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.

4. The Lion Does Not Sleep Tonight

Casterly Rock 284 AC.

Tywin Lannister.

It was supposed to be his greatest moment, his truest victory. His son and heir had taken Aerys' life, while his men had removed the threat of Princess Elia and her children. The gods had intervened and taken the insipid Stark girl from the world and even gave him the added boon of taking yet another of her brothers with her. That had actually almost brought a smile to his face. Eddard Stark had dared to call for Jaime's head and had named him a Kingslayer as if Aerys was not a king that didn't need to be slain. He'd dared to besmirch his son's honor and so Tywin mourned him not.

The negotiations with Jon Arryn over his support for the new king and the price for that support had been concluded quickly and much to his satisfaction. Cersei was now queen and in time it would be his blood that sat on the Iron Throne. A Lannister King, even though he would need to bear the name of a Stag in order to see it done. All had gone as well as he could have hoped for until it had not. Jaime's refusal to give up his white cloak had been the first of many setbacks. It had left him irate with his son and heir, furious with him, and no effort of his to see his mind changed had yet worked.

When the news then came from Dragonstone, Tywin was apoplectic. Of all the fool things that they could have done, to allow Rhaella and her son to escape may very well top them all. So angered was he by this, that the news regarding the North slipped by him unnoticed. All his focus had been on the loss of the Targaryens and what that would mean, that it took him some time to turn his eyes to the Starks. He did not like what he saw when he did so. No, he did not like it at all.

"He gave them what?" he asked Kevan as they sat in his solar.

"He returned the Gift and Brandon's Gift, brother. Allowed them a reduction in taxes over the next ten years of half and provided them not just with leave to build a fleet, but with a generous donation of coin to see it done."

"How generous?"

"100,000 gold dragons."

"Not enough to build many ships truth be told," he said taking some comfort in that fact, the thoughts of the Starks having a fleet to rival his own were not ones that he was pleased about, but he knew how much ships cost and it was more than the poor North could afford.

"He named Stark's bastard as Lord and Warden too," Kevan said and Tywin scoffed, for to name a babe such was folly.

"Over his uncle?" he asked to be certain and Kevan nodded before telling him that Benjen Stark had been named as Regent until Jon Stark, as he was to be known from now on, was of age.

"A babe and a green boy, the North is even less significant than it once was. The gods favored us all when they saw fit to take so many of them from this world."

"That they did brother."

With the Starks as no true threat to his influence in the running of the Realm, Tywin looked to those who would be. Dorne was silent which was not a good thing. He doubted very much that the peace that Jon Arryn had negotiated with them would last, especially with Rhaella and her children alive. The news that she'd birthed a daughter had reached him and created an added problem. A son who held a claim to the throne, that was now Tywin's family's to hold, and a daughter to buy an alliance with, neither could be allowed to live too much longer.

The Reach had lost even more favor and respect. Mace Tyrell had shown his ineptitude with his siege of Storm's End and was that not enough for Robert to look badly at House Tyrell, the death of Eddard Stark had made him hate anyone who had supported the dragons even more now. Hence his actions on Driftmark. Which were ones that Tywin both agreed with and very much did not at the same time. Had the Velaryon's been there, then he'd have been all for it. Their deaths would send a clear message to any who looked to Braavos and saw an opportunity. Just as the deaths of the Reynes and the Tarbecks had done so for him. Destroying a keep was a far less powerful message and fixed not the problems that Rhaella's survival created.

The loss of Barristan Selmy had diluted the king's message greatly too. Though Tywin cared not for the knight and felt he too had lorded over his son, he knew what it meant to have him as Lord Commander. That his desertion had meant that Jaime had or would soon be named in his stead, pleased him not either. Yet it was where he knew Barristan had gone to that annoyed him as much as the signal his leaving had sent. Rhaella would have both Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy by her side, which created problems that he'd not yet found solutions for.

Rising from his seat, he moved to the window and looked out over his lands. His mind was now focussed back on the realm and on the players of the great game. By hook or by crook, Robert Baratheon had actually done a clever thing in wedding Stannis to Catelyn Tully. The Stormlands and Riverlands alliance would serve them well should another rebellion be forced upon them. Something that Tywin was sure would be Rhaella's desire in time. He needed to do something so that that desire remained unfulfilled and yet he knew not what.

Even as he ate his dinner later that night, his mind sought a solution to the Targaryen question. Robert he knew wished to launch a full-scale attack on Braavos and yet that was a folly he'd not allow or take part in. The Sealord himself had given Rhaella safe harbor and should he join his ships to hers, Tywin forced the thought from his mind. No, it could not be so blatant an attack. It needed to be smarter, cleverer, and more nuanced than that. It was not a task for men such as the Mountain either. For as strong and capable as his most rabid dog was, he was no match for the blades of Barristan the Bold or The Sword of the Morning.

"You feel well, brother?" Genna asked as he had not spoken or eaten since he'd sat down.

"I have much on my mind," he replied to a nod of his sister's head.

Laying down in his bed, looking at the empty space beside him made him think of Joanna once more. How he wished she was here to see their daughter crowned and to welcome their first grandchild into the world when Cersei birthed the heir to the Iron Throne. To see how high he'd risen their House and to share the burdens that his life brought him each and every day. She'd know what to do. His wife would know Rhaella's mind better than most. Her counsel would be invaluable to him now. Yet other he feared her judgment somewhat too.

"She'd not forgive you for the children."

"She'd not go along with your plans for a woman she named as a friend, nor for the babes that she'd birthed."

"She'd be shamed by what you did in King's Landing."

He woke up in a cold sweat, fighting away the nightmare that he'd been awakened from. The cold look in Joanna's green eyes and her words spoken to him had cut right to the bone. Rising from his bed, he dressed and made his way to his solar. There were missives waiting for him to read already there and he sent for some tea to warm and wake him up for true. Taking his seat, he looked over the missives and found his attention wandering. Tywin cared not why Arthur Dayne had seen fit to rescue men sent to the Wall nor why a representative of the Iron Bank had felt the North a place he needed to travel to.

Instead, his thoughts were on dragons once more. Ignoring the dream and the hatred in Joanna's eyes and her angered words, he knew exactly what he needed to do. They had to die. Rhaella and her children had to, they had to, and so he would see it done. It would be knives in the dark that he'd send to them and he'd send as many as needed to be sent. He'd not let Viserys Targaryen grow to manhood and be a viable threat to his own grandson when he was finally born. Tywin would not suffer any threat to his House and its grip on the Iron Throne. Whatever it cost, whatever needed to be done. He'd see Rhaella and her children join Aerys and Rhaegar and the prince's own in the ground. And should he one day find himself face to face with his wife again, she'd know his reasons had been good and true. She'd understand that he did all he did for love.

Winterfell 284 AC.

Benjen Stark.

His first word. The first word he ever heard his nephew ever utter and it was to be this one.

"EGG!"

Immediately Benjen rushed to Jon's side, the babe obviously joyous to see him and to be able to show him his precious gift. To his surprise, Jon waddled to him, holding the egg that looked heavier than what a babe his age should be able to hold with ease. His stupor quickly changed into worry, as he glanced around and noticed his wife, Wylla, Old Nan, all in the nursery with him and Ashara.

"Who else has seen the egg?" he asked concernedly.

"Just us, my Lord," Wylla answered. "Lady Ashara and Lady Barbrey made sure nobody else was to enter, and the little lord didn't leave the room, as he doesn't want to get separated from it."

Benjen sighed loudly, feeling his anger grow at that moment, the look on Nan's face was enough to make him understand she had put the dots together and figured out Jon's true parentage. He knew he could trust her, after all, she had helped in the raising of all of the Stark children for as long as she could recall, his father and grandfather included. She was loyal to the Starks and she loved Jon as if he was her own. Yet he would still have to talk to her soon and he didn't look forward to doing so. Nor did he want the talk with Barbrey to have to happen so quickly.

He wanted the reveal to be on his terms. Not after he had just learned that he was going to be a father. Not to have then only to have to face the risk of having the mother of his unborn child hate him because of what he had hidden from her.

"Leave us alone," he ordered simply, glaring at Ashara who looked afraid of his reaction.

Good. Let her realize what happens when you tug at a wolf's tail.

"Have you lost your mind? You and Aemon? What in the world possessed him to send this... This thing to my nephew?" he asked her angrily when they were alone.

"I understand you're not happy about this, but I can explain what went on while you were away. It...this is not what it looks like." Ashara stated calmly.

"Not what it looks like? Is it not a dragon egg in my nephew's hands? And does it not come from Maester Aemon as a fucking nameday gift?"

"It was not, Benjen. Aemon would not risk his namesake's life by gifting him a dragon egg for all to see."

"Then why..."

Before he could go on, Ashara pulled a letter from her dress and handed it to him. Frowning, he opened it and read its contents.

My dear Ashara,

I pray that my letter finds you and little Jon in good health. Did he say his first word yet? Or take his first step? In your last letter, you said that Lord Stark was worrying because he wasn't walking yet, and as Maester Luwin said to both of you. Something that I have to agree with him on, is that all babes come to blossom in their own time.

Things at the Wall are getting even tenser. Your brother's expedition to retrieve House Targaryen loyalists has indeed rubbed the Stag the wrong way, and he now plans to send some of his men to Castle Black so that he could find the persons responsible for informing Ser Arthur of their arrival.

I fear that his hatred for my family puts me and my heirlooms in danger. While Lord Commander Qorgoyle and Jeor Mormont both ensure me that they will not tell of my former affiliation to house Targaryen, I do not want them to discover the sentimental heirlooms that I have kept with me for so long.

If I must separate myself from them, then I want you to safeguard them, for obvious reasons. There are books about my family as well as some heirlooms that I would want my family to receive when the time is right. Please hide them from any who would seek them harm and share them with the head of my house in due time.

I also took the opportunity of sending this coffer to you to give to your son as his nameday gift. It is nothing, truly, simply a token of love from a man who loved crafting things at a young age.

Send my best regards to Lord and Lady Stark, I pray they are well. To you and your son too, my best wishes to you both and good fortune in the days to come

Maester Aemon.

Dread almost overwhelmed him as he read the letter. He had known how Robert would react to Arthur's stunt and it didn't surprise him to see that his fears were not unfounded. He had also received a letter from the man asking him to question Ashara and bidding him keep an eye on her for he thought of her as a traitor. No matter how safe Ashara thought she was hiding behind Jon as his supposed mother, Robert despised her and didn't trust her not to work with his enemies. Something that she actually was doing to be fair to the man's paranoia. He couldn't even be sure to trust his household completely regarding her. As the Rebellion was still fresh in their mind and some of them had shown unveiled discontent with her presence. Though Jon's own presence had held most back from showing it too clearly or overtly.

"Aemon had sent a carved wolf to Jon." Ashara started. "I opened the coffer to retrieve it and to quickly check what was in it. I never thought there would be an egg... Unfortunately, Jon saw it and ran for it before I could hide everything. He did not crawl, Benjen. He ran! I was so stunned, I couldn't believe my eyes, and when I realized what he'd grabbed from the coffer, it was already too late."

"Too late?"

"I tried everything I could to make him give it back. Everything. I bargained, I ordered, I yelled, I cried, yet every time he denied me. When I took it by force, He cried out so loudly it alerted both your wife and Old Nan... So as not to let anyone else see it, I let him keep it. We've been hiding him and it here ever since because he does not want to stay away from his Egg."

"Egg!" Jon repeated happily as if to prove Ashara's point.

"We have to put this egg back where it belongs," he said brushing his hands through his hair in frustration.

"If you can manage it, my Lord, then be my guest!" she scoffed as he knelt in front of his nephew.

"Jon? What is it that you hold?"

"EGG!"

"Can I see it?" Benjen asked as nicely as he could.

"MY!" Jon yelled, his little arms bringing the egg closer to him.

"What?"

"Egg, my," Jon repeated with certainty, making Benjen smile at his pouting face.

"I know that, but surely you can..."

"NO! EGG, MY!"

"Won't you share it with your dear uncle Benjen?"

"Ben?" Jon frowned, looking from the egg to him, and Benjen's heart skipped a beat with happiness at hearing his name from his nephew for the first time.

"Aye, Ben!" he said happily. "Uncle Ben, that's me!"

"Ben!"

"Aye! Aye! Can I borrow your egg, now?"

"NO!"

He could see Ashara trying to stifle her laugh as he sighed with annoyance, all traces of joy soon gone as Jon held stubbornly onto his egg.

"Jon..." he growled. "Give me this egg, now."

He'd never heard his nephew cry. Even when he was hungry, he barely fussed and mewled, so Benjen was taken aback by the heartbreaking wail that pierced his ears and he quickly grabbed the carved wolf, shaking it in front of Jon with urgency.

"Don't you want to play with the wolf?"

"EGG!" Jon's pained voice cried out once more, and this time Benjen was grateful for Ashara's intervention as she took the distraught babe in her arms.

"There, there, Jon. There's no need to yell at your uncle. He just wanted to play with you." she lied skillfully while Jon calmed down, still looking at him with distrust.

He looked so much like Lyanna at that moment. The look Benjen was given was the same he would receive when he'd used underhanded tactics to beat her in a spar and his eyes filled with tears as he was faced with his sister's son, which was now proved true in more ways than one.

"You're truly hers, aren't you?" he managed to say, his voice full of mixed emotions. "You have the same damn character that she had and used to either get me in trouble or to let her get away with things…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to find Ashara trying to comfort him.

"I get it now. I'm sorry for overreacting. I just…" he began but she interrupted.

"I know. You worry about him and I do too. I am truly sorry about all of this. Try to get some rest, will you? You've been far from home for a long time. Surely you want to spend time with your wife?"

"I will have to tell her the truth, now." he sighed.

"It was bound to happen eventually, and perhaps with her in the know, she will be able to find something to help us with this tricky situation?"

"Mayhaps... She is with child, did you know that?" he said and she gasped.

"It's… Wonderful news! I'm happy for both of you. Truly, I am!" she insisted cheerfully, even though her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Jon, you're going to have a little cousin! A babe that you will be able to play with!"

"Ben?" Jon said shyly, and Benjen felt a fool for being emotional every time he said his name. If Jon made him react this way, then the Old Gods knew how he would feel with his own child?

He walked back to his room after Ashara had promised her to work on Jon and the egg situation. He was so lost in what happened in the nursery that he didn't hear Old Nan approach him until her voice startled him.

"Did you know that there are rumors of a dragon clutch lost in the crypts of Winterfell?" she said nonchalantly.

"What… What are you talking about?"

"I recall I told you the tale of the tale when you and Lyanna were children. Princess Rhaenyra's son came here, to Winterfell, with his dragon Vermax. It is said that the dragon enjoyed the crypts so much that it laid some eggs in them. You were scared of going there as a boy, but Lyanna always kept challenging you to find those eggs."

"Why are you telling me this, Nan?" he asked confused.

"Well, it seems that your nephew finally found one of them… The first Stark able to discover what lay deep within the crypts." she chuckled, winking at Benjen and patting his back as he realized what she was implying.

"Thank you, Nan. For always being there for us, for all of us"

"You're a good lad, Benjen, do not forget that you are as loved as Lyanna was. People will protect you and the little lord no matter what happens. Do not worry so much about this thing with the egg."

Her words felt like a balm to his hurting heart. He realized that he had needed this, to know that people other than the Targaryens and Ashara would be there for Jon regardless of his upbringing. He needed more people to know the truth to help him protect his nephew, people he could and would trust, starting with the one who shared his life and his bed, and who was waiting for him when he arrived at his chambers.

Storm's End 284 AC.

Stannis Baratheon.

Seeing the great keep on the cliffs, the drum tower standing high and proud, Stannis welcomed that the weather was good. He'd sent the rest of his fleet to dock at Massey's Hook but had sailed the Fury to Storm's End itself given the good weather. Now he was being rowed to shore and he thanked the gods, both for his safe return and for doing so in this manner. He'd wished to be home, to be back in his own bed, and to be back by his wife's side. Had he joined the rest of the fleet, then it would have been days of hard riding and he'd be miserable by the time he reached his home. Now he felt anything but.

Seeing the guards waiting for him, Stannis nodded to Ser Cortnay Penrose and the boat was soon being pulled onto the beach so that he could disembark. There was still a long way to go to the keep, a tough walk as he'd not use the secret entrance unless it was truly needed. Yet he welcomed this too as it would give him time to speak to Ser Cortnay and be brought up to date on all that had happened while he was off helping his brother with his folly.

"My lord, welcome back, all went well?" Ser Cortnay asked as they walked to the path that led them from the small beach.

"As well as can be expected, Ser Cortnay. Lady Baratheon?" he asked.

"Has run the keep even better than I, my lord. She's a most capable woman, my lord, most capable."

Was he a different man then he'd have smiled at that. But Stannis was not a man who was open with his emotions and so he kept his pleasure to himself. Instead, he asked about the mundane day-to-day and some of the less mundane tasks he'd wished to see taken care of while he was busy on Driftmark.

By the time they reached the gates of Storm's End, Stannis almost was smiling. His wife hadn't just seen to the reorganizing of the keep itself but had set in motion the reorganization of the Stormlands too. Not once did she overstep her authority either. Instead, she simply set things in motion that he would have were he here and that he now needed not to. Entering the courtyard, he found the household lined up ready to welcome him back to his home and it pleased him greatly to see them and to see Catelyn most of all.

His wife was a strikingly beautiful woman, and her red hair and bright blue eyes were a most welcome sight. As was the smile that she wore on her face when she saw he was unharmed. He'd not thought to wed, though he knew he'd one day need to. The need for an heir to his father's lands had been what he'd thought to be the only advantage of having a wife. It was not that he didn't have the same needs as other men though that had been his reticence in seeking one. While he was not Robert, he much enjoyed laying with a woman, and with Catelyn it had been more than pleasurable to do so. He'd not wished for a wife because he was a man who enjoyed his solitude and the peace and quiet of his own company. More and more he'd begun to find that he enjoyed the company of his wife. She was poised and political where he was not, clever and smart in ways he was lacking.

"Storm's End is yours, my lord," Catelyn said with a perfect curtsy.

"I am most pleased to be welcomed so, my lady, most pleased," he said placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

After he'd been welcomed back, he'd bathed, changed his clothing, and seriously considered laying with his wife even though it was still daylight. Somehow he managed to forego the rising need to do so and instead spent the day catching up on things and being left alone while he did. It was yet another thing that he much appreciated about his wife. She offered her counsel both when requested and sometimes when not, yet she allowed him his solitude too when he sought it. Something he did not seek as much now as he had believed he would have when they first wed. So he soon sent for her and asked her to join him in his solar. Catelyn arrived within a few moments of him doing so.

"You heard of what my brother did, Catelyn?" he asked as she sat down in front of him.

"I did my lord. I take it you were not best pleased by his actions?" she asked and he nodded "Would it truly send such a bad message?" she added a moment later.

"To some no, to others very much so. Had the Velaryons themselves been there I fear what Robert would have done to them, as it was…"

"My lord?"

"My name, Catelyn, it's long past time we spoke as equals when together."

"Stannis," she said softly and he felt a small tremble at hearing her do so, as other than when abed she always kept to her courtesies.

"I had to send two of our men to the Wall after they'd assaulted a young mother, they sought to…"

"Then they are lucky you were fair and just, Stannis," she said firmly.

"You've done an incredible job in my absence, Catelyn, truly remarkable." he said and he was pleased to see her smile "I had thought I'd be coming back to much more work, and yet….to see it so advanced, I'm most grateful."

"I told you that I ran my father's household for many years, husband. Though a lady cannot overstep her bounds and it's the lord who holds sway, I'd seek to help where I can."

"And I'm most grateful for it, Catelyn, truly I am."

They spoke then on the Lord of the Stormlands and the feasts that he'd soon have to hold for them. Something he was not best pleased about but knew thanks to his wife just how important they were. Was it up to him, then he'd not hold a damn feast or ball in Storm's End until he had an actual reason to do so. But his wife had arranged them and would take charge of them, which meant he only need show up and pretend to enjoy them, a chore in itself.

Dinner that night however was not a feast and it was one shared with men who'd serve him for years to come and so one he very much enjoyed. When the time came for them to retire to their bed, his wife looked at him eagerly and Stannis once again felt a small tremble as he thought of what the night would lead to. When they lay together a short while later, their coupling was slow rather than as frantic as he thought it may be. Catelyn stayed in his chambers that night and he enjoyed sleeping with her in his bed, where once the very thought of such would annoy him greatly. Were she a different woman, then this would be far more of a duty and chore he believed. Yet to lay with her, to listen to her opinion, to sleep beside her, all of it felt far more comfortable than he'd feared such a life would be.

A few weeks later.

The meetings with his lords went well, the feasts and hunts he'd thrown for them had been much appreciated. While he'd never be as effusive and charming as his brother was in his Bannermen's eyes, he'd in his wife, found someone they saw as Robert's match in that regard. Catelyn charmed them where he could not. She made them feel as important as each of them wished to and listened to their silly stories when he grew impatient with them.

Her words and her looks at him allowed for their company to become more and more bearable. Then each night she was there beside him in their bed, welcoming him and soothing his annoyance at the day or night that he'd endured. Their coupling would give him the strength and will to wake the next morning and begin anew. His wife would spend time with their wives and daughters too and find out the truth of what it was they sought. Catelyn somehow managed to get them to give up their secrets to her where their husbands would beat around the bush or speak in circles.

It had allowed for them to put the Stormlands to rights or on the path to it within a moon or so, rather than how long it would take without her by his side. Which in turn meant that he could take up his post on the Small Council sooner rather than later. Something his wife was more pleased about than he. For he'd much prefer to remain in Storm's End instead of moving to King's Landing for more moons of the year than he wished to spend in his brother's company. Still, he'd been honored with his position and it pleased his wife. So did his duty and got ready to depart for the capital.

"I'll ensure the ravens fly if need be, my lord." Ser Cortnay said as they walked to the courtyard, Catelyn and those he'd be taking with him already waiting.

"I've no doubt you will, Ser Cortnay, I'll return in a moon or so, but sooner if needed."

"Storm's End will await your return most eagerly, my lord."

He nodded to the man and was soon atop his horse and riding out from the keep. Out in Shipbreaker Bay, the weather did not allow for the Fury to be at anchor and so it would be to Estermont that they'd ride. The Fury was docked on Estermont Island and would sail to the mainland upon his arrival close to his mother's family's lands. So it would be a few days on the road that he, his wife, and those with him would need to suffer.

It gave him time to consider just what it was he was getting into in his new role. Robert's Folly had both had the effect and not that his brother had wished for and Stannis would not trust any who showed their loyalty through fear alone. It had cost his brother much in terms of reputation and the services of a true knight in Ser Barristan Selmy. The man was now no doubt standing by the side of a queen who'd see them all dead if she was able.

Whether that had led to the events in the North or they'd have occurred anyway, he couldn't be certain. Yet Arthur Dayne had shown up both his brother and the acting regent of the North at the same time, something that his wife was most pleased about. Stannis could understand why Catelyn took issue with them, and yet he liked it not. The North was not their concern and so he'd told her so, something he was happy to see she'd taken on board. As they set up their tents for the night, he looked forward to once again being abed with his wife. Though through it and through their meal, which she barely partook of, something seemed off with Catelyn. He waited until they were alone in their tent to speak to her and find out what that was.

"My moon blood came. I had hoped….but a little over a week ago…" his wife said her voice breaking as she spoke and he felt the tug at his heart for her upset and for his own.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said moving to her, his arms going around her and holding her tightly.

"I.."

"The gods will bless us, Catelyn, I've not a doubt in my heart that this will be so," he said and she relaxed against his chest. "This is why you've been distant?" he asked and felt her nod "Should there be a next time…"

"I'll come to you sooner," she said and he kissed her lips softly.

It was not something he'd have known to do but a few moons earlier. Not something he'd have been equipped to do were this only a year earlier, but he'd built up a level of intimacy with his wife that he was happy to enjoy. So he whispered words of comfort into her ears, fought down his own disappointment at the news, and waited until she was ready to move from him.

"I'd like to try again, Stannis, as soon as…"

He silenced her words with a kiss and despite the fact they were in a tent and their men would hear them, he cared not. That night they laid together two more times and he spilled his seed inside of her. Both of them prayed to the gods that it would take hold.

Braavos 284 AC.

Rhaella.

The return of Ser Arthur from his successful mission to the North had allowed her to put aside thoughts of marriage for now. Rhaella was not quite ready to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of such, nor to consider what her rejection of the Sealord's proposal may lead to. So instead she was pleased to see that Ser Arthur was unharmed and it had been near enough to a hundred men he'd free from their unjust sentence. As she was to see some faces among them that she'd known. Men who'd fought with her son on the Trident and knights who'd been a part of their court in the Red Keep.

"Your grace, on behalf of myself, Ser Jaremy, and the men, I thank you for the favor you've shown to us and I and they pledge our lives and fealty to you and to the One True King." Ser Alliser Thorne said and as he took a knee, the men with him did likewise.

"I welcome you into his grace's and mine own service once more, Ser Alliser, and we vow that you shall always have a place by our hearth and meat and mead at our table. We pledge that we shall ask no service of you that shall bring you into dishonor. Rise now as the good and true men of House Targaryen that you are." she said as Ser Alliser and the others did as bid.

"Ser Alliser, if you and those with you would follow, I'll see you billeted and properly armed and armored." Ser Willem said and with a nod to her, Ser Alliser and those with him did as they were bid leaving her alone with Ser Arthur and her guards.

With a look at him, Ser Arthur was by her side and the two of them walked into the Manse. Viserys having heard that Arthur was back, soon came running and after the knight had told him that he'd speak to him later and that their training would be renewed on the morrow, her son ran back to his daily chores. Soon enough they had reached her solar and taken a seat, Rhaella sending for refreshments and some juice as she knew that Arthur would drink no wine. Tired and having just returned he may be, but she'd no doubt he'd be on duty before the night was done.

"I'm most pleased you are unharmed, Ser Arthur. It went as well as it looks?" she asked.

"It did, my queen. The men of the Watch wished not to fight against us once I made our intent clear and the guards sent by the usurper were outnumbered and outmatched."

"And wished not to cross swords with the Sword of the Morning, no doubt," she said as the refreshment arrived back.

"No doubt." Arthur said as he poured them both a mug of juice "The prince, princess?" he asked as she took a sip and welcomed both its coolness and the sweetness of the orange it had been made from.

"My daughter is as well as I could ever wish her to be, she's perfect, Ser Arthur, perfect, and I can only thank the gods for gifting me so."

"Then I shall add mine own thanks too, my queen."

"As for my son, he missed you terribly. I'm sure your words that his training was to resume on the morrow were much appreciated. He's been most diligent while you were away, Ser, keen to impress and not let you down I'd wager."

"He could never do so, my queen. Prince Viserys shows great promise and skill and I'll hone that skill as best I'm able."

"But who hones my grandson's skill, Ser, who will train the king to be all he must?" she asked sighing and then holding her hand up as it was no true question "The men Ser Arthur, how best can we use them?"

"Some we'll send to join Ser Bonifer, my queen." Arthur replied and she tried not to let the tingle at hearing her former love's name show too clearly "Others I'd keep as part of our guard here and Ser Alliser and Ser Jaremy I'd seek to serve as sworn shields to the prince and princess."

"You think so highly of their skills?" she asked curiously.

"I'd prefer Kingsguard, my queen, but the men are more skilled than most of those we have and their loyalty is absolute."

"I'll leave it in your hands, Ser, I…." she began and then faltered, needing to speak to what the Sealord suggested to someone who'd advise her well.

"My queen?"

"I've received an offer of marriage, Ser Arthur, from the Sealord," she said as a knock came on the door and Ser Willem entered.

"The men are settled, your grace, I…" Ser Willem said before noticing her expression, "The betrothal?" he asked and she nodded.

"There is no need for you to wed, my queen, not if it's not a marriage you wish for."

"I am doomed to be married to men I don't wish for, Ser Arthur, it is the curse of being a queen and one I welcome so my daughter does not need to suffer it. I need your counsel and thoughts on why I should or should not accept the offer."

"I am yours to command, my queen, always."

Three days later.

Her mind was set and her path chosen. The advantages far outweighed the disadvantages and she would not be going into this marriage as powerless or as dejected as she had in the last. There would be no repeat of the suffering she'd endured under Aerys. For should her husband turn out to be as unpleasant as her brother had, then his end would soon be upon him. Be it at her hands or at the hands of one of those who served her.

Ser Willem had asked and she'd accepted to be trained somewhat in the use of a dagger. She now wore a small one strapped to her thigh and welcomed the comfort it brought to her. Though as always her true comfort was in her children and in thoughts of her grandson. Though at times those thoughts pained her too. Rhaella had spoken to the Iron Bank once more and the Pact of Ice and Fire was now fully enacted. In time the North would grow ever more strong and she'd do her part to see that all was ready when the time came for her grandson to retake his throne. Even if she had to forgo seeing or holding him in her arms until then to do.

For now, she could take comfort in holding her daughter and seeing just how strong and healthy she was. How her eyes were as alert as any she'd ever seen and that she seemed to be a happy babe. She could look to her son and soothe his aches when he'd overdone it on the training ground and be the mother to him she'd always longed to be. Both her children would be as prepared as her grandson when the time came, both though would lead different lives when Aemon took back the throne. Be it Hand of the King, Commander of his armies, a member of his Small Council, or his most Leal and True Bannerman, Viserys would play the role of a true Targaryen Prince. While Daenerys would not suffer the fate of most Targaryen Princesses, on that her vow was true and unyielding.

"My queen, I…" Ser Willem said as he almost rushed into her room.

"Ser Willem?"

"Visitors my queen, men I'd long given up thoughts of seeing. Ser Arthur has them under guard."

"What men?" she asked as she moved from the room.

"Jon Connington and Barristan the Bold." Ser Willem said and Rhaella felt her anger rise at the latter of those two names before she fought it down and calmed herself for now.

Highgarden 284 AC.

Olenna Tyrell.

Olenna looked over the figures and bristled. The increase in their taxes and the coin they'd been forced to pay as restitution were not large enough to cause them any true or lasting damage, yet she liked them not. A ten percent increase over five years and a one-off payment of nigh on 100,000 Gold Dragon was a small price to pay to keep your head and your holdings. A very small price to pay given what had happened on Driftmark.

While she had no true fear that they'd suffer the same fate, at times when she was alone or asleep in her bed, she'd not be able to fight the thoughts they may, away so easily. In her most worried state or sometimes in her darkest dreams, the question of what would have happened to the Velaryons had they actually still resided on Driftmark would raise its horrid head. As would the nightmare of Robert Baratheon arriving with an army at her door to see that fate inflicted upon her own family.

If it was nighttime and sometimes during the day, her path would lead her to the nursery and to her granddaughter. Olenna had found out that being with Margaery forced all other thoughts from her mind. Instead, the simple act of holding such a soft and precious thing as her golden rose in her arms, was enough to soothe her worried heart and chase her fears away. As would later spending time with her other grandchildren and watching them go about their daily activities.

In this aspect of her life, the gods had seen fit to bless her. Willas was nine namedays old and already showed a keen mind and a thirst for knowledge. Garlan was not yet seven and it was clear his interest lay more in the martial arts than in his studies. Little Loras was a terror at two and she had no doubt that when he was older it would be Garlan and not Willas that he sought to emulate. Horas and Hobber though further away in the Arbor, she'd taken pains to visit or have brought to her as much as she could and she only decried that it was their father's looks and not their mother's they had inherited. While Desmera had gotten the best of both her parents, red hair and freckles that would look fetching one day, and bore her mother's beauty in her features.

Yet it was Margaery that was her pride and joy, her heart and soul. From the moment her first granddaughter had been born and Olenna was lucky enough to be present at the birth, if not in the room itself, she'd felt a connection to her golden rose. Her looks were all Tyrell, to her anyway. Dark of hair and eye, with a lightness to her features that Olenna remembered in both her daughters. She was as perfect as perfect could be and such a clever child already. Pushing the books to one side, she rose to her feet and with a nod to Left and Right, made her way to the nursery as she did as often as she could. She arrived just after Margaery had woken from her nap and could only thank the Mother for her good fortune.

"Give me her here, I'll see her settled," she said to the wet nurse who did as she asked without delay.

Taking her seat by the window, she held her granddaughter in her arms, and together they looked out on the orchards and gardens of Highgarden below.

"I seek so much for you child, to see you rise to all you were born to be." she began softly "To be more than even I rose to, for it's not just these lands that I'd seek to be your domain, but all the lands of Westeros."

Looking down, she smiled to see how attentive Margaery's golden brown eyes were on her face and not the lands outside the window.

"But how best to see it done vexes me. It vexes me no end." she said and she almost laughed when Margaery's frown matched her own "Would that you could talk Sweetling, would that I could hear your mind on such matters for I've no doubt that your advice would be most illuminating." she said as she chuckled and moved her fingers to take Margaery's hand in her own.

A servant came by to ask her about her luncheon and Olenna simply waved her away. Alerie too came by to see if Margaery was awake and upon seeing her there with her, her gooddaughter stayed only briefly. It was not her intent to take up all her granddaughter's time and certainly not to infringe upon the bond between a mother and her child. Knowing that Alerie both didn't see it that way and that she was most happy to have the burden of Margaery's care shared, allowed Olenna to feel no guilt over the time she spent with her granddaughter.

"Is it to the Stag or the Dragons that we must look, Sweetling? To the oaths, we swore for almost three hundred years or the one we swore most reluctantly? Which gives us the most chance of growing strong, my love, which the most chance of being torn out root and stem?"

There of course was no reply, other than a smile which took her breath away as it had from the first moment she'd seen one appear on Margaery's face. Eventually, she felt her arms begin to tire and they were not alone in this. Margaery too seemed to doze off under the warm sun that shined through the window. Rising carefully to her feet, she moved to the crib and lay her grandaughter down softly on the pillow. Once she'd done so, she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Margaery's forehead.

"Sleep my love, sleep, and dream of pleasant things. Mayhap like Daenys the Dreamer you'll one day find answers in your dreams that will see us avoid the doom of our times," she said as she moved to the door.

Their family dinner was as pleasant as ever, though Mace annoyed her more than once. Her grandsons all behaved and though her appetite was not fulsome, she ate what she wished for. After bidding her goddaughter, son, and grandsons goodnight, she made her way to the nursery and did the same to her granddaughter. Then when she reached her rooms, it was to her solar rather than to her bed that her feet took her.

How long she wrote for, she couldn't tell. Moments, hours, she felt it more the latter than the former given the words and the amount of parchment she'd used. Each kingdom, their strengths and weaknesses, the potential for alliances, and those she'd name as friends, enemies, or not yet one or the other, she'd written of them all. She'd find no favor with Tywin Lannister and to seek out Dorne's aid would be to risk their standing with their Bannermen. Long had the Dornish and the Reachmen been at odds and while they'd fought on the same side in the Rebellion, it had done neither of them any good in the end.

The Vale, Stormlands, Riverlands, and the North were all tied together in the bonds of those who'd fought side by side in the war. Unlike them and Dorne, they had grown closer during their forced alliance. Though the loss of both Lyanna and Eddard Stark had left that alliance somewhat shakier than it would have been had one or both lived. Olenna knew that the marriage between Catelyn Tully and Stannis Baratheon would bring the Riverlands and Stormlands even closer and that it would affect somewhat the Reach too. As they'd both seek to supply each other more than they once had.

Looking down at the parchment, she sighed when she saw the three words that she'd encircled.

Dragons.

Stags.

Wolves.

Her heart bid her to look East, to seek out Queen Rhaella and to see what gains could be had there. Her boy would be king if the dragons could manage to build a big enough alliance and kings need queens do they not? Yet to even be seen to casually interact let alone to be found to be in direct contact, would not go down well with the Stag who sat the throne. Looking to the last of those words she'd encircled she found herself keen to know why she'd done so and just looking at it led to no answers at that moment. Nor none as she lay down and eventually fell to sleep.

Not even when she awoke and broke her fast did she find herself understanding her own mind on this. It was only later when she held Margaery in her arms and she sat in the nursery with her gooddaughter and grandson that things became clearer in her mind. Seeing Loras move on the floor and play with his toys while his mother looked on happily, Olenna began to think more about the young Lord of the North. Eddard Stark's bastard son had been named as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and while her mind would never look North for a match for Margaery, the North was rising somewhat too.

"What say you Sweetling am I just a daft old woman?" she asked Margaery after she'd whispered her thoughts to her.

"GAMMA," Margaery said, and how she didn't drop her to the floor in her shock she knew not.

"Did she?" Alerie asked as he almost rushed to be by their side, Loras too moving from where he'd been playing on the floor.

"Me see Argy, Gamma," Loras said, and only that Margaery spoke again, it would have been her grandson that she looked to.

"GAMMA," Margaery said and Olenna cared for naught else in the world but that for then and for some time after, her plans for the North and her reasoning behind them forgotten for now.

Dorne 284 AC.

Prince Doran Martell.

It had taken him more than a year to be able to think straight once more. The grief he felt over the deaths of his sister, uncle, niece and nephew was something he just couldn't fight away easily. Had it not been for Oberyn's return and his brother's rage, then he'd have continued to wallow in that grief. He'd have fallen prey to his nightmares each night, or to the images that he couldn't shake from his mind. Doran would have allowed for the screams he heard to drown out every other sound as they did most days.

When Jon Arryn had come and offered him platitudes but no justice, Doran had barely responded. Even now he could hardly remember meeting the new Hand of the King or what either of them had said and agreed to. What he did know was that the men responsible for his sister's and her children's deaths were not being offered up to them and would suffer no ill consequences from their most heinous of actions. Far from it. For was Tywin Lannister's daughter not named a queen? Was the Mountain who Rides still not a man who breathed air while his sister and her children did not?

Days had turned to weeks, weeks to moons. Others had run Dorne while he'd been little more than a figurehead. Then when he was at his lowest point and when he felt he could go on no further, Oberyn had returned. His brother's rage was a thing to behold, a fire that threatened to sweep over any in its path and it fuelled his own. It brought him out of his stupor, freed him from the depths of his despair, and gave him a thing to focus on. That thing was something that every son and daughter of Dorne knew well. Something that House Martell would one day see brought down on the heads of those who deserved it. Vengeance.

"Give me leave to do so, brother, give me the men and leave to do so," Oberyn said after telling him how he would see the Old Lion and his dogs in the ground for what they did to Elia and her children.

"Our army is broken and Casterly Rock cannot be taken even were it not. We'd bring the wrath of the Lions, Stags, Fishes, Falcons, and the Wolves down upon us, and we'd not see the morrow after we'd done so."

"I care not for the morrow, brother. I care not if it costs me my life as long as I take theirs in return." Oberyn said angrily.

"I have not so much family left that I can simply see more fall easily, brother."

"Then you'll do nothing?"

"I'll do as I must, as you must, we wait, we plan and when the time is right then you have my word. I'll not hold you back Oberyn. When the time is right to strike I'll not hold you back." he said as Oberyn moved to him and the two of them embraced.

Upon Oberyn's return, Dorne once again had a prince who ruled. With his brother's help, he saw to the things that only he could. He rebuilt the bridges he'd burned somewhat with his wife and children too. Mellario was far more understanding than he deserved and Quentyn was still too young to have a true concept of time and just how much he'd ignored him in those first few moons after King's Landing fell, thanks be to the gods. Arianne though required far more work, his daughter was older and clever too, at times he'd lost his temper with her attempts to soothe his wounded heart. So he'd done his best to explain to her his reasons why.

"It was never about you, my sweet child. I mourned you aunt, your cousins. I needed time to do so and I beg your forgiveness for not letting you comfort me when you tried."

"I miss them too, papa. I miss them too."

"I know you do, my love," he said holding her in his arms and letting her tears be the only ones that fell.

After setting Dorne to rights and tasking Oberyn to rebuild their shattered army, Doran was relieved to find that part of what he'd agreed with Jon Arryn was that all men who fought for Dorne were free to return home, he then finally looked to the state of the Realm. It was here that he saw hope where before he'd had none. Each snippet of news and morsel of information that had been gathered while he mourned, he now read and ate up eagerly.

He welcomed the death of Eddard Stark and that it was at the hands of a Dornishman. Though he found himself angered that it was a tower in his lands that Rhaegar Targaryen had secreted Lyanna Stark and that he'd left her in the care of Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Arthur Dayne. For had his sister had the Sword of the Morning to protect her then she and her children would live still. Had he been on the Trident then it would yet be a Targaryen who sat the throne and his kin would not have been butchered on the orders of Tywin Lannister.

Doran had no doubt that it was the Old Lion's direct orders that had led to Elia and her children's deaths. Not just because it was the Mountain who'd played such a terrible role in it, but because he could think as Tywin thought. He'd seek to bring an offering to the new king, a way to prove himself since he did not fight for him in the rebellion and he'd never forgotten that it was Elia chosen to be Rhaegar's princess and not Cersei. Tywin was a man who never forgave a slight and so he knew exactly what orders were given and in time he'd be happy to give similar ones to seal the Lannister's fate.

"My brother will take your head himself, Tywin and I'll hear you beg before he does so," he said as he looked to his next piece of correspondence.

He'd laid them all out in the order of receiving them. A timeline of events that he'd missed and now read through that painted a picture he'd not expected. A bastard son legitimized and named as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, boons given to see them rewarded for their part in the deaths of his kin. A queen regent escaping from Dragonstone with the entire royal fleet and half its treasury. Doran read the words and felt his heart race and as if it was the most exciting tome he'd ever read, he read on and on.

A full day and night he spent in his solar, just reading and learning all that he'd missed. From Robert's Rage inflicted upon Driftmark to Queen Rhaella's arrival in Braavos and Arthur Dayne's rescue of men who'd been sent to the Wall. Doran read each and every single piece of information, he had food and wine brought to his table, spoke but briefly to his wife and children, and left only to use the privy. Certain things stuck out to him, both giving him pause and yet not at the same time.

Rhaella lived.

Her son lived and by all accounts, she had a daughter too.

The Targaryens were not without means and were in place and position that kept them safe from Robert's Rage and Tywin's Fury.

In the North, its future lord was the son of Ashara Dayne, a babe born in Dorne and who'd one day rule over the largest kingdom of Westeros.

A kingdom that was growing in strength thanks to the Stag who sat the throne.

Ser Barristan Selmy had forsaken one white cloak and mayhap soon would be wearing another.

And last but by no means least.

King Viserys and Arianne were of age.

He let the thoughts sit in his head, and allowed them to lead him down the paths they wished him to go. Some of those paths he refused to travel. The danger and risk of walking them were far too much for him to yet consider. Others though, others, he walked happily and so after discarding some plans, he began to make different ones. Doran then finally took to his bed and slept a whole day and night. Waking up refreshed, he sent for Oberyn and spent time with his children and his wife.

When his brother arrived, he wasn't alone, which was not unusual. What very much was would be the woman who accompanied him. Doran knew Ellaria Sand, Lord Uller's bastard daughter, and she was a beautiful woman of that there was no doubt. Oberyn though had known and bedded many beautiful women in his life. It was rare to see him look at one how he did Ellaria and it brought a smile to Doran's face to see his brother so happy.

"Lady Ellaria, I beg your forgiveness but I needs must steal my brother away, mayhap you and my wife can speak and you'll join us for dinner this night won't you?" he asked, noticing Oberyn's even happier grin.

"I would be honored to, my prince."

"It's we who are honored by your presence, my lady," he said with a small bow of his head.

Oberyn chuckled as they walked to his solar, Areo two steps behind them as he always was when Doran walked the grounds of Sunspear.

"I did not know my brother held such charm," Oberyn said as they reached the room.

"I've always held it, how do you think Mellario puts up with me on my dourest days," he said to a fuller laugh.

They entered, sat down and Oberyn poured them both a glass of wine. As he did so, Doran reached into his drawer and took out the as yet unsealed letter.

"Brother?"

"For Queen Rhaella, brother, I need you to make a discreet visit to Braavos," he said as Oberyn read the words, the glint in his brother's eye one that he most welcomed seeing.

"This is the way?" Oberyn asked.

"This is the way," he said and Oberyn chuckled as he handed him back the letter and then drank down his wine.

"I'll leave on the morrow."

Braavos 284 AC.

Ferrego Antaryon The Sealord of Braavos.

He'd wanted her from the moment he'd seen her. Her beauty put even the Black Pearl to shame and for her, he was willing to give up all the other women in his life. When he'd told her so, she'd laughed and clearly didn't believe him, but he had spoken truly for no other woman offered him what she could. Her name, her beauty, were it for that alone then he'd probably have still made her the offer he had. The children they could have together would rule over lands he'd not dared to dream about, just with the Dragonblood that would run in their veins alone. Yet it was more than just who Rhaella Targaryen was or how she looked that had stoked the fires of desire within him.

Her fleet was as large as his own, mayhap even larger. While Braavos could call on more men to defend it than she brought to bear, he doubted that would be true in time and more and more had arrived to swear to her since she'd first arrived here, proving him right. Together their combined might wouldn't just see that Braavos would never be challenged or at risk, but they could look outward, seek further lands where the shackles of bondage were not welcomed. Who knew how many men they could free if they were joined as one?

Rhaella had a wit and intelligence about her too which was something he most enjoyed. She had a firm grasp on politics and the motives of men. One that was forged like his own was in the flames of betrayal. The woman he wished as his wife knew what it was like to need to be wary and distrustful. To surround yourself only with those you believed were willing to give up their lives for yours. In the Sword of the Morning, as with his own First Sword Syrio Forel, she had such a man close to her and there were others too. Other than all of that, she had one more thing that fuelled his desire for her, spirit. As she showed most clearly when in his eagerness to get her to agree to the match, he spoke of the Iron Throne and of having a daughter of theirs wed to her son when he took back his crown.

"No son or daughter we have will rule in Westeros, Sealord, my son will not rule in Westeros lest the gods are cruel." Rhaella angrily replied when he'd brought up the idea of their child and her own being wed as was the Targaryen way.

"I understand not, Queen Rhaella?"

"It is not Viserys who is to be King of Westeros, that duty falls to my son's heir, to my grandson."

"But your son is…"

"I had another did I not?"

He looked at her confused, wishing not to bring up what had happened to Prince Rhaegar's son and yet knowing that he must.

"I thought.."

"Aemon, not Aegon," Rhaella said and though confused still, he could see her ire rising and while he welcomed it, it would get them nowhere.

"I will not seek what it is you don't wish me to, Queen Rhaella. Braavos and lands in Essos are enough for our offspring should the gods favor us and as for you grandson who is to be king, he would be my kin by marriage too and so I'd be obligated to offer him what support I can," he said and thanked the gods when she smiled.

"Then you may call me, Rhaella."

"Ferrego." he said and then had to ask "My offer, does this mean you've accepted?"

"It means my answer is far closer to one than the other, far closer," she replied and he chuckled.

In her time here, knives had been sent and some of them he'd disposed of before they ever got even close to her. Others she'd seen to their ends herself, again proving just how capable she was. Attempted assassinations were a way of life for the man who sat in his chair. Just like a king or queen, he served for life and so when someone sought to take his role for themselves, it was knives in the night that they sent to see it so. His own rising to the position had involved many knives and that was when the seat was vacant, so he knew all too well what it was like to live with a sentence of death over your head.

Rhaella bore it well, as well as he, and that was something that even his First Sword, Syrio Forel had noticed about her when Ferrego had asked his opinion on his betrothal offer. If she needed a final seal of approval or he needed a final confirmation that this was the right choice of bride for him, that had been it. So when she actually sent word that she'd accepted, he rejoiced and they had spoken many times from that day forward about the nature of the marriage both sought. He knew he'd surprised her somewhat in some of the things he'd said, Rhaella happy to see it was a queen he wished to wed and not a withering maiden.

Now as the day was finally upon him, Ferrego felt nervous both for it and the night to come. To lay with a dragon was not something many found themselves lucky enough to do, to wed one, even less, and for a Sealord it was the first time such a thing had ever actually come to pass. Braavos celebrated the news, the wedding itself was to be lavish and they had many visitors from the Free Cities and beyond, some more welcomed than others. Had she but asked it of him, then the Eunuch would have met his end before the day was done. As too would the knight who'd knelt to a usurping king, yet she had a use for each of them and so he deferred to her will on both.

As he did about the wedding itself. They would be wed in dual ceremonies, one at the Temple of the Moonsingers and the other at the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea. The wedding feast would then be held in his palace and his new bride and her children had already moved into it earlier that week. Walking from his chambers, he nodded to Syrio and they made their way to his pleasure barge. Once aboard, it was rowed to the island that houses the Temple of the Moonsingers. Arriving there he felt as nervous as if he were a green boy and not a man of an age with his new bride. His steps at first were stumbling and he laughed and shook his head when Syrio asked was he well.

"I am my friend, how could I not be when she is to be my bride," he said drawing the First Sword's attention to Rhaella.

She wore an off-white dress, her silver hair worn loose and she looked like the maiden that those in the Sept would speak of. It was clear she was nervous and yet when he stood beside her, her resolve was what shone through. So caught up was he in her expression and her beauty that he barely heard the words or the blessings that were given to them by the priestesses. Less than an hour later they were disembarking his barge together and walking the path that led to the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea. Her children, both of them, the babe being held by a woman he knew not, and the boy dressed as a dragon prince, both walked behind them.

Once again he barely heard the words spoken by the Septon and she had to nudge him to get him to repeat them, something which seemed to amuse her greatly. Then before the sun had set, they were back at his palace and were man and wife in the eyes of the gods. Her own and his. They spoke few words to each other, not because of any lack of will to do so on either of their parts, but simply because of the day that they were sharing. His nerves were matched by her own and it was not until the meal was done and the gift-giving began that they truly spoke together.

"My Queen, Sealord, I wish you both all the happiness you deserve." a Westerosi in her service said as he gifted her some silks which she seemed to like.

"Queen Rhaella, Sealord, forgive me for not knowing of your wedding and so not bringing something from my homeland." Prince Oberyn Martell said as he laid out a knife for him and a pearl-ringed necklace for Rhaella.

"There is naught to forgive, Prince Oberyn, and your gifts are most appreciated," Rhaella said smiling at the man, a slightly false one if Ferrego was to wager.

They received gifts from the great and good of Braavos, jewels for his bride from the Iron Bank, and then finally it was time for him to present his own gifts with a nod to Syrio, the chest was brought in and Ferrego rose to his feet.

"I have been gifted by the very gods themselves in the form of your hand, Queen Rhaella. The least I can do is try to come close to matching such a gift. Many years ago a woman came to Braavos and under a false name, Alys Westhill, she sold the contents of that chest to one of the men who sat my chair before me." he said and Rhaella looked at him with intrigue "Her true name was Elissa Farman and the items she sold belonged to your House, I now gift them back to you, my wife."

Opening up the chest, he laid it down at her feet and she smiled broadly at him when she saw what it contained. The eggs had turned to stone over the years, they'd been kept in the vaults and rarely saw the light of day. To him, they meant little, to his wife it was clear just how much they meant, and with a nod to him, she rose and then knelt down to run her fingers over the three dragon eggs.

"A most worthy gift and one most well-received, you have more than matched the gods, my husband, more than matched them."

Winterfell 284 AC.

Barbrey Stark.

Her feet led her to the entrance of the crypts without her even realizing it. She was crying, her heart raging with anger, and she entered the Starks' resting place to vent her grievances.

She had known since the beginning that Ashara Dayne's story was lacking. Eddard Stark was too dour to sleep with someone other than his wife, and the dates didn't add up as far as she knew. Still, she had felt that she could let this go, for Jon was obviously of Stark blood and rightfully entitled to Winterfell. She had thought him Brandon's, and mayhaps her feelings for him were somewhat biased her in caring for Jon as if he was her own.

Yet he wasn't. He was a Targaryen.

A trueborn Targaryen.

She stood in front of Lyanna's statue, shaking with anger.

"Shame on you." she spat. "Shame on you for not sending word about your whereabouts. Shame on you for hiding while your family worried about you, so you could live your tale of knights and maids in distress. To think your wolfsblood and your attitude caused so much death, so much torment... Your own brother came to your rescue, for what? Did you cry when Brandon died? When your father burned? You probably didn't shed a tear for Rickard, he was a cunt, and you a selfish brat. And now I am to raise your son! I have to protect him and hide his truth because you were too self-absorbed to send word of your marriage. How dare you leave your brother with this responsibility? He mourns you still. His heart is too pure. He mourns you and the rest of your family. I hope that whenever you are you are ashamed of yourself!"

She turned to Brandon's statue, still seething.

"And you, you damn fool! You didn't see fit to say anything to anyone about your sister and what was happening to her! Why did you have to run to the Red Keep and threaten the Mad King himself?"

"Because it was Varys who told him about Aerys' desire to see Lyanna punished, not Rhaegar." Barbrey was startled and turned to see Ashara Dayne standing near her. "By the time they fended off Aerys' envoys and sent word that Lyanna was safe, Brandon was already imprisoned."

"Did your brother report this to you?" she spat disdainfully.

"I was there, Barbrey. I was at Dragonstone when Rhaegar received word of Aerys' plan to capture the Knight of the Laughing Tree. I traveled with him to the Red Keep, hoping that I would be able to help should things turn sour with Aerys. I was there when Brandon came and asked for him to come out and die. I was there when..." Ashara took a deep breath, but Barbrey could still hear the emotion in her voice. "I had to leave after he lost his life because Aerys had heard me plead the case to let him go. Queen Rhaella was the one to buy me passage to Starfall. Had it not been for her, I too would be dead."

"Is this why you agreed to play this mummery? Because you felt indebted to House Targaryen?"

"Partly, yes."

"Weren't you friends with Princess Elia? How can you condone what Rhaegar did to her, to-"

"I do not. Believe me, I have cursed Rhaegar many times for his stupidity. Lyanna... When I heard of their union, I despised her too. They should have done things better. They should have. But Jon is not his parents and I couldn't let my child's family be at risk. I just couldn't let another babe die when I could prevent it."

Barbrey stared at the woman in confusion.

"Another babe… What are you…" Ashara's gaze full of tears locked with her and she recoiled in horror at what she was implying. "You were with child… You had his child…"

"It… Wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. I fell in love with him at Harrenhal. I knew nothing good would come out of it. I tried to forget about him, knowing he was about to wed another woman, and in love with another one already…"

Ashara's words drowned into Barbrey's mind as the implications dawned on her. She turned to Brandon's statue once more and cursed him in her head for having betrayed his vow to her. She hadn't been naive enough to realize that Brandon was sleeping around. He loved women's attention probably as much as Robert Baratheon did. There were few brothels in the North and tavern wenches were more than prudent enough to take moon tea after spending time with some Lord or their heir, so she never worried about him bringing a bastard into the world. Only the ones they had planned to have together and to pass as Willam's were to be.

"I understand the bond you felt with Jon," she said weakly. "What I do not is why you pushed him to be Lord of Winterfell knowing-"

"Aemon Targaryen is the rightful king of the Seven kingdoms. But Aemon Targaryen would be dead already if his truth had been revealed. He needed the cover of Jon Stark to be protected from those who would wish him harm. I heard the rumors about Ned Stark and me, and so I used it to protect my king."

"Your king? You truly expect him to claim the Iron Throne?"

"He has the support of his grandmother. And as the future Lady of Winterfell, I hope he will gain yours."

"You… You want the North to stand behind Rhaegar Targaryen's son?" Barbrey said incredulously. "They won't accept the truth! They won't accept him as King! They will never go to war for a dragon!"

"But they will stand up for a Wolf. For a son of House Stark who will prove himself to be a great Warden of the North. You said it yourself, Barbrey when we talked in the Godswood. The North will judge him by his valor far more than for his name."

"You really think you can pull this off?" Barbrey scoffed, still dumbfounded.

"I think we will. And your babe will be the Lord or Lady of Winterfell when your nephew by marriage will be King."

This gave Barbrey pause. She remembered their conversation in the Godswood, moons ago, and the assurance Ashara had that she would be rewarded if she accepted Jon as family.

"Does Benjen know what you're planning? Is he supporting this folly?"

"Mayhaps you should ask him yourself. For better or for worse, he is your husband and I know he must be relieved that you know the truth, though not how you found it out. It was never to be kept from you, not for long anyway." Ashara said and Barbrey despite not wishing to believe her, could hear no lie in her words.

She left her overwhelmed with emotions, her mind going to her new family and what she had learned that day. She cared for Benjen, even more so since she was having his child, and the eventuality of a war to make Jon king scared her. It was obviously what Ashara and the former Queen had in mind, to use Jon as their pawn to retrieve what they felt was stolen unjustly from them and through him to enact their vengeance on who they blamed for stealing it.

Barbrey walked back to her rooms and halted near the nursery when she heard Jon's boisterous laugh. It had been so rare for him to sound so joyful that she went to see the reason for his happiness and froze as she saw him with the dragon egg again.

He stopped playing with it and his smile disappeared upon seeing her. Barbrey thought she must look horrible, with her face swollen with tears still threatening to fall.

"Bey?" he said inquisitively, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes with curiosity.

"All is well, dear." she lied, trying to smile.

"Bey?" Jon insisted and she cried more openly seeing her goodnephew's visible concern.

She thought about him, about the burden the Targaryens were putting on a babe. Raising Jon in Winterfell would make sure that they would bring forward a good lad, a caring and respectable Lord who would know how to rule, but Barbrey had lost so much because of the last war that she would rather let things go. She wanted to tell the Targaryens to give it up, to let Jon grow as a Stark, and not to bring him into their mess. Queen Rhaella had a son, surely she could crown him and leave their family be!

He approached her slowly, as if he didn't know how to, and, to her surprise, tended his prized egg in her direction.

"You… It's… For me?" she blubbered to a nodding Jon.

"Egg… My… Bey…"

Her fingers grazed his little ones as he seemingly reluctantly offered the egg before reaching out to her tears. So touched by his action she was that she forgot about the egg and took him in her arms. She felt his little body relax against her and focused on the feeling of Jon against her. This was a babe, a little boy who needed her and who too cared for her in his own way.

A flutter in her stomach made her gasp in shock. It was not the first time she could feel it, but now she was sure it was her babe. Her babe would grow up with their loving cousin and serve him as their bannermen.

Or the future Warden of the North serving their King and kin… Or more… some voice akin to her father's rang into her head.

She tried to shake the thought out and groaned in frustration. Now was not the time to get seduced by false promises. She had not trusted Ashara completely before and she had been proved right not to do so. She was working for an ulterior motive, for a Targaryen restoration, and she would be damned if she ever let her family be manipulated by Targaryens.

Barbrey only realized that she had spent most of the day playing with Jon and Egg when Benjen came looking for her. She could see the concern in his eyes, so much like Jon's, and it made her smile. He sent Wylla to fetch something to eat for the three of them and then he watched his nephew's interaction with her in silence.

Only after she put Jon and Egg to bed, the boy looking happier than she'd ever seen him through his slumber, did she say something to her husband.

"Never hide anything from me. I want to know everything when it comes to him."

"Aye. I promise."

"I want to be consulted when a decision needs to be taken."

"You already are, Barbrey."

"And I want to know what you know about the Targaryens' whereabouts," she said to another nod from Benjen. "Good. Now I want to enjoy my husband's return."

Should Jon's path lead to the Iron Throne, it would be on his own terms, not Rhaella Targaryen's, not Ashara Dayne's. And she would be there to make sure everything would be done to the best of his interests.

Because he was Jon and he was her blood now too.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next We jump forward a couple of years as Westeros plays host to the birth of a new prince, a lady of Storm's End, the North's improvements begin to bear fruit and Winterfell too welcomes the birth of a babe. In Essos Rhaella expands her influence with the Sealord's backing and Jon is sent a man to act as a protector and mentor. While Benjen brings more people into the know about Jon's truth.

The Sphinx. I welcome them whenever you post them, my friend.

The Last Northumbrian: We'll be seeing a closer look at the improvements to the North next chapter. Moat Cailin, Sea Dragon Point, the new one on the Eastern Coast, and the Gift will all seek to be done, a lot of work going on. In regards to Jon's circle of friends, Domeric will certainly be fostering at WF and he won't be alone in that. Benjen is not Ned and Barbrey knows even better the value of good ties with the sons and heir of the North.

DBZ: Ashara/Benjen/Barbrey is at best a reluctant alliance. And Ashara doesn't have any actual power so her moves can and are questioned and at times blocked. In regards to Benjen being a Stark of Old, in some ways yes he will be, he'll certainly be more wolf than Ned was in that regard and he'll come more into his own as he ages. Jon's path is not WF, it's just the path he looks to be on. As for the Tyrells, politically and practically they're the best match which is why I use them so much in this type of setup and why Rhaella would pick Margaery to be the future queen. If there was another that offered as much, they'd be who was looked at.

Zhovrak: You were a chapter too early, my friend. Jon C is here now and we'll see what role he has to play as for fAegon, if he does appear, Jon C won't be a part of that plotline.

Nagiten: There weren't any words missing, it was more that Rhaella simply didn't spell out the issues. The issue in regards to Jon with Dorne is who his mother was and all that brings up, where with Viserys it's a much easier sell. Now could you sell Jon to Dorne, yes, but right from the start you'd have to deal with the hurt feelings, issues, and problems that him being Lyanna's son would bring up and so it could derail things right away and worse than that, if they actually sought to make Jon pay for his father/mother's actions, it would be easy to do so.

With Viserys, none of that comes up. Wyman doesn't want to risk that the new naval fleet will compete with his own or that the new city would rise to compete with White Harbor. Wendell has no heirs, so what would happen if he died? Would the new city still fall under Wyman's family or go to another, this way, no matter what, White Harbor remains the key trading city and that's something that is within his control.

Malser: So very glad you liked it.

King of summer: A lot of the beginnings will be built like that, with more stone and brick coming much later on. Queenscrown basically has the beginnings of it done as does Moat Cailin, so they'll be easier to make out of stone, but a lot of the early stuff will be wood and like that. We have a big idea about improving the North's military but it's a couple of years away in the story timeline. With Jon's name, I think yes that Eddard would be a likely name to sell it. But here part of the reason they go with Jon is to play up both the Jon Stark comparison and to make Jon Arryn feel honored by Ned's final deed so to speak.

The one big problem with using Eddard is that having another Ned, even with Ned dead, really would be confusing at times.

Rhaegar Living is a hard sell for me unless you go with a Rhaegar wins AU.

Celexys: Giving the changes, especially to the North and Essos, it's much easier to just go chronologically than starting at a future point and then having to explain why x or y is now a thing. While we won't spend countless chapters on Jon's childhood, we want to do enough so that all the relationships, all the changes, are known and seen take place. So when later we go the North is powerful or it has a navy now, we're not just pulling it out of our arses so to speak. I also like the idea of seeing Jon and others grow up and watching the changes happen to the realm as they do so. We have in canon the older Jon, we don't see the younger one enough.

Dunk: Thanks so much. That's sort of what we're going for with Barbrey/Ashara and with Benjen too, at times there will be obvious disagreements and you have moments like here with the Egg or with Arthur freeing the prisoners where Ashara is blamed and yet not truly at fault too. So in time, they'll be on a more even keel, yet always have that little contentious relationship too. Barry couldn't go to WF, he broke his oath, he'd not be accepted there and Robert would never allow it. So off to Rhaella it was, with Jaime that's the thing. As time goes on, it'll worm its way into his mind and he'll always have one eye looking east.

Jon without Ghost is just wrong IMO, so yes we'll be seeing our wolfy friend soon enough. Glad you liked the egg bit, as you see they'll do all they can to hide it, and we'll see a further explanation being brought up that will make hiding it less of an issue, just as Nan did here. With Cersei, I think had Robert not said Lyanna's name that first night, she may have given him an heir. But she's a woman who can't accept a slight and is spiteful and for me the moment he did it, that was it in that regard. She also of course was arrogant enough to believe she could get away with it, and well she almost did.

MSKN: I sort of did the Jon being the architect of the changes in Dragon Cub and so here I wanted it to be a combination of people. Rhaella and Ashara but also Benjen and Barbrey and we'll see all playing a part to make the North stronger. Jon/Marge will be political and not a match either are looking forward to, we'll see that as we go. I've done the Jon/Marge love at first sight and true love story, here it'll be not exactly enemies to lovers, but certainly not a match either are looking forward to keenly. Theon won't be a hostage in the North no. Benjen is not Ned and his relationship with Robert wouldn't allow for it. Rhaella has a goal and she'll do whatever she can to see that goal completed, the Sealord guarantees her family's safety and gives them, even more, to bring to bear on Jon's behalf, plus it means she doesn't need to sell off Dany and so she's always going to accept IMO. In regards to Jaime, his arc will be somewhat similar to canon initially.

Thrandull: I'll not use a House Dustin member for Barrowtown, however, I do like the idea of using one and so I've come up with a plotline involving the Gift and so we'll see one there and see Barrowtown's succession brought up, so keep your eyes peeled and know it was your words that convinced me.

Xan Merrick: So very glad you liked it, my friend. Jon without Ghost just isn't Jon IMO so we'll be seeing the white wolf here.

DoRodrigo: We'll see Rhaella look to Olenna in a while, she's waiting for something to happen first, can't say what. You've no idea how much easier it is to write with a co-writer, it really does halve the work.

Creativo: Tan contento de que te haya gustado, deseamos que fuera divertido.

Guest: So glad you liked it. Cersei's getting rid of Robert's babe is canon, the show made it out like he died and some have speculated that Gendry is their son and she abandoned him, but in canon, she actually just got rid of the babe before it was born. I think Cersei is petty and it makes her dumb, she doesn't consider things through, she acts and reacts and so nothing would really force her to do things for logic. We'll see more of Jaime's thoughts as we go on and things will prey on his mind a lot.

With Robert's actions, on their own they may have sent the right message, with Barristan leaving, they send a wrong one. A lot of people won't be best pleased about them and yet some like Olenna will worry about them too.

Rhaella living is never given enough oomph for me in a fic, it should be big, important as she changes the game a lot. Like you say the Targ cause is so much more a threat here because of it, she's taken more and has two potential kings (only one known about) and a princess, she also has the means that Dany/Vis didn't' when Ser Willem died. Having Arthur, Ser Willem, and others by her side gives her a shadow court almost, again what Dany/Vis didn't have, it gives her a platform and she intends to use it. With the Sealord, it's all of the above and her looks and name that he seeks.I sort of agree with you, the Targs in the Rebellion were split somewhat, but the Rebels got lucky too, had Mace marched, they lose, it's that simple. So even with the split, luck played a huge part. With Jaime it's just too early for him, he's still in love with Cersei, but with every little setback, everything he let go in canon, here will be on his mind with the thoughts of Arthur/Rhaella too and his eyes won't stop looking east.

I say constantly that in a Jon looks south early fic, Marge is the most logical choice. She doesn't bring the problems a match with Arianne may for Jon, and brings more men, gold, and supplies. So if you have Rhaella seeking to see Jon crowned, to ignore that match and go for another just doesn't make any sense to me. Jon doesn't really need legitimacy as much as people think, he needs the will of the lords and that's a very different thing. Would Olenna accept a bastard Jon who brought the North? I think she would, far easier than she would Joffrey. Faced with a choice between a bastard Jon and a legitimate Dany, the lords of Westeros would pick Jon too. Now this is simply on name, canon Dany has the army and so she'd win out over canon Jon is a choice was to be made, but simply on name alone, bastard or trueborn it matters little unless you've got a trueborn son to stand against you.

So here he needs no legitimacy, though in Rhaella he has it. Dany bring him nothing that Rhaella can't bring him herself and so they would seek another ally in marriage. Olenna would be more limited because of Rhaella and others, yes, plus Jon will be trained to be a lord, he won't be a shrinking violet here.

The Sealord is not hereditary, it's for life and that's it. He has the reasons above to want to marry Rhaella and a long-term plan too. With Barbrey/Ashara they're never going to be close friends or even ever truly like each other but they will have a truce of sorts. Hope the chapter explained what Aemon was up to, it was either an accident or a quirk of fate that led Jon to the egg, you decide. The Greyjoy rebellion will be a big moment for Benjen, won't say more than that. Cat/Stannis are happyish, both are trying to make the best out of their situations and Stannis is far happier with his lot in life here. As for LF, we'll see.

On Olenna/Tywin/Doran/Oberyn, this was just an initial look into them, we'll be delving far more into their motives and moves as we go forward. In terms of the Greyjoys, we'll see them around their canon invasion time.

Thanks for the long well thought out review, it means a lot.

Keb: It would have been had that been the intent, but accidents do happen lol.

Yenerys: I'm not sure I ever saw that ship done before, you make me want to lol. I agree I think Oberyn would rage and rant, then calm and move on, whereas Doran to me was never interested in justice for Elia and the Children as much as he was in putting his blood on the Iron Throne.

Mr. Klortno: What I'm trying to do with Arthur is show both sides of things. Of course, the North, those who lost their lives at the TOJ and Barbrey/Benjen would take issue with Arthur, the rights or wrongs of it don't come into it, that would be the case and needs to be shown. Same as here with Barbrey blaming Lyanna. As the truth outs, people would understand, but it's hard to forgive. For example, Jon if he was Ned's son, would find it hard to forgive Arthur even were he truly his uncle. As Rhaegar's son, It's a different line, but the two sort of intermix and so we'll see that be addressed.

But I do find it funny that people get so annoyed (not you) at a Targ supporter not looking fondly on Ned and yet wish a Stark one to not look fondly on Rhaegar/Arthur etc. Ned Stark literally names Arthur as the finest knight he ever knew in canon. Which pretty much shows his actions at the TOJ in a certain light, so that's the light I'm going for, with the added wrinkle that this time it was Ned who fell.

I think understood but not forgiven may be right, though I find it hard to see the entire North seeing it the same way. At the end of the day, it was war and a fair fight, Howland Reed's version of things will be the key. Will Benjen ever forgive Arthur, would Barbrey, no. Would the Greatjon or Rickard Karstark? Maybe.
How much who was responsible for the deaths will be a recurring question here though.

Black Basilisk: That was my thought too in regards to the Sealord, he's one of the most powerful men in the known world and one of the wealthiest. It's said that the FM has a special arrangement with the Sealord's too, so with that and the Iron Bank, only a fool or a mad man would try and take them on, hence why Braavos has remained free for as long as it has. The northern alliance is a key part of this and why I wanted it to be Barbrey and Benjen and not say Benjen and Ashara, I wanted that element of things, to see the North be the North and we'll see that as we go. With Benjen and I've been guilty of this too, even when he's not sent to the Wall he barely gets a look in with most fics so here he's as big a character as Ned which he sort of can't be if Ned lives.

I always think at times GRRM does what I like to refer to as Georgism, he starts down a plotline that makes a certain amount of sense and then ignores little things within that plotline, betrothal is a key thing he messes up on. So like you say, Rickard seeks two matches outside the North, but keeps Ned unmatched, why? Why not match him to Barbrey or to another Northern House? Well if he does that then we can't have Cat/Ned, can we? So to get to the plot point the wants, he ignores the logic he uses.

It's why Hoster who sells off two daughters and is dying, doesn't seek a match for his son and heir and so goes completely against his character or why Tywin who took down two houses and all who lived there, doesn't seek to do the same with the Greyjoy's or seek them more punished for destroying his fleet, we can't have it because GRRM needs the plotline open and so creates a Georgism.

My whole goal here was to make a change and mix things up, and to do so as easily and logically as possible, Ned/Robb's deaths giving us Arthur/Rhaella allows for that and I'm glad you're liking the changes.