Jon leaned onto the railing of the ship that was taking him to King's Landing; it had been almost three years since the day his life changed forever in the stables of the Red Keep. When he met the fiery Targaryen princess and his betrothed, Daena. He wondered how she had grown and what she was like now. Her letters to him after his father's death had been a great source of comfort. While Daena would often say that her own words are not as pretty as her sister Rhaena's words, it still brought Jon great comfort.
Garmyr and Wraith trotted over to him and nuzzled Jon's legs. He ruffled their fur and petted them. While he had never tried to slip his skin and go into Garmyr's mind. The direwolf still understood him better than virtually any human. That brought a bit of warmth to Jon's heart as it was a reminder that his father still lived inside of Garmyr's mind. He had heard that a second life within a direwolf was considered something that other wargs greatly envied. That it was a second life fit for a king.
Even with that consolation, he still wished his father was with him guiding him. Tears threatened to fall from Jon's face as he thought of his father and the pain his death caused in the House of Stark. His father's wife and Jon's adoptive mother was devastated with the loss of her beloved lord husband. The reaction from his sisters was not any better. He remembered the night he returned to Winterfell with his father's bones. He remembers holding his twin sisters tightly in his arms as they cried and screamed that they wanted their father back. He remembered the pain of seeing them cry themselves to sleep in his arms or the arms of their mother. The tears were now falling from his face, as the memories came flooding in like the White Knife in the first thaw after Winter. The only time he could remember seeing his Lord Grandfather cry was when they finished interring the bones of Jon's father. It nearly broke his grandfather, but the Old Wolf pulled himself together with the final mission to ensure that Jon was ready to take his father's place and one day inherit Winterfell and the North.
Beron called out, "Jon, the Commodore said the ship and squadron will make port with the tide, so it shan't be much longer".
Jon replied, "Thank you Beron, see that all preparations are ready for when we make port".
Beron answered, "Aye, Jon"... Beron paused before saying, "Jon, I know I have said this before, but if you need a friend to speak to, I am here for you. You don't have to suffer alone. I knew your father better than my own Lord father. I feel his loss just as you do".
Jon responded, "I know Beron. I just need a few moments".
He opened the skin of mead and took a deep swig before handing it to Beron who took his own deep swig.
Jon asked, "It's strange I am more afraid of what I will find in King's Landing than I was before the battle of the Boneway. Letters are good and well, but what if the favor I found with Daeron and Daena no longer exists, and I am nothing more than a legitimized bastard".
Beron said, "You are a bloody fool if you believe that, Jon. I saw those letters, the love and affection in those letters were as certain as winter"!
Jon gave his friend a small smile as he said, "You are right, I am being a fool. It is just that with the autumn storms and the amount of lessons my grandfather had to put me through to prepare me for my new role as his heir and what is expected of me at court now, our return to King's Landing has taken much longer than I expected".
Beron said, "You sent several ravens explaining your absence already so it is not as if they have heard nothing about your whereabouts. Trust me Jon, you have nothing to worry about. There will simply be a feast and tourney to hail you as a war hero and announce your betrothal to Daena".
Jon said, "What are you talking about? There is a tourney about to be held, but why would it be for me"?
Beron said, "Jon you sullen foolish bastard. Why else would they be hosting such a tourney especially as the conquest of Dorne is still so recent and everyone from the most common peasant levy to the greatest knights know that a renewed war with Dorne is still very likely no matter if every noble family has had hostages taken from them. The tourney shows how the realm is still strong and ready to fight and the honoring of a war hero that is both a hero to the crown and a true knight who fought his own comrades to hold true to his knightly vows in the defense of Dornish women, children, and greybeards should be a self evident message. That we can both defeat you and protect you. It is up to the Dornish to choose whether they want the shield of the crown or the crown to unleash their ferocious direwolf from the Seven Hells".
Jon said, "I cannot argue with that logic, but I doubt it is in my honor. I made many enemies with both those who wanted to grind Dorne into the Sand and the Dornish who wanted to keep their independence. I am no symbol".
Beron said, "You must not have paid any attention to your Lord Grandfather. A Stark is a symbol. He is the symbol of the North. So long as a Stark lives, so does the North. It is a Stark who keeps all the old rivalries from flaring up. Who keeps the Ryswells and Dustins from slaying each other over pasture and water. Who can settle the chaotic and petulant Mountain clans. Who rallies the North to defend herself from Andals, Essosi, or Wildlings. Who provides food and shelter for those who must leave their homes so that their children can survive the winter?"... "I may wear a white cloak now, but I am still a Northmen and a Manderly at that. The North Remembers, and a Manderly never forgets the promise we swore ''.
Jon extended his arm and they clenched each other's forearms.
Jon said, "Thank you Beron. You are a true friend".
Beron smirked and replied, "Likewise Jon. Though don't expect me to take it easy on you if we face each other in the tourney".
Jon smiled as he said, "Is that so? I have never seen you so quick to give up an excuse for when I defeat you".
They had finally arrived in port upon the evening tide. The dock was busy but there was no party awaiting their sun had already mostly dipped below the horizon by the time they had fully disembarked. They made their procession towards the Red Keep in silence save for the sound of hooves clanking along the cobblestone road from the docks to the Red Keep.
Beron was especially silent as he had expected a welcoming party for the return for them. The Northern lords and heirs that had accompanied them were also perturbed at the lack of any welcoming party. Jon in contrast had figured that their arrival would not be received with fanfare. Even if those dark thoughts weren't plaguing his mind, they had arrived with the evening tide and setting sun. they had only made it a day before the tourney was to commence, thus, Daeron would be busy with the feast and revelries.
They arrived before the gates of the Red Keep and it was obvious that the guards were not expecting any new arrivals but upon seeing the white of the Kingsguard alongside the Direwolf of Stark, they quickly opened the gates. Stableboys, grooms, and other servants were in a panicked rush to receive them and take their horses to the stables.
Beron said to the eldest of the servants, "Summon the steward. We have a need of quarters befitting the heir of Winterfell along with a dozen lords and heirs of honorable Northern houses. Our presence is required by his grace. So have the steward coordinate with the grooms and stewards of the Northern lords. Do be careful with the wolves, they should have a stable each and fresh meat is to be served to them'.
The groomsmen replied with a bit of hesitation at the idea of stabling direwolves, "Yes, milord. It will be done".
They made their way inside the Red Keep and towards the Great Hall. Jon led their party into the Great Hall, taking the herald by complete surprise. The herald rushed to announce him and his party. His sudden entrance brought the musicians to a stop and thus brought an air of silence among the nobles who were drinking or dancing. There was a quiet gasp that came from several of the guests and even from the high table where the royal family sat.
For a moment Jon's fears seemed to have been realized. Then all at once his fears came crashing down as Daeron left the dais and made his way towards him. Jon began to kneel before Daeron as a show of fealty and homage.
Daeron called out, "The Hero of the Conquest and one of the truest knights of the realm has no need to kneel before me! Especially one who is a brother to me in all but blood".
Jon stood back up and clasped Daeron's arm in greeting as Daeron met him in the center of the Great Hall.
Daeron then raised Jon's arm into the air and said, "My leal lords and noble ladies, I present to you, Ser Jon Stark, the heir to Winterfell. A knight who is ferocious in both battle and the defense of the innocent"!
The amount of attention Daeron was drawing to him unnerved Jon, but there was nothing he could do, but endure it.
Daeron said, "Come my friend, let us feast and celebrate our conquest! It is as much your glory as it is mine".
Jon said, "You honor me, your grace. I am yours to command. Now and always".
Daeron said, "Then my command is for you and your fellow Northern lords to eat, drink, and revel in the greatest tournament in Westeros since the reign of King Jaehaerys"!
The Northern lords were seated and given food and drink. Most decided to partake in the fine southern food and wine. Jon and Beron had other plans. Beron took a place among his new sworn brothers as a knight of the Kingsguard, while Jon took a goblet of hippocras and drank deeply for courage. One fear had been laid to rest but there was another that haunted his mind even more.
He scanned the Great Hall as if he was an eagle searching for its prey. While he had been nervous about whether or not Daeron still considered him a friend, the true source of his anxiety was whether or not Daena still loved him and wished to marry him. He couldn't explain it, but Daena was nothing like any woman he had ever met.
He finally found her on the floor of the Great Hall, dancing with a young lordling dressed in aquamarine silk chased with silver. By his age, Jon knew he wasn't Lord Velayron thus he must be a son of the Oakenfist. Jon was left breathless at the mere sight of Daena. Jon was the blood of the First Men and devout follower of the old gods, but he knew that even the Maiden of the Seven, paled in comparison to how beautiful Daena was. She wore a stunning dress of black silk that accented her body perfectly, with crimson silk thread delicately embroidered along the bodice and sleeves. Blood red rubies were sewn into her dress with her gold three headed dragon pendant hanging around her neck. A circlet of red gold with embedded dragon glass sat on her head.
He placed the drained goblet on the dais and began walking towards Daena, but before he could even get a dozen paces he was stopped by a skinny lordling in fine black silk, accented with crimson. Jon was about to tell the skinny lordling to get out of his way, but stopped upon realizing who this was. Baelor Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone. Brother to Daeron and Daena.
Jon said, "My prince".
Baelor said, "Bastard".
With just one word, Jon went from wanting to be as cordial and polite as possible as to not give offense but with one word, that scrawny fool destroyed any willingness to be peaceable and follow the protocols of court.
Jon said with a cold voice that carried the cold fury of the North beneath it, "I am Stark, not a Snow. Have care how you speak to a Northmen, my prince. For we Northmen remember slights against us, for the North remembers".
Baelor said, "Just because my brother foolishly gave you the name Stark, does not truly remove the taint of bastardry. As the Seven knows that bastards are wanton and treacherous by nature. Merely having the name or the look does not change your bastardry. Especially for a heathen Northman".
Jon said, "I would demand you defend those words with steel, but I can just smell the cowardness wafting off you. No wonder why you were not in Dorne, you are a spineless craven. You speak so boldly because you think that the Kingsguard will come to your defense should I throw down the gauntlet or strike you".
Baelor smirked as the music of the feast kept anyone more than a few paces from hearing their words.
Baelor said, "You are threatening a Prince of the Blood. I could have your tongue out for that," pausing he then continued, "The Kingsguard are blessed by the Seven and each is as skilled as the Warrior. No matter how skilled a bastard like you is, you will fall to any of them. Challenge me again bastard, and you will die like your savage heathen father".
Jon replied with the fury becoming less and less hidden, "You are a fool. They are the Kingsguard not the Princeguard. It is Daeron who they obey. The true dragon of House Targaryen, not a sniveling wyrm with no flame. They will not come to your aid if Daeron forbids it. Especially not Beron or Ameon. The bond of brothers in arms who were forged in the crucible of war is not a bond that is easily broken. Out of the love I bear your cousin Ameon, your sister Daena, and your Kingly brother; I will not make you taste my steel for your insults. But if you dare be so foolish as to insult my father or any of my kin, I will gut you myself and present you as an offering to the gods".
Baelor was left stunned by Jon's words. Jon made a move to past him, bumping into Baelor's shoulders.
As Jon did, he said one final thing to the craven prince, "I do not make threats, I make promises".
Jon left Baelor standing there as he made his way to Daena.
He almost reaches her when he is stopped by another lordling, this one though is the complete opposite of the arrogant arse. It was an older man, with shoulder length black hair and short cropped black beard that was lightly salted. He was tall and gave off an aura of power. This man was plainly a veteran warrior. Jon's eyes finally found the man's sigil. It was the Weirwood of House Blackwood. Making this older man, Lord Benjicot Blackwood. Bloody Ben, one of the greatest warriors in Westeros and cousin to Jon's aunts by Lady Alys.
Jon said, "Lord Blackwood, it is a pleasure to meet you".
Lord Blackwood said, "The pleasure is mine, Ser Stark. My cousins have written to me a lot about their favorite nephew. I am glad to finally make his condolences on the passing of your lord father. My aunt loved him as if he was her own son, which makes him a cousin to me in all but blood. He was a good man. As you are his son, ".
Jon replied, "Thank you, Lord Blackwood. I have fond memories of Lady Alys. She was very kind to me".
In any other situation Jon could have spent hours talking to the fearless lord of Raventree, but Jon had a mission. He had to speak to Daena. It took Jon a few moments before Jon could politely free himself from the Lord of Raventree Hall.
His quest was foiled again as Daena was now dancing with her uncle and Hand of the King, Prince Viserys Targaryen. While Prince Viserys had never done anything towards Jon that indicated that he was opposed to Jon spending time with Daena let alone that he would oppose a match between Jon and her given Jon's new status as a knight and heir to Winterfell. It would be foolish to try and cut in as even if it was the most remote of possibilities, it would not do to offend Daeron and Daena's family. He didn't need any more enemies at court.
He finally managed to get Daena's attention as she finished dancing with her uncle. Jon found himself speechless in that critical moment.
Daena broke the silence, "Jon".
He replied, "Daena".
They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Balerion the Black Dread could have burst through the great hall and Jon would never have known. He was solely focused on Daena.
Daena broke the silence again, "Would my brave and gallant knight of the white wolf honor me with a dance"?
Jon was broken out of his stupor and he replied, "Of course, my princess. It would be my great pleasure and honor".
She punched his shoulder in jest as she said, "Just Daena, for you, I will always just be Daena".
They danced for what seemed an eternity as they danced through a dozen songs, hardly saying a word, but staring into each other's eyes. In Winterfell Jon had never been much of a dancer, too anxious and self critical to have the confidence and grace necessary to avoid stepping on his partner's toes, but with Daena, he was as graceful as the running wolf in winter. They needed no words to speak but spoke with their eyes. The love she bore him had grown from the infatuation of a girl on the cusp of becoming a woman to a true and deep love.
Daena asked, "Do you mind if we step out of the Hall? I need some air and I wish to speak to you without the fools of the court nearby".
Jon answered, "For you Daena, I would do anything".
Daena said with a mischievous smirk, "I will hold you to that Jon".
She drew close to him and whispered into his ear, "When we are wed, you will repay such a promise".
Jon knew his face was suddenly red and it wasn't the wine that gave him such a flush. He held out his arm so she could take it as they walked back to dais.
As they arrived at the dais, Daena said, "Ser Beron, I require an escort".
Beron said with a smile, "As you wish, your grace. I will make sure the wolf knows his place".
Jon rolled his eyes at Beron. Daena hadn't just grown in beauty, but in her mind as well. She knew full well that rumors would spark from their long dance and their private conversation, and some of the nobles even knew that they were close from the panicked search for Daena on the eve of the conquest. So an escort was necessary, and none could say that a Knight of the Kingsguard wasn't one of the finest escorts possible. She also chose one whom she knew would be loyal not just to her but him too.
When they were finally outside, the cool autumn air refreshed them. Allowing them to finally breathe air that wasn't heavy with the scent of smoke, perfume, food, and wine.
Daena placed a hand on his face turning it towards her before she kissed him. Jon lost all sense of protocol and decorum as he kissed her back, returning every bit of passion and love that she gave him with her kiss. As they kissed in the moonlight, Jon heard the howl of wolves singing an ancient song.
A forced cough broke them out of the heaven that was their kiss. They turned as one towards the source. Whom of course, was Beron.
Beron said, "At least pretend that you two are not betrothed yet. You two may be betrothed but I rather not have to explain how I failed in my duties by preserving the honor of a princess of the Blood".
Daena said, "Oh please, there is a heart tree of weirwood in the godswood. If I gave the order, I would order you to stand witness to our marriage and bedding".
Jon choked on his tongue at the suggestion that they wed this very night and consummate their union before the gods.
Beron said, " Only if you wish your cousin Ameon to kill Jon and myself for going along with such a brash plan".
Daena said, "You are no fun, ser Beron".
Jon finally found his tongue and said, "It won't be long till we are married, my love. It will the grandest wedding since the Golden Wedding. We have all our kith and kin present, and the realm will see that the Dragon and Direwolf are one".
Daena pouted as she said, "Fine, but you must name me the Queen of Love and Beauty in the tourney then".
Jon replied, "As my Queen commands".
Daena kissed him again and said in the moments their lips parted before pressing into each other again, "I said just Daena. I love you Jon, not your titles or honors".
Jon replied as he embraced her tighter, "And I love you Daena. To hell with your titles. You are the only woman I will ever love. I swear it before the old gods and the new".
Daena said, "Good. Afterall, I hear wolves like dragons mate for life".
Author's Note:This story is back and will be back into the rotation of updated fics. P.S. With the release of Netflix's live action adaptation of One Piece, I can kind of of in the mood for writing another one-shot or chapter for my Tales of the Conquerors' series so let me know if you guys would be interested in that.