"Riding?" she said, not hearing her brother at first.

"To see all this country, Jessamyn," Robert announced. He was dressed in fresh riding leathers, the red Redfort emblazoned on his surcoat, a pair of riding boots in his hand. "Summer is not yet over, and the bottomlands are wide and open and lush. There's no better time to go for a ride than right now. Come. It's been too long since we've gone. Has me doubting if you even remember how to mount a horse."

"My memory is not so lacking as that." Though it had been a while since she had gone for a proper ride ahorse, with the Eyrie having no space nor stables, and the Redfort deep in the southern mountains.

"Good," Robert said, handing her the boots. "We'll be back before Lady Jeyne finishes with the petitioners."

Her door was shut the next, and Jessamyn chuckled at the boots in her hands. Robert had not changed one whit since his time in King's Landing, nor by the attack on the high road, nor the coming war. Still the loud and confident knight he always was. When the Falcon Court had made its descent down the Giant's Lance for the Gates of the Moon, it was her brother she had embraced first, stricken with worry at the news Aegon had carried. Yet her brother had been unbothered, laughing as he hugged her back. He even seemed to stand a little taller.

Taller, and certain that the knights of the Vale will triumph in this war. Jessamyn did not know anything of warfare, no more than any of her little sisters did. But my sweet Jeyne knows some. Maester Guyne had brought with him every tome and scroll about the wars in the Vale, and Jeyne had spent many a night since the banners were called studying over them. Most of the books were so old that they spoke of wars between kingdoms, before the Conquest itself. Would any of them be of help now? She did not know.

But she knew that a dragon would change everything, especially with Aegon as its rider. Dreamfyre was a massive beast of blue and white scales. Fire made flesh. The mountain clansmen wouldn't be able to stand a chance, and they would kneel and do fealty to the Eyrie, if any of them had any sense to see the reality of their situation. But none of them do. They're all savages fighting with bronze weapons and worshipping false gods.

Changed into her riding leathers, with the boots replacing her slippers, Jessamyn sought out her brother. The Gates of the Moon was a stout castle at the base of the Giant's Lance, far larger than the Eyrie itself. Here the stone was grey and thick, the yard twice the size, walls high with crenelations, with a moat surrounding it all. Her chambers were in the Falcon Tower, a room adjoining Jeyne's own, and down the steps she passed servants and knights of House Arryn. Further on were the others. Ser Myles Crayne was the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon and his household had swelled after the banners had been called. Every lord and knight of the Vale was to converge on the castle for the war council, and with them came their levies, and their ladies.

Lord Belmore had come with all his daughters, the young Lord Melcolm with his unmarried sister, and Lord Hunter with nearly his entire house. The Knight of Ninestars brought with him four of his brothers, his lady wife, and both of his children. Old Lord Ruthermont was with his many nephews, Lord Waynwood with his sons, and Lord Corbray with all his marshaled force, a dozen petty lords and twice that in landed knights. Even her own lord father was said to be bringing the majority of their house, her brothers and sisters, uncles, and cousins. And the Gates are already crowded enough. Jessamyn couldn't go three steps without chancing upon someone of import, every chamber within the Gates occupied, and she knew it would only grow worse. Many of the lords and knights were still traveling, and with them would come freeriders and sellswords, merchants and retainers.

With the castle so crowded, the outer yard was given over to guests to raise tents and pavilions, leaving only the smaller inner yard for training. As Jessamyn looked for her brother, she saw twoscore knights sparring and a dozen more ahorse going at a quintain, while archers loosed into strawmen wearing old leather armor, and grizzled men-at-arms fought hand and dagger. Ser Myles himself was speaking with some of the younger knights on the proper guards with a longsword. Squires were running about on errands for their knights, or watching those at training, or sparring amongst themselves. The younger pages looked on enviously, and gaggles of ladies watched from the balconies, whispering to one another. Why are they all here? Jessamyn misliked so many of them being together. The Falcon Court had swelled in numbers just as the host gathering outside the walls had.

"Jessamyn!" called her brother's voice. She found him by the castle gates, the iron portcullis raised, and the drawbridge lowered. He had the horses saddled, and she found that there would be others accompanying their ride through the bottomlands. "You remember Ser Jaime Hunter and Ser Andrew Hardyng? I've written many a letter about our great deeds."

"I remember." Jessamyn took the reins from her brother, waved off his offered hand, and hoisted herself into the saddle. "Ser Warrior and Silent Andrew. My brother is fond of telling tales of your adventures."

"Hopefully the embellishments were at a minimum," said Ser Jaime.

"Where would the fun be if it was all true?" Robert asked, wheeling his horse around. He didn't see Ser Andrew shaking his head. "Come! We have a country to see!"

Her brother put heel to horse and they were off. Beyond the gate and across the moat lay a veritable town of tents and pavilions. Jessamyn counted a dozen different banners before they all became one blur. The banners had been called and the Vale had answered. Knights and men-at-arms by the hundreds were present. Many sat at their tents eating, japing, and talking. Others were sparring, whoring, and playing. Squires and boys ran underfoot. Ironmongers and blacksmiths had set up forges, their hammers ringing through the air as Robert led them down the neat avenues between the tents. The poets and singers were in force, all wanting to compose the next great song about the war and the knights. Merchants with their wagons and carts shouted their wares, while woods witches and hedge wizards emerged to heal any malady and ailment with their potions and salves, and septons and septas came to bless the warriors heading off to war. Vale chivalry was on full display, many a knight honing their horsemanship for the onlookers, the raiment of their horses bright and colorful, their plate gleaming in the sunlight.

They all rode well, the Vale knights, but Ser Andrew thought otherwise, and said as much as they reached the edge of the tents. "Lances will prove useless in the foothills. The ground is uneven, the trees thick and tall, the horses unaccustomed to it."

"The clansmen have horses," Robert said.

Ser Jaime agreed. "But they are smaller. More suited to mountain paths, I think. Not like the chargers and destriers we ride."

"Are they even good horsemen?" Jessamyn asked, as they slowed to trot. "I thought the wildlings were all savages who preyed on the weak and stole what they could."

"That they are, my lady," said Ser Jaime. "But they are vicious fighters with their stolen weapons. Even our party returning from King's Landing was not enough to deter them."

"But what a fight that had been!" Robert laughed. "You should have seen me, Jessamyn. I was swinging at them left and right. None of them dared come at me after I lopped off the first fucker's head! Ha!"

"A knight should not enjoy killing, Robert."

"Aye," Andrew said, "but we men are simple creatures, and some simpler than others."

"Bah!" Robert went. "Didn't the gods make us in their own image? So, by that reasoning, we're supposed to enjoy killing savages and traitors."

"That… is a certain way of looking at it," said Ser Jaime.

"Seems like the gods are on our side then."

Jessamyn chuckled. "Have you suddenly found the Faith, brother?"

"Who says I lost it in the first place?"

"I can think of quite a few," Ser Jaime said, and Jessamyn saw Ser Andrew grinning.

Here the bottomlands stretched out into the east. Away from the Gates of the Moon with its town of tents and the road up to the Bloody Gate, it was a tranquil land of rich black soil, calm rivers, crystal clear lakes, and hundreds of small hamlets and villages and stone towers. Fields of barley and wheat and corn went on as far as the eye could see. The road was little more than a dirt path, stretching alongside the fields bordered by wooden fences, with a stone holdfast in the distance. Jessamyn spotted the occasional fieldhand walking amidst the tall stalks. A little girl was playing with a ginger cat, while two boys were playing at swords with sticks, and Robert shouted encouragement to them with his booming voice.

Then the horses skittered when the shadow fell upon them.

Jessamyn fought with the reins as the dragon flew overhead. "Gods be good," Ser Andrew cursed, his horse stamping at the ground and huffing. The girl with the cat shrieked at the sight of Dreamfyre, and some of the fieldhands fell with shock, but the two boys looked on slack-jawed, their sticks forgotten. "Dreamfyre!" Robert cheered, while Ser Jaime handled his steed in good order, watching the she-dragon with a hint of a smile.

The sight of such a beast had a hint of worry tightening in her stomach. It was one she couldn't shake, no matter the conversations had, the agreements made, understandings come to. But I can trust Aegon. I have to. They were friends, as the knight had put it himself, in his own words. But that dragon of blue and white was the change that had come to the Vale. Jessamyn could only guess at how things would shape in the coming months. Mayhaps nothing would change, and her worrying was for naught? No, only a fool would think that. Aegon and Jeyne would marry, for the stability of the kingdom, because the political reality of the Vale demanded it. And then what? Her sweet Jeyne wouldn't set her aside, she was not so cruel as that. But Jessamyn couldn't help but notice the way she looked at Aegon as well.

"He's coming for a landing," Ser Jaime called. "For the open field."

"Ha!" Robert wheeled his horse about. "Come on. Last one there is a rotten apple! Ha!"

Jessamyn could only follow the knights. Stalks of corn and barley were nearly flattened by the power of Dreamfyre's wings. Aegon looked small chained to the massive saddle. Only the broadest of his features were decipherable from this distance, the color of his surcoat, the shape of his face. Dreamfyre looked more menacing up close, her maw filled with teeth as long as a man's forearm, the ridges on her neck interlocked like a knight's scale armor but strong enough to deflect most any blow. Her underbelly was white, but the scales grew bluer the farther up the body they went, and at the top the blue was dark. There was a beauty to it all, she could not deny. A species utterly unique, as were each of its members. Dreamfyre was slender as she was majestic, eye catching. Jessamyn urged her horse as close as it would go, resigning herself to being the rotten apple.

The ground shook as Dreamfyre settled and folded her wings. By the time Aegon had unchained himself and dismounted, Robert was already waiting on foot, and Ser Jaime was quick to follow. "It's as if common sense goes missing when a dragon appears," Ser Andrew said, still ahorse. "And I speak not of the golden kind."

Jessamyn eyed the knight. "Dragons are rare things."

"Hmm… But I wonder which is more dangerous."

The knight vaulted from his horse, rounded it, and offered her a hand. Jessamyn waved him off and swung down from her own saddle with ease. She was a lady drilled in courtly courtesy, but no stranger riding on horseback, nor so meek as to need help dismounting. Though it did feel odd to go without a skirt. Ser Andrew made no comment on either, and simply took her horse's reins in hand, staying back from the dragon.

Aegon was laughing with her brother and Ser Jaime when she approached. "My lady," he greeted. "It's good that I've chanced upon you four here." He nodded to Ser Andrew, who waved from where he stood with the horses. "A beautiful day for a ride, and a fly, no?"

Ser Jaime agreed. "A beautiful day, but I shall take your word on how it feels in the air."

Robert coughed into his hand, though it sounded like he said something. He got an elbow in the side.

"Don't worry," Aegon said. "One of these days I'll bring you all along for a ride. Seeing the world from up high is an experience I can't describe." He smiled. "But now I must ask you both to keep Dreamfyre company for a moment. There is something I must discuss with Lady Jessamyn, privately."

"Privately?" Robert crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow, looking ridiculous. "I'm intrigued. Should I be concerned for my sister, Aegon? For her… propriety, is that the word?"

"Virtue may be more apt," said Ser Jaime. "Or honor."

Jessamyn huffed. "I am not incapable, brother, nor a helpless maiden. And if you must know, I have spoken with Aegon before and resisted the urge to throw myself into his lap."

"What?" Her brother threw an arm across Aegon's shoulders. "You resisted this handsome face?" Aegon's blush did not deter him. "The ladies in King's Landing were all but falling over themselves to speak with him. Willam told us that during the midday meal with some Westerman lord, one bold lass had her bodice laced so tightly that her tits were pushed to here and she could barely–"

"Nothing of the sort happened," Aegon said, stepping out of Robert's embrace. His cheeks were red. "My coz may have embellished the story some for your enjoyment. Lady Alys Lefford simply had a tendency to lean forward while we ate. And no, it was not laced so tightly as that. Now, my lady, if you would."

Jessamyn chuckled at the crestfallen look on her brother's face and turned back for the horses. Ser Jaime shook his head at Robert. The she-dragon exhaled smoke from her nostrils, that black eye seeming to watch them all at once. Aegon said something to her in High Valyrian, and Dreamfyre gave him a long blink and nothing more.

They were halfway to the horses when her brother yelled to them. "Were they at least big?" he called.

"Apples!" Aegon returned over his shoulder, and Robert threw his hands up into the air, curing the apples, while Ser Jaime's laughter peeled through the air.

"Apples?" Jessamyn asked.

Aegon shook his head, meeting her gaze. He held up his hands. "Lefford's breasts were the size of apples."

"So… smaller than mine own?"

Jessamyn laughed at the face Aegon made, his mouth perfectly round, lilac eyes blinking. She put her hands to her leather bodice just to make sure he understood, and laughed anew when Aegon rolled his eyes and blushed red. Her hunting greens did not show the shape of her body, but they did not hide it either. They were both laughing by the time the returned to Ser Andrew, and the knight looked at them both as if they had gone mad.

By the time they found a quiet place beneath the shade of a tree, Aegon's laughter fell to chuckles, and Jessamyn couldn't wipe the smile from her lips. Dreamfyre was in the distance, with some of the nearby children gathering the courage to edge closer to the beast, while the fieldhands were more wary. Ser Jaime took his duty of watching over the dragon more seriously than Robert did, who entertained the children.

Aegon sat on the exposed roots of the tree, the last chuckles trailing away. "Apples," he said to himself. "I told you the story about the merchant and Robert's rotten apples, right? Gods be good. Apples. Have you ever had something so simple be the cause of such laughter? I mean…" He chuckled. "A barrel of rotten apples."

"Slippers," Jessamyn said as she stood over him.

"Slippers?"

"Aye. Slippers." She sat beside him on the roots, chuckling at the memory. "One morning, years ago, when I was simply her bed maid, Jeyne had been in such a hurry that she took my slippers instead of her own. So quickly that I hadn't noticed either. It was only during dinner that we realized. 'How did it feel to be the Lady of the Eyrie?' she asked me. I had no idea what she was referring to, but then she pointed at my feet. Since I was wearing her slippers, I would know how it felt."

Aegon nodded. "To walk a mile in another's shoes."

"I… I still don't fully get what she was talking about," Jessamyn said. The chuckles came unbidden. "I don't think she knew either, not fully. As a matter of fact…" She looked at Aegon with a new eye, taking in that sly smile. "Jeyne said that she got it from you. The musings of a wise man."

"It's been said that I am wise for my years." Aegon smiled. "Jeyne once said that I have an old soul."

She chuckled at that, and for a time they sat side by side in silence, watching the little crowd gathering around Dreamfyre. The dragon didn't seem bothered by any of the onlookers, while Robert did his best to entertain the children, while Ser Jaime reasoned with the fieldhands and the passing knight. Ser Andrew had taken to brushing down his horse. "What was it we needed to speak in private of?" she asked.

"Come to think of it, I can't remember." Aegon nudged her elbow with his own. "Mayhaps I just wanted to speak with you, away from the Falcon Court and the rest of them. Just us, two friends."

Jessamyn nudged him back. "Just friends?"

"Mayhaps in another life we might have been more, but I think you and I will remain just that, friends." He chuckled. "Don't give me that look. I can see how you are with Jeyne. You're not like that with anyone else, and I don't think you want to be. I wouldn't ask it of you either."

"And… what of you?" Jessamyn asked. The words felt clumsy, thick. "Have you–"

"That is the furthest thing from my mind right now," he said. "There's a war council to prepare for, a war to fight, a great host to organize. Then there's the wedding and all that comes with it, even if nothing is official yet, and my lady mother has not even been informed. Gods help us."

"Right." She didn't like how the conversation had turned such a way. "Thoughts of a mistress come only after the wedding."

"Mmm. Like I said before. I'll think on it, but I can make no guarantees. I mislike breaking oaths so recently sworn, and those sworn in front of the gods at that."

She didn't understand why he held such reverence for the gods. It didn't make sense. But mayhaps it wasn't supposed to. Men are curious, no two alike. "You'll protect her no matter what?" she asked, the question unbidden.

Those lilac eyes looked to her, searching her face. "I would sacrifice mine own honor for her… and I know you would do the same, and why." Then he stood and dusted himself off. "We might be the only two who truly understand."

Jessamyn nodded. She stood. "We'll love her and protect her. Together."

There was an emotion in those lilac eyes. She didn't know what it was. "Together."