Chapter 8

Sundas, the 10th of Second Seed, Year 202 of the 4th Era

Daenerys looked about for Farkas as she marched into Jorrvaskr. It was early in the afternoon and the main hall of Jorrvaskr was almost empty. There was still food on the tables. There was always food on the tables of Jorrvaskr, but no Companions. Only old Tilma and one of the serving wenches whose name she didn't know were present cleaning the place up. She wasn't sure what she would have done if Farkas had been here: slap him, hit him, or Shout at him, but she wasn't at all happy with him for dropping this mess in her lap. He'd claimed it was a simple mission, just go beat some milk drinker into submission, and don't ask questions.

Daenerys knew it wouldn't be a simple mission as soon as she heard the destination was Battle-born farm. The Battle-borns were an important clan of nobles in Whiterun, and they strongly supported the Imperial side of the civil war. Given that the Companions were believed to favor the Stormcloaks, it didn't make sense for someone to involve the Companions in solving any matter of honor at Battle-born farm. So, instead of just beating up a milkdrinker, she had done what Farkas told her not to do. She asked questions. Those questions had led to answers that she didn't like, and that had led her back here. Daenerys glanced back to make sure that both Alfhild Battle-born and Gwendolyn had followed her inside. Both the blonde Nords were still with her. They stood side-by-side arms crossed, the same sullen expression on their faces, and deliberately not looking at each other. If she didn't know that Gwendolyn was merely a retainer, she would have thought they were two sisters having a spat.

Sofija stood behind the pair. She shrugged when Daenerys met her gaze, but otherwise stayed silent and watchful.

"Sofija, go find Lydia and swap off. You need some rest. You've been getting too little of late."

Sofija hesitated. "My thane, we could send a servant to fetch Lydia. I can stand watch until she arrives."

Daenerys sighed. "Sofia, go. That's an order. We're in the halls of Jorrvaskr in the middle of the day. If an assassin does choose now to strike at me, there are probably a dozen Companions within earshot. I will be fine. Go get some rest. I'll wait here until Lydia arrives."

Sofija bowed stiffly. "As it is your command, I reluctantly obey."

Daenerys shook her head. Sofija had mellowed somewhat since she and Ull became lovers. She no longer jumped at her every word. However, she was also adopting Lydia's gift of agreeing while actually disagreeing. Daenerys didn't have a problem with her housecarls being dedicated to her safety. That was a good thing. She did have a problem with them pushing themselves too far. She probably needed more bodyguards, but that was a problem for another day.

She looked back at the two women she was escorting. Alfhild and Gwendolyn were still being sullenly silent. Waiting here in the dining hall or out on the patio for the next few hours for Jon Battle-born to arrive would certainly attract attention.

Daenerys looked in the direction of the prow. That would be perfect. The prow was a small room directly off the main hall. It took its name from being at one end of Jorrvaskr. The room was rarely used during the day. Officially it was a place where a member of the Circle could meet with someone looking to hire the services of the Companions. The prow did serve that purpose on occasion and held a table, a desk and some chairs for those meetings. However, the prow also held two beds with privacy curtains because the prow saw the most use at night. Hardly an evening meal went by when a Companion didn't scoop a serving wench up and carry her off to the prow accompanied by cheers and raucous laughter.

She found the custom a little distasteful, but hardly shocking. At least the Nords sought out privacy for their couplings – unlike the Dothraki or the freed slaves of Meereen. The serving wenches of Jorrvaskr also had the right to say no. She had never seen a single serving wench complain about being carried off. In fact, most of them flirted outrageously trying to gain attention. Delphine had warned her that there was a thin line between a tavern wench and a whore. In her opinion the women who served the Companions crossed that line. They were mostly young women, drawn by high wages and the hope of snaring a Companion as a husband. What annoyed her about the custom, was that it was all about the male Companions showing off their masculinity. Over-the-top wenching went along with the heavy drinking and bragging that Nords expected of their heroes.

Perhaps she should have paid more attention to Nord customs about lovers and children. From what she knew few if any of the serving wenches ever managed to marry a Companion. Many would be sent away with a bag of gold and a babe in their belly. Perhaps some of them found a husband that didn't mind raising a Companion's bastard, but she wouldn't be surprised if most of them didn't end up becoming whores. It probably wasn't something any of her fellow Companions thought or cared about. However, not all the servants of Jorrvaskr were young women. Old Tilda was sweeping the hall close by. She had stayed until she was old and grey, and there were a few other servants who worked in the kitchens in their middle years. So, it was possible for a servant to stay, just few did. However, none of this reflection was solving her problem.

Daenerys shook off her thoughts as she spied her other housecarl approaching. "Lydia, did Sofija fill you in on the situation?"

"She did, my thane."

Daenerys waited a moment until it became clear that Lydia wasn't going to volunteer any more without being directly asked to do so. "Any thoughts on the situation?"

"It is a difficult situation, my thane, but I believe you have chosen the honorable path. There is a saying that I think applies here. Honor isn't about making the right choices. It is about dealing with the consequences."

Daenerys smiled. Yes, that certainly applied to this situation. There were certainly many bad choices being made all around and a failure to face the consequences. She turned to face Alfhild and Gwendolyn. "Let's see if the prow is occupied. We can wait in there for Jon to arrive." That would attract less attention than sitting on the patio.

Tilma stopped her sweeping. "Are you talking about Jon Battle-born? He's already in the prow, dear. Your man arrived a little while ago and asked if he could lie down for a bit until you arrived."

Daenerys frowned. She should have known better than to ignore the servants and assume they wouldn't eavesdrop. However, she did need to nip this rumor in the bud. "Jon Battle-born is not my man." She had kept her meetings with him to the patio in plain sight of everyone to avoid rumors like this. "He is a bard interested in tales of my homeland, nothing more."

"I'm sorry, dear, but I'm just repeating what I've heard and seen. You're on the go all the time, rushing here, rushing there, but you make time to meet with a handsome young man to drink wine, watch the sunset, and share stories?" She shrugged. "I'm not doubting your word, Companion. From the look on your face, you really didn't mean it that way, but that kind of thing gets noticed."

Daenerys shook her head ruefully. "Everything I do gets noticed." Maybe she should take a lover. She could certainly afford to buy Dibella's tears now, and Nords were only judgmental about affairs when marriage vows were being broken. Although, knowing what she now knew about Jon Battle-born, he certainly wasn't an option despite his good looks and charm. At least he was already here, so she could get this matter settled. "Come along, you two. You both have some explaining to do."

She glanced back when she reached the door to the prow. Alfhild scowled, and Gwendolyn looked nervous, but both of them followed right behind her. However, when she turned the handle it didn't move. She tried again more forcefully, but it still didn't move. Why was it locked? Was Jon having a tryst with one of the serving wenches? That was all she needed. She listened a moment and didn't hear anything, but it was a thick door. She rapped on the door sharply. "Jon. It's Daenerys. We need to talk."

A short while later Jon Battle-born opened the door. He leaned against the frame in an attempt to be nonchalant, but he didn't quite pull it off. "Well-met, Lady Targaryen. You're here early... Why are my sister and... her farmhand with you?"

Daenerys kept her temper in check as Jon dropped several notches in her esteem. It was really no business of hers who he slept with, but after his speech about poncy bards chasing serving maids she had expected better of him. "Chase whatever serving wench you tumbled out. As I said, we need to talk. You, your sister, myself, and Gwendolyn. Or we could have the discussion out here for all of Jorrvaskr to hear."

"Come on in." Jon backed up out of the doorway and waved them all in with a bow. "You'll find no serving wenches in here."

Daenerys walked on in and moved to stand by the desk. The bed was rumpled, which proved nothing as Jon had asked for a place to lie down. It was Jon's stoic face that gave him away. He was usually more open. He was obviously hiding something. In this case literally. She would bet gold that there was a girl under one of the beds or hiding in the closet. Under the circumstances Daenerys felt the girl deserved to hear what this was about as well. Daenerys directed a glare at Gwendolyn. "Tell him now, or I will."

Gwendolyn took a deep breath. "Jon, I'm pregnant with your child."

The high-pitched shriek of "What?!" from under the far bed came as no surprise whatsoever to Daenerys. However, the woman who rolled out and stomped toward Jon was a surprise. Olfina Grey-mane was certainly not a serving wench. She was in and out of Jorrvaskr frequently to assist her uncle Vignar. Olfina was also a warrior maid in her own right and sometimes trained with her uncle on the practice grounds. Daenerys suspected that Vignar was grooming her to be a Companion someday.

The Grey-manes and the Battle-borns were the two most powerful noble clans in Whiterun. From what she understood the two of them had been friendly rivals for generations. They competed against each other for position, but they had also intermarried in the past. Those bonds of kinship had kept the rivalry from getting out of control. Both clans were united in support of Whiterun and in freezing out other lesser clans. However, the Stormcloak rebellion had changed all that. Especially after the Imperials killed Thorald Grey-mane, the heir apparent to the Grey-mane clan. Now the two clans were openly hostile and there had been several brawls and one duel fought already. She wouldn't have guessed that Olfina and Jon were lovers, but apparently Jon wasn't that exclusive.

Olfina stomped over to Jon Battle-born and slapped him hard across the face. "So, you've been two-timing me with that peasant? How dare you! We're through. My family was right about you Battle-borns! I never want to see you again!"

She turned to leave, but Jon grabbed her wrist. "Funny that. 'I never want to see you again.' Those are the same words you said to me the one night I slept with her. Don't you remember? The night you heard your brother had died."

Olfina turned back. Her face was still angry, and she did not close the distance between them, but she didn't try to pull away either. "I was upset. We made up two days later. You obviously don't feel as I do as you didn't even wait a day before finding someone new."

"You weren't the only one who was upset. I went to see my sister. I did a lot of drinking and..." He shrugged. "Gwen was willing to help me forget. You don't get to throw me out and still own me."

Daenerys was as transfixed by the drama playing out as everyone else. Mentally, she apologized to Jon. Apparently, he wasn't as big a hypocrite and womanizer as she had thought. He was just guilty of letting his cock do his thinking for him - not all that unusual for a man.

Gwendolyn spoke up quietly. "What about me, Jon? There has been no one else. The baby is yours."

Alfhild slapped Gwendolyn. "Shut up. Your betters are talking. You got exactly what you wanted. Don't pretend to be the victim here. It's Jon that fell into your honey trap."

Gwendolyn bowed her head and sobbed.

"Enough, Alfhild! Strike her again and I strike you." Of all the actors in this mess, she disliked Alfhild the most, yet she was her employer. "We will discuss this as adults, not children." She looked back at Jon and Olfina. They hadn't moved from the positions, still standing far apart and still holding hands. "Let me cut through the crap. Jon, you and Olfina are lovers. Olfina, you told Jon that you didn't want to see him any longer. He slept with Gwendolyn. She's pregnant with Jon's child. Then Alfhild you hired me to beat up Gwendolyn until she agreed to take Dibella's tears – and Jon didn't know until right now. Have I left out anything important?"

"Yes!" insisted Alfhild. "She can't have his child. It's wrong! It goes against nature." She calmed a little. "And our father… Oh, Jon what have you done? Olfina? He might just disown you over this."

Daenerys set aside the comment about the Battle-borns disowning Jon to focus on the other statement. "You called this child unnatural before, but you still haven't explained why."

Alfhid glared at Gwendolyn. "Isn't it obvious? Look at them. Look at all of us. She's his sister! On the wrong side of the sheets, of course, but still his sister. Now, she's trying to do the same thing as her mother, get a nice pension for life for raising a Battle-born bastard – with her own brother."

Jon and Olfina dropped hands and made faces. Even Lydia recoiled. Daenerys took a moment to recall that incest was a taboo in Tamriel, just as it was on most of Planetos. However, she had grown up being told that she would wed her brother Viserys someday. He had told her often that she would bear his children. It hadn't been something she had been looking forward to, but it had been her future until he sold her to Khal Drogo.

"Gods. I didn't know." Jon was actually pale. "I simply didn't know." He looked at Gwendolyn. "You knew?"

Gwendolyn looked down. "I knew, but you don't feel like my brother, and I won't give up my child."

Olfina shook her head. "Jon, things were already impossible for us before. When word of this gets out, my parents will hate you even more."

Daenerys decided it was time to wade into this farce. "I'm not from Tamriel. In Westeros when a nobleman fathers a bastard, the mother is given some gold. If the noble is married, he'll probably send her to another hold to get her farther from his wife. I understand the Companions do much the same for serving wenches who turn up pregnant. Is that not what is done in Skyrim?"

Alfhild scowled. "It would be normally. That's why Gwendolyn has her own house on our farm. Her mother was given a cottage and a remittance, but to have her brother's child. She'll bring shame on the entire clan. You were supposed to handle this quietly, but you've dragged it all into the light."

"I will not force her to drink Dibella's tears." What a mess. "Why not just pay her off and send her away. Don't give her a single payment. She'll collect her remittance as long as she keeps her silence."

"I'll accept those terms," said Gwendolyn. "I don't want to bring shame to the family or to Jon."

"I don't like her being rewarded when she knew Jon was her brother. She knew exactly what she was doing when she slept with Jon, and I'm sure she was at her most fertile. Mother's blood will tell." Alfhild sighed. "But you're giving us no choice. Jon, you'll have to tell father. I won't do it. If I take it out of the funds for the farm, he'll spot it in the ledger books. I won't have him thinking I am stealing from the family."

Jon nodded. "I'll tell him. What will you say about Olfina?"

Olfina Grey-mane extracted her hand from Jon's and folded her arms. "You act like you're forgiven, Jon Battle-born."

Alfhild studied Olfina. "We weren't always enemies. Out of my respect for past friendships, I'll hold my tongue. Although I doubt that Olfina will hold hers."

Daenerys decided to step in. "So, it's settled. Jon will inform his parents of the child. Gwendolyn will get a remittance. Jon and Olfina can resolve their own issues."

There was sullen agreement all around, and they all started to file out.

"Olfina, stay." It was a spur of a moment decision, but maybe she could help a little, and help herself in the process. "You shouldn't be seen leaving with Jon Battle-born, and I would like a word with you."

Olfina nodded and waited behind as the Battle-born siblings departed. She obviously looked upset, but she waited patiently.

Daenerys broke the silence. "You love him." Daenerys held up a hand as Olfina started to speak. "That much is obvious. Whether love is enough for you to forgive him, you haven't decided yet. Nor will I tell you what to do. I just want to let you know that you should not take too long. I'm going to be leaving Whiterun soon. I need strong warriors and especially leaders. If you decide you want to be with him, then you should both come with me. Show your families that Battle-borns and Grey-manes can still work together for Skyrim."

Olfina frowned. She started to speak, and then paused. "Our parents would still disown us. They hate each other now."

"Would they really? I find it hard to believe that any Nord family would disown a son or daughter who signed up to fight dragons. Especially when I already have the support of the Stormcloaks, the Imperials, and Jarl Balgruuf. Is the prospect of fighting dragons truly less scary than telling your family?"

Olfina laughed. "Have you met my father? I will think on this. I'm not sure I can forgive Jon. Even if I forgive him, I'm not sure that I can trust him ever again."

"That is for you to decide." Although Daenerys was certain she would forgive Jon. She had seen the way the two held hands even after the revelation.

"Lady Targaryen?" asked Olfina. "Why do you care?"

Daenerys shrugged. "Because I could use two good officers, and this will help mend the Battle-born/Grey-mane feud. Surely you agree that the feud has gotten out of hand?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll think about it." Olfina gave a slight curtsey and left.

Daenerys stayed in the room a moment after Olfina left. What she had said was true. She did need good officers, and the Battle-born/Grey-mane feud was needlessly bitter. However, that wasn't the real reason. It was silly in a way that she just wanted to help two lovers find happiness. In the grand scheme of things, the happiness of two people wasn't all that important. However, the last time she'd thought that way, she'd burned down a city to save 'the future generations'. She needed the little things, like saving the orphan girl, Lucia, and hopefully getting these two lovers together.

She looked over to Lydia. "Do you think she and Jon will accept?"

Her housecarl smiled. "I don't know, my thane. I pray to Mara that they will."

Daenerys smiled. She didn't really believe in the gods that much, but she offered a little prayer to Mara, that the two of them would get back together. It couldn't hurt.