Ned
The boy was gone and Ned didn't know what to do. At first he thought that Jon left, because he asked him to join the Night's Watch, but now he knew the truth. The boy lied to him and stole away a girl from the nearby brothel in Wintertown.
The boy's actions are now the talk of the castle. Day in and day out he had to hear Cat's complains, yet Ned continued to send out one rider after another to search for the boy. He needed to find him, to ease the guilt raging inside his chest.
Lya, I failed miserably.
He should have known better, but now it is too late. The boy is far away and all he has left is a broken home.
The King was wants a quick departure, this wife is angry with him for worrying about the boy named his bastard, Robb is demanding answers. Sansa is dreaming about her betrothed, Arya is throwing one temper tantrum after another, Rickon seems utterly confused by Jon's disappearances and Benjen is pressuring to tell Cat the truth.
The boy probably heard our fight, Benjen suggested not long ago.
Ned disagreed with Benjen, it is the only explanation for Jon's behaviour. Not long after the boy's disappearance, Ned sent out men to inquire about his behaviour in the last day before his departure. The answers he received confirmed Benjen's suspicions.
I saw the boy carrying something from the crypts, one of the guards told Ned no long ago. I saw him in company of a girl, a woman from Wintertown told Ser Roderik.
It didn't make it any easier for him to accept the current situation. The boy he swore to protect left because he discovered Ned's lie.
"Father?" Robb's voice called him back to the present. "You called us here."
"Ned," Benjen added and closed the door behind him and Cat. His wife was utterly silent, her blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "Your son asked you a question."
Benjen's voice was brimming with subdued anger. It told him that his brother is blaming him for Jon's disappearance.
"I heard you," he replied and turned around to face his lies. "I called you here to speak about Jon…," he trailed off.
Relief showed on Robb's face.
"Did you find out about his whereabouts?" his son asked, but he was forced to crush his hopes.
"No," he replied. "But I know why he let…it has to do with his mother."
"Why can't you tell us where he went if you know that his disappearance has to do with his mother? Robb asked, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "Shouldn't you know about your whereabouts?"
Ned swallowed hard and felt Cat's gaze resting on him.
She asked him numerous times about the boy's parentage, but every time he refused to answer her questions.
It is time to reveal the truth, no matter how much it pained him to do it.
"Jon's mother died in childbirth," he said, unable to reveal the full truth at once. "I am sure he is aware of this fact…he probably overheard an argument between myself and your Uncle Benjen."
"Argument?" Cat asked. "What kind of argument?"
Benjen didn't hesitate to give her the blunt truth.
"Our argument concerned the boy's future," he explained and met Cat's gaze. "I refused to take the boy to the Night's Watch."
Cat's features were awash with anger, but she kept her composure.
"I see," she said. "But that doesn't justify the boy's actions. He shamed us all…," she continued, but Ned couldn't help but to correct her.
"Cat…I doubt the boy left because of the girl," he explained. Every word burned on his tongue. "He left because he found out the truth…he found out that I am not his father."
Cat's eyes widened in shock, her face pale like the parchment Maester Luwin uses to write his letters.
"What did you say?" she asked. "The boy is not your son…"
"No," he confirmed. "The boy was never my son. He was my sister's child…I promised her to protect him."
Deadly silence followed and Ned averted his gaze. He was unable to endure her reaction.
"Prince Rhaegar!" Robb exclaimed and bridged the distance. Ned felt him pulling on his shoulder and turned around to face his son. Cat remained silent. "He is Prince Rhaegar's son…gods…he raped her…," Robb stuttered, but Ned cut him off.
"No," He corrected his son."Rhaegar didn't rape her. Lyanna was always stubborn…she went freely and doomed herself with her mindless act. She was so afraid and I promised her to protect her boy. Robert would have smothered Jon in his crib if he knew the truth. Making him my bastard was the only way to protect him. I didn't relish…," he tried to explain his reasons, but Cat was shaking her head in disbelief.
Her face was flushed, tears shining in her eyes.
"Didn't relish it?" she asked, her voice brimming with bitterness. "You took me for a fool…you took us all for fools. Did you ever consider the danger you put us in?"
"Aye," he agreed, his voice growing softer. "That is why I didn't tell you. I didn't do it out of cruelty…," he tried to explain, but Cat showed him no mercy.
"You lied to me, because you didn't trust me!" she threw back, her voice raw with emotions. "Did think I would hand over a helpless babe?"
"I never thought…," he stuttered. Surprisingly, it was Benjen who came to his rescue.
"We cannot live in the past," he said and touched Robb's shoulder. "Jon made his choice, but I felt you deserve to know the truth."
"You were right to correct me for insulting the bastard," Cat said at last, tears running down her cheeks. "He has more honour than you…he saw how much danger he posed to our family and left."
"He is no bastard," Ned corrected quietly. "Prince Rhaegar…he married Lyanna."
"Gods!" Robb muttered. "That means…," he continued, but Cat wanted to hear nothing of it.
"It matters not. Nobody can ever know the truth," she insisted, her blue eyes burning into Ned's.
"Now it is even more essential that you go to King's Landing," she explained. "There can be no doubt about our loyalties. Do you understand?"
Ned understood, though he had wanted to refuse the King numerous times.
He swallowed hard and lowered his head in acceptance.
"I understand."
…
Dany
The Temple of Light in Volantis was massive, but the Titan of Braavos proved even more impressive. Looming over them was a massive giant of stone, who greeted the approaching ships.
Suddenly, a loud roar echoed in her ears, loud enough to wake even a distant ship.
"Ah it is good to see my old friend!" the Captain remarked, his pipe in hand. Dany liked talking to him and heard his entire life story. Thirty years he had been ferrying lumber and pelt between White Harbour and Braavos. No wife or child was waiting for him, only the sea. At least that was what he claimed, though Dany didn't quite believe him.
"Is this giant always this loud?" Jon asked and covered his ears to the roaring sound. "How often does it happen?"
The Captian laughed cheerfully.
"Three times a day, and whenever a ship approaches the harbour. Better get used to it, my boy."
"Aye," Jon replied and frowned at the Giant. He was no longer garbed in his pelted cloak, but wore a simple white tunic, dark breeches and his worn-out riding boots.
The proceedings that followed took all morning, the city hardly visible behind the thick clouds of fog covering it like a mantle of white dust.
First they had to pass Chequy Port where two tedious custom officers inspected their holds. The inspection went smoothly until one of the custom officers spotted Ghost and decided to spark a heated conversation. Left and right, up and down their hands moved as the Captain and the custom officer engaged in heated discussions. Finally, the Captain was able to convince the man and they were allowed to pass.
Yet it was only the beginning. Next they docked at place called Ragman's Harbor. It was a port meant for foreign ships and much different than White Harbour. The smell of dirt, sweat and poverty lingered in her nose as they made their way along the cobbled street leading along the port. Everywhere she looked she found porters, mummers, brewers, beggars and whores. The smell, the noise and the amount of people cast a stunned look on Jon's face. He looked like a little boy left alone in a foreign place.
Dany felt only relief. Here she is safe, at least for now.
Jon frowned, his face pale like the mist hovering over the city.
She moved closer, Ghost trailing behind them and garnering surprised looks from the passing Braavosi.
One girl, dressed in yellow silk moved closer, but backed away fearfully when she noticed the wolf's ruby eyes.
"Ghost!" Jon commanded and whistled."To me!"
Quickly, the wolf moved to his side and stroked his furred ear.
"We should search for a tavern," she added quietly, discouraged by his ill-mood. "Tomorrow, we can explore the city."
"Aye," he agreed, his dark eyes sweeping over the port. Along the street they found several inns and taverns, some of them carrying descriptive names like Happy Port, Satin Palace, the House of the Seven Lamps and many more. "But we have to be careful. We can't afford to waste too much coin."
"Don't fret," assured him gently. "I learned how to haggle in my Mistress' service."
Thus the evening passed as they moved from tavern to tavern to compare the prices.
Now and then she took the time to take in her surroundings. Maybe she knew this particular corner? Maybe her brother took her here to watch the ships? Or maybe it was all a dream, something she imagined to paint a past for herself.
It didn't matter. Braavos was the safest place for someone like her.
It was late evening when they finally decided to return to Happy Port. It was a brothel, but the price was good and the meal was for free, though Jon seemed to dislike it when the girls started to swarm around like bees.
For Dany this place felt like home, though she would have never admitted it openly.
They ate in silence, their meal consisting of fresh oysters, grilled fish and strange vegetables. One of the girls called it sea spinach, a dish only known in Braavos.
Dany thanked her for her kindness and slipped her an extra coin, though it was her own money, stolen from her Master's hidden stash.
"Where did you get the coin from?" Jon asked her later as they settled down for sleep. Jon slept across the room, his bed made of hay and wool. His cloak was thrown around his shoulders and his his few belongings stacked against the wall. Among it was a box made of dark wood and covered in beautiful gilded carvings of dragons. Not that she has ever seen a real dragon, but her brother liked to tell her stories about them.
"Dany!" Jon called out to her. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Aye," she confirmed and nodded her head. "The coin…it belonged to my Master…I stole it."
The smile hushing over his lips surprised her.
"Well, bad for him, but good for us," he declared, before lying down on his bed. Dany wanted to ask him about the box, but his weary expression stopped her.
I will ask him later, she told herself and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Ghost was not far, lying sprawled between Dany and Jon, his red rubies eyes glinting in the dimly-lit room like two polished rubies.
Silence spread between them as Dany tried to sleep, the noises of the city reaching through the thin walls.
She tossed and turned, Jon's back turned to her as if he was determined to avoid her. At least that was her impression.
Even his sword was there, lying not far from his grasp as if he expected a nightly assault. On the ship they shared a cabin and she couldn't help but to notice his discomfort whenever she slept close to him.
At times she expected him to put the sword between them like the knights do in the tales to keep the maids pure.
The thought was ridiculous, but made her smile. Jon was no knight and she was no maid.
Yet she was unable to keep her mouth shut.
"Jon!" she called out his name. She was sure that he was still awake, by the way his hand was grazing over the pommel of his sword. "Do you regret coming here?"
"What?" he asked and sat up. Then he turned around and rubbed his eyes. "What did you say?"
"You look sad," she replied and met his gaze.
"My sadness has nothing to do with you," he assured her and brushed his locks out of his face. "Do you recall the sword fighters we saw tonight?"
His words confused her, but then she recalled the fabulously dressed men sparring against each other on the open street.
"Aye, I recall them."
"Their swords…I gifted my little sister a similar sword…small and nimble, meant for a girl's hand. She would love it here…that is why I am sad."
She understood what he meant, even though she had only flimsy memories of her brother.
"I am sure you will see her again," she assured him.
Finally, a smile showed on his lips.
"I hope so," he replied.
…
Jon
They searched every part of the city. From island to island they marched, searching for a house matching Dany's description: three-storied house with a red door and a lemon tree.
At first it didn't bother him all too much. He loved exploring the city. Every island promised new adventures and foreign sights. There was the Island of Gods, located at the center of the city and housing hundreds of different shrines and temples dedicated to every known god.
Dany knew all their names and spent half the day educating him about them. Jon knew only the Seven and the Old Gods Lord Stark's ancestors worshipped. The Seven were always foreign to him, maybe because he associated them with Lady Stark. The Old Gods he followed because they were his father's gods.
Yet Lord Stark is not his father any longer, though he still thought of him as such. The betrayal stung deep, but he was still a man who cast away his honour to protect him when he could have easily handed him to the King.
It made him wonder if Prince Rhaegar worshipped the Seven?
It was a silly thought, but he couldn't help but to think like that when he saw all these temples dedicated to so many different gods. The sheer number was mindboggling to him, but for Dany it seemed normal.
She gave him all their names. There was the Temple of Light, the Tempel of the Moonsingers, the House of Black and White, the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea and many more, some even unknown to his bookwise travelling companion.
"All these temples…utter madness!" he muttered to himself as they made their way along another cobbled alley. The buildings here were all decorated with smooth tiled stones. Marble, Jon thought, though he knew little about such things. Yet it as not hard to see that this was a place meant for the more fortunate members of society.
As they passed he spotted women garbed in colourful clothing, their hair braided up on top of their heads and decorated with all kind of frilly head-coverings. Some wore colourful feathers and others nets made of silver and pearls. The men were even worse. Some of them wore high-buckled boots decorated with silver, gold and jewels.
Their mistrustful looks didn't help to ease his fear, though Ghost was following after him like loyal shadow. Especially, when they tried to glimpse over the stone walls surrounding the houses, did they earn hostile reactions. One time, the guards nearly caught them, though they were able to slip away in a nearby alley.
Now they were back, walking along the same street. It was getting late, the first signs of dusk visibly on the distant.
Yet Dany had no intention to stop her search.
They hadn't eaten since morning, though they were forced to take a break during around midday when it started to rain. They took refuge in a nearby tavern, drank tea and counted their leftover coin. It was not much, but that was no surprise. Jon had to bribe the custom officer to allow Ghost into the city, though that remained a secret between him and the Captain. He didn't want to bother his travelling companion more than necessary when she was so happy to come here.
"This house is familiar!" Dany exclaimed and stopped abruptly. She pointed at a three-storied house, made of black stone and a yellow roof. The painted windows told him that this place was the home of a rich merchant; definitely, not a place for orphaned children.
Yet that didn't seem to bother Dany.
"Jon," she said and winked him to her side. "Lift me up and I might be able to get a look at the door."
Jon sighed heavily and wanted to refuse, but they had been marching all morning and he understood that desperation was driving her.
"Very well," he replied. Her nimble stature made it easy for her to climb on his back. Soon she was sitting on his shoulders like Arya used to do when she was little.
"Good," she said and pulled herself to her full height, her bare feet resting on his shoulders. "Are you alright?"
He couldn't help but to laugh. This was utter madness and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but then it had been a long time that he had so much fun.
"I am fine," he assured her and tightened his grip on his feet as she pulled herself up on the wall. Finally, she reached the top while Jon kept looked out for possible onlookers.
The alley completely deserted, but he was still anxious to leave.
"The door is red…but I am not sure…I see no lemon tree," she said, her voice laced with bitter disappointment. They found several houses with doors painted in different hues of red, but none fitted Dany's memory.
Three days of search, but no success. Jon was beginning to think doubt their quest, but he couldn't bring himself to destroy her hopes.
"Let's move on," he said encouragingly and made his way back to the wall. She didn't answer, but he saw her slender form casting a shadow on the cobbled street below.
He spread his arms and a moment later she was back on the floor, her silver hair dishevelled and sweaty.
"Shall we search elsewhere?" he asked her as they made their way back to Ragman's Port. She didn't speak, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"Dany…," he said and touched her shoulder.
"No," she replied, her voice brimming with sadness. "Haven't you noticed? None of the houses we visited had a proper garden, let alone a lemon tree. Braavos is devoid of greenery. Maybe I made it all up. Maybe I didn't even have a brother…," she trailed off and stopped abruptly.
She sounded hopeless and lost.
Jon felt the urge to comfort her, though deep down he partly agreed with her assessment of the situation.
"Nonsenses," he said and tightened his grip on her shoulder. "I am sure you had a brother, but the memories are a fickle thing. I remember very little from my early years. Maybe you are confusing something. It happens."
"Maybe," she replied leaned into his embrace. "Maybe you are right."
Slowly, she turned around and met his gaze, her purple eyes shining with tears.
She looked pale, her silver wet from the rain that was again pouring from the sky.
"I hope I am right," he replied and graced her with a smile. "We should get back to Happy Port. I fear it will pour all night and I doubt Ghost wants to get another bath."
"Probably," she agreed, a trembling laugh leaving her mouth. Then she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and pointed at ahead. "Happy Port it is."
The rest of the walk was bridged in silence, the movement of their footfalls on the ground and the whispering of the people the only noise.
Happy Port was brimming with customers, though Jon was by now used to the girls in their flimsy clothing and the drunken men boasting about their prowess.
Their meal was simple, potato soup and hard bread, but for Jon's empty stomach it was heaven. One of the girls was even kind to bring Ghost leftovers.
Their room was all the way up the stairs, but the song and noises of the brothel were still reaching through the thin walls. That it was rather shabby didn't bother him either. What counted to him was that the people here were trustworthy. The first day he carried around his box, but now he kept it hidden in their locked room. Only once one of the girls dared to ask about it, but Jon's sharp rebuke scared her away. Dany scolded him for his behaviour, but then she didn't know about the content of the box.
"We have to find a different place," she said after they had finished their meal. "And we need work."
"Aye," he agreed and continued to smooth his hand over Ghost's head resting in his lap. "I asked the Captain about it before we left the ship. The dock workers always in need a helping hand. I doubt they will pay me much, but I am barely able to understand the language."
"I will teach you everything you need to know," she declared determinedly. "And I can work too. I will ask around."
He nodded, perplexed by her resolution. Three days she had been searched the entire city like a madwoman and now she acted as if her search was no longer important.
"What about your search?"
"It matters not," she replied, defensively. "I cannot spend chasing the past."
"Maybe, "Jon agreed and rose to his feet, before sitting down next to her. "But maybe we are just asking the wrong questions."
"Wrong questions?" she asked and wrinkled her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe we should stop searching for painted doors, but inquire about your brother. You have silver hair and purple eyes…Did your brother look like you?"
She frowned and pondered his question for a moment, before giving her answer.
"I think so…my memory is rather blurry," she explained.
"Good," he said. "And do you remember what happened that night?"
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.
Then she opened them again, her purple eyes wide and bright.
"They killed the elderly man…my brother…he threw me out of the window. There was garden and a door out to the street nobody knew about other than my brother. I was bleeding from the broken glass and the insides of the house were on fire. They burned him…they burned my brother and the elderly knight. Then I ran…the rest are nothing but blurry memories."
Gods, he thought. Who would burn innocent children? Whoever Dany was, her caretaker or her brother had hateful enemies.
"Well, then we will ask around…I am sure someone will be able to remember such an incident," he declared determinedly.
"Do you think that possible?" she asked and leaned closer, her warm breath tickling his cheek."Or are you just trying to comfort me?"
"Both," he admitted and brushed his hand over her cheek. He did it subconsciously and pulled his hand away when he noticed his mistake.
"Lie or not," she replied and smiled. "I am thankful for your help."
He nodded and exhaled deeply. He was about to rise back to his feet, but her curious glance wandering to his box made him stop.
"Do you want to see?" he asked her, trying to find a more pleasant topic to occupy their minds with. "It belonged to my father."
"Of course I want to see," she replied, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Is it something precious?"
"Very precious," he confirmed and unlocked the box. Then he picked out one of the eggs. It had a black surface, red vines whirling around it from all directions.
"Is it a jewel?"
"No," he replied and placed her hand on the egg. "It is an egg…. a dragon egg."
She gasped in surprise like young children do when they hear an unbelievable story.
"It is warm," she whispered."Do you think it is alive? Do you think they can hatch like chicken eggs?"
"Maybe," he replied and graced her with an amused smile. "Maybe they will hatch if we keep them warm. As you said…it works with chickens."
It was a silly notion, but Jon was merely joking.
She chuckled and put the egg back in the box.
"Maybe."
…
Dany
They had been roaming Drunkard's Town all morning. She and Mella, the tenant's wife that rented them a small room facing out to the street, had been selling fresh oyster to the passing crowd.
Among their customers she observed a great variety of people; sailors, whores, singers and even merchants. Now and then one of the famous seawives bought from them and sparked up a conversation with Mella.
She was a tall and graceful woman, her blond hair falling to her waist in thick curls. The only mark on her beauty was the burned off skin on her neck, but she never hid it like Dany did with her slave marks.
"Dusk is near," Mella observed and pointed at the sky. Streaks of red and orange littered the horizon, the buildings in the distance nothing more shadows. "I think it is time to pack our things. Mara will be upset with me if I stay away beyond sunset."
Mara was her eldest daughter. Like her mother she spent half her days selling fish near Ragman's Port., but by now she was back home, taking care of her younger sisters Hadi and Shala. Hadi was ten and four and an acolyte in the Temple of Light. Shala, the youngest was only ten and spent most of her days at home, keeping the house hold in check.
Mella's husband Seoman was often away. He was a fisher and spent most of his days on his ship.
"Of course," Dany replied and picked up her basket. They sold most of the oysters, but her work didn't earn her much coin. Jon didn't earn much more than her, but together were able to afford the rent.
The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon when they returned. Yet the moon was full and lightened the streets better than the flimsy street lights.
"Where have you been?" Mara asked. She was garbed in a dirty green dress, her hair dishevelled and dirty. "It took you longer than usual."
"Aye," Mella confirmed and pulled off her cloak. "We had a lot of customers."
"I can see that," the girl replied and opened the door for them. Shala was hovering in the anteroom, her red hair kept in two long pigtails. "But father was fretting about you."
Instantly, Mella's face lightened up. "I didn't expect such a quick return."
"He was forced to return," Mara explained. "A storm damaged his ship."
Mella sighed and touched her red amulet wrought in the form of a flame. Like her second-oldest daughter she was a devout follower of the God of Light and two times a week they went to the temple to receive blessings. "It is good that our stocks are full, but we have to thankful that your father returned to us in good health."
Then she shifted her attention back to Dany, who had observed their exchange in silence.
"You should come and eat with us one of these days," she said and graced her with a warm smile.
Dany felt a gust of affection washing over her.
"I would be honoured," she replied and dipped her head, before making her way down the stairs torwards her own dwelling place.
Carefully, she opened the door and stepped inside. Much to her surprise Ghost was already there sprawled on the floor next to the fireplace.
The popping fire surprised her even more. Quietly, she made her way to the next room and found Jon sleeping on his bed of hay and wool.
Dany slept near the fireplace, but she offered him numerous times to sleep next to her. It was much warmer, but Jon proved more stubborn than expected.
Sighing deeply, she closed the door behind her and stirred the dying fire back to life. Then she placed pot on the flames and heated the water.
For others cold water might suffice, but Dany preferred it scalding. She even accepted the additional work of transporting the water here every morning.
It was her only luxury. Happily, she discarded her dress and washed herself before the open fire, Ghost her only witness to the act.
She enjoyed every minute of it and it helped to loosen her stiff muscles. In her Mistress' place they had their own bath, but here the people contented themselves with cold water from the rain basin.
"Gods!" Jon's gasp called her back to the present. "Can't you put up a warning!"
Dany turned around and flashed him a grin. They have been living together for nearly tree moons and yet he acted like he had never seen a naked girl. Dany knew why he was like that, but nobody here cared that he is a bastard, the son of a whore or a Prince. Even Mella and her daughters considered them wed, though they had never shared a bed since their first encounter.
Mara even offered her moon roots. Mella had her daughter for it, because the substance was apparently much stronger than tansy and could lead to unwanted side effects.
If you want proper tea, go to the healers.
Sadly, going to the healers also means to waste their scarce coin.
"Well, usually you are not even home during this time of the day," she replied and pulled her dress back over her head.
"Better?" she asked.
"Much better," he replied, but the smile showing on his lips meant that he shared her amusement.
"When did you return?"
"A few moments ago," she replied and brushed her hand through her hair. It was getting too long and bothersome. "Why are you home before nightfall?"
"Didn't you see?" he asked and frowned. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
Dany was confused.
"A surprise?" she asked and looked around. "What do you mean?"
"Your nameday…the door…Didn't you see?"
"The door?"
Jon sighed and patted her shoulder.
"Come along…I will show you," he replied and opened the door. The street outside was deserted, the sky starry and littered with numerous stars. Then Jon closed the door behind them and lifted his latern.
The light revealed the truth. Someone painted the door in rich crimson.
Dany didn't know what to say.
"Did I get the colour right?" he asked her, his dark eyes resting on the door.
She tried to speak, but no sound left her mouth.
"I wasn't sure…," he stuttered, but Dany sealed his mouth with a kiss. His lips were soft and inviting.
Surprisingly, he didn't push her away and returned her kiss. He even parted her lips, his tongue brushing against hers.
It sent a surge of desire through her body, but then he stopped and pulled away. It felt as if someone had poured bucket of cold water over her.
"I assume this means you like my gift?" he asked her and pulled her back inside. It was only now that she noticed the peddler boys watching them from the roof.
Damn brats, she thought and recalled and unpleasant incident three weeks ago. Mara and her sister had been bathing and the boys watched them from the roof.
Mella cursed the living shit out of the boys, but it seems her curses were not much use.
"Of course I like it," she confirmed and eyed his swollen lips. "It is just…nobody has ever gifted me anything."
"Oh," he said, his face alight with surprise. She made use of the moment and kissed him again, smoothing her hands through his soft hair.
Annoyingly, he pulled away again, his dark eyes resting on her in a mixture of lust and shame.
"You don't have to repay me like that…," he told her and she couldn't help but to slap him for his stupid answer.
"Sometimes you are really a fool!" she snapped while he rubbed his shoulder. "That was not the reason I kissed you."
He looked guilty.
"I didn't mean…," he stuttered and flushed. "I didn't mean to insult you. I liked it. Truly, I did."
His answer helped to calm her anger.
"Good," she said and pulled the dress over her shoulders. "Because I am sick and tired of sleeping alone."
"Dan…," he wanted to protest, but forgot about it when she kissed him and slipped her fingers under his tunic. Finally, he forgot about his inhibitions and helped her pull off his tunic. His boots and breeches followed suit.
He swallowed hard, before kissing her again. Both of them were naked as their name days his skin hot like a brazier.
He gasped into her neck, then moaned, as she reached between their bodies to touch him.
Soon his fingers were digging into her back, his head buried on her shoulder, panting for air.
"Stop it!" he gasped at last and stilled her hand. And then his mouth was back on hers, his hand brushing her breast and hip. She pulled her hand away and threaded it through his hair, before pulling him back to her sleeping place, next to the hearth.
She lay down and pulled him down, staring down at her with half-lidded eyes. Yet she also read fear.
"Is something wrong?" she asked and brushed her hand through his dishevelled hair.
He didn't speak, the silence stretched endlessly. Then he shook his head.
"Nothing is wrong," he replied and braced himself beside her while the other one pulled on her hip. His eyes, dark like the starry sky above, fluttered close as he slid inside her.
He exhaled shakily, his breathing ragged.
It didn't hurt like the last time, but he asked her anyway.
"Does it hurt?"
"No," she whispered and touched her mouth to his. "Not at all."
He moved slowly, his movements controlled, his laboured breathing muffled by her shoulder. She wanted him to kiss her again, but his face was buried in her neck, his fingers grasping the bedding.
Soon even that thought was forgotten. Her own body thrummed with heat, her breathing becoming ragged as he sped up his movements, his hands grabbing for her hip in a desperate motion.
With one quick motion she he slid impossible deep and left her gasping for her air, stars exploding before her eyes.
He thrusted a few more times into her, his hips jerking in quick movements. Then suddenly, he collapsed and buried his head in her neck, his moans echoing in her ears.
Slowly, he lifted his head, his pupils blown and his face flushed.
He gave her an apologetic look.
"I wanted to pull out, but I was not quick enough," he told her. It took her a moment, before she understood what he meant.
"You are a fool," she told him chidingly and brushed her hand over his cheek.
"Maybe," he said and sounded slightly hurt, before sliding out of her and rolling on his side.
"I am sorry…," she apologized quickly and patted his shoulder."It is just…I don't understand why you feel ashamed. I am sure even your oh so honourable Uncle took great pleasure in producing his children."
"You know why."
"I am just trying to open your eyes to the truth. Most people here don't care if you are a bastard. I don't even have a second name. Snow, Sand, Flowers, Waters…your surname means nothing to me."
"You are right," he said, a hesitant smile crossing over his lips. "But it is hard to forget about these past habits."
…
Robb
Lord Wylis Manderly proved as enormous as his Lord father, a jolly smile lightening up his round face as he tried to kneel.
"A bow should suffice, my Lord," he assured the man.
"Of course," the man replied and bowed his head. "It is a pleasure to be here, Lord Stark."
"And it is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Manderly," Robb replied and leaned back, grasping the handle of the high seat. It was still strange for him to occupy his Lord Father's seat, but Greywind's presence gave him the confidence he needed. "Sadly, neither my Lady mother nor Master Luwin are here to join us."
It was half a lie. Maester Luwin was tending to Bran because Robb instructed him to do so and his mother left for the capital to report her findings his Lord Father. A few weeks ago she made her way up to the Broken Tower and found a golden lock. Robb didn't know what to make of it, but his Lady mother was convinced that Bran's fall was more than a simple accident.
Robb had pleaded with her to remain here, but his Lady mother insisted and thus he was left fretting about her.
"A pity," the Lord said and Robb nodded his head in agreement. "But I bring good news…my inquiries about your brother proved fruitful."
"Truly?" Robb asked and felt relief washing over him. He had been fretting about his brother since the day he disappeared, but now there was a glimpse of hope appearing before him. "Please tell me about your findings."
"A man…a Braavosi Captain saw a boy fitting your brother's description, but what convinced me was the description of his wolf. He had fur as white as snow and ruby eyes."
"Ghost," Robb said and tightened his grip on the handle of his chair."That was without any doubt Ghost."
"There is more, my Lord," Lord Wylis added. "Your brother wasn't alone. He had a travelling companion…a boy with silver hair."
"Silver hair?" Robb asked and received the confirmation he had been seeking for. It was true. His brother stole away the girl form the brothel.
His Lord Father was convinced that it means nothing, but Robb couldn't believe that all this was a mere coincidence.
Not that he could tell anyone about it. Only he and his mother knew about Jon's true birth and his Lord Father swore them to secrecy.
"My Lord!" Lord Wylis called out to him. "The Captain told me that your brother left his ship in Braavos."
"Braavos," he repeated. Then he lifted his head and met Lord Manderly's gaze. "Did my brother tell him about his future plans?"
"Not that I know of," Lord Manderly replied and destroyed all his hopes.
Robb wanted to do nothing more than to ready a ship and bring his brother home, but he was also sure that neither his Lady Mother nor his Lord Father would approve of such actions.
He exhaled deeply and met Lord Manderly's gaze.
"My Lord," he said and graced him with a smile. "I am thankful for your help. I hope you will stay a few more days to enjoy our hospitality."
The man smiled happily and lowered his head.
"I am honoured, Lord Stark."
Moments later he was making his way up the stairs to Bran's chambers, Greywind trailing after him.
Maester Luwin's looked surprised.
"My Lord Stark," Maester Luwin greeted. "What brings you here?"
"I want speak with Bran…alone," he replied.
Bran's face lightened up and Maester Luwin nodded his head in understanding.
"Of course," the elderly man said and closed the door behind him.
"Robb!" Bran exclaimed impatiently. "What is going on?"
"I bring good news," he replied and settled himself on the bed next to Bran. "I have news about Jon…It seems he travelled to Braavos."
Brans eyes widened in surprise.
"Braavos…," he repeated. "Will you send men to bring him back?"
"Not now," he replied sadly and ruffled his hand through his brother's hair. "I can't act without father's approval."
...
Jon
He found the place beside him empty. Carefully, he pulled the bedding up to his shoulders and narrowed his eyes against the bright sunlight.
"It is almost midday," Dany chided him from her place near the window. Barely a moon ago he was able to find her an old writing table. Now she was earning additional coin by penning letters for their illiterate neighbours. It was not much, but better than nothing.
"Today is a holiday," he reminded her. "I don't have to work."
"That is why I chided you," she replied and chuckled, her gaze fixed on the paper in front of her. You missed the parade and the costumes. It was a fabulous sight."
"I see," he said and she put away the piece of paper. Then she rose to her feet and pulled off her dress, before slipping back under the bedding and snuggling close to him.
He sighed in frustration.
"Stop it!" he told her and rolled away.
She chuckled and turned around to grace him with a mischievous smile.
"It seems you brought your sword to bed," she joked.
They had done this more than a dozen times, but her merciless teasing still made his cheeks burn. After the first time he tried to refuse her, in fears of getting her with child, but his will proved weaker than expected. He tried to console himself with the fact that he hadn't spilled inside her since their first night together, but the last few times were close. It was hard to keep a clear head at the hight of pleasure.
"Still," he told her and pulled her hand away. "I need to get up."
Quickly, he tried to move out of the bed, but she proved swifter and grasped his shoulder.
"I got you!" she declared like a child playing hide and seek.
"I can see that," he replied and leaned down to kiss her, but she didn't move. Suddenly, she paled and wheeled around, emptying her stomach on the floor.
"Gods!" he gasped and was quickly at her side, brushing her hair out of her face. "Are you sick?"
"It seems so," she replied defensively. Quickly, she climbed out of the bed to retrieve a rag and a bucket to water to clean the mess. Jon used the time to dress himself and joined her side to help her.
By then she was already finished and slipped her dress back over her head.
"You should go and see a healer if you are feeling sick," he told her, but she shook her head.
"That would cost too much," she insisted. "I will drink tea and keep away from the fish. That should do it."
Jon didn't like that sound of that. The lack of coin was becoming more and more of a problem, though Dany tried to ignore it.
Jon never shied away from hard work, but he wanted something better. He liked the tenant's family, but he can't imagine living her forever.
Maybe it was his noble upbringing, but the money he received for his work was not enough for him.
He had been pondering this for a while, but he didn't dare to bring it up until now.
"Dany," he said and cleared his throat. "I have been thinking…"
Her face softened at his unsure tone.
"What have you been thinking about?" she asked and knelt down to brush her hand over Ghost's head.
He was growing bigger every day. Another reason.
"A few days ago I met a man…he was recruiting for the Second Sons…a swellsword company,"
"I heard about them," she replied and grew defensive. "What about them?"
He was sure that she understood what he wanted to say. She was far too smart.
"I am a good swordsman…it would only be for six moons…the coin would allow us to live comfortably for one or two years. You could open shop…start a business or something else."
"Six moons," she repeated. "That is half a year."
"I know," he admitted. "But you are not alone. Mella will take care of you and Ghost will stay with you. What more protection do you need?"
"I am not afraid," she replied defensively. "I know how to take care of myself, but I worry about you. All you know is the practice yard, but a real battle is full of blood and dead."
"I know," he replied, slightly hurt by her words. What she said was true, but it still hurt his pride.
"I am not afraid," he insisted and she smiled sadly.
"I don't deny your bravery, but brave people tend to do stupid things," she added and pulled a shawl over her shoulder. Even here in the Free Cities, the first signs of autumn were showing.
For Jon the autumn weather felt almost pleasant, but Dany was used the heat of Volantis.
"I won't do anything stupid," he replied. "I will come back. I promise."
Another moment of silence followed that drove Jon to madness.
"Don't you believe me?"
She wrinkled her brows.
"Of course I believe you," she replied, her purple eyes glinting with a strange emotion he was unable to place. "But that doesn't mean I like it. Go if you must. I won't stop you."
"That is not enough for me," he replied. "I won't go without your blessing."
She nodded her head and rose to her feet to place a kiss on his cheek.
"You have my blessing."
Relief washed over him and spurred him on.
Carefully, he brushed his hand over her arm.
"Before I go," he said and forced the words over his lips. "We could go to the temple…there are more enough…"
She cocked an eyebrow, a hesitant smile playing on her lips. It told him that she understood what he was trying to say.
"Not now," she told him and squeezed his hand. "When you return…then we will go to the temple."
He couldn't help but to smile.
"And you will be fine?"
"Of course," she replied and jerked her head at Ghost. "As you said…Ghost is here. He will protect me."
Ghost yawned and rolled to the other side, ignoring them.
…