A/N: Hi guys. Life goes on. Could really use your prayers.

Published a new collab fic on Ao3 called "Bound Together." Very excited for that, so be sure and check it out :)

Enjoy and comment!

Chapter 7: Dragonwolves

"Are we really doing this, Sans?" Dany asked in hushed tones, the two of them doing their best to stroll casually into the stables. Given their skill in plotting adventure and skirting the rules to do so, their best was pretty good in execution. "We're really gonna go after Jon and Arthur?"

"Damn straight," Sansa replied with a wolfish little grin. "Not gonna let him go without us. We belong together… the three of us, you know this."

"Aye, I do."

For once, Daenerys found herself the more… cautious one of the two. Did she want this, absolutely. Jon was not going to go on some great adventure without she and Sansa watching his back - even if Ser Arthur was with him - but that being said… "This isn't going through the tunnels of the Red Keep… or climbing the dragonmont or even sneaking out for a nightime fly. We cannot treat this as nothing, given if we succeed we'll be away from home for many moons at least.

Sansa sighed. "I know, gods I know." They stopped in front of one of the stalls. "This is why we'll need to plan for every single detail… and find out everything we can about Jon and Arthur's plans." But her smile returned. "You have a favorite horse, correct?"

"Aye, my beautiful mount." Her goodsister gave it to her as a gift, a mighty mare that could keep up with Jon's stallion, one of the many foals sired between Moondancer and Winter.

"We cannot use our own horses," Sansa replied. "I'm not sure if Arthur is gonna let the horses go with him across the Narrow Sea, so we'll need mounts that can be easily sold in White Harbor without causing issues here in Winterfell."

"Do we have horses such as that?"

"A few, like this one here." She gestured to a spotted gelding. "However… mayhaps we should both ride one horse."

Dany shrugged. "I'm game if you are."

Smiling softly, the prospect of riding close to her best friend was quite appealing to Sansa - an appeal mirrored in Dany's violet eyes.

"Daenerys! Sansa!" Both girls suddenly tensed at Egg's voice, concerned they had been discovered… until he poked his head into the stable. "There you two are! Come quick, Sprinter's in labor!"

It took a moment for them to understand. "Wait, the pups are here?!"

Egg nodded. "Aye, now get your asses over here before you miss it!"

It was in the family solar in which the birthing bed was placed, Queen Lyanna having clearly taken charge as she, Queen Elia, and Lady Ashara barked orders at the servants while Maester Luwin and several of his acolytes watched over the panting Sprinter. Making sure the labor was going well. Gathered in a semicircle were the children, all of them nervous - Rhaenys most of all. "Is she alright?" trembled the beautiful Princess, normally quite confident. "Tell me she's alright."

"She'll be fine, child." Uncle Ned kissed the crown of her head. "Ladies have been doin' this since life began… you were born this way."

"I'd rather not be reminded of that," whined Rhae, drawing chuckles from some of the adults.

Spirit, the soon to be papa of the coming litter, bent his head to lick Sprinter's fur, nuzzling her head before bounding back over to where Rhaegar was, sitting on his haunches. An almost… proud look was planted on his face, tongue out and baring his teeth in what had to be a grin.

Clapping, Rhaegar let his hand down to ruffle the direwolf's fur. "Well boy, you're getting a litter from one lady just after you sired another litter off another lady." Frost rested in the corner by the hearth, ever sluggish since Luwin confirmed she was gravid with pups. "You may be muna's, but in your love life you take just after your kepa." Spirit panted, enjoying the attention. Rhaegar chuckled. "Think I can get one more litter of my own from your munas?" he whispered a bit loudly.

"We heard that!" Lyanna called out, laying down another towel for Sprinter's sake. "You've whelped enough children off of us! The next babes will be of the grandchildren variety." Her grey eyes focused on Rhaenys.

Blinking, Rhaenys blushed madly. "What? No… I can tell you it will be a bit of time before that happens." That drew many more laughs, lightening the tension.

In fact, only two more hours passed before all was over. Sprinter was tired but clearly in good spirits, while spread out among the carpet were six tiny pups. Fur soft and matted, eyes closed, and squirming about as they searched for a tit to take, downing their first meal.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Rhaenys snatched up a tiny pup with reddish-brown fur, eyes shut and squalling softly with it's soft snout. "Finally, after so long and so much waiting I've finally gotten my own direwolf." She pressed a kiss to the squirming little creature. "You are mine, sweetling. I'm your muna, and you are Nysar, my beautiful child."

"Nysar, how original, sister," chuckled Daenerys, reaching down to tickle the belly of an all black wolf.

Rhaenys scoffed. "The name of Nymeria's ancient domain on the Rhoyne is a perfect name… and I already named my dragon after her." She gently set Nysar back down, alongside Sprinter. "So what are you gonna name yours, Dany, pray tell?"

Grinning, Dany continued to gently stroke her chosen pup. "Moonlight. She may be dark as night, but she is the light in the midst of it." Moonlight took that moment to yawn, showing off her toothless jaw in all its cuteness.

By the old gods, all were utterly adorable.

"Here Robb," insisted Ned. "Pick one." With only six of them, the eldest children had priority much to the annoyance of Visenya, and Rickard… only the prospect of another litter from Frost coming along mollified them.

Robb, gazing at them in awe, picked a grey pup. Stroking the fur. "Grey Wind. That's what I'll name him." Spirit approached him, body wrapping around Robb, nuzzling his side, and then licking his pup. Elia pushed Aegon to choose, which he did. A darker grey, squalling beast he dubbed, Smoke. Smoke was a quiet pup, but large and strong. Almost a perfect companion for the Targaryen Prince.

"I am next," insisted Sansa after fawning over Moonlight with Dany. There were only two left, and a soft brown wolf took her breath away. "Aren't you a little lady, just like me?" She scooped her up. "That's your name, Lady."

"Lady's a stupid name for a wolf."

"Shut up, Senya." Visenya giggled.

Now, only one was left… "Which one is yours, Baelon?" Rhaella asked.

As he looked at Sprinter and her pups, it was Theon Greyjoy that answered for Jon. "Only one not picked is the white one… ha, the runt of the litter for Jon." Giggling, only a smack upside the head from his stern-faced sister shut him up.

But Theon was right. The only direwolf that hadn't been claimed was a white one off to the side, fur without a scrap of color and wandering aimlessly in search of something. Tiny little paws barely able to move along the carpet. Sure enough, he was smaller than all the other pups. "Do we think the boy will survive?" a worried Elia asked Lyanna.

Shaking her head, Lyanna pressed her lips against Elia's temple. "Aye, I have a feeling… the wee one is a fighter like Baelon was."

Baelon, approaching the pup, scooped him up and looked him in the face. Even with the pup's eyes shut, it seemed to the Prince almost as the same bond formed between him and Valyrax when the dragon was still inside his egg. "Aren't you precious?" Jon asked. "I don't care what any of my siblings, cousins, or my aunt says. You're the bestest of all of them."

The direwolf yawned, but not a noise left his jaws.

"A quiet one, eh? Like a ghost." The pup nuzzled his hand at that, making Jon's eyes light up. "White, quiet… that's your name. Ghost." Jon cuddled the pup in his arms. "Don't worry, Ghostie, you're gonna be the biggest wolf like your brother Valyrax is the biggest dragon. Kepa promises." All Ghost did was fall asleep in Baelon's arms, soothed into slumber by his heartbeat.

Watching, Sansa's vision suddenly flashed to something strange… It was a young man, obviously Jon but older. Close to the age her cousin Rhaenys was. He sported a beard like her poppa's and cuddled a beautiful babe in his arms, staring up at him with violet eyes and red hair.

As soon as the image came, it vanished, leaving her still in Winterfell watching Lady nurse from Sprinter's teat.

Leaving Sansa biting her lip, wondering if that was her future… and deep in her heart longing for it to be true.

Shaking her head, Rhaella Targaryen looked more the irritated parent than concerned lover. "Oh, Jaime… didn't I tell you not to try and show off for me on the sparring court." Staring at her paramour still flush with youth, it nevertheless did make her feel younger… especially when he took her to bed. "I am already in awe of your mighty strength, oh powerful lion of mine."

Resting on their bed, Jaime reached down to rub his sprained ankle… far better than having broken it, at least. "I didn't intend for it solely to impress you… rather to show my niece and nephew how real Lannister warriors do things."

"And yet you did hope to impress me?"

Jaime grinned. "How else am I supposed to seduce a beautiful Targaryen dragonrider when I'm but a lonely knight?"

Smirking at him, she bent down and pressed their lips together - first in a gentle lip lock but it deepened. The fierce dragon in Rhaella growling as she pushed Jaime flat against the bed. Taking what she wanted. Desperately wanting to fish out his cock, hike up her dress, and have him. But…

But what? Fuck this, I'm a dragon, he's mine, and I want him. So fish out his cock she did - seeing how hard it was for her with hungry eyes. So hike up her dress she did, finding her cunt soaking just from the thought of having him all to herself. And moan Rhaella did at the familiar stretch of her cunt at his thick cock, impaling herself on him with the luxury of privacy…

Oh, life was good…

An hour later, she had left Jaime asleep in bed, kissing his forehead and trying not to wince as she walked from how hard he fucked her. No matter how many namedays passed, Jaime's desire for her never wavered, nor did her love for him. Joanna… She looked to the sky as she left the keep, her thick northern-style furs keeping her warm against the fury of winter. I hope you are fine with this… thank you, for raising such a wonderful son. Jaime was a priceless gem, worth more than all the gold in the Seven Kingdoms.

Truly a gift from her late best friend even after death.

Many gifts provided her as the torture of her marriage to Aerys - not that she blamed him anymore for his cruelty - and besides the dragons the most precious of all… "Baelon," she called out.

Bundled in black furs just like she, her grandson the Crown Prince looked at first glance right at home in Winterfell more than any of the other Starks. It was only when his violet eyes found her and lit up did she see the dragon in him. "Grandmother!" He ran to her.

Rhaella hugged him close. "My beautiful grandson, where are you headed?'

"To the dragons," he beamed. "Wanna come with me?"

Her heart skipped a beat, Rhaella ruffling his hair. "We are Targaryens, such is a place we should be." Arm around his shoulders, Baelon was a year away from being as tall as she, muscles strong with training under Ser Arthur. "But why is it that you wish to see your dragon? Those are not riding clothes."

A little nudge underneath his furs drew Rhaella's attention. Smiling sheepishly, Jon pulled back the fold to reveal the white ball that was Ghost. Eyes still shut but rather inquisitive. "I wanna introduce Valyrax to his valonqar."

Chuckling, Rhaella squeezed his shoulder. "Oh, Baelon, if you'd have asked my kepa if one day the future King would have both a dragon and a direwolf as bonded companions, he wouldn't have believed you."

"King Aegon the Unlikely, your kepa…" Jon asked. "Would he have liked me."

Rhaella's heart melted, leaning down to kiss him. "He would've adored you, Baelon. The spitting image of what a Targaryen should be. Ever so proud to do what he could not - you and Daenerys." Gods, she was proud of all of them.

"Why couldn't he hatch the dragons, muna? Wasn't he great?"

"He was," she sighed. "But all I can speculate is that House Targaryen simply wasn't ready yet." Her kepa, obsessed he was by the end - almost like Aerys in his saner moments. Rhaella prayed that his soul had peace in the afterlife after such a fiery death. "Baelon."

"Kessa, grandmother?" He cooed at Ghost, kissing the white fur. It was heartwarming.

"I've told you many stories about my kepa, how he and Duncan the Tall traveled the Seven Kingdoms."

"Like I'm doing with Arthur."

"Aye, as you are, but let me place a word of advice for you." As the guards let the two Targaryens slip through the gates - waving to the Mother of Dragons and their beloved Winter Prince - Rhaella turned Jon around and looked into his eyes. "You must know this, you aren't simply going on an adventure. A proper ruler acts like a ruler should, but should also know the plight of the smallfolk and have their best interests at heart."

"I do, grandmother…"

She shushed him with a finger against his lips. "You mean well, but you don't truly know their plight. Their struggles. What they want from you that separates them from Lords, Ladies, and knights that inhabit your kepa's court. Just… make sure to never judge someone as beneath you because of their low birth." He listened intently. "Sometimes the lowest-born wretch is a Lord or Lady in their heart, while the highest of noble ladies or lords are in truth lower than criminals or cutpurses."

He nodded. "I will remember, grandmother. I will be as wise as muna Elia, loving as muna, and merciful as kepa."

Caressing his cheek, Rhaella smiled widely. "Truly Baelon, Asher Forrester couldn't have been more correct when he proclaimed you 'The Conqueror Reborn.'"

Jon smiled back, pride, confidence, and ambition filling him. "I swear I will rise to the occasion, grandmother. I'll be greater than Aegon I, Conquering and not letting anyone get in the way."

Rhaella's smile waned. "Aegon I was a mighty Conqueror, that is true Baelon, but he also knew when to be merciful." The founder of their Dynasty had personally spared Loren the Last and Torrhen, the King Who Knelt - both the heads of houses that were now their closest allies… the blood of her grandson and youngest daughter.

Baelon's expression hardened and Rhaella swore that she saw her grandfather, Maekar I - how her kepa described him. "Those who don't bend the knee or betray us will receive the words of our house." If he was truly to surpass his kepa and the great kings Aegon I, Jaehaerys I, Daeron I, or Aegon V, he couldn't allow himself to be Aenys the Weak or Viserys the Clueless. He would show them all what happens if you defy the dragons, even if excessive he could already see a sliver of justification in Maegor's punishments and Maekar's strict disposition.

Kissing the crown of his curly black hair, Rhaella was both elated and… a bit concerned. "You will be the deliverer of fire and blood, my little dragonwolf. Just promise you will never give into any madness."

"Of course I won't." There was her mighty grandson.

All of the dragons inhabited a plain just north of Winterfell. The ground was covered in carcasses, and few possessed the bravery to even get within five hundred feet of them - only the Targaryens and select few Starks and Lannisters were allowed by the beasts to get any closer. That didn't stop looky loos from Wintertown to try and view the great creatures.

Wedging himself between Nymerion an Aegarax, Jon found his beloved son. Valyrax, the Black Dread reborn. "Hi, boy," he murmured, rousing the beast with a touch of the snout. "I've brought you your valonqar."

Uncovering Ghost, Valyrax poked his snout out to touch the new creature in his kepa's grip. Without fear, Ghost sniffed Valyrax. Who is this ball of fur?

"This is Ghost," Jon said in high Valyrian. "He's my direwolf."

Hmmm… your other blood. He sniffed the wolf, growling. Only a dragonrider knew it was a good sound. He loves you as much as I do. Jon beamed.

Watching, Rhaella stroked the scales underneath Jaimexes' eye. "Isn't it something, girl?"

The future is before us, muna.

"Aye, what a wonderful future."

"I heard rumors that you are to stay in the North for an entire year."

Strolling down the hallways of her muna's ancestral home, Princess Rhaenys nodded. "Aye, the rumors are true. Lord Stark has kindly offered to foster me." Dressed in a thick grey dress that nevertheless hugged every curve, only her coloring made Rhaenys look anything less than a child of House Stark.

Torrhen Karstark, heir to Karhold after the death of his elder brother in the Rebellion, was kindly providing his handsome form as an escort for her. Not that Rhae needed it, but being accompanied by a handsome man or beautiful lady was not something she would turn down. "While the North will be all the brighter for your presence, Princess…" Such a charmer. One of the reasons she'd welcomed him into her embrace at White Harbor, baring his body and the top half of hers to mutual pleasure. "Wouldn't his Grace prefer to foster you in Dorne?"

"You mean my other muna's family?" She snorted. "Do not mention them. My uncle Oberyn is constantly traveling and the only other one I like, my cousin Arianne, can visit me in King's Landing." Hearing her uncle Doran's pithy insults about Queen Lyanna and her valonqar were simply annoying. "Besides, Egg will be fostering there, most likely."

"Egg?" Torrhen wrinkled his brows, only to nod in understanding. "Ah, Prince Aegon. Right?" He snickered. "'Egg,' that's clever."

"It works. As I am Rhae, Daenerys is Dany, and Baelon is Jon."

"Jon does sound more Northern." They reached her chambers. "And we are here, Princess." She smiled, kissed his cheek, and opened the door to enter.

As he moved to follow her, Rhaenys whipped around and placed a slender finger against his breastbone. "Lord Torrhen, what is it that you are doing?" Her tone was firm but there was a smirk about her lips.

"Um… weren't you inviting me in?" Torrhen asked.

"How would it look for a young lordling to be seen alone in the chamber of an unmarried Princess still in possession of her maidenhead?" A tiny yelp from inside caught her attention, making Rhaenys grin. "But I suppose I am not alone this time… there is someone who can chaperone us."

Torrhen's face fell. "Who?" Imagining some Kingsguard - especially the Princess' uncle Benjen Stark - was not something he wished to endure. "A guard… a maid?"

"Too small and utterly adorable to be either." Giggling, Rhaenys bid him entry to find a tiny ball of russet fur bound to her on shaky legs. "Nysar, you cute little pup." Rhaenys hefted her beloved wolf into her arms, cradling the squirming bundle against her chest - making Torrhen quite jealous of the direwolf. Rhaenys' chest was one to behold, and he desired so greatly to have his mouth against them as he had back at White Harbor.

Among other places of her.

"Truly is amazing," he finally said, watching the wolf lick at Rhae's wrist. "First the sigils of the house of our kin arrive many years ago, and now those of the dragonsblood are able to tame them."

"Not astonishing on the latter. I am Targaryen and Martell by blood, but as much a Stark as I am the other… much as my brother the Crown Prince is a Martell."

"His sigil is quite… enlightening." Utterly gorgeous though Dornishwomen were, Torrhen didn't know why one of Northern blood would wish connection with that of the South… though Rhaenys seeking connection in the North made absolute sense to him.

Rhaenys smirked, kissing Nysar's head. "That's Baelon, an enlightening sort." Turning to Torrhen, she gestured to Nysar. "You have Stark blood… why don't you pet her?"

Extending his hand out, Torrhen smiled and was about to stroke her fur when Nysar lashed out. She bore no teeth so the bite was but a nip, but she barked up a storm… well, as much as a pup could bark. It came out as a pathetic squall. "Mayhaps she doesn't like me," Torrhen murmured.

Laughing, Rhaenys cuddled her. "Wee sweetling," she cooed. Nuzzling the fur and rocking the pup to sleep. "Mayhaps she's just tired… and hungry. I'll take her to Sprinter for some suckling time later." Placing Nysar into some blankets, Rhaenys patted on her bed. "I have a little time before I must meet my kepa. Perhaps… we can find something to do to pass the time, Lord Torrhen?"

He grinned. "I am at your service, Princess."

Before they could kiss, Rhaenys stopped him. "As I said before, you are not to touch my maidenhead."

Sighing, Torrhen nevertheless nodded. "Alright." Any form of sexual pleasure with her dwarfed that of any other woman, so he took what he could eagerly.

So did Rhaenys.

Alas for Torrhen - though his consternation was quite adorable to Rhaenys - she was forced to cut it short. Needed was she with her kepa, and out he needed to be before Ser Benjen arrived to escort her.

But it wasn't Benjen, but rather her 'grandfather' Ser Jaime. "Princess…"

"Kepa wants me?"

"Aye, as does your Uncle Ned."

"Your goodson and goodbrother," Rhaenys giggled. Watching as Jaime smirked and rolled his up Nysar, she nodded to Jaime. "Let's get to it then."

They walked in silence at first, dropping off her direwolf with her mother for some milk and cuddling, but in the stairwell Jaime spoke. "You should be more discreet about your… dalliances, Princess."

Rhaenys groaned. "So you know of that?"

"Just me, Princess… mayhaps the Hound, but he doesn't speak even normally."

"I suppose you'll tell at least my grandmother."

But Jaime shook his head. "Not unless they ask me, and if you keep yourself circumspect they won't ask." He chuckled but then looked serious. "Torrhen Karstark?"

She shrugged. "He's comely and a good kisser."

He shook his head. "A strong Lord he is of the

North, but you are a Targaryen and not a Stark. He is beneath you."

"And who would be one I marry? Egg? Robb? Baelon?" The latter made her giggle. "Dany and Sansa would claw my eyes out if I got between them and their future husband."

"Your grandmother certainly hopes for such an eventuality," smirked Jaime. "And you are too much your uncle Oberyn's daughter for your own good."

"Relax, my maidenhead is still intact." He groaned at that. "And I don't intend to marry Torrhen Karstark. He's just… fun."

A sigh. "You may think that way, but what if he thinks something different?" Rhaenys had no answer for that.

Before they knew it, they were at her uncle Ned's solar, occupied by both him and her kepa. "Kepa, uncle Ned," she spoke, hugging both of them. "You summoned me?"

"Aye, we have, but it isn't anything problematic," said Rhaegar, motioning them to sit. "Just going over some details over your fostering."

"Loose away." She smiled, very eager… even if it was cold. "Promise me that summer will soon come."

Ned laughed. "Would spring do?"

"I suppose it will," Rhaenys replied.

Tapping on the desk, Rhaegar got to business. "While you will continue your training here under the watchful eye of your uncle, aunt, and cousins, such will not be your only duties. You will help Lord and Lady Stark with the political duties of the North, learn in a safe environment."

"Kepa, muna already teaches me how to navigate in court."

"Teaches. You will be actually participating, and it is better you start here," Ned told her. "Those in the North are… more forthright as a matter of course. Simpler start for you, Rhae."

He had a point. "Will I have a sworn brother of the Kingsguard with me?"

"Aye, your uncle Benjen," her father replied. "He, Ashara, and their girls will also be staying at Winterfell."

"Homesick?"

Rhaegar chuckled. "All Starks yearn for the cold eventually." He leaned back into his chair. "And Margaery Tyrell will be your lady."

She was surprised. "Margaery? Oh gods, kepa, can it be someone else?"

"I thought you two were friends?"

"No, she's Dany's friend… and Sansa's I suppose, both are joined at the hip." Reminded her of Lyanna and Elia, not that there was anything wrong with that. Rhaenys had dallied with girls before when in both Dorne and King's Landing. "But to me I find her annoying."

Rhaegar shook his head. "Well tough, she's going to be your lady."

Rhaenys sighed. "Well… if that's the worst that could happen then I think I'm all set."

The snow-blanketed ground and brown-grey tree trunks passed in a blur, horses going all out along the various tracks and game trails leading out from Winterfell. Not a soul was in sight this far out, and for that Arthur Dayne was grateful. Yes, this was supposedly a hunting trip and with their bows and lances slung over their shoulders… but ultimately it was simply a cover. Return with something for the kitchen staff they would though.

"Aight, whoa! Whoa!" Arthur called out, pulling on the reins. His mount trotted to a halt, as did the one next to him. "I think this is far enough out."

Beside him, Prince Baelon nodded. "Aye, this is a good enough distance." He looked like a consummate Stark, yet no one was under any illusions he wasn't a Targaryen. Arthur had been there to see him emerge from the fire with many dragon hatchlings crawling all over him. "No one will hear us."

Nodding, Arthur sighed. "My Prince, I know you know that it was my idea to take you on this journey."

"My kepa and munas told me it was your idea."

"Right." He hadn't talked to Baelon alone about this, given his preoccupation planning this out with the King and Queens, not to mention Winterfell's preoccupation with the arrival of the direwolves. Therefore, he couldn't gauge what Baelon himself felt about this, and while he was dutiful and would obey Arthur for now, the thought of his pupil resenting him was too much for Arthur to bear. "How do you feel about it?"

Baelon shrugged. "Nervous… excited I suppose, to see the world."

"No, I mean what do you think of the idea?"

"What I think? Honestly, I'm quite happy!"

Arthur blinked. "Truly?"

Jon nodded eagerly. "Aye. To live the experience of my great-grandfather? He became a great King because of it and I'd love to follow in his footsteps."

That was a relief for Arthur. "Good, I'm excited to travel with you as well." That was also the truth - no one could ask for a better pupil than Ser Baelon Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Realm. "But there is much we need to discuss, to plan."

Baelon sighed himself. "Aye, boring but necessary."

"King Aegon, Fifth of His Name, traveled through Westeros alongside Duncan the Tall… that was doable because as the fourth son of the fourth son, he was essentially anonymous." Arthur pinched his chin. "Compared with the likes of Baelor Breakspear or his own father, Maekar, Aegon was anonymous, and thus could pass off as a smallfolk. You, Baelon, are different."

"I am?"

Arthur smiled at his squire - fierce and proud though he was, Jon truly was innocent and that was why Arthur knew there was still plenty of time to mold him properly. "You are the miracle child, the Crown Prince, the union of ice and fire by your birth parents and the self-adopted son of Dorne. Everyone knows of you and will know a black-haired boy with violet eyes."

Jon pursed his lips. "Suppose you're right." He'd snuck out with his kepa a few times to play his lyre and his kepa's harp for the smallfolk, but King's Landing and the significant amount of Lysene traders living there didn't extend to the rest of Westeros. "So where will we go? Free Cities?"

"Aye, free cities." Arthur took out a map from his saddlebag and showed it to Baelon, their horses close together. "A boat from White Harbor will be sufficient, whether direct or stopping in Gulltown, doesn't matter. First, I think Braavos, then down to Pentos and the Rhoyne… and from there to either Volantis or Lys."

"Mayhaps both?"

"Both, why not?" Arthur beamed. "You're a boy after my own heart with adventure."

Jon beamed back. "Dragonriders yearn for adventure, Ser Arthur."

The smile faded slightly. "I just hope you are aware that we will not be taking Valyrax with us… hide a dragon we cannot."

"Ser Arthur…" Jon gave a wry look and then sighed. "Much as it would pain me to be separated from him, I am well aware that for this to work then I cannot bring my dragon." The first time since hatching Valyrax would Jon be without him, and he could just imagine how sad both he and Valyrax would be in regards to that. "However, I think Ghost is small enough to come along."

Opening his mouth to object, Arthur thought on it some more. "He'll be barely a moon old when we leave, and Spirit and Sprinter only achieved true direwolf size after about three years." The beasts grew constantly, though it slowed after hitting year six. "Sure, Ghost can come."

"I can't deprive the pup of proper bonding."

"I understand, Prince Baelon." He leaned back, looking at the sky. "So, you're a homeless Lysene boy, which'll explain the purple eyes. I can be your… erm… uncle, and Ghost is our pup. This can work."

"What will we have to show we're who we really are?"

Arthur smirked. "Don't worry, my Prince. Everyone would recognize Dawn… plus we'll have letters bearing the official seal of your father, not to mention plenty of gold dragons hidden away. Coin talks, trust me on that."

Having grown up without needing to scrounge for anything in that manner, Jon just took Arthur's word for it. "The two of us, me Egg and you Dunk. Jon and Art."

"Jon and Art. Jon and Art." Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "I like that, Jon and Art… knowing Tyrion Lannister or even your father, they'll make a song or an epic poem of this. I'm not much of a writer, but future generations might want a record of what transpires so perhaps keep a journal."

"Hmmm… good idea. I shall." Holding the reins of his mount tightly, Jon grinned from ear to ear. The most glorious time of his life was at hand…

Now all that truly remained was telling Daenerys and Sansa in a manner that wouldn't kill them both. Perhaps Rhae can help?

It was not easy, being the golden-haired heir to Winterfell.

Surrounded in the North with his beloved father and greatly respected mother, Robb had forgotten the few memories of his life in Casterly Rock that weren't idyllic in nature. Spending time with his uncles and aunt, his grandfather's moments of levity that seemed to shock everyone, the moments his mother would kiss him and tell him stories of his illustrious line on both sides… It only got better in the North. He felt more at home here than anywhere, the wolf's blood calling for the cold. Those in Winterfell loved him, and comparisons of his growing looks to his uncle Ser Jaime were compliments.

Robb definitely thought them so, for what better warrior was there than Ser Jaime Lannister? The Lion of Lannister. Turns out Ser Arthur Dayne… and my cousins Baelon and Rhaenys… maybe their uncle Oberyn Martell. But his point still stood.

Not after he arrived in King's Landing from a half-year's fostering in Casterly Rock under his uncle Kevan, to serve as squire to his famous uncle. It was there he learned a dark side to his looks and his comparison to ser Jaime.

Bastard.

A lion, not a wolf.

Mayhaps he was fathered by incest.

The last one hurt the most. His cousin Cella may have been of similar birth but with violet eyes no one could deny her Targaryen blood. Robb though, he looked nothing like a Stark and thus was subject to the vicious rumors of court. Especially that of visiting northmen feeling free from the culture of their home and his father's reputation - they were the worst of them.

Thus was the North like a balm to him. Winterfell, his blood family and sworn household. They loved him and knew he was a Stark. And now, holding Grey Wind in his arms, he was certainly proven to be a Stark against everything.

Part of him wanted to rub it in by going south again, while the other part just wished to remain in the North for the time being, his squireship concluded. Good thing his family decided the latter for him.

A knock on the door drew him from whatever he was doing - truly nothing important. Robb half-expected Baelon or Sansa or Domeric, the ward of Winterfell by choice in awe of the older boy, but the sight of whom was there left him tongue-tied. "Um… uh… hi…"

Giggling, Margaery Tyrell sauntered in and sat on the bed next to Robb. "Hi, yourself." About a year older than the heir to Winterfell, she was quite aware of the effect she could have on boys Granted, she was too young to truly know what to do about it, so here they both were. "I'm sure there's more words that you can speak to me, Robb."

They weren't on friendly terms, not out of lack of desire but simply that Robb could barely speak to her. Wild northern beauty he was used to. Blonde bombshell Lannister beauty he was used to - according to uncle Tyrion, he had it in spades. Even the ethereal Valyrian looks and Dornish sauciness he had familiarity with from every time Dany tried to beat him up and every time Rhaenys succeeded in beating him up.

But the Flower of the Reach was a different, exotic sort of beauty entirely. It took all his composure to manage words. "Aye… there are…" He coughed, wincing internally. "What are you doing in my chambers?"

"Your cousin asked me to come here." Grey Wind tumbled on large paws to Marg, to which she scooped him up and tickled his belly. The direwolf loved it.

Much to Robb's chagrin, but watching it allowed him to calm his nerves. "Which one?"

"Prince Aegon."

A groan. "Of course." He should've known. If Jon teased him it was far more direct. Egg was half-Dornish, so sicking Margaery on him was more up his alley. I'm gonna rub his face in the snow for this. Still though, he was his best friend alongside Jon, Artie Mormont, and Theon. "Why, by the old gods, did Egg send you to me?"

Margaery smirked and smoothed out her dress. It was of Northern cut, which covered everything of her growing body - of this Robb was grateful. Seeing southern-cut dresses emphasize how she developed over the last year was driving him mad. "A new game Baelon and Dany are planning."

"Conquerors?" At Marg's nod, Robb shook his head. "Should've known."

"Aye, but this one seems different. First it's more a catalog all across Targaryen history so it's gonna take a long time. They look to want to make this more of an actual play-fight than just play."

"Hmmm… interesting. I assume I'll be Orys Baratheon again?"

"Alongside Tyland Lannister."

"Ah, a Lannister this time. Nice. And did you get a role… let me guess. Alicent Hightower."

Margaery nodded. "One of them."

"And the other."

She smiled. "Argella Durrandon."

Robb gulped. "Um… I… um…" He was not unaware of the history… of whom Argella ended up marrying. "Um…" Her brown eyes boring in on him, it was close to leaving him melting on the floor in embarrassment.

Praise be to the gods, a silver-haired rescuer arrived in the doorway. "Robb! Your uncle wants you!"

He rose quickly. "Dany!" She looked annoyed, but not angry. "Which uncle?"

"Ser Jaime, now go." Robb was only too eager to escape the utter chaos that Margaery left in him. A quick bow and mumbled goodbye and he was gone, racing out with Grey Wind nipping at his heels. Dany rolled her eyes and approached Margaery. "He likes you, you know?"

"It's quite obvious," Margaery replied.

"Do you like him?" Robb was like a brother to her, and Dany didn't want anyone to hurt him… even her friend.

Margaery shrugged. "He's a good lad, and if he looks like the way Ser Jaime does in ten years, then… mmm." Marg licked her lips.

"Oh gross." Dany shook her head, only to picture Jon looking like a dark-haired version of her brother. Her heart tingled. "Anyway, I need to talk to you… well, Sansa and I need to talk to you?"

"About what?"

Daenerys got in Margaery's face, violet eyes dark and firm. "We will discuss this in front of the heart tree." Margaery's eyes widened, knowing how important such was. "You know what that means."

She nodded. "I do."

"Good. See us there after dinner, once it's dark. Do not let anyone catch you out of your chambers." With that, Daenerys left, leaving Margaery both confused, nervous, and… intrigued about what was to happen.

A/N: Dany and Sansa sure are devious... and all the direwolves! Ghost especially, the bestest boy.

Recap for the wolves:

Lyanna - Spirit (male)

Benjen - Sprinter (female)

Ned - Frost (female)

Rhaenys - Nysar (female)

Aegon - Smoke (male)

Robb - Grey Wind (male)

Jon - Ghost (male)

Dany - Moonlight (female)

Sansa - Lady (female)

This is Sprinter's litter. For those hoping for more wolves for the others, there's Frost's litter coming up :

Till next time.