A/N: I hope you lot all had an amazing Christmas! Here I am, just about managing to give you a new chapter before the new year! Hope you all enjoy it, and I hope you all have a fabulous time tonight and a great 2016.
Boramir: Thank you very much! Yes, in canon the Kingsguard were pretty hapless, but I like to think with a new and improved royal family that they would have got a decent bunch of them sorted out. And, yes, that is exactly why Steffon didn't tell Tywin - he absolutely wanted to prove himself. Despite that, I think he did handle it well, and Renly's popularity is now out of the window, I can't see him gaining much support after what has been revealed about him. Indeed, the trouble now is Highgarden, and the still-free Mace. I have intentions for him, but they will have to wait until the chapter after this one. Oh yes, you're damn right about Amy, I don't think Tywin would have any trouble destroying anyone who even thought about harming her. That in itself will be enough to keep her safe on her journey!
unnamed visitor: Thank you! Steffon and Sansa certainly did work well together to sort Renly out, and yes, the Tyrells really have revealed themselves to be real snakes in the grass. Indeed, Robb would hope for an easier time now that Renly has been dealt with, and while he is bound to be thoroughly unimpressed with Renly he may well have more pressing things on his mind when he gets back to the Capitol. Amy will indeed be back at the Rock very soon, and there will be a Jon POV scene in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Guest: You're very welcome!
Right-ho folks, on we go - hope you enjoy!
:)
Arrivals
Robb looked up at Storm's End, the thick, towering walls and the firmly closed gate, and sighed heavily. He was not in the mood for this, he had no desire to set up a siege here and wait for months or longer for them to run out of food and raise the banners of surrender. A growl of impatience left him and he ran his hand irritably through his hair before turning and stamping towards the largest of the tents. They would use this for council, and he imagined there would be some people inside he could discuss the best course of action with. As it turned out there was only one man inside, and Robb smiled grimly at him. He was Stannis' man, Ser Davos, the former smuggler who had saved the Lord of Dragonstone from starvation during the rebellion.
"Stannis is on his way, four days most like," Davos informed him at once, and Robb nodded. "Good," he breathed a little sigh of relief. Once Stannis arrived, he could take his Northmen and ride back to the Capitol. Amy would have long since left for the Rock, and she had promised him in her final letter from the Capitol that she and Aedan would be under heavy guard. "Missing home?" Davos asked him sympathetically. "I have grown used to missing home," Robb answered, "missing my wife and son is a different matter entirely."
"How old is he, your son?" Davos asked him next. "A little over six moons," Robb replied, seeing the older man smile slightly wistfully. "Been a long time since any of mine were that small. Almost all men grown now, a few round your own age. They have yet to bless me with grandchildren though," Davos told him in an amused tone. Robb was surprisingly glad of his inconsequential small talk, it was almost enough to take his mind away from the image of them travelling alone without him. Almost. "It's only four more days, then you can ride back to the Capitol, you'll have them back in your arms within three weeks," Davos tried to cheer him, and Robb smiled wryly.
"They will not be at the Capitol when I get back, they will be at the Rock. It will be well over a moon before I'm with them again," he said moodily, and the older man sighed. "Should we send a raven to the keep?" Robb asked, abruptly changing the subject. "Aye, can't do any harm," Davos replied, "you will have to write it though, I'm unable." Robb raised his brows slightly at that, but made no comment. "I will ask the castellan to come and treat peacefully," Robb said, "might be that they don't yet know about Renly's imprisonment."
"Aye," Davos agreed again, "though more than likely they do, and are afraid of their own fates should they leave the walls of the keep." Robb hummed his agreement as he smoothed a piece of parchment over the table. "Then someone ought to inform them that their fates will be far worse should they not come out," he said, "the King only wants them to surrender Storm's End and swear fealty. They do not even have to travel to the Capitol, he is happy for their oaths to be sworn to myself or Stannis."
"A wise decision," Davos nodded, "and a fair one, let us hope the castellan has a brain in his head, and is not still blindly loyal to Renly." Robb sighed at that. Davos was right, likely Renly had left someone in charge here who would never betray him, no matter how bleak the situation became. "Well if he is, we can only hope that those around him are not quite so foolish. It is not hard to overpower one man, especially if he is putting the lives of thousands at risk," Robb returned, and Davos nodded his agreement. "Aye," he mused, "anything could be happening behind those walls."
"Well, let us hope they are coming to the right decisions," Robb said, scratching out his message to the castellan of the keep. He kept it brief and to the point. It was simple really, he wanted the gates of Storm's End opened, and he wanted those inside to swear an oath of fealty to Steffon. In return they could continue as they were, though with a new lord governing them. And a new lady too, soon enough, if Amy's letter were to be believed. Robb glanced towards Davos and wondered if he knew anything about the proposed new marriage for his lord. "I was sorry to hear about Stannis' wife," Robb said tentatively, "such a terrible loss."
"Aye," Davos said heavily, "it was no love match, but there was a fondness between them, and of course they shared Shireen." Robb nodded his agreement, biting down on his lip and deciding that it would probably best not to mention anything about Margaery Tyrell. "I wonder what the King will do about Highgarden," Davos pondered, and Robb set down his quill, coming to the end of his message. "Given the intended treason he would be well within his rights to remove them from power, though I imagine he would be more inclined to pass the lordship to Willas Tyrell. He is not from the same mould as his father, or so I hear," Robb said.
"Aye," Davos agreed, "though I imagine that Mace Tyrell will lose his head either way. I only hope the King can move swiftly to detain him, before he can gather his armies. The might of Highgarden could threaten the Capitol, especially with us engaged here and your father engaged at the Wall. Has there been any more word recently?"
"Last I heard they were trying to broker a deal with the wildlings. Apparently they were only launching an assault on the Wall so they could be shielded from the walkers. I think my father is inclined to allow them to settle on the Gift, but the Watch may not be happy with that, and of course, he would need permission from the King," Robb answered him.
"He ought to listen carefully to Lord Stark, the man knows his own lands better than the King. If this threat of walkers is true, then all folk should be protected behind the Wall, wildling or not. Likely the queen will persuade in your father's favour," Davos said, inclining his head towards Robb as he sealed the letter intended for Storm's End. "Aye, I hope so," Robb smiled slightly, "but there is naught we can do about it from here. I will go and send this, and then I suppose there is nothing we can do but wait."
"Steffon?!" Cersei hurried down the hallway in search of her son. She was about to call his name again when she rounded the corner to see him heading towards her. "There you are," she said in relief. "What is it? Is it over?" Steffon asked her fearfully, his eyes shining expectantly. "It's over," she confirmed, unable to keep the wide smile from her face. "Mother, I…what…what is it?" he asked her in a slightly dazed manner, and she gripped her hands around his. "A boy, a strong and healthy prince," she told him, and he laughed out in relief, before he pulled her into a tight embrace. "I can't believe it…I can't…" he trailed off, squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe.
"I am I allowed to come?" he asked, pushing her back gently after a moment. "Can I see him?" he asked longingly, and Cersei nodded her head in response, her emotions too piqued to utter another word. He began to stride down the hallway at her gesture, and she had to half run to keep up with him as he approached the queen's chambers. At the door he paused, snapping his head towards her with a new fear in his eyes. "Sansa?" he almost choked her name. "Sansa is fine," Cersei soothed him at once, "merely eager to introduce her son to his father." Steffon visibly breathed a sigh of relief at that, and she saw his hands clench into light fists a few times before he pushed open the door.
She followed quietly after him, seeing the Kingsguard in the living area bow their heads to him as he passed through. Cersei thought it likely that Steffon hadn't even noticed them, seeing how his pace quickened as a tiny cry could be heard from the bedchamber. He passed through the door, and again she followed him. Part of her did not want to intrude on this moment, but the other part of her was desperate to see it, and so she stood near the door. Close enough to see, but far enough away to give the new little family some privacy. Sansa looked up from soothing the baby in her arms as Steffon approached the side of the bed.
"And what do you have for me?" Steffon asked her in an amused tone as he lowered himself to sit on the side of the bed. "From the look on your face I think you know well enough," Sansa replied in a similar tone, and Cersei couldn't help but smile at the affectionate way Steffon cupped her cheek for a moment before turning his attention to the bundle in his wife's arms. "Gods, he is a wonder," he breathed, just about loudly enough for Cersei to hear him. Pride swelled her heart, and tears stung at her eyes before she could stop them. "A true Baratheon," Sansa said, and Cersei knew she was referring to his colouring. He was indeed a Baratheon, black hair and twinkling blue eyes, he had reminded Cersei so much of Steffon when he had been born that it had almost overwhelmed her. She had half expected Robert to poke his head around the door with that sheepish expression on his face.
"Blessed with his mother's temperament, I hope," Steffon said with a grin, and Sansa laughed slightly. "Could I hold him?" Steffon asked her after a long moment of just gazing down into the blankets. "Of course you can, there is no need to ask, he's your son," Sansa smiled widely, shifting the baby into Steffon's waiting arms. "You have done this before," Sansa said knowingly, and Steffon nodded. "I remember better with Eleanor," he said, "the one thing mother would say over and over, don't squeeze to hard, and support her head, isn't that right mother?" he turned his head and grinned at her, and she nodded her agreement. "I am glad to hear that not everything I said to you went in one ear and out of the other," she said wryly, and his smile widened before he turned his attention back to Sansa. "Thank you so much for him," he told her sincerely, "I cannot imagine what you had to go through to bring him into this world."
"He's worth it," Sansa replied, "but all the same, I would prefer not to have to do it again for a while yet." Steffon chuckled at that, leaning forwards carefully and pressing his lips to hers. "I love you," he told her quietly. "As I love you," Sansa murmured back. Cersei's eyes filled with tears, and she decided that she had lingered too long. Quietly she opened the door again and made to slip out, Sansa's voice stopped her in her tracks though. "Wait!" she called softly. "I just wanted to thank you again, for being here with me through it all. I could not have done it without you."
"I do not think winter ever comes here," Jon said incredulously, wiping his sweaty brow as he stood on the deck of the ship with Ser Barristan. "Not like you get it in the North, that much I'm sure is true," Ser Barristan replied, and Jon chuckled. He could not quite believe his eyes as they approached the harbour at Sunspear. The skies were the deepest blue he had ever seen, and not a wisp of cloud was visible, no matter how hard his eyes searched the never ending block of blue. When he managed to tear his eyes from the heavens he found them drawn to the sea. Where it had been a choppy blue-grey when they had left the Capitol, it was now crystal clear blue-green. It was beautiful and almost perfectly still, only a few ripples being pushed up against the harbour walls.
"Have you ever been here before?" Jon asked the knight at his side. "To Dorne, yes, but never Sunspear. This is quite the adventure for me too," he answered, and Jon smiled slightly as they passed between the harbour walls. If he squinted he could just about make out the banners that were waiting on the docks. That had to be their escort. He imagined that they would not meet the Princes and Princesses of Dorne until they were taken up to the main residence. Slowly they approached the dock, and Jon made sure to keep out of the way as the men moved about tossing ropes and instructions to one another. Jon watching as half a dozen of them leapt from the ship to the dock, hauling ropes with them and making sure the ship was moored strongly in place.
"I'd best go and escort the princess from below deck," Ser Barristan said, and Jon nodded his head in agreement. The old knight made his way below then, and Jon turned back to the shore, watching the people walking up and down the docks. Some appeared to be dock workers or fishermen, others were women pushing carts to see the morning's catch. There were stalls further back with brightly coloured awnings, and Jon's eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the colours and the exotic feel of the place that was so very different to everything he had grown up around. The North was so colourless and bleak in contrast, and the Wall was something else entirely. By the Gods, this was like a different world, even from that of the Capitol.
He tore his eyes away from the sights at the sound of footsteps on the deck, and he turned to see Princess Karenza being led towards the gangway by Ser Barristan, her other guards following behind. Jon tagged along to the back of them, following them down off the ship and back onto solid ground once more. They walked slowly towards the waiting Dornish banners, and Jon noted as they came closer that there was rather a large party there to greet them. Jon counted four expensively dressed young women and girls, and an older woman he could only assume to be their mother. There was a man with them, and four guards stood behind them. Ser Barristan brought them to a halt a few feet away, before he bowed lowly. "Prince Oberyn," he greeted the Dornishman, to which Jon's brows raised slightly. "We were not expecting you to greet us off the ship personally."
"I wanted to ensure my nephew's future bride was safely escorted to the palace," he replied, and Jon noted his rich accent, and roving eyes. "May I introduce my paramour, Ellaria, and our four daughters," Prince Oberyn gestured to the women, all of whom inclined their heads. "A pleasure," Ser Barristan returned the gesture; "and in turn my I introduce the Princess Karenza, and her guard." The princess stepped forward as Ser Barristan gestured behind him, and Jon admired her poise as she moved closer to her welcoming party. "A pleasure," Prince Oberyn seemed to scrutinize her for a long moment before he held out his hand. She placed hers in his and he pressed a brief kiss to the back of it. "If it please you, you can ride in the litter with Ellaria, and the girls," Prince Oberyn offered, and the princess inclined her head. "Thank you, Prince Oberyn, that would be most agreeable," she said.
"Good," he clapped his hands together before suggesting they make the journey up to the palace. Jon noticed that there were horses saddled for the princess' guard and so he made his way to where they were standing. As he passed the Prince he moved himself to block Jon's path, and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet his eyes. "You look like a man I once knew," the Prince said, his eyes roaming over Jon's features. "Ned Stark." Jon couldn't be sure what the Prince's feelings on the matter were, and so he decided just to be honest. "He's my uncle," Jon told him, and Oberyn's brows raised a little. "Indeed," he looked Jon up and down, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Brandon, I assume?" he raised a brow, and Jon nodded his agreement. "Your name?" the Prince asked.
"Jon," he replied, and again the Prince nodded, before a hint of a smile graced his lips. "You can ride with me back to the palace, we can talk more without holding everyone up," Prince Oberyn said, and Jon could do nothing but agree. He moved to mount a horse, and the Prince was trotting around to his side in the next moment. "We ride by the litter," the Prince said, and Jon nodded his understanding. "Who was your mother?" he asked as their party set off on their journey. "Ashara Dayne," Jon answered him, seeing his brows raise again. "A beauty," he said, "of course there were rumours of her and Brandon Stark, though I was of the belief that her child was stillborn."
"Apparently not," Jon said, slightly edgily. "Forgive me," the Prince said, "I did not mean to speak out of turn. I am a curious man, Jon, it was not my intention to offend you." Jon sighed at that, forcing a smile to his face. "I know you meant no offence, it is just a raw subject. The truth of my parentage has not long been known to me," he decided to be honest about it, hoping the Prince would drop it and ask him something else. "You were raised a bastard?" Prince Oberyn asked next, and Jon nodded his head slightly bitterly. "Here in Dorne that is not something to be ashamed of. I have eight bastard daughters. Eight sand snakes, and they are just as welcome and loved as Doran's true born children. I have never had to hide them from court as men do in the other kingdoms of Westeros," he said.
"I was never hidden away, just…" Jon tailed off, not quite sure how to explain it. "Just never quite as central to the attention as the others?" the Prince suggested, and Jon nodded slightly. "I suppose," he muttered, a little needle of resentment niggling under his skin. He had forgiven Lord Stark for his deception, and he had gladly welcomed Lady Stark's apologies and new found fondness for him. It didn't mean he didn't mourn all those years of it he could have had though. If they had known the truth all along then perhaps he could have been just as loved by her as Robb and the others had been. It did no good to dwell on it though, he could not change what had gone before, only carve out a better future for himself.
"I hope you enjoy Dorne, Jon," the Prince said to him, his eyes lingering with open curiosity for a moment before he pulled the reins of his horse so he could drop into step with Ser Barristan's mount. Jon stayed where he was, at the side of the litter. He glanced towards it, only to find a pair of dark eyes meeting his own. They blinked, and the owner looked down at her lap, the slightest hint of a smile on her full lips. Jon tried not to stare, turning his head away from the litter and staring straight ahead again. The eyes had belonged to one of Prince Oberyn's daughters, and though he knew he should probably forget all about her, he resolved in his mind that he would at least try and discover her name.
Amy did her best to ignore her churning stomach as the carriage finally came to a halt. As last. She let out a long breath and tried to compose herself, tightening her grip slightly on Aedan as he wriggled incessantly in her lap. Her head was pounding and she was exhausted. She was longing to finally get out of the confines of this carriage and actually breathe in the fresh air again. The door opened to reveal Theon, and she knew she must look terrible because he didn't make any sly remark or grin indecently at her. "Are you alright?" he asked her, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. "I will be once I get out of this prison. Take him, please," she held Aedan out to him, "I can get myself down."
Theon obliged her, shifting her son onto his hip as she moved to make her own way down. It appeared that she did require his assistance after all, as she almost unbalanced. Thankfully his free hand found her own, steadying her until her feet were planted firmly on the slabs of the courtyard. "You don't look well at all," he commented, and she glared at him. "Thank you very much," she said irritably, "you certainly know how to compliment a lady." Surprisingly he made no retort, and neither did he make to hand Aedan back to her as he usually did whenever she asked him to hold him for a moment. Theon seemed terrified of babies, and would always give them back at the first opportunity. Amy imagined he must really be worried about her if he was willing to keep hold of him a while longer.
"Come on," Amy muttered, making her way across the courtyard and seeing that only her father and her uncle had come out to greet them. "Is mother alright?" she asked at once as her father gathered her in an embrace and kissed both her cheeks. "Merely tired, she is keeping Geanna company in the nursery, I thought you could go right up," her father smiled, though it faltered as he stepped back to take a proper look at her. "Though I think you may be best seeing the Maester first, you're dreadfully pale sweetheart, are you quite well?" he sounded concerned, and she waved him away at once. "Of course I'm fine, I want to see mother and Geanna, and the little one," she added, smiling towards Tyrion who grinned in response. "I'm just tired, that's all," she soothed her father.
"And sick, and faint," Theon added from behind her, and she turned and glared at him. "Amy?" her father's tone was almost warning now and she sighed heavily. "I'm fine," she insisted, "you know what Aedan's like, I just need a good night's sleep, that's all." He did not look impressed, folding his arms and looking at her disapprovingly. "Maester," he said simply, "and I am not taking no for an answer, I will take you there myself. Don't argue," he warned her, "Tyrion is more than capable of showing Theon and Aedan to the nursery, you can join them there when I'm satisfied you really are alright."
"You will worry mother," Amy said at once, and he frowned at her. "I'm sure Tyrion is more than capable of making an excuse for you," he said, and Amy sighed in defeat. "Very well," she said heavily, and her father tugged on her arm at once, practically marching her up the steps of the keep. She knew better than to protest, but she did keep a scowl on her face all the way to the Maester's quarters. Her father knocked sharply on the door, practically thrusting her inside ahead of him when the Maester called for them to come in. "I wasn't expecting you Ser, does Lady Lanette have need of me?" the Maester asked expectantly. "No," her father answered, "Amy doesn't feel well, I'd like you to make sure it isn't anything serious."
"Symptoms?" the Maester got straight to the point, and Amy rolled her eyes at her father. "I feel sick, my head hurts, and I suppose I am a little shaky on my feet," Amy told him grudgingly, hearing her father huff at her side. "I see," the Maester observed her, "and when did you last bleed?" The question had Amy blinking stupidly. How could she be so blind? Foolish? Did she remember nothing from being pregnant with Aedan? The same foods even turned her stomach. The memory of Robb pinning her against the wall, of her telling him not to stop, him finishing inside her. It all flashed through her mind in a matter of seconds, tears welling in her eyes at once. "Oh, Gods," she whispered, feeling her father's hand come to rub soothingly up and down her back. "Perhaps you would like to go behind the screen?" the Maester said gently, and she nodded mutely, obediently walking behind the screen.
She loosened her dress in some kind of daze, hanging it over the screen before laying down on the cot and pulling the blanket up to her hips before hitching her shift up to expose her stomach. Her hands moved unconsciously to it. Was it her imagination or was it already beginning to thicken? How could she not notice? She called out to the Maester, thankful that her voice didn't shake. He appeared in the next moment with that instrument the Maester at the Capitol and Maester Luwin had used to listen to Aedan's heartbeat when she had been expecting him. She swallowed down her emotion, wishing that Robb were here and not hundreds of leagues away from her. They had decided against more children for the time being, but now that it was more than likely happening, Amy could not bring herself to regret it.
The Maester bent his ear over her stomach at her consent, the cool metal of his listening instrument pressed against her bare skin. He shifted it around for several minutes, and with each passing one she grew more and more anxious. "Is something wrong?" she finally asked him, and he straightened up, shaking his head. "No my lady, I just had to be certain," he told her, smiling slightly. "And are you?" she asked, sitting up and tugging down her shift. "Am I with child?" she asked him almost hungrily, and he nodded his head. She almost laughed in response, clapping her hand to her mouth to stifle it. She had been so certain that she didn't want another baby yet, and yet now it was happening she could not be happier. Gods she wanted Robb here. She wanted him here so badly so she could tell him. A letter wasn't the right way, she needed to see his face.
"My lady," the Maester drew her attention, "you really ought to be aware that I could hear two distinct heartbeats. Strong heartbeats," he told her, and she blinked stupidly. "Two?" she repeated in a dazed manner, her head spinning. "Yes my lady," he confirmed, "it seems you are carrying a set of twins."
A/N: I know some of you suspected that Amy might be pregnant, but I'm hoping you didn't see that coming!
More soon!