Aegon Targaryen…
Dragonstone…
It wasn't quite how I remembered it. Dragonstone, that is. It was no doubt as strong as ever – perhaps even stronger, but I had only taken a look at it from the sea. This was my first opportunity to see it from the skies. And what a magnificent castle it was. It would be difficult to siege, but those same strengths also made it difficult to supply unless you had dragons on your side. Breaking a blockade was easy when you could unleash fire from the heavens.
Although war may have been why I had come to Dragonstone again, I was not here to attack it. I was here to speak to its Queen.
Again.
Trapped two centuries in the past, and history was repeating itself.
But mayhaps this Queen would listen to reason…
Rhaegal's body rumbled beneath me as the green dragon looked this way and that, but I kept the silver dragon and his rider in my view. They were leading us down to a clearing behind the Keep, assumedly for purposes just like this. Arrax swooped down first, touching down gracefully as Rhaegal thundered to the ground beside him – the great green dragon's weight shaking the ground itself.
"Welcome to Dragonstone," Luke said as he slid off his dragon. "Come, my moth- The Queen will want to see us immediately. Your attire may be in a sorry state but the information we bring is too valuable to delay."
"Aye, perhaps so," I said, removing my gloves and outer coat to reveal the simple wool tunic beneath as I touched the ground myself. Then I turned to Rhaegal. "Play nice."
Rhaegal snorted and pushed his muzzle against my chest, pushing me back toward Luke as he curled up where he stood. He closed his eyes while twin plumes of smoke drifted out his nose as he lay on the grass.
"An even-tempered dragon… That is quite rare."
"Aye, he's a special one," I smirked slightly, throwing a glance over my shoulder toward the dragon as Luke and I made our way toward the Keep.
"To drive off Aemond and best Vhagar, he certainly would have to be," Luke said, looking over his shoulder as well – Arrax was trying to nudge closer to Rhaegal. Rhaegal opened an eye blearily and proceeded to close it again. Arrax shrieked indignantly. Rhaegal simply brushed the little dragon off with his tail. I grinned as Luke coughed into his hand, turning back to the path. A troop of men at arms in full Targaryen regalia had started pounding down the path with spears held at the ready – a Knight of the Kingsguard leading the charge.
"Prince Lucerys, welcome back to Dragonstone. Who is this?"
"Thank you, Ser Erryk. This is Jon. He saved my life." The Kings– Queensguard blinked and then looked me up and down with a careful eye.
"I reckon that's your dragon then?"
"Aye."
"Very well. I will see that… er, refreshments are brought for it and the Prince's. Does it have a preference?"
"Rhaegal is quite fond of auroch, ser. Lacking that, three boar should do him." The Queensguard nodded once.
"As you wish, ser. An auroch shall be brought for Rhaegal and a pair of goats for Arrax. Jerome, see to it."
"I am no knight."
"Oh? Hm, very well. Jerome, carry on."
"Yes, ser." One of the Targaryen men at arms said, bowing to the Prince and turning about-face to return to the Keep to relay the orders.
"My Prince, come along. You will need a change of attire. Your mother the Queen would be displeased if you should catch ill from from wet clothes. Baths are being drawn for you as we speak, and you, will have a change of clothes ready for you. Am I to assume you would like what you are wearing burned?" I opened my mouth to reply but Luke beat me to it.
"I… I needs must see my mother at once, Ser Erryk. It is most urgent."
"How so?"
"Aemond was at Storm's End. He almost killed me. Jon saved me from him, I truly owe him my life." Ser Erryk's eyes widened under his helmet as his jaw slackened slightly. He recovered quickly, his face turning to granite as he turned from the Prince to me.
"In that case, I am afraid your bath shall have to wait, ser. You may not have felt a sword at your shoulder but you acted as a true Knight. The Queen will want to hear of what befell the Prince Lucerys, and your role in saving him, immediately."
"I agree. By your lead." Ser Erryk nodded, turning around and setting a brisk pace. I kept up easily as Luke remained by my side. We entered the Keep to the sights of lords and ladies milling about, servants darting to and fro, guards standing sentinel, and the colors and symbols of House Targaryen spread liberally throughout the halls. The Targaryens certainly didn't want you to mistake whose keep this was.
"The Prince Lucerys Velaryon! Heir to Driftmark and the Driftwood Throne!" Ser Erryk called as he stepped onto a landing before us. Luke glanced back at me and nodded as we stepped out behind the Queensguard Knight.
"My son, welcome home." The Queen, a woman of thirty-some name-days and just as striking as any other Valyrian, said as she stood behind the painted table. "And who is your companion?"
"My Queen," Luke said, gesturing for me to step forward. I didn't but inclined my head toward the Queen. Her Valyrian silver eyebrow arched as she took her measure of me. "This is Jon, rider of the dragon Rhaegal. I owe him my life." There was a chorus of gasps before the hall went silent around us. Then Rhaenyra strode forward and took her son in her arms before looking at me.
"What happened?" The Queen asked. I took a breath to answer, but thankfully, Luke beat me to it. He pushed away from his mother gently, looking at her
"I did as you commanded, Your Grace. I made for Storm's End with your message in hand, but Prince Aemond and his dragon, Vhagar, arrived before I. He had succeeded in gaining House Baratheon's support for the Usurper by offering his hand to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters. Lord Borros then asked which of his daughters I would marry. He reacted… poorly when I informed him I was already betrothed. The Lord Borros also…" Luke glanced at the floor and swallowed thickly before he looked back at his mother. "He said that he is not a dog to come when whistled up. He then sent me away. Before I could leave the audience chamber to return to Arrax, Aemond demanded I put out my eye – that he planned to make a gift of it to his mother. Lord Baratheon stopped him. He said that I came as an envoy, that he would not have bloodshed in his hall.
"Lord Baratheon had me escorted to Arrax by his guards, but when I returned to the courtyard, Vhagar had already gone." I frowned. If Luke left before Aemond, then how did Aemond get to Vhagar before Luke got to Arrax? I suppose it mattered little. Castles like Storm's End always had a myriad of passages that would take you anywhere you wanted if you knew where to look. "I took wing with Arrax and the chase began. Shipbreaker Bay and the stormlords are well-named, Your Grace. The tempest we had to fight through nearly saw us killed. Arrax is quick, yes, but in winds like the ones we were facing? Vhagar had the advantage. She and Aemond chased me, with him screaming all the way that I owed a debt. We flew into a canyon, where I had hoped to lose Vhagar in the rocks and rain… Arrax… Arrax decided that was not near enough. He let loose fire on Vhagar, and – in her rage – Aemond lost control of Vhagar.
"I made it to open air, clear skies…" Luke's voice broke for a beat as he took a moment to recollect himself. "I thought I was dead. Vhagar's jaws were open and mere feet from me and Arrax. Vhagar was ready to snatch Arrax from the sky… And me with him. But then Rhaegal and Jon were there. Rhaegal crashed against Vhagar, throwing her from her course and pulling me from death's jaws. Arrax flew into the clouds as Rhaegal and Vhagar fought. Jon drove Aemond away."
"You and your dragon not only fought Vhagar, but you triumphed over them?" The Queen asked sharply.
"Aye." She nodded, and I did in return. Her face was cold, but her eyes…
"You saved my son. I am in your debt. If there is a boon you wish: name it, and it shall be yours."
"You are very kind, your Grace."
"You have no requests then?"
"No, your Grace, not at this time."
"Then, at such time you do, name it, and it shall be granted to you. You have saved my son; I owe you a debt beyond words. But I am afraid that just by that action, you will be hunted by the Greens until you are no longer a threat to them. You defeated their fiercest dragon, the largest dragon in the world. My cause is now your cause, Jon… Hm, have you no family name?"
"I do."
"Then to which house do you belong?"
"Your Grace, that is… Sensitive," I said cautiously, glancing around the room. I locked eyes with a slim Targaryen with a sword and dagger belted to his hip, a bear of a man with silver hair leaning on a cane for support, and the woman standing beside him in armor with the silver hair of the Valyrians.
"Ah, very well. Clear the room. Daemon, Lucerys, remain. I would hear your story, Jon."
"As you wish." I nodded once as the Lords and Ladies walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the Queen, the Prince, and Daemon – the slim man I had first locked eyes with.
"Well, well…" Daemon said when the room had cleared. "You're quite the interesting fellow, now, aren't you? I think I would have heard of a dragon rider off galavanting somewhere in the world. You've hidden yourself very well."
"I haven't been hiding."
"My apologies," the Queen said, giving Daemon a sharp look. "This is my husband, Prince Daemon Targaryen."
"Thank you. Prince Daemon, like I said, I haven't been hiding."
"I'm sure. So, if you've not been hiding, then where have you been?" I hesitated for a beat but took in a breath all the same.
"You would not believe me if I told you. I rather do not believe it myself."
"I will be the judge of that. What is your story, ser?"
"I am no knight, your Grace."
"Aye, the North doesn't keep to the Seven, do they?"
"And House Targaryen does?" I shot back. Daemon's lips curled up in a smile as the Queen pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I do not recall house Targaryen wedding into any houses of the North."
"But he is a Stark, your Grace. That much is obvious," Daemon said.
"Aye, I do have eyes, husband. Tell me, can you think of any of our line who have wed into house Stark?"
"No," Daemon said.
"And you would be right. For now, at least."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means it hasn't happened, at least not yet," I said. The Queen and the Princes all turned and looked at me with raised eyebrows. "And it will not happen, not for another hundred and a half years."
"What in the Seven Hells are you–"
"This war would have seen one of your sons, Your Grace, to Winterfell. Cregan Stark pledged himself to your house. He became the Hand of the King, and when Aegon the Second died, he took King's Landing. The Hour of the Wolf is still studied by the Citadel. Cregan was hand for three days, he stayed long enough to see the Kingdoms reunited and stabilized before returning to Winterfell. There was an agreement laid after: a daughter of House Stark would marry a son of House Targaryen. My mother's name was Lyanna Stark, my father's Rhaegar Targaryen. First born son of Aerys, second of his name, king of the Seven Kingdoms. The Mad King."
"There has been no Aerys Targaryen to sit the Iron Throne, much less two of them." Daemon sneered.
"No, not yet."
"Are you saying you come from the future?"
"Aye… I died some three hundred and fifty years after Aegon's Conquest, under a heart tree deep in the wastes of Always Winter. Far beyond the Wall. How far? I do not know. But when I came awake, I was still there – and Rhaegal was with me, which was strange as Rhaegal was killed while I was still little more than a boy. He and I were reunited, then we flew. We were on wing for hours before we caught sight of the northernmost Frostfangs. Then more hours of flying found us at the Wall." The Queen's eyes widened as Daemon rolled his eyes and turned to the fire.
"You're mad. Stark raving mad."
"If you come from the place where you say you do," Rhaenyra said before Daemon could get another word in, cutting her eyes to her husband before turning back to me as Luke just looked confused, "then how does this war end?"
"Your Grace-"
"Tell me!" she snapped, staring at me with something in her eyes I could not recognize. I hesitated but nodded.
"You lost but the Blacks won."
"How?"
"I've already told you how it ended, but Cregan only took control because no one else was there to do so. House Targaryen was almost torn out root and stem. But it wasn't. See, the war started with the murder of Lucerys Velaryon," my eyes met Luke's as the color drained from his face. "Forgive me, the details of most of it are… Hazy, at best. Cregan's story was one I was told to learn by heart, and I've carried it with me always. The rest I haven't thought on in years… But I remember you, Prince Daemon, died at the Gods' Eye, killing Vhagar and driving your sword through Aemond's blind eye. I also know that all of House Targaryen's dragons die with Aegon the Dragonbane."
"Who is Aegon Dragonbane?"
"Aegon III. Son of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen." Rhaenyra's eyes widened as she looked at Luke in horror.
"What- what of my other sons?"
"I do not know what happened to…"
"Jace. The Prince Jacaerys."
"I do not know what happened to him, but he died shortly after his brother after securing house Stark for the Blacks. It was his bond with Cregan that saw the Lord Stark duty bound to set the realm to right."
"What of the Arryns?"
"I do not know, your Grace, forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive… What of Joffery? Viserys?"
"Viserys lived. He became Viserys II after Aegon III passed with no heirs. Joffery…" I shook my head sadly as tears streaked down Rhaenyra's face.
"What of me?"
"You… Your brother fed you to Sunfyre."
"You expect us to believe–"
"Daemon!" Rhaenyra snapped, turning to face me. Her eyes were bloodshot, with tears brimming in them, but her face was cut from Valyrian Steel. "You were in the far north. Do you know…" My eyes widened as she trailed off, my jaw falling slack as I tried to come up with a response. "What is the Darkness to the far North?"
"What do you know?" My voice was hard as iron as I locked eyes with the Queen.
"I believe I asked you first."
"As you wish. To understand why I was in the far North, you must understand my story. I was raised Jon Snow, son of Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. A bastard. But it was naught but a farce my Uncle cooked up to save my life from the King. In truth, I am the trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. My name is Aegon Targaryen."
"Your father died; would that not make you King?" Luke asked, knitting his eyebrows.
"When I was born, Robert Baratheon had defeated Rhaegar at the battle of the Trident. He was betrothed to my mother, but Lyanna eloped with Rhaegar. No one knew except my father and one of his bannermen, Howland Reed. They were there as my mother drew her last breath and it was only then they discovered the truth.
"Before he took the throne, King Robert demanded the death of every Targaryen… Well, those who weren't already dead by then that is. I had not even been born when Lord Tywin Lannister – King Aerys' former hand – sacked the city. The Red Keep was not near as safe as King Scab thought it was as Jaime Lannister, one of his own Kingsguard and son of Tywin, stabbed the Mad King in the back. It is my understanding that he did not do so on his father's orders but because Aerys had placed caches of wildfyre beneath the city. His intention was to let the city burn before letting Tywin take it. Jaime had to make a decision, betray his king or betray his oaths as a Knight. He killed the King and lived with the sobriquet Kingslayer until his death.
"Meanwhile, Gregor Clegane dashed my elder brother's head against a wall. Our sister, a girl of four namedays, was stabbed half a hundred times after being ripped from beneath her father's bed, where she had hidden from Lord Lannister's beasts. Their mother – Princess Elia of House Martell – was raped while Kingsblood was still dripping from Clegane's hands. Then the Mountain killed her too. With our father dead and our Grandfather murdered, the boy would have been Aegon VI by all the laws of men. Therefore, I would have been Aegon VII. But Robert took the Crown instead and nearly ruined the realm. And I? I never knew my claim. Not until it was too late, far too late.
"When I was four and ten, I went to the Wall. I thought it was the only place a Bastard could have some bit of honor, oh how wrong I was… I joined the Black Brothers and eventually became the Lord Commander's steward. Lord Commander Mormont brought me on his great ranging beyond the Wall. He sent me with the Halfhand – forgive me, Qhorin Halfhand, that is. I was told he was a baseborn Miller's son; no family name, no money, and not even the mill after it burned. But he earned the name Halfhand when he lost a half hand of fingers to a wildling. Killed that Wildling and built himself a legend killing more. In the end, I still think they hated him more than even I… He was the commander of East Watch by the Sea until we ranged North. It was on his orders that I did what came next.
"The Lord Commander's orders were for us to wean out what information we could on Mance Rayder's (the King Beyond the Wall at the time) army by any means possible. The Halfhand ordered his own death, and mine was the hand that delivered the blow. It was the best way for me to join the Free Folks. Traitor crows aren't common but it's better than death. You kill your superior, and they know you're already a dead man breathing. For the wildlings? That's the most loyal man you can find. Deserters are traitors, and traitors are only bound for Lord Stark's sword or a noose. I was a special case as I was, in fact, following my orders. For months I traveled as a Wildling myself, learning from them, befriending them… And, in the end, I betrayed them. I returned to the Wall to warn the acting Lord Commander of what I had learned and was accepted back to the Watch. A steward once again. Then they named me Lord Commander. I allowed the Wildlings south of the Wall–"
"Why in the name of all the gods would you do that?!" Daemon snapped.
"To save them from the true enemy."
"And who is the true enemy? My enemy is the Usurper who stole my wife's throne!"
"The true enemy is Death. It is Darkness. It is Winter," I said quietly. Rhaenyra's jaw worked slowly while the thought sank in. "The Others come, your Grace. The White Walkers. In less than two hundred years, they will march on the Wall."
"Is… Is the realm united when they do?"
"No." Rhaenyra closed her eyes and shook her head sadly as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It had already torn itself apart."
"Rhaenyra, surely you can't believe this– This Northern fairy tale!?"
"I can, I am." The Queen snapped to her husband, whirling around to glare him down. He snarled slightly before turning back to the fire. "Aegon, Lucerys, listen to me carefully. I will tell Jacaerys this when he returns but right now it is of the utmost dire importance you both know. Before I was announced as his heir, my father told me that Aegon the Conqueror had a dream-"
"Oh for the gods sake–"
"Daemon!" Rhaenyra snapped again as Daemon shook his head and returned to staring at the fire. "He dreamed of an everlasting Winter, a terrible one my father said, gusting out of the Far North. Whatever was in those winds was Darkness, darkness that would destroy the world of men."
"Aye, I know they would," I muttered, placing my hand on Longclaw's pommel absently.
"You've seen this darkness?"
"And the hell he will unleash, would he have his way."
"The Wall's held them back since time immemorial," Daemon sniffed, "even if I should believe what you say is true."
"Have you ever been to the Wall, my Prince?"
"No. It's too cold for a dragon there."
"Aye, on that we agree… When the Night King came it was through the Wall. We'd made a mistake early in the war. We had three dragons, the first since the Dance," I winced slightly as Rhaenyra shook her head and glanced at her son. "We lost one. The Night King threw a spear and took a bloody dragon from the sky. Then he resurrected it."
"By the Gods… And you still defeated him?"
"We did."
"Then dragons are our greatest weakness."
"Aye… but dragons are the only thing that may yet save us. Your Grace, when the Long Night came, we lost. Aye, mayhaps we killed the Night King and his army, and perhaps we will do it again, but we were doomed. The time I come from had seen three wars in ten years. The War of Five Kings, the War for the Dawn, and the last War for the Iron Throne."
"The last war for the Iron Throne?"
"Aye, it was forged in Dragonfire, your Grace, and it was unmade by it. Drogon, Rhaegal's brother, destroyed it."
"Now, you see, what I don't understand," Daemon said as he turned around, his eyes blazing as he glared at me, "is that if you were Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, how are you free of your vows? They follow you 'til death, yes?" I hesitated but nodded.
"Aye, they did, and I have indeed died. Twice now, actually. And in the end, there was no more Wall for the Night's Watch to patrol. The Night King brought it down."
"Now you're having us on." Daemon growled, gripping the hilt of his sword with white knuckles. I paused, touching my chest gingerly.
"By your leave, your Grace, I do have proof." The Queen nodded and I sucked in a breath. I paused as I reached for the hem of my tunic before nodding to myself and lifting it over my head. My eyes found Daemon's face as he looked at the five scars littering my chest. Rhaegal bore the marks of his death, and I had mine.
"Gods be good…" She whispered, staring at the marks in horror. She reached out, touching one of them and snatching her hand away as if she had been burnt. "Who did this?"
"Men I called my brothers. They were angry I let the Free Folks through the Wall… They killed me for it."
"How… How did you…?"
"A red priestess of R'hollor. She worked her magic and brought me back… Some days I wished she hadn't. Especially when the Walkers came for us. I executed the men who had murdered me and turned over the mantle of the Lord Commander. My watch had ended. A day later, my sister– sorry, cousin, Sansa Stark– came to Castle Black to find me. The Boltons, supported by the Lannisters – my apologies, your Grace, but that is another, much longer story – had taken Winterfell and the North. We took it back. The Lords of the North named me King in the North after we had retaken Winterfell. They, as well as I, thought I was only Ned Stark's last living son."
"The King in the North…" Rhaenyra huffed a breath through her nose as I pulled my tunic back on. "I must say, it is quite an impressive tale."
"But one that is still not finished."
"Yes, you haven't yet told us how you got your dragon," Daemon said.
"Daenerys Targaryen… She was in a position similar to the one you find yourself in now, your Grace. A Targaryen claimant to the Iron Throne and a woman. She based her claim on her father being King. But, unlike your father, Aerys was rightfully overthrown."
"Rightfully?"
"Aye, he killed my grandfather and uncle – the Lord and his heir to Winterfell – in open court. He burned my grandfather alive for the crime of defending his son, and my uncle strangled for demanding the return of his kidnapped sister." Rhaenyra turned ashen pale even as Daemon's face became stony. Luke, though, turned green.
"What kind of monster was he?" The boy asked quietly.
"One of the worst. A mad one. King Scab, they called him, because of the cuts he received sitting the Iron Throne… But he was a Targaryen and he was King. Robert Baratheon claimed the throne by right of conquest, aye, but he was also the Grandson of Rhaelle Targaryen – Aerys' aunt."
"But by all the rights of gods and men, the Throne was yours."
"Aye… The Throne was mine, but I didn't want it. I did not want to sit the Iron Throne. It was Dany's dream, not mine."
"Then why did you not wed her and rule together? It would have strengthened her claim even if she had remained unaware of your heritage. You were King–"
"Aye. I've had many years alone to think on the what ifs, your Grace, you need not spell them out to me." I said quietly, hanging my head as the Queen reached out to cup my chin. She pulled my face up, not ungently, and forced me to look at her.
"You had a hard life, Aegon," she said quietly, putting her hand on my cheek. "I thank you for what you have done, saving my son's life, and I thank you for the tales you have told." Her hand fell away as she smiled at me gently. "I have much to think on. Forgive me, I would like to speak to my son and husband in private. Quarters are being prepared for you, one of the servants will lead you to them. There will be fresh clothes and a bath ready for you."
"Thank you, your Grace… Does this mean–" She held up her hand, forestalling my question.
"Aegon's dream came to pass in your time, the Walkers are content to wait it seems – this gives us time to prepare. But first, we needs must unite the realm," she said. I nodded slowly as the Queen turned to her son and husband. "If you wish, you may join us for supper this evening. However, it may be for the best that you carry on as Jon Snow until we can find a suitable story for you."
"I agree, your Grace. Though, it would not be proper for a bastard to join the Queen for supper."
"No, but most in the realm also think it's improper for a Queen to sit the Iron Throne. You will join us tonight, Aegon, I insist."
"As you wish, your Grace."
"Ser Jon, rider of Rhaegal," the Kingsguard at the door announced my entry.
"Thank you, Ser Erryk, but you know I'm no knight."
"Something we will see changed, should you allow it."
"Her Grace is very kind," I said with a bow. "Prince Lucerys, Prince Daemon, it is good to see you here. As it is good to see you, your Grace."
"Master Jon, this is my family," the Queen said, smiling slightly at the group seated at the table. The Lord and Lady I'd seen at the Painted Table nodded in turn as I met each of their eyes. "The Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, Master of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides, and his wife the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Their granddaughters, my stepdaughters, the ladies Baela and Rhaena Targaryen. My sons, that you do not know, Joffrey Velayron, Aegon Targaryen, and Viserys Targaryen."
"My Princes, Princess, my Lord, and Ladies, good evening."
"Master Jon, it is good to meet you officially," Lord Velaryon said, standing with some difficulty. "I find that I am in your debt. You saved my heir."
"I did what any would do, my Lord."
"Hah!" The big man laughed. "You believe any would have had the balls to fight Vhagar? And not only fight that monster but win? I think not. Even if the Queen has already rewarded you richly, I offer you a strong keep with good lands on Driftmark. Servants to call your own, and anything you wish, master Jon."
"My Lord–"
"I am already seeing to the preparations, if you turn this down I would take it as the highest insult." The man said, cocking an eyebrow at me. I nodded.
"I thank you, my Lord. Though I am unsure if I will be able to see this hall in a timely manner, I will remember your kindness." Lord Corlys smiled broadly, and even Queen Rhaenyra didn't look displeased by the idea.
"It seems you're making quite the life for yourself, Jon." Luke grinned, elbowing me lightly as I sat beside him. "I think I'll enjoy having you as a bannerman."
"I doubt it," I smirked back as Luke rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Oh!" Turning to the lady at his right, he said, "Jon, this is my betrothed, the Lady Rhaena Targaryen."
"My lady, the pleasure is mine."
"Luke speaks highly of you, Master Jon. I thank you for what you did." I nodded in return before letting my eyes drift over the table that had settled into a somewhat uneasy silence.
"Well," Rhaenyra said, leaning forward over the table, "I for one, do apologize, my Lord, that we do not have anything you would likely be familiar with. What do you eat in the North anyway? I am afraid it is not often a topic of conversation and there are so few Northmen at court to ask." I smiled slightly, thinking back to better days, better times at Winterfell.
"The North is a simple place, your Grace. I could honestly not identify half of what sits on the table tonight… But, a pig is a pig, and a bull is a bull. Though, I once knew a man who could make the most wonderful black pudding…"