Dragonstone 299 AC.
Arya.
When she saw the ships below them she worried about the people on the island and knowing her mother was down there somewhere, her too. There were so many of them and while they didn't have a dragon to easily take a keep, they could to her mind still do so. Their army wasn't there to force them back and she knew not how many people her brother had left to protect the island or truly how many the ships carried.
She soon found out she had no need to worry, Jon would never allow them to take the island and harm those he cared about. His aged granduncle and the woman from Essos who'd named herself as his great aunt were too important to him, as were the people who lived on the island itself. While he had his issues with her mother, he'd never wish to see her harmed and so scared and worried though she was, she didn't panic. Instead, she held onto her brother tightly and heard him say the words and Ōñosmaghare did the rest.
Watching the ships burn and knowing that those who sailed them burned too shouldn't have made her as happy as it did. It wasn't the loss of life or even that these people were Lannisters that did so though. Simply knowing that Jon's aunt and uncle along with her mother were safe from harm was worth all that had happened here. Had these people not come seeking to harm them then her brother would never have needed to let the dragon loose on them. They woke the dragon, not Jon, and so they'd paid the price for it. When they flew over them for the last time and she saw just how much damage the dragon had done, she welcomed it. Jon had told her that they were safe, that their family would be safe and seeing again just what Ōñosmaghare could do, she believed it even more truly than the first time he'd told her so.
She felt her nervousness increase when they landed. The knowledge that they were but a few steps away from seeing her mother once more causing her to be a little reluctant to climb down off the dragon's back. It had been more than a year since she last saw her and she had changed greatly in that time. Changes that she feared would make her mother dislike her more than she always had. Arya knew that her mother loved her, but over time she had become to think that she never really liked her or who she so wished to be. That unlike with Sansa, with her it was only the fact that she was her daughter that made her mother love her and not that she was Arya. Something that she knew had made her Jon's favorite sibling.
"Arya." her brother said and she nodded before climbing down slowly from Ōñosmaghare's back "What worries you, little sister?"
"Nothing, I'm not worried, you're worried." she said and heard his chuckle as she looked to the ground.
"Aye, I am. You've naught to worry about, Arya. Your mother is going to be so pleased to see you safe and well, to see how much you've grown."
"She is?" she asked doubtfully.
"She is." her brother replied firmly.
"What of you?" she asked and saw him shake his head.
"It matters not what she thinks of me, little sister. Now come, it's been far too long since you saw each other, let's not delay it any more than we must."
She looked at him and could see that despite his words there was a nervousness in her brother's eyes too and though it should have added to her own, it actually did not. It had the opposite effect if anything, making her feel more resolute as the idea of Jon being nervous made her feel as if she wasn't a little girl about to meet her mother again after so long, but simply a daughter about to be reunited with more of her family. It made her walk with far steadier steps as they entered the keep and as guards came rushing to greet them. All the way to the Great Hall her steps were confident and true and it was only upon reaching it that she hesitated. Jon then kneeling down to look her in the eye and speak to her before they moved once more.
"You are Arya Stark of Winterfell, The She-Wolf, the Lady Warrior, the Sword of the North and you are my sister. " Jon said before hugging her tightly and whispering in her ear "Who I love with all my heart."
"I love you too, brother." she said before he let her go.
They walked into the Great Hall and she heard Jon's granduncle speak, she then saw his great aunt out of the corner of her eye. Yet her attention was focussed on the man wearing black with greying auburn hair and blue eyes and the woman who stood by his side as she took the view of her in completely. Her mother looked no different from how she had when last she saw her. She didn't seem to have aged at all, her eyes were still as blue as she remembered, her hair still a shade of red she'd only ever seen on her mother's or Sansa's head. She knew there was protocol and propriety to follow, and she wondered if that was why neither of them had said anything yet. Or was it simply that both had feared they'd not see each other again.
"Go to her." Jon said softly and she needed no other invitation as she then ran to where her mother stood and felt her arms wrap around her for the first time in far too long.
"By the seven, Arya, gods, Arya my sweet little girl. How I've longed to see you, to hold you in my arms once more." her mother said happily even though tears fell from her eyes as she spoke.
"I missed you mother I missed you so much." she replied allowing her own tears to fall for once.
"My sweet little girl, my sweet little Arya." her mother said over and over and her words, the feeling of her arms as they held her tightly, the smell of her, all of it was more than she had ever hoped it would be. The warrior she so wished to be was forgotten, as the girl her mother had thought her was the only one she could be for now at least.
Around them, people spoke and she ignored them, her mother's words and questions too as she just concentrated on the fact that she was here, that they were together and she wished the moment could go on for as long as it possibly could, only for it to end far too quickly. She felt her mother stiffen and she knew her brother was now standing in front of them even before she heard his voice. It annoyed her and she was about to say something to her mother about it, but Jon stopped her words before they came.
"Lady Catelyn." Jon said stiffly.
"Your grace." her mother replied.
"There is much we must speak on, but now is not the time. I'm sure you'd rather spend more time with Arya than on anything we need to discuss. The fleet which attempted to attack us has been dealt with and there is no danger to yourself or my sister any longer. Feel free to spend your time as you wish and we shall speak on the morrow." Jon said, though he wasn't Jon anymore, he was Rhaegar once again, the king and not her brother and she understood why that was.
With her, with Sansa, and with Dany he was himself, as he was with his granduncle, great aunt, and with Ser Arthur. There were two sides to him, the king and her brother, Rhaegar Targaryen and Jon Snow and while he'd left the name and the stain of being her father's bastard behind, he'd not stopped being her brother more so than her king. Even if he was technically both. With others, though it had become more and more noticeable that he was a king only. Here and now with her mother, it was that side of him that he needed to show and she hoped her mother accepted it and him for who he was and who he needed to be.
"We'll talk later, little sister." Jon said when she moved to him, his hand mussing her hair and the small wink he gave her showed that he was her brother once more.
Dragonstone 299 AC.
Catelyn.
It had been over a year since she'd seen her or held her daughter in her arms and just the feeling of doing so was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She had grown, filled out somewhat, and the little skinny girl who she'd sent off all those moons ago was now turning into a young woman. Still not a lady though and Cat despite how often she'd tried to make her so and the many times she'd chided her for not acting how she wished, now chuckled quietly when Arya fixed her britches in the most unladylike manner.
She reluctantly moved her arms away and let Arya loose from her embrace and the two of them walked to somewhere more private so they could speak. That they did so silently was perhaps out of nerves from them both. Neither of them was sure what to say to each other now that the greetings and the initial emotion of the reunion was over. Looking at her daughter and seeing her with a small thin sword and a knife strapped to her hips, her clothing being that of a boy and her hair shorter than it had been when they'd said their goodbyes in Winterfell, Cat feared she'd say something to upset her little girl. It was clear that Arya too feared it and was prepared for it. The little looks she gave her as they walked were almost in expectation as much as they were to ensure she was actually there beside her, she felt.
It was outside that they found themselves, Cat having intended to bring Arya to her room, and yet somehow it was outside they ended up. The short walk once they left the keep taking them to a garden of sorts, though it was limited in what it contained because of the roughness of the ground. Still, she enjoyed the piney scent and the wild roses were pleasant enough to look at. Cat then chuckling a little louder when she saw Arya take some of the cranberries that grew and eat them hungrily. Her daughter smirking at her when she realized she was not to be chastised for doing so.
"Aegon's garden, he built it for Rhaenys though she rarely stayed here and preferred to be in the air upon Meraxes." Arya said. These being the first words she'd spoken to her since Rhaegar had left them alone.
"Did Rhaegar tell you that?" she asked curiously and Arya shook her head.
"Prince Aemon."
"You look well, Arya, are you well?" she asked nervously.
"I am. I'm….I'm so happy to see you, mother." Arya embraced her once again and Cat wondered how many times her daughter had done so over the years and how long had it been since she'd initiated a hug like the one they now shared.
"As am I, Arya, more than happy." she said feeling Arya shake a little as she sniffled against her chest.
Seeing the long bench, she moved them over to it and took a seat. Arya standing a little longer than she did and so she once again got a proper look at her youngest girl. Whether or not she frowned or showed some displeasure over what she was wearing or the weapons she carried, she knew not, but it seemed she must have done as Arya glared at her and then began speaking animatedly.
"I'm not a lady, mother. I'll never be one and not you, nor anyone can ever make me so." Arya said determinedly and as Cat went to answer she then continued "I am squire to a king, mother. One day I'll be his sworn sword and the first woman to ever wear the white cloak. It's who I am, who I wish to be and though it may not be what you want for me, it matters not. It's what I want for myself."
Hearing her speak to her in such a way was a shock, even when they'd argued over the years, usually over this very attitude, Arya would never have dared to speak so. A part of her wished to correct her, to tell her that she was her mother and that she knew best, but this war had shown her that at times she very much did not. Another part of her was so incredibly proud to see how fierce she was becoming. To see her little girl be so strong and determined that even though it was not what she wished for her, she was happy for her. Yet she found she couldn't express that either and so in the end she stayed quiet and perhaps for now at least, that was for the best.
"Sansa is well, mother." Arya said softly after a few moments "Ghost and Nymeria are with her and she is well."
"I've heard, I long to see her too, Arya. As I have you for so very long." she said and saw the surprised look and the small smile that appeared on Arya's face.
Dinner that night was held with the king, prince, and princess and with Ser Arthur Dayne. Cat finding her eyes drawn to the Sword of the Morning as often as her uncle's were. They'd not spoken on events in the realm or on what Rhaegar's plans were. Her time with her daughter having been spent mainly on making sure that she hadn't suffered during her time in King's Landing and on finding out that she'd seen her father's death, or to be more precise heard it. Cat once again embracing her little girl and she was happy to finally be able to offer her the comforts that only a mother was able to.
She saw how much Arya laughed when Rhaegar spoke. How despite him speaking to his uncle and aunt, or whatever true relation that Aemon and Shiera shared with him, some things hadn't changed. Jon Snow may be dead in name at least. He may be a king now and he may have to deal with all that meant and all that went with it, but he was a brother first and foremost when it came to Arya. Over the years she'd tried to stop that relationship from developing and from being so strong and had clearly failed. So much so that she doubted that any of her children were as close to one of their siblings as Rhaegar was to Arya and where once it had annoyed her, now it comforted her.
"Your grace, may we speak on the war?" her uncle asked and Cat closed her eyes and sighed, as much as she needed to know and wished to, she had found she had enjoyed not thinking about it even if it was but briefly.
"There is much we must discuss on the war, Ser Brynden. Though perhaps it's for the best if we do so on the morrow. Be at peace with the fact that Robb is safe and well and that Tywin Lannister has many things he needs to consider. Other than that, I'd rather not speak on it as of yet." Rhaegar said and reluctantly her uncle agreed, much to her relief.
She slept perhaps more peacefully than she had in some time. Her dreams were of Ned and one of the many good times they'd shared together and though saddened when she awoke, the feeling soon passed. When she dressed and readied to go and break her fast, she expected to see Arya and Rhaegar himself at the table. Only to find they were outside in the sparring yard. Curiosity got the better of her and so she made her way there before eating and found her uncle standing on the balcony that overlooked the yard below.
"She's quite talented, Cat." her uncle said and she had to agree, Arya and Rhaegar were sparring together and her little girl was showing quickness and precision that she didn't know she possessed.
"She told me she's not a lady." she said softly, surprised by the lack of worry or disdain in her voice.
"She's still a lady, Cat. A Northern one."
How long she stood there she knew not, Arya and Rhaegar sparred, then her daughter took a lesson from the Sword of the Morning, and then her uncle faced first Ser Arthur and then Rhaegar himself. Brynden losing to both quite easily and she once again was surprised by that. Jon Snow had been a decent blade from what she remembered, better than Robb much to her chagrin. Rhaegar Targaryen though was much better and she wondered if that was because of the lessons that he'd no doubt had from Ser Arthur, or was it instead, simply because he no longer needed to hide.
After breaking her fast she was asked to join the king in his solar. She and Brynden made their way to it and when she entered the room it was to find Rhaegar sitting behind a large desk. He was dressed how he no doubt wished to appear, as a Targaryen king. While he wore no crown, he did wear the colors of his house, and the material his clothing was made from was of a quality he'd never worn before. Behind him stood Ser Arthur and the hilt of Dawn could be seen clearly over his shoulder. On the other side of Rhaegar, Arya stood, standing as a squire may and offering her a warm smile which she returned. Prince Aemon sat on one side of the table, a hand-shaped pin on his chest making it clear that he too sat here as what he was. Hand of the King and not just his aged grand uncle.
"My lady, Ser Brynden." Rhaegar said, not rising.
"Your grace." she and her uncle repeated as they took their seats.
There was wine on the table as well as water, and she poured herself a mug of the latter while Brynden took a glass of wine when it was offered. Looking to Rhaegar she could see more of him than perhaps she had up to then, or perhaps for the first time she was truly seeing him. All her life she'd been angered when looking into his face, seeing Ned in his features where she did not in Robb, Bran, or Rickon. Yet now, she could not. Instead, it was a silver prince singing in the halls of Harrenhal that she saw and she wondered if any others saw the same thing.
"I've been told that I bear a resemblance to my father, Lady Stark. My true father." Rhaegar said, reading her thoughts, and something about the way he said it irked her.
"Ned was your father, though not your sire." she said snippily.
"My uncle has much to answer for, my lady. But it's for the best we don't speak too much of him as of yet, or I fear this meeting will descend where it should not. Which given what I've to say, it has enough risk of doing so." Rhaegar said and again she was struck by just how very different he was from the boy she'd despised for so very long.
"Why would it descend, your grace?" Brynden asked, thankfully when she could not.
"Before we flew back here, it was to the Twins that we were called. A wedding that turned into a farce, Ser Brynden and one that was planned not by Walder Frey, though he played his part, but by Tywin Lannister." Rhaegar said and Cat felt her heart thumping in her chest, Robb, her son.
"Robb?" she asked worriedly.
"Is safe and well, my lady, as I told you last night." Rhaegar's words relaxing her some, though soon enough her heart was beating fast once again "We arrived to find the Twins in chaos, the Freys were attacking the men in the camps and those inside the keep. We later found out that they'd planned to capture or kill as many of the Northern and Riverlords as they could. Faced with the threat of a dragon, however, they soon stood down."
"My nephew, Edmure, the Lords of the Riverlands?" her uncle asked and she saw Rhaegar frown.
"Your nephew survived, Ser Brynden, though he may wish he had not." Rhaegar said and she turned to look to Brynden who was breathing deeply "After the rescue and make no mistake, that's what it was. For had Ōñosmaghare and I not arrived, then at the very best Robb's army would have been crushed and he and his lords, prisoners. I met with my brother, with the Lords of the North and the Riverlands and my terms were offered and accepted, though not by all." Rhaegar said and she for the first time saw him look angry.
"Your grace?" she asked.
"Your brother, Lady Catelyn, rejected my terms and so he has made himself an enemy of me and my house. When I win this war and I will win, House Tully is to be stripped of its role as Lord's Paramount of the Trident, and Edmure will either lose his head or be sentenced to the Wall." Rhaegar said his voice like ice and when Brynden went to speak she stopped him with her hand.
"And Robb?" she asked worriedly.
"Has finally knelt and pledged his fealty, but has done so far too late and far too reluctantly. My brother will not be Warden of the North, nor Lord of Winterfell. Instead, those roles will fall to Bran and it is to him that I had intended to leave Robb's fate. However, my Lord Hand has made a suggestion that I feel has merit and one given his actions, may work out to Robb's benefit."
She couldn't speak, the voices in her head all threatening to burst forth and to make her say things that would perhaps lose her, her head. All her fears had been proved true and yet they'd not too, or not in the way she'd feared them. For years she was convinced that he'd take Winterfell from Robb and in the end, it seemed he had. Though it was not how she'd expected and while a part of her called on her to name him a usurper and call him out, she found she could not.
"Riverrun, your grace?" Brynden asked and Cat turned to her uncle and then to the king.
"Aye. Given his standing with the Northern Lords and how they may look at him after all he's done, it's perhaps for the best if he makes his home in the South. With your nephew to be attainted, the seat of your House becomes open. Far better it's held by someone of your blood than not." Rhaegar said, leaving no room for question.
"Sansa, your grace?" she asked nervously.
"My sister is with my wife in Lannisport, my lady. I shall be heading there soon enough, perhaps you would care to join me?"
"I'd like that, thank you, your grace."
With that the meeting was done, no more discussion, no talk of the war or what was to come. They were not part of the King's inner circle and so he shared with them all that he wished and no more. As she and Brynden walked from the room, she could see her uncle's anger. Her own was different and if anything she was filled more with regret. The words she'd spoken to Robb and Edmure and the outcome she'd wished to avoid had now become even more true. She wished to rage as she knew Brynden did and yet she could not. For the fault wasn't with Jon Snow or with Rhaegar Targaryen, nor was it with herself, as she'd done all she could. Her son had made bad choices, her brother worst ones by the sound of things. Even when they knew the truth they'd done so while she'd at least tried to do what was right.
"Damn you, Ned, for not telling us all." she said and though she didn't truly blame her husband, she found she blamed him all the same.
The Kingswood 299 AC.
Oberyn Martell.
The march had been a quick one and when he saw Kingswood looming in front of him he smiled. They were days, a week at most from King's Landing and all the years he'd waited for this moment now seemed as if they had been mere moments. Each time he'd held his spear back, or waited and listened to Doran now seemed to be no more than the blinking of his eyes. Tywin Lannister, the Old Lion, a man who had breathed good clean air for far too long was soon to suffer as he had. To know what it felt like to lose family, to feel a pain that never went away, even if in Tywin's case it was to be a fleeting one.
As they set up camp, he had his outriders ride out to make sure they'd not be seen and that their movements had gone unnoticed. He was far too close to the vengeance he sought to have it snatched away from him and yet a part of him feared it would be. There had been no word from the King since he'd met with him, no letters sent or messages received and it made him somewhat fearful. Not that he'd fallen or been beaten, his dragon would ensure that didn't come to pass. More that he'd already taken the vengeance that belonged to him and that he'd find his march to be in vain.
They were just sitting down to eat their evening meal when he heard the roar, Oberyn rushing from the tent to see the dragon landing someway off and he smiled when he saw the King, Ser Arthur, and Arya Stark. By the time he reached them the dragon was flying back in the sky and they were walking towards him. Arthur offered him a warm smile which he returned and he was surprised to see the same one on the king's face.
"Your Grace, I'd not thought to see you here."
"Nor had I expected you to march so quickly, my prince. It seems the gods favor us."
"Thank fuck for that." he said with a chuckle "We were just about to eat, you'll join us?"
"Aye, food would be most welcome, my squire's stomach has been rumbling all through our flight." the king said and Oberyn smirked at the glare that Arya Stark sent the king's way as they made their way to the tents.
The meal was eaten hungrily by all three of them, Arthur more than welcoming the dishes from his homeland. While Arya looked at some of the dishes with concern, she ate each of them and the king seemed to enjoy them most of all. Perhaps it was the Dornishmen in him coming to the fore Oberyn thought. Once they were done, his girls asked Arya if she wished to spar, and with a nod from the king, she was gone from the tent in the blink of an eye. The King and Arthur then asking to speak to him in private.
Neither of them accepted the wine he offered them in his own tent, the King taking water while Arthur did not. When he took his seat it was to see the King look at him curiously, as if he was trying to judge him as a friend or simply reluctant ally. For now, he was perhaps more of the latter, and perhaps he'd never truly be the former. Though on this march he had come to terms with some things he'd never thought he would. No longer did he truly curse the boy's mother, nor even his very existence while his niece and nephew had perished, instead he was grateful somewhat that he did exist. Without him the chance for vengeance may never have come to pass, Tywin may never be in a position to pay for his crimes. So for that reason, he could forget a lot and forgive even more.
"The North has knelt, as has the Riverlords." the king said and Oberyn looked from him to Arthur to see the small nod of the knight's head "Lord Royce has brought his men to my side and ravens have been sent to the rest of the Lords of the Vale. The army that I shall bring down upon King's Landing is larger than the one that we will face, and yet I seek not a fight to take a city."
"You don't?" he asked curiously.
"My wife has taken Lannisport, my prince. She, her men, and her dragons threaten the Rock itself, what would Tywin Lannister do in such a situation?" the king asked.
"Lannisport has fallen, truly?" he asked as he smiled broadly.
"It has fallen." Arthur said simply and directly as was his wont.
"The Rock is everything to Tywin, your grace. It's more than his home, it's a symbol of all that he is. It's never fallen, never been taking other than by Lann himself. Where he to lose it? To be the first of his line to lose the Rock…"
"He'll march, my prince, and when he marches he'll march right into us. The North, Riverlords, Vale, and my men will be the anvil, Dorne the Hammer and Ōñosmaghare will be the smith that brings them all together." the King said and Oberyn nodded.
"And should he for some reason not march, your grace?" he asked, not that he didn't think he would but simply because he wished to find out if they had a plan to take the city.
"Then the armies shall besiege the city and the dragons shall see the gates opened to let them in." the king said and Oberyn smiled, happy to see that even behind the walls of Kings Landing, Tywin would find no comfort.
They spoke then on timing, on how long it would take for the armies to march and join up. Oberyn suggesting sending out outriders further afield and the king telling him that he intended to use his dragon to scout the lands ahead of both forces. That from the air he would see it far more clearly than any would by land. When he asked him, would he attack without them, he was surprised by the shake of the king's head.
"I could, my prince. Perhaps on his own and certainly with my wife's dragons, Ōñosmaghare would be more than enough for the men of the West and for the Reachmen that have sold themselves to join with him. But while I may have no desire for another field of fire, I don't fear one. I'd not attack because I risk him escaping. This war ends with Tywin Lannister dead, it ends with the West crushed and the Tyrells brought to their knees. I don't mean just to break his army, I mean to break the man too." The king said and Oberyn was more than happy to hear it.
"I wish his head, your grace. To be the one that ends him, should he not fall in battle, I wish for him to fall to my hand." Oberyn said and the king looked at him, his eyes focussed on his own.
"For Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon." the King said.
"For Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon." he repeated.
After assuring the king he and the Dornish Army would be where they needed to be, he then told him about Stannis deserting the Stormlands, something that caught him by surprise. Neither of them believed he'd simply given up his claim and again the king said he'd scout ahead just on the off chance the man was lying in wait somewhere. Something again that neither of them truly believed. With the final details now decided for the attack to come, they left the tent and soon found themselves watching as Arya and Tyene sparred against each other.
"She's getting better, your grace." Oberyn said and he spoke the truth, it may have only been a few weeks since he'd seen the young girl wield a sparring blade, but she had improved greatly in that time.
"Not even I am as diligent a student of Ser Arthur's as my sister, my prince." The king said proudly.
He expected the king would be staying only to find out he would not, after briefly speaking to the rest of the Dornish Lords, he, Arthur, and Arya Stark made their way to the black dragon who arrived as if he had been called, something that gave him much to think on. The idea that somehow the king and his dragon communicated to each other and that it knew exactly when he wished to leave, was one he'd not considered.
"When next we see each other, my prince, it will be to finally rid this world of Tywin Lannister and to exact vengeance for the family we both lost." the King said reaching out his hand.
"It will, your grace." he said and he clasped the king's hand, something had someone asked him to do but a few moons ago he'd have laughed at them for.
Watching the black dragon as it took to the sky, he felt his heart begin to race, six and ten years it had taken him to get to this point. Now in a matter of days, he'd finally be at peace.
Dragonstone 299 AC.
Rhaegar Targaryen.
Had he run away from the prospect of dealing with her? Perhaps. The idea of having a conversation with the woman, one that he knew they needed to have, was not one that he'd looked forward to at all. So instead it had been to the Stormlands and Prince Oberyn that he, Arya, and Arthur had gone and now flying back he still was no closer to wishing the conversation to come. Nor was he any closer to sorting out what he thought of Catelyn Stark, how he saw her, or even how he felt about her.
Like him, she too had been lied to by someone they'd both considered the most honorable man in Westeros and while he'd made peace somewhat with how he felt about his uncle, he was a far cry from doing so about his aunt. Aunt, he almost laughed at the idea of naming her as such. Shiera was his aunt, Dany by law and blood had been his aunt and was now his wife. Something he was still waiting for someone to bring up in a way that would cause him to lash out. Yet he hadn't even considered his wife that way, never once did it truly enter his mind that she was his aunt by law and blood. Now he had another and another and he still couldn't wrap his head around one of those at least.
He'd suggested to Arya that she stay with her mother while he and Arthur flew to the Stormlands and the look his sister had given him had made it clear that was not something she would consider. That had led to an almost argument with Lady Catelyn and yet she'd backed down so quickly he'd not known what to make of it. Once he said they'd be flying right back and be gone no more than a day, that had been the end of it and he wished now he'd stayed away for longer. Seeing the Dragonmont loom in front of him, he breathed deeply and felt Arya grip him even more tightly. He bid Ōñosmaghare land and once he'd done so, all three of them climbed down off the black dragon's back. After telling the dragon to eat and rest up and that they'd be flying again on the morrow, he, Arthur, and Arya made their way to the keep.
"You should head for your bed." he said to his sister when they walked through the large double doors.
"I'm not tired." Arya said back, the dropping of her eyes and the yawn she made belying her words.
"Aye, but we have much to do on the morrow and a much longer fight to go on. Sleep Arya, go say your goodnights to your mother and then to your bed." he said and Arya nodded before moving closer to him, Rhaegar hugging her tightly and then watching as she ran off in the direction of her rooms.
"You truly wish to fly to the Northmen on the morrow, your grace?" Arthur asked and Rhaegar shook his head, he truly didn't, but he needed to.
"I wish to be with my wife by week's end, Arthur, to do so requires much flying between now and then. Go rest up, I'll make my way to my room and am well guarded here." he said pointing to the two men who stood at his door.
"I.."
"Go, Arthur, don't make me order you to do so." he said with a chuckle which the knight joined in with.
"As you command, your grace." Arthur said making him chuckle a bit more as he made his way to his room.
When he reached it, he felt the tiredness threaten to overwhelm him, so with a nod to the two guards he entered and readied himself for his bed. Though it was to the drawer in the table in the adjoining solar that he ended up walking to, the letter there where he left it and he found himself reading it once more. His brother's words may not have been written to be hurtful and yet they were and had been and as he read them it made him glad he'd made his decision about Robb before doing so. Had he read these first, then gods know what choice he'd have made regarding his brother's future. His cousin's future if truth be told as it perhaps would be a long time if ever that he named him a brother for true once more.
Jon,
I write this to you in an attempt to bridge the gap that has developed between us. I find myself confused by its origin and do not truly understand why we're at odds. Yet I hope my words will at least rectify that. It pains me that my father kept this from me for so very long and I can't even begin to understand how it must be doing the same to you. But I wish you to know, you're my brother Jon, you've always been my brother.
I, the North and the Riverlands will support your claim for the throne and I believe I can even bring my lords and the lords of the Riverlands to bear and to fight by your side. But we've come too far for us to kneel to a king in the South again, my lords won't accept it, Jon, the Riverlords won't accept it, not for now. Perhaps in time, they will and I shall do my best to have them see you as who you truly are, as a Stark and not a Targaryen. For you may have their blood Jon, but you are a wolf as much as I am.
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. You are as much a part of the pack as Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, or me, you are our brother by choice Jon, if not by blood.
Your Brother,
Robb.
Reading it again brought up all the same feelings it had the first time, from Robb not acknowledging him by his true name to him basically laying it out in words that his usurpation was to stand. He knew Robb meant to bridge the gap, that he may have thought his words to be the ones that he wished to hear, and yet it showed him clearly that he hadn't understood a damn thing about who he was now. Instead, it came across as a pull on his heartstrings, a way to remind him of their family bond while ignoring his own side of that bond. Robb wished for him to accept the crumbs from his table when in truth it was never his table, to begin with.
"I would have knelt for you." Rhaegar said as he rose to his feet and placed the letter back in the drawer, the tears that had fallen the first time he read it, not there this time.
Climbing into his empty bed, he found himself hoping for dreams to come. Hoping to see his wife so she could soothe his wounded heart, but it was not to be and he slept a dreamless sleep. Waking early, he washed, dressed, and then made his way to the sparring yard, Arthur already there as was his wont. The two of them sparred for perhaps an hour and he'd completely forgotten about the letter, his brother, and how he felt about it by the time he was done. Arya then arriving for her own spars and after putting his sister through her paces it was time to break his fast.
She was there breaking her own when all three of them entered the room. Lady Catelyn, her uncle The Blackfish, his granduncle, and aunt, and as Rhaegar greeted the latter two, he saw how her blue eyes kept looking his way. They ate, he japed with his sister and asked Ser Brynden and Lady Catelyn if they were sure they were ready to fly today. Both saying they were, though neither showing any excitement at the prospect. Something that could not be said about Arya, who spoke as she ate and while her mother frowned somewhat at her unladylike behavior, it was lesser than it normally would have been. Perhaps she was simply too happy to be with her again for her to correct her how she normally would.
"It's fun, mother, seeing the world from up on Ōñosmaghare's back. And the speed we can cover distance at, we'll be by Robb's side by nightfall at the latest, it's that right, Rhaegar?" Arya said looking to him, a piece of toasted bread falling from her mouth to her leg as she did so and he chuckled at how she just grabbed it and ate it a moment later.
"Aye, nightfall it should be." he said to a nod from his little sister.
To her, he was still Jon, though she was getting better at using both his name and title when they had company. Looking to her granduncle, he could see the Blackfish was amused by how she ate, spoke, probably by everything she did to be honest. Whatever tales he'd heard of Arya Stark, were all now being proved true and he didn't seem put out by the truth of those tales, or by the girl in front of him. Lady Catelyn on the other hand was far more concentrated on him than on her daughter and perhaps that was why she'd not chided her for her lack of manners or decorum. He knew then that he'd not make it through this day before speaking to the woman and so once they had finished eating, he bid her join him and asked Arthur to take Arya for another spar so her granduncle could see how she wielded a blade.
It wasn't to his solar that he took her, instead both of them walking to the Chamber of the Painted Table, and when his granduncle looked his way and suggested joining them, Rhaegar bid Aemon to leave them for now. What was to be said between them would perhaps best be done where words could be spoken freely and held no fear of others interrupting. The urge to sit in the raised seat and lord it over her was one he resisted, and so instead they took their seats on opposite sides of the painted table itself. Rhaegar trying not to smirk at the fact that he sat where Lannisport would be while Lady Catelyn sat where the Vale was.
"Your grace.." she began but he shook his head
and interrupted her.
"Perhaps it's best we dispense with the titles, for now at least, my lady." he said to a relieved look from her and he waited almost with bated breath to hear what name she'd call him by.
"Catelyn." she said and he nodded, though he knew saying the name would be far harder than the simplicity of his response "Rhaegar." her smile caught him by surprise as did how easily she said his name, far easier than she had ever used the one her husband, his uncle, had given him "I wish to thank you for what you did for Robb. Arya told me just how true your words were, not that I didn't believe you." she said adding the last part hurriedly.
"He is my blood, Catelyn." he said softly, the name feeling strange on his tongue.
"He is your brother, Rhaegar." she said and how he looked at her must have taken her aback for a moment as she then steadied herself and spoke some more "I know he's not behaved as such since being crowned king, but he is your brother and it was not just your words that he ignored or didn't take note of. I counseled him and my brother, my uncle too, to do what needed to be done, what was right to be done…"
He looked at her as she seemed lost in her thoughts for a moment before she spoke again.
"Alas it was not to be and while it bothers me that he'll not be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, it is the only choice he's given you and so I'll not hold that against you."
"One of the few things that you've not." he said and felt childish doing so, but some hurts still remained.
"True." she said surprising him "I'd like to sit here and tell you that it was Ned's fault for keeping it from us both. That had I known the truth of you, I'd have been different, we'd have been different."
"But you cannot." he said bitingly.
"I cannot. I saw you as a threat to my children, though you were never one. I convinced myself that it was that, that it was that reason and that reason alone why I saw you how I did." she said, shaking her head and not looking him in the eye once she'd done so.
"You saw me as a bastard and made sure I never forgot who I was or what I was." he said angrily, yet his voice was soft and it was only his expression and the look of his eyes which would have told anyone how he felt.
"I saw you as worse." she said before reaching for something to drink only to find nothing there.
He rose to his feet and moved to the jug of water, he needed to as he felt he couldn't look at her after what she'd just said. As he was pouring them both out a cup, Catelyn spoke so softly that were he not closer to her, he'd perhaps not have heard.
"I saw you as Ned's son."
"And that made you hate me? Made you wish me gone from your sight and allowed to rot at the Wall?" he asked as he almost slammed the cup down on the table beside her, the water spilling somewhat and it was less than half the cupful that it had been when she then raised it to her lips.
"Aye, it did. I saw you as what I couldn't give him, as truer in looks than mine own children, other than Arya." she swallowed more of the water and he moved to his seat, not reaching it before she spoke again "I was jealous of you. More so of your mother."
"You had no reason to be jealous of me." he said snippily, remembering the truth of his life at Winterfell, though better than most and certainly better than bastards, he was never treated as true and so he was always lesser than.
Lesser than Robb, Bran or Rickon, than Sansa or Arya, sometimes even lesser than Theon Greyjoy, who though a hostage still bore his father's name. In each thing he was given less, his clothing was never as good as Robb's, his education while extensive, never taught him how to be a lord, or the king he know was. Military tactics, sums, how to manage his horse, weapons, and armor, he was taught in essence to be what his uncle wished him to be, a man of the Watch.
He was never to be wed, to have children, to provide for a family and so he'd not been taught how to. Not a day went by that he wasn't reminded that he was a Snow and not a Stark, be it by servants, though at least he had some which had been pointed out to him at the Wall, by visiting lords and ladies and mainly by the woman who sat no more than five or six feet across from him. Jon Snow was lesser than and yet he was and had never been Jon Snow. How his uncle must have loved that little jape, he thought bitterly.
"I was jealous of your mother, Rhaegar. I believed that Ned loved her more than me. That he was burdened by our marriage and that it was your mother who he truly wished to be with." Catelyn said taking him from his thoughts.
"I have mine own issues with your husband, Catelyn, mine own issues…." he trailed off "However he loved you, of that, I have no doubt." he said and was someone to ask him why he offered her such comfort, he'd not be able to tell.
"Yet he loved your mother too. Many years ago I asked him, asked him if he did and he told me so. How he said it, how true the words were on his lips, gods had I known it was his sister..… Had I but known it was Lyanna he spoke of so fervently…."
"The past is the past, Catelyn. It does no good to dwell upon it. Believe me, I've spent many days and nights thinking about what could have been. I cannot offer you forgiveness for how things were between us, I'm not sure you even seek it." he said and she looked to him about to speak but he raised his hand "Nothing you say would make me think it, not for the now."
She nodded at him and her eyes bid him continue.
"My uncle did worse than lie to your or me, in time perhaps I can forgive him, though I fear I may be old and grey before that is true. You are the mother of my brothers, my sisters, for them I wish us not to be against each other. For them I'm willing to put our own past aside and to look only to the future, some things are best left forgotten, Catelyn, the rift between you and I, perhaps that should be one of those things?" he asked looking to her.
"I believe it should." she said softly.
"We shall be flying by midday, you'll need warm clothing as it can be much colder on a dragon's back and Ōñosmaghare will only warm you so much. Has your uncle decided his own plans?" he asked, the time for personal things gone, and instead, it was time for matters to do with the realm once more.
"He'll march with Robb and the Riverlords, your grace." Catelyn replied, formality having returned it seemed.
"Then once we speak with the men at the Crossroads Inn, You, me, Arya, and Arthur shall head to Lannisport and Sansa."
"She is well?"
"She is, very much so. My sister has become the wolf she always should have been." he said and he was happy to see she took it in the manner he meant it and as no slight.
Rising to his feet, he turned to walk from the room, only for Catelyn to call out to him stopping him from doing so.
"You are happy, Rhaegar? In your life? The knowledge of who you are makes you happy?" she asked and he smiled at her.
"My wife makes me happy, without being who I am I could not be with her, my lady. So Aye, I'm happy."
"I'm glad of it." she said firmly and he nodded at her before leaving.
It was actually before midday that he said his goodbyes to Aemon and Shiera, his granduncle and aunt wishing him all the very best and knowing that when next they saw him it would be done. Their family would be back on the throne that was rightfully theirs. He looked on as Arya helped both The Blackfish and her mother settle on Ōñosmaghare's back and then as Arthur took his place behind them. Climbing up the dragon's wing, he soon placed Arya in front of him, then for the first-ever time he felt Catelyn Stark's arms around his waist and tried not to think of the strangeness of that feeling. With a last look to his granduncle and aunt, it was to the skies and to the Crossroads they flew.
Crossroads Inn 299 AC.
Ser Richard Lonmouth.
Seeing the North and the Riverlords arrive had been a surprise and yet not, he'd always expected they would. Their own shock at seeing the force his king had gathered though was something he much enjoyed. After he'd left them at Runestone, ravens had been sent out and the Vale had replied, or most of it at least. All in all, they'd ridden through the Bloody Gate with near enough 12,000 Knights of the Vale, and most if not all the major houses were represented. That those men had marched with Skagosi warriors who to them were perhaps no better than the Mountain Tribes they constantly fought against, only showed the truth of his king.
He, Thoros, the Magnar, and Lord Yohn Royce were the ones to welcome Robb Stark and the Northern and Riverlords to their camp, a camp that stretched for miles on end. Between them, the North and the Riverlords had brought close to 15,000 men matching their own numbers and swelling their army to over 30,000. More than enough to face the Old Lion should Tywin Lannister dare to do so. Immediately on their arrival though, the arguments began. The enmity between the Skagosi and the Northmen threatening to break their army before it had truly joined.
"What the fuck are they doing here? " a large giant of a man called out.
"We fight for the White Wolf." the Magnar loudly replied.
"Fucking savages and cannibals, he'd have us fight with…" another Northern Lord began only for the Magnar to move towards him and pull him from his horse.
"Oh for fuck's sake." he said moving between both men, dwarfed by each of them.
It was actually Thoros and his flaming sword that stopped the fight from starting. Both men moving quickly apart once he brought it close to them and once they did so, the red priest looked to him and he sighed before he began to speak.
"The men of Skagos knelt to the king before you did. They are Leal and true and unlike yourselves have marched under the king's banner. I know not what my king said to you, nor do I care. We find our true friends on the battlefield and the men of Skagos are the king's true friends." he said loudly seeing how the Magnar almost smirked as the men of the North stood down, for now at least.
"You men should set up camp, my prince shall be here soon enough." Thoros said and it was Robb Stark himself who spoke next.
"Prince? Is there another Targaryen other than King Rhaegar?" he asked confusedly.
"King Rhaegar is who Thoros speaks of, The prince that was promised." he said to some odd looks between the Northern and Riverlords.
They had only just gotten settled when his outriders returned, the news they brought to him keeping him on edge and forcing him to have the men formed up. That the Skagosi seemed ready for a fight far more quickly than any shouldn't have surprised him, and yet it still did. Savages, Cannibals, Skaggs, he'd heard them being named as such more than once, but he'd found them to be far from what the tales said of them. They were a proud people, a fierce people who lived a rough life, but they were Leal and true and even outshone his men in preparations when it came time to march for a fight.
"What's going on, Ser?" Robb Stark asked as he and some of the Northern and Riverlords rode to where he waited, and Richard again noticed that he'd not heard one man name him king as of yet.
"Men of the Reach march our way. A little over six thousand of them if my outriders are speaking true. House Tarly, Rowan, and Footly, given the banners."
"An attack?" the large lord, the Greatjon asked.
"I know not. I've riders shadowing them, and…." the smile on his face as he saw the Black Dragon fly in the sky overhead was a true one and he turned to look to see it was one shared by most if not all the men with him. Some of the Vale Lords and men who'd not seen it as of yet being the only ones who did not "I doubt we'll get a chance to fight now." he said with a chuckle, as he turned to ride back to where the dragon had landed.
He, Robb Stark and the Northern Lords, Lord Royce and the Vale Lords along with the Magnar and the Skane, all soon arrived at where the king was now helping a tall red-headed woman from the dragon's back. Richard didn't near to hear the gasp that came from Robb Stark to name the woman as his mother, not after seeing her daughter for himself. Lady Sansa was her mother come again he thought as he looked to Catelyn Stark and to the man beside her who could only be the Blackfish. His attention though quickly turned to his king, Ser Arthur and Arya Stark, none of whom seemed perturbed by the men who marched his way.
"Ser Richard, Thoros."
"Your grace." he said with a bow of his head
"My prince."
"Magnar" the king said warmly and Richard looked to the Northern and Riverlords as they saw the man and the Skane both being greeted as the friends of the king they truly were.
How he greeted the Northern Lords and his brother was telling, the Northern Lords, the Vale Lords, and the Riverlords all been greeted friendlier than Robb Stark was and the king naming him as Lord Stark showing that he was now no longer a rival king.
"You saw the men marching, your grace?" he asked and was happy to see the smile on the king's face.
"Aye, I did. We have naught to fear from those men, Ser Richard. Lord's Tarly, Rowan, and Footly have come to renew their oaths of fealty."
"They have?" Robb Stark asked, his shock clear for all to see.
"Some men are truer than others, Lord Stark." the king said coldly.
He looked on as the king walked with his squire and as Robb Stark and some of the Riverlords moved to speak to Lady Catelyn. Ser Richard was happy to see the smiling faces of both the king and his little sister and how relaxed Rhaegar looked. It wasn't just that Randyll Tarly came to swear to him, nor that Mathis Rowan did too. Though having both men on their side would soon bring more Lords of the Reach their way. Nor was it that the North and Riverlands had knelt and named him as their king, though given how he and his brother acted with each other, that had not come as easily nor as quickly as Rhaegar had wished. It was something else, something he knew not that caused that lightness and so he moved to Ser Arthur to find out what he could.
"He seems in good spirits, Arthur?" he said softly so that only he and Ser Arthur could hear.
"He is, very much so. We spoke to Oberyn and he and the Dornish army march to catch Tywin and his own in a trap. He knows the numbers we have to call on here, how he now has four of the Seven Kingdoms who name him king and some of a fifth and yet it's not that which cheers him so." Arthur said smiling broadly.
"Arthur?"
"From here he goes to Lannisport, a city taken by our queen. He goes to his wife, Ser Richard and that's what lightens his heart." Arthur said and Richard smiled at that. For if ever was proof needed that he was truly his father's son, it had just been given.
Riverlands 299 AC.
Ōñosmaghare.
He and his rider had flown from one side of Westeros to another. He'd not needed to let loose his flames in anger and he found he cared not. He had no wish to do so unless needed and his rider felt the same as he. Though he could feel the time was close to when it would be needed. He would not be alone when he did so, his brothers would soon be joining them and he found himself eager for that. Eager to fly with his brothers for true, to face battle with them by his side, and to see his rider and his brother's rider show those lesser than them what a dragon can do.
So eager was he for it, that when his rider bid him take more people on his back, he did so without question or without doubt. Even though he could feel that his rider cared not for those that joined them and yet the girl his rider loved so much felt both fear and worry for one of them at least. They'd flown over men who marched and he'd asked his rider if they marched to or against them. His pleasure at hearing it was the former was shared by his rider and only enhanced because of it.
It was something that he'd found out much to his delight. The bond they shared only grew stronger each day, the words they shared not needing to be spoken. Though he did like being praised so that others could hear it so. Not that he cared for how they thought of him, but he wished for them to know what it was his rider felt when he looked upon him. The truth of those feelings was for him and his rider alone. Only his brothers and his brother's rider could feel anything that ever came close and he even believed that not even they felt as he and his rider did.
As they flew and he neared his brothers, he could hear them call out for him. Their own joy that he and his rider came their way, shared by his brother's rider and his rider too. It was a different bond that called out to his rider over time and space. A bond between a man and a woman and though it could never be as strong as a bond between a dragon and his rider, he was happy his rider knew this one too. Seeing them the distance, seeing them take to the air and looking to the rider on his brother's back, he roared and it was answered by all three of his brothers. It was not a roar of anger, nor even one of joy, though joy he felt. It was a roar that said what this land needed to know.
The skies belong to the dragons, as does all that lay beneath them. Try and stop us if you dare but beware. For here there be dragons and they are here to stay.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I can give many excuses for the delay, but basically, work sucks, and getting a bad cold doesn't bloody help. I had intended to have the Jon/Dany reunion here, but there are still things to show before then and the chapter would have been twice the size by the time I was done. While that may not be a bad thing, it would have led to delaying it even more, so I moved it to the next chapter.
Up Next Rhaegar meets with the Reach Lords and oaths are renewed and orders are given before he, Arya, Arthur, and Catelyn head to Lannisport. In Essos Tyrion meets a king, Stannis meets with the Golden Company and Tywin finds himself caught in two minds, forcing himself to make a difficult choice as he's reunited with his son. Jon and Dany share some time together before they and their dragons take flight once more, this time to join their armies as the battle for the Throne draws ever closer. In the far North, a man with one eye reaches out to a Wilding King.