Chapter 40: The Heir
In the South…
Oldtown...
Leyton Hightower POV
From the Hightower, Leyton could see the arrival of the Redwyn fleet in the harbour, surely with the troops that will march towards Highgarden, something that he has yet to decide. But what was certain was that it will not be him who will march towards the capital with the troops of Oldtown.
After some time, while Leyton was in the great Hall, he saw his second son and captain of his guard, Garth, enter, followed by Ser Desmond Redwyn, the husband of his third daughter.
Apparently, the Master of Ships did not have the stomach to give the command of the troops to one of his twin sons.
"Welcome, Ser Desmond. To what do I owe your visit?" Asked Leyton, signalling the servants to bring bread and salt as for tradition, and then some Arbor wine.
"Thank you, Lord Hightower, but I won't stay long," he said, taking bread and salt, and then the Arbor wine. "The capital is under attack, and Lord Redwyn has entrusted me with his troops to break the siege, while the fleet reconquers the Shield Islands."
Leyton, after taking a sip from his goblet, asked, "And you want to break the siege with 3,000 men, Ser?"
"Actually, I was hoping you'd join me," Desmond said. "Together we can gather a force enough to break the siege."
"Lannister has an army of nearly 50,000 besieging the city. While another 30,000 men are no doubt blocking our path towards it."
"We can win this, Lord Hightower. Together, we can break the siege," placing the goblet on the table.
As Leyton approached one of the windows, mainly the one facing Highgarden, he started to think. If he does not intervene, the Tyrells will be destroyed, opening the way for power to him, but his name will be stained. Too lazy to come to the aid of his daughter, who is queen of the Kingdom.
"Lord Hightower?" he heard Desmond call him. "Time is against us. Your daughter is in danger. So are your grandchildren."
"It takes time to gather the necessary strength to break the siege," said Leyton, even though the truth was that his troops had already been ready to march under Bealor's command for several days.
"We both know the men are ready, Lord Hightower," said Desmond, approaching him, and looking towards Highgarden as well. "If we win this war, your daughter Lynesse will marry Willas Tyrell, and thus become the future Queen of the Reach."
"Dowager Queen Ollena will not be happy," said Hightower. That old crone and her scheming of power to forge an alliance with the Dornish.
"She will," Desmond said.
"So be it. 20,000 men will leave for Highgarden at my son, Baelor, command," said Leyton. And by the Seven Gods, when this war is over, he'll depose that oaf and fool of a Mace Tyrell, who's been subjugated by his witch mother for so long, that this Kingdom is on the verge of destruction.
"Good. Then we'll leave in two hours from now," said Desmond, smiling, and leaving the great hall, no doubt heading for his army.
Two weeks later...
Jaime Lannister POV
He asked for a meeting with the Tyrells, to draw all the attention on them and give his allies inside the city, to signal the position of the Wildfire, before he attacks the city.
In addition to that he also received news that Lord Hightower is marching towards Highgarden with a large army at his command, and that troops from House Redwyn have also joined them, while the fleet was sailing towards the bay.
And that is why Jaime informed Lord Brax, who immediately marched with half his forces to where the enemy should pass and prepare a trap and he also sent a messenger to Lord Tarly. Now all that remained was to wait for the outcome of that battle, and above all, to wait for the men inside the city to unleash the Seven Hells.
So now Jaime was heading towards the main gates of Highgarden, on horseback and with some men as escort. Under the white flag, hoping, of course, that the enemy would respect this symbol of truce.
As the gates were opening, Jaime saw a man in armour and riding out of the city, followed by more men. Several of them were undoubtedly members of the Kingsguard.
Once they stopped a distance away from him, Jaime said to one of the men, brown hair and a small beard, "I suppose you are Prince Willas Tyrell."
"Yes. Supposedly well. Are you here to surrender?" Tyrell asked.
"No. But I am here to offer you a chance to surrender. We both know you don't have the men or the resources to resist my siege weapons any longer," said Jaime, smirking.
"We have the resources to withstand a siege for five years, and men ready to defend these walls when you decide to attack us. But tell me, Lannister, do you have five years?" Willas Tyrell asked with such confidence. 'Poor fool,' thought Jaime.
"If you are not here to surrender, then why did you agree to meet me?" Jaime asked.
"Sieges are boring, Lannister. And I was curious to know how you looked. Stories run fast in Westeros regarding your great skills with the sword and in command," said Willas Tyrell, all serious.
"Your sister is our prisoner, you know?" Jaime said chuckling, changing the subject of the conversation.
"You're bluffing. She is-"
"On her way to Castely Rock. In the care of my men," Jaime interrupted him.
"We're done," said Willas Tyrell clearly angry at this revelation, and wanting to turn his horse back toward the city.
"Once my horse turned around, we would show no mercy, Tyrell," said Jaime, drawing his attention. "And you and your family will be parading through the roads of Westeros, from here to Castely Rock, in chains."
" I have a proposal for you," one of the men who accompanied him said. He was very young, charming, with brown and curly hair, and big and rather bright eyes but the same colour. He must be one of the other brothers, who seems to be a member of the Kingsguard.
"You must be Garlan," said Jaime, trying his luck with the name.
"No. I am Loras Tyrell," Tyrell responded with such arrogance. Yes Loras. Jaimie heard some stories regarding a certain Loras from the Reach. Good with sword they said.
"Let's hear your proposal," said Jaime intrigued. Not that he intends to honor it, of course.
"A single combat between the champion of Highgarden and yours to settle this matter. And if we win, you and your army retreat," said the young man, still with the same arrogance.
"And if you lose?" asked Jaime smirking. No one in his father's kingdom can defeat him, and for sure not this green-boy that still smell of his mother milk.
"We surrender, and we bend the knee to House Lannister and to your king," said the young man.
"I accept," said Jaime grinning. At least this will give him the chance to humiliate this young rose even more with such a sharp tongue that he loves swords so much.
"Highgarden refuses the challenge," replied Willas Tyrell. "We will never surrender." Apparently, he was the only one with a good brain in the Tyrell House. or Half a brain. Too bad that he will have to kill him.
"The challenge was accepted in the eyes of the Seven Gods. If you refuse, shame will fall on your House, on his name, and on your kingdom."
"Don't worry, brother. I'll kill this piece of shit," said Loras Tyrell, with such arrogance and confidence, getting off his horse, putting his helmet on his head and taking the shield in his hand, a sledgehammer in the hand, stepping forward.
Jaime grinned, coming down from the horse, putting his helmet on, taking his sword and his magnificent shield with the lion carved on it, and stepping forward too.
"This is going to be so funny," thought Jaime.
They circled for a moment studying the enemies move, and so Jaime saw the boy attacking him, rotating the chain-mace.
But he wasn't fast enough, and Jaime managed to dodge his attacks. The brat was so predictable in his attacks, despite claiming to be the best of the Reach. All Jaime had to do was tire him out before he killed him.
He kept on attacking him, with side slits from above, and Jaime dodged them, or parried them with his shield, but suddenly he felt a blow on his helmet that made his head resonate, and deconcentrated him for a moment, then the boy hit him on the leg and made him fall to the ground.
Before he could parry or dodge, an attack came from above, hitting him on the chest, causing him to release a whimper of pain.
"Now I'm gonna kill you, Lannister!" said the young man, through the helmet.
Despite his resonating head, his ribs and his chest hurting, Jaime managed to recover, and with his sword hit him on the greave metal, making him back away for a moment, and giving Jaime a chance to get up.
Removing his helmet quickly, Jaime saw that Tyrell tried to attack him again, and Jaime managed to dodge him in time, and then hit him with the shield at the throat, which despite being protected, still made him back away.
But suddenly the walls of the city burst out, and Jaime was struck by a mighty gust of dust, and even stones, making him fall a few steps backwards, hitting the head and losing consciousness.
Arianne Martell POV
Arianne was in her room watching as her son was sleeping so peacefully. The dawn was about to come but she couldn't sleep. Not after the nightmare she had.
She still shudders at the scenes that she had dreamed. Sunspear in flame; thousands of men inside the city, sacking it and slaughtering the people inside; and then from the top of Sunspear a big man with the shapes of a Stallion holding her son by the heel before thouing him down.
And now she was, here, sitting next to her son's crib, fearing to lose him, and in the meantime rocking it a bit knowing perfectly well that he loved that.
Morgan Nymeros Martell, born two weeks ago, under such a shining moon like never seen before. She knew it was the father's right to give the child a name, but since he's not here, it's up to her.
Looking at him, Arianne could see the resemblances with his father. From the brown eyes, to the jaws and the lips. However, the hairs were hers. Dark but curly.
Suddenly, while she was watching Morgan, Arianne heard a bird's noise, and looking towards the balcony of her room, she saw there was a hawk. And he was quite familiar.
As she approached him, Arianne finally recognized the bird. It was Garth, the hawk who was always with Willas.
Once she was in front of him, Arianne saw that he had something tied on his claw, but not having a leather glove for his claws she could not take him. So, caressing Garth, she took the scroll that he had attached to his claw, and opening it, Arianne started to read.
My dear Nymeria,
Or should I say my dear Arianne, or maybe it would be best to say my love?
Honestly, I don't even know how to call the woman who lied to me for a long time, nor do I know if what you told me were true, but nevertheless I'll still call you 'my love'. Because in that short time I stayed in that cave, it was the best moment of my life.
Arianne stopped for a moment to process what she had read, not knowing how to feel, even though her heart was beating fast, unexplainably.
The Lannisters are at the gates and soon Highgarden will be under siege. We have just over 6,000 men defending the city and we are waiting for reinforcements to arrive. I won't lie to you that if Hightower sides with us, I will surely have to marry his daughter, Lynesse, but I want to assure you that our marriage will not be annulled.
You will always remain my first wife, and who knows that maybe one day, in times of peace, we will meet again at the borders of our kingdoms or again in that cave. Or perhaps in the next life.
I will keep you forever in my heart.
Your Willas.
After having finished the letter, Arianne felt tears coming down from her eyes, cleaning them immediately, and after placing the letter on the table, she returned back to her son's crib. At that moment she heard a knock on the door. "Yes."
And she saw a servant enter, who bowing, said, "I beg your pardon, Princess Arianne. But your Uncle Oberyn has returned and asked to meet him in the Great Hall."
"Tell him to come here," she said, never taking her eyes away from her son, who was now clutching her finger with his little hands, though he had his eyes closed, and sleeping.
After a while Arianne saw her Uncle Oberyn walk through the door with a gloomy expression.
"I suppose your visit to the lords was unwelcome," said Arianne, turning her gaze back to Morgan.
"You guess right," Oberyn said, approaching the table and pouring wine into one of the empty goblets on it. "Some of them didn't like my presence, especially those who have daughters of husband's age, but I'm not happy with what I saw or what they proposed either. Especially the House of Yronwood."
"What do they want?"
"In short"? A marriage between you and Cletus, sending your son away from Sunspear, and your complete faithfulness during the marriage," he said, taking a sip from his goblet, and leaning against the table. "But that's not all. One of the Sand Snakes has informed me that Quentyn has allied himself with King Tywin Lannister and Khal Drogo, and that he will soon sail from Volantis."
"Khal Drogo?" she asked, standing up and looking at her uncle. That was the name of the man her father wanted to marry her.
"Yes. The strongest and most ferocious of the Khal Dothraki who has defeated all his rivals, and now he has at least 100,000 men at his command," said Oberyn, swirling his wine around in his cope, before taking a sip.
"100,000?" she asked. Dorne could only raise 30,000, and she didn't even know if they were all completely loyal to her.
"Yes and..."
"We will kill them all with our spearmen," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, even though the truth was that she was not sure about it.
"Yes. If the Khal is dumb enough to charge against our spears," said Oberyn, chuckling, and then adding, in an almost serious tone, "But he is not. And the Dothraki are used to our weather."
"The land is to our advantage and..."
"Not anymore, if it is Quentyn who advises them on the conquest," Oberyn said, cutting her off.
Looking toward the balcony, from which Dorne could be seen, Arianne said, "Then we will lead them into the open field, where they will have no other choice but to charge against our spears."
"Only a fool would face the Dotrakhi in the open field. They are excellent riders, and impressive archers."
"Then we're doomed," she said, releasing a sigh of defeat, spreading her arms, and returning to Morgan's crib, watching him sleep so peacefully.
"Not necessarily," he said, shaking his head and taking another sip of wine. "There is only one man, or should I say one boy, in Westeros who defeated them in the open field, and that his name is dreadful among the Dotrakhi. "
"Yes, Jon Stark. With his army of Unsullied," she said, smirking. That was a man she would have wanted by her side. Arianne has heard all the stories about him and his trips to Essos. And she was impressed. Especially of what he did in Astapor.
"Yes, and that's why I suggest you think better of the offer from Yronwood. Maybe you should accept it."
"So you're telling me I should give up my firstborn son and accept conditions that are disadvantageous to me?"
"For Dorne's future? Yes. We don't have the strength to fight both King Tywin and the Dotrakhi. Not with a divided Dorne."
"No! Never. I will never bend to proposals..."
"Then we will face the doom. His father's reign will soon fall, and we will be next. Enjoy your little brat while you still can. In the moment the city falls, the enemy will throw him from the walls, and you will become their slave," said Oberyn, almost angry, finishing the wine in the goblet and leaving the room.
As she approached the cradle she said, resting her hand on her son's little body, "I will never disown you, my sweet little boy. And when the time comes, you will reclaim your father's kingdom and rule over both kingdoms."
In the north...
Catleyn Tully POV
As she was preparing to return to Winterfell, Catleyn heard the news of Lord Bolton's death, and was immediately on her way to that hideous, dark palace, that was the Dreadfort.
"Halt! Who are you?" asked one of the guards at the gate.
"I am Queen Catleyn Stark, and I am here to speak with your Lord," she answered.
The guard nodded, and pounding the spear on the ground, signalling the others to open the gates, and so she entered.
The courtyard was almost full of men training and the forge making weapons, and when she reached the main keep, a soldier came to hold her horse, as she descended. She really shouldn't be alone her. But taking guards would mean that her plan would fail.
Then she saw a tall and dour man, with the steel greaves he wore on his long legs, and a mail shirt on his torso, holding a spear in his hand. He was Captain of the guards, if she wasn't mistaken.
"Welcome Lady Catleyn, was Lord Bolton expecting you?" he asked, coming down the stairs of the palace.
"Queen Catleyn," she corrected him a bit angry. "And no. Lord Bolton was not expecting me. But I'm here to discuss with the new Lord Bolton."
The man nodded, waving to her to follow him.
As she entered the great hall of the Dreadfort, Catleyn saw some men around a table, and a younger one, leaning on it.
"Lady Tully. To what do I owe your visit?" he asked, still looking towards the map, while the men made room.
"I had come to discuss our alliance with your father, Lord Roose Bolton," said Catleyn, trying to hide my ignorance of the news, knowing full well that Roose Bolton was dead.
"I believe you have come all this way in vain, because my beloved father is dead," said the young man as he turned to her, his hands crossed over his chest. "He was killed by his enemies."
"My condolences for your loss, sir. So I suppose there's a new Lord Bolton now," she said.
"Yes. And you're looking at him," said the young man. "Ramsey of House Bolton, true borne son of Roose Bolton. Rightful Lord of the Dreadfort."
This was Ramsey Snow. A bastard thought Catleyn. A mistake of nature unworthy of such a title. But she had to use her cards wisely.
"Leave us," Bolton said, and the men left the room, but not before he whispered something to one of them.
Now that they were alone, taking a breath, Catleyn said, "Before he died, your father, Lord Bolton, promised his support to overthrow Jon Stark and his Targaryen whore, in exchange for a union between my daughter Sansa and you."
"Yes. I'm aware of that fact. But since your last visit to Dreadfort, so many things have changed, and so many truths have been discovered," Bolton said, pouring himself some wine.
"I don't think the results of that will change our pact and..."
"Pact?" said Ramsey Bolton chuckling, interrupting her, and sipping from his chalice. Apparently, this bastard didn't learn the good manners. Never interrupt a queen when she's talking, and above all, offer the guests a drink too, not that she'd accept it. But she shouldn't be surprised about that. He was a bastard after all. A shame.
"Yes. The agreement to help me put my son..."
"Your son is dead," said Bolton chuckling, taking another sip from his goblet.
Catleyn on the other hand, hearing those words coming out of the bastard's mouth, was as if the whole world had collapsed on her. As if her breath was missing and she appealed to all her strength to avoid bursting into tears in front of the bastard.
"How?" she asked, having no strength to ask for anything else, even though inside her she was screaming.
"Killed by Daenerys Targaryen and the king's allies. It was indeed a gruesome scene," Bolton said, smirking and sipping. "His head was presented before the Lords, and then displayed on the walls of Winterfell, along with his wolf."
Hearing that, her heart was filled with rage and was demanding vengeance. She will destroy all who are loyal to that whore and that bastard of a Dornish whore. She will kill everyone that the Targaryen whore love, and she swear it by the Seven Gods.
"Doesn't matter. I believe that our pact remains. We'll put my daughter on the Winter Throne and you by her side," said Catleyn, trying to sound indifferent to the hateful news about her son's fate.
"Lady Tully, you never cease to impress me. Even with the news of your son death you are still focused on your plan. I love that in a woman," Bolton said, laughing, and after taking another sip, he added. "But, regarding your daughter I changed my mind."
Finishing the chalice of wine, and then purring some more he continued, "You see. Recent discoveries have led me to reconsider this situation and especially what would give me access to power."
"What do you mean? Speak clearly!" asked angrily.
"You see. A little bird has whispered to me that the King in North, Jon Stark, has disinherited your children, and that the rightful heir to the throne in the North is his wife Daenerys Targaryen."
" Lies. He has no authority to do so."
"And your beloved daughter is a bastard, the result of the incest between you and your brother," he said, and Catleyn froze with wide eyes.
Bolton started laughing, in an evil way, and that made her very angry. And in her rage, she made a step that she shouldn't have done. Or said.
"How dare you bastard, son of a peasant whore, call my daughter that. She's a daughter of Kings, from the two greatest Houses that ever existed in this world and..."
"And she's a slut," he said grinning. And in that moment, she slapped him right in the face.
"When I will take the control of the North, I'll cut your bastard tongue out for spitting lies about my daughter," she said furiously, and started walking away.
But stopping when she heard, " Rumour has it that you did not behave properly with Daenerys Targaryen in Winterfell."
"What do you care of how I behaved with that whore?" she said turning to Bolton.
"Because that whore as you call her is my other half, my future queen, and I don't take lightly when my things are treated badly," Bolton replied, crossing his arms.
Catleyn started to laugh out loud as she approached Bolton. So even this motherless bastard has a weakness. Good, this will give her a huge advantage against him.
"If you don't pledge your army to take the throne for my daughter, when the war is over, I'll have your dragon whore raped by every man in my father's army. Before I let her die, she will suffer like no one before on this world," she said, smirking as she approached the young man, only to stop a few inches from him. As she looked into his eyes, Catleyn could see in his eyes the evilness, the cruelty, and she was sure that without this knowledge and treat, she would have no way of getting him on her side.
But what surprised her was that Bolton burst out laughing as he fills again the goblet of wine and drank it.
"Oh, Lady Tully. Do you really think your threats are scratching me?" he said, looking towards her. "And you are undoubtedly the queen of who..." at that moment Catleyn tried to slap him again, but this time he dodged it, making her miss the cheek, and instead it was Bolton who slapped her with the back of his hand, making her fall over the table.
Grabbing her by the hair, Bolton whispered, "You threaten to have my other half raped by your army. Well, now you're gonna get raped by my men. And you're gonna enjoy like slut you are. You will be my favourite toy for the future."
But she's not going to be raped by some bastard. So, pulling out the small knife she usually had, Catleyn stabbed Bolton in the side, and then grabbing the jug of wine that was on the table, she hit Bolton on the head and knocking him down. Then she ran towards the door, but the exit was blocked by some men, who brought her back to the hall.
The dread took control of her body knowing what was about to happen.
Groaning, Bolton started to get up from the floor, holding his head and then starting to laugh.
"I like a fighting' bitch," he said, keep laughing, "it makes the moment more exciting."
Waving to his men, Bolton said, "Bring her to the table."
"NO!" cried Catleyn, breathing fast, and trying to resist them, unsuccessfully, as they dragged her toward the table.
They bended her over the table as two were holding her down, and then she felt Bolton reap her dress a part. She was crying with all her force, hopping that maybe some good man would enter and help her, but she knows that it was in vain.
Grabbing her by the hair, Bolton whispered, "I've never been with a high-born whore. But now you're gonna be the bastard boys' bitch."
"No! No!" cried Catleyn, fighting in vain as her dress was torn apart, and in that very moment when her head was pressed against the table, she felt a pain and definitely Bolton's cock entering her with a powerful thrust. She closed her eyes, shooting everyone outsider her mind.
They may break her body, but they will never break her spirit. She is daughter of Kings. She will survive this.
Hardhome...
Different POV
After killing some undead with Dawn, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they won some precious time for the retreat, but at that moment he saw Jon fall to his knees and then lay on the ground with three arrows in his chest.
"No!" shouted Arthur, running towards his nephew, and shouting towards the others, "The king has fallen!"
Once there, Arthur immediately dropped to his knees, and saw that the arrows stuck in Jon's chest were made of ice, and that they were smoking. But not grey smoke, instead it was dark, almost black. Sorcery.
Looking towards the mountain he saw a great beast, resembling a wolf, on top of it and there was someone on its back. Immediately, a thousand of undead threw themselves down from the mountain, just like before, only to rise up, and charge towards them, screaming.
But in that very moment, the remaining Wildings ran to their rescue, and fallowed by the giant wielding an burning wooden rod in his hand, setting fire to his enemies.
"Jon!" said Viserys, bending down and looking at him for a moment, and then turning to Arthur and adding, "We have to go to the boats, and we have to do it quickly."
But when they were about to get up, and lift Jon from the ground, Arthur saw the giant lower himself, and take Jon in his arms, then running away towards the boats.
Benjen, who was still on the ground because of his injuries, saw the giant running towards the boats with his nephew in his arms, and afterwards a part of the palisade collapsing. At that moment the woman he had saved before came to his rescue.
"Come, kneeler. This is not the day you will die," she said, wrapping his arm around her neck, and helping him to get up.
With great effort, and realising a groan, Benjen got up, and started moving toward the boats as fast as he could. Or at least as much as his wounds and the woman who was helping him would allow.
Once on the boats with the survivors, who were very few, Arthur saw the giant put Jon on it, then heading through the water towards the ships.
While their boat was rowing, Arthur turned his attention towards the carnage on the shore, and he saw a man walking on the pier. He was tall, with ice skin and blue eyes. A bald head, with spikes on it that resemble to have a crown on it. He was wearing a dark Iron armour, that looked ancient. And he was quiet terrifying.
Then, once on the edge of the pier, glancing back, he raised his arms, and all those who were lying dead on the shore, rose up with blue eyes, and gazing towards them.
"Fuck!" Arthur heard Viserys exclaim. "Row faster, for fuck's sake!"
And he felt the boat pick up speed, but he never broke his stare with the frozen bastard. He was staring at the Night King with so much hate, and if it was, he the one who killed Jon, Arthur will not have peace until the frozen bastard is destroyed, and his nephew avenged.
(OLD TONGUE)
When she reached her destination, she saw him on the piers of the camp, looking towards the fleet that was sailing away, with those who are still alive on board, and especially Jon Stark, even though she could feel his life fading away.
As she came down from the direwolf, she saw the one who the living call the Night King slowly approaching her, and she grinned evilly, she said, "At last we meet again, Brandon."
But he didn't answer as he looked at her with the cold eyes of her Lord, and she didn't know if he still recognized her or if he still remembered her name.
When the Bloody Blade didn't answer, she continued, "I see that after 8,000 years, the icy winter has finally frozen your tongue. Our master will be gla-" But she couldn't finish, because the Bloody Blade grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up without saying anything.
But nothing happened to her because she didn't need to breathe, and if she wanted, she could try and fight back. But the Bloody Blade released her when he saw what was on the direwolf, and at that moment she said getting up, "We have to take him to the Great Other, in the lands of Always Winter."
The Night King grabbed the young Stark by the neck, but when he tried to lift him from the direwolf, the dead beast knocked him down, growling with his blue eyes, and his rotten face.
She grinned at the scene, crossing her arms. One thing was sure. On this side of the Wall, the barrier was secure. Her lord's power was stronger than ever, and his most fearsome and coldest commander, failed in his task. To capture Jon Stark. But so did she.
And with that, the hope of freedom was also over. All that remains is to journey to the Lands of Always Winter, and free her master.
When she turned her attention back to the beast, she saw it on the ground with the boy next to it and Brandon the Bloody Blade, ready to tear it a part.
"Easy," she said, stopping his arm. "I need the wolf to carry the boy to our lord, while you get ready this war for him coming."
The Night King left the beast, and she, after giving him a hated kiss on his lips, climbed on the dead beast, heading towards the Lands of Always Winter.
Now that the whole fleet was heading towards White Harbour, except for one ship with the Lord Commander on board, which was heading towards East Watch, Jon was placed into a smaller one, which was faster, in order to try and reach White Harbour as soon as possible, without losing hope, even though Arthur know he was gone.
But in the meantime, Arthur tried to pull out the arrows, without success. It was as if they had taken root. And what was worse, it seemed as if they kept getting deeper and deeper into his chest, making his skin becoming cold and icy.
There was no master of the Seven Kingdoms or healer in Essos, who could heal him from this, or worse, resurrect him. With this, he failed to keep his promise to one of the most important persons in his life. His sister Ashara.
Leaving the cabin in which Jon was lying, with a heavy heart and full of pain, Arthur made his way towards another one, that was larger in space but that contained only chairs and tables for men where to eat. Upon entering he saw the chief Wilding woman that was in the main hut, and that had spoken with Jon, helping Benjen to wrap the wounds he had on him. And there were many of them he could see.
"Jon?" asked, Benjen, trying to rise up with difficulty, and placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him, Arthur shook his head. Then he filled himself a cup of wine and drinking it in one breath, feeling his dry and cold throat, being damp.
"We failed," said Viserys in a defeated tone, and Arthur sighed. "We swore to protect the King from all dangers, but we failed."
Arthur filled another cup of wine and gave it to young Targaryen. This was his first year of service in the Wolfsguard, and it was normal to feel this way now that the king was dead, even though they were rebels when they followed the king to Hardhome.
"We should get some rest. Recover our strength, and get ready to give the news to Winterfell," said Arthur, taking another sip from his cup, and sitting there in silence, gazing at the floor.
"So the young Southern King, was your nephew?" the woman asked, helping him wrap his wounds, breaking the silence after what Arthur said.
Benjen nodded, taking a sip of wine so that he would ease the pain, only to say, "He was my brother's son."
He released a groan of pain as the woman tightened the straps around his torso, and chuckling she said, "I thought you Starks were tough men?"
"We are," he chuckled, "sometimes." And taking another sip of wine, he asked, "But we also know how to be soft." receiving a pleasant laughs from her. "What's your name?"
"Karsi," she said, pouring wine into a cup and then drinking it. "From the Frozen Shore."
"A pleasure to meet you," said Benjen, trying to give her a kiss on the knuckles, but she pulled it away, saying, "I'm not one of your Southern ladies. These things don't work on me."
But before he could add anything, Benjen saw the big red bearded man enter, heading straight for the table with the wine, putting some in.
"What kind of shit is this?" he said, making an unpleasant face.
"It' s wine from the Night's Watch," said Viserys.
"It' s shit. When this war is over, I'll give you some real Northern drink," said the red man, with his strong voice, then asked, "The boy?"
"Dead," said Benjen, almost in a low tone.
"Fuck!" exclaimed Tormund, drinking another cup of wine. "Hope your souther Queen will still keep his promise."
"She will," said Viserys, getting up.
"Where's Mance, Tormund?" Arthur asked, getting up.
"Dead. Along with Loboda, and many others. But we caught two of those fucking bastards, for your Southern cunts."
"Good. Then let's rest. Especially you Benjen," said Arthur, leaving him, surely heading to Jon's cabin.
"How long till your city?" asked Karsi.
"I think two weeks till White harbour, and a moon till Winterfell. Maybe less," said Benjen, getting up, and leaving them too. He really needs to lay down, despite wanting to know more of the Woman.
Winterfell...
Daenerys Targaryen POV
The pain was unbearable and although it hadn't been long since she felt the first pain when she woke up, it only increased.
"I want, Jon!" she said, screaming in pain, and crying. "Jon must be here. My Jon. I want my Jon." Crying endlessly, even though her body was begging her to push.
"Dany, you have to push," said her mother who was beside her as she kept crying and taking deep breaths.
Daenerys grabbed onto the sheets and pushed with all her might. The old Maester encouraged her until after three pushes she heard the cries of a baby.
"You have a son, Dany," her mother said with tears in her eyes, and Daenerys smiled, with closed eyes, and starting to cry. They were tears of joy, but also of sore, because her Jon wasn't here to see his son come to this world. She could feel the tiredness of the situation, of the difficulty with which her give birth especially because it's a moon sooner.
But Stretching her arms towards her mother, Daenerys said, "Give him to me, mother. I want to see my son."
However, in that same moment, she felt another sharp pain, and the need to push again, because her belly still moved.
"There is another baby, your grace. Just as we had supposed," The Maester said. "I can see the head, your grace."
"You need to push a few more times, Dany, and it will be over," said her mother, who in the meantime give her son to a midwife.
"A beautiful girl," said the master, giving her daughter to the King's mother.
"Rest a bit now, Dany," said her mother, caressing her, as Daenerys was breathing fast, with closed eyes, exhausted.
But she didn't want to rest now. She wanted to see her children, but before she could ask to see them, the King's Mother said, "We need to clean them, Dany. And you need a bath too. After that, you will feed and see your children."
Dany, nodded, still breathing fast. This was one of the hardest things she's ever experienced.
After having bathed, and once the bedsheets were changed, Daenerys returned to the bed, helped by Missandei, who had a smile on her face, even though she had not yet said anything about it.
Once there, her mother and Jon's mother, brought her, her children, who now were clean. She was so excited to see them, but also very scared, not knowing how she would feel when her children will suck at her breast.
First, it was the turn of her son, who was in her mother's arms and after she placed him in her arms, Daenerys stared him for a few moments. From the look, Dany could tell that he was a Targaryen. Silver-blonde hair, but curly like his father's. His eyes on the other hand, because they were still closed, Daenerys could not tell whose they were.
Her son started to suck at her breast with force, causing her to release a slight groan of pain since it hurt for a moment, but then the pain started to fade, and as he sucked, and clutched at her breast, he opened his little eyes, gazing at her. And she could finally see them. He had his father's eyes, grey and warm.
"Hello, my beautiful son," Daenerys said, giggling as she was watching her beautiful little pup, and leaning down, she gives him a kiss on the forehead as he kept sucking.
"How are you going to name him?" Daenerys heard her mother ask her.
"Aeinon," she said, never looking away from her son, who it seems have bewitched her. "Aeinon Stark."
"Aeinon has Targaryen origins. Do you think it's wise to name him like that?"
"Yes," Daenerys said, firmly. It was her son. She has birthed him; she is feeding him, and she will name him.
Once he was completely filled, Daenerys gave Aeinon to her mother, already missing his little body in her arms, and the contact, but now it was time for her daughter.
And smiling, Daenerys welcomed the little one, from the arms of Ashara. Her precious little jewel. And she was perfect, as Daenerys gazed at her daughter, so beautiful and shinning, with her dark hair, with some silver lines on it.
Unlike her twin who had already a brooding face like his father's, she had a joyful expression, always smiling, which therefore were making her beautiful violet eyes shining, and when she grabbed her finger with her tiny hands, it makes Daenerys giggle.
"Hello, my beautiful little princess," said Daenerys, smiling at her daughter, and kissing her little head.
Even while sucking, Daenerys noticed that her daughter was more gentle than her twin.
"How are you going to name her?" asked Ashara.
"Raya," she said, kissing her little hand, and smiling. "Raya Stark."
Ashara said nothing, only smiled, when Daenerys glanced up at her. Her mother smiled, too, as she looked at her, "You were just like Raya when you were born. So joyously, so smiling, so beautiful. And you had won your father's heart immediately."
Daenerys, smiled, glancing up at her mother.
"That is what happened to me. But with both my beautiful children," she said, starting to play with Raya, who finished eating and started to giggle.
"You know what your father said when you were born?" Her mother asked, sitting down, giving Aeinon to Dowager Queen Ashara, who started to sing a lullaby to him.
Daenerys asked her head, and her mother continued, "He said, 'A man can be jealous of his sons, because they will want to gain more fame than him, but his daughter will always be the light in his life.'"
Daenerys giggled at hearing his mother's words. Yes, he did, though sometimes he showed more his severity than his love.
After feeding them, Daenerys laid both of her beautiful children on her bed beside her, now that her mother and Ashara were gone, to get a better look at them.
She can't stop looking at them. Her beautiful children. Aeinon and Raya were so perfect. And they were such a perfect combination of her and Jon.
Although they were twins, they were different anyway, but she could see how close they were now. Even now, she could see their little hands were so close, almost as if they wanted to hold each other, even though they were asleep. But she also felt a certain empties in her body now that they were no longer inside her belly.
Ghost was outside the door with the Unsullied and the Wolfsguard protecting her, while Syrax was in the basket asleep, even though he was growing up very fast.
Suddenly she heard someone knocking at the door, and to avoid waking her puppies, Daenerys got up, although she was still weak from giving birth.
It was her father at the door, and she let him in, while he kissed her on the forehead.
"The Old Gods can be so funny sometimes," said her father as he looked at her son asleep on her bed. "A Stark king with the Targaryen features. Our enemies will say that he is a Targaryen bastard."
"They can say whatever they want. He is a Stark and he is a Targaryen. They just have to look at his eyes and they will know who his father is."
"When the time will come, he will marry-"
"His sister Raya," she said staring at them.
"What did you say?" he asked, and Daenerys could hear the confusion in his voice, as well as a hint of anger, but she didn't care.
However, turning to him, she said with a firm tone, "I said Aeinon will marry his sister Raya."
"Maybe you didn't understand -"
"No father. It's you who don't understand," she said, interrupting him. "I don't want to see a second dance of dragons among my children just because some Lords lust for them, considering we now have a dragon in the family."
"You can't do as you please, Daenerys. The lords won't like that you deny them the chance of union with the crown," said her father. "They'd already turned their noses up at your union with Jon. Especially Manderley."
"And I don't care if the lords like it or not. It's about the future of my children and my family," she said angrily and raising her voice for a moment, but then immediately looked at her children to make sure that her little burst of anger didn't awake them, which thankfully didn't happen. Then approaching her father, she added, " And as for Manderly. Him breaking off the engagement between Winifred and Rhaegar, I'd say they had no say in the matter."
Sighing, and passing his hand over his face he said, "So be it. But until Jon returns, the twins must be separated."
"No," she said, with her eyebrows plucked.
"Daenerys. The enemies are surrounding us. We must keep an heir safe until Jon returns," said her father, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You can't ask me this, father," she said angrily shaking his hand away from her shoulder, trying with all her strength not to scream and wake the children.
"It won't be for long, Daenerys. Just until Jon is back and the enemies are destroyed. We'll take Raya secretly to Dragon keep. She'll be safe there, and your mother will never let her out of her sight. Trust me, Dany."
"No!" she said with clenched teeth. "Now leave, Lord Hand. It is an order from your queen."
Without another word, her father nodded, and after looking towards his grandchildren, bowing, he left the room, and Daenerys knew very well that he was angry now. But she didn't care.
Now that she was alone with only them, Daenerys lye beside her children, watching them and caressing them. She wished that Jon was here to hug them all. To make them feel them feel safe from the dangers in his arms.
"I will never be apart from you, my little puppies," Daenerys said, whispering to them, and caressing them and kidding their little hands. "You are the most important treasure that I have in this world."
And after kissing them on the forehead one last time, Daenerys drifted to sleep next to the newborn babies, and hugging them lightly.