All rights belong to GRRM
Daenerys Targaryen
Pylos, who was usually reserved and solemn, looked amazed and excited when he emerged from the cave. He had a few pieces of parchment in his hands and a case of charcoal sticks in the other. Daenerys, Ser Jorah, and Ser Barristan had been waiting patiently for close to an hour as the young maester examined the cave.
"My lady, you best come and see this." Pylos said.
Daenerys nodded and followed the maester. Inside, Greyworm and a few others were around the wall, holding burning torches. The walls were formed of grey stone, carved from living rocks. Daenerys could still see the pick marks from where the cave had been widened. This was obviously a man-made cave. Or at least it had been altered by man.
But what caught her eye was the painting, which Pylos was standing under. It was a rough sketch of a battle scene. On one side were tall creatures of blue and white, and they seemed to be fighting a mixed group of tall and short beings, who looked like they were running away.
"I believe that this is a painting from the time of the Long Night." Pylos explained. "This group here, on the right, are clearly a mixture of humans and Children of the Forest. The weapons they wield are black because they're wielding dragonglass. This group here on the left are the Others."
"Why is this painting on the island?" Daenerys asked, holding up the broken shard of dragonglass. "Why is dragonglass on the island?"
"Obsidian, my lady, can only be formed at places like this." Pylos explained. "It's forged by the fires of the earth. I wouldn't be surprised if there were small caves up on the volcano that are filled with the stuff." the maester turned back to the painting. "As for this? Tales of the time say that mankind went to the Children of the Forest for help against the Others. The Children taught Man how to kill the Others with dragonglass. This is probably where it was mined."
"Surely a painting like this will have already been discovered." Ser Barristan said. "Rhaegar Targaryen spent years on the island. Lady Daenerys and I have walked around the island for days. I've never noticed this cave nor have I ever heard of it."
Pylos shook his head. "I sketched the painting and will have it sent to the Citadel to see if there have been other paintings found. I will also search the library. Like you, if anyone else has ever found this, then the maester at the time certainly would have noted it down."
Daenerys looked at the painting, particularly at the group of blue beings. She felt a chill blow down her spine and settle in her stomach. It was a feeling that she hadn't felt in a long time. Not since her marriage to Khal Drogo.
It was fear.
"Very well." Daenerys said. "Could you also make a second sketch of this painting?"
Pylos nodded. "Of course, my lady."
"Good. You have three days to go through the library and find all you can before I sail for King's Landing." Daenerys said. "Will that be enough time?"
The young maester nodded. "It should be, my lady."
Daenerys turned to Grey Worm. "Make sure that Captain Brevan and the Stormborn are ready to sail in three days' time."
The Unsullied commander nodded and left without a word. As always, Daenerys appreciated the unquestioning loyalty to her Unsullied. They were her staunchest allies and had held against the men of the North and the Riverlands during the battle. She could always rely on them.
"My lady, if I may have a word." Ser Barristan said.
Daenerys nodded and strode out of the cave, her two knights following her. When they were on the beach, she caught sight of the look on the old knight's face and knew that he didn't agree with her plan.
"Do you think it is wise to sail to the city?" Ser Barristan asked.
Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "This could be important and Robb….King Robb should know about it."
"Do you need to be the one who brings it to his attention?" Ser Barristan questioned. "Why not a raven?"
"I was the one who made the discovery." Daenerys countered. "I should be the one who tells him."
Ser Barristan glanced at Ser Jorah, who had been a silent witness to the debate. With both Daenerys and Ser Barristan looking at him, Ser Jorah crossed his arms across his broad chest.
"I agree with the Khaleesi on this," he answered. "Robb Stark isn't Robert Baratheon or Joffrey Waters. He will not dismiss this as a picture."
"Why is that?" Daenerys asked, now a little curious. She had wanted to travel to the city to see how it was doing under the guidance of Robb Stark and his queen. It had been purely personal, but now Ser Jorah was making another point that was far away from Daenerys' own thoughts.
"Robb Stark is a northerner through and through." Ser Jorah explained. "While the southern houses mock the Night's Watch, the Starks of Winterfell have always been their staunchest supporters."
"The Night's Watch protects the land from wildlings." Ser Barristan argued. "Not….mythical creatures!"
Ser Jorah shook his head. "There is something about that picture. I felt the northern air on my bones and the fear in my gut. I do not think it was a coincidence that the Khaleesi found this cave."
Ser Barristan sighed and shook his head. "What if the king laughs in our faces and dismisses it as nothing?"
"Then we remind him that dragons were once dead and gone." Ser Jorah answered firmly. "There is something strange happening in Westeros, and it started the moment those dragons emerged from the fire with the Khaleesi."
"How do you know this?" Daenerys asked.
Ser Jorah grimaced. "Winter is coming, Khaleesi. Those are the words of House Stark, but now they are coming true. I have seen the signs, or at least shadows of them. I have spoken to the traders from White Harbor. The North is preparing for a long and grueling winter that is not far off. With that coming and this," he said, gesturing at the cave. "I fear what comes with it."
Tyrion Lannister
Tyrion stood close to the throne as the king held court. So far, it had been an uneventful day. Most of the disputes were about property or money. Petty gripes that both the king and his Hand knew needed to be dealt with. Tyrion had first hand experience with a populace who felt abandoned and ignored by their king. Their suffering almost always turns violent.
At least that was the message that was sent when the High Septon's arm had been ripped off by the mob.
The final petitioner looked to be a hedge knight. He was tall and lean, looking half-starved. His hair and beard were long and greasy and the man looked like he hadn't had a proper shave or bath in weeks. He wore a mail shirt that showed rust in some areas and battered steel-plate armor along his left arm. His shield was slung across his back and his helm was held under his arm.
He swaggered forward with an overblown sense of arrogance.
He knelt before the king. "Your grace, I have come to pledge my sword to you."
The king raised an eyebrow. "What have I done to earn such a….reward?"
"I am the finest sword in the realm, sire. I have come to become one of your sworn seven." the man answered firmly.
The crowd of courtiers shifted slightly. Tyrion saw that many were hiding smirks, clearly amused with the man's desire. Tyrion glanced at Lord Royce, whose youngest son currently served in the elite guard. He did not look amused.
The king leaned forward. "Thank you, ser…."
"Ser Harrison Jass, your grace."
"Ser Harrison, thank you for your offer, but I must refuse. I have no absences in my kingsguard at the moment. Perhaps I can have the captain of my household guard find you a place…." the king suggested, glancing towards Eyan Hawker.
The man shook his head. "That is untrue, my lord."
Robb frowned. "Are you saying I lied?"
"No, your grace, at least not on purpose." Ser Harrison explained, standing up. "You have a woman on your guard who clearly does not belong. I am offering to take her place."
The seven warriors had not reacted when the man had said that he wanted to join the kingsguard. It was when he blatantly disrespected their commander did they finally react, with many reaching for their weapons. Ser Loras, the youngest of the group, even took a step forward.
"Hold." the king ordered, looking at his knights before back at the man. "You believe that you can serve me better than Commander Brienne?"
Ser Harrison nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. Women are not fit to fight. They belong in the kitchens and running the household. I do not fault you for placing one in your guard as you are from the North and do not fully understand the customs of the south. I only wish to help correct this oversight."
The room was now deathly silent. No one was smirking or smiling anymore. The man in the center of the room had not only disrespected the commander of the kingsguard, but had basically called the king an idiot who did not understand the south. Tyrion wasn't sure if the man had a deathwish or if he truly was so stupid.
The king glanced at his wife, who sat on a smaller stone throne just a step down from the Iron Throne. The queen nodded back to her husband, a silent message passing between the two.
"Ser Harrison Jass, are you willing to prove that you are capable of joining my kingsguard?" the king asked.
The hedge knight nodded firmly.
"Good. You will duel my commander." the king continued. "You are willing to stand here and disrespect her. Prove to me now that you are a better warrior than her and you may join my kingsguard."
Ser Harrison shook his head. "I can not fight a woman, sire. It is against my vows as a knight."
The king grimaced, but Tyrion quickly stepped forward. "Ser Harrison, have you ever fought in a battle?"
The hedge knight hesitated before nodding quickly. "Of course."
Tyrion knew that it was a lie, but it still served his purpose. "So has Commander Brienne. Knights on the battlefield had no problem fighting her, and since you are the greatest sword in the land, neither should you."
All eyes had gone from Tyrion to the hedge knight, who turned red in the face. He glanced between Tyrion, the king, and the commander before nodding choppily. He set his helm on his head, pulling the strap tight before setting his shield firmly on his left arm. Finally, he ripped his sword from its sheath. It looked just as battered and rusted as the man's armor.
Brienne glanced back at the king, who simply nodded. The warrior woman removed her helm, handing it to the man next to her before unsheathing her own sword, the valyrian steel sword Red Rain. Her expression was one of disgust mixed with controlled fury, and it was nothing short of terrifying.
The two warriors moved forward slowly. Ser Harrison was crouched slightly with his shield up and his blade set on its top edge. Tyrion was not a fighter himself, but as the brother to one of the best warriors in the realm, he could tell that this man was far from one. Tyrion could pick out at least five flaws in his form. No doubt more experienced warriors like the king or Lord Royce would be able to pick out many more.
Expert warriors like Commander Brienne could see all of them.
Without warning, Brienne lunged forward, her sword sliding under the shield and was heading right for the man's midsection. Ser Harrison let out a surprised yelp and managed to parry the valyrian steel blade away before answering with his own strike, which was battered away by Brienne's vambrace.
The fight continued for a few more embarrassing moments. Brienne would attack suddenly and Ser Harrison would just manage to defend himself before responding with a weak strike of his own. Brienne would parry or block it with contemptuous ease before the cycle repeated itself.
Brienne's sword flashed down at the man, but instead of moving out of the way, Ser Harrison brought his blade up to block. Perhaps he didn't know what Brienne was wielding, or the idiot didn't recognize just how much bigger and stronger his opponent was, but Brienne's blade sheared through Ser Harrison's like a knife through parchment.
The hedge knight could only stare dumbly at his broken blade before he was thrown back. Brienne had taken advantage of the knight's shock and placed her armored boot in the man's chest, sending him flying before he landed on his back, skittering a few more meters from the power of the kick. His helm had also come loose when he hit the ground, rolling away as the man lay still, wheezing as he tried to get air back into his lungs.
Brienne placed her sword at the man's neck, her blue eyes flashing like lightning.
"Yield, ser." she demanded. "You have been defeated."
The room had remained silent during the entire fight, and now everyone was straining to hear what the man said.
"I yield." Ser Harrison whispered bitterly.
Brienne nodded and stepped back, turning her back on the man. Ser Harrison scrambled to his feet, his broken sword flying towards Brienne's exposed back. It was the crowd's gasp that alerted the kingsguard commander. As Brienne turned, her blade came up and deflected the attack while her left hand, curled instinctively into a fist, smashed into the man's face. The crunch of his nose being splattered across his face could be heard clearly in every corner of the room.
The man cried out as his nose broke, dropping his weapons as he fell to his knees, holding his face. Blood streamed through fingers and tears collected in his eyes. Brienne just looked at the man with disgust before returning to her post, sheathing her sword and reclaiming her helm.
The king nodded to Ser Davos, who strode forward with two of his men. The watchmen put firm hands on the man's shoulders, with their commander standing behind the embarrassed knight, waiting for orders.
"Ser Harrison, you have not only proven that you are far from the greatest fighter in the realm, but you are certainly not fit for my kingsguard or service." the king declared, his voice like iron. "You have shamed yourself here today, and if I were a lower man, I would have taken your head for so blatantly insulting me."
The crowd was quiet as the king spoke. Tyrion knew that Robb was more annoyed than angry, so he knew that the man wouldn't lose his head. He had been shamed during his duel with Brienne, and now he would be punished befitting his crime.
"I strip you of your knighthood. You have no right to have it." the king continued. "Your arms and armor will be confiscated as well before you are escorted out of the city. From this day until your death, you are forbidden from returning from this city. If you are found within ten miles of the walls, then you will lose your head."
Harrison Jass was openly weeping in the arms of the gold cloaks, his tears mixing the blood running down out of his nose. He looked like a broken man, quite the opposite of when he had strode forward not a few minutes ago. His arrogance hadn't just been pricked by Brienne, but completely torn to shreds in front of the entire court, and there was little chance that the man would ever regain it.
"I will give you another choice, if you wish to take it." the king said. "A ship leaves for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea first thing tomorrow morning. You can go with it and join the Night's Watch. Those are your two choices: Banishment or the Watch."
"If I join the Watch, can I keep my knighthood?" Harrison asked weakly.
"No." Robb answered immediately. "You have shown that you are not worthy of it. Now give me your answer. Banishment or the Wall?"
Everyone waited patiently for the man's answer. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at the king.
"I choose banishment."
Robb nodded to Ser Davos, who barked a command to his men. Harrison Jass was dragged out of the room. Thankfully, his humiliation wasn't worsened by cheering. Most people just looked unimpressed with the man, not having an ounce of sympathy for him. He had challenged the commander of the kingsguard.
They weren't known as the finest swords in the realm without reason.
Jon Stark
Jon emerged from his chambers, looking out the window into the courtyard. There was a lot of activity in the yard. Jon had heard the horn from the top of the Wall announcing the return of one of Thorne's men, but there were none currently ranging that would warrant such a reaction from the other members of the Watch. In the chambers next to him, Smalljon and Alysane also came out, looking just as curious as Jon.
"What the hells is going on?" Smalljon grumbled as the trio went outside, stopping at the railing.
Many of the watchmen were huddled around the tunnel that traveled under the Wall. Many of the brothers looked visibly shocked, turning to their comrades and speaking in lowered tones. Jon noticed Ser Alliser marching towards the group, Janos at his side. The knight caught sight of Jon and his friends, motioning for them to follow.
"All right, you lot!" Ser Alliser shouted. "Get back!"
The crowd slowly moved away, allowing the Lord Commander to see what all the commotion was about. Jon, Smalljon, and Alysane jogged to catch up with Thorne, curious to see what was happening. When the trio finally reached the entrance to the tunnel, Jon stopped dead in his tracks, not believing what he was seeing.
It was Uncle Benjen, Bran, Hodor, and a girl he didn't recognize. Ser Alliser had clasped arms with Uncle Benjen, and another man that Jon had come to know as Qhorin Halfhand had forced his way through the crowd to greet his fellow ranger. But soon Benjen looked over and he and Jon locked eyes.
Jon rushed forward, practically sprinting by the time he slammed into his uncle, the two men embracing. Benjen was laughing softly, just like he always did whenever he visited Winterfell and hugged Jon as a boy. It was a laugh that only belonged to Benjen. Jon had slight tears in his eyes when he pulled back. Benjen kept his arms on Jon's shoulders, a massive grin on his face.
"You've grown." Benjen said proudly, looking Jon up and down. "You've become a man."
"Uncle." Jon said, unable to fully convey what he was feeling. "What happened? Where were you?"
Benjen shook his head, forestalling any more questions. "We'll talk about that later, Jon. Now greet your brother. His story is a lot stranger than mine."
Jon nodded and moved past his uncle, who moved forward to greet Smalljon and Alysane. Jon knelt next to Bran, a relieved smile on his face as he looked at his younger brother. Bran had a smile as well, but it wasn't one of happiness or relief, but grim contentment.
"Bran." Jon said lovingly, ruffling his brother's hair softly before placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank the gods you're alive."
Bran nodded. "I am." he stated bluntly.
Jon was a little confused with how serious his brother was being. He was expecting to see his smile, his eyes shining like they always did. Bran seemed….reserved, which was odd. Jon couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something different about his brother. Some kind of authority that Jon didn't know about. It was the same way their father was able to silence a criminal with a look, yet still different.
"I'm Meera Reed." the girl said, breaking the awkwardness.
Jon nodded to her. "I know your father Howland. He's a good man and a friend."
"How is he?"
"He's well." Jon answered. "I'm sure he can't wait to see you."
Meera shifted slightly. "Thank you."
Off to the side, Ghost and Summer were nipping at each other playfully, the two littermates obviously happy to see each other again.
"There are a lot more brothers here than when I left." Benjen noted, speaking with Thorne and the Halfhand. "What happened?"
"I can explain that, Uncle." Jon answered, getting to his feet. "It seems we both have stories to tell."
It took about an hour for the recently returned party to wash and eat before Meera, Benjen, and Bran gathered in Jon's chambers. Smalljon and Alysane stood by the wall in the back of the room, just as curious as Jon to hear their story.
"You should speak first, Jon." Benjen said, nursing a tankard of ale in his hands. "Our story is a little tougher to explain and will take longer to tell."
For the next two hours, Jon, with the help of Smalljon, explained the War of the Five Kings. Starting with Robb's battles in the Riverlands, his time in the Reach, Jon's campaign in the North, Robb's battles at Harrenhal and High Heart, before ending with the Targaryens and the battle at King's Landing. Jon had done the best he could to tell what had happened without over-explaining and confusing everything for his uncle, who listened patiently and asked only a few questions. He had been very surprised to hear about the Company of the Rose, but the mention of dragons didn't shock him like Jon thought it would.
"How's Robb been as a king?" Benjen asked as Jon took a long drink of ale.
"He's been nothing short of brilliant, but he has a lot of help." Jon answered after he swallowed. "He'll be just fine in the south."
"So why are you here?"
"There was word of an army of wildlings north of the Wall." Jon explained. "I've come to see how bad the situation is. My father sent a raven saying that I need to find a way to talk to them."
Benjen raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Aye, that's a good idea."
It was Jon's turn to look confused. "You think that there's a peaceful solution to this too?"
Benjen looked Jon in the eye. "When I explain what Bran and I have been up to, you'll see that there has to be peace between the Watch and the wildlings. Westeros depends on it."