Winterfell

294 AC

Far in the distance, Rhaenys could see the towering stone grey walls.

Having grown up in the Red Keep and the Stone Drum, she had thought that the Starks must've lived in some kind of wooden longhouse. She was even skeptical of what she read of their holdings in history books.

Now, however, Rhaenys was seeing with her own eyes that Winterfell was far more impressive than any single castle she could ever hope to dream of.

Thick granite walls stretched out for what was probably half a mile or so of land in both directions. Not to mention, that was only the first layer. The second, much higher wall appeared just over the top of its outer counterpart.

Starag rode up at the spearhead of their party along with Oberyn, Arthur, Jon, and Garlan. Rhaenys didn't mind. She had her own mission to accomplish towards the middle of the caravan.

As such, trotting next to her on a rather large horse was Maege Mormont.

Her future good-aunt had been kind enough to allow Rhaenys to ride with her earlier that morning. It was best if they had managed to get along before she'd focused her efforts on Dacey.

After all, her relationship with these two women would be the deciding factor in whether or not her time in Bear Island would be a delightful and warming stay, or a living frozen hell.

And thankfully, it seemed that Maege herself had also realized this. While she talked away, Rhaenys simply listened and asked questions, which only prompted Maege to continue talking.

"I've got five girls- though you've already met Dacey. And then there's Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna."

Rhaenys raised a curious eyebrow. "Alysane? Was she named after Alysanne Targaryen?"

Maege gave her a brief, yet approving glance. "Of course. She was already up on her little toes a few weeks after she'd been born. Would always prance about Bear Keep with that little stride of hers. Fearless, that lass." She said proudly. "And my brother read stories about the Dragonriders to me when we were children. Alysanne was always my favorite."

She smiled at how warm the older woman's voice was. "And I trust she's rather adept when it comes to weaponry, as well?"

The She-Bear gave her a searching look. "We all are, deary. Even little Lyanna." She answered stolidly. Though she gave a small smile after a few moments. "She's quite deadly with a fork, that one." She said as she rubbed her side. As if recalling a rather painful memory.

In a way, Maege was telling Rhaenys that she'd just have to keep up. I'll really be needing those sword lessons, then.

More research on House Mormont had told her that while the Mormont men were out fishing, it was left to the women of Bear Island to defend their home from the Ironborn and Wildlings. As such, their culture was far less… Ladylike.

It was more often than not that she had seen Dacey thrashing around the men-at-arms during sparring matches or training. She was rather… brutal with that mace of hers.

Yet Rhaenys knew she was clearly not built the same way that Dacey was. Her arms were rather thin and lacked the same muscle tone and definition that the Mormont girl had. Not to mention, she was rather sluggish on her feet.

Where her cousins preferred their spears and whips, Rhaenys took to her books and her mind. When she had mentioned this to Starag, however, he simply waved it off.

"Don't worry about it too much. You've still got a lot of secretarial duties to attend to, after all." He said as he stroked her hair the night before. "If it matters that much to you, though, we'll have you swinging a longsword in no time at all."

Soon enough, they came upon Wintertown. The simplicity of the thatch roofs, along with the brick chimneys fanning with smoke had charmed her. As they rode by the various homes and shops, a small crowd had gathered along the edges of the wide street to watch the company of men-at-arms and armored carriages.

Winterfell had gotten much larger now that they were up close. Rhaenys and Maege had made their way slowly to the front of the company while the large iron gates had opened.

Rhaenys looked to the front. Starag and Jon had sat side by side on their respective horses.

He had told her of how he'd initially started out his journey with the boy. It was so very strange to imagine that they had only left Winterfell with three horses, and now they had returned with five carriages full of gold, and a full company of fifty men-at-arms.

They began moving again, and quickly, they were crossing the moat on the other side of the outer wall. Rhaenys estimated that while the outer walls were around eighty feet high, the inner walls were likely one hundred or so feet tall.

Not once did Rhaenys ever believe a magnificent place like this could ever exist on a map. After growing up on Dragonstone, in the monstrous and gothic citadel of the Stone Drum, she never considered there might be another place just as strangely beautiful to her.

Winterfell, in its superficial beauty, was more than a castle. It was the living and breathing heart of the North. A diamond in the rough.

She simply let her mind and eyes wander about as they made their way further down the stone bridge and beyond the mountainous granite walls.

Now, they had trotted into the courtyard. And waiting for all of them were the assembled household of the Starks of Winterfell.

Arthur had told her plenty good of all of them. They were much like her own family, or her mother's side at the least. There was only joy and laughter to be found at the breakfast table each and every morning, or so Arthur had said. She believed him.

Rhaenys then got a rather good look at the Starks. Her heart soared upon seeing her aunt Ash once again. Her face hadn't seemed to have aged a day since Rhaenys had last seen her, though there were some light streaks of silver in the mane of black curly hair and her purple eyes teemed with worry and anticipation.

Standing next to her aunt, Rhaenys supposed, was her… uncle? Eddard Stark stood proud and stolid in the dim afternoon sun. He was cold as ice. Almost like a statue with his lips pressed into a hard line, and his grey eyes narrowed.

In a line from oldest to youngest were their children, too. Rhaenys had also been told much about the Stark pups by Arthur.

"In a nutshell, they're the future. A bright lot, them. Even if Arya's a bit of a terror at times." He'd said with a warm smile.

The hard set line of Lord Stark's lips had soon quirked upward into a light grin upon seeing Jon and Starag as they got off their horses. Uncle Oberyn had soon followed behind them as introductions were being made.

"Best you go up before me, lass." Maege whispered to her. "They already know who I am."

Rhaenys blushed fiercely. She didn't want to interrupt, but she also didn't want to let Starag down when he called for her. That would be much worse.

Fighting the nerves that told her to stay put, she slowly descended from her saddle, patted Meleys on the neck, and walked up to the gathering of loved ones as a complete stranger.

"And then we went to King's Landing and Uncle Starag had this made for me!" Jon Stark said excitedly to his parents as he slung his bastard sword from his belt. He didn't seem to care that there was an entire garrison of servants and guards waiting behind his family.

Rhaenys probably wouldn't have cared either were she as excited as he was. It had been far too long since she'd been in a room with even half as many people who were in the courtyard right now.

Still, she managed to close the distance and make it to Starag's side as he spoke with Lord Stark. "It was a Shadowcat. No need to worry about it, really. I'll deal with it." He said to their worried glances towards his eye patch. Almost as if he'd known she was there, her Bear had made room for her.

"That aside… there's someone I'd like you two to meet…" He said proudly as his huge arm had come around her narrow shoulders. She stepped forward the rest of the way and stood in front of Lord and Lady Stark.

"This is Rhae Sand. She's to be my wife." Starag had said warmly. Rhaenys gave a nervous smile to both Lord Stark and Aunt Ashara as their eyes had turned to her.

Eddard's grey eyes had crinkled, and his lips had softened into a beam. "Starag spoke highly of you in his letter, my lady." He said before he kissed the back of her hand.

Rhaenys found her cheeks to be scorching hot with how much blood had flowed into them. He did? Her heart fluttered and soared. She briefly broke her gaze away to recover her wits.

She didn't even notice the conspiratory wink that Eddard had given to Starag after having said those words.

When Rhaenys had gathered herself after a few seconds, she beamed warmly at Lord Stark. "Thank you, my lord. I look forward to meeting the rest of your family."

And then she looked to her aunt. Ashara Dayne had simply stared at her in wonder and simple amazement, almost like she was looking at a ghost.

It wasn't likely to be a surprise that Ashara had known right away who she really was. Arthur had found her out in a matter of seconds, and Rhaenys had grown up calling both Dayne siblings her aunt and uncle.

Still, Aunt Ashara was fast to recover herself. She threw her arms around her shoulders and hugged Rhaenys fiercely. Nearly squeezing the life out of her with her surprisingly strong grip.

"Is it you, Rhaenys? Please tell me it's really you, and I'm not just being a madwoman. Please…" She pleaded softly into her ear.

Rhaenys had reciprocated the embrace just as warmly. "It's me, aunt." She said in a low whisper.

Her aunt's arms had somehow tightened even further, albeit briefly. Soon enough, they had thankfully released Rhaenys, allowing her to breathe again.

There were tears sliding down Aunt Ashara's cheeks. But they were happy tears. Not at all like the kind she'd seen on her mother's face during her final moments.

Aunt Ashara wiped furiously at her reddened cheeks and sniffled. She took Rhaenys' hands in hers and squeezed gently. "You've grown up so fast... El-" She seemed to have caught herself from revealing anything more to those listening in the courtyard. "Your mother would be proud of you, little one."

Rhaenys doubted that those around their little group of four could hear, much less make sense of the whole exchange.

Her Bear had coughed into his hand. "Well, we appear to be holding up the line, so to speak." He turned to Rhaenys. "Let's get on."

Mormont had never sweated so much before in his life.

He narrowly weaved his way out of the long lunge that Arthur had given him, but only just. His coordination was still too far off what it had been moons ago.

Again, Dayne had quickly swung his gleaming white blade in a high overhead strike. Even now, he wouldn't dare go soft on Mormont. Something which Starag absolutely loved him for.

Mormont deflected Dawn off course and stepped to the side to give himself breathing room. However, Arthur was relentless. He came back with another sweeping lunge, which the Bear Lord could barely block.

It had only been a full day since he arrived back in Winterfell. Gods… How long ago was it since I was last here? Seems like years, almost…

Yet on the morning of his first day back, he had woken to the familiar hard knock on his door just before the sun had risen.

Naturally, it had been Arthur Dayne waiting for him on the other side of the large oak door. Neither of them said a word to one another. He didn't even look at Starag's missing eye.

Mormont had only dressed in a simple white tunic and black trousers along with his leather riding boots. He knew he'd be warmed up later anyway.

But it was the hard-iron stare that Dayne had given him before he'd left his room. No excuses. That was all it had said to him.

In truth, Mormont hadn't intended to let himself go just because of a missing eye, yet he didn't fault Arthur for his obvious concern. There were likely many more dangerous battles that Starag Mormont would have to fight one day, and he needed to be ready at all times.

And now, as he blocked and countered Dayne's swift and efficient strikes, again and again, Mormont felt far less sluggish than he had been back in Dorne. It was an improvement, but he was far from recovered.

"Time." Arthur had said suddenly. He withdrew Dawn and sheathed the polished milk-white blade in a quick flash.

Mormont let out a hard breath and managed to do the same with Longclaw after crooning his head to the side. He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with his shirt, leaving a small damp patch on the white linen.

"That's seven laps for you." Arthur said sternly. "What happened to you, Starag?"

"I got careless." He replied. It would not do to blame either the Shadowcat or his missing eye. "And I paid the price for it."

Dayne nodded firmly. "Indeed you did. The man who had bested Jamie Lannister himself wouldn't have let that happen, now would he?"

Mormont grit his teeth in cool frustration. Arthur was trying to get him riled up to make sure the lesson would stick. And it was working perfectly. "No. He wouldn't."

Starag was not the kind of man to regret the things that he'd done or to wish that he'd done things differently. However, there were a few select moments in which he realized, that he could've done better.

As with the Shadowcat, he absolutely should've anticipated that encounter being a solid possibility. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed to stay out on the cliffs for so long.

And it would've been easy for him to blame it on Rhaenys, but Starag Mormont was not the kind of man to do such a thing. It was his choice. He let it happen. And he'd live with the consequences for the rest of his life.

Arthur continued with his hard glare. "So, what will you do to make up for it? Your enemies won't care if you're missing an eye. How will you be ready for them when the time comes?"

It was an excellent question. One that Mormont had already thought of many times since he'd left Dorne. Anyone who was the best at anything had simply failed at it more times than not. It would be the same with him and swordplay.

"I'll train every single day. Until I never get it wrong." Mormont answered stolidly. "I'll just have to train harder than everyone else, won't I?"

His friend and mentor nodded again. "Yes, you will. This isn't a game of cards that you can cheat at, Starag. When your life, and those you love are on the line, instinct will take over. You have to be ready."

Dayne continued. "There are men out in the world who are stark-raving mad, and they might even be just as good with the sword as you. Worse, they may be cleverer than you are, or they may have more resources or even armies to throw at you." He paused for a moment. "And if they threaten your family in any way, do you think they'll care about your missing eye?"

"No." Starag said.

Arthur smiled firmly. "Good." He stepped forward and clasped Starag on the shoulder. "There's no other way. You'll just have to try harder than everyone else. Until the day you die. Do you understand?"

Mormont nodded his head in deference. "I do."

That's just how it would have to be from now on. Dayne's point had more than enough credence to it.

There were so many men out in the Known World who wanted Starag Mormont dead. And there were quite a few among the bigger players in the Game who would've liked to have seen a rope noosed around his neck.

Not only had he made enemies out of men like Tywin Lannister, but he'd long been feuding with the Greyjoys as well. Ever since their cursed rebellion.

And Mormont would never forget the sweeping, countless rows of glowing crystal blue eyes that stared back at him through the snow in his dream… Those would forever be burned into his memory.

Arthur's words would not just apply to swordplay. It would almost certainly entail every other challenge that life intended to throw at him. Until the day I die.

"That's good. Very good." Arthur said. Then, a light grin spread across his face. "And if it helps, you are the best one-eyed swordsman I know."

Mormont shook his head with a reformed grin. "Thanks, I'll be sure to brag about it to the others…"

His friend let out a hardy chuckle at his quip and stepped back. "At least that wit of yours hasn't slipped. I'm sure Rhaenys finds it quite entertaining."

She did. There were times that their conversations had descended into quick, clever, and playful barbs that neither of them took personally. Then, of course, it was followed by sex.

That, however, was not on the table for discussion. Starag Mormont knew when to draw the line at his apparent barbarism, and knew when to be a sophisticated gentleman who was quite discrete about his encounters with the opposite sex.

And, of course, something else had been on his mind the other day that had finally caught up with him. This time, he had Dayne right where he wanted him.

"Yes, she does. Though now that we're talking about it…" Mormont trailed off for better effect. "What's going between you and Dacey? I don't ever recall having been witness to your meeting before."

His friend had nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course. You must be wondering about that..."

"Well." Dayne started again. "You know your cousin. She's a sweet girl. And... I do appreciate her as a woman..." He admitted. "However, she's practically your sister, and it's not my place to court her. So, I've kept my distance."

Mormont was unmoved, however. "Swear it to me."

Arthur stepped forward immediately. There was no humor in his expression. "I swear on my honor as a Knight, and on the life of my King, that I have neither slept with nor laid a hand on Dacey." He said resolutely.

Starag narrowed his eye firmly as he scanned the Dornishman's face. There was no hint of deception in those purple eyes. They were completely genuine. Something which Mormont was thankful for.

Arthur wouldn't lie to him. He was a rubbish liar when it came to cards, anyway. He wasn't that kind of man. Mormont relented somewhat in his thoughts. He supposed that it wouldn't have been so bad if Arthur and Dacey had been matched. That aside, if anyone was going to play matchmaker with Dacey, it would be him alone.

Still... It was doubtful that he'd be getting any potential matches from the other houses. Perhaps the Manderlys, and maybe even the Umbers. But that was about it. The rest of the northern lords absolutely despised him.

No, right now, he just needed to get those… thoughts… out of his mind. His faith in Arthur Dayne had been restored, but the burning hot rage in his chest needed to be let out somehow. He looked sternly at the Dornishman standing just a few feet away from him.

"Draw your fucking sword."

The large solar was filled with the stench of pipe smoke, giving the room the air of a regal lounge that would host only the most distinguished of gentlemen.

Of course, the men who sat opposite of one another were in fact two of the most recognized men in the North.

Starag let another puff of smoke out of his mouth as he watched Ned take a neat draft of the Braavosi Firebrand. There was also a pipe in the Lord of Winterfell's free hand.

When he put the glass down, Eddard Stark shook his head with a pained expression as he gulped down the honey-gold blend of oak and spices. "That's certainly strong." He noted. "Why is it that I seem to take after your bad habits?"

Mormont shrugged. "You're asking me. I just show up wherever there's a party going on." He raised his own glass to take a sip. "It's good stuff, though. Isn't it."

His question was more like a statement. Still, Ned nodded his head in agreement. "I can definitely see it being popular in the North. It'll certainly help when the Umbers come visiting."

Starag had chuckled at that. The Greatjon was a man who enjoyed his mead a little too much. He'd take to the stuff almost immediately.

"So," Ned had paused to take another drag from his pipe. "After Duskendale, you then went to King's Landing and had Tobho Mott himself make Jon a sword. The steel of which had originated from the armor of a man you killed during the tournament-this Blount fellow, right?"

Mormont nodded firmly. "Exactly."

Eddard continued. "And then, you and Jon met the Tyrells. The youngest of whom had elected to introduce my son to card games. Do I have everything right?"

"More or less." He answered. "Though I wouldn't worry about Jon becoming addicted to gambling or anything. He's a straight arrow, just like you."

In truth, Starag was absolutely sure that Jon would forever be attracted to anything involving cards. That aside, he was certain that the boy wouldn't cheat, or deliberately disadvantage himself just to play a round of poker.

"I see." Ned ran a hand down his face. "And what about the tourney at King's Landing? Heard there was some trouble, but no specifics."

Mormont told him of everything that had gone down in King's Landing. Though he had excluded any mentions of Ruby, Tobho Mott's secretary.

By the time he had finished speaking of Gerold Dayne's fate, Ned gave him another pained look. "I'm sure you had your reasons. Still…" He clicked his tongue. "Gruesome way to go."

"He had it coming..." Starag said solemnly. "But I see your point. It was not my finest moment."

Then he'd told his best friend of everything that had transpired in Highgarden. And more specifically, of his famed duel with Jamie Lannister.

And then he'd spoken of Dorne. Of the red dunes and wastes of the Dornish desert, and of the beautiful and ornate Water Gardens that he'd stayed in for so long.

"And that's where you found Rhaenys…" He gave a mirthful snort. "Should've known. But how did she get there? Who got her out during the Sack?"

Mormont smiled warmly. "It was Jamie." He paused as he watched his friend's puzzled expression. "Just after he'd killed Aerys, he went to the Maegor's Holdfast and saved Rhaenys from Amory Lorch. Damn shame he was too late to save Elia and Aegon, though."

Eddard nodded thoughtfully. "True… Though it's better that Rhaenys survived than all three of them being killed." He paused briefly. "But how did this betrothal come to pass? Don't tell me you gave up the bachelor's life just so we could have Dorne on our side?"

It was fair enough that Ned had cause for concern. Neither he nor Arthur had ever expected Mormont to settle down at some point soon. Or at all for that matter.

And neither of them wanted to inconvenience him. Starag was the independent party in their circle of trust. Not necessarily concerned with the Great Game, usually only himself for that matter.

Mormont shook his head reassuringly. "No, that happened on its own. She's a lovely girl, so…" He said as he spread his hands, though he couldn't find the right things to say.

There were so many words he could use to describe Rhaenys Targaryen. In short, he summed her up as an unexpected delight. And he'd leave it at that.

His friend understood what he was trying to express, and nodded with a knowing smile. "I see… And what do you plan to do with all that gold, exactly?"

Mormont sat back in his chair and let out another cloud of smoke from his mouth. "That's a good question. I thought I'd build a port. Maybe a distillery, too."

He was actually glad that Ned had reminded him of this particular subject. Starag had a favor to ask of his old friend. "Though now that we're on this topic…"

Ned let out a resigned sigh. He too blew out a puff of smoke from his mouth. "What is it?"

Starag simply grinned. "Sea Dragon Point."

Eddard Stark had leaned back in his chair and downed the rest of his Braavosi Firebrand. "You want it." He said matter-of-fact-like. "Why?"

It was rather obvious why Starag actually wanted to expand his slice of the North. That was largely the goal of any ambitious lord. To expand their holdings by any means possible. Mormont knew, however, he'd have to spin it in such a way that Ned- and the North by extension- would benefit from the deal as well.

Because Ned would certainly need a good excuse when the word got out that House Mormont now ruled over Sea Dragon Point as well.

"You know how much gold I've got now, Ned… If you give me Sea Dragon Point, I'll make sure the Ironborn won't have enough time to pray to their Drowned God before I blow their ships to smithereens."

He continued his pitch. "You'll instantly double the North's naval strength. Not to mention we'd be bringing in more trade and gold with Lannisport and Oldtown, which means you'd be able to help the Night's Watch rebuild all those forts of theirs, or…"

Ned refilled his glass and nodded along for him to go on. Mormont could see the gears turning behind his grey eyes. I'm on the right track with the Night's Watch… What kind of project was he-

Immediately, images of various maps of the North flooded his mind. They focused on The Gift. Queenscrown. Of course… He wants to build a settlement there…

A town or even a city residing just south of the Wall would be a bastion, a northern jewel. Not to mention it would be a great aid to the Night's Watch.

"Or even begin building a settlement in The Gift," Mormont said nonchalantly as he finished. He didn't react when Ned's eyebrows had widened partially.

Where before his friend seemed interested, now he was sitting forward in his seat and was rapt with attention. "How long would it take you to get a settlement up and running at Sea Dragon Point?" He asked.

Mormont stopped himself from smirking. He'd made the sale. "A few moons. Three at most."

With a solid company of good, hardy men, Mormont could do anything. Building a small town was peas.

"And what could you do if I gave you a year?" Ned's thin lips had curled upward slightly. Just a little bit.

A year? The inevitable wave of ideas and possibilities had flooded his imagination upon hearing the question. It was doubtless that Ned saw all the benefits in his plan.

However, the Lord of Winterfell would obviously still need some kind of shield to fend off the various complaints he'd be receiving. Right now they were just planning damage control.

"Why does he get it and I don't?" Would essentially be the main question that Mormont's fellow bannermen would be asking. Almost like they were all children fighting over a toy.

And the worst part was that Starag knew they'd absolutely waste their chance if they had the same idea.

In a year's time, Mormont could have a fully functional and self-sustaining port town- or even a small city built along the coast with proper defenses to repel the Ironborn. Not to mention a fleet of ships that could trade with Barrowtown, Flint's Fingers, Seagard, Lannisport, and Oldtown. Perhaps even more…

Mormont had told his friend just as much and was pleased to see Ned smile and nod in agreement. "If you can have all of that built in just one year, your family can have Sea Dragon Point."

Starag grinned. But he wasn't done quite yet. One last reach, one more ambition that needed to be sated. "If I can get that done in one year AND bring you more than 40,000 gold dragons from my projects, then I want The Stony Shore as well."

Eddard seemed to replay that line in his head a few times before he finally opened his mouth. "Done." He said and held out his hand. Mormont shook it heartily. And that was that.

Soon enough, they were both back to smoking their pipes, drinking copious amounts of booze, and laughing together as they recounted stories from their youth.

For one pleasant evening, it seemed as if they had all the time in the world.