A/N: Hey all. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone :)
Enjoy.
Chapter 93: All my Children
"I still can't believe it worked!" Rhaenys was on a cloud… first the direwolves finally returned and entered her life, and now she hoisted her bonded dragon hatchling into the air. She flapped her wings and shrieked, but Rhaenys had a tight hold on her belly. "Nymerion, the greatest dragon there is!" The color of blood-orange, the Martell color, Rhaenys knew she was meant for her.
"Nuh unh, Syrax is the best!" Dany huffed, holding her cream dragon. "She's the most beautiful dragon." Her own hatchling was a prideful beast with a sense of her own beauty, but with a mischievous streak just like Daenerys did.
A snort. "Wrong, Valyrax is the best! The biggest and the best." Everyone thought their dragons were the top ones, but Prince Baelon knew his black dragon had them all topped. Gods, he loved his hatchling… more than anyone except Dany, Sansa, and perhaps his munas and kepa.
"Aye, he is the biggest," Egg commented, stroking the scales of his own dragon Tessarion. "But size doesn't always matter."
"Speed best!" Alyssa insisted, running around the room with the aptly named Stormfyre, equally as wild and fierce as his bonded rider. So also well matched was the beautiful Goldenwing, the male beast bonded to Princess Myrcella.
"Way to make us look like chumps," huffed Artie, though alongside his cousin Allyria and the young Greyjoy boy they couldn't really be mad.
"I'll let you ride Stormfyre," Alyssa offered, which made him smile. The only one not smiling was Asha, though she didn't smile at much.
Smiling as Dany continued to lavish Syrax with love and attention as if the she-dragon were a babe, Sansa's gaze shifted to the pillow - a sad frown forming on her face. "One's without a name."
"What… oh." Dany sighed. There, sitting on the pillow with a lowered head and almost wilted wings was the blue dragon, lone among the others not to have formed a bond with anyone. No one was willing to separate her from the rest of the hatchlings - her brothers and sisters - but it was clear from how she looked at all of them that she longed for a bond companion. "It's so sad…" Dany felt tears pricking at her lids.
"She didn't bond with anyone?" Egg was incredulous at the idea. Tessarion had practically climbed all over him upon first contact - the two were inseparable. "We can take her to Vis, or Dae, or Ric…"
Rhaenys shook her head. "Kepa already did that. She nudged them with her snout but otherwise nothing." While dragons were great with their rider's children and cordial with other Targaryens, only a bond-companion could coax out their true affections. Hence why Nymerion was currently fast asleep curled in Rhaenys' lap while no one else but perhaps Jon or Dany could get anything close to such love - and only because they hatched them. "The hatchling isn't destined to be ridden by any of our siblings."
"No!" Alyssa stamped her feet, which Stormfyre mimicked with his wingclaws… it was comical when the cute little Princess did it, and even more when the still gangly hatchling followed. "No, no dragon alone. We find good rider for blue," she insisted, running to the hatchling and scooping her up. The blue dragon screeched lightly in surprise, but accepted the touch of one of the Targaryens… Yet it only seemed to arise a sense of jealousy and possessiveness in Stormfyre, who flapped over to where his rider was and shrieked at his sister. A shriek was returned, and the two snapped jaws at each other.
While most of the royals were laughing at the insanely funny scene, Robb - worried that a fire might start - rose to stop it. "Lyssa, enough. Let it be… ow! Hey!" The blue dragon nipped him with her jaw, glaring as if protecting her nest. Robb shook his hand, seeing a tiny cut. "Maybe she doesn't have a rider cause she's a mean dragon."
"Oh, cousin, stop it." Baelon rolled his eyes. "Dragons are not mean, fire and blood is their nature." He patted Valyrax on the head, the black dragon almost preening. You're the best, boy. The biggest and the best in the world. You're Balerion reborn and I'm the Conqueror come again. They called him that after all.
"Her bite says otherwise," Robb mused, rubbing his wound which was already starting to clot.
Rhaenys shook her head. "You're not a dragon, Robb. They'd react to you or Sansa or Ally or Artie or Asha the same way. Especially Asha," she teased, earning a balled up sock smacking her in the head. That only widened her smirk. "Just like I'd advise a non-Stark to not approach muna's direwolf, Spirit."
"You're not a Stark, viper," Asha stated.
That drew a real ire from Rhaenys. "I am so a Stark! I'll have a direwolf one day just like muna!" Nymerion hissed at Asha, who merely shrugged in her bored tone while Theon flinched next to her. Cella thought it was hilarious and burst into giggles, Goldenwing chirping upon her head.
"Calm down, both of you!" urged Egg. speaking loudly. While even brooding Baelon was known to yell on occasion, Egg was normally the most quiet of them all and so his yells had great effect. Though immediately he blushed. "Sorry, Rhae."
She inched over to him. "No, valonqar. It's fine." Rhae kissed his forehead, all placid again.
Not having spoken for a while, Sansa finally piped up. "Maybe she's just mean cause she doesn't have a name."
Many pairs of eyes found the redhead, who blushed at the attention. "A name?" Dany thought for a moment. "That's right! Poor thing is still called 'blue' or 'the blue dragon.'" While Syrax was perched on her shoulder, Daenerys went and scooped up the little hatchling, now hanging from her arm. To any objective observer, it would be massively adorable. "She needs a name, and as her muna I will pick the best one. Baelon?"
Dragged out of his daydreams of riding on Valyrax as the most powerful dragonlord since Aegon or Maegor, Jon blinked. "What?"
"Ugh… Rhae, you're up."
Pursing her lips, she thought. "Wasn't there a dragon called the Blue Queen?"
"That's my dragon, Rhae!" Egg protested.
"Oh… embarrassing," she deadpanned.
Dany shook her head. "Ally?"
Allyria was quick. "Meraxes, after Rhaenys the Conqueror."
"Tempting… tempting…" Seemed good to her, but was a bit… simple to her. Obvious. "Cella?"
"Maybe Oceanwave?"
"Nah, not right. Lyssa?"
"Bluefyre! Bluefyre!"
"We already have a 'Fyre.' Egg?"
He shrugged. "Sansa's idea. She should get first crack at naming her."
Dany agreed with that. "Sansa, what do you think we should name her?"
"Oh… me?" She demurred. "No, I can't."
"What do you mean? You can. It was your idea."
"Yeah, Sans, do it," insisted Robb.
"Do it, Sansa," Rhaenys added, drawing everyone except Baelon into urging her.
The girl noticed it. "Baelon?"
He gave her a piercing look with his violet eyes that reminded Sansa of when they first met in the Weirwood vision, the same look Dany also gave her. "Please… I wanna hear your idea."
How could she say no to that? "Um… maybe…" Looking at the dragon, who was staring at her with icy blue eyes, the color immediately reminded her of a necklace her stepmother wore. A large pendent of sapphire stones. Sapphire… "Saephyra," she announced, pronouncing it in the Valyrian way like everyone pronounced Dany's full name. "Name her Saephyra."
"Saephyra…" It rolled off the tongue, and Dany immediately noticed the dragon chirping and bobbing up and down at the name. "Aye, Saephyra it is!" Sansa beamed at her choice being chosen, which led to Baelon hugging her… she minded it not, hugging back even with a squirming hatchling in between them.
The little gathering finally, gradually drew to a close as one by one the maids and guards began to take the children to their chambers - all of them wary of the dragon hatchlings which was amusing to the royals. Tyrion came to fetch Robb last of all, opening the door very slowly in case of a potential ambush. His role as Loren Lannister turned out to be a recurring one, and he still had a twinge in his back that the Wintertown brothel hadn't cured. But all were behaved this time… which made him instantly suspicious as he took Robb out.
Finally, Cersei arrived minutes later. She would've accompanied Tyrion but a bout of the stomach malady thanks to the babe in her belly waylaid her. As such, she would just be picking up Sansa. "May I enter?" she asked, always respectful of the privacy of her daughter and her royal goodfamily.
"Come in, momma," Sansa called out. Cersei entered to find the dragons scampering about over Jon and Dany, flapping their wings. Sansa, giggling, stroked the scales of the blue one and the hatchling seemed to enjoy it. "I picked her name!" she bubbled excitedly. "Just like your necklace… the blue one!"
She was confused. "My sapphire necklace?"
"Aye, Aunt Cersei. Saephyra." Baelon was clear on the Valyrian pronunciation, both on a matter of pride and to not earn Dany's scolding.
"Is that a fact? And Sansa chose it, wonderful." While the mother in her was glad to see Sansa making friends with her family, her father in her saw that she was ingratiating herself with the royal family… the heir at that. Everything good could come of this. "Time for bed, dear pup." At seeing a put out expression on Sansa's face, Cersei immediately had an idea. "Unless you would rather stay here for the night?" Princess Daenerys slept in the same chambers as the Crown Prince, so what was the issue if Sansa did so? They were all but six namedays.
Sansa's eyes lit up. "Really, momma?! Yes please!"
"Yes, Lady Stark, please?!" Dany begged, giving her wide, pleading eyes. They were as convincing as Sansa's look when she tried to charm something out of Ned.
Cersei wouldn't have fallen for it, but she wanted this too. "Alright, but you have to go to sleep at once. I'll inform the Queens of this arrangement." While excited squeals and dragon hoots followed, only minutes later all were passed out underneath the furs, nestled together.
A prelude if I have anything to say about it. Cersei was grinning as she shut the door, already laying out plans for the future.
"You are so beautiful." An amazing set of lips kissed down from Rhaella's mouth across her cheek, reaching her ear and taking a lobe in his mouth. "The most beautiful dragon."
"Mmmm…" Jaime was the epitome of a chivalric knight. Noble, strong, erudite… the kind of man that could fight in five trials by combat triumphantly and then recite a poem for her - Rhaella, however, figured it was only for her. Her love driving him to such nobility. Gods, she adored it. "Tell me more."
Jaime kissed and licked down her neck, lavishing it with attention that she'd need her maids to help cover with her hair. "You don't see how gorgeous you are… the things you do to every man in your orbit." A shudder coursed through Rhaella at his words - she hadn't truly, not since Bonifer but returned at Jaime's lust and love.
Only now, even as his magic touch assaulted her in the wee hours of the morning, Rhaella wasn't feeling the same burning lust that harkened back to that of a wanton maiden seduced by a life of debauchery. Too much plagued her mind… a tempest she couldn't control.
Her seemingly dazed responses were quickly noticed - first Jaime tried to increase his ardor, lavishing attention at the spots on her body he knew drove her wild, but when that didn't work he drew back, collapsing against the bedding in a huff. "What's the point of having a lover half your age if you're not going to enjoy him?"
Rhaella shook her head. "I enjoy you plenty, Jaime," she huffed back. "The night before wasn't enough to sate your urges?"
"Perhaps if I was in the bed of an ordinary maiden, aye, but with you… gods, I cannot help myself."
"Yes, I know when the doors close to our bedchamber you become more lion than man," Rhaella shot back, though this time she couldn't hide her smile. Was she truly mad at him? No. "Forgive me, my love. Your touches were wonderful, but…"
He reached up to squeeze her shoulders. "What's stressing you, my love?" Before she could respond, Jaime shushed her. "It can't be me, because you would've said it already, and if it was Rhaegar you'd be conferring with the Queens at this moment. I'm going to guess… either the Realm or the children."
Without prompting, Rhaella surged and kissed him thoroughly, pulling back to breathe as her violet eyes sparkled with love. "You know me so well and I love you for it." Caressing his cheek, she finally sighed. "It's not the Realm. Those worries are so constant that I've learned to put up with them."
"Ah, so the hatchlings then, our darling among them." Seeing their little Cella with a dragon in her arms… Jaime could see the same fierceness her mother and elder sister had in those moments and it pleased him greatly. "Wouldn't their bonding with your House's ancestral beasts be a good thing, my love?"
Another sigh. "I must sound ungrateful and rather neurotic about this gift of the gods."
"Never." He wrapped his arms around her, palms resting on her breasts - rather intentionally it seemed, though Rhaella never minded. "Just tell me."
"I love that they are dragonriders, Jaime, bonded with their mounts, but they never knew a time without dragons. Myself, Rhaegar, we were raised with the sense of humility knowing we weren't completely secure in our reign. For good or for ill, the hatchlings will never know that." Rhaella's voice was half-astonished, half-prideful. "Ten dragons, Jaime. Ten! All with bonded riders. Ever in the run up to the Dance we never reached that level."
"Something to be proud of, especially for me." She raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how earth-shattering it is for me to be ridden by a woman that also rides dragons?"
She rolled her eyes, but there was a glint in her eye. Rhaella quickly straddled him. "I am yearning to ride, and Jaimexes isn't in this chamber." Jaime was only too happy to acquiesce.
As the sun rose over the eastern horizon, the put together yet fully satisfied dowager Queen passed by Sandor Clegane, standing guard at the door to the Crown Prince's guest chambers. "Is my daughter within?"
Sandor nodded. "Aye, long with the Stark whelp." Rhaella didn't need to ask more to know it was Sansa. "She'd been around those two every night."
This surprised her. "Every night?"
"Aye. Little Bird's just like the Princess. Think they sleep in the same bed… that boy is so much like his father…" Sandor shook his head, Rhaella unable to discern if it was a compliment or not.
She thought of it as one - there was no better dragon than her son and Jon could be as great or even greater. Stepping through, she found the three children already awake, fawning over the dragons. "Dracarys," Rhaella heard her daughter say. "Syrax, dracarys.
"What, dra...car...is?" Sansa asked, mushing over the word. She'll have to learn Valyrian.
"Means fire," Jon replied, holding Valyrax in his arms. "Dragons like their meat cooked."
Nodding, Dany urged a tiny bit of raw beef in front of Syrax. "Dracarys, Syrax." The hatchling half-yelped, half-coughed, releasing a tiny puff of fire that singed the meat. Apparently that was enough, Syrax digging into the cube of flesh. "Good girl!"
That moment, Jon looked up and saw his grandmother. "Dany." He nudged his aunt.
Dany looked up. "Muna!" Dany ran over to hug her. "Good morning."
"Good morning daughter," Rhaella said, kissing her head. "You are as good with dragons as I." She beamed at that. "And Lady Sansa, not a hair or fold of your dress out of place."
"Thank you, your Grace," she replied, curtseying.
Sweet and graceful… good thing she has Cersei to raise her to be cunning as well. "Daenerys, why don't you take Sansa to break your fasts? I need to speak with your nephew." Visibly, Jon shrunk back, as if he thought he was in trouble. It was so cute.
Dany snatched up Syrax. "Can I take Syrax and Saephyra?"
"Of course."
"Come on, Sansa." Surprising Rhaella, the redheaded wolf snatched up the sapphire hatchling and followed her daughter out. More and more mysterious. That could be dealt with later though. For now, Rhaella sat on the bed and motioned for her grandson to join her. "Come Baelon."
Still holding a sleeping Valyrax, Jon complied. "Am I in trouble, grandmother?" His eyes were wide and he bit his lip.
He looked just like his father. "No, grandson. In fact the opposite, I'm so proud of you." She hugged him. "Your kepa and munas might be a little miffed at what you did, but I am nothing but pleased." He and Dany were bold, and cunning. Rhaella loved it, but was still concerned. "Just tell me what made you want to do it? Was it Dany?"
Baelon shook his head. "Dany didn't want to at first. I convinced her."
"Why?" In truth, Rhaella was a bit surprised at that.
"The eggs… they needed to live… to be like Aegarax and Jaimexes and Maerys." He cuddled Valyrax close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "But now they're here. We're now like you and kepa… and me with the biggest of them all." Baelon looked up at her, eyes vibrant. "I'm gonna be the best, grandmother. The best and the biggest." He stroked Valyrax's scales. "Our enemies will shake with my fire and blood."
Rhaella leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I have no doubt in your greatness, my sweet Baelon, but you must be careful with your dragon."
"Why? You and kepa bring fire and blood to our enemies."
"Sometimes, but only when it is necessary."
"I will make it necessary." He looked firm. "No one hurt my family ever. I will bring fire and blood to all that try."
She hugged him, feeling a little… unsettled but fully understanding. "Just be careful, alright?"
Baelon kissed her chin. "I love you, grandmother."
There he was, her sweet grandchild. "I love you too." She hugged him closer.
The buzzing of hummingbirds filled the air around the great keep, birds darting towards the ever-growing gardens of flowers to eat their fill of the delicious nectar. While once the noise of the famous denizens of Highgarden once irritated Olenna Tyrell to no end, the effects of old age upon her sense of hearing had the unintended benefit of dampening the annoying buzz. Look at the silver linings, I suppose.
Olenna was doing much of that, these days. While she missed Mace as any mother would, his death and replacement with Garlan had been a blessing in disguise. Hobbling along the walkways of the inner keep overlooking the courtyard, there was no doubt that her son would still be trying to schmooze the King for a royal betrothal for little Margaery. She snorted at the thought of it.
"Hold firm, my Lord… yes… that's it." A sense of nostalgia crossed Olenna's mind as she gazed down into the inner courtyard and saw her grandson Loras training hard. The blonde curls were matted to his youthful forehead by a sheen of sweat, but there was no denying his beauty. Like his brother Garlan before him, the lad was certainly dashing… if with a more graceful quality than his strong brother.
Spinning his practice sword as he and the master-at-arms took a breather, Loras found the battlements and smiled. "Good morning, Grandmother!" he called out, waving.
Nodding, Olenna pointed. "Get some water. You don't want to collapse from dehydration." Loras nodded and complied, Olenna seeing a bright future in the boy - though her observations nagged within her head about his look. Can't be that important if I can't think of it. She turned and wandered back towards the keep.
Within, the Queen of Thorns reached her intended destination rather quickly, unbothered by the servants and guards that darted about on their duties. While she had been greatly beloved in her youth, now that she was the aged grandmother of the Lord of the castle, Olenna had long since traded in such love for respect. It was on Alarie and now Melissa to earn the love of the residents of Highgarden, though they were being given a run for their money by the beautiful lady that Olenna was heading to see.
All of seven namedays, Margaery's eyes lit up as soon as Olenna entered. "Grandmother, look at what I've done." She held up a large square of cloth with a rather sightly image of three trees embroidered onto it. "It's the Three Singers," Margaery beamed. "Do you like it?"
Looking at it, she couldn't help but nod. "Very impressive, grandaughter. You are truly gifted at the feminine arts." Sufficient to obtain a good marriage, but the Queen of Thorns wanted more for her only granddaughter bearing the Tyrell name. I should have her accompany me more about the keep. "You've taught her well, governess."
The governess, a Lady of a smaller knightly house sworn to Highgarden, curtseyed. "I merely instruct Lady Margaery. It is her precocious skill that results in such treasures."
"Treasures, aye." From where Olenna's mind had been wandering, the choice of subject for her daughter's embroidery lesson couldn't have been more symbolically apt. "Finish it up though, dear. Add some detail."
Margaery nodded, her chestnut waves bobbing. "Alright, grandmother."
Oh child… you remind me of myself at your age rather than your idiot aunts. A good thing… a very good thing indeed. Outside, she called over one of the guards. "Instruct Lord Garlan, his wife, and his mother to meet me in my solar."
"Yes, my Lady." Garlan may have been a well-loved, dynamic Lord, but Olenna ruled the roost much as she had when Mace held the title. Such would never truly change if she had anything to say about it.
Her slow pace meant that in spite of her having a head start, her grandson and his mother and wife were already there. "Grandmother, you sent for us?" Twenty namedays, the Lord of Highgarden had turned into a mighty epitome of Reach manhood. He sat close to the Lady Melissa, her hands clasped in his own, a show of affection for the wife far older than he while she looked at him with an equal affection. Olenna approved, even though Melissa hadn't yet bore another child, a sibling to little Willa. "I assume it's important."
"You are correct, grandson." She eased herself into a seat across from them and Alarie. "While I am no prolific gatherer of whispers as Queen Elia or Lord Varys, I do have my connections. It seems that Crown Prince Baelon and Princess Daenerys have hatched seven dragons in the North."
Eyes went wide. "What?" Alarie was shocked.
"Seven," breathed Melissa. "Enough for all of the growing children of the royal brood. They shall be powerful indeed."
Nodding, Olenna clasped her hands together. "Exactly, which is why we have to act if we are going to ingratiate our family to the center of such power."
Garlan groaned. "Grandmother, not this again. I won't be repeating father's mistake of constant alliance-shopping using Margaery."
"Yes… that was distasteful, but Margaery is growing and she will need a good husband… but not one of the royal line."
If the dragons awed them, her latest statement confused them. "I thought you wanted to seek an alliance with the Targaryens, goodmother?"
"Alarie, I do, but to even subtly attempt to seek out one of the Targaryens for Margaery would be… badly taken." She tapped her cane. "Prince Baelon is basically inseparable with Princess Daenerys, and with the dragons born there will be a need to maintain closeness of the bloodlines."
A sigh from Garlan. "Ah, the argument of Jaehaerys I."
"It worked," Olenna replied. "No, we must look for what most of the fools will ignore. There is a cousin to Prince Baelon that I have heard has become rather close to him."
"Robb Stark, you mean?" Given she was a Blackwood, Melissa knew her fellow practitioners of the old gods.
"Precisely."
Garlan winced. "You'd have her move to that frozen wilderness?"
Olenna waved him off. "Oh, she'll be fine, and with the Starks so close to House Targaryen I doubt she'll stay there too much." She stared them all down. "I've planned this for a while, hence seeking to have one of the northern ladies, Mira Forrester, to foster here. Combined with your wife's knowledge of the First Men customs, we can prepare Margaery to properly become Lady of Winterfell."
"I wouldn't be too opposed, but Margaery must marry someone she wants," Garlan insisted. "I made that promise to her long ago."
"What man wouldn't want her?" Olenna found that none of her family had a response to that.
There was something to be said about the North. It's people were hardy and earnest, used to backstabbing and dangerous political games but not the honeyed words or palace intrigue common in the south. Usually, if there was discontent that didn't rise beyond that it was assumed a northman would express it explicitly, and that was what was happening now as Ned and Cersei held their court in the great hall of Winterfell - joined this time by the imposing figures of King Rhaegar and Queens Elia and Lyanna… the latter returned to Winterfell as a Queen rather than the she-wolf she was before.
Some of the Lords that filled Winterfell to greet the Royals looked at her with pride - most notably Howland - but others were simply too affronted by various grievances to care and the complaints began immediately.
"An outrage." Lord Rickard Karstark had been a hard man during the Rebellion and it had only gotten worse in the years since. The loss of his son affected him badly. "It is an affront to the traditions of our people!"
"Calm down, Lord Karstark," Ned proffered, but it wasn't taken well.
The old Lord was close to spitting. "Calm down… you promised that you would respect the integrity of my lands, but there are still Septons proclaiming their false gods upon my people." He pointed to the King. "My son died for your throne. I demand you fix this."
"Careful of how you speak to his Grace," growled Ser Barristan, only for Rhaegar to hold up his hand.
Ned had warned him of this eventuality, and a night of discussions with his Queens left Rhaegar with a possible solution. "I cannot officially expel the Faith from the North, Lord Karstark, but perhaps I could personally ask my good friend the High Septon to voluntarily restrict embassies to the North to where they are not wanted. Would that be suitable?"
"Not nearly enough," grumbled the Lord.
Lyanna had enough. "The High Septon rules the Faith and he wishes not to disturb those that practice the old gods," she insisted. "Or do you believe I would interact with someone who did try to convert me?" Lord Karstark said nothing to that. "I didn't think so." Under the table, Elia squeezed her knee while Cersei cast her a grin.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ned was steadied by Cersei's hand atop his as he waited for Luwin to call the next petitioner among the arrived Lords. "Lord Jon Umber and his heir, Jon." Oh, thank the gods… The Umbers were fiercely loyal to the Starks.
However Greatjon wore a frown on his face, while the much younger Smalljon - no more than one and seven from the looks of him - had an angry scowl. It was obvious that their ire wasn't directed at him or the crown though. "Lord Umber, I welcome you to Winterfell."
"Ned, Lady Cersei," Greatjon curtly replied. "Your Graces." He offered a formal bow of the head to Rhaegar and Elia, while his expression softened at seeing Lyanna with her crown. "Forgive me for impertinence, Queen Lyanna, but it is truly a wonderful sight to see the She-Wolf of the North upon the throne."
Lyanna accepted it, smiling softly. "Thank you, Lord Umber. Your kind words are much appreciated, but simply remember that I am a Targaryen monarch now and so while my heart remains here my priorities are shifted."
Unlike some of the other Northern Lords, who held this in a mix of emotions, Greatjon chuckled. "You are a Queen, wife, and mother, but you are still the same wild spirit I remember. Never change, your Grace." Lyanna shared his chuckle, after which he continued. "My son and I come to beseech you, Ned, and his Grace to focus on a danger developing to the north of Last Hearth."
"North of Last Hearth… you mean the wildlings?" Rhaegar asked.
"Aye, those savages," Smalljon growled. "They've selected a new King Beyond the Wall."
"We are aware, young Umber," Elia replied. "Mance Rayder, a deserter from the Night's Watch. He's been gathering the clans for a while but only recently have I been informed that he managed to secure all the holdouts."
Greatjon shook his head. "Thenns and a few others are still resisting his efforts, but it's only a matter of time and we are concerned. We need more men for the Night's Watch."
"Lord Umber," Rhaegar offered. "While I wouldn't be averse to that, the Watch has been in a sorry state for centuries. Even Lord Jeor Mormont couldn't hope to revitalize it, much as he is respected." Filled with criminals, the King could imagine people like Benjen Stark or Alliser Thorne could whip it up into a semi-decent shape with Aemon providing guidance, but all the competent people were in his own service alongside the wise Aemon. Thank the gods I got him out. "However, I will allow you to supplement your own banners to assist the Night's Watch in their duties. The crown will compensate you for a third of the expenses."
"House Stark will send some of its banners as well, Lord Umber," Ned added, glancing at Cersei. She nodded, smiling - while the Umbers were loyal, Starks needed to be seen assisting them or else the other Lords wouldn't see their Lord Paramount as concerned for the safety of the North. The new Lady of Winterfell could see that.
Eyes flickering about, she noticed that her lady Jeyne Farman had her eyes glued to the young Jon Umber - fuming as he was, he looked at times in her direction as well. While with a child of his own, Smalljon was a widower and she could tell her lady's thoughts. "My Lords, you must be tired from your long journey. If you don't mind we can discuss details later. Lady Jeyne will escort you to your guest quarters."
"My Lady," Jeyne curtseyed, sharing a twinkle with Cersei. "This way, Lord Umber. Ser Jon." Smalljon didn't correct her… eyes too busy raking over her waist.
As the Umbers left, Elia cleared her throat. "The Crown has approved the following fosterings among the Northmen. Lord Roose Bolton's son Domeric will foster at Winterfell at the request of Lord and Lady Stark." The quiet Lord Bolton gave nothing away, only nodding respectfully at the Queen as she spoke. No one trusted him, yet there was nothing but his house's reputation to hold over him… not that Cersei wasn't trying to dig something up. "Lady Mira Forrester will foster at Highgarden at the request of Lady Olenna Tyrell, while Robb Stark will foster at Ironrath when he is of a suitable age." That caused grumbles among the Whitehills and Glovers, the former due to their rivalry with the Forresters and the latter since House Forrester used to be their vassal. "And it is agreed between the crown and House Stark that Lady Sansa will foster at the Red Keep as the Lady in Waiting to myself and Queen Lyanna, while Crown Prince Baelon and Princess Daenerys will foster in Winterfell for one year."
Several whoops came from some of the Northmen at such an honor - no Crown Prince had ever fostered in the North. "Alright then." Rhaegar stood, and everyone bent the knee. "Dismissed."
"That went better than I thought," Lyanna mused afterwards.
"I still don't trust Roose Bolton," Cersei glowered. "And the Whitehills and Glovers will be trouble."
"There will be peace, love," Ned insisted.
Elia shared a look with her wife and goodsister… they hoped he was right, but didn't expect it.
Leaning down, Lyanna dipped the fresh wick in the flame to light a new candle, banishing away further darkness in the bedchamber and allowing her to read the words on the pages. Takes me back. Thinking on her childhood, staying up into the hour of the wolf while reading tales of dragons, warrior queens, and love stories by candlelight, she continued to feel a sense of girlish glee at the reality that her childish dreams actually did come true. If only she could go back and tell her younger self of the future.
There was one difference though. While her nighttime readings in the past were done alone away from others, that night… she was anything but alone. "Go one, muna, go on," insisted Jon, seated cross-legged on his bed and waiting patiently for her to continue.
"Yes, goodsister." Dany, resting on her belly with her head propped up by her arms, was also eager to hear the rest. "Sansa, best part is coming."
"Really, aunt Lyanna?" Eyes as wide as an owl, it was as if Sansa Stark was hearing these stories for the first time.
Beaming at the three of them, Lyanna leaned back in her chair resting next to the bed. Propped open on her lap was her favorite book on the Dance of Dragons by King Viserys, Second of his Name. The ancestor of her children - within, the child she had been let out a squeal of happiness at that thought. "Aye, patient as you pups are, we've reached the duel above the God's Eye."
Jon smiled widely. "Rogue Prince!"
"A mighty dragon fighting for his beloved," Daenerys sighed, no doubt filled with such romantic notions as Lyanna had been.
"I wanna see the dragons!" Sansa insisted, her eyes gravitating towards Syrax - the white dragon was asleep on the furs, curled up into a little ball. Valyrax and Saephyra were both there as well, but curled up in the rafters where they had flapped around before. All seven dragons were growing quickly, and each was attempting flight already, much to the joy of the children and pride of the royals.
"Be patient, pups, I'll get there." Finding her place again, Lyanna read on and on as the minutes ticked by. Watching the three of them hang on her every word as King Viserys narrated the furious clash between Caraxes and Vhagar. The three hung onto every word just as Rhaenys years before and Aegon only months before when she read the book to them - especially Sansa, who seemed in awe of the tales as if it was her first time reading it. Jon and Dany grew up in the shadow of the dragons, while they were just a far-away fact for Sansa.
But when the conclusion of the great duel was read, the fateful last charge of Prince Daemon against his nephew leading to both their deaths and that of their dragons… Baelon was utterly shocked, Sansa quiet while Dany on verge of tears. "They all died…" murmured the Princess.
Sighing, Lyanna nodded sadly. "Aye, they did." Her son and goodsister witnessed Ser Lewyn's death in Euron's assault of the Red Keep, while Sansa had known the death of her birth mother - all three were familiar with loss, moreso than many their ages. They could grasp it. "Daemon sacrificed himself so that Aemond would fall, for he would've ensured the end to his children." Such was how Viserys surmised it.
"But… dragons don't die." Baelon looked pleadingly at her.
"Dragons are mortal as all of us, my son."
"Why did they do that?" Sansa asked. "Why did they fight? They were blood." She couldn't envision ever turning against Robb, Jon, Dany, or her other cousins.
"Cause they didn't love family." It was Dany that answered, hugging her and Jon both. "I love my family. We'll never fight."
Jon nodded firmly. "No, never." Their hug made Lyanna melt. Seeing them yawn only a moment later, she closed the book and tucked them in under the covers - mindful of the sleeping syrax and not bothering to try and get Sansa to go to her own chambers. They really were inseparable. As she left, the last thing Lyanna saw were the hatchlings flying off the other bed to join their sister. It put a smile on her face.
"Those three…" Lyanna turned to see Benjen smirking at her. "A potential successor to the King and his Queens, Lya?"
Lyanna smirked back. "I wouldn't have a problem with that if it were to happen."
"The maidens and young knights of the realm might, three future beauties taken off the market." Ben laughed. "Forgive me, but I'm not here on duty."
"Really? I could technically punish you for insubordination."
"Your directives have no pull to me in our childhood home - here, I am but Benjen Stark and you are Lyanna Stark. The two of us siblings… tough I doubt you mind."
Benjen was right. She didn't mind. "So what has brought my dear brother to deny me from seeking out the warmth of my husband and wife?"
He shook his head. "Don't put those images in my head. I am no Targareyn." That only made her laugh. "Ned requested us to join him in his solar for a drink."
"Oh?" She wasn't about to deny that invitation. "Lead the way then, Ser Benjen."
While she had half-expected Cersei to be there since Lyanna could count on her hand how many times she had seen the lioness apart from her brother, Ned was alone and waiting for them. "Sister," he rose and hugged her, kissing her cheek.
"Dear brother," Lyanna replied. "Where's Cersei?"
A snort. "Am I not enough for you anymore?"
Lyanna shook her head. "Shut up, I'm just asking."
"To answer your question, she was forced to retire after… certain matters." Ned blushed, leaving Lyanna without any doubt as to what they had done before her goodsister went to sleep.
She bumped his shoulder. "Good job, big brother. Always knew there was a wolf underneath all that brooding." Cersei hasn't told him yet. If she had, then Ned wouldn't have left her. Seeing him blush harder, Lyanna relented. "So you have a drink to offer me?"
He nodded. "Aye, a mug of black ale as you like?"
"Gimme," she urged, taking the mug brimming with the delicious liquid. "I certainly missed this down south," she murmured, drinking the brew.
"I can have plenty of barrels sent to the Red Keep and Dragonstone if you want?"
"Please do." Looking to the side, Lyanna noticed all three of their direwolves for the first time. Initially they had been quiet, but were now playfully scampering together, Spirit playfighting with Sprinter while Frost merely watched with observant eyes. "Gods, they're just like we were back before you left for the Eyrie, Ned." Lya sighed. "Oh, how innocent we were then."
"Aye," Ben chuckled. "Me a third son lined up to the watch, you a second son more interested in brooding than anything, and Lya a little monster who made father's hair go grey."
That drew a snort from the Queen. "I don't think that really changed till the end, me giving father grey hairs."
"Least that worked out in the end, you and Rhaegar falling in love… then getting Elia to love you as well." Even after all of it, such still made him slightly uncomfortable in a prudish sort of way, which made Lya and Ben laugh. "Bran wasn't so far behind either." Gods, Ned had honestly lost track of the times he had caught his elder brother entering the brothel in Winterfell or taking a serving girl somewhere private whenever he visited. Least he was always responsible, unlike Robert.
"He was larger than life, that was for sure." The mood grew melancholy. "I still miss him though," Lya murmured, looking away. "I miss all of them. Bran, father... mother."
Ben nodded. "We all miss them, Lya." Although he much too young when she died to properly remember her, he still recalled her motherly love and warmth. "But I assure you that wherever they are now, they are immensely proud of us."
"And with good reason," Ned spoke. "House Stark is even more powerful than even when we were Kings of the North." One of their own was the Queen and mother of the heir, their Lord married to the daughter of the most powerful warden in the Seven Kingdoms, and the youngest child an already renowned brother of the Kingsguard.
"I'm sure they are delighted to know they are grandparents." Thinking of her children, nieces, and nephews brought a smile to Lyanna's face.
"Gods... who would've thought we'd all end up here," Ned murmured, drinking his ale.
"None of us," was Lya's laconic reply as she herself gulped her own mug. That truly wasn't much of a bad thing, though.
A/N: Hope you liked all the names :D
Olenna and Cersei can't help but plot.
Truly, House Stark has come a long way. And it's got plenty more coming with the new generation ;)
Be sure to comment! The more I get the sooner I'll update.
