And I looked, and behold, a pale horse!
And its rider's name was Death,
and Hades followed him.
The Tower of Joy 283 AC.
Jaqen H'ghar.
He knelt over the body and said a prayer to the Many-Faced God before he removed her clothing. Piling it in a neat pile he then began his work and only when he was done did he hide the body. It had taken him no more than a few moments to take the woman's life and to make his way back to the tower, the pail he carried now full of water from the well. Two of the knights were sitting outside sharpening the edges on their blades for the fight to come and they paid him little mind. The third sat with the woman as she got ready to birth her child.
"Promise me, Arthur, if he comes promise me that you'll not take his life." Lyanna Targaryen said pleadingly.
"I cannot make such a promise, Lyanna, the king's safety must be my only concern." Arthur Dayne, the famed Sword of the Morning said as Jaqen or Wylla as he'd seem to all who saw him entered the room.
"He's my brother, Arthur, he and Benjen are all that's left of my family. Soon I'll join Brandon and my father, I'll join my mother, Elia, and the babes. I'll see Rhaegar again, I know that's to be my fate. Don't take more of my family from this world, I beg of you." Lyanna said reaching out her hand to touch the knight's own.
"If it can be done, I'll do it. I give you my oath as a knight. I'll seek to disarm and wound if necessary but if I can spare his life then you have my promise that it will be done." Arthur said his words true and Jaqen had no need to play the game of faces to know that was so.
"Leave us, knight, for the babe is coming." Jaqen said his voice not his own and spoken in an accent that he'd never learned.
"Thank you, Arthur, thank you. Look after him when he comes, be for him what his father could not. Daemon, Arthur, I wish him to be named Daemon." Lyanna said and Arthur nodded as he left the room.
There was so much blood and had she not already known how this day would end then he'd have felt sorry for the woman in the bed as her breathing began to grow more shallow. Had it been his god's will then he'd have been able to save her, but only death can pay for life and the life of the babe was worth all the deaths to come. Outside the horses had arrived and the fight had begun, more deaths that were not his to help avoid.
"Such a precious thing." he said as he took off the face and held the babe in his arms, Lyanna's scream as she saw him was one more pained than even the ones she'd made when she'd birthed her son.
"My babe, give me my babe. ARTHUR, GEROLD." Lyanna cried out.
"A man would never hurt this babe." he said his word's calming her down some "A man seeks to save a babe, not to harm one." he said moving over to hand her son back to her.
"Who are you, what do you want?" Lyanna asked, her worries clear and yet just holding the babe in her arms allowed for her to not panic or cry out more.
"A man knows that the men outside will fall. That a babe will grow without a protector and will suffer because of it. That his life will be one far from what it should be and that his life will end in blood. A man gives comes to offer a choice, an offer of protection, guidance, training, and one of justice and vengeance. A woman has a list does she not?" Jaqen asked as Lyanna looked at him.
"How do you know about the list?" Lyanna asked worriedly.
"Many names are on a woman's list, names of offerings to the Red God, a man will protect and guide a babe and in time a babe will become a man himself and a list will be his gift." Jaqen said.
"I..Ned…Arthur.."
"A man can offer only life and death. A babe lives or a babe dies, a woman has a man's word that this is so." Jaqen said and Lyanna nodded handing him the babe.
"His things, you must….for when…tell him he was loved. Promise me, promise me you'll tell him he was loved." Lyanna said her voice barely heard and her breathing slowed down as the Many-Faced God readied to welcome her into his arms.
"A man makes such a promise." he said as Lyanna breathed her last.
He watched from the tower as the Sword of the Morning's promise to his king's mother cost him his life. The small man moving in for the kill and as he did so Jaqen moved from the tower and hurried away. Death was all that Ned Stark would find in the Tower of Joy, death and no answers to the questions he carried with him. They were answers he'd never find and Jaqen cared not as they were not answers he should or needed to know.
Only one deserved the truth of what had led three men in white cloaks and a princess who may have become a queen one day, to this place. That one would learn the truth only when the time was right. He made the pouch and tied the babe to his chest, making sure he was safe and secure and then when he reached where he'd left his horse, he mounted and rode hard. It took him a week or more to reach Wyl and another week to find a ship and sail to Planky Town.
No one bothered Wylla and her babe, no one paid them any notice or gave the babe a second glance. All the while the babe himself was quiet and barely cried, not even when he was hungry or needed changing did he cry out to let you know. He ate though, he ate far more than a babe of his size should and it brought a smile to Jaqen's face to see his appetite so strong. The babe needed to be healthy and to grow strong for the trials to come. Never before had the House of Black and White sought to train someone from the cradle and after Daemon Targaryen, never again would they.
"The Many-Faced God has many gifts to bestow on you little one, a man looks forward to seeing them put to use." he said with a smile on his face, his words true and his voice as eager as it ever got these days.
Planky Town was in mourning, the news of their princess and her children's deaths causing most of those who lived here sadness. Though that sadness was turning to anger and so even Jaqen was relieved it was a Dornish face he wore. He'd considered taking one of the knights when the task was given to him by the Kindly Man. His first thought being that as one of them he could protect the babe without bringing notice to himself.
Had he done so then it would have been Ser Gerold or Ser Oswell he would have aimed for, and not Ser Arthur Dayne. A Faceless Man he may be, but he wasn't sure with even his own gifts that he'd have been a match for the Sword of the Morning and he'd not have taken the chance to find out given what was at stake. In the end, he wasn't given a choice, it was to be the woman and so it was she he'd offered to the Many-Faced God.
From Planky Town it was on to Pentos and from Pentos on to Braavos and now a little more than three moons after he'd set sail from Braavos to Westeros he had returned. Wylla's face had been something he'd not worn since arriving in Essos. While it had served him well amongst the Westerosi it would do anything but amongst those who called Essos their home. Many would seek to take advantage of a woman and a babe in the lands he hailed from, few would be brave enough to trouble him, and should they dare to do so then he was sure the Many-Faced God would see him safely home. Something that he offered thanks to his god when it was proved true and he finally reached the small island that the House of Black and White stood on.
"We're here little one, welcome to your new home." he said as he stepped from the small boat and walked towards the black and white door.
Kings Landing 300 AC.
Oberyn Martell.
Seven and ten years, for seven and ten years that monster and the man who'd sent him had been allowed to breathe air when they had not. He'd sat and waited, biding his time for vengeance and justice at Doran's behest. Then finally on the cusp of getting both he'd thought then denied to him only to get almost everything he wanted. To see the monster not only fall but suffer as he did so was almost too sweet for him not to enjoy. Even though it was not by his hand that he'd fallen, hearing the agony and pain and then hearing him confirm what he'd known all along, was like music to his ears.
He feared for the man who'd brought him this justice, feared where once he'd wished his death. That inkling of a desire that he'd had as he sat and watched the fight begin was now something he felt shamed about. A part of him had hoped that the Stranger would take this man, that the Mountain would live to breathe another day, just so he could have him for himself. Now as he looked at the Lannister guards who he knew Tywin had sent to take the man, he feared for him, and then just as mysteriously as he'd appeared, he was gone.
"Oberyn my love, we must leave." Ellaria said and Oberyn nodded though his eyes were on the Imp and the Lannister guards who were questioning him.
Turning from the grounds, he looked to see Tywin and the Lannisters were already gone and he smiled at that and at the looks on the faces of the Tyrells. This is who you lay down in bed with and soon you'll find that even a lion can give you fleas, he thought as he looked to Olenna. The Queen of Thorns sitting there and staring at the body of the Mountain as it lay on the ground no more than a hundred feet away. With a pull on his arm, Ellaria got his attention and he, his paramour, his girls, and Ser Daemon moved from the seats and out into the city.
He was torn between going to the Red Keep to hear how Tywin would defend himself and going to somewhere private where he could speak to Ellaria and his girls, then Ellaria made the choice for him. Had he a looking glass in his hand right then, he had no doubt it would show him with a beaming smile and when they reached the brothel he felt the need to celebrate. The best Dornish Sour, the best food, and the best boys and girls, he wished for them all, and yet once again it was Ellaria who was the voice of reason.
"Where did Daemon go?" Ellaria asked and Obara looked at her confusedly as Ser Daemon was standing right there "Rogare, Obara. Daemon Rogare, the man who felled the Mountain." Ellaria added.
"He would have known that Tywin would never allow him to leave, I believe he was already prepared for it." Ser Daemon said and Oberyn nodded his agreement.
"He would and did. I was watching him as he spoke to Tyrion Lannister, though I was watching Tywin too. One moment he was there and the next he was gone, lost in the crowd before the guards could come his way." Oberyn said happily, the idea of someone getting one over the Old Lion one that he very much enjoyed.
"What was it he said, Oberyn?" Ellaria asked and Oberyn shook his head not understanding her meaning "When he spoke to us and you offered him some wine?" she added and he nodded realizing now what it was that she was speaking about.
"That he must decline, but should the offer remain open then he'd drink with us at sunset tonight." Oberyn said his smile true as he knew he needed to speak to this man and to find out why he'd done what it was that he himself had so longed to do.
He intended to spend his day here, to while away the hours until Sunset with Ellaria and a boy or girl. It was not to be though as he was summoned to the Red Keep and a meeting of the Small Council. With a shake of his head and kiss to her cheek to show Ellaria that he was in no danger, Oberyn followed with his own guards in tow and made his way to the Small Council Chambers. Varys, Mace Tyrell, Jaime and Tyrion Lannister, Pycelle and Cersei, and the Old Lion himself were all waiting for him when he got there. With a smirk on his face, he took his seat and waited for the lies and excuses to begin.
"My son has informed me that he never met this Daemon Rogare before and Lord Varys can tell me nothing about him." Tywin began "Given what he said during that farce of a Trial by Combat, it would seem he mayhaps has a connection to Dorne?" Tywin said looking right at him.
"Given what the Enormity that no longer Rides said, perhaps we need another trial." he said to a glare from the Old Lion.
"The man was clearly tortured, words spoke under such are not to be taken…." Pycelle began and Oberyn saw Tyrion roll his eyes.
"And yet they are. That Monster was in your employ Lord Hand and he named you as the man who gave the orders for my sister's and her children's deaths." "Oberyn said his finger pointing to the Old Lion.
"You dare accuse my father. You upstart…" Cersei shouted angrily before being interrupted.
"Silence." Tywin shouted and Cersei did as she was bid "Is that what you heard Prince Oberyn, for it was not what I nor anyone else did I assure you." Tywin said looking him directly in the eye.
"I beg to differ with you Lord Hand, the Mountain's words were heard by one and all." he said his eyes locked on Tywin as he spoke.
"I heard a man in pain call out for his liege lords help, call out and beg him to end his suffering, as did everyone else in that arena, is that not right Lord Tyrell?" Tywin said and Oberyn saw the confused look on Mace's face, it was one that he bore a lot.
"Of course, Lord Hand. No one would ever suggest you played a part in such an egregious thing." Mace stuttered.
"You really think anyone would believe such a lie?" he said holding back what he really wished to say.
"The truth is what we say it is." Tywin said and then looked at him more carefully "This Daemon Rogare is he connected to Dorne?" Tywin asked and Oberyn laughed loudly catching them all by surprise.
"You think this the work of Dorne? I thought you a far smarter man than that." Oberyn said and he enjoyed the narrowing of Tywin's eyes "Lord Tyrion, what did I request of you?" he asked looking to Tyrion.
"That I allow you to stand as my champion." Tyrion said and that Tywin didn't react told him that Tyrion had already told him this.
"So there is your answer. I wished the Mountain to fall by mine own hands and no man of Dorne would deny me such." he said rising to his feet and turning to leave.
"Should this man contact you.." Tywin said and Oberyn turned to give him a small mocking bow.
"Then you have my word that I'll bring him to you and since we're all truth speakers here, I imagine that's enough guarantee for you that you can count on me to do as I say." Oberyn said before he left.
The sun was just setting when he made his way back to the brothel and he was stunned when he entered the room to find Ellaria sitting with Daemon Rogare. That the man seemed so at ease when half the city was looking for him was more than a little disconcerting.
"I've just come from the Lion's Den, they seek your head." he said as he took a seat and Ellaria poured him some wine.
"They can't have it, we're quite attached you see." Daemon said and Oberyn chuckled.
"Do you have a way out of this city?" Oberyn asked.
"Should I wish to leave, I have a way. I've not decided whether I wish to leave yet." Daemon said and Oberyn smiled as he took a glass of wine that Ellaria offered him.
"Why did you do what you did? Why seek justice for my kin?" he asked and Daemon looked at him his expression unreadable even to one as practiced as Oberyn was.
"They're my kin too." Daemon said softly, his voice sounding sad for once rather than its usual guarded tone.
"I don't understand, who are you?" he asked curiously.
"I told you, my prince, I'm no one." Daemon said as he rose to his feet "Or at least I used to be."
White Harbor 300 AC.
Wyman Manderly.
He was so deep into his mourning that he had barely eaten. The letters sent to him from Tywin Lannister had barely been opened and looked at. They had killed his son and his king, killed his king's mother and they now held his heir. Roose Bolton had betrayed the North and this was the man they wished him to kneel to. The thoughts of naming such a man as his liege lord had rightfully robbed him of any appetite and were that not enough he was now to host Frey's in his hall.
Of all the indignities he could imagine that was perhaps the worst of them. Wyman grief-stricken though he was, knew what it would mean should they be allowed to sup in his halls. How the people of White Harbor would look upon him and how his granddaughters would feel about being near such men. Even though it may help save the life of their father, he knew what he would need to ask of them was beyond reason, and yet what other choice did he have. He looked to the letters, to the scrolls, and was about to read them when the knock came to the door, Wynafred entering the room and looking worriedly at him.
"Have you eaten, grandfather?" she asked and he shook his head and was about to tell her that he wasn't hungry only for his granddaughter to move to the door and speak to one of the servants.
"Wynafred…"
"You will need your strength in the days to come." Wynafred said her determined tone would have brought a smile to his face if he was able to smile any longer "I was handed a letter by one of the guards, grandfather, a most curious request." she added as she took a seat in front of him.
"You have this letter?" he asked curiously, more so because she'd brought it to his attention rather than because he was genuinely curious.
"I do." she said handing it to him.
He took it and opened it up, the words making his heart beat a little quicker and when he rose to his feet it caught Wynafred so by surprise that she gasped loudly.
"Which guard, Wynafred, which guard?" he asked excitedly.
"Tommard, grandfather, you wish him brought to you?" she asked and he nodded as he looked to the note once more.
To the Warden of the White Knife,
Brandon Snow's descendants send their regards and bring you a gift to soothe your aching heart. Your guard knows where to find me, eat, drink and be merry and perhaps your grief will soon be assuaged.
A rose by another name.
It was cryptic and perhaps to a dimmer mind, it wouldn't have had the same effect it had on his. He knew who Brandon Snow was and so who the rose by another name could be and the thoughts of them being on his side were ones that he could barely begin to comprehend. Yet it seems they were and that changed his position greatly. What they meant by assuaging his guilt could mean many things, but even if they could simply bring about his vengeance then he'd welcome their help.
He ate heartily for the first time in days after he'd sent Tommard to fetch the man who'd given him the note. Wynafred both confused by his actions and yet pleased by them too. It had been days since he'd last truly eaten a full meal and he knew that she worried about him so. Given the worries that she and Wylla had for their father and the grief they shared for their uncle, he knew it was wrong of him to add to them, and yet he'd not been able to do anything other than what he had been doing.
"My lord, the man I met is here to see you." Tommard said and Wyman looked to Wynafred who got up to leave only for him to shake his head at her and bid her stay.
"Send him in, Tommard." he said trying to cover up his excitement.
The man who walked in his solar was a little over six and a half feet tall and built like a true warrior. Were it not that he personally knew all the Starks who had been alive then he'd have been certain this man was one of them. His brown hair and long face was so reminiscent of them that he could very well be a long-lost brother of Benjen or Ned Stark. It was only his tanned skin that showed him not to be from the North itself, that and the accent he spoke with when he did speak.
"My name is Brandon Snow, spymaster for the Company of the Rose." the man, Brandon said and Wyman looked at him even more curiously, thinking to himself that if this man was the spymaster then what the hell did their warriors look like "It's not my only duty, just one of many." Brandon added when he saw how Wyman looked at him.
"What brings you to White Harbor?" he asked curiously.
"To see the North righted and for justice to be given to those who deserve it." Brandon said.
"And who sends you to mete out that justice?" he asked and Brandon shook his head.
"That I'll get to later after I've shown you why you can trust that who I serve wishes to see the rightful rule of the North restored. Your son, Wylis, those letters you've gotten from the Lannisters about him, they're lies." Brandon said and Wyman looked from him to Wynafred who now wore a worried look on her face.
"My father, they...he...is my father dead?" Wynafred asked the words barely coming from her mouth.
"Unless he passed in the night, no he's very much alive, alive and free." Brandon said and Wyman looked at the man more eagerly now.
"What's that you say?" he asked barely able to keep his voice steady.
"They had him held at Harrenhal, an associate of the man we serve saw to his release, he'd have seen to the release of others too, but they were held elsewhere and to be truthful he couldn't be sure that they were who they appeared to be." Brandon said almost sadly.
"Where is my son?" he asked agitatedly.
"At present, he's on my ship which is at anchor just past the bay with the rest of our men. I'd not bring him into the city or your keep with so many eyes that aren't true Northmen around." Brandon said as he looked at him curiously "Your Maester is a Lannister and the Spider has his own little birds that watch each and every move you make. See that the one is in chains by nightfall and then I'll bring your son to you."
"Why should we believe you?" Wynafred asked as Brandon rose to his feet.
"If I can't deliver your father to you then I'm a liar, do with me what you must, if I can then and only then should we speak more. Until tonight my lord." Brandon said with a small bow of his head before he left the room.
He'd no sooner done so than Wynafred rose to her own feet and moved to him, Wyman breathing heavily as he tried to think over what he'd just been told. Wylis, they had Wylis and they were bringing him back home. No matter what other game they had going on, his son was safe and anything they asked of him had to be better than what he'd be asked for by the Lannisters. For his son's safe return he had been willing to do whatever he could, even if it meant breaking oaths his house had sworn more than a thousand years before.
"Do you think him true, grandfather?" Wynafred asked hopefully.
"I believe he has your father, that Wylis is on his ship, other than that I know not his game." he said truthfully.
The wait until night fell was long and hard and he probably paced more in those few hours than he had in the past few years. He'd had Theomore put in chains and had felt vindicated in doing so. He was of House Lannister and Wyman had his doubts about the man's loyalty to the North and to himself from the moment the war had started. While not openly counseling him to put aside his loyalties, Theomore had always spoken up about Tywin's prowess and the dangers inherent in risking the Old Lion's wrath. Wyman knew those dangers all too well and would have simply put the Maester's words down to good counsel were they not spoken so often and so fervently.
Eventually, the time arrived and Wyman made his way from his solar and down into the depths of the New Castle. He stood waiting with Ser Marlon and both his granddaughters until finally he saw a group of hooded men move his way. While Ser Marlon reached for his sword, Wyman shook his head and then he felt his eyes grow watery as he looked into the face of his son for the first time in more than two years.
"Son, thank the Old Gods and the New." he said as he embraced his heir and felt the weight that Wylis had lost as he did so.
"Father, Wendel, I…" Wylis said his voice sounding far older to Wyman's ears.
"Hush son, come, let's get you inside."
The night was spent speaking to Wylis and hearing the tale of how a strange man had taken him and Arya Stark from Harrenhal along with some boys and how he'd then found himself on a ship to Braavos. For almost a year he'd been recovering from the treatment he'd suffered as a prisoner and he was shamed that he'd not written to let him know the truth of things and alleviate his and his girl's worries.
"They wouldn't give me leave to do so father, orders they said." Wylis said to him as his son ate good Northern fare once more.
"Who's given the orders?" Wyman asked and Wylis shook his head "Arya Stark?" he asked and again Wylis shook his head "Get some rest, spend time with your girls, son, I'll speak to you on the morrow. It does my heart good to have you here, Wylis, truly it does." he said with a soft smile on his face before he turned to leave the room.
He asked to meet Brandon Snow in his solar and made his way there. The group of men that were waiting there with him all looked just as he did and they were clearly Northern in blood if not having actually been born here. When he sat down across from them he was surprised to see a familiar face amongst them. Asher Forrester had not been seen in the North since his exile and it looked as if he'd made his way to the Company of the Rose, it was a good omen he felt.
"I thank you for the return of my son. The man who saw to his freedom, you'll thank him from me?" he asked and Brandon nodded "Wylis says that Arya Stark was freed with him, is she here? Is she safe?".
"She's safe but not here, the North is not safe for Starks yet. Until it is she'll remain far from here." Brandon said.
"Who do you serve, Brandon Snow, and what is your game?" he asked his voice challenging as he sought answers to the many questions he had.
"I serve the North and a son of Lyanna Stark. I serve the Song of Ice and Fire and it's time for his song to be sung. The Company and I seek to land in White Harbor, we seek to spread throughout the North and see it brought back to how it was. In time he'll make his way here and when he does, we'll be ready for him. The North Remembers the wolves, Lord Manderly and it's almost time for the wolves to howl once more." Brandon said and Wyman's smile was as true as it could ever be.
The Stormlands 300 AC.
Jon Connington.
More than eight and ten years it had been since he'd set foot in his homeland. At times he'd thought he'd never set foot in it ever again. Even when he'd spent his time with the boy that he'd thought was his prince's son, he'd never truly believed it. Not even when he'd brought the Golden Company to his side had he really believed it and were it not for Daemon Targaryen, then even now as he stepped onto the beach he'd not believe it still.
He was not alone in feeling this way, the men of the Golden Company too had given up hope of ever truly setting foot in Westeros again. That had been why they'd accepted a red dragon instead of a black one and why when they'd found out that the black dragon was no true dragon at all, they'd then accepted a red one even more. Jon tried not to think too much on the boy he'd thought of as a son, the boy he'd loved with all of his heart at one time. When the truth of Aegon had come out and he'd realized he'd been played, Jon had tried not to believe it. At first, he tried to tell himself that it was the other one, that it was he who was false and Aegon was true. The truth was clear though, one was his prince's son and the other was a mummer and while he'd loved that boy once, he'd mot mourned him when he fell.
It had felt good then to sit and listen as Daemon laid out his plans, even Homeless Harry unable to find fault in them and that man was as craven as the day was long. Daemon won over the company in one meeting, one meeting where the truth was spoken and plans were made and one line that Jon still smiled about when he thought of it.
"A Dragon will bring you home, that's what you believe and for more than a hundred years you've waited for that dragon. Here I stand and now you're faced with a choice, follow or not. After another hundred years have passed men just like you will sit here in these very same tents. Those skulls outside will have been joined by yours and by the men who replaced you. Do you think they'll still speak of the Dragon who'll bring them home, or will they speak of the Dragon you denied?"
It had been enough to get them to listen, that and what he'd done with Aegon's face. The knowledge that it was not just a dragon in their midst, but one with no face was enough to perk their interest. When they had spoken up of the payment they were owed, Daemon had told them that they'd be paid by the same man who paid them still, that his son would lead them after all and in the blink of an eye he had become Aegon once again.
They'd then asked if he planned to gift them rewards and were told that land and titles would follow only when the throne was won. That Daemon would make no promises to them before then because what good were promises from a king without a crown. It was when he'd laid out his plans for the invasion itself that things had really fallen into place, Balaq, Lysono, and others all listening as he spoke of two-pronged attacks and the chaos that the realm would be in before they landed. Jon smiled when he heard what he planned to do with Tywin Lannister, and then later that night he asked him how he knew what it was that he knew.
"It's not only the red priests who can read the flames, Jon. I've seen some of what's to come. A mountain toppling as an Old Lion runs as fast as he can so it doesn't fall on him. I've seen snakes slither and wolves howl, twins cry out in their pain and suffering and a shadow cover a wall before being chased away by the light." Daemon said.
"How can you know what any of that means?" he asked curiously.
"By the time you land and take your first keep, you'll see what some of it means. I need to go and go now, time runs short and vengeance and justice call out to me. For the true brother that I lost and for his mother, Jon. For them both." Daemon said as he reached out his hand.
"For your father and mother." Jon said gripping it tightly.
"Fire and Blood, Jon, together we shall bring them Fire and Blood."
After Daemon had left Volantis, the red priestess had stopped Jon as he walked through the streets, she'd bid him join her and so join her he had, albeit reluctantly. Were he in any other place than Volantis then he'd not have done so, but this was their city and while the Elephants and Tigers claimed to rule, it was the followers of R'hllor who truly did. The girl had brought him to the temple and there he'd been introduced to Benerro, the High Priest who'd bid him look into the flames.
He'd seen the truth of things, the last of his doubts fading away as he saw a babe born in a tower guarded by three of the bravest men he'd ever known. Had it been needed? Would he not have followed every word that Daemon had said regardless? Perhaps and perhaps not. Jon knew the boy was true, he'd felt it the first moment that Daemon had spoken to him and since then he'd seen in him all those thing's he'd not found in Aegon. The vision in the flames though gave him the resolve he needed, the final push, and the will to do what he'd been unable to do once before.
"I failed the father, I will not fail the son." Jon said softly as he moved to his horse and mounted up ready to ride to death or glory.
The ride through the Stormlands was one he'd made countless times both as a boy and younger man. Never though had he done so with 5,000 men at his command and when they reached Griffin's Roost he almost wept. He'd dreamed of this moment, among the many moments he'd dreamt of over the years and as he sent riders ahead for the parley he looked forward to seeing king once more. It wasn't his cousin Ronald who rode out to meet him, though the man who did could only be his son. Jon smiling to see the Griffin's emblazoned on his shield and embossed on his armor.
"Who are you and what brings you to my lands?" the young man said as Jon removed his helm.
"They were and are still my lands, boy." he said as he looked at his cousin's son.
"Jon? It can be, you're dead."
"Am I indeed." Jon said with a chuckle "You've grown into a man, Ronnet, a fine young man. Were I here for any other reason then I'd take comfort in that. Alas, my reason here requires me to look past our kinship and offer you the same terms that I'd offer any other man. Surrender and keep your position, force me to fight you and lose your life." Jon said hoping the boy was no fool.
"What assurances do I have that you don't just wish Griffin's Roost for yourself, that you're not just here to take it back?" Ronnet asked worriedly as he looked and seemed to for the first time realize just how desperate his position was.
"I seek a far larger prize and while this is my home by the laws of gods and men, even before I was exiled I had spent little time behind its walls. I could take it from you and name you castellan like your father before you. I could take it and your life and yet I have no desire to fight against kin. Accept my terms and in time you'll see our House regain what it once had. Change is coming to Westeros, boy, change is coming and you can either be a part of that change or be in its way, the choice is yours." Jon willed his cousin's son to accept his words as he spoke them and breathed relievedly when he did so.
An hour later he was riding in through the gates of Griffin's Roost and despite himself, the tears fell anyway. After his men set to work making sure the keep was now properly protected, he bid Ronnet take him to what had once been his solar, and as they walked through the corridors, Jon nodded to servants and guards who'd been here from when he had been lord. Some recognized him, some did not, and most looked at him with wariness and disbelief.
"You changed it?" he asked Ronnet when they entered the solar.
"Father did." Ronnet replied.
"I was sorry to hear about his passing." Jon said to a nod from the younger man "Now tell me about the state of the realm?" he said taking a seat and nodding when Ronnet offered him some wine.
That night he ate with family for the first time in years. Ronnet's brother and sister, Raymund and Alynne had been born after his exile and so were unknown to him and he to them. As was Ronnet's bastard son Ronald who looked at him warily and whose eyes showed a fierceness that Jon was pleased to see. Despite who he ate with and the quality of the food itself, Jon's mind was on something and someone else. The Mountain had fallen just as Daemon had said he would and Westeros was now ripe and ready to be taken over. A dragon would sit the throne once again and Jon would play his part in seeing that this time there would be no one who dared stand in his way.
The Vale 300 AC.
Alayne.
She wiped her mouth and almost fell onto the bed, her disgust and distaste for once stronger than her anger. Each time she met with him was a time where he took more liberties and she feared that it was only a matter of time before a visit from him wouldn't end with simply a kiss. That he wanted her in that way had come as a shock to her at first. So desperate had she been for a father's love that she had assumed the kisses to her forehead and cheek to be just a sign of that. Kisses to her lips however proved the truth in what it was that Littlefinger saw her as and it wasn't as his bastard daughter.
They had gone at first to Littlefinger's own keep where he had informed her that she needed to play the role of his daughter, his bastard daughter which had shocked her to her very core. The thoughts of the mummery and why it was needed both confusing and worrying to her at the same time. True she knew that the Lannister's would seek her out, especially given what had happened to Joffrey, but she was or would be with family, she was safe, wasn't she? As each day went by and she became more Alayne than Sansa, she was beginning to think she was not.
Never was this more apparent to her than when the bard had tried to rape her. Was it not for Ser Lothar then she feared that he'd have been successful and yet even after he had attempted such a heinous act, he'd received no punishment. Littlefinger had refused to see him pay for what he had tried to do and had muttered something about the man having a use and Sansa had begun to find herself just as fearful here as she had been in the Red Keep. More so when she spent time with her aunt as while Cersei was cruel, Sansa was beginning to believe that Lysa was mad and far more dangerous.
Rising from the bed, she moved to the looking glass and sighed, her blue eyes the only sign of who she truly was. Her hair was dark and dull and not its vibrant self and she wondered if like her name it too was lost to her. Shaking her head, she felt her resolve grow and stared at her reflection. She was growing and was almost a woman now and that brought its own challenges. Men now wished more from her than just what her name would bring and unlike a lady, a bastard was fair game and suffered from more than just lustful looks.
"I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell, I will go home." she said softly to herself as she turned and walked from the room.
Walking into the Great Hall she tried not to let the way they looked at her bother her, she tried and failed and was glad for once for the empty seat beside Petyr and Lysa. Despite her status or perceived status, they always wished for her to sit with them and Sweetrobin, and even being forced to endure her cousin's attention was more welcome than not. As she took her seat she saw Harrold Hardyng look at her lustfully, the knight turning to speak to some of the other men at his table and she had no need to be there to know she was the topic of conversation. At her own table, she was surprised to find a much different topic being discussed and she listened eagerly as Robin droned on about something and she tried to eat.
"Daemon Rogare." Littlefinger said.
"I thought all the Rogare's had fallen, Petyr?" Lysa asked.
"Apparently not, my love. Though why one would seek to face the Mountain is beyond me."
"How did he beat him Petyr and what does this mean for…" Lysa said and Sansa caught how Littlefinger hushed her aunt when he caught her listening.
"Can we play today, Alayne?" she heard her cousin ask, and though she hated the thoughts of it, she knew she had no choice.
"Of course, my lord." she said with a false smile, unlike the one her cousin and his mother now wore.
Over the course of the day she heard snippets about what had happened in King's Landing. A trial by combat had been held and Daemon Rogare had stood as Tyrion's champion and had faced off against the Mountain. She felt guilty about Tyrion being blamed for something that she now knew he had not done. He'd been kind to her, kind when no one else had and she'd not wished him to come to any harm. Sansa thanked the seven for Daemon Rogare coming to his aid and for him seeing to Tyrion's freedom.
It was hard for her to keep her joy from her face at both the news of the Mountain's fall and at what he had confessed. Could this be the thing that turned people against the Lannisters and forced their downfall? Would it be enough to see them pay for all they had done? She doubted it and yet it filled her with the hope that it could well be. That this could even be the start of such and that in time she'd get her life back and be who she was meant to be. All through the day, she'd felt that hope rise and it was only when her aunt confronted her that night that she felt it fall once more. Sansa not sure why Lysa had sought her out and come to her room, and not liking the look in her aunt's eye as she did so.
"Petyr agrees with me." Lysa said happily and Sansa looked at her curiously.
"My lady?" she asked not naming Lysa as her aunt as she'd been told off for doing so more than once.
"That what has happened in King's Landing changes things." Lysa said, and her smile was now starting to worry Sansa.
"In what way, my lady?" she asked genuinely confused.
"You really are just a stupid little girl aren't you? Petyr said you were but I'd not believed him, but you really are, aren't you?" Lysa said almost gleefully.
"I don't understand what has happened, my lady, I heard something about a trial but…"
"Gods." Lysa said almost in a huff before she began to explain her version of the events in King's Landing and what it would or could mean.
Sansa found it ironic that her aunt thought her to be stupid, as listening to her as she spoke of what had occurred it was clear that either Littlefinger had lied to her or her aunt had no grasp on politics whatsoever. Yet after she left that night, it wasn't that which Sansa found her mind dwelling upon. It was the last words she had said and as she lay crying in her bed, she cursed her fate once more. To be forced into a marriage against her will once again, was this to be her life? Was the world that cruel and was there no one out there who'd come and see to her rescue?.
"I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell and I wish to go home." she said as her tears fell.
King's Landing 300 AC.
Daemon Targaryen.
Disappearing into the crowd had been easy, even had he not changed his face it would have been so but once he had, he was then gone from their sight. Silver hair stuck out and so he'd taken Aegon's face off and wore his own as he moved through the streets of the city. His destination had been the inns and taverns and he'd spent much coin while there. Soon the songs would be sung and they'd travel quicker even than the ravens that Tywin would send to deny the truth of things, Daemon's truth would spread faster than Tywin's lie.
He made his way back to his true resting place, the one where he actually slept and not the one that Daemon Rogare rented. They'd find enough of his stuff there to think him still in the city and that served him well for now. The time to meet with Oberyn and Ellaria was almost at hand and as he walked to the brothel he pondered his next move. Should he wish it he could end Tywin and the rest of the Lannister's tonight. A part of him finding the thoughts of it appealing and yet he knew he would not, not yet at least. There were many names on his list and he wished to see them all fall and not just some of them.
When he entered the brothel it was once again wearing Aegon's face and he found that Ellaria was alone with her two guards and he wondered if all Westerosi were so causal in their protection. In Essos he'd faced off against men who took their safety far more seriously and it made him chuckle just a little. Had the House of Black and White been based here then their work would be so much easier and it finally hit him why Jaqen had liked it so much when a name came from Westeros. The old man was getting slower over time and had fallen to him more than once in their games, here he'd be as dangerous as Ser Arthur Dayne in his prime should he wish it.
"I worried you'd not come, Oberyn will be most pleased you have." Ellaria said as he took his seat and accepted the wine that she offered.
"I try to keep to my word, my lady, it's the least a man can do." he said and she smiled at him, a pretty smile he thought as he looked at her.
"Oberyn was called to a meeting, about you no doubt." Ellaria said and he was glad to see that she didn't seem worried or concerned.
"It won't be the last meeting to be held about me, my lady, and in time this one will be the least problematic of them all." he said as she looked at him curiously.
"There is something about you Daemon, something that I can't quite discern." she said as she stared at him.
"I'm a man full of mystery, my lady." he said and she laughed fully.
When Oberyn arrived they spoke and had some back and forth and Daemon found himself considering just how much he should reveal to him and how much he should keep hidden for now. Having made his mind up about his next destination, he felt it for the best if he told as much of the truth as he was willing to. It was when Oberyn brought up Aegon and Rhaenys that he felt even more certain that he needed to tell him that truth, the prince's feelings were as clear to him as if they were playing the game of faces.
"They're my kin too." he said softly, his own true feelings coming out for once.
"I don't understand, who are you?" Oberyn asked. curiously.
"I told you, my prince, I'm no one." Daemon said as he rose to his feet "Or at least I used to be." Daemon added and as he did so he removed the face and stood there in front of them for the first time as who he really was.
That Oberyn moved to Ellaria and drew his knife was to be expected and it showed the prince to be far cleverer than some.
"You're a Faceless Man." Oberyn said, a statement rather than a question.
"Not only." he said and Oberyn looked at him warily "My name is Daemon Targaryen, Rightful King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men. Son to parents whose future was stolen from them. Brother to a murdered sister and brother and I and the Many-Faced God will have our vengeance both in this life and the next" he said as Oberyn stared at him open-mouthed.
"How, I..How?" Oberyn said as he looked at him.
"A life not lived, my prince, a life not lived. Had things turned out how they were supposed to then today we'd be celebrating my brother's wedding. My sister would have already birthed her first son and I would be getting knocked on my arse by Ser Arthur Dayne as my parents and your sister looked on and laughed." he said softly, trying not to remember what it was he'd seen and the life that could have been.
"I don't…Your parents?" Oberyn asked as Ellaria poured him another glass of wine, one which he swallowed down quickly.
"Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife Lyanna. They were wed before the gods of my mother and my father, wed with Elia's blessing as far as I know, though I have no proof of such. My father wished for more children, Prince Oberyn, our House needed it and Princess Elia could bear no more. In time my mother would have gifted him two more sons and a daughter, in time I'd have served as Aegon's Hand, but time waits for no one and we're all but slaves to its whims." he said and it was Ellaria who spoke rather than Oberyn.
"You have proof of your birth?" Ellaria asked and Daemon nodded "Where, when?
"I was born in the Tower of Joy in 283 AC, two moons after my family had fallen. From there I was taken to Braavos and trained and in time I was told the truth of myself and what it was I must do." he said and Oberyn looked at him.
"Which is?"
"Finish my mother's list and take my rightful place." he said and Oberyn shook his head.
"You expect Dorne to rise for you?" Oberyn asked angrily.
"I care not whether they do or don't, my prince. I have the means to take the throne and so in time I'll take the throne, what Dorne does with this knowledge is up to you and your brother. I am a son of Dorne, it's where I was born after all and I am Aegon and Rhaenys's brother. Support me, stand against me, it matters not and won't change my path or what I must do." he said and Oberyn glared at him.
"You shame my sister." Oberyn said and Ellaria gasped.
"No more than Dorne has by sitting idly by for seven and ten years while the men who murdered and raped her walked and breathed air they didn't deserve." he said and when Oberyn rushed him it was to find a knife at his neck and a stunned look on his face that Daemon had gotten the better of him so easily "Were I to wish it then you'd find your end here today. If your name was on my list then it would be so. I wish it not and your name is not one the Many-Faced God requests, be certain to see it remains so." he said as he moved away from Oberyn and placed his knife back in his belt.
Ellaria had held the guards at bay and in doing so had saved their lives in the process. The Many-Faced God may not seek names that you'd not been sent for, but he did accept that at times they were needed. Daemon moved to the door and stopped, looking back at Oberyn and Ellaria before he left. He wasn't certain what it was he was going to say and perhaps he was leaving prematurely, but he felt that he'd not gain Dorne's support as of yet, mayhap in time but not today.
"Tywin Lannister breathes because I deem it so, his time has not come yet and so for now he gets to walk and breathe and see another sunrise. In time I'll see to his end and in time we'll speak again. There is only one thing we say to the God of Death, Prince Oberyn, Not Today. Remember that and may it serve you well." he said as he left the room and moved out into the street.
He gathered his things and made his way to the Red Keep, the face he now wore was one that would serve him well. Moving past the guards he was asked no questions and no impediment was put in his way and so he arrived at the Grandmaester's Rooms unmolested. When the Grandmaester opened the door it was with a smile on his face as he looked at the young girl that he appeared to be. Pycelle invited her inside and Daemon immediately placed the cloth over his mouth.
Once Pycelle was unconscious, he moved up the stairs and smiled to see the body was there. The eyes that no longer saw and the Mountain that no longer rode were both welcome sights. He did what he needed to do and then moved to the ravenry, the two notes were already written and he sent them to where he knew that Jon and Brandon would await before then making his way out of the Grandmaester's rooms. By the time he reached the street, he was himself once more and from there it was to the stables he went. The night was falling as he rode out the city gate and began riding North. He had many miles to cover and though he was riding through dangerous lands he felt no fear.
There were many names he wished to see crossed off his list and some that he wished to see fall more than others. Few men he wished to see fall more than Walder Frey and though he had other work to do at the Twins, it was thoughts of t that which made the days and nights pass quickly. So after weeks of travel, it was with a smile on his face that he arrived at the gates of the Twins and was let inside. The face he wore was one that brooked no hesitation from the guards or from the Frey's themselves. Instead, it was fear he was welcomed with, fear which he enjoyed seeing and which the Frey's would know much more of before he was done.
"Ser Gregor, I welcome you to the Twins, my father will wish to speak to you." a weasel-faced man said as Daemon climbed down off his horse.
"Take me to him." he said, his voice almost a growl and he saw the shiver that the weasel gave and welcomed it even more.
Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next we take a look at Arya's rescue and what she's up to now. As Daemon readies to bring the gift to House Frey, we take a look at his time in the House of Black and White. Stannis finds himself caught between a Wall and a Hard Case and cracks begin to appear in Tywin's world as word of enemies and allies alike cause concern. While in the North preparations are begun for the restoration of House Stark and in the Twins, Northern Lords learn a truth about the rebellion.
Bloodline: There are many more names on his list.
Classic: Thanks so much for saying so.
Puffgirl: High praise indeed, lol.
Guest: In a world where they've never met or don't know about each other, not so much. In canon, I agree completely.
Gsaint: All is well, glad you liked it.
Daryl Dixon: So glad you enjoyed it.
Jaimol: Glad you thought so.
Neka: Thanks so much.
Tfranco: No worries my friend, the others should be back on track over the next couple of weeks.
Leilani: I'm leaving the Joff part unclear for now, was it Daemon or was it canon? I'm not saying for now at least as I think it's fun to speculate, what I'll say is that I will answer it clearly in a couple of chapters. Daemon will both be in the shadows and not at the same time, he has many messages to be sent and games to play, we'll see some of that with the songs and things like that. As for Oberyn, his path is open now, so we'll see what he does. LF took Sansa as canon and Varys is with fAegon here, so technically with Daemon even if he doesn't know it.
Guest: I think it's less creepy for Jon to be with Dany than Sansa, in canon at least. I mean being brought up thinking someone a sister and then being with that someone, to me that's creepier than being with an aunt you had no idea about. The thing is that both aunt/nephew and cousin/cousin are acceptable in Westeros. In fact, given Dany/Jon's position, it would almost be a given to secure the name and line, it's happened in the North and even within the Starks before. Now of course our modern sensibilities make it less so, but hell we even look at distant relations as a no-no.
Daspeedforce: Hope you like it.
Gamedesinger: It makes me so happy to hear you say that.
Laurie: That's partly why I went with Jon/Sansa here since I'd not done one and the setup here makes it easier, I feel they work better not knowing each other, than knowing each other and growing up together. I will be showing some of Jon's time in the HOBW and with the FM, and how we reached this point, so there will be more back-story to come.
Umbrakinetic: Rhaenys is dead, he didn't mention her because Amory Lorch killed her and he knows that.
Jarick: He is yes, hopefully, this chapter explains a bit more of that and how he came to be, but yes Daemon is Jon.
Victoria: Thank you, my friend, really glad you enjoyed it and hope you like where it goes.
Vega: So glad to hear you say that.
Katee: Really glad you liked it.
Artegism: It will certainly continue, I had hoped to update it sooner but RL kicked me in the teeth somewhat.
Iprg77: So glad you enjoyed it, Oberyn living will have big ramifications down the line, which I kind of think should be the point if you let a character who died, live, it should just be that they live, they should have a role to play too.
Guest: Tywin will try and front it, it's what he does and with some, that's going to work, with others no so much. I love the Princess Bride and I really think that Oberyn's words to the Mountain in canon were a nod to it too, even if they were different. I like the idea of using a little take on some words we know, a nod to them, I know some can see it as being lazy but TBH, it's more a homage and some situations just have words written for them that are far better than anything someone else can come up with.
Guest; I get where you're coming from, here it will I hope be different but I'll only know when I get there. The thing is that within ASOIAF there are great full-on love stories, as well as others which are both a warning and very much not great love stories too. I think the line that Aemon says about love being the death of duty is both a warning and a call to arms and for me, it's obviously easier to write it one way than the other. Here, as I said because of characters and circumstances I'll try and be more the other way, but in TDC or some other stories, it's thematic too.
Celexys: Glad you liked it. We'll see some of Jon's time at the HOBW next.
Murdough: I think it's hard for Jon/Sansa to be a thing, given she looks so much like her mother and acts like her too (not fully but enough) and I find it funny that those who have an issue with Jon/Dany don't have one with Jon/Sansa. While the relationship cousin/cousin is less than Aunt/Nephew, both are acceptable in Westeros and surely it's easier for Jon to be with someone he doesn't consider a copy of Cat and his sister, compared to a woman who's described as otherworldly beautiful and he doesn't know at all. I also have major Sansa issues from Season 8 lol. So for me, it only works in certain settings, like once Jon is raised in WF then I can't ever see him with Sansa. I know he's not as close as he was with Arya, but it's damnable close to the same thing. Jon not raised in WF, be it in a Rhaegar wins or something else, then I can so see it. Which is why I feel it works here.
Ymere: I think that in some ways he's more suitable for that role than Arya was.
Clash: My mind is a wonderful place lol, when I write sometimes I go off on a tangent and some ideas just stick, this was one of them. For the longest time I wanted to do a Jon as a FM story but just couldn't get it to work and then one day when I was having some writer's block with a different fic, this all just rushed out.
Pacey: Hope you continue to enjoy it.
Guest: I'm the same with Sansa, especially after season 8. I don't mind book Sansa and think she's on an interesting journey that would make all she does in the show logical, not right, or anything but at least make sense. The biggest issue for me is that in season 8 Sansa does terrible things, she betrays a sacred oath, puts Jon in danger, and basically manipulates her way to the throne. But it's that they try to make us think that in all of this she's in the right, she's good and that just doesn't ring true. Had they simply had her do the things and portray them as bad, we may not like them but we'd understand them and she'd come across differently IMO. Anyway, I hope you'll like her here, this first pov was a nightmare to write.
Osterreicher: One of my fave things about Lyanna/Rhaegar is that they're like Schrodinger's Cat and can be all things to all men. Like a tragic love story or a crazed prince and selfish girl or anything in between. I think the Targs could get away with multiple wives, the legality of things is always in flux and he who sits the throne makes the rules, so in the end, they could do as they wished. Jon would always face some questions, but again in the end if it's what they want to accept they'll accept. I mean Rheanyra was the rightful heir, they changed the laws to make it so she wasn't so again the laws are so in flux. At the end of the day, Targ supporters would accept Jon as true, no matter how we got there and things are being set up for a Rhaenyra/Aegon second go with Dany/Faegon anyway. On the name, I like to change them around form story as it helps me remember who I'm writing lol. I've got two Jaehaerys, two Daemons, A Rhaegar and a Daeron. Along with an Aemon in different fics. The FM thing is something I wanted to do for the longest time and to have Jon actually do the things he should, I love GRRM but damn the people who are hurt never get vengeance.
Leinad: Espero que esto responda a sus preguntas y sí, Daemon es Jon. En cuanto a Sansa, estoy contigo y en el canon no creo que pueda funcionar, aquí nunca se conocieron y veremos si puedo hacer que te guste.
Dunk: I'm not sure if I told you this before, but my next really big story is a Jon traveling through time fic, where he dies but is sent back first to the Conquest and then through varying differing points of Targ history. The Dance, the Blackfyre Rebellion, Robert's Rebellion, etc. In each, he's there to change things to make ready for his own time and each part will feel a bit like a mini fic of sorts. It's a big undertaking but we'll see all the famous targs and Jon playing a role in his father and mother's lives too.
Sansa and Jon don't know each other here, so I hope to make it interesting and hope you enjoy where the story goes.
Creativo: Me alegra oírte decir eso, quería hacer una visión diferente de las cosas.
Xand007: Thank you, my friend. So glad you liked it, it's one of those ideas I couldn't let go and I've some fun things planned here. Stay safe and well my friend, the end of the worst couple of years ever is near, thank god.
CallmeAuthor: Thanks so very much for your very kind words.
Guest: It will be bi-weekly I think, it would have been updated sooner only for some personal issues.
Me: Thanks for saying so, I've tried my best to get the grammar thing right over time, it's good to see it's finally happening lol. Really glad you like the premise, it's something I wanted to do for the longest time and I'm glad its' been received so well.
Xan Merrick: Thank you, my friend, I wanted to do something different with Jon paring wise and here it kinda is the only way to get Jon/Sansa together IMO as for the fight, thanks for saying that.
Suppes: Dany is on her own path here, so now Daemon/Dany.
Xionsd: It is in a way, yes, but I like the idea that it shouldn't have been and tbh the show messed up faceless Arya, by the end she was a freaking terrible character. We barely got any of the lore about the FM too, which I hope to address here. But Yes I'll admit in a way he's stealing her story.
Salazar: Thanks so much.
Dmorrigan: So glad you enjoyed it.
Malser: Some lines are just too damn delicious to not steal, the Inigo Montoya lines are just one of them.
Keb: This should answer your questions, Sansa is almost half and half, she's still a silly young girl in some parts but she's hardening up, she won't go full Sansa here, more the best parts I hope.
Huntsnman: Yes in some ways that's how he intends to deal with them. He could simply walk in and kill Tywin and take his face and pretty much end things, he wants them to suffer though.
Guest: TDC will be finished in a dozen or so more chapters, so about a month and a half/two. Different song will end next month. The way I write is to never stop so when I get writer's block, I quickly move to something else and it allows for me to be able to flip back to the story I had trouble with. I have about a half a dozen stories not posted but in some state of readiness, but over the last little while I've seen a couple of stories posted that almost but not quite come close to some of my own ideas and with some of them I don't wish to be seen to be copying or following. This is one of them, if I'd held it back then someone else posts a Jon as a FM story and it looks as if I'm copying them even though I had this idea more than a couple of years ago. But every story I do will be finished, some soon, some not, but all will reach an end.
Msala: Glad you liked it.
Jairo: Estou muito feliz por você ter gostado. Espero que você tenha gostado deste capítulo também.
Lunadream: really glad you liked it.
Hell of sounds; Lorch killed Rhaenys while the Mountain killed Elia and Aegon and so he didn't mention her, but she is dead, unfortunately.
Aka: I will be going into the back-story over the next few chapters, we'll see Jon's time at the HOBW and how he found out the truth as well as the Golden Company and COTR and see Dany too.
Jessicanightmarwolf: It's the curse to how I write, when I get stuck I move on and write something different before going back and so as a result I've got so many other stories where there are a few chapters or more already written. I've wanted to do the FM Jon for so long and finally, it all just fell together, I don't know if it's been done but it's an interesting thought to me. With Jonsa my thing is that I don't see it working in canon and even if it could it's not to my taste. Not only do I dislike Season 8 Sansa with a passion, but the idea of them also raised together and thinking each other brother/sister, even if they were more estranged than he was with Arya, for me that just feels wrong. Here they don't know each other and so that part of things isn't present. Amory Lorch killed Rhaenys and well we'll see what happened to him later.
Parasitic Squid: Hopefully this chapter reveals more about the how of Jon, the why is to come.
Iacopo: la vendetta è un piatto che va servito freddo e ne vedremo di più nei prossimi capitoli.
Icefyre: Thanks for saying so, hope you like where it goes.
The Sphynx: Thank you, my friend. Not quite a poem but it works just as well, kudos.
Tengene: So very happy to hear that.