Wolf of Numenor

by keller.blair1

Jon snow the bastard of Eddard Stark has spent the last six years in Highgarden finding true friends among the reach lords and ensnared the heart of the golden rose. His Journey shall take him to lands far from the shores of Westeros and here he shall find true kinship among the faithful. Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta.

71. A party, a romance and an execution

Rhaella and Jon deal with a blossoming romance all the while the spies of the King's Men plot to overthrow the Prince of Osgiliath and yet our dearest Viper still finds time to plan a celebration for her wolf. Kindly leave a comment I am eager to hear from you all as we begin the War of the Last Alliance next chapter.

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The next morning

The first thing Daenerys felt when she awoke was the warmth of the Southron Sun; she had hoped to rest longer, but the need for water was greater than the want to sleep when she sat up; she spied her mother and nephew cuddling under his cloak.

"Well, it seems the blood of Valyria runs hot indeed," Daenerys murmured in astonishment.

Daenerys recalled the affairs of the prior evening; her nephew and mother were wholly consumed by their passion, akin to dragons mating in the sky. It was rather sweet in a way for her mother to find love again but yet odd as well as she hadn't expected this to happen, nor had she any inkling of what Jon and her mother would do once awake.

"Perhaps it's best that I say nothing," Daenerys thought as she hastily slipped on her dress.

But at that moment, both Jon and her mother began to stir; it was her mother who woke first, seemingly unaware of what had transpired.

"Has the sun risen?" Rhaella asked sleepily; she felt pleased and sated though she couldn't guess why it was then she opened her eyes and saw she lay in the arms of her grandson, her precious Baelon, her beloved fool.

"Mother?" Rhaella heard her daughter's voice startling her, and she quickly covered her bare breasts with her arm.

"Dany… I…" Rhaella tried to say, but her daughter hugged her.

"It's not necessary… I… I saw what ensued, though I won't begrudge you a night of passion," Daenerys said merrily.

"I thank you for your kindness, my sweet child though I fear Jon may regret our actions", Rhaella answered, her sparkling with tears.

It was then Jon roused himself, casting aside the cloak revealing his nakedness to the sun.

"By the Valar...what happened?" He wondered, and then he spied his grandmother unclothed like himself.

Jon's face swiftly reddened, undoubtedly embarrassed by his actions.

He began to apologise profusely and name all the ways he would preserve her honour, but his grandmother silenced him with a kiss; they kissed for what seemed an Age before she looked at him again and smiled.

"Jon… My grandson…I do not regret what we shared, only that we tarried so long in this dance. I have desired you for innumerable years, and now we have shared what I desired," Rhaella said happily; she hid nought from him, baring her body to the world.

Her beauty bewitched him once more, and it filled his heart with happiness to know that a maiden as fair as his grandmother desired him, his mind told him it was wrong, yet his heart sung in joy like the fire of the forge freshly lit.

"We'll speak on the matter later, my love... though I think it best we continue on to Osgiliath... it seems our dragons saw fit to abandon us no doubt the damned lizards are hunting," Rhaella said, labouring to cover herself with her torn dress, she cared little if her grandson admired her form; it wasn't proper for Dany to see her in such a state.

"Sorry I ruined your dress," Jon said sheepishly as his grandmother snorted.

"Think nothing of it, Jon; it is no more ruined than your clothes, and I daresay we shall ruin many garments before our lives are over, " Rhaella said merrily, and Daenerys laughed before embracing them both, seemingly at peace with her tryst.

"Well, there is a stream nearby we can bathe, and I shall catch us some breakfast," Jon said happily, leaving his loves to demolish the camp; while this may seem foolish, he perceived the dragons weren't far off and would come if needed.

He returned after a time with several large fish and several skins of water, Jon spied his aunt and grandmother in the distance bathing, and so he set to work striking a fire and boning the fish.

As he sat there, Jon thought back on the previous night. Of all the things he had done in life, bedding his grandmother was the queerest among them, yet he felt no shame; rather, a fierce love filled his heart akin to a blazing fire it wholly consumed him.

While he was lost in thought, Rhaella and Dany had returned from their bath and sat on either side of him before digging into the fish supper he had just prepared.

After feasting on the fish, they thought to summon their dragons, yet Jon halted as he spied a great cloud of dust.

"What's wrong, Jon?" Daenerys asked curiously.

"A great host is drawing near…." Jon said calmly as his aunt and grandmother looked at each other in terror; perhaps the Haradrim had found them and sought revenge for their masters or worse, the men of Khand who prowled the deserts eager for slaves to bring to market.

"Are you certain, Jon?" Rhaella asked shakily.

"I can see them… But they're no men of Umbar, nor are they Southrons; it seems our family has come," Jon said happily to Daenerys and Rhaella's bewilderment.

It was then they heard the sound of many horns in the distance like a great clamour of music.

Soon Daenerys and Rhaella gleaned his joy. Away into the distance, there were many riders; some carried banners of satin bearing a familiar device, a white tree crowned by seven stars, the livery of Gondor.

Help had arrived… although a little late.

"Praise be to the Valar," Rhaella said, tearfully hugging her daughter.

They remained in the camp, and soon, the riders were upon them ... Then two rode forward... it was Arya and Rhaenys.

"Jon!" Arya shouted, jumping off her horse and embracing him in a fierce hug that he eagerly returned.

"Grandma!" Rhaenys cried, swiftly dismounting her mare when she saw her grandmother's dishevelled appearance Rhaenys unclasped her cloak and wrapped her in it.

"Rhaenys", Rhaella said with tears in her eyes.

"Are you well? We heard little new save that the Corsairs had taken you to Umbar," Rhaenys asked tearfully.

"I'm fine, my dear girl; Jon saved us, and we had camped here," She replied, holding her granddaughter close.

At that moment, he parted from Arya and stared at her queerly.

"What are you doing here, Arya?" Jon asked earnestly, but his cousin gave no answer save a slap across his cheek. It stung, but he wouldn't admit that.

"Damn fool, I came for you... All Osgiliath is in an uproar. When Lord Azrubên realised your intentions, he bid the household guard marshall a throng of soldiers to besiege the City; we offered to accompany them while the others remained to prepare a feast for your return," Arya said excitedly.

"I see… Alas, this van shall not be needed; Umbar has paid a heavy price already…." Jon said to everyone's surprise.

"What do you mean, Jon?" Rhaenys asked, still embracing their grandmother.

"The Ar-Adûnâim learned what it means to wake the Dragon", Daenerys answered unexpectedly; it was then one of the soldiers stepped forward; he was tall gallant, green-clad and was girt with sword.

"Tell me your name, soldier," Jon said sullenly, and the knight knelt down.

"'I am named Erendor son of Éomund and am called the March Warden of Parth Galen. I beg your pardon, my Lord. I tried in vain to stop your kin from accompanying us, but it did little good," Erendor said; Rhaenys at least had the proper sense to look embarrassed while Arya seemed wholly pleased.

"I understand… But I fear that Daenarys speaks truly… The Haven lies in ruins; I tore down its walls and laid low their warriors of old, and their like is not in the world again. And the accursed temple of Shadows was smote by dragon fire," Jon said while the soldiers stared and him, half amazed, half terrified at the savagery of their Prince.

"This is splendid news, my Prince..." Erendor said

"I'm certain that Lord Azrubên and Calmacil will be happier for it," Jon responded coldly.

"They deserved it; those craven fools thought it wise to kidnap my mother and me hoping it would allow them to plunder Gondor at their leisure" Daenerys wept in a fury, and Jon embraced her, arousing the ire of Rhaenys and Arya.

Although they remained silent, knowing the horrors Dany must have faced in that cursed city.

"My Prince… I have a request if I may, " Erendor said.

"Speak," Jon ordered.

"Now that Umbar is in ruins and its leaders are dead, we may capture Umbar in the name of Gondor..." Erendor said to the bewilderment of all present.

Jon regretfully separated from Dany and said nought, gazing northward for a moment; then at last he spoke.

"I say neither yea nor nay." He said after a few minutes.

"But?... My Prince, this chance..." Erendor tried to say.

"Which is not for us to take… that right lay in the hands of Isildur and Anárion. I am not so arrogant as to flout the rule of our Kings… Moreover, our strength is not so great as to claim mastery of these lands, nor shall I commit to such a venture of old our kin were tyrants among these peoples as we shall be no better should we claim their city now…." Jon said in a deep voice.

"I understand, my Prince…." Erendor said after a moment, but he could tell the warden was disheartened, as were his men.

"But you are also right, and we must not miss this opportunity, choose your swiftest riders, send them to Minas Anor and Minas Ithil, so our Kings may glean all that transpired... they shall know what to do," Jon said, and Erendor laughed merrily.

"As you command, my Prince", Erendor said before marshalling his officers.

"This shall bring great change to the Southron Kingdoms," Rhaella said gaily, undoubtedly pleased that Osgiliath had sent them aid.

"A political theatre awaits us as we return to Osgiliath; I'm certain Azrubên will wish to know all that happened and how I intend to make good on my promises…." Jon sighed wearily.

"It was wise to leave the decision in the hands of Isildur and Anárion… You are respectful of their authority," Rhaella said, leaning against him, something that was noticed by Rhaenys.

"Thank you... If there is nothing of note, let's persist with our march... I want to return to Osgiliath... And if it is possible to inform the council of what I uncovered in Emyn Arnen..." Jon said, surprising everyone since they had forgotten their trip to those hills.

"Did you find anything in those hills?" Rhaenys asked, arching an eyebrow.

"My dearest sister, I shall tell you all of what I uncovered but let us leave this cursed place", Jon bid anxiously; though they were dispirited with him, they said nothing and swiftly mounted their horses and shot away northward to hearth and home.

Osgiliath (Days later)

Many days had passed since the Host of Erendor had departed south to give aid to Prince Jon, and the whole of the City awaited the news of a great victory against their hated kin.

Meanwhile, Jon's lady loves busied themselves planning a great party to celebrate their beloved's return though not all of them were so keen for merriment and song; Shiera and Ashara recalling the tragedy of Isengard, had prepared themselves for the tending of men wounded in battle or dying.

As for Írimë and Galadriel, they had dwelled with their kin far removed from the governance of the city, yet on many an evening, they glimpsed the princesses tracing the movements of Stars; perhaps they gleaned what had happened in the South.

The Lords Erendur and Calmacil had returned from the battle of the Havens; though both were riven by many wounds, they cared nought; instead, the proud Lords had flung themselves at the feet of the Steward, begging forgiveness, yet the old Lord scolded them and reminded them it was Jon's forgiveness they must seek not his.

Although not everything was so grim, according to the men who returned from Emyn Arnen, a great vein of silver was uncovered in those barren Hills, now stood there a fort of stone to guard the great mine; this news was graciously received by the council with many among them praising their princes' foresight.

Some even whispered he was Tar-Palantir come again, and their love for their prince rose ever higher.

Shiera and Galadriel were exceptionally cheery to learn of their beloved's wealth and hoped he would forge objects of great loveliness for them.

Although he had departed Osgiliath not a fortnight ago, it felt as if he had been away beyond the count of years, yet when he gazed upon the High Walls, all weariness left him and love filled his heart.

Soon, he would see his dearest viper again, his dearest cousins, and his beloved Shiera and Ashara. Yet he perceived another presence, one he had not felt in many, many months. His beloved Galadriel and Írimë had come as they had promised.

"Praise be to Eru for allowing me this great love," Jon thought, his eyes wet with tears. He shouted in happiness, and the horse sprang away swift as a bird on the wing.

It had been too long since he had settled down, and as he came upon the City, Jon vowed his days of adventure were done.

"Oh... I can see Nin Mel," Írimë said, chortling with delight and the sound of her laughter gladdened the Dúnedain Galadriel smiled, amused that the proud men of Westernesse would fall to the charms of an Elf so readily.

She and her aunt stood before the gates of the City alongside Azrubên, and their beloved's countless relations eager to welcome him after his great battles in the South Írimë was especially keen to see Jon and hear the tales of conquest.

Indeed they were vexed they had been parted from Jon for so long; no doubt those girls had done much for him while they lingered in Edhellond, showering him with much acclaim and adoration perhaps these silly girls had desired she and Arantis wouldn't return to claim their beloved dragon.

Something that the two of them will correct swiftly; after all, Lord Azrubên had placed their chambers nearest to Jon's, something that both Artanis and she are very grateful for, particularly knowing how envious their beloved's relations were.

But all that must wait as she discerned the jealously of Sansa and especially Shiera; indeed, many would mistake them for fellows of Maeglin's house. Írimë hoped this wouldn't sour the mood as Arianne had done a great to prepare Jon's welcoming feast, and she would loathe for it to be ruined by petty rivalries.

"Oh, by the Valar, must these women be consumed by such jealously?" Írimë thought in unhappiness, then she felt warm hands embrace her own.

"Don't fret; whatever they summon against us, we shall master it. No foul trick shall see us parted from Jon again… Besides, I have a gift for our dragon…." Galadriel whispered to her, and Írimë smiled, knowing that Jon would be well cared for between the two of them.

"You speak truly, niece, we've waited too long to be with our dearest Dragon, and nought shall spoil it", Írimë answered, and her niece smiled happily, feeling the love Jon bore them.

At last, Jon trotted to the gates of the City and saw that his family and the old Lord had come to welcome them home. He swiftly dismounted his horse and approached them, receiving Azrubên first.

"Lord Azrubên", Jon said in greeting.

"It is a comfort to see you again, my Prince… Especially after your… time abroad…." Lord Azrubên choosing his manner of speech carefully.

"Thank you for your words Lord Azrubên… And I am ever in your debt for governing our fair City in my absence though it seems you have glad tidings as well, honoured visitors from the Elven Kingdoms…." Jon said, glancing at Galadriel and Írimë lovingly.

Although their joy was swiftly quelled when Rhaenys and her aunt appeared on either side of Jon, neither Targaryen had a glimmer of remorse as they shot the Galadriel a rather dirty look.

Doubtless, many glimpsed the soured expressions of the Elven maidens and feared a brawl may happen between the Targaryen maidens and the Firstborn of Ilúvatar.

The old Steward smiled. "Perhaps my Prince would like to rest first… It's been a long journey after all…" but Jon refused him. "Nay, My aunt and grandmother, may rest if they bid, but we have much to attend to, chiefly the fate of our Southron kin," upon hearing her beloved words, Galadriel brought her hand to her mouth in shock.

"What fate do you speak of, my Prince?" Lord Azrubên asked, fearing the retort.

"Umbar was devastated," Jon responded somberly. Many wailed in astonishment, and Lord Azrubên seemed shocked or perhaps frightened.

"What are you talking about, my Nin Mel?" Írimë asked worriedly, and Jon sighed.

"The Lords of the Ar-Adûnâim… sought to wed my grandmother and Dany wishing for our friendship, so they said, but all here know of the falsehoods of the King's men they desired to ravage our coast unburdened of reprisal," Jon said with such revulsion that for an instant it seemed a gloom had fallen upon him.

While others looked pityingly at Rhaella and Dany.

"That is wholly appaling though I know nought of the honour of the King's Men if they have any left to speak of," Lord Azrubên said with indignation.

"Aye, I roused the dragons and drowned the city in fire; The temple of the Great Enemy lay in ruin, and their Lords were slain by mine and Daenerys' hand," Jon said dangerously.

"That was…" Lord Azrubên said with a gulp.

"Fire and Blood are the words of my House, Lord Steward. I reward fealty with love, valour with honour, cruelty with vengeance. Such was the way of Old Valyria; will you deny me my vengeance?" Jon asked, and Azrubên gulped.

"Of course not, my Prince… though it is rather fortunate long have we been troubled by the Lords of the South …" Lord Azrubên said, stroking his beard.

"I agree… We must send letters to Isildur and Anárion to tell them what happened and swiftly send a retinue to Umbar least Sauron discover the fate of his cruellest servants," Jon said.

Azrubên smiled. "It shall be done, my Prince… Although considering the significance of the matter, I ask your consent to use the Palantiri of our City," He smiled at the old Lord. "You have leave to use it, my Lord, though be swift I wish to settle the matter before all else."

"The day will come when I will have to use the Palantir, but for now, my mind and my spirit are weary," Jon thought sadly.

"Well… It would be best if we adjourn to the council chambers... there is a matter of great importance we must debate," Jon said dryly, glancing at his loved ones and Counselors. At that moment, he realised that Galadriel was eyeing him and sensing what she pretended he communicated with her in the way he most enjoyed… with his will.

"My beloved Galadriel, I am ashamed to ask you this so soon after your arrival… But I ask you to accompany me to this gathering, I have desired to see you and Lalwen for months, but duty prevents me from enjoying your company," Jon asked, and for a moment, she said nothing, but then she smiled sweetly.

"I am honoured you have faith in me, my beloved wolf… So I will accompany you to this council. Indeed I'd wager that I shall be advising you for many years to come, " Galadriel answered gaily.

"Thank you, my beloved Star…." Jon thought, delighted she would oblige him.

"Come then, send the ravens to Kings Isildur and Anárion so they might decide Umbar's fate and summon the council... I wish to conclude this matter swiftly, and then Valar willing sleep till Arda ends," Jon said beseechingly and the old Lord nodded.

"As you wish, Prince Jon... Although it is a pity since your young friends and I had scheduled a party to herald your return," Said Lord Azrubên, gladdened to see his young prince as a conqueror rather than a green boy.

"All the more reason to end this gathering shortly...then we may feast, drink and smoke to our heart's content," Jon said merrily.

"Oh, my silly wolf..." Arianne said though her countenance was soured, knowing her party would be postponed until this queer business was settled.

Jon smiled and placed a kiss on her brow. "I know Ari, I'm sorry you've all put a great deal of effort into this party, but all shall be better for it if I recount all that has happened first. But, grandmother, you may rest; these days have been wearying beyond hope, and I suppose you would like to be alone," Jon said, but his grandmother shook her head.

"No, Baelon… I shall attend the party… But first, I'd like to take a hot bath and change my attire," The Dowager Queen said, lamenting her current appearance and Jon knowing she wouldn't be swayed, relented.

He turned to Azrubên again. "How fair Lord Calmacil and Earendur?"

"According to the last missives, they are both wounded… But alive; indeed, Lord Calmacil has not ceased thanking you for your gift, my Lord. He professes that it is the only thing that kept him alive…." Lord Azrubên said, and Jon smiled with comfort, especially when thinking of Lady Andreth, who won't have to mourn her father yet.

"This news brings me joy, my Lord Azrubên… Carry out your charges, and I wish you to nominate the Ladies Galadriel and Írimë a seat on the Council," Jon ordered, and Azrubên nodded, causing a chorus of murmurs as many wondered why their Prince had requested Elves sit upon the council.

A little later, after a short bath which he was certain he had dozed off several times, Jon hurriedly dried himself and was about to put on his robe when he noticed Írimë, Galadriel, Shiera, and Ashara had entered his chambers.

"Hello…" Jon greeted with a tired smile.

"Well met, my foolish dragon…." Lalwen said lovingly, and her smile illuminated the room.

Without stopping, Írimë strolled forward, wrapping her arms around her beloved's neck, revelling in their closeness; indeed, he was of the same mind and returned his Lalwen's embrace with equal devotion.

"She smells of… Vanilla and sunflowers…." Jon thought, enraptured by Lalwen's perfume; their eyes met and then she kissed him passionately, seemingly forgetting they were not alone.

He was soon lost in the passion of his elven love. Too long had they been parted, now she stood before him, and he had no letting her go; they kissed for what felt like ages. Alas, the need for air triumphed over their passion, and they separated.

"My Nin Mel…" Jon said with such love that Írimë blushed like a maiden, and at that moment, Jon realised that Ashara, Shiera and Galadriel were glancing at him expectantly.

"Welcome, Jon…" Shiera said with a smile full of love and happiness.

"Shiera, my beloved silver dragon… and Ashara, my amethyst maiden…." Jon said, moving to embrace them.

"Hello, Jon… Oh, my beloved fool, it seems trouble shall follow you wherever you go…." Ashara said, and Shiera chortled

"Aye, so it would seem… but I did honour the words of House Targaryen… I drowned Umbar in Fire and Blood…." Jon said grimly, though this did little to deter his lady loves Shiera seemed inflamed with passion, and Ashara's eyes glittered in ardour.

Then, his gaze fell upon the last person in the room, his Star of the West.

"You came back to me…." Jon said in a whisper, and Galadriel approached him and placed a kiss upon his brow.

"Of course, my beloved wolf... I shall always find you..." Galadriel said, and then she kissed him with such affection that his companions swiftly reddened. Even Írimë was astounded that her niece was so devoted to Jon.

It was wholly remarkable that the Lady of Light was in a harem, and the Elf maiden could be so spirited.

Galadriel persisted in heaping him with affection, her voice sweet as summer's wind. "You have no idea how I've missed you, Jon… I lay awake many nights yearning for your warmth and touch…."

"My star…" Jon said, utterly enthralled by his beloved's beauty; the noble Elf gave him a devilish look and lowered her hand to the knot of the towel

But her actions were interrupted when she heard a cough and shifted to meet the gaze of her aunt, Shiera and Ashara, all red as rubies and undoubtedly envious of her boldness with their Wolf.

"Aunt…" Galadriel said, pouting as if she were a child while Írimë's face was red as a ruby.

"I never imagined that the most scholarly Lady of the Noldor was so…" Ashara began, not knowing what to say.

"Obscene…" Shiera added enviously, and Galadriel looked away, her face near as red as theirs. Jon laughed merrily at his dearest love's antics, and Írimë frowned.

"Are you delighted by our jealousy, Nin Mel?" Írimë asked vexedly.

"Yes, my beloved little songbird... You delight me..." Jon said, relishing his beloved Lalwen reddened at her epithet.

Then Aunt and niece smiled, now Shiera and Ashara knew they were scheming something... They had fallen into a trap set by the Noldorian Princesses, who now climbed onto Jon's bed and sat behind him.

And from her dress, the Daughter of Finarfin brought out a bottle of an unknown oil that, when opened, radiated a lovely aroma like a blend of roses, strawberries and almonds.

"This oil was created from plants and blooms tilled in Imladris by my aunt and myself; it soothes the spirit and body," Galadriel said with a smile.

"What are you scheming?" Shiera growled, but neither elf paid her any mind, wholly focused on her precious Jon.

"Lalwen?... Galadriel?" Jon questioned nervously but was surprised when he suddenly felt two pairs of soft, warm hands caress his battered body.

"Lalwen…Galadriel," Jon said, relishing the ministrations of his loves; all weariness left him and felt as if the sun welled within his chest.

"Shh… Enjoy it, my wolf… Since we returned from Dorwinion, I haven't the chance to care for you as you have me… calm yourself…." Galadriel said, undoing another knot in her beloved's back.

"And I have seldom done something so bold with you, my dragon, so forgive me and allow me to care for you..." Írimë seconded, endeavouring to free her beloved of all weariness, and at that moment, Shiera and Ashara heard the laughter of Lady Galadriel. It seems she relished their vexation and was eager to tease them.

They wouldn't lose to these knife-eared upstarts… Jon was theirs long before they even knew he existed.

"That may be true, my Ladies... But that doesn't imply we will let ourselves be beaten... Just watch, and you will learn something," Galadriel said with an affectionate smile, but her smile swiftly faded when she loosened another knot in her wolf's back.

"My Nin Mel has always been stone-hard, stubborn, but by the Valar, this is absurd…." Írimë thought, dismayed at the state of her dragon. He bore the burdens of the world upon his shoulders; nonetheless, she and her aunt endeavoured to soothe his body and spirit.

Jon had never felt so cheery; his dearest princesses laboured over his body, undoing the years of toil and hardship; it was as lying in a meadow under a clear summer sky, he was half tempted to fall asleep, but alas, there were matters to attend to so Jon lay there enjoying the caresses of his loves.

Seeing that Jon was thoroughly relaxed, Írimë and Galadriel smiled lovingly and nodded to the curiousness of Shiera and Ashara, who glimpsed the elves were now smiling in a conspiratorial manner.

"What are you scheming, my ladies?" Ashara asked though Finwë's Descendants merely smiled like cats who had got into the cream.

"Jon… can you hear me?" Galadriel asked softly.

"Yeah… Aahh," Jon answered, enjoying his double massage.

"Well… Now tell me… why did you build a forge at the peak of the White Mountains?" Galadriel asked, continuing her ministrations.

"A hidden forge?" Ashara and Shiera intoned, wholly confused by this revelation.

"Because… I desired to discover, aaahhh… the lost arts of my kin in Valyria," Jon said delightedly as Lalwen pushed gently on his neck.

"Lost Arts of Valyria?" Galadriel asked, wholly interested in the subject.

"You desire to learn how to create Valyrian Steel," Ashara said, certain of her husband's intent, but her words astonished the others, chiefly Galadriel and Írimë, who had heard mere pittance of the metal since meeting Jon.

Valyrian steel was an ilk of steel used to make weapons and other objects of incomparable beauty. If the tales were true, the Valyrians of yore made mighty spells to fashion the steel; the enchantments woven into the steel made it lighter, stronger and keener than the best steel of the outer lands. According to Jon, the blades had a remarkable pattern, and the blade would glitter with hues of grey and black.

They had also been told that the secret of fashioning the metal was lost when the Freehold fell, though now it seems their beloved hoped to rediscover the lost arts of the Dragonlords.

"Is it true, Nin Mel?" Írimë asked, continuing to undo the knots in her dearest neck.

"Yes… But I want more than that… I desire to blend the smithing techniques I learned from Vhagar with the knowledge I attained in Khazad-Dûm and from Enerdhil's books… The forge itself is far from prying eyes at the peak of Eilenaer," He said softly, still entranced by the sweet scent of the oils.

At that moment, Írimë applied more sweet-smelling oil to her hands and began to massage Jon's legs and thighs.

That was a surprise for Galadriel, Shiera and Ashara, as none among them knew Írimë was so adept in these arts.

"And how do you intend to regain the mastery of Valyria Nin Mel… As far as we all know, it was destroyed?" Írimë asked curiously.

"Vhagar… Aaahh," Jon replied.

"Your dragon?" Shiera asked, intrigued.

"She… She can… Aah… Convey to me pieces of visions of Valyria in her flames… Through those visions… I learn what I can of Valyria, however little…." Jon said especially enjoying it when Galadriel undid a particularly troublesome knot in his lower back.

Galadriel laughed gaily. "Your wishes are very ambitious, Baelon… But tell me more about the forge, you built-in secret…."

"It is only reachable by flight resting deep within a cave of Eilenaer…." Jon replied.

"And how did you prepare that place by yourself?" Írimë asked, now pressing on his right foot.

"I didn't prepare it by myself, Magni… He helped me; he sent a small retinue of Dwarves… In exchange for passing on whatever knowledge I learn… Aaahh… They… turned the cavern atop the mountains into a magnificent forge," Jon groaned, and Galadriel nodded, wholly unsurprised.

"Of course…" The Lady of Belfalas sighed, knowing that Magni had become dear friends with Jon, and like all Dwarves, Magni, Son of Thurimar, would not squander the opportunity to rediscover a lost art.

"And why didn't you inform anyone about this forge... Do you hold so little trust in us?" Galadriel angrily snarled and pressed into his back harder.

"What a foolish query... Aaah... Of course, I intended to tell you and...but I had hoped to forge you some jewellery before you had discovered my intent..." Jon said, pleasing them all immensely.

At that moment, Írimë and Galadriel resolved to conclude their massage. Jon couldn't tarry any longer, and if they had continued, their dragon would've fallen asleep.

"What was that massage?" Shiera asked, intrigued.

"An art taught by my mother Indis to my sister Findis and me, likewise taught to the wives of my brothers, Anairë and Eärwen, soothes the body and loosens the tongue… Oh, my father, he could never conceal anything from my mother for long," Írimë thought with a mischievous smile.

"It was much the same with my parents." Galadriel seconded with a smile as Ashara and Shiera silently glanced at each other in a cold sweat.

"Elves are very possessive and controlling, it seems." Shiera and Ashara thought.

At that moment, Jon stirred and seemed younger than his seventy-two years.

"I feel much better... Thank you, my loved ones..." Jon said gaily, yet this faded when he remembered that he had revealed the secrets of his forge so readily as if his beloveds had employed trickery to ensnare him.

"What sorcery did you use upon me?" Jon asked in bewilderment.

"My dragon… We were just aiding you to lessen your weariness…." Írimë replied sweetly, yet he wouldn't fall for her ruse.

"Aye, and what magic did you use?" Jon asked as Ashara and Shiera endeavoured not to laugh, earning rancorous looks from the Princesses.

"My love… We only wished to serve you and discover why you had built a forge in secret…." Galadriel said sadly

The other women were surprised that the Daughter of Finarfin would play that immature ruse on Jon and didn't think he would fall for it.

But all three had been wrong when Jon's gloomy countenance softened noticeably.

"I had no wish to conceal the truth of my forge as I've said, yet living so long among the Dwarves, I fear I've become as secretive and stubborn... but I shall endeavour to repay this slight against you, my loves..." Jon said, embracing Galadriel and kissing her with all the passion he could muster.

"Okay, that's enough", Írimë grumbled, pulling her irate niece from Jon's embrace.

After a few moments, they had composed themselves and prepared to leave.

"Well, it's time to go... My star, you and I must attend this council; there is much to say and even more to learn and perhaps when it is done, I shall set hammer to anvil and forge you some new jewellery," Jon said with a smile.

But before they could depart, Shiera and Ashara heard a yelp of surprise from the Noldorian princesses; it seemed Jon had pinched their buttocks. The two Westerosi looked at each other before erupting in a fit of giggles; all the while, Galadriel and Írimë glared at their love ruefully.

"Do you desire to perish, Nin Mel?" Írimë asked, embarrassed and furious with her dragon, but Jon just laughed wickedly.

"We are even my beloved… Now I ask you to let me change… I'm already late for the Council meeting," Jon said, enjoying the embarrassment of his lady loves, but this was swiftly quelled when he noticed Galadriels' look of displeasure.

"Do you find it very humorous to embarrass my aunt and me in such a manner, my foolish Wolf?... Should I fulfil the promise I made to you in the Sea of Rhun and strip you of your manhood?" asked the Lady of Light furiously, yet he was not cowed by her anger.

"No, my dearest Star, but you used magics to ensnare me. I was merely paying you in kind…." Jon replied, amused, then he spoke where only she could hear, " Don't try to fool me, my beloved Galadriel. I can sense you appreciated that…." and Jon felt her lust and shame.

Once Jon realised that his beloved Estrella liked to be ruled… But the fun time was over.

Jon groaned in vexation. "It's time to go…." and hurriedly resumed dressing, he thought his lady loves would shuffle out, but it seems they were content to watch him dress, their lust unabashed and rather appreciated.

The whole of the Southron Council had been summoned save Lord Earendur and Calmacil, who returned to the Havens to aid the survivors and rebuild all that could be recovered.

In attendance were Himself, his grandmother, Lords Azrubên, Hallatan, Celtegar and several lower lordlings and earls from the farthermost fiefs. However, on this occasion, he was joined by his lovers who stood at either side of his throne save for Galadriel, who sat next to his grandmother per his instructions.

"We are here, my Prince, and I have already carried out your orders; our Kings have been informed of your comings and goings; the only thing left to do is hold this meeting... Although I think you could've waited till you and your family were well again..." Lord Azrubên said.

"I'm afraid this meeting can't wait since this news must be given immediately", Jon answered.

"Very well, my Prince… what do you wish to tell us?" Azrubên, and he said it as plainly as he could.

"Umbar was destroyed… By our dragons," Jon said as his Council remained silent, though none among them seemed wholly astonished.

"They knew?" Jon asked, surprised and Lord Azrubên nodded.

"Yes, my prince, after hearing of the havens' sack, we saw three great black shapes fly away south... I ought to have known you would lay waste to the City and saw fit to inform our fellows after you told me as much upon your return," replied the old Steward 'But I suspect there is more to the story than you let on. Come! Tell us your tale.'...

'Very well,' said Jon. 'I will do as you bid. But I will now tell the true story, and if some here have heard me tell it otherwise, I shall beg their forgiveness later. Anyway, this is what happened.'

To some there, Jon's tale was wholly new, and they listened with amazement while the young prince, actually not at all displeased, recounted his adventure in the South at full length. He did not omit anything, whether the razing of the temple or the slaughter of the King's men. He would have given also an account of the battle with the Haven masters, if he had been allowed; but Lord Azrubên bid him stop.

Hearing Jon's bloody tale firsthand caused a great shock to his lovers and counsellors, who were astounded to hear of the power of the legendary Helm but were troubled by the savagery of the siege, if one could call it that.

"Our Prince's actions were most reckless," Lord Hallatan said after a moment.

"Fuinur and Herumor stole away with my aunt and grandmother, hoping to use them as a shield in one hand while the other ravages our kingdom," Jon muttered with such loathing that many recoiled in fear, but Galadriel and Ìrimë merely observed the countenance of their love and knew he was the master of his mind for the moment.

Furthermore, Galadriel realised that Rhaella was furtively watching Jon and Galadriel recalled the vision of the children that Jon will father with his lovers.

"Something else happened…." Then they comprehended that Rhaella and Jon had become lovers.

"I understand your desire to save them, but to unleash three dragons upon a city, you shall be lucky if our kin do not label you a tyrant..." Lord Celtegar began to say, but Jon stopped him.

"This matter has been settled, my Lords, the Ar-Adûnâim... They discovered the words of my House Fire and Blood; the City was razed to the ground, and the vile temple of Morgoth was reduced to ashes by the fire of Vhagar... Now it shall be Kings Isildur and Anárion who will decide the fate of those lands; I shall hear no more of this Umbar business save the bard's verse," Jon answered, vexed while the council stared at him warily.

"If it is what our Prince deems best…." The old Lord said wearily.

"It is; I shall not cower behind high walls while others plot the ruin of me and mine house, Lord Azrubên!... yet I did not summon you here to speak of Umbar; we've more pressing matters..." Jon growled.

"And what might those be, my Prince?" asked Lord Hallatan.

"Fuinur and Herumor revealed to us they had spies in this city who kept them apprised of our movements... That is how they learned Dany, and I would be journeying to Pelargir" Rhaella spoke in dismay, and the council was immediately in an uproar.

"Spies?" Lord Cemender asked with anger and disgust in his voice.

"I fear so my Lords… Our City is infested with spies; they knew our every move," Jon said grimly.

"How despicable…" Lord Hallatar muttered.

"We must find them, my Lords, before they poison us in our sleep…." Rhaenys growled; Lord Celtegar stroked his beard before speaking. "I agree… But how? We know nought their numbers nor where they may slink,"

"The spies must be among the household servants; only they were attending when we spoke of the business of Pelargir ", Rhaella growled resentfully, and Dany embraced her.

"I can aid you in finding the wrongdoers… I think that is why I was invited to this Council," Galadriel replied abruptly.

"My Lady…" Lord Azrubên said in surprise, and Jon just glanced at her with love pleasing her greatly.

"Thank you, my love; I know you must consider this task unworthy of you, but…." Jon thought, endeavouring to apologise, but he was silenced by his beloved's laughter. "No, my dearest wolf, it is a joy to aid you and even more so knowing what you and your kin endured at the hands of those spies", Galadriel answered, and his love for her grew tenfold.

"Well... before we settle the matter of these spies, I've glad tidings to share," Jon said with a mysterious smile, and Galadriel involuntarily let out a cry of happiness, knowing the reason.

All were shocked by the Lady of Light's outburst, especially Írimë, who was surprised by her niece's childish behaviour.

"Artanis?" asked Írimë, surprised.

"I think there is something that Jon should tell us all", Galadriel said, her eyes twinkling in delight, the same twinkle dwarven eyes held upon discovering a precious metal.

"My journey in the Hills of Emyn Arnen... was quite fruitful," Jon said, smiling with delight seeing the look of disbelief on the faces of his Councilors since the young Targaryen remembered very well that none of them approved of his going to those hills in the first place.

"Is it true, my Prince?..." Lord Azrubên said in a whisper.

"That's right... It was a wonderful discovery... We found a great vein of silver," Jon said happily, pleased his quest had not been in vain.

"And Many Ages hence… People of great importance to Gondor will arise from that land… I am sure… Although I would like to know more about the last three statues… A powerful and noble father as well as his two sons…." Jon thought, pondering his vision.

"It's… it's wonderful news, my Prince…." Lord Hallatan said.

"Indeed, we shall raise a fortress of stone where the mine sits, and I've been told there is such wealth as to fill a Dwarven mansion..." Jon said, smiling, and his loved ones had a particular gleam in their eyes, no doubt imagining him toiling at the forge for their desires.

"Oh, my love, that is wonderful news. I heard much at the gate, yet I did not think your fortune would be so great," The beautiful Targaryen said with a gleam of greed in her eyes, causing him to laugh heartily.

"There is no need for this, my love, although I enjoy it very much... Don't fret, a great deal of it shall be put towards our fair City and Gondor... I will make certain that some of it goes towards fulfilling your …desires, from my share, of course," Jon said regretfully while his counsellors were chortling good naturedly and his loves beamed in happiness.

Shiera smiled and kissed him eagerly; indeed, it was akin to two dragons intertwined in the heat of passion; he was convinced that if Azrubên hadn't spoken, Shiera would've made love to him in the sights of Valar and men.

"Excuse me, my Prince... But what do you intend to do with such a great horde of silver?" Lord Azrubên, to the ire of the girls who feared the old Steward, would rob them of their share, a foolish notion, but one must never misjudge a Numenoreans fondness for metals, chiefly silver.

"I shall fortify the Hills and hinterlands; another share of the treasure shall be used to rebuild the walls of Pelargir; the lion's share shall be put towards the building of many ships. We shall not yield the River unfought again," Jon replied, and the old Lord seemed pleased.

"My Prince is wise…." Lord Azrubên said, bowing.

"Thank you, my Lord… I shall need your counsel in the days ahead, but for now, I believe my dearest Dornish Lily has prepared a party of special magnificence, and it would be poor form to let such a celebration be missed," Jon said merrily. This greatly pleased Arianne, who thought her efforts had been in vain, and she swiftly embraced him.

"Come my White Wolf... I have endless delights prepared for you..." The former Princess of Dorne whispered in his ear, and Jon's blood was aflame.

Jon stood up, looked to his counsellors and called in a loud voice, "Well, then this counsel is over but heed my words companions, we must root out these spies, although the power of the Ar-Adûnâim is diminished, they may rise again.… And we must cut this rot from the vine before we are all slain..."

"This will be done, my Prince", Lord Azrubên assured.

"Well, now, my Lords, now let's celebrate..." Jon said, snaking his arm around his Dornish vipers and followed her out of the room.

The party arranged by his viper was merry; indeed, there were songs, dances, music, games, and, of course, food and drink. All the inhabitants of the City were invited, nobles, commoners, and the Dwarves of Magni were in attendance as well. They would have departed the day before, but the promise of food and drink had convinced them to stay strangely; the liveliest guest were the Elves who drank, sang and made bawdy jokes.

Rhaella enjoyed an Elven whiskey and spoke amiably to the dwarves who regaled her with tales of her grandson's heroics in the Rhovanion. She hadn't talked to him since they had returned, but she knew her grandson was staring at her, and when their eyes met, she blushed, hoping perhaps they could speak after the feast... Although their relationship would never be the same, indeed, she hoped that her grandsons' seed had taken root and she was with child.

For Jon, the party was enjoyable though he lamented the strength of the spirits since the elven wine that his beloved elves brought from Belfalas was the only thing that could cloud his mind for a few moments, yet he missed to his brothers in arms, Loras and Robar who long tarried on the North, indeed there had been a wound in his heart that wouldn't mend until he saw his brothers again.

The thought of being so long apart from them filled him with melancholy... but that was swiftly forgotten; he heard the voice of his cousin Sansa who appeared from the crowd beaming in joy.

His cousin was beautiful, wearing a gown of red satin, and about her waist was a girdle of silver inlaid with pearls and sapphires.

"Jon…" Sansa said happily, and he knew she wanted something.

"Yes, Sansa?" Jon asked.

"Sing a tune, please," Sansa said, smiling splendidly. He was surprised he hadn't thought to sing tonight, content to sit idle and enjoy the merrymaking his viper had organised for him, but when he saw his cousin's eyes glittering in mirth, Jon knew he couldn't refuse her, more so when she was joined by a gaggle of friends who likewise requested a song.

He smiled at her. "Very well… I'll ask them to bring my harp." Jon looked to the servants, who nodded and, as quick as lightning... scampered off to fetch his harp.

For several moments Jon waited for the arrival of his instrument, and when it was brought, the whole room fell silent… For they had never heard that their Prince was a bard.

When the young Targaryen glanced at his harp, he smiled, remembering his old friend … And he knew which song would be the first, Sansa's favourite.

Jon began to sing the ballad of Beren and Lúthien; many a maiden wept for the beauty of the verse, chiefly his, whose eyes were thick with teas; this was her favourite verse as the romance of Beren and Lúthien was akin to the tales of knights and princesses she had grown up with.

Finally, the song ended, and the hall thundered merrily with the cheers of the lords and elves, many entreating him to repeat the verse while some requested other sonnets of various origins.

But he chose to sing the song of Eärendil, undoubtedly his grandest piece… many listened in wonder to the words regarding the deeds of the Greatest of the Sailors of Arda. Next, he sang the melodies he had learned in Lindon and lastly, several dwarven ballads which greatly pleased his guest, with many hurray's and requests for encores.

It was then he heard Galadriel in his mind, "Are you enjoying yourself, my Wild Wolf?" and this gladdened him; his beloved spoke to none in this way save himself, and he replied happily. 'Aye, my love, this party is truly a delight… Ari has a gift for arranging celebrations….".

Galadriel laughed merrily. "True; however, you've made this evening far grander. It's been far too long since I've heard your voice, my love and the evening is far richer for it."

Now we are together again, my love, and we shall not be parted again; every day apart felt as an Age of this world.

He smiled. "I know, my love, it's been long months without Lalwen and yourself… But now both of you are here… And with all of you with me… I couldn't be gladder… I feel complete."

"I'm glad to hear it; now I shall give you something…." Galadriel said gailey.

"What is it?" Jon asked curiously.

"Our gift for our engagement… Galadriel said happily, "Look behind you."

And he did so, leaving his harp in the hands of a servant and rising from his seat when he gazed upon his beloved Jon's heart welled in a furious passion.

Galadriel was clad in a raiment of purest white was overlaid with a tracery of flowers and leaves wrought of silver and gold and upon her head was a crown of silver.

"This was my mother's dress for festivals of Alqualondë, although she wears a crown made of swan feathers... Hence her title..." Galadriel said happily, recalling the beauty of her dear mother.

"Is this how your mother ensnared your father, my love?" He japed, and he then felt the sting of her magics upon his mind; undoubtedly, she wasn't amused.

For the briefest moment, she frowned. "Don't be a brute, Jon… or we won't share the bed…." Galadriel said, vexed with her love, yet she still offered her arm, and he took it with a smile, pleased to have her so close again.

"We'll see how greatly you defy me, beloved... You shall surrender ere the Sun rises..." Jon growled, and he felt the fire of passion consume her; she looked to him again and smiled evilly.

"You are bold, my Wolf... Perhaps this will teach you good manners," Galadriel said, swiftly leading him to the dance floor.

Jon grumbled, knowing he had lost this fight… Galadriel knew how much he hated dancing, yet refusing the daughter of the High King would've been a grave insult none could compare.

Jon could sense the look of anger and envy of the rest of his loved ones, and the young Targaryen groaned as he imagined what awaited him. There was only one thing to do to appease their outrage… he would have to dance with each in turn.

Jon and Galadriel were the chief pair in the Great Hall, and though he disliked dancing, he could sense the happiness of his beloved as they waltzed to and fro, their hearts beating as one.

But soon, the song ended, and Galadriel parted from him; she was quickly replaced by Rhaenys; then when their dance ended, Sansa followed, then Arya, Ashara, Shiera, Daenerys and lastly Arianne.

Each of those his lady loves wore their jewels and glittered as the stars, no doubt pleased to show the maidens of the City to whom his heart was given to still Jon hadn't wished to rouse the ire of his subjects, but perhaps this was for the best he'd prefer a horde of dragon's than his love displeased.

After many merry dances and several toasts in his honour, the festivities began to die down though Jon sensed his dearest Lawlen was drawing near no doubt to ask for a dance as they hadn't seen each other much during the celebrations.

Arianne spied her first a vision of splendour; his lawlen was clad in a dress of black satin with golden flowers sewn into the bodice, and around her neck, the necklace of maltagil shone like the Sun cresting over the embers of a dying flame and as she drew near Arianne tightened her hold around him.

Lalwen merely arched an elegant eyebrow and offered her hand to him and smiled; although Arianne's countenance turned sour, she knew Írimë wouldn't be denied, so with a heavy heart, she kissed him and allowed him to dance with the Daughter of Finwë.

And so Jon began to give his last dance that night.

"What's wrong, Nin Mel?... You look tense..." Lalwen said, no doubt amused by his mood.

"I don't like to dance... I'm remarkably sullen," Jon murmured.

"But you danced so well tonight..." Lalwen said, laughing at her lover.

"Lalwen… I do it because I know it makes them cheerful… But I don't enjoy it… Seeing you smile, though… It makes it worth it," Jon said amusedly.

"Oh, my noble dragon..." Írimë said, reddening and then she kissed him happily, causing the hall to erupt in murmurs.

"Now your kin and mine will know about us… My beloved ray of sunshine," Jon said lovingly.

"Nin Mel…" Said the Princess of the Noldor, reddening at her sobriquet

"Well, it's not like we hid it," Jon said with a laugh.

"I think not… Oh, my Nin Mel, how I longed to be in your arms," Írimë said, burying her face in his chest. He smiled; it was wonderful to hold her close after so long apart.

"Let's enjoy this song, my love... I'm weary... I didn't desire to sing nor dance so much," Jon said, bringing his face close to Lalwen's golden tresses; she smelled of honeysuckle and wildflowers.

"I know, although I feel beholden to your cousin... It's been too long since I heard you sing..." Írimë said, pleased. "You must sing more frequently, my silly dragon."

"Yes, Galadriel told me something similar," Jon said, relishing Lalwen's closeness greatly.

She gazed at him and smiled. "My niece hold's your voice in highest regard, my dragon."

They continued to dance until the bards had ceased their song. Then, finally, Jon bid the guest enjoy the festivities and drink as he wished to retire for the evening; entering his chambers, he instructed the maid to prepare a bath and began disrobing, eager to rest; tomorrow would be a harrowing day as they sought to root out the spies, and hopefully unravel their plots.

After the bath, Jon strolled into his chambers and saw his beloved sitting on his bed; she wore a gown of thin silk, and next to her sat an oaken box.

"Galadriel…" Jon said, surprised.

"Hello, my Wolf, did you think you could escape from me so easily?" The Lady of Light asked, amused.

"Of course not, my Star, but I thought you might want to enjoy the party," he said, bewildered, but she merely giggled happily.

"Not my silly Wolf, the party that Arianne prepared was splendid, but I have little interest in attending if you are not there… But let us speak no more of parties and merriment, now I want to give you something… Something that has been in my keeping ere Eregion fell," Galadriel said, overcome with joy.

And Jon, keen, slowly opened the box…

Inside lay a remarkable stone of a clear green, set in a silver brooch that was wrought in the likeness of an eagle with outspread wings; and as he held it up, the gem flashed like the sun shining through the leaves of spring.

"It is a gift given to me by my relative Celembridor before forging the Rings of Power in the first centuries of this Age, the name of the gem is Elessar or Elfstone. " Galadriel said happily, taking the stone, placing it in Jon's hand and kissing her beloved with all the passion she could muster.

"The Elessar Stone..." Jon muttered; upon touching the stone, it seemed that many years of toil had fallen from his shoulders.

"Although compared to the Silmaril, this may not be a great gift..." Galadriel began to say, but Jon silenced her with a fierce kiss.

"Don't say that again, my beloved Star... Any gift from you is more valuable to me than the gems of the earth..." Jon answered, kissing Galadriel's forehead, who only smiled and blushed like a maiden in love.

"Now… perhaps we should sleep?" Jon asked, but to his surprise, she shook her head and put a finger to her lips.

"It's a splendid idea... But before we can rest, we are expecting company," Galadriel said mischievously.

"Who?" Jon asked, but at that moment, he heard the door to his chambers open, and Írimë waltzed in; much like Galadriel, she wore a gown of silk, the sight of his beloved filled him with delight though he hadn't expected her.

"Hello, Nin Mel…" Lalwen said seductively, her emerald eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Lalwen," Jon said, surprised.

"Are you surprised to see us in your chambers, Nin Mel? You should have known that sooner or later, we would share a bed," Said the beautiful elf innocently.

"Lalwen…" Jon started to say but was suddenly thrown onto the bed by a giggling Galadriel.

"Don't worry, my beloved Wolf… Tonight we won't ask you to fulfil your husbandly obligations; we know you are weary from your travels and Arianne's party; we will let you sleep…." Galadriel said in a honeyed manner, and Jon swallowed hard.

"And we will take care of you while you sleep…." Lalwen said though he glimpsed that she was deeply flushed and even embarrassed.

And Jon didn't take long to understand why, unlike her niece, his dearest was rather prudish akin to Sansa, and though she had hoped to share a bed with him and Galadriel, the act of doing so was another matter altogether.

Nevertheless, she lay beside him, and he was soon enraptured by Írimë's wondrous perfume; it felt as if he had drunk a heady spirit, and his mind was clouded.

"Lalwen… How…" Jon tried to say as he listened to his lover's laugh.

"Sshhh, Jon, Jon, Jon… my dearest Nin Mel, you are within my grasp," Lalwen replied, kissing him again.

"It's "our hands" dear aunt, our wolf is in "our hands"..." Galadriel said, kissing him as passionately as her aunt.

Although they had made peace by allying against their lover's mortal concubines, there was still some jealousy and rivalry between them.

"It seems I need a larger bed", Jon said, feeling sleep claiming him.

"Yes, you should, my Wolf… know that neither of us shall sleep alone again; we will always be by your side… And after tonight, we won't be the only ones to share your bed…." Though she said this with joy, Jon could hear a tinge of bitterness in her tone; it seems their rivalries with his family shall endure by the Valar. It was troublesome, but all good love is.

"But tonight, you are only for us, my dragon Rhaenys, and the others shall not trouble us... our guards shall keep them occupied, and I may have placed a rune of locking upon the door," Írimë said, kissing once more before falling asleep.

Jon was going to question what Lalwen meant by occupied, yet his weariness was too great, and he too fell asleep to the sounds of his beloved Star singing.

Jon didn't know how long he had slept; all he knew was that he had been roused by someone hammering at the door.

Írimë and Galadriel awoke with a start and wondered what in the devil was going on, but he hadn't the slightest clue. Jon thought it might be Rhaenys come to throw the girls out, so he angrily hurried towards the door and flung it open ready to tell her off, but it wasn't Rhaenys; indeed, it was none of his kin.

Before him stood three guards of his own household and two Elves who had accompanied Írimë and Galadriel; they were all clad in armour and looked at him warily.

"What is your purpose?" Jon asked, troubled that his and his love's respite was ruined.

"We are sorry to wake you, my Prince… But there is something you must see," Said one of his guards.

"What is it about?" Jon asked, soughing in vexation.

The Elven guard strode forward, bowed low, and then spoke, "One of our men arrested five men coming out of the tower... At first, he thought they were thieves, but then he heard them mutter in the old Adûnaic tongue, and none have uttered that cursed speech ere Numenor fell." Then his companion stepped forward. "We roused the Lord Azrubên who ordered us to seize all their possessions… We are certain they are spies as they carried gold minted in Umbar on their person,"

Instantly Jon's face harshened, and he growled, compelling the guards to recoil in fright.

"I'll be right there… Wake up the rest of the Council… Including my grandmother," Jon ordered.

"As my Prince orders…." Another of his guards said.

"I will go and rouse Lady Galadriel, also Lady Írimë…." The elven guard said, and Jon turned white.

"There's no need… I'll take care of it, Ser… I know very well I can't order you, but maybe it's better if you go with your men in case you find any more spies trying to escape…." Jon said, labouring to stem his rage.

The elf guard watched him in silence for a few moments and nodded, following after his companions, no doubt going to rouse the others.

"By the Valar, that was close," Jon thought, latching the door.

"Indeed, my Wolf…" said Galadriel amusedly.

"This is a disgrace", A drowsy Írimë complained.

"I know, but it seems that fortune smiles on us… It appears that the rats have fled their holes…." Jon said, growling.

"We'll accompany you, but you must control your temper," Galadriel said worriedly.

"I know… Our idyllic night's sleep was interrupted…." Jon cursed.

"I know Nin Mel, Artanis, and I are of the same mind... you have a duty to these people," Írimë said earnestly, and he nodded.

Soon the members of the council were summoned to the Great Hall; the guards had even roused his loved ones who ambled wearily into the halls, all wrapped in cloaks of silk or fur, hoping to conceal their night shifts.

In the great hall where there had been a wonderful party just a few hours before, there sat five men clapped in irons; each was beaten and bruised, no doubt putting up a struggle when caught, and he knew them.

One of them had gone with him to Emyn Arnen. What was he doing with them? And as for the others, Jon was sure that he had seen them on occasion in the tower in some cases when leaving Council meetings... He had never paid them any notice... But now they stood before him; Jon could discern their hearts marred by a shadow most foul.

"Jon, what's wrong?" Arianne asked, approaching him.

"Ari, I think we found our spies…." Jon said evilly and gave Galadriel a silent look… She gave no answer, but she need nought her blue eyes turned hard as iron.

Hearing the word spies, Daenerys approached them with anger and hatred in her eyes and struck one hard across the face.

"You were the ones who told those damned that my mother and I would be in the Ports of Pelargir?... ANSWER!" Cried Daenerys.

But that man said nought, merely smiling before spitting a gob of bloody phlegm at his aunt's feet.

Rhaenys stepped forward to strike the fool again, but he stayed her hand, much to his sister's ire.

"Why are you stopping me, Brother?" Rhaenys asked, bewildered, but he did not answer, and without uttering a word, he seized the spy by his neck and, with a swift movement, turned his head to the side but so heavy was the blow that the spies neck was broken and he fell to the astonishment of those gathered.

None uttered a word looking at him, shocked by his act, but cared little for the ire... No slight against his family, especially one so grievous, would be endured; seeing what had happened to their companion, they began to tremble and cry dark prayers, and even the elves recoiled in fear of him.

"Jon, but what?..." A shocked Rhaella said, covering her mouth in shock.

"Not now, Grandmother..." Jon said

"That was not needed, my Prince... How may we divulge the secrets of a dead man" Lord Azrubên said, sweating coldly in a tone of reproach.

"He would not have said anything, my Lord; this man spat at Daenerys's feet... Doubtless, he cared little if he lived or died, and I will not tolerate such a slight against me or my kin... Now lets us deal with the others; perhaps their tongues have loosened..." Jon growled, still riled by these upstarts and their cruel hearts.

For Galadriel and Írimë, the knowledge that their beloved would defend them and their honour filled them with great joy… yet his temper had frightened them greatly…they had learned their beloved's wrath was a terrible thing to behold akin to Caranthir.

"Clearly, they are not of the Faithful, and the coins of Umbar clearly put them in a compromising position, not to mention that Lady Galadriel's guards caught them speaking a tongue long dead and only uttered by servants of evil in these days, I'll only ask you once... Are you King's Men?" Jon asked, looking at them so intently that it seemed that he would pierce them with his gaze, and they nodded in fear.

"We are…" Another of them said, sighing trying to behave with dignity, but the fear in his eyes was palpable.

"Since when are they passing information...?" Lord Hallatar asked.

"Since long before the Fall of Númenor… Since the days of Ar-Gimilzôr," Said another of the captives,

"How?" asked Lord Azrubên in shock.

"When the Faithful were forced to go live in Rómenna, Ar-Gimilzôr ordered our families to go live among you to watch over them and report your comings and going, then we fulfilled our mission with his son Gimilkhâd and later with his son Ar- Pharazôn, our family has watched over the sons of Elendil since the Fall of Númenor… Paying obeisance to the Lords of Umbar… The true sons of Númenor and heirs of Ar-Pharazôn.." The third muttered proudly.

The anger of the Gondorians was terrible to behold; they jeered and cursed the spies, yet it was Shiera who spoke first. "You are nothing more than ingrates who turned from the light of Eru and embraced the darkness", Shiera screamed angrily; his silver dragon was embittered by rage, no doubt as these fools played a part in the destruction of their people.

In the end, Ashara embraced her hoping to calm Shiera. It was then he remembered one of the captives.

"I know you…." Jon said, suddenly startling everyone.

"Jon?" Ashara said, approaching her love.

"You went to Emyn Arnen with me, and you were there when we found the first silver veins…." Jon said.

"The person you left in charge... Sûlchanar sent me to spread the news of your discovery... Only my endeavour wasn't fruitful..." That traitor said with a nervous smile.

"He knows he is doomed… It is only the value of a cornered animal…." They all concluded.

"How long have you infested this city, I wonder?" Lord Azrubên asked angrily.

"Since the battle of Isengard... Half a century ago..." The same man answered, and his companions looked at him with disgust; it seems there is no honour among the King's Men.

"You informed Fuinur and Herumor that my daughter and I were going to the Havens of Pelargir?" Rhaella growled indignantly.

Indignation that swiftly turned to anger when they smiled evilly, seemingly pleased by her suffering

Rhaella lost her composure and, with a cry of rage, hurled herself at the man and furiously clawed at his eyes, weeping all the while, remembering what she and her daughter had been through in Umbar.

In the end, Jon gently took Rhaella by her shoulders and led her away.

"Enough, grandmother… Enough… Don't let these wretches see you in this state; you are a dragon… They must look at you with fear and reverence, not mockery," Jon said somberly, hoping to calm his grandmother, who cried into his tunic.

"What is to become of us?" asked the black Numenorean who had been injured by Rhaella.

"You shall be tried for your crimes and die," Jon replied without hesitation.

"Nin Mel..." Írimë said, surprised by Jon's character.

"We have families…" another black Numenorean replied, and Jon grunted in annoyance.

"You fool cared little for them when you swore yourselves to the Dark Tower...How many have perished for your treachery?" Rhaenys growled, and Dany supported her. "How many mothers, sons and daughters were taken from the Havens taken as slaves for your Southron servants."

"That was not their fate…." Galadriel said coldly, and they looked at her curiously.

"My lady?" Jon asked, feeling the rage of his beloved.

"Those women and children who were captured... They were sacrifices... To the Great Enemy," Galadriel said, and soon all light and joy were gone.

Hardly had the Lady of Light said those words, then all the fear and shock at Jon's fierce efforts were forgotten, and all looked at Ar-Adûnâim with disgust.

"Blasphemy..." An Elf snarled, brandishing his sword, but his companion stopped him.

Then a second Elf sprang forward and drew a dagger of silver. "My Lady, I beg your permission to execute these turncoats."

"That is not for us to decide. We are merely guests in the halls," Galadriel said, glancing at Jon.

"They will all be executed hereafter... But, until then, clap them in irons and throw them in the dungeon..." Jon answered.

"And our families?" one of them asked.

"provided they were ignorant of your treachery, No harm shall come to them… But your families will dwell here no longer… they shall be given a horse and allowed to take what provisions they wish, but Gondor shall never welcome them again." Jon replied.

"My Prince..." Lord Hallatan said, surprised by this generosity.

"Despite what you have just seen… I am not a terror, nor do I punish children for their father's crimes; my Lord, the families of these men, shall depart from Osgiliath after the executions are carried out, provided their blamelessness can be proven. This is the word of your Prince, and you shall hearken to it," Jon said in a solemn and implacable tone.

"As you command…." Lord Hallatan said, bowing.

"Somebody clean this up..." Jon said, pointing to the corpse crumpled on the floor.

"I will order some servants to take care of my Prince…." Lord Azrubên said.

"Well… Now, if there are no more matters to attend… Perhaps we should rest... I have to carry out an execution tomorrow and perhaps more thereafter," Jon said, as the King's men cowered in fear.

He then spied Rhaella's leaving and moved to stop her. "Grandmother…." she stopped and turned to face him; her eyes were red and teary. "Yes, Baelon?" Rhaella asked fearfully.

"Let me walk you to your chambers... I have to talk to you for a moment... And it can't wait," Jon said wearily, and Rhaella, though weary from the trial and yearning for rest, smiled and nodded it was best they speak of what happened. Naturally, their closeness aroused the curiosity of the remaining guest.

What should Jon and his grandmother talk about? And why couldn't he wait?

The only one who knew about it was Daenerys, and although she was worried about what might happen, the Dragon Princess chose to keep what happened between Jon and her mother a secret.

"Thank you very much. Now, let us retire for the evening," Jon said.

"My guards will escort these men to the dungeons and watch them until their execution…?" Galadriel said, and her guards nodded.

He smiled at his beloved. "Thank you for your help, my Lady, and now by the Valar, let's all go to sleep, tomorrow shall be difficult, and we will need our strength."

After that horrible business was over, Jon led his grandmother back to her chambers and latched the doors.

"Grandmother I…" Jon tried to say nervously, but Rhaella raised her hand, silencing him.

"Jon... I know some of you believed what we did was wrong, but I feel no regret for our actions; we are dragons, my boy... and dragons do not mate with lesser creatures," Rhaella said lustfully.

She embraced him and growled pleasurably, no doubt pleased by his odour.

"Grandmother?" Jon asked, confused by her actions.

Yet, she looked at him and smiled. "Oh, Baelon… I'm afraid it's changed between us…."

"What will happen between us now?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"What do you expect to happen?" Rhaella asked happily; she had enjoyed that night greatly; indeed, she had felt a connection with Jon since they had met so long ago.

Indeed, She found him bothersome during the first years of knowing him; after all, forcing her and her remaining family to follow him on a wild goose chase was rather rude, but when she found out that he was her grandson... it was as if the spirit of the Valyrian gods mastered her begging her to claim Jon as her own yet a marriage such as this was rather queer even among Valyrians.

The last marriage between Valyrians of such close relations had occurred centuries before the Doom… Since then, it was considered exceptional and bordering the lines of what their ancestors called blasphemies, though the list of blasphemies to Vlayrians was small.

However, she continued her life with him and the rest of her family, learning from the Eldar and later from the Dunedain, yet the weight of Ages burdened her, and Rhaella knew she wouldn't live to see her children grow old though Jon saved them once again treating with the Lord of Arda granting them long life she felt young, strong, and vigorous again… like a maiden freshly flowered.

And that had proven a blessing and a curse courted by nobles and princes, even young knights... She had no desire to marry again; Aerys had taken it upon himself to blacken her heart and sour her on love.

But the carnal desire for her grandson… It was there though she had never thought to act upon it until that night Jon had claimed her as a conqueror does his queen; she remembered his passion, his tenderness... the seed of her grandson filling her womb.

And the sinful desire to bear his child… Rhaella knew she desired to be by her grandson's side as his lover, his confidant and gods willing, perhaps his queen... She had known since this exchange began.

"Grandma..." Jon said, eyeing her warily; she smiled before pushing him onto the bed claiming his lips in a searing kiss and clawing at his tunic, eager to free him from his garments.

"Silence Jon…" Rhaella said with a slight smile.

"I didn't think you wanted to continue..."

"Neither do I… But I have an appetite for youthful flesh, chiefly yours," Rhaella said, tearing at his tunic and peppering his chest with kisses.

"What if they discover us?" Jon asked, starting to undo the knots in Rhaella's nightgown.

"I care not, my dearest Jon. Remember my boy, we are Dragons and answer to neither gods nor men; I do not plan to walk away from you… Flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood… Not even our loved ones." Rhaella said, revealing her bosom, and he pawed at them softly.

"Aye fuck it… let us be consumed by Fire and Blood…." Jon said, enjoying his grandmother's loving embrace

"At least we'll be together," Rhaella said, smiling tenderly and then Jon entered her, and thus they made love wholly consumed by their passions... She cared little if the Princesses of the Noldor desired him in their beds or even Rhaenys and the others hoped to have him.

This night Jon was hers.

The next day…

All of Osgiliath was gathered in the centre of the City to witness the execution of the King's Men... They were to be beheaded by their own Prince for the crime of high treason, and word swiftly spread that these men were servants of the Dark Tower.

All the Council of Osgiliath and even Galadriel and Írimë protested about it, arguing that their Prince should not go to such trouble when there were executioners who could do it. However, Jon would not be denied this, settling the matter.

So he came forth clad in robes of blue, upon his brow shone the pearl of Ulmo and upon his breast was the Elfstone in that hour he appeared as one of the Mighty of the West, and fit to be the father of the kings of the Kings of Men beyond the Sea. At that moment, Jon drew Ringil from its golden scabbard, and it went up like a flame in the morning sun; many were overwhelmed or wept at the beauty of the blade, yet not all were pleased.

"I don't understand how our Prince can use the Great King's sword for such a purpose..." Lord Azrubên said unsettled, and many elves and men nodded in agreement save Sansa and Arya, who looked wholly displeased, and many knew the reason.

None had thought to rouse them when the spies were discovered, so the next day, when the identity of the spies was divulged and the executions announced, Sansa and Arya were furious with him for leaving them out... again, indeed, his cousins had spent the better part of the morning badgering him to never shut them out, and he begrudgingly agreed if only for the peace and quiet.

So there stood two wolves wholly vexed by the predicament, Sansa clad in a dress of blue silk while her sister thought to wear her leathers; many Elves and even a few dwarves approached them and offered to escort them away, but each was declined by Sansa saying. "It's the old way,"

"The Old Way?" Lady Írimë asked, curious, but she soon understood that this was not the time to ask questions.

At that moment, Jon brandished Ringil with both hands, and only those of keenest hearing could discern his words.

"In the name of Elendil King of all the Dúnedain, King of Arnor, King of Gondor, King of the North and South Kingdoms, Lord of Arnor and Gondor, and his sons Isildur and Anárion Kings of Gondor... I, Prince Jon of the Houses Targaryen and Stark... Sentance you to die; if you have any last words, say them now..." He said solemnly

Sansa and Arya, for a moment, thought that Jon was their father wielding Ice, though he stood taller and more kingly than he. But, alas, the memory of their father brought tears to their eyes despite the passing of many winters.

At that moment, all the bravery those men had shown the night before was shattered, and they began to beg for their lives, swearing that they would faithfully serve Elendil and his heirs until the end of their days.

"That end has hastened for your treachery fools!… It will be easier if you stay put. If you move, you will die anyway, but Ghost shall be a far crueller headsman than I; you had better stretch your necks, my lords…." Jon said, and he seemed to grow tall and menacing;

For a few moments, a deathly silence could be noticed throughout the City; not even the song of birds or the rushing of water was heard.

At last, He stepped down from the scaffold and ordered his men to put the traitors' heads on pikes and leave the corpses to the ravens, and they nodded. He then saw his family and councillors, who looked wholly displeased by the events.

"You are dissatisfied then?…." Jon asked vexedly.

"Yes, my Prince, I don't think this task was worthy of you, let alone using the Great King's weapon…." Lord Azrubên said, irritated.

Jon looked at him and growled, "By judgment of the Valar, this sword now belongs to me and as for my decision to execute them myself… In the North of Westeros, where the blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

And Galadriel, overcoming those feelings, silently entered the mind of her beloved to discover that her uncle Eddard Stark took Jon, his cousin Robb, who were small children, and another young man named Theon Greyjoy to witness the execution of a group of people who crossed The Wall and as Lord Eddard executed those men in the same way that her beloved Wolf had done.

"It seems some men of Westeros have honour; I would have liked to have met Lord Stark..." Galadriel thought mournfully, yet she felt that her beloved was too young to have witnessed such things; still, there was little she could do about it.

"A... Remarkable lesson, my Prince..." Lord Azrubên said, still overwhelmed.

"My uncle once told me that if you are going to take a man's life, you have a duty to him, and that is to look him in the eye and listen to his last words. If you can't stand that, my Lord Azrubên, maybe that man doesn't deserve to die," Jon said gravely, and many cheered, understanding the wisdom of Lord Stark.

"You Northerners and your honour…." Ashara grumbled.

"Your uncle was a stern man, my Wolf…." Arianne said, timid, and he nodded.

"Yes, and loving too, I thought myself a Lord of Winter when I was a boy and perhaps one day, despite my last name, I would bear the banner of Winter graciously, and when that time came, I would see Justice done as well I knew it wouldn't be pleasant, but I shouldn't look away or give up my duty. The ruler who hides behind hired executioners soon forgets what death is," Jon said, wiping the blood from Ringil's blade.

"Wise words," Lady Galadriel said with a smile.

"Thank you, my Lady... Now it seems to me that we should continue with my discovery in Emyn Arnen; I want that town completed in two years and start extracting the silver immediately..." Jon said, glimpsing the countenance of his loves brighten at the mention of the Silver Horde.

"Will you return to your forge soon, my love?..." Galadriel asked, eager to learn new things, and Jon nodded. "In a week, my Star…."

Galadriel smiled. "And will you let me go with you?"

"Yes, if you shan't cause a fuss and do not hinder me when I wish to smoke…." Jon replied, having the pleasure of finally charging Galadriel for all the times she forced him to quit smoking.

Her mood quickly soured. "Jon!"

And so life went on much as it had done for Jon and his companions, one of peace and comfort until the Dark Lord roused his armies for the Great Battle of the Age.

Tirion upon Túna, Valinor...

On the eve of twilight, the council was called, the sun had lain down its burden, and the moon rose high, blanketing the city in a silvery glow.

The chiefest of the Noldor had gathered to hear the news of their King; indeed, it was rather rousing as Finarfin, alongside Elwë and Olwë, had been summoned to the Taniquetil by Manwë to tell of the happenings in Middle-Earth.

Shortly the Elves of many houses hurried into the council chambers, some arguing over seating, keen to sit near their relations, others quite the opposite truthfully; one might think it some great party eventually, after some hours, the last Elf had shuffled into the halls and the silvered doors were shut.

Arafinwë gazed at his numerous kin and smiled, welcoming them as honoured guests. "Kin of distant houses and friends of old, I welcome you now to my halls bearing glad tidings yet grim news also…." Arafinwë said softly.

"What happened, husband?" Eärwen asked, clasping her husband's hand.

"The elder King summoned me to his abode together with your father, his wife and my mother's uncle, the Great King Ingwë, to proclaim that the mortal who aided Kanafinwë to return to Aman...has wedded my sister Írien," Arafinwë said bitterly, and soon the hall erupted in murmurs and hushed exchanges.

Many of the Noldor knew of this Jon Snow...A mortal the Valar had called from unknown lands far to the East to be the instrument of their will in this age... it was altogether queer to the Noldor as the Valar hadn't taken such keen interest in the affairs of men since Tuor.

Findis was shocked and turned to face her brother. 'How was that possible, brother? surely our sister would not bind herself to a man, much less one of lesser blood than herself.'

'A rather strange affair, dear sister,' answered her brother wearily. 'It seems Lalwendë had fallen in love with the mortal ere they departed Tol Morwen, and they plighted their troth some years ago.'

Findis glowered and looked to her mother, whose countenance eerily matched her own; indeed, her mother gripped the silvered throne so mightily that the wood had begun to splinter; Her mother wished her and Lalwendë to wed the Vanyars to bring the two clans together, so she conveyed the idea to her husband, although her first attempts were frustrated by Curufinwë, who preferred an alliance with the Teleri. Still, Findis believed that her half-brother only wished to thwart their mother by persuading their father to bargain a betrothal between Lalwendë and Vaethalas.

Although this was no better...

Twice before had there been a union of the Eldar and the Edain; now, her silly sister had fallen into that trap…Her mortal lover would die, whether by the sword or the slow decay of time. And there will be no comfort for her. No comfort to ease the pain of his passing.

'Oh, Lalwen, my sweet and reckless sister…Did you have to give your love to a fellow of that weak and untrustworthy race? … Did you not think of us? … Mother and me…But most of all yourself….' Findis thought grimly. Alas, her sister's heart wasn't easily given.

When Vaethalas broke their betrothal, Lalwendë was heartbroken; worse still, when she returned from her long exile and discovered her beloved had married one of the maidens of King Ingwë's court. And now she had impulsively wed one of the Edain; perhaps she hoped to rouse Vaethalas jealously, surely, she couldn't desire such a union.

"I would like to meet the young man of my race who achieved that feat..." Tuor said heartily, something many of the Elves could understand, Tuor alone of Men was counted among the Eldar, immortal as other Elves; seldom had he met his kin among the men save the swarthy men who served The Great Enemy so long ago.

Idril stood by her husband and clasped his hands in hers with a loving smile, joyful that her husband might have an ally among his father's kindred, yet neither perceived her mother's ire.

"Is that all the Valar told you, uncle?" Findekáno questioned curiously, and Arafinwë gently shook his head. 'No, I'm afraid not, nephew...The Valar have given us dire news the fires of the Mountain are wakened again, and the shadow has grown in malice, and I fear the horns of war shall sound soon...'

A feeling of apprehension and bitterness ran through the entire room as they feared that another bloody war against another Dark Lord was approaching.

"Do the Valar expect us to march to the aid of the Peoples of Middle-earth again?" Indis questioned, speaking for the first time, though the bitterness of her countenance was plain for all to see; indeed, since Lalwendë's departure, her mother smiled little and seldom spoke unless in the presence of her brother and grandchildren.

Findis believed that her mother would only be pleased when Lalwendë and Ñolofinwë returned, although none among them expected her to return anytime soon.

Arafinwë looked at his mother for a moment and then spoke, "No, mother, they will not ask us to go to war; they have revealed to me that Eru has forbidden us to return to Middle-earth since the betrayal of the Numenoreans, no... The Valar trust in the strength of men to cast down the Dark Lord,"

"Have the Valar told you anything, Father?" Findaráto asked curiously.

Arafinwë looked at his son and smiled; there was a strange gleam in his eye that many glimpsed. 'The mortal who has taken my sister as his wife and helped my nephew return to us; the Valar have seen fit to reveal his lineage to me.'

"His lineage?" Asked his mother; Indis startled.

"Yes, since he now belongs to the House of Finwë by marriage…They saw fit to tell me …He, along with his companions and kin, were summoned from lands far away to the east of Arda, lands we only knew in legend and suppositions… They come from a place called Westeros." Arafinwë said gaily.

And the hall once more erupted in conversation; they had never heard of a land called Westeros...And the Elves could scarcely hide their excitement, for the love of the sea was ever in the hearts.

"So what news did the Valar share, husband?" Eärwen asked, full of curiosity, and her husband merely smiled.

"Those lands are free from the evil creatures of the Great Enemy, but their peoples have fallen far from the light of the Valar and Ilúvatar and have adopted many false gods. Four continents have remained far to the east since the changing of the world... Essos, Sothoyros, Ulthos and Westeros, the latter being the closest to Middle-earth..." Said Aranfinwë recounting everything the Valar told him and to the other Kings.

'So my sister has taken up with a savage from these outer lands….' Findis thought with disdain imagining her sister's husband as some brute.

Her brother then recounted all he had learned from the Valar, it seems Lord Ulmo, seeing how some of the men had been deceived and later enslaved by the Great Enemy, managed to persuade his brothers and sisters to take those tribes who had not fallen under the Shadow to those faraway lands where they might live in peace, and this worked for a time. Until those men, the enemy had befouled, learned the art of sailing and reached those far shores, enslaving them and spreading the evil of the Great Enemy.

It seems the Valar had created a barrier around Middle-earth and Aman to prevent any evil creature created by Melkor from reaching those lands, although this meant the seasons of those lands lasted many years rather than months.

All the Noldor listened in fascination; they had never imagined that Arda was such a vast world... Although that raised added questions, why have the Valar involved themselves so intently in the affairs of Middle-Earth, and would they wish to govern the outer lands as well?

"What do the Valar expect of those men who have long turned away from the light of Valinor?" Itarillë asked in a softly.

Arafinwë smiled. 'The Valar believe this Jon snow to be valiant of the Edain of old perhaps they believe these Westerosi shall learn from him and return to the Light of Valinor though they said no more on the matter, and I hadn't thought to press the issue...'

"They expect much from those Atani…." Findekáno said before reaching into his tunic and pulling out a long-stemmed silver pipe Findis glared at him, but he cared little and struck a match, and the hall was soon filled with smoke rings.

"Yes, and for this reason, they were provided mighty gifts, Tarambolaika, one of the Rings of Power forged by Telperinquar and my brother's sword, Ringil," Arafinwë said in a whisper; soon, the hall was filled with a cacophony of voices.

And Findis went white the Valar had given a mortal Ringil? The weapon of the High King was in the hands of an Atani.

"It is splendid news that they have rescued my old axe..." Tuor said, heartily pleased that his old axe would once more hew the necks of Orcs rather than rust at the bottom of the sea.

Arafinwë smiled at his friend "Verily Tuor... But that's not all; Lord Ulmo gave my sister's husband a conch that may be used to summon him should Jon require his aid,"

They all looked at Tuor, who was rather speechless… Of mortal men, he alone had spoken to the Valar yet; he wasn't so blessed to have the Lord of Waters as an advisor.

"That man who has married my sister, Jon Snow...Although that is not the name of his birth...And the Valar did not believe it reasonable to divulge it to us...But through many lives of men, he is kin to us harbouring the blood of the Three Peoples of the Noldor and the Three Houses of the Edain, as well as that of Melian, while fathers kin were among those who rode dragons as mounts," Arafinwë said solemnly.

Immediately Findaráto, Tuor, Findekáno and Angaráto rose from their chairs, and it was Findaráto who spoke first, 'How can men have such power?' Demanded Findaráto incredulously lamenting the battles of the Dagor Bragollach and the Nirmand Arnoediad.

Woe untold would be undone had they possessed the might to tame the dragons of the Great Enemy.

"Are you sure, my son?" Indis asked, astonished to learn that her daughter's husband was her descendant and possessed great power, a power unknown to them.

"Yes, mother, Lord Ulmo, spoke honestly; indeed, it is for the grace of the One Above All that Jon shall endure as long as Elros himself," Arafinwë said with an impenetrable countenance, furthering their interest in the young man and his companions.

"It seems that there is power and nobility in that young mortal..." Findaráto said after a moment.

"Perhaps the children that my sister and her husband will have... They will inherit that ancient and unknown magic," Arafinwë said.

Findis, for her part, decided to remain silent for the rest of the meeting, listening carefully to her brother's words...She had little love for men since the betrayal of the Numenoreans, but her heart told her there was much more to this tale than her brother let on.

'Perhaps when I have to talk to my nephew about that mortal, and if the Valar allow it, I can ask him to tell me about him now that he has married my sister…I feel that he has won the respect of my people but their ire also,' Findis thought cheerily.

Findis accepted men were brave but fragile and easily befouled and living for a short time... No, that man, no matter who he was or what his deeds were... He would never set foot in the Blessed Kingdom.

"Only one thing is missing," Arafinwë said suddenly.

"What is it, husband?" Eärwen asked, taking his hands.

"My love, our daughter…She plans to marry again…Celeborn invoked my father's decree; he released her from their marriage," Arafinwë said in dismay as the entire room fell silent and shocked at the news.

Eärwen turned white in shock; Celeborn had died a little over half a century ago in battle, a disgrace by all accounts, as his kindness, prudence, and wisdom were to her liking, as she happily welcomed him into their family.

If Celeborn summoned that statute, he would spend eternity in the Rooms of Command.

Yet it seemed that Artanis healed quickly, far too swiftly if Eärwen was asked though none had... Well, it seems another elf had captured her daughter's heart.

"Who won my sister's heart?" Findaráto asked, full of curiosity.

"The same who wed your aunt Jon Snow…." Arafinwë said bitterly, clenching his fists on his throne as the entire room held its breath.