The Keeper
Chapter 75 – Mother's Keeper
"Hasn't your wise and just king explained it to you?"
Lord Jason's demand repeated in Brienne's mind. Her uncle was implying that Griff was not worthy of her trust. Heat flushed her face and she clenched her jaw as she looked up at her king. His features were calm and composed while his hands rested on his swords. It was a casual, but effective, reminder of his position and authority. It didn't appear that Jason's barb had affected him. Perhaps it hadn't. Griff was a strategic thinker, planning several steps ahead, seeing possibilities before they fully formed.
If so, wouldn't he have anticipated the Lord of Seaguard's response? Perhaps his features were so cool because his actions didn't warrant censure. Brienne relaxed her jaw as common sense prevailed. Her anger faded as quickly as it had risen. Griff didn't always share his strategies with her, or with the others he trusted. That didn't mean he was keeping secrets from them. She recalled arguing with him while they were still on Tarth.
"You know the truth of Jon Snow, don't you? You knew and you concealed it from me," Brienne accused.
"I haven't concealed anything from you," Griff denied. "However, there are topics I only discuss when the time is right."
Was this another topic that Griff would only discuss when the time was right? Representatives of House Mallister were here. There could be no better time than now to understand the secrets her mother's family had kept and to learn what her king knew about them.
"Your Grace, my uncle and cousins have not had the opportunity to interact with you," Brienne reminded him. "They don't know your plans to provide for the people of Westeros. They will be able to give us greater assistance if they better understand your thoughts."
Her mother's family saw Griff as an interloper even though he was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Her king had already begun executing his plans to save Westeros. Patrek was here, with them, because of Griff's swift intervention. Her family needed to understand that Griff was intelligent, compassionate, and honorable. As Varys had said, "King Aegon knows kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."
Though she knew her reasoning for making such a bold request of her king, he did not. Brienne held her breath as Griff's beautiful features hardened. She knew her request was impertinent at best and disloyal at worst. She had no right to ask it of him, especially when he was surrounded by his men and various lords, the people whose respect he needed to rule effectively. Griff was the rightful king. As such, he didn't have to explain his actions or his decisions. He did share his thought process and ideas with those he was closest to, but it was by choice. She couldn't force him to explain himself, unless he wished it.
Griff's indigo eyes, the same color as the plate on her uncle's armor, darkened as he studied her. There was fire in them but no heat. He wasn't angry. She released her breath as she realized he wasn't upset by her request. He understood that she would never be disloyal to him. His sworn sword would only make such a brash request if it served a greater purpose.
Griff looked away from her to focus on Jason. Brienne also turned to her uncle, in time to see the confused, almost startled expression on his face. Jason's gaze shifted rapidly between her and Griff, as if he was trying to assimilate swiftly changing circumstances. Color flushed into her cheeks as her uncle's gaze narrowed on her. Griff moved forward, drawing Jason's attention away from her.
"I acted to protect the Riverlands as I did because I understand how power works." Griff spoke loudly and commandingly, so his voice carried throughout the large hall. "I know how power blinds men to their own failings and weaknesses. I've experienced how dangerous it is in the wrong hands. And I understand how men fight, themselves and each other, to obtain it. Power must be controlled for the good of society. Those of us who have it must command it, to use it properly. Your son stands at your side. That is a display of the Golden Company's power, used effectively."
He looked around and met the gazes of many of the Company men. They nodded back, their satisfaction as evident as his own. The acknowledgement was nothing less than their due. Griff was not just the rightful king; he was also the leader of the most disciplined and successful private army in the world. He'd made decisions that had increased the Company's value, esteem, and wealth. He had also guided his men back to Westeros. He could not have done so much without careful forethought and skillful manipulation. That all came from his knowledge of men and their natures.
Griff's eyes narrowed as he turned back to Jason. "History has shown us that power always adapts to fill the void left by the last powerful leader. My aunt's action in the slave cities is the cautionary tale. She disrupted the accepted power structure but put nothing in its place to sustain the society. No one knew how to respond to her new system, or lack thereof. Once she and her dragons left, the former slave masters and new warlords rushed in to fill the power void. Now those she left in her place are fighting a bloody war to hold onto what she took."
Griff paused, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air. Brienne almost nodded in agreement as she watched her uncle and cousins' sober reactions. She had been right to ask Griff to explain himself. Jason was now seeing Griff's calm command, his compassion, and his leadership. Her family was starting to understand why Griff had done as he had. It wasn't arrogance or a display of dominance. Griff was acting to help the people of Westeros.
Serjeant and Ned nodded while the Company men murmured in agreement. They understood why Griff had taken immediate command of the Southlands and seized the empty castles in the Riverlands. Griff had often expressed his opinions of Daenerys's poorly thought-out conquest of the slave cities. He had made his feelings clear to Tyrion back in King's Landing.
"I won't allow you and my aunt to make the same mistakes you made in Slaver's Bay. Your queen destroyed the foundation of people's lives without building a framework to replace it, killed thousands without thinking of the consequences, made enemies where she should have made alliances and allowed herself to be swayed by short-sighted advisors intent on their own agendas. Westeros needs strong leaders the people can respect and follow. If not, all of the Seven Kingdoms will become a wasteland, even without the threat of the Army of the Dead."
"The toll is enormous, as was the blood cost of waging her war in the first place," Griff continued to speak, bringing Brienne's attention back to the present. "People are still starving and dying every day, in her so-called peace. I will not allow that bloodshed or misery to destroy my people or my kingdom."
Griff cast his gaze over the people listening, to ensure they heard the truth in his words. The Company men, the lords, the Stark and Mallister guards, and even the dragons watched him with rapt attention. The Company men stood tall and united while the Stark and Mallister men looked around nervously. Varys, Moqorro and Thoros came closer. Beric stayed where he was, loose-limbed and slack-jawed, but watched with noticeably brighter eyes.
Griff looked down at the dragons. They were calm, surrounded by men they'd trained with and trusted. They sniffed at the air and watched intently, but showed no signs of agitation. Griff left their protection to move closer to Jason. The dragons allowed it, showing they sensed no threat from the Mallister men.
"People say they want freedom, to make their own choices, but absolute freedom is a price they cannot afford." Griff paused when Jason opened his mouth to protest. He continued to speak before the Lord of Seaguard could object. "If they wanted absolute freedom, they wouldn't live in groups, pledge loyalty to their lords or create laws to govern themselves."
Jason closed his mouth and frowned at Griff. The anger glittering in the lord's eyes faded as his mouth puckered in thoughtful contemplation. He was considering what Griff had just said. Brienne relaxed her shoulders, grateful that her uncle was now truly listening to Griff. Her king was young but he wasn't stupid, nor was he impulsive. Griff acted with logic and discretion. Her uncle had started to understand him now.
Griff took another step closer to Jason, physically closing the divide between them. The dragons watched him with focused, reptilian eyes. Still, they remained with Brienne, intent but calm. The Mallister men glanced at each other but made no move to arm themselves. That was also a good sign. They were no longer seeing Griff as a threat, as he deliberately separated himself from the dragons. Perhaps he appeared less threatening away from his fire-breathing children, even if he was still heavily armed and carried the two most powerful swords in Westeros.
"People want order, routine and security," Griff continued. "House Tully had been dangerously weakened by the war of the Five Kings. House Frey was despised throughout Westeros, even before their betrayal. Once I knew Ser Brynden was still alive, my men made contact. He was the logical choice to lead a resistance. Someone had to become the power in the Riverlands, to stand against the Lannisters and the Freys."
Jason looked over to Brynden. The Blackfish straightened his shoulders and stood tall. He had a right to be proud of his actions. Brynden had taken terrible risks, defying the Lannister and Frey armies. He and his men had escaped Riverrun but they had been outnumbered and outmatched. He was a good leader but he'd needed help. If it weren't for the Golden Company, the Blackfish would not have regained Riverrun or taken the Twins.
"The best ways to seize power quickly and effectively are with brute force or with great wealth," Griff continued, drawing Jason's focus back to him. "The Blackfish had neither, so I provided both. Then, in a stroke of luck, we were in position to strike the Twins when House Frey fell."
Arya shifted slightly but gave no other reaction. Brienne glanced at her then looked down at the dragons. The five sniffed the air and growled softly, clearly sensing a threat. The young warrior's expression hadn't altered. Arya had great self-control that allowed her to hide her reactions from humans. Dragons, however, were far more emotionally sensitive. Serdun, Ardayn and Gallan moved closer to Brienne. Podrick, still beside her, tightened his grip on Catren and Allwyn, as he looked between her and Griff.
"So, yes, I acted quickly and decisively," Griff finished, bringing their attention back to him. "I did so to prevent sympathizers of House Frey or House Lannister from gaining a foothold in the Riverlands."
Jason was quiet. He looked over at his son and nephews. They all looked back at him then at each other. It appeared the Mallister men had no response to Griff's explanation. They may have been silenced but Brienne still had questions for her king. She recalled that Griff has specifically asked about both House Mallister and House Blackwood while they were back in King's Landing. But she could not ask him about it outright, not in front of his lords and the Golden Company.
"Your Grace, I'm sure my uncle is grateful for the Golden Company's assistance, even though you knew House Mallister and House Blackwood would pledge themselves to Jon Snow." Brienne kept her tone respectful. "He now sees how hard you work to protect all of Westeros, not just those who've pledged their loyalty to House Targaryen."
She pressed her lips together to keep from saying more. There was no good way to ask Griff why he'd singled out her mother's family or Mya Rivers' family. Not while they were surrounded by so many people. She'd already overstepped by asking her king to explain himself once. She could only hope that he understood how important it was to her to know as much as possible about her mother's family.
Griff looked back at her. He was now closer to the Mallister men than to his own family. Even so, he must have seen something in her tense, anxious expression. His indigo eyes softened and his mouth curved up in a faint smile. Then he nodded, as if to assure her that he understood her unspoken request.
"I had to act swiftly to protect House Mallister. Seaguard is nearly as important to Westeros's safety as Evenfall Hall. Lord Jason said the Freys used Patrek's capture to force his loyalty to the Lannisters." Griff's voice was quiet, no longer raised to project throughout the hall. He was now speaking directly to her, even while under the unwavering gaze of everyone in the hall.
Griff looked over at Jason for confirmation. The Lord of Seaguard nodded gravely. Griff shifted his stance, so he was now able to see his men and the Mallisters on either side. He was standing before the hearth, seemingly unaffected by the heat pouring into the room. His back was to the fire, outlining him in flames. More importantly, he stood almost equal distance from both groups. It was almost as if he was acting as a bridge between the two sides, subtly building ties to the Mallister men without them even being aware of it.
"The Freys were too stupid to understand the ties between House Mallister and House Tarth." Griff smiled his slow, cool Martell smile. "I was not."
The Mallister men looked beyond Griff to Brienne surrounded by the dragons. The Company men also looked down at her before they looked back up at Griff. Brienne ducked her head in a vain attempt to hide the flush burning in her cheeks. It was obvious to everyone that she was the important tie between the two seaside houses.
"Imprisoning your son gave the Freys control over Seaguard, Lord Jason. The Lannisters were able to force your loyalty." Griff paused when Jason scowled then continued. "The members of your house can communicate with eagles. That is a powerful gift but it pales against Brienne's divine duty. I could not risk the Freys, or anyone for that matter, having influence over the Gods' warrior. She is an instrument of their will and the keeper of their dragons."
"And House Blackwood?" Jason asked, while studying his niece and the dragons thoughtfully. "Why are they so important to you?"
"Bloodraven."
It was Griff who spoke but his response was echoed. Bran Stark had also answered when Griff did. Bran raised his head, his eyes now clear and focused. Griff glanced at him but looked back at Jason when the lord took a step closer to him. Jason stared at Bran then returned his focus to Griff.
"Bloodraven died many years ago," Jason insisted. "How does Bryden Rivers's death factor into your decisions?"
Griff paused, as if weighing how much to say. "Brienne carries his sword."
Jason and the rest of the Mallister men turned to stare at her. Brienne's blush deepened and she ducked her head. She slowly unsheathed Dark Sister, hoping to give the color a chance to fade. Silently, she held up the precious blade, the gold flame licks and distinctive rippled Valyrian steel shining in the firelight. Jason took another step closer but was still careful to stay far away from the dragons. The five were gathered around her but didn't react to her taking out the famed symbol of House Targaryen.
"Dark Sister," Jason gasped. "It hasn't been seen in over a hundred and fifty years."
"Yes," Griff agreed. "Bloodraven was the last person known to wield it, until it came to me. I gifted it to Brienne, after her bravery in the battle of King's Landing."
Jason tore his gaze away from Dark Sister to stare at his niece. "Songs are sung in your honor, Brienne. They say the LadyDragon soared through fire and blood, leading her dragons into battle against the Army of the Dead."
Brienne was helpless to control the blush burning her face. Again, she lowered her head and took her time to replace her sword. "The tales are exaggerated, Uncle. I was one of many who fought to protect the people of King's Landing."
Jason's gaze shifted back to the dragon around her. "But you were the only one able to call all the dragons in Westeros to the field of battle."
"No, Uncle." Brienne shook her head vigorously. "The big dragons came when they sensed the young dragons' emotions. Drogon and Rhaegal came to protect these five, not me. I'm merely their keeper. I cannot call all dragons to my side."
"Mya could," Petyr spoke up. "Or at least her unborn child could, if the story was true."
Everyone, including Jason, turned to stare at Brienne's young cousin. Petyr had the same clean jawline, dark hair and blue-grey eyes that were characteristic of House Mallister. He looked to be only a few years older than Podrick, closer to Ned's age than Brienne's.
"What story?" Jason demanded.
Petyr flushed. "It was a story Nana told me many years ago, when I was sickened with the winter shakes. I'd forgotten it until now."
"A story about Bloodraven's sister?" Griff prodded. "What is it?"
Petyr frowned, as if struggling to recall the details. "I wasn abed, and angry because Father and Uncle Jason had gone hunting. They'd taken Lymond and Patrek, but not me."
Lymond snorted but stopped immediately at Jason's sharp glare. Still, Petyr's flush deepened and he scowled at his brother. Patrek, who looked weaker and more worn out with every passing moment, merely watched his cousins with glazed eyes. The Mallister men divided their attention between the dragons and Petyr.
"Laymond, control yourself," Jason ordered sharply. "If this is about Mya or Brynden Rivers, it might be important." He turned back to his other nephew. "Finish your story, Petyr."
Petyr nodded. "I was very young at the time. I was worried you wouldn't be safe without me to protect you."
He looked at Lymond as if waiting for his older brother's reaction. This time Lymond wisely did not comment. Jason put his hands on his hips, as a sign of impatience. Petyr quickly continued with his story.
"Nana told me I didn't need to worry because we're silver eagles," Petyr continued. "She said the Gods themselves protect House Mallister. It has been so since the day Lady Mya gave birth to the future Lord of Seaguard. As long as dragon's blood flowed through Westeros, the silver eagles were under the Gods' protection. Her brother, Bloodraven, had made a pact with the Gods to ensure it."
"A pact?" Jason frowned. "Why have I never heard this story before?"
Petyr shrugged. "Nana had become confused as she aged. I think it must have been just before she passed. I remember being surprised when she came to sit with me. When she touched me, her skin was hot, as if she was burning up. I believe I forgot the story because she'd scare me."
"Scared you? In what way, Petyr?" Brienne asked, leaning forward as if it would help her hear better.
Petyr's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth but didn't speak. He seemed to be struggling for words to explain himself.
"She was so intense, almost angry," he finally began. "Nana grabbed my wrists and pulled me to her. She was very old but her grip was strong enough to hurt. She said Lady Mya was the black dragon whose blood birthed silver eagles. Her screams during the birthing drew her brother to her side. She said Bloodraven was the first to see the future lord, even before the babe's father did."
"Bloodraven was at Seaguard when Mya gave birth?" Jason asked.
Petyr shrugged. "I believe so but I don't know. I was only five or six back when she told the tale. I didn't think to question her."
"Was there more, Petyr?" Griff questioned. "Do you remember anything else?"
Petyr nodded soberly. "Nana said Bloodraven promised to always protect his sister's children. When the silver eagle cries, the black dragon complies. Nana kept repeating those words, as if trying to make me memorize them. It scared me so much that I called for mother. She took Nana away. Even as she left, Nana was still repeating those words."
"When the silver eagle cries, the black dragon complies," Jason repeated. "The future lord's first cries brought his uncle into the birthing room."
Jason looked thoughtful but Lymond waved his hand in a sharp gesture. It was almost as if he was trying to wave away the story. His blue-grey eyes glittered with anger in the firelight.
"So much for Bloodraven's pact with the Gods," Lymond scorned. "If that were really true, Father would not have died at Harrenhal."
The dragons hissed, sniffing the air to locate a threat only they could sense. Everyone turned to look at them. Brienne had to force herself not to look at Arya Stark as she soothed the five. The dragons were repeating the defensive reaction they'd made during the last mention of the fall of House Frey, as they had when they'd last mentioned Harrenhal. Had the five, once again, picked up on Arya's otherwise imperceptible reaction to Harrenhal? The young woman's memories must be painful and disturbing, though nothing in her physical reactions betrayed it.
"What's the matter with them?" Lymond demanded, taking a step back.
"Dragons are far more sensitive than humans," Griff explained. "They feel emotions and can sense intent. They understand your rage and pain at losing your father."
Brienne kept her head down as she stroked Ardayn, Gallan and Serdun. Podrick was still holding Catren and Allwyn, soothing them. Griff believed the five were reacting to Lymond. Brienne was not so sure. Lymond was angry but there was no threat in his anger. No, that threat came from a far more potent, and deadly, source.
"Your anger is justified, Lymond." Jason stared at the dragons but spoke to his nephew. "I miss my brother as you miss your father. Even so, you forget that there was no dragon's blood flowing in Westeros when Jaremey died. King Aegon and his aunt, the last members of House Targaryen, were both in Essos."
A wave of ice washed over Brienne. She turned to stare at Podrick. His eyes were as wide as her own. They both knew that wasn't true. Jon Snow, the bastard son of the last black dragon, had been alive in the North. He'd joined the Black Brothers and had been serving at the Wall when Robb Stark had called his banners.
"Bah," Lymond scowled. "Not true. What about the Targaryen at the Wall?"
Brienne struggled to hide her shock as she stared at her cousin. Lymond knew about Jon's bloodline? How was this possible? If so, why did no one else know? She looked at her uncle who appeared more thoughtful than upset. He didn't seem to be shocked by Lyomnd's statement, either.
"It's said the Wall is guarded by the Old Gods' magic. Maester Aemon was an old, blind, feeble man. Perhaps the Wall's magic overcame his dragon's blood?" Jason suggested.
"Or there is no truth to Nana's story," Lymond suggested. "She was just an old woman repeating stories confused in her own mind."
"But it would explain why the Mountain killed Father so brutally," Petyr pointed out. "Tywin Lanniuster had been Aerys's Hand for decades. He would have known of a pact that gave special protection to House Mallister. Father's death would have proven that the silver eagles were no longer protected, once the dragons had been driven out of Westeros."
Brienne again traded glances with Podrick. Could that really be true? Could Bloodraven, who'd been known to rule Westeros with spies and spells, really have made a pact to protect his sister's bloodline? Seaguard had never been breached and House Mallister had never been challenged. Had House Mallister first become vulnerable after Jon Snow went to the Wall? Was the pact in force again with all the dragon blood now flowing through Westeros?
"Dragons fly over Westeros again," Jason noted, echoing Brienne's thoughts. "Our own blood brought five of them into the world. Before, a black dragon birthed silver eagles. Now a silver eagle has birthed black dragons." He nodded meaningfully towards Brienne and the five. "She even carries Bloodraven's sword. Magic has grown strong again. Perhaps House Mallister has strengthened along with it."
"There are no more black or red dragons, Lord Jason," Griff informed him. He laid his hand on Blackfyre's hilt. "The House of the Dragon is one again."
"How would Bloodraven feel about that?" Jason asked. "He was sentenced to the Wall for killing Aenys Blackfyre, who wanted peace with House Targaryen."
Griff shrugged. "I don't know and I don't care. I want peace in Westeros. The kingdom has seen too much bloodshed already. We will not prosper, we will not even survive, if we are not united."
"You are a different Targaryen than your father or grandfather." Jason looked from Blackfyre to Dark Sister. "Where did you find Brienne's sword?"
"Beyond the Wall." Griff answered. "I knew Bloodraven had taken Dark Sister with him when he was sentenced to take the Black. It was lost when he was. Then I found it, or more correctly, I was led to it."
"The three-eyed crow," Bran stated in his flat, toneless voice.
Griff stared at Bran. "What do you know about the three-eyed crow?"
"A guide, a spirit, and a memory." Bran's normally flat voice took on an odd sing-song quality, as if he were reciting a nursery rhyme. "A white face, a splotch of red and a thousand and one eyes."
"A white face and a thousand eyes?" Brynden frowned at his great-nephew. "Bran, what do you mean? A crow doesn't have a white face, let alone a thousand eyes."
Bran folded his hands in his lap. "One crow does, or did. Another crow now struggles to open its third eye." His voice had lost its odd musical inflection.
Brienne stared at Bran, unsure of what he was saying. Did he mean an actual crow, like the one that had led Griff to Dark Sister? She looked beyond Bran to Tormund, who was once again slumped against the far wall, scowling as he listened. Tormund had said all crows knew nothing. Had he meant the men of the Night's Watch?
What about Jon Snow? Jon carried both dragon and direwolf blood, had been a Night's Watch crow and even their commander. If Arya dreamt as Nymeria, did Jon dream as Ghost? Was their ability similar to Brienne's dream of seeing through the eagles' eyes?
Was Jon Snow the crow struggling to open its third eye?
More importantly, how did all this circle back to Bloodraven and House Mallister? How could such an ancient blood tie between the dragons and the eagles still be important today? Brienne looked down at her burnt palm. It was shiny with puckered skin and colored an angry had she been burned now when she hadn't been burned before? A memory rose in her mind of discussing Jon Connington's injury while at Evenfall Hall.
Jon held up his injured hand and rotated it so they could see his palm. The skin on his palm and the inside of his wrist were the same angry, shiny red as the finger-shaped bruises on his forearm. That was when Brienne understood why the damaged skin looked so shiny. She'd seen burns on people before, from cooking fires and torches. The injured skin would melt and pucker, leaving a clear ridge of bruising. But burns came from fire, not from ice. How had Jon managed to burn his hand on icy roots?
"What did the roots say to you, my Lord?" Podrick asked. "King Aegon said someone grabbed your wrist and spoke to you. What did he say?"
Jon's eyes were dark and troubled. He swallowed visibly before he answered. "Not yet. Someone caught my wrist and said 'not yet'. He held me until I was able to get a good grip and Aegon was able to assist me. Someone saved me from a fifty-foot drop that might have killed me. He kept me alive because it wasn't yet my time to die."
Once again, Brienne exchanged glances with Selwyn then with Podrick. She didn't disbelieve the Lord Paramount's claim. How could she when the proof of magic and the Gods' will was snuggled against her side and sleeping around them? None of them discounted the possibility of divine intervention, not with all they had already seen.
"Do you think it was the Gods?" Podrick spoke in a hushed voice, reaching out to stroke Serdun sleeping at his side. "They kept you alive to join the Great War?"
Jon shook his head slowly. "No, I think it was Bloodraven."
Bloodraven, who'd practiced dark magic, had a red splotch on his white face, had disappeared beyond the Wall, had left behind Dark Sister, and had been brother to the woman who had tied House Mallister to House Targaryen. He was also supposed to have made a pact with the Old Gods to shield his sister's family from harm. How did a long-dead, legitimized Targaryen bastard factor into the Gods' divine plan?
And how did Griff? Brienne shifted her gaze back to her king. What did King Aegon the Sixth know? Griff studied and learned, had been guided by a three-eyed crow and had retrieved Dark Sister, proof of his Targaryen heritage. Did he already understand the significance of his long-gone relative?
"Perhaps there is information in his Grace's research," Brienne suggested. "He has extensive notes about the families of Westeros. There might be something about the ties between House Mallister and Bloodraven."
Griff shook his head. "No, that wasn't in any of the research I did. Most documented marriages are about men and their bloodlines. Only rarely, such as in the case of important queens, are women's marriages considered worthy of note."
Serjeant snorted. "That is the folly of men's arrogance. Half of all knowledge is lost to their hubris. I carry the name Lothston though I never knew my sire. My mother laid with a man who claimed to be the son of Manfred Lothston. He left her with nothing except a babe in her belly. My ma raised me alone but insisted I take his name. She said it was the only thing he left us. She wanted me to use it and be greater than he could have imagined."
Griff nodded. "You have already done so, Lord Loth. You are a man of wealth, esteem, and a landed lord. Soon, you will be renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
Serjeant nodded but the scowl still twisted his mouth. Brienne silently agreed with him. It was stupidity to have ignored or even suppressed the knowledge of powerful women from the past. Would the armies of men be in the position they were today if their stories were included? Would they be scrambling for information to fill the gaps in their knowledge, if women's lives were also valued? Women raised families and passed down history in their stories to their children.
Even the history of most Targaryen daughters had been lost. Mya's story had only been passed down in her family. Would written notes have supported Nana's claim of a pact between the Gods and Bloodraven? If so, was that pact the reason why Brienne was now the Gods' warrior and the keeper of their dragons? Where were the other offspring of Targaryen women alive now? Could those children also birth dragons or play other equally important roles in the Gods' divine plan?
"Your ambitions run ahead of you, son of Rhaegar.," Jason cautioned. "You give castles to your officers and plan for a great society. You forget the direwolves have their own king and armies, as does your aunt and even Yara Greyjoy. Do they agree with your plans and your rule?"
Griff's mouth tightened but his voice was calm. "It doesn't matter. They are no threat to me."
Brienne looked from her king to her uncle. Jason frowned deeply. Her uncle didn't know about Jon Snow's pledge of loyalty to her, nor did he know that Ned Stark's supposed bastard son was a secret Targaryen. That knowledge would destroy the balance of power in Westeros. The North followed Jon because they believed he carried Ned Stark's blood. Would they still follow him if they found out he had Lyanna and Rhaegar's blood instead? Lyanna's disappearance had led to the death of so many Northmen. Rhaegar was the spoiled prince who, they believed, had allowed the entire kingdom to bleed for his sins.
"Bloodlines can be too pure, Brienne," Griff insisted. "They say every time a Targaryen is born; the Gods toss a coin and the world holds its breath. We have been spared that madness. The only way to avoid such weakness is to draw in other bloodlines."
Jon had been spared the weakness of pure Targaryen bloodlines, but the union that had created him might be even worse. Would the blood of the dragon ruin Jon Snow, even without a single hint of Targaryen madness? Jon was one of the three heads of the dragon; Brienne was sure of it. He was necessary to build the three-headed dragon that would save Westeros and, possibly, the entire world. But doing so would mean revealing his true bloodline and robbing him of his title of the King in the North.
Did Jon even want to be the King in the North? He'd accepted the title to lead the Northmen and to protect Sansa and Winterfell. Did his title even matter to him? Brienne didn't know what Jon thought about his kingship. She did know that his title, or lack of it, wouldn't matter if they fell to the Army of the Dead.
"Your Grace, we stray from the subject at hand," Brienne insisted. "The Seven Kingdoms will not stand unless we find a way to defeat the Army of the Dead. Perhaps Seaguard, a castle that has never been breached, which stands guard on the edge of the Sunset Sea, might yield a clue to make other castles equally secure. Was it Bloodraven's pact that makes it so invulnerable?"
Podrick, who had been silently watching until now, spoke up. "My Lady Ser says the Gods guide us, through prophecy, house words and even castle names. Is it significant that House Mallister's castle is named Seaguard, as my Lady Ser's home was named Evenfall?"
Jason looked from Griff to Podrick. "What was the significance of Evenfall?"
Griff, Ned and Serjeant tensed. The Company men stiffened and a hush came over the hall. Podrick flushed and looked at Brienne with worried, apologetic eyes. She could see he was afraid he'd revealed an important secret her uncle and cousins shouldn't know. She patted his arm in reassurance. The time for those secrets had passed. Podrick had brought up an important point. The knowledge and weapon they had gotten from Tarth were not secrets to the Golden Company. Then again, if her cousins had the sight, as they had claimed, then it wasn't a secret to them, either.
"My cousins see through their eagles' eyes, don't they, Uncle?" Brienne questioned. "If so, they know about our visit with my father. What did they see on Tarth?"
Her uncle frowned, clearly not pleased that she hadn't answered his question. Brienne did not waiver. He would have his answers, but only after she had assurance of their claims. She waited for her uncle to respond. Lymond and Petyr exchanged glances behind him then Lymond took a step forward.
"The sun, the sea, Evenfall Hall's courtyard and rocks," Lymond answered. "Then the dragons arrived and took a rock away with them."
"They concealed the rock in cloth, rushes and chests of wood and metal," Patrek added, his voice weak and reedy. It appeared to take great effort for him to speak.
"We also saw King Aegon receive the sword of Targaryen kings," Petyr added. "The griffin has returned from the dead to present it to him. It was covered in the sigil of House Blackfyre."
Brienne smiled with satisfaction. This was proof of her cousins' claims. They could easily have learned Griff had been presented with Blackfyre. No one, outside the Company, knew they had taken the ice rock from Evenfall Hall's courtyard or how they had contained it. Brienne turned to address her king.
"Your Grace, you taught us that information is a power," she reminded him. "My uncle and cousins have travelled a long way to share their information. I believe what they've brought us is helpful."
"Agreed," Griff took several steps closer to Jason. "Even so, Lord Jason, one thing still confuses me. Tell me, just how does an eagle rise to the power of a dragon?"
Jason, with Griff so close, hesitated. He looked at Brynden then over at the young dragons. The five looked back at him with interest but without alarm. They sensed no threat from the Lord of Seaguard. Jason allowed his shoulders to slump, fatigue showing in his softening features.
"I…I don't know," he admitted. "I have only the stories told in our family. Some don't make sense, as with Nana's story. Many tales are twisted in the telling."
"We don't always understand what we learn when we learn it, my Lord," Podrick offered. "Many times, information we learn today has value at a later time. Perhaps the stories you share are seeds that will bear fruit another day."
Jason was quiet for a moment. Patrek sighed heavily, drawing his father's attention. The young heir to Seaguard swayed on his feet. Lymond and Petyr hurried to support their visibly frail cousin. The Blackfish also studied Patrek with concern before turning to Griff.
Brynden nodded to Patrek. "Your Grace, Patrek is injured and weak from his captivity. The Mallisters have ridden hard to join us. Perhaps you will allow them to remove their armor and sit amongst us?"
Griff's mouth softened and he nodded. "Of course, Lord Brynden. We must welcome those who come to assist us." Griff looked down at the men tending the cooking fire at the other end of the hall. "Bring food and ale for our newcomers. A hot meal and a warm fire will help them recover from their journey."
Jason's eyebrows had lifted at hearing the Blackfish addressed as a lord but said nothing. Petyr and Lymond helped Patrek settle against the wall. The heir to Seaguard grimaced but the discomfort eased from his expression once he was settled. The other Mallister men hesitantly set aside their weapons and unlaced their armor, looking nervously at the Company men as they did so.
"Be free to remove your heavy suits and be comfortable. You are in the company of dragons," Serjeant reminded them. "All the armor in Westeros will not protect you from dragonfire."
Brienne looked down at her burnt hand and pressed it against her side. She hadn't forgotten her injury. Before now, she'd been protected from burning. That protection was now gone. What had changed? Why was she now harmed when, previously, she'd been immune to fire?
Her thoughts were interrupted when a Company man brought a plate piled high with salt-crusted fish and bread. The aroma of the fresh fish and hot bread came with it, causing the Mallister men to lean forward eagerly.
Griff took the plate and held it out to Jason. "Lord Jason, I present you and your companions with salt and bread. Let it appease your hunger and assure you I offer you guest rights."
Jason crossed the distance to stand in front of Griff. He tore a hunk of bread from the loaf and winced.
"It's hot," the Lord of Seaguard noted.
"Yes, it is," Griff agreed, not the least bit uncomfortable at holding the steaming plate.
Jason scraped the bread over the crispy, salty crust. He popped the morsel in his mouth and almost smiled. "You have a damn fine cook. We lived on burnt rabbit and dried meats for much of our journey."
Serjeant stood tall. "We are the Golden Company. Everything we do, we do well."
Griff glanced at Serjeant then returned his focus to Jason. "Lord Jason, you have my assurance of guest rights. You are Brienne's kin. Know that no harm will come to you or your men while you share our hospitality. Now eat, drink, and tell us your tales, as twisted as they may be."
Jason nodded. The Mallister men were quiet as they finished removing their armor and accepted plates of food. They settled in a semicircle around Jason, with Lymond and Petyr directly behind their uncle. Patrek was still slumped against the wall, even as he hunched over his plate. Brienne watched with concern as her cousin ate hungrily. He shoveled in fish and bread as if he had only seconds to eat his fill.
She had seen that desperate hunger in the eyes and actions of the starved, battle-scarred people while journeying through the Riverlands. It was far too common among the smallfolk but disconcerting to see in a lord's son.
Griff had plans to save the Seven Kingdoms but his actions would be for naught if they didn't stop the Army of the Dead. The Night King would raise the dead who didn't eat, didn't sleep, and wouldn't stop until all of Westeros fell before him.
Jason ate with more restraint than his starved son but held his plate close to his chest, as if fearing it would be taken from him. It was a silent indication of how long it had been since he had also had a good meal. The Riverlands had suffered the worst during the War of the Five Kings. Seaguard may have been protected from invasion but not from starvation, bloodshed, and grief.
Now her uncle had brought his still-weak son and nephews to meet with King Aegon the Sixth. Yet House Mallister had pledged its loyalty to Jon Snow, the secret Targaryen bastard, brother to the rightful king. How would their loyalty hold up once both brothers were together, when they were forced to balance Griff's timely assistance against loyalty to Jon as a Stark? Patrek had been willing to die for Robb Stark. Would he be equally willing to die for a secret Targaryen?
As the Mallister men ate, the Company and Stark men drifted away from them. They made themselves comfortable around the room, returning to their groups and meals. Conversation began again, as the men relaxed and prepared for sleep or their evening duties. Varys followed Moqorro and Thoros back to where Beric waited. Ned, Brynden, Podrick, Bran and Arya also accepted plates of fish and bread.
"Are you hungry?" Podrick held out a piece of cooked fish to the dragons.
The five sniffed the air but looked away. They gave no indication they were interested in the morsel.
Brienne laughed and hugged Ardayn and Serdun close. "They prefer to fish and roast their own meals, Podrick. They have no taste for salt or bread."
"More likely, they're tired after their long day." Podrick popped the fish into his own mouth.
"Perhaps." Brienne agreed.
She laughed again when Allwyn and Catren tried to displace Ardayn and Serdun in her arms. Griff came to scoop up Catren while Podrick went to settle in Allwyn's cushions. The grey-blue dragon left her to return to its nest. Brienne allowed Ardayn and Serdun to tug themselves free and return to their nests. Gallan, who had been watching the others with bright-eyed interest, immediately slid into her lap. Brienne smiled and hugged the blue dragon close.
"The dragons love you," Petyr observed. "Truly love you."
Brienne smiled. "They are my children. My gifts from the Gods."
"We saw how they interact with you, while you were on Tarth," Lymond admitted. "They have love for your father, your king, and your squire but you are their world."
"So it is with all children," Jason agreed as he finished the last of his meal. "A father gives them discipline and security but a mother is life."
Brienne shivered and hugged Gallan close. Her uncle's words echoed their worries about the Night Queen. She recalled Ned's question when they'd talked on the Sea Keeper.
"What is the power of a queen?" Ned asked. "Lady Ser Brienne told us a woman's role is to create the future and protect those they love and who are in their care. Great queens, such as Nymeria and Alysanne, did just that but for thousands, not just their immediate families. How can that power, as great as it is, strengthen the Night King?"
A queen was, a heart, a mother. That was her greatest duty and her greatest power, to provide heirs for her family and her kingdom. Children created stability because they allowed for continuity in the bloodline. That decreased the chances of war or bloodshed to seat a new leader. It didn't stop families from warring within themselves but normally limited the number of other people drawn into the conflict.
Brienne's thoughts were interrupted when Jason put his plate aside and sighed. She studies her uncle carefully. The hot food had begun to work its magic. Already, his cheeks had more color and his eyes glittered in the firelight. He studied Brienne for a long moment then sighed again.
Jason's blue-grey eyes grew distant and wistful. "You mother gave life to more than just her own children, Brienne. Her birth brought back the silver eagles."
Brienne nodded then looked up to accept a full plate. Gallan slid out of her lap and flew to join Catren in their nest. She, her uncle and the Mallister men watched the blue dragon's short, graceful flight. Beyond the dragons, Griff, Serjeant and Ned stood close together, as if to allow Brienne a sense of privacy with her mother's family.
"You said that before. How did she do that?" Brienne prodded as she tore her bread apart.
Jason shook his head. "We don't know. What I do know is the story my father told me."
Her uncle rose and came closer to her, now that the dragons weren't guarding her. The five were alert in their nests, watching with clear reptilian eyes. Even so, they remained where they were, not sensing a threat from their mother's uncle.
"I was born four years after my sister," Jason explained, sitting across from her. "Allyna's birth was such a wondrous event that King Jaehaerys sent his brother, Prince Daeron, to meet her. My father said the prince was the first to see the newly hatched silver eagle. He'd been standing at the high tower, looking to the sea, when the young eagle was brought right before his eyes."
Brienne looked up from her meal. "I'm not familiar with eagles, Uncle. Is that significant?"
Jason nodded. "Eagles are fierce caretakers. Both the father and the mother protect and provide for their brood. They don't allow their young to leave the nest until they are old enough to fly by themselves. Father said the silver eagle was carried on his father's back and taken before Prince Daeron. Father said the eagles brought their young to pay homage to the House of the Dragon."
Griff took several steps closer to them. "Homage? Why so?"
Jason glanced at Griff and shrugged. "I don't know, your Grace. Prince Daeron supposedly nodded to accept the tribute. Then the eagles flew back to their nest. After that, the prince rushed back to King's Landing. Father worried that the prince had been offended. Prince Daeron assured him all was well. He was eager to inform the king that a guardian had been born."
"A guardian?" Griff repeated. "That was his exact word? Are you sure?"
"Yes," Jason confirmed. "My father was very clear on that. He said his father had been puzzled by the comment but didn't dare question the prince."
"A guardian," Griff repeated then looked at Brienne. "A caretaker, a protector, a keeper. You call yourself the keeper of the Gods' dragons, Brienne."
She nodded. "Yes, the Gods gave them to me. My first duty is to always protect them, to keep them safe to follow the Gods' will."
"It's odd that Prince Daeron said a guardian had been born," Griff mused. He turned back to Jason. "After the prince returned to King's Landing, he told King Jaehaerys about the birth of both Allyna and the silver eagle. That, along with the woods witch's prophecy, convinced him to order Aerys and Rhaella to marry?"
"I believe so," Jason confirmed. "Then, two years later, Rhaegar was born."
"Did anyone from House Targaryen visit Seaguard again, Uncle?" Brienne asked.
"Rhaegar was born during the Tragedy of Summerhall," Jason reminded her. "Much of House Targaryen was destroyed by the flames, both in numbers and in spirit."
Brienne nodded sadly. "Ser Duncan the Tall, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was also killed in the fire. He is an ancestor on my father's side."
Jason looked at the dragons settled in their cushions. "The Tragedy at Summerhall was the beginning of the end for House Targaryen. Fire burned through many members, then Aerys's madness and Rheager's weakness destroyed those who remained. I didn't think the House of the Dragon would recover, until now." He glanced over at Griff. "Now, King Aegon and his aunt have risen from the ashes of fire and blood."
There is also another. Brienne had to press her lips together to keep from blurting out the truth to her uncle. Jon Snow's true identity was the secret that could destroy House Stark and, ultimately, the Seven Kingdoms. The armies of men had to be united to fight the threat coming for them. Their fragile alliance was built on the careful balance between Jon as the King in the North, Daenerys as the Mother of Dragons, and Griff as the Prince of Dorne. Among them, they held the loyalty of all the armies, navies, and dragons of Westeros.
"But dragons, fire and blood, are not the only powers," Jason continued, drawing Brienne out of her thoughts. "My father's last words, on his deathbed, were to never forget how powerful we are, how powerful our house is."
"House Mallister?" Brienne questioned. "Did he say how House Mallister was powerful?"
Jason nodded. "That was when he said an eagle could rise to the power of a dragon." Jason's gaze became thoughtful as if he was reviewing his memories. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "His life was almost gone. I had to lean close to hear him. His last words were 'Never forget, silver eagles can command black dragons.' Then he closed his eyes and went to his eternal sleep."
Sympathy twisted in Brienne's breast at the pain in her uncle's eyes. She knew that pain herself and had seen it in her father's eyes. Losing family was losing a part of one's self. Time blurred the memories but the wounds never completely healed.
"I'm sorry, Uncle," Brienne commiserated. "I regret that you have suffered so much loss."
"As have you, niece." Jason sat down near her. "You lost your mother, your brother and even your unborn sisters. There can be no greater loss for a child than the loss of family."
Brienne stilled as the familiar ache throbbed in her heart. Podrick, who had been curled into the bedding with Allwyn, sat up swiftly. He looked at Brienne with worried eyes. The five also raised their heads, aware of their mother's sadness. Griff stiffened and moved away from Ned and Serjeant. Warmth filled her as she saw how her family reacted instantly when they saw her pain. She smiled back to reassure them she was well.
Griff and Podrick looked at each other and relaxed. The dragons all ruffled their wings as they settled back into their nests, reassured that she didn't require their protection. Podrick laid his head back down beside Allwyn. Griff continued to watch her with narrowed indigo eyes.
Brienne had expected the ache she normally experienced when she thought of her brother, or her mother and the twin sisters who had died in the birthing bed with her. The grief came but it lacked raw emotion that had previously caused the most pain. She'd loved her mother and her brother but they were gone. Life continued. She had a family of her own now. A family she had to protect. That meant putting aside the sorrow and learning what her uncle knew.
She swallowed heavily to push down the ache in her throat. "Tell me about my mother, Uncle. She was a wife, a sister, and a mother, the Lady of Tarth. Was there anything unusual about her life?"
Jason shook his head. "Not that I recall. She was the eldest and would often take us by the ear if we misbehaved." He laughed at the memory. "But she also cared for us and saved us pie from the great feasts. Jaremy and I were always sent to bed early but Allyna sat with our parents. She was sweet and kind. I was so angry when Selwyn took her away from us."
"My father?" Brienne leaned forward eagerly. "How did my parents become betrothed? His home was on the other side of Westeros."
Jason's fond smile faded. "You don't know?"
Brienne shook her head. "My father rarely spoke of my mother, especially after my brother died. He had lost the love of his life and then his only son. All he had left was me." She looked down, suddenly feeling the other pain, the one that was hers alone. "I was a poor consolation for all he had lost. It should have been me who drowned, not Gallandon. At least, then my father would have been left with a worthy heir."
Again, the dragons raised their heads and Podrick sat up. The five hissed while Griff strode across the room. Brienne fought to hold down the ache. Even after all she had worked so hard to achieve, her skills as a warrior, her knighthood, and her efforts to follow the Gods' will, her inadequacy never left her.
She ducked her head. "At least my father was spared the pain of seeing my mother in me. I have my grandmother's hair, my father's eyes, and none of my mother's beauty."
Though her head was down, she was aware that the room had grown oddly quiet. The men were still eating and conversing but they sounded distant, as if her ears were filled with water. Even so, she was aware of the dragons shifting in their nests and Griff coming up behind her. She could feel his heat at her back. Jason glanced up at Griff then looked back at Brienne with dark, serious eyes.
"Beauty is judged by those who see, not those who look, Brienne," Jason said quietly.
Brienne raised her head. "What does that mean?"
Her uncle smiled. "We look with our eyes but we see with our minds. Have you ever walked past a place without remembering you passed it? Sometimes, we don't notice details, even while our eyes are open. Our minds don't see things that aren't important to us."
Brienne stared at her uncle. "What does that have to do with my mother?"
Jason smiled "Allyna was my sister. I loved her dearly but I saw her truly. She was no great beauty."
"No, that can't be," Brienne insisted. "I didn't have many memories of her but I remember she was gentle and warm and beautiful."
Jason's smile grew soft. "She was your mother, Brienne. All mothers are beautiful in their children's eyes."
Brienne shook her head vigorously. "You said she had Targaryen features. They're known for their beauty."
"I said she was born with Targaryen coloring," Jason corrected. "She had Targaryen silver hair and indigo eyes but Mallister features. She was tall and strong with high cheekbones and a square chin."
Brienne's mouth puckered in confusion. "But my father loved my mother. He still loves her. He won't remarry because he refuses to allow anyone else into his heart."
Brienne stared at her uncle. Why was he saying such lies? Her father lived his life in the memory of her mother, the woman he'd loved so dearly. Only a woman of great charm and beauty could have held - and still hold - Selwyn Tarth's affections.
Jason nodded. "Yes, Selwyn loved her. I think he loved her from the first moment he saw her. We first met him when he came to foster at Seaguard. Selwyn was tall, strong, and older than us. We, Jaremy and I, and the other boys, thought he was a hero from the stories. We followed him everywhere."
Jason smiled at the memory. Lymond and Petyr exchanged said looks, perhaps picturing their late father as a young man. Patrek, who seemed to be growing weaker by the moment, watched with dull eyes. Brienne looked from her cousin back to her still smiling uncle, happy in the memories he'd recalled.
"Selwyn was kind and didn't mind us as his shadows," Jason continued. "He even helped us with sword practice. The only oddness was how quiet he'd become when Allyna was nearby." Her uncle laughed softly. "I was only nine. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be with my sister, carrying pails or fetching grains for her, when he could be practicing with us instead."
Even Brienne had to smile at that. Little boys were interested in swords and horses, knighthood and heroic battles. An older boy who embodied the qualities of a hero from the stories but who suddenly became quiet and reserved around a girl would have annoyed them.
"Father was not as slow-witted as we were," Jason continued. "He arranged their betrothal before Selwyn returned to Tarth. I asked Selwyn why he was taking my sister away. There were many other girls, far more beautiful than Allyna, all eager to marry a handsome lord. Why couldn't he take one of them instead?"
"What did he say?" Brienne prompted.
Jason opened his mouth but it was Bran Stark who answered.
"Fire."
Brienne, and everyone else listening to Jason, turned to look at Bran. The remaining Stark son now had a blanket across his legs and cushions where his head would lay. Even so, he was still upright, eyes open but not seeing.
Jason looked to the fire crackling in the hearth then back to Bran. "Is there a problem with the fire?"
Bran blinked rapidly and his eyes lost the far-away look. "No, that was his reply. Lord Selwyn said he was lost the first time he saw the fire in her eyes. He would not need the sun or the moon to guide him if he could follow the light in her eyes."
Jason gasped. "How did you know that? How did you know what Selwyn said?"
"I saw it," Bran explained.
Behind Jason, Lymond and Petyr shifted, as if prepared to join Jason. The dragons, sensing the tension in the air, hissed. Even so, the five stayed where they were. Griff, standing at Brienne's back, and Ned and Serjeant, stiffened. Arya stepped in front of her brother, blocking him from their view.
"My brother can see things we can't," Arya explained. "He also has the sight."
"He does? He can see through the eyes of the eagles?" Lymond demanded.
Arya hesitated but Bran did not.
"Not eagles, crows," he explained.
Arya sighed but shifted to the side, allowing them to see Bran again. His bland expression didn't alter but there was a sharp focus that had previously been missing from his gaze. His dark eyes were clear and calm as he folded his hands in his lap.
Jason stared at Bran. "A crow showed you an exchange we had decades ago?"
Bran shrugged. "In a way, yes. It led me to learn to read into the past, once I have a thread."
"A thread." Jason repeated. "What does that mean?"
Bran shook his head. "I cannot explain yet. We need Jon. He is where the past and the future converge. He is what is beyond and what is here, what is known and unknown. Life is balanced on the tip of a blade and Jon holds the sword."
Everyone stared at Bran. Brienne's heart began to pound as she exchanged glances with Podrick. Most of the men, except those who knew the secret of Jon's true identity, looked confused, their brows drawn together and eyes narrowed. Those who knew Jon's secret studied the remaining trueborn Stark son with consternation.
Brienne looked back from Bran to her uncle. Beyond Jason, she saw the Mallister men. Though they were alert and attentive, fatigue was obvious from their stooped shoulders and curved spines. Patrek, still recovering from captivity, leaned to one side as if he could barely hold his own weight. Everyone was tense, tired, and overwrought. They had all journeyed far and were losing their focus. Now was not the time to press for explanations that Bran was clearly unwilling to give.
Brienne finally rose, now that the dragons had accepted her uncle and settled in their nests. She allowed herself a few seconds to overcome the prickly sensation of blood flowing into her legs. Griff, who was standing behind her, put his hand on her elbow, as if to support her. Brienne watched Jason's eyes darken as he observed Griff's gesture.
"Uncle, you've all ridden long and hard to join us. I know there is much more to be discussed but we are all exhausted. We should rest while we have the opportunity," she suggested. "We know you came to join Jon Snow, as have his brother and sister." She nodded to Bran and Arya. "We expect to meet with him tomorrow."
"I want to review and revise his plans for troop movement and supply runs. There is much to arrange before we move north to the Wall," Griff declared. He glanced at Bran then turned back to Jason. "We'll also discuss more of your family tales, three-eyed crows, the past and Jon Snow's place in it."
Brienne hadn't paid attention to Bran's cryptic words, more focused on her family's comfort and Patrek's obvious weakness. Now his words repeated in her head. What did Bran mean? Sansa, and now Arya, said Bran knew things he shouldn't know. His time spent beyond the Wall had somehow connected him to events beyond himself. He knew about the three-eyed crow, Bloodraven and even her father's reaction to first meeting her mother. How? Not even the sight, the ability to see what another being saw, was enough to explain what Bran claimed to know.
We need Jon.
Did Bran know Jon's truth? It was the secret kept from even Jon himself. He was the result of a forbidden union, whose life had been paid for with bloodshed, tears, and death. Both his past and future were hidden, shrouded by the lies that had kept him alive. Revealing his truth might cost Jon his life, even now. The North was the first line of defense if the Wall fell, held together by the coalition that Jon, as Ned Stark's heir, had built. What would happen if the Northmen found out they were following a Targaryen bastard, a man more akin to Bloodraven than to the Quiet Wolf? Would their alliance hold without Ned Stark's blood to bind it?
He is where the past and the future converge.
Now that she was focusing on them, Bran's words chilled her, even in the warm hall. Brienne recalled their conversation on Tarth. Her father had reminded them of the importance of the three heads of the dragon.
"The dragon must have three heads. All the prophecies must join to describe the various aspects of the three-headed dragon. Three heads with a single purpose."
There was absolute silence for a moment as everyone absorbed Selwyn's words. Griff nearly fell into the chair beside Tristan. Tristan, uncharacteristically serious, watched worriedly as Griff's face paled with shock. Varys and Jon Connington exchanged stunned stares. Brienne exchanged an equally shocked look with Podrick. Only Ned wasn't silenced by Selwyn's announcement.
"The dragon must have three heads," Ned repeated. "Rhaegar thought he would have the three children prophesied to bring dragons back into the world. Princess Elia was only able to birth two so Rhaegar produced a bastard with Lyanna Stark. Jon Snow was that child. Daenerys was born after Princess Rhaenys died. Dragons fly again so the three heads do exist. Prince Aegon, Jon Snow, and their aunt Daenerys are the living children of Aerys and Rhaella's line, the three heads of the dragon. Lord Selwyn, you're saying no one person must have all the characteristics, but all the characteristics must join to describe the three-headed dragon."
Selwyn nodded solemnly. He was now composed enough to resume stroking Allwyn. He also glanced down to check on Gallan sleeping at his side. Brienne, seated on Gallan's other side, drew a deep breath as she tried to compose her chaotic thoughts.
"What are the aspects?" she asked. "What prophecies do we know?"
"The prince who was promised will bring the Dawn," Ned offered. He nodded at Griff. "That's Prince Aegon."
"He shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone." Podrick looked at the dragons sleeping on either side of him. "Or she shall. Daenerys is the Mother of Dragons."
"A warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him." Brienne quoted.
Selwyn shook his head. "You're Lightbringer. You are the Gods' instrument."
"Jon Snow gave her that title," Podrick explained. "She is the light in the darkness. But my Lady Ser is not a burning red sword."
Even as the words left his mouth, Podrick gasped. He and Brienne exchanged grim glances. Then they both spoke as one.
"Ice."
"House Stark's Valyrian steel sword," Griff spoke, his voice tight and controlled. "Shattered by a lion then reforged by dragonfire. Bathed in his daughter's blood, then cleansed by dragonfire to remove all signs of the lions and the stags that had defiled it."
"The sword of House Stark is Lightbringer?" Tristan asked.
"It could be," Griff answered slowly. "It's the only Valyrian steel sword in existence known to be destroyed and then reforged."
"Not just reforged," Varys murmured. "Reforged by dragonfire, by fire made flesh. By the Gods' magic."
Rhaegar had thought that Aegon would be his song of ice and fire. But Griff was the son of the sun and the blood of dragons. His legacy was of fire made hotter in the heat of the sun. There was no ice in Griff's bloodline, nor in Daenerys's. Jon Snow had both Stark blood and Targaryen blood, ice and fire. If Ice was really Lightbringer, Jon could wield the sword of House Stark. He could also be close to the dragons without fear. The five trusted him, perhaps because of their blood connection through House Targaryen. Would they light Ice for him as they'd done so when Jamie had mercifully ended his sister's life?
Life is balanced on the tip of a blade and Jon holds the sword.
Was that sword Lightbringer? It all seemed to center on Jon Snow. Jon was the former Night's Watch Commander, had been north of the Wall, had battled and defeated White Walkers, had ended the conflicts in the North, had first alerted the armies of men to the threat beyond the Wall, had commanded the forces who'd battled the Night King and was willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, to protect his people. Jon was a hero, perhaps even the Last Hero.
The roles of the other two heads of the dragon were clear. Daenerys had brought back dragons while Griff now carried Dawn. They were invaluable but they weren't enough. Jon's undefined role was the missing piece. But how did his contributions fit in with his brother and his aunt? Brienne wasn't sure but she knew the Gods were guiding her. They would give her the information when the time was right.
In the meanwhile, it was best to get some rest. The morning would bring both revelations and confrontations. Jon would be reunited with Arya and Bran, after many years and many tears. Reuniting Jon and Sansa had been enough to bring House Stark back from the edge of extinction. Would the reunion of Jon, Arya and Bran create equally powerful reactions?
Brienne glanced back at Griff. His expression was tight and his indigo eyes were dark. It seemed his thoughts were on a similar path. Brienne suppressed a shiver at seeing her king's set expression. Yes, the remaining members of House Stark would rejoin tomorrow but they might soon be torn apart.
For tomorrow, Jon Snow and Aegon Targaryen would stand face-to-face. The King in the North and the rightful King of Westeros would take each other's measure. Then, the living legacies of the black dragon, Rhaegar's sons of ice and fire, would finally be together.
Winter was coming to meet fire and blood.
Author's Note: This was another talky-talky chapter with LOTS of clues. The biggest clue is the chapter title.
I hope you are all still reading this story. I'm sorry to have been gone for so long. Please take a moment to leave feedback as it really motivate me. I only write for pleasure and love to hear your thoughts and suggestions.