A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31 – THE CONQUERED

Rychon sat at the head of the wide table in the Hollow, lost in the dark silence around him, where only the candles fought against the shadows. He hadn't eaten anything in at least a day, but a collection of stones in his stomach would not allow anything into his system. Berin had insisted feverishly on a trial, and he now found himself wondering if he should go through the additional effort of granting it. It would not change anything. He was of low birth, and a traitor. He would die for this betrayal on his family. It burnt through him, that he could have the audacity to do this to them. His father gave him everything he could ever want, and this was how he repaid him for that kindness... It was the deepest treachery. He trusted you to keep her safe, and that's what you did when he was gone... A soft knock roused him, and he looked up.

"Enter." the door slowly edged open, and Bella carefully stepped inside before closing the door again.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, and he sighed as he looked away.

"Like a finch, stuck in the mud." he tried. That was definitely some place they were not meant to be. He was a phoenix, not a finch. But he had little doubt that they would fare any better.

"You weren't present for supper." she noted, but even the mention of food made him feel sick.

"I can't eat anything. It won't stay where I put it." he breathed, and she walked slowly forward. She knew why he felt this way.

"Won't you reconsider, about Falgon?" she asked, and he looked at her.

"No." he refused. The punishment for treason was death, always. In any part of the kingdoms. Why would he be treated any differently?

"Please. He has done nothing-" she started, trying to persuade him; but a lash of flames cut across his stomach. Of course she would try. She has always loved him. He was precious to her.

"Nothing? He lay with my mother because it would benefit him, and you call that nothing?" then he looked away.

"In the end he turned out to be nothing but a self-serving, low born peasant. I suppose I should not have been as surprised as I was. He was a mercenary." he said, and then heard her approaching him.

"He's not like that, and you know it. And your own father never cared about a person's lineage. More than two thirds of the household servants are commoners." she reminded him, and he scoffed.

"It's one thing for a lord to take a commoner into his service, Bella. It's another for a lady to take one into her bed." he pointed out. No one cared about who worked in the home of a nobleman. Hells, there wasn't even much concern for whom he shared his nights with. But turn it the other way around, that was one of the greatest scandals one could imagine, and could ruin the standing of a great house with a single unwanted whisper. No one could know about this, so perhaps a trial was not the wisest option. In all likelihood, he would not deny the accusation. If he knew anything about him, he might even confess to them. But, did he really want that? No, he could not risk it.

"How are you so sure that he's a commoner?" she suddenly asked him. But that was something rather clear, so asking that was pointless.

"We really know nothing about him. We don't know where he came from. Even his name is one that my mother gave him. How could he be anything else?" he replied to that, but she shook her head as she glanced down.

"He is far too refined to be of low birth." she told him, recalling his ways, his mannerism, his words, the way he spoke. There was nothing common about him, at all...

"He spent years in the halls of nobles. You learn from others. What better way to work your way into someone's life to seize control..." he justified while her eyes stared at him, and the flames continued to eat their way through his body.

"Think about what you're saying, for a moment if you could. If that was the case, would you have been the liege lord now?" he sat back. Half true. Succession gave him blood right to Mount Ardor and its region as Raeghun Taugere's only son. But because his mother did not remarry to a lord with sons of his own, older than himself. If she had, the hold would only become his after the death of that lord, and his sons in the event that they were not fit to assume his place.

"That does not matter." he decided, and she sighed.

"Of course it does. Rychon, your position and its expectations are blinding you to the truth." she told him, and suddenly he stood, slamming his hands onto the table.

"Truth?!" he called out, his eyes burning into hers as the fire consumed him.

"What truth?! Tell me this truth!" he demanded, but she remained oddly calm, staring back at him with her hands together in front of her.

"We have both known Falgon our entire lives. He has never lied, he has never sought out power. He is not arrogant. He has only always protected us. Whatever happened, however foul it seems to you now... He loves her. Can you not grant him that?" she pleaded, and he noted the shine in her clear, deep green eyes. It was something she absolutely believed. To her, it was a truth as pure as sunlight.

"He does not love her." he denied it. He'd never loved anyone, had never shown the slightest bit of interest in anyone... except for his mother.

"He does. And you're the only one who cannot see it..." Am I? He turned away from her, taking a space in front of the window to bring the cold night air over his burning body. He wanted to yell at her, but a stinging to his mouth kept the words at bay. Everything she'd said was true, regardless of how much he wanted to deny it. Was he acting, simply out of anger? Would he have felt otherwise, had he found out differently? Perhaps not. I can't just let him go... Nothing changed it, and right now he wanted to be alone.

"Go to bed, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow..." he forced out calmly.

"Are you sure?" her voice was low, and still compassionate. But, he needed time.

"Yes, I'm sure." he replied, and heard her leave the Hollow in silence before closing the door while he remained staring out over the distance into the darkness. His hand went around the gem hanging from his neck, his mother's words whispering at the back of his consciousness. What truth? Gods help me, what truth? Never had he felt this lost, while in the deepest reaches of the darkness a shadow moved through the shaded passages of the vaults, hidden under black robes as her soundless footsteps took her to a murky cell. She knelt at the corner hidden in the gloom, wondering if she'd found him. There was no movement, no sound.

"Falgon..." his name was a whisper in the stillness, but then his figure slowly emerged into the low light of a far off torch.

"Lady Milla." she smiled.

"Oh, good. I feared I was lost." she breathed as he approached.

"What are you doing here?" he seemed surprised.

"The guards are asleep, so I stole in." she explained.

"Does Berin know?" she shook her head.

"No one knows... I didn't see the jailer, though." he looked up, scanning the passage.

"He's around here somewhere, so you can't stay long." he advised.

"I know. I just, came to give you this. I know the food down here isn't very appetizing." she brought a small twill bag from her robes, stuffed with a handful of crispels taken from the kitchen. He lowered himself and took a seat on the stones on the other side of the bars next to her.

"You shouldn't have done this, it was a great risk." he said as he gently took the bag, but he smiled.

"But thank you." in the low light, she could make out the discoloured streaks over his back and shoulders.

"What have they done to you?" her words were high, laced with horror. But he shrugged.

"It's not serious." then his thoughts went away from himself.

"How is her grace? Is she al right?" she looked down, watching the shadows flicker over the stones.

"She's been confined to the lord's wing, else she would have come herself. If she had the power she would have you released, Falgon. I have no doubt of it." she assured as she brought her eyes back to him, her fingers curling around the cold black iron, and he looked down at the stones.

"I don't care, my lady. As long as she's safe." he told, and she thought of her friend.

"She's safe, but she's brokenhearted." she glanced down.

"She... she wanted me to tell you. That..." she hesitated for a moment. She should not have to apologise. And if he was to die with the sunrise, he should know that.

"She loves you." he watched the stones in front of him. Did he believe her? But then he looked up at her, the faint torchlight reflecting off his eyes.

"And I love her. I would like for her to know that..." he said softly, and she smiled despite her own broken heart.

"She does. She does..." she reached through the bars, and took his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Falgon. About all of this. If I could change it, I would." this was her fault, she was the cause of this. But then he sighed, placing his free hand over hers.

"Don't worry, Milla. Everything will turn out as it should. Let fate decide where my path goes from here." he told her, so calmly all she could do was stare.

"Aren't you afraid?" he seemed to smile, then.

"No. I've not had a fear of death for a long time." then he lay his head back against the stones.

"I sought it out, once. Perhaps that was what drove it from me..." he breathed, and then the distant sound of a gate drew his attention.

"You should go, if you're discovered here it might only cause more trouble." he cautioned, and with a slow nod she stood before starting her way down the passage. But a few feet away she stopped and turned back.

"Berin is pressing for a formal trial. I pray that the gods are merciful, for my mistake." she told, but he remained as he was.

"He would have found out, sooner or later. I would sooner have it been later, under better conditions. But, I suppose it couldn't be helped." he said, and the same sound from before echoed down he stones.

"Good... goodbye, Falgon." she greeted, her voice sounding like the tears hidden under her hood.

"Good night, my lady." he returned, and she vanished into the dark while he remained, resting against the cool of the stones. He recalled her face, her tender smile, her gentle voice, her cold, pale hands, her soft sweet skin, her beautiful blue eyes, and her hair, shining like midnight and starlight just as it was now somewhere outside, where in the shadow of the woodland a small hunched over figure leaning on a thick wood staff stood watching the great keep, firelight reflecting off the sunstone walls and illuminating the air around it.

"Not going quite the way you thought, is it?" another joined him, tall and black, holding a pair of pliers in his right hand, and a long wood staff in his left. The little man turned to meet him.

"His heart has hardened, this is quite unexpected." he sighed.

"Perhaps if he knew who he is, he could be persuaded." he proposed, and the smaller man looked down, away from him.

"I had hoped, not to relive that tragedy..." he muttered dismally, and the tall figure's face went up to the height of the stronghold.

"We don't have the time to be fastidious, the Wall has fallen. Show him. With the "Eye" he will see clearly." he instructed, and the little man looked up at the walls again.

"Dragons... Always the dragons! If it weren't for those damned monstrosities, the Wall would have stood another hundred years at least, and there would be no need for any of this. This is the second time that the path has been swayed..." he complained, but the tall man simply sighed.

"Fate has her own whims. As her hands, we only obey. Show him." he ordered, and the smaller man nodded.

"As you say..." he agreed, and then watched the tall figure cast the pliers over the edge of the cliff to the waters far below before moving away and vanishing into the darkness. He breathed in deeply, and let it go slowly. That was a time, that was lost to all, and for a good reason although there was no justice in it. Then he reached down, taking a sample of dirt and slowly rose up, rubbing the dust between his fingers and watched as a grey powder escaped from the particles that fell, and slowly drifted up on the wind to the highest chamber of the lord's wing where Rychon sat on the edge of the great bed, removing his boots. He was immensely tired, and sore, and heartsick. He'd found his mother in the cold of the garden, sitting on the ground next to the fountain with her right arm and head resting on the edge of the basin, half asleep if not entirely. She might have been praying. He picked her up and put her to bed, covering her with the thick sheets; and wished he could tell her... but he couldn't. And so he left her for his own. He fell down on the mattress, trying to ease but couldn't, if this was what it meant to a liege lord, then he wished he'd rather been someone else. But this was the road he was given, and he had to walk it. And each step would take him forward, there was no way to go back. He breathed in, there was a strange smell in the air. Something like tree gum, dirt, coal and sulphur. His vision started to blur, and his head was swimming. Was he this tired? He hadn't eaten either. He could feel every pulse through his veins, the cool air flowing over him like soft waves from a listless ocean, and then closed his eyes, swept away into deep, senseless, unconscious sleep...

Rychon's eyes opened, and he stood in a long, dark hallway that smelt of damp and dirt. He was dressed in old riding boots, woollen breeches and a faded tunic; and the amulet hanging from his neck cast a soft glow in the darkness, something it had never done before. Looking around there was nothing but a few candles on the walls, both ways seeming endless as it stretched into darkness, the only movement a cool breeze brushing past. What in all of the hells..? Then he heard shuffling coming up behind him, and turned to see a small hunched over man draped in a cloak of brown, a thick staff in his left hand and eyes white as mist set in a face as old as time itself, above a sharp, slightly curved nose.

"Greetings, sire." He said, soft and courteous.

"Where am I?" Rychon asked, his own voice sounding dim and hollow in the echo of the shadows.

"In a different place, in a different time; somewhere long forgotten, sire." The man said, and then turned around.

"If it please, sire. Will you walk with me?" Rychon started forward, following the little man down the long hallway illuminated by candle light.

"Who are you? What am I doing here?" he asked as he watched the man shuffling along ahead of him.

"Dreaming. Seeing. Learning. This part of your world's past has been lost long ago." He said, then the small figure glanced up at him, with a light smile.

"As for me, I've not had a spoken name in years, but you may call me Addam, if it please you, sire." he told, and then brought his eyes back to the long hallway stretching endlessly before them.

"I don't have time for this." Rychon muttered, almost irritated with the little man.

"Have patience, sire. You would not be here if it were not needed, I assure you." He smiled as he looked up. Moments later they stopped at a large arched door with torches on both sides.

"See with unclouded eyes, discover with an open heart and all will be clear." The man instructed, and then opened the door to reveal yet another hallway, awash with light.

"His is not yours to end, sire. A devastating storm comes, and a shield is needed for the long night." Rychon stepped through, and paused for a moment before turning back.

"Where must I go?" but he was looking out of a window over vast green fields, lush woodlands, and high blue mountains in the distance under an overcast sky, and he realized that he did not recognise this area at all. He approached and looked down at a wide stone courtyard bordered by a low stone wall, gated with a great stone arch, and people passing on their daily businesses as women carried baskets filled with harvests, young boys led horses from and to stables, a couple of squires sparred next to the low wall while others were watching, and more men inspected a wagon. The stone was hard and ragged against his palms as he leaned forward, scanning high rough walls on either side of him. This was no castle, wherever he was, was carved directly into the belly of a sheer cliff. In which of the seven hells am I? Then he heard footfalls, heavy and drawing. Rychon looked up, glimpsing three tall men, all garbed in earthen colours approaching him. They were ferocious, dark haired and clear eyed with defined jaw lines, light and shadow dancing over clean characterized cheeks, muscled like plough horses; and there was an almost terrifying aura around them, not of evil but of power. The foremost the tallest of all; with dark hair brushing about his shoulders, powerful scarred arms open to the breeze where a band of woven leather was tied around his left arm, stern features and even sharper eyes of gleaming golden amber. A man he knew.

"Falgon!" he called to him, but he passed without so much as half a thought, moving sure down the long hallway. Rychon watched them, studying them. Who are they..? These people were different, taller and more stalwart than normal; and then as he examined them, the way they looked, the way they moved, the thought came that a mink had more fat on it than these three men combined. There was a draw to them, and he felt an odd but irrefutable bond to this tall warrior, and he decided to follow. Down through the passages and into a great stone hall, sharp spines adorning the cap of the immense space where another tall, elderly man with long dark grey hair and a full beard sat on a throne carved from stone, a crown of white marble around his brow and a magnificent glistening battle axe of black steel mounted behind him. His right eye was a light gold, while a battle scar cut over a blind left; and at his feet lay a massive muscled dog, the pelt shimmering like beaten gold while silver lined its muzzle and ember orange eyes that watched the hall. It looked like an overgrown mastiff, but had sharp ears and a cleaner, more defined face. Rychon lingered behind, hidden by a wide pillar supporting the arch of the roof where daylight spilled through high carved windows. The man smiled broadly at the approaching men.

"Aetes!" the tallest man took a position under the dais in front of the throne, and bowed formally before rising, and Rychon watched him. Aetes..? Who are these people..?

"You summoned me, majesty?" he addressed, and Rychon felt a rigid coldness run down his spine as the deep voice met him. He even sounds like Falgon...

"Take your finest. Bring us back something suitable for tonight." The man seated on the throne instructed. He might not have the finery expected from regal houses, but there was a definite air about him that echoed his presence. This was the king, and the men smiled excitedly as the tallest bowed his head.

"Yes, father." He agreed immediately, and then turned grinning at the others. Rychon could see the brightness of his eyes, even here. Father..? Fuck me, that's the prince...

"Let's go." They started towards the door to the outside world, and then a woman appeared, tall and slim and beautiful with dark gold hair and agate eyes, dressed in crimson and shadow.

"Aetes." She called, and the prince paused to face her.

"Be careful, in the woods." She advised, but there was no true care in either her words or voice. He said nothing, just stared at her for a moment and then turned away to vanish into the light. There was kinship, but no fondness between them, not even a trace of kindness... Who is she..? She was younger than he was. A disliked wife, perhaps? But Rychon felt compelled to follow them yet again, and made his way outside behind them. He trailed behind as the prince called out, and several men and women near as tall as he was were drawn to him like bees to honey with bows and spears, one of the men who had been with him inside seized a bow of his own from a wagon. Then he looked up at the height of the cliff, and whistled. High and hard and sudden, but shorter than a heartbeat. A moment later the loudest bark he'd ever heard echoed through the courtyard, and another beastly hound came running towards them, fur red as the sunset and bright as copper, eyes glowing like embers. It bound forward, and the thought came that the creature might run into the prince at full speed, but the moment it reached him he raised his hands as the dog leapt up once, and then simply sat down, watching him intently.

"Do you have to take him?" one of the men asked, the younger of the two that had come down from the peak. The tall prince smiled at him.

"The king's order was to take my finest. Dusk is a better hunter than you." he quipped, and then the youngest smiled.

"If you're taking him, I'm taking mine." he decided, making their leader laugh.

"Then bring her. Let's see how she does." he urged, and the youngster whistled, hard and sharp just as the prince had. Moments later, another huge pale hound bound towards them, just as tall but not quite as muscled as the red one. Reaching them, the red beast suddenly snapped at her, making her immediately lay down on the ground, watching him with her ears pulled back as he growled with teeth bared.

"Your hound is a disrespectful brute. That's no way to treat a lady." the youngster complained, but the tallest simply laughed.

"He's just telling her to stay back and leave the hard work to him." he assured, and then looked back at the dog. He made only two strange clicking noises while pointing towards the tree line, and the dog sprinted for it with the other at his heels as the hunters continued to follow to the woodland. Rychon shadowed them, trying to hide himself the way they did as he watched them. The way they moved between the trees, concealing themselves with shrubs, trees and the shadows of the coming twilight darkness; the hunt was all but silent as these people and their hounds, all of them close friends, sought out their prey like a pack of wolves, coordinating their efforts with no spoken word but with small gestures and the sounds of nature, mimicking the sounds, calls and clicks of birds. They're so precise... he tailed them, and by sunset they brought down three elks and a mighty boar that would win a prize from their king. He would definitely see that as suitable... All of them, made him think of the tall warrior, and he could only assume that these were of Falgon's ancestors; but a gnawing, nagging, pestering acknowledgement that this man whom he had felt so undeniably connected to, was the same, and completely different at the same time twisted in his gut like a hungry snake. This prince who now stood examining their catch with the monstrous dog at his side was named Aetes. But could two people, even throughout history be such mirror images as to be identical but for temperament? Addam had said that this was a part of their history, a part that was lost and forgotten. But why? Surely these people would have been known to someone? Then the prince smiled.

"Good. Now let's get these back to Sanctum." he told, and they started to gather up their prey. Sanctum..? Is that the name of that cliff? He watched them, following as they hauled the carcasses home, suspended on thick branches between some of the men as they laughed at one another's jests. He'd never heard of any place in the kingdoms called "Sanctum". Was he even still in Westeros? Despite trying to hide himself, and imitate them if he couldn't, no one spared him so much as a glance. Can they even see me..? He thought of reaching out to try and touch someone, but then let the notion go as they emerged from the woodlands, making their way back to... whatever it was. It looked like a giant stone horn protruding from the earth, openings carved into the surface as windows and a massive doorway above stone steps where they'd first come from. They entered the stone courtyard with Aetes at their front when two little girls came rushing up to him laughing and shrieking excitedly as they ran while another young black dog followed, loping along clumsily. Twins that could have been four or five years with dark locks and bright gold eyes.

"Atie! Atie!" He knelt to meet them, wrapping his arms around them both as theirs went around his neck. Who are they? His daughters? But he thought it unlikely that they would call him by a name like that if he was their father.

"My sweet baby sisters." He kissed their cheeks and hauled them up on his strong shoulders just as a young woman, dressed in goat-hide leather came rushing out to him. Sisters... and he loved them dearly, it was clear.

"I am so sorry, sire... they... they got away from me." she breathed, and he looked down at her.

"See that it doesn't happen again, or you won't get away from me." he said, keeping his voice low and calm; but Rychon could see the shock in her face. This wasn't the first time.

"Y... Yes, my prince." she promised. One of the girls pointed down at the black dog who sat staring up at them with its short tail wagging excitedly.

"Hero!" she exclaimed, and the prince laughed.

"Yes, that's your Hero." he agreed, and then surrendered the girls to the young woman, but still they reached for him.

"Atie! No go! No go!" they cried, but he took their hands as he smiled.

"I'm sorry. I'll play with you later, al right?" he assured as Rychon watched. The prince was kind and gentle to children, just like Falgon. It's not him, though... he reminded himself.

"Get them back inside." he ordered, and the girl nodded.

"At once, sire." Then Aetes turned, allowing the girl to return to the... mountain, is it? A hill? A cliff? Either which way, it would be named Sanctum, mumbling to the little ones about how they'd gotten her into trouble again. But then he saw Aetes smiling, trying hard to stifle laughter, and he knew. This man would never harm any woman, ever. Just like Falgon... Then, discarding the thoughts he glanced at the red dog with another short, sharp whistle. It looked at him, and then bound away to where he might have come from.

"How do you do that?" one of the hunters asked, and he laughed.

"Patience, and persistence. War Hounds are very difficult animals to work with, as you well know. I've had him since he was a few days old, so it was easier. Our bond goes deeper." he shrugged, and then walked away, passing the group of friends where they were still waiting around their kills, debating on how they would be prepared for the evening feast when one of the men turned and noticed him.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He was one of those who'd come down the hallway with him this afternoon, slightly shorter, his hair cut short but with the same piercing eyes, in a lighter shade. A brother he assumed, but didn't quite get the name. It sounded like they'd called him Dray.

"To meet my jewel." Aetes replied with an impish smile, and his sibling approached cautiously, glancing around. His jewel? Who's that..? A mistress?

"Father would skewer you." he warned, but the prince remained smiling. His father? Not his wife?

"And that's why you will make sure he does not know." he returned confidently, and Dray glanced down with a sigh, and a smile of his own.

"Of course I will..." he agreed, and then looked up as Aetes walked away.

"Say 'hello' to her for me!" he called after him as he waved him off. If this was a secret, it might not be one of the best kept ones, save from the king perhaps. He cast the group a wondering glance, but they seemed to ignore him. And then he walked away, following the tall figure in the distance, making his way back to the woodland and into the shadows that played there. Then he vanished for a while, and Rychon was left tracking through the woodland, thinking. He could feel the brush of the grass and leaves against him, the smell of the forest around him, hear the songs of the birds. Is this place real? What am I supposed to do here? His thoughts went back to the man he'd imprisoned. He looked exactly the same, but... he had no name. Could these really have been his people? And if they were, and they were lost and forgotten, where in the hell did he come from? In all truth, the longer he stayed here, the more questions he had; but if he simply kept following the forest path due south-east, he would find him again. And so he did, a good while later and time seemed to have changed when he was lost in thought. The forest was light, and in a small clearing next to a pond the prince sat on the grass with a woman in front of him, both bare to a cool summer wind with their clothing discarded nearby, engaged in the sweetness of a kiss with her arms around his neck and his circled around her waist. His jewel..? Her dark hair touched her neck, and her skin was a rich bronze, fed with days of sunlight just like his, although much less scarred. She was shorter than him, and notably younger. Twenty, perhaps. She drew back, and with two fingers delicately brushed the dark strands of hair from his face.

"I love you, Aetes." she told him, her voice like a silver bell in the still of the woods.

"And I love you." he returned, his eyes bright as she laughed.

"You'll remember to ask your father?" she reminded him, and he smiled.

"Of course I will. I promise." he said, and her arms came slightly away, her hands resting on his broad shoulders.

"This is the first time in more than a year that you'll be home with Lua." she noted, and he nodded to that.

"That might be because of the eclipse, so I'll be expected to be here. But tomorrow will be my last patrol to the north border until after that, I'll be gone for just a week." he told, and she stared at him in silence for a moment.

"Do you think he'd approve?" she asked, perhaps nervously if not curiously; but then he pulled her slightly closer.

"He'd better. With Arun've mi Lua he can not refuse me. Besides, both my brothers have been wed to suitors he chose, he can give me my own choice." he said playfully, and again she laughed, bringing her hands up to his face.

"Oh, my prince." she breathed, running her fingers gently down his smooth cheeks.

"Four and thirty years... Over ten years my senior. Why did you wait so long, to choose someone?" she asked, and he in turn brought his hand to her face.

"I was waiting for you, my love." he teased her with a soft kiss to her neck. Rychon thought back to the woman in the hall.

"You're strong. And fiercer than some of our men. I won't let my heart be traded like some piece of copper." he determined, and she sighed. So, if you've not married yet, then she's not your wife... who is she? A sister? A cousin?

"I'm a fifth-blood, remember?" she said. Fifth-blood..? More, and more questions...

"I don't care. You are a Stoneholder, your blood is as noble as mine." he said, and again smiled, pride glistening in his striking eyes.

"I am Aetes Rhinemar, heir to Sanctum, and the next Stone king. You will be my queen. Our sons and daughters will be born princes and princesses. A good future waits for us." he assured, and of course it was so. He was the prince, after all. And he knew it. She laughed, and took his hand pressing it securely to her stomach.

"And the name for your first son?" she hinted.

"Easy. Eorlund. The name of my father's father." he said without pause, but then hesitated as she seemed to stare at him and the expression on his face changed to wonder.

"How long?" he asked astonished, and she shrugged.

"Six weeks, maybe seven. Depends on whether it was the cave or the river." Rychon glanced away, with a soft smile of his own. The jewel was carrying the prince's treasure...

"The cave, I think." he heard Aetes suggest, and she laughed.

"Six, then." she said, and he brought her closer to him, holding her tightly against his chest.

"My father will approve. He must." He wasn't married yet, this first son of the king. But meant to be, and was waiting for the best opportunity to ask his father, who would not be in a position to decline.

"I love you." she told him again, as her arms circled his neck, but he drew back to look at her.

"And I love you." he said before kissing her again, and slowly let his mouth wander down the length of her body as Rychon turned to make his way back to Sanctum, leaving the sounds of pleasure behind him as he tried to piece together what he'd seen. Stoneholders they were called, their only notable stronghold a peak called Sanctum, a prince named Aetes Rhinemar in his thirty years who'd only just chosen a woman to spend his life with, if his kingly father would grant it under something called Lua. Powerful people with shades of earth in their eyes. No one he'd seen was any shorter than he was... but some were much taller. Giants blood perhaps? No, giants have not been south of the Wall in thousands of years, if indeed he was still south of the Wall. But judging from the heat that was very possible. And different bloods? If she was a fifth-blood, then what was he? Blood? First-blood, that should be it. How many were there? He stepped into the light of the sun, and once again time had suddenly altered behind his thoughts. It was late noon when he looked over a field, a dozen bodies strewn over the grass, all but hacked to pieces while men cleaned their blades and two more huge brass brown dogs moved about, inspecting the fallen. A massive horse approached them, raven black with white points, on its back the prince was mounted wearing a heavy brown cloak over his garments and the grip of a great sword visible behind his right shoulder. His red War Hound called Dusk loped along at his side. He scanned over his men, and the bodies.

"Is that everyone?" he called over them, and the closest man looked up at him.

"Seems so, sire. None left living." he replied,

"Good. Leave the corpses, the jackals have pups to feed." the prince said, starting to turn his horse, but in that moment a loud growl sounded from one of the dogs as two of the large men brushed by Rychon, giving him little thought as they moved forward, dragging two forms with them.

"What about these two?" the youngest of them asked, and Aetes glared at the new faces as they were thrown down in front of his destrier. The man was old, withered and stone grey. The other was a girl, small and reedy with wild brown hair, maybe seven or eight years old. Crying, she quickly scrambled to her feet and went to the old man whom took her in his arms, trying to comfort her through his own trembling while she stared at the men around them, her eyes white with fear. She's scared to death... But Aetes looked at them, unaffected.

"Where did you find them?" He asked one of the men, who glanced down at them.

"In the shrubs, sire. Says he's a fisherman, with his granddaughter. They were hiding from these bandits." he reported as Aetes dismounted his steed, and the girl shrieked.

"I'm scared, Opa! I'm scared! Please, don't let the giants eat me!" she cried, and the men surrounding them with the dogs laughed heartily while the prince only smiled lightly. But the old man continued his attempts to soothe her. What are you going to do..?

"It will be al right, little one. It will be al right..." he calmed her, but his voice was as terrified as her own. The youngster stepped forward, an axe in his hand and a hungry leer in his earth brown eyes.

"We should kill him, as our laws bid. And the girl..." he started, but Aetes looked at him sharply.

"If you touch her, I will kill you." he directed, without so much as a hint of repression. Perhaps his response made Dusk snarl at the youngster as well, he couldn't be sure. The young man stared back at him, seeming to be slightly confused, as if this was uncharacteristic.

"They're not Stoneholders, what does it matter?" he pointed out. No one else moved, but there were hushed murmurs, flouts and sniggers from the warriors, while the dogs only watched the strangers, growling protectively.

"We may be giants, but we're not beasts. Fuck your wife if you can avoid her fists, but leave the child be." he told, and the youngster grinned, the trace of a hint behind his features as he lowered the axe.

"Want her for yourself, my prince?" he supposed, and Aetes approached him.

"With another word, you'll want my fist in your face." he looked down at the young man, and Rychon noticed a familiarity to his eyes. Were they... burning?

"This is your first patrol with me. I don't give half a shit what you do on your own, but I will not allow this." he stared back for a moment, but then looked away, thinking better of answering. Then he turned and came back to the cowering pair, looking down at them.

"Where are you heading?" he asked, and the old man's eyes shot up to his, followed by a moment of silence as he still held the child, clutching onto him.

"L... L... Lan... Lannisp... p... port... s... sire." he finally managed with a vehement stutter.

"Do you know where you are?" Aetes asked again, and the old man shook his head. The prince sighed, and then pointed to a shadowed thorn sticking through the horizon far in the distance.

"If you see that peak, you are within the Stoneholds. Our lands are prohibited to strangers." he explained, and then rounded the old man to stand in front of him. What are you going to do..? Rychon watched as he lowered himself slightly, regarding the old man intently, and the petrified, crying child in his arms.

"Make sure you never see it again." he told, and then stepped back, looking at the men surrounding them.

"Let them go." he commanded, and the look of relief on the old man's face was as near to drunkenness as Rychon had ever seen as the Stoneholders stepped back with their hounds, breaking the circle around them. The old man lowered himself.

"Thank you, my prince. Thank you. Thank you, so much. I will never forget this. Everyone will know of your benevolence, I swear-" he started as Aetes started to move away.

"Go, before I change my mind." the prince said with a brief backward glance as he made for his horse, but then one of his men took hold of his arm. One of the hunters who'd gone with him the day before, or was it a week? One of his friends...

"You know our laws, Aetes. The laws of your father." he warned, but the prince pulled free.

"Better than you." he breathed, and then walked forward again to claim his steed.

"You will be sentenced for this." he told softly as Aetes mounted his warhorse, and looked back at him, and then sighed.

"Likely." he agreed as he watched the strangers start to move away from them due north towards the large port city.

"Mount up! It's a long ride home." he called, and his men obeyed. His word was absolute, and rarely if ever questioned, it seemed. He was superior, and he knew it. He waited as his men claimed their horses, and they started off back towards the thorn, the great dogs keeping pace with the steeds easily, and Rychon followed behind looking at the grass. The gem around his neck was still glowing... You let them go, and this is something against your laws..? Why would you do that? You were in the lands of the Stoneholders if you saw the peak of Sanctum, and these lands were forbidden to anyone but themselves. There was no hesitation to kill anyone who trespassed, whether it be intentional or by mistake. Their north border was close to Lannisport, so he was somewhere south of the Westerlands. But, he let these strangers go. People he didn't know, people he owed nothing, but why? His attention was on the little girl for a long time... That's why. Hard as he was, he was kind. He cared about children, just like Falgon... But there were severe differences. He stopped suddenly, noting that the grass beneath his feet had altered to stone, and the light was a shadowy twilight around him, then looked up into the dark doorway of Sanctum in front of him. How the fuck did I get here so fast..? It didn't feel like a dream, it was far too real; but for the strangeness of it, he forced himself to believe that it was. Voices drew his attention, shouting from inside and he hurried forward again into the great hall where a group of people, his brothers among them, stood facing the throne where the king loomed over them with the gold dog standing next to him, both glaring down at his son, who waited in front of him just below the steps. The redness to his face gave statement to his dire rage.

"You've disregarded our laws!" he yelled down at him, but the prince faced him evenly.

"It was a fisherman and his granddaughter." he told, but the king cared little.

"You let them go!" he accused.

"They weren't a threat!" Aetes snapped back, and the king took a breath.

"Our laws are absolute. And we have them for a reason!" the king bellowed, but the prince scoffed at those words.

"What could they possibly have done to us? Come after us with fishing hooks and nets?" he taunted, and a sheen of ruby flashed over the king's already red cheeks. What are you doing..?

"You don't understand-" he started, but Aetes took a single, defiant step forward, bringing a defensive snarl from the golden hound.

"I understand, that your laws will kill us all in the end! If you want to sentence me, do it! If not, I have better things to attend to." he again snapped back, bringing the tallest to a sudden, sullen silence. He was unafraid, even of the king. A woman stepped forward from next to the throne, the same gold haired woman he'd seen earlier.

"Your actions are treasonous, Aetes. Treason has its punishment." she told him deliberately, and he looked at her, his glare cold as winter frost.

"I speak with my father, the king. Not you." he bit back irritably as the king glanced at her.

"He is my son..." he breathed softly, but she simply smiled at him, unmoved by his words.

"You have others, majesty." she said coldly, and the king looked back at the prince while a long silence hung over the hall, so heavy it could be felt pressing down on him. Death? Does he deserve to die, for sparing someone's life..?

"Two days... And twenty-seven stones..." the king finally decreed, to the horrified gasps of those looking on. As he turned to reclaim his seat on the throne, someone from the mass moved forward. Another brother of the prince, the youngest.

"Majesty, no sentences save death, has warranted more than twenty stones. Surely-" he started, attempting to persuade the king otherwise, but he turned stubbornly.

"Twenty-seven stones! And two days." he declared loudly, and then sat down suddenly seeming overly tired. Stones..?

"Take him away." he ordered, and five of those who'd attended proceeded to guide the prince away to receive his fate. Rychon looked at the woman, standing with a smile as they led Aetes from the hall, looking rather satisfied with the outcome. Why do you hate him so much? What has he done to you..? then she went to the king's side where he sat stroking his dog's head, the creature watching him. There was almost a sadness in its bright eyes.

"Oh, Glory. What am I going to do with him..?" he sighed, but the hound simply stared back. The queen knelt beside him, placing her hands on his. But as her fingers touched his, the hound unexpectedly snarled at her, and she quickly stepped back.

"Don't be such a jealous bitch!" the king scolded the dog, who then whined almost apologetically.

"Another one who doesn't like me..." the queen breathed, but the king only laughed.

"You've been mine for almost ten years, but she has been my companion for sixteen. In her eyes, she surmounts you." then he looked at her.

"But don't worry, she won't harm you." he assured, raising his hand to take hers, and her fingers went around his as she tentatively stepped closer and he waved the dog away, who then lay down next to the throne.

"You've done the right thing, my beloved. No outsiders have breached us in thousands of years, because of these laws. And he has the audacity to do this? What destruction-" she started, and the king sat back with a heavy sigh.

"I know you've had your... disagreements, Leza. But he is my son. He will be king after me. Perhaps..." was he starting to doubt himself? But she took his face gently in her hands.

"Do not question yourself. He brought this on himself by his actions. He disrespected you-" then the king laughed.

"Aetes has always been stubborn. But he has gained the respect of every man in the Stoneholds because of his actions, and has never respected a man unless he has earned it from him. That's just how he is. How he's always been since his tenth year after my damned fool brother..." he trailed off, but then he smiled looking away from her.

"He may be a king as deserving as Aecaeus himself, one day. He's a lot like him, if the stories are true..." he breathed. Aecaeus? Who is that..? Then he stood, pulling her to her feet with a wry smile.

"Come, I'm tired." he told, and then led her away to the steps leading into the core of the stronghold with the dog following as Rychon felt himself disgusted for a moment. You heartless puss... You sentence your son, and then exempt yourself with that..? He turned, rushing for the door where the men had vanished moments ago. Where are they taking him? I have to find him... He stepped through the arch, and the stone courtyard had vanished in his absence. He was looking over an endless flat landscape awash with the copper light of sunset, stones jutting from the earth here and there, and a woodland to his right side. On the horizon two tall obelisks towered amidst a pile of boulders, like two fingers out of the ground where the men had gathered. He ran forward, watching as one of the men secured rusted restraints around the prince's wrists who'd been relieved of all but his leather breeches; the chains running up and through a chink in each of the stone towers, the last of the links hammered with nails into the large boulders behind them. The man looked up at him, it was one of those that had led him out of the hall. But there was a sadness in his hazel eyes.

"May this remind you, why outsiders are not welcome here." he breathed, but Aetes scoffed again.

"I know why, I'm not stupid." he said, and the man nodded. They left him there, chained to the stones in this desolate place, making their way to a party of horses waiting nearby, and again the tip of Sanctum was only visible on the horizon far away in the distance as they started back towards it and the light of the sun vanished from the world, and Rychon approached him where he'd taken a seat against the stone. Behind him, he could make out the remnants of what were once small homes visible here and there. Should I talk to him? Would he even hear me..?

"This was the site of a slaughter, thousands of years ago. Did you know that?" the prince said, and Rychon stared at him stunned. Is... Is he talking to me? Then he laughed, laying his head against the stone, his eyes lost in the distance.

"Of course you knew that, you damned simpleton..." he breathed, and Rychon eased. He still couldn't see him, and in this solitude he was talking to himself. Rychon lowered himself, and took a seat on the grass close to him, watching as he picked up a pebble and cast it away, landing on a low wall some feet away.

"'The Slaughter of Graveltop' they call it now. From king Aecaeus and his wife came the nine lines of the Stoneholders, and our people flourished. It is said that the fifth-bloods owe their eyes to his doe eyed queen. But, when the Blood-Feud wiped out five of the nine bloodlines leaving our people weakened, the Westerlanders came grappling for land. They killed everyone here, down to the last child, and burnt as they went. Outraged, prince Dowryn managed to drive them out with his warriors, and then closed our borders to everyone, ordering all that were not of stone blood be killed on sight should they trespass here. Everyone knows this..." he told, and then looked down.

"But, with only four lines and no outside lineages our people have been left further weakened because of inbreeding. Only the strong survive. There are less than two thousand of us now..." this wasn't part of the story. It was a bleak truth. And then when he looked up, Rychon noticed a glint in his striking eyes. Determination, maybe...

"When I am king, I will reopen our borders." he vowed, secretly to himself. The night passed quickly, and largely without incident, only the sounds of the chains jingling occasionally in the darkness. Wild dogs came and went, but gave the man a wide birth. A lion sauntered in well past midnight looking for an easy pick, but the prince smiled as he stood. What are you doing?

"I won't be a good choice for you, my friend. All muscle and no meat." he told the beast, but chained and unarmed he really had no way of defending himself should the creature decide to attack him. It stared at him for a long moment with eyes glowing green in the shadows, then snarled and slinked away as silently as he came, and with a relieved breath the prince settled back against the stone to wait out his sentence. Brave, aren't you... Some time later, another burly creature sauntered out of the darkness, panting heavily as it came closer, and Aetes grinned. It was Dusk.

"How in the hell did you get out of your pen?" he asked, raising his hands to the dog. His muzzle was tattered and bloody, but through smears of blood he licked the prince's face as his hands stroked down the powerful shoulders. But then he laughed.

"You're a bloody loyal fool, you silly beast." he told, and then the hound lay down at his feet. The day blew past unnaturally fast, while with nothing to do the prince watched the cattle herds grazing in the distance, the clouds floating by or slept, occasionally seeking out the shade of the tall stones from the heat, all with his furred friend at his side. Once, the hound wandered off, returning some time later with a fat hare in his powerful jaws, and put it down at the prince's feet, who laughed.

"No, dear friend." the dog lay down, watching him.

"You should go ahead and eat it. This shouldn't be shared, with me." he urged, stroking the massive creature's head, and a moment later the hound proceeded to consume the meat, fur and all. Night settled, and in the deep darkness, voices and footsteps drew his attention, summoning a protective growl from the dog when three figures emerged from the distant shadows, one carrying a torch and a bag. Aetes stood from the ground, watching the figures close the distance, and then smiled as the growl faded and the faces were revealed by the light of the torch. His brothers, and Jewel. They were all dressed in earthen leather, with dark cloaks over them to hide their presence. But she cast her shroud off as she ran to him, clothed in high boots, breeches and a threaded hide tunic. Her arms circled his neck as his wound around her waist, and they held each other.

"You shouldn't be here." he breathed, but then laughed.

"But I'm thankful you are. This place is dreary, to say the least." he said as he released her, then lay his hand tenderly against her stomach as he leaned down to kiss her, and his brothers joined them.

"You're a fool, Aetes." the youngest complained, and Aetes met him with a solid stare.

"I'd rather be a fool, than some mindless savage." he told back, and Dray threw the bag at his feet before shoving the torch into the ground.

"You need to eat something. Keep up your strength." he told, and Aetes looked down, the opening revealing a waterskin, a loaf of bread, strips of salt beef and several fruits. He must have been starving, but he shook his head.

"No. I've been sentenced to this, I will bear it." he assured, and Rychon watched as they settled in a small circle at the base of the stone, Dusk remaining at his master's side. Rychon pitied him. He had really done nothing wrong, but he accepted his punishment with no complaints. Just like Falgon... they spent the night with him, just talking. Finally, Jewel looked up at him from where she sat at his side.

"Aetes, why did you let them go?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"I don't know. If it was just the old man, I likely wouldn't have cared." he said, but she remained staring at him.

"And yet, you did." she pointed out, and he stared off into the distance for a long while before breathing out.

"I was thinking of my sisters. What would I have done, what would I have felt... if something like that ever happened to them?" he revealed, and they spared a glance between one another.

"Aetes, our sisters will never be harmed. No matter what." Dray comforted him, but again he shrugged.

"I know. But, what if..." he sighed, and the youngest chuckled.

"They have been crying for you a lot, though." he told, and Aetes leaned back.

"I'll make it up to them." he promised. Then he looked away at the horizon. Dray glanced at the large hound, peaceful at the prince's side.

"Should we take him home?" he asked, and Aetes laughed.

"He does as he likes." then he ran a hand down the length of the dog's back, bringing the ears up from their easy angle as the bright eyes opened.

"How is your training faring?" he asked, and the younger prince shrugged.

"Slow. But he's still young. Justice might even rival your Dusk some day." he tried, and Aetes nodded.

"Patience, and persistence. They're powerful, stubborn creatures. Like us, they were bred for battle. But once you bond, there is no loyalty that could match theirs." he encouraged, and then glanced up at the purple of sunrise starting to lighten the sky.

"You should go. If you're found here it will only cause more difficulties." he told, and they stood to take their leave. His jewel leaned down and kissed him, running a hand down his face.

"I'll see you tonight." she whispered, and then left with his brothers as he lay down on the dirt and watched the sky. The day was spent much as the one before, until twilight when the Stoneholders started to gather and he stood, while Rychon came to his feet. Again, his friends, brothers and jewel among them, but the king himself did not come, and he was left wondering. Was it shame, or carelessness that kept him away..? One of them stepped forward, holding a stone in his hand.

"Twenty seven stones, your father decreed, my prince." he announced as two others took places on either side of the tall stones.

"Then, best get to it. My responsibilities have been left neglected." he told, and then the chains were seized and pulled, spreading his arms to his sides. A moment of silence followed as the first man stared at the stone in his hand, perhaps debating on what he should do. Then he drew back, and half-heartedly threw the stone, which bounced off the prince's knee. Aetes looked at the stone where it fell, and then looked up at the man who cast it with a grin.

"Is that your best? You have the gall to call yourself a Stoneholder when a fucking fish spits harder than you!" he taunted, and Rychon cringed. He had no wish to be treated differently from anyone else. Then another stepped forward, lunging another stone at him, harder than the previous one, striking his stomach and leaving a dark stain. More stones followed, six, nine, thirteen, fifteen... they struck his chest, his abdomen, his arms, his legs. Two even struck his face. He spat on the ground, glistening blood staining the dirt, and his body was quivering, the assault wearing on his deprived muscles. Another stone struck his shoulder solidly, darkening the skin. Rychon wanted to yell at them, scream at them to stop, but knew he would not be heard. No stones were cast by the brothers or the hunters, and the prince's jewel was crouched to one side with her arms wound tightly around Dusk's thickly muscled neck, trying to hold the whining, yelping, barking beast back while watching; trying hard not to move or make a sound. But in her features, every blow to him was painful to her. Only six more... One more dug into his ribs, sending him to his knee as his dog howled wildly, but the men holding the chains drew him up to endure more of the attacks. He looked up, his eyes bright and defiant. Stop it... Stop this! Would the stone strike him instead, if he stepped in front of him? Then, unexpectedly, someone did just that. Dray stood before him, shielding him from the remaining stones, but Aetes regarded him, claiming several deep breaths into his razed body.

"Step aside, you fool!" he ordered, but his brother gave him little more than half a glance.

"I'd rather be a fool, than a mindless savage..." he breathed as Aetes forced himself up.

"Get back!" he yelled at him, but Dray stood.

"No." he refused, and then returned his attention to those looking on.

"This is how your prince is treated, for showing mercy! When has that become a crime?" he demanded from them, there were a couple of murmurs but nothing more.

"Those of you with young daughters who have not yet learnt to fight, go home and look at them. Would you willingly surrender her to the savageries of a Stoneholder?" he challenged, met with a heavy silence as they looked at each other. Crude as it was, that seemed to hit them hard in the vanquished expressions. This evil did not exist for their people, because the women knew how to defend themselves, even against the more brutish of their men.

"I lay claim to the remainder of his punishment, under the Stone god. Cast your five stones at me, and end this." he ordered, but he received only stares, perhaps unaware that the hunters had taken up positions behind him, forming a defensive line. No more stones were cast, however; and the prince was released from his restraints, slightly slumped and supported on the shoulders of his two brothers and his jewel at his side with the hunters protecting them, and his hound affectionately licking at his hands. He was battered, bruised and bloody. But Rychon found himself relieved that the torture was ended, and that he was alive as they took him home. As he'd stood watching, he couldn't imagine the agony the brutal stoning must have caused, and he endured it without grievance. He had heard the mention from one of those in the throng, that not many men would have remained standing, and ultimately this punishment was meant to kill in the end. But their prince was strong, everyone knew. Only, his brothers would sooner call him stubborn. At some point, after what seemed to be an extremely short walk into the night, he was delivered to a small chamber in the core of Sanctum where an old, weedy, bald man, draped in dark brown robes, inspected the wounds. Aetes grimaced painfully as the hands ran over the torn and ruined skin, but made no sound. A maester..? He looked up at the prince with a smile, his black eyes confident.

"I am very surprised, my prince. The injuries do not appear to be serious. Lesions and bruising, but nothing broken." he reported, and Aetes sighed.

"The benefits of my father's training, I suppose." he told as the man moved away, taking up a large pot with a white oily paste, then as gently as he could started on the angry bruise on the prince's shoulder when someone entered the room. The prince's jewel, with a wood plate in one hand stocked with a heel of bread, and two skewers of charred meat and onions, and a horn in the other.

"Prince Aetes." she presented herself casually, and he looked up to acknowledge her with a hidden smile. Then he glanced at the man at his side.

"Leave us, savant. I'll tend to these myself." he bid, and the old man quickly bowed his head, handing the tub to the prince before departing and closing the door behind him. She then approached him, setting the items on the table next to him as she studied him.

"My sweet, sweet prince. Look at what they've done to you..." she breathed, but he laughed, setting the pot on the surface and reaching for the horn.

"I'm fine. It will take more than that to break me." he assured, bringing the rim to his mouth and swallowing eagerly as she knelt at his side. She smiled, her hands resting on his knee, and Rychon took note. Her eyes were summer green, seeming almost unnatural against her sun drenched skin.

"A Stoneholder, indeed." she hailed him, and patiently waited as he hungrily wolfed down the food, having not eaten in two days. There was mention that their hound keeper told that the wounds to Dusk's muzzle will heal, but the left side of his pen was completely destroyed where he broke his way out. And the better thing to do for now might be to just let him roam the grounds freely until he could repair it adequately. Unexpectedly, the door swung open and the girl quickly stood and stepped back as the king stepped inside with a satisfied smile.

"So, you're alive." he said, sounding less than half surprised. Aetes stared back, unaffected.

"Was there ever any doubt, father?" he asked sardonically, but the king simply grinned, his single golden eye bright.

"No. You are King's Line, first-blood of Aecaeus. Doubting you would be foolish." then he glanced at the girl, seeming intrigued.

"A fifth-blood? Are you serving my son, girl?" he asked, and she looked down.

"Yes, majesty. I was a huntress of Granitemound before the prince took me." she told, and the king smirked as he examined her. He seemed to be pleased with her.

"Good. See that he has everything he needs." he instructed, and she nodded.

"Certainly, majesty." she agreed, and then he turned and left. Beyond the door, Leza the gold haired woman waited, staring at them for a moment before following the king. She, did not seem pleased. At all.

"He likes you. Perhaps, too much." Aetes noted as he glanced at her, seeing her smile.

"Oh, he'll like me a whole lot more once he learns." she hinted, and he had to laugh.

"There's no doubt of that." he agreed, and she drew a breath.

"Your mother was a fifth-blood as well, wasn't she?" she asked softly, and Aetes nodded.

"She was. But the rarest, called a 'true doe' for her blue eyes. You might remind him of her." he supposed, and then leaned back stretching the damaged muscles.

"He married my mother for love. Why he married this one... maybe it was to spite me." he told, and he looked up to see her stare at him. She's the king's wife...

"Why does she... I mean..." she started, uncertain of what to say but then he smiled.

"Why does she hate me?" he looked back at the open doorway, where the king and his queen had vanished moments ago.

"In the beginning, it was for the simple reason that I did not want her. I refused her temptations more than once, even after my father took her. Later..." he stared off into the distance,

"She blames me for the death of her sons. The three she lost before my sisters. She believes that I murdered them, so my brothers and I would keep our positions." then he laughed.

"The woman has become completely mad, over time. A tribute of her own line." he said, but there was a bitterness to his words.

"Did you?" she asked softly, and he looked back at her. She might have thought it possible, but the eyes regarding her was a mixture of shock, and disgust.

"While the first was still in her womb? The second had barely begun to enter this world, and the third had not seen his first moon? Can you imagine, what it..." he trailed off, hiding an almost revolted face from her, but then breathed and regained his composure. Was it the thought of her, or the children that sickens you so..? But no, it was the children that was a concept too hard for him to bear. He just didn't have that in him. The maltreatment of children...

"No, I didn't. And you know me better than that." he told, and she nodded.

"Of course I do. You would have adored them as much as your sisters, regardless." she agreed. He remained staring at the space in front of him, still seeming overwrought.

"I've seen horrible things on my patrols. Defenceless people killed simply because they crossed our borders without knowing. Women and children raped and murdered... Have you ever seen what it looks like when a babe of three years has his head crushed, because he's not a Stoneholder? When a girl of ten is ripped apart by one of our warriors?" His hand covered his mouth claiming a moment in the silence, he looked almost sick recalling those memories. Then he drew a deep breath, and released it slowly as she stared at him.

"My father doesn't care. Most of his hands don't care. And I can't stop all of it... But, I won't allow it in front of me." she approached him, and lay a hand on his back.

"People misjudge you. You will be a great king, like Aecaeus himself." she predicted, and he smirked.

"I'm not like him." he breathed, but she smiled.

"I think you are. I even imagine that you look a lot like him." she said, but he only nodded. He then emptied the horn, and replaced it on the table.

"What I need now, is a bath. And a decent bed." he decided, and she stepped forward taking his hand in hers.

"Do you need help?" she asked, and he pulled her down towards him.

"Only if you're the one giving it." he said, and then kissed her. Rychon turned, and left them behind as he made his way down to the hall and out into the courtyard, hoping he might find Addam. He'd decidedly seen enough. Falgon was some lost Stoneholder descendant, and what of it? Ancestry now gave him regal blood because all of these people had ties to an ancient king... It didn't change what he did. Then he stopped. Lost? Forgotten? From when? How, and why? And now suddenly you appear? From where? Drums in the distance drew his attention, and an almost full moon hung brightly in the sky. What now? He followed the sounds into the silver night, to a great field where he was met with a startling visage. On a small hill, loomed a shrine with a monstrous stone carving that would make lesser men tremble, and he was left awestruck in that moment. A dragon..? It didn't look like a dragon. It had a dragon's body, but the feet of a lion. Curved horns jutted out from what must have been a mane. And the frightening face, was that of a horse, but with long, vicious jagged teeth, and its deep terrifying eyes smouldered like cinders. In its chest, was set an enormous clear white crystal. Fires were lit all around it, and people were dancing and feasting in the clearings and tables arranged around it. What is this..? It was a merriment, a grand celebration which reminded him of the Horn Festival, but in a much different way. It was less refined... it was something completely feral. The king and his queen were present, the girl with the children and their dog playing nearby. Other women and youngsters were entertaining themselves, drinking, dancing or doing something at the tables as the drums sounded through the darkness. This... this is the eclipse they were talking of... then he looked up at the shrine, leering down at him. And that, is their Stone god... he realized, like it was slapped into him. He looked around at the people surrounding the shrine. Are they waiting for something? There were not as many people as he'd first thought, but then a series of chaotic loud whistles made someone scream, high and piercing as from the shadows came admittedly the most terrifying creatures he'd ever seen, alongside more, smaller ferocious beings. Behemoths with white faces and huge eyes, snarling as they come to devour the living. He reached for a sword or a dagger, only to find that he had none. What evils... But then as one of the titans passed him, he found that it was not any kind of fiend. They were people, and dogs. The king's warriors with their hounds garbed in masks made of numerous animal skulls, bears and wolves and lions with coloured lines or a hand print, and a number of other boned effects. Even the animals were decorated with dark smears and hand prints to match their masters. They joined the others with great displays, presenting their masks to the king and testing skills against others or circling the great shrine with blades flashing. A beast of crimson passed him, and then his heart stopped as from the shadows came the most daunting figure of all. A long bone pale face coloured in streaks of yellow, blue, red, purple and green with dagger sharp teeth. Curved horns curling from the great mane, he walked forward garbed in leather, a cloak of earth brown and a sword hilt behind his right shoulder. The god himself in human form had joined them... A base instinct to run tugged at him, but he stood drowned in wonder as the form approached the table where the king was seated. He took a place before them proudly, and then removed the sword from his back, the breath freezing over in Rychon's chest as he registered the face of the blade. The same face of the idol who wielded it, the same face of the Stone god. I know that sword... I know that sword! It was Summit. Crown of the Mountain. The mysterious warrior stood the sword next to him, the tip driven into the ground and then removed his face to reveal prince Aetes. His wounds had miraculously healed, although he was left with an additional scar or seven. He held the mask next to him, smiling while the burn of the flames danced in his eyes, and the king smiled back.

"Well done, my son. I should have expected nothing less from my strongest." the king praised, and Aetes bowed his head before replacing the sword and moving away to a table where his companions and brothers with their families and hounds, and jewel had settled in, laying the mask on the surface along with those of his brothers and the hunters as they marvelled at it. Rychon approached, examining the creation. Unlike the others who had chosen the heads of massive carnivorous beasts, he had chosen for himself that of a stallion, and attached to the skull was the hide of a lion's mane with two curved goat or ram's horns driven through it. The original teeth were removed, and sharpened canines driven into their place. How he'd done this was astounding, but he imagined that this thing must be immensely heavy to wear. Night dragged on, into a darkness that seemed endlessly long. It was a time of boundless revelry, drinking, feasting, wild displays, dancing to the vehement beating drums, and the ever present carnality when a couple vanished into the darkness every so often. Occasionally an argument could be heard, or a brief brawl would be put to an end. But overall, it was a delightful gathering, and he wondered if he'd see another Horn Festival himself. They were laughing and jesting and fooling around, in such a jovial time while the massive dogs mostly lay under the tables at their master's feet, chewing on thick cattle bones. Even the prince's jewel was engaged in an arm wrestling match with his youngest brother, giving him a good challenge as the others looked on, encouraging either of them. Aetes sat silently at his brothers side, and then gave his jewel a mischievous wink as he suddenly jammed a finger into his brother's low ribs, breaking both his concentration and strength and she slammed his hand down on the table surface, to the cheers of those around them. They offered her a horn of ale, but she declined and it was taken up by Dray instead. Rychon smiled, but stood feeling morose. He suddenly missed his family, and the happiness they shared, wondering if they would ever share something similar to this again. Somehow, I have to try to make things right... A sudden hollow silence fell over them, and Rychon looked up to see Aetes where he stood next to the table after an abrupt stagger, holding his cheek as everyone stared at him in shock. Then he looked up, eyes bright as his hand came away revealing a red gash. He was staring at someone who stood in front of the statue, a great big brute of a man, as tall as the prince himself, with twice his mass and a huge double bladed battle axe. Then he reached down and picked up a sharp pebble from the ground at his feet. He examined the little black stone for an instant, and then cast it at him hard, striking the wide brow and leaving a lesion of his own. The figure seemed dazed for half a heartbeat, but then as he regained his senses grinned, gripping his weapon as the prince took up his sword, rising the great red dog to his feet to follow, but a short series of clicks made him lie down on the dirt, just watching the prince with his glowing eyes. His jewel suddenly stood, latching onto his arm, anxiety clear in her eyes. This could not mean anything good.

"Aetes, that is Goran. The queen's own sword hand." she warned, but he shrugged.

"I know." then he moved away as the youngest brother affectionately lay his hands on her shoulders. The prince took position facing his opponent, laying the blade on his shoulder as Goran watched him.

"At your leisure, sire." he said politely, but the look on his face was all but amicable.

"You challenged me, Goran! So, come and test my steel!" he called him out, and the grin widened.

"As you wish, my prince." he agreed, and shot forward with amazing speed for someone that size. Rychon felt his nerves take light as he watched them, the big hulk of a man bringing the axe over his shoulder and swinging down hard; but in the blink of an eye Aetes brought his own blade up, catching the beard and then stepped forward binging the blade over his shoulder and the attack passed him. He adjusted his position and brought the sword in hard as he moved forward, the bright steel leaving a deep bleeding cut below Goran's right arm as he staggered away grunting in pain, and Aetes turned to face him. This was no test of skill, the blows were meant to kill.

"You're sluggish. And the king has you protecting his wife." he glanced at her, who was sitting next to his father with a scowl to her face, but smiled.

"Give me your best, or my third strike will leave you dead." he ordered, and his opponent grimaced.

"There will be no third strike." he answered in a low growl, and Aetes sighed again laying the blade over his shoulder.

"Show me then." he said, watching him intently, focusing on every move. With a roar he lunged forward hauling hard from his left side, and Aetes swung the sword down bringing it up with tremendous force and catching the axe, charging sparks as the steel kissed. His strength swept the blades up and over him, and once more as he stepped forward driving the sword in it left another deep cut to the ribs where blood gushed out. His wail was more frustration than pain. He's reading his movements exactly... When they were in the woods with his own training, Falgon had taught him to pay close attention to his adversaries, before, during and after any attacks, never letting anything escape him no matter how minute. Every person had a dominant side, certain marks and habits, and each movement they made indicated their intentions. If you could determine these you will see a pattern in their movements, and if you could react to that they will never best you. With time and practice the best warriors learn to lessen these traits, but they can never be completely eliminated. By finding these in his enemies, he will find their weaknesses, and the faster he could do this, the better he would be able to stand against them. This was a knowledge passed down through his people, and that was what the prince was doing. Suddenly Goran lunged forward again, wild and enraged with his axe held high. Aetes countered, striking the axe from his hands and a last time moved forward, bringing the sword around and through his opponent's back and out from his chest from where he stood, next to his shoulder. Blood flowed, muscles eased and granite grey eyes became vacant.

"Third strike, Goran. Give my respect to the Stone god, along with your soul." he graced and then pulled the sword free, allowing the hulk of a man to find his resting place on the red ground. He brought the sword up and swung down once hard, clearing the blade of blood before replacing it on his back, then bowed his head to the fighter and made his way to the table where the furious queen had rose to her feet angrily to stalk forward.

"You killed my guard!" she accused, but he scoffed.

"He challenged me to blood, I accepted." he replied, unaffected.

"You heinous savage!" she continued, and he turned towards her.

"If you wanted me dead, best not have asked a fourth-blood to do it." he said, and in a fit of fury she swung at him, but he caught her wrist harshly before she slapped him, glaring down at her.

"This is the last time, that you will ever raise your hand towards me! I don't care who you are, the next time, you will lose your hand." This was not the first time, and his words were not empty. Rychon flinched, he'd had enough of her attempts.

"You wouldn't dare!" she sneered, and he grinned back at her.

"Have I ever been known for weightless words?" he challenged her.

"I am your queen, Aetes!" she reminded him heatedly, her hand starting to darken.

"My mother was my queen. You are the woman who brought my sisters into this world, nothing more." he snapped back coldly. Her other hand came at him, balled into a fist as it slammed into his chest.

"You murdered my sons!" she yelled at him, and he grabbed hold of the fist, yanking her closer.

"Your sons were weak! There is no place among us for weakness." she stared at him in horror, eyes glinting.

"Yet had they lived, and they ever chose to rise against me, I would not spare them even for blood." he added, and the stains of tears glimmered in the firelights.

"You're a monster!" she screamed as she struggled against his hold.

"You've seen my mask." he released her and she stumbled back, glowering at him in the most hateful way. If her eyes had been daggers, he'd be torn to shreds, but he stood unmoved. He was powerful, and he knew it. She swept around and fled crying back to Sanctum as he watched her go, and then he looked at his father who had stood, then the king lowered his eyes with a sigh and shook his head. There was no rue for what he'd done, and then the king left after his wife with his own golden Glory loping along. The once happy air had turned sombre, and a hand found the prince's shoulder.

"That was cruel, Aetes. Markedly for you." he looked back at his youngest brother, standing at his side.

"Truth is cruel. Honeyed words won't annul it." he bit back, and then turned making his way back to the shrine where he picked up a black pebble from the base of the statue and returned to the corpse. He knelt, and placed the stone in the hand of the fallen warrior, closing the cold fingers around it.

"Goran was a strong warrior, had any one of his attacks connected with me he would have split me in half..." then he stood, his bright eyes still on his fallen kinsman.

"He deserved better." then he turned.

"Have him buried before sunrise." Rychon regarded him, recalling the words of the king. Aetes has gained the respect of every man in the Stoneholds because of his actions, and has never respected a man unless he has earned it from him... In spite of the last animosity, he respected the large man. He walked away, listening to the voices behind him, back into the shadows. Had I been wrong, about him..? They hated each other. Or, she hated him it was clear. No one spoke out against her in her wroth towards him, did they believe it too? That he'd murdered her sons? His half brothers? And yet, no one intervened when he'd encountered her, there in front of everyone. He might not go as far as to say that he hated her, not as much as he was visibly cold towards her, but he'd have no more of her onslaughts against him, and he made sure everyone would know that. Suddenly a memory surfaced, and his thoughts went back to the day that Berin confronted him in the Hollow about his daughter. He'd wanted to apologise to him then and there, but his position made things difficult. Unlike the queen, Berin was right and he had every right to be angry. But, he couldn't allow any kind of disrespect, or he would lose the support of his lords, and neither could the prince. Men did great and terrible things to win the honour of others, and to keep it they must needs continue doing these things... A violent gust of wind knocked him to his knees as a shattering roar shook the earth. What the..? He looked up into a red sky, the shadow of Sanctum haunting against the horizon. Is that dawn? No, it was the wrong direction. It struck him like a cold stone to the pit of his stomach when he identified three massive shadows gliding over the peak. Dragons... The light was not caused by sun, it was the blaze of fires. He shot up and ran, registering screams and fierce, frantic barking and snarling in the distance, the smell of searing flesh. And the song of steel. What he found, was a battleground as chaotic and harrowing as he'd ever been capable of imagining, people and dogs running and screaming as they burned. Again instinctively he felt around his waist for a sword or a dagger, or anything... but found nothing. Countless bodies were strewn everywhere, those not already fallen fighting on. He ran forward into the fray, searching. What is this? What's happening? Who are they? Soldiers were battling against the Stoneholders and their massive War Hounds, it seemed almost queer to see these smaller men against the tall warriors while the monsters floated above them, spitting fire at the world. One dragon, black and terrible as the deepest night and his flames dark as shadow. Another, green and gold and ferocious, blazes bright as morning light. The last, with light flashing off silver scales and fiery golden eyes. All bigger than those of the dragon queen. Someone passed him, and he recognised the golden hair of the queen with five men chasing after her. One grabbed onto her, and she turned sending her hand into his face and he fell hard to the ground. She wasn't a fighter, but she was strong. She turned to run again, but the remaining four overwhelmed her and pushed her struggling to the ground, pressing a blade to her throat as she screamed. One man was suddenly snatched away, screaming as a red beast started ripping him apart and a massive shadow materialized behind the others, cutting through the attackers and casting them away. She stared at him with wide eyes as he hauled her up.

"Where are the girls?" he demanded.

"I... I sent Shell to Sanctum with them." she did not bring her eyes away from the prince.

"Why... why did you do that?" she asked stunned, and he allowed her a small smile.

"For the love I bear my sisters, I will protect you if I can. But you have to go find them, and make for the caves, now." he looked up, screams coming from the shadows.

"Run. And no matter what, do not look back." he told, and she vanished from him as he turned and struck down two more attackers. He whistled, sharp and loud, and Dusk abandoned the torn corpse to come to his side. The battle continued as Rychon followed them, fighting into the thick of the battle where the king himself cut down a soldier with his massive black battle axe, and his gold War Hound removed the bowels of a wailing enemy. He looked up at the sky, the shadows still swirling above, circling them with fire. The defeat in his eyes was the clearest thing, he knew that this was a battle they would see no victory in. Then he took hold of his father's shoulder.

"We can't win this!" he called over the turmoil of screams, battlecries and the dance of blades. The king glowered at him, gripping the handle of the axe.

"I won't see my eldest son turn craven!" he shouted back defiantly, but Aetes stepped closer.

"I won't run! I will never run!" he refused, and then the king grinned.

"Good. Because if you do, you'd better run past the Wall, because I will find you." he told.

"This isn't about me, or your pride! This is about the preservation of our bloodline. Send the women and children into the caverns until it is safe." he ordered, but his father scoffed.

"You won't run; but you want others to? You're a greater fool than they are!" he quipped angrily, and suddenly the prince grabbed onto the neckline of the armour over his chest, hauling him closer.

"And when was it that you lost your sense?! Do you want to submit the twins to a death, here? Do you want to see that?" he challenged, and the king's sneer vanished.

"Do what you must. Perhaps, you may be a better king than I." he breathed, and then turned to slam the edge of his blade into a running man. Aetes turned, scanning the area around them, calling out a name into the endless wails, taking down two men as Dusk tore through another, and yet more and more came. There was no end to them... Moments later, his attention settled on a tall figure with a huge mace in his hand, freeing it from the skull of a fallen foe as his pale hound ripped a leg from another.

"Hale!" he turned and looked up, it was his youngest brother.

"These fuckers are swarming us like flies!" he complained as Aetes approached him.

"Take the girls, and as many women and children that will follow; head north through the woods on the cattle trail and make for the caves on the west shore. Stay there until I come for you." he ordered, but the youngster looked back defiant.

"I won't run!" he refused, and his brother knocked him against his head hard.

"Stop thinking like a boy, Hale!" the light amber eyes met those of his princely brother as he regained his footing.

"I want to fight-" he continued when a powerful hand latched onto his shoulder and jerked him closer.

"And you will! You must protect them, now. They are more important than glory in the field…" he told, and his eyes went back to the sky, at the shadows growing larger in the shrouded night.

"Whatever little there may be. Now go!" he commanded as he shoved him away, and he took flight towards the shadow of the peak. The prince sighed as he watched him, there was no anger in his face, and Rychon wondered what he was thinking. Maybe if he'd ever see his brother again? Without truly looking, he responded to a loud growl from his hound and cut down a form charging at him with a blade held high, and then turned to walk away when another tall mass hurried to his side.

"Aetes." she called to him, it was his jewel, with an axe held in her hands. He placed a hand to her back.

"Go with them." he told motioning to the shadow of Sanctum, and she stared dismally at him for half a heartbeat.

"I want to stay. I want to fight for our people." she argued, but he faced her fully while turning her around in the direction his brother had gone.

"Please. Please go with him. This is already lost; you have to protect us. Protect our future." he told, and then looked down laying his hand on her stomach.

"My precious jewel... Tell him… Tell him that he is the son of Aetes Rhinemar, King's Line and first-blood of Aecaeus. Tell him who we are, where we come from… Now go." with a heavy heart and tears in her eyes she left him there as he watched claiming a deep breath, and Rychon felt his own chest aching. So, that's how... That's how they survived. He sent them away at the last instant... Then the bright eyes came to the dog at his side, watching the field around them, and he sounded two high, piercing whistles. The dog looked at him, seeming to almost question him for a moment. But the same repetition made the hound turn, and bound away after Jewel. Then the prince turned away, and walked forward, sure and true through more soldiers; and he wondered. Was he afraid? He must have been terrified, these people have never seen dragons before, and was clearly outnumbered. But in him, he saw no fear. It was only the form of a man who was going to die, and he knew it, and he embraced it as he looked towards the sky where a shadow blackened out the stars.

"Aim for the wings! Bring them down!" he cried out, taking a fallen sword from the earth and hurling it into the sky, followed by hundreds of other objects. Arrows, spears, swords, even clubs and axes. If the creature could fly, it had wings, and it could fall. Some of the weapons cut through the soft wing sheets while most simply glanced off the hard scales, but whatever these did was not enough to cause sufficient damage, although they continued to try. Those remaining cast whatever weapon they could find at the massive dragons as they passed when not fighting against their invaders while the War Hounds continued to rip through the attackers on the ground, the blazing beasts gradually gliding lower and lower. Aetes cut down a foe, then seized the sword from his hand and looked up at the black dragon above him, throwing the sword hard as it opened its jaws for another dangerous breath. Black flames drenched the world, but the blade cut through, digging into the sensitive flesh between the teeth as the ground behind him burst into flames. The dragon roared in annoyance for the sting to his mouth, then brought his long tail down hard, lashing at his attacker, but the prince ducked away and the scaled whip missed him, crashing into a group of soldiers and sending them flying through the air themselves. Another dragon came down, lighting the world and for a moment he was blinded, lost in a white void, and he could feel the terrible heat to his skin. What happened? Where is everyone? When the stupor left him and the world returned, it was suddenly very different. All three dragons were landed on the ground, roaring and snarling at a group, pressed together by soldiers holding pikes, spears, poleaxes and shields. The Stoneholders, there might have been five hundred of them, seven hundred at most, yet all the dogs were dead, scattered recklessly over the grounds of battle. They were blood soaked and wounded, their weapons seized. Oh, no... The king and his eldest son, equally worn and soiled and without their weapons, were stood in front of the black dragon, surrounded by more soldiers while a figure dismounted from the monster's back, and approached them. The stranger armoured in a black scale hauberk was tall, broad-shouldered and had a powerful appearance, his striking purple eyes regarded the tall men, and light shimmered off short silver-gold hair. At his side he carried a bastard sword, made of clear Valyrian steel. On the others, were sat two women, both with long silver hair. The rider of the silver dragon wore hers loose and flowing down her back, while the other had hers braided and swirled at the nape of her neck; she was wearing black ringmail and another valyrian sword on her hip. Both of them had the same purple eyes, looking down from the beasts' backs. The foreigner smiled at them as he looked up. Rychon tried to move forward, but couldn't. He was rooted into place, with nowhere to go and as he looked down he saw Dray, the younger prince, dead at his feet, half burnt.

"I have never seen such ferocity in men. But, you have already lost. I suggest you bend the knee." the stranger told, but the stone king stood defiant.

"This is our land, our lives, our freedom! We will never surrender." he refused, and the dragon rider indicated the world around them.

"Look around you. Things don't have to be this way." he advised, and suddenly the woman on the big green dragon's voice flowed over them, her features stern and hard in the waning lights.

"Kneel to my brother, old man!" she commanded, and the dragon growled answering her voice with his own, but still the stone king defied them.

"I will not yield! As long as any Stoneholder still lives we will oppose you. Not a single one will accept your rule over us!" he declared loudly, to the stranger's annoyance. Someone approached him carefully from his side, an old knight with the red dragon of house Targaryen on his shield.

"Do not be rash, majesty. Leave these people to their lives, let them keep their lands. Make them your ally, they will be of great use to you." he advised, his words soft and slow, and again Rychon felt his chest quake and cease. It was Addam, speaking to Aegon the Dragon. And the women on the dragons, were his sister wives, Visenya and Rhaenys... This can't be... It's not real...

"He may be right, my love. Will you not consider it?" one of the women asked, she was more delicate, she seemed kinder. Aegon glanced at her for a moment, and then looked back at the stone king.

"I give you one final chance to bend your knee-" he started, yet again met with resistance.

"I'll bend my knee down your throat before I submit to some forsworn fool!" the king rejected, and the Targaryen looked down with a heavy sigh.

"So be it…" he accepted, then stepped away before the tall man was unceremoniously shoved forward. He stumbled, but did not fall, and when he looked up it was into the jaws of the great black beast as teeth long as bastard swords closed around him and removed him from this earth. Aetes stood watching, his eyes hard and hateful, but he made no sound. No movement. Then Aegon approached him in turn, with an expectant grin.

"The laws of succession dictate that upon the king's death, his eldest son takes his place. So, Stone king, what say you? You seem to be more sensible than the old man." he urged, but Aetes's eyes met his solidly, ever as wilful. Yield! Yield, you fool! Rychon wanted to yell at him, but silence was his breath. Surrender, Aetes!

"My father did not submit, neither will I." the new king refused, and the dragon rider's grin became an angry scowl. You fool... You great, big fool... He would not kneel to anyone, regardless of what he was faced with. Would not show any weakness, in spite of what it may cost them. But, at the very least his family was safe, and their line will endure. But then the purple eyes left him for just an instant, and the scowl transformed into a smirk.

"Not even at the cost of your people's lives?" he asked as a group of people was herded back from the shadows, several women and small children, the queen, her crying daughters and their watcher, the youngest prince hauled along and thrown down before his brother, arrows driven through his back, and his sword arm missing. But Jewel was not among them. She... did she escape..? Again, Rychon tried to move forward, but the earth held him in place, like his feet had solidified into the ground. I can't do anything... I can't do anything... The young prince looked up at the king.

"I... I'm sorry, Aetes... I... I tried..." he whispered as the striking eyes took him in.

"You did well, Hale. You did well..." he told him, bringing a weak smile to the face before a spear broke through his throat in a blast of bright blood. He gagged once as a surge of red escaped his lips, and then fell.

"Kneel!" the stranger commanded, but Aetes still stood, simply staring back at him.

"Let them go." he countered, unaffected.

"Kneel you idiot! Kneel!"Rychon yelled at him, his voice lost to the wind.

"You are testing my patience!" Aegon roared, and then from the shadows came another group of men, dragging a protesting woman with them, and Rychon's heart sank away, deeper into his stomach. It was the king's jewel... And on a spear carried by a laughing soldier was the severed head of the red War Hound, fangs still bared in a vicious snarl in his last attempt to protect her. At her sight he tried to force his way forward, but rough hands grabbed onto his arms and shoulders, even his legs to keep him in place as he called out her name. She looked up at him, her green eyes shimmering.

"Don't yield! Don't ever yield!" she called out to him, still struggling against the hands holding her. No, don't do this... The king managed a step forward, dragging some of the men with him as more came to subdue him.

"Release her!" he ordered as the silver haired man regarded her.

"We are Stoneholders, we are of the earth. We don't surrender. We live or we die, we don't serve." she told the stranger defiantly, and he laughed as he looked back at Aetes.

"She is just as stubborn than you are. If you don't yield, everyone will die." he warned him, the dark eyes taking him in.

"You had my answer, twice." he told, and Aegon released a heavy sigh before turning to his men, and nodding. It was all of the hells then as Rychon stood, rooted to the earth as two of the mighty dragons rising into the air, he beheld the stone king. Restrained by no less than seven soldiers, ropes, and even a horse, a series of savage blows to his calves forced him down on his knees where they held him. He was constrained to watch as their lands were set ablaze in dragon breath, and black flames engulfed his family, leaving nothing but charred bones and ashes. He saw their home demolished by balls of raging flame, great boulders thrown from talons and trebuchets; and all of his people were burned, devoured and slain. The shrine where their god kept his vigil was shattered, nothing remaining but bits of rubble and the single clear crystal that had started to glow. He was forced to endure as six men took turns holding down the woman in front of him, standing on her arms as they brutally raped her in every which way her broken body would allow, bludgeoning if she dared resist, all the while screaming for them to stop as he struggled forth, his feet leaving deep gouges in the earth. He yelled and cursed and screamed and threatened, but he never begged. Not once... and Rychon suddenly realized that the loudest voice was his own. I can't help him... I can't help him... I can't help him... It was the worst thing, to watch this man struggling and screaming. And he couldn't help him... the Conqueror returned to him then.

"Was all this, worth your stubbornness?" he asked, and Aetes looked up at him, the hate in his eyes as clear as the dragon flames themselves.

"I'll kill you... I'll kill you! I'll tear you limb from limb!" he yelled.

"So, not even the destruction of your entire kin, is enough to break you." Aegon sighed, then pulled a blade from his side while hauling the rent woman up from the ground and slit her throat, blood running down her neck and chest in rivers of red, and the soldiers released him, laughing at his plight. He made his way to her and took her up in his arms while she strained, and gasped and gagged.

"Ayla..." that was her name... Her blood soaked hands went to his face, staining his cheeks with red as her lips moved. There were no words, only sounds. He held her as she slipped away from him, taken by the shadow of death and then lay her softly down on the stained ground. His hands clenched, and his eyes went up to the man who had taken everything from him where he stood marvelling at the sword he now held in his hands.

"This is a magnificent sword. Had you chosen to wield it in my service, none of this would have come to pass." he told, and in a moment of blind and senseless rage the king charged at him, raising his fist but then Aegon turned swiftly, sending the Valyrian steel blade into his chest and out of his back, and Aetes stared at the hilt of his own sword protruding from his heart as all strength left him and the world disappeared as he fell. Rychon stood numb and motionless as he watched, dazed as every sense had left him. The soldiers started to move away, gathering fallen swords as they went, and already discussing on the grand celebration they would host for defeating this foe. His skin seared at the mention of a song, that might be called 'The Crumble of the Stone King', or 'The Shatter of the Stoneholders'; but Aegon turned heatedly to that.

"No mention of these people will ever be made! If any man ever so much as breathes the name Stoneholder, they will be put to death!" he called out. So, that's why no one knows them... Most surrendered the moment they saw Aegon the Conqueror's dragons, these people didn't. Many battles were put to an end before it truly started, this one wasn't. Never had he encountered a resistance like he did here, and despite desiring the strength these people would give him, this was a humiliation he did not care to spread. One of the soldiers glanced down at the sword still run through the Stone king.

"You want the sword, my lord?" he asked, and Aegon grinned.

"Leave it. I have a better crown for my throne." he said, taking up the great black steel battle axe from the soldier who had claimed it from the old king. Then he turned, and made his way back to his dragon where he mounted, and they took to the skies as the footsoldiers were left ambling away. Nothing was left but a flat, devastated landscape. Rychon dropped to his knees, his fists slamming into the earth, leaving cracks in the dirt.

"Why? Why?! By all the gods, why?" he cried.

"Why did you show me this?" he whimpered.

"Time cannot be altered. The past cannot be changed." he looked up at a small figure standing beside him, looking much like Addam.

"But, perhaps the future may be something different." he told, and then walked forward as Rychon's eyes followed him, and amidst the carnage four other figures were sauntering around, examining the corpses. One, finally stood over Aetes's body, the skin already a cold stony grey, before looking up and calling the others over.

"Are you sure of this one?" a tall form covered in black asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure. It will take time, but I can do it." he assured, and then the tallest turned away.

"See to it, then." he told, and made his departure while the three smaller men knelt next to him. What are you doing? They carefully removed the sword from his chest before laying it down next to him. Another came closer, the heavy brown cloak held in his hands as Addam stood and took it from him, then lay it down next to the sword as well.

"Stay with him." he breathed as he wandered off, and a while later returned with a glowing stone in his hands. The crystal that had once been in the heart of the Stone god's shrine.

"Thank you, brothers. You may leave me with him." he said, and they slowly vanished into the air while Addam sat down at Aetes's side, holding the stone in his hands. He breathed a heavy sigh, and then rubbed the stone to clean it, allowing its light to come through and then it started to float away as the glow increased to a bright shine, and it was just hovering above the dead body. The small man looked down.

"I'm so sorry, my boy. This was not supposed to happen. We knew the power of the Stoneholders, but a clash such as this was unforeseen." he told softly as Rychon watched, tiny flakes starting to break off the shining stone where it hung in the air, gradually forming a glittering ring around him. Then he looked at the woman, lying several feet away while the very ground was slowly devouring her, taking her into the earth, along with everything else.

"Your line was not meant to end in her… But it seems now that we have little choice lest one of the greatest threats come to pass." Addam continued, and then looked back at the body. There was a sadness in him, and he spoke tenderly as if to a weeping child.

"You've been through so much already, and now we must subject you to even more. But I chose you, for your strength, for your courage and for your resolve; for the strongest of the stone blood was yours." he explained as a withered finger ran along the still powerful form of a grey arm. The glowing stone, was starting to take on an odd, long shape...

"You will be bound by fate only, and there is one storm that may lay claim to you. I grant you one relief. I may protect your body, and you will not again fear death. But I may shield your heart for only so long…" he continued, and then looked up at the stone floating above him. It was a long, brightly burning shaft.

"This bloodshed will remain with you, hidden in the depths of your eyes. But time you will have, to learn tranquillity, and take heed of emotion, for it may betray you." he told him as the light lowered, and entered through the gaping wound in his chest with a loud sear, leaving the branded shape of a key.

"For now, you belong to the Breath of Winter." it was just a whisper in the wind as the eyes opened to the sky. He gasped and gagged and strained and writhed and choked and cried and breathed as he struggled and rolled over onto his stomach, his lungs desperately finding the air he'd been withheld of. And then finally looked up at the world around him that was a vacant stretch of endless flat lands, letting out a scream more frightening and mournful than a hundred thousand widows. There was nothing, but a wasteland bereft of life, but Rychon could see his eyes as he slowly stumbled to his feet, embers burning over a land that was now as lifeless as any ruined tomb. The man stood there for an unknown time, and the sky started to take up its sheen of sunrise and the brightness of his eyes slowly faded. Then he finally looked down, noting the items that had been next to him. Leaning down, he reclaimed his sword from the ground and the heavy brown cloak, which he held in his hands for a moment. Then he secured the cloak to his shoulders, and placed Summit on his back, then took one step forward, then another, and another and another as he walked towards the sunrise. Rychon started running after him.

"Wait!" he called, but the silhouette grew smaller and smaller and smaller into the shine of the red sun in spite of his frantic steps to find him. His hand reached forward.

"WAIT!" his foot caught on a stone and he fell forward into blackness, raising his hands for protection...

He slammed hard into the wood flooring of the lord's chamber, staring at the shapes and shadows that played around him as his body burnt uncontrollably under cold points left on his skin by sweat. The muscles trembled and contracted agonizingly, and every limb hurt. His hand went to his mouth to push back the sour bile that burned his throat, forced up by the raging dragon in his gut battling to claw his way out; and he tasted blood from biting into his cheek. His head throbbed like the beating of a war drum, his heart was racing a million leagues a moment, and he felt like crying. He hadn't cried since he left Mount Ardor for Pale Haven. It was a dream... It was just a dream, nothing more... he told himself, and then looked up at the open doors to the east to notice the rose blush of morning on the horizon. The visions came again, and the monster in his gut coiled and twisted and writhed for release as he reached for the chamberpot. It had to be a horrible dream... He retched, but there was nothing aside from the painful heaving. He'd never felt this sick in his life. All those people... All those people... Merciful gods, all those people... He heaved again, but nothing came and he gasped for air. Through the humming pound to his skull he heard the door open, and quick steps rushed to his side before blessedly cold hands lay on his back.

"Rychon! Rychon, what's wrong? What happened?" her high voice was completely terrified, neither he nor his father had ever fallen ill. He reached out, and took her arm.

"I'll... I'll be al right..." he assured, but his body contracted painfully again as a flash of black flames tore through his mind. All those people... he groaned, the angry beast still squirming around through his bowels.

"Water... Please... I need water..." she stood and hurried to the table, filling a tall goblet with spring water and brought it to him where with shaking hands he gulped down several mouthfuls, but the liquid was not welcome, and quickly rejected.

"Let me call the maester for you, please." she begged, her trembling hands soothing against his burning skin.

"Please!" he slumped down, lying on his back on the wood flooring forcing hard breaths into his chest while cool air lapped at him from the open doors.

"Please, Rychon!" then he saw her face staring down at him, perfect horror in her wide blue eyes. He reached up weakly, and she took his hand as he managed to smile.

"Don't... Don't worry... about me... I'll be fine..." he tried again, but the fangs of the monster cut through his stomach and he strained again. Her hand tightened around his.

"Please! Please, please, please! Let me call him!" she cried, and he drew a cold breath as deep as he could before releasing it.

"Al right... Send one of the girls..." he allowed, and she quickly kissed his fingers before standing and rushing for the door while he lay there in the freezing breeze with golden eyes glaring down at him, the heat gnawing at his senses. It wasn't real... It wasn't real... A sword through his abdomen made him amend that statement. Good gods... all those people... He turned, laying his stomach against the floor, trying to still the spinning walls of the chamber. He'd never gotten drunk before either, and instantly decided that he never wanted to. Why? He reached for the amulet hanging from his neck and brought it up to look at it. There was no glow to it, like had been in the dream... It was just the clear amber stone with dark streaks running through it. The Eye of Tier... To help me see the truth... The monster surged, and again the agonizing convulsions ripped through him. A little while later his mother returned and again knelt next to him, laying her hands on his back.

"He's coming, he'll be here soon." she told, and he nodded, focusing on his breathing. Then he felt her carefully lifting his arm.

"Come. Get back into bed." he struggled to his feet, but somehow with the support of his mother he fell down on the mattress, feeling like he was swimming in a nauseating maelstrom of hideous images while her hand rested on his scarred arm.

"Should I stay?" she asked softly, and he closed his eyes.

"There's no need..." he breathed, and she gently pet his arm before standing and started to turn.

"Send for Bella, please..." he said, and she glanced back at him in a moment of silence.

"Very well." then she was gone. He waited, for what seemed like hours in the crippling state, but knew it wasn't that long when the door opened and maester Gerdwyle quickly came to his side to examine him. He aimed to let his hand rest against the lord's brow, but then quickly discarded that thought. He wouldn't be able to determine a fever, even if he tried. So, instead, he took his own pendulum from his sleeve and continued with the remainder of the assessment.

"Might you have eaten anything strange, my lord?" he asked, suspecting poison.

"I haven't... eaten anything... in near to two days..." Rychon breathed, forcing himself to be still as the dragon continued to slither its way through his insides.

"When did this start?" the maester asked.

"This morning... when I woke..." he told, and the already skilled young hands ran over his shivering body.

"Tell me what you feel." Gerdwyle told, and Rychon claimed another deep, cool breath.

"Warm. Dizzy. Numb. Weak. Painful chest. It's hard to breathe..." After a few more moments, the maester stepped back.

"Your pulse is severely elevated, my lord. But I cannot determine anything else. Have you experienced any distress, recently?" he asked, and Rychon almost laughed. Do dreams count..?

"You know... of everything... that's happened... maester Gerdwyle." he reminded through his ragged breaths, and the young maester flushed sheepishly for an instant.

"Of course. Forgive me, my lord." his light eyes went over him again.

"I would attribute this to fatigue and anxiety, my lord. I will prepare the aids immediately, and bring them to you." he assured, then bowed his head and swiftly left. A flash of bright flame seared through his mind as the raging monster reared its head through his stomach once more, and he pressed a hand over his mouth to keep it inside. It was hard to comprehend even now, but the visions were so clear. Am I going mad..? He turned, hoping that a different position might appease the beast, and waited as winter air came streaming through the chamber, and just listened to the sounds outside. He could hear the faint, distant sounds of the smith hammering in the castle forge, it made him think of that terrible battle when blades clashed. Could still hear those people screaming... All those people... The door carefully opened, and silent footsteps came his way before a gentle pressure settled on the bed beside him, laying a hand on his trembling arm as she softly called to him, and he looked up into her deep green eyes.

"You called for me?" she asked, but regarded him feeling very concerned. He was pale as the waning wail of death, the scars to his shoulder and arm seeming so much more vivid against the pallid skin. But he forced a smile as he took her hand, the fingers quivering around hers.

"I just... needed to see you..." he breathed, his head not rising from the pillows.

"I needed to see you..." he repeated, and strained for a moment as she felt a clench over her heart. She'd never seen anyone like this.

"Al right, I'm here." she assured, bringing her free hand up and over his black hair, the strands cold and heavy from moisture. What is this..? She sat with him in silence, the shiver not fading away, and she was left wondering until the maester courteously made his appearance with a clay cup in one hand and a small bottle in the other. He stood for a moment with the items in his hands as he watched the couple, and then came forward and left them on the table next to the bed advising that the lord drink all of it as soon as he could, to get plenty of rest, and to try and eat something as well. But if the symptoms continued or became worse, to send for him or maester Adlyn again immediately, and then he bowed to them again and left. She looked at the items, steam rising off the liquid, and then moved slightly closer.

"Come, I'll help you." she urged, and he painfully forced himself up as she took the cup from the surface, taking in the sweet smell of strong passionflower tea. She brought the rim to his mouth, and watched as he swallowed, forcing the rich mixture into his stomach through tense gags. He coughed and gasped as the drained cup was returned to its place, groaning as his hand pressed down hard on his abdomen.

"Good. Just one more." she told, reaching for the slim bottle, shaking it well before removing the wax cap, and giving the mixture of pungent herbs in milk and honey to him, which he also gulped down as quickly as he could. He strained again, but seemed to settle a little bit then as she replaced the empty bottle on the table. He breathed, again and again, and then took her hand.

"Bella..." she looked at him, his blazing eyes searching her.

"Are you with child?" he suddenly asked, and she stared back speechless, completely unprepared for that question she blushed furiously. But then she forced the air in her chest to move.

"I... I don't know, Rychon... I don't know..." she stuttered, it had only been a couple of days. His arms went around her and he held her tightly, his warmth smothering her and leaving her quite breathless.

"If you are, you have to tell me, al right? You have to tell me immediately..." he whispered into the curve of her neck, shivering violently. Are you afraid..? Her arms circled him.

"I will..." she promised, feeling his heat rattle through her. He was fighting...

"Are you... worried? That I am?" she asked, but he remained silent as he held her, the quaking through his body nearly uncontrollable.

"I... I can always ask the maester for moon tea." his head shot up.

"No! If he ever gives you moon tea, I'll have him flung from his tower." he said solidly, but not angrily. That was not something, he would ever consider.

"I'm sorry... I just..." He claimed another deep breath, and pressed her tighter against him before releasing her and allowing cool air to reach her again. He covered his face with his hands as she stared at him.

"What happened? You're not like this..." she noted, followed by a strained silence before his hands lowered, his eyes fixed on the empty space in front of him.

"You... You won't believe me..." he muttered, and she moved an inch closer.

"I'll try." He sat in silence for a while, then brought his hand up, the fingers clenching around the amulet on his chest. Taking a deep, slow breath he started, and told her everything. From finding himself in the stone passage where the strange little man met him, until he fell into the dark pit, and she listened quietly. Only then his eyes met hers, desperately searching for something. He didn't want to believe it himself, but the verity of it was weighing on him heavily.

"I... I saw..." again his hand covered his mouth as he strained, fighting back at something.

"The destruction... of an entire race of people..." he muttered bitterly, and her hand came up to gently caress his cheek.

"It was just a dream. It was just a dream." she tried to reassure him, but he looked at her.

"Sane men don't dream of such things..." he said, and then his eyes went to the door.

"I have to see him. I have to go see him..." he forced himself up, but barely two steps away he sank to the floor groaning, clearly still distressed and she knelt next to him, her arms around his shoulders.

"You are in no condition to stand, let alone walk." she told him, and helped him sit up.

"Regain your strength first. He's still there, he's not going anywhere. And even if he could, he won't." she assured, and slowly he nodded. Carefully she helped him back to the bed where he lay down, and she resumed her place next to him.

"Try to sleep for a little bit, you..." she regarded him. He looked like the sole survivor of a war, less the battle wounds.

"You look exhausted." she decided, and he stared at her through more tense breaths.

"Will you... will you stay with me?" he asked softly, and she smiled running her fingers over his brow.

"Of course." without warning his arms coiled around her waist and pulled her closer, leaving her little choice but to lay at his side. He was still shivering, his breath warm against her breast, but she eased and placed her own arms around his shoulders, running her fingers tenderly over the skin to try and soothe him. She even sang to him softly, but it was a long time before the trembling stopped and he finally seemed to be sleeping. But all the while she thought of what he told her, and despite it being so unbelievably impossible, and whether it was a dream or not, he was so sincere she did believe him. To anyone else, he would sound entirely insane, but she believed him. She had never truly thought that Falgon was just a common man, and now... now he was a king. The door edged open, and the shades of a sky blue velvet dress appeared as she looked up into the blue eyes of his mother stepping in, who paused for an instant; and the breath froze in her chest.

"Aunt Claira..." it was a shameful thing, to discover a young lady in the bed of a lord, like some common whore. But with his arms securely around her waist, she had nowhere to go.

"I... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean-" she wanted to explain, to ensure that she had no intentions.

"It's al right." Claira calmed her as she softly made her way to the bed, and Bella blushed.

"I... I know it's disgraceful... to... to find me in the lord's bed..." she tried to continue, but the lady only smiled.

"As it happens, you're on the bed. Not in it. And you're fully clothed, besides." she dismissed it blessedly calmly, hinting at the warm smoke-grey dress Bella was wearing, and she breathed out relieved that she was so accepting.

"Please, don't tell my father." she asked, and the lady laughed softly.

"I won't. I can't tell anyone anything, right now." Then Claira sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, beneath the youngster's knees.

"How is he?" she asked, and Bella glanced down at the young lord. It's been some time that the shivering had stopped.

"He's been sleeping peacefully for a little while now." she told, thankful that he was now at peace. But what happened, what he saw, it must have been shocking.

"He... he had this horrible dream. It really frightened him." she told, maybe it would be too much to claim it was a true vision right now. Claira looked at her son, her hand softly running over his form across the silks.

"Rychon is strong, and brave like his father. He will do everything he can for us. He will protect us with his last breath..." she breathed softly, the soft smile still set on her gentle features.

"But, sometimes even the most powerful men need a safe place." she told, and Bella stared at her. There was a glimmer behind her light eyes.

"But... You're his mother." she put forth, and the blue eyes met hers.

"Mothers do their part for a little while, sweetling. Then, it's someone else's turn." she said, and then her free hand rested on Bella's knee.

"I am glad, that he chose you." Bella felt herself blushing again, severely grateful for the lady of their hold who was so understanding.

"Thank you... so much." she whispered, then Claira stood.

"I've asked that your servings be brought here as well." she announced, and then started for the door again.

"Lady Claira." she turned back.

"You shouldn't be made to stay here." Bella said softly, and Claira sighed with a subtle nod.

"In my heart, he will always be my baby boy. But to the world, he is the liege lord and his decisions are irreversible, even to me. While I might not always agree with them, I will respect them." she said, and spared another glance at Rychon, still silent where he was.

"Do you... do you know anything, about Falgon?" she asked very softly. Bella looked down, holding back the urge to tell her what had been shared with her, but discarding that and ensuring that the young lord was indeed still asleep, she looked back.

"He's al right. My mother stole down last night to see him, she said he's very calm." she reported, and the lady seemed to ease a little more then.

"Thank you, dear child." then she left them alone again in the quiet of the lord's chamber. Her absence will definitely be noted by her companions, and what in the world will she tell her father? If she stayed here the entire day, he would definitely be irked by that. She could always say that she was in lady Claira's service, the lady herself might even affirm that. She settled down, her arms around his shoulders again as she softly caressed the back of his neck with her fingertips, and giggled silently as she watched his skin rise to the touch in reflex. Even the most powerful men need a safe place... She smiled, placing her lips to his warm brow. I will protect you... I will keep you safe... she held him, humming the tune of Whispers of Elune, one of the many songsthat Falgon used to play for them, remembering those wonderful moments and wishing they may have them again. Moments later, she felt his arms tighten around her as he stirred, and she looked down into his eyes with a soft smile. He hadn't slept long, but he didn't seem so pale any more.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, and his left arm released her so his hand could softly rest against her cheek to pull her down into a kiss. Then he smiled as she drew back.

"Much. Thank you." she returned his smile, and then kissed him again. Slowly, he sat up running a hand down his face.

"I just... I still can't get it out of my head..." he breathed as she retook a more respectable position beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"Oh, my Rychon..." then he looked at her.

"I have to go see him. I have to know..." he insisted again, but her fingers curled around his arm.

"The maester told you to rest, and to eat something." she reminded him.

"But-" she placed her fingers over his mouth to silence him.

"No 'but's. You don't argue with our healers. It can wait." she told him firmly, and he looked away from her, down at the stone hanging from his neck as his hand clenched around it.

"It was real, Bella... It was real... I can't just ignore it." he continued, and she sighed.

"I'm not telling you to ignore it. Only, to go when you've recovered." she said, and finally he nodded. The door opened once again, and a young serving girl entered with a polite greeting and a large tray in her hands, which she brought to the bed where she set it down. She proceeded to gather the used goblets and pitcher along with other items to be returned to the kitchen, then politely curtsied before departing again. Together, they broke their fast on poached eggs, bread rolls, flamed sausages, some strips of cheese, figs and apple press. But for all his effort, he could not submit to any more than a sausage, half the bread roll and the press. Bella then gathered the plates to return them to the kitchen.

"Try to rest a little bit longer, al right? I have to head down and tend to some things, but I'll come by again later." she promised, and he slowly nodded.

"Thank you, Bella. For doing this for me. And, I'm sorry if I might have gotten you into trouble." he whispered, mindful that her father might not take kindly to this. But she regarded him, and for just a moment he seemed like a disappointed child. But she smiled and stepped closer, cupping his face in her palms and kissed him, his heat rising into her and stirring the butterflies in her stomach.

"I don't mind. I am yours, my lord." she reassured him, hoping she might bolster his confidence a little bit, and then he smiled back, resting his hands on hers.

"I wish you a good day, my lady." he returned, and then she left while he remained, staring at the silks over his knees. Despite the serene moments he stole in her arms, the images still continued to plague him. He could still see it all, hear it all, feel it all, and smell it all... The tea had appeased the dragon in his insides, but the food seemed to rouse him again, twisting and coiling through his gut. He fell back down, staring at the canopy of the bed, tracing the intricate lines carved into the wood. What am I supposed to do..? He closed his eyes, and again the black dragon was in front of him, its jaws agape while black flames licked between the long, vicious teeth, still stained with blood. The beast in his bowels stirred, and again his hand closed over his mouth to keep it in place. All those people... He looked at the doorway, open to the east where light crept in. If this was true... He belonged to her. He sat up. It wasn't true. It had to be just a dream... A dream that could sicken me so..? He forced himself to his feet, but the strength again left his legs and he found himself sprawled on the floor next to the bed, the angry dragon growling from the depths of his abdomen. Maybe I should go take a bath, first... Cumbersomely he hauled himself to his feet, and struggled to the dresser where he took fresh clothing, willing the creature squirming around inside of him to remain silent as he struggled his way down. Entering the lord's hall, he found his mother sitting on the divan with a book in her hands, but she immediately lay it down and came to his side to offer her help, the worry still clear in her eyes.

"Rychon?" he smiled, bringing his arm around her waist.

"I'm al right." he stood firm for now as he looked down at her.

"I'm al right. I'm sorry, for scaring you." he apologized, and she lay her cheek against his chest, her skin softly soothing against his.

"I'm going to take a bath, and then I'm heading down. I'm sure there's a lot of assignments waiting for me." he informed, and her arms went tighter around his waist.

"You really don't need to. The hold can wait." she too urged him. No, it can't wait... I'll lose my mind if I wait any longer...

"It was nothing. I'm fine now." he promised, and returned the pressure around her.

"Go ahead and rest. If you need anything, I'll have it sent up." he told her. She was still his mother after all, and he didn't want her to feel like a prisoner, but he couldn't absolve her. Not yet. Not until he knew... He leaned down to kiss her brow, and slowly made his way to the bath chamber where he discarded his clothing and stepped into the soothing waters, allowing it to seep into him and calm his still quivering body where he lingered under the warm rush for as long as he possibly could, and his mind went back to that terrible vision. The fires, the flash of steel in the light, the screaming, the dragons, the blade through his chest... and that poor, poor woman. His hands closed over his face to drive the sensation away, strangling the urge to scream at them again. To scream at them to stop. What would he do, if something like that ever, ever happened to his family? He saw it all, and yet he couldn't imagine it. He couldn't place any one of his loved ones in that same situation... but he was made to endure it. Then he heard the brush of the heavy curtain over the door, and his mother's voice before looking up. She was looking at him, once again clearly worried.

"Are you al right? You've been in here for hours." she mentioned, and he nodded. Time still seemed as irrational as it was in the dream. Moments felt like days, and hours was a single heartbeat...

"I'll be out soon, I'm just finishing up." he assured, bringing handfuls of water up to rinse his arms.

"Oh... al right." and then she was gone again, and he paused. Can I protect them..? Will I ever be strong enough..? He brought the water up to his face, feeling the drops running down his skin in small, crooked streams. Then he stepped from the waters to dry and dress himself, feeling better. I have to go see him... he departed the bath chamber, again finding his mother lying on the divan. She was spiritless here, but for now they would have to bear it.

"I'm heading down." he announced as he passed, and she stood. She might have wanted to ask him something, but bit back her words. Then he glanced at her as he reached the door.

"Do you need anything?" She stared back at him for a moment too long in silence, then shook her head. Your freedom, I suppose...

"I'll see you later, then." he slipped through the door, closing it behind him. The guards he'd assigned were still at their posts, ever watchful. But, it was something odd, not finding the tall sentinel there...

"Good afternoon, my lord." one greeted as he passed.

"Good day." he returned, and again paused for just an instant.

"Continue your watch, until I tell you otherwise. For her own safety, the lady is not allowed to step outside." he instructed, and they agreed. Then he moved down the passage, wondering how much had passed him by while he lay there in bed being useless. He'd missed sparring, and several court matters might require his attention, but seeing as it was so late those who came might return the next day. He felt grateful though, that aunt Milla would have taken up the household assignments in his mother's... absence. To his surprise, he found Berin in the Hall of Fire, on his way up the grand staircase.

"My lord." he greeted as he looked up, and then joined Rychon on the second level, some feet from the throne.

"The trial..." he started, and Rychon sighed.

"I haven't decided whether there will be a trial. But, recent considerations have let me believe, that a trial might not be the best option." he told, and Berin stared back at him appalled.

"You can't mean it..." he breathed, and then took a step closer.

"He has served your family well, Rychon. He has kept faith for years!" he pointed out.

"I know." Rychon regarded him, very calmly. The anger he had felt days ago, seemed to have been swallowed up by that terrible dragon heat.

"But if I give him a formal trial, and he is confronted with the charges in front of others, not only will it require a recount of his actions, but my mother's as well. And if anything, he will confess to all of it. I'm not willing to slander her that way." he explained, and he saw the hope leaving the green eyes looking back.

"Send him to the Wall, then." he suddenly proposed, and Rychon laughed.

"He will never agree to that, and you know it." he reminded, and suddenly a voice caught their attention. He looked back to see old maester Adlyn scuffling down the incline with Gerdwyle following wide-eyed, urgent and out of breath, and for just an instant he thought of Addam.

"My lord Rychon, I need to speak with you!" he called out gravely, and again Rychon bit back a heavy sigh. What is it now?

"Go to your tower, I'll find you there." he issued, and after a moment to catch his breath, the youngster helped him back up the passage, mumbling that he shouldn't exert himself that way. Then he looked back at Berin, still aghast.

"He deserves better, than an executioner's block." he insisted softly, and Rychon started to turn.

"I make no promises on this. But I might speak with you again, later." then he turned, and took the long passages, stairways and inclines, all the way back and up the winding steps to the maester's tower where he found them, Adlyn sitting on the small chair next to the hearth with the youngster next to him, still advising on how ill considered sprinting is at his frail age. Multiple old books and fragile scrolls were strewn over the surface of the table, Bella's little tome open on the corner.

"You needed to see me?" he announced his presence, and both men looked at him, startled.

"Yes, my lord. It's about Falgon." maester Adlyn said immediately, and Rycon sighed. Of course he knew. By now, everyone would know. Then he looked at Gerdwyle.

"Maester Gerdwyle, would you be so kind as to supply the hearth in my mother's bedchamber with some fire salts? It gets quite cold, now." he asked, recalling his thoughts from a few days prior, and rather wanting to discuss the imminent subject privately. He glanced back at maester Adlyn, then nodded and made his way over to a wide repository, reaching for a silver urn on the high shelf.

"How much, my lord?" he asked as he brought the vessel down.

"Just a pinch, enough to keep it burning for a few years. We'll add more if it is needed." he said, recalling the golden torch that burnt against the wall in their great hall. No one ever tended it, and he was eight years old before the white flames finally died out. It was known that fire salts kept flames burning for six years, and why that particular torch remained burning for two years longer many took for a herald of greatness. He didn't know if he agreed with them... The young maester transferred some of the granules into a small vial before replacing the urn, and then left the chamber. Rychon's attention went to maester Adlyn.

"What about him?" he asked.

"My lord, I strongly wish to advise you not to make a rash decision." the old man said as he came to his feet.

"Why would I spare him?" Rychon asked, attempting to sound stern.

"Because he is a Stoneholder. The last of them." his heart stopped for just that instant. How does he know..?

"Please listen to me. I have done searches. These people were tall, fierce warriors. Resistant to the effects of poisons, largely insusceptible to most illnesses, and as it's told, their ageing is generally very slow. Falgon has been here for nigh on two decades, he hasn't changed." he continued, and Rychon glanced down as his hand came to his face.

"If you have a point to make, then make it." he urged irately, and the maester brought his hands together in front of him, his deep brown eyes taking him in.

"More than that, Falgon has a brand on his chest. A brand that is not from any slavers city like we've believed. A piece specifically from the tome that lady Bella has brought to me, my enquiries to the Citadel and an in-depth study of our history led me to the realization that this brand is specifically associated with prophecies. It's ancient, and ultimately forgotten." he explained, and the young lord's eyes met his again, the vision of the brightly burning shaft coming back to him.

"You realize what you're saying?" he breathed, and the maester turned, making his way back to the table and taking the small tome and a nearly ruined book up in his hands.

"My lord, many lineages have been eliminated throughout history, most of them remembered at least. What are the odds of a single member of a forgotten race surviving?" he shook his head, and then turned, coming back with the items in his hands.

"The brand on his chest, it signifies fate. It is the strongest representation of it. It means to be bound to a single entity. Nothing else in the world will diverge it." he told, bringing the books and a parchment back to him.

"Your mother was known to the world as the Lady of Frost, and the men of your line, your father, as the Lord of Flame. Falgon, has always been associated with Stone. The prophecy words: 'The Breath of Winter will meld with Bright Fire, and Dead Stone. When Winter comes again, it is the Atronach that will stand in Flame and Snow.' You, my lord, are the first conclusion. What is left?" he presented the items to Rychon, who gingerly took them and examined the contents. The parchment had the words of the prophecy scribbled on it, the ruined book held a piece of what remained of the Stoneholders' memory, and the left page of the tome displayed a key. The same key he'd seen. A ring, with a long shaft, and five bit lines...

"Dead Stone..." Dead Stone... Dead Stone... it was real.

"The last surviving line of those people." he agreed, and Rychon felt the blood rush away from his face. It's not just that... It was so, unbelievably real... and he knew, but not all of it.

"He is..." he started, but then stopped himself. He would sound entirely crazed, even to their maester who might be old but as sound of mind as he was the day he started his studies.

"Exactly. He never ails, he hasn't grown old, he has survived a poisoning that should have killed a horse..." maester Adlyn agreed.

"Maester Adlyn, what is an Atronach?" he asked, and the elderly man stared back for a moment.

"It is an elemental entity, commonly depicted as a standing stone, my lord." he explained, and the bright blue eyes came to his again. It is real... all of it was real...

"Are you sure of this?"he asked, attempting to control himself. But the maester nodded.

"Positive, my lord. I have no other earthly explanation." he said, and Rychon looked back at the pages in front of him.

"That can't be..." he breathed, fighting the trembling in his fingers and the pace of his heart.

"My lord?" the maester regarded him, his eyes intent with concern and compassion. But it didn't matter how much he wanted to refuse to believe it even now when he knew it was a truth, no matter how utterly insane it must appear to anyone including himself, trying to ignore how things were, won't change it. Then he handed the items back to the maester.

"I must see him. I have to know." he insisted as he started to turn, but the maester stepped forward.

"My lord, please listen to me. He is not -" he started, but Rychon looked at him.

"None of that matters now. I must see him." he said, and then made his way down the stairs, towards the lord's wing. Suspicions and speculations... he needed to know. He needed to hear it, from him. But maybe still, that would not change it. He found maester Gerdwyle just stepping out of the lord's wing, and paused. Did she know of this? Perhaps, maester Adlyn would explain it better than he ever could.

"Maester Gerdwyle." the youngster looked up from the door, his light eyes still bright with uneasiness.

"I have forgotten. Please ask maester Adlyn if he would be so kind as to share his findings with my mother. I have something to tend to." he asked, and Gerdwyle bowed his head before proceeding on his way. Then his attention went to the guards, still keeping watch.

"You may leave." he told, and after a quick glance at each other they nodded and moved away. He drew a deep breath, and then entered the wing where Claira was still on the divan in front of the hearth. I hope you'll forgive me for this... He moved forward, and then claimed the great blade lying on the hearth shelf beneath their family arm.

"What are you doing?" she rose to her feet, suddenly alarmed.

"My judgement has been delayed, it is time that I concluded that." he replied, and then turned. She discarded the book, and rushed towards him.

"Please! Please, don't do this! Please, I beg of you." her cold hands rested on his shoulders as she stared up at him, tears starting to glint in her eyes.

"Please... Please, don't..." she begged, still blocking his way.

"Maester Adlyn will come see you soon." he told, and then as gently as he could, pushed his way past her. Her hand grabbed onto his.

"Please, Rychon!" he slipped from her, and she stood shivering behind him.

"PLEASE!" he stepped through the door, and made his way down through the castle, attempting desperately to control his thoughts. He had to know, but how would he even bring it up? His hand clenched around the woven grip of the sword. There was no place for doubt and weakness. Members of the hold stopped to watch him as he passed them, some curious but most shocked. They knew... He proceeded down the many steps, only to find the Order waiting in front of the door to the vaults. Berin looked up at him as the members formed two lines behind him, even Ormont was among them. He was still anxious, but seemed resolute as he faced him, and Rychon had to bite back a smirk. Apparently he'd talked the others into supporting him, to try and protect their brother. Then he glanced at the great sword in the lord's hand.

"I cannot simply allow this." he breathed softly.

"I will not be swayed, lord Berin." he said, and then looked at the others.

"Stand aside!" he ordered, but they remained where they were. Gavin looked at him.

"Lord Rychon, he has been the most loyal of your order. He has given-" he started, but was quickly silenced.

"I said, stand aside." Rychon again said, his voice low but the words so forceful that they moved. The only one that didn't, was Berin. He put a hand to his shoulder as he stepped forward.

"Many will hate you for this..." he whispered.

"I pray not." Rychon replied, and then moved past him. But as he stepped through the arch leading down, a hand wound around his wrist and he looked back at Berterin.

"Should I come with you?" he asked softly, and Rychon sighed.

"No. I have to do this on my own." he returned, and then moved down the long hallways, the many steps to the entrance of the vaults. He moved through, battling the many emotions that flooded him when he stepped into the dark light of their dungeons, finding Eidolon in the wide chamber, seated on a chair with his feet resting on the table, peeling an apple in his hands. He looked up, and then immediately came to his feet.

"Good day, my lord." he greeted, and Rychon moved forward.

"Good day. Stay here, I have no need of you right now. I will call you when I do." he told, and the jailer eased back down on the chair as Rychon passed him, going down the long passage, passing the cells. Some time later, he stopped in front of one of the last, isolated in the deepest reaches. There was silence inside, and no movement save for the light of the torch reflecting only off the stones. Should I use his name? He stood for a moment, but ultimately decided against it.

"Falgon." he watched as the great mass emerged out of the shadows like a ghost, regarding him calmly with his dark and striking eyes as he approached the bars. It was the same man.

"Sire..." he acknowledged him, and Rychon sighed. I... I know who you are... he fought against the sensations coursing through his core. I know who you are... The brand on his chest, was exactly the same as it had been then.

"You know what you're charged with, and its consequences. But, I will give you this opportunity to speak, as the last of the Stoneholders." perhaps, if he gave him this chance, he would tell him on his own. Perhaps he needed to hear it from him. He stared back in silence for a long moment, and Rychon noticed a vivid glint of red behind the eyes for the smallest instant before it vanished, and then he looked down from him.

"I won't give you honeyed words. Yes, it's true." he confessed, so calmly, so truthfully, so easily it was almost frustrating.

"Why?" Rychon asked, his hand tightening around the grip of the sword and Falgon simply shrugged.

"For the simplest reason there is. I love her. By the sun and the sea and everything in between. I have tried to deny it for years, but nothing will ever change the way things are." he told as Rychon stared at him. A sudden thought flashed through his mind.

"Show me your back." he instructed, and the sentinel turned, displaying his back to the young lord, who gasped in silence as he examined him. The dark marks left by the whip was gone, like they'd never been there. And next to his spine was a long, defined scar... the one left by the sword. The blade he now held in his hand. His free hand closed over his mouth as the dragon stirred once more. This can't be... It can't be real... But it was. The Stoneholder glanced back over his shoulder.

"I can recognise the sensation of pain, but I can't feel it. Not like others do…" he breathed, and Rychon stepped back.

"Tell me. Tell me everything, what happened, who you truly are… I want to know. You promised me, no honeyed words." he said, watching as Falgon turned again to face him.

"Everything?" Rychon nodded.

"Everything." he agreed, and Falgon sighed.

"That night, she asked me to bring maps of our eastern region. She had planned every battle, every defence from the confines of the lord's wing. She gave me instructions, and I carried them out. She was working so hard, and she missed you and your lord father terribly, so I advised her to take leave from those activities. I gave her two drops of Nightshade essence from my personal supply, it didn't have the effect that it was supposed to. She did fall asleep against my shoulder, and rather than wake her I delivered her to her bedchamber... She asked me to stay with her, and I obeyed. Torn in the rifts of exhaustion, sleep and loneliness she saw me for your father..." he explained, and Rycon looked down, bringing the sour air into his chest.

"You made love to her..." he breathed, and Falgon nodded.

"I did." he confessed, but his eyes never left him.

"Whatever you believe, I had no ill intent. Stupidity is the base of humanity, Rychon. If we don't make stupid decisions, stupid mistakes; we're not human. I've seen three hundred and forty one years of them, and still make them every day. The things I don't count among them though, is my service to your house, and that night." he went on to tell. It was real. It was true. He does love her, and was willing to suffer this for the truth of that. Then Rychon looked up at him again.

"Who are you, really?" You promised me... No honeyed words... A moment of silence followed, and then he glanced away.

"I was born in the west, in a stronghold called Sanctum on a small little expanse between where the Westerlands and the Reach is now. I was first-born to king Eurlond of the Stoneholds. Then, my name was Aetes Rhinemar of the Stoneholders." he told, and Rychon's heart stopped. No honeyed words...

"But the Stoneholders…" he started, but the words died in his mouth.

"We fought against Aegon the Conqueror in war. Aegon won." Falgon explained, and then looked back at him.

"The Stoneholders were stubborn people, because we would not submit to a foreign ruler, all were put to the sword. I watched my homeland be destroyed, my people slaughtered… the woman I loved had her throat opened in front of my eyes, and I couldn't do anything to stop it so she died in my arms. In my blindness, in my rage and stupidity, I was killed when Aegon struck my own sword through my chest." he explained, and Rychon moved back, sitting down on a bench against the wall on the other side, completely numb. No honeyed words... It was all true. All of it. But for a long while he couldn't do anything, couldn't feel anything. Then he finally found his voice, although it was little more than a whisper.

"Why did it take you this long to tell anyone?" he asked, and oddly he saw the sentinel smile.

"Do you think anyone would have believed me? That I was a dead king, of a dead race?" he asked, amused for how something like that would sound to any other man. Then he shook his head.

"I didn't want to think about it. Every happiness I had forgotten, I could relive here. I didn't want to break that feeling that had come back to me. Didn't want to shatter the dream." he told, and then sighed again as he looked down the passage.

"Something brought me back, I don't know who or why. But I've been searching ever since. I even left these lands to find some kind of purpose... My search ended, when I found your mother." he told, and then looked back.

"That night, she asked for a tale of one of my many adventures; I never got to finish it. It may be best that I do so now. Many years ago, in our failed pursuit of escaped captives on Sothoryos, the last of my companions and I wandered into a ruined city. There was nothing but destruction and decay, and it finally claimed the lives of the last two in my company. It had seemed that death evaded me, though. Finally, I entered a great stone hall, where I found a shrivelled little man with eyes white as fog." he smiled then softly, like he was recalling that memory.

"He told me that I was not meant to be there. That I was to return to the land of my birth... That there I would find my true purpose. That I belonged to The Breath of Winter, and that 'the storm before the long night alone will claim me back to the earth'." he shook his head, perhaps shunning the thoughts.

"I never knew what he meant, I still don't. But I came back nonetheless, wandering the extent of this land wielding my sword in service of others, until the moment I saw her. Those many years ago, something told me I found my place. I knew that it was her. Your mother is the Breath of Winter." Rychon stared at the stones in front of him, focusing on the air in his chest. It felt hard.

"Why you?" he mumbled, but he already did know the answer to that...

"Indeed, why me? Why anyone? Why at all? Would it not have been easier, simpler to let us live our lives the way we chose to? But for so many things, we are not allowed a choice..." he breathed. He didn't choose this, he never wanted it. But it was the path he was given, and he dealt with it, just as much as he had to manage his own. Time cannot be altered, the past cannot be changed...

"Was it in your power, Rychon; would you have chosen anyone else, besides your own father?" he heard the deep voice, suddenly realizing. He was taken from them without so much as a word from anyone, and if he was alive he would have come back to them long ago. After these many years, still hoping for him to return seemed almost meaningless. Perhaps, the future may be something different...

"No." he breathed, and then looked up again. He hadn't moved from where he stood.

"If what you say is true, then that would make you a lord now…" he mentioned, but Falgon laughed softly at that.

"That is who I was, not who I am. I won't take back a long dead title, simply to have the benefits it offers. Your father took me into his service as a sell sword, I came to love your mother as a commoner, and she cared for me in the same way even though I had no name to give her." then he took a single step back.

"And now you are the liege of Mount Ardor. You've known me since you were old enough to know anyone, and you'll make the decision you deem best or just. I will not ask for your forgiveness, not because I don't deserve it, but because I don't regret what happened. Only its circumstances. If I could give you a copper for every time someone has tried to end me, you'd be richer than the Lannisters. But, I will face whatever fate you have for me, without resistance." Rychon stood, and took up the sword Summit in his hand with a subtle grin.

"We are richer than the Lannisters, we just don't make a big point of it." he mentioned casually, and then looked up the passageway to see the jailer in the dim light of the distance, watching them as he waited to be called in the instance he was needed. Nothing would be changed, it couldn't. This was how it was meant to be. Death itself couldn't change it, who was he to think that he could?

"There will be no trial. Not for you." he announced, and then his voice travelled down the passage.

"Open the cell!" Eidolon came quickly down the narrow hallway, keys ringing in the shadows. Then he joined them, sliding the large key into the lock and hauling the bolt back so the gate swung open, and Rychon stepped inside, the blade in his hand, facing the tall warrior evenly.

"If you want your fate, here it is: Kneel!" he ordered, and the man in front of him knelt, without so much of a word. You refused to kneel to Aegon the Conqueror... but you do so to me this freely? Why..? Because he had changed, and it didn't really matter now. He brought the sword forward, and lay the cold blade on his bare shoulder.

"In the name of destiny, I Rychon of the house Taugere, lord of Mount Ardor and liege of the Corridor, sentence you to serve out your existence by my mother's side." he declared, and the dark eyes came up to meet his as he smiled.

"You have always been there, you watched over her. You are sword, shield, stone. You belong at her side as her protector, her comforter, her friend. You belong to her, in ways that no one has ever belonged to anyone, not even a slave to a master. Stand." he came to his feet as Rychon brought the sword back, standing it on the stones beside him and glancing at the face of the blade with a soft sigh.

"You said that death will not claim you until your task is complete, so if I will not be able to end your 'existence', then there's no point in me trying to. And I will not contest the binds of a prophecy." he told, resting his hand on the pommel of the sword, and watched as Falgon's hand slowly came up, his fingers curling around the grip to reclaim his blade. Then he brought his own hand away.

"Tend to yourself, and then go to her. Now." then he looked down, accepting the path fate had brought down upon them.

"That's where you belong..." yet another moment of silence followed as the tall king stared at him, then bowed his head and stepped past him to carry out his order while Rychon followed him back up the passage to the jailer's chamber. There he reclaimed the clothing and items that had been seized from him, while the jailer stood next to Rychon, seeming both disappointed and confused.

"My lord?" then he looked at him, calmly.

"He is free to go. Make sure that all his items are returned." he instructed, and then left them to finish their business. This is how it should be... nothing else matters... it can't be changed... the light of the hall spilled over him, along with the deep green stare of the head of their order with their members behind him, pale as the face of the full moon. He regarded him, taking note of the absent great sword.

"What happened?" he stepped forward.

"What did you do?" but Rychon smiled at him.

"You'll see." his attention went to the others.

"You are all dismissed. Return to your duties." then he moved past them.

"If you'll please excuse me, I'm tired..." he returned up the halls, but did not make it as far as the lord's wing. Instead, he took his seat at the head of the great table in the Hollow, staring out the window at the deepening purple sky, reflecting on everything. I won't give you honeyed words... I love her... She asked me to stay with her... Stupidity is the base of humanity... my service to your house, and that night... My name was Aetes Rhinemar... We fought against Aegon the Conqueror in war, Aegon won... I watched my homeland be destroyed, my people slaughtered, the woman I loved had her throat opened in front of my eyes... I was killed when Aegon struck my own sword through my chest... Something brought me back... my search ended when I found your mother... I belong to the Breath of Winter... He drew a deep, cold breath. His is not yours to end... A shield is needed... The Breath of Winter will meld with Bright Fire and Dead Stone... And when Winter comes again, it is the Atronach that will stand in Flames and Snow... But, thinking about it was pointless, it didn't make any sense to him. What shield? If he was the conclusion of the first, what would the second be? Would that extinct king's line continue in her, when she could not conceive for years? They've seen marvellous, monstrous, and miraculous things. Perhaps the future, may be something better... And only the future would give him any answers. He could see stars in the sky, the first lights in their night sky. Then another presence joined his in the Hollow, and he looked up to seen Berin in front of the table, more at ease than before and noticeably less waxen.

"You... You let him go?" he breathed, mixtures of happiness, confusion and even shock in his voice. Rychon slowly nodded as he drew a deep breath, and then sentinel moved forward to claim the seat next to him, unable to hide a faint smile.

"Forgive me... Please don't misunderstand, I am relieved that you did. But..." he chose his words, it seemed.

"What made you change your mind?" he finally asked, and Rychon looked away from him.

"He doesn't belong to me." he concluded, but could feel the eyes staring at him, waiting for more. Then he met them, allowing a nervous chuckle.

"You won't believe me." he tried, but Berin leaned slightly forward, indicating that he had his full attention.

"With everything I have seen, I'm willing to stretch my faith a bit." he urged, and Rychon sat back. He proceeded to tell him everything he could, without sounding like a complete lunatic, which he still did to himself. And secretly, he hoped that he would not have a dire need to repeat it, as long as he accepted it. But in the end, Berin slowly looked away from him, staring at the surface of the table in front of him. He didn't seem to be shocked, although ponderous. Maybe he does think me mad... Then he looked back.

"How did you find out?" he asked calmly, and Rychon's thoughts went to the stone around his neck. I saw it... I saw all of it...

"He told me." he breathed, and Berin nodded.

"Amazing..." was the only word he could muster under his breath, and Rychon laughed.

"It is. As much as it is unbelievable. So, for the sake of peace and sanity, I would appreciate it if this is kept to ourselves. Others will not be as understanding." he mentioned, and Berin nodded again.

"Of course." then he stood, and turned towards him.

"Is there anything you need, my lord?" he asked, and Rychon sighed.

"No. Enjoy the remainder of your evening, lord Berin." he allowed and then Berin left to meet the rest of their night, every word whirling in his mind. He'd always known he was different, but had never imagined anything close to this. He wondered if he could tell Milla. She cared about him, she would understand. The rest, they would manage as it came. He met his daughter on the way down, and she looked up at him.

"Dadda, supper will be served soon." she announced, and he smiled.

"Thank you, my sweet." then he placed an arm around her and held her for a moment.

"Have... have you seen Rychon?" she asked softly, and he pulled back.

"He's in the Hollow." he replied, and she returned the pressure around his waist.

"Thank you. I'll see you again later." she said, and they parted ways, but a moment later he looked back at her.

"Bella." she turned, followed by a moment of silence, and he sighed.

"I want you back in your room by midnight." he told, and she smiled happily.

"Al right. I promise." then she continued on her way up while he made his way to their southern hall. If she wanted to be with him, he could not keep them apart. If it was what made her happy, he would not deny her that. If death itself could not stand in the way of love in the end if it was designed by fate, who was he to think that he could? Truth be told, there was no one he would rather want for her. Although, he would much sooner prefer that they were married. Their members assembled in the southern hall where they supped on warm mutton pies, berry cobbler and cream with mead and press, in a blessedly lighter air about them despite several missing faces. Multiple various discussions could be heard throughout the space, while Berterin and Ormont entertained the young ladies just down the table where they were seated. It was an easy, joyful night. Late, after the hall was cleared and everyone on their way to their beds, they entered their own where Milla joined him after her bath.

"Thank you, Berin. For trying so hard. I am happy, you were able to change his mind." she said, and he smirked.

"I didn't. He made the decision on his own." he said, and she stared at him for a moment.

"We've discovered some… interesting things, about Falgon." he told, and she smiled then.

"I always knew he wasn't a commoner." she immediately affirmed, and he stepped closer.

"No. No, he wasn't a commoner. But he wasn't just any high-born, either." again, that look of confusion flashed behind her beautiful green eyes.

"He was a king." he revealed, and the look altered between shock and wonder and awe.

"A king…" she repeated softly, and he nodded.

"The last of the Stone kings." her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in a state of daze and perplexity, and he could almost see every thought behind the eyes.

"I… I don't understand…" she was trying hard, though. Then he looked down, taking her hands in his and leading her to the bed to sit down next to him.

"It's difficult to explain." but he did, as well as he could. Their young lord believed the Stone king, when the circumstances were all but rational. The sentinel believed the young lord, when he thought he would sound completely robbed of his senses. She would believe him when no one else would. Fate had given them these roads to follow, and while they were not the same, they would walk them together as a family, into whatever future fate had designed for them. Whether they were faced with fields of flame, or storms of frost.