Ned,

Everything has been going fine in Dorne, even if we've been kept a bit longer than I initially planned. Please don't call the banners on my behalf. More than a few of my fellow bannermen wouldn't like that very much.

Jon is doing quite well. As happy as a pig in shit, if I say so myself. Even managed to convince both Garlan and Margaery Tyrell to come back to the North with us.

By the time this letter reaches you, we'll be heading back to White Harbor in some ships kindly given to us by Prince Doran. He sends his regards.

As for Prince Oberyn, he has elected to come along with us. He says he wants to "see if Northerners know how to remove the stick up their asses," or something along those lines.

And, I'd have Ashara set to getting celebrations together. I can't say too much over a letter, except that I'll be needing your Godswood. I hope you don't mind, but I'll let you figure out the rest.

Warm regards,

Starag

Dragonstone

294 AC

"Where are we going, Jon?"

Jon Stark hadn't a single clue about where he'd planned to take Margaery. Right now, he had made it his mission to surprise her, and himself for that matter.

They'd arrived on the isle of Dragonstone just earlier that morning. Rhae Sand had apparently convinced both his uncle and Oberyn to visit only for a few hours at the least. Jon had no objections. He'd never been to Dragonstone before.

It was much windier than he'd expected, and there was a permanent tinge of dull grey in the rock, sand, and wood docks. It thoroughly reminded him of the North. His home.

The salt breeze clung to the air as grey clouds hung over them. Jon had overheard Oberyn saying that it would rain sometime soon. So, he'd just have to make the most of their time on the island.

As such, Uncle Starag had given him a small purse of gold dragons before they arrived to spend on whatever he wanted. Jon was sufficiently excited to be given so much money just for a brief visit.

He felt strangely accustomed to Dragonstone like he'd been away far too long from a home he never even knew about. It was a sort of intense feeling of relieved homesickness, and he really didn't know why.

As he led Margaery by the hand through the crowded market, they nimbly weaved their way around the gathered smallfolk, who had watched the two children with sweet smiles and laughing eyes. Nobody was unpleasant towards them, not even the sailors.

Nearby, he had seen Obara Sand walking around the market stalls, pretending to be mildly interested in whatever was being sold. Though, occasionally, her black-brown eyes would find themselves locked onto Jon.

He didn't mind that she'd been sent to guard him or whatnot. Jon just wanted to get off that ship for a good while. He absolutely disliked boats and the wrenching feeling they induced in his stomach.

There were more than a few times during the voyage when he'd almost heaved up his food overboard. Immediately, Jon wished that they'd instead gone on horseback through Westeros all over again, even through the dreaded Neck.

Can't be all that bad… He told himself with a short sigh. Suck it up, Jon.

He had absolutely no clue about what to expect on Dragonstone, much less what was usually sold in the market. His dark gray eyes finally settled on one such stall, one that had plenty of shiny ornaments on display that looked to be made out of a stone he couldn't recognize.

His curiosity absolutely intrigued, Jon approached the stand with Margaery just a few steps behind him. They stopped just in front of the stall, as nobody else had been in line.

Jon didn't really understand why. All the pieces on display were absolutely beautiful. They shimmered in all sorts of colors and shapes, though mostly black. When he reached out to touch one of them, he found that the shiny rock baubles were warm to the touch.

"Dragonglass…" Margaery swooned at his side. She scanned over the whole display and grinned. "They're beautiful."

The old man on the other side of the display had leaned upwards on his cane and hobbled over. His slow movements hadn't surprised Jon. "Why thank you, young lady. I mine it from the beach caves here on Dragonstone. Lord Stannis is very kind to let me ply my trade." He said as to make small talk with the young couple.

Jon had never seen dragonglass before. Though he had heard by Maester Luwin that it had been folded into Valyrian Steel, and was supposedly what had given the shimmering black steel its hardness and incomparable edge. Aside from magic and spells, of course.

He scanned over the contents of the stall with dark gray eyes. Nothing, in particular, had stuck out to him, at least nothing that interested him. Margaery was more interested in the carved-out shapes of animals, butterflies most of all.

An idea came to Jon Stark at that moment. He didn't necessarily want anything from the stall itself, but he supposed he could get something for Margaery.

He looked over the contents once again and saw a quaint basket of brooches, the kind that held cloaks so they would not fall to the ground.

They were all in the shapes of animals and such, though not that it really mattered to Jon. He was disappointed that there hadn't been one of a direwolf, otherwise, he would've taken it.

However, Jon did see a green-gold dragon with three heads. The Targaryen sigil. He picked it up and held it for a moment. It too was warm to the touch.

"How much for this one?" He asked.

The old man snickered softly. "Ah, an excellent choice, lad. I normally charge 50 silver stags for that one, but for you, I'll go to 25."

Uncle Starag had already versed Jon on what sales were. And while Jon didn't consider himself an expert in the field, he knew that 25 silver stags were really just the price the man was aiming for from the beginning.

That aside, he didn't have a single silver stag on him. Jon only had around twenty gold dragons with him. Uncle Starag didn't believe in using copper or silver.

"See, as Northern Barbarians, it falls to us to show the rest of the Seven Kingdoms that we don't give a rat's ass about their silver and copper." His uncle had said to him on the ship. "Do you see Tywin Lannister opening his coin purse and counting his coppers? The Lannisters didn't become the wealthiest House in Westeros from penny-pinching their way to the top."

That conversation had tied in perfectly with the memory of when Jon and his uncle had gone to buy his lute. Uncle Starag had overpaid back then. He really didn't seem to care about how accurate he was with his spending.

And the literal tons of gold on the ships probably helped flesh out that belief, too.

Jon supposed it really didn't matter in the end and had slipped his fingers into his coin purse and produced a single gold dragon.

He slid it across the table and was sure that the old man might pass out on the spot. "B-B-But-"

"Is that enough?" Jon asked with a knowing grin. Of course, it was.

The old man managed to nod his head as he blinked in stark confusion at the single gold coin. That was probably more than he made in a moon, or perhaps even a year. "It is, but perhaps I should give you some-"

"Not needed at all, thank you." Jon smiled brightly at the old man. He took the dragonglass brooch and pocketed it.

All the while, Margaery had stared at him open-mouthed, her large brown eyes marveling at the casual spending of gold. For a brief moment, Jon felt a deep sense of triumph over the girl. It was good that he could still surprise her.

"Here," He said as he fixed the brooch onto the clasp of her cloak. "This is for you."

Margaery blinked in shock at the three-headed dragon now attached to her cloak. "What is this for?" She asked. Her voice was soft and delicate.

"For coming along," Jon said as he removed his hands from the clasp of her thick woolen cloak. "There. It will always keep you warm from now on."

The girl said nothing as she looked from Jon, and then to the dragonglass bauble. A great burst of blood had welled up underneath her cheeks, causing her to blush madly even in the cold wind of Dragonstone.

Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the corner of his lips. They were plump and soft and oh how he wondered what in the blazes had just happened.

For only a moment, Jon Stark was completely dazed out of his mind as he recalled how Margaery kissed him. Hadn't he wondered what it would feel like back in Dorne?

Well, now he knew. And he absolutely loved it.

Starag Mormont stepped carefully onto the light green grass, feeling it crunch softly beneath his feet as he went along the dirt pathway that led deeper into Aegon's Garden.

Why, by the Old Gods, had he gone along with this?

When Rhaenys had asked if they could stop at Dragonstone, Mormont had half a mind to refuse her. He did, however, decide that it would be good for her.

As long as Stannis Baratheon wasn't home, of course.

Luckily for the girl, the Lord of Dragonstone was in King's Landing doing his part as Master of Ships. Their party had been greeted by the short and-rather muscular- figure of Axell Florent, the Castellan of Dragonstone.

And while of course, he was not wholly friendly towards Mormont or the Dornish party, he was kind enough to both Garlan and Margaery and had even invited Jon up to the Stone Drum for tea.

Ser Axell had done his best to hide his relief when Starag had told him that they wouldn't be staying long. The feeling between the two men was mutual.

Rhaenys, of course, hadn't been sated with the simple fishing village on the island and had asked if they could go to Aegon's Garden. Mormont had gone up to the keep with her, Oberyn, and Garlan.

Meanwhile, he'd sent Obara, Tyene, and Nymeria along with Jon and Margaery. There was also no harm in giving Jon a little money to spend.

Almost immediately, Mormont and Rhaenys had broken away from the main party and began exploring the black stone citadel on their own. He was greeted by many stone dragons holding torches dotted along the walls, and almost every single doorway was set in a dragon's mouth.

Rhaenys had known the halls like the back of her hand and had even shown him the secret passages around the various nooks and crannies of the Stone Drum. She gave him a sly smile when she showed him the narrow passway that led between her old room and the Lord's Quarters.

"One time, Father was taking an afternoon nap-he was a bit ill at the time- and I wanted him to come play hide-and-seek with me," Rhaenys whispered as they walked the halls arm in arm. "But he always kept his door locked. So, in order to wake him up, I got a bucket of cold water and snuck into his room through that passage." She pointed down the passway.

Mormont snickered. "And then?" How his younger self would have loved to hear such a story about Rhaegar Targaryen being pranked on by his daughter.

She tried to keep herself from outright laughing. "I climbed onto his bed and dumped the water over his head!" She giggled into her palm.

Then the two had soon found themselves outside in Aegon's Garden, where, Mormont had reluctantly decided to play a quick round of hide-and-seek with his betrothed.

Rhaenys had giggled delightedly at his grinding acceptance and immediately raced away as he closed his eyes and began counting to thirty.

It had probably been a setup the whole time, as Rhaenys had an unfair advantage over him considering she had grown up running around this garden. Still, Starag Mormont was determined to make another notch in his list of victories.

And this time, he'd more than take his prize.

Mormont walked quietly into the hedge maze that sprawled in the middle of the garden. It wasn't nearly as expansive as the one in Highgarden, but it was impressive nonetheless. After more than a few winding turns, he found himself in the center of the maze.

In the middle of the small courtyard was a massive pillar made of jagged black stone, likely dragonglass by the look of it. It had arms that curved upward into jagged wings, and sitting atop it was a gleaming dragon's head.

Mormont approached it and touched it gently with his fingers. It was hot on his cold hands.

He turned around when he heard a slight shifting behind the hedge wall just a few meters to his left. It had to be her.

Pretending he hadn't heard the noise, Mormont gave out a sharp huff, switched around on his feet, and left the way he came. There was a solid chance that Rhaenys was watching him after all.

He traced his footsteps back until he was outside the maze. Then, he circled along the curved edge as silently as possible, until he came upon the left side corner he was looking for.

Climbing the bramble would only give him away. Instead, he spotted a gaping hole that nearly anyone could crawl through. And just barely in the corner, Mormont could see his prize watching the middle courtyard through her own spyhole through the leaves.

Preparing himself for a few scrapes, Mormont decided to get it over with. He elongated his body and jumped swiftly through the massive hole, feeling sturdy wood twigs grind and snag against his coat.

Mormont came out the other side and landed on the opposite wall head-first. His impact was broken by a mouthful of leaves.

"Oh!" Rhaenys squealed as she shot her head around to see the disruption. She blushed madly as Starag got back onto his feet with a few shallow red marks on his face.

"Look at who we have here…" Mormont said as he dusted himself off for dirt and leaves. He ignored the small cuts on his face and strode forward. "A dragon who has seem to have gotten lost, hmmm?"

"I'll have you know, barbarian," Rhaenys stood up and lifted her nose in a haughty gaze, as to keep up with their little game. "I'm a prim and proper lady. Should anything happen to me, my uncle will see to you personally."

Mormont wrapped a single hand around her waist and pulled her flush toward him. Their bodies ground up against one another in aroused excitement. "I think you're full of it, Lady Targaryen."

He swiftly took her into his arms and kissed her firmly on the lips. He then slid his hand down her exquisite waist, and then down her toned thigh. The whole time, Rhaenys' breathing had quickened.

Starag slid his hand underneath the flap of her skirt and drew it upward. She made him play a silly game, and she'd have to pay the price accordingly.

"H-here?" Rhaenys blushed furiously as she realized what he wanted. "But we can't! Surely someone will-"

"Not if you stay quiet." Mormont cut her off firmly. He pulled up her dress sharply, completely revealing her pale toned legs to him. "And I won."

That sheepishly aroused smile had spread across her face once more. "You did win…" She admitted. Her arms slung around his neck.

Mormont let his cloak fall to the grass. He spread it out and lay the girl gently on top of it. She gazed back up at him with loving violet eyes.

"You know…" He began as he ran his cold palm down her flat stomach. She was warm. Rhaenys was always warm. "Oberyn told me you only liked women."

Rhaenys laughed unexpectedly. Like a little girl would after hearing a lame joke. Her hands settled on his own and pushed his fingers down towards her core.

"I've never met a man before." She said with quick, shallow breaths. The nipples on her large breasts had hardened through her dress.

Mormont smirked to himself. He said nothing more as he descended on the open and waiting pink lips.

Nobody disturbed them, save a few birds.

The softly rocking sway of the ship as it sailed through the night was a pleasant comfort to Rhaenys Targaryen.

She lay naked on the large bed and soft wool pillows and furs. Her pale-gold skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and her back was flush against her lover's hard and lean body.

Starag's arms were wrapped around her waist and chest, his inner forearm had grazed her nipples, and had unwittingly teased her sensitivity there. All the nerves in her breasts were firing off like a thousand dragonflies in her upper body.

It had probably been the day they left for White Harbor that they had begun lovemaking. Even though she was supposed to be the chaste and innocent one, Rhaenys found she could not stop herself from tearing off her Bear's clothes piece-by-piece until she was confronted with his burning hot cock.

Even now, as they both lay spent in the cool evening breeze, she still felt his hard and firm length inside of her, teasing her to move her hips so they could begin again. And likely a few more times after that.

Rhaenys didn't care that they had broken tradition. In fact, she was more embarrassed that she really didn't know how to please him in bed.

She'd had no prior experience with men. And even still, Rhaenys could hardly count her encounters with other women.

Their first time had… stung quite a bit for her. Her Bear had held her close to him while she shed tears over the sharp and sweet pain that swept inside her. Then, she saw his cock dripping with her maiden's blood. It was a relishing sight. She had been claimed by him.

Starag himself hadn't been shy about what he wanted from her, which in itself was quite refreshing for Rhaenys. Women-with the exception of her cousins- had tended to be more indirect with their intentions. Something Rhaenys had experienced plenty of during her previous sexual encounters.

He took her many times since then in all sorts of positions. Though her favorite was when she was being taken from behind, with Starag pumping his thick cock in and out of her wet core while he firmly gripped her hips.

While it had been uncomfortable at first, Rhaenys found herself addicted to his cock more and more each time. She wanted to squeeze every last drop of his seed out of it. It was a challenge for her.

Rhaenys wouldn't have even been surprised if she was carrying his child at this point.

What will his name be? She wondered to herself. It would absolutely have to be a boy. A son. Her son. Starag's son.

The mere thought of Rhaenys holding a large babe in her spindly arms had excited her immensely. He'd have his father's charcoal black ringlets and her own violet eyes. Perhaps he'd have more pronounced Valyrian features. Like the stern jawline and high cheekbones that belonged to her family.

And who would come after him? A girl? Would she have Starag's hair or her own? Or maybe she'd have the white-gold spun locks of the Targaryens?

All of their children would be far taller than Rhaenys. Something she had absolutely no objection to. It was probably a Mormont trait, not to mention that the Targaryens had tended to be taller more often than not.

"What are you thinking of?" Her Bear had grumbled tiredly.

Rhaenys glanced up at him with loving violet eyes. "Our children."

He snorted in response. "Of course you are."

She reached up her hand and cupped his grizzled bearded cheek with her palm. His beard was getting unkempt. She'd have to shave it.

Rhaenys made a mental note of that for later. "And what about you?" She asked softly. "What are you thinking about?"

His hand squeezed her right ass cheek. Immediately she began to feel herself heat up, her reserves of energy would probably be needed for another round of hard and fast lovemaking.

Despite her anticipation, Starag had let out a sigh. "Just thinking of home," he said simply.

Home. She thought to herself. Dragonstone was her home. Then the Water Gardens. And now Bear Island would soon replace it.

"What about it?" Rhaenys asked further. They hadn't spoken much about Bear Island yet. Starag seemed reluctant to speak on it.

In part, she already knew why. He had told her of what his older brother, Jorah Mormont, had done to get the family into trouble. He spent all of House Mormont's money on his ungrateful wife, Lynesse Hightower…

Then he had decided to borrow gold from moneylenders in Braavos…

And finally, he had gotten the bright idea to sell poachers to a Tyroshi slaver in order to pay off said moneylenders. All because of one girl's lavish appetites.

Even better, he fled to Essos to escape punishment, bringing further shame on House Mormont.

Rhaenys had assured him that she only wanted him. Nothing else. Perhaps at some point, when they were in a better spot, she'd have a library built. But all she needed was the books in her trunk and Starag.

And his cock. The traitorous thought came to her, and she blushed fiercely. She tried very hard to push that thought out of her mind for the moment.

Starag, however, seemed to be in a generous mood tonight. "I'll be needing everything to run smoothly in Bear Keep, and in Fisher's Ridge while I get to work on building a sturdy source of income for us." He ran his finger down her neck and in between her breasts. "That will be your job. Understand?"

She nodded. "Of course."

He continued. "That means I don't want any fighting or complaining going on. And I'll need you to record any extra matters that I need to be reminded of. I'll be running a tight ship in Bear Keep, and you'll be my secretary."

"Don't you mean First Mate?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Starag shook his head. "No, that will be Maege. However, don't let her push you around. Her or any of my cousins for that matter."

Rhaenys nodded again in understanding. Obviously, his aunt would take seniority over her when it came to running Bear Keep. She could deal with that. "And what should I expect from them? Your family?"

That singular lightning-blue eye she had come to love looked directly at her. "I'll be honest. They likely won't be happy about it, as they weren't very impressed by the last Lady Mormont. But they'll just have to pound sand."

She looked at him thoughtfully. She'd have to find out all she could about Maege Mormont, and probably Dacey as well. If she won them over, then the rest would likely follow as well. "What about your aunt? What would her ideal Lady Mormont be like?"

Her Bear had raised a curious eyebrow. "Excellent question." He said with an approving smirk. "She'd like someone sturdy and competent. Someone who can get things done efficiently and make everything run smoothly."

Of course. Rhaenys' predecessor had apparently done naught all but sat around and complained about the cold. That would grate on anyone, much less the short-tempered Maege Mormont.

"Someone who can handle a little cold, perhaps?" Rhaenys matched her betrothed's grin.

Starag kissed her forehead. Suddenly, a shower of sparks had exploded in Rhaenys' chest at the feeling of his thin lips. When he leaned away, he maintained his warm beam. "Precisely. That, and you'll have to learn how to properly use a sword this time around."

Rhaenys pressed her shapely backside against his chest. "Lucky for me…" She trailed off huskily. "I have the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms with me. Maybe he can teach me a thing or two…"

His eye narrowed dangerously at the explicit movement. "Careful now, Lady Targaryen. Otherwise, you won't be able to walk in the morning." He warned. His already hard cock had burned with life once again inside of her. She felt it swell and bulge against her inner walls.

She weighed her options. Go to sleep… or tease him again and have him carry her around in his thick, muscled arms…

Making up her mind, Rhaenys just gently rubbed her behind against his crotch. All the while, she smiled brightly, and as innocently as possible.

That was more than enough for her Bear. Suddenly, Rhaenys found herself on her knees once again, her eyesight being blocked partially as her head was pushed firmly into the pillows.

As he began pumping her again and again from behind, she gripped the wooden bedpost and clutched at the blankets.

She was smiling, completely satisfied with herself. And with him.