III. Over Mountains and Under Boughs

Seven battlefields they rode over, a lazy convoy streaming through dry dust and scalded mountains, beneath the summer sun.

There were no bones. They had been bleached clean centuries ago, pecked to pieces by vultures and ground down to dust through the passing of years. But it was fun to point out what might have been a skull, or a rib, or a jaw, and send Edric scarpering away from what were in reality just rocks.

After the third such incident when Jon had held up such a rock and bought it so close to Edric he nearly fell off his horse trying to get away, Ashara stepped in. His mother would brook no excuses. No matter how boring the journey was and how saddle-sore Jon was getting, he wasn't allowed to play such tricks on Edric. For his punishment, Jon had to spend an half-an-hour cleaning up whenever they made camp for the night, and again the mornings when they set off.

They had set out of Starfall with a hundred people. There were fifty footmen, garbed in the purple and white livery of Starfall. Then came two dozen lancers, mounted atop the tall white horses of the valley of the Torrent. Attendants and servants, pages and squires, and finally the house of Dayne made up the rest.

The group swelled with each castle they passed. At High Hermitage, the Darkstar and ten men of his household had joined, though Arthur's cousin maintained a distance from the rest of them and stayed at the rear of the column.

Not long after that came Jon's first sight of a castle not sworn to House Dayne. He had expected something like the shining walls of Starfall with its purple banners glittering in the sun. But Blackmont was nothing like that. He was disappointed.

Though the fortress lived up to its name, built on a mountain of dark rock, the castle itself was unimpressive. Blackmont was squat and graceless, sticking out like a fat thumb atop the mountain. Vultures flew through the sky upon yellow banners.

Despite that, the hospitality of House Blackmont was nothing like that of their ancestors. A troop of horsemen escorted them up a narrow, craggy path to the Fortress, where Lady Larra Blackmont greeted them herself.

They stayed in Blackmont for three nights, before continuing on the way. Though both Jon and Edric were sore from the ride, exploring a brand new castle was more than exciting enough. But three days just wasn't enough time to explore a fortress centuries old, and Blackmont guards were at every corner keeping an eye out for mischief.

When they departed, Lady Blackmont followed in their train. The boys were thankful for her presence, as she distracted Ashara from hovering over them.

The next week passed in relative calm. The red mountains were hot and dry, and the noonday sun heated up the trapped air between the passes until it was stifling. They rode with dry lips and cracked throats, keeping their voices low and talking only when needed. At Kingsgrave, the Manwoody brothers joined them with half a dozen knights in tow. Jon watched the older brother with narrowed eyes - he had been one of Allyria's prospective suitors, but the man had an easy smile and seemed to bear no ill will, congratulating her first thing upon joining the party.

By the end of the second week, the mountains of Dorne began to fall. To the north bright red peaks glowed in the sun, but they turned their backs to it. Down the slopes they went, bypassing Skyreach — Lord Fowler had already travelled ahead — and finally riding down the winding paths towards Yronwood.

The red dust of the mountains slowly faded from their travelling clothes as they rode through lush highland forests. They smelt the sea before they saw it. Jon took a deep breath. The Sea of Dorne smelt different than the Summer Sea. Just a tinge sharper and saltier, perhaps.

Breaking through the covers of the trees, they found the lands of Yronwood laid out before them. A green valley even wider and deeper than the valley of the Torrentine. At the far end of the valley, on a high cliff overlooking the Sea of Dorne, stood a broad castle of steely walls and many towers. Black and yellow banners fluttered in the sea breeze below wheeling gulls.

The road between Skyreach and Yronwood was very well travelled. The company made their way along a winding road that passed through farms and forests. The smallfolk they passed by stopped to watch such a procession of knights and highborn passing by.

The valley was big enough that they were still more than half a day from Yronwood when the sun started dipping. Instead of pushing late into the night, Ashara called for a camp. They were travelling to a wedding, not to war, so there was no need to show up at the gates in the dead of night, bedraggled and exhausted.

They set off again early the next morning. Jon was at the lead of the column, with his mother and uncle, when a cry went up from the outriders. He squinted into the distance to see nearly a score of horsemen approaching, bearing the colours of Yronwood. Most of them. Here and there, other colours were visible, from minor houses sworn to Yronwood. But the horse near the lead, barded in burnt orange, stood out.

As they drew close, Jon saw that they were equipped for hunting, with Longbows, nets and packs, hunting spears and the like. The lead rider called out, "Greetings, Lord and Lady Dayne! What a pleasant surprise to run into you on the road!"

"Cletus Yronwood?" Arthur called back, "You've grown, boy! I see the old man finally got you over your fear of horses."

The man grinned, "Did that a long time ago! We'll have to catch up over some drinks. These lads won't let me hog all your attention!" He gestured towards a few of his companions, who trotted forwards. Jon watched with interest - they were an eclectic group. One towered over everyone else, a bald giant who seemed like he wouldn't even fit on his horse. Another was a few years older than him, lanky and blonde. The third seemed to be almost of an age with Jon, perhaps a year or two older, with skin and hair darker than his companions. "The big one's my cousin, Archibald. We don't know when he'll stop growing."

There was a smattering of laughter from the group. "Gerris, of House Drinkwater! Keep him away from the maids, or he'll get slapped!" The blonde scowled as his companions tittered again. And the last, "Quentyn Martell, our little prince." The prince gave an easy bow at his name.

"Then I must return the honour!" Arthur spoke in the same light tone Cletus Yronwood was using. Jon tilted his head to listen better. It wasn't a very common tone, coming from his uncle.

"My sister, Ashara Dayne, the lady of Starfall. My niece, Allyria, for whom all this fuss is about. My nephews, Jon and Edric." The Darkstar, Blackmont and Manwoody parties presented themselves in succession, having ridden up from further back along the column.

The exchange of names and curtsies done, Ashara asked, "What brings you so far out of Yronwood?"

"Hunting." Quentyn answered excitedly. "For tonight's feast-"

Cletus cut him off with a booming laughter. "My father keeps Quentyn busy. He practically snuck out, when he heard we were going on hunting!" His gaze flickered towards Jon, who waited a few paces behind his uncle.

"Do you want to join us, Jon?" Quentyn suddenly spoke up, cutting his foster brother off in return. Cletus started in surprise, then shrugged and let the prince take the lead.

"What?" Jon looked up, startled. Go hunting with the older boys? That was a surprise. His uncle didn't go on many hunts, and he'd only joined the household hunters a few times. He whirled around, "May I, Mother? Please?"

"Aren't you tired? We've been on the road for weeks."

"It won't take long." Quentyn piped up helpfully, "We'll be back in Yronwood by sunset. These woods are safe."

He glanced between his mother and uncle pleadingly. After a moment, Ashara sighed, waving at him. "Fine, Jon, go. Stay safe."

As he trotted past Arthur, he grabbed his arm and leaned in close. "Remember, you don't have to answer anything they ask. Don't forget what I told you."

Nodding in response, Jon hopped off his horse, running back to the baggage train. It took only a few minutes to collect his gear – a hunting bow tightened for his size, a pair of short spears, and some other supplies – they had bought it all just in case. Fastening everything to his horse, he climbed back on as quickly as he could, determined to show off no childish weakness.

Two of the Dayne horsemen trotted along behind Jon as he joined the hunting party. Quentyn grinned widely at him and he grinned back, and they set off.

At first, there was a companionable silence among the highborn at the fore of the party. Jon took the time to observe his new companions and surroundings in detail. Archibald was even bigger than he had expected. In fact, he was the biggest person Jon had ever met, and it was a little intimidating. By contrast, Quentyn Martell was truly of an age with him. The young prince wore a fine hunting coat, gold and orange, with the red sun of House Martell painted bright and proud on it.

The woods looked to be about half an hour away, further up the slope, though in a different direction than the one they'd come from.

Jon did a double check on his gear as they rode. A few of the hunters were chatting away behind them, but the highborn boys at the front were quiet. Some would have called the silence companionable, but he wasn't quite sure.

"Have you ever been hunting before, Jon?" Quentyn suddenly turned around.

Jon nodded, "A few times. Moth- Lady Ashara doesn't usually like it when I go out of the castle by myself." With so many people around, it would probably be best to refer to his parents formally. "I have to take Uncle Arthur with me whenever I leave the castle, but he can't go out very often."

Reining his horse a little to ride alongside, Quentyn asked, "She's really protective of you, isn't she? I thought for a moment she wouldn't allow you to come. Felt like a close thing back there."

With a shrug, Jon answered, "I– I understand why, though. Last year, I was exploring and fell into the sea caves under the castle. Almost broke my leg too. It took them a day to find me."

"Whew, do we have another troublemaker on our hands?" Drinkwater whistled.

Archibald Yronwood nodded slowly. "Your mother is right to be worried. We have caves like that, down by the shore. Divers enter at low tide to look for two things: pearls, and bodies."

"So you say cooped up in the castle all day?" Drinkwater said, "Has to get absolutely stifling. I don't know what I'd do if I were penned up like our little prince here."

"It's not that bad!" Jon protested, "Starfall is really big, and I can go down as far as the village if I want! I just need to take someone with me"

"Not seeing it..."

Quentyn cut in, "Oh, ignore Gerris. He needs at least five villages full of comely maidens to keep him busy."

The essence of the joke seemed to miss Jon somewhat, but he chuckled along with the rest. "It's okay. I don't really mind how protective Lady Ashara is. Mothers are always supposed to be protective, aren't they? It just proves she's my mother, after all."

Then Jon noticed the change in the atmosphere. It wasn't something really obvious. Just a moment's hesitation, and half-glances towards each other. A slight tension in their bodies that causes the horses to slow down just a bit. Uncle Arthur had taught him to read his other peoples' bodies, and that skill was coming in handy even outside a fight.

To their credit, though, they recovered admirably. Gerris gave a half-hearted nod and turned away from the conversation. Quentyn smiled, "That's true, Jon. My own mother fought tooth and nail to keep me at home at Sunspear, but Father was adamant on fostering me here."

"But he didn't have a choice, right? After what your–" Jon cut off the instant he remembered who exactly he was talking to. The maester had updated him to the politics between all the Dornish houses, as recently as Oberyn Martell's exile. Bringing it up like this would be the height of rudeness.

"It's fine," Quentyn dismissed the faux pas with a wave, "I know it's politics, but I can't help feel I'm the reason mother went back to Norvos."

"We can't control what other people do." Jon stated.

"That would sound much wiser if you were more than nine namedays old."

"I'm ten namedays–!"

A peal of laughter went up at Jon's indignant response. The awkwardness of moments past seemingly forgotten, the company passed into the shade of the woods.

They had to be quiet here, to avoid startling their prey. The conversation winded down to exchanges of whispers and gestures. The hunters dismounted loosed tall slender hounds, who only paused for a moment to sniff the air before shooting off into the thickets. Just a short wait, then the long howls of the hounds came baying from far off, and the hunters spurred their mounts onwards in pursuit.

Lordlings they were, hunters they were not. Although the boys tried to keep up with the rest of the party, only the two Yronwoods were experienced enough to join the chase. They settled for keeping close together following behind as best as they could, and a handful of armsmen stayed by their side.

Though he hadn't really exerted himself on the hunt, Jon was exhausted by time the hunt ended. The sun had passed its zenith. The hunters trotted behind them once again, carrying a pair of large bucks suspended on wooden frames between two horses.

It took them several hours longer to reach the castle. The sun was getting dangerously close to dipping, and it seemed there would be hardly enough time to cook the deer they had hunted. Archibald reassured Jon, though, that their cook was a wizard. Apparently, leaving preparations until the very last moment was a time-honoured tradition of House Yronwood.

They made it in good time, however. The sun had hardly turned orange when they rode in under the wrought iron portcullis into the courtyard of Yronwood. A pair of Dayne retainers had been standing by, waiting for Jon's arrival. They looked awkward and out of place, and Jon gave them an apologetic nod as he handed over his horse. There was no time for him to stable it himself - not unless he wanted to arrive at the welcome feast late and soggy.

The halls and corridors of Yronwood were many and mazelike, but the servant who led him through seemed to know her way by heart. She navigated the low and cramped passages at a brisk trot. Jon just barely kept up with her - his energies were finally flagging. Every corridor looked like every other, composed of low stone in shades ranging from slate to rust. Torches hung on old iron brackets.

Jon had no chance to rest once he arrived at his room. Ashara was there, arms folded. She had long since washed and changed, though her hair was only half-braided.

Her face lightened a fraction the moment she saw him, suffering from nothing but tiredness. "Bath, clothes." She snapped. "Be quick about it." Then in a lighter tone, she added, "I know you're tired, sweetheart. I told you so. But we all have to be presentable at the feast."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jon headed off to the bathtub at the back of the room. Once his mother left to finish getting ready, Jon stripped off quickly, wincing from the saddle-sores, scrubbed himself off with the help of one of servants, brushed and tied his hair and quickly put on a fine shirt and trousers.

His family was waiting just outside. Grabbing Edric's hand, Jon followed his elders to the dining hall.

The feast was just about to begin as they entered. Their hosts had been waiting for them. Ashara and Allyria entered first, followed by Arthur, and finally Jon and Edric. Places of honour had been set aside for them at the high table, to the very right of the Lord and Lady Yronwood.

There were only four empty chairs.

Jon almost stumbled in surprise. There was no way they would-

-would they? He glanced up desperately at his uncle, but Arthur didn't seem to have noticed it yet.

He really didn't want to be the center of drama. Even though he had been raised up like any trueborn son, he knew, intellectually, that not everyone would be so relaxed towards a bastard. He understood. He was fine with not sitting at the high table if they didn't want him to.

But there was no way his mother would stand for it.

"Jon! Over here!"

Jon's head snapped up towards the shout. To the left of Anders Yronwood was his eldest son and heir, Cletus. Beside Cletus, Archibald gave Jon a nod of acknowledgment. Quentyn sat next to Archibald, and beside Quentyn was an empty seat the Prince was pointing at.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jon passed Edric's hand to his uncle and joined his new friend. Soon, they were chattering away on a hundred topics. In the midst of a debate on the merits of swords versus spears, each boy holding their uncles up as exemplars, the beginning of the feast was announced. The debate was cut short by the arrival of the food. It was a grander feast than almost any Jon had ever seen at Starfall.

The centerpiece of the feast was a great piece of venison, the same venison they had hunted earlier the day, roasted in coals. The skin was dark and crisp and utterly delicious. But that wasn't all - there were chicken legs and breasts, golden brown and covered in leafy greens, set on platters alongside glistening ribs of mutton glazed with honey. There were bowls of cheese of three different shades and bowls piled high with diced peppers blood-red and sunset-orange in colour and bowls of oranges and dates and other fruits Jon could hardly name.

Men passed around pitchers of wine, red and purple, talking and cheering with loud voices to the roaring of the hearth. A group of minstrels sang gaily even if the words of their song was lost in the tumult. The feast was louder and more energetic than any feast Jon had ever been to.

Despite that, he was with family and friends, and with a fat goblet full of Dornish Red in hand that Gerris had snagged for him, he was as satisfied as he could be.


Look, I know I promised more drama and action this chapter, but I also promised this chapter like a year ago. Stuff happens.

A lot of this chapter is me experimenting with the Tolkienic style, particularly the flow of travelling through a scene even as its being drawn up. Still a long, long way to go for that. But anyway, since I'm writing again, expect a few more updates for this until I get way too busy again. I have one more chapter completed and edited, and another a bit ways in. Plus, the whole story is completely plotted out though from what my outline tells me it's going to be a bit lengthy.

Glad to have you guys reading and reviewing, though!