Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

by Alperez16

My take on what a possible Jon Snow show set after season 8 could be.Bloodraven has one last trick up his sleeve before he dies,a contingency in case his doubts prove true.A broken man Beyond the Wall may not be as broken as he seems and as the ramifications of Northern Independence and Bran Stark being named King play out, House Targaryen and its last scion seek to have the laugh.

9. The King and Queen

A/N: For those who wish to avoid such things, there is a Lemon scene in Desmera's pov, it's marked where it begins and ends so it can be skipped if that's you wish.

Oldtown 306 AC.

The Honorable Smuggler.

On his journey back from Storm's End, Davos found himself dealing with the waste of time that journey had turned out to be. The failure that it truly was and what it meant that he had once again failed a king. Many years earlier it had been at Stannis' behest that he'd sought allies to bring to his side and Davos had found them few and far between. Even when he directed Stannis to travel to the Wall and offer aid to the Night's Watch, thereby showing himself as a king who cared, it led to nothing but failure. Worse than that, it had led to tragedy. So now as Oldtown finally came into view, Davos worried that history was repeating itself.

By the time the Black Betha had docked, Davos had turned his mind away from his failures and back to the king he now served. Once again he was to be Hand to a king who was heading to war and so as he walked from his cabin, it was with those thoughts that pondered on. He had made it no further than the deck when he saw there was an escort awaiting him. Tormund, some men of the Free Folk, and some men bearing a sigil of a red dragon and white wolf on their armor. Davos looked at the men confusedly before realizing that the answer to the question that was on the tip of his tongue actually awaited him on the docks. So more quickly than he may have done so otherwise, Davos hurried down the gangplank and moved to where Tormund stood.

"Tormund," Davos said, greeting the redheaded Wildling fondly.

"Davos. He's waiting for you and will be happy you arrived in time."

"In time?"

"For his wedding," Tormund said smiling brightly

"Wedding? Who's he marrying?"

"The lady kissed by fire, Davos," Tormund said wiggling his eyebrows and smiling broadly

"I…"

Davos found he couldn't actually ask the question he wished for and so instead he asked another. Listening eagerly as Tormund spoke of the battle of Highgarden, how easily it had been won, and how Bronn was now dead was no true surprise. Davos had not truly known the man that well but he'd known what folly it had been to name him as Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the Reach. Let alone Master of Coin. He knew too that given the ravens that Jace had intended to send, Bronn would then march on Oldtown. Though he'd not expected the battle to have come and gone so quickly.

He knew too that in facing Jacaerys Targaryen, Bronn would find himself outmatched. This war was not going to be like the one they'd fought in the North. There would be no lack of men and unlike then and his worries for his brother's safety, now there was no reason for Jacaerys to rush and fight before he was ready. This time, they had time to prepare and if you gave a man like Jacaerys Targaryen time to prepare, then you had better outnumber him significantly. Davos doubted there was anyone left in Westeros who could do so. Not anymore.

So caught up was he in his thoughts, that he missed it when Tormund spoke of the red dragon. Even when he arrived and was led through the Hightower to the King's Chambers, Davos walked with no expectation of what he'd see once he entered the room. Nodding to Sigorn and Ser Humfrey, he and Tormund waited to be asked to enter and once they were, Davos gasped loudly at the sight he saw once he did so.

"That's a fooking dragon!" he exclaimed as he looked at the red dragon that screeched at him loudly.

"Sagon rȳ lyks, Aegerax, ziry's iā raqiros." (Be at peace Aegerax, he's a friend) Jace said softly and the red dragon looked at Davos through eyes filled now with curiosity rather than wariness.

Shaking his head and trying not to be annoyed at Tormund for not warning him and himself for not listening to the man as they had walked, in case he had, Davos moved slowly to where Jace and the red dragon were.

"How, Jace?" he asked, knowing that his king still hated the use of titles and that much had not yet changed for the lad.

"It was always meant to be so, Davos. Gods, fate, me being a Northern Fool, all of it conspired to rob me of the life I should have lived and so it's only now that Aegerax was born instead of many years earlier."

"Many years earlier?" he asked as Jace bid him sit and Tormund moved to pour himself some ale.

"Had I been told the truth of myself then my life would have been much different, Davos. I would have traveled to rather than lived at the Wall. I'd have met my granduncle and spoken to him as kin rather than as two strangers. Had I but known who I was, then the dragon in me would have sent me to Queenscrown and while my brother fought in a war in the south, it would have been one where he'd have had a dragon to call upon." Jace said, regret clear in his tone.

"As mighty as he is, King Crow, not even he would win you a war."

"No, he'd not." Jace said, answering Tormund's doubt with conviction "Yet I was talking not of Aegerax, at least not exactly."

"I understand you not at times, King Crow," Tormund said to a loud and true laugh from Jace.

"The curse of the South, Tormund. More words are needed than either of us are truly used to. Though I'm getting better at it. Davos, what would my truth have meant in the War of the Five Kings? How would things have gone if there was a sixth?"

"Jace?" he asked, unsure what he truly meant by his question.

"I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, Davos." Jace said, even more firmly than he had the first time he'd spoken those words "The true heir to the Iron Throne. I'd have had the letters that prove me so, the sword I now carry and a real-life dragon, small though he yet still is" Jace leaned over and rubbed his hand over the red dragon's scales and Davos heard it trill loudly "After Renly fell, who would the Tyrells have sought to ally with, Davos? Tywin Lannister or Jacaerys Targaryen?"

Davos saw it then and it was as clear as day. The red dragon was too small to win a war, had it been hatched when the War of the Five Kings had started, then as a weapon, it would be next to useless. As a symbol, however, it would have been the most powerful one of all. Lady Catelyn had traveled to negotiate with Renly Baratheon and had left after Melisandre's fell magic had taken him from the world. Given their animus, the Tyrells had sought to ally with the Lannisters rather than with Stannis. Had they been told that a son of Rhaegar Targaryen lived, then it would have been he and not them that they'd have sought to tie their Golden Rose to. They may have even sought it before tying themselves to Renly had they known of Jacaerys early enough.

A shudder ran down Davos' spine at the thought of it being the lad in front of him rather than Renly Baratheon that Melisandre had sought to take from this world. Given what they'd later faced, Davos was under no doubt that had she done so, then it would be dead men who roamed the lands and a king of ice that all now knelt to. Though given that Jon Snow had survived death once already, then mayhap not even Melisandre would have been able to take him from this world for true.

"Davos?" Jace asked concernedly.

"Forgive me. Lost in thoughts of days long passed, Jace."

"I find myself much the same at times." Jace sighed.

"The Tyrells would have reached out to you and you'd have been asked to wed Margaery Tyrell in return for their support, Jace. Lady Olenna would have insisted on it" he said

The laugh caught him by surprise. Not because Jace didn't now laugh more at times, or even that he'd not done so already in this strange and odd conversation they were having. Instead, it was the nature of it, as it was not truly a humorous laugh as such.

"Fate fucks us all, Davos. The gods do so love their little japes."

"Jace?" he asked as even Tormund joined him in looking confusedly at Jace now.

"Had my life turned out one way, then I'd have named a granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell's as my wife and queen, Davos."

"And now you're to do so anyway," he said, to a nod of Jace's head.

"Though this time it was me seeking rather than it being sought. Or mayhap I'd have done so with Margaery too had things turned out differently. It matters not, not truly." Jace said, reaching down to the red dragon once more "Tell me of Gendry, Davos."

After speaking of his failure with Gendry, Davos took some comfort in the fact that Jace seemed upset by it if not downhearted. When he was offered the chance to sit out the battle to come, Davos shook his head. While he wished things were different and he knew full well that Gendry had signed his death warrant by not accepting Jace's offer, he had long since picked the king and man he wished to serve. Something he told Jace and which Tormund slapped him on the back for. Before he then left Davos and his king to speak some more.

Davos was stunned by just how many Lords and Houses had declared for Jace already. He'd known that most took no delight in naming Bran their king nor in Tyrion being the Hand of said king, yet he'd thought it would take longer for them to come around. Once word spread about Highgarden and the red dragon, even more, would come to their side. As they would when they heard about who Jace was marrying. Unless Bran and Tyrion somehow managed to bring all those opposed to Jace's rule together, they'd stand no true chance of stopping him from taking the throne other than by sending catspaws after him. If it came down to simply battles, the war was practically already won. Yet given who they were dealing with, Davos found himself worrying that it would not come down to battles alone.

"Davos?"

"You're certain that Sansa won't join them, Jace?" he asked, removing one doubt from his mind before expressing the other.

"My cousin wishes to be the queen of all seven kingdoms, Davos. Just as he believed the North was hers by right, she believes it of the other six too. Lady Malora has told me that she wed Harrold Hardyng, you know of him?"

"He's the heir to the Vale if I remember rightly."

"Not anymore, Robin Arryn is dead. Murdered."

Davos gasped, surely Jace wasn't saying what he believed he was saying. Would she truly go so far and if she would with her cousin from the Vale, then were not his fears for Jace even more sound now?

"Your own safety, Jace. I…"

"I'm well protected, Davos. Other than Arya, they have no one who can even get close to me and she's far from these shores. I'll have no need to worry about my faceless cousin for some time yet."

"Yet?"

"Oh, she'll come to me at some point, of that, I've no doubt."

"And?"

"She'll find that it's not only all men that must die, Davos," Jace said chillingly.

He wished to speak more on that, to try and convince Jace that there was some hope of reconciliation, yet now was not the time for such. Instead, Davos asked about the upcoming wedding and though he saw not the same look in Jace's eyes as he had when they'd spoken of the Dragonqueen, there was enough in them to make him think that it was not a match based simply on politics. He hoped it was not, as the lad deserved someone to share his heart with.

"We have much to do, Davos. It's time for you to be my Hand once more. A true Hand this time, not simply as it was last."

"Your grace," Davos said, rising to his feet.

"I had it made for you, wear it well, Davos. For your king will have much need of you in the days and years to come." Jace said as he held out his hand and Davos saw the golden hand pin he bore in his palm.

"I will do my best, your grace."

"Then there really is no man more worthy of it than you, Davos."

Oldtown 306 AC.

The Bearded Lion.

Almost four thousand men he'd gathered. More than a thousand true cavalry and another thousand who rode but were not trained as such. With the rest made up of archers, infantry, and ancillary forces. Down the Ocean Road and passing close enough to Highgarden for his scouts to speak of the battle that had clearly taken place there. A battle that had been won by the dragon that now named himself as king and which, by all reports, had ended with the death of Lord Bronn at Jacaerys Targaryen's own hands.

They had turned from the Ocean Road onto the Roseroad and as they neared Oldtown, Daven had found his mind going back to when he'd found out about Oxcross and how it had made him feel about the Wolves and Robb Stark. Had someone told him then that there would come a day in the future where he'd find himself allying with the Young Wolf's bastard brother, Daven may very well have ended them where they stood. Even now, a part of him almost demanded that he set this army of his loose and seek Jon Snow's head. Only three things stopped him from doing so.

The first of those was that it was no longer Jon Snow that the man he rode to saw himself as. While the second was that as Lady Genna had rightly said, there were others far more deserving of their hatred and who they wished to see dead. As for the last, well that was simply the fact that Daven wasn't sure that he had the men, skill, or even the courage to try his luck against a man who'd beaten death itself already. Still, it irked him some and so by the time they saw the walls of Oldtown in the distance, his mood was not a good one.

"We make camp here. I'll ride into the city with a small accompaniment. The last thing we wish for is for them to name us enemies before we've had a chance to break bread together. Ser Walder, you and Ser Flement have command. Ser Lyle, form up an honor guard and we'll ride together." Daven said to his cousin Walder, Flement Brax, and Lyle Crakehall. The Strongboar, though, was a man he would much prefer at his side when he stood face-to-face with the dragon.

Though they'd suffered much loss during the War of the Five Kings, its aftermath, and the Field of Fire that Daenerys Targaryen and her black dragon had wreaked upon them, they were still some of the best-trained men in Westeros. Daven had drilled them well since the Dragonqueen had met her end and the Broken King was crowned. So he had no need to look to see if his orders were carried out. Instead, as the tents were being set up, he, the Strongboar, and twenty men rode to Oldtown. All the while, Daven wondered if they'd make it without being stopped and just what he'd see once he was face to face with Jacaerys Targaryen.

They were still a few hundred yards from the main gate into Oldtown when the riders arrived. Men all bearing the sigil of the new king, a white wolf, and a red dragon. Daven found himself looking at the men and he was unsurprised to see some who looked far too rough around the edges to be Reachmen. Were he to name them as anything, then he'd name them Wildlings. Which wasn't truly a surprise given all he'd been told about Jacaerys Targaryen. Looking to the Strongboar and the men with him, Daven bid them hold their tongues and then welcomed the escort when it reached him.

"Ser Daven, Welcome to Oldtown.'' The man in the lead of the escort called out as Daven looked more closely at him and saw the Hightower sigil.

"Ser Garth?" he asked, hoping to find that he'd gotten the man's name right and that it was indeed Ser Garth Hightower that he sat across.

"Indeed, Ser Daven. I shall take you and your men to the Hightower. You've arrived at the most fortuitous of times." Ser Garth said as he bid Daven and the others to follow them.

Though words were shared between them as they rode, they were mainly generalities rather than specifics that were discussed. Other than it being a wedding of some sort and that the king was indeed in residence at the Hightower, Ser Garth spoke little about Jacaerys Targaryen. He did, however, speak enough to let Daven know that House Hightower was completely behind the king. Not that Daven had expected otherwise. The Reach had always been among the Targaryens' biggest supporters after all.

They quickly dismounted upon reaching the large open courtyard that led to the Hightower. Daven and his men accepted the bread and salt when it was offered. As they were led into the large keep, he was surprised they were allowed to keep their weapons. Looking around as they walked, it was clear that whatever wedding it was that was taking place, it was one that was to be held in the Hightower and so Daven tried his best to think on which daughters and sons of Leyton Hightower remained unwed. He found that he was unsure of all of the names of Lord Leyton's children and so by the time they reached the Great Hall, he was no nearer to finding an answer.

"The Lords of the Narrow Sea arrived just before you did, Ser Daven. His grace is greeting them now, if you and your men will wait here, I'll let his grace know that you've arrived.."

"I thank you, Ser Garth."

No sooner had Ser Garth walked away than the Strongboar moved to speak to Daven. Lyle bore an eager look in his eye as they awaited leave to enter and be greeted by the king.

"I never met a dragon before." the Strongboar said with a chuckle.

"The closest I came was on the damned road. At least this one doesn't breathe fire."

"You think it's true what they say?"

"What who says?"

"The Septons and Septas."

"That he can't be killed and is a heathen demon sent from the seven hells," Daven said laughing half-heartedly as he spoke.

"Yes, that."

"I've yet to meet a man who can't be killed by something or someone, Lyle. I doubt we'll do so today."

The Strongboar nodded his head and a moment later, Ser Garth arrived back and bid them follow. It would be just him and Ser Lyle with two of their men who stood in front of the king. While the others would enter the Great Hall but stand at the back of it. Entering through the large double doors, Daven noticed the hush that came over those already inside. His eyes looked to the high table and it took him a moment to find the man who would be king.

Jacaerys Targaryen was not a truly large man. If he ever stood next to the Strongboar then he'd actually look small in comparison. Yet, even as he sat and looked down on them, there was a presence about him. Dark of hair and grey of eye, Jacaerys looked exactly what he was, a man who'd fought and fought hard for most of his life. He wore black and red and though his coloring may name him a Wolf, his bearing was pure Dragon.

Hearing the gasp from the Strongboar, Daven turned his attention from the king and to what had grabbed Lyle's attention. During the War of the Five Kings, Daven had been lucky enough not to face the famed Direwolves of House Stark. He had heard tales of the one that the Young Wolf had and how large it truly was, though he'd dismissed them as the scared words of men whose bravery had deserted them. Looking to the white wolf that stood by Jacaerys Targaryen's side, he now felt he owed those men an apology. The wolf was the size of a small horse and its red eyes seemed to stare deep into Daven's very soul as he looked at it. Had it not been for the twin screeches, and the words that Lyle spoke, then he may have stood there in silence for only the gods knew how long.

"By the Seven, That's a Dragon!" Lyle said and Daven turned away from the white wolf and caught sight first of a golden eagle that rested on top of the king's chair and then of a red dragon that coiled around itself as it lay on Jacaerys Targaryen's shoulder.

"Ser Daven, we welcome you to Oldtown.." Jacaerys Targaryen said, his voice sounding as kingly as any that Daven had ever heard and only part of that was because of the red dragon on his shoulder.

"Your grace, on behalf of the Westerlands and my House, I come to swear my fealty to you and to offer you our swords in the wars to come," Daven said moving forward and taking a knee, the Strongboar and two guards they'd brought with them, all kneeling too.

"Arise Ser Daven. I accept your oaths and we have much to speak on. However, you've arrived at a most joyous occasion and so on behalf of my betrothed, I would take this opportunity to invite you and those with you to be a guest at my wedding to Lady Desmera Redwyne."

"You honor me, your grace," he said, noticing how the dark grey eyes that looked his way were joined by three sets that all looked at him the exact same way.

A wolf, an eagle, a dragon, and the man that all three of those incredible beasts seemed to belong to. All of them looked at him with eyes that told Daven much. He was welcomed here and would be treated as his station demanded, but he was very much not trusted. Not yet and mayhap not ever. Should he prove himself false, then Daven knew not which of the four would end him. What he did know, what those four sets of eyes told him, however, was that his end would not be a pleasant one.

Oldtown 306 AC.

The Knight of Faith.

When his lord had called him to his chambers, Triston had no idea of what task he was about to be assigned to. To say he was then left stunned by the request made of him would be an understatement. Travel to Oldtown and judge whether or not the gods favored or cursed the man who would be king. Do so as the Leal man of faith that he was and let the gods be his guide for whatever he was to do next. Strange, though it was, Triston felt up to the task and so when Aurane Waters arrived and then set sail for Oldtown, Triston sailed with him.

What it was he expected to find there and what it was he did upon his arrival, were two completely different things. Like most of Westeros, he knew much about the man formerly known as Jon Snow. Triston knew he followed the Old Gods of the North and while that alone should give him pause, with him being a true man of the Seven, it did not. Faith was faith, and at least Jon Snow had some even if it was to Triston and most followers of the Seven's eyes, the wrong one. Triston knew the other stories about Jon Snow too. The battle against an army of dead men, the killing of a queen, though it was only recently that he and so many others had learned that he was as much a king as she had been a queen. More so in some people's eyes.

That in truth was what gave him and his lord the most pause. Cursed was the Kinslayer, everyone knew that and it mattered not what faith you followed or even if you held truly to none, that was the way of the world they lived in. Jon Snow had killed his kin, and while there were those, Triston among them, who'd name that kin in dire need of being killed, it still raised issues. What raised less for his lord, at least, was just who Jon Snow truly was. House Sunglass had always been true supporters of the House of the Dragon and Triston's own House had always followed their liege lords in that regard. So supporting a dragon was never in question. Supporting this dragon, very much still was.

"You're a good judge of character, Ser Triston. Not the character of a man's name but what lays truthfully in his heart. Mine own House goes where the dragons goes, for I swore an oath. Yet, when I face my gods, when they judge me, I'll not have them judge me for following a heathen Kinslayer." Lord Gareth said.

"And should I find him true, my lord?"

"Then where House Targaryen goes, so goes Ser Triston of Tally Hill and House Sunglass."

Those he traveled with seemed to have fewer questions for Jacaerys Targaryen. Aurane spoke of the Dragonqueen needing killing and how it was for the best if it was done at another dragon's hands. While Duram Bar Emmon seemed almost keen for the adventure to come. Instead of questions of character, it was more practical questions that each man wished answered.

How many men did the dragon have to call upon?

What was his plan to take down the Broken King and Red Queen?

How was the realm to shape up with him sitting upon the throne?

Triston simply hoped that they would get their answers while he got his own. Something that had proved far truer for them than they had for him once they'd arrived in Oldtown. Those first few days anyway.

The Reach had come out in force for the White Dragon. House Hightower most especially. Other allies were due to arrive and yet were not spoken about, not those first few days after their arrival anyway. Besides, it was not as if they didn't have other things to ponder after meeting the man who would be king. Seeing the white wolf in all its fearsome glory for one. Though even that was overshadowed by seeing the red dragon that spent most of its time either perched on Jacaerys Targaryen's shoulder or removing ravens from the sky with practiced ease.

Finding out they had arrived just in time for a wedding and then being informed that Lady Desmera Redwyne was soon to be named their queen. Even watching Jacaerys Targaryen as he sparred in the yard and proved the tales that named him the best swordsman in Westeros had all spoken naught but the truth. Then there was the arrival of those other allies that soon focussed their minds once again. Ser Daven Lannister and the men of the West, Yara Greyjoy and the Iron Fleet, and even talk that the famed Company of the Rose had left Essos and answered the White Dragon's call.

Yet still, Triston had yet to get a true read on the man himself. He was still to spend any time at all in Jacaerys Targaryen's company and was it not for Davos Seaworth and apparently, Lady Malora Hightower, then he may never have.

"His grace would have words with you, Ser Triston." the Hand of the King said as Triston broke his fast.

"With me?" he asked, surprised.

"Aye, the Lady Malora says you have some questions that only his grace can answer and so I bid you follow."

He left the food behind, half-eaten, then followed Ser Davos through the corridors of the Hightower and out through some doors until he finally arrived at a large open space that was somewhat covered. It seemed to be a private sparring yard of sorts, given the training dummies and weapons rack which both seemed to have received much use. Triston though found himself watching as Jacaerys faced off against one of his Kingsguard, Ser Humfrey, proving himself no true match for the man he guarded.

"Pick up a tourney sword, Ser Triston," Jacaerys called out and Triston moved over to the weapons rack.

His eyes roamed over the blunted swords until he found one that seemed to suit him. Picking it up, swinging it from side to side, once he was happy with its weight he moved to where Jacaerys stood. It was his first true close-up look at the man and he found little of the Targaryen look about him. Dark of hair and grey of eye, Triston could see why most named him a Stark bastard and how it had most likely saved him the fate his brother and sister shared.

"Your grace," he said with a nod.

Four times he faced him and four times Triston was beaten so soundly that he felt a green boy once more. Jacaerys wasn't just a good swordsman, he was an excellent one. Triston would wager that Jaime Lannister, Barristan the Bold, and even the legendary Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne himself would have trouble facing the man in front of him. Looking at the two swords that leaned up against the wall, both of which he knew were Valyrian steel, he could only imagine what Jacaerys would be like with one of those in his hands.

"Drink Ser," Jacaerys said, handing Triston a mug of cool water, a mug that he drained and that was refilled by the king himself once he'd done so.

Hearing a screech, Triston half expected to see a flame follow only for it to be revealed to be the golden eagle and not the red dragon that had made the sound. He looked on as the giant bird landed on a small wall and as Jacaerys moved to it. A moment later it was joined by the red dragon and for the next few moments, Triston may as well have not existed as Jacaerys spoke to both the eagle and dragon. While he couldn't hear the words themselves, the tone of them was one of true fondness and the sounds that came from the giant bird and the red dragon were ones that he'd name as happy.

"Forgive me, Ser Triston. They are children still and like most children, they require much praise when they do well." Jacaerys said, a fatherly smile on his face as the other Kingsguard, Ser Sigorn he believed he was named, brought some food for the dragon and eagle to eat.

"Indeed, your grace."

"I may overindulge in it a little with them, but then I knew so little of mine own when I grew up. Lady Catelyn was a woman of faith, the same faith you share or so I'm told."

"I had heard as much, your grace."

"She and her Septa both named me a bastard born of lust, Ser. For many years I believed it was the faith they shared that was the cause of such. Though in time it became clearer to me. My uncle's wife hated me because of who she thought I was, not because of the stain of being a bastard. While her Septa sought her lady's favor and so…."

"I knew not the Lady Catelyn nor her Septa, your grace. And while I know some men and women of faith look down on bastards simply because of their birth, I was raised to believe that all children are innocent in the eyes of the Mother. There is no passage in the Seven-Pointed Star that names bastards as evil or to be feared. Yet prejudices are prejudices, your grace."

"That they are, Ser Triston." Jacaerys said with a sigh "Your lord sent you to judge my nature, Ser Triston. To examine my character and see if you found it lacking."

Triston gulped, yet there was no anger in those dark grey eyes as they looked at him and nothing in Jacaerys' tone that named his words as such. Feeling that honesty was the best policy, especially with the cat already so out of the bag, Triston led with that.

"He did, your grace."

"Because I killed my aunt," Jacaerys said, sadly to Triston's mind.

"Cursed is the Kinslayer, your grace," Triston said and Jacaerys laughed a bitter laugh.

"Oh, I've been cursed indeed. Lied to for most of my life. Preyed upon by those who sought what was not theirs to take. Betrayed by men I named as brothers and then having no other choice but to stab the woman I loved in the heart. What curse can I face worse than that, Ser." Jacaerys asked and then he held his hand up before Triston could speak "You heard the tale of my death, no doubt?"

"I heard, your grace."

"And do you believe it a tale only or the truth?"

"I know not for certain, your grace."

"There are those who were there you could speak to. Ser Davos, Tormund. I could show you the scars I bear on my body that prove it true, yet I'll not do so. Suffice to say, I was dead and then I was not. I saw what awaits me when I fall and trust me, Ser, 'tis a true cursed place I'll go when next my heart beats no more."

Triston looked more closely at the expression on Jacaerys' face. It was one of resignation, one that he'd name as a true belief in the words he'd spoken.

"There is naught I can do to avoid that fate. Nor to change it or deny it. All I can do is make the most of my time left in this shit world and do all in my power to leave it a better one when I fall for true. It falls to me to do so. To me and my betrothed, to our children, should we be blessed with them. Just as it falls to me to fell monsters and remove tyrants. Be that by mine own hand or by the strength of my will and words."

"Your grace?"

"Your lord sent you to judge my character, Ser Triston. Then I bid you to don a white cloak and serve in my Kingsguard. Should mine own character falter, should I prove myself a monster or a tyrant, then I'd bid you to do as Jaime Lannister did. As I did. Drive a blade in my heart and take me from this world so its people suffer no more."

With that, Jacaerys walked away. The red dragon flew and landed on the king's shoulder and the golden eagle was lifted and carried in Jacaerys' arms. Two Kingsguard followed behind and before they left the covered sparring yard he'd been brought to, the white wolf moved to join them. Triston sat alone for a few more moments before he was joined once again by Ser Davos Seaworth.

"He is the best man I've ever known, Ser Triston. A man who is not too good to do the things that are needed and yet one who takes absolutely no pleasure in doing so. Jacaerys Targaryen killed the woman he loved because she'd lost herself. She would have brought death and destruction on a scale we've never seen before and so she had to die. Even though it broke his heart and he earned no reward from it, he took it upon himself to take her from this world, because that's what he does." Davos said as he placed his hand on Triston's shoulder "Don't ever doubt my king's character, Ser Triston, not you, me, or any man alive has the right to do so. Even the gods don't deserve that fucking right."

Two days later, Triston of Tally Hill swore his oaths and was named as the third member of Jacaerys Targaryen's Kingsguard. The look he was given by his king as he swore his oath was one that said the words Jacaerys had spoken in that sparring yard still stood true. Yet Triston would wager that unlike Jaime Lannister or Jacaerys himself, he'd have no need to kill a monster with a crown or remove a tyrant from the world. All his questions and doubts about the character of the man he now served had been answered. Where House Targaryen went so went House Sunglass and his own House. Where Jacaerys Targaryen went so went Triston of Tally Hill.

Dorne 306 AC.

The Coin Counter.

Tycho had been impressed with what he'd seen of Jacaerys Targaryen. The way he spoke and handled himself proved him to be a much different sort than his cousins who sat upon their respective thrones. While the alliance he'd already built up was more than enough to ensure that Westeros would once again bow to the dragons. In time, Tycho had no doubt that even more of the Great Houses would seek to strike a deal with Jacaerys rather than face him in battle. So as he neared Susnpear, Tycho readied himself to once again play his part.

Over the years the Iron Bank had many dealings with the former ruling House of Dorne. Prince Doran had struck many bargains and had always kept true to the terms that they'd agreed on. His brother Prince Oberyn had for many years held a private account with them and had even taken one or two contracts from them during his time leading the Second Sons. As difficult as it would have been for House Martell to support a son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, Tycho would have still believed that he could get them to do so. House Martell was long gone, however, and a new House and Prince ruled there now.

Moving to his satchel, Tycho took out the small journey from inside and once again began to familiarize himself with the new Prince of Dorne. Cletus Yronwood was not a man that they had much information on. His father Anders and his House itself, they did have many dealings with, and debts were owed by both. Reading through his notes, Tycho readied his pitch and once he was certain of it, then he made his way to the deck and waited for the ship to dock. It did so no more than an hour later and Tycho was happy to see that there was no escort waiting for him when he walked down the gangplank. Though he was under no doubt that his arrival had been noted and that he was being watched as he made his way through the Shadow City and to the gates of the Old Palace.

"Tycho Nestoris, here to see the prince in regards to the Iron Bank's interests," Tycho said to the guard that eventually stopped him, his own men standing ready to act should they be required to do so.

"Our prince is not in residence, Master Nestroris, he resides at the Water Gardens."

Tycho sighed, as he fancied not the idea of riding through the desert to the Water Gardens. It may only add a couple of hours to his travel, but he felt most ready for some rest and refreshments. However, work came first and so after asking for horses to be provided to them, something the guard had needed to ask the old blind Seneschal, Ricasso, before doing, Tycho and his men soon left Sunspear and rode quickly but not hard to the Water Gardens.

The ride itself took no more than an hour or so and by the time he dismounted and was greeted, Tycho was more than ready for a warm bath and some food and rest. Once again, work took precedence over his needs and the new Prince of Dorne wasted no time in granting him an audience. While his guards were given their own refreshments, Tycho was brought to one of the outside terraces and he could hear the sounds of the children playing in one of the nearby pools.

Awaiting him once he reached his destination was the new Prince of Dorne. Black of hair and bearded, at first glance one would think they were looking at a Martell, though the black portcullis sigils the guards wore and that were emblazoned on the prince's yellow robes would tell you differently. Cletus Yronwood was no more than thirty years old and yet he looked closer to forty. His dark black hair hung in front of one of his eyes while the other eye stared at Tycho with intrigue. Along with the prince, there were a number of men that Tycho tried his best to put names to.

There was a huge bald brute of a man that Tycho would name Ser Archibald Yronwood, the prince's cousin. A blond-haired comely young man with blue-green eyes who Tycho knew was Ser Gerris Drinkwater and a smaller freckled face man who he'd name Ser Willam Wells. The last of those who made up the prince's company was a master who wore white instead of a grey robe and who according to Tycho's notes was named Kedry. Tycho looked to each of them to confirm they were who he thought they were and then once he had, he then looked to the prince once more.

"Please, Master Nestoris, take a seat. Some refreshments." the prince said, politely enough and Tycho did as he was bid. Truth be told he much needed some food and something to quench his thirst.

After nibbling on some fruit and cheese and somehow resisting the urge to eat hungrily, Tycho swallowed first some cool crisp water and then accepted the wine when it was offered. Dornish Sour was a much different taste to the wine from the Arbor that he'd been treated to in Oldtown and the ale he'd been given in the North. He liked it well enough but found he missed the peach brandy that he most favored.

"What brings you to Dorne, Master Nestoris? If what Maester Kedry tells me is true then the Iron Bank and ourselves are on good terms or am I mistaken?" the prince asked.

"There are no outstanding debts as such, my prince. Though much is owed and thus far the terms of our loans have been kept to. And yet it is those loans as well as other matters that bring me here."

"Other matters, Master Nestoris?" the Maester asked curiously.

"I take it that even here in Dorne you've received word from the White Dragon?" he asked and caught how Ser Gerris and Ser William looked at each other

"We are well aware of him, yes."

"And the words he speaks? The call he makes?" he asked, looking directly at the prince when he did so.

"Concern us not and is not something we would answer."

"Mayhap you should consider doing so, my prince."

Tycho saw how quickly Prince Cletus sat up in his seat and was surprised that the young man calmed himself almost immediately. He watched as the young prince relaxed his posture and looked to the Maester who then spoke words that Tycho had no doubt were already agreed on.

"Dorne will never support a son of Rhaegar Targaryen and the whore that he shamed our princess with. House Martell may no longer exist but their shame was the shame of every Dornish man and woman and so it is something we still carry within us. While we have no desire to raise arms against this bastard dragon and we care not for the Broken Wolf that sits on the Throne." Maester Kedry spat and Tycho almost smirked at the man not naming Bran Stark as a king "We will not kneel or bow to him either."

"Yet you knelt and bowed to the Broken King all the same," Tycho said to angered looks, Ser Gerris looked about ready to speak words of treason he'd wager and mayhap would have done so had Ser Willam not placed a hand on his arm.

"We accepted that the Broken King held the city and that some in Westeros may choose to bow and kneel to him, Dorne and its prince did neither, Master Nestoris. I simply traveled and left, leaving them to make up their own mind as to my intent." Prince Cletus said.

"You intend to see Dorne as an independent country once more, my prince. We at the Iron Bank are well aware of your intent and I am here to dissuade you from it."

"What cares the Iron Bank about what Dorne does or does not do as long as it gets its due?"

"Because it's not only Dorne we get our due from, my prince. Jacaerys Targaryen has the Iron Bank's support as King of the Seven Kingdoms. Seven, my prince, not six or five, seven. Dorne may not rise for him, we'll not demand that of you, what we will demand is that you name him your king and play your part fully and truly in the realm once more."

"You dare make demands of our prince." the big bald, Ser Archibald, said angrily.

"We are the Iron Bank, Ser, we dare because we can," he replied.

"And should I refuse and decide to send your head back to your employers?" Prince Cletus asked.

"Then you shall sit uncomfortably in your seat for the rest of your very short life, my prince. I am merely the messenger, live or die, the message remains the same. Name Jacaerys Targaryen as your king and earn the Iron Bank's favor, do not and earn its displeasure. All debts will be called to account, all trade with Essos suspended and failure to comply will lead to dire consequences."

"Another threat." Prince Cletus said dismissively.

"The Iron Bank doesn't make threats, my prince. We just carry out policy."

He was dismissed while his words and offer were digested. Given rooms and finally able to have the warm bath that he wished for. That night he ate well and was treated as a valued guest and when he woke the next morning, he found himself once again face to face with the Prince of Dorne.

"I like not your demand, Master Nestoris, and there are those in my company who will me to take your head and damn the consequences."

"A foolish idea, my prince."

"Indeed." Prince Cletus said as he drummed his fingers against his tall chair "Dorne will not fight on either side of the war to come and should your puppet dragon win, then we'll name him our king and play our full part in the running of the realm."

"A wise choice, my prince," Tycho said, not correcting him in naming Jacaerys a puppet, though he very much was not one.

"You truly believe he'll garner the support to bring down the Broken Wolf?" Prince Cletus asked, once again not naming Bran Stark as a king.

"I think that had you not accepted my offer then you'd find Jacaerys was not Aegon but Daeron come again and that once again Dorne would find itself conquered. This time I've no doubt it would stay so. Jacaerys Targaryen is not a man you wish to make an enemy of, my prince. Not even death could stop him, what chance have men of doing so?"

The look on the prince's face was enough to tell Tycho his words were listened to. So within an hour of speaking to the prince, two ravens were sent to Oldtown. One from Prince Cletus swearing fealty but offering no men and the other from Tycho naming the words as true. Two hours later, Tycho once again boarded a ship, this time heading east and back to the Iron Bank. He had much to tell them about the man they'd thrown their support behind and he knew that there was still much work to do.

Oldtown 306 AC.

Yara Greyjoy.

She led the largest fleet the Iron Islands had known since her uncle's own. Close to one hundred ships in total and though most of them anchored away from Oldtown, Yara still sailed into the bay with seven longships. Briefly, she found herself seeing images of taking this city, of making it hers and restoring the days when the Iron Born were feared by one and all. The image left her mind quickly enough as had other imaginings of doing the same to cities in the North, the Vale, and much further south. In truth, if she ever decided to let loose the Iron Fleet for true then it would be only one city and one target that she'd aim for.

Bran Stark, the Broken King and the man who Theon had died protecting was who she truly felt wrath and rage when thinking about. Though there was enough of that left for the man she was soon to meet too. By the time they reached the docks, Yara was left in no doubt that her arrival was not only expected, but they'd been waiting for it. Close to five hundred men at arms awaited her and her men and they outnumbered those she had with her by two to one. Looking to her crew and to Tristofer Botley, she smiled a wicked smile and then bid them play nice. Now was not the time to show her true feelings for Jon Snow and here was certainly not the place. So Yara, Tristofer, and five of her men were all that disembarked and they were soon face to face with the white-cloaked leader of those who awaited them.

"Lady Greyjoy, I'm to escort you and an honor guard of your choosing to the Hightower. The rest of you men can stay on your ships or are welcome to enjoy the delights that Oldtown has to offer. Should any of them act untoward then not even sailing under the flag of truce his grace has offered you will be enough to change their fates." the tall handsome white cloaked knight said forcefully.

"My men will most welcome some time ashore, Ser?"

"Ser Humfrey Hightower."

"Ser Humfrey. And they'll behave themselves while here. Lead the way and take me to your king." she said mockingly and found her words angered the man a little.

'Good' she thought to herself as they walked from the docks and through the city's winding alleys and wynds. Some things became very clear to her as they neared the Hightower. There were far too many men at arms in this city for even the entirety of the Iron Fleet to take on and there was some sort of event or celebration going on that had the Small Folk in good cheer. As they walked, Yara took a closer look at the white-cloaked and silent knight that led the way. He was young and handsome and while he bore a white cloak it was mainly his armor that Yara looked at and which truly named him for who he was.

Embossed on his breastplate was a large sigil of the Hightower. Next to it were a red dragon and a white wolf both of whom looked menacing. The white wolf she understood somewhat, Jon Snow was known to have one from what she remembered Theon saying about him. What significance the red dragon held, she knew not. Her queen had always used the three-headed dragon symbol as her own. Was Jon Snow naming himself as the last dragon or was there some other reason that as of yet escaped her? It mattered not, she saw him not as a dragon anyway. To Yara, he was and would always be a wolf and the wolves had much to answer for to her mind.

"A brother and a Queen," she muttered under her breath.

When they arrived at the Hightower, Yara expected to be searched and to have her weapons removed, only to find that either the security was much laxer than she expected or that she was not considered a threat. The latter of those things bothered her far more than she let on. They were made to wait outside a large set of double doors while Ser Humfrey entered alone and though the wait was a short one, she was still irritated by the time the knight returned.

"His Grace wishes you to present yourself to the court, my lady. He'll then speak to you in private later."

"Does he expect me to kiss his arse too?" she asked angrily.

"If he does, then I look forward to seeing you pucker up." Ser Humfrey retorted and despite herself, Yara chuckled and was still doing so as they entered the Great Hall.

As she expected, the Great Hall was full of Lords, Ladies, and Knights as well as men at arms. Yara still believed, however, that if she wished to see Jon Snow fall here today, then she and those with her could bring about his death. She believed that right up to the moment she saw him. After taking note that it seemed to be Reachmen, Men of the West, and what looked to be the Lords of the Narrow Sea, who mainly made up those present, Yara got her first true look at Jon Snow.

Dark of hair and grey of eye, wearing black and red and staring at her and her men with an intensity that made even Yara waver a little, Jon Snow or Jacaerys Targaryen cut an imposing figure. One that was only enhanced by the giant golden eagle that rested atop the chair he sat upon and the monstrous white wolf that even though it lay flat on the ground beside the seat, could still easily reach the top of it. Despite those two fantastical beasts, it was the third of the three that surrounded Jon Snow that Yara and those with her were awed by.

"That's a fooking dragon." Tristofer Botley said and yet all Yara could see was just how the red dragon wrapped itself around Jon Snow's shoulder and how its purple eyes looked at her in warning and threat.

"Lady Greyjoy, welcome to Oldtown." Jon Snow said, his voice bearing a hint of humor in it as he spoke.

"It's good to be welcomed so, your grace," Yara said and the mockery she'd considered greeting him with now was not something she now felt was worth the risk.

Three hours later.

A few brief pleasantries. That was the extent of her time spent with Jon Snow as of yet. They'd been given rooms that she doubted any Iron Born had ever been offered and had not paid the Iron Price for. Allowed to bathe if she wished it, which she took full advantage of. Warm scented water and good expensive soap beat washing in the cold sea after all. Yara had overheard that they'd arrived on the eve of a wedding and that there was to be a large feast that night and of course, on the morrow too.

Jon Snow was to marry Desmera Redwyne and that sent a small shudder down her spine. While she'd match her men and ships against anyone, the Arbor Fleet dwarfed her own. It put her at a disadvantage when it came to any thoughts she had of taking on Jon Snow directly. One she'd not counted for and truly hadn't even considered. Yara was contemplating on this and other things while enjoying the fine wine that the Arbor produced when Ser Humfrey arrived and bid her to follow him once again.

"Where?"

"His grace is ready to speak to you. You alone, Lady Greyjoy." Ser Humfrey said as Tristofer rose to join her, Yara's wave of her hand was more than enough to get the Botley heir to retake his seat.

Upon reaching a set of rooms where a knight wearing a white cloak awaited, Yara once again expected to be searched only to find she was not. After a knock on the door, they were bid to enter and she found to her surprise the room was empty.

"His grace awaits you on the balcony, my lady." Ser Humfrey said.

Annoyed that she was considered so little of a threat, Yara decided to poke at the knight a little, eager to see how he'd respond.

"You don't worry I may be here to kill the Queenslayer you serve?" she challenged.

"I'll not mourn your passing should you try, my lady. Nor would I wish such a death on even a man that I misliked."

The half smirk that Ser Humfrey bore when he left her alone had irked her. So much so that it was with angry steps that she made her way to the balcony and walked out onto it. Steps that had been heard and watched all the way she was soon to find out. The golden eagle, white wolf, and red dragon all now looked at her and almost dared her to make a move. Meanwhile, the man she'd come to speak to looked instead elsewhere. His eyes were on something in the distance that Yara knew not.

"I'll give you one chance, Lady Greyjoy. One chance to remove one of your suckling babes and try your luck on a man that not even death wishes to keep for its own. My eagle, wolf, and dragon will all stand down and I'll remain here as I stand, with my back to you. Care to try your luck?" Jon Snow said without turning to face her.

She almost did it, her hand even began to reach for one of her throwing axes and she believed there was no way that he could dodge or avoid it should she do so. Something kept her from doing so, however. A second sense and feeling that while her fingers would make it to the axe's handle, that's as far as they'd make it. It discomfited her greatly and made her more than a little fearful of the man in front of her if she was honest with herself.

"I came not to kill you, Jon Snow."

"Jon Snow is dead, Lady Greyjoy. Those who named themselves as his family and friends dined upon his corpse many moons ago." Jon Snow said. No, Jacaerys Targaryen did, for that's who it was that turned and faced her.

The expression on his face, the fire behind those dark grey eyes, Yara knew then it was a dragon and not a wolf that she now spoke and dealt with.

"Now, let's talk about how together we're going to make them pay for doing so."

Later that night, she watched as a different man from the dragon she'd met earlier as he now danced with the woman who was to be his wife and queen. Yara had seen the true face of Jacaerys Targaryen as they spoke on that balcony and it made her relieved that he saw her not as an enemy. Whether or not she no longer saw him as one, she was not yet certain. For now, he was the enemy of her enemy and that made him her friend. For now at least.

Oldtown 306 AC.

The Azure Lady.

Today was the day she was to be wed. A day she had both longed for and dreaded with equal measure for so many years. Desmera had always expected her wedding day to be one fraught with nerves, worries, and doubts. Yet for some reason, today she felt few if any of those things. In truth, she felt almost excited and certainly eager to be a wedded woman. Less so to be a queen if she let her mind ponder on that too much. To be a wife though, to be Jacaerys' wife, filled her with something she couldn't quite explain.

Part of that was no doubt the man himself. Her husband-to-be was handsome, no doubt. He was honest to a fault too and hadn't tried to sway her with pretty words and promises that he may not be able to keep, 'not that she'd not have welcomed some pretty words' she thought as she looked at herself in the looking glass. Jacaerys though had spoken to her like an equal and laid out the truth of what he had or feared he may not have in his heart. He'd given her the choice and that truly was what she'd always wished for.

Taking one more look at herself and then breathing deeply, Desmera moved away from the looking glass and walked to where her mother awaited.

"My sweet girl, you look an absolute vision. A gift from the very Maiden herself." her mother said, wiping the joyful tears that fell as she spoke to her.

"Thank you, mother, I…"

"Sweetling?" her mother asked concernedly.

"I wish father was here."

"Oh, my dear child." her mother said as she hugged her and held her tightly, Desmera returning the hug just as truly "Your father is no doubt looking down upon his beautiful daughter and he too is weeping the tears of joy that your mother can't seem to stop."

"Thank you, mother, for all you've done to help me prepare. Without you, I'd have been lost."

"You'll never be without me, child. Even when I finally go and join your father, I'll be with you still. Just as he too is here today."

Desmera took comfort in that. As she did in the fact that her mother no longer asked her the questions that she had these past few days. Questions about what it was that lay in her heart and how she truly felt about the marriage and the man she was marrying. Her mother had no doubts that Jacaerys was a good man who'd treat her fairly. To Desmera's delight and slight concern, Jacaerys had agreed to speak to her mother in private, and though neither of them had told her what words they'd shared. After they'd talked, the questions had stopped. She took that as a good sign.

Hearing the knock at the door, Desmera looked at her mother and nodded. Then she was left alone for but a moment before Lord Leyton Hightower arrived to stand in for her father and lead her to the carriage that would take her to the Starry Sept.

"An absolute wonder, my dear. Not since my dear Lynesse have I ever seen a bride so beautiful." Lord Leyton said and Desmera offered him one of her practiced smiles. As while she believed he spoke from the heart, it was not his lips she wished to hear such words from.

Offering her arm which he took gallantly, Desmera, Lord Leyton, and her mother walked from her chambers for the last time. When she retired to her bed that night it would be to Jacaerys' chambers that Desmera would go and after her new husband left to go and once again fight in a battle, those chambers would be her own until he returned. Stiffening slightly at the worry that he may not return, Desmera smiled and shook her head when Lord Leyton looked at her with concern. Soon enough she was helped into the carriage and though the ride to the Starry Sept was done in silence, it was a most comfortable one.

As she was then helped from the carriage, Desmera looked on stunned at just how many people surrounded the Starry Sept. Though given that this was the first marriage of a Targaryen to be held there since Prince Maegor wed Ceryse Hightower and the first ever of a King, that really shouldn't have surprised her. Waving to the crowd, Desmera heard their loud cheers and saw the look of pride and acknowledgment on Lord Leyton's face. Whether or not he believed she was the best match that Jacaerys could make or had some other lady in mind, Desmera knew not. However, he'd not find her lacking in the protocols and propriety that a queen needed to be aware of.

When they reached the large double doors, her mother kissed her softly on the cheek and hurried inside. Desmera felt a little of the nerves she'd thus far avoided begin to build, only for Lord Leyton to move her to and through the doors before they could really take hold. The sight that presented itself once she entered the Starry Sept, was almost enough to make her legs wobble a little. On either side of the aisle, the great and good of the Reach and the first set of those who'd come to swear to Jacaerys, all now sat. Each of them looked at Desmera with varying different expressions on their faces. Some she knew would think her unsuited or wish it was their daughters or themselves in her place. Others it seemed had found her to be the best of all choices. Soon though it was neither them nor what they may or may not think that Desmera found herself contemplating.

The sight of him caused her breath to still in her mouth. Jacaerys was dressed fully as the Targaryen king he was. His red and black outfit showed him as even more like a dragon than anything she'd seen him wear thus far. Atop his head, he wore a crown that seemed to sparkle from some unseen light source. Beside him, the white wolf, golden eagle, and red dragon all looked her way. Yet more than any of that, it was the look on Jacaerys' face that had caused her breath to still. No man had ever looked at her that way before and it made Desmera even more confident that the words she'd spoken to him when he'd proposed were as true as she'd believed them to be.

"My lady?" Lord Leyton said and Desmera realized she'd been standing still and so she moved quickly to show it was not reluctance that had made her do so.

Then almost in the blink of an eye, her maiden cloak was removed and she was clad now in one bearing Jacaerys' own sigil. The red dragon and white wolf both acted as the protectors that their physical counterparts did for her husband and would in the days to come for her too. Rising to her feet when bid to, Desmera turned to face Jacaerys and once again found herself awed a little by his expression. Though she'd dare not name it as love, she would name it as wonder and certainly desire and that was more than enough for now.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," she said as the High Septon, the Lucky One as most named him, spoke words that Desmera heard not.

Instead, she'd looked directly into Jacaerys' dark grey eyes and saw the strength of his conviction as he spoke the same words as her. Then once the High Septon had named them man and wife, the world seemed to still completely. Around her, the air felt charged as if by some unseen force and Desmera's eyes moved briefly from Jacaerys own to his lips and then back again. It felt like an age until those lips touched her own and then they were kissing for true. There was no hesitancy between either of them and she saw the reluctance in Jacaerys' eyes when they broke away from each other. To her delight, even that was but a brief thing as a moment later, her husband kissed her again.

"What the Seven have joined together let no man dare to try to part. My lords and ladies, good sers. I give you King Jacaerys and Queen Desmera, Long May the Reign." The Lucky One said loudly.

"Long may the Reign."

Desmera gasped as she was lifted in the air and cradled in Jacaerys' arms. Her eyes were only on his as he carried her out of the Starry Sept and to the awaiting carriage. Whether or not there were cheers from the crowd as they passed them, Desmera heard them not. Syrax and Aegerax had taken to the sky and Ghost ran alongside the carriage. While inside it, Desmera found herself sharing more than one kiss with her new husband. By the time they reached the Hightower, she was smiling brightly as too was Jacaerys.

"I can walk." she japed when he went to lift her from the carriage and she much enjoyed the sound of his chuckle as well as the shake of Jacaerys' head when he listened to her not and carried her into the Great Hall and to their seats.

"A husband's task is to bear his wife's burdens as if they were his own, wife. " Jacaerys said and Desmera had to admit that hearing him name her so sent a thrill to her stomach.

The feast was one she truly enjoyed. Jacaerys was most attentive and they danced together more than once. He danced with no other lady either, something that she was most grateful for. While he spoke to any who spoke to him, not once did he initiate a conversation other than with her. As the night went on, she worried about the bedding and so leaned closer to her husband to ask him about it. Jacaerys' words that he'd not have her face such a thing lest she wished it so, were ones that were very much appreciated. As too was his denial to those who called for it, after she'd told him she would prefer him to be the only man to undress her or see her naked.

She was carried to their chambers and unlike from the Starry Sept and into the Hightower, the journey was one that was intermixed with small kisses to her cheek, lips, and even her ears, much to her delight. What words her husband spoke to the Kingsguard, Desmera knew not. Though him shooing both Syrax and Aegerax away from their bed she heard most clearly once they'd entered the room.

"It seems your bed companions don't wish to give you up, husband. This bodes well for your wife," she said wickedly, enjoying the small flare of Jacaerys' nostrils as he moved closer to her.

"They'll need to get used to it, won't they, wife," Jacaerys said, kissing her softly, before then moving from her and seeming to steady himself.

"Jace?" she asked, wondering if she'd done something wrong.

"I..what we're to do, I would not want it to be something you didn't wish for, Desmera. Though it's what we both must do, I'd not wish you to have it forced upon you. So if you require more time I…."

Desmera moved to him and placed a finger on his lips to stop her husband from speaking any more words. Words of that sort at least. As she would quite like to hear what words of passion could come from those sweet lips of his.

"It's not just duty that makes me wish to, Jace." she said softly "I believe if I'm ever to find pleasure in my marriage bed then I've got a better chance of doing so with a good man such as I believe you to be than with anyone else. I want this, Jace. I would hope you would want it too."

"It's not just duty for me either, Desmera," Jacaerys said as he moved to take her in his arms and the kiss he gave her then was more than proof of that. As was the hardness she felt brushing up against her.

*Lemon Begins*

As nervous as she felt, Desmera didn't move away from her husband when he began to undress her. That Jace did so with slowness and care that she'd not expected was only partly the reason for that. Desmera had half expected that her dress would be ripped from her body and yet she knew deep down that it was more fear of being intimate with someone rather than something her husband would do. Jace looked at her all the while and every so often he'd place a soft kiss on her lips before returning to the task at hand.

Once he'd removed her dress, Desmera looked on as Jace then placed it carefully on one of the nearby chairs. No sooner had he done so, than he took her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Using one hand to move back the covers, Jace gently placed her down on the bed and allowed her to both cover herself should she wish and to remove her own small clothes when she was ready to do so. Then, moving away from the bed so that she could see every inch of him, her husband began to remove his own clothing.

Desmera felt the flush come to her chest as well as the tingle in her stomach when after removing his coat and shirt, Jace then slowly undid the tie of his britches and let them fall to the floor. Having seen his chest somewhat already, it was to his legs and most especially to what was between them that Desmera turned her eyes. For what felt like an age, Jace stood there only in his own small clothes and then when his eyes met hers, he took them off slowly.

"Oh my," she said huskily as his manhood was finally revealed to her.

To her eyes, it looked far too large to go where she knew it must and she'd not lie and say it didn't frighten her some. Something that Jace noticed in her expression as he moved to the bed.

"We can go as slow as you wish, Desmera. If I hurt you then speak the words and I'll stop." Jace said as he climbed into the bed beside her, Desmera simply nodded as she hurriedly removed her last remaining pieces of clothing.

She lay there in the bed on her back, shaking somewhat and unable to turn and look at her husband beside her. Jace didn't move or push her to start anything, in fact, the only touches she felt from his warm hands were to her face, and cheek or brushing through her fiery red hair. When he turned her head to face his own, Desmera was greeted with an expression that showed his concern for her and it relaxed her somewhat. As did the soft kisses that he then began to lay upon her cheek, lips, and neck. Kisses that she was soon returning eagerly.

"Jace I…"

"Relax, we have as much time as you wish," Jace said, kissing her once again.

Desmera trembled when she felt his hard length brush against her as Jace moved closer to her. Then with her eyes wide open and following its every move, she looked on as one of his hands moved from her neck to her chest and towards her breast. Many years earlier her mother had spoken to her of what was expected of a woman in the marriage bed. She'd been given a book by Margaery too when she'd spoken to her cousin about such things. None of that prepared her for the feelings that she was beginning to feel course through her.

Ever so gently, Jace had brushed his finger over her erect pink nipple and it had sent a jolt right through her. He'd caressed her breast with his thumb, again and again, repeating what his finger had just done. Then to her complete and utter shock, Jace began to kiss her neck, shoulder, and chest. Each kiss moved his mouth ever closer to her breast and the nipple that she both begged his lips to touch and wished they would not in almost equal measure. When he did place a kiss there and she felt his lips begin to suck on her nipple, Desmera let out her first true moan of the night. It was not to be the last one.

"Oh gods," she said huskily.

With one hand on her other breast and with the finger of that hand trying to mimic the actions of his mouth and lips which feasted on the other, Jace made her feel things that she had never dared to think of. She felt that tingle in her stomach grow even more and between her legs, an almost itch had started to almost demand attention. Feeling Jace move his mouth to her other breast where he lavished it and her nipple with the same attention he'd done to its sister, Desmera looked down to see that his fingers were again not idle. This time, however, they were moving down her body slowly and she held her breath as their destination became clear.

"Jace…Please…"

She knew not what it was she was begging him to do and after shaking her head when he asked her if he should stop, Desmera felt his hand touch her thigh and her legs begin to part of their own accord. The first touch of his fingers between her legs had her crying out his name loudly. Soft, seemingly everywhere at once, those fingers stroked and rubbed around her most sacred of places and never once sought to enter.

"Oh, Gods. OH, GODS!"

Her lower lips were parted and one finger moved up and down as if it sought something that only it knew about. The loud moan and how she raised her lower body from the bed were enough to tell both Desmera and her husband that it had found it. Laying with her eyes closed and surrendering herself to the pleasure that finger and Jace's lips on her breast were bringing her, Desmera missed the moment when her husband began to kiss down her body. She didn't open her eyes and even notice that her breast was no longer the center of Jace's attention until he was already past her navel and laying between her legs.

"Jace?" she asked confused as to why he'd moved there and embarrassed too by what he may be looking at.

"Trust me," Jace said and Desmera nodded, before then throwing her head back and calling out to the gods once more.

She had never imagined anything could feel so pleasurable as her husband's tongue as he drank from her very core. Every sweep of that tongue, every lick, and every small little bite that was done so gently that it was in truth little more than a kiss, all sent wave after wave of pleasure through her. Her breathing had grown so erratic that Desmera felt on the verge of passing out and yet Jace continued his assault. Then she felt it build and as she thrashed about on the bed, Jace's hands stopped her from rising and running away.

"I….I….."

It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. The fall when it came left her breathless. Her whole body shivered and shook and Jace speaking softly to her was the only evidence that it had gone on for long enough for him to move from between her legs to where he now lay his head. When he asked her if she was well, she nodded. As he kissed her, she tasted what could only be herself on his lips and she found she was not repulsed by her taste or by the act itself.

"I've…how….I…"

Jace kissed her more and as he moved to take her in his arms, she felt his manhood once again. Moving her hand, she sought out his hard member and when she felt it brush against her fingers she almost pulled her hand away. Instead, finding courage that she knew not she had, her fingers wrapped themselves around her husband's hard cock and Desmera felt that this was how a dragon's flames must feel so hot did it feel in her hand.

"I...I'm not hurting you am I?" she asked, worried that she was gripping too hard.

"Far from it," Jace said, reassuringly.

"I don't know what it is I'm to do…."

Another kiss, this one far more deep and passionate than the soft ones they'd shared thus far, was followed by Jace's hand covering her own. She felt it when he moved her hand up and down his cock and then when his hand moved away, her own continued to do as it had been shown. All the while, Desmera looked at her husband's face and his expression. Watching as the fire beneath those dark grey eyes was brought to the surface as she inflamed his passions.

"You must stop…" Jace said. The effort to speak was clearly taking a toll on him given how shakily he spoke the words.

"I…did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. What you did was very right…but you'll cause me to lose myself and…."

"Oh," she said, surprised by how prideful her tone was.

They lay there for a few moments, sharing kisses and brief touches. Jace moved his hand between her legs once more and she felt his fingers again, while she moved her own back to his cock and brushed against it softly. When he asked her if she felt ready, she nodded nervously. How he moved between her legs and on top of her without crushing her under his weight, she knew not. She barely felt him and looked to see he was holding himself above her with his arms fully extended. As she saw one of those arms move, Desmera braced herself and then she felt him at her entrance. Again it felt too big and she worried it wouldn't fit.

"Relax, we'll go slow," Jace said.

Closing her eyes, Desmera felt it when Jace rubbed the top of his cock against her wet lips. Up and down, over and over, and as with his finger earlier, not once did he try to push inside. The feelings she'd felt earlier had begun to grow once more and that pleasure once again began to build inside of her. Looking up at Jace, she nodded that she was ready and then bit her lip as she felt him push inside. He did so ever so slowly. Moving and then stopping to allow her to get used to being filled and then once she had nodded that she could continue, Jace moved forward and filled her even more.

There was less pain than she had feared. More some discomfort than anything. Even when he began to move and push more firmly inside of her, Desmera felt more than able to bear it. What was much harder to bear was the feelings she soon began to feel. The pleasure threatened to overwhelm her and as Jace began to thrust and move faster still, Desmera called out his name and begged him to continue. The fall when it came this time was even more euphoric than the last. Feeling her husband's seed when it spilled inside of her, Desmera felt the books and talks hadn't done the act justice. She felt the thoughts of doing such things again to be wanton and wicked and yet she cared not. For she very much looked forward to sharing a bed with her husband in the future if this was to be an example of what it would feel like.

"I didn't hurt you?" Jace asked and Desmera shook her head.

"No, no, you did not." she said happily before her nervousness returned "I…it was good for you?"

"It was. Truly it was." Jace said before kissing her and then asking her the same, her own answer much like his.

To her horror, the book however had been right about one thing. There was a mess after the first time. Her thighs were streaked with small amounts of blood and the sheets beneath them seemed to have had even more spilled upon them. Looking at Jace and begging with her eyes for him to tell her that this was truly all right, Desmera was almost overwhelmed when he instead once again asked her if he had hurt her and if she was well. After telling him that she was, Desmera made her way to the privy to clear herself up and by the time she returned it was to find the sheets and covers had been changed.

*Lemon Ends.*

Climbing back into her bed, she was soon wrapped up in her husband's arms, and sleep when it came to her was most welcomed. Her dreams that night were of children and dragons. Of a husband who told her he loved her, and of a life that she prayed was to be theirs.

Less than a week she had with her husband sharing her bed. One week before Jace then set off to fight another battle in the War to take the Seven Kingdoms. The day after their wedding night she'd felt some of the pain and discomfort she'd not during the night itself. So much so that she had needed to speak to the Maester and she and Jace had refrained from laying together that night. They'd very much not the next night or even the morning afterward. For the entire week, they'd explored each other quite thoroughly and Desmera had found she truly enjoyed some of the little things she'd discovered about her husband's likes and dislikes as well as her own.

Then all too soon it was time for them to part and her worries and fears threatened to steal the composure she needed to portray. She was queen to a king, not just a wife to a husband. While alone or with a family she could be more one than the other, to everyone else she knew it was only the queen they saw. So she fought down her fears and did all she could to strengthen her resolve. Desmera kept her tears from telling until she was alone and she begged but one promise from her husband.

"Return to me."

"I will, I promise."

It was a promise that she prayed to the gods to let Jace keep.

The Reach/Stormlands 306 AC.

Jacaerys Targaryen.

It had felt different laying with Desmera. So much so that at first Jace had put it down to the fact that they'd wed and she was now his wife. Later, the more he thought about it the more sure he was that their being married was only partly the reason. The true reason was that he'd held back a little at the beginning of their coupling. That unlike with Ygritte and with Dany, he was the one who was experienced and so that combined with the thought that he'd never expected to lay with another woman again had made him hold back. Again though, those were only partly the reasons. The true reason was that he had been scared to feel how in the end he had begun to feel about his new wife.

The truth of that had come to him as they'd said their goodbyes. Jace had been finally forced to truly confront the fears that he believed may have turned his heart to ice and which he'd talked to Desmera about. How the worry about losing another woman he loved was something he wasn't sure he could face or live with. So when Desmera had asked him to promise to return, he'd done so with all that he was before he then begged the gods for them to allow her to be there to return to. A prayer that Lady Malora told him was certain to be answered.

"The gods have brought you here for a reason, my prince. They brought you and your wife together for a reason. I doubt that reason is so they can part you once more."

"I've been their plaything for all my life, Lady Malora, why should I believe they'll stop using me how they wish now?"

"I never said they'd stop using you, my prince. However, I believe with all I am that in this I'll be proved right. You've seen your children have you not?"

"I've dreamt of them."

"Some dreams come true, my prince. This one I believe is to be one of them."

He hoped she was right, else he'd be a broken man once more. Jace may not love Desmera how he'd loved Dany, not yet at least, but she had taken up a place in his heart and she did make him feel as if the world wasn't as horrible as he knew it could be. He'd even started to smile and jape more according to those with him. Tormund even went so far as to ask more than once where in the world his Little Crow had gone. With Sers Humfrey and Sigorn and even with Ser Triston, he spoke to them more as friends than Kingsguard and had even shared a laugh or two with Daven Lannister. The Bearded Lion had shown himself to be both the same and different as the only other two Lannisters that Jace had known.

They had left Oldtown behind almost three weeks ago and had traveled using roads and trails rather than the Kingsroad. Jace had expected the going to be hard and yet it would cut their traveling time in half only to find it was much easier than he'd feared. At the head of an army that was close to 20,000 strong and with another 10,000 men some distance behind them in reserve, he truly felt like the king he was desperately trying to be. Other than against the dead, he'd not had these numbers to call upon and the amusing thing, to him anyway, was that he could probably double them if he counted the Iron Born and the other Houses who'd declared for him. It was a sobering thought which was not helped by Mathis Rowan remarking that his father had fewer men with him on the Trident when he went face to face with a different Stag.

Jace didn't wish to face a Stag, however. He knew not if his father had marched reluctantly or not to face Robert Baratheon, but Jace did so as he marched to face his son. Yet he'd do as he must and as he had promised. Gendry had been given the chance to join him and name him as his king, but he'd refused. It would cost the young former blacksmith dearly.

Readying for the day ahead and after a quick morning spar against each of his Kingsguard, Jace mounted his black stallion, Winter, and with a wave of his hand, the march began anew. They were less than a week from Summerhall and the Company of the Rose awaited him there. Yet it was the ghosts of his family's past that Jace's mind turned to more often than not. His House had come so close to ending there, more of them lost in one day than at any other time in their history. As it always seemed to be, only death can pay for life and amidst all that death his father had been born. For that reason alone Jace felt he should at least see that cursed place at least once in his life. What he'd find there or what he'd feel once he arrived, well that was in the hands of the gods.

"Cheer up, King Crow, we're only marching to war," Tormund said with a loud laugh, taking Jace from thoughts both dark and not.

"Aye, and you had better behave yourself when it starts," he said to a confused look from Tormund and smirks from Sigorn, Val, Davos, and Lady Malora.

"It's a war, me killing fuckers is me behaving meself," Tormund said as he glared at him.

"Aye, I know. Which is why there'll be none of that Black Tar Rum for you on the eve of battle," he said to even bigger smirks from some and a much more worried look from Tormund.

"You'd send me to fight sober?" Tormund asked aghast.

"By the gods could you imagine it." Jace said to laughs "I doubt the world is ready for that."

"Thank fuck for that," Tormund said relieved before muttering under his breath that he preferred him when he was a dour miserable sod. Then riding off to no doubt seek out some of that very same rum that he'd become far too fond of.

"You shouldn't mess with him like that, King Crow," Val said, only half seriously.

"The big fucker needs to be messed with from time to time."

"Aye, you have the right of it, your grace," Sigorn said, still chuckling at Tormund being the butt of japes for once.

Their march continued in that vein for some time. Sigorn changed out with Ser Triston while Ser Humfrey rode with the men of the Reach to judge their moods. Ser Daven rode with his own men of the West and at the front of the line, Jace, Davos, and Lady Malora were joined through the day by some lord or knight that Jace sent one of his Kingsguard to fetch.

In Winterfell, his uncle had often sat with a different man each night. A member of his Household, a man from Wintertown, or a visiting Lord, it mattered not. Ned Stark wished to know as much about the men under him as he could and Jace had taken that lesson to heart. When he was Lord Commander, he'd tried to do the same thing with little success. As King in the North and even before that as the commander of the army that had marched to Winterfell, he'd managed it far better. During his time with Dany, he'd been piss-poor at doing so. At the end that cost him greatly.

Now he did all he could to speak to and look into the eyes of those who rode with him or named him their king. To judge those he was allied with so that even without Lady Malora's help, Jace would somewhat know their minds. In Oldtown, before and after his wedding he'd done so with Ser Daven, Lord Waters, and most especially Yara Greyjoy. Though in truth he'd always somewhat known what her intent would eventually be and so he'd set her to a different task than the one she may have expected. A task that she and her Reavers were far better suited to than waging a war on land.

"All of you may or may not know each other, it truly matters not. You've all come to my side regardless and so any animosities you may have with each other, are for now forgotten." Jace said as they gathered around the large map that Lord Leyton had gotten made for him.

"You expect us to ally with Reavers, Your Grace?" Ser Daven said, the curl of his lip enough to show his displeasure.

"As I expect the Lords of the Narrow Sea and Lords of the Reach to ally with Lions, Ser Daven. For while you may not be from Tywin Lannsiter's line, there is no doubt that is what you are. Be thankful that Lord Hightower and my good lady wife blame you not for the actions your kin took against their own. Or that I, Lord Waters, Lord Bar Emmon, and others don't blame you for the actions of the man you named you liege and who was related to you by blood for what was done to a babe in the cradle, a girl of three Namedays and their mother. My sister and brother."

"That was the Mountain, your grace. I played no part in such fell deeds."

"Nor did Lady Greyjoy in whatever you would blame her for, Ser Daven. We are sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, nieces, nephews, and cousins of men who did terrible things. Yet we are not those men. Let us remember that when we look at each other."

His words were at least listened to and so Jace began to lay down his plans.

"We march to Summerhall to join with the Company of the Rose who await us there. From there it's into the Storm and we shall not leave until it and its recalcitrant lords and Lord Paramount are brought to heel." Jace began "Ser Daven, Lord Waters, and Lord Rowan I name you all as my seconds in this endeavor."

"What of me, your grace." Yara Greyjoy asked pointedly.

"Your task is much different to our own and more to your strengths, Lady Greyjoy. I wish to set you to Reave the Narrow Sea. From Gulltown to King's Landing, any ship that sails will pay a toll of which you'll keep half. Starve the cities but don't destroy the food, I'll have need of that later."

"You mean to starve the people, your grace?" Davos asked, concernedly.

"For a time, Lord Hand. I mean to let the people know that the Broken King and his Kinslaying Hand care only about themselves and I've no doubt that this will show that," he said, looking at Lady Malora.

"For what benefit, your grace?" Lord Waters asked.

"Win the people and you win the throne, Lord Waters. As much as some may discount what the Small Folk may think or care about, they are fools to do so. How long will the city back a Broken King when he is the reason they can't fill their bellies?"

"Will not some blame you, your grace?" Lord Rowan asked.

"No, for I'll be their savior in their time of need," he said, to some confusion and some pleased looks.

Honestly, it was a risky strategy that he was proposing. It could backfire and the people may hate him for it. Lady Malora though had told him about how after being starved during the War of the Five Kings, when the Tyrells arrived with Tywin Lannister and broke Stannis's Army, the people had finally been fed properly once more. They'd been on the verge of a true and proper riot before then and one had even broken out as the Lannisters had traveled through the city to wave Princess Myrcella off on her journey to Dorne. After the Tyrells arrived, the people thanked not the Lions but the Roses. Even though it had been them shutting off the food supply to the city in the first place that had led to so many empty bellies.

Jace would do the same thing and hope for the same outcome. Besides, he'd not leave them hungry for long. Once he dealt with Gendry and the Lords of the Stormlands, he'd then set his sights on the Broken King and his Kinslaying Hand. Feeling the night begin to close in, Jace bid the march to be stopped, and no sooner than they'd done so and he'd dismounted from Winter's back than he was joined by Syrax and Aegerax. Ghost was further afield. The white wolf was chasing after bigger prey and they'd be reunited on the morrow. His eagle and dragon though had not been idle.

"You both fed well?" he asked first the one and then the other, their screeched replies now almost sounding the same for some reason.

Both were growing far too quickly and less than a week after leaving Oldtown, he'd found he couldn't bear either's weight on his shoulders. So now they landed beside him and Jace was forced to kneel down to their level to face them. Seeing the blood on Aegerax's snout and Syrax's beak, he wondered if it was still animals that scurried along the ground that they'd fed on. His cousin had tried a different tack when it came to spying on him, using smaller animals rather than ravens to do so. Not that it had fared any better for the Broken King as both Syrax and Aegerax seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to what animals Bran warged into. That it filled them more fully than a raven had been an added bonus too.

"Come, it's time you two were at rest for true," he said as first Syrax and then Aegerax took to the sky and flew to Jace's tent.

By the time he retired for the night, both great beasts were sleeping as peacefully as a giant eagle and growing dragon could. Syrax's body was now about the size of a medium-sized dog. Her wings spanned further than two men with outstretched arms. Aegerax was smaller, but not by much and Jace would wager that within the moon, the red dragon would have outgrown the golden eagle. They were both still babes though, Aegerax most especially. The red dragon could be quick to snap and lose its temper at times and woe betide anyone who even looked at Jace wrongly. Thankfully, with Lady Malora's help and with his own growing comfort with warging, Jace had been able to stop Aegerax from loosing its flames or attacking anyone as of yet.

Five Days Later.

His first view of it was from atop Winter as they crested a hill. Summerhall was a shell of a keep with some walls and broken towers still somewhat standing. Closing his eyes, Jace imagined what it had once looked like. Lord Hightower had given him access to some of the many books he'd had in his library and Lady Malora had picked out more than one or two on his House and family. One of them had drawings of Dragonstone, the Red Keep, the Dragonpit, and Sept of Baelor as well as Summerhall. Places built by his ancestors and all but the first of them now naught but ruins.

Opening his eyes, Jace briefly found himself looking at the ruined keep as it once had been and then had to blink and compose himself as a wave of green fire engulfed it. Shaking his head when Lady Malora looked at him with concern, Jace instead turned his attention to the large force of men that surrounded the keep. The Company of the Rose was truly back in Westeros. It brought a smile to his face that they had come when he'd called for them and he tried not to berate himself for forgetting about them when he'd sought to take Winterfell back from Ramsay Bolton. It would do no one any good to dwell too much on the mistakes of the past.

Had he the chance to do it all over again, then it would have been to Essos that he'd sent word, and given the number of men he could now see, he'd not then have needed the Knights of the Vale to save his arse. With these men with him, he may have been able to save Rickon too. As Jace was sure he could have come up with a far better plan than the one he'd gone with in the end. Shaking that and other regrets from his mind as he knew full well that way madness lay, Jace turned to those with him and under Ser Humfrey's command, a group of men rode down to parley. It was not truly needed, these men were with him and he'd no doubt of their loyalty. Yet he'd take no chances either.

It took no little time for Ser Humfrey to ride back and so after ordering the army to set up camp for the day, Jace, his seconds, Aegerax, Syrax, and the now returned Ghost, all made their way down the hill and towards the keep. He was not truly ready for whatever ghosts he may find there, yet he hid it well from all but Lady Malora and his familiars. Her words to him and the way Ghost, Aegerax, and Syrax all looked his way were more than enough to show him that.

"You'll see much while here, my prince. Learn much. Do not fear it, embrace it for its not just ghosts of the past that you'll find here." Malora said cryptically and while Jace bid her with his eyes for more, she spoke no further words as they rode to the ruined keep.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I want to thank all of you for your well wishes and thoughts, they mean a lot to me, truly. Up Next Jace meets with the Company of the Rose and explores Summerhall before adding a fourth KG. While across an open field, the Men of the Storm and the Army of the Dragon fight out a battle that has echoes of years past. Bran and Tyrion find themselves under siege at sea and make an offer to a pirate queen. While in the North, Sansa and Harrold begin to realize just how precarious their position truly is.

For those following my other fics, Dragonverse is up on Saturday and will be followed by Dark Prince and Live as a Wolf next week. I'm still catching up, so Dragonwolf Danced, I'm aiming for the week afterward.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Yenerys: Thanks so much for saying so, it means a lot. I'm doing better, time as they say is a great healer.

Suppes: Thanks so much. I'm aiming for the new Dragonwolf chapter to be within the next fortnight at the latest.

JaesonBelaerys2000. So glad you liked it. We'll certainly see Asher, I think you have to include him and well I have some plans for him. As for relations to certain Houses, I did plan for a Mormont and Umber as well. The Stormlords, Unfortunately, are completely behind Gendry.

Hyokage: Thanks so much. I'm glad you thought the pacing was good, it can sometimes be hard to keep the line between slow where it's needed and yet quick enough so it's not boring.

Usagi: The world, unfortunately, seeks to test us and I think these last few years for me and I'm sure for most of us have been some of the most testing of all. I was lucky enough in that with Covid none of my family or I got anything too serious. Unpleasant and nasty and enough to wish to make you not want to go through it again, but not worse than that. As for the losses, well all we can do is forebear and hope time gives us peace of mind. I'm doing better, writing helps and it means a lot to see so many people offer me well wishes too.

Literary-Escapism: Thanks so much for saying so.

Yoko: Much appreciated on both counts, it means a lot that you're enjoying the fic, and thank you for your thoughts.

Syrius: It was not a pleasant experience and yet better me than my mum or dad, so there was at least that small comfort to take from it, later of course. I had hoped to get the full meeting done with the COTR, but it would have been short-changed, so it'll be in the next chapter.

Rhatch: Exactly, Cersei was a terrible player of the game, she was far too emotional about things and only had the same answer each and every time. Her main move that didn't require force was with the High Sparrow, and look how well that turned out. You're spot on about LF, too. Although for me I still find his plans to be too intricate. I mean there are far too many moveable pieces. Even going right back to getting Ned to accept being Hand, Lysa's Letter. When you think about it, there was just as good a chance of Ned saying no. Now, I know some people will say that given his honor, and his feelings on Robert/Jon A, but the man had not come south in 15 years, there was a better than even chance of him looking at things and going, yeah, no thanks.

LF also benefits from events beyond his control. Tywin's death and Tyrion's running to Essos. Not to mention that Varys only allows him to live so long because it suits his end goal. For me, the moment anyone even looks LF's way, he's a dead man. And the biggest reason that no one does so ends the moment he actually makes a real move. Had Tywin lived, I think he kills LF, certainly, Tyrion does, and Varys would see it done before the game is over, IMO at least.

So of all the people that Sansa could choose to model herself after, these are the worst. Again, with Sansa, her plan to be QITN smacks of LF and requires people to be morons, which the show made them, and people to act OOC, again which they did. Had Dany been who she named her, then Sansa is dead and let's face it, had Jon actually been a character rather than a walking plot point, Sansa would have been stripped of all power.

LadyAmona: Thanks so much, I'm most grateful for your thoughts. It does mean a lot to me to know that people care, truly it does.

Celexys: Thanks so much for saying so, my friend. We're going to be hitting some big moments over the next few chapters, some battles, and big deaths. As well as our first sighting of the one character we've not seen as of yet.

Wryesenseofhumour: Thank you, my friend, it's much appreciated.

Dunk: Thanks for saying so. I kind of feel that if Bran actually truly tried to warg Drogon, it'd break him. As strong as he is, he's not that strong IMO. But I wished to show a bit of Drogon and tease Dany's fate a little. It won't be the last we see of the black dragon. Oh, Sansa is about to find out just how bad things are in the North. Jace will be eager to hear what Howland has to say and what his reasoning is. But yes, Manderly will, initially at first, be more welcomed. I've used the COTR a couple of times and I have a big plan for them in an upcoming fic, where they will be brought in far earlier. You can see some of Jace's thoughts here regarding them and his regrets and well that sort of inspired me.

Yes, it was a setup chapter. I know some people dislike them, but for me, I find them needed at times, especially in terms of getting people where they are meant to be. It's funny because it's something that makes me almost certain we're never getting to see what we want in GRRM's books. Given where every character is, what so far in the teases for Winds of Winter he's given, he's not even close to bringing them all together yet. Anyway, the next chapter will be more action-packed as will the ones after.

Guest: Thank you. I do find much comfort in writing and in the thoughts that people have shared with me. I'm still grieving, but I'm doing better thanks to all of you amongst other things.

Anthony Fallen One: You've no idea how much even that helps, so let me thank you for saying so.

Matt Black: Thanks so much. The fear is coming for Sansa, we'll begin to see it next chapter as she starts to realize things in the North are worse than she believed. So glad you're liking Aegerax, he has some big moments coming up.

Surpremus: You and I both have some different views but I always welcome your comments and our back and forth. Not once have I ever felt you were disrespectful or mean (even as we disagree lol) so please continue to post in the manner you've always done and know it's appreciated. You're actually right about Howland's line btw. Wait that sounded wrong, as it's not that you're wrong on other things, just that we may not agree on them. Hope you get what I mean. But with Howland, yes it is hypocritical and it was done on purpose. We will see a few things addressed when Jace and Howland meet.

JaenerysBaelerys: From what we can gather or have been told so far, it was as painless as could be and he simply passed in his sleep. So I take as much comfort from that as I can.

I think the one thing we can be sure of with Jace, is he won't bring back a bastard. It was always something that Jon Snow was never going to do, so with Jace, it'll be even more so given his family's experience with bastards. I think with Desmera, it's a lack of understanding of who she truly is. One reviewer in their criticism of the match named her as a random lady from the Reach. If you have read the books, and know the makeup of the Great Houses, then you quickly see that Desmera is one of the half a dozen or so ladies of high enough standing to be considered for a royal match, and that's while so many of those ladies are alive. With them gone and others off the table, she almost becomes the only true choice.

Given the number of fics I've written, I'm so used to weighing up the pros and cons of who to match who with by now. With Desmera, the only reason she's not pushed forward by Olenna in canon is Margaery. Were anything to happen to her, then Olenna would move straight to Desmera and even after Marge is married, should another opportunity arise, then no doubt Olenna would seek to marry Desmera as high as she could. As I said, once you know the lore and have read the books, it's much clearer. So I can forgive people who may only have seen the show.

Yeah, I've used the COTR before, and in another upcoming fic, I've plans to use them more in the canon WOTFK timeline. There will be some offshoots of extinct Northern Houses amongst them. It's too good an opportunity to pass up for there not to be.

Sansa is about to take her own journey down paranoia lane, I wanted to give her this brief moment where everything went her way, or so she'd believe. But it's coming and there will be some aspects of what you say amongst it. Exactly right with Bran, there is a reason why it's only Targs or the Forty Families that were able to fly on dragons and bond with them. If Bran pushes, well Drogon will push back.

I did go with the Ned/Cat parallel with Jace/Desmera for a reason and also showed the dreams so it wouldn't be too much of a surprise, but she will fall pregnant quickly. As for Aegerax, he'll play a role in the war, in his own way, just not be the difference maker in that war.

Silverglow: Thanks for saying so, it means a great deal to me. And no, your words are just personal enough and most welcomed, please know that.

Nazai Thanks for saying so.

Guest: No, I'd not go down that route for the reasons you say here. Bran may try, but he'll never control Drogon, that's just too much for me to even consider. Now, as I said, he'll try, but have no fear that he'll succeed, he won't.

Xan Merrick: Thanks my friend, that means a lot. There will be some fun interactions with Jace and the COTR, their worldview is about to really be turned on its head.

Creativo: Arya podría, sigue siendo imprudente. Sin embargo, Sansa es lo suficientemente orgullosa como para creerse intocable.

Galwidanatitud: For now yes, but Bran can see more or should I say feel more of the threat. Sansa hasn't yet, but it's coming and then she may give Bran a run for his money in the unhinged stakes.

The Stoic: Thanks so much for your most kind words, they're much appreciated.

Orthankg: I'd not wish it on anyone to be honest. More than the death at first, it's that you need to deal with and so you almost get hit twice by the grief. The only comfort I took was that it was better it was me than my mum or dad, so that helped a bit, and time to grieve has helped even more.

It's good to be back though, writing helps as does reading the comments and the thoughts and well wishes, they're all most welcome.

Guest: Thanks for saying so, I'm doing better now.

Lady Octarina: Indeed, it's the curse we've all faced these past few years. My family got lucky enough with Covid and apart from some damnable uncomfortable sicknesses, that was the worst we faced with it, which was more than can be said for some others. But, like any other family, we've suffered our share of losses due to other means at the same time. All we can do is hope things get a little bright over the next few months and years and know that we're not alone in going through this. For me, it's meant so much to have people wish me well, and writing, does help, so it's good to be back.

With Sansa, I wanted to give her a bright moment before the storm. An almost, this is how it could have been if your ambition wasn't your driving force.

I've actually read that fic, it was fun. There was another a long time ago, that had him basically taking up Jaime's role in some regards. Basically, the setup was that Jaime doesn't come North, Cersei pissed by Robert's behavior and Cat's platitudes leaves the Great Hall and finds herself at one of the hot springs, where she spies a naked Jon Snow climbing out of the pool. Well, one thing leads to another and Cersei has her plaything. Jon, is like, hell I'm sleeping with a queen who just happens to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. Anyway, long story short, when Cersei leaves the north she doesn't do so alone. The fic is unfortunately unfinished but is a good read all the same.

s/12133138/1/The-Lioness-The-Pup

Anyway, so far my ideas for one are torn between one where Rhaegar wins and Cersei wants her dragon prince or more canon and where basically Jon is more wolf blooded as well as having been screwed over by Ned. In that one, he's Brandon's son and the rightful heir and well he acts like Brandon when it comes to women and finds out the truth before the Royal Visit. I'm leaning toward that one, it'll be dark and twisted and I think fun to read. I also have a Jon as Cersei's bastard fic I'm working on. Let me know which scenario interests you most.

Gandalf42: Jon/Desmera are getting close and well absence will make the heart grow fonder too. As for Sansa, we'll see some of that next chapter. Bran too.

As you can see from the paragraph above, those are my two initial ideas for Jon/Cersei, I'd be interested to know which of them you would be keener on.

Scarila: Thanks for saying so, it means a lot.

We'll see Arya in a couple of chapters, as for how she'll feel about Gendry, hmm, it's debatable IMO.

: Thanks so much, I'm most grateful for your well wishes. It means a lot that you've enjoyed my fics to read more than one and I hope you continue to do so.

Summerhall will be big for Jace, but mentally and emotionally and that's even without the COTR and his interactions with them. We will see Desmera acting as a queen and showing a side of herself that compliments Jace. I think her being Olenna's granddaughter, you can't just have her be a lady who embroiders, for lack of a better way of putting it. Also, one thing I always felt about Jon, is that he likes strong women and is not afraid for them to take a lead in areas he's less comfortable in. He'll defer when needed, unlike some other men in ASOIAF. I always felt it was Lyanna's spirit in him.

Anyway, with Desmera, I sort of brought it up how she'd been studying to run the Arbor for years, so she's well prepared to rule, even though she'd not expected it to be seven kingdoms and we'll see her make plans for what comes next after Jace wins.

I held back on one KG here, I had two in mind, but I thought I'd make it to a certain place only to fail, so it'll be the next chapter, and you may be able to guess who if you realize where they are. You did manage to get Ser Triston right, so well done for that.

Victoria. Terreros: Thanks so much, my friend, for the words and the hug, both were much needed and even more appreciated. I hope all is well in your own life and you're still taking my advice and doing things that make you smile at least once a day. Know that I took note of it myself and while it was hard to smile some days, I did so. Reading your very kind words and the words of others has meant a lot to me and I thank you again for them.

One thing I feel in regard to Jon is that the animals play a huge part. Ghost obviously, Rhaegal too when he's used, and here Syrax and Aegerax. They center him and I try to show them as much as I can, to even give them little personalities of their own. As for the women, I'm so very, very, happy to read you saying that. I feel that having a strong woman in the story takes nothing away from Jon or another strong man. Each brings their own strengths to things and should complement each other. We'll see it coming up with Desmera, her education, and skills will play a big role in shaping the realm after the battles, and in this, she's more suited than Jon. That doesn't make Jon weak, as some may see him, it makes him strong. I still think for example that Jon/Dany as a partnership would have been incredible, unfortunately, the show robbed us of that.
I like the Starks, some more than others. What I dislike, is the end of the show Starks. They were not wolves or a pack at the end, they didn't stand united against any and all threats and so for me, they weren't Starks, but Tullys. I try to be even-handed with them when I can, but the timeline usually is what defines them for me. In Brother's Keeper, I've given them all mainly a happy fate, which I feel allows me to go differently here.

I hope you like the new KG, we'll get another next chapter. As you know I'm a huge Arthur Dayne fan, I try and use him as much as I can. Here, Jace is building an order he hopes he can be proud of and that honors those who came before it.

Again, thank you my dearest friend for your thoughts, they mean so much to me.