Chapter 53

Winter deepened in the North. There had been a few battles with wights, but Jon knew that this was only the beginning. He was more secure with the improvements made in all the castles along The Wall as well as in the surrounding areas of The North. He didn't interfere when The Giantsbane came to him with plans to re-take Winterfell from the Bolton's. He listened intently, but followed his vows as he should. He did, however offer his knowledge of Winterfell. He felt no guilt what so ever in doing this. The wildlings and the hill tribes harrassed the Bolton forces for weeks. It was more of a sport, killing here and there. When the overthrown was finally complete, Ramsey Snow was captured and brought to Castle Black. His punishment would be for later.

Lord Ramsey Bolton had somehow escaped back to the Dreadfort. But it wouldn't save him. He was cut off from any way to replenish his supplies so the wildlings took pleasure in setting up camp outside the walls of the holdfast and taunting those inside day after day, it was
only a matter of time.

Jon was quietly impressed with how the help sent from the South had turned Castle Black into a true holding. The underground tunnels were fortified and extended, the heat from the hearths had been directed in such a way that it was used to heat the stables and kennels. The heat from the forge was used to supplement the heat of the barracks.

He had been concerned as to how the glass gardens would prosper, not having the hot springs that Winterfell had but was amazed to see the problem solved by the trenches inside them, filled with heated stones, and covered with metal grating walkways. Water was poured over the stones at times to create the steam required for the vegetation.

Samwell called him to the yard, another caravan had arrived, for some reason this had Sam upset. Jon noted that they had received the requested ghost grass. It arrived in carefully thrashed and tied bundles as well as woven bundles of rope. He was curious to see if it would work, not that he wanted more encounters with the Others than they had already had.

He finally came upon Maester Aemon at the caravan, that's where he found the answer to Sam's angst, wildfire. That explained the underground vault that Lord Tyrion had insisted he had built. The Maester was talking to a small, pale man who was introduced to him as Wisdom Joseth. Jon's skin felt frozen. A bloody pyromancer.

Jon had no idea if wildfire would work against The Others or The White Walkers, he had limited knowledge on it's uses, he just had to trust Sam and Maester Aemon on this. The wildfire had arrived in wagons filled with sand to cushion the movement. He would have to think on this, it might work, as long as no one became foolish and melted The Wall with it.

Wisdom Joseth and Sam were left to oversee the transfer of the wildfire to the vault, well away from Castle Black.

The voyage had started out quietly enough. The weather was calm, winds were in their favor. When they weren't training and sparring, Shalene was teaching them the languages she knew. Sandor was content, his children were healthy and growing, he took pride in Shalene's knowledge and patience with everyone, some of the languages were difficult to learn but she and Tyrion were adamant that they learn them. Meereen was a mixture of so many cultures and peoples, they couldn't be caught not knowing what was being said around them.

He also had a private laugh at Sansa because Elezbeth was determined to learn archery as well as how the use the smaller knives Shalene threw so well. He sided with Shalene in teaching this to Elezbeth, a woman should at least be able to defend herself. Sansa, also, began to see the reason in this and began to take a more active part, learning some techniques herself. Bronn had already shown her a few things, so she picked up on the teachings rather quickly.

He had been training quiet a bit with Jaime. The Lion was fighting well with his left hand, much better than Sandor thought he might. Sandor hadn't known many men who fought with their left hand, he had learned to do it years ago after he had received and injury that forced him to use his off hand or die. Now, it was as natural as his right. He readily and frequently fought with two swords, he had even taught this to his Son, Lucian.

It was during their morning sparring when the alarm was given of approaching ships. As everyone readied themselves for battle, he sent the women and children below deck, Jaxell and a group of Unsullied with them. He turned to Shalene and caught himself before he yelled at her to follow Jaxell. Their eyes met, he could tell she wanted to stay but she nodded to him and kissed him, " I'll go, our children need to be protected, I love you, Sandor." She was gone before he could say a word. He watched her follow Jaxell below deck, amazed that she didn't argue with him for once. He was pulled from those thoughts by Brienne pushing him towards the railing.

As the ship neared, tensions eased when the sigil from Sunspear was seen. Sandor was curious as to why Prince Doran would send someone to them, but as the ship came broadside and was secured to the Desert Rose, it was very evident. Several Dornish
soldiers were given permission to board then a golden haired young woman strode onto the deck. Sandor's first thought was Cercei but as he looked closer, he knew it was Princess Myrcella, she was a beautiful young woman, but she didn't look as much like her mother as he thought she would. She looked so much like Jaime it was almost unsettling.

She was built quite a bit like Shalene; lean, firm, perfectly muscled. She clearly wasn't an idle court flower. Her hair was braided but he could tell it was very long, possibly longer than Shalene's, and it was the same shiny gold as Tommen and Jaime's. Her eyes were a deep, vivid green. The scar on her face did not, in the least, take away from her beauty. She was
dressed in white leather breeches and white boots, a thin golden tunic that complimented her eyes and tanned skin perfectly.

She walked directly to Sandor and curtsied to him and Shalene, " Prince Clegane, My Princess, I would like to accompany you to Meereen, if it wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. I was told that my brother and...Jaime are with you, in light of recent events and confessions, I think I deserve to hear the story from the source." She looked right at Jaime when she said
that. Sandor didn't blame her in the least, the damned Lannister owed it to the girl, he owed her more than a story.

Sandor and Shalene happily welcomed her. After her belongings were transferred to Sandor's vessel, the other ship departed.

Through all of this, Jaime could only stand and take in the sight of his only daughter. She was a mirror image of him, even more so than Tommen. He had so many things he regretted, regardless of the situation, his children were not of them. They deserved so much better than him. Gods, he was such a fool. So many lives he altered because of his selfishness, his
blindness. Never had he been more ashamed of what he and Cercei had done than he was now, he didn't expect it to hurt him as much as it did for Myrcella to ignore him. The aching in his chest was not new, it had been his constant companion for so long, he had begun to feel it was his punishment for all his years of deceit and arrogance. He didn't approach her or show his feelings, she had every right to how she felt.

Myrcella walked away with Tommen to the area that had been built on the vessel for the children. It was canopied and fenced off so that the children could play above deck in safety. Thick, soft pillows and couches were scattered about.

When there had been no sounds of fighting, Tyrion and the others had ventured out, curious as to what was going on. The nurses had brought the children out and Myrcella immediately went to them, sitting on a pillow and began touching and playing with them all. She looked so natural among the little ones, laughing as her hair was pulled, kissing little hands and feet as if she had known these babes all their lives.

Tyrion approached and watched her, it had been so long since he had seen her, she had grown into such a beauty. His decision to send her from King's Landing was the smartest one he had ever made. His heart skipped a beat when she looked up at him and smiled. "Uncle, I have missed you! Tell me that at least one of these babies are yours!"

Tyrion laughed and pulled Shae to his side," My sweet Myrcella. You are so beautiful! No, my little lion is still here," he patted Shae's swollen belly. " This is my Lady wife, Shae Lannister. Look around you, I'll do the introductions. You know Clegane, He is now Prince Sandor Clegane of Emerald Bay, as I'm sure you know. And his wife Princess Shalene Clegane of House Martell and Emerald Bay. This is his son, Lucian Clegane and his wife Jonete' Clegane, the sweet little Lady by your side is Lady Elezbeth, she is Clegane's ward, but I'm sure she will soon be his adopted daughter, the twins there are little Lord Dexcian Clegane and Lady K'Alenedor Clegane. Though I will add, they are your kin, their grandfather was Uncle Gerion. This is Lady Sansa as you are well aware, she is married to that dark chap at her side, Bronn Zeneek of Braavos. You know Ser Addam Marbrand, this is Lady Brienne of Tarth."

Myrcella stood and curtsied to all, Tyrion introduced her as," Lady Myrcella Baratheon." Myrcella looked at him sadly then at Jaime, " Uncle, you know very well that I am not a Baratheon. I am a bastard, whether it is Waters or Hill, I know not, but I am very clearly a bastard."

Jaime couldn't meet her eyes. He did this to his poor daughter. He would change it all if he could, but he wouldn't change them. It was he who was to blame, he always acted before he thought. He heard Tommen say," Sister, we are Lannisters. We may be bastards but I will not be named one, nor will you." He looked to Shalene for guidance, he knew that she, too, was a bastard child. Not in the same manner as he and Myrcella was, but she was still a princess.

Shalene said," Lady Myrcella. Let no one tell you who you are. We are not given the choice of who our parents are, but we can decide who we will be. My origins are not the same as yours, yet I too, am a bastard child. Only you can decide how this affects the rest of your life. I see no one here who cares for you any less because of this."

Myrcella looked at Shalene then at Tommen, her gaze shifted to Jaime and she asked," Did you ever love me? Did you ever want to be my Father? Did you ever once, think about what it would be like for us? It would be so much easier to just be a bastard, what am I now? What man would want me as a wife now, knowing what you and my mother have done? You and mother gave no thought to us, why should I care about you, Ser Jaime?"

Jaime had felt scorn and disgust from others so many times in his life, but never like this. He had no answers for her, he was having a difficult time breathing, he couldn't look at anyone, they all knew his history, finding his voice was almost beyond his abilities at this moment, "Myrcella, I'm sorry."

His daughter yelled," Just stop it! You're not sorry or neither one of you would have done this! Why couldn't you just be like normal people? She is as much to blame as you! I pray that you are happy with the what you done!" she turned away from Jaime, wiping tears from her face, "Lady Shae, could you please show me where I might rest? My Prince, thank you again, could I request a favor from you? May I have a guard at my door?"

Sandor nodded at her," Hecnok see to Lady Myrcella's guard." A part of Sandor felt for the young lady, he had known for many years but it was not his business. He definitely didn't blame her for being mad at Jaime and Cercei, he looked over at Jaime and just shook his head.

**
Daenarys was pleased with how well Drogon had started responding to her. She truly felt that they were as one when they were together. She had to smile when she watched Rhaegal and Tomaerys, they seemed to mirror each others moods and movements. Viserion was always so quiet, he would watch all the interactions, he never gave any indication towards misbehavior, he just seemed to be content to watch.

Okeo couldn't teach Dany how to reach into the minds of the dragons as she could but she did teach her how to feel them through her emotions. When she had touched Viserion's mind, Okeo had told her that Viserion had a need to be with another. He would leave her one day, but he would come back at times. Dany didn't want to know about this although she felt it also. Was this the third head of the dragon?

She thought so many times about what Quaithe had told her, "To go north, you must journey south, to reach the west you must go east. To go forward you must go back and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow."

She felt that she was so close to the answers to this message. She had come East, she would soon be going West, back home. Though she had no memory of her homeland, a deep part of her wanted to be there. She wanted peace, she wanted to be loved, she just wanted to stop all of the hurt and destruction of war.

She knew of the Shadow in the North. The long Dark was coming, somehow they would have to conquer The Shadow of this threat in order to bring forth the Light of the New Dawn.

This Aegon that was spoken of, was he a true Targaryen or was he the mummer's dragon? I must trust my dragons for that answer. She would have to win the South before she could travel North.

The past. Why was she so afraid of the past? She would just wait until the West came to her, she knew there were answers with them, 'My future lies in the answers from the past.'