authorsnote: probably one of the most complex chapters I've ever written? hence the word count.
enjoy.
minor updates: 16/05/2022, you'll see this on all previous chapters now, the updates are: minor grammar/spelling fixes, adding my song recs to reflect GOT soundtrack songs (much nicer), and then a quote before each chapter I found interesting and inspiring to the chapter, enjoy!
(also can we agree all of the GOT OST's are good, but omg Season 6 slaps)
songrecs: Winter Has Come - GOT Season Season 6
'The battle screamed about Lord Robert and Prince Rhaegar both, and by the will of the gods, or by chance-or perhaps by design-they met amidst the shallows of the ford. The two knights fought valiantly upon their destriers, according to all accounts. For despite his crimes, Prince Rhaegar was no coward'
—writings of Yandel
-x-
By the next morning they were off again.
This was life on the road, stopping and starting, hurrying, and slowing, camping and then back in the saddle. The repetitive plod forward, the miles and miles of road behind them but more appearing ahead, and for the next week that was how it went.
On and off his horse, dinner by the tent, Robb called off to eat with his namesake, Jory sat next to him silent, the Northern men growing increasingly annoyed and alerted the further down South they went.
The stop at Greywater Watch had almost seemed like the last safe place, the last place they could call the North and not have to constantly look over their shoulders, but now? Now they were in enemy territory, without the might of the North at their backs.
And Jon felt it more keenly than anyone.
He felt it as they passed Riverland towns, as they made their way through the Twins, the grouchy Lord Frey glaring at everyone, even the King, he felt it as they made their way through Riverland countryside, stopping more on the side of the road than they did in keeps as it was easier, he felt it as the Southerners even picked up the pace, eager to get home.
And yet it wasn't his home, it was heading into the heart of enemy territory. He'd been on his guard from the second they left Greywater Watch and knew he wouldn't, couldn't let that drop until he reached home again.
The only good distraction was the book.
He poured over all of his stats, memorising each ability, and what he should focus on, he went back over all the PERKS and all of the wording of them, frowning at each cryptic:
'You understand that sometimes what is to come is more important than what is happening in the present. The future is where decisions lie. Just remember thinking too far ahead may have you missing the events passing you by right now!'
'You know that law does bring order, but it can also bring injustice. You do not see yourself as bound by the laws of men, but by the laws of your own morality. This is admirable but will get you into trouble no doubt!'
Nothing was plain in this world, nothing clear and spelled out, but then, he had known that before he'd ever gotten his hands on the book.
He looked over his relationships, his allies (ignored the romance section, he did not want to unpick that yet, nor felt ready too), looked over everything to do with Ghost and his warging abilities, even took the time to look through all of the bonuses again, to remember everything they gave him.
This book was his asset, it was part of what would keep him safe down South, would see him home again, he was sure of it, and sure he could only benefit from learning it further.
He poured over the Map of the North, and the limited map of the South. It seemed his abilities regarding to maps (where his knowledge was limited), actually effected the physical maps he could see at the back, he knew if he took a regular map, it wouldn't be as so, but the maps in the book only sketched out areas he knew, rivers he'd encountered, roads he had seen, or knew of, leaving them partial or in some cases blank.
Each time he passed a new place, committed it to memory it would fill in, but only those he paid attention to, it was like a mapmaker was walking beside him sketching out his approximation of the surrounding areas, but at times he'd lapsed, and the mapmaker had, had nothing to draw.
And yet, his abilities in that area changed, apparently the book didn't alert him to this, only he saw a steady increase,
The North (Map): +15 = 70
The South (Map): +5 = 25.
He had more to learn of course, and he knew with learning the areas he'd learn the Weirwood spots and Valyrian steel spots as he'd been tasked and be stronger for it. He imagined with this book and the future to come he'd be seeing all kinds of places around Westeros that he had never seen before and learning those areas could only help him.
On the 8th night they'd stopped, and he looked through the quest that had popped up regarding Weirwood spots the night before, following the quest he'd received just before Greywater Watch:
Quest Alert!
A Prayer in the South
Find the hidden Weirwood none could burn in the Capitol.
Reward: Weirwood healing available in the Capitol, +5 Map of the South, +5 History Knowledge, +1 PER, +200XP.
Failure: The Weirwood and its healing remain lost to you. -1 PER, -1 INT.
The second seemed harder, and somehow easier all at once, that when reading through both had given him far too big a headache.
Quest Alert!
Eyes That Can See
Map out the Weirwood Trees of Westeros.
Reward: More healing spots available, less of a toll will be taken with each heal, +5 to each Map skill, +2 PER, and a hidden benefit only revealed upon completion!
Failure: All Weirwood healing is now stopped, -2 PER.
This is an active quest; active quests are ongoing and do not have to be selected, thus they are hard to fail. Failure will only be determined if the quest becomes impossible to achieve.
More cryptic notions from the book but the quest had offered too bountiful rewards to be annoyed.
And so, his journey through the Riverlands was positively dull, looking through maps, completing daily quests, and training. He had hoped to have some time to warg, but he had never been willing to risk it in the tent alone, worried Robb or Jory, or another Northern would interrupt him. He had tried once when they'd stopped and had disappeared into the trees but had almost been caught by a hunting party.
He needed privacy to be able to practice that, and a few of the quests were unachievable too for that reason (that, and most nights he was bone tired from travel and the rigorous training regime every time they stopped, he refused to give up).
He had managed to complete four quests:
Quest Complete!
A Fish for Me and You
Join the Southerners in fishing for your dinner.
Reward: Fishing Skill Unlocked, +10 Fishing, +50XP.
XP: 700/2500
-x-
Quest Complete!
A Quick Study
Spar with a Northern Soldier using only a Greatsword.
Reward: +5 Greatsword Skill, +50XP.
XP: 750/2500
-x-
Quest Complete!
As Swift as a Wolf
Take Ghost and Greywind for a run, and keep up! (and bring Robb too!).
Reward: +5 Relationship with Ghost, +5 Relationship with Greywind, +50XP.
XP: 800/2500
-x-
Quest Complete!
Nimble Footed, Quick Witted
Beat three Southerners in swordplay, one after the other.
Reward: +10 Combat, Sword, 100XP.
XP: 900/2500
Less progress than he would have liked but he had mainly been pleased to just complete and pass them all, especially the last which had been close run (in fact both combat quests had been battering, and tiring, he was just thankful the second hadn't required him to win, as the one Northern soldier he'd persuaded to spar with him had quite quickly kicked his ass).
He was getting ever closer to Level 5, which he knew came with great rewards, it was a goal in site, and one he still intended to achieve before he reached Kings Landing, after all, he'd need everything he could get to survive that godforsaken City.
The 9th day passed, and the 10th, and then he saw it… well from a distance.
They had veered off a damaged part of the Kingsroad under repairs (momentarily), and so had gone past (though not close), a few places they wouldn't have seen, including what Jon saw as the party came to a stop, all pausing even though it was only the afternoon.
Oldstones.
It was a crumbling wreck, and yet impressive all the same. Jon felt something stir in his gut as he looked at it, and then in his chest, as though it was evoking something in him, drawing him closer, and closer.
He knew the book would glow, but it seemed to wait, so he could take it all in.
It sat on a hill, peeked out to their view, and was completely overgrown, crumbling piles of rock and stone barely held together, cracked, wild roses, blackberries, and more creeping over them. He wished he could get closer, for his view was dim, obscured by many of the trees that had sprung up.
It was truly a ruin, abandoned, Jon knew the story as well as anyone, and yet it seemed to have some sort of life, something in its bones that refused to go, not dead yet.
Perhaps like himself.
Ever since he'd come back he'd felt that attached – of course he'd always known he'd die, everyone ended up in the same place after all; the ground, but had never attached that, ever since he'd come back he had, not dead it had once been, now it was not dead yet.
"Wow" He heard Robb next to him, bringing his attention back, and knew Robb felt it too, this odd aura around the ruin that was inexplainable, and yet had captured them all, hence the grinding halt the party had come too, underneath the midday sun, uncaring that they had progress to make, still for a moment, and silent.
Looking at Oldstones made him think of night though, of a mist swirling over the place, preserving it perhaps, even though it continued to take to ruin. Would it be there in 10, 20 years? Jon didn't know, but he knew, even before the words appeared overhead, he knew he'd one day see it closer, even step inside it for himself, and he knew he would need not remember to have it marked on the map, he imagined it was already there.
Quest Alert!
Jenny of Oldstones.
Go to Oldstones and learn its secrets.
Reward: ?
Failure: The secrets remain hidden to you, and more.
This is an active quest; active quests are ongoing and do not have to be selected, thus they are hard to fail. Failure will only be determined if the quest becomes impossible to achieve.
Completely cryptic of course, and yet he wasn't surprised, nor deterred.
Jon knew little was certain in life, even with his return he knew he could die at any time and maybe not come back. Life changed, twisted, and turned without warning, and he knew it might again even on this journey, sooner or later, nothing was set, nothing was bound.
And yet, he felt that going to Oldstones was, he had no rational explanation for it, none at all, and yet even as someone called to move on, even as Robb nudged him and they trotted away, Jon knew he'd return.
It wasn't like his desire to return to the North or Winterfell, which ached in his stomach and called him home, no, it was something else, something deeper, something telling him; he would go to Oldstones, it wasn't a question of if, but when.
2 more days passed, 11th and 12th, that was how he was documenting this journey in his head. God, had it really been 3 weeks since he'd left Winterfell? For who knows when he'd be back? He felt more unsettled the further he travelled, and he knew that feeling would accompany him for a long term. Perhaps (and he hoped) it would calm once he left the South of Westeros, for friendlier shores, and yet that would be a while yet, though hopefully not too long.
"How long do you think we'll need to stay in Kings Landing?" He asked Robb then, as the two rode side by side, back on the Kingsroad, past Fairmarket, and further, silent for the morning (for the long days travel did take their toll), but the sun coming out had perked them up a touch.
The one thin benefit of the South, the effect of the sun, though Jon would always prefer the cold, he wasn't made for the warmth.
"I think the King said a few months" Robb said with a roll of his eyes, "And I know it will take a little while for Father to get the boat for our tour sorted"
Jon couldn't help but think Lord Stark would be working doubly as hard to get it sorted, to whisk them out of Kings Landing, at least he hoped as much. The sooner they left Kings Landing, the better.
"I might write to him tonight" Jon said with a nod, "See how long he thinks"
Robb nodded, "We'll have to stay so not to be rude" Robb shot him a look then and Jon nodded, even here, surrounded by Northerners with the Southern contingent ahead, they were limited in what they could say.
"Of course" Jon said, "It takes a month to get South, and what a month, maybe two for Father to sort the boat?" Jon said, shooting Robb that same look, "Two months in the Capitol maybe?"
"Sounds right and good to me" Robb said, "You'll write Father? Confirm as much?"
Clever Robb, not ask, confirm, to ensure they wouldn't be stuck in the rotting Capitol for too long. Honestly just two months made Jon's stomach sink, but he knew it was necessary to placate the King, and for the book.
He hated to admit it, but Jon knew going South would be good for quests, for developing, and for levelling up. Sure, if he could choose, he still would have rather stayed North, and would turn around immediately if he could, but he couldn't, and so would try to look at it as a learning experience and try (and likely fail) not to scowl whilst he did so.
Yes, Jon knew where his priorities lay, learning enough and levelling up to protect his family, but the South was too dangerous to linger in for long, he'd risk missing some quests to make sure Robb was safe, to get out of Kings Landing as quickly as possible.
The raven would fly as soon as they stopped, as Robb said to confirm what they'd decided.
Part of him wished he could tell Robb the truth, about the book, about the future, and yet he had long ago resigned the burden was his alone to shoulder, not only because Robb would likely think him mad before believing him, but also because it was his burden to bear, he'd been chosen, he was in the wrong time, the wrong body, it was his responsibility to shoulder, to have.
And he would shoulder it, until crushed, or the weight lifted.
He just hoped it was the latter.
"Jon look" His head snapped up then, out of his brooding thoughts, to see the party had once again slowed, not stopped, slowed, especially the Northerners, and Robb next to him who was pointing.
Though Jon needed no one to point out what they should be looking at, a gasp barely smothered in his throat as he saw it.
The Trident.
The first thought that came to mind was that it seemed to stretch for miles on end, twisting and winding, an endless streak of sparkling blue water. It curved and bended, seemingly going on forever, he knew of course it didn't, but looking at it, he wouldn't be surprised if he could walk and never find the end.
It was clear, the water sparkling and as translucent as he could hope. Reeds and water lily's obscured some of the surface, and plants sprung up on the sides, but it was wide enough that nothing was covered up.
All the party had stopped, a call for dinner from the King immediately bringing the party to a halt; perfect.
He knew he'd need time to find the rubies, if he could even find them at all, he was only bolstered by the fact that no quest had been impossible yet, difficult yes, but not impossible, and so he knew the rubies were somewhere, he just had to find them, and again for that, he needed time, a lot of time.
Jon also knew he couldn't court suspicion, he was too old to have the childlike glee of looking for shiny stones, and he did not want any eyes on him, and so he knew when everyone slept would be his best bet, as difficult as the dark would make it, it would be the only stretch of time he'd have, particularly with only a few guards on duty, likely to ignore him.
The issue was, it was barely dinnertime, and he knew the party was itching to get back to the Capitol (why he did not know, he felt a further sense of dread with each step toward it), they wouldn't camp here for the night.
And so, as he'd already concluded, Jon would have to make them.
He knew how, having got the idea when they'd just passed White Harbour, the Wheelhouse, huge, opulent, garish as it was had broken down, it had taken near half a day to fix it, and he knew if it broke down here again it would take the same, giving him the night to complete this quest.
It was easy to get away, to claim he needed to relieve himself, Robb was joining him for dinner tonight, which he was thankful for, but it put more of a time squeeze on the first part of the plan.
He ran through the plan in his head as he walked through the party, thankful for his bastard status this time, meaning he went largely ignored.
He'd jam a stick in the wheelhouse wheel (which he had in his pocket having scooped it up days early, the perfect size to destroy one of those wheels), and then when it started the crunch of the wheel and log would destroy it, requiring a quick repair, the key would be to angle it so that the branch was completely destroyed, that way it would seem to be a natural fault, not sabotage.
Jon didn't have much time and he quickened his pace even through the party, time was of the essence.
He had a plan, he knew how to execute it, and needed to do so.
The books glow barely even distracted him, as he hurriedly read through the words infront of him.
PERK!
Ordered Mind.
You have unlocked a further Perk to Organised Mind! You truly keep your plans clear, resulting in even more improved decision making, tactical planning and even battle preparation. +10 Strategy, +10 Tactics, +1 INT, Unlocked Skill 'Battle Preparations' +10.
To clarify: Many PERKS have a 'further Perk' which whilst rewarding normally to the same stats will add more to them. Keep an eye out for these!
He did manage a smile to that, good to see more progress when it had often been slow on the road, but he had no time to pick it apart, instead promising himself to look back over it later, when he wasn't on such a clock.
And yet it seemed things were conspiring against him as he went to hurry forward once more, invisible as he was hurrying through the crowd, and yet was stopped, not by the book, but by something perhaps even more awe inspiring, even to a hardened mind like his.
Player!
Barristan Selmy
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Level:?
Relationship: 10/100
"Excuse me" Jon said, "Ser" He added as an aside, he knew his Uncle had a lot of respect for Barristan Selmy, and for good reason from the stories he'd head, the man in front of him was a living legend, Jon couldn't even imagine his level.
What had Maester Luwin said to him once?
'Old men in a profession where men die young are to be feared and respected'
"You're Lord Stark's son, correct?" Barristan asked, and Jon noted he didn't say the word bastard, and nodded all the same, interesting.
"Yes Ser" He said, "Jon Snow"
"Yes" Barristan said, "I saw you practicing with some of the Kings soldiers, you're good, very good"
Jon could feel his cheeks warm then, and his lips perk up, sure, he was a man now, at least in mind, but he couldn't help but feel again in awe and extremely pleased that a swordsmen as skilled as Ser Barristan Selmy was talking about his skill.
"Thank you" He offered with a bow of his head, he could see why his Uncle respected him so, "I like to make sure I can defend myself" He scolded himself in his mind, feeling slightly tongue tied.
"You can indeed" Barristan said with a smile, "When we arrive in the Capitol we should spar, I can teach you a thing or two"
"I would be honoured" Jon said with a smile, a true smile, and he meant every word.
"The Kingsguard is always a good option for someone with limited means" Barristan said then, "And you have the skill for it, think on it"
"Thank you" Jon said with a nod, but didn't elaborate, Ser Barristan nodded then, leaving him to it, his gold cloak swishing behind him as he walked away.
Jon did allow himself to pause for a second, he appreciated Barristan's endorsement, and his belief he was skilled enough for the Kingsguard, but Jon knew that would never be a path for him, if he did decide to swear himself to duty once again it would be to the Watch and the Watch only.
Still, he knew the book would consider it an option as it glowed, bringing up not one but two quests, one he grinned at, the other he knew would never come to pass.
Quest Alert!
Test Your Skill
Spar with Ser Barristan in Kings Landing, and learn a thing or two.
Reward: +10 Sword, +10 Shield, +10 Bastardsword, +200XP.
Failure: -20 Sword, -10 Bravery.
He near laughed at that, he could see the quest was only to spar, not beat, thank goodness, the book did indeed only offer what he could achieve.
Quest Alert!
To Defend a King
Join the Kingsguard.
Reward: Unlock the Quest '?' +2 STR, +2 END, +20 Relationship with all Southerners, +1000XP. You are now a valued and vaunted member of the Kingsguard, you are no longer free to do as you wish but are respected across the Kingdoms.
Failure: -1 STR, -1 END, -10 Relationship with all Southerners.
This is an active quest; active quests are ongoing and do not have to be selected, thus they are hard to fail. Failure will only be determined if the quest becomes impossible to achieve.
He was pleased to see the negatives weren't so harsh, perhaps because the book knew he was unlikely to ever complete it, that was a silver lining at least.
"Packing up soon" A voice called across the crowd and Jon jumped, shaking himself, he had gotten distracted! He knew his limited time window had shrunk even more and he was quick on his feet then, faster even as he hurried through the crowd, he had maybe minutes to ensure he stopped the wheelhouse and didn't get caught doing so.
Again, he was thankful for being largely ignored and his fast feet, as in minutes, sweating slightly (the damn Southern heat), he was at the wheelhouse, which as he could see was empty and unguarded, everyone taking the time to stretch their legs, he could even spy the Queen far ahead, walking with her children and brother, and the King off to one side drinking.
How foolish were the Southerners not to guard the wheelhouse? If he were an assassin he'd slip inside and wait for the royal family to return, hell he was about to offer sabotage, but lucky for the Queen, nothing so lasting as death.
Though he hoped one day to deliver that to Cersei Lannister, justice for all she'd done, one day.
Now he had more important things to do.
He was quick on his feet and thankful for his experience of sneaking Beyond the Wall and at Castle Black, as a boy he would have fumbled this, but with the mind of a man he couldn't afford to.
First, he looked out for anyone approaching, saw none, and as the Queen, her children and brother made a turn to walk he quickly ran to the wheelhouse, sliding down to a knee next to it, ignoring the slight tear of his breeches and skinned knee he had as a result, ignoring the pain as he often had, had to in battle, in favour of the task at hand.
Again, he was quick, his hands deft as he grabbed the stick, short enough that the first turn of the carriage should obliterate it, destroying any signs of sabotage, but thick enough it would break the wheel at the same time.
Once it was in, he jammed it back, just to ensure it would catch several of the spokes, and was hidden behind one of the spokes. He knew the carpenters could fix a damaged spoke quickly, but an entire wheel? That would take hours to carve, leading them to camp overnight.
Giving him just the time he needed.
Now in place he paused for just a second to admire his handywork, but he allowed himself no to time to boast, back onto his feet and turning in the other direction before anyone could catch him. He only glanced back once to check the log was in place, and when he confirmed it with his eyes, he knew unless the guards did a thorough examination of the wheels they wouldn't catch it.
Jon quickened his pace back to his horse, thankful the crowd had thinned as people went back to their horses and carts, guards quickly astride their beasts, anticipating they'd be back on the road imminently.
He was back to his horse with hardly anytime to spare before the contingent began to mumble and rustle, ready to take off again, Robb shot him a look as he leapt onto his horse, looking a little sweaty and only forcing himself not to breath heavily so not to arouse suspicion.
"Everything alright?" Robb asked, as they fell into the side by each other, though Jon knew it wouldn't be for long.
"Damn Southern food" He said, and the Northerners laughed, Robb along with them, an easy joke to shake off any questions.
Jon did crinkle his nose at that though, he was becoming a better liar by the day, had come leaps and bounds even since coming back. It was good of course for his plans, but he wasn't sure he liked how easily the lies fell from his tongue.
Thankfully he was distracted from that large moral question as a resounding crack sounded through the contingent, and Jon schooled his expression immediately, especially as the shout went up.
"Stop the train!"
"What in the hells is it now?" One of the Northern soldiers grumbled, everyone coming to a swift stop, mumbling in annoyance, Jon remained quiet, he wasn't so good a liar he could fake concern.
It was minutes later a squire ran past, rattling off the same explanation, "The wheelhouse has broken, we'll be making camp for the night"
"Again?" Robb said with a shake of his head, "Can't the Southerners sit astride on a horse?" Robb complained.
"Probably doesn't smell enough like flowers" Jon said in response and Robb cracked a grin, before he nodded with a roll of his eyes, there wasn't much to do but accept they'd be stopping for the night.
Which whilst everyone else grumbled, setting up tents, getting fires ready and settling in, Jon hid his smile, his plan had worked perfectly, they were setting up camp right next to the banks of the Trident, the water within a minutes' walk, just where they needed to be.
Now it was time for the real quest.
Jon felt like time was dragging slowly, mocking him perhaps, as the night drew near it seemed to take weeks for each minute to tick by.
He took dinner with Robb and the Northerners, deer they'd caught days earlier and potatoes making a fine bowl each. They disliked the Southern food, the fish and rice they preferred in the Riverlands was not enough for the Northerners, and the spices Southerners used were not to their palettes. Still, they ate their meals quick, washed it down with Northern ale (again they all preferred it to wine), and then turned in early.
It was unsurprising, life on the road gave way to little conversation but also was tiring for everyone, any chance at a big of extra sleep and everyone grasped at it.
Which left Jon, hours after dinner just waiting, waiting, Robb fast asleep beside him, the snores of the Northerners heard across the tents, waiting.
He would have fallen asleep himself, life on the back of a horse weary and always lending to him being asleep in minutes (a skill he'd also learnt from the Watch, when you could get a few extra minutes, you took it), but tonight there was no risk of that, he remained wide awake, waiting, waiting.
The anticipation, the excitement singing in his blood, it put paid to any chance he'd drift off, and as he heard the call of the guard to extinguish all but the guard torches, did he give it a few minutes before he was up.
He did pause before hurrying away, to look at the quest, hopefully for the last time now before he completed it.
Onto the Trident, where he knew the quest awaited him.
Quest Alert!
Rubies of the Trident
Find Rhaegars lost rubies in the waters of the Trident. They will reveal powerful secrets about your Fathers heritage and last moments!
Reward: Unlock your Fathers heritage page, +500XP, +1 LUC, See your Fathers last moments!
Failure: Your Fathers heritage page remains locked, -1 PER, -1 LUC, You do not see your Fathers last moments.
Again, he was thankful for his sneaking abilities, and resolved to actually work harder on any quests that gave him more, for they were useful in many respects, but for sneaking away to do quests? Invaluable. Robb didn't so much as stir as he hurried out the tent, Ghost, his ever-faithful companion at his heels.
He remained in tunic and breeches, sword strapped at his belt, Ghost at his side, and he quickly picked up a torch he'd stashed earlier, it was dark outside, near pitch black, and as soon as he was far enough away from his tent he lit his torch off one of the guard torches, he'd need to see after all, and there were so few guards he knew he wouldn't be spotted.
Still, he was fast.
Ghost had no trouble keeping up as he hurried away from the main contingent, torch by his side so not to attract attention, feet sure footed and silent on the grass, he ran for a good fifteen minutes, parallel to the Trident before he reached a cropping of trees next to it, there he crouched down. The party for Kings Landing stretched on for miles, and he knew he'd need to be further away if he wanted to remain hidden, he could have no one interrupting his quest.
Here at the Ruby Ford, the place of the Battle of the Trident the water was shallower and there were several points where Jon could walk across, as he'd scouted earlier. He kept his torch up as he spotted one of those points, and hurried across, unbothered by wet boots, some discomfort was more than worth what he'd be getting.
It was not that he cared about the rubies so much, link to his Father as they were, it was the rewards he hoped for, the XP and LUC yes, but the heritage page and to see his Father's last moments … that mattered far more.
Once across he hurried to another cropping of trees ten minutes along. He estimated he had about 7 hours until dawn, and he had been out of bed for about forty minutes, giving him plenty of time, providing he kept a good pace.
He was far enough away from the group now, it was time to turn to the actual quest, and that stopped Jon.
Where was he supposed to look?
He'd thought so much about how to stop the wheelhouse, how to set up for the quest, how to ensure he had a torch and enough time to look he hadn't even begun to think about how to find the rubies, where did he start? The Ruby ford ran for a good stretch, and even with a torch his view was limited.
Thankfully, he needn't have worried.
"Insights into the Past!" He'd never felt so relieved to hear the boom of those words.
And he was unsurprised as to where he emerged.
He was surprised to the chaos of it all though.
Man cutting down man, horses running amok, swords clanging, arrows flying, he had been planted in the full throws of a battle, and as he spied the Trident, as he spied the sigils on each plate, he knew immediately where he was, or rather when he was.
The Battle of the Trident.
Only seconds and he found what evidently, he had come to see.
And yet, even as he turned, ran forward, he'd come late.
There was no lead up, no epic fight, no back and forth, no, perhaps that had already happened, perhaps there had been none at all, but Jon arrived only in time to see who must have been Robert Baratheon, so far removed from the fat King, a great warrior here, clad in the sigil of his hourse, the great stag, massive war hammer in hand, arrived to see said war hammer strike down.
Strike down on his Father, Rhaegar Targaryen.
His Father fell in a graceful arc, as Jon ran to his side, but could do nothing, his hands snatching through air, could do nothing as Rhaegar Targaryen fell, red flying from his chest, blood and rubies perhaps, a harsh gasp leaving his lips as Jon ran close enough to hear, that and more.
'Lyanna' He gasped, and then he was no more.
Eddard Stark was his father in his mind, and yet he flinched as he saw him then, as paintings had depicted him, as he knew by the armour, a great dragon, Rhaegar Targaryen, eyes still open, a piercing purple, dead, gone.
His armour sunken in, smashed, blood running under him, and the rubies, the glittering rubies.
Gone, the indents where they should be empty and crumpled.
But there…
His gaze lingered on his Father, wanted to stay there, to the man he did not know, but had known his Mother, had loved her as his Uncle said, wanted to study him further, look at him, memorise him, and yet, something else caught his eye, dragging his gaze away.
Seven glittering stones, cresting over one of the waves, as clear and beautiful, such a sparkling red they stood out against the blood, dancing over the water, to be taken far far away.
He ran after them, eyes following them, down the river, winding into the Trident, never dipping below the surface, never, and yet, where had they gone? Washed into the sea? Would Jon find them if he spent all night looking?
No.
No, Jon would never find them, that was clear, as a hand reached down into the water, black fingernails, pale skin, scooped them up in one swoop, counted them out, seven of them from palm to palm, and placed them in an azure bag at their waist, scooped them from a spot Jon had seen the day before, just minutes from where he was now, in one of the bends of the river.
Jon didn't recognise the man … if they could be called that, no idea of who or what it was, but they didn't even share a glance, only the mans long robes danced in the wind, his blue tongue flicking out to wet his lips, as he took the bounty, the prize, the rubies, and tucked them away. They wouldn't be found in the Trident, they'd been in the water only seconds.
"Who…?" Jon said out loud, though why he bothered he didn't know, no one could hear him here.
"Who indeed?"
He stumbled back then, falling straight down, as the man, or whoever he was, turned to face him, eyes as blue as his lips, "Interesting" There was no doubt from Jon he could see him, but how?
"How…" He began, but the man, 'Warlock' a whispered voice supplied, just smiled.
"It will come to pass" Was all he said, and then he turned away, and though Jon urged himself to get up, grab the man and demand answers, by the time he could, by the time he stopped shaking, the man … Warlock was gone, somehow, as though blinked away.
He was pulled back to the present so abruptly then, he did gasp this time, on his knees next to the Trident, Ghost next to him, the torch still burning next to him, his time in the past never took any real time, and yet Jon still shook, still gasped as though out of breath.
How had the Warlock seen him?
He was almost relieved, and in the same turn terrified as writing danced in front of him.
Quest Alert!
Blue Lipped, Purple Eyed
Visit the Warlocks of Qarth and understand their words.
Reward: The Truth.
Failure: The Lies.
That was it, no explanation,, that was it?
Jon felt somehow more shaken than when the Warlock had looked at him, his hands trembling so much it took him too long to calm himself, to get back to the task at hand.
He only managed to do so through sheer determination, and yet … even as he stood and walked to the point he'd seen in the vision, where Rhaegar had fallen, died, Ghost at his heels, torch in hand, what was the point? The rubies were gone, what was he looking for?
No quest had been impossible so far, but was this time different? He hoped the book didn't expect him to head to Qarth (though evidently he'd be going there in the future … if he had the nerve).
And yet, the second he got to the point he'd seen in the vision, as he went to his knees at the spot, bringing his torch to hover over the water, clear and blue as it was, gone of blood, no rubies either, and yet, immediately, far quicker than he could remember he was pulled back again.
He didn't even need to hear the boom, 'Insights into the Past' to understand what was happening, but the question that roared in his mind, was, why? Why was it happening?
The quest had been to find the rubies, the rubies were gone, what was left?
'Much Jon Snow' A voice cackled, and then he focused, and he had no idea where he was.
He was in a woods, deep in a woods, one he didn't recognise, it was lush, green, and he spotted a Weirwood to one side, tucked away, sap running down the bark, but then he looked forward, and focused on the two people talking.
One was a Targaryen, a King by the looks of the crown resting on his white hair, the other … he had no idea.
It was a woman, dark skinned, leaves scattered through her hair, wearing brown robes, smiling even, twirling a piece of hair on her finger, as the King waited, waited patiently even for her to speak.
Jon had rarely seen Kings wait, and straightened his back, waiting for the woman to speak, she must be important to see patience from a King, who was she?
'This prophecy' The woman said, her voice silky and smooth, 'It comes from the East, the red wastes, and further, why do you care for it?'
'It came to Kings Landing' The King said, his voice clear and fair, 'About a Prince that was Promised, I thought a Woods Witch might know about it'
Jon recognised those words then, as Melisandre of Asshai had spoken them often, Jon had put little stock in prophecy's once, he knew not to make that mistake again. She had waxed lyrically about the Prince that was Promised, come forward to save the world as though from the Age of Heroes, she had believed it to be Stannis once, had been wrong, Jon had accused her of mistakes, perhaps he had been the one who was wrong.
He also realised the woman in question was a Woods Witch, was it a coincidence he was seeing one now just after passing Oldstones, where the Woodswitch friend of Jenny of Oldstones was famous?
Jon knew better than to presume any coincidence in this world, with this book at his side.
'Yes' The Woods Witch said, 'You've heard the prophecy?'
'Some of it' The King said, 'Born under a bleeding star, amidst salt and smoke' He said, 'Not much more' Jon had heard the same at the Wall, did anyone know much beyond that?
'There is much more' The Woods Witch said with a grin, 'The Prince will be born of your line, King Jaeherys the Second, your line and your line alone'
And then he was back to the present once more, Ghost unmoved again, torch next to him.
What?
What was happening?
He felt more confused than he had before, trying to follow a narrative he didn't understand, back on the banks of the Trident, but the second he was back, he was pulled away again, so quickly he almost felt sick.
Once more to somewhere he didn't recognise, with people he didn't recognise, but he was there only for seconds of their conversation.
"We are blessed here at Quiet Isle. Where the river meets the bay, the currents and the tides wrestle one against the other, and many strange and wondrous things are pushed toward us, to wash up on our shores. Driftwood is the least of it. We have found silver cups and iron pots, sacks of wool and bolts of silk, rusted helms and shining swords . . . aye, and rubies."
"Rhaegar's rubies?"
"It may be. Who can say? The battle was long leagues from here, but the river is tireless and patient. Six have been found. We are all waiting for the seventh."
Once again back on the shores of the Trident, back in the dark with Ghost by his side, back to having no idea what was going on, trying to organise his thoughts, yet his mind felt so scattered it was near impossible.
Why was he being pulled in and out of visions? More than any he'd experienced so far. No other quest had been like this, what was happening?
He tried to focus, think on what the visions were telling him, follow the story, that must be what the book wanted, the real quest. Follow the story.
So, the rubies had washed up to the Quiet Isle? And yet he knew they hadn't, the Warlock had scooped them up, scooped them up and counted them out.
Counted seven of them.
Seven, why was that number important?
What was this quest? He had been tasked with finding the rubies, and yet he felt instead like he had fallen down a rabbit hole, down and down, down memories he didn't know or recognise and that he couldn't piece together.
And there was more to come.
This time it felt like he was flying, barely able to stop at the memory he was pulled into, only pulled in and out to hear the words of those in the memory before he was moved on again.
Mycah and I are going to ride upstream and look for rubies at the ford."
"Rubies," Sansa said, lost. "What rubies?"
Arya gave her a look like she was so stupid. "Rhaegar's rubies. This is where King Robert killed him and won the crown."
Sansa and Arya, going to Kings Landing in the time before, the time before he and Robb had taken their place.
"Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince"
A woman with silver hair again spoke the words this time, to a man he could not see. She looked sorrowful, stood in a great pyramid, her hair tied back in braids.
"We name it the Ruby Ford" One clerk said to another.
"To please our new King"
And then he was back again.
Rubies … blood, were they one in the same? He'd seen the Warlock scoop up the rubies, running down the stream, had heard rumours the battle stopped immediately for people to scoop them out the water but no, the battle had raged on, as the warlock took his father's jewels, counted seven and took them.
The rubies had existed, were long gone now, but what if they weren't what he'd been sent to find?
Rubies, blood, rubies, blood.
One last vision then, but not words, not places, just faces, one after another, accompanied by the same silver writing he knew from the book.
Rhaegar Targaryen, alive here, smiling, so much more to him not crumpled in the water, handsome, purple eyed, smiling. His Father.
Viserys Targaryen the words said, Jon had heard of him, the Mad Kings younger son, handsome too, but with a cruel sneer.
Daenerys Targaryen, young, beautiful, nervous looking in a purple dress, clutching a dragon egg in her hands, was she the woman he'd seen in the pyramid?
Rhaenys Targaryen, a girl no older than four, grinning from ear to ear.
Aegon Targaryen, a babe, days old only, the same silver hair, the same purple eyes.
Rhaego Targaryen, another babe, darker in skin this time, brown eyes, no hint of Targaryen, and yet the name said otherwise. Though this babe was still.
Six.
And then it was his own face, as it was when he had been older, not at the Wall but somewhere else, a scar across his eye, a look of grim determination on his features, Longclaw clutched in hand.
Seven.
He had found Rhaegars rubies.
As the quest hadn't sent him to look for stones, stones far East by now, no, it had thrust this quest upon him to show him so many things, too many to process all at once, but one singing clear to him.
Rhaegar had lost seven rubies that day on the Trident, seven physical rubies that had washed down stream and been taken away by a Warlock. But then there were the real rubies, like drops of blood flying from his chest.
The seven descendants of the Targaryen line, the candidates for the Prince that was Promised.
He strained to think again what Melisandre had said about the Prince That Was Promised, her insistence on repeating it again and again coming to mind.
When I gaze into the flames, I can see through stone and earth, and find the truth within men's souls. I can speak to kings long dead, and children not yet born, and watch the years and seasons flicker past, until the end of days.
Are your fires never wrong?
Never ... though we priests are mortal and sometimes err, mistaking this must come for this may come.
He had asked her that, if her fires were ever wrong, she had been honest, but had continued to insist the Prince That Was Promised, Azor Ahai as she called it, would save them all.
Was it true? Had King Jaeherys sought out the Woods Witch because he thought it was true? What did it mean?
Jon had no idea, but he knew the book was trying to tell him something, he had found the seven rubies, the descendants of the Targaryen line, but he had no idea what to do with that information, how to use it, or what it meant.
Quest Completed!
Rubies of the Trident
Find Rhaegars lost rubies in the waters of the Trident. They will reveal powerful secrets about your Fathers heritage and last moments!
Reward: Unlock your Fathers heritage page, +500XP, +1 LUC, See your Fathers last moments!
+1 LUC = 9.
+500XP = 1400/2500XP.
Nothing triggered to show him his Fathers last moments, he had already seen them, fleeting as they were, and was thankful not to relive them.
He knew the heritage book was unlocked now, he could open it and leaf through as he had his Mothers, and he would, eventually.
For now, Jon prayed for nothing more, for once he hoped the book didn't speak to him, his mind so overwhelmed he just remained in the mud on the bank of the river, trying to sort through it all in his mind, nothing clearer even as he did so.
Wished for nothing more but then…
Wishes were for fools.
Quest Alert!
The Seven.
Understand your place as a Targaryen, and what this means for the world.
Reward: The world is saved.
Failure: The world is lost.
sooo thoughts?
felt like grrm writing that chapter, so tangled and convoluted, honestly a lot of the story I have planned is interweaved like this, if I get to the end of it (and yes naysayers I do plan to), without ripping my hair out it will be a miracle.
I do hope you enjoyed, this story is a complex one, and will continue to be, so thanks for sticking with.
I am making an effort to update at least once a month, so please stop bombarding me about my lack of progress and demands for updates, it is a hard story to write, I have others to update and a busy life, updates will come when they come, getting lots of messages and reviews demanding otherwise will not change that.
as always, thanks for reading, follow/fav for more.
speak soon