JOFF
"Our mother's banner is quartered," Joff said to Lady Jeyne,"Two quarters the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, a third the seahorse of our father's House Velaryon, and the fourth the winged falcon of House Arryn."
"Truly?" Lady Jeyne asked,"It is an honour to fly upon a queen's banner."
"Our mother remembers her mother fondly," Jace said,"our grandmother Queen Aemma Arryn, who was our grandfather King Viserys's first and wisest wife. I never had the fortune to meet her, but our mother always told us stories of how lovely and kind she was."
"I never knew Aunt Aemma," Lady Jeyne said,"She married your grandfather and sailed to King's Landing the year before I was born. In the Vale, we were proud to have an Arryn as a queen, but she never visited. Not even for the funeral of my father Lord Jason and brothers when they were murdered by mountain savages."
"I cannot fault my grandmother for that," Jace said,"That year was the year our grandmother bore our mother, and Queen Aemma was bedridden for several moons after. Though it will never make up for her absence, I offer my condolences and only wish that my lady does not blame our grandmother."
"It is nothing," Lady Jeyne smiled,"I doubt Aunt Elys would have wanted Aunt Aemma there anyways. Aunt Elys was a nasty woman, who always hated her youngest sister. Said she was dragonspawn. I was always glad Aunt Amanda's husband Lord Yorbert Royce was my Regent in the stead of Aunt Elys." She leaned in to Jace,"The greatest condolence Queen Aemma can offer me is her daughter seated on the Iron Throne." She then leaned back and turned to Joff,"My prince, in which way are the four quarters arranged on your mother's banner?"
Jace nodded to him, and Joff was thankful that Jace had at least left this to him. "The Targaryen dragons are displayed in the upper left and lower right quarters. The Velaryon seahorse rests in the lower left quarter, and the Arryn falcon-and-moon in the upper right."
"I daresay it is quite a fitting place," Lady Jeyne said,"The falcon always wishes to fly." She thought for a moment, then raised her goblet to the both of them,"When the feast concludes tonight, you shall meet my steward Mellus Castellan and instruct him in a drawing of the exact design of the sigil. The seamstresses of the Eyrie need begin weaving the banners of the queen to ride into battle. I shall also have to command Maester Barrabas to send ravens to every castle in the Vale informing them of the banners that must be weaved to accompany the knights as they ride."
"When shall the Vale's knights be ready to ride?" Jace asked,"We thank the Seven that my lady had the foresight to gather the Vale lords at Eyrie, but thousands of knights are another matter."
"It shall take a fortnight to weave the banners," Lady Jeyne answered,"Another moon to gather twenty thousand swords at the Bloody Gate. I would say that in two moons, my cousin Ser Joffrey Arryn will lead the Vale knights to sally forth from the Gate in aid of Her Grace's war."
"Can we forgo the banners?" Joff asked,"The usurper is like to make his own anyway. If we fly the red dragon of the Conqueror to war, the lords of the realm shall know that our mother's armies are that of the rightful queen."
"We cannot risk our banners being the same," Jace answered,"else we would not know who is who in battle, and slay as much of our own men as we do the enemy. One always pays for haste in blood.
"One always pays for haste in blood," Jace had said to Joff when he lingered for four days in the Eyrie. Vermax needed rest to prepare for the long ride north to Winterfell, but the more important cause was that Jace wanted to instruct Lady Jeyne in all the preparations for war.
"It seems wise, though, to fly the Conqueror's banner," Lady Jeyne said.
"We cannot fly the banners of Aegon the Dragon," Jace said,"Those who see his banner will see the usurper who was named for Aegon, wears Aegon's crown, and wields Aegon's sword. The realm must see that they are fighting for our mother."
Joff's face went red, then muttered beneath his breath,"I'm sorry."
"It is nothing," Lady Jeyne laughed,"I wish I had an elder brother like Prince Jacaerys, but both Denys and Harrold died when I was three. I also do not think either was fond of teaching girls." "But belay that," she looked at both Jace and Joff,"It is revels we should see this one last feast before the Vale rises in war."
Lady Jeyne rose to her feet and signaled for her herald to blow his great golden horn. A mighty blast trembled the air as the High Hall fell into silence. The words faded on the singer's lips as his hand stilled on his harp. A lord who wore a cloak of three ravens waved away the mass of knights that had gathered at his table. Another lord with a black star woven on his surcoat slammed his flagon on a table as he called for the men in the High Hall to heed Lady Jeyne. The lord who sat beneath a banner of green vipers spat out a mouthful of wine that his servants soon wiped away.
"On the morrow," Lady Jeyne announced,"Prince Jacaerys will ride forth on his dragon Vermax to Winterfell, where he shall meet Lord Cregan Stark and win the North to the rightful queen. In the south, Prince Jacaerys's brother Prince Lucerys has won the loyalty of Lord Borros Baratheon and the Stormlander swords, whilst ravens fly to Riverrun, Highgarden, Casterly Rock, and Pyke, whose lords shall rise as I have for King Viserys's chosen heir. The realm stands for its true queen, and the war shall be over ere winter comes." She looked over at Jace, who heeded her gaze and rose to his feet.
"When I ride forth to Winterfell," Jace said,"I take comfort in the fact that I am not alone. That even as my treacherous uncle Aegon sits the Iron Throne, wears the Conqueror's crown, and wields the Conqueror's sword, the realm sees him for the usurper he is. The realm does not forget the vows they swore to my mother, and stand with me beneath the banners of their true queen. Yet even as Winterfell, Storm's End, and a hundred other castles in the Seven Kingdoms declare for my mother, the Eyrie shall remain the first and greatest of them. Aegon the Conqueror conquered his kingdoms with a thousand men. With twenty times more of the true-hearted knights of the Vale, the usurper shall soon be naught but dust and ashes." "To victory," Jace lifted his goblet to the skies in a toast.
"To victory," Lady Jeyne followed Jace as her own goblet rose.
"TO VICTORY," the hall echoed, and in the din of shouts Joff could hear his own shrill voice,"To victory."
"Would my lady join me in a dance?" Jace asked Lady Jeyne once the echoes of the voices died. Jace held out his hand.
"It shall be my pleasure, my prince," Lady Jeyne answered, and took Jace's hand, letting him lead her down to the empty floor of the hall. The singer began to strike up a mellow tune on his harp, its rings trilling across the air.
"Prince Joffrey," a whisper rang at Joff's side, and he turned to see Lady Jessamyn Redfort, whom Lady Jeyne had seated at his side during the feast. Joff knew what duty bid him to do. "Would you care for a dance, Lady Jessamyn?" Joff asked whilst he held out his hand.
"Of course, my prince," Lady Jessamyn smiled and took his hand with her own. Her hand was soft and cold, and Joff held it lightly as he led her down the steps to the floor of the High Hall.
Lady Jessamyn was a woman grown, but Joff was already as tall as she was. It was no trouble twirling with her upon the dance floor, as he watched Jace struggle with Lady Jeyne who was a head shorter than him. But Jace found a way. Jace always found a way. The room spun in a stream of blue and white as the floor filled around them.
"The singers always said that the Targaryens are like gods," Lady Jessamyn said,"I never expected princes to look so alike us common men."
"What does my lady mean by that?" Joff said, feeling a chill begin to stir in his spine.
"We are not fighting for gods that play with mortal lives," Lady Jessamyn smiled,"but for ones amongst us, princes who care."
But Joff suspected what her words truly meant. That he and Jace's looks were that of a commoner. Of Harwin Strong. Joff exchanged pleasantries with Lady Jessamyn for the rest of the song as Jace would have done. When the harpist played his last quiet note, Joff thanked her for the dance and left. Jace was finished also with Lady Jeyne, so Joff strode there and asked Lady Jeyne to a dance. Soon, the singer struck up another song, and Joff spun with Lady Jeyne on the dance floor.
"Did Jess displease my prince?" Lady Jeyne asked,"You have a sour look about your face."
"What have you heard in the Vale about my mother and Harwin Strong?" Joff asked.
"Rumours," Lady Jeyne answered,"and rumours are most like to be false. Repeated by the usurper Aegon's sycophants, which makes it all the more like to be lies crafted with the purpose of delegitimizing my prince's claim and sullying your mother's name."
"Are there any such sycophants in the Vale?" Joff asked,"If I am to stay in the Eyrie, I need to know which men to avoid."
"Lords Hunter, Egen, and Lynderly have all spoken of the rumours in this High Hall," Lady Jeyne answered,"But my prince should chiefly keep clear of Lord Robar Royce, who had urged me ever since he arrived from Runestone to declare for your uncle. Lord Robar resents your Prince Daemon for all the ills he did to Lord Robar's aunt Lady Rhea. Though I assure my prince that beneath my roof when you have taken my bread and salt, Lord Robar shall do no harm to you."
"My lady has my thanks," Joff knew where to go now,"I need not worry of that."
"The Eyrie is glad to serve its prince," Lady Jeyne said, though Joff saw that she had a glint of suspicion in her eye. It remained there all the way until the song ended, when Joff bowed and thanked her for the dance.
Joff searched the hundred banners that lined the blue-veined marble walls of the High Hall until he found the black iron studs of Runestone draped before the fifth pillar from the open gates. Beneath the banner, he saw a tall lord attended by five servants. The lord was wearing a suit of shining bronze armour engraved with runes, and beside him was seated a girl who looked to be of fourteen years. Before Joff stepped in front of the table that hosted the Royces, he looked back to Jace who was dancing with a woman in a green dress of Myrish lace. Jace locked eyes with Joff, and nodded. Joff took the final steps to stand before Lord Robar.
"What pleasure do I owe a prince of the realm?" Lord Robar said.
"I was wondering whether my lord's lovely daughter would grant me a dance," Joff said.
Lord Royce's eyes were hard as stone as they turned to his daughter,"What do you say to the prince, darling?"
"It shall be my pleasure, Prince Joffrey," the Royce maid rose from her seat and curtsied.
"What is your name?" Joff asked her as they faced each other on the dance floor.
"Arya," the Royce maid said.
"Truly?" Joff said,"I have never heard that name before."
"It is a First Man name," Lady Arya replied,"and we Royces are of the old blood. I am curious, though, of my prince's name. Joffrey does not sound Valyrian."
"I was named for my father Ser Laenor Velaryon's most trusted friend and companion," Joff said,"Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, who was a Westerosi."
"You look Westerosi," Lady Arya said,"Brown hair and brown eyes. It seems that Father was right. One of the princes could be by chance. But two… the truth is plain to see."
The inside of Joff's mouth was burning, and the fire inside threatened to spill forth. What would Jace do? Joff looked over Lady Arya's shoulder at his tall brother, and knew that Jace would know to swallow the fire.
"I am flattered that my lady would suggest that my brother and I both took after our grandmother," Joff said,"Princess Rhaenys is said to have been a lustrous beauty in her youth, with dark hair that ran down to her waist."
"Does Princess Rhaenys still have that hair?" Lady Arya asked.
"No," Joff answered,"It is silver with age. She looks like a Targaryen now, though in her heart she always was." Joff spun her to face the gates that opened to the skies,"A heart of fire and blood. Who else but Targaryens can tame dragons? Dragons see who you truly are." He stopped so that Lady Arya's eyes were sealed on the open gate,"One of the dragons in the yard is mine."
"The green one, right," Lady Arya said,"I saw you riding it."
"He is mine," Joff said,"His name is Tyraxes."
"Could you show me?" Lady Arya asked,"I always wanted to see a dragon up close, but Lady Jeyne's guards would let none tread into the yard."
Joff was taken aback, but he soon calmed his face. Like Jace. "I would love to," Joff answered. He grasped her hand and pushed his way through the throng of the crowd. Eyes followed him as he passed, but they all soon turned back to Jace. Joff knew that one day, they would look to Joff too.
The great bronze gates of the High Hall were open to the cool night air, a gentle breeze guarding the pass between the warmth of the hall and the coolness of the autumn night. Lady Arya's hand was stiff as he pulled her out the gates. His own hand was stiff as well, the silver of his rings growing cold on his fingers as the winds blew. The gate of the High Hall was only several hundred steps from the courtyard where he and Jace tethered Tyraxes and Vermax, and Joff could already hear their roars rise above the whistling winds. He saw at the entrance of the courtyard the glint of starlight shining upon silver armour, the mark of the ring of knights set at every entrance to the courtyard. Jace had asked Lady Jeyne to arrange those knights there to prevent the folk of the castle from wandering into a dragon's den.
There were five knights that stood guard at the entrance with an arch of a white painted moon, and they bowed their heads as Joff drew close. "My prince," the youngest amongst them said. He was a man with arched brows, a shaven chin, and three ravens on his surcoat. The scabbard he held at his waist was especially beautiful, glinting of hammered brass and coated in patterned leather that were inlaid with rubies.
"May I enter?" Joff asked,"I wish to see my dragon."
"My prince may enter," the knight of three ravens said,"But not the lady. That is Lady Jeyne's command, confirmed by your elder brother."
"Don't be an arse, Ser Corwyn," an older guard said,"Let the prince have his fun with the lady."
"I promise on my honour as a prince that no harm shall come to Lady Arya," Joff said,"I am the blood of the dragon, and dragons obey my will."
Ser Corwyn stood there for a moment, until at last he relented and stepped aside. Joff strode into the courtyard, his hand still plastered to the stiff hand of Lady Arya. The music of dragons was quiet in the courtyard, as Joff saw Vermax sleeping beneath the great statue of the winged knight, his great blue wings folded over his head as he timely issued a satisfied roar. Tyraxes was restless, though, and paced the length of the courtyard to the ends of his chains. The starlight shone on his emerald scales which glittered eerily bright.
"The green one is yours, right?" Lady Arya whispered in Joff's ear.
"Aye," Joff answered,"Tyraxes."
It was then when Tyraxes saw Joff, and let out a happy greeting. Then, its eyes turned to Lady Arya, and its snout twisted in a snarl.
"Tyraxes does not like strangers," Joff said.
"Does that make him dangerous?" Lady Arya asked.
"If you came alone, aye," Joff answered,"but you came with me, and my scent is on you. But do not let him sense fear, else he would think you a stranger." He turned back to her,"If you want to leave now, say the word."
Lady Arya shook her head,"I want to see a dragon."
"Like I said," Joff said,"Tyraxes does not like strangers. You should have asked my brother to show you a dragon. Vermax is much more pliable." "But…," Joff looked at Lady Arya and met her eyes,"I am glad that you asked me." "Keep your hand with mine at all times," Joff said,"and step only when I step. That way, Tyraxes will know that you are with me."
Lady Arya nodded, and Joff turned back to his dragon. Tyraxes had tried to come to Joff, and had reached the end of his chain. Joff stepped forward, knowing that Lady Arya followed close behind. Step by step, they approached the dragon, and Joff began to feel the warm gusts that issued from Tyraxes's snout. Joff snuck a glance at Vermax, and saw that the dragon was still sleeping. He turned back to Tyraxes, and smiled when he saw that he could glimpse Tyraxes's pupils that shone molten gold. He took one step closer, echoed by Lady Arya's shuffling feet.
"Tyraxes," Joff raised up his hand as he drew close, and felt the green dragon nestle his scaly snout into it as he had done a hundred times before. Joff rubbed Tyraxes's snout, and the dragon let out a contented roar. Joff turned to Lady Arya,"Would you like to touch him?"
Lady Arya nodded, her mouth agape but no words issuing forth. Her eyes were fixed on Tyraxes's shimmering scales that rose and fell in the night as the starlight slid and bent.
"Remember," Joff said,"Raise your hand, and Tyraxes will smell my scent on you. But do not shake, else he would smell fear and think that you are a stranger."
Lady Arya nodded again, and Joff took his hand off Tyraxes's snout. She raised her right hand slowly up, her skin a pearlescent white beneath the shining stars. Her hand drew closer to Tyraxes's snout and her eyes found the dragon's molten slits. The dragon grumbled, and her hand began to shake. Tyraxes snarled.
"Back," Joff shouted, but the dragon had already lunged forward, a ringing ripping the air as the dragon's chain snapped taut. Joff heard a scream, and as his glance fell beside him, his heart filled with dread. There, sprawled upon the floor, Lady Arya's mouth wrenched open in piercing screeches as she cradled the bloody stump where her right hand had been. Joff stepped between her and the dragon, facing Tyraxes's snarling snout, but he did not know what to do. Tyraxes had never snarled at Joff before.
Joff heard steps behind him, and he turned to find the five guards at the door rushing into the courtyard. Ser Corwyn's eyes were agape as his hand tightened on his scabbard.
"One of you," Ser Corwyn shouted,"Fetch Maester Barrabas." All four of his older companions began to run. Ser Corwyn's eyes followed his companions until they disappeared, but he turned to the dragon. He drew his sword, a dark grey blade rippled with smoke that Joff was certain was Valyrian steel.
"No," Joff shouted, but Ser Corwyn stepped forward. The screams behind Joff had faded, and Joff dreaded what that would mean. He heard the stirring of wings as Vermax roused from his sleep. Joff could only get down and cover his ears before the blue dragon raised his head and shuddered the skies with a violent shriek.