Robb

He found himself feeling lonely, most of all. He had been nervous when he found out that he was to take his father's role as Lord of Winterfell, even if it was an acting role. But from what his mother said, je was doing well enough, it was a routine matter, he had to oversee the coin, trade and reports of the other Houses and other such matters. It was time consuming, maybe even more than he had expected but well enough.

But what felt the hardest was not having his family with him. Jon and Benjen had set out for the Wall, his father and his sisters for King's Landing, Bran lay unconscious still, while his mother remained at his bedside whenever she could, though she did as much to support Robb as she could and for that he was grateful. She did her best to comfort Rickon, who was still confused and even angry that everyone suddenly left.

Theon did his best to help as well, he offered to help Robb with any duties should he feel overwhelmed and he spent time with Rickon so he doesn't feel lonely, and Robb was very glad for his friend.

But the first sign of trouble stirred when they received a letter from his father. The news of Arya's disappearance brought a sting to Robb's heart. He sat in his chair and ran his hand through Grey Wind's pelt as he prayed for his little sister. He felt angry. First his little brother now his sister was endangered. And Robb was helpless.

"How did this happen?" Theon asked when he told him.

Robb simply handed him the letter and Theon's eyes flashed with worry as he read the letter.

"What do we tell the lady?" Theon asked after a moment.

"I don't know, '' Robb admitted, frustrated. His mother could not bear anymore pain, first whatever was said between her and father and then then her son. If her daughter would now be endangered her heart would break. If something happened to Arya, or if she just disappeared and was never found. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

None of these are going to happen, he told himself. Arya will be found. Bran will awake. And whatever had been broken between her and father will heal. It would all be well. It had to be.

"You look like death, Stark," Theon said with a small grin. "You're starting to look more like your father than ever".

Robb looked at him and Theon shrugged.

"We'll figure out what to tell the lady, '' Theon assured him as he put his hand on Robb's shoulder.

Robb could only hope he was right.

"I'll have to write to Jon as well" he said, only imagining how Jon would feel to learn about Arya. He loved their little sister the most out of all of them.

"You can write to Snow afterwards" said Theon, Robb giving him a slight glare at the way he said the last name. "First we tell Lady Catelyn".

Robb nodded reluctantly. A part of him wanted to lie, to say nothing, but that would be unfair. His mother had the right to know, she was strong, she could take it.

His heart sank as he made his way to his mother in Bran's room. She raised her head at him and he saw how tired she was, her eyes were dark and sunken and she seemed to have aged years in the last weeks. Robb's heart sank.

"Mother, have you rested?"

"I cannot," she said looking at Bran.

"Mother" Robb began, ready to comfort her when she heard the news, but was cut short by the sound of dogs barking.

"Have them silenced" his mother said agitated, but Robb listened closely at the words that bounced across the loud barks.

Fire.

"Mother, stay here" Robb said as she looked at him in horror.

"Robb, help me with him! We need to get him out."

"He will be safe here" Robb said assuringly.

Then he was running to the library's tower. Men gathered around the burning site and with Theon he led them as they fought against the fire. The flames were put out with haste, there was damage but to Robb's relief it was not deadly, but the revelation that came just after the flames were all put out that brought his fear back.

"This was no accident. This was deliberate".

"Why would anyone.." Theon began but Robb was ahead of him.

"Mother" he realised, seeing the diversion. "Bran..."

Theon, the guards, a dozen men followed Robb as he run, run like he never had in his life, seeing only his mother and brother. His blood boiled at the thought that anyone would have harmed he prayed he was not too late.

As he burst into the room, he half expected to find nothing but grief here but he found something else entirely. His mother was on the floor beside the bed, covered in blood and laughing. Beside her, Bran's wolf sat beside Bran himself, and its fangs bloody. He searched his mother for bite marks until he saw what lay next to her.

The man was small and dressed in black now colored red. A weak part of Robb wanted to look away for there was nothing left of the man's throat except red flesh scattered on the floor. But he clearly registered the silver dagger that lay on the floor, and Robb clenched his fist in anger.

His mother was unharmed. She was slightly in a state of shock, but to Robb's surprise she actually seemed less reluctant to leave Bran now, though she made sure the wolf stayed beside him. The wolf itself simply stared at them as they left and Robb noted a shine of life in his eyes he had not seen in any other direwolves, not Grey Wind, not Lady, not Ghost.

He didn't sleep that night. He led a manhunt of sorts across Winterfell, gathering witnesses and reports and gruffly demanded to know how the man had got so close, making it clear that of it was not for the direwolves then Bran and his mother would be dead and the man responsible may well have gotten away with it.

That anyone would try to do this, to hire an assassin to take away someone Robb loved like a bloody coward, it made Robb's blood freeze with cold anger and even Theon seemed afraid of him now for the next few days. The only spark of light came when news arrived that Arya was safe and well, though it did not calm the storm that had begun.

But his mother kept her emotion controlled and instead of absolute fury saw tact and self control in her eyes. Though he knew very well that she felt as he did, but she was her father's daughter and saw she focused on the matter with a cool sense of calmness.

They were gathered in the hall and reports were made.

The would-be murderer was no man of Winterfell, that had not surprised Robb. But when his mother ordered all but the most trusted men out and told them what she had learnt from his aunt, Robb was shocked.

The Lannisters had murdered Jon Arryn, Lysa had said. The next part, however, made Robb's heart grow cold with rage once more as his mother voiced her suspicions.

"It comes to me that Jaime Lannister did not join the hunt the day Bran fell. He remained here in the castle. I do not think Bran fell from that tower, I think he was thrown."

War. That was the word that rang in Robb's head. If this was all true, war was coming and immediately plans were made in his mind though his mother stopped him.

"We must be careful on this Robb. No one can know yet."

"Mother? What about father?"

"I will tell him myself, I'm going to King's Landing. I will inform him there and we shall figure out what to do with this. In the meantime take care of your brother."

The weight of responsibility once again came upon Robb's shoulders as he would be left with Wintergell without his mother's guidance. But he was a Stark so he kept his head high and nodded.

On the day she left, his mother kissed his cheek as a goodbye, but stopped on her way out of the room.

"If you can, have Jon come back sooner" she said after a heavy moment of hesitation. " If it comes down to war, you could use his help."

There was little emotion in how she said it, but compared to the other times she had spoken of Jon, it was very different. He once again wondered the truth of Jon's birth and how it seems to have changed things in their family, but now he had other matters to deal with. This was between his father, mother and brother and Robb could do nothing but wait until they saw fit to involve him.

So after she had gone, he put one hand on Grey Wind's head and the other tightly gripped his sword.

Ned

Sandor Clegane' story rang throughout their entourage.

"He was about to kill the lad, but all of a sudden two fucking giant wolves. They ate up gis horse then nearly tore if the Hound's fucking arm..then they vanished, the boy too. "

Nymeria and another wolf, could it be the mother, surely not, she couldn't have followed them. Whatever they were they had stopped Sandor Clegane from killing the boy, and that made Ned glad.

The Queen was absolutely furious that the Hound failed to capture the boy, and it only escalated when Joanna freed Lady. After failing to convince Robert, Ned had resigned to ending the wolf himself when Robert refused, planning to ensure she had a proper burial and the Lannisters could not claim her hide. He had been shocked to see the girl unchanging the wolf and ushering her away through the open gates despite the presence of the Hound and his party. She seemed satisfied with what she'd done and proceeded to assure Ned she could face whatever punishment Robert and Cersei Lannister would choose for her. She said nothing as he led her away to her mother's chambers. As she was beckoned inside, he was left to wait.

A part of him was proud of his ward, she had done this for his daughter, but he thought it unwise of her to risk herself. But he was also somewhat relieved. He had forgotten often that Joanna was a Lannister herself, and though he knew not to judge on family alone, he had always feared a part of their snide would reflect on her. But seeing her openly defy her mother to spare his daughter's pain he was certain Joanna had none of her mother's nature. Ned sometimes felt guilty, for he had grown attached to the girl he had to admit, she had become a part of their family and he sometimes felt like he was taking Robert's place.

He did not know what was said between her and Robert and Cersei Lannister, but none of them came out of that room well, Joanna was forbidden from spending time with his daughters for the rest of their journey, she remained in the wheelhouse with her mother and Ned hadn't seen her for days after that, her mother insisted she was made to take her meals separately.

Robert himself was in an extremely bad mood after his daughter insulted him in front of their entire entourage, and then directly defied him. He drank himself into unconsciousness that night and they had to stay another night at Darry until he was fit to travel. He and Ned hadn't spoken since then, Ned wasn't sure whether he was angry at Robert or not over what happened. His friend has to think about his own family, but Ned was disappointed to see him bent so easily to the lioness's will.

He believed Arya, his daughter was fierce and unruly but she would never attack the prince unless he somehow provoked her. From what she said, the prince had hurt her friend. This and the way he behaved when Arya had been brought in worried Ned, the boy always seemed willful but now he could see malice beneath his charming smile. He wondered whether it was right to agree to the match.

Sansa, despite her grief over the loss of Lady, though she took at least some comfort that her wolf was still alive, even if she would never see her again, was doing her best to make up to the prince for what had happened and there was now a clear distance between them, the prince was angry at her she could see. Sadly, Arya was as well. His younger daughter was still deeply upset over the loss of Nymeria and over her friend. The butcher's boy hadn't been seen since that night and Ned felt glad for it, he could only imagine what would have happened if the boy had been caught, though he could not imagine what would now become of the lad, if he avoided capture he could never return home. But sadly there was nothing Ned could do for him. All he could do was try to keep the peace between hos daughters and the royal family as difficult as it was.

News came from the Wall that Jon and Benjen had safely arrived and Ned was pleased when he heard that Jon immediately took to helping the recruits in their training, he had heard of Alliser Thorne, the master at arms and his ways of training. He wondered if Jon had yet spoken with Maester Aemon and he once again pondered whether it was the right thing to do, though he had to admit there was some jealousy involved, he still feared that the more Jon learnt about his birth father's family the more distant he would grow, he had assured him the last time they spoke that was not the case and called him father after so long. But still, Ned felt worry in his heart for his son.

At least some joy came from imagining the boy receiving Lyanna's sword as Benjen intended. He smiled at that. His fierce little sister with a sword like he knew she always desired. He longed to actually see it, to see Lyanna's son take after her even more than he already did. Lyanna had been fierce and expressive, her son was more sullen and brooding, though Ned knew that was his upbringing that was the cause. But his inner nature, his good heart and strength of character, that was Lya.

Ned wondered how his father had not realized, not seen, that Lyanna was disappearing with Benjen. He himself could be excused, he had at this point been shifting between Winterfell and the Eyrie. His father was a watchful man and Ned found it strange that he had never noticed the truth, but many things went unnoticed at Winterfell. The castle of the wolves was also a castle of secrets.

Secrets that tore the realm apart or kept it together. The lie of Lyanna and Rhaegar took the realm apart and the lie of their son was saving it. The lie is the sword and the shield. As hard as it sometimes was.

They had moved out of the Riverlands and into the West and would soon enter the Crownlands. Ned went to check on his daughters.

Sansa was with Septa Mordane sewing, though it was not time for their lesson.

"How are you, my dear?" he said gently.

Sansa frowned slightly.

"Prince Joffrey doesn't talk to me," she said sadly.

Ned sighed. If the prince had behaved how Arya had said, he wasn't sure if he wanted his daughter near him.

"It will be alright, Sansa" I promise" he said, though she was not convinced.

Arya was in another tent, sitting quietly by herself. She was crying, but she had tried to hide it.

"Are you well?" he asked her sadly.

"No," she admitted. "They didn't find Mycah?"

"They gave up the search, my dear, '' Ned said. She looked relieved. "And Nymeria, and Lady ?"

"No sign of them, though the Queen has a price on their pelts" Ned admitted. Arya sighed.

"It's my fault" she said. "If I didn't ask Mycah to play, none of this would have happened. He can't go home now. And Nymeria and Lady."

Ned could only hold her and try to comfort her, as futile as it was.

Afterwards, he went to his own tent to go through papers when he was called to meet with the King.

He was led to Robert's tent where the Kingsguard stood outside.

"The King will see you as soon as he has finished with the Queen" said one of the Kingsguard.

Ned waited as raised voices cane from the tent.

"They know where the wolves will have gone, you need to force them to tell you" Cersei Lannister was shouting.

"Damn it woman, I'VE HAD ENOUGH. Those wolves are gone, the children are punished, it's done with."

"Done with? And Joanna? What she did?"

"She's being punished for what she said and did, that's that.

"It was Ned Stark's doing" Cersei shouted angrily. "It's his fault, that's his savage ways of rubbing off on her. He corrupted our daughter".

"Don't bring Ned into this" Robert shouted. "Leave me, he's on his way and neither of us will want to suffer you."

Cersei Lannister stormed out, her green eyes piercing Ned's as she passed by him. He waited until she was gone and was invited inside.

Robert Baratheon sat on a chair, his eyes dark and sunken and Ned could tell he was drunk.

"Come, Ned, drink with me" he said, placing a goblet on the table beside hos own.

Ned sat quietly as the wine was poured and took a small sip in contrast to Robert's gulp.

"You heard her, haven't you?" Robert asked.

Ned said nothing. Robert sighed.

"I'm sorry about her, Ned. Whatever happened on that damn day.."

He shook his head.

"I don't blame you for Joanna. I know you raised her well."

"I tried to," Ned said as Robert sighed.

"You did more than I did," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about what happened, Ned."

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"It does, we're not talking, Ned. I invited you to King's Landing to bring us closer, not set us apart."

"Let us put it behind us, then" Ned said with a small smile.

"You're the only one I can trust, Ned. I want you to know that. You would never go against me, would you?"

Ned saw Jon and Lyanna, and the bodies in the throne room, and his heart tightened

"Never".

Joanna

She was to remain in the wheelhouse for the rest of the journey, her father had said. She was to eat her meals alone. The Stark girls were forbidden from seeing her as was her uncle. Tommen and Myrcella were sometimes allowed to come see her, but never without their mother, which made it awkward, though not as much as when she sat with her alone. They went on wordlessly, her mother hadn't spoken with neither scorn or a kind word, though she could see from her green, cold eyes that stared at her like a lion ready to pounce. She knew what she had done was a betrayal.

She kept her face equally straight though the look in those eyes, her own eyes, hurt her, made her heart ache and her hands shake and remembered what had been said at Darry.

She was called into her mother's chamber, leaving behind Lord Stark whom she asired she was alright, though she still squeezed Jon's pendant harder and harder as she entered.

Her father sat by his desk already drinking while her mother stood by him. Her father's eyes were on the floor, while her mother was staring directly at her, her face dark and cold, and Joanna fekt her action was unforgivable.

"Explain yourself" her father said coldly, taking another long drink.

"I freed Lady, father" Joanna said simply, keeping her tone neutral.

Her father said nothing, it was her mother who spoke up, a hitch to her voice.

"Why?"

Joanna looked at her, as hard as it was to stare into her eyes.

"Because she shouldn't be harmed for something she didn't do, mother".

"You chose a damn beast over your own family" her mother said, shaking her head angrily. "A damn northern beast that now runs loose. Did you even think about that, Joanna. All we wanted was justice for your brother and you..."

"Would it have been justice?" Joanna asked quietly. "If a man were to attack a prince and escaped, would you kill his brother and call it justice?"

"That's the Imp's filthy tongue on you, you silly girl" her mother said, her face turning red as she stepped towards her. "You're brother was attacked and you side with that savage girl, that horrible..."

"Don't call her that" Joanna said, her own anger rising to the fore. "Arya may be willful, but how Joffrey behaved is what's really horrible".

Her mother moved as if she was about to strike her, but stopped at her father's voice.

"Leave it, woman" he barked. "Come to me, girl" he said gruffly.

Joanna approached and he finally looked at her, his eyes sunken and dark.

"The wolf, perhaps I can put down to mischief, but what you said in that room, what you called me" he shook. "Me, the fucking Demon of Trident who killed Rhaegar fucking Targaryen, shown up by a girl of fourteen, my own daughter.

I'm thirteen, she wanted to say, but her mother's reaction to her back talking and the look in her father's eyes had shaken her. So she held her tongue and waited until it was over.

"In front of everybody, you know what they will say of me now, after you not only called me out but disobeyed an order of the King. They'll laugh at me in their taverns and barns. He can't even control his own daughter, never mind the Seven Kingdoms, that's what they'll say Joanna."

His words were quiet but full of such force that Joanna actually felt afraid.

"Do you want that, Joanna, do you want them to think that of me?"

"No" she answered.

"No? Then why did you say it?"

"I was angry. Arya's my friend."

"And you did her no favors, nor her sister. The wolves are gone anyway. Some fuckers gonna hunt them down for their hide, your mother will see to that."

She caught her mother grinning, so did her father.

"Don't you smile, woman. I've had enough of this shit. All of it. Joanna, you're going to stay in the wheelhouse for the rest of the journey, you're not to see your friends until we get to King's Landing. I'll think of another punishment when I'm sober enough. Now go, and let this be the end of it."

He turned back to his goblet in clear dismissal and Joanna turned to go to her room, avoiding her mother's gaze.

The journey was longer than she had expected and she nearly went mad in there, trapped with no one but her quiet mother, whose gaze ate her up.

She could have kissed the ground when they finally came to a halt and she was invited outside to see King's Landing in the distance.

The city was bigger than she remembered but still she thought it was too small for the number of people that lived there. After spending so long in the North she did not think so many people could be crammed into such a small space.

The city had its beauty though, as her father had promised, there were flowers and busy markets and a warm sun. The light blinded her slightly as she moved by her mother's side towards the massive Red Keep, it was never this bright in the North.

She had been given back her old room. It was bigger than her one at Winterfell though now she felt more like a guest here than she did there.

She was left alone to settle in before the welcoming feast. There would also be a tourney in Lord Stark's honor soon, and she thought that might at least be fun. But still, she felt like a prisoner of sorts here, she was to remain here until she could marry Willas Tyrell, a man she never even met. She now realised how hopeless her situation was. She would be packed off to Highgarden to act as the Crown's spy on the Tyrells, she doubted she'd ever see Winterfell or the North again, and her friends once per a decade perhaps.

But some part of her was also relieved she would not be here indefinitely. She wouldn't have to endure her father's drinking or her mother's sneers, gods it felt wrong to think of them like that. They were her parents, she loved them, but she knew both their nature's in her heart and she could bear them. Her younger siblings she would miss, she had grown to love them quickly, but Joffrey she would be the happiest to get away from. She had not seen him since what happened at Darry but she dreaded it, for surely his wrath would be great.

She wanted to speak to her Uncle Tyrion, she could speak to him about anything. He would not judge her, he would understand even. But where he was she did not know and she wasn't even sure if she had leave to move around the Keep as she wished.

She was getting ready for the feast when Tommen and Myrcella came in, both dressed in fine garments, Tommen carrying Ser Lion in his arms.

"Ready for the feast?" she asked them with a smile.

They nodded, but neither said a word and she saw something was wrong.

"What is it?"

"Nothing" Myrcella clearly lied, and Joanna could see tears in her eyes. She came over to wipe them and said again..

"What's the matter, tell me?"

"It's just Joffrey," Myrcella said quietly, looking down at the floor while Tommen seemed to stiffened.

"What did he do?" Joanna asked worriedly.

"Nothing"..

"Myrcella..." she said kindly but firmly.

"He overheard us saying something," Myrcella told her quietly as Tommen breathed heavily.

"What did you say?" she asked, fighting to stay calm.

Myrcella's green eyes lit slightly.

"That we were happy that Lady was alright. He got angry."

"Did he shout at you?" she asked and knew the answer before it was given.

"Yes".

Joanna sighed then looked at them both in turn.

"Tell me the truth, did he do anything else".

They hesitated.

"Please, just tell me".

"He... shoved us a few times, we fell down. Then he grabbed Ser Lion and he..."

Joanna looked at Tommen who was crying now. Then she looked properly at the cat now and saw clearly the grim, scared look on it's bushy face.

Joanna gently took the cat from Tommen's arms and to her surprise it struggled. He usually liked being held but now it seemed fearful. He only calmed down when she put him back in her brother's arms, but she had already seen the unnatural way it was holding its front right foot, and the trace of blood on its fur. Then she looked back to their fearful faces.

"He said..." Tommen croaked out red faced, "that next time he'll drown him and put pieces of him in our soup so we don't know we're eating him." Then he started crying again.

The stress of the last few days went away in a split second. She felt like she had felt back at Darry and she didn't care where it would get her. She kept her face calm for them, she wiped their tears and hugged them and comforted them and then asked them to wait for her in her chambers.

Then she was on her way to Joffrey's room.

Viserys

"Rhaego" she called out to the savages, whose cheers rang in the night.

She stood with the Khal by a bonfire as she was raised up, the beasts chanting the name again and again. Viserys shook with disgust.

His sister, at last kept her promise. A sin she had declared. Seeing her stand so high, so fuvking proud of herself when this was his accomplishment, his glory. He would be the King, and his sister only his queen, his wife.

He already knew that the Khal had to die. Perhaps on the battlefield or by poison of necessary. This charade, this so-called marriage, only a means to an end. A means for them to achieve their destiny. Daenerys was meant for him. Such was the law of their family, to keep the fire in their blood.

But he was so damn angry that Khal was the one to claim his sister's maidenhood. That was his right and his alone. He had tried to, the night before the wedding, but the fuckers were watching her like hawks so he backed away. He, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, was sent off like a scorned dog. Like he was made to hide in the shadows by the traitors that stole his throne. The thought made him shiver with his fury.

But what truly made him angry was his sister. A girl, a third born, and here was being celebrated by the damn savages like some goddess when it was he they should be cheering for. He was the one true king, heir of Aerys, descendant of Aegon. Why weren't they cheering for him? Why?

It made him hate his sister, that ungrateful brat. After all he did for her, after he kept her fed, after he protected her, after all he taught her. She Zayed like it was a king she held beneath her heart, that spawn was no Targaryen. It was a horse spawn of a savage and the fact that it was growing in the womb where Viserys's heir will one day grow made his stomach turn. His sister. Here she was thinking she could steal his birthright, his due. He would not have this.

The morning after they announced her pregnancy, he went into her tent. She was alone, and when he saw what she was kneeling over he nearly screamed. The black dragon egg, his by right, was in her hands and she was looking into it with such awe as if she was the heir not him. Anger was brought to the fore and she saw it when she looked at him.

"Viserys..."

"You little shit" he said as he approached her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I saw you, looking like you were the damn Queen. I'm the King, I'm the dragon. You think that because you carry hos spawn you can usurp me? You need to remember your place, sister."

He grabbed her shoulders.

"You've woken the dragon! You hear me? You brought this on yourself".

"Viserys, let go!" she cried as she shook her, and then pinned her against the ground.

"You ungrateful brat! You silly little girl! You think that you can"

The slap caught him off guard, and he stumbled back at the force of it. She slid like a serpent from his grasp and hit him again. He was now the one on the ground and she stood over him, her purple eyes burning.

"I am a Khaleesi of the Dothraki! I am the wife of the great Khal and I carry his son inside me. The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands, brother."

She stormed out and Viserys sat still in a daze for minutes and then he roared. He, a king, was humiliated and shamed by his little sister.

The dragon in him shook with anger and he remembered his father, the burning in his eyes whenever someone crossed him. Mad King, mad king, mad king, liars. They called his righteous madness and used it as an excuse to ruin him. His father would be avenged as would Viserys. And Dany's defiance would not stand in his way.

He was taking out his rage on dummy if all things, swinging his sword and cutting it into pieces and then he moved on to a few trees. His hands were sweating and bloody by the time they stopped him and announced Illyrio Mopatis had arrived for another visit.

"Splendid" the fat man laughed in his tent as Viserys came in. "Your sister carries the future in her womb, she has done very well."

Viserys stared at him.

"This is a victory for me, Magister, not for my sister" he spat out.

Illyrio blinked.

"Viserys".

"Your Grace! You will address me as your Grace, Magister, or must I correct you" he said angrily, tightening his sword hand.

"Your Grace, if I have offended you..."

"Yes, you have offended me. You forget that I am the heir to the Iron Throne, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. And yet you seem to favour my sister. My sister, who has pried on me my whole life like a leech. You praise her, you celebrate her, and you gave her a dragon egg as a fucking wedding gift. It's mine. Mine by right and you handed it to Dany like it was some fucking toy."

He took a step forward and Illyrio's eyes widened.

"Your Grace, the princess, is the key to the alliance with the Dothraki. You must understand that in favour of the alliance and the future of the Seven Kingdoms, we devote most of our attention to her..."

Viserys jumped and grabbed the man by the throat.

"I AM THE FUTURE OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS. ME! NOT HER! NOT HER!"

The guards pulled him off just as Illyrio's face was turning blue and the man looked at him in shock at what he had done. How there they threaten the dragon!

Viserys shook free of them and stared down at Illyrio.

"Do well to remember to whom the Iron Throne belongs, and who will judge your fate based on how successful our mission is. You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?"

Jon

He had been called into Lord Commander Mormont's solar that morning, where the man produced all his reports on the wildlings and Jon actually felt worried as he read through them.

"They've never rallied like this" Jon said and Mormont nodded.

"Not since the Wall was built".

"Wall" cried the Lord Commander's raven.

"And this Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall."

"A traitor to the Watch '' Mormont said gravely. "A black brother who went far North and disappeared. He returned calling himself a King and he's gathering the wildling clans, from what we've heard."

"What are you planning to do about it?" Jon asked worriedly.

"Fight if we must," Mormont told him. "We've sworn to protect the Wall and that we shall do."

Jon nodded and went over the reports again, and with each turn he was beginning to realize just how far things had fallen. The wildings were increasing in strength and numbers, but the Watch was doing the opposite. Reduced to the Shadow Tower, Castle Black and Eastwatch, the Wall was largely undefended, if the Wildlings somehow broke through, Jon was unsure if the Watch would be enough to overcome them.

Most of the boys he'd been training with were decent, but none of them were there by choice nor were they born fighters. Ser Alliser did not appreciate Jon's aid, when he trained again with the boys he called him out snidely and mocked him.

"You walk around like you're the damn Lord Commander, but you crawled out of the sane gutter as them all, Lord Snow"

Despite it's snide origin, the recruits had taken to calling him that and Jon was finding it annoying, but then he remembered Tyrion Lannister's words

Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you."

He could never be Maekar Targaryen, that he knew, no matter what his words with the Maester would bring. He would always be Jon Snow, bastard of Winterfell. So let that be his armour.

He sighed and turned back to the reports.

The Watch was outmanned and if the Wildlings grew powerful enough, not only the Wall but Westeros would be in danger. He would need to speak to his father and see what could be done to help.

The Lord Commander poured himself beer and looked at Jon.

"You look like your father, young Snow '' he said after a moment.

"Everyone tells me that, '' Jon said, a part of him reminding him he looked like his mother, not his father.

"I remember your grandfather, I knew him once. Rickard Stark. A good lord, we were honored to serve him. Your father as well."

He shook his head sadly.

"I can only wish I could repay him for House Mormont's dishonor on the Starks and the North."

"Dishonor?" Jon asked.

"Did you hear of my son, Jorah, young Snow".

"Snow" squaked the Lord Commander's raven. "Snow".

"Aye," Jon said knowingly. He had heard this story before.

"My son was Lord of Bear Island, Lord of House Mormont. A Northern knight of the realm. I was proud of him then. But then he married Lynesse Hightower. He met her at tourney, she was twice his age and beautiful. He asked for her hand and it went quickly from there" he sighed. "The marriage wasn't happy for long. She was a wealthy woman of the South, she wasn't ready for the cold North, and not the poverty of Bear Island. She grew miserable and cold and my son wasted away trying to make her happy. He spent all his coin on gifts and pleasures for her. They made her happy at first I was told, but it didn't last long. Eventually, Bear Island was running put of coin yet my lovestruck son could not stop trying to have Lynesse like she had been before the North. He dealt in a vile art, young Snow, a vile art, an art of dishonor."

"Slavery" Jon said and Jeor Mormont nodded.

"He sold poachers je had captured off for coin to keep himself in Lynesse's favour. The shame of it, young man. When my son was discovered, he knew your father would have to take his head, or send him to me at the Wall. But my son wanted neither. He took Lynesse amd they fled to Essos far from your father's judgement and I was left with shame, and a token of the last spark of honor that remained in my son."

"Son" squaked the raven. "Son".

He reached down and raised his sword. Jon saw it clearly, the bear on the hilt of the long Valyrian sword, the sword of House Mormont.

"He had left it at Bear Island. My sister, to whom the burden and honor of ruling House Mormont, returned it to me. It's the only thing that reminds me I haven't completely failed to raise my son. At least he understood it was no longer his sword".

He drank the last of his wine as Jon listened sadly. He could see pain in the man's eyes.

"Look at me, rumbling about the past. Let us discuss the Watch's defence, shall we?" Mormont said after a moment.

Jorah Mormont stayed in Jon's mind for some time. He imagined himself ever failing Lord Stark in such a manner and the thought of the pain in Mormont's eyes passed onto Eddard Stark's made him shiver.

But it paved way for him to start thinking of Rhaegar Targaryen again. Imagining him and his family, what they were like and if Jon was anything like them. He didn't know if he wanted to be.

He took his mind off it by training with the boys again. He found he grew to like some of them, Pypar and Grenn in particular. He sat with them at the morning meal and spent it laughing at Pypar's acts with them. Though he still felt the eyes of Ser Alliser on him.

"Lord Snow wants to take my place now" he said as Jon was trying to explain a sparring move go Grenn. "I'll have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than you training this eurochs."

"I'll take that wager, Ser Alliser" Jon told the man. "I'd love to see Ghost juggle".

As the laughter grew around him, Thorne's sword hand tightened.

"That was a grievous error, Lord Snow" he spat and Jon realised he had made an enemy.

Apart from the sense of danger, there was irony that Thorne was spitting threats at one of the last Targaryens, for whom he had gone to the Wall. Jon found himself wondering what Thorne would do if he knew, vut he shook his head, that could never be.

His mind drifted back to what lay ahead for him. His uncle promised to have a private meeting with Aemon for him and Jon was getting nervous. How should he start that conversation? Could he even have that conversation? Or would he run away again like a coward, refusing to face who he was? That he didn't know but it stayed with him for hours until his uncle called him over at last.

Benjen Stark's eyes were heavy and it made Jon feel worse. His uncle was silent as they made their way over to the stout wooden keep beneath the rockery were the Maester had his chambers, Jon retrieving the Targaryen box, concealed in a package, from his room on the way, clutching it tightly as they found their way to the Maester's door, Ghost beside them.

His uncle looked at him wearily.

"Would you like me to explain, Jon? Then I could leave you alone to speak?" he said, trying to mask his own nervousness.

Jon shook his head. He felt he ought to face this on his own.

His uncle nodded and knocked on the door. One of the Maester's stewards opened and stared suspiciously, but still stepped aside to beckon them inside.

The man that sat by the desk looked like a ghost in every way. He was old, sunken and thin, with a wrinkled, sullen face, dressed in black and a Maester's chain. His eyes mat have been purple once, but now they were pale white and unseeing as hos uncle had said.

"My nephew, Jon" Benjen said, clearly leaving out the bastard last name.

The Maester raised his head slightly and Jon felt he was staring at him as impossible as it was.

The man's voice was calm, but firm.

"Well met, young man," he said.

"Wellet, Maester" Jon said, trying not to sound timid, but he felt the Maester noticed, though the old man did not show it.

"You're uncle speaks very highly of you, boy. I dare say you are his favorite among Lord Stark's children."

He noticed a slight smile on his uncle's face and it brought him comfort.

"Perhaps I should leave you to speak now," Benjen said. "Maester Aemon".

"Oh course, Benjen" Aemon said with a nod and his uncle gave him a reassuring look and went out.

"I understand you wish to speak with me, alone, boy, you may leave us, Chett" he said to the steward. The ugly man gave Jon another suspicious glance.

"Maester..."

"Now if you will, Chett. Benjen Stark's nephew would not harm me, I assure you."

"But the wolf..."

"Ghost may leave, if you so wish, Maester" Jon said but Aemon shook his head.

"Leave it, young man. You may go, Chett."

Chett suppressed a scoff and walked out of the room, leaving Jon alone with the Maester. Jon stared at the man, unsure of what to do, and a part of him searched the man's face for any resemblance. If he were younger perhaps it would be easier.

"Well, boy? Don't stand on ceremony. I can feel this will be a long discussion."

Jon sat awkwardly on the other side of the desk, the Maester's unseeing eyes on him. Ghost sat down beside his chair.

"Well?" the Maester asked, "what business does the Lord of Winterfell bring to an old man at the end of the world".

"It's not really my father's business. Well it is, but it was my uncle who suggested I speak with you."

"About what, boy?" the Maester said, his face unreadable but somehow knowing.

"I'm not sure where to start".

"At the beginning boy" the Maester answered and Jon sighed, placing the box on the table.

"What is this?" The Maester asked, reaching out to feel it. His eyes widened in surprise as his hands drifted to the dragon symbol.

"Is this..."

"The symbol of your House, Maester" Jon said.

"You know?"

"Aye, my uncle told me. But don't hold it against him. He did it out of care for me.

"Where did you get this?" the Maester asked in shock. "Who gave it to you?"

His surprise betrayed

"You know it?" Jon asked, surprised.

"I know of similar boxes. Used by members of House Targaryen to keep their secrets. Where did you find it?"

"My father... Lord Stark gave it to me. He... found it at the Tower of Joy. It was Lyanna Stark's, and before that it was Rhaegar Targaryen's."

The Maester closed his eyes.

"My nephew. Great, great nephew, though he always called me uncle."

He opened his eyes.

"Lyanna Stark had it at the Tower? He left it there? Why did Lord Stark wait until now?"

"My lord... I suppose it's better I start with the tourney of Harrenhal. Have you heard of the Knight of the Laughing Tree?"

"I have."

"The knight was Lyanna."

"I know. You're uncle let it slip when we spoke of his sister."

"He did? Well... Rhaegar was sent to find her, and he did. He swore to keep her secret. And moons later, the realm received word that he had kidnapped her."

The Maester's face darkened.

"Do you... my lord?"

"Do I believe it? All I will say is that the Rhaegar I knew would never do that. Though there was nothing I could do. Whatever happened destroyed my family and I was helpless to stop it".

Jon sighed.

"I know what happened. You are right. He didn't do it.

Aemon raised his head.

"You know?"

"Lord Stark knew since he found his sister dying in that Tower, Rhaegar never kidnapped her. They fell in love. She left willingly."

Aemon closed his eyes again.

"I knew Rhaegar never would. I knew there was another end to this story. So they fled together?"

"They married, my lord".

"Married," Aemon said surprised.

"Aye. Elia Martell gave consent so long as her children were kept legitimate."

"Elia," Armon said quietly. "I wouldn't have thought they would... why now, boy?"

Jon hesitated.

"My lord, Lord Stark didn't just find his sister at that Tower. He found a child, her child. And Rhaegar's."

Aemon was still as a statue as he waited expectantly, though his eyes were glowing with a powerful emotion Jon couldn't comprehend.

"A child?.. Rhaegar had another child? With Lyanna Stark? Oh gods... is it.. was it..."

"It was me, my lord" Jon said equally quietly. "My father, my birth father, was Rhaegar Targaryen."

Maester Aemon's white eyes suddenly became wet.

"Gods," he said. "Oh gods. Come closer, boy".

Jon hesitated.

"Please..."

Jon slowly rose from his chair, passing Ghost who sat calmly in his spot.

The old man reached out to put his hand on Jon's shoulder, and he almost seemed to be examining him with unseeing eyes.

"Oh, my boy, oh gods' ' Aemon's voice became whizzy and he put his habd to chest, and Jon felt concerned.

"I'll get you some help" he said as he made to run for the door, but the old man suddenly reached out to grab hos arm.

"No, don't go," he said. "Water"...

Jon grabbed a mug and helped the man pour it down. Aemon still breathed heavily, but seemed to strengthen. He moved his head upwards towards Jon who still held the man's shoulders in concern.

"Tell me everything," Aemon said.

After making sure the Maester was strong enough to hear this, Jon told him the story as his father had done, and watched as the man's face lit up in emotion as he listened to perhaps the greatest secret in the Seven Kingdoms.

Benjen

He was not sure when he would give Jon Frostbite. He found himself clinging to it that night and wasn't sure if he could really give it up,it was a piece of Lyanna, something to remember her by, but it was Jon's birthright as much as the box and those letters. A part of him hoped it would remind him of his northern blood, a part of him feared that upon meeting Aemon and learning of his family history, the boy would somehow forget hos Stark roots and embrace the fire in his blood, as unlikely as it was, he knew Jon would never forsake the Starks even if he embraced the dragons. But still, he didn't want to lose Lyanna's son, and seeing him with his sister's sword to remind him of her would quiet Benjen's worries.

He decided he should give it to him after he spoke with Aemon, perhaps just before he left. So now he placed it back under his bed and went to meet with Mormont to discuss range parties, after which he got word that the Maester would speak with Jon.

Once he had taken his nephew to see him, he meant to dine with his black brothers. One of the recruits was singing while another was putting on a mummer's show. He meant to sit in the quieter corner when he was called over by Alliser Thorne.

"Bringing noble bastards to the Wall, Stark?" he sneered.

"What business is it of yours, Thorne?" Benjen said annoyed.

"Teach him to respect his betters" Thorne said, venomously.

"He's just soppy cause the lad japed about him" one of his black brothers giggled.

"He humiliated me," Thorne said angrily.

"A fourteen name day old boy?" Benjen with a sly smile. "Well, almost fifteen, I'll give you that".

"Damn you, Stark," Thorne growled. "Where is the bastard anyway?"

"As I told you, it's not your business".

"He's with the old Maester," Clydas said, coming into the room. "The Maester practically threw Chett put.

Thorne's eyes widened and he glared at Benjen.

"What does the bastard want with Maester Aemon?"

"That's their business," Benjen said glaring in return. "You should stay out of other people's business and focus on training, Thorne. I heard you're not doing a very good job".

Thorne glared at him.

"Damn Starks" he said under his breath as he walked away, Benjen staring after him.

Jon came back at nightfall and Bwnjen was eager to know what was said between them. The boy was calm when he spoke to him, for which Benjen was glad. Aemon had promised to speak again yesterday and while it made Benjen glad as well, a part of him worried as people were paying more attention to Jon and Aemon than he would have liked. They had to be careful.

Aemon

His world was in darkness. He had lost his sight long before the Rebellion that destroyed his family and yet he had always seen things even the sharpest if eyes could not see. But he had not seen this, je had not even suspected. He had been sure Rhaegar's line was gone, his wife and children slaughtered, but there was another one. Another son. Maekar, Rhaegar had named him and it brought him back to the time when Rhaegar had come to him at the Wall.

"If my third child shall be a son, I will give him your name, uncle."

Aemon laughed.

"I am but an old Maester, my boy. Name him Maekar after my father if you feel compelled to honor me."

"Perhaps I shall, uncle, stay safe" Rhaegar answered and he felt Rhaegar touch his hand.

"You too nephew, you too".

But Rhaegar had died, accused of a crime Aemon knew he wouldn't commit. Aerys was lost, lost to the sickness that had plagued their family for centuries and now with one command Aerys had sealed their family's fate. Their house, robbed of their throne, may yet have been spared, had it not been for the Lannisters. The whispers of Tywin's act broke Aemon's heart. He cursed his old age, he cursed that he could not leave this cold place to save Rhaegar's brother and sister from a life of exile. They were the last three, House Targaryen had been founded by three and now three was all that remained.

But he was wrong. Rhaegar had left behind another son. He and Lyanna Stark may have brought about the war with their actions, but he knew in his heart they never meant for it to happen and they had both paid a heavy price, so Aemon could not bring himself to hate them. But their son lived. Their son, Egg's great great grandchild. A piece of his beloved brother stood eight in front of him when he thought he would never feel the call of blood again. He thanked the gods for Eddard and Benjen Stark.

The boy was timid and formal though Aemon could not blame him, he had spent a life living a lie and now he was facing a living part of the truth.

They spoke for a while though it was mainly the boy who spoke, Aemon asked him for the full story and then to say a little but his life. He perhaps ought to be angry that Stark condemned the boy as a bastard and planned to have him swear himself away, but Stark had protected the boy and for that he was grateful.

The boy lived a decent life, far more than his brother and sister got, and now he had come to Aemon and the old man felt alive again. This was a sign, a message. His family was not done, was not brought down. It lived on. In Viserys. In Daenerys. In the young man he could not see and yet with every moment he felt the fire within him as well as ice. In Aemon now too.

He sent the boy away to rest and asked him to come see him the next day. Tomorrow, it will be Jon Snow asking questions. He would tell him everything. Of Egg, of their family and of Rhaegar. He would pass on as much knowledge as he could to Egg's grandson, his blood.

Rhaegar was in his thoughts that night. Chett and Clydas helped him to get and he dismissed them quickly. Then he got up and reached down near his bed. He felt the Targaryen sigil on the chest beat, much like the one the boy had brought him. Slowly he opened it and at once he felt the fire building up within, stronger than ever before.

The dragon egg's scales felt warm and pulsing with life as he put his hand on it.

(Hi, I'm really sorry it took so long. Chapters will unfortunately take much longer to arrive from now on than summer's over but I'll do my best. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews. Please leave your thoughts in the comments. Let me know if I make any mistakes or need to change something(: )