This is a longer update than the last one, and I figured I would update it today even if I'm not entirely thrilled with how it came out. But I want to move the plot onwards lol. Thank you to everyone who reviews!


CHAPTER 23: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

For there being now two kings in residence, things ran very smoothly at Riverrun.

As Robb had said, things pretty much worked themselves out. The Northmen took more heed of Robb, the King in the North, than they did Jon. On the other side, the river lords had taken to Jon quickly, which was fortunate because he would be their king when they won the war.

Lord Edmure especially had taken to Jon. He had been heard to tell of Jon's fight with the Mountain many times. Apparently, Lord Edmure had been one of those who had stopped fighting to watch, although Jon didn't fault him that. Apparently, it had won him Lord Edmure's loyalty.

His slaying of the Mountain was a famed fight already. Every time Jon heard it told, his own deeds got greater and greater, and the Mountain got taller and bigger.

"There he was, all eight feet of him, towering as he did," Lord Edmure could be heard saying. "King Jon hardly came up to his shoulder, but that didn't stop him from killing him easily, did it, boys? He's a king, alright!"

The men around him hooted and hollered. Jon wouldn't call it easily. He wondered idly if a song had been made of it yet, and if not, how long it would take for one to be written. He didn't think long. The thought made the ruby and black diamond crown on his head feel heavier than it was, although that was a feeling he'd become used to in the last few days.

"We've had a letter," said Robb striding towards him.

Jon turned from the sight of Edmure and his friends and followed Robb wordlessly. Ghost padded silently at his heels and as Jon caught up with Robb, Grey Wind and Ghost walked close to each other. They had seemed thrilled to be together again and had been seen many times running through Riverrun together. They had all been even more thrilled when Summer and Shaggy Dog were allowed out of Bran and Rickon's rooms and to join their brothers. Jon had only had a few wolf dreams since arriving in Riverrun, but when he did, he had seen all three of Ghost's brothers and play-fought with them a few times. He knew Bran had wolf dreams as he did, but had been meaning to ask Robb for a while now. Now was not the time though,

Jon looked at Robb curiously. He looked furious. There was a letter clenched tightly in his fist, and Jon felt his stomach drop uncomfortably. Was this news of Sansa's death at the hands of the Lannisters? What else it could be that would make Robb so angry Jon didn't know.

"What is it?" Jon asked urgently when they were in a meeting room, alone but for the wolves. "Is it Sansa?"

"What? No. It's from Tywin Lannister, and apparently, he's had it sent to every lord in the kingdoms."

"Oh. It'll be a rebuttal of the letter I sent, then? What's it say?"

When Jon had declared as king of the Six Kingdoms, they had sent a letter to every castle in the Seven Kingdoms, telling them what Ned had told Jon of his heritage… and of the throne he claimed. He'd signed it as both Jon Snow and Jaeherys Targaryen, hoping to appeal to old Targaryen loyalists. The name was slowly growing on him, but he doubted that he would ever use it exclusively.

Of course Tywin would have sent something disputing the letter. His grandson was sitting on the throne Jon meant to take. He had to say something. But Jon couldn't think of anything that would make Robb so angry. What could they do but deny it?

"What's it say, Robb?" Jon asked again. "Can I read it?"

"No," Robb said quickly. "It's… Lord Tywin says there is truth in what you say of your parentage… but that Prince Rhaegar is not your father. He claims Aunt Lyanna is indeed your mother… and that Lord Stark is your father as he always claimed. And he recognizes no marriage between siblings, so your name is Snow."

It Jon and a moment to realize what he was being told, and when he did it took his breath away. Anger made his heart pound hard for a moment and his vision go red at the edges. But Jon calmed himself just as quickly.

Robb was studying him closely. It had taken Jon a while to realize, but after he had captured and dragged Ser Kevan back to King's Landing, his brother had been almost anxious around him. Jon knew it was just Robb getting used to this new side of him. After all, Jon never would have done that to anyone even a few months ago. And he couldn't quite say why he had done it now, except to say that it had felt right.

Looking back on it now, there was that same, just feeling… it was tainted ever so slightly by his own ill feelings about it, but when Jon felt them, he shoved them down. This was unique between him and the Lannisters. It was only them Jon felt such wrath towards, and only them he would act so harshly against. Only them, Jon knew.

And now was not the place for his anger. Jon calmed himself more forcefully.

"Oh," he said, calmly. "Well, that's a little rich coming from Tywin, isn't it?" Earlier that year there had been a letter from Stannis, the self-proclaimed King, alleging that Tywin's grandchildren were born of incest between Tywin's children, Cersei and Jaime.

"Well, if anyone would know," Robb, who was watching him closely, said.

Then they were both laughing. It wasn't particularly funny, but the tension had swollen painfully between them, and tension demanded an outlet.

"What do we do with the letter?" Robb asked when their laughter had stopped.

Jon shrugged. "Burn it, mock it, both. I don't care."

"You're the king here, too, Jon. Here," he handed him the letter. "You decide."

Robb left then, clapping him on the shoulder as he went and smiling.

That night at dinner Jon chose to mock it.

"Can I have your attention?" he bellowed to the hall as he stood, the letter in his hand.

Immediately, the hall fell silent to hear him. Jon had spoken only a few times, and one of them had been to answer questions. That had lasted little over two hours, but afterwards he was pretty much accepted from his subjects.

"As you know I've sent a letter to every lord and lady in the Seven Kingdoms with the truth of my noble parents and of Lord Ned's noble lie. We've had a response from Lord Tywin, and I believe you all deserve to hear it!"

Feet stomped at that, and hands pounded tables. When Jon explained what Tywin had said, angry yells and exclamations broke out over the hall, especially among the Northmen.

"I know!" Jon yelled over them, choosing to give in to their anger rather than attempt to quiet it. "I know how you feel, my lords! But trust me when I say Lord Tywin will not come away clean with this slander! We're not stupid as Tywin seems to think! Neither is the rest of the Seven Kingdoms! We all know the truth of the so-called king Joffrey and his parentage!"

Laughter rang in the hall.

"Tywin is fooling no one!" When Jon continued next it was in deliberate quietness so that they had to fall quickly silent to hear him. "And my lords, believe me when I say that Tywin will not get away with this. We'll show him how loved Lord Stark was in the north and in the riverlands. We'll show him fire and blood and give him a taste of his own medicine! Tywin has menaced the kingdoms for years, and as your king I promise to rid you of him, and ever Lannister that follows him!"

The northmen were clapping, but it was the river lords who were truly besides themselves. Jon guessed they were less than stirred by the insult to Ned, who they had little care for, and more impressed by Jon's declaration. Being on the Wall had been good preparation for the speeches he'd make as king now. Yelling through a hall with impressive declarations was easy compared to screaming through wind and snow to give simple directions to your brother on the top of the seven-hundred-foot-tall wall.

That evening Jon was in the godswood, when Lady Catelyn entered it. Her hair was a windblown mess over her shoulders and her eyes were glowing.

"Come quick," she said breathless. "We've had a messenger from King's Landing."

Jon was on his feet in an instant, ignoring the pain in his knees from kneeling for so long.

"Who?" he asked as they walked quickly to the castle.

"Jaime Lannister," she whispered in reply, her voice trembling. "And he's brought Sansa with him!"

Jon almost couldn't believe it. Jon couldn't believe it. But Lady Catelyn had spoken truly, and when they burst into the great hall it did indeed contain the Kingslayer and Jon's sister.

Sansa was wearing a plain brown dress, the dullest he'd ever seen her in. A dark, baggy cloak was pulled over it with a large hood at her shoulders and down her back. She had grown up since Jon had last seen her, and her hair was several inches longer, unkept though it was.

"Jon!" she cried when they entered. To Jon's surprise she launched herself into his arms and hugged him tight.

"Sansa," Jon said. He looked at Robb over her shoulder. His face was as shocked as Jon's surely was, still.

Ser Jaime Lannister was dressed as plainly as Sansa, and he too had a long black cloak. He had grown a slight beard and he was as grimy as Sansa was. His eyes had been on Jon as soon as he had come through the door, and his eyes were wide as he took him in.

And then, to Jon's utter shock, the Kingslayer took a knee before him and said gravely, "Your Grace."

Jon took this unexpected turn of events without comment and, gently dislodging Sansa to Lady Catelyn, strode past the kneeling Ser Jaime. Jon didn't acknowledge the man.

"When did they arrive?" he murmured to Robb, who was standing at the front of the room. He gave his back to Ser Jaime for the moment. Then, with a swoosh of his own cloak and a suitably emotionless face, turned to take in the room again.

Ser Jaime climbed to his feet, with a bland face. Jon studied him, not knowing what to make of him even as the man nodded his head to Jon and stared at him. If he had been expecting something from Jon when he kneeled, he didn't let on now.

"Just now," Robb said in the same quiet tone. "He's said only that he wants to speak to King Jaeherys Targaryen. I sent for you, of course."

"That's all he said?" Jon was puzzled. He thought back to everything he had known of the Kingslayer. The man had been firmly on his father's side; his father, Tywin Lannister, who had declared for Robert Baratheon at the last moment and betrayed King Aerys and the Targaryen cause. It had been Jaime Lannister, one of Aerys's own Seven, who had slain the Mad King. That Jaime was here was odd, that he had called him Jaeherys Targaryen- not Snow as his lord father had decreed- was bewildering.

"Yes. Do you want to start or should I?"

"You ask him about Sansa, I'll ask about why he's here. You start."

"Agreed." Robb took a step forward. Loudly, he boomed, "Ser Jaime. We had not thought you would deliver my sisters to us in exchange for your release… and indeed I see only one sister before me now."

Jaime Lannister seemed irritated, but only for a moment. His face was clear and impassive as he said, "Apologies, my lord, but Sansa is the only Stark girl I knew the whereabouts of. If I had known where Lady Arya was, I would have brought her as well."

Robb didn't comment on being addressed as a lord instead of a king. "Are you saying my sister is not in King's Landing?"

"No, she is not, my lord. I don't know where she is. She ran away after the… death of your father, as it were. She hasn't been seen since."

Jon saw Catelyn wince and look at the ground, both of her hands on Sansa's shoulders. They had all but known Arya was dead but hearing it now must surely hurt her mother. As for himself… Jon didn't believe Arya was dead, but he had nothing more than a gut feeling and that was certainly nothing that would comfort Lady Catelyn. Jon kept his silence, waiting.

Robb seemed to sense it was best to move on as Jon had. "We did not expect to see you again, Ser. What became of Lady Brienne, who my mother sent to escort you to King's Landing and the girls here?"

"I have sent Lady Brienne to scour the lands between King's Landing and Riverrun, my lord, in the hopes she can recover Lady Arya."

Robb seemed taken aback, as Jon was. "That is… most thoughtful of you, Ser. May I ask why you came here yourself? Why not send Lady Brienne to deliver Sansa and look for Arya?"

Jaime Lannister shrugged, looking as casual as Jon had ever seen him. "I have come to serve the king, my lord."

Robb opened his mouth, doubtlessly going to ask what Joffrey wanted with them, but Jon spoke before he could.

"Which king is that, Ser?" Jon asked. Jon stared at the Kingslayer intently, watching as Jaime swiveled his head to look at him. Jaime stared at him for a long moment, searching for something Jon didn't understand.

"I knew your father very well, Jaeherys Targaryen. The king I've come to serve is you, if you'll have me, Your Grace."

Jon stared at him for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and said, "I would speak to Jaime Lannister alone."

Even as the others drained from the room at his word, Robb looked at his brother, concerned.

"You don't mean to listen to him?" Robb whispered to Jon.

"Why not? I'll hear what he says. Jaime Lannister would be a powerful ally. Not to mention he's just brought us Sansa."

Robb looked unsure, but only for a moment. "Still, Jon… don't forget the Kingslayer's hand in killing Father… or how he got his name."

"I won't."

Robb considered for a moment, then reluctantly, turned to leave.

"We'll talk later?" he asked as he went. "All of us, together?"

Not all of us, Jon thought, thinking of Arya and of Daenerys, his aunt. But he nodded to his brother and said only, "Aye. Later."

When Jon was alone with Jaime Lannister, the man again took a knee.

"Your Grace," he said. That searching, piercing look was again on his face. It made Jon feel almost uncomfortable, and certainly confused. What did Jaime Lannister want to see in him? But the Kingslayer's words from earlier came back to him…

"You said you knew my father?" Jon asked.

"Yes, Your Grace. I knew Prince Rhaegar very well."

Jon nodded. "From when you were of the Mad King's Kingsguard?"

"Yes," the Kingslayer said, nodding. "But before, as well. He was famous and loved across the Seven Kingdoms. When I came to King's Landing with my father, I saw him only a few times. But when I joined the Kingsguard we grew to be friends."

"Friends?" The thought was odd. "Did you spend much time with him?"

"Some, Your Grace."

Jon wanted to know more. He realized with a start that Jaime was still kneeling awkwardly. "Rise, Ser Jaime. You'll have to forgive me, I'm new to the king business. Let us sit."

They sat at a nearby table, Jon sitting across from Jaime Lannister. The man had been an enemy this morning… but Jon sensed no danger from the man. And Ghost and Longclaw were at Jon's side, so surely no harm could come to him. Ghost had seemed unconcerned with the Kingslayer and now the direwolf didn't so much as blink an eye at him.

"Will you tell me about Prince Rhaegar, Ser Jaime? I've heard little about him except from what others tell me, and that's been little enough."

Jaime brightened, his smile wide and white. He brushed his golden hair out of his face and said, "Yes, of course, Your Grace. What would you like to hear?"

Jon thought. It was a big question. "Did you ever see him fight?" he asked finally. It was a safe enough place to start.

"Yes, Your Grace. Many times. I regret to say I was not with him on the Trident… but I saw him fight often other times. Once I saw him face the Smiling Knight in a melee."

"The Smiling Knight?" Jon was not familiar with the name.

"He was… similar to the Mountain in my youth. He was famed to be eight feet tall or more and about half as wide. His arms were trees and his head a melon."

"I've never heard of him," Jon was fascinated.

"He died before you were born. Your father and the Smiling Knight were the last two standing in a melee at High Garden, part of a tourney held in the honor of the birth of Garlan Tyrell, heir to High Garden. Prince Rhaegar was a fearsome warrior, but next to the Smiling Knight he looked short and small, Your Grace. But Prince Rhaegar was quick, much quicker than someone as strong as he was had any right to be. He was clever, as well. It had been threatening to rain, as it often does that far south, for the entire melee. Finally, as the clouds gave and the ground under their feet turned to mud and the sky above them black, Rhaegar began to purposefully trip and fall into the mud. Many times he fell, until he was coated heavily in mud."

"Why?"

The Kingslayer seemed very young as he smiled, although Jon knew he was in his later thirties. "The Smiling Knight had very bad vision. He was angry now, and if he could see your father to hit him it would have been over then and there. But in the rain and darkness and lightening, and with your father coated head to toe in mud, it was impossible to see him. Then, as the battle dragged on, your father ran at a wall and jumped off it as high as he could. He leapt high into the air, Your Grace. At the same time, there was a huge clap of thunder and a blinding flash of lightening. The Smiling Knight could see him in the air, but it was too late, and Rhaegar came down on him, hard."

"Was the Smiling Knight killed?"

"In a melee, Your Grace? No, but he was knocked to the ground and knocked unconscious at the same time. He'd always has such a small head compared to the rest of him, and that was saying something because his head was huge! Rhaegar hitting him even as he fell to the ground was too much for it to sustain consciousness, I suppose. Your father won. It was quite the victory, in the day. The Smiling Knight had been undefeated, before Prince Rhaegar."

Jon digested this for a few seconds, then said, "Thank you for telling me, Ser Jaime."

Ser Jaime nodded, and they both seemed to know that the time had come to talk more seriously. Before Jon could ask any question of him, Jaime volunteered their answers.

"I… I mainly protected your sister, Princess Rhaenys, Your Grace. When I served Aerys. It… I did not know my father had her killed until it was too late." Jaime looked at the ground, and Jon could see the misery on his face clear as day. "You must believe me; I loved that little girl like she was my own… and I couldn't protect her when it mattered."

"No, you were too busy killing her grandfather." Jon's voice was as cold as his eyes. He may like the Kingslayer… but it was as Robb had said.

The Kingslayer paled and looked very old, although Jon still knew he was only in his thirties. "Yes, yes, I was, Your Grace… but what a king he was… When I killed Aerys, he had just commanded me to bring him his Hand, a pyromancer and sorcerer who made something called wildfire. Aerys had long known the man and had, over the course of many years, had him place caches of the flammable, explosive substance all over the city. And when it was clear the city had fallen when my father came through its gates… well, he would rather see it destroyed than see it fall. Kill them all, were his last words. Kill them all."

Jon knew this was true even as Ser Jaime said it. He couldn't explain why or how… except to say that it was all terribly familiar to him, as if he had seen it somewhere and had forgotten…

"Thank you, Ser Jaime," said Jon. Jaime didn't look at him. "What would you have of me?"

"I—Your Grace, I don't understand." Ser Jaime was the most unsure he'd heard him. Clearly he'd been expecting a swift dismissal, or imprisonment.

"You said you came here with intention to serve me. How would you like to serve me? What would you have of me?"

"Your Grace," Ser Jaime started, confused. He trailed off and looked warily at Jon, as though this were a trick.

"I know you speak the truth of my grandfather, Ser Jaime. I'm not disillusioned with what kind of king he was. He murdered my other grandfather, after all. I know you are telling the story true, and I know why you had to kill him. And make no mistake, Jaime. You did have to kill him. I'm offering you redemption for that in the eyes of everyone who doesn't understand. You broke vows when you slaughtered Aerys, but that does not mean it was the wrong thing to do. If you join my Kingsguard, I swear I shall never give you cause to kill me as Aerys did… and in that way you shall keep your vows."

Jaime gaped at him. "Your Grace," he whispered. "I would be honored to serve on your Kingsguard."

"It's settled then," Jon said. The same feeling inside him that had urged him to drag Ser Kevan back to Riverrun and demand Ser Gregor confess before he kill him was telling him now to accept Ser Jaime into his service. "You will have to tell me what sort of ceremony is expected, I'm afraid I've never seen it done before. Will we need witnesses?"

And so, after a short discussion with a still stunned Jaime Lannister, Jon had his family called back to the room.

"All of them," he told the Tully guard at the door. "Lady Catelyn as well. And you," he said to the second guard as the first one scurried off, "Fetch Lord Edmure, the Greatjon, Lord Karstark, Lord Reed, Ser Brynden, Lord Jonos Bracken and Lord Mallister. Tell them to come in straight away."

There was a steward passing by in the hall, and to him Jon commanded, "Bring me a white cloak. Any white cloak. Now."

Jon shut the door, leaving them both gaping at him.

He and Jaime sat in a silence that was a little less than awkward. Jon was going through the lines that Jaime had told him in his head.

Jon's family and their three wolves, led by King Robb and Queen Jeyne, were the first to come into the room. Bran was carried by Ser Brynden, who had apparently been with them. Jon nodded to the man respectfully before grinning at Robb.

"What's going on?" Robb asked, throwing a distrustful glance toward Ser Jaime.

"I'll tell you when everyone else is here." Jon was still grinning, but Robb just looked worried. "Don't worry, Robb. It's fine. Why don't you all take a seat, my lords and lady? Your Grace?" he asked in a louder voice to the room at large. As he said this, the door opened and the steward entered, a white cloak in his hands.

"Here, Your Grace," the boy said, handing him the cloak. Jon looked it over and decided it would serve.

"Thank you," he said, dismissing him. To Robb he said, "We'll begin shortly."

"What's going on, Jon?" asked Bran, with interest.

He paid little attention to Jaime, the man who had been accused of pushing him from the tower. Jon knew that was a false thread, as he had asked Bran when they were travelling to Riverrun. Bran had looked troubled for a moment, then answered that he had not. If Jaime paled slightly at the sight of Bran, Jon didn't notice.

"We'll talk about it when everyone else arrives." Jon smiled and gestured that they sit down. Reluctantly, still confused, everyone did. Sansa was looking between Jon and Ser Jaime anxiously. Jon winked at her, feeling in an uncharacteristically good mood himself. Sansa smiled, though she still looked worried. She was wearing the same clothes as before, although the cloak was gone.

The rest of the lords and knights he'd invited trickled in slowly. Finally, when they were all here, Jon called attention at the front of the room.

"Thank you all for coming. As I'm sure you've all noticed, Ser Jaime Lannister has joined us from King's Landing, bringing with him my sister, Sansa." Jon clapped an applause, and the rest of the room followed his lead, although he could tell they were confused. When the lackluster applause quieted down, Jon continued, "Ser Jaime has asked that he might join my Kingsguard, and I have chosen to grant him that request. You are all here today to bear witness as I appoint him as Lord Commander of my kingsguard."

Normally the ceremony would be done by the High Septon in the Great Sept of Baelor, but Jon had nothing but vague disdain for the Seven and they were nowhere near the Sept of Baelor. They would do it here, and Jon himself would anoint him. Jaime kept the Seven, but Jon did not and he had adjusted the words slightly. He may plan to rule in the South, but Jon was a northman.

A slight commotion had broken out among those he had assembled at this. Ser Jaime had no fans here and he would make none either, despite having brought Sansa to them.

Jon ignored this commotion.

As they had discussed Ser Jaime took a knee in front of Jon at the front of the room. Jon took his sword and rested it carefully on Ser Jaime's shoulder. The process of raising a knight to the kingsguard, Jaime had told him, was basically the same as making a knight but adding a vow to protect the king and his family.

"Ser Jaime, I charge you to be brave."

Jon switched shoulders and put his heavy sword on his right shoulder now.

"I charge you to protect the innocent."

Left.

"I charge you to be honorable and just."

Right. Jon changed how he was holding the sword and held it in both hands in front of himself, preparing to offer it. The white cloak was slung over Jon's arm.

"Do you hereby vow to protect the king?"

"I do."

"Do you hereby vow to protect the king's family?"

"I do."

"Will you keep the king's secrets in all matters and give me counsel when I require?"

"I will."

"Then I name you, Ser Jaime of House Lannister, as Lord Commander of my Kingsguard, may the gods old and new watch over you. Rise and arm yourself, Ser."

Jaime did and Jon handed him his sword. Jaime held it by his side, already undertaking service of protecting the king, although now it was more ceremonial than functional.

Jon unfolded the white cloak in his arms, noticing it was trimmed with red and thinking of Ghost's coloring. It was untraditional, surely, but Jon liked it. If he ever got any more Kingsguard he'd have to make sure it matched. Jon fastened the cloak around Jaime, who had kneeled again as Jon unfolded it.

Jaime rose, took up his position behind the king, holstered his sword, and the ceremony was over.

"Thank you for coming all," he said to the room.

They all wanted to speak with him, Jon could sense. But he didn't particularly want to hear from any of them, and he swept from the room quickly, with Ghost and Ser Jaime close behind.

Robb tried to catch his eye as he left, and Jon met his for only a moment. Then he headed to the small meeting room Robb and him conferred in often. He suspected that Robb would meet him there, and probably the rest of the Starks, too.

"I'm not sure when I'll appoint any more to my Kingsguard," Jon told Ser Jaime as they walked. "It might be moons."

"That's fine, Your Grace." Ser Jaime was surpassingly cheerful, and a slight smile was yet to leave his face.

"And I understand that usually there's always a Kingsguard with the king, but that really won't be necessary. Just during the day, I suppose will be fine."

Ser Jaime frowned slightly at this. "Who will protect you at night, Your Grace? You have many enemies."

"I will, Ser Jaime. And Ghost."

Ser Jaime had no arguments for that, reluctantly he agreed.

"Was that your brothers Brandon and Rickon I saw in the hall earlier?" Jaime asked, his voice even. "We had reports of their demise."

"As did Robb here and me on the Wall. But when I was venturing down from the Wall to join Robb I found first Bran, then Rickon. They had fled Winterfell when Theon took it over, and when he was unable to find them put it out he'd killed them and raised a few burned bodies to prove it."

"Amazing, Your Grace, that you should find them," Jaime said quietly, sounding amazed. "I should also ask… is Ser Barristan the Bold here, Your Grace?"

"No," Jon said, looking at Ser Jaime curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Cersei and Joffrey had him dismissed from Joffrey's Kingsguard and I've not heard where he went. It was madness, dismissing him. I thought he might be here with Robb Stark, Your Grace. The man needs a king to serve."

"Oh. No, I'm not sure where he went but he isn't here. Perhaps Stannis?"

"My father had no reports as such, but it's possible. Likely, even, I would think, Your Grace."

"You should know," Jon said. "That I've sent a letter to Daenerys Stormborn, my aunt through my father, inviting her here to join me. Aemon tells me a dragon should have three heads, and she will make three. I'm expecting her arrival within a month."

Jon thought for a moment of his half siblings, Rhaegar's other two children. Once they could have together been the three. But they were dead and after the death of Viserys months ago, Aemon and Daenerys were the only Targaryens in the world beside himself. They would make three just as well.

Ser Jaime seemed puzzled. "Did she send a letter in return?"

"No."

"Then, well, forgive me, Your Grace, but how do you know she will come? I imagine she's quite established in… across the narrow sea."

"I just know. I'm certain she'll be here soon." Jon smiled at Jaime.

"Yes, Your Grace. Who is Aemon?" Jaime asked curiously.

"Aemon, of House Targaryen. He was a maester and a sworn brother of the night's watch with me. I took him from the Wall with me and Robb released him from his vows, as have I. He's something like my great uncle. I'm not sure, actually."

"I didn't know there were still Targaryens left in the world, Your Grace," Jaime said. "Other than those across the sea, of course."

"If you had, would you have joined them?" Jon asked, curious. "Or is your loyalty to me only through my father?"

"Only through your father," Jaime admitted. "And your sister, as well, Your Grace."

"You were close to Rhaenys, you mentioned." Like she was his own child, was what Jaime had said. "You will have to tell me of her sometime, I would like to know more about my family."

"I will, Your Grace. Anytime."

"Thank you, Ser. This is the room my family and I meet most of the time. No doubt Robb will be here soon. He doesn't much like you, I'm afraid."

Jaime shrugged, looking unconcerned. "He's not the king I care about."

Jon laughed at that. "Good, and you should know that Robb won't persuade me from this. I'm quite certain you must be my Kingsguard, Jaime."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Just then, the door opened. Jon didn't look.

"Robb, listen, I know what you're going to-"

"It's me, my king."

It was a woman's voice and Jon looked to the door, startled.

"Oh," Jon said, his voice much less friendly. "Jynessa."

King Jaeherys introduced the woman dressed exclusively in red as, predictably, Jynessa the Red, a red priestess from Asshai.

Jaime knew immediately that Jaeherys disliked this woman. His shoulders dropped and he looked uncomfortable.

"Oh. Jynessa," he said in a flat voice. "Ser Jaime this is Jynessa the Red, a red priestess from Asshai. Jynessa, this is the Lord Commander of my Kingsguard, Ser Jaime Lannister. What can I do for you, Lady Jynessa?"

The woman was nothing like Thoros of Myr, the red priest that hung around Robert's court. Where Thoros had been drunk Jynessa was very sober. Where he had laughed, she was stern. He had been extraordinarily loose about his religion, but Jynessa seemed the opposite of loose about her religion in every way.

"My king I must speak with you," she said after staring at Jaime for a short second. Her red eyes were alarming and seeing her focus so startingly focused on Jaeherys was equally as alarming. She was alarming.

"Jynessa, I'm afraid I'm a bit short on time at the moment, I'm expecting King Robb at any minute-"

"It's important, my king."

Jaeherys sighed. "Fine. Speak then, as you would."

"My king I've been watching in the fires for signs of the future and messages from my lord. I have seen many disturbing warnings of times to come, King Jon. For example, I have seen multiple times the Iron Throne—"

The door opening interrupted her. Robb Stark, flanked by his wolf, Sansa, and his mother entered.

"Jon," Robb Stark began for his eyes found Jaime and narrowed. "Might we speak alone?"

"Yes," Jaeherys said, relieved. "Jynessa I must speak with you later; I'm afraid other urgent matters need my attention."

"My king—"

"Later, Jynessa. Thank you."

Jynessa the Red was clearly unhappy, shooting dissatisfied looks at Jaeherys. He seemed not to notice.

"I mean alone," Robb Stark said when she was gone.

"We are alone."

Stark glared at Jaime. "Without the Lannister."

Jaime glared back. Stark may have been his king's cousin, but Jaime didn't much care for Starks. Robb Stark seemed remarkably like his father, although he looked like his mother. Luckily, Jaeherys didn't seem similar to Lord Eddard in any way Jaime had seen yet.

"Ser Jaime is a member of my kingsguard. You just saw him swear to keep my secrets, I'm sure whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of him."

"I could guard the door," Jaime offered before Robb Stark could say anything else. "From the outside, Your Grace."

Jaeherys hesitated, then nodded his acquiescence. "Thank you, Ser Jaime. I don't think it will be a long conversation."

As Jaime passed Robb he was glared at. But Sansa smiled at him, and Jaime found himself smiling back. He stood guard outside of the door, amused to find that it felt about the same no matter which king or where he was. Guarding was guarding.

Jaeherys had been right; it was hardly more than a few minutes later before the king and his direwolf came striding from the room, looking mildly irritated.

"Robb will get over it," he muttered to himself. To Jaime he said, "I'm looking forward to Daenerys arriving," as they walked. The change of topic away from his cousin seemed forced, and his heart clearly wasn't in it. "It will be nice to meet my aunt. Ser Jaime… There is something I need to tell you about myself and Jynessa the Red. Let's talk in my rooms."

Jaime wondered idly if they had had an affair, before remembering Jaeherys wasn't married, which was a standard qualification for affairs. But still, there was something about Jynessa's manner that told him it wouldn't be a surprise if they had been intimate. She'd been… possessive, he supposed, of the king.

In his rooms Jaime was startled when Jaeherys started to shrug off first his cloak, then the shirt he wore underneath. He was faced away from him, and Jaime felt a bubble of confusion.

"Your Grace—what are you-?"

"Look," King Jaeherys commanded as he turned around and faced Jaime.

Immediately all blood drained from Jaime's face as he took in the grievous wounds.

Jaeherys told him quickly what had happened; about his brothers on the Wall and Jynessa the Red's resurrection of him. Jaime couldn't look away from the healing, still pink stab wounds.

"If you're going to guard me," he said after explaining this, "and be with me nearly at all times. You should probably know something. Robb, Aemon and Lady Catelyn know as well. You'll make five, including Jynessa. Do you have a knife?"

"Yes, but why-?"

"May I borrow it?"

Jaime reluctantly took the dagger from his belt and held it out to King Jaeherys. "You're not going to, uh, stab yourself of something, are you, Your Grace?"

Jaeherys grinned. "No, not quite, Ser Jaime. And when we're alone you can drop with the Your Graces and call me Jon."

Jaime faltered slightly, and he must have been noticed because Jaeherys said quickly, "Or, maybe… I suppose you can call me Jaeherys if you must. I'm unaccustomed to the name, but I suppose many will call me it."

"As you wish," said Jaime, still watching apprehensively as the king wielded the dagger. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Jaeherys."

"Sure, Jaeherys."

"Now," King Jaeherys said with a grin. "Watch, and hand me that torch, will you?"

Jaime passed him the torch, but even as he did, with a single stroke, Jaeherys slashed the dagger over his hand. Then, nonchalantly, he took the torch from Jaime. Shockingly casual, he touched the torch to his bloody cut and watched as it took with fire.

"What are you doing?" Jaime yelled, looking around wildly for something to put out the fire.

"Peace, Ser Jaime," Jaeherys said, sounding completely relaxed. Jaime looked at him. He was shocked when the king was still smiling.

After a few seconds, during which Jaime was too stunned to move as he watched the fire skate over his skin, King Jaeherys shook his hand and smothered the fire with his cloak. When he showed Jaime his hand, there was no burned skin… and no cut either. Jaime looked to the dagger still in Jaeherys's hand and stared uncomprehendingly at the blood on it.

"Fire heals dragons," Jaeherys told him, still grinning.

Jaime stared at the young king. Many called Rhaegar the last dragon, Jaime himself among them, but that was no longer true.


I'd like to say that I'm trying to keep Jon as in character as possible while changing the things he does, which is a bit difficult! As a reminder, what others think of Jon is not what I think and not always how I'm trying to characterize Jon in this fic. For example, Jaime seeing so much of Rhaegar in Jon is understandable because Jaime knew Rhaegar, and Robb seeing Ned Stark in everything Jon does is understandable because they were raised together by Ned Stark. Neither is quite true. Both see what they want to see in Jon, so keep that in mind.

Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)