JON CONNINGTON
Aegon was stalking up and down the large war room, and Jon was sure that he could see his violet eyes burning with anger.
"We should be making our way to King´s Landing by now." Aegon growled out, and it was easy to see that the dragon was awake and roaring.
"Your grace." The fat Harry Strickland tried to calm the King down. "We are locked in by the Stormlanders, and it will be an easier march to the capital if they are on our side."
Aegon snorted angerly. "They should have already thrown their strength to ours; I shall remember this when I take my throne."
"Your grace," Lord Tyrell piped up with his nervous grin playing on his lips as he tried to win Aegon´s favor. "the Reach shall come to your aid, I have already sent another letter to my boy, and told him of your need for our swords, and I am sure that he will send reinforcement as soon as it is possible."
The man was almost shaking his chair apart in his excitement of pleasing the King, and Jon was grateful that Aegon didn't say something in his anger that would offend the lord of Highgarden.
"I am sure that your son will do everything in his power to make sure that the rightful King will take back what rightfully belongs to him." Jon said trying to assure the lord before him that his help was appreciated.
"Your grace, perhaps we can offer the lords of the Stormlands husbands for their daughters?" Harry Strickland suggested, and Jon could see a glint of cunning in the fat man´s eyes.
The man probably wanted to marry his faithful men to the many heiresses that stood to inherit castles around the seven kingdoms, as there would be many girls standing to inherit lands after the war of the five Kings as so many sons had died in the fighting.
Jon glanced at the lord of Highgarden, and he could see that the man looked as uncomfortable as he was feeling right now.
No lord in the seven Kingdoms would want an officer of the Golden Company to marry their daughters and then be in line to inherit their castles and lands. Especially not the Stormlords who were as proud as they were quarrelsome.
"Humm, that could work. It would tie the lords of the Stormlands to me." Aegon pondered and stopped his stalking around the war room.
"It would be even better to tie Shireen Baratheon to you, your grace." Harry suggested with a barely contained smile on his face. "Perhaps I could marry the-."
Before he could even suggest that he should marry Stannis Baratheon´s daughter and the last unquestioned Baratheon heir, lord Mace Tyrell interrupted him. "The lords of the Stormlands will never follow a sellsword, even if you marry the last true Baratheon, the girl will need to marry a lord of the realm, perhaps my boy Willas."
Harry looked sour when the lord of Highgarden interrupted him. "Isn´t your son Willas inheriting Highgarden? Isn't ruling two Kingdoms too much for a man that was crippled in a tourney?"
Mace Tyrell turned as purple as a ripe grape at the man´s words. "Willas can rule the Stormlands, and my other son, Garlan can rule the Reach as lord of Highgarden."
"Wouldn't it be best if King Aegon just married the girl?" Lorimas Mudd said as he scratched one of his many facial scars.
"But King Aegon has already married my Margaery." Lord Mace looked horrified that the man could even suggest something like Aegon taking another wife.
Aegon seemed to bristle at his words. "My ancestors have been marrying more than one woman for centuries, why can´t I?" It was no secret that the King despised his wife and the fact that he had been forced to marry her for her father´s armies, that were now heading to Oldtown, and most likely wouldn't arrive to help them take the capital for weeks, if not months.
Lord Tyrell spluttered and tried to say anything that would make Aegon change him mind about taking another wife.
"We shouldn't be planning to marry off the girl, if we don't even know if she is alive or not." Jon spoke hesitantly as he tried to calm everyone down.
Aegon glanced at him, then the young boy nodded. "Yes, you are right Jon, and even if she is alive, I wouldn't marry her. Everyone says that her face is deformed with greyscale scars."
There was disgust on his face as he said that, and the men sitting around the table all laughed, everyone but Jon and lord Mace.
Jon had to fight the urge to close his eyes in expiration at Aegon´s rashness at his words. They didn't want to do anything to make lord Mace reconsider their alliance, even though the man couldn't leave for the Reach until they would allow him to do so.
"But we shall have to find someone to marry her," Aegon said, looking thoughtful. "Someone who can hold the Stormlands and keep the Stormlords in check."
Jon looked at Ser Harry, and he could see the man look hopeful and a greedy glint was looking more prominent in his eyes.
"Your grace." The lord of Griffin´s Roost spoke up again, repeating his words from before. "We should not be planning to marry the girl off as of yet, we don't even know if she is alive. Lady Shireen could very well have been killed along with her father and that will throw the Stormlands into chaos as there will be no clear heir to Strom´s End."
"It was foolish of Stannis to take his daughter to the Wall," Lorimas stated. "he should have left her at Dragonstone with a strong guard around her."
Most of the men nodded their agreement with him, but Jon did not.
If Stannis had left the girl on Dragonstone, then the girl would have fallen into the hands of Aegon´s wayward brother, when Ser Davos Seaworth had taken the island, giving the boy a hold on the Stormlords.
It would be preferable for them for the girl to be dead rather than in the hands of Jon Targaryen.
That boy gave him more sleepless nights than anything else. Ever since Varys had disappeared into thin air, they had heard no news about the boy, and they had no idea where he was.
Had he taken Winterfell from the Boltons? Did he now rule the North? Had he been killed? Had his dragons been killed? Or had they been taken by the Boltons and now they had command of fire breathing dragons?
A part of Jon hoped that his namesake had been killed in the fighting, it would be much easier for them as he was the only one that really worried him.
Tommen was only a child, and Cersei was a woman, and it would be easy for them to take the city from them, and Daenerys Targaryen was a world away, and would arrive long after they had taken the iron throne, and their inheritance issue would be solved with a marriage.
But the way Varys had spoken about the second son of Rhaegar made Jon nervous. He had spoken of a man who had lead armies and fought Wildlings.
And for all his good breeding and noble blood, Aegon had not fought in a war, which would not endear the lords of Westeros to him, especially not the Stormlords.
But there was a part of him that longed to see his namesake, to see if he was anything like Rhaegar, and maybe convince him to give up his pursuit of the Iron throne and bend the knee to Aegon.
"But what news about the pretender?" Aegon asked and begun to stalk the room once more.
Marq Mandrake cleared his throat before speaking, but it was clear that he didn't speak willingly and would rather have kept his silence. "We haven't heard any news from the North since Varys left us, and the only rumors that we have heard are that he, along with Sansa Stark have gathered an army to take back Winterfell, and the North."
Not for the first time, Jon wished that they had a lord of the realm declared for Aegon that had spy networks at his fingertips, but they only had the bumbling fool Mace Tyrell and his two youngest children here with them at Strom´s End.
They desperately needed Varys to come back and tell them news of the Seven kingdoms so that they could take the capital and the Iron throne for Rhaegar´s older son, before the Stark girl´s boy came from the North to take Aegon´s throne from him.
Jon was pulled from his thoughts by Aegon grinding his teeth together in his anger at the fact that they didn't know what was happening.
"That usurping bastard is taking the North while I just sit here at Storm´s End." Aegon´s violet eyes flashed in his anger. The young man looked like he was going to continue his tirade, but he was interrupted by a soft, hesitant knock on the door.
Jon hurriedly called for the person knocking to enter to distract Aegon from his Northern half-brother, who was likely making his way south soon.
A guard opened the door. "Your grace, my lords, one of the messengers to the Stormlords has returned, should I send him in?"
"Of course, man, send him in." Called Harry, who seemed to want to distract the young King from his wayward brother as well.
In walked a young man, dirty and worn from the road and bowed lowly before speaking. "My lords, your grace, I have come from Bronzegate."
"Well, what did lord Buckler say man?" Harry spoke loudly, staring at the man before him.
"I never got to meet lord Buckler. I waited outside of his closed gates for weeks and was never allowed entrance to the castle." The young man explained nervously.
"What?" Aegon growled out angerly. "Are you telling me that you wasted weeks outside his walls? Did lord Buckler never open his gates and allow in supplies?"
The young messenger swallowed hard with his eyes open in terror of having angered the King. "He did allow supplies to enter the castle, your grace. But every time they opened the gates and I tried to tell them that I was a messenger of your grace, they turned me away."
"You showed the guards the seal of his grace, did you not?" Harry asked calmly, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that Jon couldn't identify.
"Yes, I did, my lord. But the man ignored it and told me to go back to where I came."
"I gave instructions that you and the other messengers were not to return until the lords of the Stormlands had sworn themselves to my cause." Aegon growled in his anger as he stared at the man before him with his furious violet eyes.
"You did your grace." Marq Mandrake nodded and sent the messenger a look that promised retribution.
"Wait, Marq." Harry spoke and waved him off. "I would like to hear his reasoning of why he came back, despite having orders to the contrary."
The young messenger looked deadly pale and in fear for his life. "Outside the walls of the castle I heard news from the North."
This was sure to help the young man avoid punishment for his disobedience and going against orders, as everyone had been hungering to know what was happening with Aegon´s half-brother. "And? What did you hear?" Marq Mandrake demanded.
Aegon stood there, pale, and angry as he clenched his fists as he waited for the messenger to speak. "I heard from the people around the castle that Jon Targa-."
"HE IS NOT A TARGARYEN." Aegon screamed at the messenger, turning red. "HE IS JUST A BASTARD AND HE IS NOT OF THE BLOOD OF THE DRAGON."
Silence followed his words, and it seemed that no one knew what to say and the young messenger looked afraid for his life. "Please continue." Jon asked the man after a few moments, wanting to move on from this incidence.
He would have to have a word with Aegon about this. The men couldn't see him lose his temper like this, they needed to see him as a calm presence, like Rhaegar had been, and not the barrel of wildfire that Aerys had become with time.
The messenger nodded. "I heard from the people around the castle that Jon Ta… Snow, has taken Winterfell from the Boltons with his cousi… lady Sansa Stark, and he has rescued lord Rickon Stark from the bastard of Bolton."
Jon closed his eyes with horror at the man´s words, he had hoped that Jon Targaryen would not have been able to take the castle of the Starks, it would have been much easier if the boy had died.
Then Aegon´s claim would be uncontested, and it would be easier to take the young dragons if the boy refused to give them up.
It was almost like Rhaegar was standing behind him, sending him a disappointed gaze as he thought it would be easier if his younger son were dead.
But he shook the feeling of, Rhaegar would want Aegon on the throne, and Jon couldn't imagine that the silver prince would be happy with his younger son, now that he was proving to be just like his mother.
Jon glanced at Aegon, who was turning even redder in the face than before. If Aegon had dragons under his command, then no one could claim that he was anything but what he said, and everyone would see the truth.
But it would have been better if he had managed to get one of the dragons that his aunt Daenerys Targaryen had hatched, as they had to be much bigger than the ones the Stark girl´s boy had hatched.
Jon had even heard that one of them shared the color of Balerion the black dread, and Aegon riding him would have been a political gold mine. The black dragon was also said to be the biggest of the three and the strongest, a fitting mount for Rhaegar´s son, who had been named after the Conqueror himself.
But since Rhaegar´s sister was choosing to stay in Slaver´s bay for now, Aegon would be forced to make do with the smaller dragons.
Lorimas cursed darkly before he spoke. "I had hoped that he would have died in the battle."
"Did you hear anything more?" Jon decided to ask before anyone could say anything else, but he felt something like a stone drop in his belly when he noticed the growing fear in the man´s eyes.
"Yes, my lord hand." The man seemed to try summoning the courage he needed to say whatever he had heard; Jon could feel his nervousness grow. "He has also taken his cousin, lady Sansa Stark as his bride and…" The messenger´s eyes darted around the room before he spoke again. "And he called two large dragons to him from beyond the Narrow Sea."
"…What?" Ser Harry asked calmly in a dead pan voice as everyone just stared at the young man before them.
"Jon Targar…Snow has called two dragons to him from beyond the Narrow Sea."
"These are lies." Marq Mandrake said hurriedly when what he had heard had seeped into his mind. "This cannot be true."
"I am telling you the truth, my lord." The messengers insisted. "I would never lie to his grace."
"He is not saying that you are lying." Ser Harry tried to assure him. "Maybe what you heard is a lie or the men of the North are just trying to inflate the sizes of the dragons to scare us."
"Even if they are only inflating the sizes of the hatchlings," Jon shook his head and lacing his fingers together to stop them from shacking. "the lords of the realm will flock to him if they think that he has large dragons under his command."
The boy couldn't have called dragons to him from beyond the sea, it was just impossible.
Jon turned to the messenger and he felt a desire to send him out of the room, just in case of the man had anything else catastrophic to say, but he refused to allow himself to give into the desire and asked the man if he had heard anything else, hoping that he would say no and leave.
"I heard that he rose from the grave and that was how he hatched the dragons and then he sent them to burn those who had killed him in vengeance for his murder."
Jon stared at him for a moment before sighing and sending the man out of the room. He should have gotten Mandrake to send more educated men to have deliver the messages. At least then it would have been easier for them to separate the truth from the rumors of the smallfolk, that seemed to think that every lizard they came across was a dragon and every man that lost consciousness was rising from the dead.
"What do we do?" Asked Lorimas glancing at everyone in the room. "The other dragons must still be small and unrideable, but this changes everything."
Jon turned his eyes to where lord Tyrell was sitting having turned white as snow, this had to be contained and controlled.
"It changes nothing, these are just rumors." The lord of Griffin´s Roost declared for them all to hear and looked at the King of the Seven Kingdoms who was staring angerly at where the messenger had stood. "These are just rumors of the smallfolk that are telling to amuse themselves, everyone who has read anything about dragons and their behavior knows that they cannot be summoned like this."
"Enough of this." Aegon pulled himself out of his staring at the spot where the messenger had stood. "The pretender has taken the North while I sit here, waiting for the Reach lords to make good on their promises."
The King sent a furious look at where the lord of Highgarden was sitting, looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor. "Well, no more."
"Ser Harry, ready the men, we shall march up the King´s road with all of our strength and take the capital before the bastard can even leave the North."
JAIME
He rubbed his brows in exhaustion as the lords bickered around him, all having differing ideas about how to approach their predicament, but after hours they had still not come to any conclusions.
Jaime could feel the urge to start to tear at his hair in frustration at the men in the room behaving in such manner, but he managed to restrain himself.
He glanced at his aunt, who was staring angerly into the crowd of lords, and he could almost hear her scold them in her mind. "Enough." Jaime called, winching at how tired he sounded even to himself. "We wouldn't get anywhere if we are fight amongst ourselves."
While Genna was looked mildly pleased with his words, her husband clearly wasn't sharing the sentiment. "But nephew, we know that this Jon Targaryen has taken the Twins, and most likely killed my family for only defending themselves from Robb Stark and his unwashed savages."
Jaime wanted to punch his aunt´s husband for not only for calling him nephew, which was annoying in and of itself, but for trying to convince everyone of this ridiculous lie that the Freys had been defending themselves when they had attacked Robb Stark and his Northerners.
Not a soul in the Seven Kingdoms believed that, but for some reason the Freys had been insisting that they had been defending themselves after Tywin´s death.
Probably because they couldn't hide under his shadow anymore, and now they had to answer to the new Targaryen King.
Jaime looked at the faces in the great hall of Riverrun and he could see that not one of his lords looked ready to agree with Emmon Frey.
"We have to try and negotiate with him," Jaime gritted out, holding his anger at the man back as he tried to speak calmly.
"Why can't we fight?" A voice could be heard booming though out the hall, making everyone turn to look.
Lord Roland Crakehall was now standing up, using his large frame to intimidate the lords around him. "This Jon Targaryen is just a boy, and his dragons cannot be large enough to ride as he has only just hatched them, if he truly has dragons at all."
"He has dragons," Lord Banefort shook his head at the larger man. "everyone has been talking about how he called two dragons from the east and that he rides the bigger one."
Crakehall scoffed at the man. "Lies," He announced to everyone in the hall. "he likely had a few snakes around his shoulders, and the Freys shit their breeches and thought that Balerion the black dread has been reborn."
While his words caused the men in the hall to laugh, Jaime was once again forced to restraining himself from tearing his hair out. "My lords, while Jon Targaryen having called large dragons from the East is unbelievable at best, we should try and prepare for any situation."
He really didn't believe that Rhaegar´s son had gotten large dragons from beyond the Narrow Sea, most likely the people around the Twins when they had been taken, had seen the small dragons that he had hatched, and now their sizes were being exaggerated with every retelling.
"I really think we should try to negotiate with this, Jon Targaryen if it is possible." Lord Tytos Brax spoke up as he sat beside his younger brother and heir, Ser Flement. "Dragons or no, he still has the knights of the Vale on his side, and the Riverlords will rally to him at the first opportunity."
Jaime glanced at where lord Westerling was sitting. The lord of the Crag was looking worn and terrified, and he seemed to be aging more rapidly after he had heard about Robb Stark´s cousin being crowned King and that he had dragons under his command. Even if they had to be only hatchlings with skulls the size of a cat´s.
He couldn't blame him for being afraid, not after hearing that Sybell Westerling had forced her daughter, Robb Stark´s widow to drink moon tea so that it wasn't possible for her to have the King in the North´s child.
Jaime did not think that if Jon Targaryen ever find out what lady Westerling had done, that he would be pleased by it.
"We cannot hope to match them in battle." Lord Banefort said slowly. "Our army is too depleted after the war of the five Kings, and it has been almost impossible for us to get supplies for them."
The lord of the Banefort had the right of it, getting supplies from the war torn Riverlands was hard, and the fact that the smallfolk hadn´t been working the fields because they had been either killed or fled.
An army without supplies was easy to defeat.
They had been getting supplies from the west, but the road was long and dangerous, and it would have been a lot better to be able to get the food and clothing they needed from the Riverlands.
They had tried to get the farmers that they had conscripted into the Lannister army to start growing crops, but the makeshift farms were constantly raided by bandit's native to the Riverlands, so Jaime had been forced to send men to guard the farms, but the natives knew the lands much better than the soldiers ever could, and many of them were able to evade the Lannister guards without a trace.
"We have to negotiate." Genna spoke firmly, leaving no room for arguments, but true to form lord Crakehall would not let that dissuade him from arguing.
"Lady Genna," He sent her a condescending smile. "I know that war may seem frightening to a woman of your gentle birth, but I can assure you that men of the West will fight more ferociously than anyone else."
Jaime could feel the irritation of his aunt at the man´s words, and he felt himself share that mood. His aunt was the smartest and fiercest woman that he had ever encountered and only a fool would discount her words because of her gender.
He had once foolishly thought that Cersei had been like their aunt, but now after seeing how she had found him revolting after losing his hand, and how she had burnt the Sept of Baelor to the ground in Wildfire, he knew that Cersei was the furthest thing from the wise Genna Lannister.
"Lord Crakehall," Jaime spoke, keeping his voice measured and calm. "I don't suppose you are the one who wants to make the first charge at a fire breathing dragon?"
The man looked ready to respond, but Jaime would have none of it. "I don't suppose that you are ready to recreate the field of fire, with Jon Targaryen playing Aegon the Conqueror and you the Gardener King?"
He didn't believe that Rhaegar´s son had dragons large enough to recreate the field of fire, but this served to get his point across to the stubborn man before him.
The frustration kept rising in him at lord Crakehall´s insistence that they could fight a war against the new Targaryen King, who had the backing of the North, and the knights of the Vale behind him.
"He may or may not have dragons," Jaime said, feeling silly talking about dragons who everyone had thought been gone from the world, never to return.
But here he was, having to take the threat of dragons seriously. Jaime was sure that his father was turning in his grave. "But our army is exhausted, and our supplies are running low, and we cannot fight a war and win as matters stand now."
Jaime remembered before they had taken Riverrun, he had thought that lord Crakehall would have made a good hand of the King, but now he regretted ever having that thought in his head.
The man seemed to take great delight in trying to go against everything that Jaime wanted to do, and he was eager to ride to war against Jon Targaryen, thinking that the valor of the Westermen would be enough to carry the day.
Before losing his hand, Jaime would have shared those sentiments and most likely would have tried to offer the young son of Rhaegar Targaryen the same bargain as he had Robb Stark, to settle the war in single combat.
He glanced at the gold covered steel hand and he felt the loss of his sword hand sting bitterly at him. As he looked at the gold covered hand, he could see that the gold covering the steel underneath was starting to flake and fall of the hand.
"Perhaps my lord," Lord Banefort piped up, looking a little smug at lord Crakehall being silenced. "we should build scorpions, just in case the boy does have larger dragons."
Jaime could see the wisdom in doing that. "Do our men have all the supplies they need to build the scorpions?"
"We have enough wood, but everything else is a lot harder to get, but we might be able to build one or even two."
"My lords," Genna interrupted. "I agree that we should build scorpions if we can, just in case the negotiations break down, but we should put most of our efforts into the negotiations and try and come to terms with him."
Lord Crakehall didn't look like he agreed with Genna. "I find it difficult to believe that the Targaryen boy managed to call two large dragons from beyond the Narrow Sea, I have never heard of dragons doing that." The man crossed his arms, and he looked every bit like a sullen child.
But Jaime was forced to agree with the man, he had never heard Tyrion, who loved nothing more than to read anything he could about dragons, talk about how any of the Targaryen dragons riders of old calling dragons to them in their hour of need.
Not for the first time did Jaime wish that Tyrion was here with him, so that he could tell him everything he knew about dragons.
But thinking about his brother hurt, and he could feel both fury and grief at the same time.
Jaime pushed his thoughts deep into his mind as he forced himself to be in the present.
"We could retreat," Lord Farman spoke up, having been silent for most of the meeting. "we could return to the West and have the advantage of fighting in our homeland."
"And will you be the one to take responsibility when the West burns in dragon fire?" Lord Brax spat at the lord of Fair Isle.
Lord Farman´s face contorted in anger. "The boy didn't burn Barrowton or so I hear, and lady Dustin declared for the Bastard of Bolton, so why would he burn the West?"
"Perhaps he wants to punish us for lord Tywin having conspired with lord Bolton and Old Walder for having murdered the young wolf at a wedding?" Lord Baneford asked in a tone that wouldn´t have been out of place coming from Tyrion´s mouth.
"It was Robb Stark who attacked us." Emmon cried out, his voice shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"How in the seven hells do you know that?" Lord Crakehall turned to face the weasel like man. "You weren't there, you were hiding behind lord Tywin."
"My father-."
"Be quiet Emmon." Genna Lannister interrupted her husband, staring him down as the man seemed to shrink in size. "No one believes that your father didn't attack the young wolf first, so stop touting that nonsense."
The woman who had raised him and been a mother to him turned her angry green eyes toward lord Farman. "If you think that Jon Targaryen will just ignore the West and be content to reside in the capital after he has taken it, then you are of more use to us as a fool, lord Farman."
As Genna started to talk about how the only way for them to come out of this predicament alive was to negotiate, a servant tapped on his shoulder. "My lord, there is a messenger here to talk to you."
"A messenger from whom?" Jaime asked the man with a frown.
"King Jon Targaryen."
Jaime could only stare at the man in surprise, and he could feel his heartbeat faster than before, as both excitement and dread flooded his veins. "Send him in."
As the servant rushed out the door to fetch the messenger, Jaime interrupted the conversations around him. "My lords, Jon Targaryen has sent a messenger to us that will be arriving shortly."
His words caused a murmur to break about around the hall, and many of the lords, especially lord Westering seemed afraid.
He felt like an eternity had passed when the doors to the hall were opened and in walked a tall man with dark hair, clad in black leather armor of the North, with the three headed dragon of house Targaryen on his breast.
"My lords," He gave them a bow and the man seemed to make an effort to keep his face impassive and as emotionless as possible as his stormlander accent rang though out the hall. "my lady, I have come on the behalf of King Jon of houses Targaryen and Stark."
"Have you come to offer us terms?" Genna asked apprehensively.
"No, my lady. His grace asked me to come here to offer you to sit down and negotiate with him, as he has an offer the lords of the West that will hopefully work in everyone´s interest."
Jaime stared at the man before him with a frown on his face. Why did Rhaegar´s son want to negotiate with them if he had six dragons on his side and the knights of the Vale?
If everything he had heard about the boy was true, then he had an overwhelming advantage and would be able defeat them even without large dragons, as the knights of the Vale were one best armies in Westeros, and they were fresh as they hadn´t taken part in the war of the five Kings.
So, why not just attack them with full force?
"Has Jon Targaryen taken the Twins?" Lord Banefort asked, staring at the messenger that Rhaegar´s son had sent to talk to them.
"Yes, he has my lord."
"And no doubt put my family to the sword." Barked Emmon from his seat beside Genna. "I am sure-."
"Enough." Jaime barked at the man, causing the smaller man to shrink away in fear.
"My King did not put house Frey to the sword, King Jon is no murder of children." The messenger spoke up in a calm and collected voice and pulled himself to his full height. "Trials were held and every soul in the Twins was interrogated to find out the truth about what happened that night, when your father attacked King Robb and his lords, and those found guilty were put to death, but those who had nothing to do with the massacre were not harmed."
The man stared at the second son of Old Walder as the men around the room started to speak amongst themselves in low tones, and Jaime felt hope rise in his chest, but the man wasn't done. "You can ask lord Brian Frey, the new lord of the Crossing when he arrives with his new King."
Jaime leaned forward as he asked in a disbelieving tone. "Jon Targaryen named Brian Frey as the new lord of the Crossing?"
"Of course, my lord, lord Brian is both next in line and blameless in Old Walder´s crimes."
Jaime glanced at his aunt, before he spoke again. "Where does your King want to meet us?"