Myria was startled out of her sleep from a shift on the other side of the bed. She lifted her head up to see Jon trying to slip silently under the covers. She rolled over once Jon was laying down and placed her head on his chest.
"You okay?" Jon glanced down at his wife.
"Yeah, just had a hard conversation earlier." He whispered while wrapping his arm around her waist.
She threw her arm over his torso, nodding her head at his words, "So did I."
Jon raised his eyebrows, "What hard conversation did you have?" The Dornish woman sighed, rolled out of his arms, and climbed out of bed. "Myria you didn't have to get out of bed," She just waved him off and shuffled over to the desk against the wall, picking up the sheathed sword sitting on the table Jon had missed when he entered the room. She walked over to the fireplace and stoked the embers to lighten the room more before turning back to her husband sitting up on the bed. He watched with intrigue in his eyes as his wife pulled the large sword from the sheath, squinting his eyes as the weapon washed the room with a piercing white light.
Once his eyes adjusted he was met with the sight of Myria wielding a magnificently crafted white sword with a light blue streak shining in the middle of the blade. He rose from the bed as she lightly swung the sword around, "Is that?"
"Yes." At her whisper he carefully grabbed the sacred sword of house Dayne from her hands. The moment she released her hands from the hilt the light from the blade suddenly dimmed and disappeared completely. Jon examined the sword with vigor, peering at every little crevice of the delicately made weapon. "Edric brought it with him," Grey eyes met purple ones. "I'm the new Sword of the Morning."
Jon smiled at his wife, passed her family's sword back to her, and became even more captivated as the sword regained its glow when she touched it once more. She quickly slipped Dawn back into its sheath and carefully placed it back onto the desk.
"I find it funny that a Stark is now the next Sword of the Morning," She attempted to jest with her husband, but caught a flinch coming from him. She stepped over to him and placed her hand on his arm, concerned gaze turned upwards to him, "What is it Jon?"
"Technically the new Sword of the Morning is a Targaryen." Jon squeezed his eyes shut after his confession expecting anger from Myria, but instead was met with light giggles coming from her.
She tried to lessen her laughing when she noticed the slightly disappointed look on Jon's face, "Sorry, that's very funny Jon," He shook his head at her and walked over to the other side of the room where a large chest was sitting by the wall. "I would only be a Targaryen if I married one. Just because I have purple eyes does not mean I am one."
She stopped her laughing when Jon came back to her holding multiple pieces of paper, she held out her hand and he passed them to her. She shuffled through them as she read the words slowly becoming more pale as each word passed her eye. She passed them back to Jon with a blank look on her face, and once they were safely back in his hand she collapsed to the ground.
Jon threw the papers to the ground as he dove for his wife, catching her body before she hit the cobblestone floor. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to their bed, gently laying her on top of the covers. He eyed her face as her eyes caught his, astoundment reflecting back in them.
"You're a Targaryen."
Jon gulped, "Yes."
"You're a prince."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Our mothers wanted to marry us when I was a baby and you weren't even born yet!?" Jon seemed surprised that fact upset her the most. "I mean, I'm not complaining Jon, you're wonderful." He smiled. "But honestly? That's just the biggest joke in all of the Seven Kingdoms."
He smiled at his wife, "That's what I thought when I read the agreement." The pair looked at each other and burst into laughter. He fell back onto the bed and she crawled over to lay next to him, giggling at the irony.
"King Robert was at a Targaryen royal wedding! Oh Gods, that's just the icing on the bloody cake!" Jon's laughter slowly subsided and he smirked at his wife giggling away. She looked up at him beaming and she felt a feeling of contentment she had never felt before.
Jon sat up and leaned over to pull her up as well, "So you're not mad I'm a Targaryen?"
"A flower can't choose where it blooms, Jon," She pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair. "I'm glad you told me though."
She pulled out of the hug, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, "No other skeletons in your closet?" She opened her eyes to see him nodding his head 'yes'. She hopped off the bed and picked up the dropped documents. When she turned back to Jon she found him sitting by the chest he pulled the papers from in the first place. Myria brought them to him and he opened the chest, placed them inside, and pulled out a pouch along with a smaller chest.
He handed the pouch to her gently, "These were my mother's. I think she wouldn't mind my wife wearing them now." Myria seemed confused until he opened the pouch to reveal the cache of gem riddle jewelry. He smirked as his wife's eyes almost popped out of her head as she pulled a necklace littered with orange topazes out of the bag.
"Oh, Jon. I can't. These are far too precious."
He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sure Lyanna would've wanted her Goddaughter to have them anyway." Before she could ask what he meant he passed his mother's diary to her and allowed her to read each passage.
By the end she had a yearning expression etched on her face, "Our parents truly cared for us, don't you think?"
"Considering my parents started a war, I am a tad skeptical with them," He grabbed Myria's hand. "Your parents though, they truly loved each other. If I can even halfway measure up to how your father treated your mother then I could die a happy man."
She brought her other hand up to the side of his face, "You already do Jon. To trust me with this secret shows how much you care."
She was about to place her lips upon his own when he muttered, "One more secret."
"Seven Hells, Jon," Myria huffed and threw her arms up in the air. "You carry more secrets than Varys does, don't you?" She calmed herself down enough to see Jon holding a scaled stone in one hand while handing her a different one in his other. She lightly took the stone and was shocked to be met with the same mystical warmth she felt from Dawn. She noticed how Jon almost cradled the black one he held, and she gently caressed the cream colored one she had been bestowed with. She waited as Jon placed the black one back into the velvet laden box before passing back the other one.
"I think this is the best secret."
With her final sentence she pulled her husband back to bed to rest for the night. As Jon felt her snuggle up to his side he let his eyes flutter shut and fell into a peaceful sleep.
Slobbery licks against his hand woke Jon the next day, "Shove off, Ghost." The albino direwolf pup ignored his master and instead began to lick the arm of the small woman tucked into bed with him. Myria giggled as the warm dog-like tongue brought her out of her sleep. Her purple eyes matched up with piercing ruby orbs. Maintaining eye contact, Myria lifted her hand and lightly patted Ghost on the head. The direwolf whined, gave his master one last glance, and strode away to lay by the fireplace.
"Sorry about him," Myria got up from bed after giving Jon a quick peck.
"Nothing to be sorry about, he's cute."
Jon smirked at his sweet wife's words and as he dressed simply for the day Willow entered and helped Myria lace up her blue and grey long sleeved dress. Once she was prepared for the day, Myria looped arms with Willow and stepped towards the door, "Willow and I are going to head to eat," She was halfway out the door when she turned back to Jon. "If I remember correctly you and the other men have a hunt to go on later today."
Jon groaned at her words, but listened to her giggling until she had walked further than his ears could catch. He finished dressing, called for Ghost, and followed after his cheeky wife. He quickly caught up to the women and he along with Ghost happily followed after them, occasionally chiming in on their conversation. The trio entered the Feast Hall and much like yesterday was greeted with the family conversing over food, the only thing missing from the table was Edric's wondrous tales being regaled to the children.
Instead in his place sat the small Prince Tommen who instantly brightened when he noticed his favorite friend, "My!" The woman in question smiled at the fawn and strode around to sit next to him, scooping little Rickon into her lap as she placed herself in the tiny wolf's seat. The auburn boy was quite pleased to have a comfy chair and let the Dornish woman do as she pleased. Willow and Jon chuckled at the sight and Jon took his normal seat next to Lord Stark while the handmaiden placed herself at a nearby table with Sansa's handmaiden, Jenny Poole.
"Good morning, Tommen. How is my favorite prince?" The blonde boy beamed at her question.
"Mother let me eat with Bran and we are going on an adventure today!"
Myria glanced at the 10 year old boy and caught him shoving off Arya's arm while attempting to nod his head in agreement, "Well that sounds wonderful, are Arya and Rickon going as well?"
The girl in question sneered at her younger brother, "These sods say it's 'boys only'."
"Arya!" The girl huffed at her mother's scolding tone. Instead of upsetting her mother more she turned to Sansa to try and have a 'civil' conversation. Myria's attention got pulled downward by Rickon tugging on her dress.
He waved his hand to bring her ear closer to him and lightly whispered, "I'm playing with Shaggydog, Bran says I'm too little." She gave the boy a gentle smile and wrapped her right arm around his shoulders as they both began to nibble on their food.
After everyone rotated through idle conversation Rickon hopped off of Myria's lap and followed his mother out of the hall, Arya once again got dragged away by Sansa, Little Tommen and Bran shot out of the room to play, leaving Robb, Theon, Jon, and Eddard to their meals. The three younger men conversed about the upcoming hunt while Myria moved closer to the four males remaining.
Ned gave a slight smile at her movement, "Good morning, Myria. How are you faring today?"
"Quite well," She settled into the open space next to Jon, across from Theon. "How are you Lord Stark?"
"Good enough," He spoke over his son's and ward. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you before I left for the hunt with the King?" He waited for an answer, but instead watched as Myria raised from her seat and walked towards him.
"Since I know you have to leave for the hunt soon we could take a turn in the famous glass garden I've heard so much about." Ned nodded his head, got up from his seat, and offered his arm for his daughter-in-law. The woman swiftly took if, waved to Jon, and followed the Lord of Winterfell out of the room. The pair remained in comfortable silence as they passed through the Keep, quickly reaching the glass pane doors to the garden.
Ned held open one of the doors for Myria, "We've had this garden for over 7 generations. The underground hot springs keep it quite warm." The Dornish woman beamed as she was hit with a large gust of heat rather akin to a summer breeze from Blackwater Bay. She observed the plants growing in the room, all potted in large rectangular dirt beds. "We mainly use the garden to grow vegetables and fruits in the winters," She glanced at the rows of tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, cucumbers, raspberries, strawberries, a small lemon tree, and the oranges her cousin had complained about the past day. Summer foods that would normally wither in the Northern chill.
"Any flowers?" She quipped while they continued through the rows toward a small stone bench near one of the corners of the room. Once they reached the bench Ned offered the seat for her and pointed his hand to a small bush to the left of the bench. Myria smiled at the small pale blue roses sprouting from the bush.
"Only winter roses I'm afraid. All other flowers have failed to thrive here."
She absently nodded her head while plucking one of the buds from the bush placing it in the side of her loose hair tucked behind her ear, "Your sister's favorite if I'm not mistaken?" Ned tensed at her words, but tilted his head in conformation. Myria smirked, "A true Northern beauty, just like your own daughter," She matched her purple eyes with his dark grey. "Ironically both females fit for a prince, don't you think?"
Ned sighed, "I assume Jon told you then?"
She shook her head, "He showed me." Before Lord Stark could open his mouth again she rose to her feet and swiftly approached the northern man, "No need to worry, it's his story to tell," She linked her arm to his again. "Not mine."
Eddard's face relaxed and he led her out of the gardens and towards the training yard, "Thank you, my Lady." The pair then spent the rest of their walk engaged in small talk, separating when they reached the training yard. Lord Stark slightly bowed to the woman before heading to his already saddled horse next to the King's own. Myria stayed by the doorway, covering her mouth as King Robert tried to throw himself onto his horse.
"Poor horse, don't you think?" Myria shot her head around to see the golden lion himself, Jaime Lannister, smirking at the King's attempt.
She scoffed, "Where have you been lurking, Jaime?" The kingsguard shrugged his shoulders, and tossed a small parcel at the Lady. She flung her hands out to catch it and held it at arm's length, as if she was worried it would explode.
"Oh come on, Tyrion was the one who gave you that stink bomb, not me!" She raised her eyebrows at her snarky friend. "It's a wedding gift, completely harmless." She huffed, but began to unwrap the cloth and caught the sight of an old rusted key. She gave Jaime a confused look, "It was something your father always wore. Never knew why, but I thought you would like a piece of him here with you."
"Thank you, Jaime. How considerate of you." She smiled at the small metal object. Her friend swaggered over to her and threw his arm around her shoulders.
"You know me, 'Mr. Considerate' right here," He smiled when she snorted slightly at his quip.
She attempted to compose herself, "Are you heading out on the hunt?"
He shook his head, "The King wants at least one of the kingsguard to stay and watch the younger prince and princess, so I volunteered." Myria acknowledged his answer before watching her husband and Robb hop onto side by side horses. She waved at the Stark pair and both men smiled while waving back at the small Dornish woman.
The large group of men in the yard startled at the loud cry of the king, "Come on boys, Let's go kill some boar!" The man finally upon his horse and taking off through the gates, Lord Stark following him along with the brunt of the kingsguard. The rest of the men accompanying the hunt took off after the main procession. Myria watched until the group was farther than her eyesight could catch and turned back to Jaime. But the man had left, perhaps when the rest of the men road out.
While Myria looked around the yard for her friend, another pair of friends clambered around outside the main yard of Winterfell. "Come on Tommen, it will be fun!" Bran pulled his friend by his arm towards the side of the stable, pointing to the top of the ramparts.
"I don't know," The prince followed his friend's gaze upwards. "I've never tried climbing before."
Bran tugged him close to the wooden post gesturing to the small hooks and nails in the wood, "Look I picked an easy one. Lots of footholds and things to grab," He swung his own foot up to show the 9 year old how easy it was. "I'll climb up first to show you where to climb, okay?" The timid prince gulped, but nodded his head at the auburn boy. Bran quickly slipped his foot into one of the holds and started his way up. Tommen steeled his nerves and slowly followed after his friend. Both safely reached the roof of the stables and the blonde laughed at the view they got of the yard.
Bran turned around and latched onto the stone wall of the ramparts, about to climb higher when Tommen's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Can't we stay here, the view is wonderful."
The wolf boy shook his head, "View up there is even better, we can see for miles!" The fawn inhaled and let go of his friend's shoulder. Bran smirked at him before turning around and continuing his climbing. Tommen carefully followed him up, freezing for a moment when he slipped on one of the loose stones. Bran quickly pointed out a safer ledge and the other boy swung his leg around to it, continuing his ascent. Bran flung himself over the side of the roof, pulling his legs over. He then reached his arm out and helped pull Tommen over as well.
Both boys crouched and panted for a moment before Bran pulled Tommen to the edge of the roof above the ramparts, catching the hunting party riding over the hills away from the castle. The pair gazed in awe at the picturesque view of the northern hills, fir trees scattering the landscape.
"It's amazing," Tommen whispered.
Bran watched their fathers ride out of sight, "Yeah." He looked around and glanced back at the Keep when one of the high towers drew his eye. "There's another area that's an even better climb."
The prince twisted his head to stare at his friend, "Where?"
Bran held his hand up and Tommen followed his finger to the remnants of a tall tower off to the side of the Keep.
"The Broken Tower."
Green eyes met dark blue and the two scrambled down the walls to reach the ground. Bran jumped off of the stable roof and waited for Tommen to slowly climb down. They grasped hands and shot off towards the old building hoping to reach it without anyone questioning them. They squeezed their way through the people milling about in the yard, waving at Myria and Myrcella as they ran past the females separately. The princess laughed at her brother and Myria yelled for the two to be careful. As they continued their prolonged sprint, Summer barked at his master and jumped behind them joining the fun.
The boys skidded to a stop with the direwolf pup hitting the back of Bran's legs sending him forward into the grass. The younger boy laughed at his dirt covered friend and Summer attacked his master's face, peppering it with licks and slobber. Tommen helped him from the ground and the two glanced up at the new found challenge.
The tower was the highest one in Winterfell standing over all of the walls. In its prime it was a testament to the might of the Northern Kingdom, but after the fire many of the inner rooms were long destroyed. The integrity of the outer walls, even though they were riddled with ivy, still held strong and the cobblestone they were built with was staggered well enough to provide many footholds.
Bran led the climbing at the foot of the tower and once he was a fourth of the way up Tommen began to follow him. Summer whined at the boys as they climbed higher and higher. Halfway up the Stark boy leaned up to a wooden beam, latched on, and climbed around the tower out of Tommen's sight. The younger boy attempted to speed up his pace, but he was not as fast as his counterpart. Instead he found another path in the stone and followed Bran's right way climb, catching sight of Bran leaning into a window about twenty feet above him. Tommen glanced down at the ground when he heard louder whimpering and watched as Summer paced around below.
A voice suddenly caught the small prince's attention, "The things I do for love."
Tommen threw his gaze upwards when he heard a scream and saw Bran falling towards him. He quickly grabbed tight to a piece of ivy with his left hand and swung his right hand out, catching the Stark's own hand. Bran's sudden drop plus his weight jerked the blonde boy forward, almost forcing him to let go of the ivy.
"Hang on Bran!" The older boy nodded his head and attempted to find a foothold he could grab onto to even out the weight the smaller boy was holding up.
"I can't find a foothold!"
Tommen shot his eyes around trying to eye a ledge his friend could use, but he gasped as he felt Bran's hand slowly slip out of his own. He tried to pull him up, but when he did he felt the ivy he was still clinging to loosen from the stone. Both children screamed out when they dropped a few feet as the ivy semi-dislodged from the tower.
"Tommen! Let go of me!"
"Are you crazy!?" As Tommen yelled at his friend he swore he could hear a voice yell out his name. He prayed someone had seen the boys dangling and would come help. Before either boy could think of a new idea or utter another word the ivy shifted once more.
The sudden movement caused Bran's hand to slip out of Tommen's and the prince cried out as his friend fell, tearing up when he heard his body smash to the dirt.
"Bran? Bran!"