The Kingsroad 299 AC.
Oberyn.
His eyes looked to the sky and sought the black dragon and the man who rode upon it. Around him, the full extent of their victory was being revealed and yet he found he cared not. Or to be more truthful, he cared not for the now. He took some comfort in the fact that the queen had not felt the need to take to the sky and seek the king out, that she, Ser Arthur, and Ser Richard Lonmouth had all accepted Thoros' words as certain and true. Yet each moment that his eyes found only the blue sky, his fears and doubts only grew.
It wasn't his eyes that alerted him or the others to the black dragon's return in the end. Instead it was the loud roars of welcome that came from the queen's three dragons and then the cheers that rang out when Ōñosmaghare was finally spotted. Oberyn reached for the Myrish Eye he had strapped to his waist and taking it, he looked to the black dragon and was soon smiling broadly. Rhaegar and Arya both seemed unharmed, which he was most pleased about. The man held in the dragon's talons too was unharmed, which for now he accepted. For soon enough Tywin Lannister would be harmed greatly and it would be his hands that inflicted that harm upon him.
He and many more of those around him moved to where the black dragon seemed likely to land. Oberyn almost rushed forward when before it did so, Tywin was dropped to the ground. That it wasn't from the heights he deserved was more down to Oberyn than Tywin, he felt. Rhaegar's promise to him was now shown to be one he truly intended to live up to. It earned him even more of Oberyn's respect and far more of his gratitude. As the dragon then landed a few feet from him, Oberyn moved to the dazed and fearful formerly proud lion and then calling out for men he could trust, he bid them take him to his tent.
"Daemon, no one gets to him unless I tell you personally," he said before he moved to Tywin and whispered what he was to do to him in his ears.
"As you command, my prince," Daemon said and Oberyn chuckled when his girls moved to follow without being bid to do so.
Turning to his left he saw the king and queen locked in an embrace and kissing each other quite passionately. Arya stood with her other brother and was stroking the grey wolf's head while regaling those around her with tales of what she, the king, and the black dragon had done. Oberyn looked to see Arthur, Barristan, and others looking on relieved that the king had returned unharmed and he'd not begrudge them their joy in that.
Had this been a few moons earlier and things different, then was someone to tell him that he'd feel some joy too that a son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark was who he'd kneel to and that by the time he did so officially, he'd kneel happily, then he'd have named them a liar. Yet the boy had won him over somewhat. More so each day that he'd actually spoken to him and gotten to know him. After the gift he'd just given him, he'd almost won him over completely. So now Oberyn found himself walking to offer up his thanks and to ensure that Rhaegar was truly unharmed.
"You are unhurt, your grace," Oberyn said when Rhaegar and the queen had moved from each other.
"I am, my prince, as is my captive."
"Not for long."
"No, not for long. I do have one request of you." Rhaegar said and Oberyn felt his chest tighten, sure now that his vengeance was to be stolen from him.
"Which is?"
"That you call my wife and me when the end is upon him. We'd both wish to be present when you send him to the seven hells he deserves." Rhaegar said and how he said it only reinforced a growing kinship between them.
"A request I'm most pleased to comply with, your grace," he said as Rhaegar patted him on the back and taking his wife by the hand, he turned and left him standing alone.
He took the time to ready himself as he walked to the tent where Tywin had been brought to. Time to consider all he'd wish to do and the suffering he'd put the architect of his sister and her children's deaths through. From poisoning to cutting, beatings, and to the words he'd say to the man. Years he'd had to think it all through and yet here he found himself once again contemplating just what he wished to do. It would not be as long or as drawn out as he once believed it would. He'd not spend moons making Tywin beg for the sweet release of death. Instead, it would be a night, a single night and he'd be sure to inflict as much pain upon the man as he could to make that night feel as if it lasted forever.
"Did anyone impede your path?" he asked Daemon when he reached the tent.
"No, my prince. Some Northmen saw who we held and looked as if they considered such, but our numbers dissuaded them."
"He's tied securely?" he asked to a nod of Daemon's head "My girls?"
"Inside, my prince."
"No one is to disturb me, Daemon, lest it's the king and queen themselves. Not even should they send Ser Barristan or Ser Arthur am I to be taken from what I must do."
"As you command, my prince," Daemon said and he knew that there was no other man who'd see his orders followed as faithfully as his former squire would.
With a look around him to see who was watching, finding it to be most of his men and some of the Northmen, he entered the tent to see his girls standing together facing Tywin Lannister. The Old Lion was tied to a stake, he was gagged and somehow remained unharmed. His girls had chosen mocking words and promises of death to his remaining family rather than harming him with their hands. It brought a proud smile to his face to see them restrain themselves so and an even prouder one to see how they looked eagerly to him now that he'd arrived.
"Has this worm given you any trouble?"
"No father."
"He's an old lion indeed."
"I expected more."
Each of his daughters' words was said not to him but to Tywin and he could see how much they annoyed the Lion of the Rock. He moved closer and laid his pack on the table a few feet away. Then opening it up to reveal the items inside, with his eyes on Tywin's as he did so. To give the man some credit, he didn't waver or show any more fear than that which was already present. Though it bothered Oberyn not as he'd see and hear the fear he longed for soon enough.
"Tyene, you brought it?" he asked and his daughter nodded as she moved to him and handed him the vial.
Oberyn took it from her and moved to Tywin, holding it up so the man could see it before then opening it and bidding Obara remove the gag. It took a smack of his forehead, which broke Tywin's nose, to get him to open his mouth so he could force him to drink the contents. Once he had, Oberyn then took a seat and waited for the potion to do its work.
"Mine own concoction. As milk of the poppy soothes pain and numbs you from it, this does the opposite. Every cut, every single thing I do to you, will now feel as I wish for it to feel. The pain will be far worse than it has any right to be, and every single piece of it will feel as bad as the first. Fear not though, for the end is upon you at last, as the poison you drank is now making its way to your heart as well. Now let's see which of us ends you first." he said picking up the knife and moving to begin his cutting.
"For Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon." he heard his girls say as he saw the fear behind Tywin's eyes and the first scream rang out.
It was early morning, he stood covered in blood and had needed to use salts to wake up Tywin more than once during the night. He'd carved their names into the Old Lion's chest. Had taken each of his hands and then his cock from him. His hands because of the blood of his niece and nephew being on them and his cock because of what his monster had done to Elia. Tyene and Nymeria had ensured the Old Lion wouldn't bleed out, and Oberyn had felt the fire they'd used on the stumps where his hands had been to be apt. For though his niece and nephew were snakes, they were dragons too.
Outside the tent, he'd heard commotion more than once and yet had not had the need to get involved even briefly. Daemon doing his job just as Oberyn knew he would and allowing him to do his own. Each cut, each punch, each backhanded slap had been carefully considered and delivered with a wave of restrained anger. The early words of defiance that the Old Lion had dared to speak were long a thing of the past. Had it not been for the fact that he wished to hear his pained cries and for Tywin to see all that was to be done with him, then Oberyn would have taken his eyes and his tongue from him.
"Obara, for the king." he said handing her a note before taking a swallow from the wine glass, the Dornish sour tasted especially good to his tongue this morning.
"Is it time, father?" Tyene whispered so that Tywin couldn't hear her.
"It's time," he said happily.
He felt hungry, ravenous and looked forward to breaking his fast in an hour or so. The first meal he'd eat in a world without Tywin Lannister was one that he'd enjoy greatly and so turning to Nymeria, he called her over and whispered in her ear. Soon he was chuckling loudly, as the sound of her laughter when she left the tent was so very different to the sounds he'd wrought from his prisoner over the course of the night. Rising to his feet, he walked back to where Tywin was tied and threw the bucket of cold water over the barely conscious man.
"I shall enjoy myself most thoroughly when I get to King's Landing. I look forward to seeing to the end of your house." Oberyn said as the green eyes that stared back at him showed no more fight in them and proved he was right to end this now.
It took little time for the king and queen to arrive, and Oberyn was unsurprised to see that they did not do so alone. Barristan, Arthur, Ser Richard Lonmouth, Robb, and Arya Stark all accompanied Rhaegar and Daenerys. All of them wishing to see their own small piece of justice delivered. He saw how the eyes looked from Tywin to him, from one blood-covered body to another. Though it was the same blood in both cases. There was no recrimination in any of the eyes that looked his way and certainly no sympathy in those who looked Tywin's.
"You wish a word, your grace?" he asked and Rhaegar nodded as he moved forward "He can understand all you say, his clarity will allow your words to take hold."
"We go from here to King's Landing, not to sack the city as you did but to liberate it from your House's poisoned grasp. How does it feel knowing you've failed at all you've done, Lannister? Look around you and see how true that failure is. You tried to end my house, yet my wife and I will see it rise to heights never before seen. We've brought dragons back to the world and it's them that have brought about your end, though we did not do so alone.
Look to the wolves, Tywin, the wolves you sought to end. Look to them and think clearly about your failure. For eight thousand years a Stark has held the North and you thought it would be you that changed that? The fucking hubris you lions have. To even dare to think yourselves better than the houses you see before you. Long after the tales are written they'll speak of my house, of my brothers' and sisters' houses. Guess what they'll speak of yours?"
He watched as Rhaegar held out his hand and as Daenerys took it and moved closer to the Old Lion.
"They'll tell a tale of a house that reached too far. One that believed themselves to be far higher than their station. They'll speak of a man who led his house to its doom. Long have you wished your name alone to cause fear when it was spoken, in this, you'll at least be successful. For in the future when they speak of Tywin Lannister, they'll do so fearfully indeed. His fate will be one that none will seek to share and his house a cautionary tale." Daenerys said as Rhaegar looked at him and nodded.
"For Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon, my prince," Rhaegar said and Oberyn swore he could see the glistening of the king's eyes.
"For Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon, my king," he said as he stepped forward and brought about Tywin's end.
The Kingsroad 299 AC.
Dany.
She'd not feared for him, not truly. He had promised her that he'd not leave Ōñosmaghare back until the fight was done and she'd no reason to doubt his word. So while others had worried, she had not and her lack of fear was proved true when she'd heard her children call out for their larger brother. Seeing just who was being held in Ōñosmaghare's talons was something that she had welcomed greatly. Tywin Lannister to be as defeated and broken as much as his army had been, was their goal after all.
Watching as the Lion of Casterly Rock was dropped unceremoniously to the ground made her laugh loudly as it did those around her. Then as the black dragon landed, her eyes sought out her husband's to find Rhaegar doing likewise. He and Arya climbed off the dragon's back and then she looked on while he moved to thank Ōñosmaghare for all he'd done. The sound of the dragon's trills ringing out loudly and showing her just how much alike all dragons truly were. Her children loved it when she praised them and she'd done as Rhaegar was now doing after she'd landed too. It showed her that not only were the fire-breathing dragons alike but so too were those who rode upon them.
While Rhaegar moved to her, Arya moved to her brother and to his wolf. Dany was barely able to hear the words spoken between them and unable to hear anything a mere moment later when she was embraced and kissed passionately. There was a hunger in that kiss that inflamed her own. A desire and a promise of things to come and so as much as she wished it not to end, she felt less put out when it did than she might have.
"You are well, unhurt?" Rhaegar asked and she nodded that she was before raising her eyebrow in silent question "I am too, as is Arya and Ōñosmaghare."
They were joined by Prince Oberyn but briefly. Rhaegar's words sent him to his true prize and the look on the Dornish prince's face promised that Tywin would suffer greatly this day. Taking her by the hand, Rhaegar led her to where Arya and Robb Stark stood. Arthur, Barristan, and Jorah all took up their positions behind them as he did so. She was soon laughing as Rhaegar mussed Arya's hair and was slapped hard by his sister for doing so. The beaming smile on Arya's face belying the words that named her brother and king as stupid.
"Our victory was full?" Rhaegar asked.
"Comprehensive, your grace." Robb Stark answered.
"Our losses?"
"We suffered some, your grace, though far fewer than a battle of this size should have inflicted upon us." Ser Barristan said proudly.
"Then we should rest up, celebrate, and then make our plans for the march to King's Landing," Rhaegar said to nods.
As much as she and her husband wished to spend time alone together, for now, it was not to be. Other than some more all too brief kisses, they'd not even get to spend the next few hours together. For she agreed with Rhaegar that if they went about things separately it would lead to their work being done more quickly. So with Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah at her back, she walked among their men and thanked as many of them as she could, while Rhaegar did the same on the other side of their camp.
Dany spoke to common soldiers, to wounded men. She commiserated over the loss of friends and allies and praised men for their courage. With some men, she lent them a welcome ear and with others, she offered them an even more welcome touch to their shoulders. The looks they shared with her after she'd done either were ones that showed they'd appreciated the gesture. As was Ser Barristan's words to her when she had come to the end of her sojourn through the camp.
"Years from now those men will tell the tale of the queen who shared a mug of water with them, who asked them about their needs and offered them a warm smile or touch. Not in my lifetime have I seen such, your grace. I am most grateful I got to before my time is over." Barristan said proudly.
"These men fought for Rhaegar and me, Barristan, we owe them much and what I offered them was little," she said softly, not comfortable with the praise her knight was giving her.
"Not at all, your grace, what you offered them was more than any queen or king has before. I know for I served more than one." Barristan said and she nodded and allowed him his moment.
They heard the loud cheers long before they reached the other side of the camp. Rhaegar stood with the men of Skagos and held a mug of ale in his hand as he was being regaled by tales of battle. The Magnar and the Skane both still wore some of the blood of the men they'd killed and she doubted they'd lost too many today. Standing there, she watched along with Jorah and Barristan as Rhaegar laughed, japed, patted men on the back. Her husband then sang their praises before Arya moved to speak to him and he turned and saw her.
"The Mighty Dragonqueen." Rhaegar called out and soon the same words were being shouted loudly by the men around her.
It brought a blush to her face which grew even larger when she heard the words the Magnar said that named her as the mightiest warrior on the field that day. Though she felt even more deserving of it when he named Rhaegar as her second. When she was offered a large mug of ale, she saw how they looked at her, their eyes challenging. Drinking it down in one go was hard, yet she managed it and then the cheers rang out even louder.
"The Mighty Dragonqueen."
"Tonight we'll celebrate our victory and on the morrow, we march to make it a full one. To the Men and Women of Skagos." Rhaegar said loudly.
"To the White Wolf and the Mighty Dragonqueen."
She looked at her husband as they walked away. His smile was beaming and he looked a little drunk to her eyes. The smell of the ale showed it was not the first he had drunk and yet he clearly still had his wits about him.
"How many ales did my husband drink, Arya?" she asked turning to his sister while beside her Rhaegar shook his head.
"I cannot answer your question, your grace. A squire's first duty is to her king." Arya said and they both heard Rhaegar's chuckle.
"Good girl, you'll be a knight sooner than most with that attitude." Rhaegar said winking at his sister.
"My husband's mood is good," she said smirking, and then she let out a loud shriek when he lifted her from the ground and spun her around.
"More than good, wife," Rhaegar said before then kissing her.
They were still laughing when they reached the tent that had been given over to them. She and Rhaegar finally being allowed to spend some time alone. The kisses they shared didn't lead to where either of them wished and yet it bothered her not. They'd lay together later that night, both of them knew so. For now, it was simply each other's company they wished for.
"I had not dared hope that it would go this well, Rhaegar," she said as they lay in each other's arms.
"I had," he replied.
"King's Landing won't be so easy."
"A different fight, a different day. We can worry about it on the morrow, tonight we drink and make merry my love. The men will welcome seeing us share it with them as they did to have a queen speak words of praise and commiseration." Rhaegar said looking at her with clear pride in his eyes.
"Or a king sharing an ale with them," she said making his chuckle.
"I cannot compete with mine own wife, I need to bring more than just myself to the table, ale levels the field," he said smiling still.
"So you're saying without an ale, you cannot match me?" she asked her eyes alight as she challenged him to come up with an answer to what was not really a question.
"Not even with one in hand, you're unmatchable, it is known," he said and her laughter was loud until it was silenced by his lips
Dragonstone 299 AC.
Aemon.
Waiting for news of a battle you'd no idea had taken place was a strange experience. It brought a different sort of fear and doubt to you and so despite his own faith in his grandnephew and grandniece, it had led to sleepless nights. Aemon knew the odds, believed in Rhaegar's plans and of course, knew the edge the dragons would bring. Yet until the raven had arrived declaring their victory, he'd not tempt fate by ignoring the possibility of defeat.
The odds were in their favor during the Rebellion as well. They had more men, arguably better leaders of those men too, and yet by the end of the Battle of the Trident, his house was almost extinct. True this time the odds were even more stacked for their side. Had they dragons on the Trident, then he'd no doubt they'd have won, but for some reason, he couldn't quite bring himself to feel as confident now. Was someone to ask him then he'd put it down to the fact that he cared more for those fighting now than he did then.
During the Rebellion, other than some letters shared with Rhaegar, he had no real contact with his kin. He'd never met Princess Elia or the children, nor Aerys and Rhaella. Not even Rhaegar himself had he ever laid eyes upon. His Grandnephew he knew and had helped set on his path. He'd helped him to walk that path and was helping still. As he had his grandniece. They to him were living breathing memories where his kin during the Rebellion were more abstract ones. So he cared more for them, feared more for them, and so he now worried more for them.
While he hid those worries from Sansa Stark and her mother, he could not from Shiera. He could try, but the woman had a sense of things and had caught him on his late-night walks more than once. She'd done her best to allay his fears. Had even had managed to do so on some occasions. Though once he was alone again they soon returned. Looking out the windows at the dark moonless night, he found himself wishing for her to do so tonight and so made his way to her room. Aemon was happy to find her awake and almost waiting for him when he got there.
"Another sleepless night?" she asked as he took a seat and she poured him a glass of wine.
"Another sleepless night." he sighed as he took a swallow from the glass.
"Brynden used to say that it was not the battle itself that brought on his fears or doubts, it was the eve of battle. That once the battle was upon you, you cared only that you survived it. He would say that before it, then it was all those things you'd not said or done that would plague your thoughts." Shiera said almost losing herself to a memory of sorts.
"I find being on the periphery of one to be just as taxing," Aemon said.
"Our kin will be successful, Aemon. Both Rhaegar and Daenerys have already fought and won in this war. With their dragons, there is no enemy they cannot force to their knees and so I fear not for them."
"Have you seen their victory?" he asked and she shook her head "Has Bloodraven?
"He has not shared all he's seen with me and his powers are far stronger than even mine own. I'll say what I've said to you already. Brynden saw a path and both he and I then walked it. We did so because of Rhaegar and Daenerys. Without them, we are lost and I cannot believe that their fate was to come to this point and go no further. They are far too important for that. I say that not simply as their kin, but because I believe it to be true." Shiera's words were spoken as firmly and truly as he could have hoped for and they once again had the effect of relieving his fears.
"Forgive me for burdening you with an old man's doubts."
"We are kin, Aemon, I'm happy to help lighten the load you carry."
They spoke some more, Shiera changing the mood and talk turning to far more pleasant things. He felt lighter and in need of his bed by the time he left her room and sleep eventually came to him. Waking the next morning it was to the rookery that he went. Seeing no new ravens, soon raised his concerns once more. After breaking his fast with Shiera, Sansa, and Lady Catelyn, and doing his best to relieve the two ladies' worries, he then spent the rest of his day doing his duty as Hand of the King.
There were preparations to be made for when the war was won, contingencies for if it was not, and Aemon spent far more of the day on the former than the latter. A Small Council, Wardens, and Lords Paramount, rewards for those who'd answered the call and punishments for those who'd not. He wrote out list after list, discarded ideas for the future, and solidified others. All in an effort to keep busy and in this he was very much successful. So much so that he was late for their evening meal and had missed his luncheon.
It meant that he had a surprisingly full appetite when he sat down to eat and it was as the first dish was placed in front of him that the raven arrived. When he was handed the scroll and he saw the Three-Headed Dragon seal, he felt his hands shake and he looked at it for a few moments before opening it. Breaking the seal, he held his breath and began to read the words. The smile came to his face unbidden and the exhalation of his held breath soon followed.
"The Lannister and Tyrell armies have been defeated, soundly so. Mace Tyrell and his son. Ser Kevan Lannister and most of the Lords of the West and Reach are held prisoner and our own armies suffered few losses. Rhaegar and Daenerys are unharmed as are Lord Robb, Ser Brynden, and Arya." Aemon said happily, he felt no need to mention that Ser Arthur and others were unharmed as well. Since for Lady Catelyn and Sansa, it would their kin they'd worry for first and foremost, as it would be for Shiera.
"Tywin Lannister?" Shiera asked when the relief and good cheer had died down.
"Is where he belongs, in the Seven Hells." he said to a vigorous nod of agreement from Lady Catelyn.
He told them that the army was to march on King's Landing. That with the defeat and the prisoners they held, the war was in essence over. Something that relieved both Lady Catelyn and Sansa Stark immeasurably. He noticed the true smile on Sansa's face when he said that he'd been ordered to send word to Lannisport. Her smile only grew when he told her that their forces there were to depart and make their way to Dragonstone and then King's Landing.
Aemon then answered as many questions as the contents of the scroll allowed him to. He handed it to Shiera who read it and handed it back and the dinner they ate became far more of a celebration than a simple meal. Later after Lady Catelyn and Sansa had taken to their beds, he and Shiera sat and spoke more on the battle itself. The knowledge that it truly meant the war was all but done was something that now really set in.
"I feel a fool for my doubts," he said as they sat by the fire.
"Doubts are good, Aemon, a man without them is a fool. And they need you to doubt from time to time, to fear even. They need it so that they do not."
"Because I'm their Hand?" he asked to a shake of Shiera's head.
"Because you're their kin and your doubts and fears will keep them safe."
"They will be safe." he said determinedly and caught the small smile as Shiera rose to go to her bed "They will be."
Beyond the Wall 299 AC.
Benjen Stark.
He should be dead, by all rights he knew he should be. Had they not come for him when they had, then he would be. The foes he'd faced were so beyond him, that it was as if the gods had decided to make a jape at his expense in his last few moments. Then they'd come out of nowhere and had he not seen them with his own eyes, not been the one who'd done so, then he'd have named the teller of the tale to be a liar. After all the Children of the Forest were simply tales, right.
While he'd been outclassed and outnumbered, they'd only been the latter. The fight they'd brought to the dead men who'd attacked him was one that they were ill-prepared for. Never had he seen anyone move how the Children moved and even now moons later, he would still doubt he'd seen what he'd seen. Even when they now sparred and trained with him, he'd doubt it. Especially since facing him, they moved far more slowly than they did that day. Still far too quickly for him mind.
After it had all been said and done, they'd told him to burn the bodies and he'd got a true look at the things that had ambushed him. He offered them his thanks and told them that the Watch needed to know. Benjen had then been stunned when he'd been told that it would do the world no good if that was the course of action he took. That it was not the Watch that would save the realms of men from the dead things that sought its end, it was his nephew and the woman he loved who'd do so.
"Robb?" he asked.
"No, the one you know as Jon Snow. Though that's not his name and he's not who you believe him to be." the Child answered.
"Who is he then?" he asked, half knowing the reply he'd get, or so he thought.
"Your sister's son."
"Lyanna," he said softly and fought the anger and sadness that he felt in equal waves.
"The Raven wishes to speak to you Benjen Stark. Be thankful that he chose to do so for your fate was to fall here this day."
They'd taken him to the largest Weirwood he'd ever seen and to the caves beneath it. Benjen then found that there were more of the Children who named this place their home. Yet that hadn't been the biggest shock that had awaited him there. Seeing the man in the tree would have been enough to leave him speechless. Hearing that man name himself as a former Hand of the King and Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, truly did so. Brynden Rivers, Lord Bloodraven, the man with a thousand eyes and one. Was it not for the Children and the branches that seemed to be a part of the man, then he'd never have been able to accept his words. And he needed to, gods did he need to.
The tale he'd been told was less about Bloodraven, more about the events of a rebellion and it placed them in a new light. Things he'd ignored at the time of it, had then come back to him and he cursed himself for not speaking up more. Of course, she hadn't been kidnapped and forced against her will, they'd have needed to kill her to make her do what she wished not to. It had been love. Love, and the wish to not be forced into a marriage that was not of her choosing that had brought Lyanna and Rhaegar together. Love that had cost her, her life, and then the lives of so many others. Yet as much as he'd wished to concentrate on Lyanna, it was Jon that his heart truly broke over.
"She held him but the once, the babe she'd brought into this world. The Song of Ice and Fire that she and my kinsman sang for us all. A child born out of a true love, Benjen Stark, naught is more powerful than that and even the gods have wept over your nephew." Bloodraven said.
"I didn't know, had I but…"
"It was not for you to know. Not for any but those who'd play their part when the time was right and that time is upon us. Your nephew is the king the realm will rally around, the sword that will light the way."
"Jon can't be king, he…the Watch…"
"You think the gods would allow for their chosen to waste his life away at the Wall, that I'd allow my kinsman to do so. Your nephew knows the truth of himself, Benjen Stark, he knows who he is and who he must become. Allies have been sent, plans put in motion and he'll not be alone in all he must do. For as love brought him into this world, it'll be his own love that will give him the strength to save it. House Targaryen will be joined together once more and the true reason we were saved from the Doom will finally be known."
They'd spoken more about Jon, Rhaegar Targaryen as he truly was. Benjen had found himself being hit with reveal after reveal, some of which brought him great comfort, some great pain. That Arthur Dayne lived and would stand at his nephew's back was something he welcomed. The Sword of the Morning was a man who'd keep Jon safe. Aemon too would be a true friend to his nephew and a guide to help him navigate the strange new world he'd find himself in. Hearing about dragons and picturing Jon riding one was something he'd have challenged more, had this been just mere days before he'd seen all he'd seen. Instead, he'd welcomed it and then he'd been told things that were not so good.
He'd sobbed over his brother, felt the tears turn to ice as he sat and looked out over the wide expanse of land and sobbed. Benjen was now the last of them, the last child of Rickard and Lyarra Stark that lived. When he'd heard the how and the why of Ned's death, it had angered him greatly. That anger shared equally with those responsible and with his brother himself for being such a fool. Starks don't do well in the South, yet Ned had sought to prove that wrong, only to find it as true as ever. He'd worried about Jon even more because of it. His path was in the South too, but Bloodraven's words offered him a comfort they should not have.
"He's not a Stark."
Eventually, the time came for him to play his own part and he was once again left stunned and shocked by what that part was.
"Wildlings, you wish me to treat with Wildlings?"
"Men, Benjen Stark. Men, women, and children and no different than those on the other side of the Wall, but for the place they were born. Those things that attacked you were Wildlings once, they lived and breathed and they fell and he brought them back. Do you hate them so much you'd wish that fate upon those who breathe still?"
"No. But they'll not listen to men, they'd see me as their enemy and cut me down long before they'd ever listen."
"Would they?" Bloodraven said.
"I'm a Crow, a man of the Watch, I'm their enemy, to them I'll always be their enemy."
"We only make peace with our enemies. That's why it's called making peace, Benjen Stark. And believe me, there are far worse enemies for both you and they to face in the future."
"I'll try."
Bloodraven had been right, the Wildlings too sought peace, and seeing him with Leaf, allowed for the words to be spoken. He was still looked at warily, though none had raised a hand or even a voice to him in all the time they'd marched. Now seeing the great wall of ice in front of him, he readied to try and extend that peace to men who'd brought only war to the Wildlings up to now. He hoped that Jon was where Bloodraven said he'd be and that his raven would reach him. More than anything he found himself hoping to see his nephew again, to see his sister's son, and to beg him for forgiveness for not doing more for him when he could.
Castle Black 299 AC.
Jeor Mormont.
The reports were getting stranger and every fiber in his body demanded that he order a ranging north of the Wall. Yet he could and did not. Each night he'd go to his bed and when he would be lucky to find sleep, he would then be plagued with dreams of death and destruction. He'd watch helplessly as his men were cut down by things that came from the dark. Things that couldn't be real and belonged only in men's nightmares. He saw an army the likes of which he'd never imagined and across from it one just as big. Dragons being all that stood between the realms of men and those which were very not.
His dreams made him believe that he'd done the right thing with Jon Snow. That if he was right, which he was fearing that he was, then it would be he, Aemon, and his dragons that saved them all. Each report that came to them about the war that raged only made him believe this even more. Tales of dragons burning down the Twins and taking Lannisport were brought back to him by Yoren and others. Those tales filled him with as much hope as they did dread.
He'd sent out scouts behind the Wall, with orders to look and not fight anyone lest they had no choice and only some had returned. The tales they brought of a Wildling army and abandoned villages seemed to prove his dreams to be true. As he readied to take to his bed once more, he prayed to the Old Gods that tonight he'd have a dreamless sleep and for once they listened. Though it was not to be a full night's one that he was to be allowed.
"Lord Commander, Lord Commander." the voice called out loudly and Jeor felt himself being shaken awake.
"I'm up, I'm up for fucks sake," he said after a few moments.
"Corn! Corn!"
"Shut the fuck up you." he said irritably to the thrice-damned bird as he felt the cold air hit him "Now what reason have you for waking me, Tollett?"
"Torches Lord Commander, hundreds of them." Eddison Tollett said fearfully.
He dressed hurriedly and made his way to the top of the Wall. Moving past the men on watch and those who'd come when called. Thorne, Bowen Marsh, and Wick Wittlestick were among the men he pushed to one side as he looked over the Wall and into the lands beyond it. Tollet hadn't been lying, though he may have underestimated just how many torches there truly were. Jeor would name it was thousands, maybe even tens of thousands and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he looked out upon them.
Calling men to arms, he looked out as best he could before making his way back down and to his solar. He wrote out the raven scrolls, to Winterfell, Last Heath, Deepwood Motte, and Bear Island and to those in the South too. Whatever war Jon Snow was fighting meant little now, this war was upon them, and without his and the rest of the South's help, it was one he feared he and the North were ill-equipped for. As he finished the scroll for Dragonstone that was addressed to Maester Aemon, the horn sounded and Jeor was relieved to hear only one blow upon it.
That relief soon turned to shock as Alliser Thorne burst into the room and bid him follow him to the yard. Jeor saw the look on the usual steady man's face and so quickly did as he'd asked. He'd not expected to ever lay eyes upon Benjen Stark again. In truth, he was certain that the man was long since dead and so he'd mourned him already. So it should have been relief that he led with, yet it was the thing beside him that his eyes were drawn to and though his mind told him it was impossible, his eyes told him differently.
"That's a fucking Child of the Forest," he said breathlessly.
He made his way down the steps and walked over to where Benjen and the Child stood. Looking from one to the other, he decided it was best he focus on the one he knew best.
"Benjen, is it truly you?"
"Aye, it's me, Jeor, we have much we need to talk about. Have you sent the ravens yet?"
"Not yet."
"Don't. There's only one you need to let fly this night." Benjen said and he wasn't the only one who looked at him oddly.
"Is that really a Child of the Forest?" he asked and Benjen nodded.
"Aye, this is Leaf," Benjen said warmly.
Shaking his head, they walked to his solar. Jeor hurriedly poured himself a mug of ale which he almost swallowed in one go before he then poured both him and Benjen one.
"Does it drink?" he asked.
"She and no," Benjen said as the Child moved to the fire and seemed to play with the flames.
"What happened, Benjen? And how did you make it past the Wildlings?"
"I didn't. I came with them." Benjen said shocking him completely.
As answers go it was not the one he'd expected and so he waited and listened as Benjen told him a tale that should have made him laugh loudly and yet very much did not. A tale of a former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Children of the Forest, warging and then treating with the Wildlings. The last part caused him to look at Benjen to see if he'd lost his wits and was the lead for Benjen to then tell even stranger tales.
"I was attacked, Jeor, attacked by things that were no longer men. Things that I could not beat and not just because I was outnumbered. I know not how many times I struck them down with my sword, only to find myself facing those I thought I'd ended mere moments later. Had it not been for Leaf and her Brethren, then I'd be a dead un."
"Mayhap it was just Wildlings and the dark of night. We can lose ourselves…"
"It was Wildlings, though not living ones, and believe me the last thing we want is for those who live to join those who are not."
"What are you saying, Benjen?" he asked unsurely.
"We need to treat with the King Beyond the Wall, we need to make peace with those we've named as enemies for generations. For death is the true enemy, the first enemy, and the last, and death is coming for us all."
Later as he sat in his room, he pondered over the words that Benjen had spoken. The Night's Watch would never accept peace with the Wildlings. Were he to suggest it, it would cause a mutiny and yet it wasn't him that Benjen wished to treat or to make that peace.
"A king needs to speak to a king, Jeor."
True words and ones that he would live by. He wrote out the scroll and made his way to Maester Aemon's former rooms. They'd not gotten a new Maester as of yet and so Chett and Samwell Tarly had taken on the duties of one. It was the latter who was still awake and who opened the door to him.
"Lord Commander." Samwell stuttered.
"The ravens Samwell, they're well-rested?"
"They are Lord Commander."
"I need this sent to Dragonstone, right way Samwell, post-haste."
"Of curse, Lord Commander."
He watched as the boy hurried to the rookery and within moments the raven was flying in the sky. Dark wings, Dark Words, was the old adage and yet these words were anything but dark. Jeor believed what Benjen said. Had it been another man then he'd probably not, but seeing Benjen's face, seeing the Child of the Forest, he believed the words he'd spoken. Which meant there were things in the dark of night even worse than Wildlings and to face them he was willing to make peace. Though it would take a king to make the Nights Watch accept it and not a Lord Commander.
The Stormlands 299 AC.
Rhaegar Targaryen.
Seeing the life go out of Tywin Lannister's eyes brought him little joy. He welcomed it and knew it was well deserved, but unlike Oberyn, it didn't make the pain in his heart lessen any. He'd felt that more with the Mountain and Amory Lorch than he did with the man who gave them their orders. Rhaegar was not sure why that was other than it was their hands that had actually done the deeds. The voice in his head that told them without Tywin they would not have done so was one he ignored for now.
Later, the more he thought it thought, the more he was sure it was because Tywin's death had felt inevitable to him for so long. With the Mountain and Lorch, there was a doubt, a worry, and fear that they may escape the justice they deserved. That he, that in facing them himself, there was a risk that they would take his life before they lost their own. Or mayhap it was simply that he played a bigger role in their deaths and had struck the killing blow on Lorch himself. It could well be none of that and instead, it could simply be that he was still focussed on the rest of what was to come.
Tywin's death and the beating of the Lannister and Tyrell armies didn't end the war, it just brought that end closer. Until King's Landing itself fell, the Lannisters were still in control of far too much of Westeros and far too many people's lives. So while around him people celebrated the battle they'd won, while Dany rested in their bed, he and Arthur sat at his desk and went over the plans to take the city. They discussed what they would face, whether or not they could force a surrender or would need to simply take the city. The two of them then accepted and discarded different plans all the while.
"You should sleep, your grace," Arthur said after some time.
"I fear I cannot, Arthur, whether it's the remnants of the battle still in my head and thoughts of the one to come."
"We'll need you rested, Rhaegar. For all of it, we'll need you rested." Arthur said and looking to the other man, Rhaegar nodded and took his advice.
"You too, Arthur," he said and though he agreed, Rhaegar doubted he'd do as he was bid.
He slipped quietly into the bed beside Dany, his wife was sound asleep and looked so at peace that it brought a smile to his face. Though he tried his best not to disturb her, she woke somewhat and he bid her go back to sleep. Something she only did once he took her in his arms and his own sleep came soon after. It was he that woke first the next morning. Rhaegar rose and dressed and then helped Dany do the same when his movements finally grew loud enough to wake her.
"You slept well?" he asked as he helped her into her armor, it may not be needed but both of them would be protected as they marched with the men today.
"I dreamt of Dragonstone, of dragons. I saw…"
"Dany?"
"I saw children, Rhaegar, a boy and a girl on Rhaegal and Viserion's backs. They looked so happy, so content and I heard the dragons as they sang out in their own joy," she said smiling beamingly.
"You said your dreams come true, Dany. What a dream this will be," he said as he kissed her softly.
After breaking their fast, they mounted up on their horses and began to ride to King's Landing, Arya taking her place in front of him as soon as they did so. He and Dany spoke little on the march, to each other that was. Dany spent her time getting to know some of the lords that she'd not spent much time with. while he spoke to the Lords of the Reach and to Oberyn. He knew they wished to know his plans for the Reach and other than the fact that it would no longer be the Tyrells that he named as Wardens, he told them little. Now was not the time for naming a new Warden or for dishing out rewards.
He and Aemon had discussed the makeup of the realm after the war had won. From the Small Council to the Wardens and Lords Paramount, to what houses would need to be removed and what ones would face lesser sanctions. They'd gone over contingencies based on which houses would rise for him and which would not, and what to do with both sets. His granduncle had told him that he needed to be firm when dealing with those who'd not answered his call. Aemon had emphasized that the reason for how they'd gone about things was to find out who was truly Leal and who was not.
Those plans had cost him a brother. Robb was no longer someone he thought of how he once did and he told himself if he could see Robb Stark punished for not coming to his side quickly, then he could certainly punish those that he felt fewer ties to far more easily. Yet it was not as easy as he'd imagined. A part of him didn't hate some of those who'd risen against him. He didn't feel anything other than a disappointment if truth be told. Nor did he feel any love towards those who'd risen, though some he felt to be more true than others.
"You need to spar," Arya said from in front of him on the horse.
"You need to ride alone," he said with a chuckle.
"I can ride," Arya said smugly.
"Aye, I know you can, and in time you'll need to. Not yet, however, as I find I enjoy my squire's company far too much to forgo it," he said knowing without looking that she was smiling at his words.
"You do need to spar, brother. I can feel the tightness in your grip."
"We'll spar when we stop for luncheon," he said and she nodded eagerly.
"Would mother have gotten the raven yet?" she asked a moment later.
"Aye, we're not far from Dragonstone, it would have arrived early this morn."
He had sent word to his granduncle almost as soon as the victory was won. Aemon he knew would inform Lady Catelyn and send word to Winterfell too. Rhaegar wondered if the woman would care that he was unharmed, or would it be simply Arya and Robb's condition that brought her comfort. Sansa he knew would be relieved that he and their sister were well and that her brother was. Lady Catelyn he wasn't certain about. They'd come to an understanding of sorts, a place where they could move forward and things were not the same between them as they'd once been. Still, he was not her blood and so other than how his being unhurt helped protect them, she may care not.
"I told you, a spar," Arya said and he felt her bump her back against him to stop him from pulling so tightly on the reins.
"Aye, forgive me, little sister," he said as he relaxed and gave her more room to breathe.
They got their chance to spar a few hours later and she was proved right in his need for it. Rhaegar noticed how around them people lined up to see him and Arya cross blades. He could see the surprise on some of the faces of those who'd not seen his sister wield a sword. Some of them seemed far happier about it than others. The men of Skagos and the North all cheered Arya on and looked at him even more fondly when the spar stopped and it became more lessons than not.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robb standing near Dany and wearing a look that was both happy and sad at the same time. Another time, another place, and he'd be doing this with him. They'd be crossing blades as they had in the yards of Winterfell or he and Arya would be doing as Rhaegar and she was doing now. Bringing the lessons to an end, he shared his jug of water with his sister and then watched on like an eager parent when she and the Sand Snakes began to go about their forms.
"She's come on greatly, your grace, rarely have I seen someone improve so quickly," Oberyn said as he moved towards him.
"There is none more dutiful or keen than my sister, Prince Oberyn. She wishes to be the first woman knighted, the first to wear a white cloak and I dare any man to tell her that she cannot," he said as he looked to her fondly.
"As would I."
"You didn't wish to speak to me on my sister, though did you?" he asked and Oberyn shook his head.
"The Tyrells, your grace. What plans do you have for them?"
"They'll lose the wardenship, after that it depends."
"Depends?"
"On Lady Olenna and what she does next."
Oberyn clearly wished to say more, but the arrival of Dany stopped that and they were soon marching again. They rested up that night and it was to the dragons that he and his wife went. Drogon and Ōñosmaghare both wished for them to ride them and though it was a dark moonless night, it was something that he and his wife wished for very much. He caught her looking to Rhaegal and Viserion more than once, her thoughts no doubt on the dream she had and he soon found himself almost seeing them there. A boy and girl, their children, all four of them flying the dragons against a bright shining moon. It was a dream he very much wished for and one he prayed came true.
The Stormlands 299 AC.
Ōñosmaghare.
He and his brothers had shared in the memories of their victory. They'd looked through each other's eyes almost. The words of his pride in them still resounded and were welcomed. As did those that spoke of the victories to come. Which of them felt it first he knew not. Him, Rhaegal, Viserion, or even Drogon, all of them felt it though. The feeling only grew stronger when they flew that night with his rider and his rider's other.
The two small hearts beat as strongly as the larger two. They called out in the same voices that he had once heard his rider do for him and Rhaegal and Viserion, sang out their answer. It was a song he himself had sung but moons earlier, a song he'd longed to sing for so very long. To hear his brothers now sing that same song brought him joy of a different sort. It was not the same as what he had felt when his rider called out for him, yet it was as close to it as something can be without being.
After they landed and when his rider had praised him and thanked him for all he'd done, and after his rider's other had done the same to Drogon. Both he and his oldest brother looked on as his rider's other moved to their younger two. Were there any doubt that the song he'd heard had been true, then it was soon washed away. Rhaegal and Viserion both moved to be closer to his rider's other so they could be closer to their own riders. Closer to the mother that had hatched them and would soon hatch the dragons that she bore inside her.
The song rang out loud and clear and he felt the moment when his rider knew the truth of that song. Yet it was not to his other that his rider looked, but to him. It was to him that he walked and to him that he shared his joy with. To him that he shared his fears with and to him that he sought to chase away those fears. His rider had no need to. For Ōñosmaghare and his brothers would make certain that their riders would be hatched. They would burn the world down to see it come to pass. See it in flames and when he heard his rider's words, he and his brothers answered them in kind.
No one would harm their family, no one.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up next: As the army marches to King's Landing, Cersei contemplates a dire action and Jaime readies to face the demons of his past. Olenna plots a way out of her family's predicament while In Essos Tyrion gets to know a would-be king and his hand better while Stannis readies his return at the head of an army of gold.
Aemon the dragonkight is the next fic to be updated.
Aaronssthans: Your wish is my command.
Anoymous: The big problem with that is Oberyn, I think he'd not be able to give him more than a night to live which is what I went for here. I agree, I think you can use the dragons for a little bit of shock and awe, show exactly what they can do without going full Field of Fire, and if that doesn't work then you can let them go into full attack.
Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.
Celexys: I try to vary the battles as much as I can, here it felt right to set it out so you could see the moves play out that way. Tywin is not a coward, but he's also not the type to go in for the whole self-sacrifice bit, live and fight another day I think is right up his alley.
Supremus: What conquest did Robb win? He was named a king, he won a couple of battles, not the North's independence, hence why you know he was still fighting. Had he turned and gone home after winning his battles, closed up his borders, and then repelled any attacking force that tried to invade, then he can you can say he won his independence. But he did not, in fact, he loses his family home, the most strategically important of his keep, plus a few others to the IB while he's still fighting the war.
Jon's birthright is a claim, one he's perfectly entitled to make, especially with Joffrey or Tommen sitting on the throne. It's one he's perfectly entitled to make with Robert sitting the throne as his family was deposed, not attainted, deposed. To enforce that claim he's going to have to conquer at least some of those opposed to that claim, however his claim to the throne is fresher than Robb's claim, as countless generations of Starks have accepted the Targaryens as their liege lord right up until the Rebellion and then accepted the victor of said Rebellion, the North only seeks it's independence now, not 300 years or 200 years or 100 years or even two years earlier, they've given up on the right of the King's of Winter and their claim to the throne right up to Robb's very own father. So on one hand you argue Jon has no right to claim a birthright, yet on the other Robb has a right to claim one that his family has given up on for generations.
Jon's family never knelt, they never accepted the rights of the man on the Iron Throne, Robb's family did. That's the difference, one House gave up its birthright, the other had it taken from them, so who's got the truest claim out of Jon and Robb in that scenario?
Would they have won a grand council? Who knows, Robert claimed the throne by blood as much as conquest and Jon has a truer blood claim, but it's politics and might that would probably have won the day. What you don't take into account is that without Ned supporting Robert's claim it creates a much bigger issue than simply moving the North over to the other side, it gives those supporting Robert pause, for if he can't get his closest friend's support, is he then the right King? What's to say that Jon Arryn doesn't accept Jon's claim? The Reach you say would be divided, why? For what reason? They're Targ supporters and still would be. Does the Riverlands vote with Ned Stark or Robert Baratheon? The simple truth is that in a Grand Council there is as much a chance of Jon being named as King with Jon Arryn or Ned Stark as Regent than there is of Robert winning the vote, maybe even more so as there would be those happy enough to think they could gain an advantage. But it would never come to a vote, Robert would never accept it, hence why it's never even considered.
In regards to Ned, yes he usurped his nephew twice, his reasoning for it is not that he was doing so nefariously, but that he thought he was doing the right thing, it still doesn't change the fact that he did so. As for the Wall, it's pretty much the only option he gives Jon, true he doesn't send him, but he goes out of his way to lead him to that being all that's open to him. Then allows him to swear his oaths under a falsehood by not telling him the truth of himself. I've said it before and so I'll make it clear here once again, I have no problem with Ned not putting forward Jon's claim either post the Rebellion or years later. Neither was the right idea to do and his reasons for not doing so were in his mind good and true ones. My issue is that knowing who Jon truly was, Ned gave him no options, made no plans for him, and in the end let him swear his life and future away. If Jon was Ned's bastard son, then so be it, but he's not and so everything needs to be looked at through that lens. Had Ned given him a name, a keep, a future, then I'd take no issue with him whatsoever, as I've said countless times, but he did not and so every action he does take has to be viewed through that lens. Letting Jon go to the Wall and swear his life and future away while at the same time betrothing Sansa to Joffrey and putting your grandchildren on the throne is a usurpation, as is then supporting Stannis as king later on.
One last point as we'll not agree on this. Jon's issue with Robb not kneeling is that Ned was willing to kneel to Robert Baratheon, to a brother by choice, while Robb isn't willing to kneel to Jon, someone he called a brother for true. Robb's birthright is Winterfell, Jon would never have sought to take that from him, his birthright is the Iron Throne and Seven Kingdoms, yes he'll have to fight and conquer them, but unlike his brother, his family never knelt willingly, they never accepted that they were beholding to another. Robb's did, and now that it's Jon that he should be beholden to, he's not willing to accept it.
The North had every right to push for independence for 300 years, they didn't even when facing the Targs during the rebellion, so no, Robb has no right of birth to the throne of winter, he too is trying to take it by conquest, the difference is, he lost.
I hope none of the above sounds harsh or as if I'm having a go at you, we see things differently but there is no malice in my words, and none I see in yours.
Anarra: So glad you liked it.
Tfranco: Thanks for saying so, I find battle chapters to be hard to read at times myself, so I try to make them as interesting as I can. Olenna is up next so you'll get your wish. With fAegon I'm going in a different direction with him than you may think, he's not true, but he won't be the usual dick we see him as either.
Rhatch: I think the only good thing to say about no Willas/Garlan or Arianne/Quentyn is that in the hands of the idiots who wrote the show, only God knows how terrible they'd have been or what stupid fate they'd have given them. They managed to shrink the realm down to basically the Starks being the only ones that matter, it was pathetic. The way they carved up the kingdoms at the end was a sure-fire recipe for civil war, neither Bran nor Sansa would sit their thrones for long.
Sibeal: I did consider him escaping but it would have felt as if I was dragging things out and I couldn't see Jon ever allowing it to happen. Tywin was the true prize in the fight and it's a long ride to KL for them to be able to outrun a dragon and not have it be a bit too much.
Oonighteyes: So glad you liked it.
Dunk: Not having someone like Varys on your side and both being unaware of Ōñosmaghare or that Dany's dragons could fly to the battle so fast put him in a terrible position. He was guilty of hubris too, thinking that Oberyn would do as he would and not as he did. Jon played it well too, turning Tarly and making it seem as if it was only the North he would face was always going to play into Tywin's pride and we all know what that leads to. I think sometimes people go into the battle scenes and try to make them more even than they should be. Four dragons alone is a certain win, never mind the advantage of numbers and the use of the hammer and anvil.
Vwchick: Very glad you thought so.
Mattblack: I'm actually glad you picked up on that, he shouldn't no. But would Jon know that? I mean given his education and what he believed his status to be, would he not just go with that way of speaking because that's what he knows. Now Arthur maybe should point it out or someone else, but Jon, Dany, they weren't actually raised in the intricasies of the proper use of titles, so that's what I've been going for, can you guess who's going to point it out to them?
FatMirvman: Thanks so much, it just felt so right to have that quote there in some fashion.
Arata: Really glad you thought so.
Myafroatemydog: So glad you liked it.
Emma: I'm the same tbh, they aren't my favorite things to read and so when I write them I try and make them flow and be as interesting as they can be. Not quickly was pretty much Oberyn's decision in regards to Tywin, he had a whole night of fun. I'm attempting something different with fAegon so hopefully, it works how I mean it to. Yes you're very right in regards to Dragonstone. I do think that is the biggest issue with the Targs seeking to take back their throne, Dany, Viserys and Faegon even were he true would all face the foreign invader issue. Jon doesn't and he also gets a little of the fact he's half Stark, allowing people to not see tar him as the Mad King's child.
Darkjon: Er ist viel herumgekommen und wir werden das später noch mehr sehen.
Aegon: Very much so and even more after the end of the show. I will admit that I was a Stark loyalist through the books, but a Jon one above all. After the end of the show I find it very hard to be a Stark Loyalist, yes they won, but how they won goes against everything they were supposed to stand for Imo and the show is a Stark Wank by the end. Not content with killing off their futures, they denigrate them and have Starks be all who are important. Arya killing the NK, Bran on the IT, Sansa as QITN, and Jon sent back to the Watch, the show is the book that Cat wrote.
Dorodigo: So very glad you enjoyed it.
Angeloux: Rhaegar was never king and it's only kings who are numbered. So it's the same as if Jon is actually named Aegon, he'd be the sixth of his name, not the seventh, since his brother was never crowned. There have been more than six Aegons in the Targ line, but only five have been king.
In regards to the chronology, the thing is that at times you have to mess a little with it for dramatic purposes. I also try to show events from different perspectives and the things that lead to those events, so there is a little bit of crossover. I know it can mess with the flow of things, but for certain chapters and certain events, I do feel it's needed. Other than that, I'm so glad you're enjoying the fic.