Ned
Ned was awoken at the crack of dawn by Alyn, one of his men. Grumbling at the early hour, Ned came out of his tent to find Robert already on his mount and Ned's own horse saddled. Prophet sat on his own borrowed horse at the king's side. "Come, Ned, get up! We have state matters to discuss."
Ned wasn't surprised that Prophet was invited along as well. The Visitor had ingratiated himself into Robert's company over the course of their journey. As Ned had predicted, Robert was fascinated with their technology like a little boy presented with shiny new toys. The fact that they were unintentionally better spymasters than the Spider could ever hope to be with their constant study of the life in the Known World was not forgotten.
"We could just talk in my tent," Ned attempted, too drowsy to think of riding at the moment.
"There's too many ears in this camp for my liking. I want us to speak privately. Besides, I want to really experience the North," Robert said, eyeing his own Kingsguard with distrust.
Ned realized he had no choice and mounted his horse.
They rode hard and fast, soon outstripping the guards. Robert, Ned, and Prophet finally came to a halt when the sun had risen.
"Seven hells, it feels good to let loose and RIDE!" Robert bellowed. "This creeping along is making me mad."
Robert had never been patient, Ned reflected.
"That damn wheelhouse! I should have burned the damn thing and made Cersei and her spawn walk," Robert grumbled. "Thank you, Prophet, for fixing that axle. That could have cost us a whole day."
"I am pleased that I was able to help," the Captain of the Visitors said lightly.
"What say we just keep riding? Two vagabond knights and a visitor from another world, with nothing but their steeds and swords, a tavern wench to warm their beds at night?" Robert said dreamily.
"You can do what you want, Robert. I have duties to the realm, to my children, to my wife," Ned declined.
"I wish to see King's Landing in person. I feel it must be seen to be believed," Prophet said in an ambivalent tone that made Ned question whether he had a positive or negative opinion of the capital."
"Bah! Neither of you are any fun," Robert mocked. "But enough. There's something serious to discuss. There was a rider in the night, from Varys."
Robert pulled out a folded letter and passed it to Ned. Ned feared it would speak of Littlefinger's treachery, but the subject was about something else entirely, across the Narrow Sea.
"Who is the source of this information?" Ned asked.
"Ser Jorah Mormont. You should remember him. Five years ago he tried to sell poachers on his land into slavery. Before you could reach him to enact justice, he fled across the Narrow Sea. Now he's in Pentos, with hopes of earning a royal pardon," Robert said, serious for once.
"So now the slaver has turned spy. I'd rather he was dead," Ned said distastefully.
"He's providing a service to Varys and the Realm. What do you make of the message?" Robert asked.
"So the Targaryen girl has married some Dothraki horse lord. Perhaps we should send a wedding gift," Ned said dismissively.
"Aye. A sharp knife, and a strong man to wield it," Robert said darkly.
Prophet spoke up. "Just to clarify, King Robert wishes every last Targaryen dead, even those that weren't involved in the Rebellion. Correct?"
"Aye, Prophet. I won't rest easy until every last dragonspawn is dead," Robert said darkly.
"I see. Far be it from me to tell a king what to do, but may I offer some advice?" Prophet asked.
"I'll gladly hear it," Robert said, turning to the Visitor.
"Even if you have Viserys and Daenerys killed, that hatred in your heart will still burn. Until you address the root cause of all your anger and malice, you will never be able to sleep easy. There is a saying from my world: 'He who seeks revenge should dig two graves.' This obsession with the Targaryens' destruction will destroy you in turn, King Robert," Prophet said solemnly.
Ned appreciated the wisdom in Prophet's words, but they were lost on Robert. "Bah! After all Rhaegar and Aerys did, wiping out every last trace of them is a service to the world."
Ned sighed. "Robert, tell me you're not worried about an invasion. The Dothraki have no ships and fear the open sea."
"Ships can be found in the Free Cities," Robert said uneasily. "And there are still those that call me Usurper behind my back. If Viserys crosses the sea with Dothraki screamers at his back, some Houses will back him, and they'll murder me in my bed."
"If I may allay your fears, King Robert, you fail to understand a core aspect of Dothraki culture. In Viserys's mind, he has sold his sister to Khal Drogo in exchange for his army in retaking the Iron Throne. In Drogo's mind, Viserys gave Daenerys to him as a gift. After their marriage is blessed by the dosh khaleen in Vaes Dothrak, then Drogo will consider gifting Viserys something in turn. It may be an invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, but Drogo will probably choose not to pursue that route. As far as the Dothraki are concerned, the world ends at the, quote, 'poison water'. It would take a better man than Viserys to convince a Dothraki to do something he doesn't want to do, like cross the Narrow Sea. In fact, based on what my crew have observed of Viserys's character, he's likely to get himself killed within the year traveling with the Dothraki by insulting or mocking the wrong man," Prophet spelled out in clear terms.
Ned saw some of the tension ease out of Robert's shoulders. "Can you show me what they're doing, at this very moment?"
Prophet held out his hand, creating a hologram. A horde of people on horseback road in the same direction. Most of them were dark of hair and brown of skin, but two had pale features and white-blonde hair.
"This is incredible," Robert breathed, amazed at the chance to see his enemies from across a sea. "But wait, it looks like afternoon where they are."
"The sun reaches different parts of the world at different times. The further east you go, the later it gets, and the same goes for the reverse. They are outside Pentos, where it is afternoon. We are in the North, where it is early morning," Prophet lectured patiently, as one would to a child.
"Well, that's enough, Prophet. Come, men! Let's feel the wind in our hair!" With that, Robert kicked his horse into a gallop.
Ned and Prophet watched him go. "Robert should have been born Dothraki. He'd be much happier in their culture," Prophet observed.
"Alas, he's Westerosi. And King of the Seven Kingdoms, gods help us all," Ned said as he kicked his horse into a gallop and took off after Robert.
Jon
Jon did forms as he waited for dinner to cook. He'd decided to name his 'carbon nanotube' (whatever the seven hells those were) sword 'Frostfire' as an homage to both his parents. Winter and flame, united as one. Much like Jon himself.
Their party consisted of Uncle Benjen, another black brother named Yoren, Tyrion Lannister and two of his family's men, Jon (and Ghost), four Visitors, the Kingslayer, and a couple peasant boys that had been sentenced to take the black as an alternative to castration.
Jon had the sinking feeling he'd had a skewed perspective on the Night's Watch based on Uncle Benjen's example. His Uncle always made the Night's Watch seem like a noble duty, protecting the Realm from the threat of wildlings and other dangers from beyond the Wall. The way Yoren and Tyrion put it, it was a penal colony meant to keep the have-nots of the Seven Kingdoms out of sight and out of mind. More than once, he'd been tempted to turn around on the Kingsroad and walk back to Winterfell.
But something held him back every time. Maybe it was the knowledge that as the bastard crown prince, he had no place in the Seven Kingdoms so long as Robert was on the throne. Maybe it was because, however ignoble it actually was, Jon wanted to belong to something greater than himself, like the Night's Watch. Maybe it was for the simple fact that the Visitors were headed for the Wall, and exciting things were bound to follow wherever the strangers from another world went.
The call for dinner came and Jon sheathed Frostfire. He took his portion of the stew and took a pull on Tyrion's wineskin as it was passed around. Feeling familiar with the Visitors after being around them for over a month, Jon asked a question. "Set, would you spar with me after dinner?"
"Very well," the Red Man said simply. Beside him, Minerva, the Grey woman, Vivaan, the Green Man, and Inari, the Blue Woman, continued to eat.
"I've heard tell of this Orb that you used to travel from your ship to here. But what does your ship look like?" Tyrion spoke up.
Inari held out her hand and a hologram was produced. To Jon's eyes, it resembled nothing so much as a spear: a gleaming black long, thin construction with a rounded tip and a number of strange cylinders at the bottom. "For scale," she said before making a hologram or Winterfell appear underneath the image of the ship. If the comparison was accurate, the ship was five times longer than the whole of Winterfell and twice as tall.
"How fast does it go?" Jon asked.
"Millions upon millions of miles a second at top speed. We use a unit of measurement called 'lightyears', which is a measure of how far a ray of sunlight would travel in a year. This star system is just over 100 lightyears from our star system. We made the trip in two years, or moving at 50x the speed of light.
Tyrion frowned. "You can't build an empire with distances like that. How do you resupply or return home?"
"We found the answer to that not long after we learned how to break the lightspeed barrier," Inari said. She changed the hologram to show a massive metal ring. "This is a 'warp gate'. It bends space. Imagine a doorway in Castle Black which, if you went through it, you'd step out in King's Landing. This is how our home world's empire expands. We send lightspeed ships on their long journeys to distant star systems. When they arrive, they build a warp gate, connecting them to all other warp gates and allowing instantaneous transport to any star system in our reach," Inari explained.
Tyrion wasn't the only one gaping. "Why… that's brilliant. So you mean to say you could go through this 'warp gate' and be right back at your home?"
"Yes. The warp gate for this system is just about to finish construction. We'll have much to report when we regain communication with the empire. It's always an historic moment when a new world with life is discovered. Especially life so similar in shape to us," Inari said, ending the hologram.
Jon furrowed his brow. "Wait… who's building it?"
"The nine of us who came down weren't the entire crew. Others stayed on the ship to oversee the colonization of the other worlds in this system and construct the warp gate. Plus the computer, I mean, thinking machine that runs the ship is able to multitask. It can handle walking around as Prophet down here and running operations back on the ship like a juggler keeping balls in the air."
"Wonder if I can still juggle?" Tyrion mused. "My arms are much longer now, might throw things off."
The other members of the circle around the fire, who'd been observing the conversation with the Visitors with awe, chuckled at the image of Tyrion trying and failing to juggle now that he was the proper size. Jon finished his stew and saw Set had finished too. "How about that spar?" Jon asked.
Set answered by handing back his bowl, standing, and creating a sword out of Fog. They both ignored how the others reacted with shock to the sword appearing from dust in the air. Jon drew Frostfire and, after a moment, made the first strike.
It was clear from the outset that Set outclassed him. Even with the knowledge from the mind-link on all the different ways to wield a sword, Set was still stronger, faster, and had longer reach. Plus he knew all if not more that Jon knew about fighting. The point wasn't to beat Set, it was to have the flaws in his stance and style pointed out to him through repeated failure. Jon finally called it to an end. "Enough," he said, soaked with sweat, which made him feel freezing in the northern night.
Jon drew first watch and got comfortable watching the flames, staring into their depths.