Heir of Ice and Fire

by Ronin2106

Of the twin Bastards of Winterfell, Jayce has always been the wild one, always with a sharp wit and remark and no regard for rules, which saw him sent from Winterfell to White Harbor as ward. Yet when the Greyjoys rebel, Jayce Snow finds himself as a a sudden hero, and a ward to Laenor Velaryon, heir of Driftmark, and Rhaegar's once good friend, who vows to protect his only son.

3. Chapter 3

Three and a half months after the Tourney at Lannisport. North. Winterfell.

The preparations were completed and executed as per the instructions of Catelyn Tully, who was left in charge and command of Winterfell and its servants and people during the absence of her husband. And while she was relieved and happy to finally have him returning home after this war, much like after the Rebellion, there is much that she is displeased with, mayhaps even more so than she had been the last time. If the last time he had brought with him the proof of his shame and dishonor, those two bastards, Jayce and Jon, than this time he was returning with neither, yet now the worst of those two bastards was not just alive, but hailed as a hero, elevated through legitimization and as if to add even more salt to her wounded pride, was made into an official page of King Robert Baratheon for a time!

It was no great secret that Catelyn Stark, formerly Tully, had no love for her husband's bastards, like all righteous and true women in her position did, nor was she required to love them. Bastards are products of sin and lust, greedy and ambitious by their corrupt nature and always seeking to rise above their deserved station, and Jayce Snow seemed to exemplify those traits. Never one to conform, always striving in studies, training and other activities, always eager to stand out from all others, especially if casted a shadow on her own children, most true with Robb, for Jayce seemed to never pass up a chance to show off at Robb's expense. This had made Catelyn hate that boy all the more, for she knew that in his dark and twisted heart and mind, he desired what he could not have- Winterfell and the North, and this had made him the greatest threat to her children in Catelyn's mind.

If his little brother Jon was at least tolerable thanks to his seeming acceptance of his standing, then Jayce a complete opposite, in attitude and in his desires, and now… Now Catelyn was fully convinced in her beliefs that Jayce was the main threat to her, to her children, and even to her family of Tully. When he had so publically beaten Robb, she has had enough and demanded that Ned send him away, preferably to the Wall, yet instead he sent him to House Manderly, arguably the second strongest House in the North. It was an honor that the bastard did not deserve, and when the news reached her of the death of Ser Wylis Manderly, for whom the bastard squired, she felt relieved to be rid of him. But then… Then the news began to pour in of Jayce's heroics, first at Oldtown, and then much later on Pyke, of the honors and glory he covered himself in, and worst of all, the nightmare that Catelyn feared the most would come to be true- legitimization.

This was one thing that Catelyn could not allow, to have that bastard now be second in line for the seat of Winterfell and all of the North, so when she heard the news, she immediately sent out letters to her father, brother, Lord Arryn and Ned, demanding and pleading to see the decision rescinded. She did so throughout the entirety war, yet her replies were always same ones, claiming that nothing could be done, and in her failure to achieve that, she turned her ire towards one thing that could give her a suitable outlet- Jon Snow.

If before she was merely content with ignoring and glaring at him whenever he entered her sight, then from the moment Jayce became Stark, her wroth magnified and turned to the boy, as she verbally lashed out at him, punished him for every single slight, imagined or not. She deprived him of his amenities, publically shamed him on every occasion she had, forced him out of warmth of his chambers and denied him the wood to warm his small quarters, ordered his food to be spoiled and uncooked. She used every excuse and way to make Jon Snow miserable, seeing in him his own brother, and that brought a degree of satisfaction to Catelyn. And when soon it was discovered that the boy had caught a pox, Catelyn saw this not as warning from the gods, but as a blessing, hence she had ordered the Maester not to have him treated, as well as to fully isolate and deprive him of any contact with anyone, even to the point that he would not have wood, medicine, food or water brought to him.

When after a week of such isolation the door into his isolated room was opened, and Catelyn saw his thin, blue, pox-ridden body, she did not feel regret, only satisfaction and belief that she was right, and when she ordered the boy's body burnt, she smiled when she saw the smoke rising on the horizon. When it was all done, Catelyn forbade people from even talking of Jon or Jayce, and when Arya cried and called her cruel, she punished her by slapping her cheek, while dismissing every maid or servant who dared to speak of her like was a monster. They couldn't understand that she was protecting her family, but that didn't excuse them, and so Catelyn did all she could to protect the station and position of her children, or at least that is what she did her mind.

However, all her hopes and dreams of having the other bastard die were crushed now, and what was worse, the boy seemingly held more respect and love from the King than even his own firstborn. The Lords and Ladies of the North and now South were in awe of him, and he had even dared to humiliate her family, when he stole Edmure's trophy from battle, as well publically shame the House Tully in front of all other lords. At that point, after reading Edmure's letter, she started to suspect that Jayce wished to make war with them, if only to seize what he always wished, but when she heard again from her brother and father, of how Jayce won the squire's tourney at Lannisport and was personally praised by Tywin Lannister and offered victor's triumph… Then Catelyn became convinced that Jayce indeed intended to take Winterfell, and now made friends and allies in form of Lannisters.

She would not have it, not if she could help it, and she meant to put an end to it right away, for she was Lord Stark's wife, and Ned would listen to her. And just as he rode into the main courtyard with other lords and ladies of the North, Catelyn and all others bowed before him, before she addressed him.

"Welcome back, milord husband. Winterfell is yours." Catelyn addressed him, as she held her little son Bran in her arms, with Ned nodding to her reservedly. "We are all glad you have returned safely from this war."

"And I am glad to see you all well." Ned responded, as he looked at his children. "Robb, I see you have grown even taller. Soon enough you shall be taller than I am." Ned noted with a smile.

"Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik are most pleased and impressed with Robb's progress in matters of stewardship and martial prowess. He has all the right makings of the true Lord of Winterfell." Catelyn added with pride, with Ned simply nodding to it.

"Aye, I am sure he does." Ned was about to move to Sansa, before noticing that Arya's eyes were red and she was sobbing, moving to her and kneeling before her. "Arya, what is wrong? Did someone hurt you?" Arya turned with tears in her eyes towards Ned.

"N-no, but y-you didn't bring Jayce back…" She said through her tears and sobs.

"Arya, shut up!" Sansa called out to her harshly. "We don't speak of the bastard." Sansa reminded her, with Ned and others immediately picking it up.

"Of what bastard, girl? Did you not hear that your brother is now a Stark, by royal decree and privelage, as well as the right of deeds and valor?" Dacey Mormont called to her and Lady Stark.

"Aye, as pure a Stark as any other here." Rickard Karstark added, getting off his horse. "Not in the hair, mayhaps, but in spirit and heart truly."

"Th-then wh-why y-you didn't b-bring him h-home?" Arya sobbed again to her father. "I-Is it because M-Mama t-told you n-not to…"

"Arya, I… Jayce… Jayce did not want to come, he…" Eddard tried to explain, but Arya broke into a shout.

"NO! You lie! I hate you! I hate you both! You hate him Jayce, just Mama does!" And after that explosive shout, Arya rushed away, with some of the maids running after her.

"I will see her reprimanded for it, milord, such a display, it is…" Catelyn tried to speak up, but Ned stopped her.

"You will do no such thing, Catelyn." Ned suddenly told her with a cold tone. "You've done enough of that already." He added with an even colder tone, which surprised Catelyn, for she had never heard her husband speak to her in such a tone.

From then, the feast was hosted for all of the guests, and Catelyn had to through even more of the humiliation, as she witnessed nearly ever Lord of the North raise their cups many times in honor of the thrice damned bastard. In her home, right before her eyes and underneath her roof, they were toasting and singing praises of his valor and courage, all the while openly and not stating how he was a true Stark, as if hinting that her children were not. One of the Ladies, Barbrey Dustin, even dared to state that mayhaps Jayce is older than Robb, as if meaning to say that it should be him inheriting Winterfell. And all throughout these feasting, Catelyn expected Ned to put a stop to these words, and yet he did nothing, and in fact, he barely said a word to her after courtyard, and whenever she tried to speak, he only gave her cold indifference or even wrathful eye, as if she had somehow displeased him.

This confused Catelyn to no end, and she has had not a chance to speak with Ned alone, and when she waited for him in their bedchambers, hoping to welcome him in a more private way, he dared not show again. She waited for him for more than an hour until one of the servants came and stated that Lord Stark was in his solar, and was waiting for her. Putting on whatever warm clothes she could hurriedly, Catelyn arrived to his door, which was opened by the guard, letting her in, before closing it behind her. There, she found Ned looking out into the distance of the night through the window, seemingly unaware of her presence here, so she decided to make it known.

"Milord, I have been expecting you in our bedchambers." Catelyn reminded him, but it had no effect, as he simply stared into the distance. "Ned, is something the matter? You have barely said a word to me tonight." Catelyn decided to try a direct approach, and it had him turning to face her.

"I do not know, Catelyn. Mayhaps you can tell me, if there is a matter." He told her with seemingly hidden wroth.

"I do not know what you mean. If this is about what Arya said, I will talk to her and…" Catelyn tried to continue, but Ned didn't let her.

"You will not speak to Arya, and she is only part of the matter. Now, sit." He ordered her with a tone that she never heard him use on her.

"Ned, what is this?" She asked of him, refusing to do as he told her.

"This is about me ordering you to sit down." Ned practically growled out, and Catelyn finally complied. "When I left Winterfell, I left in your care not just our children, but also my household, my home, and also Jon. When I left for war, I knew that I could not expect you to be affectionate, or even amicable with him, but I at least expected you to be civil with him, and care for him. Yet, now, even before I return home, I hear from ladies and households of the North, of exactly what you did to Jon, Cat." He said the last word with so much anger that Catelyn almost expected him to lash out at her.

"Ned, I certainly do not know what you are talking about. If this is about the boy's death, then there is no hand of mine in it. The Gods deemed to punish him and so they did and…" Catelyn meant to continue, but Ned interrupted her.

"The gods may have sent the pox upon him, but it was not the pox that deprived him of his food, water, warmth and even his goddamned bed!" He shouted at her finally snapping. "Tell me, Cat: did you really think that I would not learn of what you did?! That suddenly all of the North has grown blind and deaf?! Mine may be the sparsest of the realms, Cat, but people here talk and hear just as well as they do in Riverlands. So tell me, milady, what in the bloody world had possessed you to lash out at my son like you did?!" Eddard Stark shouted with wroth at Catelyn demanding a straight answer, with Catelyn looking at him with her own anger rising, which she did not manage to control fully.

"Do you need to ask me, my husband? If you are asking what I was thinking, then let me ask you of what were you thinking, when you've allowed the King to make that bastard a Stark?!" She said with poison and fury, with Eddard realizing what this was all about.

"So, you've grown to hate Jayce so much that you would lash out your spite and scorn at his brother?! Have you forgotten, Catelyn, that they are my sons too?!" Eddard shouted at her.

"And have you forgotten that Robb is your first son, and your true heir, yet you've allowed that vile, greedy son of a whore to…" At that moment, Eddard did something that may haunt him in the future.

He unleashed his anger and fury, as he slapped Catelyn hard across her face, shocking himself and her in the process, and his first impulse was to ask her forgiveness, but that was gone the next moment, as he spoke to her again.

"Never talk of Jayce or Jon in that way again and call their mother that way again." Eddard told her as sternly as one could, as she recovered from the shock. "Despite what you may think, I haven't forgotten that Robb is my heir, yet from what I saw before the war and now, I now see why some of my lords do not see him as fit for that role."

"So... D-does that mean that you will see him replaced, with that… that boy?" Catelyn spat it out like one spits out blood. "I will not stand for it. My father and brother, they won't stand for it, nor will Jon Arryn! I am warning you, Eddard Stark that if you dare to even think of replacing our son with that sinful creature then I…"

"The last thing I would do is seek that, but with this madness of yours so bloody clear, I am starting to think that this is a good idea!" Eddard's powerful voice made it clear what he thought of her. "You've starved and froze my son to death, out of bloody spite for his brother's accomplishments! Do not lie to me, for I already know that it was not pox that killed him, but hunger and frost, and you burnt the evidences. Now tell me: do you really think that I'll trust you again after this, or better yet, trust you with our children?" The implication that Ned was making to Catelyn was as sound as ringing of the steel.

"Ned, y-you can't mean it… I am your lawful wife, mother of your children, married in front of the gods and…" Catelyn would've continued to recount, but one look from Ned was enough to shut that tirade down. "My father won't stand for it, nor will Jon Arryn. Have you forgotten already who they are?"

"No, I have not, and your father, as well as your brother, has all but nearly seen me and Robert dead on the Pyke, and had it not been for Jayce, I may well be food for seagulls." Eddard stated to her with steel. "And as for Jon… He may not like it, but even he will understand my reasons, and Robert will all but approve of it."

"So you are getting rid of me to see your bastard with that Dornish whore made into the heir officially?!" Catelyn all but screeched, before Ned's fist slammed into the table.

"MY HEIR IS ROBB, BUT IF HE IS AS MAD AS YOU ARE NOW, THEN I'LL BLOODY WELL MAKE JAYCE HIS REPLACEMENT!" Eddard Stark snapped at Catelyn, as his eyes showed that he was bloody well ready to murder her. "I'll raise Robb to be a proper Heir of Winterfell, not like you wished to make him. Sansa and Arya too need to learn what it means to be of the North, and not what you intended for them... You have three days to say your goodbyes and remove yourself from Winterfell. I'll grant you escort till you reach your maiden home of Riverrun." Catelyn could not believe her ears, this couldn't be happening to her, she thought.

"Ned, you can't, I am your wife. You married me for…" She tried to plead.

"I married you only because I wished to avenge my family and safe my sister, and now… Now your father spouted lies of my son, your brother stole from him and nearly saw us all killed, while their daughter killed my son in my own house." Eddard stated to Catelyn with a sigh. "I now see why my mother was of bad mind towards you and your house. You may leave now."

"I won't leave just like that, Ned! You can't denounce and divorce me like this! The Faith of the Seven…"

"To Seven Hells your bloody Faith and all your bloody Seven Gods! Get out, now!" Eddard shouted at her, and Catelyn finally rose up and stormed away from her husband's solar, while Eddard let out a tired sigh, put up his cloak and headed out as well, but in opposite direction than his wife.

It did not take him long to find himself in front of the crypt, before the his sister's tomb and statue, which he had not visited in quite a long while, probably since he had sent Jayce away to Manderly as a ward, though in truth he knew it was to placate his wife. He knew well of the seething hatred Catelyn had towards Jayce, and in truth, after all of his showing offs, he feared for him and so sent him away, and now… Now he realized that he either should've better protected him from Catelyn, or done the same for Jon. Yet he did none of that, not being decisive and instead trying to mediate, but now it was impossible to do so, not after what Catelyn had done, and after the news of all that had spread around the North.

It was never a secret to Ned that Catelyn was not well loved in the North, for she was always considered to be far too southern and disrespectful, and who thought too lowly of them, not to mention the fact that the circumstances of their marriage were not ideal. In the eyes of great many Lords and Ladies of the North, Hoster Tully simply used the situation to see his daughters wed and secure himself alliances, before he would commit to anyone, and as Ned remembered well enough, the man had made it clear, that he if he did not accept, he would readily commit for the crown. Despite such a forced alliance and marriage, Ned did try to make it work, for all their sakes, but it seems that this was not to be, and the cost of this was Jon.

At first when he heard of it, Ned thought that Jon indeed had died of pox and Catelyn acted out fear that the ailment may spread, but as soon as he gotten to White Harbor and met with Wyman, he heard of Catelyn's actions. To say that the man was shocked to hear such things would be an understatement, but closer to he got to Winterfell, more keeps and villages he visited and people spoke, it became clear that it was no baseless rumor, and when he got home, he learned the full extent of it all. Ned asked and spoke with people he could fully depend and trust, and they told him the truth, and he learned of the kind of madness that possessed Catelyn, and from that point on, he knew that there was no alternative, not after what she had done…

"Of all the things… I should've known, Lya, I… I am so sorry, Lya…" Ned said with shame in his tone, as he lowered his head before her statue. "If only I had known…"

"None could've expected her to do what she did, and certainly not you, Ned. Lya would understand that too." Ned Stark turned his head and saw his younger brother walking closer to him, a flagon in his hand, which he extended to Ned. "Here, from what I heard, you need it more than I do." Ned took the flagon and drank from it, tasting the wine on his tongue and how it warmed his throat.

"Was I that loud?" He asked of his brother.

"I'd say that at least half of the North heard your voice tonight. Now I understand why Brandon always said that out of all of us, you had mightiest roar." Benjen noted, taking the flagon and drinking from it.

"Do you think I did the right thing?" Ned asked of Benjen.

"If you ask me if I know that you were right, then I can't say if you were or not. If it were me in your place… I would've killed her for what she did to Jon." Benjen stated with grim tone, as he sipped more of wine. "When I heard of what she did, I was damn near ready to desert the Watch, just to do it… Mormont stopped me before I could, made it clear that sooner or later, you would see the justice done."

"And do you think I did just that? Saw the justice done?" Ned asked of Ben. "I promised Lya to protect them, Ben, and instead of that, I allowed my own wife to mistreat and near abuse them, and when Jayce started to gain glory, she… Of all the things she could do, this was the last one." Ned grabbed the flagon and drank from it.

"Aye, so did I." Benjen agreed, as he looked at Lya's statue. "But it had to be done, for else it would be the Lords and Ladies who would demand it of you, though I'm surprised they hadn't already. Guess they were far happier to toast to Jayce and his many deeds." Benjen said with a smile, as he thought fondly of his nephew.

"Aye, they were, like they did in Lannisport and Pyke, and I'm proud to have raised my cup for him." Eddard said with a small smile. "You should've seen him, Ben. The lords looked at him as if he were Brandon, and Robert… Robert was ready to knight him on the Pyke, and even Tywin Lannister had spoken well of him, after he trashed all those boys at Lannisport." Ned chuckled at the memory.

"I heard of that, as well as how he killed both of Balon's brothers at Oldtown, and how he saved your and Robert's arses." Ben smiled at that, as he looked at Lya's statue. "Do you think he'll be alright with Velaryons? Do you trust them to not use him?"

"Laenor and his father gave me their word that they would never do something like that, and Laenor looks at Jayce as he was his own son." Ned said with a sigh. "And this… This is what Jayce himself wanted. I wanted him to come to Winterfell, to at least say goodbye or spend some more time with his family, but… After he learned of Jon, I fear that he may have lost something that made him of North."

"I doubt he stopped being of the North, just because of that. No, he probably wishes to try and find his own place in the world." Benjen noted, as he drank from the flagon. "He always said that he never felt like a Stark, at least not fully, and that out of the two of them, it should be Jon who should be a Stark."

"They both are Starks." Ned said instead, drinking from the taken flagon. "Starks and Targaryens…" He said aloud, as he and Benjen stayed there for a while longer.

---

Three months later. Blackwater Bay. Driftmark. High Tide.

The main seat of House Velaryon was the mighty castle of pale white stone, with slender towers and sloped roofs with beaten silver, situated on a small islet connected to Driftmark proper by a causeway, while also being made in a form that would lend itself well to defending from sea and land. The High Tide was first raised by Lord Corlys Velaryon, the legendary Sea Snake, who made his House into the richest and most prosperous of all in Westeros, and though it was sacked and put to the torch along with nearby Spice Town, the castle and the town were rebuilt by Lord Alyn "Oakenfist" Velaryon just a decade or so later. Since then, Velaryons have carefully followed the tenants of their glorious ancestors, ensuring the continued prosperity and enrichment of House Velaryon and Driftmark, as well as their vassals on the island. The Velaryons also maintained their original seat of Driftmark Castle, which situated in the opposite eastern end of the island, while High Tide was on the western side, representing the Velaryons as guardians of both ends of the Blackwater Bay.

Lord Lucerys was yet another Lord of the Tides who continued on the course set by his ancestors, engaging in trade and seafaring that had made Velaryons prosperous and ensured that their future generations would have the means to tame the tides. Robert's Rebellion and subsequent bending the knee to Stannis and Robert Baratheons changed quite little in that regard and things stayed relatively the same, though now Lucerys and Laenor would need to travel to Dragonstone from time to time, to pay respects and lip service to Stannis. Jayce, who turned 10 years old in Lannisport, had also accompanied them to Dragonstone on a couple of such occasions, with Stannis paying some attention to him each time as well, but aside from that and a few trips to the capitol and other Houses of Crownlands, he had remained on Driftmark ever since the tourney at Lannisport.

The tourney itself was as spectacular of an affair as a man of status and riches like Tywin Lannister could organize in honor of the victory over the Greyjoys, along with showing off to all that despite inflicted wounds on his House, he was still the richest there was. That was what Jayce thought of at least, and it aligned with thoughts of Laenor and Lucerys, with the former taking part in the jousts and in the melee, along with Ser Arthur Dayne, who decided to show off to the Realm what Sword of Morning could do. Robert too wished to take part, but was somehow talked out of it all, and so remained a spectator, while Jayce was allowed to act as a squire for Ser Arthur and to take part in the squires' tourney.

The results were fairly obvious for many to predict when it came to melee and jousts, with Ser Arthur Dayne taking the victory in both contests and crowning his sister Ashara as Queen of Love and Beauty, while in the squires' tourney it was Jayce's time to shine, and shine he did. The young former page of Robert chose to fight much the same as he did in Winterfell, and proved to all who took to the field against him that he was worthy of the praises sang.

He faced off against six opponents that day, putting them all down, with the final one being youngest son of Mace Tyrell, Loras, who proved to be the best challenge so far, but he was nothing that Jayce hadn't anticipated and managed to gain the victory. The look on the people's faces when they saw him win was quite a spectacle too, though he most enjoyed the cheering of Velaryons, his father and friends. In the end, when announcing him as winner, even Tywin Lannister had to give praise to his skills, along with quite a large and hefty pouch of golden dragons, one that would've been a most generous reward for any winner of a regional tourney.

Since reaching Driftmark, Jayce's time on it turned into a routine, similar to the one he had back in White Harbor, though different in a few regards, for he was now officially a ward of Lord Lucerys and served as his cupbearer, alongside Baelon, though he also mixed it with the duties of a page to Laenor. He was also receiving arms training from Ser Arthur, as well as Ser Laenor and local Master-At-Arms, along with lessons in near everything that constituted a lord's education, as well as in the subjects of navigation, trade, foreign languages, cultures, seafaring and more.

Jayce quickly learned that Velaryons were not just powerful lords of the seas, but also excellent managers and traders, and that it was in the trade that their riches came from. From what he gathered, a great many of Lords and Ladies of Westeros viewed trading with Essos and its merchant princes and such as beneath them and their station. House Velaryon was of the opposite mind, and he often saw Lord Lucerys and Laenor host traders, merchants and even mercantile princes of Braavos in High Tide, discussing trade, striking deals and such, masterfully imploying the art of haggling and trading. He had seen such things in White Harbor too, but here he saw just what one could truly achieve with the right mindset and education, as the coins and goods that were talked of were far more than Manderly could boast of.

Aside from his education, training and service, Jayce had also managed to bond with pretty much every one of House Velaryon bloodline and household, having quickly made friends with Baelon, Baela and Alyn, who treated him as if he were one of their own. His relations with Ashara while couldn't be said to be fully those of a son and mother, but he cared and respected her infinitely more than he did Lady Catelyn, and Ashara cherished and cared for him much like she did her with Laenor children. Lord Lucerys and Laenor's relations didn't change all that much, while Lord Lucerys' wife, Lady Beatrice Trastamara, was a noblewoman of Braavos and a member of the prominent House Trastamara, and a cousin of Sealord of Braavos, as well as a prominent member one of the most notable and powerful Houses of Braavos, as well as member of the council of magisters and keyholders of the Iron Bank. A lady of foreign descent, Beatrice is a kind-hearted and soft-spoken woman who immediately took a liking to Jayce and personally offered him lessons in Braavosi language and culture.

Although she was all together pleasant and nice company, she was not here today, when Lord Lucerys was hosting an unexpected guest in form of Paxter Redwyne, who deigned to arrive on Driftmark without a prior warning, yet who received a warm welcome from Lord of Tides nonetheless. Soon enough though, Jayce did figure out, that Lord Redwyne's sister was Lucerys' first wife and mother of Monford Velaryon, while Laenor's mother was Beatrice, born after Jayne Redwyne passed away and Beatrice formally married Lucerys. If Jayce had understood everything right, Beatrice and late lady Jayne shared quite an enmity, the subject of which was Lucerys and his love for Beatrice, and so it made sense why Lady of High Tide refused to be here today, along with Laenor and his family. That, unfortunately, didn't apply to Jayce, and so he was now serving as a page and cupbearer to Lucerys and Paxter, with the former recounting the tales of their shared past, while Lucerys, masterfully hiding his growing irritation, listened to it.

"And so when we were brought before my grandfather Runceford, after our bash at that tavern, do you remember what he asked of us?" Paxter asked of him with a smile, to which Lucerys replied with his own smile, while Jayce quietly served them wine.

"Afraid I still can't fathom what it was, but I do remember you puking all over his boots." Lucerys recounted, to which Paxter laughed heartily. "I told you that last cup was clearly too much for you."

"Yet I recall you downing twice as many cups as I did, yet you didn't even seem glazed." Paxter recalled to which Lucerys merely took his cup and drank from it.

"That's because I always watered my wine before drinking it, otherwise how could I ever beat such a lover of reds and gold such as you." Lucerys and Paxter chuckled, with the latter downing his own cup.

"Ah, the 281 AC harvest! I would've thought you had already drunk those three barrels I sent you." Paxter noted, recognizing the wine of his making.

"And waist it just on me? A good wine can oft mean signing a good deal or a bad one." Lucerys noted, with Paxter shaking his head.

"Ever a mercantile man, eh? Tell me, Lucerys, is there anything that isn't related to trade for you and your family?" Paxter asked of him, with Jayce filling his cup.

"For me and my House, trade and seafaring are like vineyards and wine for yours, Paxter. Unlike Targaryens, we did not have dragons, so instead of conquering the skies, we took to taming the seas and the tides, and that's where we found our fortunes." Lucerys stated, quickly nodding Jayce to fill his cup, which he did. "But I somehow doubt that you have made all this way just to recount our past and talk of our Houses, Paxter. Tell me, how does the restoration coming along on Arbor?" On the mention of Arbor, Paxter's expression turned rather grim.

"Ah, the rebuilding and restoration… Well, the wood and stone can be replaced, but the vineyards… The Ironborn knew exactly where to hurt us the worst, and I fear it may be even longer before new wines come from my home." Paxter said with sadness, as he drank his wine. "And worse still, while I have enough coin to see my keep and town repaired mostly, I fear I have none for vineyard and my ships."

"But I had thought that you've recovered at least part of your previous fortune, and that you've gained more than a quarter of all the captured ships." Lucerys recalled.

"Aye, but what I recovered was less than one third of what my family had, and those ships…" Paxter practically spat that one out. "Half of them are little to no good for trade, and the rest either won't handle the high seas or are too damaged for those, and to repair them I need more coin, which… Which I can't produce right now."

"You have my sympathies, Paxter." Lucerys replied. "I am certain that the Gods will see the struggles that your House endures, and will offer you good harvests and smooth tides for your ships."

"Mayhaps, but I fear that I can't ask Gods of those with certainty to receive all that. However, my heart does rest easier knowing that I can still count on my many good friends, first among which is you, Lucerys." Now both Lucerys and Jayce understood when the real talking began. "I am sure you have already guessed that I have come to you not just recount our old days, Lucerys. I… I find myself in dire need of help, the kind that only one like you can provide me."

"And what kind of help can I give you, my old friend?" Lucerys asked of him.

"While I can restore my keep and towns, without proper ships and crews to man them, my House will never be able to recover fully, not while the wine is not being produced." Paxter explained, as he let out a sigh. "All in Westeros know that House Velaryon holds the greatest trading fleet in all of Westeros, and that your Captains can find welcome in every port of Essos. If you were to lend me a portion of your ships and men, it would quite literally be a salvation for my House."

"Paxter, my friend, I believe you realize that what you are asking is something that is not something that any Velaryon or Lord of Tides could decide on lightly. For my House, every ship is a treasure onto its own, and every trained seaman valued almost as much as a knight, and captains worth more than a company of knights." Lucerys said with his own wisdom, as he sipped wine from his cup. "It is true that my House has no immediate need or shortage of those, but I am sure you understand that no Lord simply parts ways with such valued men and ships."

"Naturally, Lucerys, which is why all I ask is that you lend them to me for a time, and naturally I would be more than happy to compensate you for all the troubles." Paxter assured him. "Mayhaps not with coin, but I do have a daughter, Desmera, and your Laenor eldest, Baelon, I hear, is not yet engaged to anyone."

"Nor does Laenor plan to see him engaged to anyone anytime soon, something in which I happen to be in support of." Lucerys noted with dry tone.

"Lucerys, please, I plead to you with all my heart. For the love you bore towards my sister Jayne and the bond that our Houses share would you not give consent to it and see our Houses united in deed and blood?" Paxter asked of him, with clear desperation in his voice, with Lucerys letting out a sigh, before speaking up.

"Such things are not wisely decided rashly and with wine in their belly and mouth. I will give it my utmost consideration and make my decision before the end of the week." Lucerys promised Paxter, with the man looking relieved at that, as he rose up.

"After hearing this, I feel easier already, my good friend. I hope you will forgive me for retiring early." Paxter spoke with clear relief in his tone.

"Of course, Paxter. The servant behind the door shall show you to your chambers." Lucerys told the man, as he left the room, leaving Jayce and Lucerys alone. "Like I said, he still can't handle his wine all that well… Nicely done, Jayce. He didn't even notice the two flagons." Lucerys praised the boy for being able to quickly and effectively change flagons and pour two different wines to the men.

"It was nothing special, milord. I just had to take a whiff and know which is which." Jayce said with a small smile, as he put the flagon with watered wine down. "Though I must say that this 281 AC harvest has quite a strong smell for a wine."

"Yes, hence why I only opened it for him today. It is a strong one, almost like a fortified wine, but the taste I found far too sweet for my taste, but Paxter always was a bit of a sweet tooth." Lucerys noted, as he put aside his wine, and turned to look at his page. "So, Jayce, what do you think of it?" He suddenly asked of him.

"What do I think about what, exactly, milord?" Jayce asked back, not catching the meaning of the question at first.

"About his request, to lend him my ships, captains and their crews." Lucerys clarified. "What are your thoughts on this particular matter, Jayce? I imagine you have something to say about it."

"Well, I do know that it isn't exactly my place to make comments on the choices and dealings of my liege lord" Jayce added, as he reminded the man of a certain protocol. "But if you really want to know…"

"Yes, I happen to be interested in hearing your opinion." Lucerys told him.

"I personally do not think that it's a good idea to part with your ships and men just because he asked you, and even if he promised to pay you back, I'd imagine that those ships and men would bring you far more coin and riches than he could pay you." Jayce commented. "That is what I think, but you are old friends and Lord Paxter's sister was your beloved wife and Lady of High Tide, so there is also this to consider."

"Paxter's value of our old friendship though sweet, is rather overestimated, and as for my marriage to his sister, it was no loving or even peaceful marriage. It was rather a bleak and tedious, and at times unbearable, affair, one in which Jayne found me too stingy to account for all of her desires, while I found her far too wasteful with coin on things that were of neither use nor value to her." Lucerys told Jayce. "The sole good thing that came from this arrangement was Monford, him, and perhaps the fact that it was cut short with her death. Like Paxter, Jayne was also no stranger to wines, and when she came here, she became the main drain on our cellars, until its contents became the bane of her."

"I guess that explains why Lady Beatrice was not of the kindest disposition when she saw Lord Redwyne's ship on the horizon." Jayce noted, with Lucerys nodded.

"No, she never did have a good disposition for Redwynes, much like most of her family. Had I not been betrothed by my father to Jayne, I would've married Beatrice far sooner than I did, and my first lady wife was well aware towards whom my affections laid." Lucerys added, as he turned to fire for a moment. "I never really could let go of my love for Beatrice, despite the many demands and insistences of my family, Redwynes' and Jayne's own demands. But in the end, I am all the more happy and lucky to not have abandoned my youthful and foolish love, for I did take Beatrice as my wife, after Jayne finally passed away."

"I am certain the Redwynes sent their best regards on your wedding celebration." Jayce chuckled, with Lucerys smiling to it.

"Quite, but enough about the past sordid affairs and tales of true love, for now." Lucerys decided to return to the topic at hand, as he stood up and walked to the great map of the known world, and motioned Jayce to come closer. "Now then, Jayce, tell me the pros and the cons of the proposal that Paxter has made, and if there is something unusual in it."

"Um, is this like one of those lessons that Maester Willem gives us?" Jayce immediately caught on it, with Lucerys nodding to him. "Alright, the pros and the cons… Well, for the pros it would first of all mean gratitude of House Redwyne and them owning you a serious debt, as well as restoration of your relations with them."

"Go on." Lucerys encouraged him.

"Baelon would be betrothed to Desmera, who, if I recall well enough, is a nice enough girl, though freckled. Connections with Redwynes would mean connections with Tyrells and Hightowers, which could lead to better trade agreements and lowering of the taxes…" Jayce continued, stopping for a moment to think of it. "But for the cons, you would need be lending a portion of your trade navy and experienced crews and captains to Paxter, and that would have an immediate effect on your wealth and trade. Less ships means less trade goods to transport leading to less coin, which could, if circumstances were to turn to worse in the future, could mean that you would need to lower of the number ships and men that you can command at one moment. There is also the fact that even if Paxter recovers the wealth and power of Redwynes, it could take years, if not a decade, just to get to that point, and even if he were to pay off the debt, the damage sustained by your House may not be entirely repaired with the coin Paxter may or may not pay." Jayce noted, with Lucerys nodding to him.

"Astute observation, very well. Anything else you wish to add?" Lucerys asked of the boy.

"Well, there is something that now I think of it, doesn't really make sense to me." Jayce stated. "Why did he decide to come to you, of all people? You told me that he and his family weren't quite amicable with your after your marriage to Beatrice, or at least that's what you've implied, and I imagine that he wouldn't be too interested in making any sort of deal with you after all that was said and done."

"What do you think would force him to come to me, after all that was said and done in the past?" Lucerys asked of Jayce.

"Maybe desperation, since nobody else would be willing to help him?" Jayce offered.

"House Redwyne is one of the most prominent in the Reach, and Paxter is married to Lord Tyrell's sister, so surely his good-brother would be more than happy to accommodate him." Lucerys noted.

"Unless he didn't, and Lord Paxter tried appealing to him already, and was rejected." Jayce speculated, with Lucerys nodding to him. "But if he was rejected by essentially his family, the question is why was he rejected then? House Tyrell is one of the richest in all of Westeros, and unlike yours, isn't as dependent on the sea trade as you are, for their wealth comes from crops, livestock, food and so on, meaning that they could recover their losses if they had accommodated Paxter no matter what. Maybe… Maybe there is something that Lord Paxter isn't telling you, and wants it to remain a secret from everyone?" Jayce suggested, with Lucerys smiling to him, before moving to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out a small piece of paper, before giving it to Jayce.

"This will give you the answer on your question." Lucerys stated to him, with Jayce reading it.

"The suspicions are true: most of the vineyards and great deal of fields that burned were salted by the Ironborn. House Redwyne is finished… Is this a report from one of your spies?" Jayce asked, with Lucerys nodding to him. "If the vineyards and fields were salted, then nothing can grow on them, and without their wine, House Redwyne would need to buy grapes and would need much coin and ships, and even then…"

"And even then, the wine would never be the same as it was before and Redwynes would never recover their wealth and power in any meaningful capacity." Lucerys finished for his ward, taking the letter and then burning it in the hearth. "This arrived to me after Paxter paid a visit to his great aunt Olenna Tyrell, mother of Mace, and the true ruler of House Tyrell. Though she may have some sentimentality towards her family, she is first and foremost a ruthless and ambitious person, craving power and authority, and helping Paxter regain his station and power offered none of the aforementioned in the long run to her and Tyrells."

"And if not even his family will help him, you would be a fool to also help him." Jayce noted, with Lucerys nodding to him. "You knew what he was after from the start, then why have you decided to humor him?"

"Because if I had rejected him outright, it could possibly compromise my spies in the Reach, for Paxter would've undoubtedly deduced that I know of his predicament. That, and there is also the fact that Paxter is blood related to Olenna and Tyrells, and if I were to openly reject his proposal without hearing it, or even after doing so, he could use his ties to Tyrells and Hightowers to affect the trade I do in Reach." Lucerys stated to Jayce. "And it also presented a good lesson for you, Jayce. When you will rule your own keep and lands, there will come times when such dilemmas will appear, and you will need to make the right choice, and know how to best handle it all. And you also needed to understand that at times, good and noble choices could spell disaster for you and your close ones in the future, and that Lord's first duty is always to his own family and interests."

"I see." Jayce nodded to the man, understanding what he meant. "But you now have to find a way to reject Lord Redwyne's appeal without making it look like a rejection."

"Yes, I do. Any thoughts on the matter?" Lucerys asked of the boy with curiosity, with Jayce taking time to think on it.

"Maybe you can redirect him to the Iron Bank of Braavos, and instead of ships, offer to write a letter on his behalf to House Trastamara, while promising him to set up a loan with more lenient terms than usual?" Jayce offered, with Lucerys considering it. "You said it yourself, that at least half of all the Houses take loans from Iron Bank, so why shouldn't he do the same? If you offer him this, it will not look like a complete rejection, and more as a reasonable compromise, to which he would have to give certain consideration, and if he outright rejects, you can always just expose his blunder and why he is out and about, begging for coin. Even rumors alone could do more damage to him than any pirate fleet." Lucerys looked at Jayce with consideration, and gave him a smile.

"Well thought, Jayce. Someday, when you hold your own lands and keeps, I'll be quite glad to be doing business with you." Lucerys assured the boy, proud of him and glad that he was progressing well in his studies.

Several days later, Paxter Redwyne departed from Driftmark, with his ship sailing towards east and entering the Narrow Sea, and then continuing his journey to Braavos. In the end, Lord of Arbor did not get the ships and coins that he was hoping for, nor a firm alliance with House Velaryon, and so instead had to settle on Lucerys' offer to advocate Paxter's loan with the Iron Bank. As it would soon be discovered, Lord of the Tides did indeed hold true to his word, and the Iron Bank loaned Paxter coin at more favorable terms than it would usually do. What Paxter also assumed from veiled hints of Lucerys, that Lord of Driftmark would also be a loan guarantee and would bear the responsibility of paying the loan if Lord of Arbor failed in that regard. However, this was not to be so, for the Iron Bank's treaty with Paxter included not a word of House Velaryon in any form or capacity, meaning that the responsibility of paying off debts fell solely on shoulders of the impoverished Lord of Arbor. It would be years later, when Paxter would discover this to be so, and by then, the Iron Bank would come to have their due…

---

Six months later. Braavos.

To say that Jayce's expectations and imaginings of the City of the Hundred Isles were not able to live up to the reality, would certainly be correct, for the 11-year old youth did not truly expect Braavos to live up to its reputation and legend. However, when he saw the massive giant statue of the Titan and passed underneath it, to bear witness to the Bastard Daughter of Valyria, his doubts were as gone as the morning wave takes the sand off the shores. The city itself was a marvel to behold, situated on numerous islands and connected by canals, bridges and causeways, while upon the isles stood houses, manses, temples, squares, roads and so much more, all that Jayce never would've imagined could be built in here, and in such a splendor.

The sight of Braavos truly eclipsed Oldtown and King's Landing, with the latter losing to the Secret City by a great margin just because Braavos smelled of clear sea, spices and perfumes that enticed and captured imagination, and not of shit and piss that made him wretch. From what Ser Laenor and Lady Beatrice told him, Braavos' architecture and layout were always a priority for the Sealord and council of magisters to consider in its expansion, for even a small mistake in the plans and creation, could result in a disaster. Young Stark could clearly see that those that have built and maintained this city were no fools, but masters of their craft, for Braavos' layout, buildings and so on looked so organic and natural, that it seemed like they were always there, and when he got a chance to walk on those streets, the felt spacious and vibrant, not closed and drab like in King's Landing.

House Velaryon in its entirety had sailed from Driftmark to Braavos on the invitation of House Trastamara, who wished the presence of their extended family on the occasion of marriage. Lady Beatrice's niece and daughter of Sealord of Braavos was to be wed into House Trastamara, and such a momentous occasion was to be celebrated in the fullest, with Lady Beatrice and her family being invited as well. Lord Lucerys graciously accepted the invitation and sailed to Braavos with his whole family, where they were received quite warmly and heartily by the members of Trastamara family and their household. As relatively close relatives and friends of their family, the Velaryons and Jayce were offered lodgings in the expansive and luxurious manse of Trastamara, which was but a stone's throw away from Sealord's own manse, with Jayce being granted the chambers befitting of noble lord of Westeros.

Truly, the chambers he was provided were quite a sight, with expensive materials all around him in every aspect and part of the room, from furniture to pillows. It's size was over twice those that he had resided in Oldtown, and certainly bigger than those he had in Winterfell and High Tide, and if this was how non-related guests were received, Jayce could only imagine what Trastamara had in store for their kin. Once he was done settling in and after the dinner was served, where it was discussed the date of the marriage and details of the celebration, which were to take place in a fortnight's time and last for four days. The people and nobles of Braavos definitely didn't do anything half-heartedly and knew how to make an auspicious occasion truly unforgettable, since from what Jayce heard at the table, the marriage was going to have scale and posh of royal wedding, if not even more.

Once the sun had set and he was in his settled chambers, Jayce was preparing to catch up on his reading, when suddenly he heard a knock on his door. He opened it up and inside immediately came Baela, clearly dressed for an outing outside.

"Baela, what are you doing?" Jayce asked of the girl, but her mischievous grin and attire quickly gave him the answer. "Don't tell me…" At that moment she quickly threw him a cloak.

"Quickly, get dressed!" She said excitedly, with Jayce looking at her with questioning eyes. "Come on, it's Braavos, Jayce! The City of a Hundred Isles and where the true life comes only at night! Don't tell you do not want to see the city?"

"I do, and I also do not want to have your father and our mother after my hide when they find out we are gone." Jayce told his half-sister. "Need I remind you what happened the last time we went out like that in King's Landing?"

"Don't bring up that cesspool of a city, you know how I hate that place now." Baela quickly stated with a disgusted look, while Jayce laughed a little.

"Yeah, yet it was you who wanted to see if the Street of Silk really was made of silk." Jayce reminded her, before he got a light punch in the side.

"Shut it! Come on, get dressed, or we'll never get out of here." Baela urged him. "I've already scouted the place, and we can quickly leave through one of the backdoors out in the kitchen."

"Still, you know how mother doesn't like us to go around unguarded…" Jayce offered the last weak argument, before meeting Baela's eyes, which basically stated: "Stop pulling my leg and get moving."

"Fine, let me just grab my sword and dress up right." Jayce told her, as he quickly went dressed up, as well as attaching his sword to himself.

Jayce had been allowed to carry live steel since Lannisport, and unlike most of the squires and nobles that wanted to fully show off their status and prestige through carrying a fully sized sword, Jayce carried a longsword that was proportionate to his size. For he was taller and stronger than most his age, the blade was almost fully in length to a conventional arming sword, but had a few differences, with the major one being a more slender blade on it, with the size maintained all throughout the weapon. The handle was the size that allowed it to be used by both hands, or in one-handed way, with Jayce having discovered that he was quite predisposed for a more maneuverable and agile style of combat, rather a more traditional fencing style of Westerosi knights, though in that regard he too progressed quite well. Another interesting detail of the blade was the fact that it was made as scaled down version of Nightfall, repeating it's textures and form near completely, with Jayce having grown used to wielding it. Light, slender and quite effective in delivering quick slashes or cuts, the sword was what Jayce, and incidentally Daemon Targaryen, was most comfortable with.

Once he was dressed and his blade strapped to his side, the pair made their way through the manse, managing to evade the eyes of the servants and guards, before sneaking their way through the kitchen. Jayce and Baela were both more than experienced enough in the art of sneaking in and out of spots and places, he was still surprised that she had managed to scout out the place already, but he did recall that she was granddaughter of Trastamara, and most likely was here already. And along with having superb skills in the art of mischief and escape, Baela also had an excellent memory, so it all made sense now to Jayce as to how young daughter of House Velaryon navigated herself out of that mansion, along with him.

Once they were out of the mansion and the grounds of Trastamara and on the main square, then they saw what Braavos was, and it did not disappoint, for the night was lit with the vibrancy of music, colors, scents and more. People in masks and not walked, danced, some even dueled, the fabled Bravos that were so often found in the Free Cities, and who were born in here. Baela and Jayce did not know if there were some festival or celebration going on, and instead of asking, they decided to enjoy themselves, as they threw themselves right into it.

Through the hours, they sang and danced on the bridges, watched mummer's plays that ridiculed Westerosi king and Lords, with Jayce and Baela laughing the hardest, before dining on some peaches and apples. It then followed by the two of them engaging in some queer game, where two groups gathered and where members of the group had to dance in sync to the music, and the public judged who danced better. This forced them to discard their cloaks to better move their feet, but both were more than happy with it, as they joined one of the groups and danced to the music and cheers of the crowd.

Though he was nearly drowning in the sensations of the great Free City, Jayce could not help but admit every time when he saw Baela smile, that her smile was the most vibrant and brightest he saw, and her laughter was sweeter than any music. He had grown close with all of the Velaryon children, each and every one of them being a brother or a sister to him, but Baela… She was special to him. She abhorred the yoke of being a lady, yet was far better than Sansa, Princess Myrcella, Lady Catelyn and Queen Cersei in the dress and at dance. Her laughter was sweeter than a bard's song, while her smile shined brighter than sun to Jayce's eye. She could understand and talk to him without even words being spoken, and with her he laughed the hardest and heartiest, and she could always make him see her way and get him to do her bidding.

All of this was worlds apart compared to what he felt to his Stark siblings, for not only Baela, but Baelon, Alyn and Alyssa were and felt far closer than Robb, Sansa or Arya. Only Jon was closer to him than Velaryons, and with him gone, no longer did he feel any need or pull towards Winterfell or the North, and now… Now he felt same pull and connection towards Baela, Baelon, Alyn, Alyssa, and Jayce could tell, that he would do anything for his family, for them, for Laenor and his mother, for Lucerys and Beatrice. Once the music finally reached it's conclusion, the dancers stopped, and the public casted their vote, and much to their delight, Jayce and Baela's group won, and were showered with coins, as Baela and Jayce laughed and hugged each other in celebration of their victory.

"Haha, we did it!" Baela cried out in joy, as she caught her breath and swatted aside sweat. "And whoever said that we Westerosi can't dance?"

"Definitely not someone with their eyes open." Jayce added with laughter, as too was catching his breath. "Oh Gods, we should probably start heading back to the manse, or else…"

"Yes, you two probably should be heading to your homes. You are such a sore in the eyes, that it's plain cruel to even watch you." Jayce and Baela both turned to a new prideful voice, giving him quite a fearsome eye.

Before them stood a black haired young Braavosi, mayhaps a three or five years older than Jayce, dressed in such flamboyant and screaming colors, that Jayce for a moment mistook him for a jester. But when he noticed the slender sword on his hip and hand reaching for it, then Jayce realized who it was, and cursed under the breath, for he forgot one essential rule of Braavos- if you bear steel in Braavos after dark, then you must be ready for Bravos to challenge you.

"Honestly, I've seen limping whores dance better than she did, and that laughter… Ugh, chicken and cocks are true masters of song compared to her." The Bravo spoke arrogantly, with Jayce feeling his anger rise.

"Mayhaps you need your ears and eyes checked, messir, for the only chicken and cock I see right now is you." Baela stated to him, fuming at being compared to a limping whore, with the man laughing at her. "Come, Jayce, there are better places to be than here."

"Oh, running away so soon? Well you do so, for such an ugly duckling spoils the sight of our very City." Now that was something that truly irked Jayce, as he strapped his blade to his side. "And when compared to my beloved sister Lucretia, she is as beautiful as a pig's dung before a true diamond."

"Is that so? Strange then that I do not see your dear ugly duckling, and all I hear is worth a pig's dung to my ear." Jayce retorted, with the Bravo visibly irked by those words. "Let's just get to the bloody point, messir. Clearly, you want to dance, don't you?" Jayce said with a wolfish grin, as he laid his hand on his sword, with Bravo grinning in much the same way, as he took out his weapon, the people around them immediately giving them some space, Baela too stepping aside, fully aware of what was to happen.

"You Westerosi brute dare to insult my sister's beauty and honor, and for that I challenge you to a duel! Till the first blood is drawn! En garde!" Bravo announced in a near theatric way, with Jayce taking his blade in his hand, with both men assuming their respective stances. "Ha, you Westerosi are all clubfooted and brutish. You know nothing of the true grace and elegance of the dance!" And with this, the duel was on, with the Bravo going on the offensive, making a quick thrust at Jayce, with him deflecting, before doing so again two more times, clearly showing a significant lack of grace compared to his opponent.

"An admirable start, for a Westerosi!" The Bravo stated, feinting a right swing, instead going for a thrust to the left, forcing Jayce on his back foot, before swinging his blade around to gain bit of distance. "I shall give you credit where it is due, you've lasted longer than the last fool from Sunset Kingdoms I've cut. Although your blade… It's either a poor attempt to replicate our fine steel, or you are still a child to not be allowed your fully sized swords?" He asked in a mocking tone, feinting an attack, but instead Jayce answered with his own lunge and quick follow up with a downward slash, with Bravo stepping aside and deflecting his strikes.

"You know, if you wielded your blade as you do your tongue, you might actually hit me!" Jayce commented, as he and the Bravo moved in a circular motion.

"Ha, if you think this is me actually trying, then let me demonstrate how a true Bravo fights!" And with this, he Bravo truly began his attack, and Jayce found himself overwhelmed and outmatched, able only to defend and step aside, as he seemingly saw several blades near him, before he suddenly fell on his back, losing his footing, with the Bravo's blade near his throat.

"Hm, it would be so easy to claim my win… But no true Bravo would take this victory. On your feet, Westerosi." The Bravo withdrew his blade and allowed Jayce to rise up on his feet, the blade in hand and breath a bit ragged. "Shall we continue, or would you prefer to forefeet?" The Bravo offered graciously.

"And deny you a real victory? What a man I would be then?" Jayce jokingly said, with the Bravo laughing at his words.

"Ha, you have some of our spirit, Westerosi. Catch your breath, I will not let lack of air in your lungs rob me of a real victory." The Bravo told him, and once Jayce caught his breath, the two assumed their poses.

Jayce assumed his previous stance, but if the last assault was any indication, it meant that he was clearly outmatched when it came to such way of fighting, for the Bravo's style seemed so damn superior to his own, despite all the differences. Jayce too favored speed and agility, but this Bravo and his blade were even more in tune with which he sought to achieve, already showing him what true master of a sword can do. He realized that if he were to stand a chance, he needed to stop thinking as a Westerosi knight and instead… And in that moment, his eyes widened, as if a memory flashed before his eyes, a memory from another time.

---

A quick swipe at the hand, and Daemon's blade was now at his feet, while his father's blunted steel at his throat, a smile displayed on his face. Young Targaryen Prince was 11 years old, and was already leagues above his older brother in terms of martial prowess, yet for two days now, he tried to win against his father, and found himself beat near every time. He tried to fight him as he was taught and trained before, but Baelon was faster and nimbler, picking him apart in quick strikes and lunges, sidestepping and deflecting away the attacks. This was all so different from what Daemon had seen that it confounded him to no end.

"And that's another win, son." Baelon announced, putting away his blade. "Pick it up, let's go one more time."

"Ugh, why? Do you really want to beat your own son so much?" Daemon asked in a near whine, as his father assumed the strange stance. "What is this stance is all about, anyway?"

"I'm not trying to beat you, Daemon. I'm trying to teach you, yet thus far you did not wish to learn." Baelon told him, as he began his attack again, with Daemon blocking and deflecting, before nearly sidestepping, and then Baelon struck at his knee. "There, you see?"

"And how am I supposed to learn whatever you are trying to teach me?" Daemon asked of him, as he repositioned himself, with Baelon doing the same, assuming earlier form. "And what's with this stance? How can you hold a sword like that and move?"

"How? Like this." Baelon answered with a smile, and then showed his son a quick succession of precise and deadly attacks, while his legs moved swiftly and gracefully, with Daemon awe struck at it. "Now you are starting to see it." Baelon noticed the look on his son's face.

"What was that?" Daemon asked of him.

"That was something I came up with after I trained under a Bravo instructor, who taught me the Water Dance of Braavos. Now that Dance is all about sudden and quick attacks, with the elegant footwork and all that, but it's fully reliable only for their slender blades." Baelon told Daemon, before he put down his training sword and pulled out the Dark Sister. "Now those swords are complete rubbish against any form of armor, they did give me an idea, and so came this style of mine, perfect for Dark Sister and blades like her. While Blackfyre is most excellent for your traditional way of fencing, Dark Sister need more finesse, more grace, but with its light weight and ease of wielding, you can truly become a terror for any enemy, but only if you learn how to wield it." And then, Baelon demonstrated the same combination with Dark Sister, leaving Daemon in awe again.

"Will you teach me how to do it all?!" Daemon asked with excitement, with Baelon smiling to him, as his son picked up the training sword again.

"Then watch and learn, Daemon, for one day, I'll have you wield Dark Sister." And Daemon did just that, watched, observed, learned and practice.

On that day he barely managed to grasp his father's different style, on next day he could only replicate it's basics, but a week later Daemon practically moved on the same level as Baelon. Two months later, the two Targaryen princes almost danced around each other, with Daemon fighting with that style like he was born for it, with Baelon's smile present the entire time, for he knew, that the Dark Sister was to be given in truly capable hands of his youngest son.

---

Another dream, or a memory, and again Jayce found himself as Daemon Targaryen, but this time it was so swift and sudden, yet as fresh as if it were just a moment ago. And then... Then he shifted his stance, his body moving into a different one, more akin to one of Bravo, as he held his blade in one hand, pose relaxed and more nimble in appearance, with Bravo noticing it, along with the crowd and people.

"Hm, trying to copy your betters? Well, let's see what you've learned!" And then the Bravo attacked again, going at Jayce with same attitude as before, yet this time things were different.

Jayce's sword moved with sudden grace and swiftness that neither Bravo or Baela expected, as he swiped the blade aside and then moved onto the offensive, his feet swiftly carrying him through the square, with the Bravo on the defensive. Jayce pressed the attack, feinting a slash and going for a thrust, then a different pattern, all done in different way to the one he previously moved and fought in. His feet moved like in a dance, his blade was quick and sudden, an extension of his hand and he now was on more even ground with the Bravo, not as elegant or graceful, but certainly like him in martial way. Jayce's body moved and fought on an instinct, his hands and feet felt as if they had practiced and fought in this way for months, just as Daemon did, though there clearly was clumsiness when compared to the refined artistry of Daemon and Baelon.

Yet what Jayce was now doing was clearly enough, as the duel continued for a few more minutes on more even ground, with the Bravo and Jayce exchanging blows and blocks, but not words. Yet those that watched their eyes and postures, they could've noticed that there no longer mockery or jeering in their faces and eyes, but respect and determination to win. All it took now was for one of them to give in to any detriment that was coming to them, and as it turned out, the Bravo's stamina and endurance failed him for a second, as he was just a little slow on his last lunge. And Jayce seized the moment, swiping the blade aside and them delivering a quick slash on the hand, cutting up his right sleeve and showing the smallest of cuts. The Bravo looked at it, and let out a defeated sigh, before regaining his posture, and giving a theatric bow to his opponent.

"Well fought, messir." The Bravo said, saluting his opponent with his blade. "A most astonishing fight I had in my life. You have proved my better, and I withdraw all my words said of your companion. Milady, I ask for your forgiveness in befouling you and your qualities. My foul tongue served to only infuriate your companion, and for my rashness and pride, I present myself to your judgment." The Bravo spoke to Baela, with the crowd stepping aside to show her.

"I judge you forgiven for your words in my address, messir." Baela responded, with the Bravo turning to Jayce.

"And I judge you the most ardent and humbling opponent I had faced, and I too ask your forgiveness for my words of your fair sister, messir." Jayce repeated the salute with his sword and bowed in respect, with the Bravo stunned at it, yet accepting it, with the crowd breaking into ovations.

"You've proven with deed and steel your worth, Westerosi, and I'll not hold you for your words of my sister." The Bravo said with grace and smile, as he sheathed his steel. "And I must confine, you have proven to be the most pleasurable partner, and I would wish for us to dance again, Westerosi."

"It would by my pleasure, for you too have proven one hell of a dancing partner, and an inspiration. Though I prefer to know those I dance with, or against." Jayce said, as he sheathed his steel, with the Bravo taking of his hat and bowing before him.

"Forgive my lack of manners, messir. Chesare Antaryon, fourth son of Ferrego Antaryon, the Sealord of Braavos." Chesare introduced himself, with Jayce following suit.

"Jayce Stark, ward of Lord Lucerys Velaryon and guest of House Trastamara, and son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell." Jayce said, before offering Chesare his hand, with the Bravo gripping it with a smile and amity. "You'll forgive the foul words, I did not know I was up against the Sealord's son."

"Think nothing of it, Jayce, for I too did not know that I was fighting the infamous Dreadwolf!" Chesare said to him with the smile, surprising Jayce.

"The Dreadwolf? For what deed did I suddenly gain such a nickname in your land?" Jayce asked of him.

"Why for your feats in the war against the Ironborn, of course. Tales of your deeds reach our city, and our mummers and bards spread it through plays and songs." Chesare stated to him with a smile. "The Dreadwolf, who sunk his teeth in flesh of pirates and watered them with their foul blood! How else one calls one who spits in the face of death and gives it at such young age to so many?"

"Really? I actually like the sound of it." Jayce laughed to it, as Baela moved closer to him.

"That was just amazing, Jayce! Where did you learn how to move like that? It was like you danced, almost like him." Baela noted.

"Ah, I just decided to improvise and do whatever needed for the win." Jayce answered in half-truth, not wanted to tell the truth in fear of coming off as crazy. "Plus I took quite an inspiration from Chesare, but added a bit of my own flavor."

"And quite a flavor it gained, I must say. You almost made me think you were a Bravo too." Chesare noted with a smile. "Though you could use some more refinement, but just technique and instinct, it was like watching an artist at work."

"I could say the same of you too, messir." Jayce stated with a smile.

"Chesare, I wish you call me Chesare, for only so I'd wish my friends to address me." Antaryon scion told Jayce.

"Then I request you call me Jayce, as my friends do as well." Jayce told him, before recalling something that piqued his attention and memory. "You said you are son of Sealord and Antaryon. Would it be your sister Lucretia you spoke of, that is to be married into House Trastamara?"

"She indeed is to become wife of Lorenzo Trastamara." Chesare stated with a nod. "Ah, yes, you said you were their guest with your companion!" Chesare recalled.

"I am but a guest, but Baela here is also Lady Beatrice Trastamara's granddaughter." Jayce pointed out, with Chesare widening his eyes in realization.

"By the Titan, how could not see the resemblance? I indeed deserved that thrashing, for if my father and brothers learned I've dared to spout that bile of Lady Beatrice's granddaughter, they'd have my tongue." Chesare stated with near theatricality, with Baela and Jayce shaking their heads and laughing. "Though it may be out of place, but may I ask what you are doing in here at such hour and with steel at your hip."

"We… Well, we snuck out of the manse to see the city, and uh… We kinda got a bit carried out by all it had to offer." Jayce admitted, with Chesare nodding to him.

"Ah, so it is your first visit to Braavos? Indeed, our city offers much to all that come in it, though I confess that I mistook you for a regular visitor, when I saw your steel and way you moved in the end. Though for your age you fight akin a true son of Braavos and Titan" Chesare admitted with a smile. "The hour grows late. Would you allow me to escort you to the Trastamara manse? I would not have guests of my future brother walk alone in our city like this."

"Aye, we would." Baela said, with Jayce nodding to her, and then they started to head towards the Trastamara manse.

And when they began to move towards it, Jayce closed their trio behind, as he looked around at the living city, as the artists and mummers played and music sounded the night, until the tune suddenly turned to one he had heard before, but not awake…

---

The music played, as the crowds thickened around them, a lady dropped her mask suddenly, and a man helped raise it. A pyromancer spewed fire out of his mouth, lighting the street, and from behind Jayce, a voice came…

"Lady Stark sends her regards." And then a blade stabbed him in the back and came out of his chest, spewing blood and then leaving him, for the deed was done. "Death to the wretched bastard." Was all he heard before darkness claimed him…

---

That dream came to him right before they set for Braavos, and he dismissed him as just another nightmare, but he had forgotten that he had dreams like this before, like one on Pyke, or with Daemon, of which he already saw several, along with that memory. And now… Now it was happening again, as he saw that mask drop, and then the pyromancer was ready to spew fire. Without even thinking, his hand reached for his sword, and when the flame came, he heard the voice.

"Lady Stark sends her regards." And then the blame came out, but not out of Jayce's back.

Instead it flew out of his sheath and he deflected the arming sword from him, as he spun and assumed the fighting position, the people scattering around in fear, for this was clearly no duel, while Chesare drew out his steel and pushed Baela back. However, Jayce was not going to give chance to his new friend to lend help, as he moved towards this would be assassin, him trying to swing at him, but nimble and fast Jayce evaded him, before on the third strike he saw the man overreach and opening himself. A quick thrust into his gut, twist and slash towards the right, and his stomach opened up, blood and guts spewing out, as he fell on his knees with an agonized look on his face.

"P-please, m-mercy…" The man pleaded, looking into Jayce's cold eyes.

"As you wish." Jayce gave the only mercy he could, as he drove his blade into the throat of the man and out, ending his life.

He then stood in the center of the square before the dead man, blood pooling around him and Jayce, and young Stark did not notice how the City Watch, Ser Laenor and Velaryon household guards rushed through the crowd to him. Nor did he notice cries of Baela, as she tugged his sleeve or concerned eye of Chesare Antaryon. No, for Jayce at that moment only one thing mattered, and that was the words of that assassin: "Lady Stark sends her regards."

He had heard of Lord Stark sending her away, though reason he knew not, yet suspecting it had something to do with Jon, and now this… Now he knew that it was definitely about him, and if she had sent this man after him… It meant to Jayce, that in the death of his brother now was distinctly felt the hand of the trout, and from that thought, fire started to rage in his blood.

"She wishes for blood, I'll give her blood, enough to drown when I'll open her thrice damned throat!" Jayce made a promise to himself, vowing to one day, that the Dreadwolf will sink his fangs into the trout.

---

A week later. King's Landing. Red Keep.

The small council's session was just as tedious and dull as Robert had thought it would be, and he was already mentally cursing Jon for managing to making come here, more so with his wife. He was not made for this life, to listen to reports and counting coppers, he was made for battle and war, for feasts and taking wenches, but not this…

"…And so, Lord Hoster has sent another plea, in regards with the situation between his daughter and Lord Stark. He expresses hope that I and Your Grace will persuade Eddard to forgive Catelyn and accept her in her home." Jon finished the letter. "It is well past time that Eddard had returned to his wife and put an end to this farce. I shall compile the letter on our behalf and…"

"You can compile whatever you wish, Jon, but I'll not sign anything related to this fucking mess!" Robert stated with anger, as he put his cup down. "If Ned doesn't want to forgive that crazy fish, I'll not force him too, nor would I think he ever would, not after what she had done to his lad."

"Robert, it has been nine months already and Lord Hoster is Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Riverlands…" Jon tried to persuade his former ward, but found his pleas silenced before he could even begin.

"And he and his dullard of son nearly cost us the war and our lives, while his wench of a daughter murdered Ned's son out of fucking spite!" Robert bellowed out at Jon. "For fucks' sake, Jon, what the hell would you do if your wife had done that to your son? Pat her on the back and say that such things happen, no need to worry?"

"The boy was sick with pox, and he was not Eddard's trueborn son from Catelyn. He was a bastard, born out of wedlock." Jon Arryn reminded Robert.

"He was Ned's lad and a son of Ashara fucking Dayne, whose brother just so happens be the only Knight in all Seven of my Kingdoms who can gut every single one of my Kingsguards with his left hand, while taking a piss with the third." Robert reminded Jon. "Had it been me in Ned's place, I would've smashed that bitch's head with my hammer for hurting one of my sons!"

"And we would have a new war to fight as a result." Renly decided to add his comment.

"Lady Catelyn committed a murder, bastard or not, noble or smallfolk, the law is the same. We should not be helping her return to her husband, but put her on a trial for murder." Stannis stated with firmness his opinion.

"A trial for murder of some little bastard? Bastards die every day, I'd say that woman has done the world a favor by ridding us of one of them." Cersei Lannister spoke, before she received one furious look from Robert, only stopped from slapping her by Jon's gaze on him.

"You'll keep quiet woman, another word of one of Ned's lads, and it'll be you on trial, for raising my son like I wouldn't my own bastards!" Robert threatened her, with Cersei holding her tongue. "Enough, I won't hear anymore of reuniting that wench with Ned, and Stannis… For the first time, I'm of one mind with you. Jon, send Hoster an ultimatum: either he gives his daughter to us for the trial, or he'll be named a traitor to the realm."

"A rather strong demand, Your Grace, but I fear Lord Hoster may not take it to heart, and the Crown and the Realm can ill afford another war so soon." Petyr Baelish, recently promoted Master of Coin, stated. "Mayhaps I can persuade Lord Hoster to settle this dispute in a way that would avoid the messy business of war."

"Curious, what could a man of your former small station offer as argument to Lord Hoster?" Varys finally spoke. "From what I heard, your time as Lord Hoster's ward did not end on the amicable note, nor is Lord Hoster or his son speaks or mentions you with warmth."

"Whatever, do what you wish, but if that rotten fish doesn't comply, I'll personally march to that keep of theirs and put it to torch." Robert said heatedly, before calming down and deciding to turn away from this business. "Enough of that trout wench. What of Jayce? Stannis, you've had Velaryons on your Dragonstone a few times? How's the lad, is he treated well by those sea mongers?"

"He is healthy and strong, and is treated by Velaryons as if he were one of their own, from what I gather. I spoke to him on two occasions when he was with Ser Laenor, he clearly appeared happy with them." Stannis stated, with Robert glad to hear it. "I've also noticed that he was also allowed to bear live steel already, and clearly knows how to wield it."

"I'd expect nothing less of Ned's lad! I should send him an invitation, see him for myself, plus have him teach Joffrey how to properly hold his damn steel." Robert said with laughter, while Cersei gave her husband a scandalized look.

"I fear that at this moment it would be quite impossible to do so, Your Grace, for young Stark, along with the majority of House Velaryon is currently not on Driftmark." Varys spoke up, surprising Robert.

"And where the fuck are they?" Robert asked immediately

"In Braavos, Your Grace, attending the impending wedding of Sealord's daughter and House Trastamara's heir, invited on it as guests and relatives of House Trastamara, with young Jayce among the attendees." Varys responded. "And my little birds tell me that young Stark has quite a reputation in the Free City, being known as the Dreadwolf for his deeds during the war, and popularized in songs and plays of mummers, much to my surprise."

"The Dreadwolf, you say? Ha, I like it!" Robert laughed at it. "What else is the lad up to these days?"

"It would appear he still knows how to draw misfortune to himself, for in his first evening out in Braavos, he ended up dueling with Sealord's fourth son. The duel, thankfully, was only till the first blood, and the young Dreadwolf managed to somehow claim victory over a man four years his senior, and trained in ways of Water Dancing." Varys responded, with Robert listening with interest. "Afterwards, though, I also heard that they exchanged pleasantries and struck quite a quick and strong friendship."

"His first night out in the city and already finding himself adventures, what a lad!" Robert said with a smile. "And with Sealord's son no less! Those Bravo are prancing dancers all them, but to win against one of them so young… Looks like a few more years, and he'll be dancing circles around you, Kingslayer!" Robert laughed at that.

"I dread the day when it happens." Jaime commented, with Robert ignoring him.

"I fear that this is not the end of young Stark's misadventures. Mere minutes after the duel, the boy was nearly made a victim of assassination by some catspaw, who appeared to have planned to skewer young Jayce in the middle of Braavos." Varys stated out loud, drawing the attention or Robert and others.

"What?! Why the fuck did you waste time and not tell me sooner?! Is the boy alive?!" Robert immediately demanded to know.

"Oh, the lad is quite fine, Your Grace. Alive and healthy, with not a scratch on him." Varys stated, as his eyes watched Petyr Baelish. "By some miracle, he must've noticed the attacker beforehand, and was able to not only evade his sword, but also kill him in retaliation. I am told he made quite a spectacle of it, first by opening his stomach, and then his throat, when the man pleaded for mercy."

"The only kind of mercy the murderer can earn." Stannis added.

"Thank the Gods Jayce is fine, I'd not know what Ned would do if he lost him too…" Robert commented with relief. "Who the fuck sent that catspaw, Spider? What your little birds sing to you?"

"I fear I have no concrete proof or facts, but there is something that also reached me of young Jayce." Varys spoke. "When he was asked if the attacker said anything, he is said to have responded with: "Lady Stark sends her regards." Varys stated to the council, much to the surprise of all, and most hidden of all in Petyr Baelish.

"You mean that that fish skank hadn't had enough, and decided to also end Jayce?! Jon, get that bitch here by whatever means necessary! I don't fucking care how you do it: bribes, threats, pleads, fucking do it all!" Robert bellowed out in fury. "I'll have that bitch her by month's end, or I'll have all her family's heads on the spikes!" And with that said, Robert departed from the room, blood boiling and thoughts of war and fury filling his head, as he went out to satiate his baser needs.

---

The biggest chapter yet, and what a chapter it is! If you wished to know what happened exactly to Jon, well, there you have it, and as you can see, Catelyn isn't escaping justice this time, but she's not done yet and is out for more blood, or is she…? Jayce is on Driftmark, learns what it means to be a ruler and how to do business, and finds adventures and friends in Braavos, along with discovering more from the days of Daemon Targaryen, could there be a link?

Well, to find out, stay tuned for the next chapters, and if you would like to help me make them better, please leave a comment, a suggestion about the future, questions about the story, a possible romance option and more, for I love constructive feedback and it makes me understand what this story has to be.

Next time: Time for truth; Acceptance or denial; A choice to make…