"What shall we name him?" Lysa asked.
Jon smiled at the newborn. Bright Tully eyes staring back, but he had his nose. The nose of a falcon lord. He loved him the moment he entered the room. "Jasper. His name shall be Jasper Arryn and he shall bring honor to us all."
The hundreds of horses, wagon wheels, and beasts of burden that accompanied the party carrying the Crowned Stag further, and further up the Neck, and into the domain of the Starks of Winterfell kicked a cloud of dust up.
Arrow struck the ground once more in a steady gallop.
And he was accompanying King Robert towards the seat of Lord Eddard Stark, seeking to name him Hand of the King. Only a few weeks ago, he was merely the Heir of the Eyrie. Only a few weeks ago, his father was Hand of the King, and the world was a simpler place. A fortnight things were even more simple. I thought myself ready; I thought myself so wise. When word was sent of his fathers death, he thought he was ready for the title he had spent years training for. Years of hunts and jousts and training under the relentless Blackfish until every muscle ached and his mind a soggy puddle of information and he thought himself ready.
I was wrong, so very wrong.
And he nearly lost it all.
But the world wouldn't wait for him to be ready. The Lords of the Vale needed him today. Yesterday, I needed to be ready yesterday. House Arryns honor needed to be maintained and her position in court preserved. It was imperative that he traveled north with King Robert to visit his northern cousins with this aim in mind. Though despite the political motivations for the visit, other, lesser feelings preyed on him. Weak thoughts of a stupid boy. A stupid boy that dreamed of siblings or kind mothers and noble fathers.
Maybe I could find something I never had in the Eyrie with the Starks of Winterfell? It was stupid, and he was only going to hurt himself by trying, but with every day they drew closer to Winterfell, he found it harder to suppress.
The ride was pleasant, though it was always his favorite part of the day, feeling the wind kissing his cheeks as he flew down the roads. Horses never judged him, and he didn't have to perform for them. It was the only time he was truly relaxed without the gaze of men following him. For the lords, he was Lord Arryn, gallant and knightly, a man of martial courage who showcased valor on hunts and skills of arms in tourneys. He followed the rules and traditions to the letter, for that was what they expected of him. Even when he was alone, he performed because he had to do it. I have no choice. Arryns have no choice. Where Jasper began and Lord Arryn started, he didn't know? All he knew was As High as Honor was his life, even if he didn't quite understand what those words meant.
A Lord of the Eyrie had to be a true lord, but how could he be a true lord when treachery lived around every corner? Harry, mother, father. Jasper thought, as his vision darkened. My family betrays me with every word and deed.
Everyone save the Blackfish, thank the Father for him. The stubborn old goat was a loyal man, and his only family. Though there were a few others he trusted implicitly, like Lord Baelish or Mya Redfort, I should write to Lord Baelish at the next holdfast and get the latest news from Kings Landing. The grizzled Tully knight taught him how to swing a sword, ride a horse, and how to not be a total little shit. I owe him much. Jasper knew. I owe him more than that. Unlike Jon Arryn, he actually knew what he looked like. The only time he met his father was when the Silent Sisters and an honor guard brought his father's corpse back to the Eyrie. His fathers will and commands were expressed through letters. The content of the correspondence was as cold as ice. Men named him an honorable and kind man, but Jasper saw none of it. It's shameful, I shouldn't think ill of him. He's my father, and he's dead. It was dishonorable to speak ill of the dead. Men said Jon Arryn was the greatest lord in all the realm noble, regal, and wise. At least when Jasper was younger, he believed such. Now, he feared father was more foolish than the courts jester. He had left the great alliance that secured House Arryn, rotting under years of neglect. Why didn't you make more plans, father?
Arrow could sense his discomfort and neighed gently. "Shhh," Jasper whispered. "Easy Arrow, I'm fine."
Arrow's black eyes practically said. I doubt that, master. You can't lie to a horse.
But he grew bored and merely dipped his head, leaving himself to his thoughts. Every time they stopped, the parchment in his satchel would come out, and he would jot down some notes on names that should be appointed towards offices in the king's court. For far too long, they had paid little attention to the men appointed to their positions. When he arrived in Winterfell, he would offer his counsel to Lord Stark the last hope of maintaining an honorable realm.
Together, with Lord Starks help, I'll safeguard the Realm from the ambitions of House Lannister
As High as Honor!
However, it was rare they gave him a moment of peace. It seemed every moment, His Grace would command him to ride by his side, as if he was his son, jesting and laughing with him. The king told bawdy jokes, trying to improve his mood. When lords claimed they had once hated His Grace, when they fought him, but loved him afterwards, Jasper could finally understand that feeling.
It was easy to love the king even if he felt overwhelmed by the attention.
"Caught up in your thoughts, my squire." A figure with a scruffy beard proclaimed, clad in the red and blue of House Tully.
"Former." Jasper replied dryly before kicking the sides of Arrow, and true to his namesake, he flew. The winds wrapped tightly around him as streams, meadows, tiny hamlets, and the cold northern air moved past him. Only when he saw Ser Brynden fading behind him did he command Arrow to halt his progress; dismounting from his beast somewhat gracefully. Retrieving an apple from the local hamlet, purchased with some bronze coins that Arrow devoured greedily until the tired white-haired beast came clopping up the road.
"Took you long enough, ser."
Ser Brynden snorted as he took a drink from his canteen. "Unlike you, I was enjoying a leisurely ride, not riding like some reckless fool."
"I knew exactly what I was doing," Jasper said, the corner of his lips twisting up. "It can hardly be reckless if you are good." And if there was one thing he knew he was good at, it was riding a horse and holding a lance. He was decent with a sword and other weapons of war, but on horseback, he was better than them all. "Apple?" He offered.
Ser Brynden mumbled. "No, Jasper, you are a greenboy pissing grass." He said as he snatched the apple and took a bite. "Apple is decent, though." And then took another bite.
Jasper bristled. "I'm hardly a green boy." He stiffened at the insinuation he couldn't fulfill his responsibilities.. "I've won tourneys, I've fought Mountain Clansman, and I've hunted fierce beasts. How am I still a green boy when I've done these things?"
"You'll always be a green boy that pisses grass to me." He rubbed his chin. "No matter how many hairs you grow on your chest."
Jasper chuckled. "Your impossible to please. You know that, you old trout."
"Pissy squire."
"PISSYYY?! DID SOMEONE SAY PISSY SQUIRES!" King Robert's voice roared as the hefty battle-horse came tumbling after them. The Kingsguard left in his dust. "You aren't talking about Arryn, are you? He's a god amongst men compared to my useless squires. He's actually a valiant hunter any father would be proud of. Taking down that boar was damn impressive lad!" The voice of the king was good-natured, and warm. Even with the smell of wine upon his breath and perfume that clung to him, he still looked kingly upon horseback. The attention was a bit much, if slightly, flattering.
"My squire Lancel fainted at the sight of blood! Blood!" King Robert laughed deeply until he nearly tittered off his saddle. "What a girl he is! A squire fainting at the sight of blood. Ha!" And that did sound girlish, but the amount of honors afforded to House Lannister even more troubling. All of King Roberts squires were Lannister kinsman.
Jasper whitened by the praise. "Thank you, your grace," he said. "You flatter me, but I'm only as good because of Ser Brynden efforts." He waved him off. "He's a better hunter than I."
A sad smile crossed the king's face, his shoulders twisted under the pressure like some deformed hunchback. " You are honorable, Jasper, and the pride and joy of Jon. I know that. Gods, he was proud of you." His grace sniffled. "I miss him. Jon was a true man who taught me what was what. He shall be missed."
Jasper shook his head. "I was not his only son." His lips twirled in a mournful smile as he practiced. "You were as well, Your Grace. My father drew the greatest satisfaction that you kept that simple hunting knife above all others." The kings eyes were tearing as he threw his enormous arms around him, and brought him in close.
"My king." Jasper croaked out, struggling for breath. He may be broad, but King Robert was very broad. Baratheons were built something special.
Tears were flowing down his cheeks. "Damn you, boy. We'll make Jon proud me, you, and Ned!"
"And will you crush Lord Stark to death?" Jasper's red face said weakly.
King Robert laughed and laughed until his meaty arms allowed air to flow into his lungs. Jasper shamefully took gasps of air into his lungs. He always had struggled with breathing, especially when he was younger. Though age seemed to improve it somewhat.
The king continued to laugh long after he disappeared from view, and Ser Brynden said. "You handled that deftly, squire."
"I showed him only the courtesy expected of a lord towards his king."
Ser Brynden chuckled. "Modesty, a trait of a good knight."
"I'm a lord." He corrected.
Jasper hoped, and hoped, that father would have stronger, and able heirs after him. Heirs, that could help in his duty as Lord of the Eyrie and provide him counsel and support with all the buzzards circling around him waiting for a single mistake. But his mother, Lady Lysa Tully, the daughter of Lord Hoster, only bore himself, and his sickly brother Robert Arryn.
And Robert couldn't share this burden with him.
Falcons soar alone. Jasper knew, and he was a dutiful son. Very dutiful. He thought with deep sorrow. "You well lad?" Grand Uncle Brynden asked. "You look elsewhere." And he wished he could share these worries, but there were some things even the famed Blackfish couldn't solve and he would rather not talk about it. He needed to say something to throw him off the scent, something believable and honest, or he would get no rest.
"Oh, I'm just thinking about Lord Stark and my cousins." He sighed. "I've met none of them." And he did not know how to treat any of them. How do you treat cousins? His attempt with Harry had not gone well, and it filled him with dread at making the same mistakes. This was his last shot at something more than honor. Jasper guessed warmer than polite courtesies for vassals because they were kin, but they were also strangers. He knew nothing about his cousins. I shall be formal and keep them at arms length until he knew what to do with them. But he knew everything about Lord Eddard Stark. He grew up on all the stories of Roberts Rebellion and Lord Starks role, of all fathers wards it was said Eddard Stark upheld Arryn honor better than anyone.
His uncle gave a wry smile and bridged the gap between them, grasping his shoulder. Jasper nearly flinched from the contact. "Don't worry, grand nephew. Focus on the fact you'll be among family shortly. You'll be among your cousins, as should have been done many years ago."
"And if I err?" Jasper whispered uncertainly.
"Then you have a bunch of irksome cousins." He chuckled. "Relax. Don't overthink it, Jasper. You'll get along with them." And he hoped so it would be nice to feel something else in his chest again.
Jasper gave a nervous laugh and raised a reddish eyebrow. "Oh," He said dryly. "I'll try no promises, though."
Ser Brynden snorted, and Jasper didn't feel any dismay or worry about meeting his aunt and his cousins for the first time. With the bravest knight in the Seven Kingdoms, how could he disappoint anyone? Since he became Lord of the Eyrie, he discovered he could trust only his good uncle to give him good counsel. Even Lord Royce, a leal and honorable man, was focused upon the honor of his house. And mother… Jasper darkened. It's best not to think of her. Despite everything, he hoped his cousins would be different and would be like happy families in the stories. Life as Lord of the Eyrie was a lonely one and he could use some company instead of vassals and subjects. If only I knew how. To live as High as Honor required distance, and he lived his life as Lord Arryn from dawn to dusk. Jasper was simply a memory of a dream.
"Yet Prince Joffrey has slighted myself. Has he not?"
Ser Brynden twisted around. "Quiet boy! Don't be stupid by giving that life!"
"Yet, I fear it's true."
"Mayhaps, but you must be weary. You shouldn't make an enemy needlessly. Especially a boy whom will be king."
"And if I'm already one to him?" Jasper's voice lowered.
"Then be thankful you live high in the mountains. Hard to reach without a dragon." Ser Brynden said.
And it was true the Eyrie was hard to reach. A comfortable prison in the sky.
Two squires from the Vale surrounded him once they returned from their ride. They nursed over every blemish on his surcoat, and rich blue cloak edged with silver. He gave orders to washerwomen that accompanied the party to prepare a bath for himself. Jasper thanked every servant and squire by name, and they smiled in return. And he allowed them to say whatever crossed their minds, though often enough he merely listened, and nodded along.
Minor complaints, minor worries
They were the small folk after all, and lords listened to complaints of lessers.
However, when Jon Waynwood offered to brush Arrow, he shrugged.
"Nay, Jon, I shall do so. Both of you are dismissed."
My friend.
A simple beast was hardly an appropriate friend for an Arryn, but it was the simple truth
With a golden brush, he combed out the burs and pine needles that covered his silky cloak. Every brush calmed his heart. Seeing Arrows cost shined released the tension of his arms like a bow half strung. Being the Lord of the Eyrie, and Warden of the East faded until his heart had nearly stilled. The nightmare that haunted him disappeared like a whiff of smoke for a moment. It was nearly happy. His eyes closed. Blistering wind from the Moondoor kissed his cheeks as screams echoed. The snapping of a twig brought him back to the land of the living. Jaspers heart raced like a horse. Cold steel breathed in the open. He was under attack and needed to defend himself! The bruises on his chest had yet to fade. Panic overcame his limbs, his skin turned pale as snow. The slender blade of simple steel with a falcon pommel cut through the air. Soon, bodies would be dropped onto the grassy fields. He would make his stand with courage.
"My lord." Prince Tommen stumbled backwards.
The princesses arm protected him dutifully. Both of their cheeks were bright red. "Lord Arryn, we didn't mean to disturb you." She said, with little lack of courtesy. Even afraid she fulfilled her part well.
Jasper lowered his sword and offered an apologetic smile. "A prince, nor a princess, should apologize to a mere lord." His cheeks were hot with shame. "Especially when I was in the wrong."
"In that we must disagree." Princess Myrcella said. "We disturbed you. Horribly rude on our parts. Isn't that right, Tom?" She gave the slightly pudgy prince a sharp nudge with her elbow.
Prince Tommen nodded in agreement. Still curiosity burned between them. Other children he would have sent away after a few kind words. But they were King Roberts children. Formality had to be observed. He could not send them running with ill feelings.
"Come." Jasper offered. "Take a seat with myself. Arrow doesn't bite, I swear."
Myrcella smiled sweetly with her brother in hand. He allowed them a rare honor to brush him. Any of the stableboys would seethe with jealousy. They were rather timid at first, but before long they were spoiling his poor friend. Princess Myrcella giggled, and Prince Tommen smiled widely. Sweet children for days of Summer. Jasper thought. But winter would come eventually. When it came, these innocent moments would become a dream. In the Eyrie it was always blistering cold, even in the heat of summer. It could make a man hard. Or spare a weak one. Which am I, the former or the latter?
All a lord could do was try. Let the Gods judge me, if I fail.
With childlike wonder, both of them talked with him until the sun fell in the distance. Prince Tommen had a kind heart and his sister seemed more intelligent and sweeter of nature. It was strange he had never found their company until now. I wonder if Prince Joffrey is as kind, and good as he had yet to meet the boy save a brief meeting when he joined the party towards Winterfell. He seemed a gallant prince. At least in the king's presence. Tall and strong, with bright green Lannister eyes, with a well-made doublet, he cut quite the princely figure. Yet, he slighted him without properly attempting to make his acquaintance. It had to be that dishonorable Lannister Queen swaying noble Prince Joffrey.
Father always wrote poorly of the Queens influence over the future king.
"I'm sorry about your father, Lord Jasper." Princess Myrcella said suddenly. "He was a good man."
"He gave me apples to feed his horses!" Prince Tommen piped up.
Jasper chuckled. "Then I better keep such tradition alive." And tossed him an apple from the orchard.
Arrows eyes seem to go wide. I'm going to make off like a bandit!
Princess Myrcella's bright green eyes narrowed as she frowned in puzzlement. "Tis strange you didn't agree about your father. Did I give offense? Were you not close?"
Jasper's eyes narrowed in amusement. How did you pick up that? He wondered. It was very keen of her. "You gave no offense, princess." He gave his public smile. "I only knew my father from letters and he was a good man. A noble man, but I didn't know him that well." He knew that was the truth of the matter. Jon Arryn lived their House words, but not with him and the shameful bitterness lingered under his skin. I shamed him. I look too much like mother. Red-haired and light blue eyes, he held the tully look save for his father's distinctive falcon like nose, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter he was tall with broad shoulders and a strong frame from days' training in the yard. He was ashamed of me. Jasper knew.
Prince Tommen bobbled his head as solemnly as a boy of 12 could and Jasper twisted his head up and saw Princess Myrcella nodding in agreement.
"That's very sad." Princess Myrcella said softly. "Lord Jon often spoke of you. I know he must have been proud."
"You are too kind for this world, princess."
Both of them shivered lightly. They were unaccustomed to the cold. Skin turning as white as snow. He wrapped his cloak around them. " The queen would never forgive me if you both got a chill."
Princess Myrcella said. "How chivalrous!"
"Unlike Joffrey." Tommen whispered hesitantly. He looked as if the Gods would strike him down. Did he fear his brother? What younger brother is afraid of his elder? This was a poor omen.
Regardless, Jasper didn't comment on the affairs of the Royal Family. A lord should not trouble himself, unless beckoned. "Well." Jasper said." I believe the hour grows late. You should be taken back to your tents."
"But I'm not tired." Prince Tommen said, suppressing a yawn.
"Then it must be the wind playing tricks on my ears for I hear a yawn."
Taking both of them by the hand, they departed for the Royal pavilion. Halfway, Prince Tommen had fallen asleep, and Jasper lifted him up into his arms, carrying him like a newborn. Gods, he was heavy. They passed squires tending to suits of armor, knights gathered around fires telling bawdy jokes. Wearing the Lannister Lion, and the Baratheon yellow and black. Though, surprising enough, they had launched no search parties for the children. None of the Queens men seemed alarmed. Did they not miss the children? It was negligent and foolish, but not his worry.
Setting Prince Tommen onto the ground. The princess wrapped his pudgy arms around her shoulders." Twas an honor princess." He said cheerfully. "You and your brother both brightened this dreary day."
Oddly enough, she kissed him on the cheek. "And you were gallant, my lord. I know we were imposing."
"No-"
She cut him off. "We were." She used a gentle, but understanding voice. "It's okay, we won't do it again." All Jasper could do was kneel. He kissed her knuckles."Mayhaps," He said, taking his rich Arryn cloak from her shoulders. "But sometimes it's a good thing. Otherwise I would not have learned the treasure that is your wit." Her cheeks became rather flushed. "Now, I promise to give you a dance in Winterfell. Your grace. A rare honor, I promise." He winked.
Prince Tommen snored rather loudly.
"Oh, that would be lovely, my lord." Princess Myrcella said, but her dainty cheeks were horribly red. Some snowflakes were floating down into her blond curls. In time, she would become as beautiful as the Queen. Jasper could see His Grace fending off the suitors from Sunspear to the Wall with his war hammer. Yet, all he could see was that fearful look from Prince Tommen. It tore at him. Was she in danger from her brother? Should he involve himself? Formality commanded his tongue remained tied, but honor to the Crown demand he speak.
So many rules.
The conflict must have been plain, for Princess Myrcella gazed at him curiously. "You look troubled, my lord. Have we truly troubled you so?"
Jasper snorted. "Nay princess." Rubbing his pant legs. "It's just…" He paused, trying to collect the proper words. " Just something your brother said that has filled me with unease." He sighed. "Listen, if you or your brother need anything big or small, please come to me. I shall help, I swear." He vowed. "Anything at all."
"I see your fathers kindness in you." She chuckled. "But you are a terrible liar, I must confess, even for a son of Jon Arryn. I'll pray you shall improve. My family could use good men to defend the Crown."
Jasper shifted uneasily at the praise. "And Prince Joffrey, what sort of man is he?"
"What do you think?"
"He struck me as a prince from some storybook." Jasper confessed. "Tall and gallant. No doubt a knight of great courage."
"I suppose he is those things." Princess Myrcella said quietly.
Far too quiet. Is this the type of man that'll be king? One whom inspires fear in his sweet younger siblings. Father must have known, but he had said nothing to him. Jasper could scarcely think of a reason. How could he let this come to pass? Such a man could not honor the contract between Arryn and the Crown. It would be a pledge of endless blood and ruin.
Jasper frowned. I see what I must do. Honor of House Arryn had to be preserved. If Prince Joffrey was truly this wretched, he would have to be removed from the line of succession through lawful means. If the Seven were just, this was just a misunderstanding and he would remain loyal and true. However, if such was true… Ice filled his veins. Only a threat, a true viable replacement, could protect the children and the position of Arryn. Only the pudgy Prince Tommen remained as an option. A far cry from a martial figure whom could earn the love of lords and ladies alike and earn a kings favor. A diamond in the rough. If they fostered him with himself, he could turn him into a prince King Robert would name heir. Surely King Robert wouldn't refuse him? And he had planned to get Cousin Brandon to squire…
A second son of the Hand and the spare prince. Jasper mused. How our honor will soar!
Jasper remembered the story of his father's wards. Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon and how they toppled the dragons. House Arryn had never soared higher! Why his father had not made these plans for himself was a constant source of vexation? Fostering's and marriage alliances. The bread and butter of lords to secure honor.
"But I've been told not to judge a book by its cover." He spoke in a hushed whisper. It would not be wise to speak so brazenly about a prince. "My vow remains the same. You should worry, sweet princess, all will be well, I swear it."
Her green eyes sparkled with weariness. She doesn't believe me. Jasper knew. "You'll see." He promised again. Whether the princess understood mattered little. She was a woman and couldn't be faulted for such dimness. They had different roles to play.
"Oh, Lord Arryn it's-"
"Are we there?" Prince Tommen interrupted, half asleep, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, we are." She answered quickly.
When she departed, and Jasper disappeared back into the darkness of the camp with the flickering lights and the mumbled voices dimming. The night was coming to a close. Even the drunks were about to fall into straw mats or some feathery beds. Once passed all that behind the curtains of his pavilion. The consequences of such a realization at his course of action revealed itself.
Gods, am I really plotting such treason? Am I really playing this game?
Jasper tried not to think of the thoughts, but they overwhelmed him as they always did when he broke any rules. Rules were the foundation of the realm. Lords expected Arryns to be as High as Honor. Honor all oaths. Follow the laws of the realm. Be perfect. A paragon of chivalry and decency. Not plot to undermine the line of succession, but he would not be left in the dirt. He was going to secure the future of his house for the good of the Vale.
As High as Honor!
If he got any sleep that night, it was scant. He woke up nought under sheets, but clutching sleek fur. Some time during the night he must have sought Arrows company. Those big chestnut eyes held no judgement. With a loud snort, it nuzzled him gently. "Thank you." Jasper said weakly. He smelled of straw and grass. The head washerwoman looked close to tears when she saw him. Jasper only gave a lordly shrug, and his lessers did their duties. They scrubbed and washed the dirt away. His Belmore squire snuck in nervously as they shaved him. "My lord." He looked down. "His Grace is expecting your presence to dine."
"Thank you, squire." He dismissed with a curt nod like a lord should.
Winterfell couldn't arrive quickly enough.
Timeline Ages Battle of the Trident 283AC
Arrival in Winterfell 300AC
Character Ages
Jasper 283 AC Ages 17
Robb 283AC Ages 17
Jon 283AC Ages 17
Joffrey 284AC Ages 16
Myrcella 285AC Ages 15
Sansa 285AC Ages 15
Tommen 288AC Ages 12
Arya 289AC Ages 11
Bran 290AC Age 10
Rickon 294AC Age 6