the only: He doesn't want someone to feel unloved or ignored, which is still a fair thing to think about.
Babylon: Quentyn's argument was that the Baratheons repeatedly rebelled, and Robert's rebellion being justified did not justify its consequences.
juju & Guest: Thanks a lot!
kage: He didn't send Ynys away to spite Quentyn, but because he calculated that a political match to house Allyrion would be better. It was, of course, a big miscalculation.
Daeron
A sort of eerie calm took hold of the column heading northwards, the silence only being broken by the sound of marching soldiers, trotting horses, or the occasional bird chirping.
Jon looked in front of him, hoping to see a familiar figure arise from the morning mist, at the end of the paved road.
Behind him, a large column of soldiers, carriages, horses and carts, all carrying the most precious thing in the world at the moment: food.
All the grain Jon could ever get his hands on, taken from the granaries of Goldengrove, Cider Hall, Ashford and Highgarden. Enough for the North to survive the harsh winter to come, and enough to feed the Free Folk and the combined armies of the North, Riverlands and Vale in the great struggle that would await them in the North.
Finally, though, a large swathe of blue erupted in front of the path, the large river showing itself in all its beauty. There, in front of him, a magnificent castle started to come out of the fog.
In the middle of the river, encircled by water, with only a wooden drawbridge linking it to the shore, was Riverrun.
The ancient keep of the Tullys had stood, unbroken, for the entirety of the war.
A shadow passed over the pale white towers of the keep, hidden by the low clouds.
Riverrun certainly looked majestic from above, and he could not fault Winter from loving the view. Ghost, at his side, certainly agreed.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jon turned to the woman on his right, who had kept silent for most of the journey.
"It is, Jon," she replied with a sigh, "but it isn't Dorne."
"I know." Jon nodded sombrely. "But we are at war, and I need to make sure that we win it first. I promised that I would see you off to Dorne, and I shall, you have my word."
Arianne Martell looked at him with a weary eye, but sighed.
"I trust your word, you have given little reason for me to doubt it," she said staunchly, "but make sure you don't dally too long, or I fear I may have to run away myself, and you will have to pursue me with your dragon."
She then winked at him, and Jon smiled.
Jon had made a promise, and he would honor it. He had vowed to bring her to Dorne, and he would. But not now. Not when his armies needed him, and not when he needed to arrange for all the grain being sent north. Not when Randyll Tarly was gathering another host around the capital and rumors brewed about a large fleet amassing in the Narrow Sea.
But it pained him to do so. Would he have to let her go, when he had thought he'd finally find someone he felt at ease with? Arianne wasn't Val, the Northerners could see the benefits of a match with Dorne. Her brother was known well past their borders, perhaps he could arrange some of that magical powder he has been hearing about as her dowry?
Jon caught himself. He was thinking of marriage, already!
He had to stop dreaming, that would never happen. They would part ways and go where they belonged, he to the North and she to the South.
They crossed the drawbridge first, entering the large courtyard of Riverrun, where he'd landed on Winter in what felt like years ago.
Two people were waiting for them in the centre of it, holding hands.
One he instantly recognized, of course. With his auburn beard and rich dress, Lord Edmure Tully was a figure he had become accustomed to, just as much as his uncle Brynden, who was organizing the distribution of grain in the southern Riverlands.
The lady next to him, though, Jon had to admit he did not know who she was. A tall, blonde, woman, with striking yellow-green eyes and a rich blue-and-yellow dress, with sapphire earrings and expensive jewellery.
Jon immediately dismounted from his horse, patted Ghost on the head, and went to help Arianne dismount from his own.
"Lord Regent." Edmure smiled through his beard. "I see that you also have come with beautiful company."
"Aye, Lord Tully." Jon nodded while approaching him. "May I present to you Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne?"
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tully." Arianne bowed slowly.
"No need to bow before me, it is a pleasure to meet you too, Princess." Edmure said as he bowed to kiss her hand. "But where are my manners! I have not introduced you to my wife!"
"Your wife?" Jon asked with wide eyes.
"Just so, Lord Regent," the woman said with a smile, "we had the wedding ceremony a few days ago, I'm sorry you were not there, but we kept things simple."
"My dear wife, Alysanne Lefford." Edmure smiled while Jon stared, bewildered.
"My congratulations to you, Lord Tully." Jon bowed. "And you, my lady."
Jon kissed Lady Lefford's hand, who smiled in return.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Regent, it's not every day one meets a dragonrider…or two." Lady Lefford smiled mischievously at Arianne, something Jon raised his eyebrows at.
Arianne did not flinch and just shook her hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Tully."
"Forgive my curiosity, Princess Arianne, but what is a Dornish princess doing so far from her home?" Edmure Tully asked.
"I fear that my father decided that the Tyrells would be a better match than you or Robb Stark," Arianne simply said, "Jo…Lord Regent Jon just took me out of their claws."
Edmure Tully seemed surprised, but nodded.
"Princess Arianne and her party of a dozen Dornish are under my protection, Lord Tully," Jon quickly intervened. "I will need for you to provide your gracious hospitality for them, even if it is not likely to last long. I have promised to bring them back to Dorne, and Princess Arianne has promised to intercede to get Sansa back."
"She's in Dorne, then?" Edmure asked.
"Aye, it seems so." Jon nodded. "Although we cannot be completely sure just yet."
Edmure stayed silent, and nodded slowly."Where is Lord Arryn?" he finally asked.
"At the Stoney Sept, with the Vale host, getting ready for our future campaign."
"Very well, and my uncle?"
"Distributing the grain we took from the Reach in the scorched areas around the Goldroad." Jon replied.
Edmure smiled. "It is welcome and will surely ease the smallfolk's lives. You have my thanks. And you, Princess Arianne, and your party, are of course welcome here. I shall give you bread and salt, and have rooms arranged for them."
He turned to his wife. "My sweet, could we perhaps prepare the rooms of Lord Arryn for Princess Arianne, it would be fitting of her station?"
"No need." Arianne stepped in with a grin. "I thank you for your offer, Lord Edmure, but I would rather share my rooms with Lord Regent Jon, if it is no trouble."
Edmure stared at her, then at Jon, and just nodded.
"It is no trouble at all, Princess. I shall ask for rooms to be prepared at once for the rest of your party. Maester Vyman will lead you there, but first…" Edmure's blue eyes met Jon's grey. "Lord Regent, I would need to speak with you."
Jon looked at Arianne, who just waved him away.
"I'll stay with Tyene and Joss, do what you must."
With her blessing, Jon thus left with Edmure, inside the walls of the castle, down the halls, which were now illuminated by countless torches.
"I did not ask you where you got such armor!" Edmure looked in amazement at the Valyrian steel ensemble.
"I took it from the last Greyjoy," Jon said simply. "Slew him in battle."
"Ah, well, good riddance!" Edmure boomed, "these squids have been an annoyance for too long. Although where one could have gotten such a prize, I do not know."
"Aye, I do not know either," Jon admitted. "But it is a beautiful prize, and not something I will spit on."
"Of course not!" Edmure approved. "I would have done the same. And not only that, but you have another prize."
"I wouldn't call Arianne a prize," Jon quickly replied.
"Ah, first names, then. So, you wed the Princess of Dorne?" Edmure asked with a smile.
"No." Jon shook his head. "We are not wed."
"A pity, she is beautiful, and a good match too." Edmure stroked his auburn beard with a sly smile. "Perhaps you should consider it."
"I already have, but I fear Dorne is not where I wish to live, and the North is not where she wishes to live, either." Jon sighed.
"I understand," Edmure said, nodding sagely. "A shame, the way your voice breaks makes me think you like her."
"I do." Jon sighed. "I really…I want to wed her, Lord Tully. But she and I can never be."
"If it is reciprocated, then I can just as well offer you lands here, in the Riverlands. Or some castle in the Westerlands, such as Hornvale or Silverhill?" Edmure grinned.
"A generous offer, Lord Tully, I thank you." Jon chuckled. "And I see you made plans for your House already."
"Lady Alysanne is a beautiful woman, and a smart one," Edmure replied,, "and with a good dowry too! She is the heir to her house…"
Edmure left the sentence hanging, to which Jon just stared in confusion.
"Apologies, I should have said 'the only heir to her house'," Edmure corrected, "our first son will inherit Riverrun and our second the Golden Tooth."
"Why the change in position? Lady Lefford had once been one of our fiercest opponents. She defeated Robb, and then defeated you too," Jon pointed out.
"You think she wouldn't fall to my charm alone?" Edmure asked.
"That's not…"
"Oh, don't worry, Stark!" Edmure laughed. "Aye, not my charm alone. Alysanne is smart: she saw where the wind was blowing. With the Lannister power shattered, it was only a matter of time until the road was clear for us to take her castle, her lands and more. By marrying me, well, she gets to keep all of that, and I get a beautiful woman, a castle, rich lands, and a new vassal."
"Smart." Jon nodded, impressed by Edmure's reasoning. "And you, Lord Tully, why the sudden reversal? I thought you did not wish to marry till the war was over?"
"Cat…sorry, Lady Stark, often told me to wed." Edmure sighed. "She always asked me to protect the Tully line, for there was no male heir other than Rickon, and I agreed with her. But the matches that my father tried to make for me did not pan out, and neither did those whom the Riverlander lords made. In all, Alysanne Lefford was the best choice I could make for my house and myself."
Edmure turned to Jon, stopping along the road to a large staircase, leading up. A soft chill could be felt in it.
"But there is another reason why Cat convinced me to marry. She sent me something," Edmure stopped for a few moments, before resuming, "well, she did not send me something. More like your friends in the North sent her something, and she immediately had it sent to me."
"My friends in the North?" Jon looked confused.
"Aye, the wildlings," Edmure replied. "Do not look so confused, Lord Regent! Everything will soon make sense."
Jon frowned as he made his way up the tower towards another corridor. At the entrance, no less than four guards. And in that corridor, a single door, once again guarded by four guards.
"Come with me." Edmure motioned.
All the guards stood at attention as the lord of Riverrun asked to be let in. One of the guards fumbled with the key, but eventually managed to open it for the two of them.
As soon as they closed the door, Jon was met with screeches.
Familiar screeches, added to the scent of death.
His eyes went wide as Edmure ushered him forward.
There, in the corner of a room, was a cage, large enough to contain a person, with enough bars for it to be impossible to escape. And thank the gods.
Because Jon knew exactly what was in that cage.
"How…" Jon gasped as he saw the figure inside the cage. It used to be a man, at least Jon thought so. His face was naught but a skull, with bright blue eyes, clad in a cloak of wool, from which half-decomposed black hands desperately tried to reach him.
"My sister sent one to the Vale as well," Edmure pointed out, calmly. "I must admit that I did not believe what my eyes laid upon the first time I saw this…thing. I thought about a Myrish contraption. If it were not my sister that sent this, I might have named the sender mad."
"Where did they find this wight?"
Jon felt a chill down his spine. If they found it south of the Wall, it means the undead found a weak spot around it, or through it. Then…the south did not have any time left.
"Outside of the Wall," Edmure replied. "The King of the Wildlings, can't remember his name…"
"Mance Rayder."
"Yes, that is the one." Edmure nodded. "He has apparently sent patrols to capture some, to hope to sway the lords of the realm."
Jon released a breath he did not know he had been holding. The Wall still stood and the wights were not released onto the North, that was good news. But if Mance managed to capture a wight so easily, it meant that they were getting bolder…and closer too.
"I showed this to every lord that came to Riverrun. Alysanne too." Edmure continued. "You should show this to your Princess, as well as her companions."
Jon winced. He wanted to, but subjecting Arianne to such a sight could be dangerous, make her faint or worse. Already she had complained about the cold weather making her head spin…
But her party was something else. Ser Joss Hood in particular was a knight of good standing and quite respected, perhaps his word would be enough to sway the rest, including Arianne.
"Aye, I'll tell them to come."
"With this, I agree with you, Lord Regent," Edmure continued, walking away from the wight, Jon following closely behind. "This war we have been waging is secondary. If they have been gathering corpses from the Lands Beyond The Wall, then we will need our armies and your dragon to defeat them, and the conflict must be ended soon."
"Aye, we must end, or at least freeze the conflict, but how?" Jon asked.
"Taking the mountain fortresses and ensuring the safety of our borders is a step…" Edmure thought for a moment, closing the door behind him, "and perhaps offering a cessation of hostilities for the duration of the War in the North?"
"Aye, that would be preferable," Jon agreed, "I doubt the Tyrells or Lannisters can oppose us, their forces are just as depleted as ours."
"And we have your dragon," Edmure concluded, sighing. "It remains to take these castles on the border, though."
"I see what you are asking, Lord Tully, but I made a vow," Jon replied.
Edmure stroked his beard for a few moments.
"Mhm, but you must also think about the war. Consolidating our position in the West would be invaluable."
Jon took a measure of his words and grit his teeth. He had him there, but the campaign to the West would last two to three months, and he'd promised he'd take Arianne to Dorne in no later than one.
"I shall consider it, Lord Tully. Such an action cannot be decided on a whim," he finally decided to reply.
Edmure nodded in turn, when a man came running towards them two.
Jon instinctively put his hand on Longclaw's pommel, but, to his relief, did not have to unsheathe it. It was only a messenger.
"A message from the Marches, my lords," the messenger panted, "it was said I should've given this to you in priority."
Edmure thanked the messenger, eyes circumspect, and started reading, when his eyes went wide.
"Bad news, Lord Tully?" Jon asked, unnerved.
"The Dornish have taken Nightsong and Blackhaven," Edmure said, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand, "their host in the Stormlands, led by Prince Quentyn Martell and the Red Viper, Prince Oberyn, counts Golden Company banners amidst them, but more importantly…"
"More importantly, what?" Jon asked impatiently.
"Your kin have come too. Three dragons have been seen turning above the Marches and the Kingswood."
"My kin? Dragons?" Jon asked.
"Aye," Lord Edmure replied, "the letter came with another. One that simply reads: 'King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, and Queen Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, have returned to Westeros. Our terms our simple: bend the knee, and be spared, or fight, and be destroyed.'"
"Aegon…it can't be!" Jon exclaimed. "He died during the Sack!"
"Aye, well if he did, the mummer playing his part must've put on quite a show if he convinced his aunt and all of Dorne to follow him." Edmure gruffly gave him the crumpled letters, which Jon quickly read.
"Three dragons to one…" Jon sighed. "The balance of power has suddenly shifted, if what your spies say is true."
"Aye, it also means we cannot continue the preparation of our campaign west, nor can we send the Dornish back."
"The Dornish are under my protection, they stay with me, Lord Tully," Jon warned.
"I meant no offense, just that they must be closely watched," Edmure countered.
Jon had no problem with that. War was war.
"Send a raven to Lord Arryn. We must not wait; their objective is clear: take the capital. If we get there before them, we might still be able to catch them after they have faced against the Tyrell's host, thus catching them at their weakest. And…well, I would rather it all end amicably anyways. We need those dragons for what is to come."
Edmure nodded. "I agree, but we need to summon a war council, and at once."
"Then, there is not a moment to lose. Summon everyone at first light tomorrow."
Jon and Edmure shook hands and parted ways, Edmure heading towards the courtyard, likely to have ravens sent, while Jon headed to his rooms.
They were exactly as he had left them several months ago, except for the fact that a Dornish beauty was lying in his bed.
"Really, you Northerners have terrible taste," she turned to him with a sly smile, "nothing fancy, everything basic, grey, dull. Where are the colours? The flights of yellow, blue, purple or green? Where are the vases and artworks, the glasses and linens, the colourful cushions and embroidered bedsheets?"
"I was raised a bastard; I am afraid I did not have such luxury. I therefore ordered Lord Tully to keep things simple for me."
"Simple," Arianne scoffed. "You are Lord Regent, they should give you rooms better suited for you rather than this place."
Jon raised an eyebrow. He quite liked his Riverrun rooms. They were spacious, with anything you could need, and true, it lacked a little colour, but he did not need this. The Watch rooms certainly were not brightly coloured, and his rooms at Winterfell, although quite comfortable, were never as beautiful as his uncle's or Robb's.
"I like it." Jon shrugged.
"Well, I already ordered some colors to be put around here," Arianne countered.
"I'm glad to know you're feeling better." Jon chuckled.
"Yes, the migraines have gone away, but my stomach pains me somewhat." She shrugged. "It'll go away, it must be the anxiousness of being far away from Dorne."
"If it's any relief, we might set out earlier than expected." Jon bit his lip.
"Really?" Arianne stood up. "Did you convince someone to take your affairs in hand?"
"Not exactly." Jon pulled a chair in front of her and sat down. "Your brother, Prince Quentyn, has crossed the Boneway with an army, and taken Blackhaven. He has three dragons with him, and gave his allegiance to King Aegon, Sixth of His Name."
"Aegon died in the Sack," Arianne said, her face stuck in a stunned expression.
"Well, he certainly looked real enough to your family and his aunt, who was crowned Queen Daenerys, First of Her Name."
Arianne slumped back on the bed, holding her head in her arms.
"Does that mean I'm a prisoner again?" she said, raising her head back to him, tears in her eyes.
"Gods, Ari, no!" He took her hands in his own. "You are under my protection, and I promised to get you to Dorne, so that I could get my cousin back. You and all your party. But this means that your brother is my enemy, and that of Lord Tully's. It also means Dorne is the enemy."
"So, we're not to be prisoners, but guests?" Arianne scoffed.
"I'd say your movements will be much more restricted than before, yes." Jon nodded, "But you must understand…"
"I understand." Arianne said, her tone resigned.
"If it is any solace, you shall come with us towards the capital as soon as we set off," Jon continued, "I do not want more bloodshed, and if I can persuade your brother and my own to not fight, I would like that opportunity."
"Please." Arianne threw himself into his arms. "I don't want to choose between my brother and you."
"And I pray you won't ever have to make that choice, Ari," Jon tried to comfort her. "But likewise, I do not want to make a choice between kin, and I might have to."
He looked into her eyes, but only found sadness and despair.
"I'll bring you home, I promised that much," Jon said solemnly, "and I'll see it through."
"Thank you." Arianne nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you, then?"
"I'd like to send me Ser Joss Hood, actually," Jon replied, "I would wish to show him something."
"Show him what?" Arianne asked.
"Something that I cannot show you," Jon said, "for your own health."
"What is it, Jon? I am not a little girl anymore." Arianne's expression had gone from sadness to annoyance in a few moments.
"Something bad, something terrible. Something that comes from the depths of legend."
"In Riverrun?" Arianne raised an eyebrow.
"Aye," Jon replied. "A wight, brought from the North."
"A wight? Like the ones you talked about in your stories of beyond the wall?" Arianne looked at him with a surprised air. "I must admit that if you told me about them, why refuse to show me what I laughed about for so long?"
"Because they smell like death, and look like death, Arianne, it is not something that you forget, and it is certainly not something that you should see with your own eyes if you can avoid it."
Arianne stood up, towering over him.
"I am a Princess of Dorne, Jon." She put her hands behind her back, putting on her most serious air. "If someone can persuade the Dornish to help our cause, it is I."
"Our cause?" Jon raised an eyebrow, though he smiled inwardly. Arianne did not lack for passion or conviction.
"You talk in your sleep, when deep in your dreams, Jon." Arianne smiled. "About hordes of undead on the Wall, and the need to prepare for Winter and defeat the evil. To unite the kingdoms to fight them off. I did not need much reflection to put the pieces together."
"And you truly wish to see it? It is not a pretty sight, and I would not risk your health."
"It is not Joss Hood that will convince Dorne, I shall say that much." Arianne pointed to the door. "Lead the way."
Jon stood up and hesitated.
"Lead the way, Stark," Arianne leaned behind him and whispered into his ear, "or I'll make you."
Jon smiled. "You never cease to amaze me, Ari."
"I love it when you compliment me, but we'll have time for it later. For now, it is time to see what your creatures of the night look like."
"Well then, I'll be at your side," Jon said, holding her hand firmly. "And do not, for one second, try to repress a scream or try not to look away. I will not judge you for it."
"Do not fret, Jon." Arianne winked as she leaned towards the door, opening it, while staring into his grey eyes. "I love being weak with you."
