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.

14. I Just Ran, I Ran All Night and Day

Winterfell 292 AC.

Lady Lynesse Mormont.

When she heard that her sister and Goodbrother would be visiting Winterfell, Lynesse saw this as the answer to her desperate prayers. She had waited for an opportunity like this one to happen for about a year, praying that Loras' presence in the Warden of the North's keep would push the Warden of the South to travel there sooner. Lynesse wanted, no, she needed to see her sister and expose her dire situation to her, for surely her letters to Alerie weren't taken seriously.

As for the letters she had sent her father. In total, there had been more than a dozen letters sent to the Hightower and Lynesse had received but one answer.

You will not shame House Hightower more than you already have. Do your duty to your new House and once an heir will be borne, then and only then will we consider your request.

Lynesse felt used and unheard, and most of all wary of not having her feelings taken into consideration. Her husband had been nothing but loving and understanding, which made her despise him more as time went by. Jorah never pressured her for an heir, yet she could hear other people from his household comment about her inability to produce one.

Five miscarriages she had in a span of two years. Enough for her to not want to try anymore. Especially as she saw Jorah's aunt pop children left and right without any trouble. While the five babes she'd birthed had lost their lives, Maege's five daughters lived. Her Goodaunt was sympathetic to her suffering, which only made it worse for Lynesse who hated the pity she was surrounded with.

Life at Bear Island was far from what she had been expecting. People there lived simply, mayhaps too simply for Lynesse's taste, yet they made efforts to up their accommodations to reach the southern lady's standard. Except for one thing. They had absolutely refused to build a Sept for her. Maege had put up a fight about it and Jorah, who wanted to maintain the peace, relented, much to Lynesse's dismay. He had ordered some carvings of the gods to be made as well as a small altar in her rooms to placate her, yet every time she knelt to pray in front of them only fueled her anger towards her good family.

Lynesse missed the South, she couldn't bear the pressure of what was expected of her and was now stuck with a husband she had started to loathe. She needed to leave, at least for a while. Some time away to figure out her true feelings and see if she could overcome her resentment once she was apart from Jorah and her Goodfamily, but she knew her father would be against her coming home.

She couldn't tell Jorah of her true intentions, couldn't tell him how she felt she was suffocating in Bear Island, as she was certain he wouldn't leave her out of his sight had he known her true feelings on the matter. Alerie's visit truly felt like a blessing for Lynesse and she managed, against all odds, to get Jorah's assent for her to travel to Winterfell with Maege, who wanted to see the daughter who was fostered there.

Not much had been said between the two women during their journey, Maege not one for small talk and Lynesse too occupied thinking about how she would appeal to her goodbrother's common sense, though she knew he would probably listen more to his wife on the matter.

"I hope seeing your family will do your heart some good." Maege surprised her as they were nearing Winterfell. "I know being away from your loved ones, given your circumstances, weighs heavily on you."

"Yes, I… I cannot wait to see my sister and her family." Lynesse said truthfully. "I haven't seen them since the wedding."

"Why didn't you travel to see them before? With all the ships coming and going to Oldtown, you could have gone easily to them. I doubt Jorah would have begrudged you this, honestly."

"I felt I needed to stay with my husband." she lied, not wanting to admit she had been barred from coming home by her father.

"Why not ask them to come see you then?"

"My father is a busy man, Maege. He has no time to travel. My brothers are knights and don't want to leave Oldtown. Alerie is the Lady of Highgarden. It's a lot of responsibility. And my other sisters all have families of their own."

"You have an unmarried sister, haven't you?" Maege questioned and Lynesse tense.

"Malora is... She is… Unwell. Another reason why Father doesn't travel much." she answered crisply.

"Oh. My apologies. I didn't want to touch a sore subject. I… We hate to see you so despondent in Bear Island." Maege sighed loudly. "The day you received the raven about your family coming was the first you truly smiled in a long time."

Lynesse's heart clenched at these words, feeling ashamed and sad. She knew the Mormonts were doing all they could to make her feel better, yet all their efforts meant nothing to her at that moment. Maege and her daughters were good people, as was Jorah, so why couldn't she be happy with them?

She didn't know, and part of her would miss them when she would leave.

'If they gave her leave to do so.'

Lynesse was glad to see her family lined up to greet her with the Starks. After curtsying to the Little Lord and his family, she almost forgot all her manners when she faced her sister.

"Lynesse, it does my heart good to see you well," Alerie said, her bright smile breaking her sister even more.

"I… I missed you, sister. I cannot wait to spend time with you and my niece." Lynesse said truthfully.

"Aunt, I was worried for you," Margaery said as she curtsied too.

"Worried?"

"Indeed. You, like Loras, are alone in the cold North, and the place is -"

"Enough, Margaery." The harsh voice of the Queen of Thorns made both Lynesse and her niece tense. "Lady Mormont. Forgive my granddaughter's bad manners. She speaks out of turn and it seems she has not learned her lesson from the last time."

"There's nothing to forgive, Lady Tyrell," Maege said. "The North is a hard place for those who cannot appreciate its beauty."

"True. I do hope that Lady Lynesse learned to do so by now." Olenna said, looking pointedly at her.

"I… Do…" Lynesse lied through her teeth.

"Still not a good mummer, but it will do for now." Olenna retorted.

"I will show you to your rooms, my Ladies." Lady Barbrey declared.

"Sister, will you…" Lynesse said tentatively, hoping Alerie would join them.

"I'll let you both settle, but when you're done, mayhaps you can join me for some tea?" Alerie said, her gaze traveling from her husband to her Goodmother.

Lynesse nodded dejectedly and followed the Lady Regent, thinking back to her encounter. Were they already aware of the situation? Had Alerie betrayed her intentions to her good family?

Judging by the scathing glare the Queen of Thorns sent to her when they met for tea, it seemed that indeed was the case.

"I… I had hoped I would be able to talk to my sister alone, Lady Olenna." she managed to utter.

"Oh? I'm sorry, sister. Olenna insisted on coming and I didn't think it would be a problem."

"Unless what you have to say to Alerie differs from what you've already told your father?" Olenna said bitingly.

"How… What did Father tell you?" Lynesse stuttered.

"That you wanted out of the marriage you so hardly defended in the first place. The one you nagged me to make your father agree to."

"Is Ser Jorah a bad husband? Does he hurt you?" Alerie asked, putting a caring hand over her sister's.

"No, he… I am well-treated. I just… Don't like living here. I miss Oldtown, I miss my family."

"You were never one for spending time with your family before." Olenna pointed out.

"You do not know anything about my life, my Lady. You were only too content to have someone who can tell you of the affairs of the North and that was why you agreed to send me here. I did what you bid me to, I tried my best to be a good wife to Jorah, but this is not the life I want. Not anymore." Lynesse found resolve she knew not she had as she stood up to the Queen of Thorns, she only hoped she could maintain that resolve when Olenna truly pushed back.

"So what do you want to do?" Alerie asked, ever the gentlewoman Lynesse remembered.

"I want an annulment," she whispered, though the words felt like a breath of fresh air as she let them out.

"An annulment?" Olenna repeated.

"Have you talked to your husband about it?" Alerie asked.

"I… He would never agree. He loves me and he's certain he can make things work."

"So you come to us to ask for an annulment on your behalf? On what grounds? That you aren't happy?" Olenna sneered.

Lynesse couldn't look at the Queen of Thorns. Her words cut her deeply, making her look like a petulant child who wasn't satisfied with what she got in life. Yet it was deeper than that, though she couldn't explain her feelings.

"I cannot bear this man a child. I tried and tried again, and I do not want to try anymore." Lynesse sobbed, no longer able to contain her tears.

"And who, pray tell, do you think will want a broken woman like you?" Olenna said angrily.

"Olenna, that's not -" Alerie started, only to be cut off by the Queen of Thorns.

"I know she's your sister and that my words seem harsh, but she needs to realize that this is the way of life. If she asks for an annulment, she will bring shame not only to herself but to her family and the Reach if we get involved. And you heard her, they treat her well, and her husband loves her. That's more than half the wives living in Westeros can say, myself included, yet you don't see them run away because they're not happy!"

"Mayhaps some time with her family will make her reconsider her position?" Alerie suggested.

"Your father will not welcome her back. You heard him."

"Alerie?" Lynesse perked up with shock and gasped while her sister looked away.

"He came to us before we left," Alerie admitted. Though Lynesse could see it was difficult for her to do so. "He was certain you would ask Mace to intervene on your behalf and -"

"He said in no uncertain terms that he would not pay any compensation nor reparation to a lesser family because you were unable to fulfill your womanly duties. And I will not let my son use his coin to do so either." Olenna ended, breaking the last slivers of hope Lynesse had to resolve her internal conflict.

Lynesse soon felt Alerie's arms around her but she truly felt nothing more than utter despair. She was alone, abandoned by her family to a fate she wanted not. Was it too much to ask than to have someone who understood her?

"I'll try my best to talk to Mace," Alerie whispered in her ear, but Lynesse knew better than to believe a word from her sister. Not if it meant going against their father and the Queen of Thorns.

Like her, she was stuck with the constraints of her marriage. Lynesse didn't want her older sister's life to be complicated because of her. Who knew what Olenna and their father would do to both of them if she got involved? Alerie was fond of Mace now, they had children together, and Lynesse would not let her be set aside because of her desire to get away.

No, if she had to do something, she would have to act alone.

"Let us just enjoy each other's company." she declared, holding her sister's hand while the latter smiled through her tears. "I am glad to see you, Alerie, you and the children."

"We will make the best of the time we have, Lynesse."

"And I hope this will be enough to put some sense through your head," Olenna added, fueling Lynesse's anger.

The following days were spent with her sister and her niece, Margaery seemingly worried about her and asking questions about the North and life here, which didn't help as Lynesse found herself hating every moment of it.

"Loras seems to enjoy it. He doesn't even miss Highgarden." the girl said, obviously hurt by the distance that had grown between her and her brother. Both figuratively and literally.

"That is because he made friends here, dear. Don't you like that he's happy here?" Lynesse asked.

"What if he chooses to wed one of these savage girls who play with swords?" Margaery frowned.

"I can say with certitude that these girls are not savages. You see my Goodaunt? Jory's mother?" Lynesse pointed at said lady and Margaery nodded. "She is one of the fiercest ladies I know, and her daughters are trained to defend themselves. Yet they also sew and embroider as any lady for the South does. Sometimes they help me with my work and are really good at it."

"So you're saying you wouldn't mind him doing so?" Margaery looked at her affronted.

"I… I'm not the one best suited to give advice on the matter." Lynesse said, feeling her anxiety come back.

"Why not? You married a Lord from the North. Don't you miss the South? Us?"

"I do. But everyone is different, dear."

"I wouldn't want to wed someone from here. They're too different from us." Margaery spat, making Lynesse shiver.

"You are the Rose of Highgarden, sweet niece. You are destined for only greatness. I doubt that the North would lead you to it." Lynesse said truthfully.

"I wish you could come back with us, Aunt." Margaery whimpered as she hugged her with all her might.

So do I, my sweet. So do I.

The sadness she felt at that moment was nothing compared to the terror she experienced as one of Olenna's guards snatched her away to bring her to the old lady's rooms.

"Whatever you wish to accomplish with Margaery, do not fill her head with negative things about the North and its inhabitants," Olenna warned her.

"I didn't, it wasn't my intention."

"I'm warning you, Lynesse, out of courtesy for your sister who I think of as a member of my family. If you do something to put us at odds with the North, by your word or your actions, I will make sure to make you regret the miserable life you despise so much. Solve your issues quietly. Make your husband set you aside if you wish instead of asking for an annulment, but do not act foolishly. For my wrath will be nothing compared to others you do not want to cross paths with."

Lynesse was then unceremoniously led out of the room, her mind still reeling from what had happened. She was used to being talked down by Olenna Tyrell, but never in her life had she felt physically in danger. Now that she knew she was being spied on, and that all of her movements were carefully picked apart, she felt even more a captive of her life.

'She needed to leave, now.'

Hurriedly she went to her rooms and rummaged through her trunk, finding the box containing the stack of parchments and ink that Jorah had gifted her. She had hoped it would serve her to write a farewell letter to her husband when she would depart with her family, but it was not meant to be.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she sat on the little chair next to the desk and began writing.

"My Lady?" a woman's voice startled her and she scrambled to hide her letters before opening the door.

"Septa Myriel?" Lynesse greeted her, frowning.

"I hope I do not come at an inopportune moment. Lady Alerie bid me to -"

"My sister wants you to talk me into staying on the right path?" Lynesse sighed, feeling her heart break a little more as she let the septa enter her room.

"No, that's not it. She worries about you, my Lady."

"I'm certain she does. I am a bad influence after all."

"You are lost, my Lady. I've heard that you are not happy and that your distress ails you."

"Indeed, I am lost, Septa."

"I am here to remind you to keep to the Faith. The Mother -"

"The Mother did nothing for me and the children I lost." Lynesse spat bitterly. "I've prayed time and time again for my womb to quicken, and for my babes to grow healthy inside me. Yet the Mother denied me and the Stranger took them all. Now even he refuses to hear my prayers."

"You pray… To the Stranger?" the septa said aghastly.

"Who can you call upon when your family cannot help you? When they refuse to hear your pleas and treat you as if you were a shameful thing and not someone who feels and has needs?" Lynesse sobbed. "Yes, I pray to the Stranger to come every night, to put me out of my misery, or at least to give me the strength to do so myself."

"My lady!" the Septa gasped.

"Do not worry, Septa. My prayers are never heard anyway." Lynesse said dejectedly before being overwhelmed with her emotions.

When she came to her senses, she was surprised to find her sister at her bedside. Alerie's tear-streaked face was not something Lynesse wanted to see at the moment, yet her sister showed no sign of wanting to leave.

"You gave the Septa quite a scare."

"My apologies," Lynesse replied tiredly.

"Lynesse…"

"If you're here to tell me I should endure my fate, save your breath, sister. I am not in the mood for another lecture."

"I wish things could be easier, that Father would allow you back in Oldtown." Alerie sighed.

"We both know that will never happen."

"Which is why it'll have to be Essos," Alerie said and Lynesse looked at her smiling sister in confusion.

"What are you on about?"

"The North is out of the question if you do not want to try to speak to Jorah. You won't be able to hide in Westeros because Father will bring you back. So it leaves Essos."

"You want me to… Leave?" she said, hopefully.

"You are my dear sister and I love you. If that is what you want, I will help you." Alerie said, pressing her hand softly.

"But… How?"

"I will take care of it. You take care of yourself."

"What if we get caught? What if your husband -"

"Do not worry about Mace or myself. We will be well." Alerie cut her off with a firmness Lynesse never knew she possessed.

"Olenna -"

"Will moan and complain. Nothing more than what I have endured for the past twenty years." Alerie chuckled. "She will probably pin it on me, but she'll never know for true if you do not get caught."

"I will never tell if I do," Lynesse swore.

"It cannot be now." Alerie declared. "Winterfell is too guarded and my goodmother will have to see you leave. But I swear to you on the Seven-Pointed Star, that we will find a way to make you leave."

"I… Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet. You're not out of the woods. Give me a few days to think about something. In the meantime, act as miserable as you can."

"Why did you change your mind?"

"Change my mind? I've always wanted to help, sister. I was just trying not to be too obvious about it." Alerie scoffed, making Lynesse laugh heartily.

Somehow Lynesse managed to not let her excitement show during the rest of her stay in Winterfell. Yet as she rode back to Sea Dragon Point with her Goodsister, Lynesse felt something she hadn't felt in a while now blooming in her heart.

Hope.

Winterfell 292 AC.

Mace Tyrell.

He liked not the weather of the North. Though he did appreciate the honesty of the people, savage heathens, they were very much not. Still, appearances needed to be kept up and so Mace acted as if he thought them beneath him. He at times turned his nose up at the food he was offered or the lack of entertainment that was available at the feasts. At the same time, he did his best to seem as if he wasn't truly engaged in the conversations that were happening around him.

Daily it became a harder mummery to perform and yet, he knew why it was needed. Given Margaery's own dislike of this place and the people who lived here, Mace wished not for his daughter's ire to be directed at him. Not yet at least. All was going well until he spied some of the younger residents pouring what looked like honey on one of their desserts. Mace's sweet tooth almost required him to do the same and yet he knew not how to bring up his request. Especially since it was but children who were eating what looked to be far more delicious treats.

"Loras, come here, Son," he called out arrogantly. He had a reputation to live up to after all. So he sat and impatiently awaited for his youngest son to make his way to the High Table.

"Father?"

"Is that honey I see you eating, son?" he asked to a shake from his son's head.

"No, father, tree sap."

"Tree sap?" he asked, unsure if he'd heard his son correctly.

To his great surprise, and even truer delight, not only did Loras explain what exactly it was that all the children seemed enamored by, but arranged for some to be brought for Mace to taste. It was sweeter than the best of honey's to Mace's mind. So much so that he asked and received a piece of apple pie to pour it on and found the taste to be incredible. Soon enough Alerie, Margaery, and even his mother were trying some of the delicious sap.

Speaking to Lord Stark got him no answers as to how, where, and whether or not there was a chance of this sap being available for purchase. Instead, it took a conversation with Jon Stark for the truth of it to be revealed. Mace almost licked his lips when he heard that it was rare and required much work to be harvested.

"How much could be produced, Lord Jon?"

"No more than a few barrels a year, Lord Mace."

"Could five or more be sent to the Reach?"

The young lord looked at him and then seemed to consider his words carefully. Mace found himself impressed by how long it took him to come to an answer. Especially as he felt it was a mummery of sorts. He was all but certain the lad had decided to offer them five barrels already, as long as the price was right, and in this, he was proved to be correct.

"Aye, five barrels, though the cost would be expensive, my lord."

"Damn the expense, young man." Mace chuckled. Knowing that it would earn him a roll of his son's and his mother's eyes, should she hear of it.

In the end, they settled on quite a fair price and Mace knew that he'd still make a tidy profit from the purchase. Even if he only broke even, it mattered not, however. As it was to further the trade links between themselves and the North that had been his true goal.

'So what if he helped his sweet tooth out in the process, no one but he himself needed to know that.' He thought wryly.

Their trading agreement with the North was an extensive one. They bought wood and other items while the North purchased most of their food from the Reach. Altogether, it accounted for close to a third of both regions' trade and Mace doubted that either did as much with anyone else, other than Essos. Yet, trade deals organized by Jon Stark had been mostly the ones they'd been doing over the past few moons. The young lord now took more and more of an interest in the lands that his uncle was regent over.

It had led to many conversations between his mother and his son. Neither of them was aware that Mace knew of each and every one of them. Nor that he welcomed the growing closeness of their House and House Stark just as much as his mother did. As he one day hoped his daughter would too. Yet it could all come crashing down if Lynesse got her way. Mace was again torn between what was right for his House and what was right for his family. The two things for once were in conflict when it came to his Goodsister's well-being.

After he'd heard her tale of woe from Alerie, Mace had felt for the woman. Though not particularly close with any of his wife's sisters or brothers, he liked them all well enough. He'd not been as convinced as his mother had of the value of a match between Lynesse and Jorah Mormont. Nor had he expected it to be a happy one, if truth be told. That was not to say he'd not been shocked by what Lynesse was seeking to do.

Thankfully, it was a much truer feast that soon took his, his wife's, and his mother's minds from Lynesse Hightower. Jon Stark doing as he had once before and again throwing them a Southern Feast as the time came nearer to their departure. The bards proved themselves no match to their host and Domeric Bolton as both lads played their harps and Jon Stark sang wonderfully.

"He has a true gift does he not," Mace said to his wife.

"That he does." his wife replied as they both looked to where Margaery sat transfixed.

His daughter may act as if she hated everything about the North and at times she whined about wishing to be gone from the place, Mace believed there was at least one thing she'd miss when they did leave, however. Given how she looked at the young lad when he sang, Mace believed that with all he had.

Though she never shed a tear, Margaery did look disappointed when the singing ended. She welcomed being asked to dance, however, and again Mace watched her closely as she did so. Margaery was happiest of all when she thought no one could truly see her unguarded expression. The smile on her face, one that Mace was certain that she believed went unseen. Yet, he saw it clearly, as too did his wife. While his mother's own unguarded smile was only ever truly noticeable at moments like this.

With the dancing over, talk soon turned to other matters and Mace readied to play his part once more. This time it was in asking for something that he knew would never come to pass. A fostering for a second daughter that Lord Wyman Manderly would never agree to. Mace asked and was denied, for the reasons he'd expected. He then asked about other Houses before finally being told about the one he truly wished for.

"The Forresters have a daughter close to Lady Margaery's age, Lord Tyrell." Lord Wyman said and Mace nodded his head.

"House Forrester, I know not of them."

"A good House, one more open to the ways of the South than any but mine own or House Stark."

"House Stark does not seem that open to our ways, my lord." he guffawed. Hating to do so and yet knowing that he must.

"Are they not fostering your son, Lord Tyrell? Does not their lord offer you a feast in the southern style and entertain you as well as any bard you may find in the South?"

"That they do and young Jon does, let it not be said they do not," he said, earning him a smile from the Walrus Lord.

"Trust me, House Forrester would welcome the offer as much as I would have if Wylla was not fostered already."

"I thank you, Lord Manderly."

"Think nothing of it, Lord Tyrell."

With the feast finally winding down, Mace said his goodnights to his children. He waited until his mother took to her bed and watched as Lynesse reluctantly went to her own. After saying his goodbyes to Lord Stark and his good lady wife, Mace joined Alerie and their guards and made his way to their rooms. Once inside the doors, he finally felt free enough to throw off the shackles of his long day as a mummer.

"Your sister?" he asked Alerie after they had taken to their bed.

"I fear for her, truly, my love."

"You intend to help her escape?" he asked, though he'd known the answer from the moment Alerie had spoken to him regarding Lynesse's plight.

"I must. For I fear what will become of her if I do not."

"We'll have to face Mother's wrath," he chuckled.

"A small price to pay for a sister's happiness is it not?"

He turned to his wife and kissed her softly on the lips and Alerie needed no further answer than that. Still, he spoke then of how he'd help and listened as his wife explained that it would not be yet. That it would need to be later and that she'd already spoken to Lynesse regarding the matter. Mace kissed her once more to let her know that he welcomed her doing so.

"The boy, Mace."

"He's his son, Alerie, I've not a single doubt this is so."

"How can you be so sure?"

"There are little things in his expression, his manner. Though his coloring is from his mother's House, there is enough of his father's to name it so. Were it not for that, then it's mine own mother's moves regarding Jon Stark as well as those of the queen."

"You don't think it merely to prepare the ground for the invasion?"

"Oh, there is that too, no doubt," Mace smirked. The thoughts of the Stag, Falcon, the Lion, and the reckoning they'd one day receive were more than enough to make him long for the day to be this one."Yet, to hear him sing, to hear him play his harp. To spend more than a moment in the lad's presence and watch his mind at work. No, I am more than certain that Jon Stark is Rhaegar Targaryen's son and heir."

"And that our daughter will be queen," Alerie said happily.

"As she deserves to be."

Turning to go to sleep that night, Mace found himself more than content with his lot in life. His dreams would be of the future. Of a day when Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn got what they deserved. A day when Tywin Lannister finally answered to the House of the Dragon for the atrocities he'd seen committed against Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon along with their mother. Yet, when sleep finally claimed him, it was with but one thought in his mind.

'The Golden Rose and the Son of the Dragon. Jaehaerys and Alysanne come again.'

Winterfell 292 AC.

Jon Stark.

A weight had been lifted from Jon's shoulders as soon as the Tyrells' procession had left the courtyard of Winterfell. He knew his friend Loras would be sad to see his family leave and he was thankful to see Domeric and Daryn distract him as best as they could, but he would be a liar if he was to say that he missed their presence.

Life in the following weeks went back to how it was before the Tyrells' arrival. Beth, to her delight, was back in her breeches and the training yard. As was Asha who had been forbidden to train in archery for the duration of the Southern lords' stay. Brandon found his spirit back, as did poor Lucan who had spent his days hiding away from the scrutinizing eyes of those who thought him a cannibal. Even Benjen and Barbrey seemed to enjoy not having guests to cater to.

None of them were much happier to see the Tyrells leave than Jon, for good reason.

Lady Olenna was unnerving, to say the least. He felt her eyes on him every time they were in the same room. Sometimes when they weren't. The pressure he felt every time he had to step out of his room reminded him of the time Robert Baratheon came to Winterfell. Jon quite simply didn't trust the old lady, though she was straight to the point with everyone around her, there was something with the way she talked to him that did not sit well.

As if she was constantly probing him. As if she knew who he truly was and was waiting for a wrong move on his part to denounce him.

Jon knew he was a little irrational when it came to his parentage. That he was too afraid of bringing war and death to the people in the know. A group of people that from all he'd learned was a far larger one than he had believed.

Lord Ryswell was in on the secret, as were Wyman Manderly and Meera Reed's parents. Old Nan too was in the know, as well as Ser Jory and Ser Rodrik Cassel. They never treated him differently, nor did they broach the subject with Jon, yet his uncle and aunt reassured him that they were loyal to him and would do all they could to protect his secret. Rather than putting his mind at ease, it brought him more anguish at the idea of them getting hurt because of who he was.

Olenna, however, as observant of Jon and his movements as she had been, had seemed to enjoy Winterfell's hospitality. That Jon had felt it was not feigned on her part it had endeared her in his eyes. Something he couldn't say about her granddaughter. Margaery had made her displeasure about being in the North, in Winterfell, and even in his company all too clear in her words and looks. Jon was more than relieved now that both were far from Winterfell and would be soon leaving the North altogether.

The person he was wary of the most, besides Olenna Tyrell, was the Maester. Luwin was a nice man, a little too observant of him to his Aunt Barbrey's taste. Knowing that the Maester of a keep's loyalties laid first to the Citadel, then to the keep he was serving, Jon had made sure to watch the man's reaction and to check all the ravens sent towards Oldtown. He had to thank Meera and her mother for that, for it seemed one of Lady Reed's familiars stood guard around her daughter.

Jon was still in awe of his friends and her kin's hidden talent. As he was learning to get closer to Ghost, he saw Meera let her guard down and she showed him how she had been able to communicate with her family. He had wondered how she did so many times, for she never sent any letters nor ravens to her parents and never showed overtly any sadness over being away from them.

Now that he was in on their secret, it amazed him to think of Meera spending time with her family through Orin, her lizard lion. As it did too in regard to her mother watching over her through Móna, the marsh harrier that at times hovered in the Godswood. Part of him envied them for being able to do so, as he wished he could see his Mother as well as his family in Essos. Unfortunately, he could not warg properly yet in Ghost, and Meera wanted him to focus on his bond with his direwolf and strengthen it before trying to warg into another animal.

He enjoyed sharing his dreams with his direwolf and he found himself seeking Ghost out almost every time in his sleep. His companion was eager to let him share his mind and run with his brothers and sister as they sought to find something to eat.

All of the direwolves had grown considerably in the span of months, and Ghost's presence would guarantee him some peace when the Tyrells were present, as they were too afraid to get near his furry friend, especially Margaery. Ghost could feel his annoyance in regards to the Rose of Highgarden and so the white wolf took pleasure in scaring the young girl by stealing food from her plate whenever he could.

Today Ghost was quite energetic, probably because he had to behave properly in front of strangers which despite Loras, the Tyrells still were. Not that it had prevented him from running freely in the wolfswood with Mercy, Lynara, and Little Ben's still unnamed companion when the sun went down. Still, there was something in the air, something that Jon couldn't pinpoint but which made that day feel different. It wasn't until he got out of his lesson with the Maester and crossed paths with Meera that he understood why that was.

"They're almost here. My family," she said happily, pulling him to one side.

"You've seen them?"

"Aye! For days I tried to create a bond with a sparrow, and I finally managed to do so. They passed Castle Cerwyn. They will be here soon!"

"We have to warn Uncle Ben!" Jon said excitedly before thinking twice about what he said. "We can't. They will ask questions."

"Silly boy! A raven will arrive this very day from the Cerwyns." Meera smiled.

"I cannot wait to meet your mother," Jon said truthfully.

"You know her already."

"I know, but this time I will be truly meeting her!" Jon insisted, making Meera roll her eyes. "It has been years since your father or anyone from the Neck came to Winterfell, so of course, I am excited, and I am not the only one!"

Meera's smile broadened as they continued talking excitedly, and their smiles never left their faces even when later they were summoned to the Regent's solar.

"Judging by your faces, I suppose you already know what I am about to tell you?" his uncle Benjen said, watching them with a knowing look.

"Not at all, Uncle!" Jon rushed to reply, earning himself a nudge to his side from Meera.

"I should not be surprised, like father like daughter." Benjen chuckled. "Meera, do you think a feast would be appreciated? I know your father doesn't l much like them, but -"

"Mother is the same, my Lord. They will be content with being acknowledged, but they may feel uncomfortable being the center of attention." Meera answered.

"As I thought. I thank you for your input, Meera. Mayhaps you can relay this to my wife? I need to speak to my nephew alone." Benjen said and Jon's friend nodded as he tensed.

"Is something the matter, Uncle?"

"Someone delivered a package to Maester Luwin. It comes from the Wall."

"Is it…"

"No. It's a belated nameday present from Maester Aemon." Benjen replied, to his nephew's relief.

News from Essos had been scarce ever since Jon's reply to his grandmother after Loras' arrival. Only Viserys' letters were answered, under strict supervision. Jon's discontent at Rhaella had paled in comparison to his uncle's disappointment in him and Ashara and the boy had promised not to hide anything from him since.

Well, anything apart from him being a warg, though he suspected Benjen knew something was going on with the direwolves. Both his older cousins had dreams of their familiars, though less frequently than Jon did, and both Barbrey and Benjen had questioned him about his. He was always honest with them, only omitting the part where Meera helped him control his gift. She had asked him to let her talk directly to her parents about what she could share or not.

He only prayed that his aunt and uncle would forgive him for his last transgression.

He grabbed the package given to Benjen and read the missive written by his great-uncle.

Lord Stark,

I thank you for your kind gift after hearing of my declining health. I must say it was a very nice surprise as well as a delicious one.

While the academic part of myself would certainly argue, I wholeheartedly believe that the honey you sent me and the knowledge that a young lord cared deeply about my well-being helped me get better.

As a thank you and a gift for your nameday – which I apologize for not being able to send sooner due to my condition – I offer you and your family a rare book coming directly from the Citadel, with hopes that it will help you and yours in your endeavors.

As the Wall benefits greatly from the contributions of the North and its prosperity, I believe it is in our common interest to see it continue.

Kind regards,

Maester Aemon.

Jon couldn't contain a gasp of astonishment as he opened the package and read the book's cover.

Hidden Riches of the North, by Archmaester Harmune.

"How?" he whispered, recognizing the name of the writer.

"What is it, lad?"

"A book from the Archmaester who collected the legends of the Wall, but… This one is about the North." Jon said, showing the book to his frowning uncle. "If it is truly about our land's riches, it would be helpful to us."

"Maester Aemon is gifted indeed to pick out such invaluable items," Benjen said, not really looking pleased.

"Do you… Want me to send it back?" Jon asked, only realizing he was holding his breath and the book tightly against his chest when his uncle shook his head.

"It can be beneficial to us. And this time, at least it's not a dragon egg." the man jested. "Be careful not to show it to Luwin before you read all of it."

"I will, Uncle. May I send a letter of thanks to Maester Aemon?"

"Aye, lad. Be sure to run it through us before sending it."

"Of course!" Jon agreed as he ran to his room with his precious book, eager to start reading it.

So lost was he in his reading that he almost missed his new guests' arrival. Ghost came to him and dragged him to the courtyard, where everyone waited in line for the procession to arrive. None were giddier than Meera to see her family.

The Reeds arrived with much less pomp than their guests from the South, but their commanding presence silenced most of the crowd. They were dressed simply, as they had been when Jon stayed at Greywater Watch. A small glance at his cousin and Jon could see Beth's smirk as Lady Reed dismounted. The Lady of Greywater Watch, wearing breeches and a long green tunic as she did so..

Before Jon took a step forward to greet his guest, a white mass ran past him towards them.

"Ghost! Do not –"

"'Tis a great honor to finally meet you, Mac tíre Bán." (White Wolf) Jojen said, and to his surprise, came forward with his hand held to Ghost's muzzle, smiling as the direwolf licked it. "Aye. You will accomplish great things, you and your kin."

The moment felt heavy and Jon couldn't help but to gape at this exchange. Jojen seemed far different from the energetic boy he had met two years prior. Be it his sister's absence or another secret of the Crannogs, the six namedays boy looked older and wiser than any of Jon's foster brothers and sisters. That impression quickly changed as the boy's gaze fell on his sister, and soon the young side of Jojen showed as he embraced Meera warmly.

"I hope you can forgive my son for breaking protocol, my Lord." Howland Reed's voice brought his attention back to the greetings.

"Of course, Lord Reed. I know Meera was as eager to do so, and I wager she would have first had Jojen not moved."

"I would not, you ass!" Meera protested, still not letting go of her brother.

"It's Lord Ass to you, my Lady." Jon mocked, earning some chuckles and a glare from his Aunt Barbrey. "Forgive us, Lord Howland, Lady Jyana, and be welcome in Winterfell. It's a pleasure to have you here."

"The pleasure is shared, Lord Jon," Jyana said, bowing her head to him, and he was pleased to hear her be less formal. "I see that my daughter still doesn't know how to hold her tongue."

"Rest assured that besides this foul mouth of hers, her behavior is always correct, Lady Jyana." his Aunt Barbrey interjected while shaking her hand.

"That's a relief to hear." Jyana chuckled before opening her arms. "Come embrace your mother, child."

Jon's eyes watered as he saw both parents hug their daughter, and part of him felt envious of them for a moment. He would never get to do so with his true parents, not in this life, and he dearly missed his adoptive mother.

How long has it been since she left? Too long…

He shook his head, trying to push the sadness away and to rejoice for his friend who had awaited this moment for so very long.

The Reeds were quickly settled in their quarters, Meera having requested to share her room with Jojen for the duration of their stay, she eagerly showed them to their rooms while Jon and the others gathered in the sparring yard to work off the day's excitement.

"Mother said we're allowed to dress as we please for dinner tonight," Beth said happily.

"The Reeds don't seem too fond of formalities. As does Meera." Torrhen Karstark pointed out.

"They're from the Crannogs. They're used to a simple life." Lucan added.

"Still, it's refreshing not to have to dress fancy and stay still during a feast. I was getting tired of these tight dresses and the fast of the South!" Beth sighed loudly.

"I don't think I would have supported another southern feast! There's only so many apple pies you can eat in your lifetime!" Brandon added in the same tone, and Jon noticed Loras tensed at the not-so-subtle jab toward his family.

"There's nothing wrong with southern feasts. You're just jealous because you weren't asked to dance." Jon retorted.

"I don't like dancing," Brandon grumbled.

"You don't know how to. That is why you get Loras in trouble, for he has to dance more than his share because of you." Jon said, winking at his friend and earning a smile in return.

"Loras is indeed a great dancer." Beth agreed with a blush. "And you walk on your partner's feet."

"I'll show you my dancing, you little brat!" Brandon growled, grabbing his sister by her waist and twirling her around.

"Get off, stupid! You're all sweaty!" she whined as the others laughed loudly.

Dinner went by without any further skirmishes, everyone enjoying their time together, and Jon wished he could do the same without feeling the growing sadness in his heart. It was Ser Symon he turned to when he went to bed, hugging Egg as he voiced his feelings.

"She promised she would be back. She said she would never abandon me, and now… I know what I said about Edric and their family, and I know I shouldn't be mad because she is not my real mother, but –"

"You simply miss her, Jon. 'Tis perfectly normal. I too miss her sometimes."

"You do?" Jon exclaimed, surprised.

"Aye. I miss a lot of things and people. I miss the life I had before, and I miss your father. But you know what keeps me strong?" Ser Symon asked and he shook his head. "You, Jon. You do not realize how important you are to them, to your friends, to your family, and most of all to Ashara. I do not lie when I say you saved a lot of lives, Jon. Your grandmother, when she lost your father, your brother, and sister, she… She was close to giving up on life."

Jon gasped, feeling a lump in his throat.

"But… She had children…"

"True, but she was overwhelmed by sadness. Your grandmother spent days on Dragonstone just staring at the horizon. Until she heard about you through Arthur's lips. She realized then that she had to get over whatever she felt. That she had to protect both you and her remaining children. And you know of your mother's story?"

"What about you? You never talk about it…" Jon finally asked after a moment of hesitation.

"I… You saved my life too. You gave me a purpose." Ser Symon said almost whispering.

"Oh. Right. You want me to be…"

"A knight." Ser Symon said, to Jon's surprise. "I want to repay your father's memory and be the one to knight you, as he did me. I want you to be a knight, a true one, to defend the innocent and protect your people."

"Even if I don't want to –"

"As a Lord, a Warden, or whatever else, I will make sure to make the best man out of you that I can. You're already a good lad. A lad who needs to work more on balancing his weight on his feet, but a good lad still." the knight japed to lighten the mood, which worked perfectly.

His legs were burning. He had been hunting all night with his kin and had not been able to find game in the Godswood. The nameless one had once again scared their prey off, but he had not been as annoyed at his brother as Mercy, knowing that they would feed him at their companions' table the next day.

He was nearing the sacred wood when he felt a pull toward the place. He split from his kin toward the pull and was not surprised to see the woman standing in front of the tree. He had felt her around in the keep, she had been there yet not, and now he could feel the real power emanate from her being.

"Your Heart Tree is more at peace than ours," she said, making him tilt his head. "Forgive me for my manners. Old habits die hard. Good morrow, Ghost. Jon, I believe it is time for you to wake up. Will you be so kind as to join us here?"

Her poised and gentle voice warmed his heart and soon he found his mind separate from his companion.

Jon almost fell from his bed, so eager he was to run to the Godswood and see for himself if he wasn't going mad. He nonetheless took the time to wash his face and get dressed properly before heading to his destination. Pleased then to see both Lady Jyana and Ghost waiting for him in front of the Heart Tree.

"You did not need to rush, we would have waited anyway." the lady teased.

"I… It is not polite to make your guest wait too long." he retorted as he panted.

"As attentive as I observed." she smiled, making him blush. "My husband will be talking to your uncle today, yet it falls to me to do so to you, for I have many things to tell you that your uncle is not ready to hear yet."

"I promised Uncle Benjen and Aunt Barbrey not to keep anything from them."

"Oh, but you did, didn't you? And my people are truly grateful for your oath," she said and his embarrassment grew. "I wish the news I bring to you would not trouble you more, yet troubling news it is, for the moment at least."

Fear tugged at Jon's heart and he readied himself to hear what Lady Jyana wanted to say, nodding when he felt his Lord's face fall into place.

"Your uncle from abroad has decided on his path." she started. "He has left the comfort of his home to go out on his own."

Jon gasped, feeling panic invade his body. He instantly knew who it was she had mentioned, for he had been in contact with him a few times for the last two years, always under his uncle Benjen's supervision. Viserys had understood his concerns about the plans made for him by Rhaella and had even shared his own about what was expected of him. Both of them feared the weight of bearing a Crown, though Viserys said he would do so for his family if Jon felt it wasn't his calling, but that he wanted to be a knight first and foremost. They wrote about responsibilities, duty, wants, life in exile, and what it entailed for Jon's paternal side. It made the Lord worry about his kin's safety, yet happy to be surrounded by his loving maternal side.

"He… He would never…"

To think Viserys would abandon the brother and sister he was so set on protecting was inconceivable.

"Did… Did something happen?" Jon asked, his mind still reeling.

"A disagreement with his mother," she answered simply.

"He wouldn't leave her over a simple disagreement!" Jon retorted. "He loves her. He loves his family."

Had Viserys lied to him in his letters? Had Jon been wrong about his assumptions? Unless something terrible had happened, Jon was certain his uncle would never leave their side.

"Sometimes leaving is the best thing you can do to make your point clear. I cannot presume to know what is in his mind, Jon, but I know it was necessary." Jyana insisted.

"What did she do? What did she say to push him away?" he snarled, his resentment against his grandmother growing as his mind tried to process everything.

"The same she did to make you distance yourself from her," Jyana answered, fueling his anger. "Do not blame her for this, for she does so enough already."

"But –"

"She's been taught a hard lesson, lad. A harsh, but necessary one."

"Yet he's all alone, unprotected." he protested.

"He is safe. I swear it."

"How do you know? How can you be sure?" The shriek of the marsh harrier made him jump in fright and Jyana's smirk was enough of an answer for him. "Fair enough."

"I know 'tis frightening news, but I promise you that your family will always be watched over until you can do the same."

"Me? How can I –"

"You're a warg, too. A young one, but a warg still."

"But Meera said… She said that I may not be able to bond with another familiar."

"For now, you must strengthen your bond with Ghost. Meera has bonded with her second familiar recently, hasn't she?" she asked and he nodded. "She warged into Orin every day for two years before she felt it right to try."

"Two years is a long time…" Jon sighed, feeling desperate.

"Aye, she wasn't confident enough to venture into unknown territory. But you, dear, you have something that she doesn't."

"What is it?"

"I have a present for you."

"A present, my Lady?" Jon frowned, confused by the conversation's sudden change of direction.

"From your mother. I met her in Dorne and she tasked me to give you this. She wished she could have given it herself, but she is stuck in Dorne between her duties to her family and some political ones."

"Is she in danger? Is my family…" Jon felt his heart begin to beat a little bit faster and his hands began to sweat.

"The situation is complicated, but I know she will appreciate knowing you still consider her as family."

"She is my Mother. She will always be my mother," he said firmly. "What is going on in Dorne?"

"The Daynes have been put in an awful position in Westeros because of their allegiances. They're not only hated here, Jon. They are suffering and scorned in their own lands. Your Mother coming back did not make things easier for them."

"It's my fault." Jon realized. "I sent her back. I sent her back and she's now not even happy in her home…"

"Yet she always thinks of you," Jyana said, holding out a cloth and a vial for him to take. "She thought the one you have may have lost her scent, so she made another one and sent some of her perfume. She may not be with you in person, but she is in your heart as you are in hers."

Jon's hands trembled as a wave of conflicting emotions overwhelmed him. The handkerchief was embroidered in both his sigil and hers, the glowing star of House Dayne shining over the wolf of House Stark. It took him some time to realize there was something different in the design.

"The direwolf…"

"Aye, it is white, as Ghost. She quickly went to work when she heard of your wolf's color. She wasn't happy to hear that you withheld this information from her…"

Jyana's voice faded while he lost his fight against the tears he had previously managed to keep from falling. His unfocused gaze was still on the piece of cloth his mother had embroidered for him. All his longing, sadness, disappointment, anger, and love, all came out in a heart-wrenching sob and he felt himself being engulfed in a warm embrace.

"I… I almost don't remember… Her face… How dare they… Keep her away… from me?" he hiccuped, his words and thoughts not truly coherent at that moment.

"There, there, my child. I am so sorry. Life has been harsh on you and your loved ones. That is what motivates you, that more than anything. That's what will push you through mastering your warging. Your desire to see them, to be close to them. Use your longing for your mother as a weapon, Jon. Let it not be a weakness."

"What if… What if I can't?"

"Then Meera will help, and so will I. We are here for you, Jon. We swore to your mother that we would protect you, and we cannot do so without protecting your loved ones."

"Thank you, my Lady. For everything." Jon whispered as he hugged her tightly, needing to feel the warmth of a mother's love for a little while longer.

"Always, lad. Always."

Never had words felt to Jon as comforting as these, and for the first time in long, his heart stopped aching.

Braavos 292 AC.

Rhaella.

Having her grandson annoyed with her was not something easily fixed and so instead, Rhaella attempted to fix the growing rift between her and her son. Viserys liked not the plans she'd made for him and Rhaella almost found she wished she'd not let him practice his swordsmanship so much. Only the thought that it would be much needed for her son to wield a sword and be able to protect himself and them, in the future, had all dissuaded her from the notion he'd made a mistake.

'Even if it seemed the cost had been one ambition for another' she thought with some annoyance.

Not truly understanding the way a young boy's mind worked, Rhaella hadn't seen the dangers of placing Viserys so close to Ser Arthur. Instead, the thoughts of what could have been had Rhaegar practiced more with the sword than he did spending time with his books, had been what she'd concentrated on. Not even hearing tales that it was through no lack of skill that her son had lost his fight with the usurper was enough to change Rhaella's mind. Knowing too that Aemon would be practicing under Syrio Forel had influenced her a little. She believed it would do Viserys good to be doing what his nephew was, to learn as Aemon was, and thus feel closer to him because of it.

"Would that I'd known it would lead to this." she sighed as she rose from her bed.

They had argued the night before. She and Viserys had spoken and Rhaella had tried to get her son to see just why it was so important to bring Dorne into the fold. Her son had brought up some valid points which had made her think somewhat, if not changing her mind. It was true that the Dornish Spears had lost at the Trident, but then again, once Rhaegar had fallen, the battle itself mattered not.

Still, she'd speak to Arthur and to Ashara and see what could be done to see that the Dornish Army would be better prepared when the time came. They may not be fighting against the Men of the North this time, but Rhaella was under no illusions that the battles would be just as fierce. The Stag and the Falcon would not easily give up the Iron Throne and Tywin Lannister would do all he could to see his spawn inherit the crown.

"We'll be ready for them all," Rhaella said determinedly as she called for her ladies to help her dress and made ready for the day.

Once she was ready, Rhaella made her way to the family dining room. Seeing Dany and Maekar already present once she arrived at the door were not the boons to her heart they usually were. Her mind and thoughts then turned to the child who wasn't there and Rhaella hoped that Viserys' ire would diminish over the course of the day. For now, she allowed him to pout and stew in his room and only when she sat, did she worry about him not eating just to spite her.

"Have some food sent to my son's room," she said to one of the servants before she turned to greet her other two children.

"Good Morrow, Mother," Dany said warmly.

"Mother," Maekar added, her son lost in thought as he sometimes seemed to be. Rhaella for once not wondering what it was that had taken Maekar's attention, as even when she asked she'd at times find herself just as lost.

Her son was strange and enigmatic. Prone to long silences and often he looked far too much like Rhaegar when he was lost in thought. When she'd first found out that most if not all of those thoughts were of war, Rhaella had worried. Yet when she had spoken of it to his father, Ferrego had very much not. Their son wasn't an unhappy child and nothing in his thoughts were not things that he'd not one day have been taught anyway. Ferrego was almost joyful that it seemed that Maekar would not now have a need to be taught such things. As he was by the fact that at merely four Namedays, Maekar could already beat him at cyvasse.

The sound of laughter soon took Rhaella from her thoughts. Dany had said something to her brother who was now the happy child that his father named him. Rhaella soon joined in with the japes and games of the morning while eating her food sparingly. At what point it came, she would later know not. One moment she was laughing at something that Maekar had said to Dany and the next, she felt her chest begin to tighten. Wishing not to worry the children, Rhaella rose to her feet and made an excuse about the privy. Both Maekar and Dany looked at her worriedly, which she managed to relax them about. It was just as she reached the corridor that she saw them running. Ser Arthur followed by Barristan and Rhaella was soon crumbling to the ground.

"Gone, what do you mean he's gone?" Find Him! Find My Son!"

The hours turned to days. Days to weeks, until finally, a moon had passed. Her husband had all but closed down the city in the hours that Viserys' room had been found empty. Men had been sent along every road or path that could be traveled. Ships were sent down rivers or to sea in search of any vessel that Viserys could be hiding on.

Rhaella had at first clung to her other two children. In those first few days, she'd refused to let Dany or Maekar out of her sight. All thoughts of crowns and conquests were forgotten and instead, she'd gone out of her way to make sure that both her children had all they needed or wished for. At night, she'd tuck them into their beds and alternate between which of them she'd sleep beside. Dany held onto her tightly until she fell asleep, while Maekar did his best to be the man of the house and used his arms to comfort her as best he could.

Viserys had left a letter and it had felt like an arrow to her heart. All her failings regarding her son had been laid bare and they had shamed her greatly. So desperate had she become to seek vengeance and justice for all she'd lost, that it had turned her into the one thing she'd have never believed she could be. She'd become her father, her husband. Instead of the loving mother she believed herself to be, she'd become a cruel and uncaring tyrant.

"And it's cost me, my son," she said, weeping uncontrollably.

Her husband, Ser Arthur, and Ser Barristan. Those who served her and those she'd named almost as friends, none of them could rouse her from the state of despair she'd fallen into. Other than when she was with her children, or her dragon egg, not a single moment of her day wasn't spent regretting the hurt she'd caused. Yet her prayers remained unanswered and her promises to change went unlistened to by the gods.

Had the letter not arrived, then Rhaella may have known nothing but pain and suffering. Each thing she'd done since escaping Dragonstone, was now something she looked at with horror and distaste. Her mind did not allow her to see that while she'd made some mistakes, some grave ones with her family, it had never been her intent to do so. That all she'd done was necessary, even if it could have been handled better. Nor that there was a path to fix it, should she be willing to walk that path. Something that she very much was. All of that would have remained unknown to her, such was the blame she now attributed to herself, and then the letter arrived.

"A letter for you my queen." Ser Barristan said as he held the letter in front of him and approached her as if he feared her wrath would be risked in doing so.

"I care not, be gone, Ser, Be gone from my sight."

"My queen, the man who delivered it…."

"BEGONE!"

The sound of Maekar's voice calmed her rising ire. Her son took the letter from Ser Barristan and then moved to her. Had she the presence of mind to look at him, then Rhaella would have named her son thrice his age. So composed and calm was Maekar as he moved to her and spoke, that it completely belied his years.

"You must read this, Mother. It concerns my brother."

"He's gone, Maekar, he's gone and he left because of me…."

"No, Mother. He left to follow his path." Maekar said as he softly touched her back. "Read, Mother."

Left alone with just the letter in hand, Rhaella broke the seal and found she'd never read anything that brought her as much relief as the first of the words on the parchment.

My Queen,

I write to you to let you know that your son is safe, well, and under my protection. Viserys has found a home with myself and those who serve me and though it's a home he much welcomes being a part of, it's but a temporary one. In time, his path will lead him back to your side, my queen. Back to the side of his family. For now, he and I shall travel together and I shall see that he remains safe and well.

Be at peace my queen and know that your son is with kin once more. That he is with family and though a more distant branch than that of your own, a branch all the same. There are but few dragons left in this world, my queen. Yet in time, we once again shall be many. Until that time, know that your son is healthy and well, and will remain so. That in time, he'll write to you and speak some of his adventures and the dreams he has for his future. A future that I shall do all in my power to see come to pass.

I am your ever-faithful servant.

Your long-forgotten kin.

Your son's Protector.

Maegor Targaryen, no longer lost son of Prince Aerion.

The words made no sense. While the relief that Rhaella felt was palpable. Knowing her son was safe, that he was unharmed, allowed her to force away the worst of her fears for now. Reading that Viserys had somehow found family, helped to force away most of the rest. Though she understood it not and as she worked out the ages in her head, she found she could not.

Still, the letter promised that Viserys would be looked after, and be protected. That he'd be allowed to follow his own path. A path that Rhaella had tried to deny to him so she could get him to follow the one she wished for him instead. It would not now be something that she'd seek to do. Her son wasn't lost to her, he was simply for now, apart from her. If she wished him back by her side, which more than anything in the world was what she wanted, then she could not risk forcing him further away.

"A Kingsguard should that be your wish," Rhaella said softly.

Dinner that night was a much more pleasant affair. Her husband was relieved she was feeling better and though he'd been loath to call off the search for Viserys, he did so at her behest. When she told her children that their brother was with a different dragon, Dany told her about her dreams and Rhaella felt even more reassured. Maekar simply said that Viserys was walking his path, as must they all. Something which it took until she tucked her son in bed for him to explain further.

"My path is by your side, Mother, now and always."

"So you'll not leave me and run off while my back is turned?" she asked half in jape.

"No, I'd ask before we part," Maekar replied so assuredly that it took her aback.

"You'll leave?" she asked worriedly.

"When the war is upon us, I too must play my part, Mother," Maekar said and Rhaella shuddered at the thought of her youngest child playing at war.

Dany just asked if Viserys would write to them and when he'd return. Rhaella was only able to answer the first of those questions with any certainty. Her son would write, but when he'd return was unknown to any but Viserys or the Gods.

Before taking to her bed, Rhaella wrote a letter to her grandson. In it, she begged his forgiveness for all she'd put him through. She asked to hear his thoughts on what it was he wished for his life. Explained why she had been so keen to see him and Viserys wed to the women she'd chosen for them. Why it was that it was him and none other that she sought to take the throne. Little did she know when the letter was sent the next day that Aemon would refuse to read it or some of the others she'd send until many years later. Her grandson's anger at her over her son clouded his mind and the letter that Viserys had sent him, would sour their relationship a little more.

Highgarden 293 AC.

Lady Mira Forrester.

To this day, she still wondered why she had been chosen as a foster for Margaery Tyrell. Not that she didn't enjoy Highgarden, as the keep in itself did not cease to amaze Mira, so different it was from Ironrath and all that she knew from the North.

Her mother had been over the moon when the proposal of her fostering South had been made, feeling it a sign of the Gods. Yet Mira had no time getting used to the idea, for not more than two days after she learned of it, the Tyrells were at their door. She spoke briefly to Margaery, who was less than amicable, and Mira remembered crying that night in her mother's arms.

"I do not want to go!"

"'Tis an opportunity too good to pass, dear. Not many from the North get to foster South of the Neck!" Mira's mother insisted. "I know you had hoped to be in Beth Stark's retinue after the dust had settled with the Whitehills, yet this is the next best thing that could happen to you."

"But the Lady… Margaery… She does not like me. And you heard the rumors. She hates everything from the North!" Mira whined

"She does not know you, dear. Lady Alerie said that you'll have plenty of friends in Highgarden. Should Margaery Tyrell be as the rumors have said, then you will find other friends not as prejudiced as her. And should you not, then we will have you back home in no time."

"You will not force me to stay against my will?" Mira asked between hiccups.

"Of course not! We only want what is best for you, my sweet girl." Elissa retorted, caressing her hair.

"Then… Then I'll do it. I'll go. I will not shame you nor Father." Mira said with more determination than she truly felt.

"My sweet, sweet daughter. None of my children ever shamed me. Do not burden yourself with things out of your control, and come back if you wish it."

Margaery's parents had been nice to her, as well as Lord Willas and Ser Garlan, though Mira could not say the same about their sister. The Rose of Highgarden only made a show of talking to her when she was in the presence of her grandmother. Meanwhile, the Queen of Thorns, contrary to her reputation, had been incredibly agreeable. Far more than what Mira had expected.

"Good Morrow, Mira. Have you slept well?" Elinor, one of Margaery's cousins, asked her when she came to break her fast.

"I have, thank you for asking." Mira smiled as she sat down and helped herself from a plate of cut peaches. A fruit she had learned was her favorite only a short time after her first days in Highgarden.

"We are given the day off from our lessons," Elinor whispered conspiratorially, to Mira's surprise.

"Is something the matter?" the young girl frowned.

"Well, I heard my grandfather talk with Lady Olenna this morn. Whatever is going on, none of them seemed happy about it."

"For the Lady to dismiss us for the whole day, it must be important," Mira noted.

"I only hope this will not put Marge in a foul mood. She's been so hard to please ever since we left Winterfell." Elinor sighed loudly.

"She had hoped Loras would come back with us this time." Megga, another of Margaery's cousins, added as an explanation. "Her disappointment was immense when you came here instead of her brother."

"I know…" Mira said, trembling while she thought of her uncooperative companion's mood swings.

For the most part, Margaery was pleasant to her cousins and a poised young lady when having to deal with anyone who was not Mira. At best, the Northern lady was ignored. At worst, dirty looks and snide remarks about her home were sent her way. Not to her. Never to her. Yet Margaery made no move to acknowledge her presence nor to include her in the day-to-day tasks they were set to accomplish together. It created a weight in the room every time Mira was there.

Dread filled her when the atmosphere got tenser as the day went by. Margaery seemed lost in thought, completely different from the image she presented on a normal day. It was only when Mira and the other ladies in waiting were summoned into Lady Alerie's embroidery parlor that they understood the seriousness of what had happened.

"You will hear it sooner than later, but I prefer to be the one to relate it to you, for my daughter as well as myself were more distraught when troubling news reached us this morn." the woman started.

"Troubling news, my Lady?" Elinor repeated.

"We learned from my Goodbrother, Lord Jorah Mormont, that my sister has… vanished in the Wolfswood, on her way to visit my son in Winterfell." Lady Alerie said to gasps from the girls.

"Lady Lynesse? Vanished?" Elinor held her hand to her chest, her shock clear for all to see. As too was her worry.

"Was she kidnapped?" Megga asked.

"There haven't been any bandits in the Wolfswood in more than a year," Mira said, noticing Lady Olenna's sharp glance at her upon hearing these words.

"That is what Lord Stark has notified my Goodbrother, who in turn informed us of her disappearance." Lady Alerie added. "They are actively searching for her and we shall pray nothing bad has happened to her."

"We will pray to the Mother for her protection, my Lady," Elinor said to a grateful nod from the lady.

"I wish you to be there for Margaery most of all, ladies. She is close to her aunt and she already took the distance between them pretty harshly, as you all know." Lady Alerie pleaded to frantic nods. "Good, now go about your day."

"Lady Mira, if you do not mind, we wish to ask you some questions about the North." Olenna Tyrell said, stopping her from leaving the room.

Mira tensed but complied, replying to the best of her abilities to the numerous questions that the Queen of Thorns and the Warden of the South had for her about the lands surrounding the Wolfswood and the possibilities of an abduction in the North.

"I wouldn't say it is impossible, but knowing the Wolfswood, the lands around, and the people lording those lands, unless it is a wildling raid that had happened, no bandits would dare to cross the Wolfswood."

"How can you be so sure?" Lady Olenna questioned.

"The Glovers, the Boltons, and the Starks would not tolerate any misbehavior in their lands, my lady."

"That's what I thought after hearing what happened to your brother. I thank you, Lady Mira, for your insight." Lady Olenna said, dismissing her quickly and leaving the girl in a state of shock.

How Could they know?

Had they inquired about her family?

Did they now think it was the same thing that had happened with the Lady?

Would they put the blame on them?

The following days were as chaotic, if not more than the previous one. Lord Hightower traveled himself to Highgarden, demanding that his Liege do something about the shame brought upon his House. It seemed that Lady Mormont had not been happy with her marriage and had run away deliberately, helped by a guard sent by her sister, the actual Lady of Highgarden. The unfruitful searches throughout the North made by most Houses only added to the shame of House Mormont and House Hightower. It had even pushed them to send a raven to the Crown and inform them of the situation.

Mira felt bad for Lord Jorah and his family. The rumors she heard about Bear Island and the North as a whole made her extremely upset, yet she tried not to let it show so as not to fuel the prejudiced way the Southrons thought of her homeland. She was only two and ten and she didn't know much of the Mormonts, but they were her countrymen and she didn't think it fair to lay the blame on them. Not when it was clear that the woman had decided to leave her home. That she didn't even petition the Starks to find a solution or go back to her family in the Reach, didn't put her in a good light according to Mira.

"What will happen to my aunt should they find her?" Margaery asked her out of the blue as they made their way out of their lesson with the Septa.

"I do not know, my Lady. 'Tis not something I've ever heard of." Mira tried to lie and failed miserably.

"Will they kill her like they do with deserters from the Night's Watch?" Margaery worriedly asked.

"No! Of course not!" Mira exclaimed, slightly offended, before calming herself when she saw only worry and tears in the other girl's eyes. "She is not a criminal. Lord Stark will never condone a woman to be sentenced to death if she has committed no crime."

"My Grandfather said she has. That her behavior had dishonored the Hightowers and the Reach. He also thinks Mother knew about my aunt's plan. I heard him say that should she set foot in the Reach we will be obligated to send her to the Silent Sisters." Margaery said with difficulty.

"Lord Jon will not let any harm happen to your aunt. I know it."

"How can you be so certain?" Margaery frowned.

"Because…" she hesitated, almost blurting what she had tried to keep to herself for so long, before then finding another example. "Because of Asha Greyjoy. She's supposed to be a prisoner, right? A criminal of war? A hostage to her father's behavior. Yet Lord Jon asked for more leniency and she now works in his household."

"He did?" Margaery asked, surprise evident on her face.

"Aye, he was the one who did so. At first, the Lords weren't too happy with it, my father being one of them. They said the Starks were weak. That their future liege was a mere boy and a fool. But they have since changed their minds when everyone saw the girl work so diligently. Now they say that it's the first time they've ever been an Ironborn doing honest work. So it may be their upbringing that is lacking, not their character."

"I did not know that…" Margaery whispered.

"Mayhaps he will do the same with your Aunt should she refuse to be sent back to Bear Island?" Mira said tentatively.

"You said it yourself, my Aunt is no criminal. Why should she be treated as an Ironborn?" Margaery snapped, sounding more like the girl that Mira had come to know and dislike.

"Because she still did something bad according to her husband and her family, my Lady."

"She did not! I'm sure it's a misunderstanding, and if she did… If… If she truly left her unhappy marriage behind… This is not a crime!" Margaery countered petulantly, as the other girl thought she would.

"The way she did it brought tension between the Reach and the North. The Mormonts feel shamed by her actions and will probably want retribution."

"Had they treated her better, then she wouldn't have shamed them so!"

"You seem to think your Aunt was kept here against her will. She was not a prisoner. She was free to travel as she pleased and trusted to do so alone, which is exactly how she planned her escape in the first place. Yet she abused her good family's trust to get away from them. From what I know, it was the Reach who didn't want to welcome her back. The fault lies here, not in the North." Mira said crispily.

"Nonsense! She's from one of the most influential families here!"

"Yet you said so yourself that your grandfather wants to treat her as a criminal." Mira retorted, her anger at the petulant lady flaring. "She has brought shame to her House, and every action has consequences. Your parents are bearing the brunt of your grandfather's ire, and I wish for your aunt's sake that should she be found one day, and that her fate would be decided by my Liege rather than your grandfather."

"Of course, you'd say that. You're of the North. You can't possibly know -"

"Know what? How families behave when faced with a shameful situation? Believe me, my Lady, I wish I did not." Mira said bitterly.

"How…"

"Your aunt is not the only one I know who tried going against what was expected of her. Only the one I know didn't succeed and would have paid dearly for it if it hadn't been for the Starks."

"Who?"

"With due respect, this is not my story to tell," Mira admitted, feeling the flow of her emotions overwhelm her. "Now if you'll excuse me -"

"What happened, Mira?"

"I'm sure you can ask your grandmother about it. I am not feeling well." Mira sighed, starting to walk away only to be stopped by Margaery's hold on her arm.

"I'm sorry, I truly am! I just… I didn't realize… I know I have no right to ask, but you said I should write to Jon Stark about my aunt to plead for her…"

"That is what my mother did. Asher… My brother… He fell in love with a lady from a rival House. Gwyn Whitehill." Mira started, unable to hide her resentment towards the latter. "Our families were against the match and Asher could not understand why. He was certain that the feud between our houses could be solved by this, so he ran away with Gwyn Whitehill, hoping to reach Winterfell to petition for their match before they got caught."

"But they didn't…" Margaery deduced, and for once Mira heard something akin to compassion in the other girl's voice.

"They got surrounded by men from House Whitehill, and Gwyn's brother got hurt in the fight that ensued. Lord Ludd asked for my brother's head for the kidnapping of his daughter and his son's injuries. Mother immediately sent word to Lord Stark about the situation, fearing that the Whitehill would use what happened to Lady Lyanna for their advantage. "

"They meant to use Lyanna Stark's story? How awful! What did Lord Stark say?"

"Lord Benjen asked to hear from Gwyn and Asher what they had to say, but before they did... My father decided to ban my brother from his House and the North, as was his right as head of House Forrester." Mira explained, painfully reliving the tale.

"Exile?" Margaery gasped.

"Aye. I still do not understand why. It was not a kidnapping. Lady Gwyn was willing to wed my brother. Yet my father said Asher brought dishonor to our House and wasn't even worthy of serving at the Wall." Mira said angrily. "Lord Benjen was not having it. He took Asher to Winterfell and waited until he heard from Gwyn to pass his judgment. When she came and went against her father to plead for Asher's life, everyone knew they were in love. Lord Benjen asked once again if a peaceful resolution couldn't be found, but the Whitehills didn't want to be tied with a Forrester, and Gwyn… Gwyn went along with her family. I guess she feared the repercussions of being wedded to a nameless man."

"But you said…"

"Asher was under the Starks' protection, but our father had denounced him as his son, so he had no name from then on. There was no future for them in the North, even though Lord Jon had suggested they create a new House sworn to them."

"Jon did that?" Margaery said, surprised.

"Aye. He was even more sympathetic to Asher than Lord Benjen. He even asked my brother to become part of his guard, but Asher, not wanting to add more challenges or dishonor to those who protected him, refused and decided to leave for Essos for good."

"But he did nothing wrong!"

"I know, but 'tis the way of the world. We have to be dutiful sons or daughters and to do right by our House. My brother sacrificed his honor for love, fought for it, and suffered greatly because of it. People would remember what he did and the dishonor he'd brought to my ancestors' memory. That is what my father thinks, at least."

"Lord Stark could have forced your family to accept the match."

"He did what he could as a Regent, my Lady. Ultimately, the feud between House Forrester and House Whitehill spread to their sworn houses. House Glover and House Bolton were at each other's throats and it became problematic. Lady Stark is tied to House Bolton through her nephew and Roose Bolton is not a man you would wish to have against you. That the Starks were willing to risk their alliances for Asher was more than appreciated by my mother and myself."

"And your father?"

"Still refuses to name Asher as his son, and is as stubborn as ever," Mira answered, shaking her head. She still couldn't forgive him for abandoning her brother, his own son, to his fate, but Asher had told her not to hold this against him.

"I'm sorry that happened to your brother," Margaery said and Mira could hear the sincerity in her voice. "How old was he when it happened?"

"Seven and ten. I was ten."

"So it was two years ago? Loras never told me about it…" Margaery said sadly. "He said I should be nice to you because you deserved it, so I thought… but I never… Had I known, I would have been…"

"Nicer?" Mira chuckled. "I don't need to be pitied, my Lady."

"You're right, but still… I feel absolutely terrible! When you talk about Asher, I can feel your heartbreak. He is your favorite sibling, isn't he?" Margaery said to Mira's surprise.

Mira and Asher were not close in age, yet, he had always been her favorite brother. Rodrick was like their father, strict and harsh, while Asher was mischievous and always made her laugh. She felt his absence more truly than the rest of the household. The Starks had used their influence to have him settle in Essos as an envoy to the Northern trade and Asher began sending her letters when she arrived at Highgarden. Mira had once again Jon Stark to thank for this, as the first letter arrived from Winterfell with her Liege's reassurance that he would see her letters delivered to Asher if she wanted to maintain a correspondence with her brother.

"How do you know?"

"You speak about him as I do with Loras…" Margaery whispered.

"Oh…"

"I… Knowing how much I miss him, even though he feels happy to be away from us, I cannot imagine how it would feel not to be able to see him."

"It is hard, but at least they are alive. There's still hope for us, my Lady. We may not be able to be as close to them as we wish, but as long as we draw breath, we cannot lose hope. The same goes for your Aunt."

"You're right. Thank you, Mira, for telling me everything and for giving me hope. Given how distant I have been from the day we met, it truly means a lot to me."

"I will not presume to know why you felt the need to be hostile to me, but I hope one day we can be on cordial terms, if not friendly." Mira declared, meaning all the words she said.

"I thought… I think my parents want you to marry my brother." Margaery admitted, surprising Mira once more, and the Northern girl couldn't help but laugh.

"Me? Oh, I don't think you should worry about this, my Lady. I am of too low status for a match with Lord Loras. Moreover, I've been brought here not to learn the ways of the South, but to teach you the ways of the North."

"The ways of the… You mean that I…"

"I know not what the future holds for us, but I believe this is not my betrothal announcement you should await, my Lady." Mira declared, looking at the decomposing face of the Rose of Highgarden with something akin to glee.

King's Landing 293 AC.

Cersei Lannister.

Cersei had never thought Joffrey would take a liking to learn how to wield a sword. Yet he had and now spent much time in the sparring yard. All because of Robert and Jon Stark's silly wager in Lannisport.

From the moment his friend's legitimized bastard had opened his mouth about making her firstborn his squire instead of him, Robert had pestered Joffrey about training with the sword.

Her oaf of husband had been set on making him become a knight who would bring glory to the Baratheon name, but not on training him himself. How could he do so, when he had as much patience as an auroch?

Joffrey, eager to please his supposed father, agreed to learn from the Kingsguard how to do so, and Cersei had to intervene to give her conditions on the matter.

"Jaime will be in charge of his training," she stated firmly.

"The Kingslayer?"Robert frowned.

"Indeed. If you want my son to learn how to wield a sword, why should it not be from the best sword in the Kingsguard?"

"Then the Blackfish should–"

"It will be Ser Jaime or yourself. I will not have someone else train our son." she insisted.

Watching Jaime go over her son's forms made her think of days since long past. A time when she dreamt of doing the same thing her brother was taught and knew she could master best.

An annoying whine soon caught her attention and she rolled her eyes seeing her Goodnephew complain to his master at arms.

What was Robert thinking, agreeing to bring the worthless boy to foster here? Not only was he younger than her son and less experienced, but it also meant they would have to suffer more visits from his parents.

"At least he won't be here permanently and will be gone in a year or two." she thought to herself.

The boy and the rest of his annoying family had come to visit the Arryns, who finally welcomed their first child a few moons back. Robert Arryn, named after Cersei's husband to give him strength, was anything but the definition of a healthy babe. How he had managed to survive in that awful woman's inhospitable womb was nothing short of a miracle. Still, Jon Arryn was boasting with pride about having a son while his fishy wife worried constantly about her babe. Lysa Arryn even refused to have a wet nurse for fear of him being poisoned or dying because of bad milk. Though Cersei would think death a mercy for the poor frail boy.

Compared to him, Cersei's second son was strong and hale. At two Namedays, Tommen was as energetic as his brother and as sweet as his sister. The King had the spare he wanted so much, yet Robert couldn't spare more than a few minutes with him without getting upset. Not that Tommen ever did anything to deserve the treatment he endured. However, simply seeing her blonde-haired boy would bring Robert back to the day of his birth.

The day Cersei got a small measure of her revenge on her husband.

An eye for an eye. A name for a name.

Ever since she had gotten the confirmation that she was once again with child, and even before, she had made her plan known to her brother. Cersei had then made certain that Grand Maester was on her side. Pycelle, as always not wanting to displease her or her father. So it had been easy to manipulate him. She had taken the time to write to the High Septon and had offered a hefty donation for the Sept of Baelor. All so that her will could and would be done as soon as she had given birth.

Should the babe be a girl, she would be named Joanna. Should it be a boy, then the name would be Tommen.

Pycelle only had to send a messenger to the Sept and soon after the bell tolled, the clamor of the people hailing the new prince as Tommen Baratheon had sounded out all through King's Landing. It had left her furious oaf of a husband no choice but to accept the name, just as he had forced her to do with Myrcella. This didn't mean he did not put up a fight about it, but Cersei could still gleefully remember his distraught and angered expression at Jon Arryn's words. The same words that he'd thrown at her previously, were pronounced to him.

"There's nothing we can do, Robert. The people already know the Prince's name."

"His name is Orys!" Robert retorted petulantly, making Cersei laugh.

"I wonder… How powerless do you feel, now that I have robbed you of your son's name as you have me of my daughter's?"

"You did all this out of spite?"

"Oh, no. Not entirely. Orys Baratheon is a terrible name for a babe. One that I would not force my son to bear. But I must say that seeing you desperate, right now, as you know you cannot do as it pleases you, for you will be ridiculed by all, is something I enjoy greatly."

"You whore!" Robert yelled before she felt her cheek burn, and Jon Arryn's angry voice rose to stop his former ward.

She could feel the blood dripping from her lip and while her cheek still hurt, the satisfaction she sensed was enough for now to overwhelm the pain. Yet her husband's strike was not forgiven nor would it be forgotten and one day she swore it would be returned a hundredfold.

"I shall bear this as a badge of honor," she said, grinning at a bewildered Robert.

"You are a deranged woman."

"And you, dear husband, are late for your hunt. I hope you'll bring back some game to honor the birth of our sweet prince, Tommen."

Her eyes found the excited ones of her firstborn, Joffrey seemingly having defeated Steffon and waiting for her to show that she had noticed. Which Cersei now did with a nod of approval.

She might not like her son taking such risks, but she definitely liked the idea of him being able to put down others as easily as her brother used to.

When her father came to the Red Keep with the proposal of fostering, Cersei had vehemently opposed it. Even more so the other thing he suggested.

"I will not send my only daughter to freeze to some savage land, and certainly I will not wed her to a bastard!"

"That bastard is the future Lord of Winterfell and one of the wealthiest potential suitors for your daughter. Besides, you know you will have no say in the matter. Robert wants this boy close to him because of who his father was."

"I will not have it! My girl is a princess and she is made for more than the North."

"And what, pray tell, is better than the North? Do you plan to wed Myrcella to her brother, like the Targaryens? Or to Stannis' get?" Tywin asked snidely.

"At least they are of royal blood."

"Be logical, Cersei. Logic is what put us here, not sentiment." Tywin countered. "If you wed Myrcella to Steffon Baratheon, then who will Robert consider for his heir? Not the boy's sister, never the boy's sister."

"You mean to wed Joffrey with Cassana?" Cersei deduced, disgust evident in her tone.

"Margaery Tyrell is who I want tied to our family, as well as Jon Stark. It will tie the realms together once and for all and help the Crown's coffers be more self-sufficient."

"The Crowns' coffers are more than capable -"

"For now, they are, thanks to me. But I am not eternal, Cersei. Nor can we count on the Iron Bank because of the dragon bitch. We have to secure your child's rule. Marriages as much as wars are what secure rule is made of."

"First, you want my son to leave his home to foster, and now, this."

"He can borrow a page out of Jon Stark's book and have people come to him. I can send the Mountain here if all you care about is to have your precious son with you for the time being. But one day he will have to learn how to rule properly, not like your incapable husband who relies too much on others to do his bidding, and I, out of all of his entourage, am better suited to teach him." Tywin stated, and while Cersei had a hard time agreeing to it, she knew her father made sense.

"But Casterly Rock –"

"Not now. I will talk to your husband about sending some of our own to foster with Joffrey. Think about what I said about Myrcella." Tywin declared, killing all protest in the bud and ending their conversation.

In the end, after many more arguments with both her father and her husband. Who too was set on selling Myrcella as a broodmare for his dream of being tied to his friend's son. Cersei agreed that Joffrey's fostering in Casterly Rock when he was older was the lesser of two evils.

Her firstborn blossomed as soon as his cousins joined him. Willem, Tyrek, and Lancel, all Lannisters, now formed Joffrey's entourage as well as Tion Frey, who was her aunt Genna's son. Only that it was so and that they lived in the West were the reasons why she accepted to have one of Walder Frey's breed join the lot.

Others had been considered by Robert. Young lords from the Stormlands or the Vale, none of them finding favors in Cersei nor Tywin's eyes. As for Stannis' son, she was certain it was Catelyn who pushed for his later fostering in the keep. Stannis made no effort to hide his displeasure at the request made by Robert, who wanted a Stag to counter the Lion's influence around his son. Cersei still wished for another blow between the Baratheon brothers so she wouldn't have to endure her Goodsister's presence more than she already had to.

Now she once again watched as her son and his followers gathered around Jaime, who clearly didn't have the patience to teach all of them. After a few minutes, her brother called the end of their training and pushed the young boys towards an awaiting Pycelle, who was in charge of every other aspect of their education. She sneered as Steffon scrambled to his mother, the Trout of Storm's End making no effort to hide her displeasure in her son being excluded once again.

For now, she had to swallow her annoyance and prepare herself for an afternoon with her father. Tywin was set to travel back to Casterly Rock, now that his task had been accomplished, as he disliked being far away from his keep and unable to watch over her uncouth brother.

Myrcella and Tommen played with each other, as usual, while Robert commented on the last Small Council. Cersei usually paid no mind to his rants, but something in his conversation with her father caught her attention this time.

"I knew it would not last. That a prickly lady like Lady Lynesse would not last long in the North!" Robert chuckled.

"Such a union shouldn't have been agreed upon in the first place," Tywin said placidly, his eyes on the plate of meat he was meticulously cutting. "The Tyrells wanted to ingratiate themselves in the North by any and all means possible."

"And look what good came of it. Their lady on the run, and her father begging us to help him find his honor back!" Robert laughed, making Cersei frown.

"Which Lady?"

"Lynesse Hightower. She wed Jorah Mormont a few years back, and now she has shamed her family by running away with a guard from their household."

"Mormont? The one you named champion in Lannisport instead of Jamie?" Cersei asked, not being one to forget a slight toward her family.

"What does that have to do with the story at hand?" Robert growled, visibly annoyed.

"Nothing. So she ran away. Interesting."

"What did the Starks do about the matter?" Tywin asked, his eyes still on his plate.

"They tried searching for her, to no avail apparently," Robert answered. "Wherever she is now, we know she didn't go back to the Reach."

"Probably because she fears being sent back North. First the Targaryen loyalists, now a lady. Benjen Stark seems to be surrounded by brutes incapable of executing a simple task." Tywin chuckled snarkily.

Cersei smirked in turn, knowing what another blunder from the North would mean to the West and her father. None of them had forgotten the humiliation regarding their defeat of the Ironborn. Nor that at the tourney celebrating their victory. Robert may have pined for Jon Stark to come to King's Landing, but the young lord and his family were heavily disliked by Cersei and hers.

Benjen Stark did not do his cause any favor with Robert when he had accepted Loras Tyrell's fostering in Winterfell. Nor had his naming of his children found favor with the King, who was now famed for his reactions to name slights thanks to both Stannis and herself.

"He has two boys and not one is named after Ned? Instead, he names the last one as himself. He then named his daughter after her wife's sister? What about Lyanna? What kind of fool did we name as regent for Ned's son? And to invite the bloody roses, these former dragon lovers, to Ned's keep! They truly have no respect for the dead! " Robert kept raging when in his cup.

"Will you send people to look after her?" Cersei questioned her husband.

"No. Let the Tyrells show their incompetence once more." Robert answered.

"You should at least send some knights after her, Your Grace. Even if you don't care about finding her, the Hightowers would see it as a show of support on your part and be indebted to you." her father pointed out. "This will further shame the Tyrells if you manage to do what they obviously can't."

"I haven't thought of that. You're right, as always." Robert conceded.

"I will send some of my own to look into the West, so the Riverlands, the Vale, and the Stormlands should be searched as well".

"I will give the order."

"And what will happen to Lady Lynesse once you find her?" Cersei inquired.

"We'll send her back to her father. She brought shame to his family by running away, so there should be consequences for her actions. He'll deal with her as he sees fit." Tywin simply answered.

Cersei could care less about the woman, but her father's cold voice sent shivers down her spine. She had no doubt what Tywin would do if the roles were reversed and he had been the one shamed by one of his children. The story of the crofter's daughter who tried to ingratiate herself into their family by marrying her monster of a brother now came to her mind.

What was her name? Does it matter? She may be dead now. She is as good as dead after what happened to her.

Cersei shook her head and her mind then went back to Lynesse Hightower. Part of her was envious of the woman. Jealous that she had managed to get away from her marriage. She hated Robert with a passion and the atmosphere of the Red Keep felt stifling. Not even the fact that she was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. That she had gotten almost all that she ever wanted in life. Was enough to allow her to feel any true joy in all she'd gained throughout the years. Especially, as her wishes and opinions were never valued by her husband or her legacy-obsessed father.

Rhaegar would have listened to me. If Lyanna Starks hadn't put her dirty paws on him, I would have been the one to drive him away from his Dornish wife, he would still be alive and we would have been happy.

This was not meant to be. Rhaegar was no more and Cersei had to make do with what she had, and with bedding his murderer from time to time. Thankfully she had Jaime to make her forget about her misfortune, and judging by how jumbled her thoughts were that night, she would have great need of him in the days to come.

As for Lynesse Higtower, why would she care for the woman? Instead, she would pray for her to die before she got caught. For if the lady's father was as intransigeant as Cersei's, death would be sweeter than the fate that would befall her should she be found.

No, Cersei cared not for Lynesse Hightower, other than the root of the idea of a woman running away from her life in the North and the fact that her father and husband wished to send her precious daughter there had taken hold. The beginnings of a plan formed that gave her a way to deny her husband something he truly wished for. Cersei smiled at the thought of the pleasure it would bring her to do so.

Water Gardens 293 AC.

Doran Martell.

His spies had spread through as much of the Seven Kingdoms as they could over the past few years. Doran now received reports on each of the major players of the Great Game as he possibly could. Some of those reports were less than they could be, however. With the North being key among them. Thus far he'd gotten no one close to Winterfell itself and while he had some people in White Harbor, they weren't as close to the Merman as he'd have wished.

When it came to the Stag, Falcon, and the Lion, things were much better. Doran had people in Lannisport and in Casterly Rock. He had spies in King's Landing, right in the heart of the Red Keep, and in the Eyrie, as well as Storm's End. Though it took some time for word to reach him of things of interest, reach him they did and soon enough he'd put a system in place where it would reach him even more quickly.

In Highgarden, it was a little harder. The Queen of Thorns kept her own counsel and few were privy to her thoughts or moves. That she seemed to be fostering a closer relationship with the North was somewhat intriguing and almost made Doran seek to do the same. Only for thoughts of the She-Wolf to give him reason enough not to. Not even through Ashara Dayne would he seek to get too close to the Wolves as he found he hated them almost as much as he did those truly responsible for the loss of his sister and her children.

'Had it not been for Lyanna Stark.'

It was a refrain that he knew Oberyn shared. A curse that at times would leave his lips when he thought back to the Tourney of Harrenhal. The day the smiles had died as people had named it and in his own case, had been proved very much true. Doran had found little to smile about since that day. All his hopes, dreams, and expectations for the future all having seemingly ended in a moment of madness. An errant husband's crowning of a woman who was not his wife, led to a war and losses that had been far too costly.

Sitting at his desk in his solar. The sound of children playing in the pools of the Water Gardens coming in through the open window. Doran pondered much on his next moves. Ashara Dayne had come to him with a proposal that made some sense and yet was one he wished not to consider. A match between the heir of Starfall and one of Oberyn's daughters was something he knew his brother would oppose vigorously. Yet, after reading his reports and seeing how things were shaping up throughout the realm, it was one that Doran was now giving more weight to.

Taking a quill, dipping it into the ink, and writing it down on the parchment, Doran found himself naming the best and most advantageous matches both in the Realm and in Dorne itself. All the while, he tried not to think of the match he'd thought would see his blood on the Iron Throne. Or the one that had been made for love that had then seen that blood spilled instead. It was not something he was easily able to do and so after a while, he stopped and decided to take his luncheon.

"My brother is still here?" he asked Areo. The giant Norvosi guard shook his head much to Doran's disappointment.

It took him some time to remember the conversation he'd had with Oberyn. His brother had traveled back to Sunspear to speak with their man in Essos. A former sellsword companion of Oberyn's from his time in the Second Sons, whom his brother had paid to keep watch over the dragons. Doran now found himself more than keen for Oberyn to return so they could speak on important matters, rather than the non-important more pleasant ones that he'd sought him out for.

By the time night fell, Doran was ready for his bed. His eyes were tired after a long day's reading. The tingling in his legs had gotten worse these past few weeks and not even the Maester's draughts offered him much relief from their annoyances and pains. Added to the fact that he liked not where the Realm was headed or where it may head, it led to a much-disturbed sleep. Doran, waking much earlier than he hoped for and far less rested.

"Where is my brother?" the angered voice said from somewhere outside his room, Doran was in the middle of being helped to dress when he heard it.

The sight of Oberyn pushing aside Areo as he made his way to where Doran stood, was a worrying one. Seeing the angered look on his brother's face, soon had Doran waving away his Leal guard's concerns and telling his servants to leave the room. Oberyn then waved a letter in his hand which Doran almost grabbed from him.

"They've done it again, brother."

"Shamed our family once more."

"This cannot stand."

"This will not stand."

As Doran tried to read the letter to see what had gotten Oberyn so annoyed, his brother ranted and raved. Looking to the parchment and then to his brother, Doran held up his hand and that alone was somehow enough to quieten Oberyn for now, allowing Doran to truly read the letter's contents.

Daras.

Prince Viserys has run away from home. Angered words were spoken between him and his mother regarding his bride and the prince's refusal to be wed. Await further orders and have sought out men to help find the prince whose whereabouts remain unknown.

Alayn.

There had been times when his rage had burned like an inferno. When his calmness and composure gave away to his fury. Hearing what Rhaegar had done after winning the joust. Learning of the death of his uncle. The moment he'd heard what had truly been done to Elia and her children. All of these were now swept aside by the contents of the letter he'd just read.

For the first time that he could ever remember, it had been Oberyn who'd been the one of them with the clearest head. His brother played the role of the brother who planned and plotted while he now played that of the brother who was wrathful and full of ire. Doran was almost able to laugh about it later that night when they spoke to each other about what it was they should now do. Almost.

"They die, Oberyn, all of them," Doran said as the night reached its darkest point.

"The children?"

"Them too. Rhaella, her sons, and her daughter, die…But only when we have the throne, Oberyn, only when the realm is ours."

"How? There's to be no wedding. Not now that Viserys has run off."

"She has another son does she not?" Doran said and Oberyn nodded.

"You wish me to make the deal?" Oberyn asked and Doran shook his head. "Brother?"

For a few moments, there was silence, Doran wondering if now was truly the time and knowing that there would never be a better one.

"I wish you to travel to Starfall and offer a betrothal, Oberyn."

"You cannot…"

"It must be done, Elia and Ned Dayne, I doubt the Dayne's will accept one of the older girls and they are of age, are they not?"

"You wish me to give up my daughter to traitors." Oberyn snarled.

"As I will mine own," Doran said in reply. Though whether or not breaking a betrothal would be considered treason by anyone other than him, he knew or cared not. "We must be snakes, brother. For only then can we feast on lesser beasts."

"And the Dragons?"

"Send them Stark's whore to make the deal. Let that be the cost of a wedding with House Martell for her nephew. A prince for a prince, Oberyn, make it clear I'll accept nothing less."

"And should they refuse?"

"Then make it clear that not only will they lose Dorne's support, but they may force us to offer our spears to those who'll more gratefully accept them."

That it didn't lead to the argument that it once may have, only showed the depths of Oberyn's anger at the fact that yet another Prince of House Targaryen had decided to shame their family. While they'd not now nor ever side with the Stag or the Falcon, and certainly not with the Lion, the threat alone was good enough.

Still, as he went to his bed that night, Doran for once dreamed not of the end of those whom he blamed for all he lost. Instead, he dreamt of the deaths of those he now blamed just as truly and who, in truth, he now believed were behind the doors where he should have always laid the blame.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: We jump forward as Jon travels to the Wall and meets with Aemon. Loras readies to say his goodbyes to Winterfell and two people in particular. In Essos, We check in with Viserys and see what he's been up to before taking a look at Asher Forrester's new role. While the Sealord prepares his son for the future and makes plans of his own. A tourney to celebrate a wedding is announced and we take a look through the eyes of two girls who both wish to be queen, as Cassana Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell make their own plans.

For those following my other fics, Dragonverse and Purple Deception are next.

Guest: True he is, but not only did Jaime only serve Rhaegar briefly, in his conversation with Jon he pretty much is so focussed on striking a mark against Ned Stark, that IMO he never looks past the superficial in regards to Jon. Barristan, served Rhaegar pretty much from when he was born. He watched the prince grow up, Jaime is only made a Kingsguard during the Tourney of Harrenhal, and as far as we know, he was in Casterly Rock before then and not King's Landing. So if Jaime is raised to the KG in 281, during the Tourney and we know that Rhaegar/Lyanna are off god's knows where in 282, it doesn't give Jaime much time to memorise Rhaegar's face. Again, Barristan, however, certainly would have and we even get the story he tells Dany about Rhaegar playing his music in the streets and Barristan serving as his guard, to further expand upon this.

So for me, Jaime would see it in Jon, only when it's actually brought up. Like later on when the truth outed, I'd imagine Jaime would be like, yes, you look like him. Whereas with Barristan, I think he'd see it immediately. No matter what it's still very strange that the LC of the KG doesn't travel when the entirety of the royal family does, that's just odd.

Yenerys: Depends on your definition of bad guys. Are they going to be against Jon, probably, against the Targs, probably. But they feel in the right of it, so does that make them bad guys or simply antagonists.

Rhatch: We have some more Dom/Loras stuff coming up over the next few chapters so we'll see. On Viserys, in some ways yes he has and will mess things up, in others, he's forced Rhaella to take a good hard look at herself and he's happier for it. Ashara puts Jon first, whereas Rhaella is still putting revenge first, in time they'll both be more on the same page, as too will Jon.

MrKlotho: Rhaella to me is out of the shadow of her mad husband and in a position of power, something she'll not give up easily. Her focus is on vengeance and she's missing a little of the nuances of things, but they're being shown to her now.

Dunk: We wanted to do a little more with the Reeds here, and to have not just Howland be important, but his wife, daughter and eventually his son too. As for Viserys, between him and Maekar, you really don't want either as enemies. That's it entirely with Margaery, she's attracted to Jon, can see the positives but there are two big negatives, the North and the fact that he took Loras from her, something she's not forgiven him for. We deliberately waited to do a pov of her, next chapter is the first, We wanted to go a different way with Mace, which we hope people will enjoy. As for Olenna, yes, she needs to set Marge straight soon.

Gandalf: With Dorne, I do think that's a huge problem with them in the books too. It never makes much sense to me that Oberyn holds back as long as he does. I mean, I can understand Doran not believing the North could win, but the moment Jaime Lannister is taken prisoner, the fact that Robb is beating Tywin, I don't know, it always struck me false that Oberyn wouldn't have reached out. Especially considering that the Mountain was ravaging the Riverlands, it just smacks of a plot point that was added later, which I feel Faegon sort of is too, Both don't add up under scrutiny.

Yeah, we wanted to bring the Direwolves in early. Viserys will have some fun adventures, as for the Targ support, one of the big things is whether or not there is a belief that they can win, something that here people believe, so yes, their support is larger than it seems.

VwChick: So very glad you liked it.

Irish Hermit: That's exactly what we were going for with Rhaella, she's so focussed, so driven with the need for revenge, that she's harming those around her and not addressing their feelings. Viserys actions will force her to take a good hard look at herself. With Dorne, I think yes if Viserys was to be king, they'd quite probably kill him off once they had an heir. All the Targs have been gifted something from their eggs, some of it magical. Dany has her dragon dreams, Maekar has, well you'll see in time. Even Viserys and Rhaella have been gifted, but it may take longer for them to realize it since they're older. Maekar though has a distinct focus.

That's exactly it, left to his own devices, Aemon would probably choose to be king. He's not a fool, he understands the need to protect his family and that Robert, Tywin and others are dangers to them. But, it's the idea of having no choice in so much of his life that causes him so much distress. It's not just the fact of being king, it's who he's to wed, the war he needs to wage, all of it. We've been trying to show him coming to terms with that and he does have family and close friends to help, but still, it's all on his very young shoulders and well, it'll take some events to force him to be who he needs to be.

So we have a distinct timeline for the hatching of the eggs and it will be before the canon timeline of events kicks of, so before 298. Won't say further than that. Ghost will be a huge thing for Aemon here, as he was for Jon Snow. We are set on Jon/Marge, and yes I understand how she's come across and it's been deliberate on our parts, as has not showing her pov (that's up next chapter) all I'll say is trust us we have a plan.

Ariadne: I get that and we hope that the next few chapters will paint her in a somewhat different light, but I can understand that she's not been likeable thus far. You're spot on about Myrcella, but well if Jon wasn't betrothed in time, Robert would make the match. The fact the girls are younger doesn't really count to be honest, other than it would mean no wedding could take place until 303, but if we got to 298 and Jon wasn't betrothed, I think Robert would announce it. It's who he is. Jon will be visiting Ashara soon enough.

Orthankg: so glad you liked it.

Creativo: Lo es en gran medida, pero hay una razón para ello.

Xan Merrick: Thank you my friend. She does yes, but there is a reason for her behaviour and her upcoming pov will show a different side of her.

SageofChaos: Your wish is my command.

LyarraAysanneBla: Very much so, but he thinks himself so very smart. Oh the North and the Starks very much dislike Marge, she'll have to go some way to win them over.