Hey all, thanks for the interest in the story so far. I'll try to answer a few of your questions here.
J pointed out the somewhat precarious legal situation Jon finds himself in as far as inheritance goes. Let's just say it's stable for now, Rhaegar is the king after all, but should something happen to him Jon's status could depend very greatly on whoever takes power.
Xemi I don't know that I'm trying to portray Ned as a good guy so much having Ned think he did the right thing. Given the state of things at court it's understandable a lot of people would want Jon dead, something very much not the case at Winterfell.
immortalwizardpirateelf-fan wanted to know why Rhaegar married Cersei, and that's information concerning that and the "reinforcement" of King's Landing by Lannister forces was something I was going to dole out very slowly. Truth is, not too many people know the whole story.
Both flayjunior15 and mcveighreece have asked if this is a JonxDany story, and honestly it isn't...at least not yet. For the moment I don't have plans to do so, and I wasn't intending to focus too much on the pairings except insofar as they intersect with the politics and intrigue. Though I will say this, Jon has just been told he's going to have an arranged marriage to a beautiful girl from a wealthy and powerful house, which is a way better match than he expected. Given that he's also a teenager I think we know where his initial interests will lie.
Theoldones53 wanted to know if Cersei's kids are Rhaegar's, and they are. She was infatuated with him as a child and he wouldn't have cheated on her or called out another woman's name like Lyanna did, so their marriage would have been stable at first. Also, Tywin is in King's Landing and Jaime hasn't been for quite some time, so it's not as though she would have had much opportunity. I haven't described their features much, but they look Targaryen.
The Prince of Winterhall (Part II)
Jon and Jorah ran out of the main hall, past the workers and stonemasons who stopped to look at the source of the commotion. They ran out through Moat Cailin's southern gate, just big enough for a man to pass through. Jon instinctively turned and headed in the direction of the Neck, Jorah in tow. Finally he saw what he had feared. Ghost was snarling at a cowering Daeron, who stood beside Ser Barristan. The knight himself had a sword out, cautiously pointing it toward the dire wolf. Baelor and Visenya were standing off to the side, with little Baelor noticeably crying. Jon felt anger and confusion rush over him as he looked at the scene, as though he could not understand why there was danger. He stared intently at Ghost. The wolf stared back at him and a feeling of relief seemed to wash over them both. Jorah turned to Barristan, hand on the hilt of Longclaw, drawing it just enough that the steel could be seen glinting in the midday sun.
"Step away from the wolf, Ser, he poses no threat to the boy." Ghost had already padded over silently to where Jon stood and sat down beside him. Ser Barristan had seemed conflicted before, but now that Ghost sat beside another prince he looked genuinely confused as to what to do.
"Kill the beast, Ser Barristan! I command it!" Daeron barked. "You're a better swordsman than this savage, you're a Knight of the Kingsguard!"
"You've done your duty, Ser. The prince is safe," Jorah reminded the old knight. "Besides, isn't Prince Jon's wolf under royal protection?" Ser Barristan nodded sagely at that and sheathed his blade.
"But he bit me!" whined Daeron.
"Only because you hit us for playing with him!" Visenya shouted back. Daeron gave her an angry glare and stormed off.
"Father will hear about this!" he shouted before turning to Jon. "As will my mother, the Queen." Ghost snarled again and Jon was ready to fall upon Daeron, but Jorah placed a hand upon his shoulder and both the boy and the wolf calmed down. Visenya took Baelor by the hand and walked over to Jon.
"It really was all Daeron's fault," she whispered to Jon before looking at Ghost. "He's really a good doggie. He was nice to me and Baelor." Jon nodded and smiled warmly at his half-sister. Ghost returned an affectionate gaze.
"Thank you, Your Grace" he said.
"You don't have to call me that, Jae! You're a prince!" Jon suppressed the urge to chuckle. If only it were that simple. He bowed politely and took his leave of Ser Barristan and the children, returning with Jorah to his own party. He barely had time to tell them what had happened before a page approached them in the livery of House Targaryen.
"I'm here to inform His Grace that he is to attend a meeting held by the King and Queen to ascertain the truth of an accusation," he stated flatly. Jon groaned, before rising to his feet. He cast a weary glance towards his fellowship.
"Time to answer for my crimes," he said sarcastically. Eddard Karstark snorted at this.
"If I may speak freely, Your Grace, I think we should all come with you," Domeric suggested. "Prince Daeron and his Lannister family should be reminded that they are still in the North." Jon nodded in agreement before turning to Jory Cassel.
"Ser Jory, as our host, would you care to join us as well?" The castellan of Moat Cailin smiled at that.
"With pleasure, Jon." The entire entourage left the main hall and made their way to the large pavilion that had been erected so that the Rhaegar could hold a kind of court even while on the road. The Targaryen guard who stood in front of the entrance flaps was hesitant to allow so many Northmen entrance, but after exchanging a reassuring glance with Jorah, Jon stared intently at the man, reminding him of his status.
"You should stand aside, Ser," he said. "I think the King wants this matter resolved quickly. I don't think he would be pleased if he found out you were delaying my arrival." The guard begrudgingly stepped out of the way of Jon and his party and they all spilled into the pavilion. Rhaegar and his wife sat on a raised dais, surrounded by various onlookers and hangers on who parted to allow Jon to approach the King. The crowd murmured at the sight of Ghost, who moved silently alongside his master, red eyes fixed on Rhaegar. Daeron stood beside his mother, pretending to wince while a maester fawned over his wound. A short, unassuming man in the simple clothing of the crannogmen stood at the ready with what appeared to be a poultice of some kind, shaking his head wearily at the sight. No doubt he has a better remedy, thought Jon. He looked the King, who regarded him with a passive, unreadable expression. Rhaegar had always seemed fond of Ghost, or at least intrigued enough to keep something from happening to him, but in that moment, surrounded by courtiers and sitting beside his wife, who had placed a hand on his and looked every bit a queen, Jon wasn't sure whose side he would be on. He drew strength from Ghost, who seemed unfazed by the situation. Jon was just glad one of them wasn't nervous.
"You see, my love? The Northmen know only force. You ask them to speak to the truth of a simple matter and they come armed and ready for war," Cersei said disdainfully.
"My friends just happened to carry weapons, as do many travelers on the road, Your Grace," Jon replied, summoning courage he didn't realize he had. He thought for a moment before continuing. "Is that the right title, Your Grace? I'm just a lad from the North with no knowledge of courtly matters. Tell me, what does Prince Aegon call you?" Murmurs and at least one gasp could be heard throughout the crowd. Cersei, to her credit, kept her composure.
"'Your Grace' or 'My Queen' will do," she said. Looking to Daeron, she smiled sweetly before continuing.
"Go on, my prince, tell us what happened." Daeron stood up, feigning another wince as the crannogman rolled his eyes. He told those assembled about how he had simply been walking alongside the castle walls when he saw a savage beast attacking his siblings. He had rushed to their defense, but the monster had still bitten him. Ser Barristan was able to keep the creature at bay until Jon (Daeron noticeably refused to call him anything that would suggest a connection to House Targaryen) had come and as if by some dark magic called the wolf to heel. Jon gritted his teeth at this. He didn't know what was more infuriating, that Daeron was lying or that he might get away with it.
"As I told you, my love. A savage beast has no place in the royal party," Cersei pronounced, staring superciliously at Jon. "The beast must be put out of its misery before it can do your children any more harm." More than the Queen's he felt Ghost's eyes on him. There was an expectation there, a demand that he defend the wolf in a situation beyond its understanding. It was oddly empowering.
"Savage beasts?" he asked. "I may not know as much family history as my younger brother, but did our family not once tame dragons?" Rhaegar's interest seemed piqued by this.
"Ser Barristan, can you confirm Prince Daeron's tale?" asked the King. The old knight shook his head.
"I only arrived in time to see the Prince call for aid, Your Grace. Besides, I do not believe it my place to become involved in this dispute." This response seemed to displease Rhaegar greatly, so he turned to Jon.
"Tell it true, Jaehaerys. When you arrived on the scene, how was the wolf behaving? Could you tell how it felt?" The Queen looked confused by this next question, as did Daeron.
"He was confused and angry, Your Grace," Jon told him. "He didn't understand why Ser Barristan was threatening him." Rhaegar seemed to allow himself a small smile.
"My love, you cannot take a child's opinion on his pet over the account of your own son!" As the King pursed his lips in frustration Jon realized the Queen had misplayed her hand. I'm his son too.
"You needn't do so, Your Grace," Jon interjected. "You could ask your daughter what happened. She tells it differently than Prince Daeron." Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at this and looked to Ser Barristan, who nodded before he could be asked the question. Rhaegar then faced the Queen with an exasperated look upon his face.
"Yes, where is my daughter, my love? I find it curious she is not here despite her involvement in this episode." Cersei bit her lip while she thought of a response. It didn't take long.
"Visenya is but a child. She was so traumatized by the experience I thought it best to spare her the horror of reliving it." The King looked at her incredulously.
"That sounds not at all like my little warrior. Send for her." A page quickly ducked out of the pavilion and returned in short order with the princess in tow. The little girl looked at Daeron defiantly and flashed a kind smile at Jon. When put to the question by the King she relayed the truth of the mater, much to her brother's and mother's frustration.
"Please don't hurt him, father. He was just defending us from Daeron," she pleaded. "Ghost is good! I swear!" Rhaegar almost seemed to laugh.
"A brave girl," he said. "It seems I named you well."
"But the wolf savaged your son, My King! Surely it must be dealt with!" Cersei seemed determined to salvage something from the situation.
"Maester, how serious is the wound?" At this point it was clear that the King was tiring of the situation.
"Not serious at all, Your Grace," replied the maester. The crannogman nodded, finally agreeing with the royal healer on something.
"Then it seems no harm was done," said Rhaegar with an air of finality. "Jaehaerys." Jon almost jumped at the King's command.
"You are forbidden from allowing the wolf near Baelor and Visenya." The King paused for a moment to look Ghost in the eyes. The wolf also seemed to shrink from his gaze. "You will chain it or cage it when necessary and when I order it. Is that understood?" Jon nodded in disappointment.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"And as for you, Daeron, you are forbidden from being near the wolf. I had promised that the creature would be under royal protection. If you cannot prevent yourself from provoking its wrath then you cannot be trusted to be in its presence. We will speak later about your punishment for striking your siblings." The King rose and strode out, waving for the rest of the onlookers to disperse. The Queen and Daeron both shot Jon a murderous glare before departing. Visenya curtsied in his direction and blew a kiss goodbye to Ghost. As everyone but his own fellowship wandered out, he saw the crannogman had remained. Jon walked over to him.
"I take it my half-brother didn't want your services?" he asked the shorter man, finally taking the time to appraise him. The crannogman was dressed in green clothing that fully covered his arms and legs. He was thin of frame and of face, with mud brown hair and a wispy beard that was nonetheless cropped close. His hair also had flecks of grey, which led Jon to suspect he was around the same age as Lord Eddard. The crannogman looked at Jon with warm, deep green eyes and smiled upon seeing him.
"It is good to see you, Your Grace," the man said. "You may call me Jonnel Fenn. As to your question, I'm afraid the young Prince doesn't realize the dangers of the Neck. The cut is small, but it needs to be cleaned better lest it begin to fester."
"I've heard of House Fenn," Jon answered. "You're sworn to the Reeds, are you not?"
"Indeed we are, Your Grace, for it was Lord Reed who sent me to you. He believes you shall need the company of a crannogman during your time in the South."
"To do what? Catch him frogs to eat?" laughed the Smalljon.
"I think you will find my people can be far more useful than that," replied Jonnel quietly. He seemed to project an air of knowledge and confidence that Jon found reassuring.
"Lord Reed has done much for my family," Jon said melancholically as he recalled what he had been told of the Tower of Joy. "It would be dishonorable to refuse his offer." This seemed to make the crannogman smile.
"Lord Fenn, perhaps the first thing you should do while in our company is treat Prince Daeron's wounds," mused Domeric Bolton.
"Should I say you have sent me, Your Grace?" the crannogman asked.
"I do not think that would be wise," Domeric went on softly. "Best to say you come simply out of a desire to serve the prince, and warn him of the dangers of festering wounds in the Neck. This may make him talkative, and it would be a good thing to know what he has on his mind." Jon caught the heir to the Dreadfort's meaning and nodded at the Fenn, who took his poultice and prepared to leave. Before he did, he turned to Jon once more.
"You will not regret taking me into your service, Your Grace," he said, green eyes gleaming. "There is much you will need to know, and much I can show you."