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.

7. Hey, Hey, We're the Greyjoys

The Sunset Sea 289 AC.

Euron Greyjoy.

He was hard as a rock, harder than he had ever been with any thrall, salt wife, or woman unlucky enough to take his fancy. Nothing could ever compete with the thoughts of blood to be shed and proving just how clever he truly was in making the blood flow right to his cock. Were he not already armored and ready for the battle to come, then his erection would be clear to any who looked his way instead of being pressed down uncomfortably against his leg. Not that it bothered Euron any, as simply the feel of it brought him a comfort that few other things did. It showed him that he was truly alive and it was only at moments such as these that he felt that way.

The Silence cut through the waves as if they were nothing, the other ships that were sailing as part of his convoy were barely able to keep up with his own. He was the true master of the seas, the true descendant of the Grey King. Euron was touched by the Drowned God himself and he carried his favor far more truly than any of his fool brothers. It had been he who'd come up with a plan that was so simple and yet so beyond Balon that it still made him laugh to think of it. Only he who had balls big enough to sneak right into the Lion's Den, pull on his tail, and piss in his face before sailing away unharmed and unmolested.

While Balon spoke of victories to come and of them reaving and raiding the green lands of Westeros. As Victarion was named Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet and Aeron named their brother the Grey King come again, it had been he who'd come up with the most audacious plan that any Ironborn had attempted in many a year. And what had been his reward for such? Nothing, but to suffer the ignominy of being passed over for the command to see that plan carried through. To be made to follow rather than lead the attack, to simply take part rather than to be the one in command. He bristled at it, fought down the voices in his head that demanded he sought revenge for the slight, and promised that he'd get even with his foolish brothers one day.

That day was not to be this one, however. This day was to be one of bloodshed and fire. Laughing loudly as he saw the outline of Casterly Rock in the distance, Euron almost felt the need to press on ahead and countermand his brother's orders. Instead, he ordered for two of the sails to be dropped and allowed Victarion and his Iron Victory to catch up and overtake him. No matter who lit the first flame or launched the attack though, this was to be his victory, his glory and in time it would be his name that songs were sung of. The Crow's Eye would one day be the only Ironborn that struck fear into the hearts of the Greenlanders. On this Euron loudly made his vow.

"Hoist the black sails," he shouted and he was pleased to see it done in half the time it took Victarion and others to do likewise.

With black sails and no sigils showing and with all the lights on each of the ships having been extinguished, they began to row silently towards Lannisport. He'd heard tale told of the pride that Tywin Lannister had felt at assembling his fleet. Of how it was, while not the largest in Westeros, the greatest, and yet looking at it as it lay at anchor, all he could see was the flames that would soon envelop each and every single ship his eye roamed over.

While he hated that the honor of throwing the first torch would fall to Victarion and that it would be he that burned Tywin Lannister's flagship, he still looked on with eager eyes as their ships moved closer to the Lannister ones. The sight of the burning torch as it flew through the sky some distance ahead of him was one that transfixed him. Euron watched as it spun in the air and then as it hit home. The sails lit up and then with his own torch soon flying towards a different and lesser Lannister ship, the attack on Lannisport had truly begun.

The sky was lit up with a thousand torches. All around him, ships burned and he could even smell the flesh of those who had been unlucky enough to be on board when they had thrown their torches. It was a glorious sight to behold and his hand reached down to press against his still stiff cock. Hearing the sound of men jumping into the water to douse the flames that had taken hold of their bodies or clothes, Euron moved to the rail of the Silence so he could look overboard. Calling for a bow, his eye sought and soon found men who'd been lucky enough to either escape their fiery fate unscathed or had doused out the flames that had enveloped them. He lined up his shots and began to fire, feeling his cock twitch as each arrow hit home.

When one fool managed to swim or float too close to the Silence it was his ax that he found instead of a helping hand. Euron almost spent in his britches as the ax struck home. That sweet release was not too far away and it was the sight of a ship filled with men burning alive that brought it on. There had to be twenty or more and so lost were they to the flames that they'd not even tried to jump overboard. Instead, they simply screamed out in their agony as the flames took first their skin, then their blood and bones, and finally their lives from them.

"FUCKING GLORIOUS!" he shouted as he spilled his seed "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING GLORIOUS!"

He called for wine and had to take a seat so as to catch his breath. Not even with a woman had he spent so truly and he could feel it as it ran down his leg. As he drank his wine, he heard the sound of his seed dripping onto the deck of the Silence and he looked upon it with glee. In the fiery night's sky, it looked as if it was alive and moving and Euron sat drinking his wine and watching it with fascination. So long did he stare at what had dripped down his leg, over his boots, and onto the deck of his ship, that he was the last captain to give orders to sail away from Lannisport.

Even later as he lay in his bed and rubbed his hand over where his seed had dried on his leg, it was with images of the deck above that his mind was filled with. At what point he moved to the bottle containing the blue liquid, he knew not, but he tasted its horrible taste at some point. Drinking down as much of it as he needed, Euron closed his eyes and allowed the visions to wash over him. It had been Shade of the Evening that had given him the plan to attack the Lannister fleet and so he now wished to see what his next course of action would be.

Wolves and Dragons filled his dreams, wolves with teeth larger than any sword and who bit into any they faced. He saw Stags and Lions, Falcons and Trouts, yet it was Wolves and Dragons that loomed largest of all. There were so many of them, they were everywhere and he looked on as the Krakens shrunk away in fear.

The skies above offered them no respite, while the seas which had always been their friend now seemed to want no part of them. Ships with wolves as their figureheads blotted the sea and above in the sky, the dragons were ever-present. He saw young not yet fully grown Krakens fall to the ferocity of the wolves they faced. Saw others crawling away and looking on as the wolves took their young from them. His black sails were seen as they tried to outrun the wolves and yet it was the dragons that followed and their flames that brought about his end.

A man dark of hair, two of silver, and a woman's voice that sounded as sweet as any he had ever heard all changed in the blink of an eye into the roars or dragons as their flames were unleashed and he felt them even in his fevered state. He saw it then, the path that was open to him, the only path that led him away from the flames, he saw it and he turned to it, sailed towards it, and left the wolves and the dragons far behind. Only a fool would face them now and so he'd leave that to his fools of brothers. In time, not even wolves' teeth or dragon's flames would he be fearful of. For now though fear was not a bad thing to have.

Euron woke to find himself covered in sweat. He drank the remainder of the wine down in one swallow and dressed before making his way back to the deck of his ship. Around him, he could see the fleet they'd brought to bear on the lions, a fleet that few would be able to withstand. Soon enough it would be Seagard and the rest of the green lands that would be their targets and yet he knew that the die had already been cast. This rebellion was doomed. It would only end in failure, but in failure, there were opportunities too, and though he was not a patient man by nature, to beat wolves and dragons he knew that he'd need to be.

Winterfell 289 AC.

Barbrey Stark.

She could count on one hand the number of times that her coupling with her husband had been interrupted ever since she got married. Tonight seemed like it would be one of those nights and even Luwin's sheepish attitude in front of her husband's nakedness would not stop her frustration from growing.

"A raven arrived, with a void seal, addressed to Lady Ashara, my Lord," Luwin said, all but looking at Benjen who was putting some clothes on reluctantly. "It says that the Ironborn are on the move and to protect our shores, and I thought it so strange I couldn't wait for..."

"I understand, Luwin, and I thank you, though my wife will not." her husband chuckled, making her scoff. "Wake Lady Ashara and Lord Manderly. We'll join you in my solar."

Luwin nodded and bolted out of the room while she stood and readied to get dressed. She knew it was more of the Maester's curiosity than any real threat to the North that had prompted him to come to their room.

"Don't you think it is time to take him in our confidence?" she wondered out loud.

"No."

"You do not trust him?" she asked curiously.

"For all we know, he has to report on anything unusual that happens back to the Citadel."

"Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if the story about Egg came from him."

"And you want me to let him in on our secret?" Benjen asked quizzically.

"That's not what I said, but someday we will have to be honest with him regarding the information we receive and its source."

"It's too dangerous. He is a scholar, he will piece things together and I do not think he is loyal enough to our family not to report this to his superiors. Not yet"

"Mayhap he has done so already, Ben. Our dealings with Essos and with the Wall are not so subtle. Even with Ashara to cover things up, I don't think it is enough to stop a scholar from thinking and following those thoughts to where they may lead."

"You think he would betray us?" Benjen asked, fully dressed now.

"I think it is better to ensure he is on our side, that is all," she said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Now let's get this over with so we can go back to where we were. The quicker the better!"

Benjen laughed loudly and for a moment Barbrey thought about putting the meeting off for a little longer, but she knew they couldn't. An Ironborn attack was something far too important to put aside, even though they had been prepared for it.

She rolled her eyes upon seeing Ashara's knowing smirk as she sat down in the solar. Had the Maester not been present, Barbrey knew what the other lady would have said to her, and it annoyed her greatly. She was however relieved that they'd decided to act on the information that they had been given a little over a moon ago.

"I received word from the Wall. Braavos is warning us that the Ironborn are done building their fleet. They captured some galleys near the Summer Islands as well as supplies from the Free Cities, before then returning to the Iron Islands. It is believed that they have gathered a total of close to one hundred ships in the last five years and that they are preparing for a grand reaving across Westeros." Ashara had said in a secret meeting.

"Impossible. We've been monitoring the Iron Islands for years. They don't have the means to build that many ships." Barbrey had retorted.

"Mayhaps not, but what about those they would capture? We wouldn't have been warned if the threat was not serious." she insisted.

"We have to tread carefully here." Benjen had said. "If this is true, then we don't have enough ships west to withstand an Ironborn attack. We may have to ask for the Crown's help."

"And tell them who we got our information from?" Ashara frowned.

"Do you see another alternative?"

"We could warn the Arbor. The Redwyne fleet -"

"No. Dealing with the Reach will put yet another target on our backs," Benjen stated.

"We cannot move all of our eastern fleet either. The Crown has spies everywhere and it will raise suspicions too."

" 'Tis the best option we have, though. Telling both the Redwynes or the Lannisters about this, should it turn out to be false information or a misunderstanding, would do us no good." Benjen sighed.

"We can always use the pretext of you wanting to protect the new ships you are about to build at Sea Dragon Point from any Ironborn attack to move some but not all of the fleet. It would not be too out of the ordinary to name it so." Ashara had said and she had nodded.

"We do not know when they will strike, nor if the North will be their first target. I'll ask Lord Manderly to send most of the fleet west, and to have the others ready just in case."

Barbrey had been hesitant but didn't voice her concerns, especially since Benjen was certain that they needed to follow the dragon's lead. Now it seemed to have turned out to be the right thing to do, at least according to the raven they had received.

"It seems that they have started their campaign by attacking Lannisport," Ashara said, not even hiding her smirk at that point. "The Lannister fleet has been destroyed. Which means that soon we will receive word from the King."

"And we will be ready. Wyman?" Benjen asked.

"I'll send a raven at once, Benjen. The forces are on standby, Wylis will see it done."

"Any news from Wendel?"

"He should be arriving at Sea Dragon Point in a few he's not there now, knowing my son if the seas were kind he'd not delay"

"I must say, Lord Benjen, that it is very fortunate that you decided to move part of the Eastern fleet when you did." Luwin pointed out, and Barbrey could hear the suspicion in his tone.

"With what our ship's captains heard on the sea about the stolen ships from New Ghis, I am very relieved that Lord Benjen heeded my warnings and protected the construction of the new ships at Sea Dragon Point." Wyman intervened, and for once she was glad he was in the know. For it was in moments like these that the man was truly useful.

"The Mormonts, the Glovers, the Flints, and the Ryswells are already on high alert. The Mountain Clans have gathered to scout their part of the coast. It is time to call the banners on my nephew's behalf." Benjen declared, making Barbrey shiver.

"Shouldn't you wait for the King's orders to -"

"The King is in King's Landing, Luwin. Far from the dangers that the North faces. If he couldn't protect his goodfather's fleet, then we cannot count on him to do much for us now can we?" Benjen asked to a shake of Luwin's head

There was more to Benjen's words that the Maester wouldn't catch on to, but Barbrey had been married to him too long not to catch the hidden message. The reports they had received about Robert Baratheon were not playing out in his favor. Nothing of import had happened during his rule until the Greyjoy's attack, which in itself was a good thing. Yet except for the North, it seemed that the rest of the seven kingdoms were in a lethargic state.

Benjen was wary of the king, for good reason. The changes in the North had made their coffers grow exponentially, to Barbrey's dismay, as she knew the Targaryens were partly responsible for their growth. Meanwhile, Robert Baratheon had spent his time hosting tourneys and raging at them for dealing with the Essosi. Yet Benjen had stood firm and continued his trades, even despite his apprehension. Her husband knew full well that it would benefit not only Jon but all of the North, and he and Barbrey would only voice her concerns behind closed doors.

"Does that mean you intend to lead our forces as your nephew's Regent, my Lord?" Wyman asked, frowning.

"My father always said that the Warden of the North had to lead by example. Jon is too young to fight, so it will be my duty as Regent to do so in his stead."

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you, my lord, but I think I and the rest of Lord Jon's bannermen would understand if you stayed away from it and allowed someone else to lead. Winterfell will have need of its Lord as much as our army will." Wyman's words were welcomed by her but not it seemed by her husband.

"Barbrey and Ashara have already proven they can handle Winterfell's affairs when I am away."

"But if anything happens -"

"My decision is final. I will be leading the men." Benjen cut Manderly rather abruptly, his eyes fixated on Barbrey.

She felt nauseous, the idea of Benjen going to war against the Ironborn was one that she disliked greatly. Barbey had lost a husband already because of a conflict, and the fear of losing another now gripped her heart. While she could understand her husband's wish to do as his father would have, as his brother had, for now, she wished he'd instead think not as a Warden or Regent but as a husband and father.

Yet here and now was not the place to have the argument or discussion they needed to and so she kept silent for now. Only interjecting into the conversation when it turned to more practical things. Both Benjen and Ashara believed that the raven would soon arrive from the King calling the North to his side and neither Wyman nor Luwin disagreed. Soon talk turned to the garrison they would leave behind in Winterfell and Barbrey at first was surprised it would be so many, only for the words her husband spoke to make it clear why that was.

"We must ensure that my nephew, my wife and children, and the people of Winterfell are in no danger whatsoever. In each of the keeps of the North, Lords will be doing the same and we have more than enough men to bring to bear against the Ironborn." Benjen said firmly, his eyes on hers and hers alone as he did so.

Soon enough the conversation began to waver, all they could do immediately had been taken care of and now it was simply a matter of waiting for word to come from King's Landing. The banners had been called and within a moon or so, Winterfell would play host to the largest army it had seen in many a year. Barbrey only hoped that when this army set off and then returned from war, it would not carry back with it news that would break her heart in two as the last one had.

After dismissing Wyman and Luwin, she, Benjen, and Ashara spoke some on the running of Winterfell while Benjen was off playing at war. Barbrey was surprised and yet not to find that Ser Symon would be remaining behind, both Ashara and Benjen almost insisting on it. More surprising was Benjen asking Ashara to contact Rhaella Targaryen, though given the former queen was far more aware of events than the current king, mayhap it shouldn't have been. More so it was the first time that she could remember her husband being the one to reach out rather than be reached out to. Ashara simply said that she would do as asked and any news they received from Braavos would find its way into Benjen's hands. With that, the night was done and she and Benjen made their way back to their chambers, the time for her own conversation with her husband and for her to share her worries and fears was now finally upon her.

"Fool of a man." she began almost as soon as the door was closed behind him "Do you care so little about my heart that you'll not listen to sense?"

"Barb…"

"No, you know how this would make me feel, and yet without even a conversation with your wife, you just state you'll lead our army. Do you not remember what happened to the last son of Stark who led an army south?"

"I am not my brother. Neither of them." Benjen retorted angrily and Barbrey closed her eyes, the ghost of Brandon Stark had always been a part of their lives, even though she thought of him less and less now.

"I was speaking of Ned, not Brandon." she sighed.

"Aye, I know. I have to lead the men, Barb, you know this. In your heart, you know this. Do you think your father won't march? Your brother? Or that Roose Bolton, Rickard Karstark, or the Greatjon won't lead their men? How would it look if I didn't lead mine? If I didn't lead them all in Jon's name? I don't want to go to war, trust me it's the last thing I want to do, but even were it not for the North's sake, or for fear they'd think me lesser, there the South and Robert Baratheon to consider too."

She moved to him, allowed him to take her in his arms, and welcomed the feel of him as he held her tightly. Logically she knew that all he said was true, the problem was that when it came to her family, logic was the last thing she led with. Fearing that if she looked at him she'd see his brother Ned or William or any of the faces she remembered from the last time the banners were called, faces that she saw no longer, Barbrey instead closed her eyes and kissed him deeply.

Soon enough, that was all she thought about or felt and her passions which had been put on hold while they held their meeting, were anything but now. Their coupling wasn't rushed, both of them were far too eager to savor their time together and while she wished for her release to come quickly, in the end, it would be worth the wait. Laying with her head facing his, her fingers brushing over the beard that had finally begun to settle on his still too young face, Barbrey felt unable to give voice to her fears. Benjen however seemed to have much to say and the subject was not one she'd been expecting, not yet at least.

"I need to tell him, Barb. Jon, I have to tell him the truth of things." Benjen said resignedly.

"He's too young, Benjen. We agreed to wait until he was older."

"Should I….were anything to happen to me…"

"Hush, my love, fret not over things that may not come to pass," she said as she brushed her fingers over his face, close enough to his eyes to feel the droplet of water that had leaked from them.

"It needs to be me, Barb. I'd never forgive myself if it was not. I need to tell him who he is, he's smart enough and mature enough to handle it. Hell, at times he's far more mature than I am." Benjen chuckled and Barbrey couldn't help but laugh too.

It was true, Jon at times behaved as if he was a far older boy. In his lessons and his attitudes, he was far ahead of Brandon despite them being so close in age. Luwin had oft remarked that he'd found no more diligent student than Jon and that the books her nephew read were ones that he himself had barely read until he was a much older man. Yet despite what seemed to be an older boy at times, Jon was in a lot of ways, simply a boy still and Barbrey wasn't sure that this was the best idea. Something she felt she needed to speak up on.

"You risk shattering his life with the tale, Benjen. I say this not to hurt you, but because it's the truth. He looks to Ashara as his mother and to find out that she's not…"

"Ash, I need to talk to Ash…"

"Aye, you do."

"I'll do so, but I am resolved on this, Barb. And no, before you say it, I'll not write him a letter that's to be given to him at some later date. My words, from mine own lips. I owe him that, I owe her that." Benjen said resolutely.

There was no point in arguing with him when his mind was set on something. Only Ashara could mayhap get him to see sense in waiting and Barbrey doubted that even she would find him accommodating. Her husband could be as stubborn as an aurochs when he wished to be and at times, Barbrey loved him for it.

"Whatever you decide, I'm with you," she said finally.

"Thank you. Now are you tired and ready for sleep, or…" he asked with a twinkle in his eye and Barbrey didn't even bother to answer, or, instead, she moved him so he was laying on his back and they began to couple once more.

Kings Landing 289 AC.

Varys.

There had been times when he'd feared for his life. Serving Aerys Targaryen and seeing how he dealt with perceived failure or disloyalty, how could there not be? When the Targaryen army was defeated and the Old Lion sacked the city, Varys had feared for himself and his little birds. Thankfully finding a way to keep them and him safe during the worst of the atrocities. Later on, when he'd presented himself to Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn, Varys had felt that it could very well be his time, only to find favor once more.

In all those times, however, other than when he was a boy who was cut, never had he felt as close to death as when he was in Queen Rhaella's presence for the first time after the Rebellion had ended. It had been something he'd needed to do, something that his conscience demanded of him and so he'd taken the risk. Once again managing to come out the other side with his head still attached and with the promise of more days to come.

His guilt had not left him. The part he'd played in the events of the realm and what it had cost, were still ones that he hated himself for. He'd thought himself so very clever. Had been certain that his way was the right way and in the end, it had cost him and Westeros their best chance to prosper that they'd known in a generation. Rhaegar would have been a good king, Robert Baratheon was most certainly not one and so he'd once again offered his services to those he truly wished to serve. This time his offer had been met with a counter and with a warning that he'd do well to keep himself reminded of.

"Betray me even once and you'll pray that it was my husband's displeasure you earned and not mine own. I will see you ended, Varys, and that end will be bloody and a long time coming." Rhaella said dispassionately.

"I am and will be your faithful servant from this day forth, my queen."

"That remains to be seen."

So he'd set about making sure that anything that happened in Westeros would be relayed to Queen Rhaella before anyone else. His network of Little Birds had been expanded upon and he'd added sailors, ship captains, merchants, and traders to it. Within a week of him learning something, Rhaella would be informed of the very same thing and he'd add his own take on what it would mean, just for good measure.

As Robert Baratheon whored and shamed his wife almost nightly, Varys had kept a close eye on the Lions only to find that Tywin Lannister cared not. Even less so when a son and heir had been born that bore the Old Lion's blood. Briefly, he'd wondered if some accident may befall the king now that Tywin had an heir to be named regent over, though as of yet, the alliance between the Lions and Stags had held true. Which was more than could be said for the brotherly bond between Robert and Stannis Baratheon.

He'd be a liar if he said that he didn't revel in seeing the widening chasm that had opened up between the two brothers. Robert sought to shame Stannis at each and every turn and he put two kingdoms' loyalty into question because of it. It left only the North as the true wildcard among the old alliance and it was the North which vexed him most of all. For there was a game afoot there that as of yet he'd not been able to understand the truth of. By all rights, a weakened North should serve his queen best of all, and yet, the North was allowed to prosper and grow strong. As if that was not confusing enough, it was being helped by his queen to do so. No matter what foolish words were spoken to name it untrue.

Varys couldn't see the endgame and it annoyed him greatly. The North would never rise for the dragons to his mind. They'd cost them far too much and the North Remembers as they were oft fond of saying. A liege, two sons and a daughter, kin to not only the Regent of the North but the young boy who'd one day rule, and yet the boy had other kin too. Lady Ashara Dayne helped to raise her son and surely the lady held to her own loyalties still? If so then mayhap that was the game that was at play. A son of Stark who bore Dayne blood and whose mother sought the deaths of those who'd killed her truest friend and that woman's babes. Mayhaps? Or Mayhaps not.

Setting his little birds to look closer at the North, Varys put himself to work in looking to the other regions and in seeing who'd hold loyal and who'd hold true. It was as he was doing so that the message arrived and as he'd done with so many others, it was to his queen he looked first. Though even now more than a week after word of the attack on Lannisport had spread, he still couldn't say for true why he'd then looked North.

'I need to know the woman's mind.' the voice in his head said of Lady Ashara and he wondered if that was indeed his reason for getting word to her of the attack on the Lannister fleet.

For now, it was with other thoughts that he pondered on as he made his way to the Small Council Chambers and took his seat at the table inside. Jon Arryn and King Robert both arrived together and as always it was Ser Brynden Tully who stood by the king's side. The Blackfish accepting the role of Kingsguard had been a source of consternation for both Varys and for his queen, but there was little either could do about it now. Ser Jaime arrived in his father's stead and then Pycelle stumbled in and played out his mummer's farce.

"What word of the North?" the king asked before Pycelle had even taken his seat.

"Its banners have been called, my king," he said to a broad smile from both the King and his Hand.

"Good I'll send word to them to make ready to march as soon as our own forces are ready." the king said happily.

"Stannis?" Jon Arryn asked when the king did not.

"Has set sail from Storm's End and called the banners, Lord Hand," he said to a thankful nod from the Hand and a grunt from the king.

"Your father?" the king asked Jaime Lannister, for once not naming him a Kingslayer when he did so.

"Has called the banners and makes ready to march your grace."

"I'll fucking drive those Ironborn cunts into the sea. Crush them against their fucking rocks."

"Lord Tully?" Jon Arryn asked, ignoring Robert's small rant.

"Has called his banners, as has Lord Tyrell," he said adding the last bit before he could be asked about it.

"Fuck the Tyrells, there'll be no fucking feasting in this war," Robert said laughing loudly.

"The Redwyne fleet?"

"Gathering, Lord Hand."

The same platitudes and nonsense were then spouted over the next hour that had been for the past few days since word had arrived from Tywin Lannister. Varys still chuckled internally each time he thought of what the Old Lion's face was like when his precious fleet had gone up in smoke. Once the meeting was done, he made his way back to his chambers and then put on another of his disguises, it was time to find out if there was anything else he or his queen needed to know.

Two weeks later.

For a man who longed for war, Robert Baratheon took some time to come up with a plan for one. For almost a week, there had been inaction and arguments. Stannis named one plan only to be denied by his brother in favor or a lesser one to Varys' mind. He'd watched the dinners that had been held between the two sides of the Baratheon family. Dinners that were tense and unfriendly and were it not for Catelyn Baratheon, would have led to an even bigger rift opening up between them both.

Eventually, the plan was agreed upon and Stannis was to set sail to meet up with the Redwyne Fleet while Robert marched and Jon Arryn ruled in his stead. The king had whored and drank and declared loudly to all who'd listen that he'd drive the Ironborn back into the sea where they belonged. He'd sparred daily and though he was slowing some signs of age and inactivity, he was as fierce as ever. Only the Kingslayer or the Blackfish was close to being a match for the famed Demon of the Trident.

It had unnerved him somewhat. He'd hoped the lifestyle Robert lived would slow him down more. A part of him even prayed that he'd meet his end during the battle to come. Though given the forces he'd gathered to aid him in that battle, the chances of that were slim and none. Above all else, this had been what had worried him most. The realm had rallied to the King's side, the old alliances had held true and no matter what forces his queen gathered, they'd not be enough to bring Robert Baratheon to his knees.

He'd said so in his letters to her. Varys had given her the exact numbers of men and which houses had answered truest of all. None of them more so than the North it seemed. Young Benjen Stark had surprised him greatly in some of the moves he'd made. His banners had been called far more quickly than any others. The Northern Fleet had been moved from east to west before the attack began and he was already on the march South. All of which pleased the King and worried his Master of Whisperers, and so all of it had been reported back to his queen.

Watching the king march out of the gates, Varys found another worry coming to his mind. A king who achieved victories on the battlefield could end up beloved both by those who fought by his side and those who he fought to protect. Even if that king cared not a jot for the latter and fought only for his own glory and bloodlust. Robert Baratheon had been well on his way to becoming a hated king, one more easily to topple. Should he win as decisive a victory as he surely would, he may end up finding himself loved.

"I needs must speak to the queen." Varys sighed as he turned and made his way to his chambers, it was time for yet another trip and he hoped on this one to find answers he'd not found thus far.

Seagard 289 AC.

Jason Mallister.

At first, when the bells began ringing, Jason had thought that some drunken fool had made his way to the Booming Tower. Now as he hurriedly put on his armor and readied to lead his men into battle, he found he wished that had been what had occurred. Fool that he was, he'd ignored the talk of Ironborn ships being seen close to his shores over the last few moons. He'd been certain that there was no danger of an attack as not even at their worst did they, or would they, dare attack Seagard. To do so would be to bring Robert Baratheon's wrath down upon their heads and you need only look at House Velaryon and Driftmark to see the folly in that.

Yet not only did they seek to attack his lands, but they sought to take them for their own, or so it seemed given just how many of them there were. With a quick glance at himself in the looking glass, Jason readied for the fight to come. His indigo armor was chased with silver and in his hand, he held his eagle-winged helm. By his side, his trusty longsword lay ready to be wielded and before this day was done, he'd be certain it was covered in Ironborn blood. Nodding to himself, he moved from the looking glass and walked quickly from the room.

His guards and men at arms were already on high alert and with a shouted order to see that his wife and son were well guarded, Jason moved through the halls and down the stairs of his keep. It would take a truly massive force to threaten his family home and so he knew the battle would not be fought here. Instead, it would be at the docks and in the town itself and so as he reached the courtyard, he was relieved to see that his horse was already saddled and his men mounted.

"The Ironborn come to threaten our homes and families, I say we drive them back into the fucking sea. Are you with me?"

"The Silver Eagles."

"Seagard."

"House Mallister."

The words were shouted loudly and were only drowned out by the sound of the horses' hooves as they rode out through the gates. Jason took a look behind him to see those gates were now closed and he took a relieved breath. With the knowledge that his family was safe and secure, it was time to see to the rest of those in Seagard. Two hundred men rode with him and he knew that Alliser, Bryce, and Jarrel would have already formed up the infantry, the Smallfolk, and would be seeing to the town's defenses.

It took little time to reach the docks and he almost gasped aloud when he did so. He'd known it was to be a large force he was to face, he'd just not known how large. Should they manage to land all of their men, then this may be a fight he'd not be able to win. So the first task he had was to ensure that didn't happen. Jumping down from his horse's back, he looked around at the men present and then found Alliser Krey, his master of arms.

"My lord, your orders?" Alliser asked without preamble.

"We need to burn those ships or do as much damage as we can to them."

"I've ordered balls of pitch, my lord, but I need some time before they're ready."

"Fire arrows?"

"Too far to shoot, my lord."

He'd known that was the truth of things and yet had hoped to be wrong. It would be time before the arrows could be used and as he was deciding how to deal with the attack, he felt a chill run down his spine. The reason for that chill was soon made clear to him.

"Ironborn in the town, my lord." Jarrel Slate shouted out as he ran towards Jason and Alliser "Hundreds of 'em."

"We'll ready the pitch, my lord, use the fire arrows when we can," Alliser said.

"I'll return,'' he said to a nod from Alliser, and then he turned to deal with the new problem that had just been presented to him.

Twenty men were all he believed he could spare and so it was with the rest of them that he rode out to deal with the Ironborn who'd made it into his town. If this was any other invading army then this would be a much larger problem. Once inside the walls, they'd seek to open gates and weaken defenses and it would allow more and more of their forces to enter the city. Ironborn were scum by name and nature though. They'd seek their own rewards and to sate their basest desires, even at the risk of the attack failing.

It would be plunder and rape rather than opening gates and weakening defenses that he'd now need to stop. On one hand, this was something most welcome as it would probably save the city, on the other, it wouldn't save those poor souls who fell to the Ironborn this day.

Jason rode hard and to his shame, he ignored the first set of screams that he heard. He needed to deal with the largest force first and so some would suffer before he or his men got to them. When he saw them up ahead of him, he felt a rage the likes of which he'd never known before. With his sword in his hand, he ordered his men to ride them down and soon found himself covered in Ironborn blood as he cut through them with no trouble at all.

They were no match for men on horses and were poorly armored too. Slashing down to his right and his left, Jason cut down too many to count, and yet not one of them falling brought him any comfort or respite. It was not until he saw him in the distance that he felt anything at all in truth. Rodrik Greyjoy was the man who led this attack on his city and Jason now vowed that he'd see him dead before the sun fell. Yet just as he was about to ride towards him, horns rang out which confused both him and the Ironborn in front of him.

"My lord, my lord." Bryce Waller called out and Jason looked at the older broader man almost in shock as he'd not even noticed him before now.

"Bryce?"

"The North, my lord, the North marches to our aid."

Jason looked from Bryce to behind the Ironborn and the sight he saw was a glorious one. Men from House Stark, House Bolton, and House Umber were cutting through the Ironborn with barely any resistance. Ordering some of his men back to deal with the screams he'd ignored, Jason then rode forward with less than a hundred men, though given their allies it was more than enough to do what needed to be done.

"GREYJOY!" he shouted as dismounted "FACE ME YOU CRAVEN IRONBORN CUNT!"

"MALLISTER!"

Rodrik Greyjoy had him beat in size if not much else. Taller than Jason by a head and a half, he bore a double-sided steel ax in his hand and wielded it with strength and power if with very little finesse. As the Northmen cut down those Rodrik had led to their deaths and as his own men dealt with those who'd sought their pleasure with his people, Jason sought to bring about the end of the heir of Pyke. He blocked the first blow and deflected it to the side, moved out of the way of the second and his longsword almost hit home as he did so.

Ahead of him, the battle was over, the North and his own men had won this part of the day. He saw Bryce speaking to what looked to be a giant of a man and then men of the North were joining with his own and heading towards the docks. Jason smiled a true smile at that. The attempt to take his city from him had failed and his people were safe. Then he thought of those who'd not been so lucky and he felt his anger begin to rise once more.

"TRY TO TAKE MY CITY. TO HARM MY PEOPLE. I'LL FUCKING END YOU AND YOUR HOUSE WILL SOON FOLLOW!"

"After I kill you, I'll fuck that pretty little wife of yours, then I'll throw your son from the walls of your keep. I'll leave them both bloody before I sail from here."

"HAH!" he said as he dodged another blow and moved back out of the way of a fierce downward strike "YOUR DAY ENDS WITH YOU IN THE GROUND, GREYJOY."

The sound of the ax hitting his longsword rang out and was followed by a cry of pain from Rodrik as Jason kicked his knee and almost took him to the ground. They had moved from where they had first fought, the flow of the fight taking them many yards from it and his men and briefly, he wondered if he was being led into a trap. Seeing the Northmen move after him and then the crowd gathered around him and Rodrik, he was happy to find he was not.

"Your walls will be covered in your blood, Mallister. Your wife and son will now see you die." Rodrik gloated and Jason glanced around to see that he was indeed under the walls of his keep.

"No, they'll see my victory," he said almost to himself and then he began to truly move.

For years he'd fought in tourneys both in the joust and the melee and though he'd lost to better men in both, today he fought one who was very much not. At the Trident he'd killed three of Rhaegar Targaryen's Bannermen and earned himself some glory, yet here and now it was not glory he sought. Songs would be sung and tales told and yet he found he cared not. This fool had come to take his city from him, he'd threatened his son and his wife. For that, he needed to die and die soon.

The first cut cost Rodrik the use of his left arm and though he swung his ax one-handed, he was now an even lesser threat. Jason dodged his strikes easily while Rodrik was far less fortunate when it came to Jason's own. A slash that almost cost the Greyjoy an eye. Another that had it been an inch or two closer would have cut him from neck to groin and then the last one which took him to his knees and cost him his ax.

"I'd offer you terms and hold your prisoner, but you dared to threaten my wife and son. Fuck you and your father and tell your Drowned God who it was who sent you to him." Jason said as drove his sword down through Rodrik's right shoulder and out through his left side.

The cheers began when he pulled the sword out. His name, the name of his House, and cheers for the men of the North who'd come to their aid all ringing out beneath his walls. Rodrik Greyjoy's blood pooled as Jason walked towards the large Umber lord. He'd fought in the same army as the Greatjon many years before but had never truly met the man. Now not only would he, but he'd fete the man too for all he'd done this day.

"Lord Stark sends his regards." the Greatjon said and Jason shook his hand warmly, now finding that he very much wished to meet the young Stark Lord too.

The Riverlands 289 AC.

Robert Baratheon.

It had taken him far longer to march than he'd hoped for. Firstly there had been a need to come up with a plan to beat the Ironborn at sea, a plan that his fool of a brother had argued and gainsaid him about. Then to call the banners and to ready the proclamation that he made to the people, something he'd be a liar if he said he'd not enjoyed. Being waved off and cheered had only made him even keener to win this war so as to receive the accolades he so richly deserved. Memories of another war and of being feted as he had been when he'd won it had been ever-present in his march as the days passed. Unfortunately, they were not the only memories that filled his head.

In another life, he'd be marching to join up with Ned once more. Fighting side by side with his brother by choice in the battles to come. To drink with, laugh with, tell tall tales to and just see once more, what he'd give to make it so. Alas, it was not to be and he barely remembered Benjen Stark from the one time he'd met him. Truth be told, Robert was most unsure about the North's Regent, was it not for the blood in his veins and the fact that he was guardian to the last living piece of Ned Stark, then he may have considered changing who ruled the North.

No, that was a lie. Politics was not his field of expertise but unbeknownst to Jon Arryn, he did pay attention. Or he did when it was dealing with matters that he had any personal interest in. The Starks being one of those matters and Ned's son especially. He knew that it had to be a Stark who ruled the North, so even were it not for Ned's lad, it would still be to Benjen Stark that he looked. He only hoped that he'd get the true measure of the man during this war and mayhap, once it was won, he'd then get to see Ned's son once again.

"Riverrun, your grace." the Blackfish said, taking Robert from his thoughts and bringing a smile to his face.

He may not like his brother much, but his goodsister would have been the wife of his brother by choice had fate not robbed the world of Ned Stark, and her father was a good and true man. Grasping mayhaps, but Leal and he'd fought on the right side during the Rebellion. Which was more than could be said for some of these cowardly Riverlords. Hurrying his horse along, they soon entered through the gates and he was happy to see Hoster Tully had lined the household up to welcome him. Happier too to see that one of two or the serving girls were young and pretty enough and so he licked his lips somewhat as he dismounted from his horse.

"Riverrun is yours, your grace," Hoster said as he and those lined up took a knee.

"Arise, Lord Tully, and be greeted like the true friend you are," he said and almost wished that Jon was there with him to see him act so kingly and politically astute.

"My son and heir, Edmure, your grace," Hoster said directing his attention to a young man who still looked as green as fuck to Robert's eyes.

"A good lad, Lord Tully, a young warrior in training no doubt." he said before turning his attention to the young man who was anything but "Your father and uncle are damn legends, lad, I hope to see you one day surpass them."

"I vow to do so, your grace."

"Ah, good lad," he said, patting him on the shoulder and feeling him flinch though he barely touched him.

For once it was to a solar rather than to rooms he went and he was most appreciable for the ale that was brought to him. Taking his seat, he listened as Hoster spoke of the events he'd missed since he'd begun his march and handed him raven scrolls from Jon in King's Landing and some bearing the sigil of Silver Eagle of House Mallister and the Direwolf of House Stark. Breaking the seal he read each of them eagerly, laughing loudly as he did so.

"Stupid fucking Squids. Your Bannerman gave them a bloody nose when they sought to take Seagard. In that, they were helped by the fighting men of the North."

"I had heard that the battle was intense though not of the North's involvement," Hoster said grimacing as he mentioned the North and clearly still upset about their shared history.

"Young Benjen Stark has proved himself to be at the very least a quicker marcher than I." he laughed as he handed the Blackfish the scroll from House Mallister.

He then broke the seal on the one from Jon Arryn and read it before then doing the same on the one from Benjen Stark. Tywin Lannister had set off and would meet him in Seagard while Stannis was ready to set sail and meet with the Redwyne Fleet which had been gathered at the Arbor. The Northern Fleet had set sail from Sea Dragon Point though to what end, Benjen hadn't mentioned, he and his army were already in Seagard and would await his arrival and further orders before moving on.

Reading that the North and now the Riverlands were secure from any further Ironborn attacks was a welcome thing, and it made him consider that he'd done Benjen Stark a disservice. The young lord seemed to have more about him than Robert had thought and though he still wished it was Ned he marched to join, he found himself keen to speak and see young Benjen now even more. With the business of those outside the solar now dealt with, Robert turned his attention to Hoster, to the number of men, and under whose command they'd march.

Later that night he was guest of honor at a feast and he enjoyed himself most thoroughly. It was to be the Blackfish in charge of the Riverlands forces and while they were lesser than he wished for, for now, he'd let that slide. The young girl he turned his eye to was a pretty little thing, dark of hair and eye and as he slipped more and more into his cups, she became a specter of a woman from long ago. When he finally spent in her, it was Lyanna's name that he cried out. While long after she'd left him alone in his rooms, it was the Starks who were no longer living that his mind turned to.

Three weeks later.

It took them far too long to get to Seagard. Even Tywin Lannister had beat them there and he was in a foul mood when he saw the walls of the town come into view. If it not for the size of the army that was camped around and inside those walls, then he'd have only had anger in his heart when he arrived at the Mallister keep. Instead, it was thoughts of leading that army that filled his head. That and the thoughts of the glory and bloodshed of the battles to come.

Tywin Lannister was there to greet him as well as Jason Mallister and Benjen Stark. Robert looked for and found enough of Ned in the younger man's features to recognize him easily. There were other friendly faces amongst the Northern Lords who'd ridden to fight by his side once more. Men he'd fought and bled beside and shared an ale or a tale with. The Greatjon, Rickard Karstark, Roose Bolton, and others who'd strike fear into the dark black hearts of the Ironborn scum. What surprised him was just how many men of the North there were and just how well-armed and armored they were. Something that he later found out was on Tywin Lannister's mind too.

Though it was to be but one among the many surprises that he was to find in his time by Benjen Stark's side during the war to come.

Blazewater Bay 289 AC.

Wendel Manderly, Lord Admiral of the Northern Fleet.

Forty-two ships were in the Northern Fleet. Five remained docked at the Wolf's Den and were ready to be used should the eastern shore come under threat. Another five patrolled outside White Harbor while the last two were on a trading voyage to Tyrosh. Once they had delivered their cargo, they too would set sail for the Wolf's Den to join the others there. All trading had been placed on hold until this war was won and only that which was needed for the North itself would continue.

Braavos and Pentos would be as far as any Northern ship would sail until the Greyjoys were dealt with. For Wendel, he both relished this and worried about it equally. He, his father, and Benjen Stark had spent almost six years building up the Northern Fleet. With another three or more, they'd have had almost twice the ships and some would have already been stationed on the western coast. The Greyjoys had picked almost a perfect time to launch their attacks and if it hadn't been for the Targaryens, then his ships would play little part in the battles to come. For Wendel believed as his father did that it had been Rhaella Targaryen who'd forewarned them and allowed them to make ready so quickly.

His father had confided in both him and Wylis the truth about Jon Snow. A truth that had explained much and removed many of Wendel's own lingering doubts about the Targaryen's intent. Many but not all and those that remained would take other than his father or Benjen Stark to remove. Knowing what he now knew, when word came from Benjen to set sail for Bear Island and Sea Dragon Point, Wendel had done so without question. He'd readied his men, provisioned his ships, and had spoken to his father before setting sail with thirty ships under his command. The words his father last spoke to him still resounded in his head as they now sailed south once more.

"The queen seeks her grandson safe, son. If she did not then she'd let the Greyjoys reave to their heart's content."

"You truly believe they'll attack the North, father?"

"Aye, in time. They may seek the South or the Riverlands first, but in time they'll look North and far better they find our swords up their arses and our ships a match for their own than not."

"I've been told to hold in Bear Island and Sea Dragon Point."

"And you'll be told to set sail and join the Royal Fleet at some point will you not?" his father asked.

"Aye."

"You know better than any what to do, son. Engage the enemy at your discretion, seek no glory for glory's sake and be safe."

"Aye, father, I will."

He'd done as he'd been bid. Had sent ravens from Bear Island where he'd stayed with Maege's younger girls. The older ones had sought to march when the banners were called and Maege would deny them much but not that. It had been as he was examining his ships and making sure all was well, that the young boy had passed him the note. Its words promised much and had he not known who it was who sent those words, then he'd mayhap not have believed them so truly.

Krakens gather at Pyke, ships set sail south but do so badly organized. They seek enemies from the south, not the north, their eyes only looking one way and not the other. A clever man who acted quickly could find much purpose in an attack. He could find that the numbers favored him and the element of surprise to be one that's not to be scoffed at.

The choice is yours, Merman.

Wendel had given the order to make ready to set sail that hour and then the raven had arrived from Benjen Stark with the tide. His orders were to set sail and to drop anchor until the battle began and the southern fleet engaged the Greyjoys and while it was an order he would respect, the words on the note offered him a different option.

In the end, the choice was made for him. They saw the ships on the third night at sea. The opportunity they presented to them was just too good to resist and what point was there in him being in command if he didn't lead. His first instinct was to simply attack and yet it was one that he fought down. Instead, he looked at the ships through his Myrish eye, and almost as if he was not in control, a plan formed in his head.

Waiting until night had fallen, Wendel ordered the fire boats to be readied. Though he wished to set off in the guiding boats, he knew he could not. Should this plan fail then they'd lose some men, but no ships. Were he to be among those lost then he'd risk losing the fleet itself and would leave it without a commander. He knew what he had to do and he saw the relief on his captains' faces when he left the task to other men.

"For the North and the Starks," he said as the boats moved away from the ships.

"For the Mermen." one or two of the men in those boats replied which brought a smile to his face.

The men he'd chosen were good men that had been based in the Wolf's Den. They were his men and he wished them all good fortune and prayed to the Old Gods and the New to bring them all back safely. Time seemed to stretch on and on, little seemed to happen and then the first of the fires took hold. A second and then a third and soon enough the sky was lit up with the light from the burning Ironborn ships.

Given the order to set sail, the Green Mermaid led the way, and the others ships quickly followed. He breathed relieved as the first of the boats carrying the men he'd sent returned. When the morrow came, he'd be overjoyed to find that not a single one had been lost, for tonight he was just happy to see so many boats rejoining the fleet.

They sailed as close to the flaming ships as he or any of them would dare to and he looked on and counted the numbers. Six and ten burned and would never sail again, four were aflame and could mayhap be saved and five were undamaged. A part of him wished to leave it like this, to allow these men to be rescued and brought back to their families, yet a large part knew that in time these very same men would come back and risk his men's own loved ones.

"Fire the arrows," he shouted out as on the deck behind him, one of his men waved a flaming torch from side to side.

The night's sky was filled with flaming arrows and the five ships that were undamaged were now burning too. As for the four which may have been saved, that time was long since passed, and by the time Wendel gave the order to sail further south, not one Ironborn ship remained afloat. He offered up a prayer to the Seven who are One and thanked the Stranger for keeping his visit confined to the enemies they had faced.

Two days later, they were less lucky. This time they faced but twenty ships but the night's sky was brightened by a full moon and their boats were seen as they went about their work. By the next morning, he'd lost two ships and forty men, while the Ironborn had lost so much more. Not one of the ships that he'd encountered was left unscathed and the sea was filled with men who'd drowned or burned. Men that Wendell had no time for and cared not about.

Forty-five ships, his fleet of eight and twenty had seen destroyed. More than a thousand Ironborn now rested in the Drowned God's halls while he'd lost but forty men and two ships in doing so. Still, he mourned the men he'd lost and when they saw the next set of Ironborn ships in their way, he vowed he'd see their sacrifices were not for naught. It would still be stealth and surprise he'd use this time, but it wouldn't be fire boats and men sent on ahead that would seal the Ironborn fleet's fate.

"Send the signal, we attack when night falls," he said to Artos, his second in command.

"A full-on attack, Lord Admiral?"

"Aye, ready the catapults and the fire arrows. For tonight we dine on squid," he said as Artos nodded and then ran off to signal the rest of the fleet.

Dropping to a knee, he offered a prayer to the Seven for himself and those men of White Harbor and the Wolf's Den who were on board his ships and who followed the same gods as he. He then offered a prayer to the Old Gods for those who sailed with him who believed in them and them alone.

"May we all see our families again and should you grant us your favor, then may this night be one we remember for the right reasons and not for the wrong ones." His words were ones he hoped were heard as he looked up to the sky and waited for night to fall.

Seagard 289 AC.

Benjen Stark.

Two moons ago, Winterfell.

Their coupling had been almost frenzied as both of them knew it would be sometime before they lay together again. Looking at his wife as she slept, Benjen hoped that today would not be the last time he saw her. Rising from the bed, he dressed quietly and made his way from the room. Soon enough he was outside Bethany's room and he entered silently. His daughter slept with the stuffed wolf wrapped tightly in her arms. It was a present from Jon and along with the stuffed horse that Brandon had gifted her, it was her most treasured possession. Leaning down towards her, he placed a kiss on her forehead and then left her to her dreams.

Brandon's room was next and his son too slept a peaceful sleep. Unlike his daughter, Brandon felt himself to be too old for things such as stuffed toys and Benjen felt the smile come unbidden to his face when he saw what he'd replaced them with. On the table beside the bed, Brandon had created a menagerie of sorts that was full of wooden carved animals. From wolves to horses, elk to birds, any animal that his son had seen or read about was represented. As with his daughter, Benjen leaned forward and placed a kiss on his son's forehead before turning and leaving the room.

Opening the door to Jon's room, he felt somewhat nervous. They'd had their talk and he'd told him the truth and though in one way he'd taken it badly, in another he'd very much not. His nephew's ability to accept things and deal with them was something that Benjen envied. Six namedays old and in some ways he was more emotionally stable than Benjen himself was, far more clever too if what Benjen had seen and what Luwin said was true. Jon had few toys in his room. A wooden sword and a shield that was a gift from Ashara's family and that was really it. Instead, it was books that were stacked on his bedside table. Books that Benjen hadn't even read yet. Looking down at him, seeing him with Egg wrapped in his arms, Benjen felt for him as he did for his own children. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Jon's forehead just as he'd done with Brandon and Bethany and then once again, he left a child's room unseen.

Breaking his fast was just as hard as each of the silent goodbyes he'd said this morning. The knowledge that he was now but an hour or so away from leaving them all behind, was ever-present in his thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn't take in each and every little detail of the morning meal as he'd intended to do. Instead, he hoped that later when he thought back to it, he'd remember as much of it as he could. Bethany's smile, Jon and Brandon's excited talk of adventures to come, Barbrey's chiding when one of the children would swap something on their plates for something on one of the others.

Eventually, the time came and he heard his wife tell the children that he'd be leaving and they needed to be ready to say their goodbyes in the courtyard. As expected, it was Bethany who refused to do so. His daughter suddenly ignored her meal and Benjen almost broke in two when she ran to him and grabbed his leg begging him to stay. He lifted her up and whispered soft words in her ear and still had to carry her to the courtyard when the time came.

Seeing Ser Symon standing there and knowing that he'd be staying behind brought him some comfort. The knight had shown just how fierce he was on more than one occasion and his devotion to Ashara, and to Jon especially, was something that Benjen most welcomed. While most of the army that would march with him was awaiting outside, some of the those who commanded them were in the courtyard and already mounted. There would be no long goodbyes for him this morning and he was now even more glad that he'd taken the little time he had before the day had truly begun.

"Ash I…"

"Whatever is needed to be done, you can count on me, Benjen." Ashara said before leaning close to whisper in his ear "There may be more messages sent to you as you travel, you know from whom." she whispered and he nodded.

Ashara took Bethany from his arms and held her by the hand, Benjen kneeling down so he could speak to her.

"I love you my little wolf, I will hurry back to you and bring you back many presents," he said while somehow being able to raise a smile.

"Don't go, papa. Peeaaae…stay, peaaase….papa."

Had it not been for Jon and Brandon moving to her, both of them taking her hands in their own, and Jon speaking softly in her ear, then Benjen may have lost the courage and will to leave. After they'd stopped her tears, though not fully, he looked to his son and bid him come to him. Hugging him tightly once he did, he told him that he was to look after his mother, sister, and cousin and that he was a true wolf.

Then it was time to say his goodbyes to Jon and for once he hesitated to embrace his nephew. Jon was the one to do so to him and as with Brandon, he told him that it was up to him to see that Bethany and Barbrey were safe and well. Feeling Jon stiffen slightly, Benjen looked at him confused and was shocked to see the expression on his nephew's face. Determined, focussed, and resolved, it was the expression of a much older man and he wondered if he'd made a mistake in his words.

"You can count on me, uncle," Jon said and Benjen mussed his hair, happy to hear the chuckle that Jon made in response.

Finally, he stood face to face with his wife. Barbrey's eyes were glistening and full of worry and as he embraced her, he once again told her that nothing in this world would keep him from returning. They'd both shared their fears of war with each other as they lay in bed together. Both of them knew far better than most just what cost a war could take on a family. The kiss they shared was long and one that neither seemed to wish would end and it showed just how far they'd come from their wedding day all those years earlier. Did they love each other as truly as they should? Mayhap or mayhap not, but they did love each other, of that he was certain.

"You bring yourself back to me, Benjen Stark, you above any victory or any glory," Barbrey demanded.

"I seek neither and wish only for all I've found here, wife."

Jon had Bethany waved to him as Benjen climbed upon his horse, his daughter smiling somewhat and it was like a gift from the Old Gods to see her do so. Barbrey tried her best to be stoic and reserved and Jon and Brandon both did their best impressions of men and not boys. With a nod to them all, a look to Ashara and Ser Symon who both offered him a bow of their heads, the time had come. Raising his hand, he dropped it, and then the horses began to move. Then quickly, far too quickly, they were out of sight and Benjen Stark was marching to war.

One Moon ago, Moat Cailin.

Forewarned is forearmed his mother used to say and when it came to the Greyjoys, her words had once again been proved true. Queen Rhaella's wish for his nephew to be crowned as king and to see the North grow stronger may not be exactly the same as his own wishes for Jon, but it did allow a certain balance between them. So while he'd seek the North to be stronger for his nephew's safety and its own prosperity, Rhaella's wishes allowed for that too.

Benjen was no fool and he knew full well that Rhaella Targaryen cared not for him or his, other than what they meant to her grandson, and yet sometimes alliances were built on far less. So despite his misgivings, he'd agreed to use the Targaryen's aid as best he could, something he was now glad of. Something too that he'd be far more concerned about if he was as close to Robert Baratheon as his brother had been. For Queen Rhaella's spy network seemed to outmatch the King's own.

Looking over the note that he held in his hand and then at the small child that had handed it to him, Benjen found himself wondering just how extensive that spy network was and whether or not it was time for him to employ the same tactics. He handed the young boy the few coppers he had on him, looked back at the note, and then rose to his feet. The time for prayers was now at an end and as he left the Weirwood behind him, he was joined by his guards, neither of whom had noticed the small child coming or going.

"Fetch me the Greatjon and Lord Reed," he said to Hallis Mollen who ran off to do just as he'd asked.

Walking to the newest of the towers, Benjen once again looked around at Moat Cailin. It was far from finished and mayhap would not be done even during his time as Regent, but it was in a far better shape than it had once been. The walls had been rebuilt, the Drunken Tower now only leaned slightly and the Children's and Gatehouse towers were almost as new. With the addition of the two other towers he'd had built, the Wolf's and the Stallion, named for his own and his wife's Houses, the Moat could now host more than 5,000 men comfortably. Which was just as well as the Northern army he'd gathered was close to 25,000 strong.

He passed the men at arms who were training and tuned out the sound of the smith's hammers falling. While most if not all of the men who made up the Northern army were already equipped and equipped well, some were not and would be before they left to march further south. Their destination was now known to him given the contents of the note he held in his hands and he ignored the smirk that came to his face at the thought that Robert Baratheon probably didn't know his own destination as of yet. As he entered the Wolf's Tower, he ignored the calls to join his men for an ale and walked with purpose to its solar. Once he reached it, then and only then did he give in to his thirst and he was still drinking his ale when Howland and the Greatjon arrived.

"Seagard is to be attacked," he said as the Greatjon poured himself and Howland an ale and Benjen handed Howland the note.

"A decent plan." Howland said as he read the words "Should the city fall…"

"It won't." he said resolutely "Jon, I need you to ride with as many men as you can gather quickly. Don't stop until you reach Seagard and if that fucker Frey gives you any…"

"I'll fucking gut the Weasel." the Greatjon said and Benjen laughed at the thoughts of that particular encounter.

"I'd ask you to ride fast, Jon. With luck you'll arrive before or during the battle, if the Old Gods are good it won't be after."

"I'll leave now." the Greatjon said before emptying his mug of ale in one swallow "I have a thirst for Squid blood." the giant of a man said as he laughed loudly and left the room.

It left Benjen and Howland alone, the two of them sitting silently until Howland broke that silence.

"The queen?" Howland asked.

"Aye, I'd imagine so. How she knows it all is beyond me. But she's been right on everything thus far, I doubt she's wrong now."

"You still have misgivings about her intent don't you?"

"I want him safe, Howland, I want him and us all to be safe." he sighed.

"It's not your nor mine own decision to make any longer, Benjen."

"Nor is it hers, Howland."

"No, it's Aemon's now."

His words of rebuke stuck in his throat as he watched Howland rise and then leave the room. The words that named his nephew as Jon Stark and not Aemon Targaryen were no longer the ones he could utter in truth. A part of him felt he'd been wrong to tell him who his true father and mother were and yet it was shouted down by the larger part of him that told him that it was what he had to do. That part sounded so very much like his sister that Benjen wasn't sure she wasn't there in the room with him speaking the words for true.

"He'll decide, only him, and whatever decision he makes is one I'll support. I swear it, Lya, I swear it on the Old Gods."

Now, Seagard.

Never did he think he'd be happy to be leading an army. Seeing how many men Tywin Lannister had gathered and how well-provisioned they were, Benjen felt that all they'd done these last six years had been worthwhile. Should the truth about Jon ever be found out, it would be the Lions who'd be just as big a threat as the Stags and he knew that the size of the Northern Army had shocked Tywin deeply. As had the quality of their weapons and armor.

Even had he not seen it for himself, then the words of some of his lords, of Jason Mallister and Tywin's own words spoken to him would have shown that to be so. As would the looks he'd received from Kevan and Gerion Lannister as well as from some of the Lords of the West. Looks that would only grow in intensity when he eventually revealed what he'd just found out, though he'd not be doing so until the king himself had arrived.

For now, it was to his own lords that he intended to speak and so he walked through the town with his guards, and in his hand, he carried the note he'd been given by the small child. Wendel had gone above and beyond what he'd sought from him and though Northern lives had been lost, they were far fewer than those lost by the Iron Born. So focussed was he on his thoughts, that Benjen barely acknowledged the waves and smiles offered to him and his guards by the people of Seagard. The Greatjon's arrival had helped seal the victory against Balon Greyjoy's son and heir. So while it was Lord Jason Mallister who truly won the day, even killing Rodrik Greyjoy personally, the North had played its part and that part was much appreciated.

"Lannisters, my lord." Jory Cassel whispered and Benjen finally paid proper attention to his surroundings.

Ahead of him, there was a group of about twenty Lannister men and since their arrival at Seagard, an arrival that was long after Benjen's own, tensions had risen between them and the men of the North. Thus far it had been confined to harsh words and some scuffles, but if the king didn't arrive soon, then Benjen feared it would develop into something far worse. Looking to Jory and his guards, Benjen shook his head and as they passed by the Lannister men, they ignored the words that were spoken.

They arrived at the area of the town that had been given over to the North to billet their men, another source of tension between them and the Lannisters as it was far better suited than where they'd been placed. Entering the large tavern that he'd taken over for his own base of operations, Benjen sent Jory to fetch his closest advisers and made his way to the rooms at the top of the stairs that served as both his sleeping quarters and his solar. He'd only just entered those rooms when the servant arrived with the tray and though the ale here was not as good as what he was used to, it was a most welcome sight on the warmer days they had in the South.

"Thank you, Mara," he said, handing the young girl a few coppers which she took gratefully.

Howland Reed, Jorah and Maege Mormont, Roose Bolton and Rickard Karstark, The Greatjon and Ser Wylis Manderly along with his Goodfather Rodrik Ryswell soon joined him and after more ale and some food was brought, Benjen readied to tell them about the news he'd received.

"I received word of our fleet, my lords." he began as all eyes looked his way "Word of victory at sea." he added when Ser Wylis looked somewhat nervously at him "Lord Wendel encountered some Ironborn ships as he was sailing south to aid Stannis Baratheon in his attack, which was fortunate for us and very much not for the Ironborn."

"My brother is well, my lord?" Ser Wylis asked stopping anyone from celebrating too soon.

"Aye, Ser Wylis, well and victorious, five and twenty ships he put to flame in that first battle, with nary a Northmen harmed."

"Five and twenty?" Roose Bolton asked in that quiet voice of his.

"Aye."

"First encounter, my lord?" Howland asked.

"Aye, Howland. After dealing with the first lot, they soon found more in their path, another twenty fell though we lost two of our own ships this time." Benjen said sadly "I know not the list of our losses or even if they were many, though I believe not all who were aboard those two ships have fallen."

"Five and forty ships, by the Old Gods that calls for a fucking feast." the Greatjon said to loud agreement.

"Aye, it does. But let's wait until we receive an even truer account before we honor those who fought and won, and we mourn those we lost."

His words were accepted instantly and though they did somewhat celebrate that night, it was a muted one. The true celebration came three days later when he received not only one more note from a young girl that spoke of yet another battle at sea but a note from Wendel Manderly himself which told of victory and loss. Three more ships had been rendered useless, though these ones at least had been able to limp back north with two ships as an escort. All in all, they'd lost close to a hundred men and had sunk or destroyed more than seventy Ironborn ships.

The thirty ships that had sailed east and made up Wendel's Northern Fleet were now down to three and twenty. Two had been lost completely, three would need major repairs to sail again and two served as escorts to those three. While he'd wished for them to attack from the north while Stannis Baratheon and the Royal Fleet along with the Redwyne Fleet attacked from the south, Benjen could find no fault in Wendel's actions. Far from it, as he saw them as good and true. He'd be feted upon his return North and Benjen had already sent a raven to Wyman to let him know of his son's achievements. It was time to let others know too and though he had wished to wait for Robert Baratheon to arrive, the king was taking his damn time in doing so.

So once again he walked through the town with his guards and this time he did so with a far larger group of them. Tensions between them and the Lannisters were at boiling point and two men had lost their lives already in tavern fights. That it was one of each from both sides was the only saving grace he'd had and had stopped larger fights from breaking out. This news, though welcomed by most, would not be so by the Lannisters. Tywin Lannister may seek vengeance and justice for his burned fleet, but not at the hands of anyone but himself. He may accept it from Stannis Baratheon, from Benjen Stark he'd very much not as he was as prickly a fucker that Benjen had ever met.

The guards at the gate of the Mallister Keep greeted them warmly and he made his way inside. He passed the Lords of the West and their knights, the Riverlords who'd made their way to Seagard rather than Riverrun and Lord Jason's own men at arms, and eventually, he saw the Mallister Lord sitting surrounded by Lions.

"Ah, Lord Stark, be welcome." Lord Jason said warmly once he noticed him.

"I bring good tidings, Lord Mallister. Word from the Northern Fleet,'' he said as the room hushed, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tywin Lannister enter the great hall accompanied by his brother Kevan.

"Lord Lannister, your timing as always is impeccable. Lord Stark has news of great import to share with us." Lord Jason's words were far less effusive and friendly as he spoke to Tywin Lannister.

"I await them most keenly, Lord Mallister," Tywin said sternly.

"The Northern Fleet sailed south and faced off against Ironborn ships not once, not twice, but thrice. Each time sending them back to their Droned God. While we suffered some losses, they suffered far more and all in all, seventy of their ships now sail no more."

"Seventy?" Kevan Lannister asked incredulously.

"By the Seven, this is for true, Lord Stark?" a voice from his left asked and yet Benjen found himself looking firstly to Tywin Lannister and then to Lord Jason.

The second of those wore the largest smile he'd seen a man wear in many a moon, the first wore a scowl and had a look in his green eyes that Benjen liked not.

"To the Northern Fleet." Lord Jason said as he rose to his feet "To the North." he added.

Around the great hall, the cheers rang out, and yet neither Tywin nor Kevan nor none of the Lords of the West cheered. Benjen found himself locked in a staring contest with Tywin Lannister that would have stretched on for some time had the room not been silenced by the announcement of the king's arrival.

"The King. The King marches through Seagard." The voice called out and then propriety and a rush to be the first to welcome Robert Baratheon became the order of the day.

Benjen watched as Tywin Lannister strolled out of the room, the anger he clearly felt was badly hidden as he did so. Whatever plans were made for the war to come, no Northman would fight alongside a man of the West, and Benjen would take and accept no slights nor slander from the man either. His men had already fought and bled in this war, they'd won victories while the Lannister Lord had known naught but defeat. By the end of it, Benjen vowed that each and every single Lord of the West would fear just what the North was capable of. Should they ever look to him and his, they'd find that wolves hunted in a pack, and lions were no match at all. Though in time it may be a dragon and not a wolf that they should truly be fearful of.

Winterfell 289 AC.

Jon Stark.

Each time he caught sight of the crypts from the corner of his eye, he felt the urge to either run to or away from them. At times he'd look forlornly at them as he and Syrio trained and he'd end up with a sore wrist or arm for his trouble. Brandon too would take every opportunity to sneak a hit in on him when he got distracted. Yet it was when Bethany did so that Jon realized he truly had a problem that he needed to resolve.

His little cousin didn't truly take part in their lessons, though not for a lack of trying. Her third Nameday had just passed a few weeks earlier and he'd gifted her a small wooden sword which she at times needed to be forcibly parted from. The same wooden sword that she'd just caught him across the thigh with and though it was a painful blow, her smiling face and her giggles soon made him reconsider his chastisement of her.

Hearing his aunt call them for their baths and their meals, Jon placed his own wooden sword away and looked once again to the crypts. For almost six years he'd believed the statues inside to be of his grandfather, uncle, aunt, and father and until a little over a moon ago, that had been the truth, at least to him. Now he knew a far different truth and it was one that he was still having trouble coming to terms with. A father who was not the man he thought he was and a mother who did not live and who was not the woman who held him tight when he wished to be held, or who told him tales to aid his sleep.

As the others left, Jon heard Syrio speak some words that he barely made out and while his sword master and his cousins joined the rest of the household inside the keep, his footsteps took him to the door of the crypts. Looking around to make sure that no one was watching his movements, Jon carefully opened the door and snuck inside. He was immediately hit by the coolness of the air and felt the wind blow against his face and threaten to blow out the torches that were nearest the door. Picking up one of the unlit ones and lighting it, Jon moved further into the crypts and walked past the statues. Each step took him not just further into the crypts themselves, but back in time to the day his uncle told him the truth of who he was.

Two moons ago.

His uncle wished to see him and so he held his mother's hand as she walked with him towards the crypts. Jon was well aware of the war that was coming and that his uncle would be leaving to go and fight in that war. More than that, he was well aware of what the last war had cost their House. His grandfather, uncle, aunt, and his father had all traveled south and none of them had returned. Old Nan's words about Starks not faring well south of the Neck were ones that Jon had heard more than once and he wished not for his uncle to leave.

The king had called, war was upon them and the Starks were dutiful and Leal. Men who would one day be his Bannermen had gathered and Jon had met and spoken to some of them. Some he'd liked far more than others and some he'd never forgive for how they spoke about or looked at his mother. As they walked, he squeezed his mother's hand that little more tightly and felt she was grateful that he did so. His uncle Benjen stood in front of his aunt Lyanna's statue and Jon's eyes looked from there to the statue of his father that stood to the left of his aunt's and his uncle Brandon's.

"I'll be waiting in my room if you need to speak to me, Jon," Ashara said and Jon nodded as she kissed his cheek.

His uncle waited until they were alone and Jon heard him say something about how his mother liked not being in this place. Something he knew all too well.

"Luwin tells me your lessons are coming along well, Jon," Benjen said, confusing him, for this was a strange place to speak of his lessons.

"Aye, uncle. Though he seems surprised by some of the books I wish to read." Jon wondered if that was why he'd been brought here, was he to be reprimanded for seeking books on dragons and on the great Houses of the South.

"I've spoken to him and bid him give you access to any tome or book you wish. A search for knowledge is not a thing to be fearful of, Jon."

He breathed relieved at his uncle's words. Though it did then raise the question of just why they were here even more in Jon's mind. Not that he'd have to wait long to find out the reason.

"My sister was a fierce woman, Jon. Headstrong, willful, wild, and with a heart truer than any of us. Each day since she left this world I've missed her more than I can ever say." Benjen said sadly before kneeling down to look him in the eye, his uncle's own eyes glistening "I know that were she to look upon you that she'd be so very proud of the boy and one day the man you'll become. I know it here." Benjen touched his chest "Do you believe me?"

"Aye, uncle," he said firmly, his uncle never needed to ask him that, for what reason did he have not to believe him.

"I march to war, Jon, and our family has lost much to the wars of the realm. Though I believe we'll be victorious and I'll return safe and sound, I needs must do something before I go lest I never get the chance to do so."

"Uncle?"

"I beg you forgive me, Jon, I wish it was not to be now that I spoke these words but I'll not risk you not hearing them from mine own lips."

He looked at his uncle in confusion, never having seen him this way other than when Bethany was born or spoke her first word and took her first step. Before he had a chance to say anything to him, his uncle spoke again.

"What we did we did for your protection and were we to be faced with the same choice, we'd do so again. King Robert should he to find out would see you dead, Jon, and so a lie was sold as the truth and no harm was meant to you by it. If there is to be blame attributed then I beg of you that it's me that you attach that blame to and no one else."

"Uncle?"

"My brother is not your father, Jon, and Ashara is not your mother. Your father is Rhaegar Targaryen and your mother is my sister, Lyanna Stark, his wife."

The world began to spin and Jon began to stumble. In his head words went round and round too quickly for him to comprehend them and before he knew it, Jon had fallen to the ground. He fought against his uncle's arms and knocked the first mug of water from the hand that offered it to him. Only that he felt as if he was about to lose the contents of his stomach or he'd have done so to the second mug too. Instead, he drank it down and felt some semblance of balance and normalcy come over him as he then rose to his feet.

"You Lie!"

"Why would you lie to me so!" he asked angrily before adding painfully "Why uncle."

"Jon, I….I…."

"Mother, I want to see my mother. Take me to…..MOTHER….."

He cried out agonizingly, images running through his head of sitting in his mother's bed, of her soothing his aching heart and tucking him into his own bed at night. Try as he might, he couldn't stop those images from being replaced with another woman's face. Lyanna Stark and not Ashara Dayne now helping him with his reading or his lessons, his dressing, and his riding. Jon saw silver hair and not the dark brown of his uncle Benjen that Nan and Ser Rodrik had said his father had.

"Please uncle…."

"I'm sorry, Jon, truly I am. You are still my nephew whom I love with all my heart. Barbrey is still your aunt and Brandon and Bethany are your cousins, but you have another family too. You are a Stark, Jon, but you are a Targaryen as well."

Now.

He'd not spoken to anyone that night or the next one. Had it not been for EGG then he'd have cried until he could cry no more. Just holding it in his arms though had made things far simpler and far easier for him to deal with. Three days after being told the truth of who he was, he made his way to Ashara's room. His words spoken to her were the ones that truly allowed him to think more clearly about what he'd been told. Her answer to his questions was what he'd needed more than anything to hear.

"Can I still think of you as my mother? Can I still name you so?"

"Of course, you can, Jon, for I think of you as if you were my son."

He passed by his grandfather's statue, past his uncle Brandon's and then he stopped for a moment at his uncle Ned's. Not knowing what to say to him, he moved to the statue of his mother. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the blue winter rose and placed it in her hand. Ashara had told him that it was her favorite and it had been with a crown of these that his father had named her the Queen of Love and Beauty.

"I…I wish I'd known you, Mother. I…would have liked to have known you. '' he began shakily "I hope you don't think poorly of me and blame me not for naming another in your stead. She's been good to me, mother. As good as I think you'd have been and I am not shamed to have thought of her how I did…how I do."

The words seemed to bounce off the walls and simply fade away. There was no echo as there sometimes was in the crypts and in Jon's mind it was as if what he'd said here had been taken to the halls that the Old Gods named their own and to his mother's place within those halls.

"I know the truth now and yet I know not what that truth means. In time I hope to make you proud of me. I hope to make father proud of me. I love you, mother. Hate me not for loving another too." he said as he turned and walked away.

His aunt, Ser Symon, and Ashara all turned their eyes to him when he walked into the Great Hall. The smile he offered them seemed to relax them all somewhat and he too felt more relaxed. Taking his seat beside Bethany, he laughed at something that Brandon said and began to eat his meal. After he was done, he walked with Bethany and his aunt Barbrey to his cousin's room and helped to tuck her in. With his uncle away, he was the man of the house and though this was not one of his duties or chores, it was something he very much enjoyed.

"You missed the news, Jon." his aunt said to him as they walked from Bethany's room.

"Has something happened to uncle Ben?" he asked worriedly only for his aunt to shake her head.

"No, Jon. Your uncle is well. The North has won a great victory at sea and the army will soon be setting sail for the Iron Islands."

"I'll offer up prayers to the Old Gods that they'll be victorious there too," he said as they reached his aunt's rooms.

"Good lad." his aunt paused "You are well, Jon? All you've learned…"

"I am well, aunt," he said resolvedly.

He felt his aunt's lips on his cheek and then left her when she entered her room. It was almost time for him to go to his bed and Brandon he knew would already be fast asleep. Walking to his room, he did so with purpose and once he reached it, he moved straight to his desk. Opening the drawer, he took out the letter and then made his way from his room to Ashara's. Though he named her mother still, more and more he was beginning to think of Lyanna Stark that way. A part of him felt guilty for that and a part feared that one day he'd only think of Ashara as Ashara and not as his mother too. It was something he was resolved not to do, but something that he felt was probably out of his control.

"Mother," he said when she opened the door.

"Jon? I had thought you'd gone to your bed."

"I will be soon. I…"

"Jon?" Ashara said as she let him into the room and closed the door behind her.

"Can you send this to my grandmother, mother?" he asked shakily as he held out the letter in front of him.

"You truly wish to?"

"Aye, I do."

"Then I'll see it done."

"Thank you, mother."

"Jon, are you well? Truly?"

"I will be in time, mother, I'm getting there."

Her embrace felt the same, her kiss on his forehead felt the same and the tinge in his heart was as it had always been. Later as he lay in his bed with Egg held tightly to his chest, he came to a sudden realization. There had never been a boy as fortunate as him in all the realms of men. For he not only had one mother but two and he loved them both with all his heart.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next. Rhaella receives word from Westeros and a letter from her grandson. Stannis finds a far easier naval battle than he expected and clears the final obstacle to the Iron Islands. Robert Baratheon launches a full-scale attack on House Greyjoy and their allies. In Winterfell, Ashara faces a tough choice that will change things forever. For those following my other fics, Live as a Wolf will be updated Friday.

Chapter 2 review: Isles: We did consider it, but Barbrey works better for the story.

Chapter 6 reviews.

Oghnevwogaga: While there will be time skips, we're not going to do them just for the sake of doing them. If this drags on too much for you, then so be it. But the setup of events needs to actually be laid out before they play out. We need to establish all that needs to be established in some sort of order rather than just jump forward in time and go, oh yes, here it is. To show the ripples that the change to canon we've made occurred, rather than just skip forward and go, this is how things are now.

Nagiten: A little over one yes. I always get the impression that Arya was one of those children who walked and ran early for some reason and while Beth isn't a replacement for Arya exactly, she does have some similarities in my head. The Greatjon is supposed to be about 7 feet tall, the Mountain is closer to 8 feet in the books.

Daryl Dixon: So very glad you liked it.

Buzzgrave: That's not how the Kingsguard work, yes the oath is sworn to the king but literally unless you're specifically ordered to do something different by said king, then whoever you're charged to protect is who you take your orders from. This we see clearly in the fact that Rhaegar has no control over who he takes to the Trident, which is why Jaime is the only KG left in KL. Only when in conflict with a king's direct orders or in an encounter between a king and another royal family member would this not apply. Hence why Jonathor Darry tells Jaime that while yes they are to protect Rhaella too, they aren't to protect her from Aerys.

Aegon has nothing to do with Arthur's orders. He was firstly tasked by Aerys to protect Rhaegar, then while under Rhaegar's command, to protect Lyanna and her unborn babe or if you want to go with mad, bad, rapist Rhaegar, to keep them prisoner. You can argue that after Rhaegar died, then he could have gone back to KL, but he was still under orders and by that time it wasn't even Arthur who was in command, as Ser Gerold Hightower was Lord Commander and it would be up to him to countermand orders.

I've made it clear regarding Ned, and people always put the onus on the KG to be the ones to reach out and make peace, but what about Ned's role in doing the same? The words he uses are well known to us all by now, and at no point does he make it clear that he's there for any other reason than acting under Robert's orders. He never even mentions Lyanna, never offers any indication that he's not there to carry out Robert's wishes, which as far as the KG are aware would be to end House Targaryen and kill the babe they've sworn to protect. Let's face it, it's not as if that isn't what Robert's actions have shown is his intent. Read the exchange and tell me at what point did Ned say, "I'm here for my sister, we don't need to fight, I'm not here to fight" he doesn't because as I said, he literally doesn't mention Lyanna once.

Calmer heads should have prevailed, but this myth that it's all down to Arthur and the KG is simply that, Ned is just as much at fault as any if not more, since as you say, he's there only for his sister. SO here in this fic, we wanted that side of the argument to be the one that's led with, rather than how in countless fics, it's always Ned's side. Viserys will have a big role to play but he won't be king. All the Targs will play big roles at some point.

Ymrgf: Duly noted. The line between giving a meaty chapter and giving too much in one is a hard line to judge accurately at times.

Juristen: I think that it's a position that a lot of the Northern Lords may take with Ashara and a lot of it is more down to her brother than herself. We went with Hornwood being the one to speak it aloud because everyone would expect it to be Glover who did so and yes it did and will stick with Jon. With Rhaella, the key is the phrase she used, it allows for leeway and it wasn't Jon she was promising for the very reason you mention. Dorne just wouldn't be enough. I agree completely with you in regards to her promising the male members and we did it because we felt it showed a human side to her, that she's not completely thinking politically. Yes it's because of her own experiences and as you see, she was willing to make the sacrifice for herself once again, but for Dany, it just is a line too far. On the fostering, my only reasoning as to why Ned didn't do it in canon was that he was fearful that having them there would somehow lead to Jon being discovered. A lot of things he did make no real sense given his experiences, fostering you'd think would be something he very much approved of.

Victoria: Thanks so very much, my friend. Cat will, we hope, at times be really annoying and yet at others be completely relatable and understanding. We want to portray her as having this blind spot when it comes to the North and Jon, but it won't be her entire reason for being and so hopefully she'll come across as more rounded. We'll be seeing a lot of interactions with the children as they grow, like the first pov of Jon here and one of Marge to come. The North is going to be interesting as the changes are key to it and some of the events and characters we see now, and their actions, will be well remembered by Jon later on. Viserys will be much different here, having his mother, Arthur, not having the pressure of keeping Dany safe and trying to be a king, all of that will allow him a much different fate, also he'll have a brother in arms too. Be safe and well my friend, keep smiling as much as you can, and remember, do something to make yourself happy each and every day.

JLDR: Cat will also have a different playground so to speak as more and more she'll spend time in KL and around Cersei. But she, her father, Edmure, and Lysa all will have this high opinion as will Cassana. I'm glad to hear that you share a lot of the same opinions as I do in regards to the characters, it's one of the main reasons I got into fics, to express those opinions. We see the other side of Ned and others all the time, that there was a lack of this side of the characters and so I like to add my take on them as much as I can. In time, when I'm done exploring this side, I may go a little more into the other, but for now, this side seems to work best. Hope you did well on your finals.

Bautista: I can understand that criticism and even accept it somewhat. Though I would suggest that given how some of the villains in ASOIAF are portrayed, I'm keeping it in line with the source material. Jon, Robb, and a lot of the so-called good characters are portrayed along the same lines as I do here, as are the bad ones. Some are cartoonishly evil, Euron, Ramsay, some are more complex at least on the surface, Littlefinger, Varys, and some are somewhere in between such as Tywin. But the Masters that Dany deals with in Essos, Walder Frey and his get, The Mountain, and so many more aren't exactly the epitome of clever and subtle writing. It's hard to write in the grey when one side's perspectives are always going to be given more light to them than the other. And again, pretty much everyone who faces the Starks are not really written in the grey in the source material and if you take away their plot armor (especially the Lannisters and Littlefinger) then their plots aren't exactly mind-blowingly sophisticated.

The Sphinx: Don't tempt me, my friend, lol.

Dunk: I think you need Jon to know early if you truly want to change much of his character. That and changing his surroundings in some way. We see in the books how he'll grow up if there are no changes made and he's unaware of his truth, so to go that way, you may as well start events right at the beginning of the canon timeline. He will at some point wish to go to meet his other family and yes, Rhaella too will wish to meet him, though it won't happen for some time.

I do get the impression that Tywin wasn't shy in telling Cersei she was failing, you can imagine him wanting an heir and a spare even more than Robert did. The coloring of Stannis' children will be a red flag at some point, yes.

Doran would be smart enough to see it, yes. As for Oberyn, we've not yet decided but it does seem to be leaning that way with him. He certainly won't be close to Jon here. On the Jon not being king, Leilani and I are working on an Aegon lives fic where Aegon will end up on the Iron Throne and Jon will help put him there, that's our next collaboration. I also have a fic that starts at Duskendale and where Aerys has a come to Jesus moment, so the ripples begin much earlier. A Jon as the son of Cersei and Rhaegar fic where he's raised in Casterly Rock as Jaime's bastard son. Along with so many more ideas, not to mention the continuation of my Dragonverse which has Jon traipsing through the major timelines of Targ History, I just need the time to write them all lol. Jon C killing Robert is an interesting idea as it completely changes things smack bang in the middle of the rebellion, I may give that some thought. The one thing with the world GRRM created and the timeline within it is that it does allow for so many what may seem to be minor, or even major changes, that take the story in a completely different direction.

Celexys: So very glad to hear that, I do think there are so many interesting characters that we don't get to see much of and it's nice to add them into a fic, especially if you're not forcing them in. The Aemon/Viserys spar is actually something I'm really looking forward to writing.

Keb: We'll see the true differences with Stannis when his son is born, he'll never be a laugh-a-minute kind of guy, but having a son, his relationship with Cat, will change him somewhat. Though his relationship with Robert will always be a thorn in his side. I do think with Cersei, she stopped caring early and so really nothing changes in that regard.

Supremus: My thing with Theon is that it's there within his character, it's foreshadowed. Not that he'll betray Robb, but that he has this selfish streak and a high opinion of himself. He refers to himself as the Heir to the Iron Islands almost constantly and has a chip on his shoulder about wanting to be a Stark but not ever being a Stark. Finding out that he may not be the heir and that his father doesn't actually welcome his return as some glorious thing, I think would always lead him down the path he follows. So for me it's in character, where you disagree which is fine and I'm not saying I'm right and you're wrong, just that this is how I see it. Apart from that, here in this fic will be certainly more to your taste version of Theon than to any version I've written before. We do have some fun plans for him and none of them include betrayal or Ramsay Bolton.

Irish Hermit: I think so too in regards to Cat. We hope at times here to show both sides of her, the worst qualities and her best ones too, but a lot of her worst ones will come out in KL. Robert will have more doubts over time as Cat/Stannis will have more children and one, in particular, will cause Robert some consternation. We will see Ramsay at some point yes, Roose does need to be watched, but by marrying into House Ryswell, Benjen has taken a huge ally from him. Oh, the fostering will be fun indeed.

No, we have a set time for the eggs to hatch and it'll be much closer to canon, but not exactly the canon time either.

Creativo: 1. Muchísimo. 2. No estoy seguro de lo que quieres decir con esto. 3. Theon seguirá desempeñando un papel, pero no en WF. 4. Cuidado con la víbora.

Xan Merrick: Thanks, my friend.

14omega: Believe me I feel the same, I want to jump to the big things to come, but they need to be set up and put in place and we miss so much of the growing up and the relationships by not taking our time. There will be time jumps ahead, but the key points will be allowed to take their time.

Jesus Leonardo: 1. Es una situación muy delicada, realmente no puedes castigarlo por matar a un hombre en una pelea justa. Después de todo, House Dayne, no culpó a Ned por matar a Arthur en absoluto. 2. Sí y no, se hizo para enviar un mensaje y traer hombres leales al lado de Rhaella. Nunca estuvo en peligro y por eso nunca fue suicida, pero sí fue imprudente, pero por diseño. 3. Mucho y veremos que se aborda, especialmente por Tywin y con Robert y Benjen estando en el mismo lugar también. 4. Jon se asegurará de que lo hagan y la presencia de Symon ayuda. 5. Sí, pero no hay forma de que Stannis se oponga por completo a su hermano, y Rhaella nunca recompensaría a una hija de Hoster Tully dándole una reina. En cuanto a Stannis, el Muro no estará aquí para él.