The Last Wolf and the Northern Dragon

by Alperez16

Two lives are taken and two not, changing the game forever. Jon Snow is raised by his uncle Benjen to be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North while Rhaella Targaryen escapes to Essos to raise her children and plot her revenge.

5. Mothers Contriviances, Babes Innocence

King's Landing 286 AC.

Jon Arryn.

He paced the hall, the sounds inside of the queen's pained screams, were ones that he could barely listen to. Around him, he could see the servants rushing in and out of the room carrying towels and jugs of hot water. The door opened and closed to let them in or out. Other than Jaime Lannister and a servant who'd bear the message to the riders waiting below, the passageway was empty. Robert had taken himself off on a hunt of all things, not even his angered words to his foster son were enough to make him stay and be present for the birth of what could be his son and heir.

So he'd been forced to come up with a damn fool way of letting the king know that the birth had occurred. A message was to be sent from him to the men in the courtyard who'd then ride to the Kingswood and seek the King's party out. It annoyed and frustrated him greatly and yet no word of his had been able to sway Robert from his decision. It had been why when he'd seen the sneer on Jaime Lannister's face when he'd suggested he ride with the king, Jon had relented and sent Ser Preston and Ser Mandon with him instead.

He'd not begrudge a brother worrying over his sister, not even if that brother was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and worried more than that sister's own husband. As yet another scream rang out, he looked to see Jaime move to the door. His hand hovered over the handle before yet another scream forced it to move. Though he wished not to look, his eyes listened to him not and as Jaime entered the room, Jon saw the blood, heard the cry of a babe, and the words that were spoken.

"It's a boy, Ser Jaime, the queen is well but needs to rest," Pycelle said and Jon only concentrated on the first part.

A boy.

A son and heir.

Robert's reign was secured.

Cursing the king for not being here, he looked to the servant and shook his head when the man readied to run to inform the horsemen. He needed more than just the words that Pycelle had spoken and so he waited until the Grandmaester himself left the room and almost had to stop the man from hurrying to the rookery so he could send out the ravens.

"Forgive me, Lord Hand," Pycelle said, stumbling over his words.

"The babe, Grandmaester, tell me of the babe."

"A boy, Lord Hand, as healthy as can be," Pycelle replied, almost seeking to race away still.

"And her grace?"

"The queen is most healthy, Lord Hand, most healthy indeed and I believe she'll be more than able to produce more children in the years to come."

With a nod of his head, Pycelle moved away from him far more quickly than the man normally did. Jon thought the words to be strangely phrased and yet he was far more concentrated on the fact that the queen and the new crown prince were healthy.

"Send word to the King," he said to the servant who hurried away to do as he was bid.

It took a few moments for Jaime Lannister to come out of the room and once again, Jon begrudged the man not. He had no doubt wished to see his new nephew and to make sure his sister was indeed safe and well, something he confirmed to him in far more welcome words than the ones that Pycelle had used. Jaime actually smiled when he spoke of his sister's health and of the babe.

"Her grace is well, Lord Hand, tired but well."

"She of any of us most deserves a rest, Ser Jaime." he said to a nod of the other man's head "And the babe?"

"Seems as healthy as can be, he took to the teat instantly."

"Your sister nursed him already?" he asked, stunned.

"My sister is a remarkable woman, Lord Hand, a remarkable woman."

"That she is, Ser Jaime, that she is. I'll not bid you get some rest, no doubt you'd not listen to me." he said with a chuckle "I'll leave her grace and the prince's care in your hands, Lord Commander."

He walked back to the Tower of the Hand, no that wasn't quite true, he almost skipped back. Lysa and Catelyn's own trouble with birthing babes had made him fear for the queen and the babe she carried. It had taken far too long for her to fall with child and a realm without an heir was an insecure one. Then almost as if the gods had been listening, all three women fell with child at the same time. While Lysa lost yet another one, both the Queen and Catelyn seemed more blessed this time around.

Was he a betting man then he'd have wagered that Catelyn was further along and since Robert was, he actually did. The man seeking and finding a willing foil to accept his bet that his babe would come before his brother's did. Knowing him as well as he did, it would be the winning of said wager that Robert may show more pleasure at. For him though it was the birth of the babe that he took his own pleasure in. Gods knew they could do with some good news that didn't come from the North alone.

He arrived to a quiet set of rooms and looked in on his wife who slept still. Making his way to his solar, he looked forward to the glass of wine he'd have and to the rest of the night's sleep that he'd been denied up to now. Jon didn't make it to his bed and he woke the next morning with a creak in his neck and an empty jug of wine on his table. Cursing himself for drinking so much, he actually laughed loudly when he saw the truth of things on the floor next to his chair. The pool of wine that had been spilled rather than consumed brought him comfort and amusement rather than reproach.

"Better tired than drunk," he said, rising to his feet and calling for a servant to clean the mess up.

His wife and Goodsister were both already up and were breaking their fast when he arrived at the small dining room. Stannis would be about his early morning spar no doubt and he wondered if the news had been broken to the man as of yet. Looking at Lysa and Catelyn it was clear to him that it had not been broken to them and so he readied himself to do just that.

"Good morning, my love. Catelyn," he said as he took his seat at the table.

"You slept not in your bed last night, husband, these late nights do you harm," Lysa said and he nodded.

"Last night I had more reason than not to be up so late." he said as both women now looked curiously at him "The realm now has an heir, the Queen birthed a son last night." he saw the brief look of regret that appeared on Lysa's face before she then looked to her sister who was smiling for true.

"That's great news, Jon. The babe, the queen?" Catelyn asked.

"Are both as healthy as can be, Catelyn. Thanks be to the gods."

"I shall light a candle to the Mother at prayers this morn," Catelyn said.

"The king?" Lysa asked.

"Off on that stupid hunt of his, I swear that man…No matter I've sent word and the bells will soon…."

They rang out loudly, cutting off his words and before they'd finished, Stannis had joined them. While he and Catelyn kept both a manse and rooms in the Maidenvault, more often than not it was with him and Lysa that they took their meals. Something he was most happy about as his wife so enjoyed her sister's company and Stannis, though a dour man, was not as much so as he had once been. After telling the man all he could about his new nephew, Jon finished his meal and went about his work for the day.

He called a Small Council meeting to organize the tourney and feast that Robert would demand. Jon wished to make certain that word had been sent to the entire realm as well and not simply to Casterly Rock. Though both Stannis and Lord Varys tried to bring up more of the normal business of the running of the realm and Pycelle spoke briefly about the North, Jon was in no mood or humor to do any more than this simple thing. The realm had an heir, let that be all that anyone spoke on for a day or two, the North, the Targaryens, and other matters would still be as pressing in a day or so anyway.

It took a full day and night for Robert to return. Jon was aghast to hear that he'd not stopped the hunt and had instead sought the Buck that he'd been chasing for a day. His former foster son spoke to him as proudly of taking that Buck down as he was of now having a son. Though considering he was a father thrice over already, that mayhap should not have surprised him as much as it did. He barely spent any time with his wife or son either, instead, Robert's concern was for his tourney and his feasting and within a week, he was hunting once more. This time the screams that Jon was forced to listen to came from another woman birthing a babe.

"My sister needs me, I should be in there with her," Lysa said as they paced outside Catelyn and Stannis' rooms.

"Do as you must, my love. I'm sure Catelyn will appreciate seeing you," he said and Lysa gave him a small smile before she entered the room and left him alone with his thoughts.

The Arbor 286 AC.

Olenna.

Olenna disliked traveling unless it was for important reasons. Even then she found it tedious and dull and this trip had been just how she'd feared it would be. Yet as the ship docked in Ryamsport, she welcomed being back on her family's island once more. As she did the large wheelhouse and the equally large escort that her daughter and Goodson had sent for her. While she could, and on another day would feel put out that Paxter himself wasn't here to greet her, it only mildly annoyed her today. By the time she was sitting in the wheelhouse and they'd begun their trek to her ancestral keep, even that was dimming.

She enjoyed the solitude of traveling alone even if she didn't have the discomfort of the time away from Highgarden and so she allowed for the quiet in the wheelhouse to indulge herself in her thoughts. Something she'd done more and more on this journey. They had found no favor whatsoever at court, her House, their Bannermen, and the Reach itself were all shut out of any true role in Robert Baratheon's Seven Kingdoms. Though thus far that had been the extent of their punishment for supporting the dragons in the rebellion.

Three years had passed since Rhaegar Targaryen had fallen at the Trident and despite the honeyed words that Jon Arryn would spout when he deigned to speak to them, their support of the losing side had not been forgiven nor forgotten. Which to Olenna's mind showed just how foolish both the Hand of the King and the King himself were. It was one thing to punish those who fought against you, quite another to ostracize them completely. Lords would forgive being forced to pay restitution and they may, for a while at least, still hold to the side they supported, but eventually, they'd seek favor and forget they fought against you. Provided you gave them a reason to that was. Something that Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn had so far very much not.

While Driftmark had meant that they'd not seek out Queen Rhaella too blatantly or too soon, it didn't mean they'd not seek her out. A keen political mind would know this and for the first time, Olenna found herself wishing that Tywin Lannister was the Hand of the King and not just the king's goodfather. The Old Lion was a hard and dangerous man, what he was not was a fool. He'd have reached out by now, sought to bring them back into the fold and in time the dreams she had for her granddaughter would come to fruition under his stewardship of the realm. She feared that they never would under Jon Arryn's.

"Fool of a man," she muttered as the wheelhouse came to a stop and the door was opened by Left or was it Right.

Rising to her feet, she climbed out of the wheelhouse to see Paxter, Mina, the twins Horas and Hobber, and her granddaughter Desmera along with the household all lined up waiting to greet her. She smiled to see her granddaughter and grandsons, as well as her daughter. It had been some time since they'd last visited Highgarden and they'd all grown so very much. All three looked healthy as did her daughter and Goodson. Though Paxter seemed to have aged somewhat to her eye.

"Mother, it's so good to see you," Mina said as they embraced.

"Grandmamma," Hobber said, his brother following as she hugged one and then the other before coming to stand next to Desmera who looked at her and smiled a very pretty smile, even despite the few gaps where her teeth had not yet grown fully.

"I'm so happy to see you all and yes I've brought presents," she said to giggles from her grandchildren and a fond shake of her daughter's head.

Mina walked with her as she was escorted to her room, her daughter wearing a look that Olenna knew all too well. She was happy to see her, that much was clear, yet there was suspicion in that look too. As they reached her room, she wondered if her daughter would be resolved enough to speak to her about that suspicion and found that she was not. Instead, they embraced once again and she was left to get settled and told that they were holding a feast for her later that night.

Entering the room brought back old memories of days long since passed. Though not the same room that had once been hers, it was still one she remembered well from growing up here and most of those memories were fond ones. Deciding not to spend too much time dwelling on the past, she washed her face in the cool water that she had brought to her and then made her way to her granddaughter's room. Olenna was more than happy to see it was her old one that Desmera had been given for her own.

"Gamma, present for me?" Desmera asked the moment she saw her enter the room.

"Of course Sweetling," she said and nodded to Right to go fetch the presents she'd brought for her grandchildren.

Later that night, they feasted and she spoke only briefly about the reason for her visit. Instead deciding to keep most of the truth of it until the morrow. A raven had been sent to Mace to tell her that she'd arrived safely and her grandchildren had enjoyed the presents she'd brought to them, though all three were abed and didn't eat with them. While Paxter spent most of the night looking to her more than once, Mina had put aside her own suspicions about her visit and just welcomed having her there, at least for the duration of the feast.

After a night where she slept comfortably and dreamt of Margaery and the future that she sought for her. A future that she was beginning to think more and more would lead her granddaughter on a path she had once trod herself. She woke, dressed, and broke her fast with her daughter and grandchildren and then spent the early part of the morn watching over them as they took their lessons and then spent some time at play. Desmera she was most pleased to see was very much like Margaery. She was smart and attentive and while she could be a little mischievous, it was endearing rather than annoying, Olenna found.

At some point in the future though she may need to foster her at Highgarden, just to teach her all she needed to know. Yet that was a thought for another day and by the time luncheon was upon them, the true reason behind her visit had to be spoken of. So as she and her daughter ate alone, Olenna began to lay the groundwork for what she hoped would be a welcome future for both her own and her daughter's house. Her words spoken of the North and a potential match raised questions though as she knew they would.

"The North, mother? Truly?" Mina asked with a look of displeasure.

"A thought, Mina, nothing more for now."

"Does the boy even follow the true gods?"

"I know not as of yet, though in the end, it may matter not. I fear our current place in the king's favor may not be as temporary as I hoped it would and so we must seek alliances wherever we can find them."

"But the North?" Mina said even more displeased.

"I'd not seek her wed without more thought on it, Mina. But the boy is to be Warden of the North and the North is rising faster and higher than we at the moment." she said to a small nod of Mina's head "He's Lady Ashara Dayne's child too and the woman is raising him as much as his uncle is. I doubt he'll turn out as northern as s typical Stark."

"He's a bastard though, mother," Mina said with disdain.

"A legitimized one and again, I'm not writing this in stone, Mina, just making the suggestion. Even if it doesn't come to pass, I'd seek us to have some ties with the Starks, see us grow as they do."

"How so?"

"Ships and Trade, Mina, that's where most of the coin the Starks are spending seems to be going to and who knows more of both than Paxter."

Her daughter looked at her curiously before nodding her agreement, though she soon made it clear that it was on the latter point and not the former, for now at least.

"I don't wish my daughter wed to a heathen, mother, Paxter certainly won't. Yet I'm no fool and I can see the merits and opportunities that closer ties to the Starks would bring us. So I'll speak to my husband regarding trade and ships, as for Desmera, she's young and we've much time to see how Jon Stark grows and what sort of a man he becomes."

"Indeed we do."

Three days later she said her goodbyes and the long trek to Highgarden was soon upon her. The North's rise was too much for them to ignore and at the very least, they'd bring more coin into their coffers from dealing with the Starks. In time she believed that Mina and Paxter would come around to her way of thinking regarding her granddaughter too. Desmera married to the Warden of the North, Margaery to Viserys Targaryen, or should things change in King's Landing, Joffrey Baratheon, growing strong didn't seem as far a reach as it had just days before.

White Harbor 286 AC.

Benjen Stark.

He wished not to be here, felt that his place was many miles from White Harbor and yet he knew that he had to do as he was doing. Luwin said that Barbrey was still moons away from birthing their second babe. He'd told him that his wife was healthy and that he'd have more than enough time if he'd left when he did and so Benjen had listened to him, to Ashara, and mostly to Barbrey. From Winterfell to Sea Dragon Point, to the lands of the Gift, and to the Wolf's Lair. As annoyed as he was by this journey, the name that Ser Wendel had given to his holdings still brought a smile to his face.

Now he was finally at White Harbor and this would be the last stop other than the Moat before he rode back to Winterfell and saw Brandon, Jon, Ashara, and Barbrey once more. Hopefully in time to see his second babe be born too if the Old Gods were good to him. He'd been happy enough with what he'd seen on this trip through the North, to see the improvements that were being made and that their coin was being well spent. Roads, Keeps, Glass Gardens, Armor, Weapons, and Ships. Never before was so much going on in their lands and people were thriving because of the added work.

Shipbuilders, tree fellers, farmers, smiths, builders, so many of each were needed that they'd had to seek some from other lands. They'd built two keeps in the Gift, though out of wood not stone and he'd yet to fully decide who he'd name as the lords of them or the rebuilt Queenscrown, which had been the easiest of them all to do. The Wolf's Lair was as impressive a keep as any could be that was built in such a short space of time and the fleet was taking shape. Twenty ships and less than half of them built, the others being sold to him by the Sealord of Braavos which he knew raised questions that he'd somewhat answered.

They had begun work repairing not just the Kingsroad but on other roads between the keeps too, making it easier to travel and to trade, or so Wyman had told him in their letters. He'd more than doubled the number of Glass Gardens in less than two years at Barbrey's suggestion. Food was still what they lacked the most, though through Ashara they'd negotiated a good deal with House Tyrell. As for armor and weapons, the North was better equipped in that regard than it had been even in the Rebellion.

"Are we not risking much by arming ourselves so?" he asked as he, Barbrey, and Ashara sat in his solar.

"Normally, we would be." Ashara replied, "But Baratheon fears the dragons, Benjen, you saw the raven Jon Arryn sent when he heard about the Wolf's Lair, how pleased he was that it was to the east and not the west you looked to first."

"Aye, but.."

"Ashara is right, Benjen. This will only look more of the same and even more so after what Arthur Dayne did."

He knew they were right, both of them had an annoying habit of it and so he welcomed if not always agreed with their advice. This trip being an example of his disagreeing with them. That the things he was doing improved the North and helped protect his nephew allowed for the small voice he sometimes heard to be quietened. The voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Ned's and would name him a traitor to his king would be shouted down by another louder one that sounded like Lyanna and said he was anything but. Or would be quieted by his own voice which told them both he was a wolf too and they did not get to tell him what was the right or wrong thing for him to do.

Seeing the white walls of the city in front of him, he wasn't the only man in his party that found the sight to be a welcoming one. Jory and Harwin like him had their fill of nights in tents and food cooked over a fire, it was a night in a bed and a true meal and ale they wished for. Something they were guaranteed to find plenty of in White Harbor. Word of their arrival had reached the lord by the time they too had done so. The greetings were short on ceremony, which he much appreciated, while the warmth of the New Castle was appreciated even more.

"You had a good ride, my lord?" Wyman asked as they walked back into the keep.

"Aye, but I'm glad to be heading home, Wyman, I fear I…"

"We received no raven, Benjen. I believe you have time still."

"It's in the hand of the Gods, Wyman, if they will it then it'll be so," he said to a nod from the older man.

The food as always was in White Harbor was both plentiful and delicious. Benjen ate his fill, then retired early for the night. A warm wife and a soft bed were each as welcome as the other and though he'd have preferred it to be his own bed in Winterfell, he slept just as comfortably and peacefully in this one. He dreamt of his son, Brandon, of how he'd felt when he'd held him for the first time and how fearful he'd been as he'd heard the sounds of his wife as she birthed him. After he'd seen his son and wife, held him and been convinced that both were well. It had been to the nursery and his nephew that he had gone to. Jon slept with his egg beside him and hadn't been awakened by the sounds that came from down the hall.

"You have a cousin, Jon. A boy to grow with and I pray that you and he will be as close as Lyanna and I were. I know you'll look after him as your mother did me, that you and he will love each other as we did, I both look forward to and fear the mischief you'll both get up to and fear it all the same. But I'll be there for you both, to wipe away any of your tears or soothe any of your hurts. I promise nephew, I swear it on the Old Gods, he may be my son, but your place in my heart is assured."

Waking the next morning, he dressed quickly enough and made his way to break his fast, Wyman and Wylis were both already up along with Jory and some of those who'd ridden with him. After greeting them, eating what once again was a most welcome meal, it was to Wyman's solar that he and the Lord of White Harbor went. Benjen was keen to speak to the Lord about the new trade with Essos and the improvements he'd seen on his journey through the North.

"You met with Wendell?" Wyman asked after they'd taken their seats.

"Aye. The Wolf's Lair is even more than I hoped for and the ships…"

"I've set some to work, Benjen. To help pay for more. Though we were given a deal that staggered even me on those we bought."

"We were?" he asked.

"Aye. It was most strange, Wylis was negotiating and then he was approached by a man from the Iron Bank on behalf of the Sealord himself. It made no sense to me that they'd sell to us, but the ships were sound and good and the price itself was far better than we could have expected elsewhere." Wyman said looking at him curiously "Then the trading agreement was offered and…"

"Trading agreement?" he asked nervously.

"Aye, wood and furs to Braavos and beyond. I at first thought the one to be connected with the other. The ships were used as bait to lure us into keeping our trade with them even after the Sealord's wedding, …but."

Benjen chuckled before speaking again "Anything after the word but is horseshit, Wyman. Speak your mind and don't hold back." he said as Wyman too laughed before getting serious.

"I know about young Jon and the Egg, Benjen. You've done your best to keep the story to those in Winterfell, but the story has spread." Wyman said as Benjen began to tense "That tale you told about him finding it in the Crypts and it being from a clutch laid back before the Dance, 'tis a good one but not one that any who look closely at it would buy for long."

"You naming me a liar, Wyman?" he asked angrily and Wyman shook his head.

"I'm naming you an uncle who loves his nephew, Benjen, nothing more. I'll ask no more if you wish it of me, but you can take comfort that anything you tell me changes my intent, not at all. The North rising is all I care for, and the North rises with your nephew most of all."

He looked at the older man and saw in his eyes that Wyman wished it to be confirmed and it had been something that Barbrey, Ashara, and he had spoken much on. The truth couldn't be kept secret forever, the EGG itself was the least of their issues regarding that. Rhaella may be subtle to some, but each time she intervened and helped her grandson out, for that was what she was doing, more and more questions would need answering.

"I'll have your oath that you'll speak of this to none but your sons, Wyman, not that I don't trust you'd not, but lives are at risk and so I'll have your oath."

"You have it, Benjen. On the Old Gods and the New, you have it."

"Jon's true name is Aemon Targaryen, he's the trueborn son of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Lyanna Targaryen," he said far more softly than he'd intended.

"By the fucking seven, he's trueborn." Wyman declared a little too loudly which he seemed to realize "I mean what I said, Benjen. You have my oath and I'll not speak of this to any but who you've given me leave to." Wyman's words relaxed him somewhat "You mean to crown the lad?"

"NO!" he declared firmly "I'll not fight a war when I've no need to. I can't give him a crown but I can give him the next best thing. He'll be Lord and Warden and I'll do all I can so that should the truth come out, he and we will be ready to protect him."

"And Rhaella?"

"I'll accept help for the North, Wyman, but she's not my queen nor my ally."

"As you say, Benjen. Though she obviously knows the truth of things too and I cannot see her usurping her grandson with her son."

"Usurping? She has no crown, no allies other than the Sealord and Braavos strong though it won't be enough to remove Robert and the Lannisters from the Iron Throne. If she brings war to our shores it'll be one she loses and not one that the North will join her in." Benjen said yet he wasn't sure that Wyman or even himself truly believed his words.

"Let's not speak more on a war that may or may not come. Though I can see now the need even more for the North to be protected and for your nephew most of all. To that end, I believe Rhaella to be behind the visitor who arrived a few days before you did."

"Visitor?"

"A Braavosi swordsman, a most talented one and one I sought to bring into my own service only to find the man sought higher than the Lord of White Harbor to serve. Come, this you need to see." Wyman said, rising to his feet.

Though they still had much to discuss, he did as he was bid and walked with Wyman out of the solar, down the long corridor, and out onto the balcony that overlooked the sparring yard. Below them, a man danced around, disarming both Wyman's men and his own as if they were green boys and not the best swords available to either of them. Ser Marlon and Jory were both beaten in the blink of an eye and the dark-haired man hadn't even broken a sweat to do so.

"He wishes to offer his sword to you, Benjen. I believe to young Jon most of all."

"I'm not taking a Braavosi swordsman into my service."

"This one you should. His name is Syrio Forel, he's the former first sword of Braavos, and knowing what I now know, who sent him is as clear as day."

"If Robert finds out…."

"Aye, but is that not the chance we take with all we do and have done from when your nephew was born?" Wyman asked.

Two days later, he, Jory, and his men, along with Syrio Forel who looked forward to serving as Jon's dance master and protector, rode from White Harbor with Wyman and Wylis waving them off. They were not alone much to Benjen's chagrin. Ashara's brother had sent a knight from Starfall to serve his sister and his, to the realm at least, nephew. That both men knew each other gave him some pause given what Wyman had said, though he'd yet to speak to either properly. Instead, he had concentrated more on his talk with the Lord of White Harbor. Having the clever lord in the loop allowed for so much and Wyman had already begun to add to his plans in terms of trade and improvements. Yet it was the words he spoke to him as he bid him farewell that both comforted and worried him in equal measure.

"The She-Wolf couldn't be stopped from doing what she wished, Benjen, your father, brother, and Robert Baratheon all tried and we saw how that ended. We must make sure the same mistakes aren't made with her son, for I fear for us all if they are."

Braavos 286 AC.

Jon Connington.

Seeing the Titan come into view stirred up very different emotions in him than it once had. The first time he'd ever seen it, he'd barely noticed it. He was broken, defeated, and cared not for anything. Braavos had simply been a stop to make on a journey to where he knew not. Whereas the second time he'd seen it, he'd been filled with hope and expectation. He'd felt a renewed sense of purpose and it was one that he'd prayed he'd see proved true.

Turning to see his traveling companion standing no more than a few feet from him, he wondered what was going through his mind. Was he now feeling that same sense of hope and expectation that Jon himself had felt only two years earlier? Had he too been a broken and defeated man the first time he'd seen the Titan loom large over the bay? Did he expect the welcome he'd receive? And would this one be the one he'd sought two years earlier?

On the latter point, he knew it would. Ser Barristan had proved himself time and time again and had done more to see their company rise than any, other than Ser Bonifer or the Queen herself. He'd taken his exile, accepted the scorn he'd been submitted to, and had simply asked for a chance. Two years it had taken him to be given that chance, and he'd done all that had been bid of him, with nary a question, in those two years.

"She really wishes to see me?"

"She does, I believe your sins are forgotten, Barristan."

"But not forgiven?"

"Not by the queen, no, but Arthur…."

It had been enough, as it would have for him. He'd have accepted scorn and even exile as long as there was a path back to favor. Yet he'd received little of the former and had been welcomed warmly where Barristan was not. He'd been put to work immediately and it was surprisingly, work that he seemed to have a talent for. Far more than he had ever had as a Hand, anyway. As the ship docked, Jon nodded to Barristan and they made their way down the gangplank. Soon they were walking the same streets both had traveled together two years previously.

Two years ago.

For more than a year he'd floundered and almost drank himself into an early grave. Had news not come when it did, then who knows what his fate may have been. Using the last of his coin, he boarded a ship and welcomed the journey as it allowed him to sober up completely. By the time he saw the Titan, he was a different man than he'd been just weeks earlier. Not quite the man he'd once been, but far closer to him than the one he'd since become.

It took him little time to find out where they were houses and he frowned at that. They should be more careful, more circumspect, for the Old Lion and the Stag would not rest until the Queen and her children were no more. He found a tavern to stay in, ate and drank only water and so it was with sober eyes that he soon found himself looking upon a face he knew all too well. Had he still been the drunk he'd become for more than a year, then he may not have recognized the man. As he moved to him, it was clear he was recognized too and with a nod of his head, Ser Barristan bid him take a seat.

"Were you a different man and me a more capable one, I'd gut you where you sit, Barristan." he spat.

"Then I can thank the gods that it was you and not Arthur who was the first to see my face, Jon."

"You knelt," he said disdainfully.

"I did, fool that I was," Barristan replied, his words even more full of disdain for himself than Jon's had been.

"Why?"

"I was lost. After Rhaegar I was lost." Barristan said and Jon could tell the truth of those words and of the expression on Barristan's face, for he too had felt lost after news of the Trident reached him.

"So now what? You think you'll just be welcomed back into the Queen's service?"

"I'm as like to lose my head as that, Jon." Barristan said resignedly "Yet were death to come, I'd welcome it if it was the Queen who judged me guilty."

"Be thankful it was the Queen who escaped and not the King, Aerys would have taken more than your head."

He saw the small nod of Barristan's head and they spoke then of his own reasons for being here amongst other things. When he heard of Driftmark and what had been allowed there, he was shocked and yet not at the same time. Though he was much relieved to find that Lucerys and his family had long left the island. They bid each other goodnight and broke their fast together the next morning before both men made their way to the Manse and were soon face to face with a man they knew well.

"Willem," he said as the former Master of Arms offered him a smile and glared at Barristan.

"Jon."

Barristan wasn't greeted and Willem turned to speak to a guard before asking them both for their arms. He was surprised by how quickly Barristan handed his sword over and though the knight and he were checked, it was clear that the man truly was walking into the dragon's den ready to accept whatever fate awaited him. As they walked, he looked around and was impressed by the number and discipline of the guards. Arthur's work he'd wager and as soon as he thought of him, the man himself appeared, not best pleased at the sight of his former brother.

"Jon." Arthur said and while he greeted Barristan, he didn't do so warmly "Barristan. Both of you need to follow me, her grace will decide if she wishes to see one or either of you and that may not be all she decides this day."

The last part was directed at Barristan and to his credit, the knight accepted it with good grace. He caught a brief glimpse of the king as he practiced against a straw dummy and for a moment, Jon saw another silver prince, an older one. They were led to a room that was heavily guarded and Arthur stood with them as they waited, yet he spoke not at all and it was clear to him that Barristan wished he did and longed to explain his actions. Before he could, they were called to another room and the queen greeted him warmly. Something she did not do with Barristan, not in the slightest.

"I should order Ser Arthur to take your head. If I was my husband, it would be the fire you'd face and though I hate all that Aerys did, a part of me almost wishes to see you burn, Barristan."

"My queen…"

"Am I? Would that you remembered such before kneeling to the man who killed my son, the man who killed your prince, Barristan. The self-same man who lorded over the bodies of my gooddaguhter and my grandchildren. What words did he speak, Barristan? What words did the man you knelt and swore to speak when presented with the bodies of a mother and her children?" Rhaella asked angrily.

"I see no Babes, only Dragonspawn," Barristan replied shamefully.

"Yet this was the man you knelt to! The man you named as your king!" the queen said loudly "Remove him from my presence, Ser Arthur, remove him now lest I become Aerys and lose myself as he did."

Dejected, Barristan was removed from the room and Jon was left to sit there in silence for some time before the queen spoke once more.

"You did not kneel and were not by my son's side only because of my fool of a husband. You seek a place in my service once more?" Rhaella asked, calmly though not yet fully calmed.

"More than anything in the world, my queen," he said and she smiled at him, a true smile and one he'd seen her rarely wear.

"I'll have your oath once more, Jon, and while I feel I've no need to speak the words, speak them I will. Any who play me false will find not the meek woman who cowered at her husband's glance. For that woman died on the Trident next to her son, she died in King's Landing on the day her gooddaguhter and grandchildren were butchered. The woman you see in front of you is not her, Jon, best you understand that now." Rhaella said firmly and he was happy to see that was true.

"I swear my sword, my shield, my very life to you, my queen, to House Targaryen, and to the King," he said after he had risen and then taken a knee.

"And I swear that you'll always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table."

He looked at her as she bid him rise and wondered had she forgotten the last part only to find that she had very much not.

"I cannot pledge not to bring you into dishonor, Jon, for the task I would set you is one that may very well bid of you to put your honor to one side and it's only that the men we face have no such honor that bids me ask this of you." he nodded at her words "I'd name you as my Master of Whisperers, Jon, bid that you establish a network to rival the Spider's own, for only a fool would trust Varys and my days of being a fool are long past."

"I accept gladly, my queen, and will do whatever needs be done."

When he was offered wine, he shook his head, drinking water instead and a few moments later they were joined by Ser Willem and Ser Arthur.

"Well, what do we do with him?" the queen asked and to his surprise, he was the only one who spoke up for the Bold, and even more to his surprise, his words were the ones listened to.

"Killing him brings you naught, my queen. Nor does exiling him completely. Wasting him in some pointless service to you does little either. His place and his sword are by Ser Arthur's side but I know that cannot be, for now at least."

"For now?" Arthur asked.

"Bid him prove himself, task him to do the things that would see it done. In time bring him back to your service and though his crimes can never be forgiven…"

"In time they may be forgotten," Rhaella said softly.

Now.

They entered the Sealord's Palace. His work was done and he now had a network that spanned Westeros and was well on its way to doing so in Essos too. Nowhere was it as extensive as it was in the Reach, King's Landing, and especially the North. Nothing would happen in the North or Winterfell that he didn't know about and in turn that the queen would not. In Essos it had been Barristan who'd forged the network for him, carved it out so that Volantis, Pentos, and Norvos as well as some of the slave cites would report back to him and would do so often.

It had cost blood, coin, and no other man would have been able to see their spies or their handlers as safe as Ser Barristan had been able to do. The knight had forgone his honor in his quest to regain the Queen's good favor. Looking at him, it was clear it had taken somewhat of a toll, and yet later that night as he watched the white cloak being placed back on his shoulders, Jon knew it was a toll he'd paid gladly. As he made his way to his rooms, took his seat at his desk, and readied to read the reports that his spies had sent, he smiled at the thoughts of his king and the boons that had been sent his way.

The first sword of Braavos and a former squire of Rhaegar's that many thought dead. Though not quite the Sword of the Morning or the Bold, both men in their own way would do just as good.

"To Syrio Forel and Ser Richard Lonmouth. To the king," he said as he drained down his mug of water and made ready for his bed.

King's Landing 286 AC.

Catelyn.

She'd believed that she'd held the Mother's favor when she fell with child at the same time as the queen. After so many false dawns when she'd thought she had been blessed only to have her hopes and wishes dashed when her moon blood would come again. So to see her belly swell was a boon to her spirit. Yet that in of itself led to a different set of fears and try as she might, Catelyn could not worry that just like her sweet Robb, the babe she carried would be stolen before its time.

Lysa was a rock to her, even despite her sister's own issues with birthing a babe. Two she'd miscarried already and both of them had bonded much over thus far not birthing an heir for their husbands. A part of Catelyn worried that should she be fortunate enough that her babe was born, it would change things between her and her sister. While another, larger part, was more than willing to accept Lysa's hatred and scorn as long as her babe lived.

Around her, people had celebrated the birth of the new Crown Prince, Joffrey Baratheon the future king of the Seven Kingdoms and she had been one of those who'd done so most gladly. She'd not partaken of the wine or overindulged, but she'd wished the king and queen her best and was happy for them and the realm. And who cared if part of that happiness was the small voice in the back of her mind that told her that her own babe was a girl, a daughter, a future queen mayhaps.

Stannis, unlike his brother, was attentive and did all he could to comfort and relax her. Maester Cressen had come from Storm's End and it was he rather than the Grandmaester who would help her bring her child into the world. Though the king had graciously offered her the Grandmaester's services should she wish it. Catelyn, however, liked her husband's Maester far more than Pycelle though, for some reason the latter seemed less competent or caring to her and so she had not called for him once during these last few weeks. Now, with the birth so close to hand, she wondered if she should.

"Tonight, my lord, the babe will be born tonight." she heard Cressen tell her husband.

"You're sure of this?"

"I am."

"And my wife, the babe, there are no worries you have for either?" Stannis asked worriedly.

"No, my lord. None more so than the normal birthing worries I'd have with any birth."

This may have reassured her husband, but it very much did not her. She'd heard the same while she lay abed in Riverrun, the same words had been spoken and done so in the same manner and they had led only to heartache. Seeing her distress, Lysa moved closer to the bed and offered her words of comfort, though she barely heard them. Instead, she called for her husband to come closer and welcomed the feel of his hand on her own.

"The babe, Stannis, our babe. If the choice needs to be made, you save our babe," she said, squeezing his hand tightly.

"There will…."

"Promise me, promise me that you'll save our babe even at the cost of mine own life," she said, staring into his blue eyes.

"Catelyn…"

"Promise me."

"I promise," he said and she relaxed. "Though I'll see both of you survive this birth and you'll hold our babe in your arms by the morrow, I know this in my heart."

She may have hoped he'd be right, but she cared not. He'd given her his promise and that was more than enough for her to do as she must. So when the pains worsened, she bore them all. Catelyn held in her screams, her tears, and bid her fears to remain just so. When her eyes grew heavy, she fought the sleep that threatened to take her. She'd slept when birthing her sweet Robb and the Stranger had stolen into the room to take him from her, she'd not do so with this babe.

The pain was almost unbearable, the sight of the blood certainly was and so she looked away as much as she could. Around her, Maester Cressen and the servants went about their work. Hot water was brought and used for she knew not what. Cloth was used to wipe up the blood that came from her and she wondered how anyone could survive losing so much of it. She believed she'd dropped off more than once, as much as she'd fought not to. Things had changed around her too quickly for that not to be true. People, the light, the number of bowls of water both hot and cold, and the expression on the faces of Cressen and those who helped him, were all much different than they had been mere moments before.

"My babe, where is my babe?" she asked worriedly only to be told that the birthing had still yet to occur.

At one point she swore she saw a dark figure standing in the corner, a smile on its face that chilled her to the bone. The Stranger was with her in this room tonight, the voice in her head told her.

"BEGONE!"

"BEGONE!"

"YOU'LL NOT HAVE MY BABE! NOT AGAIN!"

She shouted the words out loud and barely heard Cressen as he tried to speak to her. It was not until he told her to push that she did hear him and she did as she was bid, again and again. Once more she passed out from the pain and exertion and once more she awoke in a panic, only for the truth of the Mother's favor to be revealed to her.

"Your daughter, my lady," Cressen said as he handed her the most precious little bundle she'd ever held in her life.

Her daughter looked up at her with bright blue eyes, Tully Eyes, Baratheon Eyes. On her head, the dark black hair looked far too plentiful for a babe and felt soft to her touch. When she saw her smile at her, Catelyn felt her heart soar. As she did when she played with her fingers and brought them to her tiny little mouth. So enraptured was she by the babe she held in her arms, that she didn't hear her husband's entrance nor what the Maester had said.

"I must feed her, she must be starved," she said when her daughter began to suckle on her finger.

"If you believe you can, my lady," Cressen said and she nodded vigorously.

Stannis turned from her when she bared her breast. Her husband was no prude when they were alone in their bed, but here he seemed to have turned into one. It took some time for her daughter to latch onto her teat and then she felt it when she began to drink. Holding her in her arms, looking deep into her bright blue eyes, neither solidified the bond she felt with her babe as much as this did. She felt it grow ever deeper with each swallow and once her daughter had eaten her fill, she brought her wind up much to the Maester's delight.

"Our daughter, Stannis. Our daughter," she said happily as Stannis moved to take a seat by the bed.

"She's perfect, my love, she and you, both of you are more than I deserve."

"Cassana, I wish to name her Cassana after your mother."

The look he gave her was one so full of emotion that she almost had to do a double-check to make certain it was her husband she was seeing. Stannis at times showed his emotions and while he was a hard and stern man to most, never had he been so to her. When they were alone or amongst people that her husband actually liked, the few of them that there were, he'd show her a side of himself that few ever got to see. Yet that compared to this was to see a stone statue come to life.

"You honor me so, my love. You honor me indeed."

It was hard to allow Cassana to be laid down for the night. To say goodbye to her even though she'd be in the same room and would wake in no more than a few hours. She heard both Cressen and Stannis say that she needed her rest as much as her babe did, yet she wished not to sleep. So when they'd left, she rose from the bed, uncomfortable though it was, and made her way to the small crib. Her eyes sought and found her daughter's own before they both slept for the night.

"I promise you the world, Sweetling. I promise that you'll have everything you ever wish for or need. I promise to love you with all my heart for every single day of my life. I promise that one day you'll sit on the throne as queen. I promise on the Mother and the Father, the Smith and the Warrior, the Maiden and the Crone, and on the Stranger too."

Braavos 286 AC.

Rhaella.

She looked over the papers, happy to see that their coin had increased by as much as it had. Lucerys had put their fleet mainly to work as trading ships, the man happy to be Corlys come again and in time, just as the Sea Snake had, he too had plans to see House Velaryon rise high indeed. Given what had been done to Driftmark, she'd not begrudge him earning as much as he could while his true duties were not yet upon him. Rhaella had even increased his share of their profits, both to show him that she would keep her promise to him and to ensure his loyalty remained unquestioned.

Taking up the next piece of parchment, she smiled when she saw the words written in such a familiar hand. Bonifer always wrote so perfectly and though his words were eloquent, they were direct as well. The Holy had brought much coin to their coffers, even if initially she'd taken none of it. Instead leaving it to be used to build a barracks and to arm, armor and see that the Holy was as well equipped as the Golden Company.

While they were and probably would never match the number of swords that Bittersteel's sellswords could call upon, they were well on their way to being mayhap the second largest of the sellsword companies in Essos. They were large enough to take contracts now that they'd not been able to merely a year ago, which had meant that more and more coin came their way and so hers.

Her last pieces of paperwork to look over were to her the most interesting of all, not that she didn't find news of their ships or men interesting. Yet compared to news of Westeros, news of her grandson, she'd be a liar if she said that her heart didn't beat that much faster when she looked over Jon Connington and the Spider's whispers. Both to see if they complimented or contradicted each other and to simply read as much about her grandson as she could. Only the one of the two men being fully aware of Aemon's existence meant that the latter of the two men's reports would be more general than personal. First, though she read through the reports that dealt with the practical and not the personal.

The realm has its heir, my queen. Prince Joffrey is a healthy babe though not of the king's line. Instead of the union of lions.

'Jaime, you fool.' she sighed as she continued to read the Spider's words.

The House of the Stag welcomes another child too, Cassana Baratheon, daughter of Stannis and Catelyn Baratheon.

She smiled at the name. Even despite the betrayal done to her house by Steffon's son, she still remembered Lady Cassana fondly and while she'd see Robert Baratheon in the ground before she breathed her last, she was not him nor Tywin Lannister. Children shouldn't suffer the sins of their parents or grandparents, for they were all innocent in the eyes of the Mother, and Rhaella was a mother too.

House Tyrell continues to remain out of favor and finds no support in the court, not even the Lord Hand's words are enough to make the Stag relent in his outward hatred for those who supported the House of the Dragon. Dorne too holds no favor, though it seeks none either.

The words brought a nod from her, it was as she'd expected given Driftmark, and while she feared for those who'd supported her House and that they may be weakened or worse, embittered, it helped their cause greatly too. She skimmed over the Spider's words on the Vale and Riverlands, finding nothing of true interest there, and other than some talk of discontent in the Iron Islands, something that was as natural as rain, she moved past those words too. Finally coming to the words that she had longed to read.

The North rises high and under its regent, quickly. Ships, trade, new keeps, and roads may help prove it to be even more formidable in the future than it was during the rebellion itself. My counsel on removing the young lord is no longer an option either, as the regent is both young enough, liked enough, and his wife, fertile enough, that other than removing a potential betrothal option with the crown, there is no benefit to be had in the death of young Jon Stark.

The Spider had almost signed his own death warrant with that suggestion. Had it not been for Arthur and Jon's calm when she was anything but, he would breathe no more. Their words had won out over her fears and her instructions had been clear and left no room for doubt. To kill a child was a step too far and not one she'd countenance had been what she'd told him when he spoke those words. Arthur and Dawn being unsheathed as quickly as it had, was more than enough to emphasize her point. With the last of the Spider's correspondence read, she turned to Jon Connington's.

House Darry and the other loyalists drink toasts in secret, their fear over their keeps being left as Driftmark not giving them the luxury to do so more publicly. The Usurper's message was not received in the manner he'd expected and time and events have only made that even more so. Word has spread of Ser Barristan's place by your side, songs have been sung of a king who named a prince a rapist yet condoned the same against those he named his enemies.

"Good," she said and read on.

Dorne speaks little and holds its true intent close. Your words to them have both been accepted and not and Prince Doran's mind is as hard to fathom as it always was. I pray we tread carefully with the Snakes, my queen, for one never knows when or where they may strike.

The Vale remains behind the Usurper and the Falcon, though the lack of an heir makes it worry about the future too. Our allies there say it's to Ironoaks and the House of the Broken Wheel, that we should look and that coin as ever is the weakness the lady of said house can find no solution to. I sense opportunities in the mountains too, though these would only be a secondary option and one that will take years to cultivate.

House Tyrell and the Lords of the Reach, speak the right words and bow when appropriate, but do so reluctantly. Though I worry about the Queen of Thorns' ambitions now that an heir has been born to the Usurper, even given what we know about said heir.

The Reavers seek what they always seek, my queen. Though Balon is not his father's son and he seeks it more than most. With the right push and enough time, they could provide a use, though a distraction at most.

It is as you suspected with the Crown Prince, his green eyes and blond hair both name his father for who he is and who he is not. Ser Jaime's devotion to his sister and his wishes of being a famed Kingsguard both combine to turn him into the Dragonknight and Cersei into Nerys, though I doubt he'd take a blade aimed at the king he serves.

Jon's words were bitter when it came to Jaime Lannister and while she didn't agree with them, she understood them. Not even her own words on how Aerys was not a man worthy of any degree of loyalty and that she blamed Jaime not for killing her monster of a husband were enough to change how most saw him. Yet she saw the young scared boy who sought fame and acclaim and to serve an order and a king that were both not what he believed them to be. She saw Joanna's son where they only saw Tywin's. Turning her mind from that for now, she smiled upon seeing the words she truly wished to.

The king is strong, my queen, smart, and cleverer than a boy his age has a right to be. Those around him dote on him and his guardians should be by his side as you read these words. Just as the princess, he too rests with an egg as his closest companion, and just as she, he too shows signs of growth in most things. I doubt not that this will be true when it comes to his lessons both in and out of the yard too, my queen.

The lands that are his to rule over, they too grow as the king does. The Northern Fleet numbers more than twenty ships and the lands of the Gift have two new lords while the great keep of Moat Cailin is under repair. Yet it's not just in the external that the North rises, but in the internal too. Glass Gardens have been built and more ordered, the Gift has seen its first crops harvested and the roads between keeps have been repaired and rebuilt when necessary. As for the House of the Wolf, the lady is with child once more and the king should have yet another cousin to grow with within a moon of this letter's arrival.

The truth we wish undisclosed remains just that, my queen, and the choice Ser Arthur made is one I can no longer fault. In time not only will the king be trained in the running of a large kingdom as all kings must, but given the rapid improvements that are taking place in the North, one that will rival any in all aspects.

It relieved her greatly to read the words about her grandson, as it did those sent to her from Ashara and Maester Aemon at the Wall. Knowing he too had a dragon's egg that he slept with brought a smile to her face, as did the knowledge of what that meant for him. She'd seen it herself with Daenerys and the books in her husband's library had confirmed it. While not the same with Viserys and lesser with her, the magic held within the eggs, or the dragons that lived inside them, had an effect on those with magic in their own blood.

Her daughter was walking and talking long before she should have. She'd look at her with eyes that showed she took in far more than the eyes of a two-nameday old babe should and the things she drew would leave her breathless. The dreams that Rhaella would sometimes have, that she knew Viserys would have, as well as the drawings her daughter produced showed that she too had those dreams. Dragons flying in the sky with them all on their backs, silver hair flying behind them as a dark-haired man flew in front. A man she was certain was her grandson and even were she not, Daenerys she knew was even more certain than she.

"Em's mama."

Her mind shook the memory of Daenerys' words from it and she refused to follow the thought down the rabbit hole it was to lead her. Instead, she rose to her feet and readied for the day ahead. She moved back into her bed-chamber and watched as her husband slept still. Her hand brushed over the small swell of her belly and the babe she carried. A son or daughter that she'd not expected and that Daenerys had been the first to alert her to. Dressing quickly, she moved to the door and opened it to find Ser Barristan and Qarro Volentin both on duty. The Kingsguard followed her while the First Sword waited for her husband.

"My daughter and son are awake, Ser Barristan?" she asked and the knight nodded.

"Both have just been taken to break their fasts, my queen, the little princess was with the septa and Marel."

"And my son?"

"With Ser Arthur, my queen."

They walked down the corridor, the knight at her back and she didn't need to look at his face to see how happy he was that this was now his place. For two years she'd refused him leave to be what he was, instead setting him to work to help Bonifer build the Holy. Many times in those two years she'd set him tasks both to prove his faith and to see if the gods favored him. A lesser man would have died and yet, each task had been completed and his valor shown time and time again. She may never fully trust him as she did Arthur, Willem, or Jon Connington, but in guarding her back, her children's backs, in time her grandson's back, in that he was as faithful as any.

"Mother," Viserys said, trying to sound older than his nine years.

"My son," she said, kissing his forehead and trying to chuckle when he pretended not to like it as much as she knew he did.

"MAMA!" Daenerys excitedly moved from Morel's arms to run to her own.

"My special little girl." She said lifting her daughter up and kissing her cheek repeatedly, her daughter giggling loudly as unlike her son, she felt no need for mummery.

"Ems fell, Mama, ouchie but Ashie kissed better." her daughter said as Rhaella sat down with her on her lap.

"How did he fall, Sweetling?" she asked as their food was placed in front of them.

"Over Egg, Mama. Ems fell over Egg."

She looked at the frown on her daughter's face, on the curious look on Viserys' and the worried one on Ser Arthur's, a small nod of her head enough to tell the knight to speak to Jon Connington and to find out the truth of her grandson's fall. Be it dragon dreams or the magic within the dragon eggs, she'd no doubt that her daughter's words were true. In time she'd get the truth confirmed and as Arthur moved to do as she'd bid, she called him back.

"Have him ask about the dreams again, Ser Arthur, we need to know if it's just Daenerys or if Aemon dreams too."

"I'll see it done, my queen."

They ate and no more was said about her grandson or her daughter's dreams. Yet even as she went about her day and later that night as her husband slept and she did not, her mind pondered the question of just what she'd do if it was only her daughter who dreamed.

Winterfell, 286 AC.

Barbrey Stark.

Her feet hurt as she walked around Winterfell's larders with Maester Luwin in tow. She would rather be in her bed, resting her swollen ankles, and finding a good position for the babe to stay so it would not press on her bladder, but it was not meant to be. Soon her husband would be back and she had to check on everything so that she could make a detailed report for him upon his return.

It would have been easier to let the Maester do it by himself, as he had proved himself trustworthy in the years he had been in Winterfell's service. Luwin had assisted Nan with the birth of her son, her pride and joy, and had since cared for him as he did Jon. But it had been her duty given by her husband to act as Lady Regent for their nephew, and she took her role even more seriously ever since she had learned the truth.

"The larders are full, as you can see, my Lady. Thanks to the salt and spices we received, we managed to preserve most of the meat from the last hunting party and the horse meat sent by your father. Wintertown workers too have brought their share of grain to the granary."

"Good. How about the neighboring keeps?" she asked.

"They too have used the salt that was distributed and enjoyed being able to preserve their meat. Your suggestion of sharing some of our reserves of salt has been more than welcome, my Lady."

She nodded, internally proud for having thought of it. Ashara had suggested keeping the salt they'd received from their Essosi trade, as well as the meat, and to send to the towns when they would ask for it in time. Barbrey though had thought it better to share the salt so as to foster better relationships and to send the message that Winterfell saw them as capable as they were with the resources they provided. It seemed she was right to do so if Luwin's indication were to be believed.

They soon walked to Benjen's solar to talk about the last raven they had received. Part of her wanted to go back to bed as it hurt her back to stand or sit, and she wanted to cuddle and spend some time with Jon and Brandon, who to her delight couldn't bear being separated. She rolled her eyes and smirked as she spotted Wylla running toward the nursery. Soon Ashara would come her way and would insist on being there at Jon's behest. She always granted her request, not wanting to look as if she wanted to usurp her nephew by shaming his supposed mother. Yet she had made it clear to Ashara that she would make the decisions as she spoke for Jon's Regent.

"Will you at least listen to my counsel as he does, fairly, Barbrey?" Ashara had asked her the first time Benjen had tasked Barbrey to rule in his stead.

"Aye, I will. As long as your ideas don't put my nephew at risk, I will hear your suggestions and give you my honest opinion."

"My goal is not to hurt Jon, Barbrey."

"But you might do so without realizing. I know you care for him, but there are people you are far more loyal to than him and his deceased uncle." she pointed out and the way the Dornish woman tensed at those words proved her right.

Ashara Dayne might have loved Brandon as Barbrey did, but she was not acting out of that love. She was not protecting Jon out of her affinity with the Starks, but for a chance to get the North to follow Jon for a Targaryen restoration.

As predicted as she neared the nursery, Ashara appeared and Barbrey barely had time to look at the two boys playing in the room. Jon had instantly taken a liking to his cousin and Barbrey was glad for it. The little Lord would stare longingly at them when Barbrey fed her son, plopping next to them and praying to the Old Gods to make Brandon walk soon so he could make him discover the Godswood. Jon was so attached to his cousin that he lost some of his interest in Egg as soon as he was born, which turned out to be a relief for Benjen and all those in the know. Little Brandon returned it in kind, so much so that her son followed her nephew everywhere, every time. At first, Barbrey worried that they would not accept the new babe, but she quickly was proven wrong when the two little rascals decided to create a space for them in the nursery.

Once more she longed to join them, to play with them and spend some time with them, but there was a lot to do.

"How are you feeling, Barbrey?" Ashara asked as they walked to Benjen's solar.

"I think the time is near. I can feel the babe more and more and they're certainly ready to be out. Part of me wishes it comes soon for I don't think I will miss the pressure on my bladder in the moons to come, but -"

'Benjen will return soon." Ashara said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He will be there for the birth."

"I hope so. Truly." she smiled. They might not see eye to eye on everything, but in the two years Ashara spent with her in Winterfell, they had truly learned to be cordial to each other.

Taking a seat, something she was glad of, she readied to read the ravens and correspondence.

They'd received news from all parts of the Seven Kingdoms and Barbrey couldn't help but scoff upon seeing news of the birth of Catelyn Baratheon's daughter. Knowing that the woman had tried to claim Winterfell for herself after Ned Stark's death hadn't put her in Barbrey's good books. Not that she'd ever been in them truth be told. But poor Benjen might have been obligated to wed his brother's widow had Hoster Tully not already played that card with his brother, and she was most happy that it didn't happen.

"A raven from the Moat arrived on behalf of Lord Reed," Luwin informed, making her and Ashara tense. "He wanted to inform the Lord of Winterfell of the birth of his son and heir Jojen, and to renew his vow of loyalty to Jon Stark."

"Great news, Maester." she sighed with relief.

"From House Wull. It seems that they are ready to mine more stone for the upcoming keeps."

"Benjen will be glad to hear it when he returns." she smiled.

"News from Bear Island too, my Ladies. '' he continued. "Maege Mormont announces that they have broken another Ironborn attack in their lands, and that… Oh…"

"What is it Luwin?" Barbrey asked, suddenly anxious.

"She has given birth right after their raid, to a girl named Lyra Mormont."

"Of course she did!" Barbrey chuckled. "This is Maege we're talking about!"

"But, my Lady, isn't she… Unmarried?" Luwin asked prudently, making Ashara gasp in shock.

"She is a Mormont, a She-Bear of Bear Island, and if you suggest her daughter is a bastard, I will wholeheartedly suggest you not to say this in front of her."

"How?"

"An accord between the She Bears of Bear Island and the Warden of the North allows any female of House Mormont to give their children their house name when the Head of House Mormont is without a direct heir." she simply explained. "Jorah Mormont still has no heir, so she is using this rule to name her children. I doubt she'll stop anytime soon."

"Does the King know about this?"

"The previous kings never cared about the North and what was done by its Warden. As long as the North pays their taxes, why should it be different now?" Barbrey scoffed and frowned at Ashara's smirk, realizing much later that she had unconsciously criticized Robert Baratheon.

"The king cared about Ned Stark." Ashara insisted.

"But Ned Stark is no more."

"Yet… His son remains." Luwin stuttered, making Barbrey look at him suspiciously. Did he know something? Were they too careless in the way they handled things in Winterfell?

Ashara seemed to catch on to the Maester's behavior too, for she responded quickly, leaving no room for doubt in her answer.

"Yes, and I am glad for all the boons the King bestowed my son despite me being his mother. I hope Jon will soon be able to show that those gifts were not given in vain. The North is already growing, thanks to your help and your expertise, Maester Luwin."

"I… Most of the suggestions I have given came for Maester Aemon's studies on the North, my Lady."

"Are you close with the Maester at the Wall, Luwin?" she asked curiously.

"We… We correspond a lot about what to do next for the North since its Warden has always greatly helped the Watch and they hope Lord Jon would continue to do so. Apparently, only the North and the Crown have given their due in taxes to the Night's Watch in the last ten years, and the Crown itself has stopped funding them after the Rebellion…"

"The South cares not about the Wildlings trying to cross the Wall. Only the North suffers because of it." Barbrey pointed out. "So I believe our growth in prosperity would be seen as beneficial for the Watch?"

"Indeed, Lady Stark."

"If all of our interests align, I do not see any harm in consulting Maester Aemon," Ashara said, trying to stay nonchalant.

"I agree." For now, Barbrey wanted to add but kept her opinion to herself.

"We received an invite to King's Landing, addressed to Lord Jon and his Regent to celebrate the birth of Prince Joffrey Baratheon." Luwin continued making both women tense.

"Jon is too young to endure such a trip, and I do not think it appropriate to have him attend a tourney." Ashara declared.

"King Robert expresses his desire to see Ned's son and brother. His words, not mine, my lady" Luwin said.

"We can send word to some of the Lords of the North so they could represent our lands, but I don't think my husband would agree to go to a tourney," Barbrey said, cringing as she thought of the last tourney her husband went to. "Let us wait for Benjen's answer to this request."

"Very well, my Lady. We also received another trade request from the Arbor."

"Why would the Arbor wish to trade with us?" Barbrey frowned.

"They are looking for wood, my Lady, to create barrels for their wine. It came along with another more strange request. From Highgarden this time." he said, giving the message to Barbrey for her to read.

She stood up quickly, only realizing her mistake when her body responded to the sudden move. Barbrey was then immediately surrounded by Ashara and the Maester and nodded at their concerned looks and even suffered their questions.

"I am well, the babe is simply acting up," she reassured them. "Why would the Tyrells suggest such a thing?"

"You've done enough today, Barbrey. Highgarden's proposal and the rest can wait." Ashara said softly.

Barbrey shook her head but a sharp pain in her lower back silenced her protest. The sheer force of the pain radiating through her body scared her, and so she gripped Ashara's hand to steady herself. Thankfully, the woman never let her go and helped her to her room as soon as Barbrey was able to walk.

Fear almost overtook her when Maester Luwin examined her and informed them that she would probably give birth in the upcoming days.

"Benjen won't be here in time…" she lamented.

"He will. Luwin will send a raven and he'll ride to you as fast as he can. You know how stubborn he is. He will not miss it for anything. If anything, he would ask you to hold the babe in until he arrives." Ashara chuckled and Barbrey did the same before remembering what happened in the solar.

"Was it you?" she suddenly asked.

"Me?"

"Did you suggest the Tyrells reach out to us again?"

"What do you mean?" Ashara repeated, seemingly lost.

"With the trade with the Arbor and more to come with House Tyrell, they asked for us to foster Loras Tyrell when he will be older," she said to a gasp from the other woman.

"I… No, I have nothing to do with this, Barbrey. I swear."

"They were Targaryen supporters. Are probably still…"

"It would make sense for them to reach out to us if they were in the know, but as far as I am concerned, they aren't."

"Are you sure?"

"I… I will ask." Ashara ended with a sigh. "You shouldn't worry about this now. You are about to give birth."

"How could I not? Jon's safety is at risk, Ashara!"

"And you will do him no good if you cannot focus on you and your child's wellbeing." Ashara retorted sternly. "Do you want me to bring the boys to you?"

Barbrey nodded, thankful for the woman's thoughtfulness. She felt guilty for suspecting her of hiding a plot with the Reach. Over the years, whatever disagreement they had, Ashara had always been straightforward in her plans and suggestions regarding Jon. She could not say the same for Rhaella Targaryen, who since she had wedded the Sealord of Braavos had not stopped finding ways to make her grandson's wealth grow. While Barbrey understood and welcomed the sentiment, she couldn't help but feel wary of the former Queen's involvement in Northern affairs, a sentiment she shared with Benjen.

She smiled as she heard the boys arrive before they opened the door, their laughter and loud steps warming her heart as well as the bright smiles they gave her when they barged into her room.

"Ma!" Brandon happily called her as he climbed on her bed, while Jon waited carefully for her permission to do so.

"Mo'er said babe was coming…" Jon said, looking at her with concern.

"Aye, sweetling, your cousin will soon be with us," she answered, smiling softly and caressing his cheek.

"Jon says we guard your door, Ma!" Brandon said.

"Unle Ben said we have to. We are the men of the keep." Jon added, proudly imitating Benjen with his thick Northern accent.

"Indeed you are, my Lord." she chuckled at the boy's antics.

"So we guard you until babe arrives."

"It might not be today, though. It might take days for the babe to arrive," she said, hoping both to be right and wrong.

"DAYS?" Brandon whined. "I want babe out now!"

"No, the babe has to wait. Unle Ben has to come back." Jon countered, making Barbrey's heart pang with sadness.

"I will do my best to wait for your uncle, Jon. But the babe might not want to wait…"

She barely kept her tears at bay as the boys went to her belly, asking for the babe to wait a little bit more so they would meet their father first, and the kick they gave in return felt like a positive answer to their request. Then she prayed to the Gods for her husband to come back soon.

Barbrey stayed in bed for three days, not daring to move and enjoying the reassurances of Luwin and the care of Ashara and Nan, who brought her food, sweets, and the boys to brighten her days. At least until the pain became unbearable and she felt her water break. She cried out in pain and sadness, knowing that her husband would hate himself for not being present for the birth of their second child. He hadn't left her side when Brandon was born, going against everyone's wishes but her own, to hold her hand and stay with her until she could hold the baby in her arms.

"I'm the one who put them here, I should be there to help you get them out" he had said sheepishly, making her smile at his simple words who meant a lot to her.

When the room opened as she was about to push, she cried some more, with relief this time, as it was to see Benjen running to reach her.

"It took you long enough, Benjen Stark!" she said through gritted teeth.

"You're the one to blame, wife. 'Do not worry, Ben, you will have time to travel and I will still be days away from giving birth!' What a load of horseshit."

"Gods, you reek!" she retorted, grabbing his hand for support.

"Excuse me for not having time for a bath, woman!" he said and she would have chuckled if not for the pressure building in her lower side.

"My Lady, it is time. You have to push once more." Luwin said and she did, thanking the gods for granting her wish.

They were all in awe as they stared at the babe. Her little daughter would surely be the jewel of the North, if not just her family. Barbrey couldn't help but feel her heart soar with happiness while rocking her girl in her arms. She had named her after more than one argument with Benjen who had finally relented after understanding her reluctance to name her after someone she disliked.

"I will not name her Lyanna. Not her, nor any other girl I might birth later."

"You named our son Brandon. You chose to name him after my brother because you loved him. Why can't I name our daughter after the person I miss the most?" Benjen asked, visibly hurt.

"You think I did this out of love?" she scoffed in disbelief. "You suggested we honor your family. Brandon was the only name I could agree to because I don't want to honor your father and certainly not your other brother!"

"You resent them still? After all these years?"

"The North Remembers, Benjen Stark, and I am of the North. I remember the slights, and I remember the role Lyanna had in the fate of Westeros. I may not hate her for that, but I will never love her as you do."

"So… How should we name her?"

Barbrey took a look at her perfect little girl, whose Stark grey eyes and a small tuft of brownish hair reminded her of the first time she held Brandon in her arms, as they looked the same. The love she had felt then was equal to the one she felt at this moment. They were her pride of joy, her family, and only one person had made her feel that way before. One person that left way before her time and that she mourned still.

"Bethany."

"As you sister?"

"Aye. Bethany is the perfect name for her. She was kind and intelligent, and I want to honor her memory."

"Bethany it is, then…" Benjen replied, kissing her on the forehead, and she would swear she felt her heart melt at that moment.

She had no doubt that Bethany Stark would be looked after by not only her father but also her brother and cousin who she had already got wrapped around her little fingers.

Barbrey had insisted on keeping her girl near her and nursing her as she had for Brandon. So enamored with little Bethany, Jon was, that he offered to give her Egg so that she could sleep better, only to be refused by Barbrey and Benjen. Neither of them wanted to make the keep's servants talk more than they should. Instead, they relented to have him stand guard with his cousin as they both had done before she was born. While Brandon quickly grew bored and soon came inside to see his little sister, it took more convincing on all their parts for Jon to relinquish his post.

So young and already so caring… Barbrey thought fondly before worry came over her. His attachment to family could be a boon or it could become a weakness. What would happen when he would find out the truth about the Targaryens? Would he think of them as fondly as he did Brandon and Bethany? Would he wish to protect them, to fight for them if they asked it of him? Were it not for the smile on Bethany's face and the sound of the laughter of both her boys, she'd have followed her thoughts to where they led her, instead, for now, she concentrated on what was in front of her and worried not on the future.

Winterfell 286 AC.

Ashara Dayne.

Seeing Barbrey and her daughter in good health was as much a relief as it had hurt by tugging at Ashara's wounded heart. The babe had definitely gotten the Stark looks, the small curls on her head reminding her of her own child. Her Alysanne who she could only hold for a few days in her arms before she passed.

The last years had been hard on her. She still had to face mistrust and scorn in a keep that had welcomed her supposed son. simply because of her name. As much as she wanted to react and rage at them, she knew she couldn't. Her role was to protect Aemon's identity, whatever the cost until he was ready to take back what had been his since his birth. Yet she had realized in the years that she had lived in Winterfell, that Barbrey had been right in many ways when they'd talked before her wedding.

No matter how much she wanted them to see her as Jon Stark's mother first, she would always be Arthur Dayne's sister to a lot of them. Many Lords didn't even hide their disdain for her when they visited, and the King's hatred for her had made her an easy target for mockery and scorn to those who fought and bled with him during the Rebellion. How many times did she hear things about Rhaegar's death at the Trident? Or Arthur needing to pay for Lyanna's abduction and Ned Stark's death? The truth was she couldn't or wouldn't bother counting. Instead, she endured them all, all for the sake of her King.

Ashara was grateful to be able to count on Benjen, Old Nan, and Wylla to motivate her on the days that she felt she couldn't bear any more veiled insults thrown at her and had also found an ally in Barbrey Stark, against all odds. She remembered the first time the lady had stood up for her after finding out the truth about Aemon.

She'd been standing with Jon in the courtyard, ready to greet some of the Lords from the Mountain Clans. They barely acknowledged her, while greeting her supposed son warmly and making him smile as she held him in her arms. When she joined them in Benjen's solar to assist with their meeting later that night, they couldn't contain their anger at her presence.

"What do you think you're doing? Why is she coming in here?"

"Ashara Dayne is my nephew's mother," Benjen answered simply

"You are your nephew's Regent, The Benjen. Barbrey is your wife, and she is from the North. As for her, she has no business being present during Northern talks."

"She has been the one behind most of the suggestions to help the North prosper." Benjen retorted. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have been given the Gift back, and if I'm not mistaken, you're benefiting greatly from the crops that have since been planted there."

"We would have survived without." the large man said arrogantly.

"Still, your life is getting better, and that is thanks to her counsel," Benjen said more firmly.

"Are you a man or still a boy needing a woman's approval, Benjen Stark? Is that how the North is ruled, now? With a Dornish whore -"

"I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you, Big Bucket." Barbrey, to Ashara's surprise, intervened. "This Dornish whore, as you say, is the mother of your Liege Lord. What do you think would happen if the Warden of the North hears how you insult his mother?"

"He's a babe -"

"Who will grow one day and rule over these lands. Would you let someone insult your mother? Do you think you will live to tell the tale after doing it? Because I do not. Why wouldn't he ask for your head after you so blatantly disrespect the woman who gave life to him?" Barbrey retorted harshly.

"He… I"

"I think an apology would suffice, Lord Wull," Benjen stated placidly after regaining his composure, as he had been as shocked as Ashara by his wife's intervention.

The Lord reluctantly did as told and the meeting then took place without much more tension.

Ashara had spent the morning making sure that Barbrey and the babe had all they needed and had barely made it out of Barbrey's room before being stopped by the Maester.

"Someone is here to meet with Lord Jon, my Lady."

"Someone, you say?"

"Yes, my Lady. A man arrived with Lord Benjen and was asked to wait for the Lord's approval, given the circumstances, but he was getting restless and has asked to meet the mother of the Warden, if not the Warden himself."

"Where is he?"

"I brought him and his companion to the Lord's solar."

"Tell Lord Benjen I will meet with the man now."

"Is that wise, Lady Ashara?" Luwin asked and Ashara frowned, waiting for him to continue. "People could get the wrong idea with you talking to a man -"

"People tend to get the wrong idea about me anyways, Maester." she cut him off sternly.

"Beggin your pardon, my Lady, but this man is from Essos, and given your former links to-"

"An Essosi you say?" Ashara repeated, her curiosity piqued.

"Aye. From what I gathered from his accent." Luwin nodded.

"Well, if Benjen brought him back to Winterfell, then he doesn't think him a threat to Jon's safety, don't you think?"

"You're right, my Lady. Apologies for speaking out of turn."

"Do not apologize for this, Luwin. I appreciate your concern for my reputation and I would rather have you speak honestly to me," she said and she could see the man blushing at her praise. "I will see the man now. I leave you to inform Benjen of this, but let him enjoy his time with his family. They all missed him very much."

The Maester nodded once more and Ashara tried to keep her pace even on the way to the solar. The presence of an Essosi man in Winterfell intrigued and worried her, and she remembered part of Barbrey's concern over the latest developments regarding the Reach. Was Rhaella moving too carelessly? Was she out of the loop already? She didn't think her brother would have left her in the dark if the Queen Regent had planned something regarding her grandson. Since Rhaella's marriage to the Sealord of Braavos, they had tried finding ways to bring better deals and trade to the North without making their alliances obvious. Ashara had suggested using Pentos and Lys as ways of getting new ships for the Northern fleet, giving the intermediaries a hefty commission if he'd make it seem that he rather than Rhaella was behind the trade. But it seemed the Sealord's desire for acknowledgment had gotten the best of him. Especially if Benjen's message from White Harbor to his wife was to be believed.

Why the fool had thought it appropriate to involve the Iron Bank was beyond her understanding. Did he think everyone in the North would know about Aemon's truth and rally beyond him at such a young age? It made her wonder how his union with Rhaella was working out and how much he truly knew about their plans.

She sighed as she arrived at the solar's door. Then she offered a prayer to the Seven that this new arrival would not hinder her presence in the Keep anymore than her name already did.

"Ah, you must be the mother," she heard the Essosi say when she entered the solar, but her eyes were glued on the person next to him.

"By the Gods…" she whispered, paralyzed with shock. "This cannot be…"

The man walked toward her and closed the door before engulfing her in a warm hug that she returned almost instantly. He had dyed his hair and grown a beard, but he looked exactly the same to her as he had years ago when she'd last seen him.

"It is good to see you, Ash…"

"How… I thought you were dead!" she managed to say, still in a daze.

"It is a long story. One I will have time to tell you later and in a different place than this "he said looking around the solar "For now, may I introduce you to Syrio Forel? Syrio is -"

"Was." the man instantly corrected. "Was the First Sword of Braavos before the Sealord dismissed me for looking too closely at his wife. He threatened to take my life and I fled from Essos. Thanks to this man who saved my life I found myself on a ship traveling North of Westeros. And now I am here to serve your son." Essosi said almost as if he was reciting a mummer's speech.

"That's the story you're going with?" Ashara frowned, shaking her head in disbelief when both men nodded. "You have to come up with a better one. In the meantime, do not say anything about who you served. It will be hard enough to have you serve here as a Braavosi."

"I am here for young Jon, Lady Dayne. Not to make friends." the man, Syrio, retorted.

"You would make Jon's life and mine easier if you refrained from talking about anything related to the Targaryens," she stressed through clenched teeth. "How you managed to convince Benjen to let you come here is already short of a miracle, dare I say."

"You seem tense, Ash…"

"You're right, I am! What was Rhaella thinking? What were you thinking? What if people recognize you, Richard?" she replied, feeling so overwhelmed with the situation that she needed to sit. "You were his squire. You went to tourneys. Followed his every step. If they know who you are, they will…"

"Do you want me to leave?" Richard asked. "I will defer to your judgment, but I swear to you that I will never put you or him in harm's way."

"What did you tell Benjen?" she asked as she calmed somewhat at Richard Lonmouth's words.

"That I came on behalf of Lord Vorian Dayne who feared for his sister and nephew's safety, as he heard she was not mistreated but still met with scorn in Winterfell. Benjen Stark was so ashamed that he didn't ask much of it," he smirked and she couldn't help but do the same. It felt good to have someone reminding others of her struggles in a place where almost nobody wanted her to be.

She wanted to chastise him, to make him see that this was not a good idea, but the mere idea of being supported more than she was at that moment, to have someone other than Wylla to rely upon, was too good to turn down.

"Damn my weak heart." she sighed loudly. "Arthur sent you to Dorne so you could serve our family, Syrio. You weren't needed in Braavos because of the presence of the Sword of the Morning, he recommended you to our older brother out of guilt for taking your place. Then Vorian chose to send you to Winterfell instead, with Ser…"

"Symon Lake." Richard smiled.

"To protect and teach his nephew, who is going to become Lord of Winterfell. Is that understood?"

"Your brother was right, you are a quick one." Syrio bowed lightly. "If you ever want me to teach you the Water Dance, I would do so gladly, for I think you would be lethal with a weapon in your hand."

"My only weapons are my wits, Master Forel. However, I feel it might be too soon to teach Jon the basis of your trade. I don't think it would be wise to give him a weapon at his age, not even a wooden one."

"I don't need weapons to teach. Learning to fight doesn't require a weapon. Rigor, stealth, swiftness, all of these are required before I decide if my pupil is fit to hold one. Leave him to me and you will see."

"You may have to train more than him. His cousin will not leave his side and I doubt either the Lord Regent or his wife will appreciate a preferential treatment."

"Then I will."

With Wylla's help, Ashara showed the men how to navigate Winterfell. Her loyal friend showed them their new settlements in the Guard's Hall and the way to her and Jon's room. While Ser Richard, now conveniently named Ser Symon, would be assigned to her for the time being, Syrio would be added to Jon's household but still under her supervision. She then went to introduce them to Aemon, making sure they, or at least Richard, didn't get too emotional while seeing him.

Jon was playing with Brandon, as usual, and Ashara always felt a pang in her chest when looking at the two boys together. While Jon got most of his features from Rhaegar, he still could easily pass as a Stark, and his cousin looked every inch what she would have hoped a son of Brandon and her would look like. Which always prompted the same thought in her heart as they smiled at her.

They could have been mine… Both of them could have been my babe… Yet mine had been so little and snatched for me before I could see her grow…

She knelt and Jon rushed straight for her arms, without hesitating. His smile, his kindness, and the love she could see in his eyes reminded her that she might not have a babe of her own, but she was a Mother all the same. That alone was enough so that she would make sure to stay by his side no matter what she would endure.

With Richard flanking her as she walked Winterfell's halls after putting her son to bed, she felt more confident than she had been in years. When they reached her room, she was surprised when Richard asked to join her inside, more so when he then handed her a letter that bore no seal. Opening it, she recognized the writing straight away and even had she not, the words would name the author Rhaella Targaryen. Reading it quickly, she was happy to see that it contained nothing that would cause too much trouble to come, other than when it spoke of the next step in their plans.

"What next step?" she asked Richard as she glanced over words that told her how much all she was doing for Aemon and for Rhaella herself was appreciated.

"To solidify an alliance and make sure that it's the right bride chosen for our king, Ash," Richard said and Ashara shivered slightly, the game was changing and with it, the risk to the life she led had increased dramatically.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up next: A new year brings news from Dorne to make Ashara smile and think of home. In Essos Rhaella births a new babe and makes more plans, Barristan reflects on the thing he's done to regain a queen's favor. While in King's Landing, Cat, Cersei and Robert all have different views on events in Westeros and Essos. Jon begins his training and shows signs of Egg's influence while men of the North find out not to mess with Ashara Dayne and are thought a lesson at the hands of Ser Richard Lonmouth. We also take a look into Dorne and see how Oberyn's meeting with the Targaryens went and how Doran reacted to it.

For those following my other fics, The Dark Prince is up next, finally.

Uncle Dork: She totally is.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Nagiten: Glad you liked it, I thought it was a nice little Easter egg and the line sort of fit too.

Zhorvak: Yes, I thought it'd be a fun line to hear from him.

The Sphinx: Love the poem as always, my friend. Jon without Ghost is just wrong on so many levels, so I don't think I could ever do a story where that happened.

Clash: I agree completely, that's why we sent her some support here and you'll see her over the course of the story and with Jon in particular, getting treated and appreciated better.

The Last Northumbrian: There are so many moving parts to this before it becomes more and more Jon Centric.

Celexys: I want to have it so that when the bigger events start to happen, all the groundwork is done so for example, seeing the North's ships suddenly come into sight, the first question anyone has shouldn't be, where did the North get a navy and things like that. So there are a lot of little pieces that need to be shown, the expansion of the North especially.

Dorodrigo: It very much does and more than that it allows for slightly different takes on characters, and the chance to bounce ideas off someone else, to iron out any plot problems or silly ideas that you may have.

Dunk: So glad you liked it. The thing with Tywin is that for a long time his arrogance is sort of justified, we'll see him slightly less arrogant at times here given what is happening in Essos. As for Doran, we'll see the results of Oberyn's visit to Rhaella and what plans he's making because of it next. It's not so much that Doran is more clever, more so that the changes forced him to think somewhat differently. In a way he sort of didn't really play the game so much in canon until he did, where here he may be playing earlier. The Sealord aspect of things very much opens up Essos much differently and so that will become a focus too for the Targaryens. As for the Eggs, they will affect both Jon and Dany in surprising ways. With Barbrey, she's a strong-willed woman and very much Northern and so yes, she'll be a big part in bringing the North, while Ashara will almost be the Targ's representative in Westeros to a point. The two of them would never truly consider the other as friends and yet very much are. I always think with the North the chance of having a Northern Son with Stark Blood on the Iron Throne is one they'd be most pleased about, but getting them there isn't simple. The conditions have to be right, like for example if it was the WOTFK and Jon had gone south with Robb with the truth known, I think they'd have sought to crown Jon, but asking them to go South with no direct threat to them or to the Starks is a harder sell.

In terms of quicker updates, it's because the load has been halved and so I don't need to write as much for a chapter as I do one of my own, plus on the ideas and plot front, I have someone sharing the work too.

Victoria: Thank you, my friend. We'll be seeing more of them at first than we will the younger generation given their age and even later on, I'll hope not to sideline the older generation as they'll play their part too. But certainly until Jon is older, he'll almost be a periphery character. With Rhaella my thing regarding her is that while I love seeing her live in fics, most of them just have her live and then sideline her. To me that's pointless, if she lives she should be an important character in of herself and not simply Dany and Viserys mother. Here she's a bit catalyst for events. Stay safe and well, my friend, and remember to keep smiling.

The Golden Valkyrie: They very much are, most of the big cities of Essos are as big as any kingdom in terms of power and might and richer than most of them as well. Not even the Dothraki threaten Braavos though were they do most of the other cities, which sort of shows something. Luckily for those in Westeros, the Sealord is looking East and not West, but should they try anything against his wife and her children, they'd be risking much.

It really does with Benjen, we've spoken on this before, but no matter how you look at it, it makes no sense. I find as I do with Rhaella, that even stories that have him in it where he doesn't go to the Wall or in Rhaella's case where she lives, don't know what to do with either of them either. Both become secondary characters who pop up here and there but may as well have faced their canon fates instead for the little they're used. So here it worked best with Ned dying to allow Benjen be the Stark in Winterfell and see the changes through. With Brandon, I think he could have filled this role here and I do so much want to see a Jon raised by Brandon fic, one where it's him and not Ned who makes it to the Tower of Joy.

I call them Georgisms, the little things that work until you look at them more clearly and see that they're setting up plot points for later. But then when you examine them, you see that they don't work in the context of the characters we know. Hoster Tully forces Lysa to wed Jon Arryn and forces, Ned, to wed Cat, while then falling out with the Blackfish because he won't wed the women he's trying to force him to, but then spends the next 15 years right up to when he's dying with an unwed heir, that makes no sense. But if Edmure is wed we can get no Red Wedding can we. The Aegon thing works when you read it but not in retrospect as it makes Varys and Illyrio's plans with Dany just come across as stupid. Why give her the eggs? Why not reach out and do a deal with the Tyrells for their support? I mean that's the logical step to take. Marry fAegon to Marge and you get the Reach, sell him to Dorne as who he is and you get Dorne, add in the Golden Company and who in the hell is there to stop you. Yet instead it's this overly complex plan that only begins in what the third/fourth book. Dorne too makes little sense given Oberyn's nature, fair enough they don't' reach out to the North at the start of the War of the Five Kings, but once Robb starts winning, the moment he takes Jaime, prisoner, they still don't, it just makes so little sense. Especially given the Mountain is riding around the RL causing chaos.

Thrandull. Given the lack of them in the canon, you have to assume that any who lives are so far removed from the mainline that their claim is suspect. It's not like there was a brother or nephew out there waiting to challenge Barbrey for Barrowtown. So the onus falls on the Warden of the North to decide and well, the Warden is a boy. Benjen could technically decide on Jon's behalf, but he could also be forced t wait, and in the end until someone comes forward to press a claim, it's up to Barbrey as the one in possession of it to decide what to do with it. Considering that Westeros is a male-dominated society, if there was anyone with a strong claim to Barrowtown then their claim may supersede that of a widow who was married to its lord for barely more than a year or so. Yet in canon, we never see that person, which tells you there really isn't anyone out there who is aware of their place in the line of succession. It's in some ways like Harrenhal. Shella has no living children, so she's defacto Lady and once she passes, the next in line are funnily enough, the Starks through Cat, but they aren't even aware of that.

Black Basilisk: No worries my friend. The Sealord is a clever man, you have to be to be in his position for as long as he was. Barbrey is Northern and so doesn't have the taint of the Seven's teachings in regards to Jon's bastardry. Though I always felt that Cat's hatred of Jon was never about anything more than pure jealousy. Anyway, Barbrey doesn't have a dog in the fight so to speak either, since she cared not for Ned or Lyanna, where the more time Cat spent around Jon, and fell for Ned, the more she hated him. You got your wish in regards to Olenna, she's too smart not to see which way the wind is blowing, though she has no idea about Jon.

Guest: Sometimes filler is as much needed as heavy plot or action, as it all pays off in time.

Xan Merrick: Thanks my friend, glad you liked it.

King of summer: You're probably right. I think it's so hard not to think of Jon as Jon though, even later when you change his name to his Targ one, you have this almost disconnect where you just see him as Jon always. But yes, naming him Eddard would have really tugged on Jon A and Robert, though I think him being named as Jon works even more in the former's case. It comes across as even more honorific.

I have thought of a Jon vs. Aegon battle and a Jon vs. Robb one too. The level of development to raise the North up is huge and it would take years, which is why you have to almost hasten it along and give it a leg up if you start in this timeframe. It really needed to be done in Rickard's time. I've seen one fic where he lives and basically demands boons for the North as Benjen did here and it allows them to grow somewhat, but the Gift is a huge thing as it's the most fertile lands in the North and is wasted by the watch.

Creativo: Puede haber una oportunidad de ver algo de eso, ya que los Huevos se adentrarán en áreas mágicas.

Darkjon: Ich bin so froh, dass du so denkst, das wird ein anderer Jon/Marge sein als ich es auch getan habe.

14omega: A little of both, a lot of his life will be decided by others for a long time, but as he gets older, he'll take more control of his destiny.

Sugarcane Juice: Just the very reaction I hoped for, so glad you liked it.

Guest: It's funny you say that, I think there is a lot wrong with this generation of Tully's, all Hoster's children have some degree of faults within them. Lysa is mad, Edmure is weak and Cat is vindictive and each of them mess things up because of it. Mel would find it hard to convert Cat compared to Selyse and both she and Stannis will in some ways be in better places. Stannis has gotten or will get more of what he wants, he has Storm's End is a member of the Small Council and will have his heir and Cat is in the South and so happier and yet, Jon will raise her ire more than once as we go.