I had such a good day of writing today for the first time in a while. Thank you England for getting through to the Nations League Finals for the motivation!
I've decided to focus on this story until it's finished, hence the update for this rather than the Lannister story! 10 chapters are left after this, so ideally I can fly through them and get to the end soon to give everybody another completed story.
We introduce House Roxton in this chapter, and as the only notes in official canon about them are from the Dance of Dragons war, I'm going to use some things from a Game of Thrones Role Play wiki.
We're at the end of Season 5 with this chapter as well, so we're almost into the end game!
I own nothing but the OC's.
As word from Eastwatch by the Sea came to Castle Black detailing that Stannis Baratheon had arrived with a few hundred men to take the black, Jon persuaded Ygritte to go and join the other Free Folk settling in the gift. He did so with a heavy heart, but already rumours had spread that the Lord Commander lay with a woman each night, and he had to set an example to the rest of his men.
Signing a pre-written letter for King Durran explaining that Stannis had arrived, Jon looked up as the horn blew from atop the Wall.
"Riders under the stag of Baratheon!" A voice called.
"Stannis." Jon muttered. "Olly, my sword and cloak."
The young steward gathered Jon's equipment, and the two of them waited in the fairly heavy snowfall at the wooden barrier by the Lord Commander's chambers as the gate creaked open, allowing for the hundreds of men to come streaming into the castle. Jon noticed two mounted men. One in black Kingsguard armour with yellow detailing, and another man wearing a small pin in the shape of a hand, and Jon presumed him to be Stannis Baratheon.
The young Stark bastard walked down the steps to the courtyard and stopped in front of Stannis Baratheon. "Lord Hand. I am Jon Snow. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"Jon Snow." Stannis greeted, lowering himself down from is horse. "I bring you plenty of salted meats, vegetables, and 538 men to join the Night's Watch."
Jon was surprised at the numbers. "Your gifts are well received, Lord Stannis. Please, join me in my solar. Your men shall be settled in by our First Ranger, Ser Alliser Thorne."
Stannis grimaced as he recognised the name but nodded. "Very well. Ser Gendry, join me." He ordered.
Jon looked at the other man with Stannis and was slightly shocked. He looked older of course, but Gendry looked almost exactly like Durran had all those years ago in Winterfell. "Ser Gendry? Are you any relation to the King?" Jon asked.
"His brother…" Gendry began.
"Bastard brother. Ser Gendry Durrande" Stannis corrected, pointing out his new name. "But a fine warrior and knighted by King Durran himself."
Jon nodded his understanding, offering his hand to Gendry. "Well met Ser."
Gendry took the hand and shook it. "Gendry is fine, Lord Commander. I'm still getting used to my new title."
"It will give you standing in the ranks of the Watch." Stannis told his nephew.
This surprised Jon. "You're here to take the black?"
Gendry nodded. "When I heard about what was coming I knew I had to do my part. This way I can be useful for my brother, and I'm not in the way in case some Lords decide they don't like that Lannister blood is on the throne."
Jon could understand that, having been around Catelyn Stark enough to realise that she thought him a threat to Robb when they were younger. "Well I'm sure we can find you a role here Gendry. Come, let us get out of the cold."
The three men walked up to Jon's solar, and Olly got them all drinks and some food.
"Your men will be a valuable help, Lord Stannis." Jon told him. "The ones that have military backgrounds I'll have Ser Alliser rush them through training and ideally we can begin to open more castles along the Wall."
"Which castles are already open?" Stannis asked.
Jon got a map of the Wall out and pointed each one out. "Castle Black and Eastwatch as you know, as well as the Shadow Tower in the West. I've only reopened Greyguard this year, but with the men you've provided I can get skeleton crews in every castle along the Wall."
Stannis nodded. "That is good news, the King will be delighted to hear it."
"It's all thanks to him." Jon shrugged.
"And what of the Wildlings?" Gendry asked.
Jon stopped briefly. "The Free folk, as they prefer, they're settling well in the Gift."
"We left Mance Rayder at Eastwatch, it sounds daft saying it, but I trust him to keep them under control." Stannis told Jon.
Jon nodded. "Mance is a good man, he values his people's lives above any hatred that both the free folk and the Night's Watch once shared and that's made it easier for them to adapt to the new order. There are still some that believe I am in the wrong for agreeing to this, however." He sighed.
Stannis pursed his lips. "In command, you will always have those that question you, those that wish to usurp your power for themselves. It happens everywhere no matter what level of rulership you find yourself. All you can do is what you know to be right, and those that you lead are obligated to follow that. If not, then show them exactly who is in command."
Jon quickly smirked. "That's almost what the late Maester Aemon told me just before he died."
Stannis paused at the comparison to a Targaryen but relaxed as much as he could, realising that it was a compliment. "Well, they had their madness in that family, but the Queen proves that there were some great Targaryen's in the world. Maester Aemon I'm sure will be sorely missed."
"He will." Jon sighed, before standing up. "But we cannot dwell in the past. Come, Lord Stannis. Allow me to show you our full operation so that the King is fully informed. We should see about getting Ser Gendry a role here too."
"He's a good smith." Stannis nodded.
Jon looked surprised. "Is that so? I've never known a knight that smithed before."
Gendry looked slightly shy. "I've been a smith all my life, it was only when I met King Durran that I started to train to be a knight."
Jon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Our current smith lost his apprentice in the battle against the free folk. He only has one arm, so head over to him and help him out for now if you're up for making more weapons."
Gendry smiled. "I'd love that, Lord Commander."
"Your one arm smith." Stannis began. "What is his name?"
"Donal Noye." Jon shrugged. Stannis almost smirked.
"I know him. He was caught in the siege of Storm's End and lost his arm. A good man, I was saddened to lose him." Stannis admitted.
"Then let's start our tour at the smithy." Jon said, opening the door for the two Baratheon men, leading them out into the cold.
Riding into Winterfell this time was a much better experience for Robb Stark. The castle was just about repaired with only the final touches to be made, and of course there were no bodies to be cut down. The Stark lords mind was everywhere, however, with the information gained from his stay in the Neck eating away at him.
He had seen Sansa and his Mother briefly on their way down the Kingsroad and had spent half a day with her, catching himself up on what had happened in his home since he had been away, and Sansa had gleefully chatted about his son, Brandon. The words had made him rush his party back to Winterfell, and his fast journey back from the Neck meant that there was no procession there to greet him, but Robb was ok with that. It was fairly late into the evening and the Stark Lord was happier to just observe life go on as usual in Winterfell, although as soon as he was spotted people bowed and curtseyed towards him.
Leaving his horse at the stables Robb hurried himself to the Great Keep and through to the Lord's chambers. Opening his bedroom door, he stopped in the doorway and stared in. Roslin was sat on the bed, playing with a wooden Direwolf to keep a baby entertained. His baby.
A tear fell from one of his eyes at the sight before him as both Roslin and baby Brandon stared at him. Roslin's face formed into a huge grin at the sight of him. "Lord Stark." She said happily.
"My Lady." Robb managed, before walking forwards and kneeling before the bed. "I… I'm sorry I've been so long. I missed so much."
Roslin looked back at their son. "We know, the things you've had to do… they are important."
"Family should come before that." Robb said.
Roslin smiled. "Your duty is to the entire North, Lord Stark. You couldn't avoid helping the Night's Watch, just as you couldn't hand a meeting with the King over to one of your Lords."
Robb nodded, just as Brandon started babbling, and shoving the wooden Direwolf into his mouth. Letting out a laugh, he held his hand out to stroke his son's cheek, only for Brandon to grow uneasy and whining for his Mother.
"It's ok Brandon." Roslin cooed. "This is your Father." He held the baby's hand in one of her own, before taking one of Robb's and slowly placing them together. The baby still wasn't too sure, but allowed Robb to hold his hand.
The next morning Robb was forced to be the Lord again rather than just a Father as Maester Luwin met him at breakfast. A brief reunion with Arya was cut short as all manner of news from the North required his attention.
"Karhold is still complaining about the Wildling arrangements then." Robb sighed. "I'll write to Lord Karstark myself. What of the Greatjon?"
Luwin shook his head. "Last Hearth has been quiet, My Lord."
Robb frowned. "Have you any parchment?" Luwin nodded, as Robb took that and a quill, and quickly scribbled out two notes, fixing his seal to the letters. "Copy this out and send it to Last Hearth. I want two sent immediately so I know that Lord Umber will get it." Robb handed one letter over, before holding the other one out. "And this one goes to Jon at the Wall."
Luwin took it, and the colour in his face drained from shock. "My Lord? This…"
"Is all true." Robb told him. "Send them now, Luwin."
"My Lord." Luwin bowed his acceptance and almost ran from the Great Hall. Arya looked up from her sausage, intrigued.
"What was that about?" She asked.
"Arya." Roslin reprimanded. Arya just shrugged.
"It's ok My Lady." Robb said softly. "This involves Arya."
Arya groaned at that. "You're not marrying me off again are you, I'm not even been to Moat Cailin again yet!"
Robb smirked at her annoyance. "No, my deal with Lord Walder remains. This is about Bran and Rickon."
Arya's face darkened, as Roslin fell silent too, her eyes widened in horror. "Have you found Theon? He had better be alive." Arya growled. "I want to kill him myself."
"You'll be behind me in that line." Robb told her. "No, Theon is still in the wind, but his crimes are less than we thought. He didn't kill Bran and Rickon, they're out there somewhere."
He watched his sister not know how to react, opening and closing her mouth several times. "What?" Was her only question. "We buried them."
"They weren't Bran, nor Rickon." Robb told her. "Bran was seen at the Wall and Rickon was on his way to Last Hearth. I'm going to send out a party soon to Last Hearth, but we can't go Beyond the Wall." He added the last part with a hint of venom in his voice.
"Why not!" Arya exclaimed loudly. "He's our brother!"
"And an army of dead men are likely between him and us!" Robb roared back, causing Brandon to let out a whine at the sudden noise. Robb apologised before collecting his emotions and leaning back in his chair, running his hand through his curls. "The dead are coming for us, Arya." He said softly. "I can't afford to send men off on a wild goose chase when we don't know where Bran went. He may be dead."
"We can't just abandon him though." Arya snapped.
"I will never abandon my family." Robb told her. "But I am Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North as well, I can't waste our resources North of the Wall when the Long Night is coming again. I will get Rickon home though, that I swear to you, on the Old Gods and the New."
Chills went through the room at Robb's promise, but Arya nodded her agreement. Standing up, she straightened her leather training costume and said. "If I may be excused."
Robb just nodded knowing that, while she agreed, he had to keep an eye on her. "That didn't go well." He sighed.
"Is it true, really true?" Roslin whispered, terrified. "I always thought the Long Night was a Northern superstition."
"Jon believed, and he saw them. Samwell Tarly saw them. The Long Night is real, and it's coming for us all." Robb said grimly.
A few hours after the ravens flew, Robb made his way to the crypts. Stopping in front of the effigy of his Father, he stood solemnly for a moment in reflection.
"I don't know how you found it all so easy." Robb sighed. "Everything is escalating Father, and I don't know how to keep everybody safe. Bran's lost, Rickon is lost. Arya is… well Arya. I need you, Father. I need you to tell me what to do." He laughed at that last statement. "Listen to me, three years as Lord of Winterfell and I still sound like a child, when at my age you silently committed treason against King Robert." He looked over at his Aunt Lyanna's statue. "For family though. For House Stark."
Walking over towards the statue, he said a silent prayer to the Old Gods for their mercy and went to the back of her. Running his hands along the stone, the words of Howland Reed rang in his ears.
'The statue is the key. Find the sigil My Lord and you'll know I speak true.'
He found it on the small of Lyanna's back. The sigil of the three-headed dragon carved into the back of the statue, no bigger than Robb's thumbprint. Pressing it, he heard a noise from behind the statue, where the stone tomb sat. Taking a torch, he illuminated the area behind the statue, and saw a stone drawer open at the bottom.
"Robb?" A voice came from towards the entrance to the crypts. Arya's voice.
"Here!" He called out, struggling to open the heavy drawer by himself. "Give me a hand here!"
"What are you doing!" Arya whispered harshly.
"Figuring out the truth." Robb replied. "You know I went to see Howland Reed before coming back to Winterfell?"
"Yes…" Arya said warily.
"That was because I needed to know what happened in Dorne when Father went there in the war." Robb explained. "It turns out that Rhaegar Targaryen had Dark Sister, the Valyrian Steel sword, all along. But didn't by the time he came to fight at the Trident."
Arya was working it out in her head. "So, you think he gave it to Lyanna? Why? Why would he give her such a sword when he kidnapped her?"
"Did he?" Robb asked. Arya was confused. "Who told us what happened?"
"Maester Luwin…"
"And was he there?" Robb asked. Arya fell silent. "Two men left Dorne alive that day, and only one is alive now."
"Father wouldn't lie." Arya said defiantly.
"And he never did." Robb told her. "He always kept quiet, never speaking about Dorne to anybody, never telling us who Jon's Mother was or where he came from…"
Arya's eyes widened as she looked back up to the statue of Lyanna. "No…"
"Help me, and we'll find out." Robb said, gripping the stone as he began to tug. Arya helped him and they soon both fell backwards as the stone drawer scraped open. It was fairly shallow, and only held three objects. Robb pulled out the book and opened it to a random page. Reading it, he sighed. "It's her diary. Aunt Lyanna's diary. She was pregnant."
"The harp." Arya said, shocked, half ignoring him. "Aunt Lyanna cried when she heard him play at Harrenhal. This is the harp." Robb looked up from the book as Arya dragged out a black metallic harp with ruby dragons snaking down the pillar. He looked back in the stone drawer and took a sharp intake of breath.
"There." He said stoically. Arya put the harp down and reached back in, pulling out a slender longsword, wrapped in the Targaryen banner. Unwrapping the blade, the famed flame pommel and ruby on the golden hilt made the name of the blade obvious. "This is it. Dark Sister."
"How…" Arya was lost for words.
"Jon." Robb said, flicking through the diary. "Father went to Dorne and came back with Aunt Lyanna's body and Jon. That's not a coincidence." He found a page that left him lost for words. "They were married…"
"What?" Arya asked, snatching the book. "But… that means…"
"Jon is Rhaegar Targaryen's trueborn son." Robb said, the information truly flooding in. "He isn't our brother."
"Yes, he is." Arya snapped, standing up angrily. "Jon will ALWAYS be our brother! I don't care who fucked who to make him, he was raised our brother, he always was our brother!"
She stormed off towards the exit at the outburst, leaving Robb sat alone by the torchlight reading the diary to try and piece together everything that happened to his Aunt.
Durran had come to the conclusion that childbirth was something he was only willing to be a part of when it was his wife going through it. Thankfully, as Daenerys was with Maester Fernar, the man that had patched Jaime up, assisting Nymeria Sand with giving birth, he had been called to the Throne Room as a small party from House Roxton arrived in the Capital. His entire Kingsguard bar Ser Balon was in the room either side of the Throne.
20 men bearing the golden chains on a cyan banner of House Roxton entered the Throne Room and they made their way towards the Throne. Durran sat forwards, making sure his ornate crown stayed atop his head as the newcomers all kneeled before him.
"Stand." Durran told them, as the men did as bid.
"Your Grace, may I present Ser Jonothor Roxton of House Roxton. Thirdborn son of Lord Darnis Roxton." Maester Hothar announced.
"Ser Jonothor." Durran greeted. "Welcome to King's Landing."
"It is an honour to be hear, Your Grace." Ser Jonothor bowed his head slightly. "My Father was surprised to hear from you, but he sends his regards, and he reaffirms that he is yours to command."
"Yes, Bound by Oath are your words, are they not?" Durran remembered.
"They are, Your Grace." Jonothor nodded. "Which is the reason I am here. I have been granted the honour of wielding our ancient family sword, Orphan-Maker for the coming Winter."
This caught Durran's full attention. "You have the sword?" He asked, standing up. Ser Jonothor nodded, unsheathing the blade and holding it horizontally in his outstretched hands. Durran walked down the steps, followed by Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan who had their hands on their blades, as the King went to hold the blade. "May I?" Jonothor nodded, allowing Durran to take the blade. The handle was a dark brown, with a silver thin, rounded guard and pommel design showing the chains of House Roxton. The blade itself was the darkest steel Durran had ever seen. "An extremely beautiful blade."
"Thank you, Your Grace." Jonothor said. "It is our pride and joy."
"Rightfully so." Durran nodded. "And now that it is back out in the open, it shall see some valuable use. Valyrian Steel blades will be extremely important in the next battles."
"If I may, Your Grace." Jonothor began nervously. Durran nodded at him to continue. "Is it really true? The letter asking for men for the wall seemed rather fanciful. My Mother was sure it was silly Northern superstitions."
Durran chuckled darkly and handed the man his sword back. "I'll admit, I've not seen them myself, but I know the men that have. Lord Stark believes enough to personally come and tell me, and the words of the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch are haunting. They are not men to make up fanciful tales for no reason."
Jonothor gulped. "My Father was right to answer the call then. Whenever he was questioned he reminded us all of our words. He has requested I join the Night's Watch and I agree with him. All of us here have volunteered for the Wall, unless your request for us to come to King's Landing was to join Your Grace personally."
Durran was slightly surprised. "Valyrian Steel is the key to defeating the White Walkers, that and obsidian seems to be the only substance capable of killing them. We only have one sword at the Wall made of Valyrian Steel so if you wish to join the Watch, then allow me to provide you with a ship from the Royal Navy. The sacrifice your oath will bring will never be forgotten by myself, nor the court."
Jonothor looked proud at the statement. "It is my honour to serve you in this manner, Your Grace."
Durran offered his hand out, which was duly shaken by each of the twenty men in turn. "Ser Podrick will show you to the kitchens for some food and to your chambers. For as long as you like, you are guests of House Baratheon." He said afterwards. Durran noticed a guard dressed in the Baratheon yellow leather armour in the gallery speaking with his Mother, and quickly wrapped up the meeting, allowing the Roxton men to leave the Throne Room before joining them. "What's going on."
Cersei nodded to the guard. "The baby has been born." He announced. "But there's a problem."
Durran rushed over to the room that Nymeria had been moved too and found the door was open. Gingerly entering the darkened room, he noticed Daenerys holding a small bundle.
"A girl." She told him softly. "A healthy Valyrian baby girl."
Durran looked down to see a pale baby with a small silver tuft of hair on her head. "Then what was the problem?" Dany nodded over at the bed, where Maester Fernar was walking away from the prone form of Nymeria, his robes covered in blood.
"The placenta seems to have torn away too early." The Maester said. "There's nothing I can do now, she has moments."
Durran couldn't even bring himself to be relieved at the last remnants of House Martell's demise. He walked over to the bed and knelt before the dying woman. "I'm sorry." Was all he could say.
Nymeria let out a pained grin. "She will live. Elia will live and once she finds out your role in Dorne's destruction, you shall rue the day you killed us all."
Durran tried not to let his anger cloud him, and softly said with a hint of steel in his voice. "She will be brought up as a true Targaryen with her cousins. Be thankful I do not blame children for their parent's crimes as you did. Go forth to the afterlife knowing that she shall be brought up knowing your crimes."
Nymeria's eyes slowly shut as her breath left her. Durran himself closed his eyes and prayed to the Stranger to be kind to Nymeria as he himself couldn't be in life. Getting to his feet, he re-joined Dany.
"Her poisonous words won't harm the child." Dany vowed. "Elia…"
"No." Durran interrupted. "I'm not naming her after a Martell. Give her a Targaryen name. Whichever one you like."
"Nymeria named her Elia." Dany reminded him.
"Nymeria was a traitor." Durran shook his head. "No, she wants that name to spite our reign and I won't allow it. Choose a name of your own House for the baby."
"As you wish, husband." Dany agreed. She looked down at the baby and stroked her chick. "Rhaena. Rhaena Targaryen."
Durran nodded, kissing Dany on the cheek. "I'll go and see to Elaenor if you like while you sort arrangements out for Rhaena."
Dany nodded. "I'll sort things out for my niece, go and see to our daughter."
Nodding, Durran turned and left the room eager to get away from the product of Viserys and Nymeria Sand. While it was true he didn't blame the baby for her parents' actions, for now all he could see in her was Viserys' smug face at their parlay, and it wasn't fair on the child to have him react angrily to her.
It had been a week after Stannis had arrived at Castle Black and so far, the new recruits had been separated out swiftly. Gendry having settled into assisting Donal Noye extremely well.
Unfortunately, having so many new recruits meant that it was a necessity to open the other castles along the Wall much faster than he had originally planned, and even though it was extremely late at night, Jon was signing what seemed like dozens of papers letting both Robb, Durran, and the other commanders of Night's Watch castles know that these castles were to soon be inhabited.
Out of nowhere, his door burst open. "Lord Commander!"
"Olly? It's late…" Jon began.
"One of the Wildlings you brought back. He says he knows your Uncle Benjen!" Olly began. Jon stopped everything in shock, and slowly stood up.
"Are you sure he's talking about Benjen?" He asked.
Olly nodded. "Says he was First Ranger. Says he knows where to find him."
That was enough for Jon. Picking up Longclaw in order to persuade the man to freely give up the information, he rushed out of the room and down the steps where Ser Alliser was waiting for him.
"Man says he saw your Uncle at Hardhome before the attack." Ser Alliser said.
"He could be lying." Jon doubted, not wanting to get his hopes up.
"Could be." Alliser agreed. "There are ways to find out."
"Where is he?" Jon asked, determined.
Alliser pointed beyond a group of Black Brothers. "Over there."
Pushing through the men and preparing to unleash his Northern anger upon the Wildling for keeping the information, he halted. There was no man in front of him, just a wooden cross with the word traitor carved into it.
The cogs began to turn in Jon's mind. It was a coup, the fact that Ser Alliser was involved guaranteed that. Unsheathing Longclaw, Jon swivelled around ready to fight, only for the breath to be knocked out of him as soon as he had turned, as Ser Alliser's knife found its way into Jon's chest.
Gasping and stepping backwards, Jon felt the knife be ripped out of him and his tunic dampen as blood poured from the wound. "Traitor…" He gasped.
"You're the traitor, Lord Snow." Alliser mocked. "Allying with our enemies, allowing them through the Wall to fuck us from behind! This is to protect us, this is for the Watch."
"The Walkers…" Jon began.
"We'll fight them off too." Ser Alliser said confidently. Jon shook his head.
"You've doomed us all." He wheezed. Another man stepped forwards with a knife that Jon recognised as Othell Yarwick. He brought Longclaw up to defend himself before swiping out with the Valyrian Steel blade, catching Yarwick in the stomach and spilling his guts to the floor. More knifes came forward then, as Jon swung Longclaw with all he had, managing to kill a few more men before a knife found his knee and he fell to the floor. That was it. Longclaw fell from his hands as knifes entered his front, his sides, his back, stabbing after stabbing. In the end, Jon could barely feel the blades. His eyes began to close as he thought of Ygritte's flame kissed hair.
'Avenge me, my love.' Jon thought, as consciousness left him for a final time.
Well the snow stained in blood has come true, rest in peace Jon Snow! I always found it odd how he didn't have his sword with him in canon, so with him having more to live for in this story with Ygritte, Robb, Arya and Sansa all known to be alive, I felt he'd always be prepared to defend himself. Unfortunately, just too many people wanted him dead. Melisandre went to the Wall with Stannis in disguise, but was she one of those being sent to a new castle or is she still at Castle Black?
It was a rather heavy chapter this one, with lots of focus on Robb meeting his son and discovering the truth behind Lyanna's fate. Of course Ned would hide the proof with Lyanna, many writers have done similar, I just hope mine is innovative enough that you all enjoy it. Also in the North we have Robb starting the search for Rickon, of course not realising that his Brother is in the castle of his House's greatest enemies.
And a new Targaryen is born, with Nymeria dying in childbirth. She will grow up with Dany feeding her the Baratheon version of history so shouldn't be a problem. Providing enough people survive the final fight of course.
Again, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I shall see you all next time, where Sansa arrives for her marriage and things escalate at the Wall.
Reviews:
Hail King Cerion: Some interesting ideas, although your snow stained in blood is wrong. That's Jon being brutally slain here.
Lightningscar: We'll find the answer to Roose/Ramsay next time. I'm glad you agree with them both. Even though Dany is likely excited by another Targaryen, she's a bit weary of another Viserys and her own immediate family's position so doesn't want to think of it. Luckily, Dany doesn't understand some of the more powerful beings in the realm which is why she only thinks of Varys. Bran playing the game is such a fun thought and an interesting idea for a story. Not in this one though, although his story is a real rollercoaster ride. You were right with the Jon prediction!