Black Betha moved quickly through the choppy waves of the narrow sea. Through fortuitous weather and the skill of her captain and crew, the large warship had made good time since leaving King's Landing a week ago. They'd passed the rocky island of Dragonstone a day and a half ago and were now approaching Claw Isle.

Jasper sat on the forecastle, fidgeting restlessly with the dagger Robert had gifted him and occasionally risking peeps down at the rough blue water below him. The shouts and singing of the crew faded into the background, as he focused on the sound of the waves breaking against the front of the ship. The meeting of wood and water was jarring, but strangely relaxing at the same time and Jasper enjoyed the feeling of the seawater droplets that were sent spraying up against his face. The midday sun was warm and comfortable on his face, but that couldn't stop the dull sigh that escaped his lips.

He was bored. There was little to do on this ship. He enjoyed talking to the crew, but they were often too busy manning the vessel to talk to the young prince. The rest of his time was spent aimlessly wandering the ship or else relaxing in the sun, as he was doing now.

He couldn't wait to reach the Vale.

He could hear loud foot steps behind him and he turned his head to see Ser Davos approaching.

"Enjoying the sun, Prince Jasper?" The captain called to him, as he got closer.

"As much as I can enjoy anything locked up like this," Jasper grumbled, the kind-natured knight smiling indulgently in response. "No offense to you, Ser Davos, but I think life at sea ill suits me."

"I wouldn't be so sure, my price," Ser Davos replied, chuckling slightly. "I've seen adults three times your age spend the whole journey emptying their stomachs. You're almost a seasoned sailor in comparison."

"Be that as it may, Ser," Jasper said, his young, high voice still sullen, "I enjoy the feeling of dry land beneath my feet too much."

"Fair enough." Ser Davos allowed, leaning his arms against the ship's side.

"How soon until we reach Gulltown, do you reckon?" Jasper inquired, standing up to stand next to the Onion Knight.

Ser Davos tilted his head in thought and said, "A week and a half at most, but likely sooner."

Jasper exhaled loudly.

"How are you feeling about it? Nervous?" Ser Davos asked, looking at him. "If its not so bold of me to ask, my prince."

"No, its fine, Ser Davos," Jasper smiled softly. "I suppose I am. I've only ever been away from Storm's End for a moon and I've never been apart from Renly for more than a day. Now it seems I'll be away from both for years."

"Its to be expected, my prince," Ser Davos told him. "I still feel the same every time I leave my family on a voyage."

"Really?"

"Of course," Ser Davos said. "I wasn't that much older than you when I left my ma to gain service on a ship."

"Why did you leave?" Jasper asked quietly.

"It seemed the only way I could get out of Flea Bottom, my prince. To make something of myself," Ser Davos answered.

"I see," Jasper said. He frowned, remembering Stannis words. "And that was through smuggling?"

"Aye, my prince," Ser Davos said, shifting slightly. "I first found service on the Cobblecat under Roro Uhoris, a smuggler and somewhat of a pirate, also. A Tyroshi he was, and a tough man, too. Taught me everything I know about sailing a ship and navigating the seas."

"Is he still a smuggler?" Jasper questioned. "Or is he a knight now too?"

"I think I'm the only smuggler turned knight in all the kingdoms, my prince," Ser Davos laughed. "One of a kind. No, Uhoris was caught by the Night's Watch fleet from Eastwatch. Hanged him they did, and only I and a few others managed to slip away."

"What did you then?" Jasper wanted to know, absorbed in the Onion Knight's life story, so different from his own. Alien, almost.

"Well, my prince, after serving under a few more captains I managed to secure my own small ship," Ser Davos stated. "And became one of the more infamous smugglers of the Seven Kingdoms."

"And then Storm's End," Jasper guessed.

"And then Storm's End," Ser Davos nodded. "Reckon you know the rest. Your lord brother knighted me, gave me some lands and a modest keep and now I sail with the royal fleet, serving Lord Stannis."

"A steep rise indeed, Ser Davos," Jasper smiled.

"And however much Lord Stannis says my gratitude is useless, I am grateful," Ser Davos said. "I owe everything to him."

"And your own hard work, too. Don't discount that, Ser," Jasper said earnestly.

"Perhaps," the Onion Knight allowed, though he didn't look convinced.

"I suppose if you can do all that by yourself, I can make the best of my situation at Runestone," Jasper sighed, his stomach a bundle of nerves and doubts.

"I have no doubt you will, my prince," Ser Davos told him brightly.

"Thank you, Ser Davos." Jasper nodded.

They were silent for a few moments before Ser Davos noticed a crewman that drew his ire.

"Oi, Alyn that's not how you tie a bloody knot! Tighter!" Ser Davos glanced at the prince apologetically. "Sorry, my prince but…"

"Go, go," Jasper waved him away, heaving a sigh as Ser Davos hurried away towards the terrified lad who'd angered him.

Once more Jasper was left alone to contemplate his future, though Ser Davos' words gave him some encouragement. If Ser Davos, a boy of low birth, born in the wretched slum of Flea Bottom, could rise so high by himself after leaving home so young, then he couldn't wallow in self-pity. He would train hard and become one of the greatest knights in the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps even serve in the Kingsguard, protecting his brother and his brother's heirs from danger. He didn't want to be beholden to any of his brothers' titles and or their generosity. He was determined to make something of himself.

o-O-o

Runestone was beautiful. Smaller than Storm's End, but a mighty fortress still, its bronze dyed strong walls had ancient runes carved into their base. The castle of House Royce for centuries, Runestone stood high and proud, dwarfing even the large hills and small mountains that occupied the landscape around it. It was round in shape and sat on a rocky, mountainous outcrop. The castle had several tall towers jutting from its centre atop which flags displaying House Royce's emblem of black iron studs on a bronze field bordered with runes flew proudly.

Jasper approached with the two Runestone guards who'd ridden out to meet them after they'd come within sight of Runestone, and his small escort of Gulltown guards, lent to him by Lord Gerold Grafton, ruler of the Vale's only true city. Jasper had feasted with the lord and his family the night he'd arrived in the Vale; it had been an awkward dinner with the former Targaryen loyalists, after all Robert himself had slain Lord Gerold's own brother, Marq, early in the rebellion. Ser Davos had insisted on himself and two of his men accompanying him while inside House Grafton's keep, though Jasper had thought it pointless- what idiot would kill King Robert's own brother under guest right? The next day Black Betha had sailed away and Jasper had ridden from Gulltown with six of Lord Gerold's best guardsmen.

The thick wooden gates of Runestone were already open by the time Jasper and his party reached them. He entered his new home slowly, looking around at the castle cautiously.

It appeared as though the entire household of Runestone had congregated to welcome him. He spotted guards and servants, minor nobles and knights, scores of them, arranged in rows waiting for him.

A large, powerful-looking man with a surcoat of House Royce's coat of arms on his chest strode forward from amongst the crowd as Jasper clambered off his horse and stretched. The man was tall, his face lined with middle-age. He had grey eyes, a straight nose and very bushy eyebrows. Despite his size, there was an unexpected gentleness in his face.

"Prince Jasper," the man, presumably Lord Yohn Royce, bowed when he reached him. "Welcome to Runestone."

"Lord Royce," Jasper greeted with a hesitant smile. "You have a magnificent castle, my lord."

"You are kind to say so, my prince, though I shan't disagree with you," the Lord of Runestone replied, his voice almost as loud and booming as Robert's. "We are glad to welcome you within our halls."

"Thank you for having me, my lord," Jasper replied.

"As I said, it is our pleasure," Lord Yohn grinned broadly, showing sharp, white teeth. He stood back and waved a group of people forward. "May I introduce my family, Prince Jasper?"

Lord Royce first presented his wife, Lady Falena Royce, formerly of House Rosby. The older woman was kind-faced and looked to be the sort of woman to always have a smile on her face. She was almost as tall as her husband and had long, grey, wavy hair. Her smile was encouraging as he fumbled over his courtesy greeting. Jasper liked her instantly.

Next was the recently knighted Ser Andar Royce, Lord Yohn's son and heir. His stocky and powerful build was similar to that of his father's, as was his bushy eyebrows and similarly shaped nose. However, he seemed to have inherited the thin lips and big, brown eyes of his mother. His chestnut brown hair fell into his face and over his eyes when he leaned forward, an easy grin on his face, to greet Jasper with a firm handshake.

Rowena Royce was a few years older than him, twelve namedays at a guess, and she greeted him with polite, if reserved, courtesy. Her little sister, on the other hand, was younger even than him; Ysilla Royce blushed furiously and gave a nervous giggle when he kissed her little hand.

The only two others left were Lord Yohn's younger sons, Robar and Waymar. Robar was of an age with him and looked to be a smaller version of his older brother, though less stocky. His greeting was happy and enthusiastic, and, like Lady Falena, Jasper couldn't help but like him. Waymar, on the other hand, was thin and slightly weedy with clear, grey eyes. Only a year or so younger than Jasper, he didn't smile when introduced, his brief courtesies more like that of Rowena's.

After the correct formalities in greeting Lord Yohn's family, he was introduced to some of the main staff lodged at Runestone. Ser Samwell Stone, better known as Strong Sam Stone, the master-at-arms was a renowned knight. The big man looked at him appraisingly and Jasper got the impression he was being assessed for his fighting worth. Leobald Tollett, a small, sallow-cheeked man, was introduced as the steward and Ser Desmond Coldwater as the captain of the guard. Maester Helliweg had a slight hunchback, though he seemed nice enough, as did the heavy set Septon Lucos.

By the time it was all done Jasper felt exhausted. Lord Yohn surely spotted this, for he dismissed the household quickly and turned to the young Baratheon prince.

"I'm sure this has all been very tiring, my prince," Lord Yohn told him. "You can get comfortable with your room first and we shall speak more at the evening meal, tonight."

"As you wish, my lord." Jasper responded, relieved.

"Good." The Lord of Runestone nodded. "I'll have the servants bring up your things. Robar can show you to your room," he said, beckoning his middle son.

Robar ran up to the two of them quickly, his obvious excitement causing Jasper to smile.

"Come on, it's this way," Robar told him, pulling him towards a set of stairs that ran along the castle's east wall. The Royce boy wasted no time, speaking as soon as the two were alone, "What's it like being brother to the king?"

Jasper was taken aback at the question. "Er… great, I guess. Though I don't see him often."

"My father says King Robert's one of the greatest fighters he's ever seen!" Robar exclaimed, earnestly. "He saw him slay Ser Marq Grafton, and Prince Rhaegar, too."

"Stannis said Robert hated Rhaegar for stealing his betrothed, and he was determined to kill him. Which he did," Jasper said, proudly.

"My father told me how they met in combat on the shores of the Trident in the midst of battle," Robar said in wonder. "They had a legendary duel, many of the soldiers stopping to watch, but finally…"

"Robert hit him so hard that the rubies in his breastplate were scattered into the river," Jasper continued the tale.

"And now they call it the Ruby Ford!" Robar finished the well-known story, one which both had heard many a time, exhilaration in his tone.

The two grinned at each other, both caught up in the story and imagining similar tales of glory in their own futures.

The rest of their short walk was filled of similar tales. Robar told him of Bronze King Grayson III Royce, who had pushed back a mighty alliance of Belmores, Hunters and Redforts thousands of years ago. Jasper, in turn, told him the story of Storm's End's creation, which he was shocked Robar hadn't heard before; he'd known the story since before he could walk. He had just explained the disagreement over whether the children of the forest or Bran the Builder had helped Duran, when they reached the correct hallway.

"You're in the same tower as me and my family," Robar told him, beaming, when he showed him into his new room. "My chamber is only just down the hall."

Jasper smiled at him, before inspecting his room. The bed in the centre of the room, pushed up against the back wall, was larger than his one at Storm's End, which surprised him. He saw several sets of clothes with the Royce insignia embossed on it, likely his new page's uniform, stacked on shelves in the corner. A modest, wooden desk sat in the other corner, with fresh ink and parchment lain on it. A large window looked out onto the courtyard and beyond, from which he could see green fields and rolling hills.

"Do you like it?" Robar asked from the door, nervously.

"Yes," Jasper said, truthfully. "I like it."

o-O-o

Jasper dipped the seal in the warm wax and stamped it over the rolled-up parchment, marking it as coming from the Lord of Runestone. Carefully, he placed it atop the other written writs that were to be carried across Lord Royce's lands, officially banning the unsanctioned dye making business that had apparently cropped up in the underground black markets in recent months.

Jasper looked up at Lord Yohn, who was going over the castle's accounts with Maester Helliweg and Leobald Tollett.

"I'm all done, my lord."

Lord Royce glanced over and nodded, "Good work, Jasper." He looked at the boy next to the prince. "And you, Hector?"

Hector Hunter, the grandson of Lord Eon of Longbow Hall, was a blonde-haired boy of ten namedays, recently appointed as Lord Yohn's squire. Jasper had been disappointed when he first heard that, but Lord Yohn had reminded him that a lord could have two squires and that, in a year or two, Jasper would be named as one his squires. In the two weeks Jasper had been at Runestone he and Hector had become good friends, along with Robar and Osric Wayn, Ser Andar's squire.

"Nearly, my lord," Hector replied, before stamping the last of the writs. "There, done!"

"Well done, both of you," Lord Yohn praised them. "You got through them a lot quicker than I had thought you would."

"Can we go to the training yard now, Lord Royce?" Hector asked, Jasper nodding in agreement. "I know its earlier than is normal, but we've done all our duties."

"I'll be the judge of that, Hector," Lord Yohn told him sternly. "Though… perhaps, just this once. Unless you have something for them to do, Maester Helliweg? Did they behave in this morning's lessons?"

As Lord Yohn turned to the Maester, Jasper and Hector looked at Helliweg pleadingly.

"They were most diligent and attentive in listening to my teachings on the War Across the Water, my lord," Helliweg said, shooting an amused look at the boys. "And I have nothing further for them to do."

"Is that so?" Lord Yohn quirked an eyebrow, as Jasper and Hector heaved a relieved sigh collectively. The Lord of Runestone turned to Hector. "What was the name of the Mountain King who the Sistermen turned to after the Northmen invaded?"

Hector though for a moment. "King Mathos II Arryn, my lord. He died when his flagship was sunk by three Stark vessels ramming it at the same time."

"Correct." Lord Yohn nodded, before turning to Jasper, who gulped. "Which Arryn king besieged and took the castle of Wolf's Den?"

"A trick question, my lord," Jasper replied quickly. "King Osgood Arryn besieged it, but it was he son, Oswin, that saw out the siege. And he didn't take it, he burned it."

"Aye, very well," Lord Yohn smirked slightly. "You may go to Ser Samwell. Go on then, off with you!"

Jasper was out of his seat like a shot, calling over his shoulder to Hector, "Race you!"

The two raced out of the door, the laughs of the three adults following them.

They arrived at the training yard not a minute later, Jasper winning the race by at least two lengths.

"Yes!" Jasper pumped his fist, while the older boy bent over to catch his breath.

"And what are you two doing here?" Ser Samwell approached them from where he had been overseeing some of the garrison's training, his grizzled voice stern. The master-at-arms was a hard man, but just and fair. Not unlike Lord Yohn himself.

"Lord Royce said we could come early. We'd finished our responsibilities," Jasper panted.

"I see," Ser Samwell stroked his short stubble. "Come on then, boys. You know where the gear is."

The two hurried to equip themselves with pads and a wooden sword and shield each from the barracks. Ser Samwell then set them to practicing the basics of thrusting and slashing on wooden posts. Not long after Robar, Osric and Waymar joined them, finished with their own chores.

"Okay, that's enough," Ser Samwell commanded after a while. "Let's have some practice spars- nothing too rough, mind, but I want to see you try. Waymar and Osric, you first."

"That's hardly fair! He's near three years older than me!" Waymar complained.

Jasper had found complaining came naturally to Waymar.

"Two and a half," snorted Osric. "Scared, Waymar?"

Jasper and Robar laughed, while Waymar reddened.

"Of you? Hardly," Waymar laughed cruelly. "Your family of landed knights are hardly better than peasants, unfit to hold a sword."

Osric purpled and made to lurch forwards, but Jasper caught him and held him back, Hector quickly rushing to help him.

"Shut up, Waymar!" Robar accosted his younger brother. "House Wayn go back hundreds of years, and Osric is a far better sword than you. You're just frightened and jealous."

Osric was still straining against Jasper and Hector, who were struggling to hold the other boy back.

"Settle it in the spar," Jasper told him, desperately. "You know you can beat him."

Meanwhile, Waymar shouldered up to his brother.

"Defending him brother?" Waymar asked. "Can't the little river-boy fight his own battles?"

"Little?" Robar scoffed. "You were just complaining how much older and bigger he was!"

Waymar opened his mouth to respond, but Ser Samwell made his voice known before he could.

"Enough!" The master-at-arms shouted, his voice cracking through the tense atmosphere like a whip. "You are acting like fools. Osric, calm down and prepare for the spar. Waymar, stop belittling your brother's squire, who is a guest in your lord father's castle. I have made my decision and you will spar with Osric. Robar, Jasper, Hector- stand back. All of you, now."

Jasper did as he was told, as Waymar and Osric squared up to each other. Osric's face was a picture of determination, his stance calm and collected. Waymar looked at him and beckoned mockingly, though Jasper caught the slight nervous twitch at the corner of the young Royce's eye.

Osric came at Waymar hard and fast, his slashes a little reckless, yet still accurate enough. Waymar defended with his sword and shield valiantly, but after thirty seconds of Osric constantly raining down blows on the younger boy Osric's age and superior strength told. He caught Waymar's shoulder with a thrust and capitalised with a follow up slash to the gut while Waymar was distracted. Waymar doubled up, whimpering in pain and Ser Samwell announced Osric the victor.

Jasper, Robar and Hector congratulated the smirking Osric, while Ser Samwell commanded Waymar to sit down and rest. He gave his critique and tips to both individually before addressing the small group at large.

"Hector, Jasper," Ser Samwell called. "You're next. Remember to keep your shield up- last time that cost both of you."

Jasper blew a breath out as he took his place opposite Hector. Their spars were often well matched; Hector was stronger and had more experience, but Jasper was quicker and the more natural swordsman.

Unlike Osric and Waymar's duel, the two of them started more cautiously, with testing, probing thrusts. After a minute or two of this Hector suddenly launched a series of attacks at him, which Jasper only just managed to block with is shield. He attempted to turn the attack around on Hector and counter-attack by barging his shield into the young Hunter's torso, but Hector dodged and arced his sword around for another slash. Jasper caught it on his own sword and the two blunted weapons made a great clamouring sound that echoed across the yard, despite only being wood.

The two held the position for a long moment, before Hector used his greater strength to throw Jasper off and push him back. Hector went for another swing, aimed at the prince's stomach, and Jasper stepped back nimbly to avoid it. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, breathing heavily as they circled one another.

Then, quick as a crack of lightning, Jasper reached in with a thrust towards his opponents right calf, his wooden sword a blur. Hector attempted to lower his shield to block, but Jasper changed the direction of the thrust at the last minute. His opponent realised it was a feint too late and the wooden sword struck Hector just below the collar bone, causing the boy to cry out in pain. The squire immediately tried to retaliate, cutting out with his sword in the general direction of the young Baratheon, but Jasper had already ducked, anticipating it.

With Hector's defences open, Jasper was free to thrust up, driving his sword into the older boy's stomach. He followed it up speedily with a swing that connected with Hector's right hand and knocked the sword from his grasp.

"Jasper wins," Ser Samwell shouted, approvingly. "A good fight, both of you."

Jasper lent down and offered Hector his right hand, which he accepted. Jasper pulled the young Hunter up and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry about that."

"Are you kidding?" Hector laughed good naturedly. "That was great. And I wouldn't hesitate to do the same to you."

"I guess that's true," Jasper smiled, just as Robar and Osric reached them.

"You both fought well," grinned Robar. "I think you even impressed Ser Samwell."

"You've got to teach me that faint." Osric said to Jasper.

"I wouldn't want to give you ways to defeat me, now, would I?" Jasper laughed to the protestations of his companions.

No matter how nervous he had been before arriving at Runestone, he needn't have worried. He was greatly enjoying his time at Runestone, and it already felt like a second home. Much of that was due to the boys around him. He'd never really had any companions his own age at Storm's End, apart from Renly, and only now did he realise how much he'd missed out on.

"Stop congratulating each other and get your asses back in position!" Ser Samwell roared. "Robar and Osric, you next. Hurry the bloody well up!"

"Guess we didn't impress the old stoat much," Jasper gumbled under his breath.

"I heard that!" Ser Samwell rounded on him. "Brother of the king you may be, but in this yard you're just the same as any other snot-nosed squire. I want fifteen laps of the yard. What are you still doing here, Prince Jasper? Move!"

Cursing his own stupidity, Jasper dropped his sword and shield. To the laughs of his so-called 'friends', he set off on a brisk jog, only for Ser Samwell to shout even louder.

"Faster! I want you to run!"

Jasper did as he was told, gritting his teeth as his legs began to groan in protest.

In hindsight, perhaps he'd been asking for something to go wrong when he'd let his thoughts become too reflectively positive. The Gods sure loved their jokes.

"Faster!"

Clenching his fists tightly, Jasper did as he was bid.