StarofR: Eventually. Right now the North is cutting off communications with everyone

Sage: Because Howland looks like a really creepy guy from canon tbh

osterreicher: More like Howland is a little unsettled and when Ned said "He's called Daeron but now he's Jon", he assumed Lyanna named him Daeron. Aso you are right, Daenerys' legitimacy is a lot more concrete.

najex: Howland Reed is honestly an enigma, and reads as a mysterious if not outright creepy guy (yeah I'll totally send my only two kids on a mission beyond the wall with my best friend's crippled child!). As for Jon, he isn't vying for the throne or alliances. All he wants is for his people (and by extension the world) to survive in the face of the Others.

sullen: Eventually, things will have to turn south...

Sonata: Ned swore him to secrecy and then probably had bigger problems to deal with (Ironborn?)

Jtoom: Marrying Val works more of a symbol than an alliance. Remember that the wildling tribes are disunited and although Mance was their leader, this alliance is still fragile and the Wildlings are by no means united. Marrying Val only gets you Mance's tribe's allegiance. It is, however, a much more powerful symbol, if he ends up doing it, as it would tie the North and Wildlings' destinies together. If it does happen, the symbolism will be more important than the actual value.

Mscjit: Interestingly enough, I read all of the ASOS Jon POV chapters to write this, and I think it hits as close to home as book!Jon's personality is.

vasto: And likely never will, to be fair. To him, his father will just remain the man who raped his mother. Unfortunately, the name Targaryen will soon be of much more value than the Stark one...

Guest: There won't be a POV chapter for that because in the end, this isn't Jon's story. It very much revolves around Quentyn. And I'm not sure how that relationship would work at all.

Guest2: The explanation for Jon's dragon growing at such a stupendous rate is more of a science+magic type of deal. Nature loves carrying capacities. It makes sense, because anything is infinite as long as there are resources to sustain it. When there are no more resources, the population of a species ends up stalling. It's the same thing with magic. Westeros went on a downward spiral since the end of the Dance, and slowly the magic "stocks" recovered. Essos drains a lot on itself, but with the return of dragons, Dany has managed to take a lot of that magical "capacity" so that her dragons grow faster than the usual (it's also my reasoning as to why dragons stopped hatching during the Dance, you achieved magical carrying capacity).

Jon has the advantage of living in Westeros, where magic is more complicated. Certainly, it is limited by the influence of the Wall, but it has a lot more "stock" since magical events are virtually inexistent. In canon, that "stock" recharged during the comet incident, but here, the "magical stock" replenished when Quentyn "came back" or "was inserted", a lot earlier than canon, which means a lot more "magic" is available. Therefore, combined with Aemon's older bloodline (and of Valyrian descent, mind you! Don't forget Drogo was just a random guy and Dany still had fast-growing dragons), this means Jon's dragon is growing at an insane rate.

For the rest, again, Howland is just all around very weird.

ATP: See above comment for Val.

quartz: He's not realized it yet, but he certainly has the ability to.


Gulian

For once, Gulian Qorgyle wasn't in the seat belonging to the governor of Sunspear. No, for once, he was one of the many people in the seat right in front of it, behind the desk, staring at his interlocutor in the eyes.

Well, this seqt never was his in the first place. The large Martell banners that adorned the walls behind were quite the hint at that, and gave the room a different type of feel than if these were the three scorpion banners of his on house.

And the person looking through the many scrolls and papers lying around was the person supposed to hold this office in the first place. Quentyn had arrived by ship from Yronwood only yesterday, with plans to go to the capital at the end of the month. In the meantime, though, he had returned to his official duties, which at this point just involved checking over what Gulian himself had been doing.

The news had taken him by complete surprise. What would the point of Quentyn going to King's Landing? Admittedly, there was apparently the need to send a delegation there, but it was led by prince Oberyn already. What was the point of Quentyn leaving when he was needed here above all? Not only did it put him in danger, the lions no doubt knowing about Quentyn's stunt with Lorch, whose skull was sitting on the desk within Gulian's reaching distance, but it made no real sense. Why not send Trystane? After all, wasn't he betrothed to princess Myrcella? Surely this would do better than someone the lions would rather see dead.

Gulian winced as he already knew the answer all too well.

For the entire duration of his tenure as acting governor of Sunspear, the prince in the gardens had only made life harder for him. From orders not reaching specific people, certain key informants disappearing or being relocated overnight, to projects being cancelled…every day was a battle for Gulian, just not the battles with a sword.

Fortunately, the Dornish had experience with battling with quills and words. Other noble houses of other kingdoms may have scoffed at counting coppers or mingling with the smallfolk, but Gulian knew all too well the careful balance of Dornish politics when it came to trade, notably with the free cities, and the importance of the smallfolk overall.

Needless to say, as heir to Sandstone, Gulian knew exactly how to deal with any financial issue, be it issuing from exterior or interior trade. It is perhaps the very fact that he was well-versed with this so-called "copper counting" that Quentyn appointed him as acting governor.

Again, others may have scoffed at the prospect, but the truth is that well…it distracted him. All the games played in a bout for influence or the games played with the Free Cities, were great distractions for him, which didn't involve too much physical effort. At the stroke of a pen, Gulian could tip the balance for a side or another.

The feeling of having such power could certainly have gone to his head if he didn't know what he was planning for. By the end of Gulian's tenure, Sunspear should be completely filled with Quentyn's supporters, meaning either purging the garden prince's influence or turning his faithful to Quentyn with splendid projects. The groundwork had already been laid, after all.

And the prince in the gardens' supporters certainly weren't the brightest of the bunch, if Gulian could say so frankly. It was child's play to have most of them removed or have them brought to his side. All the easier when Gerris did some of the more hands-on work.

"Well." Quentyn nodded with satisfaction. "You've done a wonderful job, I have to admit."

"Well, that's why you sent me here, didn't you?" Gulian showed a slight smile.

"And you've completed this job almost to perfection," Quentyn said while placing the sheet of paper down. "It's a good thing you will have to continue your duties as acting governor when I leave for the capital."

"It's done, then?" Gulian asked with a hint of worry.

"I fear so." Quentyn frowned. "I can hardly disobey my father's explicit command since Overlord is not ready yet."

Gulian nodded sombrely.

"We need more time." Quentyn sighed. "The good news is that, at least, I can read through my father's intentions. He did try to have my influence purged somewhat once already, I will not have it done a second time."

"Gerris stays, then?" Gulian raised an eyebrow.

"No, I need him with me." Quentyn shook his head. "But I've brought Jennelyn and Delilah Fowler along from Skyreach. Admittedly, they lack Gerris' muscle, but they shall be useful all the same."

"I can work with them." Gulian nodded. "You are sure that I am not needed?"

"I think that I need you more here than ever before." Quentyn sighed. "My father will try to bring Sunspear to heel again, and it is time that I show him that it is not his city anymore. For that, I need you."

"You've put a lot of trust in me," Gulian replied softly.

"I have." Quentyn nodded back. "But so far, you've only given me satisfaction. The port is being widened, the fleet construction is going well despite the North stopping its exports, the refurbishment of the palace is going wonderfully well, the medical facilities have been drastically improved and the roads have started to take a new look."

"A good thing that Stannis' raiders have not targeted us." Gulian cut in.

"An interesting development, that." Quentyn acknowledged. "Do we know who they are targeting precisely?"

"The Stormlands and Crownlands for the moment, it seems," Gulian replied. "No Dornish ship has been attacked, but perhaps our own war galleys have deterred them."

"The damn smuggler has a lot of tricks up his sleeve…"

Then the prince added in a very low voice.

"Although we're close to being ready…"

"And who are you taking to that pit of vipers, then?" Gulian asked, changing the subject slightly. "Gerris, Cletus, Arch…"

"Nym and Ned too. I think a lot of dignitaries are coming with my uncle, including your own brother, as a matter of fact."

"Good for Arron, I think he needs to start sticking his head out of Sandstone." Gulian chuckled. "What's Lucian Toland got to do with any of this?"

"Ah…" Quentyn tapped on the desk. "Do you remember these old pirate maps I asked?"

"Yes." Gulian nodded with a surprised look on his face. "Why would you want them? They show some coves where our pirates landed raiding parties along the Stormlands back in the days when we were still at each other's throats."

"For the same reason, I need Lucian Toland and Jaro Jordayne. Both are experienced sailors…"

"And that's why you requisitioned the Ruby and the Pearl?"

"Yes, I need these ships for a very special mission, but I know not if such mission will be carried out. I can only hope it will…" Quentyn trailed. "In any case, they have knowledge of how to quickly and quietly disable a large vessel, and I need such people."

"I guess that if I ask why you will just shrug and tell me that I'll see why later?"

"Precisely."

"Well, it's worked somewhat until now…" Gulian trailed, rubbing his eyes while Quentyn leaped from his seat. "That's it?"

"Yes." Quentyn nodded. "I suppose it is. If all the other things I've asked prior to leaving have been done…I now need to see Cletus."

"Is he up for a secret mission too?"

"No, he's been feeling under the weather recently, and I need to find out why."

Cletus

Cletus felt the sea tickle his feet, the slow tide coming in and burying them in the sand, feeling each grain pass between the cracks of his toes. Warm water hurried up to his ankles, before retreating again. It was late afternoon, but the sun was slowly fading across the horizon, making the usually blue sky take on a darker tone.

The waves kept coming in, one after the other, slowly advancing and retreating. Some barely tickled his feet, others crashed as high as his knees. The Narrow Sea was clearly more turbulent here than around Yronwood, but the pristine waters of the palace's private beach made it a beautiful sight to behold nonetheless.

"I fear there isn't much of a view." A familiar voice came behind him.

"Don't you have better things to do?" Cletus sighed.

"Not really." Quentyn came next to him, placing his bare feet into the water, next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Cletus snapped his head towards his friend.

"Clearly." Quentyn scoffed back. "You've been acting strange for a while, Cletus. I thought that it was only because we were out of Dorne, and you missed Yronwood. I thought sending you home would be nice and you'd come back with the usual snarky attitude, but no. So, I'll ask again: what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Cletus snapped at Quentyn, tightening his fists. "I don't need you to tell me that something is wrong with me! Go away and fuck your cousin like the whore she is and leave…"

Quentyn's fist hit Cletus' face faster than he could comprehend. Suddenly, he was tumbling down, and crashed into the water, soaking his cloak and shirt.

"Don't call Nym that ever again, do you understand?" a voice filled with dread called out, while Cletus was trying his best not to ingest seawater as he struggled to get back up.

Instinctively, he tried to respond with a punch of his own, but a great burst of shame suddenly crept through him.

"I…" Cletus stammered, another wave passing over him, slamming into his cheek as if to hit him again. "I'm sorry…I don't know what happened there…"

Quentyn frowned above him, not giving him his arm to help him back up. Quite shamefully, Cletus had to slowly find his footing, his clothes soaking with water and sand, to get back up.

"Listen, Quent. I don't know what's been happening." Cletus finally admitted. "I've had recurring nightmares ever since Starfall, almost three years ago now. And once these were gone, I don't know…"

Cletus tried to conjure up an explanation, but the truth was that…he had none. He didn't exactly know what was happening. Perhaps it was everyone taking on responsibilities. Gerris was married with a child, Quentyn was basically Dorne's leader and had a child of his own, while he delegated Sunspear to Gulian. Arch was becoming the fiercest warrior in the realm…but him?

Cletus Yronwood, it was if as nothing had changed. Yet, all the while, his friends had grown up around him.

"I don't think I've changed." Cletus finally sighed. "I think you all have, and that I've been left behind."

"You know you haven't, Cletus." Quentyn raised an eyebrow at that. "You're still an essential part of our group. Admittedly, some of your jokes are of poor tastes, but we've long known to live with them."

Cletus let out a small chuckle, retreating from the water and onto the sand, slowly sitting down while taking off the clothes that had been ruined with seawater.

"I didn't mean that." Cletus sighed. "It's as if you've all grown…you know. You and Gerris have a child, Gulian has a wife, Arch and Ned are quickly becoming warriors in their own right…but me?"

Quentyn's eyes narrowed as if he finally understood where Cletus was getting at, and made to sit down next to him.

"I…" Cletus continued. "I feel like I've not grown a single bit. Yes, you might tell me that I am the heir to Yronwood, but…I don't feel like it. I feel like an idiot running in circles while my friends achieve higher goals. I feel alone."

"You're not alone, you have us." Quentyn clasped his shoulder. "You know that you can trust us to do something together if you want to. We can play cards, go hunting…"

"I don't think you realize, Quentyn. I feel alone."

Realisation suddenly dawned on his friend's face, followed by a look of confusion.

"You…are telling me…that you feel alone?"

"Listen, I am not worried about conquering another maiden." Cletus sighed once more. "That's easy. I just want…what you all have. Gerris has Elinor, Gulian has his paramour, Arch found a lovely girl too, and Ned and Gwyneth have been getting along well, and you have…yours. I have no one, Quent."

"I see." Quentyn nodded. "But you know you are still young, right? Your father probably won't arrange a betrothal for some time. The Dornish tradition usually makes marriages occur around five-and-twenty rather than younger ages."

"It's not marriage I fear." Cletus shook his head. "Yronwood is a worthy prize enough that my father may arrange a decent match. I just want what you have…"

"I…understand." Quentyn nodded. "But, perhaps you haven't looked far enough? Or perhaps you could not have stumbled across her yet? I got lucky with Nym, but it took time for me to actually know her. Have you spent more than one night with a girl?"

Cletus shook his head.

"Perhaps you ought to. Or perhaps you ought to know more about them before you think about bringing them to your bed." Quentyn sighed. "I cannot promise that it will work. But I can promise that you will have a much better chance of finding someone that understands you if you start to talk to them."

Quentyn stood up and patted him on the back.

"I'm sure you'll find someone too, friend." He said. "If not here, perhaps in the capital. Who knows? There might be a Reacher or a Westerlander girl that may steal your heart."

Cletus scoffed.

"I think there's a higher chance of the dead coming back to life."

"Be careful what you wish for…" Quentyn's voice darkened before he slowly walked away.

"Where are you going?" Cletus asked.

"The Gardens," Quentyn replied. "I need to see if Aliandra is taking a liking to Ellaria, and I have to see if I keep her there with her aunts or if I bring her back to Sunspear. I need to have finished before we set sail."

"And when is that?" Cletus asked.

"Three days." Quentyn quickly replied. "And go take a bath, Cletus, you stink of salt and seaweed."

Three days…Cletus thought to himself.

The world was moving fast. In three days, he would be aboard a ship heading towards the capital…but he would be damned if he let the world leave him behind.

He needed to start growing.

Be careful, King's Landing, Cletus Yronwood is coming for you. And he has no intention of playing second fiddle this time around.