Castle Black 299 AC.
Rhaegar Targaryen.
He'd no sooner broken from his embrace of his uncle than his place was taken by his sister. Arya then greeted Benjen just as warmly as he had. The smile on his uncle's face was one he was most pleased to see and he chuckled a little when Benjen mussed Arya's hair and told her that she looked like a true She Wolf. As he walked with Benjen, he had so many questions that flowed through his mind and that he wished to ask. Yet upon seeing firstly Jeor Mormont and then what seemed to be a Child of the Forest, those questions soon were joined by numerous other ones.
To his surprise, Shiera moved directly to the Child of the Forest. Rhaegar looked on as the strange small figure and his aunt had what seemed to be a heated conversation. Thinking at first that there was something wrong, he took a step towards them, only for the expression on his aunt's face to show him that it was not distress but joy of some sort that she was feeling. Turning back to his uncle, he introduced Ser Arthur to him and named his aunt for who she was, and then before he knew it he was standing in front of Jeor Mormont once again.
"Lord Commander."
"Your grace."
"Westeros is mainly mine and my wife's, Lord Commander. There are some regions still to swear fealty but most will have done so by now. However, the aid I promised you has not been forgotten."
"It's good to hear so, your grace," Jeor said relieved.
"To that end, I ordered some supplies to be sent from King's Landing before I left and there will be some new recruits for the Watch arriving soon as well."
"I thank you, your grace. Perhaps we can speak more in my solar, for there is much we need to discuss."
"Much indeed, Jon," Benjen said before quickly stuttering out a Your Grace, which Rhaegar waved his hand at to let his uncle know it was unneeded.
Within a few moments they were in the Lord Commander's chambers and they were taking a seat at his desk. Shiera and the Child of the Forest, who'd been named as Leaf by both Benjen and his aunt, had joined them and refreshments were sent for. Arya he knew wished to warm herself by the fire and so with his eyes and a nod of his head, he bid her do just that. Ser Arthur may have felt the cold just as much as his sister did, but the knight stood at his back. Ever vigilant and always on duty.
"The raven you sent to Aemon bid me come and come quickly Lord Commander, but it told little of why I was needed here. I see no army at your gates or signs of danger and so I find myself both perplexed and yet grateful all the same," he said, the last part as he looked at Benjen sitting beside Leaf.
"It'll be best if it comes from me, nephew." Benjen said "The tale I have to tell is a strange one and yet one I swear is true and would hope you'd believe.
"If it's coming from you uncle, then you should have no doubt I'd believe it," he said which garnered a smile from his uncle.
His uncle then spoke for close to an hour. His tale was exactly as he said it would be, a strange one indeed. Dead men attacking the living. Children of the Forest who had come to his aid and saved his life in the process. A man stuck in a Weirwood tree that Rhaegar had heard many tales of over the years and far more truthful ones since Shiera had come into his life. A Wildling army larger than any that Westeros had seen in more than a hundred years. All of them were now willing to fight against the living, just to escape the dead. He listened to it all and was glad of the ale that arrived along with the food.
Taking a large swallow from the mug, he looked to Arya and bid her to eat, which she did hungrily. Then he turned to see his uncle looking at him worriedly.
"What is it they seek, uncle? The Wildlings. What is it you request of me?"
"I'd see them survive, nephew. They themselves seek little more than that. Bring them through the Wall and let them settle on the lands on this side of it. For to leave them on the other is to condemn them to their doom. We've misunderstood them for so many years. Named them as Wildlings when in truth all they are is a free people. You know what they name themselves?" his uncle asked to a shake of Rhaegar's head "The Free Folk." Benjen then said warmly.
"They can be treated with?" he asked and Benjen nodded.
"My men won't like it, your grace. By the Old Gods, I don't like it." Jeor said with a dark laugh "But I've dreamt of the things that attacked Benjen and if not allowing them through the Wall means that's the fate that awaits them, then it's not a fate I can condemn them to. But I'm just Lord Commander and it'll take a king to negotiate this peace."
"Aunt?" he asked as he turned to Shiera.
"Brynden sent them, Rhaegar. He sent Leaf to your uncle, then your uncle to the Free Folk. He's the reason you didn't swear your oaths and how you and my niece were able to connect to each other from so far away. We both had our parts to play, this is but another of his. Yet the choice is yours and not mine own."
"And were it to be so?" he asked curiously.
"Then they'd already be through the Wall," Shiera said resolutely.
Rising to his feet, he looked to Jeor, Leaf, Arya, and then finally Arthur. Not a one of them seemed to wish him to say no to what was being proposed and so he turned to his uncle and nodded.
"I'll treat with this King Beyond the Wall, uncle. Make the arrangements and we'll see them safe before I leave," he said to great relief from Benjen and Jeor too he was surprised to see. For even after all the words he'd spoken, he knew how hated the Wildlings were amongst the men of the Watch. His own brief time here had been enough for that lesson to be imparted.
Darkness had fallen by the time his uncle had returned from meeting with Mance Rayder and had organized the sit down for the morrow. Arya had reluctantly gone to her bed and Shiera and Leaf were sharing a room with her, Arthur standing guard at its door at Rhaegar's insistence. As a younger boy, he'd heard the tale of Brave Danny Flint and while he doubted that any man would be fool enough to try something like that with a king's sister and aunt, he'd take no chances. He'd had to agree to stay indoors with Jeor Mormont until his uncle returned and though he'd felt a babe being overprotected, he knew Arthur's reasons, and so had agreed and kept to that agreement.
Now as the lift took him to the top of the Wall, and in his uncle's company, he was more than ready to speak truths that had long gone unknown to Benjen Stark. When they reached the top, he bid his uncle take him somewhere that they could be alone and out of earshot, and as they walked, he looked over the top of the Wall and to the lands below. There had been nothing but darkness out there the last time he'd done this. Now there was anything but. Thousands of torches were lit as far as the eye could see and the true extent of the Free Folk numbers was somewhat revealed to him. It seemed to be a staggering amount and it quickly became clear to him that it had not just been an army who had marched to the Wall, but an entire people.
"An awe-inspiring sight is it not?" Benjen asked when they had stopped walking.
"Aye, it is. How many?" he asked.
"Mance said more than a hundred thousand. Though he said he was terrible at sums too." Benjen chuckled, Rhaegar joining him in that.
"You like him, them?"
"They're a people, Jon, no different than you or me when you get to know them. Aye, a little rougher around the edges perhaps, but is not the same true of the North when it's compared with the South?"
"You have no idea, uncle." he said as he shook his head "Did you….did you know?"
"No, whatever else you may think, I'd ask you to believe me on that, Jon. I could never have sworn my oath had I known you were her son."
"My mother…I…she was always there, uncle, she was always there and he hid her from me. I fucking hate him for that more than anything. I wish he was alive so I could drive my sword into his heart for denying me all those years of knowing she was right there all the time. I wish he was alive…..I wish she was alive."
Atop the Wall, he balled like a newborn babe and if it was not for his uncle's embrace, then he'd have fallen to the ground so despondent had he become. Over time, he calmed, they spoke more on his mother, on what she was like and though he'd heard some of it from Arthur and others, hearing it from Benjen was so very different. He laughed at tales of his uncle and mother's childhood. Very soon he marveled at how much like Arya and himself they had been. Then asked the question that he'd longed to ask and bit his lip nervously as he awaited the answer.
"Aye, she'd have been proud of you lad. She'd have loved you as fiercely as she loved anything. Though with you I'd wager it would have been a love without bounds. Never doubt it, Jon. Never doubt that your mother would have loved you with all she was. For trust me I have no doubts at all that I speak true."
"Thank you, uncle. Thank you for being here, for…"
"I'll always be there for you, Jon, on that you can have no doubt too."
He didn't sleep that night. Though he had wished to and had longed to dream of his mother, he found he could not. Instead, he sat by the fire and looked into the flames and thought of his mother and how she'd have reacted to him and to Dany. Of how she may have been when their children, her grandchildren were born. His mother, his father, they'd not been there for him and so as he looked into the fire, he swore an oath. Cutting his hand, he swore it on the blood that spilled and dripped into the flames.
"I'll be there for mine own children, no matter what I must do to see it so. I swear it on the Old Gods. I swear it on Fire and Blood."
King's Landing 299 AC.
Aemon Targaryen.
It was one thing to be named as Hand of the King, even to act as Hand of the King when that king had yet to actually sit the throne, and quite another once he had done so. Up to now, Aemon's duties had been limited. They had no true Small Council, the war hadn't yet been won and so it was mainly advice rather than actual ruling that he'd had to contend with. Now the ruling had truly begun and while he knew that his nephew was off doing something that was truly needed, he couldn't not but hate him a little for not being here instead.
Not that he took any issue with serving his niece just as truly or thought Daenerys to be either lesser or less capable than his namesake, far from it. More it was just that at its heart Westeros was still a man's world. It would take them some time to get used to a queen who was equal to her husband and ruled just as much as he did. Time they did not have and were their tasks merely the everyday ones that ruling incurred, then he'd feel less trepidation as he walked to the Tower of the Hand with his Unsullied guards as his escort.
Though he'd wished to ready for the forming of the Small Council, the swearing of fealty, and of course, the trials, Aemon had some other matters to attend to first. Which was why he was up even earlier this morn and why he'd broken his fast alone instead of with his niece and his nephew's kin. Walking up the long flight of stairs, he wished he was a much younger man and yet felt as hale and hearty as he ever had. He knew his time was limited and that he was nearing his end. Yet he would fight that end for as long as he could. Though he'd not quite be the Old Man of the North, he would wager that his reign as Hand would be somewhat comparable to the Hour of the Wolf by the time it was over and done with. For as with Cregan Stark, Aemon meant to put the realm to rights in as quick a span of time as possible.
"I'll not be long," he said to the two guards who took up their position on either side of the door as he unlocked it.
Entering the room, it was first to the bookshelves that he made his way. Three large tomes were soon being carried as one over to his desk. Laying them out on top of it, it was next to where he kept his supplies of quills, ink, and parchment. Once he'd put them on his desk too, he took his seat. Aemon removed the key from around his neck and unlocked the small drawer of the desk. After he'd taken out the notes that he'd so painstakingly worked on, he placed them with the other items on his desk. Lastly, he poured himself a mug of cold crisp water and began his work.
It was still early when he left his rooms behind and made the much easier trek down the stairs of the Tower of the Hand. He'd gone over things once more, had made his choices, come up with alternatives should they be needed, and was now ready for the day ahead. First, it would be the Small Council. Then the swearing of fealty in public of those lords who'd both done so in private as well as those who'd only just arrived after being summoned and were yet to do so. Once those two tasks were complete, then and only then would they begin to deal with the trials. The Lannisters first of all to be judged for their crimes.
He found that he most looked forward to it and was glad that his nephew had bid them to continue on with it rather than wait for his return. His namesake's words now brought a smile to his face as he left the Tower of the Hand behind. Aemon smirked still as he walked across the courtyard and made his way to the family wing of the Red Keep, ready to join his niece as she broke her own fast.
"Justice needs to be seen to be served, uncle. It can't wait until I deal with events at the Wall, and I have no doubt that both you and Dany are more than capable of seeing it done. Let the realm see my queen for what she truly is. Let them know that my absence is no barrier to House Targaryen being the dragons they are meant to be."
His nephew had been right of course and it showed just how much he'd learned since he'd found out the truth about himself. Entering the corridor that led to the royal chambers, Aemon offered a polite bow of his head to Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan when he saw them both and a moment later he was taking a seat across from his niece. The young translator who she was so close to sat there too. As did Sansa Stark and her mother who were both engaged in what seemed to be a pleasant conversation with young Ned Dayne. With a nod of his head to let Daenerys know that all was well, he took his seat. He was happy enough to accept some hot tea and even partook in some light fare, though he was anything but hungry.
Less than an hour later, he, Daenerys, Ser Barristan and the young girl Missandiei were all sitting in the Queen's Solar as firstly Prince Oberyn Martell entered the room. They'd thought long and hard about what role to give the prince and in the end, had bid him offer up his own suggestion. To their surprise, it had been Coin rather than Laws the man had wished for, and so after some quick maneuvering of the names on their list, they had agreed to his request. It was now time to tell him so and so once the prince was seated, the offer was made and accepted. Next, it was Ser Richard Lonmouth who the king himself wished to serve on their council. The knight was almost stunned when they named him as Master of Laws. Lord Monford Velaryon was the only choice for Master of Ships, just as Ser Arthur Dayne had been the only choice for Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Though he was not yet here, it would the Mage who would serve as their Grandmaester. Aemon already having rejected the names of all those the Citadel would seek to send to them and pretty much demanding it to be so. Pycelle's actions helped greatly in this regard. As had the papers that his nephew and Ser Arthur had stopped him from burning. With those in their possession and with the threat of bringing Pycelle's actions out into the light of day, the Citadel had complied with his demands most quickly. It was a good thing too, as, without them, the rift between them and the Citadel would be an ever-growing one. For Aemon was certain that his niece and nephew would not have accepted any man they put forward lest it was one that had been agreed to by him.
"Lord Reed, please take a seat," he said as the small Crannogman entered the room.
"Your grace, Lord Hand."
"We seek your help, Lord Reed. His grace wishes for you to serve as Master of Whisperers until his return. He bid us ask you not to serve for true as he was sure you've no wish to be away from Greywater Watch for longer than is necessary. So upon his return and when your own path takes you back to the North, then another will be named in your stead. However, the role must be filled until then and it was to you and no other that he bid us look." Aemon said and the mere fact that Howland Reed looked unsurprised at his words told him all he needed to know.
"His grace knows me far better than I'd thought, Lord Hand. Aye, he'd be in the right of it, I've no wish to be parted from my home for too long. Yet in truth the only reason I came south was to swear my fealty to both their graces and to offer to serve should I be needed. I'd be honored to do so, Lord Hand, Your grace." Howland said and Aemon offered him a warm smile as he rose to his feet.
"We'll be holding our first Small Council meeting within the hour, Lord Reed. Mayhap you and Ser Richard Lonmouth could speak before then. He's been somewhat acting in the same role up to now," he said to a nod of the smaller man's head.
"I thank you for your service, Lord Reed, I know my husband will be most pleased that you've agreed to join us, even if only for a brief time," Daenerys said.
"I look forward to both doing all I can and stepping down from doing so your grace." the man said smirking as he left the solar.
They sat in silence for a few moments until his niece then turned to him. She'd been quieter than he expected during the forming of the Small Council and he wondered if it was missing her husband that was the reason for it or if there were larger concerns on her mind.
"I shall take the lead in the Small Council meeting itself, uncle." Daenerys said relieving his worries about her frame of mind "As I shall with the trials and swearing of fealty. You have the recommendations?"
"I do, your grace," he said before handing her the small stack of papers he'd brought with him.
"Good, I'll read these and then we'll make our way to the Small Council chambers. There is much we must do before the day is done."
The truth in those words was more than apparent to them both. So far this day had gone without a hitch and yet he doubted it would be completed before some issue or other arrived. Oberyn wishing to be Master of Coin rather than Laws had turned out to be an easy one to navigate. Aemon wasn't hopeful that whatever popped up next would work out the same. He was however gladdened that Howland Reed had taken up the role that his nephew wished him to serve. Temporary though it was, he was more than capable to serve them in such a way and when in time it was a fellow Northman who replaced him, then their Small Council would truly be complete.
The Wall 299 AC.
Mance Rayder.
Waiting was not something the Free Folk enjoyed nor was it something that was useful in keeping them placid. That they were waiting while in sight of the Wall and under the watchful eyes of the Crows atop it, only further added to the growing anxiety he and the clan leaders were feeling. Already he'd had to step in when fights had gone from mere scuffles to dangerously close to all-out brawls. Having the different clans so close together added to the tense nature of the long wait, and it was easily more than enough to bring old grudges back to the fore.
To his credit, Benjen Stark had kept him informed on what and who they were waiting for. The new king of the Seven Kingdoms. A Dragon no less, though one that had wolf's blood in him through Benjen Stark's sister. Still, he'd be a liar if he said that he truly believed that the new king would come and treat with them. Or that even should he arrive, he'd then give them an agreement they could live up to. If it was not for the fact that it had been the Three-Eyed Raven himself who'd pretty much decided their course for them, then by now they'd be at war, Mance felt.
The one good thing about being camped and not on the move was that Dalla had time to rest and concentrate on the delivery of their babe. Each day that she did so would see that both she and the babe had a better chance of surviving the birthing. While whatever deal he was able to agree to with the King in the South, would, he hoped, see that they survived all the days to come. Looking forlornly at his tent in the distance, it was there that he wished to be. Yet for now, it was to other tents and his duties that he was forced to attend to.
"Mance." Harma Dogshead called out in greeting as he moved towards the grizzled older woman.
"All is well, Harma?" he asked.
"Aye, 'tis good."
"You have all you need?"
"No, but I'll make do."
"Tormund?"
"Hunting."
A nod of his head and he was about to set out on his rounds again when the shouts went up and he, Harma, and he'd wager, every single man, woman, and child of the Free Folk, looked to the sky and saw the giant black shape as it flew towards the Wall. While around him people clearly grew fearful at the sight of the black dragon, Mance actually wore a smile on his face. Not that he wasn't afraid or worried about what would happen were the dragon to be loosed upon them. Instead, it was because he was imagining what it would be like when the dragon laid down its flames on the dead things that came for them all.
Within an hour, he was back at his tent and answering questions that he truly had no answer to. So he was thankful when the rider came from Castle Black and told them they had naught to fear and that the king had arrived. Although in truth it was pretty much a pointless exercise when he really thought about it. For who else would the dragon belong to but a Targaryen king? Still, it settled down the loudest and most worried of the voices and allowed them to make ready for the parley that was to come on the morrow.
Later that night as he ate his evening meal, Tormund asked him question after question about the black dragon. He'd not seen it for himself and had only heard the tale of it from other people. Mance answered what he could, which wasn't much, and he assuaged his friend's worries as best he could. The Tall Talker wasn't the only one whose worries he needed to calm that night it turned out. So as he lay beside Dalla in their bed, his hand softly stroking her swollen belly, he did his best to assure her too.
"I doubt the Three-Eyed Raven sent us here on a false mission, love."
"Yet you know it not."
"No. But we were told we'd treat with a king and that safe passage would be offered. Can we truly wish for more?"
"I wish our child to be born, Mance."
"I wish them to grow, my love. Them and you to be safe and well and for our people to survive. The dragon is the best chance we have for that."
"You hope," she said worriedly and so he moved closer to her, held her a little more tightly, and kissed her cheek softly.
"Aye, that I do."
He dreamt of green fields and of children running across them. One had hair like his own and was clearly his son while the other was definitely her mother's child. Mance stood with his arms wrapped around Dalla from behind, his fingers joined together over her swollen belly as they watched their children. It felt so real to him that he could almost feel the warmth from the sun as it shone above them all. The sound of his children's laughter had shown that they were happy and joyful. So when he awoke from the dream that morning, he hurriedly made a vow that it would be the life that he and they would know.
Dalla and he broke their fast together and were joined by Val. His Goodsister was alone for once and she very much did not enjoy the small barbs that Dalla took at her over Jarl's absence. Mance had barely finished eating when Sigorn entered his tent to tell him that the king and those who came with him to the parley had been spotted. He quickly rose to his feet, moved to Dalla, and kissed her softly before offering her a reassuring nod, and then he left the tent. Outside, Tormund and some of the other clan leaders had already gathered and all were armed to the teeth.
If you wish for peace then prepare for war, he thought to himself. It was as good a creed to live by as any and looking at the faces of those closest to him, he could see the truth of both sides of it in their expressions.
Looking to each of them, he welcomed their nods and offered one of his own, and then they began the trek to where they'd greet the party that rode to meet them. It was to be in the open and had been decided upon by Benjen Stark. Mance had wished it to be under the cover of the trees, but until guest right had been offered and accepted, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch would never agree to such. Nor would the new king if he was smart and clever or at least surrounded by men who were. Still, he'd made the offer just to see it denied.
Surprisingly, it was they who arrived first which gave them the chance to look at the horses that rode their way and those who rode on their backs. He could make out Benjen Stark and the Child of the Forest. As well as someone who looked like Jeor Mormont to him, along with a number of other Crows. It took him longer to find the king and even from a distance he looked far too young and green to Mance's eyes. He rode with what seemed to be a young girl in front of him too which confused him somewhat. Mance was about to write him off as non-threatening when he caught sight of the man in the white cloak who rode nearest to him. Yet no sooner had he looked at the Kingsguard than the roar rang out and the black dragon flew over their heads.
"By the Fucking Old Gods!" Tormund exclaimed, other voices soon joining and expressing their worries and dismay.
"Are they breaking parley?"
"That's a huge fucking beast."
The dragon landed a short distance from them and it was only then that its true size could be judged. It was easily two hundred feet from tip to tail and more than fifty from the ground when it stood raised. How wide across it was he couldn't be certain, but its head alone seemed large enough to swallow a horse whole. Mayhap even an aurochs or a mammoth, he pondered. While the rest of the group continued to ride towards them, the king and the Kingsguard diverted and rode to the black dragon. The young man then dismounted alone once they reached it. Mance looked on as the king walked to the dragon's head and he saw the dragon as it moved to greet him. He, like those with him, all watched with awe as a black-gloved hand softly stroked the dragon's snout. The young man treated the dragon as if it was a tame rabbit or a placid horse he was stroking and not some great beast of legend.
So awestruck was he, that he barely noticed the arrival of the rest of the party and his eyes never moved from the dragon or the young man in front of it. Not even when guest right was being offered and accepted. Instead, he simply watched as the dragon and what had to be its rider greeted each other as warmly as could be. Then as the king turned to walk to his horse, the dragon raised its head and roared loudly in their direction. The warning was one he understood all too well and the black dragon had naught to fear from him or his. For only a fool would dare try to harm this dragon's rider and he'd brought no fools with him to this parley.
Turning to see who had come, he now saw it was a few men of the Watch that he knew. There was more than one that he hated and was hated by in return. The Halfhand was among them as was Ser Denys Mallister and while he ignored the glares sent in his direction, Tormund and others seemed not to be so willing. A shake of his head was enough to see their anger calmed for now. As Mance moved to speak to Benjen Stark and the Child of the Forest, the king, the young girl he rode with, and his Kingsguard arrived. Mance quickly found that he'd been right and the boy indeed was young enough to be as green as grass. While the young girl looked to be a budding Spearwife, given her look and the sword she wore at her hip.
"May I present his grace, King Rhaegar Targaryen, The First of his Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realms of Men." the young girl said proudly.
"And mine own squire, Arya Stark, the She-Wolf, the Lady Warrior, the Sword of the North." the king said, his tone just as proud as the young girl's had been a moment earlier "As well as Ser Arthur Dayne, The Sword of the Morning," he then added to a gasp from him. Mance had heard the man had died and yet here he stood and breathed. He was now face to face with a legend and one that he knew could cut them all down where they stood if he so wished.
"I'm Mance Rayder," he said simply in reply.
"The King Beyond the Wall!" Tormund and then others quickly shouted out.
"You'll accept Guest Right, King Rhaegar?"
"We Will, King Mance." the young man replied, which somewhat endeared him to those with Mance as they'd not expected his crown to be recognized by a southern king.
Once Rhaegar, Arthur Dayne, and Arya Stark had all partaken of the bread and salt, they moved to the stumps of the trees that Mance had his people lay out the night before. A fire was soon lit and he welcomed the heat from it and then there was silence as he waited for the king to speak. The king though seemed to wait for him to do so. In the end, he broke the silence and told Rhaegar why they wished to cross the Wall and what he was willing to do to see them allowed through.
"The dead rise, Rhaegar. In the cold north, they rise and more than one of my people has been lost to 'em. We seek the Wall to put a barrier between us and them. But we are a free people, we will not kneel. Not even to a man with a dragon."
"My uncle Aemon told me much of the Free Folk. My aunt Shiera speaks much of the Others, while my uncle Benjen tells me tales of a man with a thousand eyes and one. In the South, I've fought a war to take back the throne stolen from my family. There are still those who've not yet knelt to me and yet they will. Those who are my enemies face naught but fire and blood, while those I name as friends have not only my protection but my goodwill. I name the Free Folk and its king as neither." Rhaegar said.
Tormund looked at him worriedly while Harma and Styr bore angry looks on their faces. Mance though felt that there was more to come and so he held his tongue.
"Protector of the Realms of Men, Mance. Not just King or Lord or the right to sit my arse on a throne, Protector of the Realms of Men. That is the sacred duty given to any who sits the Iron Throne and it's one that's been forgotten over the years. It's not one that I am willing to forget. However oaths will need to be sworn, an accord reached and an agreement came to before you can cross the Wall. I'll not ask you to kneel, to name me your king nor to kiss my arse." Rhaegar said to some laughs "I will ask you to keep my peace and to fight by my side when the time comes. For as much protection as you may think a Wall puts between you and the dead, I fear it to be a battle that is inevitable."
"Aye, as do I, Rhaegar."
"I'll settle you on the lands of the Gift. Bid you to man some of the castles on the Wall. I'll see you fed and armed and accept your word that you'll not seek to raid, reave or rape amongst any of my people. Shall you break your word, then I'll bring death to those who do so.t There will be no quarter given and no excuses accepted. Break your word and those who do so will know only fire and blood. Keep to it and you'll find no truer ally than me."
"You'll not ask us to kneel?" Tormund asked disbelievingly.
"Not the now, no."
"Not the now?" he asked curiously.
"When the fight is done and when the war is won. Once we know peace once more. Then should any wish to remain on my lands they'll need to kneel and swear to me for true." Rhaegar said.
"But they'll not be forced to?" Harma asked.
"No. They kneel willingly or they return to the lands from whence they came. But none will be forced to do either."
"And that's all you seek from us?" he asked.
"No, I seek your word here and now, Mance. You cross the Wall and you stay within the lands of the Gift. You seek no reprisals against any perceived wrongs of the Night's Watch and nor will they with you. Any who fails to live up to that word will answer for it with their life. On either side." Rhaegar said looking to the Halfhand, "Give me that now and the gates will be opened and we can begin to let you pass. Do not and we go our separate ways and take our chances with what the gods have given us."
He looked to Tormund, Styr, Val, and Harma. It had been them and he who'd been chosen to do this deal and he needed each of them to agree to it. Tormund looked to him and when Mance nodded his head so did he While the others all did so without even the need for that.
"You have my word, Rhaegar."
"I'll have it in blood, Mance," Rhaegar said and he caught the smirk on Tormund's face as the king in the south took out a small knife and cut his palm before handing him the knife to do likewise.
"You have it," he said as he cut his own hand and gripped Rhaegar's with it. The blood mixed between their pressed palms before it fell to the ground and a blood bond had now been agreed upon between them. To break it was to go against the Old Gods themselves, not something any man of the Free Folk, let alone he, was willing to do.
Rhaegar had been schooled well in their ways and as he looked to Benjen and then the Child of the Forest, it was clear it was the latter and not the former who'd been the one to do so. With that, it was done. Few more words were spoken and though the Halfhand glared at both him and the king, neither he nor Jeor Mormont had even uttered a word during the talks. None other than the king had spoken on their side now that he thought about it. He was just about to move away when Benjen Stark and the Child moved to him. The king and the young girl were japing about something and had been joined by s woman with striking silver hair who stood a little to the left of them.
"Move quickly, Mance Rayder. Dally not, for he dallies never." The Child, Leaf he now remembered her as being named as, said.
"Leaf has the right of it, Mance. I feel the air growing colder for some reason and so the gates will be open day and night and I'd see you move each and every person you can through them quickly."
"Aye, have no fear, Benjen. My people want the same as you."
Bidding them both farewell and offering a small bow of his head to the king as they parted, they hurried back to the camp. Tormund, Val, and Styr all offered their takes on the parley as they did so.
"I'd not thought it to be so easy," Tormund said jovially.
"You think it a trap?" A falsehood?" Val asked worriedly only for Styr to answer her.
"He made a blood oath, Val. The gods will strike him down were he to break it."
"What say you, Mance?" Harma asked.
"I say he played us true and we do as he says."
"Aye, we move and move quickly," Tormund said happily.
Upon arriving back at their camp, he sent them to inform the clan leaders and to make ready the march to the Wall and Castle Black itself. There were close to a hundred thousand men, women, and children, to move to the other side of the Wall and he'd see it done in as quick as time as he could. For he worried about the cold winds that blew too. With that done, he entered his tent to find Dalla making their stew for the night's dinner and she looked at him with both hope and trepidation once she noticed his arrival.
"We came to an agreement." he said to a true smile from his love "He seems to me to be a man we can trust," he added.
King's Landing 299 AC.
Dany.
While she'd have preferred to hold off on the swearing of fealty until Rhaegar returned, he'd been insistent that she do so without him. He wished for the realm to see her as a true queen, a ruling queen not as a consort, and so she'd done as he'd bid. The Lords of the North, Lady Stark and her son along with her uncle, Prince Oberyn, and the Lords of the Reach, all had sworn to her, Rhaegar, and to their house. As had the Magners from Skagos and the Lords of the Vale and Riverlands.
They had few Lords of the Stormlands present and yet those who were had sworn their oaths to While the Lords of the West and Reach who'd actually fought against them would await their judgment before doing the same. It left only a few holdouts before they could name the Seven Kingdoms theirs completely. Theon and Asha Greyjoy had arrived and been placed in their cells while she pondered on their fate. Dany knew that even if she went with her granduncle's advice and named the latter as the new ruler of the Iron Islands, that would only be the beginning of putting the Iron Born to rights.
Edmure Tully had retreated back to Riverrun along with some of his closest companions. Ravens had been sent to their Houses and to him to demand they swear their oaths and accept their punishment. While in the Vale, word had been sent to Lysa Tully and to Petry Bealish that they were to come to King's Landing at once, or they'd find a dragon at their door. Given how both the lady's sister and uncle held out no true hope that she'd comply, it would more than likely be force that removed them from the Eyrie.
Rhaegar would more than likely stop off in Winterfell before he returned to King's Landing. Her husband was keen to see the two young boys he still named as brothers and Dany knew that Arya would be too. While there, he'd accept Bran's oath of fealty and name him their Warden of the North, with Rickon as his heir should he not be able to produce one of his own. Then and only then would he return and her bed would no longer be an empty one, other than for the white wolf which shadowed her every move. Now though it was time for the first of the trials. As she, Missandei, Ghost, and her Kingsguard made their way to the Throne Room, she once again pondered on the fates of those she was to sit in judgment over.
"My queen?" Missandei asked worriedly and Dany only then realized that they'd been talking a moment earlier before she'd gotten lost in her mind.
"Forgive me, Missy, my mind wandered."
"Is it to be the Lords of the West first, my queen?" Missandei asked and Dany nodded.
"Then the Lannisters themselves."
They were it turned out the hardest of all to deal with for her. With Tywin Lannister already dead and Cersei having taken her life, there was in truth little that could be proved as crimes against those that remained. Other than they had stood against them. She'd heard from Rhaegar and Ser Arthur about the reasoning behind Jaime Lannister's killing of her father. A short search of the tunnels underneath the Red Keep and elsewhere had then proved the truth of those words. Or as much of the truth as she was like to find. Work had begun to remove the still remaining threat but it had in a lot of ways caused her to change her mind about what she wished done with Jaime Lannister. His death was no longer the only course of action open to her it seemed.
Entering the Throne Room, she looked around to see the women in mid-curtsy and the men with their heads bowed. Walking up the steps, she turned to face them and then took her seat on the Iron Throne. Her seat as much as it was ever to be her husband's. Or so Rhaegar had practically demanded that she agree to. Their small half argument was still enough to bring a smirk to her face. His words now rang out in her head as she looked out on the great and good who had assembled to somewhat sit in judgment of her too.
"You are my queen, a true queen. We rule together, Dany. We rule together, for the burden is not one I can face alone."
With a nod of her head, the Lords of the West were brought in and she sat in judgment over them all. Practically all of them admitted their guilt and the only two who did not, very soon accepted it and then offered their oaths and agreed to pay restitution. Coin, the stripping of some lands, higher taxes for a number of years, and some restrictions on the number of men at arms they could gather. That along with the need for the Crown's permission for any matches they may seek to make were accepted with grace. Some of it was even good grace, she felt.
Then it was time for the Lannisters themselves and Jaime entered with his two children by his side. Both of whom looked terrified. Myrcella had gone from being a princess who was betrothed to a prince, to a girl with no idea of what future she may have. While Tommen now seemed to be even younger than he truly was. She was happy to see Jaime holding both their hand protectively and how close they seemed to be to their father. Even if that was not something that she knew had been confirmed by the man to them as of yet.
"Jaime Lannister, Myrcella Waters, Tommen Waters, you stand in the presence of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen," Missy called out authoritatively.
"Your grace," Jaime said with a bow of his head, his voice respectful and she thanked both Rhaegar and Arthur for it.
The Sword of the Morning had spoken up for Jaime after finding out the truth about his actions. As to her surprise had Rhaegar. He'd not told her what sentence the fallen knight deserved. Though he had suggested which one he'd pronounce on him and he was not alone in that. Prince Oberyn, Catelyn Stark, Sansa, and even her granduncle had all made their suggestions. Yet in the end, that was all they were, suggestions. It fell to her to decide and she'd thought long and hard about what to do with both the fallen knight and his children.
"Myrcella Waters, you are to stay in King's Landing as a ward of the crown. In time you'll find a place in my service and when you come of age, a suitable match will be made for you. One befitting both your newfound status and reflecting your former one." she said firmly.
The girl in question looked from her to her father, her uncle still, if he'd not confirmed the truth to her. With a nod of his head, she then stepped forward and curtsied.
"I thank you, your grace."
"Tommen Waters." she said and the young boy moved nervously forward "You are to be sent to Oldtown where you will study to become a Maester and on your sixth and tenth Nameday, you are to swear your oaths to the Citadel. Failure to do so will leave us with no choice but to sentence you to the Wall instead." she said and saw the boy shake but a little "However, we are not without mercy or compassion. So you may spend the next moon in the company of your sister until the time comes for you to depart."
"May I take my cats with me, your grace?" the boy asked almost childishly, something which she couldn't help but smile at.
"You may, young man."
With a look to his father and sister, a nod of their heads, and then his own, he thanked her, and then it was just Jaime Lannister left for her to deal with. To his credit, the man looked resolved to whatever fate she'd chosen for him and she doubted that even were she to seek his head that he'd argue or seek to fight against her will. Quietening down the angered voice that she'd name as Viserys' or even her father's and which demanded that Jaime face a fiery death, she breathed in deeply and then spoke.
"I have thought long and hard about your fate, Ser Jaime, long and hard. I'll not lie and say a part of me doesn't wish for your death."
"I understand, your grace."
"However, the truth of what happened on the day you slew my father is known to me and to my husband and while it's one that in truth would bring you some honor, your actions since then do not. I hereby sentence you to serve your time at the Wall, Ser Jaime. May they benefit from the skills you possess and may you find whatever redemption is left to you, there."
"Your grace," Jaime said with a bow of his head.
She watched as Jaime, Tommen and Myrcella were led from the Throne Room and she was about to nod for Olenna, Margaery and their family to be brought in, only for someone to pass a note to her granduncle and him to pale as he read it. Dany had no need to bid him speak to her about its contents, as he moved to her as soon as he did so and what he whispered in her ear soon had her head spinning in a thousand directions. Had Aemon not spoken to Missandei, then they'd have stayed there for who knew how long as she tried to come to terms with what he'd told her. Instead, the young girl stepped forward and brought the day's proceedings to an end.
Looking out at Prince Oberyn and others, she saw their confusion and so had Jorah arrange for the prince to join them in her solar in a few moments. She, Missandei, Ser Barristan, and Ghost along with her granduncle and Ser Richard Lonmouth, who she'd motioned to join them, now all hurried to her solar. Once inside, she took her seat and held the note aloft in her hand.
"This can't be true, can it?" she asked all of them, none of them, the gods or the world, she knew not who.
"Aegon died, niece. Of that, there is no doubt."
"Your grace?" Ser Barristan asked confused.
"Lord Varys, Tyrion Lannister, and Magister Illyrio Mopatis have arrived and now seek an audience. They claim to have my nephew with them."
"His grace traveled to the Wall, your grace." Ser Richard said just as confused as Barristan looked.
"Aegon. They claim that Aegon lives," she said disbelievingly.
"Impossible, your grace. All have heard the tale of the prince's death. Of the dishonor that was shown to his, his sister's, and their mother's bodies. I may not have been present in the Throne Room on that day, your grace, but I did see the bodies later." Ser Barristan said.
"Then who are they holding up as my kin, Ser?"
"An imposter, your grace. It can only be so." Ser Richard said while Dany looked to her Granduncle who had stayed silent.
"Uncle?"
"We have ways to prove our blood, niece. Should he be false we have ways of proving it so."
"And should it be true?" she asked to silence.
The Reach 299 AC.
Stannis Baratheon.
He'd thought long and hard about where to land and who to attack first. Had fought against competing ideas of simply arriving in Blackwater Bay and this time taking the city as it should have been taken the first time. The memories of his fleet in flames were enough to dissuade him finally of that idea. Stannis had considered landing in the North and taking what the boy who dared to usurp his rightful seat had once considered his home. Only for the practicalities of such to convince him to abandon that notion.
In truth, there was only ever one place that he could land in and one injustice that could be avenged. It had to be the Reach and Highgarden had to be his first true taking of a keep. Not only did the Tyrells owe him for their besieging of his home during Robert's Rebellion, but they owed him for Renly too. For without their support, their prodding and plotting, his brother would have not turned into the fool he had ended up being and Stannis would already sit on the Iron Throne as was his right and duty.
There were other reasons too of course. An army marched as much on its stomach as anything else and the Reach was still the most bountiful of all the lands in Westeros. Yet other than vengeance and the need for a good supply of food, it was coin more than anything that Stannis wished for. Though he was not a man of mirth, he'd not deny the fact that it brought a small contented smile to his face to think that he'd be using the Tyrell coffers to pay off most, if not all, of his debt to the Iron Bank. He only hoped that Mace and that withered old prune Olenna were still alive when he finally took King's Landing too. For he'd much enjoy seeing them once more.
He, his fleet, and the army it carried had set sail from Essos and found fair winds and good weather. They'd passed the Stepstones with no trouble. Had then sailed around Dorne and Stannis had found himself on the deck looking to the Dornish Sands and shuddering slightly. Armies had been lost far too easily while thinking they'd be the ones that would bend, break, and make the Dornish bow. It would not be his army's fate, and he'd eventually find another way to bring Doran Martell and Dorne to his side.
"Though what that way is, I know not," he had muttered as he left the deck and headed down to his cabin.
Once he'd decided upon the Reach and Highgarden, the actual landing site for his army then became an issue. His Goodfamily wished to retake their stolen home back from the Tyrells and so had wanted him to land as close to Brightwater Keep as possible. While some of the Golden Company's Serjeants had wanted the spoils of Oldtown and House Hightower for their own. He and Ser Davos had simply wished to avoid the Redwyne fleet for as long as they could. It was not a battle at sea that would bring him his throne or earn him glory, he had thought bitterly. Old memories of his victory against the Iron Born at Fair Isle and how little favor it had earned him, as always still burned in his mind.
The plan that he settled on was to land at the mouth of the Mander. From there, he'd give his Gooduncle Ser Axell two thousand men, half of them men from the Golden Company, to take back his family home. Another five thousand men led by Will and Dick Cole and with men of the Reach such as Laswell Peake and his brothers would march down the Roseroad. While Stannis and Harry Strickland along with his beloved elephants would march down the Ocean Road. Both forces would arrive at Highgarden and cut the keep off from any help it would gain from those south of it.
It left the north of Highgarden to be the only route of escape or path to aid for those inside the keep. So Ser Davos would sail the Mander leading a force of a thousand of Stannis' own men to cut off any retreat. He felt comfortable with his plan. More so when he and Melisandre looked into the flames of the fire and he saw himself standing atop Highgarden's parapets. The Golden Company had been there camped beneath him and his victory was all but assured. Though he'd still raised his doubts all the same.
"Can I trust these visions, my lady?" he asked.
"These visions are what brought you to where you now are, your grace. Had you not listened to my counsel, then we'd have found ourselves under attack in Dragonstone or besieged at Storm's End once more. Instead, you find yourself at the head of a great army and on the path to your true destiny. R'llor's chosen, The Prince that was Promised, Azor Ahai reborn."
He'd given into the temptation to lay with her once more. It had become something he felt no shame about even though he knew he should. The promise of what was to come, of the son that she'd finally give him, and of his destiny, were all over time becoming replaced simply by the desire for her that he felt. He wanted her, needed her, and so more and more, he took her just for those reasons and cared little about the others. For far too long he'd denied himself what he truly desired. But as she had said to him so very often, he was a king who had been chosen by a god. Such men deny themselves nothing.
A week later.
They had landed without incident. Stannis was once again amazed by the sheer efficiency of the Golden Company and how quickly they had not only disembarked but were ready to march too. After giving his orders one final time and allowing for his Gooduncle to write to his daughter at Horn Hill, the march through the Reach for true began.
Stannis had scouts and outriders ride on ahead of him and orders were given to shoot down any raven that flew. No matter the direction or reason for that flight. Lysono Marr had ridden far ahead of them with Ser Franklyn Flowers in his company. The Bastard of Cider Hall knew the lands well and had wished to be among those sent with Ser Davos, only to be overruled by Stannis himself. Vengeance was too powerful a mistress to those who put it before duty and while Stannis sought his own vengeance here, unlike Ser Franklyn, it was not at the cost of all else. Reluctantly the knight agreed and took comfort from the fact that Highgarden would not be the only keep that they took before their time in the Reach was done. Cider Hall too would more than likely fall before they looked to King's Landing itself.
Other than he himself or Melisandre who almost seemed giddy the closer they came to Highgarden, it was Shireen who was the happiest amongst them all. His daughter had greatly enjoyed her time in Essos. She'd been treated as the princess she was and should R'hllor be cruel and deny him a son, then it would fall to her to eventually rule over these and the rest of the lands in Westeros. It was good for her to see them even but once. Now that he knew her a little better than he had once done, he was certain that she'd remember each and every blade of grass or tree, copse, river, or stream that they passed.
"They say Highgarden has a labyrinth surrounding it. One filled with the sweetest of flowers and one that at first look seems naught but decoration." Shireen told them as they rode close to one another.
"Is it not?" he asked, though he knew full well the answer.
"No, father. It herds you into small groups and sends you off into areas far from the keep. Should you not know the route, then you'd find yourself far from the gates of Highgarden. A weak defense to some mayhap, but I believe it to be as true as high and strong walls."
"You do?"
"I do," Shireen said firmly.
"Then I shall take note of your concerns, daughter."
Closing his eyes even now, he could still see the beaming smile on her face. It was rare that he offered her kind words and though it was through no lack of love on his part and more simply his nature, he had begun to truly enjoy the few times he went against that nature. Her mother on he other hand misliked each and every mile they traveled. She was ill and full of discontent and he found he had not the time for her at all. He was happy to leave her to the care of Lady Melisandre and happier still to spend his nights alone looking over maps, rather than in her bed. Not that he spent his nights alone truly, he thought as he looked at Melisandre as she rode up from the back of the lines to join him.
"We shall reach Highgarden within the hour, my king," she said and he nodded, he'd known this already but was happy to have it confirmed.
"Have you looked to the flames?" he asked.
"I saw the same vision as last time, my king. You atop the parapets with your army camped beneath you."
"And the battle?" he asked.
"Swift and decisive."
In the end, there was to be no battle at all. They arrived to find the keep all but deserted. Worse than that, it had been stripped of its most valuable of treasures while the actual treasury had been taken. His first instinct had been to rant and rave. A part of him had almost cried out for the keep to be set ablaze and to watch it burn. To make of it an offering to R'hllor. Though in truth it was but a poor offering to his own sense of stolen justice. Yet he knew he could not. The keep was far too valuable and would be needed to bring someone to his side later on. An offering of another sort and one to no god.
They had better fortune when it came to the food stocks and so after feasting that night and celebrating a victory that truly wasn't one, Stannis found himself atop the parapets looking down on his army below him. His vision and hers had been proved true, but not in the way he'd wished for it to be. As he finally made his way to the rooms he'd chosen for himself and knew that she'd be waiting there for him, he wondered about the other visions he'd seen of himself and whether or not they too had a sting in the tail.
Would they come true but not how I wish them?
Am I a fool to place my faith in such things?
Is my true destiny to never get what I'm owed?"
These were the thoughts that plagued his mind as he entered his rooms. Yet the sight of her there as she lay naked atop his bed. Seeing her as she slowly opened her legs and showed him the wonders that lay between them. Soon had his worried thoughts fading away.
"Come to me, my king," she said seductively and all else but her was lost to him.
King's Landing 299 AC.
Prince Oberyn Martell.
He'd thought long and hard about what, if any, role he'd take in a Small Council. Doran wished for Dorne to have a presence in the capital and at the Red Keep and he had much enjoyed his time with the new king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In time, he knew he'd grow bored and weary of this city and its people, but for now, he was happy enough to stay and play his part. In the end, he surprised even himself when it was Master of Coin he sought to be appointed to rather than some other role. Ellaria was still not sure why it was that he wished for that role. As for his daughters, they were even more confused than his paramour over his choice.
Coin though gave him insight into each and every one of the Seven Kingdoms. It allowed him to see what the priorities of the new king and queen were and to direct help where it was needed. Should Dorne be getting short-changed, then he'd be the first to know about it. So while Master of Whisperers intrigued him and Master of Laws was probably what everyone expected him to ask to be, he'd asked for and been accepted as the new Master of Coin.
After swearing fealty on behalf of himself, Doran and Dorne, he'd been invited to the first Small Council meeting and had found the new queen to be just as capable as her husband. Daenerys, to his mind, was probably even more suited to this aspect of ruling than Rhaegar was. Though he'd yet to see him in the same circumstances and his wife was just as capable atop a dragon's back as he. Mayhap they were both equally suited, he thought. It was a strange thought and one that pleased him somewhat to consider after he had left the meeting and readied himself for the trials.
"What will they do to Myrcella, father?" Tyene asked as they walked together.
"I know not, though I cannot see them punishing her too severely."
"You think they have no stomach for such, father? "Obara asked.
"I think we saw how much they had a stomach for with Tywin, did we not?" he asked in return to nods of his daughter's heads "With Myrcella though, she's as much an innocent as any. Both she and her brother are not as guilty as others of their blood."
He'd been right, the two children were treated more than fairly and far better than any who'd have fallen under their grandfather's judgment. Oberyn though still tried and failed to stop the feelings that arose when he thought of his sister, niece, and nephew. It was as he was dealing with those once again raised feelings that he was asked to attend the queen in her chambers. He was left in no doubt that this was as close to an order as would be given to him and so he found himself hurrying with his guards and those sent to fetch him. He was more than eager to find out just what was important enough to demand his presence. Little knowing just what he was about to find out and how angered he then felt about it.
"This is impossible." he declared loudly after reading the note.
"We believe so too, Prince Oberyn." Aemon Targaryen said, though Oberyn barely heard him.
"Varys expects us to believe this horseshit?" he asked no one in particular, instead he looked back down at the note he held in his hand and felt his blood rise once more.
His nephew, his sister's son. Aegon secretly stolen away from the Red Keep under Aerys' nose. Taken to Essos where he was raised in secret under the tutelage of Jon Connington and supported by a Cheesemonger named Illryio Moptatis. It was a fantastical story and one that he'd be more than hopeful about were it not for the glaring issues contained within it. The first of those being the man who supposedly was the architect behind this entire plan, Varys.
Only a fool would trust Varys, and Oberyn was no fool. For him to say that he'd stolen his nephew away and secreted him to safety was enough to make him doubt it alone. Yet even that wasn't the biggest issue he had with the words written on the note. Instead, it was those left unsaid that gave him even more pause.
Why?
Why after doing this was Dorne not informed?
Why would Varys not tell him or Doran that their nephew lived?
What reason could there be to keep this from them?
As the questions resounded in his head, he didn't notice how long he'd been quiet for or that he was the only one who was being so. Was it not for the queen's touch to his hand which held the note, then he'd have mayhap stood there for an age.
"Forgive me, your grace. This news it…."
"Is a lot to take in, I know, Prince Oberyn. For I feel it too."
"Feel what, your grace?" he asked confused.
"The hope that it's true," Daenerys replied and he looked at her incredulously.
"You cannot mean.."
"We have so few of our family, Prince Oberyn. Rhaegar, me, Shiera and Aemon. I am with child, mayhap even twins, and yet I'd still welcome more of my blood in this world."
He smiled at her, offered her his congratulations about the babe or babes she carried, and then spoke of his doubts that this boy, whoever he was, could be his nephew.
"Oh, I have mine own doubts too, Prince Oberyn. As have my granduncle and Sers Barristan and Richard." Daenerys said as Oberyn looked at all three men and saw those doubts clearly in their expressions.
"Mayhap it would do us all some good to express those doubts here and now, my prince." Ser Richard Lonmouth said and Oberyn nodded as he took a seat.
He spoke first, his words about Varys bringing firm nods of agreement from both Ser Richard and Ser Barristan. When he spoke about Dorne and why they were not being told that Aegon lived made no sense, it was the queen herself who asked the question.
"Would they not have hidden this from you for Aegon's safety? Such as was agreed with Rhaegar's uncle, Lord Reed, and Ser Arthur in regards to his own hiding from view."
"Yet his uncle knew the truth of him, your grace. I know little of Eddard Stark and care to know even less. Yet as an uncle, I'd wager the truth of his nephew offered him some comfort. Knowing a piece of his sister lived on, that he had survived even when she had not. That he had more family in the world. Surely that helped to fill some of the hole in his heart that his sister's loss had placed there." he said and saw what seemed like reluctant nods from Ser Barristan, Ser Richard, and Aemon, though no nod at all from the queen.
"Would they not fear that your knowledge would somehow lead to his discovery, my prince? Put both he and Dorne in danger?" Ser Richard asked.
"You know of the agreement signed between Ser Willem Darry and Dorne, Ser Richard?" he asked to a shake of the man's head "Aemon?" who nodded.
"My nephew told me of it after you'd met, Prince Oberyn."
"But until then not a single one of you in this room was even aware of it, am I right?"
"You are." the queen said.
"Dorne is well placed to keep secrets from the crown, Ser Richard. Especially when we're at odds with the man who sits on the Iron Throne. For years we plotted our revenge for what was done to my sister and her children. My brother is the most patient of men, which is a good thing as I am very much not." he said to some laughs "No, us knowing would not have put Aegon in danger. If anything it would have given us an even bigger cause to fall behind."
"And this man, this Mopatis, you know little of him?" Aemon asked to a shake of Oberyn's head.
"I know much of him," Daenerys said and Oberyn listened as she told a tale of her time with the Magister.
Were he not already doubtful of Aegon being true, then the words the queen spoke about the Magister would certainly fill him with many doubts about the man's motivations. Finding out that he had housed both Daenerys and her brother and had been the one to arrange her marriage to a Dothraki Khal was enough for that. It made no sense to him that this man had Aegon secreted away and yet took in the two Targaryen children too. For if it had been found out that he was hiding them, then it would have put Aegon, who none knew lived, in danger.
That not a word was spoken about Aegon to either Daenerys or Viserys, only added to his doubts and he could see naught but Varys' hands all over this. He told the queen as much and then was surprised by what she suggested. Or more that she wished for him to carry out the subterfuge. He asked her out straight what she'd do if it turned out that somehow this was the truth. She gave him no answer, other than to say that she was and would never be a Kinslayer and neither was her husband.
"Other than that, I know not, Prince Oberyn."
So rather than an audience in front of the queen or a private meeting with her and her advisers, it was to be a meeting with him and his family that Aegon was invited to. A meeting to be held in Chataya's and for once one without entertainment. He, Ellaria, and his girls sat and waited for some time until finally, they arrived. Varys looked exactly as he had when last he'd seen him. The Eunuch was wearing a smug smile on his face as behind him a man, whose girth would put you off your meal were you unlucky enough to be eating, waddled into the large open room. He was followed by Jon Connington, whose red hair now had streaks of grey in it and who bore the same scowl that he always had, and then finally by the man they named as his nephew.
Aegon had long silver hair and his eyes seemed bluer than purple to Oberyn's own. He was tall and lithe and built very much like he remembered Rhaegar to be. There was little of Elia in him, even when he smiled, and yet he'd be a liar if he said that he didn't feel a little jolt upon seeing him. When he spoke, it was with an Essosi accent and that at least broke the spell somewhat. Hearing him name him uncle, Ellaria as an aunt, and his girls as his cousins, was somewhat heart-wrenching as Oberyn had imagined this moment many times over the years. Both his nephew and niece along with their mother, all of them greeting them on Dragonstone, King's Landing, or in Dorne. Smiles all around as Elia's children and his own got better acquainted. It was a dream of something that could never be and yet a version of it was playing out in front of his eyes. Albeit a false one.
"Uncle," Aegon said moving to him and despite his doubts, Oberyn embraced him warmly.
"Aegon, there is much we must speak of. It's good to see you, nephew," he said, his eyes on Varys, Illyrio Mopatis, and Jon Connington and not on the imposter he embraced.
Beyond the Wall 299 AC
Ōñosmaghare.
He flew over lands that had never been traveled by a dragon of fire before. His rider, the girl his rider loved so much, his rider's kin, their protector, and the old magic's servant were all on his back. The snow-covered ground beneath them was passed by in barely an instant. Ōñosmaghare liked this place not. it felt foreboding to him and were it not for his rider's reassurance and the need he felt from his rider's kin, then he'd have sought to travel south and not north. Far behind him, his brothers could no longer be felt by him, nor could he sense the hatchlings and he liked it not.
Yet onward he flew and he did so without rest, without landing. Suddenly he felt a calm come over him. A sense that all was well in the world and that while he was in lands that were not made for a dragon such as him, he was still to be feared here as much as he was in the lands he'd left behind. Ōñosmaghare reached out for his rider and through their bond, he was comforted even more. His rider told him that yes, it was true that there were things in this land that wished to harm them both, but they would find them more than a match for them should they try.
It gave him the strength to fly to their destination and when he finally landed, he felt that calm come over him again. There was power in this place, old power. A magic of the like that he'd felt only on the cold island that he'd made his home and within his rider. it called out to him, spoke to him, told him that his arrival had long been awaited. Within moments of landing, his rider was in front of him, his hand brushing over his snout as he stared deep into his eyes. his words were as they had been since the first time that Ōñosmaghare had heard them, all he needed.
"There is a darkness in these lands, Ōñosmaghare. But together you and I will bring the light. You are the Lightbringer and it is our destiny."
He felt more or the old magic's servants move toward him. Their movements reassured him and when they placed the food in front of him, he ate it hungrily. His rider bid him wait and told him that he would return quickly. That they would not dally for long in these lands and Ōñosmaghare welcomed those words. Tired though he was, he didn't sleep, he wouldn't. Calmer and more comforted he may be, but he could still feel it off in the distance. The Darkness moved in their direction and though for now, it seemed far off, he'd be ever vigilant should it come too close.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I want to thank everyone who wished me well these past few weeks. The operation was a complete success and my eye is better than it's ever been,
For those following my other fics, Revenge is a Dish best served Cold, is to be updated next.
Missed reviews.
Weedisdaboss: Thanks so much for saying so, I wanted a way to give the dragons a personality and I'm really glad it's coming across well.
Selenapotter: I did consider that at one point, but went a different way as you may have seen.
Kkleengirl: Yeah, I completely messed that up. I did mean it to be the Greatjon and don't know why I'd done it the other way. I meant to go back and fix it but forgot to do so. Thanks for reminding me, I can go correct it now. Much appreciated.
Vaibhavsingh4Jan: It's not that I have a thing against Robb. More that in literally every single story, this part of things is simply glossed over. Either Robb kneels without question or Jon simply allows the North its independence and Robb to keep his crown. That to me is unrealistic and so I wanted to explore what way I think things could play out. When you consider that despite the love the two brothers clearly had for each other, there was this big gap between them in terms of status, that's a big obstacle to overcome.
The line about their argument and Jon naming himself as Lord of Winterfell during a spar and Robb then saying he couldn't be because he was a bastard. His calling him Snow (yes it's supposed to be an affectionate term, but it's also a reminder of his bastard surname) shows that the gap was well in effect. To then flip the switch so to speak, to change the dynamics between them so dramatically, it takes some getting used to. Add to that, distance, other voices in Robb's ears, and Jon not coming directly to speak to Robb and it allows for events to play out how I've played them out, IMO.
More than anything though, it was because it's always been done the same two ways in almost all the fics, I wanted to do things differently.
One last point. My one issue with Robb is not trading Jaime for his sisters. Now I understand the politics of it, and that it was to keep his men on his side. But he later gives not a damn about the politics with his marriage, and while I have some issues with Cat, on this I'm in her corner. Once Ned died, then getting the girls back was the true objective, Robb though never had a true objective which is why in the end he could never win.
Hope that explains my thoughts clearly.
Chapter 22 reviews.
Finkarhu: So glad you liked it.
Celexys: I do have big plans in regards to Aegon which will play out over the next couple of chapters.
Lannister: Wir werden sehen, ob die Lannister sich selbst erlösen können. Ihr Schicksal ist nicht so schlimm, wie es hätte sein können Ich arbeite an einer neuen Fic, die in einem Monat herauskommen sollte, wo Jon der Sohn von Cersei und Rhaegar ist und von Tywin in Casterly Rock aufgezogen wird, es könnte dir mehr befallen.
Daryl Dixon: So very glad you enjoyed it.
Rhatch: I do have some fun plans with the fAegon subplot, it may not go how people expect.
Don't Like Accts: That's an interesting idea, I've tried to show him in that way and not in the usual arrogant or entitled way as I do have some fun plans in store. You're spot on about Dorne. They have their agreement in place here and Oberyn in particular has been given the sweetest of revenge by Jon/Dany. In canon, I think Oberyn living is the biggest barrier to Faegon ever being accepted. For me, he'd know he was false which I've tried to show here, and he'd never go along with lying that he was Elia's son. Now of course, in canon, Oberyn is dead by the time Faegon turns up and Doran I think is a different matter. He, I could see going along with it, as long as Arianne is queen and then maybe sometime later, once an heir was born, killing the impostor.
Dunk: Very much so. The thing with the Free Folk is that for me it doesn't really take a huge amount to do a deal with them, all it truly takes is for someone to put their case forward. Here it's both Benjen and in a way Bloodraven and so despite what Rhaegar himself may think, he's going to do that deal more than likely. There are huge flaws in Varys' plans, him being involved is actually a detriment as is Illyro too. But I do have some fun things in store with it, or I think they're fun anyway. Yes, there has to be a proper coronation and I wanted to have Faegon in King's Landing before it, rather than after it. Cat and Sansa too, though when next we truly see them it'll be more the Ned Dayne match that will be on their minds.
VwChick: You bring up a great point about both Aemon and Shiera. One of them, Aemon, is trying to secure his House for the future, while the other, Shiera, is working on an even longer and more important plan than that, so neither would be keen on Rhaegar/Dany stepping aside.
Princess of Greenwood: Your wish is my command.
Myarfoatemydog: So glad you liked it.
00-Night-eyes-00: So happy you enjoyed it.
Spstrader: Faegon will be anything but mad and there are ways to prove him false. The Dragons are one, the lack of any true proof is another and those on Jon/Dany's side can attest to his death too. But I do have some fun plans in store.
Tfranco: Stannis is a definite threat, the Wall is lesser, for now at least. As for Faegon, there are numerous ways to prove him false, so we'll see. One good thing about Dany is that she's a fighting queen, so it's not like Rhaegar has left the realm defenseless by going to the Wall, she can handle things if needed.
Dizzy Will Beth: There will definitely be coin paid in retribution by those who've been defeated. As for Faegon, we'll see, though it won't be something as simple as a birthmark, it'll be more than that. But there will be undeniable proof offered. We'll get Jon Connington's thoughts next too.
Theseumata359: So very glad you liked it.
Drucifer000: You're more than welcome.