the Old Gods?"
Sansa saw her mother pale before her eyes knowing full well that her mother had not done her husband that courtesy. If it weren't her mother who was being put on the spot, she would have applauded Lady Margaery's cunning to grasp the opportunity to call Princess Catelyn out on such hypocritical, snobbish behaviour.
"It was war time," her mother replied vaguely and refused to elaborate. Sansa was glad when Lady Ashara quickly changed the subject.
"How is your brother holding up, Princess Catelyn? It must be hard for Lord Edmure to take over the running of the Riverlands and care for his sick father at the same time."
Sansa saw her mother exhale deeply. Now she had to choose the lesser evil. For the first time in Sansa's presence, her mother acknowledged a question of Lady Ashara and started to explain that her brother had received help by way of a visit of her uncle, Lord Brynden of House Tully, adding how grateful they all were that her uncle had quickly left King's Landing as soon as word of Lord Tully's rapidly declining health had reached him.
Sansa let the Queen, Lady Ashara and her mother carry on with their talk and joined the other Ladies-in-waiting who had subtly changed the angles of their chairs and were talking quietly together. She had feared that her mother would snub Lady Ashara. The only time that her mother had ever mentioned Lady Ashara within her hearing had been yesterday and not by design. Sansa had been walking toward her quarters when she heard her mother shout at her father that Ashara Dayne was no proper Lady. She was a fallen woman that had tried to steal her husband. The last thing that Sansa had heard her father say before he had shut the door of the room where the argument was ongoing, was that he was not betrothed to her yet the only time ever he had shared a dance with Lady Dayne and even then it had been because his brother Brandon had insisted.
When she had asked Lady Margaery earlier this morning whether she knew more about Lady Ashara's life before she came to King's Landing, Lady Margaery had shrugged her shoulders and said that the only person in the Reach that she had ever heard speaking ill of Lady Ashara had been her late grandmother and that that was probably proof that Lady Ashara was a good person. She had warned Sansa not give too much credit to court gossip. Margaery had warned her that here everyone vied for power and the best way to rise above others was to discredit them. Sansa had been taken aback by Lady Margaery's bitter tone and had quickly changed the topic.
She focused her attention back on her companions when she heard Shireen resume her tale of what had happened next after Lord Bolton had been introduced to Lord Baratheon, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. If they didn't have an opportunity to get to know the Queen better for now, the Ladies-in-waiting could at least use this occasion to befriend each other a bit more.
"Do you mind if I take a seat, your Grace? We have more to discuss than a simply morning briefing."
Jon gave his Hand a welcoming smile. "Of course, Davos. You don't have to ask and please call me Jon. The doors of my study have fallen shut."
Davos took a seat and folded his hands. "I gather that Ser Gerold had nothing of importance to report during his short briefing? When is he going to fill in the two remaining Kingsguard positions?"
"We still think alike, Davos. I just handed him an ultimatum. If he doesn't give me two names by the day after tomorrow, I will intrude on the training sessions of the recruits once again and personally pick out two."
"You should have thought of that earlier." Davos remarked clearly satisfied.
"You as my Hand should have pointed out that possibility to me sooner," Jon shot back and both men grinned easing the slight tension in the room.
"A point in your favour, son. Now first let's see what is scheduled for today. Is the Queen still otherwise engaged the entire morning?"
Jon nodded. "We agreed to lunch in private though to uh compensate. Lunch will be served for us in our sitting room."
"Then we have time to tackle a few more issues this morning. You have no formal appointments the entire morning except for dealing with me. For this afternoon, I scheduled two audiences: a short one with Lord Renly of House Baratheon and a longer one with your eldest Stark uncle, Prince Eddard. This evening the Queen has planned a private supper with your family."
"If she did not already, then include Shireen, Gendry, Sam and yourself this time, Davos. I consider you all my family too."
Davos nodded. "I suggest you inform the Queen during your luncheon so she can have the servants alter the seating arrangements. Now, we have a lot to discuss. Shall we start with going over what we will reveal to Lord Renly this afternoon? I trust that you will want me present for this audience?"
Jon sighed. "When will you forgive me for tackling more than we agreed upon during my audience with Lord Tyrion?"
"I am your Hand. I'd like to think that I should hear your motives, before you explain them to an outsider."
"I talked to you about considering a pardon for Jaime Lannister," Jon defended himself.
"That you did, son. But may I remind you that we were still in a 'brainstorming' phase. We had not found common ground yet. And next thing I hear, you all but promised to Lannister's next of kin your intent of pardoning him and restoring his honour completely. You know that not only me but also other members of your small council have cautioned you. How can you claim such to be just? He committed a more serious crime than his twin sister whom you have withering away on Bear Island." When Jon's head shot up, Davos added admonishingly. "Yeah, I read a copy of the latest report, the very one that you gave to Lord Tyrion without consulting with me first. How do you think Lady Maege of House Mormont will feel when she learns that her correspondence with her King is read by House Lannister?"
"The copy was not a faithful one. I polished a few less than polite expressions." Jon defended himself.
"Still," Davos didn't let up. "The fact that you acted without consulting me…"
"Was accidental. I didn't intend to bring up the subject of his sister. Tyrion Lannister did. I saw no harm."
"You could have stalled."
"Why? I am the King. It was not an unreasonable request and I just told you that the copy I gave him was a censured one. I had the more sensitive parts edited."
"All right. What's done is done anyway. But how do you justify thinking about pardoning Jaime Lannister and not improving Cersei's living conditions?"
"Have you ever talked to Lord Varys about her actions during Robert's reign? And I am not speaking about the adultery and the false heirs that they wanted to put on the throne. Varys has proof that she ordered people killed without the King knowing, without either trial or justification. At times she did that only because she bore a petty, personal grudge. Her eldest son Joffrey, I was told, was even worse. They feared that he was headed toward madness. And Queen Cersei condoned, sometimes even encouraged his cruel actions. There is one incident that sometimes haunts my dreams. Prince Oberyn saw fit to complete my education on real live in the Capital by telling me in graphic detail how a moons' old baby had been ripped from his mother's breast and was stabbed to death before the young mother's eyes only because the child was fathered by King Robert and as such, 'Queen' Cersei considered him a threat to her incestuous bastard's claim."
"And you believe these tales, Jon?"
Jon stared Davos down. "These are no tales. And I believe that you knew or suspected all along. Why else did you bring Gendry to us shortly before we embarked on my rite of passage?"
"I didn't know for sure that Cersei Lannister was the instigator," Davos defended himself. He sighed. "I should have though. If only I had given it some further thought. I preferred to repress memories of such cruelty." He conceded and hung his head slightly.
"Varys has proof," Jon answered in a clipped tone.
Davos lifted his head and looked his King straight in the eye. "I believe you, son. But in future, talk to me. I know full well that you are the King and are allowed to make decision on your own, but whenever possible, talk to me first. Else, I do not know why you keep me around."
Jon was relieved to note that Davos had reverted to his fatherly tone. He smiled. "For your theatrics. Come now, Davos. My talk with Lord Tyrion got a bit out of hand, I grant you. But you know that you have my trust. And I believe that there is no lasting harm done. I didn't promise to do it, I just mentioned that I was keeping my options open."
Seeing that Davos still looked a bit skeptical, Jon continued to justify himself. "Varys informed us that Lord Tyrion would walk through fire for his brother but resents his sister. He will not try to guilt trip me into helping Cersei. He only asked after her to be able to reassure his niece and nephew. Lord Tyrion's behaviour is yet another indicator that I am not wrong in my opinion of Jaime Lannister. The man made a difficult decision when he was seventeen years old. He should have been proclaimed a war hero. Instead he was treated with derision and his sister manipulated the situation to her advantage. That is how I see it. I admit that he made a serious mistake when he pushed Bran, but it was an impulsive act, executed in a moment of panic. He chose to safe his children's and his sister's life over the life of Bran Stark – yes I know," Jon added when Davos raised an eyebrow, "his own life as well. However, he is truly repentant and I honestly believe that if he had taken a moment longer to think about what he was doing, he would not have gone through with it. I am convinced that everything in his life might have turned out differently if he had not been in that throne room on that fateful day."
"Let's agree to disagree on that for now, Jon. Whatever happened during a man's earlier years should never give him a free pass for attempted murder."
"But the person in question should not be punished as harshly as a cold-blooded murderer. That is the last thing I will say about this today. This matter is moot as long as we are still facing a war north of the Wall anyway. Perhaps Jaime Lannister won't survive. Perhaps none of us will and we are arguing about this needlessly."
Davos stayed serious. "I will only agree with your statement that we still have time before finding a compromise, son. Let's move on, shall we?"
"Gladly. But let me first reiterate that I do trust you, Davos. And that I am still absolutely sure that I chose the best man possible to be my Hand. I implore you to keep challenging me as you did just now. That is your role."
Davos coughed and blinked his eyes. "Then let us discuss precisely what we will reveal to Lord Renly of House Baratheon when we talk to him, together. Nothing about our secret strategy, I presume?"
"Indeed. Until I have a better measure of the man, let us keep this between us for now. Only Varys, Prince Oberyn and Dany know the larger picture besides the two of us. Our allies each only know their own part to play. It will make reactions more authentic and gives us a better chance to keep this intelligence from getting out. We must keep in mind that our enemy has spies here in King's Landing."
Davos nodded that he agreed with his King. "And also in the rest of the Kingdoms," he added for good measure.
"I do hope that they've all taken the necessary precautions that as I asked them to take. But back to the subject of Lord Renly, what are your thoughts? Will he pull his weight? As I see it, right now he is only a powerless man counting on us to give him back his ancestral lands. Did you find a chance to speak to him?"
"Yes, but only when he first arrived and we spoke of other things then. He hadn't talked to his vassals yet. The other conversations were short and in public. I belief he has the best intentions, but I am not convinced that he is leadership material. I am almost certain that he will need coaching at first. I hope the Maester at Storm's End is a sensible man and will stand by Lord Baratheon's side when Lord Renly is reinstated as Lord of the Stormlands. Perhaps we should look for a strong personality amongst the noble houses of the Stormlands to befriend Lord Baratheon and guide him subtly."
"What about his relationship with Loras? Won't that interfere with his duties? Has he lobbied to be granted a position here in King's Landing and rule the Stormlands from afar?" Jon wondered.
Davos nodded. "That same thought has crossed my mind as well. I'll put it on the list of things we should try to find out this afternoon. Perhaps you might also gain some insight by talking to your friend Loras about this when he finishes his shift?"
"I can't do anything without you knowing, can I?" Jon fondly recalled the cosy evening he had spent with his friends.
"Not even hiding the exact moment that you bedded your wife for the first time, I am sorry to say." Davos winked.
"A little bird told me that you lost your bet." Jon bantered back hiding his slight embarrassment. It was the first time that Davos alluded to this in his presence.
"Aye, but I didn't wager much. It was more my pride that was hurt for miscalculating the balance between your honour on one hand and your love inspired hormones and the importance that you attach to the blessing of the Old Gods on the other hand." Davos bowed his head in mock defeat before straightening his posture again. "Now back to the Stormlands. We have our list of Renly's bannermen that have found sanctuary here and whose families we have been able to extract. We'll be able to check if Lord Renly has already put in the effort and talked to them all. That will give us an idea of his involvement and motivation."
"And competence when we hear what support he got from them and what promises he has made to them all." Jon added.
"Indeed." Davos agreed promptly. "We must also ask him his insight regarding his brother's personality and how he thinks Lord Stannis of House Baratheon will react to different scenarios. Perhaps he can offer us some sound advice. After all, he grew up with Stannis."
"Should we bring up his relationship or lack thereof with Gendry?" Jon asked. "I am not best pleased with Renly Baratheon's treatment of his legalised nephew.
"I'll put in on my shortlist. We should indeed. He has a duty to Gendry. Anything else?"
"Lord Renly might be able to tell us how his bannermen perceive Stannis. Do they worship his character, fear him, love him? Would they prefer Renly's more outgoing nature? Things like that," Jon offered.
"Or do they despise Renly for his choice in sexual partner." Davos sighed. "I don't think that such intelligence will help us along. We already know that ever since Lord Stannis started worshipping his fire God, he rules the Stormlands by fear. As long as Stannis is alive, they will fight for him to save themselves or their kin from being burnt alive."
Jon nodded. "We know all that. But we can let Renly explain it to us. Find out with just how much disgust he talks about his brother. We want to learn more about our future Lord Paramount's character, don't we?"
"We do," Davos agreed. "We will also have to give him an overview of the current political landscape in the Seven Kingdoms. A broad overview, but he must become familiar with the new state of affairs."
"We will. We shall also ask him what he knows about the economic situation of the Stormlands. In times of peace, are the Stormlands producing enough food to fill their own needs? What exactly are they trading? Perhaps Lord Renly can estimate how much damage Stannis Baratheon's short rule might have caused the trade relations. Stormlanders are also known to be capable sailors. Perhaps we can recruit some for our royal fleet."
When Davos nodded Jon looked pensive. "I can't think of anything else for now."
"Make sure to keep silent on the prominent roles Lord Varys and Prince Oberyn have played and are still playing in all matters, not only those pertaining to our strategy designed to bring the Stormlands into the fold." Davos warned.
"Noted. Then let's briefly run over the topics that we will discuss during our meeting with Uncle Ned."
There was still some time left before his private lunch with Dany when Davos left him. Jon called for Ghost in his mind and his direwolf joined him at the entrance of the Godswood. He knew Bran was off with Arya and their father visiting the nearby market to shop for a few souvenirs before Prince Stark had to leave later this sennight. He hoped to have the Godswood all to himself for a short while. It was not to be however. Sitting on a small bench was his uncle Benjen.
"My time has run out, I see." His uncle remarked drily when he spotted his nephew. "Well better this way, I suppose. I might sleep more soundly after I have gotten this talk over with. I have been rehearsing it over and over in my head." He averted his eyes.
Jon sat down on the ground, so he faced his uncle. "Why didn't you come find me then, Uncle? You know I would have made time for you."
"Because I was still stalling and being a coward." Benjen's eyes flitted quickly over his nephew's face before he bent his head again.
"I will keep everything you disclose to me a secret, Uncle. From Dany as well if you deem it necessary."
"I appreciate that, Jon. Is it safe to talk here? I don't want word of what I am going to reveal to you to get out. It would do more harm than good."
Jon looked at Ghost who returned his stare. "My direwolf will alert us if anyone enters the woods. We're good, Uncle."
"Okay," Benjen sighed. "I'll reveal what I can. Please, let me speak uninterrupted and save your comments or questions till after I have finished."
"As you wish." Jon promised quickly. He hoped his curiosity was not showing too much. He kept his body still, afraid that his uncle could bolt like a skittish horse at any moment. A bit more time passed before his uncle finally started to speak in hushed tones, his eyes firmly fixed on his lap.
"You already know about the first time that I laid eyes on Lady Ashara. We were all at Harrenhal for the tournament that was held there some time before the Rebellion broke out. Brandon was still alive and engaged to Lady Catelyn of House Tully. Ned was a second son, still young and impressionable and I was fourteen. Ned being Ned was oblivious to the fact that the beautiful Lady Ashara of House Dayne had noticed him. Brandon, despite being betrothed, flirted with all the Ladies and was quick to notice that strangely Lady Ashara was immune to his charm and had eyes for his younger brother only. Somehow, he tricked Ned into dancing with her. Ned took an instant liking to Lady Ashara, that was obvious, even to me. At the time, I thought that she was the kindest, most beautiful Lady I had ever laid eyes on. I could understand all too well how Ned felt. But Ned the shy man that he was danced most of the dance in silence with her and left the ball immediately afterwards."
Jon observed his uncle balling his fists, a sign that the hard part was still to come. He didn't move a muscle and waited patiently for his uncle to continue.
"I don't know all the particulars of what happened next. A while later, I learned that Brandon had taken advantage of Lady Ashara's hurt feelings by Ned's perceived disinterest and had swept her off her feet. I don't know if she knew of Brandon's betrothal at the time or not. I don't know whether he promised to marry her or not. I only know that by some means he convinced her to lay with him and got her with child. Just as I did, Ned got wind of her pregnancy. Again, I do not know the exact sequence of it all. Ned won't speak about it. The only time we discussed this was shortly before he was set to enter the Sept to marry Lady Catelyn. He was upset and I tried to calm him down enough to make a presentable groom. I had never seen my solemn brother so close to a mental breakdown. It was during the conversation that ensued that I learned that Ned at some point had promised to marry Lady Ashara and claim his brother's child as his own to save her honour. You know how the story ends. Brandon died and Ned was forced to cement the alliance between Houses Stark and Tully. He did so reluctantly, swayed by the argument that it was the only way to give the Northern Lords a chance to keep their heads. The Mad King new that the North had turned traitor and only winning the Rebellion would save House Stark and its major bannermen from being executed for treason. If Ned married into house Tully, the North gained the alliance of two Kingdoms which as history taught us was enough to tip the scales in favour of our side."
Benjen sighed still not looking up. Jon watched him stretch the fingers of his right hand one by one repeatedly. He kept silent as promised, sensing that there was more to come.
"Lady Ashara eventually returned to Dorne and her reputation was lost. The birth was difficult, her daughter still-born and she barely survived. Then to make matters worse, her brother, the pride of their house was proclaimed missing or dead. Dawn, the illustrious sword of House Dayne lost. Her father swore he would never forgive House Stark for twice jilting his daughter and fighting for the side that had slayed his son. He forbade his daughter to ever contact a member of House Stark again. After Lady Ashara survived an attempt to end her own life, she was sent to live with a poor relation for a very long time. On his deathbed, her father sent for her only to berate her once more for dishonouring their house and causing him to live the last years of his life as a recluse."
Silence fell and Jon contemplated all he had heard. "You are getting along with Ser Arthur though?" Was the first thing he thought to ask.
"Ser Arthur is a reasonable man. He knows that I was still practically a kid and that I had no influence on what happened to his sister. He doesn't blame us for what happened during the Rebellion. You must have noticed that he avoids speaking of personal issues with Ned and my brother honours his wish. They get along because of their love for you. They agreed to a fragile truce that only holds as long as nobody mentions his sister and the Starks in one sentence. He will never accept another Stark as a suitor for his sister."
Jon stayed silent a while longer. "Perhaps he did then. Years have gone by though. I do not believe that you are best placed to have an unbiased view of Ser Arthur's current feeling on this matter nor on his relationship with Uncle Ned. Also, I am sure that Lady Ashara has reached her majority by now. "
Uncle Benjen looked straight at Jon for the first time since he had started his confession. "She wouldn't go against her late father's wishes. She would hate to hurt her brother."
"Are you sure? She is on speaking terms with members of House Stark. Have you actually asked her? Have you ever told her that you believe that she bears no shame and that you value her as a woman worthy of being courted? Is it not possibly that her father has convinced her that she is a fallen woman and can't ever consider marrying an honourable Lord? Have you asked Ser Arthur's opinion on the matter? Many years have gone by. Her father is long dead. A caring brother would wish for his poor sister to find some happiness at long last. It could be as simple as Lady Ashara convincing her brother that becoming your husband is her most fervent wish and the only thing that could bring her happiness."
Benjen stayed silent.
"Dany is convinced that she has feelings for you." Jon offered softly.
"How can she trust another brother of Brandon Stark? She has been betrayed by my brothers twice already."
"Once by Brandon and he is dead. Uncle Ned had an impossible choice to make." Jon refused to see his uncle Ned as the villain of the story.
"Not an impossible one. He chose the easy road. All these years he had a wife that loves him and he sired five children he can be proud of." Uncle Benjen's voice sounded bitter.
"Only easy if he didn't love Lady Ashara back then. The rest was providence I suppose." Jon countered.
"What if he did love her back then? What if he resents me for getting what he wanted but had to let go? Ned and I, we have not always had an easy relationship. This might prove to be too much for Ned and me to come back from."
"Now you are just looking for excuses not to face your feelings and take a chance. If Uncle Ned loved her at one time, then he would want her to be happy after years of being lonely and miserable. He can't offer for her and he got a second chance at happiness. Why wouldn't he wish that for her? And if he doesn't come to this conclusion all by himself, I will help him get there. Uncle Ned is not an unreasonable man. Sometimes, he just needs a little nudge in the right direction."
Benjen studied Jon's face with a faint hope in his eyes. "How sure is Daenerys?"
"Very," Jon responded without blinking. "But don't take her word for it. Take a stroll with Lady Ashara and observe her reactions. Drop a hint or two. What do you have to lose?"
Benjen shook his head, doubt once more marring his features. "Everything, Jon. Only everything."
Jon tried to stay calm. This was no argument with a winner and a loser. He only wanted to persuade his uncle to take a chance. He kept his voice gentle when he softly coaxed him. "No, Uncle, I believe you look at it the wrong way. Right now, you have nothing. And what is more, you have everything to gain. Only everything." Silence ensued, the delicate subject still prominent on both men's minds.
Eventually Jon stood, put a hand on his uncle's shoulder and smiled. "I shall pray for you, Uncle. But I don't believe that you will need the help from the Gods, merely a little courage. He took the few steps that separated him from the small weirwood tree and kneeled.
Uncle Benjen shook his head. "It will be your shoulders that I will weep upon if it all comes to nothing."
Jon nodded. "And they will accommodate you if needed. I'll always have your back, Uncle." Then he bowed his head and started to pray.
The tragic story of Lady Ashara still played in his head when he joined Dany for their private luncheon. She was busy rearranging the food that the servants had brought on their little table and he couldn't help but break into a smile when their eyes met. They had found happiness so young. He was very lucky. He kissed her cheek and grinned when she pouted and tapped her lips. He playfully took her in his arms and dipped her low in a theatrical fashion while he gave her the open-mouthed kiss she asked for. Then he helped her upright again and moved his hand over his stomach. "Your poor husband is starving. Are you ready to serve your King and Master?"
Dany played along and bowed her head. "I am your obedient servant, my King. Please accept this food that I humbly offer you. All I have is yours."
Jon kissed her again. Only mere moments in her company and he felt lighter already. "First food," he declared, "and then, as a reward, I will let you decide how we shall spend the time we have left before duty calls us once more."
"Then let's waste no more time and start to eat." Dany sat down, unfolded a napkin and put it in her lap to prevent staining the beautiful gown she was wearing.
"How was your morning, Dany? Did you have a nice time getting to know all young Ladies-in-waiting a bit better?" He frowned and stopped buttering a bannock when he saw her make a face. "Did something happen?"
"It was not so much an informal getting to know each other session but more a formal audience with Princess Catelyn. Your aunt crashed our get together."
"Our Aunt. It can't have been that bad." Jon looked puzzled.
Danny handed him the plate of meat he had been eying. "Normally it would not have been, had the esteemed Princess Catelyn not chosen to reveal to all present that we were wed before the Old Gods."
"Word would have gotten out eventually." Jon answered as soon as he had swallowed his first bite.
"Perhaps I am overreacting but the way it sounded, the reactions of my Ladies, certainly Lady Margaery's made it seem as if we were outed as followers of the Old Gods and not the Seven." She paused. "Now that I think on it some more, that might be mostly how I perceived it in my head. It is most likely that only your Uncle and the entire North were outed. I think we are in the clear."
Jon nodded thoughtfully. He was not going to start a fight by questioning her decision to appoint Lady Margaery, at least not on such a weak charge as speaking boldly. Dany had decided to appoint her. The private interview that the two of them had granted Lady Margaery a couple of days ago had played a large part in that. Jon was still on the fence but remembering his earlier promise, had deferred to Daenerys' judgement. He had given her full authority and responsibility and had to see it through… for now at least.
Dany took her first bite of the cold meat she had cut in small pieces while they had been talking. She chewed on it, aware that Aegon was holding back a comment and admired his restraint. She vividly remembered the discussion that they had had before she had decided in favour of Lady Margaery.
Oooooo Flashback oooooO
"She asked to speak to us both? You granted an audience now?" Aegon had looked at her rather perplexed. Dany understood only too well. Never before had they granted an audience in their private sitting room after supper. It interfered with their sacred alone time. Jon had only missed it once when he had begged off to spend an evening with his friends. And even then, his friends had not invaded their private space, but had held their reunion elsewhere in the Red Keep.
"I made an exception, Aegon. Please indulge me." She gave him a brief kiss and looked pleadingly at him. She saw him melt before her eyes.
"You do not play fair. I can't refuse you anything in this setting." He gestured to the small sofa they often lingered on closely entwined, before retiring to their large bed. It was in such moments that they talked about their dreams, confessed their fears, admitted to mistakes and … other things.
She gave him another kiss. "Then I'll press my advantage and ask for one more favour. Let me do most of the talking, please?" When Aegon nodded she rose quickly and walked to the door. "Then I'll ask Ser Rayford to let her enter.
Dany joined him again on their love seat as she had started to call the sofa in their sitting room and adjusted her skirt. Straightening Jon's tunic, she gave him an encouraging smile before she shouted "enter". As previously arranged, Lady Margaery of House Tyrell set foot in their private chamber.
Dany felt Jon startle when Lady Margaery clad in a black gown fell to her knees and bowed her head as soon as she had closed about half the distance between the door and where they were seated. Having had foreknowledge of Lady Margaery's purpose for asking to be allowed to speak to the King and Queen in private, Dany was able to keep her face neutral.
"Your Graces, I humbly thank you for granting me the opportunity to speak to you." Lady Margaery's voice was no louder than a whisper.
"Please rise, Lady Margaery," Aegon said. Her poor darling felt ill at ease by such unexpected, submissive behaviour. Dany threw him a warning look and took charge.
"Yes, please rise, Lady Margaery," Dany repeated her husband's words. We installed a chair over here just for this occasion. Do acknowledge our efforts and use it. We would greatly appreciate it." She smiled politely and watched Lady Margaery regain her feet. It always amazed her how graciously Lady Margaery could move. She watched her regain her footing and slide in the appointed chair as effortless as if she had practised that exact same move a thousand times before. When the silence thickened, Dany encouraged her guest to speak up. "You asked for this opportunity. Please speak your purpose, Lady Margaery."
"I came to confess a crime, your Graces. I feel I should be on my knees for this." She looked at the King who returned her gaze with a bit of unease.
Dany took charge. "I would prefer you address me for now, Lady Margaery. Pretend that your audience is with me alone. The King will be a silent participant and will listen to all you say. That way, if I deem that we need his input, he has enough information to judge you or grant you clemency without forcing you to go through this ordeal twice. Know that I have full authority on whom to appoint as Lady-in-waiting. I gather this is still your ultimate goal in coming here, is it not? At least if you can get us to absolve you of whatever crime you have come here to confess, of course."
Dany was glad to see Lady Margaery lose some of her confidence. The young woman seemed unsure on how to proceed. Dany had neutralised Lady Margaery's greatest weapon. She knew that the young woman had been raised to use her female wiles to obtain whatever she wanted from any man, old or young. This was exactly why she had side-lined her husband. Lady Margaery would need to find a way to sway the Queen who was immune to the charms and seduction prowess of the Rose of Highgarden.
Meanwhile, Lady Margaery had already composed herself enough to continue her petition. She had angled her body subtly so if she looked up, she would stare directly into the eyes of the Queen. She kept her head bowed for the moment. "I am not sure whether your Graces will see past my crime and pardon me. But I will not take up more of your time than necessary and come straight to the point." She paused and only continued after seeing the Queen nod her head encouragingly when she stole a fleeting glance. "Shortly before your marriage, I snuck into the chamber, the bedroom of your uh betrothed at the time, now your husband, King Aegon. I did this with the intent to seduce him and have him release his seed inside of me so he would be honour bound to marry me."
Dany raised one eyebrow playing along. She was glad Aegon was keeping absolutely still. It would not do to have him fidget uncomfortably. This way he projected no guilt whatsoever. "I gather you did not succeed?"
"No, your Grace, I did not. He was not sleeping in his bed. As it happened, you were. Curiously enough, alone. I left the moment I recognised you. I did not try it again."
Dany had to admit that Lady Margaery played her part splendidly. She was the perfect picture of a repented maiden clad in a simple black mourning gown with her head bowed and her hands folded demurely in her lap. She sat in the chair, her feet closely together, exactly like a modest maiden should comport herself in a public setting. "I see. And why do you come forward and confess this after all this time?"
"Because uh, because I revealed this to Willas. He forced me to confess everything. He advised me to explain the circumstances as truthfully as possible and to beg for your forgiveness."
"I see." Dany repeated and kept a severe gaze on Lady Margaery. "Then I grant you permission to explain these circumstances to us."
Margaery swallowed and looked up pleadingly. "I didn't want to seduce him. Do not mistake me. I do find his Grace attractive. But were it up to me, I would prefer that the man I married would want to wed me. It was all Grandmother's plan. She put me up to it. Not only did she threaten to marry me to the first decrepit old man that dared to ask for my hand if I refused, she beat me with a cane each night that I came back to my room without losing my maidenhead to King Aegon. I can show you the marks that I still bear on my back if you do not believe me."
Dany held up her hand when she saw Lady Margaery move her hand to slide her dress of her shoulders. "That won't be necessary. We appreciate your willingness to do so all the same. The King and I will discuss this matter and we will inform your brother of our decision. You may retire."
See saw Aegon shift in his seat but a pertinent look from her made him keep silent.
Lady Margaery hastily got to her feet, for once forgetting to be graceful. She bowed hurriedly and made for the door. As soon as it had closed behind her, Aegon turned to her.
"Are you seriously still considering her as a candidate for Lady-in-waiting? You do realise that she will have free reign of the hallways leading to our private rooms. We restricted the access and only a limited number of persons are still allowed to roam them now. Your Ladies-in-waiting are on the very short list of names that may traverse them because they use of the sitting room further down the hall."
"I have not made up my mind either way, Aegon. I will reserve my decision until the both of us have spoken to Lord Willas. That is unless you do not want to be part of that discussion? But do not mistake me for a fool. If I decide in her favour, I will make it absolutely clear to her that the first time she makes eyes at you, the first time that she approaches you without it being on my orders, she will be shipped off to Highgarden without being allowed the opportunity to explain herself."
"I don't care about that. I can handle her. I care about your well-being. Just make sure you are safe. Even if you believe that she was not a part of the plot to poison you, stay vigilant." He caressed her cheek.
Dany leaned into his touch. "I will, Aegon. Now let's retire. I need your assurance that no matter how pretty my Ladies-in-Waiting are, you will always and only have eyes for me."
She squealed when Aegon didn't waste any time and picked her up only to throw her on the bed moments later. "You made me wait too long tonight, wife. This husband can no longer control his baser urges. Now help me with stripping every garment of that perfect body of yours or this beautiful dress will no longer be fit to be worn again."
Oooooo End of Flashback oooooO
Dany blushed when she remembered how that conversation had ended. Perhaps their private midday meal could end in a similar way? She peeked at Aegon's plate and saw that he had finished it and was reaching for the plate of meat to get second helpings. "I hate to draw out the subject, but may I remind you that we both were swayed by Lord Willas's heartfelt plea to pardon is sister after he recounted several incidents that had occurred during their youth? Who would have thought that Lady Olenna's ever present cane was also a torturing device she used on her grandchildren?"
Aegon nodded. "Just keep the promise you made to me. Avoid situations where you are alone with her and stay vigilant." He reached out over the table and squeezed her hand.
"Only because I love you and want you to be able to sleep peacefully at night, Aegon." She tried to free her hand. "I will need this hand if I am to finish my meal in due time. If not, there will be no time left for additional activities of my choosing." She gave him a look which she hoped conveyed her intentions in a seductive manner. She smiled when she saw his eyes darken and then check the contents of their plates. The moment he took a large bite, she did the same. It amazed her how she craved her husband's attentions more and more each day. He had awoken such wanton sensations in her body and instead of these feelings diminishing now that the mystery was wearing off and she knew most of what there was to coupling, her need for him only grew stronger every day. No matter where she was or what she was doing, images would pop into her mind of him whispering seductive words in her ear while he stroked her down there. Just this morning, while talking with a proud Princess of the North, she had felt herself grow wet when the image of Aegon with his head between her thighs suddenly flitted through her mind. If she had any say in it, he would not leave this room before he had thoroughly ravished her, and she him.
Davos looked at Jon and shook his head the moment the door fell shut behind Lord Renly of House Baratheon. Jon left his seat behind the large desk and positioned himself at the window that looked out on an inner courtyard where servants were hanging freshly washed clothes up to dry. The meeting had gone precisely as they had predicted. Lord Renly of House Baratheon was not a great political mind. He hated his brother and had been overwhelmed by the demands of the very same bannermen who owed him allegiance and had known him as their benevolent liege lord for years before his exile. These Lords should be grateful that Lord Renly was on the brink of taking over again from his fire worshipping brother Stannis. On the positive side, Lord Renly had made a real effort to contact all of his bannermen in King's Landing in a short amount of time and his intentions were good even if the results were poor. Just as they had discussed, they would have to guide him and surround him with a competent set of advisers.
"I just hope he will make an effort to get to know Gendry now that I made it clear once more how highly I esteem him. Perhaps we should have revealed how key Gendry is to my war preparations without actually mentioning forging Valyrian steel."
"Let's just wait and see whether that is necessary, son. I believe these two men will work it out amongst themselves. Gendry is willing and Renly needs him to sire the next generation. You have to direct your energy to more important matters and not meddle too much in personal matters between your subjects. Gendry is no damsel-in-distress that needs rescuing."
Jon nodded and turned away from the window to face Davos. "So, next up is my uncle. I am curious as to how he will react to my request to speak with Lord Domeric of House Bolton without him present."
"You have a good reason to do so. Ever since he attended his first banquet, Lady Shireen has been seen venturing outside more."
Jon nodded. "I've seen her from my window a few times. She was always chaperoned when in company of Lord Bolton. I guess that Lady Ashara would allow for nothing less. Can you guess who is often enlisted to walk with them or do you already know?"
Davos smiled. "I knew the lad would want to get to know his cousin at the first opportunity. Gendry has played the role of her protector whenever Shireen or Lady Ashara asked. Hasn't Dany told you? Sometimes Princess Arya joins them as well and if Ghost isn't otherwise engaged, they take him with them. Lady Shireen and Ghost are getting along fine."
Jon returned his smile. "I'm glad that Cousin Shireen has taken a liking to my wolf. I had no doubts about Ghost's side of things. He knows that she is under my protection and that I consider her kin. That makes her pack to Ghost."
"So back to the point I was trying to make," Davos reverted back to his Hand of the King mode. "You have a good excuse to want to talk to Lord Domeric of House Bolton in private. You represent the interests of your cousin Shireen whose welfare was entrusted to you by the late Robert Baratheon before he died. Technically she is your ward and you want an opportunity to hear from Lord Bolton whether his intentions towards your ward are honourable. I would even proclaim that you needn't ask for your Uncle's permission. The fact that you are doing it is a mere courtesy. And if during your conversation with Lord Bolton you happen to dwell on other topics, well that happens sometimes." Davos winked, this time referring in good humour to their earlier discussion regarding Tyrion Lannister.
Before Jon could point out that Lord Bolton had promised Jon to marry whomever his King ordered him to, two loud nocks interrupted their conversation. "Enter!" Jon called out and Prince Eddard Stark joined them.
"My King, Lord Seaworth." He bowed.
Jon waited until the door fell shut before he reacted. "Glad you could make it, Uncle. Please have as seat and call me Jon. We are behind closed doors."
His uncle took the seat next to Davos and Jon circled his desk and sat back down behind it.
"We asked you here to talk about the audience with the Lords of the North that is scheduled for tomorrow. Davos and I wanted to walk with you through the topics we'd like to discuss and make sure that all of us are of one mind. Perhaps we might also agree on who brings up what exactly."
"You are talking about the ongoing negotiations with the Free Folk and the Night's Watch?" His uncle asked.
Jon nodded. "Indeed. I fear things are going too slow to have a significant enough impact. We need more goodwill from the Lords of the North. There is no time to allow them to remain stubborn. If all parties contribute to build fortifications to separate the Gift from the Umber Lands and the mountain clans, most of the objections of the Lords of the North are null and void. Mole's Town even asked not to strengthen their walls. They welcome the extra source of income. Also, the Free Folk have agreed to let only their more civilized clans live close to the Southerners as they call us. You can use the argument that they will make up the bulk of our defences against our common enemy. As soon as the negotiations with the Night's Watch are finalized, they will start manning the castles between Castle Black and East Watch."
"Which will provide them shelter as well." His uncle pointed out. "The Lords will see it as the North allowing them to live in buildings the first men erected and help them escape the cold of the coming winter they could not survive in their primitive tents. But I will defend your point of view and use your arguments. Let me do the talking, Jon. This is a matter for the Warden of the North after all. I urge you to say as little as possible after you introduced the subject in a neutral single sentence."
"Agreed. I shall only interfere if the situation warrants it and to underline that I will be there with my dragons as soon as I am needed." Jon clarified.
"And if you don't mention it, we will also stress that the King of the Seven Kingdoms has been preparing weapons, and other resources for this war without pause all this time and will be accompanied by strong fighters when the time to face the Night King is upon us." Davos interjected with a firm voice.
Jon nodded gratefully at Davos. His Hand would make sure that Prince Stark did not underplay the role of the young King and let the North take all the credit. Without Jon's efforts, the North would still be in denial. For now he opted to change the subject. "Have you decided on the fate of Theon Greyjoy? Robb wrote that he is recovered enough to stand trial. Any chance that you will grant him clemency and send him to the Wall considering the ordeal he has gone through?"
"Will it endanger your alliance with Yara Greyjoy or do I have free reign?" His uncle asked.
"Although I would prefer not to have to tell her that her brother has been executed, she would accept his fate." Jon looked at Davos who nodded. Jon swallowed. "You have free reign, Uncle."
Ned Stark was visible satisfied with that decision. "Then I'll see what I can do. If there is a way to spare his life without losing face, I'll will."
"Would you lose face if you sent him to Wall?" Jon asked impulsively and ignored Davos small gesture of disapproval.
"I can only leave the choice up to Theon Greyjoy if I find that he is sound of mind and capable of making such a decision for himself. Now about Lord Bolton, Domeric Bolton, I have thought long and hard on the man's request to change the name of his house. I know it strokes with your wishes. I am inclined to grant him that even though it breaks with tradition and sets a dangerous precedent. That said, before I would allow for House Bolton to go extinct officially, I need to punish them for their betrayal and at the same time – even if it is merely symbolical – give the Lords who came to Robb's rescue a reward at the detriment of House Bolton."
"Does that mean I get a reward as well?" Jon teased. But his uncle stayed solemn.
"The Lords with adjoining borders to Bolton lands I would grant a parcel of adjacent land that previously belonged to House Bolton. The other Lords would be given a financial compensation by House Bolton, its importance comparable to the worth of these small parcels of land."
"I'm sure Lord Bolton would be only too willing. Will you allow me to speak with Lord Bolton personally in regard to a possible betrothal once he has discarded the Bolton name and founded a new House?"
Ned Stark frowned. "That depends. Who is the prospective bride? A Frey? Or are you limiting Robb's options by taking another eligible bride of the marriage market?"
"I would not hurt House Stark's chances, Uncle." Jon barely concealed his frustration. "Don't tell me that you would have allowed Robb to marry the legalised Lady Myrcella of House Lannister? That is the only betrothal I instigated since I came into power. It was you who promoted the betrothal of your Tully good-brother."
"I didn't consider Lady Lannister. That is true." His uncle admitted. "But am I right in presuming that you are thinking of Lady Shireen of House Baratheon as a potential bride for Lord Bolton?"
"I consider it a possibility but would of course give you precedence if you tell me you are considering her for Robb. I can stall my decision. It is not urgent." Jon kept his tone casual and made sure not to exchange an exasperated look with Davos. They had discussed the possibility of Ned Stark reacting like this but had dismissed it out of hand on the account of Princess Catelyn never agreeing for her perfect eldest son and heir to marry a disfigured bride. Was his uncle testing him once more, just like he had done with the Greyjoy issue? He kept his voice firm when he continued. "I warn you though. I will not betroth Lady Shireen who is under my protection to a man she abhors. Then again, I am sure that Robb can charm anyone that he puts his mind to. Let us say that Robb would have to convince me that he will overlook her disfigurement and truly believes he can make their marriage work. My cousin Shireen is a kind, shy Lady. I won't stand by and have someone wed her out of obligation only to shrink away from her."
"Fair enough. If I am truthful, I did not consider her for my son, either. I believe she is too highborn to wed Bolton though."
"Let me be the judge of that. Lord Bolton will have to convince me as well before I grant him anything. If he impresses me, I will still insist on a year-long secret betrothal and keep them chaperoned at all times so she is not compromised if I decide he is not to marry my ward after all. So, do I have your permission to speak to him in private?"
Jon was relieved when his uncle nodded. "Now that we are on the subject of betrothals, did Lord Reed approach you about Bran?"
"He did," his uncle answered. "Lady Meera is a bit older but Lord Reed mentioned that they would at least wait until Bran is seventeen before they marry. Given his special circumstances, she might be the best fit. They would settle at Greywater Watch. I have taken it under advisement. There is no hurry."
"And my cousin Sansa?" Jon asked his tone a bit hesitant.
Ned sighed. "She is still so young." He sighed again and took his time to answer. "The only concession I will make for now is that I will not betroth her to anyone yet. Sansa will attract many suitors here at court. If in a year's time, she has not taken a fancy to someone else and if Lord Dayne is still pressing his suit, then I will put him on the list alongside the other suitors instead of ruling him out on principle. Mind you, that does not mean he goes to the top of the list. It means I am willing to look closer at his worth and consider him for my daughter's sake."
"That is all we ask. Look at his worth. A lot can happen in a year." Jon kept his face neutral but inside he was celebrating. This concession was exactly what they had been aiming for a few moons ago.
"Now about Arya and Lord Gendry…" This time Uncle Ned was the one to bring up the possibility in a hesitant manner.
"Lord Baratheon is his ow man, Uncle. I will not force him to wait for Arya. But as far as I know my friend, he will wait for her of his own accord. Better let this relationship evolve naturally. It will happen, or it won't. If my cousin Arya refuses to marry, don't force her. If her mother ever threatens that she will have to leave Winterfell because of her continued unmarried status as she grows older, I am willing to take her under my protection."
Ned nodded. "I am sure it will not come to that. Will you let me know if their situation uh evolves? And make sure that nothing untoward happens between the two of them while she is under your protection? I will not be returning to the capital after the funeral. I will be heading north to Winterfell. Perhaps you will see Robb sooner than you think. He can take over the responsibility of his sisters once he is here."
"You can trust me with Arya and the Queen with Sansa, Uncle Ned. "We'll look after them as we would our own little sisters. And I will look forward to seeing my foster-brother again. We have been writing very long letters to each other but that isn't the same. I haven't seen Robb since, well since I left him at Winterfell."
"That was just a bit more than two moons ago, if you can believe it." Davos intervened. "It will be at least as long before Prince Robb reaches the capital."
"Longer probably," Ned chimed in and then addressed his nephew solely. "Would you consider the possibility of betrothing one of Robb's children to one of yours?"
"Nothing would make me happier if things turned out that way." Jon didn't hesitate to respond favourably to this request. "We'll make sure that our future offspring meets at regular intervals. Perhaps Robb and I might foster our younger sons alternately, so they get to know their cousins. And I am sure the dragons will oblige us and fly us to Winterfell at least once a year. No big pump and circumstance, just a family visit without the rest of the royal Court in attendance." When Jon saw Ned's face brighten he cautioned him. "Nothing in writing though, just a declaration of intent that we'll keep between us for now to give things the chance to progress naturally. And I would have to talk to Dany first about all of this, fostering and betrothal alike. You do have my solemnly promise that I'll do anything in my power to positively steer matters to the wished for outcome."
"That's good enough for now." His uncle was clearly pleased. "To get back to the upcoming discussion with the Lords of the North, we must not forget to mention the new trade agreements with the Reach. I owe you a thank you for that, Nephew. This deal will help a lot come winter. I intend to pay you back by getting my bannermen to help the Free Folk trade with the other Kingdoms. I believe they can provide rare furs, first quality wood, utensils and some other items they fabricate that are unparalleled to what we have south of the Wall. Winter is coming for all Seven of the Kingdoms at some point. Those Southerners will have to stock up on furs and wood or alternate burning substances to heat their dwellings."
"That will be a big step forward, Uncle. If all goes as planned, we will make enormous progress tomorrow. Now there is one thing left that I still wanted to address: the monitoring of the situation beyond the Wall. For now, I have been assuming sole responsibility. I know that the Night's Watch keeps the Warden of the North informed of the situation. I asked Sandor to send a copy of his status reports both to me and to Winterfell. I had hoped that the North would assume more responsibility. I trust that when the Night King stirs, the North will call its banners without me summoning them and be at the Wall if not before me, then certainly at the same time as me to make a stand for the living. As a gesture of good faith, I will not ask the North to participate in the upcoming conflict with the Stormlands."
Ned looked at Davos who nodded that he was in full agreement. He straightened his back. "You may count on the North, your Grace. As you implied, protecting the North is first and foremost the responsibility of the Warden of the North. I will call upon you, not the other way around. The North will stand with the Night's Watch when 'Winter is coming' for us."
"As long as you call upon me immediately and not play the heroe and make a stand alone. Remember the prophesy: you will need the Prince That Was Promised and his two large dragons. I will be bringing our best men as well."
"I promise, Jon. I will not put lives in jeopardy unnecessary. You and your dragons will lead our armies."
Interlude 44: House Baratheon
It still happened at times that Gendry didn't react immediately when they called him Lord Baratheon. He was doing better, but it still kept happening when he was distracted. He had gone by Gendry most of his life, sometimes Gendry Waters or just Waters. So, when his uncle called his name when he was in the middle of making inventory of all the tools in the renovated forge of the Red Keep, he didn't react the first two or three times his uncle called him by his legitimized name. Perhaps Jon was wrong and it was actually his fault that their first meeting had not gone smoother.
When he had finally turned around, he had seen the shock register on the face of Renly Baratheon. He had become used to that by now from people who had known his father when he had been his age. Since Renly Baratheon kept silent, Gendry had introduced himself. "I am indeed Gendry Baratheon. Nice to meet you, Lord Renly of House Baratheon."
His uncle had given him a stiff greeting in return all the while taking in his surroundings. "Do you intend to keep working as a blacksmith? You can't, I mean you' would better not."
"I see you have not spoken with the King about me yet." Gendry had wiped his hands with a clean cloth even though they could at the most be a bit dusty. "I will let him explain."
His uncle had looked him over one last time. A pair of blue eyes - those clearly were a common Baratheon feature - had lingered on Gendry's callused hands. Without uttering another word, Lord Renly of House Baratheon had swiftly turned around, his coat swirling around him and had left a bewildered Gendry staring after him.
Gendry had sighed. 'That could have gone better. On the other hand, it could have gone a lot worse. I was only preparing my work place. A few days later and I could have been covered neck-deep in soot and would have looked a fright. Perhaps I should enlist Loras' help to break the ice between me and 'Uncle' Renly.'
Things had been simpler and more pleasant when Davos had introduced his cousin, Lady Shireen of House Baratheon to him shortly after his arrival. Granted, he had been decently attired then as opposed to wearing a leather apron when Lord Renly had paid him that surprise visit. Cousin Shireen had greeted him shyly and they had exchanged their first few words with the help of Davos. During his first luncheon at the Red Keep, he had been seated next to her and she had described the gardens to him. When they fell silent she had taken it upon her to introduce a new topic and had given examples of how nice the King and Queen treated her. That had finally loosened his tongue and he had told her of his friendship with the King and with both Princesses, Princess Arya in particular. By the end of that meeting, they were on a first name basis.
When they were allowed to join the royal family for desert, it had warmed his heart to see her delight after he had personally introduced her to Princess Arya. Both girls for some reason had taken an instant liking to each other. Shireen had also petted Ghost without blinking. Gendry had been delighted that she was not afraid and apparently had befriended Ghost before his arrival in the capital. That was immediate common ground and an easy topic of conversation if he was in need of one.
Since Gendry was not very busy his first few days in King's Landing, he had actively sought the company of his first cousin after their introduction and had taken great pains to get to know her better. He had made the most progress during their strolls in the garden with or without Arya present. She had helped him look the part of a Lord or at the very least something closely resembling one.
So it was no hardship to say yes when Lady Ashara had asked him to chaperone his cousin who had been invited to take a stroll with Lord Domeric of House Bolton. He had also volunteered his services for similar future occurrences. Lord Bolton seemed all right and Gendry even enjoyed the walks he took in the company of the young couple. The only awkward moment had come yesterday evening when Arya had pulled him outside after supper and asked him point blank if he preferred Shireen's company over hers. Gendry had needed all his diplomatic skills to explain to her that Shireen was his first cousin and that as her next of kin it fell to him to protect her reputation when she walked with a potential suitor. Arya had sniffed loudly and told him that that was a stupid rule but since she couldn't deny that the rule existed for now, she would help him to protect his kin and accompany them whenever she was free. Crisis averted.
His relationship with Shireen was well underway. The one between him and 'Uncle' Renly, that was another matter entirely. Gendry didn't really know which one of them should take the next step after that short, disastrous encounter.
Lord Renly of House Baratheon knew that his legalized nephew had been in the capital almost three days before he actively went in search of the young man that he had been forced to declare his heir. He had hoped to see him during the first official court session shortly after the man had arrived with the Starks, but his nephew had not been present. When he asked Lord Seaworth why the new Lord Gendry of House Baratheon need not attend, the man had calmly explained that Lord Gendry of House Baratheon had already met the King in a more private setting and was bound by Lord Renly's public pledge of allegiance to King Aegon. This statement reminded Renly of the day that he had kneeled before King Aegon and made his vow. When the session had ended, the young King had briefly spoken to him in person and talked about his brother's last moments. He had also been allowed to read the abdication decree his elder brother had signed shortly before he had succumbed to a wound incurred during a hunt. He refused to dwell further on that. Hunting accident or foul play, a voluntarily signed statement or an extorted one, he had come too late to the game to change the outcome.
Still, he had been curious to meet this elusive nephew. The first time that he had spotted a glimpse of this Gendry had been from afar. A tall broad dark-haired man had been pointed out to him by a servant. His nephew had been walking with a younger girl and two giant direwolves. Renly was the first to admit – to himself not to anyone else - that he was not as brave as his older brothers. Upon studying the two giant animals, he had turned into another direction, deciding he would have ample opportunity to encounter Lord Gendry of House Baratheon some other time. At least the young man was keeping the right company. Upon further enquiry, he had learned that his nephew was close to both Stark Princesses.
King Aegon had pointed out that it was a good thing that his designated heir did not have the ambition other heirs might have. Gendry Baratheon would not threaten his rule over the Stormlands. He had told him that the young man was quick to grasp new concepts and would most likely become a loyal asset and assist him in his duties. And Renly had been prepared to make it work. Even if this Gendry was no replacement for Edric Storm, he could still strike up a friendship with the nephew that clearly had obtained the friendship of the Targaryen King.
When he had asked Loras a day later if he knew where he could find his cousin Gendry, his lover had given him the directions to the renovated building that now housed the improved Red Keep's forge. Renly had been appalled. Legalizing a former blacksmith apprentice had been a necessary evil. For a recognised scion of House Baratheon to be still practising his craft, was a disgrace. He walked to the forge despite his misgivings hoping that perhaps the man was just there for nostalgic purposes. Seeing a younger version of his brother Robert, tall strong and healthy had been a shock. The apron he wore however had been the confirmation of his worst fears. He had hardly gotten a few polite sentences out and had left the moment it became clear that his designated heir had the intention to keep working as a royal blacksmith for the time being. He didn't think he had uttered a proper goodbye before he left.
His feet had carried him to the Tower of the Hand. Lord Seaworth seemed like a reasonable man. Perhaps he could put in a good word with the King and help him talk sense into his lowborn nephew. Provide him with a suitable bride and send him to the Stormlands as soon as it was under their control again. That way at the very least Lord Gendry of House Baratheon could make himself useful by starting to sire the next generation of Baratheons. The Hand had not been available. Renly had been turned away after being promised an audience with Lord Seaworth later that same day.
It had all come to nothing. Lord Seaworth had calmly explained that his nephew was a very skilled blacksmith who had been commissioned by the King to make a special order that only Gendry Baratheon had the skills to complete. He had told him not to worry. That it was not a ruse for the King to look down on his house. He said that when all was said and done, Lord Gendry of House Baratheon would be a name that would be remembered by posterity. He could not reveal more since that was the King's secret to tell, but whatever his nephew would create with his newly legitimized noble hands, would raise the standing of House Baratheon considerably. And as far as his other demand was concerned, the King had already promised to find a noble wife for Lord Gendry and the King was a man of his word. "Give it time," were the last words that Lord Seaworth had uttered before gently dismissing him.
Renly had left the Tower of the Hand with conflicted feelings. He once more regretted that young Edric was no longer alive. Had that been the case, then he could have persuaded the King to legitimize Edric as well and more than likely after some time had passed, the King would have come to realise that Edric, with his highborn mother and noble upbringing would have been more suitable to become the next Lord of Storm's End. Now that was a moot point. He cursed Stannis once more. He had never liked his grim brother who had hardly ever indulged him, almost never giving his ideas, his wishes the slightest attention. But right now, he hated Stannis with a passion.
He had felt such a triumph when Robert had given him the Lordship of Storm's End bypassing Stannis. At least Robert had accepted him for what he was. He knew that Stannis bore him a grudge and that feeling had been mutual. However, he had never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, that the righteous Stannis Baratheon would change into such a fanatic and that his honourable brother would convert and become so devout to an Essosi deity to the point of becoming a kinslayer. His brother had lost his senses and had condemned innocent people to be burned alive. Stannis had even done worse as the Mad King going so far as to burning his own kin alive. He had heard the tale of how Edric had screamed at his uncle for mercy and how Stannis had witnessed Edric's suffering with the same stern face he had always used when he berated Renly for the smallest things such as not cleaning the soles of his boots before entering the hallway when they still lived together at Storm's End. If rumours were to be believed, his niece Shireen had narrowly escaped the same fate as poor Edric. He had not dared to raise the subject with his niece. As a matter of fact, he had only seen her a few times, always in the company of others.
Luckily that night after confronting the Hand of the King, Loras had not been on duty and had helped him to calm down. Loras had told him that he believed everything Lord Seaworth had said to Renly. His lover confirmed that Gendry Baratheon was on a first name basis with the King. He and Samwell Tarly had many secret meetings and Gendry was not a normal blacksmith. He was one of the few in the realm who could work with a special material desperately needed for the coming war in the North. If the King proclaimed that Gendry would bring fame instead of shame to Renly's great house, then Loras believed him. King Aegon had yet to tell his first untruth. After Loras had fallen asleep in his arms, Renly had surprised himself by almost feeling envious of his legalized nephew's good standing with the handsome Targaryen King, … almost.
End notes:
Next chapter Prince Oberyn and Varys get a chance to tell us what they have been doing. Swayed by the overwhelming response to the interlude featuring the young errand boy, Joni, I wrote kind of a sequel 😉.
