A/N: Hi guys. Glad to be back with another chapter. Been stressed cause now is the time med school interview requests come out, plus I start a job next week.

Good news, with Bet of Dragons done, my one shot done, and Targaryen Dynasty wrapping up (check them all out, I promise you'll love them), I shall be starting a new project: a modern romantic comedy (with plenty of smut) starring Jon and Daenerys called "My Best Friend's Wedding :D It'll be posted on Ao3 in one week.

Be sure to check out my current stories Dragonshield and Heart of the Blessed.

Enjoy.

Chapter 89: Family Vacation

Likely the Red Keep hadn't felt such rage since the days of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Alicent Hightower. Aegon the Unworthy couldn't compare. Aerion Brightflame couldn't compare. Aerys the Mad King couldn't compare to the rage Queen Lyanna Stark was feeling. "I WANT BLOOD!" Wolfsbane swung in a powerful arc, slamming into a walnut chair with a loud crack.

While she wasn't as obvious, Queen Elia Martell shook with rage. Had she been a warrior, she didn't disagree that she'd have reacted the same way her wife did. "What are the names, brother? Tell me now!"

"They will meet the steel of our swords, your Grace," Arthur insisted, speaking on behalf of the entire Kingsguard - especially Benjen.

"My sword!" Lyanna screamed. "Only mine!" With a downward swing, she chopped the chair cleanly in half, so powerful did her anger make her.

Burning with anger deep inside, Rhaegar contained enough self-control to look at this in an objective manner. "And when we obtain the names, you will have it, my loves," he said firmly. "Oberyn, did you figure out who had said this among the Reach?"

Oberyn shook his head. "I didn't get any names." That brought more ire from his sister and goodsister, along with disappointment from Ellaria - who had convinced him to come clean when he had previously thought not to bring them ill-feelings prior to the royal progress - he had never seen Lyanna so happy since little Visenya was born. "Mind you, I didn't actually hear anything first hand, merely relayed what Lady Margaery said of things she had heard."

"Wait, Margaery Tyrell?" She was but a girl, so why would her brother… An ashen look came over Elia's face. "Brother… did Jon hear any of these?"

This was what Oberyn feared. "I was told this first by Princess Daenerys - she, Lady Margaery, Rhae, Arianne, Egg, and Baelon were speaking together."

"No…" Lyanna's rage had… transformed into something else. Something cold - like an icy northern blizzard. "So Jon knows…"

"I'm sure he doesn't know the context of it…" Rhaegar interjected, but Lyanna shrugged it off and stormed out, any good mood she had been in dead at the moment. The King sighed. "Elia, can you use your birds to…"

She nodded. "I'll find them all." Elia followed Lyanna with worry in her expression, joined by the others aside from Benjen, Rhaegar, and Lady Melisandre.

As Benjen closed the door behind that of the Queens, Rhaegar sighed. "We're traveling to my beloved's ancestral home for the first time - her first time since leaving for the Tourney at Harrenhal where she thought she'd have to marry my pig cousin Robert - and instead of being joyous we have to deal with this shit." He slammed his fist onto the ironwood table. "Damn them all to the seven hells."

"R'hllor's flames will smite the evildoers," Melisandre stated firmly. "If you shall decree, your Grace, allow me to be the one to personally deliver the King's Justice upon them."

Looking up, Rhaegar saw a tiny crack in his spiritual advisor's normally calm facade. She looked… genuinely angry. "I appreciate this sentiment, Lady Melisandre." However strange it may be. "But the man who passes the sentence must swing the sword."

She was undeterred. "Allow me to be your sword… Prince Baelon is blessed of the gods and the Lord of Light personally. Any insult to him is an insult to R'hllor himself and He is not merciful to those that insult him." Her fist clenched, which Rhaegar noticed. "Nor am I merciful to those that seek harm to the Lord's chosen. Prince Baelon especially."

"We all love my dear son, Lady Melisandre - and you are the one who saved him when he was on his deathbed - but I shan't make my decision till we actually have prisoners to put on trial. Offer yourself to carry out the sentences then and I'll consider it." The Red Priestess he had placed in his service didn't look particularly pleased at this, but nodded. That was strange. "Benjen."

"Yes, goodbrother?"

"What would you have me do?" Rhaegar looked lost. "I love my dear brides and I hate to see them in such pain when they should only feel joy."

He had known Lya the longest of anyone currently in the capitol, so Benjen could give insight on her moods. "I cannot speak for my goodsister, but my sister is fierce and proud. Give it some time and she'll be happy again to be at Winterfell."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "Even when an insult to our dear Baelon is the reason she is angry?"

Benjen furrowed his brows. "Good point, your Grace." He thought for a moment, settling on something with wide eyes and a grin. "Your Grace, do marriages made under the Faith of the Seven preclude others under different faiths?"

The King blinked. "Um… I'm not sure. I'll have to ask Meribald or perhaps Ser Bonifer on that, since I am not well versed in the practice of the Faith beyond what is required of me."

"If I may, your Grace," spoke Melisandre. "I have seen couples marry in the Red Temple of Oldtown and in one of the septs of the city not long after. They… aren't bothered by the septons there, if that helps."

"Oh, it does," chuckled Benjen. "There is one way that I believe would bring Lyanna the greatest of joy, as it was one of her most desired dreams in her youth - Elia, if she's included in it, would have such joy herself as well."

Rhaegar leaned forward. "Please tell me." As Benjen talked, Rhaegar's eyes lit up. It truly would be the perfect surprise - though he'd need Ned's cooperation for it to work.

Anything for Elia and Lyanna, the lights of his life. His beautiful Dornish Apple and She-Wolf.


"My lady...what is this?" Ned asked, watching with curious, slightly apprehensive eyes as Cersei expertly pulled his hands to the bedpost. Somehow, she had snuck out of bed in the wee hours of the morning and bound them together, only waking him up when they were halfway tied to the thick ironwood of their bed.

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. "No talking, sweet husband. It's time that I take charge for a while." Cersei moved herself down so that she was straddling his waist.

Watching her, Ned found his cock rising - he liked this side of Ceresi and figured that this was going to become more common during the times they were intimate. Cersei adjusted her position so that she was on her stomach between his legs. His eyes widened, as if expecting what she was going to do.

His lioness didn't disappoint him. A warm tongue started to make its way up and down his cock, and at that moment, he wished his hands were free so that he could weave them into Cersei's golden locks - pulling them gently to let her know he enjoyed what she was doing to him. "Cersei, please," Ned moaned as she fully engulfed him with her mouth.

Cersei looked up at her husband, his grey eyes stormy with lust and desire - it made her insides quiver. Winking at him, she continued with what she was doing, drinking in the moans and gasps from the man below her.

Soon, she started to hear him say her name more often, which told her that he was getting close. But she wasn't done with him yet. Cersei pulled her mouth away, causing Ned to let out a groan. She chuckled. "I'm not finished with you just yet, dear husband," Cersei replied in a husky tone, then straddling his waist and sinking down on him. They moaned simultaneously once he was fully inside her - it never got old. "My lord, you better fuck me well," Cersei ordered. "Or I might have to punish you later if you don't."

Barely able to think with her walls clenching around him, Ned nevertheless managed to glance at her questioningly. "And what would that entail, my lady?"

Her smirk made her face all the more alluring. "You'll have to find out then."

She then began to rock her hips back and forth, her walls tightly squeezing around him, making Ned shut his eyes from the pleasure he was receiving. Tip hitting deep against her wombhead, Cersei kept groaning his name as shebounced up and down on his cock. Ned longed to touch her, but the ropes made it impossible - but he was so close and it felt wonderful...

But Cersei had other plans. She slowly stilled herself and maneuvered off of him. Dropping by his side and snuggling against it, the lioness draped an arm across his abdomen. "Cers, what are you doing? You can't leave me here like this," Ned pleaded with his wife. "Please."

"You're tied to the bed. You're not the one giving orders," Cersei replied, running a hand along his well-sculpted body. "Mayhaps I should leave you here for a while… pleasure myself instead and have you watch."

"Damn you to the seven hells, you vile seductress." He meant it more as a jape, but shuddered at her reaction.

Cersei's eyes darkened with lust and then pinned his shoulders to the pillow. "Just for that, I am going to bring you to the edge, but you don't get to break yet. You don't get to cum until I say so."

His mouth went dry. "I'm sorry, Cers, forgive me."

She smiled at him, but didn't relent. "I forgive you...but you're still going to be punished." Sneaking a hand through their down pillow, she removed a single goose feather. Holding it in her hand, she started to tickle his inner thighs with it, making him squirm. Cersei then straddled his waist once more, bringing the feather over the head of his cock.

"Cersei, please, have mercy," he groaned, tightly grasping the ropes. His knuckles began to turn white from how hard he was struggling.

"Maybe you shouldn't have damned me as a seductress," Cersei replied, before repeating the motion a few more times. Ned was begging his wife to let him come - he was so close to the edge. Loving him too much, Cersei eventually took pity on her husband and tossed the feather onto the other side of the bed before sinking down on him again. He groaned once he was fully sheathed, and she began to ride him, her own orgasm so close as well.

Not too long after, his seed was filling her cunt, painting her insides white. She called out his name as her orgasm came over her, her juices coating his cock.

The bedchamber was silent outside of their heavy breathing, sweaty skin pressed flush together as Cersei cuddled with her handsome direwolf. "Cers," she heard him say.

"Mmmm. Yes, my handsome, powerful wolf?"

"I'm, do you mind releasing me from these binds?"

Eyes widening, Cersei realized that he was still tied to the bedposts. She stifled a giggle. "Why? I rather like you like this. At the mercy of the lioness in her den."

"Cers," he said, tone growing slightly irritated… something Cersei countered by kissing him. Shutting him up with her probing tongue and full breasts pressing against his chest.

The kiss left them both breathless. "Oh, alright." She reached up to undo the bindings, deliberately leaving her breasts swaying above his face. True to form, he latched himself to a nipple, making her sigh happily. "Mmmm, that feels so good."

"I love your teats, wife." His mouth and tongue sucked one raw before going for another.

"Oh yes, and they love you…" Finally, the second tie gave way. Cersei yelped as Ned flipped her over, still feasting on her teats as his fingers plunged into her cunt. No other words were forthcoming for the longest while…

About an hour later, the two of them bounded into the private dining chamber with a spring in their step and smiles on their faces - Ned in his fine wool and leathers while Cersei wore a new dress of northern cut but in the Lannister colors… with dark grey direwolves stitched into the fabric.

She was a lion, but a lion of House Stark and intended for everyone to know it.

"Hi, momma!" Robb chimed cheerily. Cersei hugged him tightly where he sat. Pressing her cheek onto his golden curls.

"Morning, momma," Sansa said in her more precise tone, though no less cheery than her brother. Heart filling with affection for her delightful stepdaughter, Cersei pressed a kiss to her cheek, which made Sansa giggle.

"Morning, momma Cersei," little Rickard said, more subdued than the others.

Glancing at Ned with a sigh, Cersei nevertheless kissed the crown of his head. "Good morning Rickard." Cersei was upset at it, but the instant connection she had with Sansa wasn't transferred onto Rickard - she was her daughter, while Rickard was merely her stepson. She still served as the mother figure in his life and she supposed that was good enough. "Theon, you're filling out nicely." Cersei pinched their ward's cheek. "All skin and bones when we got you."

Theon smiled. "The food is better here, Lady Stark."

Better than a southern feast, doubtful. Too plain. But compared to the rotten offal they likely ate on the Iron Islands, undoubtedly an improvement.

"No greeting for me, sweet sister?" Tyrion asked with an exaggerated frown.

Cersei raised an eyebrow. "Would you like the same greeting as Joanna gets?" Pointing to her husband, Ned was currently lifting baby Joanna into the air, the babe giggling and waving her arms as the normally dour Lord of Winterfell made silly faces at her. Cersei watched with an adoring smile. How do I love this man more by the day?

Tyrion, narrowing his eyes at her, grumbled and scarfed down a bite of a buttered roll. "I dread the day when my little nephew will be able to do that to me, a man almost five and ten years his senior."

Robb blinked at Tyrion, only to giggle. "Uncle Little's funny."

The Lady of Winterfell chuckled, kissing his hair. "Yes, he is. Very funny." Not always in an amusing way, though.

Guards opening the door didn't reveal the servants bringing a second course, but Cersei's Aunt Genna. "The Forresters are here to join us."

Smacking a kiss on Joanna's chubby cheek, Ned looked confused. "Forresters?"

"Husband, don't be dense." Cersei swatted him lightly on the arm. "House Forrester are our guests in the keep, the first to arrive for the Royal Progress."

Ned soon recalled it all. "Aye… seems our activities earlier made it slip my mind."

"What activities… never mind, I don't want to know." Tyrion shook his head, going back to his fast breaking to a smirk from Cersei and a wink from Genna.

Led by Jory and the Forrester sworn Sword Ser Royland, the five Forresters entered the private dining chamber and were greeted by Ned and Cersei. Lord Gregor - now a direct bannerman of Ned's rather than under the suzerainty of House Glover - sat at the place of honor with his wife beside him. His two oldest sons sat as well and immediately began digging in, while his daughter Mira sat in between Robb and Sansa, waiting but a moment before she and Sansa started giggling with each other. The two were fast friends, Sansa's second after Jeyne Poole, the daughter of Ned's steward.

"Gregor," Cersei said as they began to all eat together. "I was told by your dear wife that you were greatly surprised that His Grace would be arriving during your stay."

The Lord of Ironrath laughed. "I am certain that your dear husband knew about this yet refused to tell me in his letters." He glared at Ned. "He may look honorable, but he is a devious one."

"I resent that," Ned muttered, though there was a hint of a grin on his face.

Cersei giggled. "You don't know the half of it."

"At least I managed to pack the finery in my wardrobe for the occasion," stated Lady Elissa. A Branfield by birth, her house had fought fiercely at Second Harrenhal and the Bells, rewarded greatly by the Crown after the war. "I'm sure my dear Mira will bring back many of the finest fashions from the south when she fosters at Highgarden."

"It is a good choice," commented Ned. "I've met Garlan both as Rhaegar's squire and now as the Lord… he is an honorable young man, though I'd be careful of Lady Olenna. Her reputation is notorious even here."

"Her reputation is notorious even in Asshai and Mossovy," Cersei remarked, leading them all to laugh.


"This better not make me look like a fool, Stannis," Robert said with a grunt, sitting upon the throne once used by the Storm Kings… their ancestors through Argella Durrandon. "I mean, these bastards have my blood but who knows how their mothers raised them?"

They were certainly good enough for you to stick your cock into them. Lynesse bit her tongue in regards to her goodbrother - it would serve no purpose other than give her temporary satisfaction. "Do not fret, goodbrother. I met with each of them and they're delightful children." In their own way. She had the feeling that it would be she and Stannis that would raise them alongside Shireen. Robert didn't give off the vibe of a good parent.

"Shall I send for them, brother?" Stannis asked.

"No need. Let them in!" Robert bellowed, not one for dithering.

Guards obeying their lord, the doors to the great hall soon opened and the cluster of servants and governesses hired by Stannis in preparation for this led in the four newly-legitimized Baratheons. Robert cocked his head and actually looked with some interest at the four - aside from the eldest girl, they were all strangers to him, but no one could deny whose blood they had. Blue of eye, black of hair. The Baratheon look, passed down from House Durrandon and maintained over the generations.

The seed is strong, as they said of their house.

Lining them up in front of the old Storm Throne, the servants departed, allowing the children to stand on their own. Lynesse gave them a warm smile, Stannis a small one, while Robert remained emotionless.

Mya Stone was the eldest at eight namedays. Robert's acknowledged bastard with a servant girl at the Eyrie during his fostering there, she was a tall, strapping young woman. Hair cut short into a bob - Stannis heard she normally had a more mannish haircut, but Lord Elbert insisted on her growing it out when Stannis first inquired about the girl - she had a mirthful, bubbly personality that near burst with excitement at seeing her father again after so long. She looked uncomfortable in the blue dress she wore, but fit it well.

Beside her was Gendry, still as shy and quiet as he had been at the feast in King's Landing. Tall for his age and strong-looking, there was no denying he was Robert's son… the two looked almost exactly alike, albeit without the gluttonous, brash streak that Robert displayed even in youth. He said nothing, did nothing other than looking at his feet.

Edric Storm was as different from his brother as could be. Unlike the others he had a highborn mother and thus possessed a certain confident air, one that manifested in a fierce display of steadfastness. Stannis found he looked like a young Renly, only burlier and with the large ears of his Florent mother - there was no… finery about the way he carried himself unlike his late brother, a fact Stannis thanked the gods over.

Last was the young Bella Rivers, the one Stannis and Lynesse feared the most of since her mother was now the paramour of Tywin Lannister. The youngest, conceived right before Stony Sept and born during the Red Plague, she was the prettiest of the lot of them. Blue-eyed and black-haired as all Baratheons were, she also possessed a cherubic face that would clearly end up turning into a great beauty… if she wasn't scowling hatefully. Stannis worried - he'd never seen a child with that much hate before.

"Lord Robert," Stannis began. "May I present your children to you. Lady Mya, Lord Gendry, Lord Edric, and Lady Bella of House Baratheon."

Rising from his throne, Robert walked towards the four children, hands behind his back in a rather solemn way that was seldom seen borne by him. He started at Mya, eyeing the eldest girl over without saying a word. Mya though… she looked up at him with adoration. "Papa…"

"Quiet," Robert said tersely, shutting the girl up and causing her to almost cower. Stannis wanted to yell at his brother for that, but merely pursed his lips and glared. "Not a good sign," Lynesse whispered in his ear.

"Be patient," Stannis replied, reflexively defending his brother… just as he'd always done.

Robert soon made his way across the line, looking over each of his newly legitimized children. Rounding around young Bella, the girl's scowl not disappearing even as her father showed up, he proceeded behind them all - none were allowed to turn though, merely feeling the gaze of their mighty sire. The Demon of Harrenhal in the flesh, someone who was famous all over Westeros for his strength and fearlessness in battle in spite of choosing the losing side in Rhaegar's Rebellion.

Finally, Robert returned to Mya. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the worried girl found her father looking down with a warm smile. "Dearest Mya, you haven't lost your cuteness since you were but a babe."

The words brought the smile back to her face, tears welling in her blue eyes. "Oh poppa…" Unbidden, she hugged him, which would've been rejected by most Lords but the garrulous Robert merely laughed and lifted her up with his powerful arms. "I missed you so," she said, burying her face in his neck. "I was afraid you wouldn't come see me as before." The last he had shown up was when she was three, but Mya still remembered.

"Well, things happened," Robert replied, setting her down. "It's all over with, anyways. You're here now and looking a perfect daughter of House Baratheon!" Patting her cheek to her radiant smile, he moved to the next child… his oldest boy. "They say your name is Gendry," Robert said.

If facing the Royal Court was intimidating, facing his immense sire was making the boy cringe. "Aye, mi'Lord."

Robert shook his head. "No, none of that!" Gendry shrunk again, which Robert found unacceptable. "Dear gods, shoulders up, head high, chest out." He moved the boy into a proper posture with his hands. "You are a son of House Baratheon, you must look the part… and call me 'father.' That's what I fuckin' am."

"Brother… don't curse in front of the children," Stannis warned.

"What? They've likely heard it all before. Like you, Gendry. My brother says you worked in a smithy, right?"

"Yes… um… father…"

"See. And I'm actually quite glad - workin' there made you strong. Look at the boy." He gestured to his arms, legs, and torso. "He'll be tall and strapping, a great warrior. Looks the splitting image of our father, Stannis. A fine lad!" Robert mussed Gendry's hair, as good an impression as could be given. The boy seemed sheepish at the praise, but was wearing a tiny smile when Robert moved on. "Ah, look here. A proper posture. You were raised by highborns, no doubt." Edric said nothing. "What's wrong, lad? Afraid of your father?"

Edric looked up, glaring. "I'm not afraid of anyone."

Robert grinned widely. "Oh, this one has a lot of me in him, I can tell. Fearless! Keep it up, boy, and you'll do the House of Durran Godsgrief proud!" A clap on the back staggered Edric, but he refused to show his discomfort.

Sharing a look with Lynesse, Stannis knew they were thinking the same. The boy would need a lot of training not to end up like Robert. He and Gendry would be great knights and highborns, but the latter was too shy and needed confidence while the former needed to learn discipline and restraint. Nothing that couldn't be taught.

And with that, Robert was at the last of the children. "You must be Bella." Bella did not respond, but didn't back down either. "I remember your mother, pretty woman. You look like her."

"Where is she? I want my mama."

"She's not here," Robert said gruffly. "I'm your father, and you're staying with me."

"No!" Bella shouted. "I want my mama!"

Robert's eyes darkened. "Your mama is the whore of that damned lion, so you're not getting her."

She shook from rage. "I hate you!" With a scream she kicked Robert's shin.

Lynesse walked for her, as did several servants, but they were stopped in their tracks by Robert when he picked up Bella with his powerful hands. She squirmed and lashed out with hisses and snarls but couldn't break Robert's strong hold. It was… actually rather comical and ridiculous. Many in the hall tried not to laugh… Mya giggled a bit, while Edric didn't even bother to contain himself. Lynesse though was concerned. "Goodbrother, please put her…"

But she was cut off when Robert laughed uproariously. "Fiesty little girl," he said, grinning at his daughter. "Just like my Lya. Good, good." Bella stopped squirming, but still stared hatefully at her father. "You're just like me, little girl, and I can already tell you won't take shit from anyone. Just like a Baratheon, but don't do that again or I'll whip you, understood?!" Glaring, the idea of a whipping was not something Bella wanted so she just scowled and nodded. "Save that feistiness for anyone other than me." Robert set her down, ahd she merely sulked and crossed her arms. "This is great! My wonderful children are here!" Robert clapped his hands. "Steward, set up a feast for tonight. Time to show them all off to my bannermen!" He headed for the training yard, laughing all the way.

Stannis sighed. "Typical Robert," he murmured. So preoccupied with a feast that he dashed off without spending actual time with his children… or getting them a midday meal that he himself had. "Up to us, I suppose," he told Lynesse.

She nodded. "Aye." Smiling, she looked at each of the children. "You four must be famished."

Gendry looked up. "Do I have to water the horses before I eat?"

"Was that what you had to do at the smithy?" Gendry nodded, which made Stannis sigh. "You're a child of House Baratheon now, nephew. You need not toil in drudgery again." The boy seemed to finally come out of his shell at that.


The day was here. Hundreds of guards and dozens of courtiers were gathered at the royal docks of King's Landing to see off the royal family, the entire royal family, as they sailed for White Harbor to begin the royal progress to Winterfell and Queen Lyanna's Stark family. The aforementioned Queen was understandably excited, as were the entire brood of children. Princess Rhaenys couldn't stop gushing about how she would find a direwolf if it was the last thing she'd do, while Prince Baelon and Princess Daenerys talked about playing in the snow.

It made Lady Melisandre smile genuinely, one of the few times she did so but growing increasingly common as the royal family grew in size with children. They truly brought love to the Red Keep.

"Goodbye, uncle," the King spoke, hugging Maester Aemon tightly. He was the only one of Targaryen blood to be left in King's Landing. "Promise me you'll see things over while I'm gone."

"Do not worry, Rhaegar," replied the old Prince. "I may have turned down the chance to usurp my dear brother, but it wasn't for lack of confidence in my skills."

"I am sure the Prince and Lady Melisandre will keep the squabbling courtiers in check," Lord Tywin stated. He was journeying with the party, ostensibly to give Rhaegar aid in diplomacy with the Northern Lords… but likely more to see his grandchildren and daughter and how they were faring in the North. Melisandre could read people well.

But she was ready for the task. "Rest assured, your Grace. We shall ensure the Lord of Light's will of your rule will be respected." Rhaegar curtly nodded, and the Red Priestess easily resisted the temptation to hug him.

It hadn't been easy early on, for he looked just like the ghosts of the past - it got less problematic with time.

Watching the ships make their way from the harbor, banks of oars slapping into the water and the maze of sails beginning to be unfurled by the sailors scurrying about on the deck, Melisandre was quiet. Contemplative, memories of similar sights of the past bubbling up from the recesses of her mind. In the years since, she had done her best to forget them for all they brought her was pain - but her resolved weakened now.

Now that she was among them again.

As if reading her mind, old Maester Aemon spoke to her… not bothering to turn his head towards Melisandre with his unseeing eyes. "It feels like when I was sent to the Wall, forced to set sail for Eastwatch by order of the Conclave." He chuckled mirthlessly. "They praise the memory of my ancestor Archmaester Vaegon, but I think it was because he largely turned against his family - I never got the same respect or deference from the most of them. Only the iconoclasts like Marwyn or Qyburn."

"Many fear what they don't understand, or they know to be superior towards them… Prince Aemon." She wouldn't look at him. She wouldn't. "There is no doubt if you were younger, you'd be able to claim a dragon, and they knew it then as they do it now."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Mayhaps." Aemon sighed, the weight of years on his shoulders. "I understand why Jaehaerys the Old King sent his daughters Maegelle and Saera to the Starry Sept, but I can only imagine who suffered more - Saera for knowing it was a punishment or Maegelle for not knowing it was."

"Saera, I believe," Melisandre replied, the question actually interesting to imagine. "It is better to be in ignorance. At least then you can be happy instead of burdened with just how much suffering the world heaps onto you."

Aemon tucked his lips between his toothless gums, smacking them. "Forgive me, Lady Melisandre, but you are wrong. Take it from a man that cannot see, but it is best to know than to not - at least then you are able to grow and fight for something better than wallow in ignorance and not change. You should know this better than anyone, considering what you went through." What we went through." Melisandre stiffened at his words. "Your hair color really makes it difficult to realize."

He knows… He likely knew all along. Dignified and honorable, that was Aemon from his youngest days. The sort of man that would sacrifice all ambition out of love for dear Aegon. She had always admired him for that, but now after she had taken so much to put distance… "Forgive me, but I know not what you speak of, my Prince," Melisandre finally said.

But Aemon chuckled again, this time with some genuineness. It led to him coughing, bending over as he hacked out his aging lungs. As if on instinct, Melisandre reached out to help steady him - something she had done before for someone else… someone not dissimilar to Aemon. Eventually, he managed to right himself and calm. "Thank you, my dear. I can see that even ages of bitterness and exile cannot kill that good heart of yours."

Melisandre wanted to scream. She wanted to run away and never look back. But her foot was glued to the deck below, her tongue heavy and only able to speak a few words. "You know little of me, my Prince," she lied. "We have never met."

"My eyes may be completely blind, but your voice... it is unforgettable." He placed a gnarled hand on her shoulder - helping himself up using her as a prop, but afterwards shifting it into a gentle, loving gesture. "I am greatly late in saying this, but welcome home." With that he left the Red Priestess, forced to stand there and alternate between the hobbling figure of the retreating Aemon and the majesty of the sailing vessels journeying away from the great city.

A city that she had once called home.


The gentle rhythm of the boat was easier on some than it was for others. Rhaenys was confined to her cabin, moaning her malady to the entire ship while Egg was on the deck, laughing and cheering with Aunt Dacey and Arthur… somehow he liked the sea, which was a surprise but not a problematic one.

For Baelon and Daenerys, they didn't much like the rocking of the ship but it didn't truly bother them. Having finished their supper, they spent the first night of their trip to White Harbor in the cabin they shared, looking over their eggs like they always did when alone. "These will be ours, Jon," Dany said with glee and wonder. "These eggs are gonna hatch and our dragons are gonna fly out and be our bestest friends."

While he sat with his egg in his lap, Jon watched as Dany got up and headed for the sack again. His aunt reached in and pulled out another egg… the last one, it's sapphire blue swirls unclaimed by anyone. "You brought the lonely one?" That was what they all called it, the poor thing.

Each egg was alive, and loved as one would a child. Those of the dragonblood knew it if no one else did.

Cradling it close to her chest, Dany nodded as she sat back down next to him. "She's without anyone's love, Jon." Sorrow spread on her fair features, violet eyes sparkling with tears. "Think about the little one," she murmured, caressing the egg's scales. "No rider. No love… she needs us, Jon. We're her muna and kepa."

"How are we her muna and kepa?" Baelon wasn't being antagonistic, but he just didn't understand. "Aegarax calles kep, kepa. Jaimexes calls grandmother, muna. I think…" He stroked his own black egg. "This one call me kepa, and yours call you muna… but we're not muna or kepa to other eggs, right?"

Dany said nothing, merely shifting her eyes between Jon, her egg, and the lonely one. "I don't know…" She pressed her cheek to the blue egg for some comfort. Jon recognized that and worriedly set his own egg down, sliding over till he could hug her from behind. "Muna told me something once… that she think Jaimexes and Maerys to be her children both even though Vis rides Maerys."

Jon blinked. "Why did grandmother say that?" The fact she wasn't his sibling but his aunt, sharing different parents, had never fazed Jon. For as long as he could remember, she was by his side, and he by hers. She was simply… Dany. Part of his life in a way no one else was.

Always looking at him with utter trust, it was the same for her. They simply felt closer than even to their siblings, not that they didn't love them either. The only thing that could compare was what they felt for their eggs. "She took me to the dragonpit… a while ago. Vis wasn't there, so she greeted both Jaimexes and Maerys. They loved her the same, Jon. She called them both her children."

"Wow." Jon was stunned. "Why?"

"I asked her too. She said cause she hatched them. Hatched them in the fire back when we were little."

"Fire hatches dragons?" That… it got Baelon thinking. Making the connections that his precocious but still childlike mind could only make. "We can do that!"

Dany looked confused. "Do what?"

"Hatch the dragons, silly. We can find fire and do that, then the dragons will all be hatched and we'll get to ride them and make sure they're never lonely and be their muna and kepa forever and ever," he gushed, beaming and patting his egg.

"Jon, we can't use fire… your kepa and munas will kill you, and my muna will kill me." It wasn't often that they truly triggered the ire of their parents, given that their cuteness usually melted everyone in the Red Keep, but playing around with fire was something different entirely. Even at six namedays Dany understood that.

The irony at it all was lost on them both, Jon being the one coming up with an insane idea and Dany being the cautious one.

But Baelon only giggled, shaking his head. "It's perfect, Dany. Munas and kepa will be so happy, cause we hatch more dragons! Two for us, one for Rhae, one for Egg, one for Lyssa, one for Cella. More dragons for our house… just like in the stories." He could envision it, the dragons of the days of Old King Jaehaerys - Vermithor, Silverwing, Caraxes, Vhagar, Meleys, Dreamfyre, Balerion the Black Dread. So much did Jon wish for that to be their reality and if they hatched the eggs it could be. "Did grandmother tell you how she did it?"

Shaking her head, Dany was saddened when his face fell. "No… she only told me she hatched them with fire." It was odd, since her muna was always so candid to her… especially about matters involving their ancestry and ancient culture. "Nothing else."

Grumbling, Jon pouted on the bed. "I'm just gonna have to find a way for grandmother to tell me, then we can hatch the dragons."

"Jon, she'll never do it if she knows what we're thinking."

He thought for a moment, then grinned. "She won't know."

"She usually knows when we're doing something naughty."

"When you do something naughty, Dany." Going along with her games paid off, cause no one expected him to do anything devious. Munas and kepa and grandmother will be happy that I hatched the dragons. His gleeful smile didn't once leave his face.

He'd just need to find time to approach his grandmother.

A/N: And the targs are heading North... and Jonerys has a little plan going ;)

Ned and Cersei are frisky ones. How else are we gonna get Arya? Big thanks to Mrs. Longclaw who helped me out with that scene :D

So the four bastards of House Baratheon are finally introduced.

Next up, Dragons in Winterfell.