Hello dear readers,

I'm so sorry I'm a day late. I had a very stressful day yesterday and I feared if I published the chapter late at night I would let many mistakes slip. So, here it is today!

Thank you very much for your lovely reviews and your support.

Warning: this chapter is rated M.

Enjoy!

Chapter LVII: Closer yet farther

"I would have said Winterfell is yours, your Grace. But it seems you arrived before me." Robb joked weakly.

"Welcome back." Daeron was tensed. He did not know how to announce to Robb, but more importantly to Lady Catelyn that Rickon was still very sick.

"It feels good to be back. I did not think it would feel that good." Robb looked around him. Daeron nodded at his comment but then, his cousin noticed his face. "Are you alright, your Grace?"

"Lord Stark, Lady Catelyn, if you'd follow me inside." He pointed to the family quarters. He had no wish to announce the bad news outside with half of the North watching. Lady Stark frowned but followed her son and nephew without a word. "I believe you have been informed that Rickon was poisoned." Daeron started once they were out of the snow.

"We heard he had been given the antidote." Lady Catelyn walked in front of her son.

"He was. Unfortunately, it was already late in the infection. His fever has broken, but he has not woken yet. Maester Wolkan and Prince Oberyn are confident that he will wake, but they do not know in which state." Daeron explained. It was too much for the lady whose knees gave way. She was caught just in time by Robb who helped her to a wooden chair.

"Why? Who does that?" Robb was as distressed as his mother.

"Ramsay Snow… He wanted us to lose even if we won." Daeron stated.

"Where is he?" His cousin was now getting angry.

"He's been hanged. His body fed to his dogs; He also killed his father." Daeron did not know how much they had been able to catch up on in White Harbour.

"Did you execute him before or after you discovered he had poisoned Rickon?" Lady Stark glared into the void in front of her.

"Before." Daeron admitted.

"He should have suffered more." She said.

"I agree. But he's dead now, that's all that matters." The King reasoned.

"Right." She sighed. "And Sansa?"

"She's with Rickon right now. She did not want to leave him alone." Daeron justified.

Catelyn nodded. "If it's fine with you, your Grace, I'd like to go see my daughter." She asked.

"Of course." Daeron watched her climb up the stairs before turning to his cousin who had taken a chair as well. He was slumping over the table without an ounce of confidence in his body. "How was Dorne?"

"Your good-father does not like you very much… He only tried once to convince me to go against you but it was once too many. I mostly stayed with Ser Jaime and Princess Myrcella." Robb told him.

"She's not a princess…" Daeron reminded him.

"Right. Sorry." Robb lowered his head a little. "I thank you for retaking my home. I feel I should have been the one to do it but I fear I could not have even if I tried."

"It was only a matter of us all getting together." Daeron reassured him. "I've sent Lord Stannis on a mission to retrieve the Northern lords from the Freys." He informed his cousin.

"I assume once they are free and back in Winterfell my fate will be decided." Robb hypothesized.

"Indeed."

"They're upset." He stated. It was not even a question.

"A little." Daeron admitted. "But it's understandable." He paused. "Why don't you go see Rickon? We can discuss all matters we need to deal with after. We'll organize the trials of our prisoners too. You might prove your worth then."

While Robb went to see Rickon, Daeron met with Jaime. Myrcella Waters had been given his old rooms, the ones he used when he was the Bastard of Winterfell. They were not far from the guest aisle and quite comfortable.

Ser Jaime had aged, visibly so. He had already lost his shine after being Robb's prisoner for a year, but now there was not even an ounce of gold in his hair. His skin was marked and tanned by the exposure to the Dornish sun. Yet, he had lost none of his talent, if anything, it had improved. It was clear that he had trained with his left arm while Daeron was away. He also seemed more alert, and he had lost the smirk he always wore when he walked before.

Daeron sat opposite from him in the solar he had been using while being a guest in Winterfell. When Robert Baratheon had visited Winterfell, starting so many events in Daeron's life, he had been given the same solar. Only he had not used it, at least to Daeron's knowledge.

"Ser Jaime, I've asked you to come here to discuss some matters with you." He started bringing up the boiling subject. "Have you been informed of what happened in the North while you were in Dorne?" He asked fearing he already knew the answer.

The Lannister Kingsguard shook his head. "Prince Doran only gave me the information you directly ordered him to give, which was not much."

"I apologize for that, it seems I'll have an unpleasant conversation with my good-father when next we meet." Daeron sighed he regretted not ordering Prince Doran to inform Jaime – and Robb for that matter – of everything, they were his allies, they should know. "There is no easy way to say things, so here it comes. Your father and your son have arranged a marriage deal for your sister." Jaime tensed visibly. "She was wedded to Ramsay Snow, whom your bastard had legitimized as Ramsay Bolton. I cannot say she was treated well. It has come to my understanding that Ramsay enjoyed tormenting her." He paused gauging his reaction, but he had none. "She was taken prisoner after the battle and still is in Winterfell." He stated. "She is in a comfortable cell, fit for a highborn lady. If you want to see her, I won't oppose it."

Then, the knight's eyes widened. He remained silent, apparently considering his options. "I have no wish to see my sister, your Grace. Simply knowing she is well treated is enough. Though I would ask that Myrcella is allowed to see her if she so wishes. She has not seen her mother in over two years." He explained.

"Of course, you can extend the invitation to Myrcella." Daeron gave permission. "I had another question, Ser Jaime."

"I am here to serve, your Grace."

"I was wondering what you think I should do to your sister." Again, Jaime's brows touched his hairline and he took time before answering.

He cleared his throat before talking again. Clearly, the question had destabilized him. "Your Grace… my sister has committed many crimes but then, so have I. You have pardoned me. I don't ask that you pardon her, I know you could not do that, but I think you should take into consideration the punishment that was inflicted on me." He paused and lifted his eyes to see Daeron's reaction. "Also she can be a valuable hostage against Joffrey and Father. Then again, so am I."

Daeron frowned. "You are my Kingsguard, not my hostage." He clarified.

"They don't need to know that…"

"Indeed, I see what you mean." Daeron was lost in his thoughts for a minute. "Though, back to the idea that her punishment should be comparable to yours… I sentenced you to remaining in the Kingsguard for life… Somewhere you are under oath and cannot do any harm to me or my family. But I only did it because I think I know you and I think you have honour. I do not believe your sister to be honourable. I think she would break any vow in seconds if it benefitted her." He summarized.

"That is because I value honour and she doesn't." Jaime admitted.

"We both know the only thing she values other than power is her children." Daeron looked at him as if asking confirmation for something obvious. "If I offered her exile to Essos with Tommen and Myrcella, do you think she'd take it?"

"If there was no other choice… But I don't think Myrcella would accept it without trouble. She's very enamoured with Trystane Martell and really wants to become his paramour." Jaime revealed.

"Then only Tommen." Daeron shrugged.

"Only Tommen. It's worth a try." Daeron was surprised by Jaime's calm and poise. He had been so in love with his sister that he committed treason and attempted murder for her. Yet, now, it was as if he was indifferent to her fate.

...

To say Robb was struggling would be an understatement. Before they had left Winterfell, Daeron had been impressed with his cousin. He had been admirative of how well and how quickly he had filled the shoes of Lord Stark. Maybe he had even been a little jealous of how much his lords trusted him. Of course, there had been mistakes even then, like the way he treated Lord Tyrion, but Daeron had really started to see Robb's flaws once they had started to march south. The comparison between him then and him now was like comparing night and day.

Robb came to him for any decision, any insignificant choice. Daeron understood that he needed reassurance, but did they really need to discuss which meals would please their guests? Just now, they were discussing something much more serious. Sansa finally had the courage to tell her brother that she wished to marry Aurane Waters after having him legitimized.

"What did you tell her?" Daeron was curious, and also a little anxious to hear his answer.

"I simply told her I would discuss it with you…" Robb shrugged.

"Does your mother know?" Robb shook his head. Daeron thought only now that Lady Catelyn might have brought in an interesting point of view. He called for Ser Jaime who guarded the door and asked him to fetch Lady Stark. He returned shortly with the lady. "I'm sorry to ask you to leave Rickon's side, Lady Catelyn, but we needed you here to discuss Sansa's future." The woman frowned, not understanding. "Sansa has expressed the wish to marry Aurane Waters who I'm willing to legitimize."

The lady's mouth formed a circle. "I… I…" She stuttered.

"They apparently fell in love on the way to the North." Daeron provided some explanation. "I don't know Aurane Waters very well, but from what I've seen of him, he's a devoted man and very loyal. He raises his nephew, the Lord of Driftmark extremely well since his brother's passing." Lady Stark nodded her understanding. "My only issue is that it does not coincides with the plan we had made, Robb." The young Lord of Winterfell could only nod, he did not say a word. "We wanted Sansa to bring a stronger bond inside the North. Before he died, I had thought Lord Cerwyn to be the best suitor."

"Lord Cerwyn was a good man." Catelyn confirmed. "I must say I would like to see my daughter happy, but…"

"But he's a bastard." Daeron finished for her. On this topic, her mind was easy to read for him. "He is from House Velaryon though, the most loyal House to the Targaryens, a seasoned warrior and a hero of the Battle of Winterfell." He reminded her. She nodded sternly.

"If you legitimized him. Would he be another Lord Velaryon and live in his nephew's castle?" Robb finally intervened. Lady Catelyn's eyes widened, it was as if she had just realised how far Driftmark was to the North. She did not seem to like the idea of sending her eldest daughter this far away again.

"It is usually the custom, though he could be given a holdfast somewhere and chose a different name too." Daeron reassured them.

"What if we gave him Castle Cerwyn? It's vacant now. Together, he and Sansa could establish a new Northern House. One that won its title by defending Winterfell." Robb suggested. Daeron was surprised, pleasantly so. He had not even thought of that.

It seemed to somewhat appease Lady Stark as well. She nodded her approval though her face still reflected concern. "I don't think it would be wise for Sansa to marry before Robb though. If we want to ease the bannermen's anger."

Daeron nodded. He had had the same thought. But Robb shook his head violently. "I can't, you know I can't, not after Talisa!" He pleaded. "I'm still mourning.

"It's been two years, Robb." His mother countered. "You're still young and you need a companion in your duties. You also have to have an heir as soon as possible, especially with Rickon's illness." She scolded him softly.

"But I don't even know where to start! Or how!" Robb protested.

"You don't really have a choice." Daeron pointed out. "You have to marry a Northern lady. Once the heirs of the North are back… or… well, let's not think of the other alternative, you ask every one of your lords to present their daughters or sisters of an age to marry, and you chose." He simplified.

Daeron could see it in his eyes that Robb was terrified, terrified and scared. It was clear he still grieved for his wife Talisa and unborn child. Daeron could only imagine what would happen if the same thing had happened to him and Arianne. He would have been destroyed, unable to move on. He thought he would probably have felt guilty too. Guilty that he would have been alive and not them.

As much as he was annoyed by Robb's past mistake, his cousin had never deserved such a fate. At least he could comfort himself by knowing that one of the Houses involved in his demise was no more. Though, Roose Bolton, who had started it all had died a very unsatisfactory death, he realised. The man should have suffered. He should have known torture. He should have screamed and pleaded for mercy. Instead he was given a quick death by his own son. It was stupid since no amount of torment would bring Talisa back, but Daeron felt like Roose Bolton's end had not been fair.

...

The trumpets announced the imminent arrival of the Queen and her suite. Standing next to Robb, Daeron watched them enter through the stone gates of Winterfell. First came Ser Richard, proudly wearing his white cloak and leading half a dozen guards. Then, came Arianne herself, riding a white horse with their son seated on the saddle in front of her. When had Aemon learned to sit upright? Daeron marvelled at his son. The toddler was silent, looking at the world around him with big curious eyes. Behind them, on a cart pulled by one of the guards, Bran was arriving. In his mind, Daeron could not help but compare this entrance to the last time Winterfell had hosted a Queen. Cersei Lannister had arrived in an enormous golden wheelhouse. Arianne was miles away from that, and yet, he thought she looked more regal that way. To close the march, another half dozen guards entered.

Above them, Rhoynax and Weirion rejoined. They circled one another and chirped happily. The white and red dragon even let out a loud roar indicating his happiness to see his sister after a moon and a half apart.

As was the custom, Robb welcomed the Queen and Crown Prince into his castle while his mother, after quickly curtsying to Arianne, forgot all propriety and ran to her crippled son. She covered his face in kisses and held him close. Daeron was still highly disturbed by Bran's lack of response. He weakly held his hand to his mother's back and stared to the void, face expressionless.

Though, Daeron had his mind on something else than his cousin's odd behaviour as Arianne gave him their son. Daeron held him close, kissed his forehead and breathed in the scent of his hair. He had missed his baby boy.

"How he's grown!" Robb marvelled.

"He has." Arianne confirmed kindly. "Though, you." She started lowering her voice and discreetly pointing her finger at Daeron. "Have missed the first teeth. I had to go through it alone." Her tone was accusing but Daeron could only chuckle.

He did not want to be separated from his family for even a second, yet, as usual, duty called him. Some sort of argument between Northern lords that Robb had trouble to settle on his own.

Arriving back to his chambers at night, he found the room changed. Arianne had settled in it and was patiently waiting for him. She looked about to talk, mouth open and looking at him, but he did not let her. He attacked her first, crashing his lips onto hers. Arianne giggled, the sound dying in his mouth. He lifted her up from the floor and carried her toward the bed.

Halfway to the destination, she separated from him ever so slightly still giggling. "Put me down Daeron, I really had to talk to you." She said in between laughs.

"As my Queen commands." He replied playfully and did as she bid.

She landed a small peck on his lips before saying with a beaming smile: "I'm with child again."

Daeron was so stunned he did not find his voice for a few seconds. "Arianne that's amazing." He crushed her against him, lifted her up and twirled her around. This time, she crashed her mouth on his. His tongues asked for access and it was not long before they were lost in each other.

They finally reached their target and Daeron let himself fall on the soft feathery mattress with his wife on top of him. His manhood had become somewhat painful as it was constricted in his breeches. Arianne took care of that for him. Then, she took off her dress and smallclothes all together in one swift movement.

She straddled him and let herself slide down his length. Daeron groaned at her warmth. His hands settled on the soft flesh of her hips and he did his best to keep his eyes opened as his pleasure rose. He loved watching her when she was on top. Her back was arched, her neck bent, and she had an expression of pure bliss on her face as she went up and down on him.

Daeron knew he would not last for long, he had missed her too much and the news she just gave him brought him too much joy. He turned them over to take the lead on the thrusts. He buried his face in the side of her neck and started kissing the sensitive spot she had there while murmuring her name. She moaned his louder and louder in response until finally he spent deep inside her.

...

He had not dreamt for some weeks. Not since Rickon had first fallen sick, he realised. It had already been that long…

It was not Rickon he saw in the small child bed in front of him though. It was a toddler that looked a lot like his little Aemon with silver-gold hair and fine features. The child was paler than his son though and its hair was longer. Beside the bed, Daeron's grandmother knelt. Queen Rhaella had a face stricken by tears.

"Grand-mother?" He asked uncertainly as he approached.

"My boy, my sweet boy." The older Targaryen cried. "The gods took him too soon. My poor little Aegon." She took the hand of her child.

Daeron knew his grandparents had suffered many miscarriages, stillbirths and early deaths in their children, but he had never imagined he would one day be confronted to his dead infant uncles. He rested his hand on his grandmother's shoulder to try and comfort her because he did not have a better idea of what to do in this situation

"The worst is, he was neither the first nor the last." His grandmother continued sobbing. "My first two pregnancies ended in miscarriages. Daeron died a few days after birth, I had two stillbirths, then Aegon who lived the longest and Jaehaerys who did not even make it through a year." Her cries intensified then as she kept lamenting. "I even outlived Rhaegar. My perfect silver Prince. Why? Why Daeron? Why are the gods so cruel?" She seeked refuge in his arms. Daeron allowed her to, he was not about to push away his grandmother when she needed him.

"I don't know, Grandmother." He replied patting her back. "I wish I could have done something. I wish I could have met my uncles." He said.

"I pray the gods never make you suffer through what I suffered child." She tried to dry her cheeks with her sleeves, to no avail.

Daeron woke up abruptly and all sweaty. He guessed he had been tossing for some time. Thankfully, all his movement did not appear to have disturbed his wife who was resting peacefully next to him. It was still dark outside, probably the middle of the night.

Why did he have this dream? Usually, he could find some sort of explanation, a significance for them, whether it was in his immediate future or his past. But what could seeing his grandmother's suffering regarding her children mean? Did he have to fear for Rickon? For Aemon? For Arianne and his unborn child?

As his thoughts invaded his mind, he started to feel his heart beating faster and faster in his neck. His throat clenched. His breathing became ragged. His chest tightened. He was completely panicking.

He tried to take some steadying breath. They worked some. He turned to face Arianne and extended his arm over her. His wife's warm body brought him comfort and he was able to calm down enough to fall back to sleep.

...

The following morning, his bad dream was just a distant memory as he set off for his day. Around midday, he was interrupted during a meeting with Aurane Waters and Robb by Maester Wolkan. The old man carried a raven scroll and claimed his Grace would want to see it immediately.

Daeron took the missive from him. The seal had a stag head on it. Indeed, his Grace would want to see it immediately. The only people who could still use the stag sigil were Stannis and Shireen. And Shireen – who had been reunited with her Onion Knight, a man Daeron had yet to talk to – was in Winterfell. So, the raven could only be from Stannis.

Your Grace,

We have arrived at the Twins swiftly. It is my honour to inform you that Walder Frey and his wretched sons are no more. I wish I could tell you how, but I feel it would be better if you came and saw for yourself.

The heirs of the North have all been released. We also found the young Lady Arya Stark.

I ask that you would consider bringing Lord Stark with you. I believe his presence would be beneficial for the men and for Lady Arya.

We will start marching back to Winterfell as soon as possible.

Loyally,

Stannis of House Baratheon, Warden of the Stormlands, Lord of Storm's End.

"What does it say?" Robb asked as Daeron was finishing reading the message.

"Lord Stannis arrived at the Twins." He reported. "He says Walder Frey and his sons are dead, though he does not say how. And he has found Arya." Robb's eyes widened at Daeron's statement.

"How? Where was she? What happened to her?" Robb asked questions without waiting for answers which was a good thing since Daeron did not have any of the answers. "I though Arya was dead, I'd lost all hope. Sansa said she did not see her since Father's arrestation. She was nine then, how could she have survived on her own? How did she end up at the Twins?"

"I have no idea." Daeron replied even though he was not sure Robb was listening to him. "We should find out soon though. He asks that I fly there and that you come with me."

Apparently, Robb had been listening since his head snapped to his royal cousin. "I can… we can fly? Together on Rhoynax?" He had apparently never even considered the possibility.

Daeron shrugged with a small smile. "Of course, Sansa did it before." In fact, he was trying to get control over his excitement. He would see Arya again, his 'little sister'. Growing up, Arya had been the one who had treated him the most normally. He loved her very much. He missed her. He had worried for her. Actually, he had thought, like Robb that she must have died somewhere.

"We should get going." Robb declared with an enthusiasm that had become rare for him. He got up, but then he paused. "Oh, but we have to tell Mother and Sansa and your wife." He seemed to only remember the other members of the family.

"I can warn them." Aurane Waters, who was still there, offered.

Daeron nodded thankfully at the man. "Thank you, Aurane." He turned back to Robb. "We're leaving immediately. Get ready."

They left through the Great Hall and onto the yard. Rhoynax and Weirion were too big for the courtyard of Winterfell. Well, they could still fit, but they would not have been comfortable, so they had to go outside the gate to find the dragons.

Rhoynax lowered her wing and Daeron helped his cousin unsurely climb to the saddle. The King settled in front the young Lord and attached himself through the chain. He had another chain which he gave to Robb.

"Sovegon."

So, what did you think? How do you think Arya will react to all the changes?

Next chapter: Arya's story. A very useful dream and some good news.

Guest reviews:

- (Tata) I'm sorry you feel that way. But all the things you're pointing out are things that I like in a story... And having only Daeron's POV was a choice that I'm sticking with.

- (Hitman) It might have had x). But I feel like Ramsay would find a way to get out of his cell and flee.