Winterfell 295 AC.
Ned.
Sansa had left only days earlier and yet already around the keep she was missed. Surprisingly by none more so than by Arya, though not for the reasons one may think. With Sansa gone it meant that Arya had become the focus of Septa Mordane's teachings and Ned chuckled when he saw his wild little wolf roll her eyes once they finished breaking their fast. Cat too missed their daughter and had thrown herself somewhat into looking after Arya, though unlike with the Septa this was something his daughter appreciated far more.
While his wife would never ignore or willfully treat one of his children better than the others, it was clear she favored their eldest daughter and second son just a bit more. Rickon being the babe got perhaps the most attention but there was no doubt that Cat's face warmed even more when she looked to Bran, or when Sansa sang or showed off her embroidery. Robb spent a lot of time with him, with his foster brothers and learning how to be the lord he'd be one day, and so he and Cat would often go days without having time to speak truly to each other.
Not that she loved him less, but it just brought her closer to Bran than to their oldest. As he strolled from the Godswood, Ned looked to see Cat speaking to Bran. Their second son had no doubt been caught climbing once more and Cat was both chiding and smiling with him about it. He looked to see Ser Rodrik put Robb and Daryn Hornwood through their paces, Torrhen Karstark waiting anxiously for his turn while Theon stood by alone and disgruntled.
"My lord." Jory said walking his way and Ned looked to see the purposeful steps the captain of his guard was taking.
"Jory?"
"Riders my lord, the Magister that Lord Wyman told us about, he'll arrive within the next few hours."
"Very good, see the guard is put out, I'll ready my family."
He called for Cat and told her and then watched as she hurried Robb and Bran inside. Their wards following after them while Theon slinked away somewhere. Ned made his own way into the keep, quickly changing into better clothing and within two hours he was lined up with his family to welcome a man who'd done so much for the North. That he'd done so because of Jon did raise some concerns and he'd been keen to speak to Illyrio Mopatis to find out why he cared so much for his nephew.
The sleigh he arrived in was Wyman's own and the sheer number of men he brought with him was staggering. As for the man himself, he had thought Wyman the fattest man he'd ever seen, it seems Illyrio may very well be even bigger.
"Lord Stark." Illyrio said as he stood in front of him.
"Magister Illyrio, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, may I introduce you to my wife."
"Lady Stark, an honor, truly."
"My son and heir Robb."
"Lord Robb."
"My son, Brandon, and my daughter Arya." he said and the Magister bid them both hello and then looked at him oddly.
"I had thought there was more, Lord Stark, a younger son and an older daughter, Sansa, I believe Lord Wyman said her name was?"
"My son is resting, Magister and my daughter has traveled to stay with our family in the Vale." Cat said and the magister smiled and nodded.
"Of course my lady."
Illyrio was shown to his rooms, the best that Winterfell had to offer and then that night they held a large feast for him. Ned was glad he'd insisted on the very best dishes the North had to offer and thankful to Wyman for letting him know just how much the man enjoyed his food. Other than watching him gorge himself and that being enough to put Ned off his own, Illyrio was actually one of the most gracious guests he'd ever had in Winterfell.
The man was charming and fun, even Cat who had never really cared for Essos was listening enraptured as he told tales of the Sealord and the Princes of Pentos. When he spoke of slavery both he and his wife felt their disgust rise and yet the man said he didn't practice it himself, other than for appearance sake, something that none of them understood.
"My servants, receive fair wage Lord Stark, ask any and they'll tell you such. But other than Braavos, Essos is a slave economy, the culture, the people, the great cities expect it and so I put on a mummery and give them what they wish."
"You don't find it dishonorable to do so?" he asked and the man laughed.
"Far less than to be a slave-owner Lord Stark." Illyrio said and he nodded.
That the man didn't dance should have been clear and yet Cat offered, all the same. Illyrio making a jape at his own expense to say why he could not, or would not shame her such. By the time he made his way to his bed that night, he and Cat too had come to the conclusion that whatever outward appearance Illyrio may portray, he was in a way a lot like Wyman. He played up on how he looked and let people form their own opinions of him, then he worked within the confines of those flawed opinions.
"I think him a good man, Ned. Did you see those gifts he gave the children?" Cat said as she loosened her hair.
"Aye, damn expensive I'd wager." he said looking as his wife climbed into their bed.
"True, but each something that they'd appreciate, Ned. Be it Wyman, his own information, or someone else, the man knew what our children would like. Just like Wyman himself would when he came to visit, most lords just gift things that look good and not things that our children would enjoy."
He smiled at that and then all thoughts of the magister were forgotten as he and his wife soon became lost in each other's arms. Ned shutting the worries of the world out just as he always had once he felt her lips on his own. He woke early the next morning and while Cat dressed he made his way to break his fast. Hearing laughter coming from the Great Hall as he walked to it.
Once inside he saw the reason for it and it brought a smile to his face, Arya finding someway to amuse the Magister and the man laughing loudly as he looked to his daughter. Joining them he too was soon enjoying breaking his fast and once Cat had arrived and then later she and the children had left for their daily lesson, he and the Magister walked the grounds of Winterfell. Illyrio asked for a tour and seemed to feel drawn to the Godswood once Ned had mentioned it.
"The Weirwood, an impressive thing Lord Stark. I've seen the one in White Harbor and we stopped along the way to see another, but this, this is something else." Illyrio said his voice seeming as impressed as the words he was saying.
"It is, Magister." Ned agreed having always thought so.
"Illyrio."
"Then you must call me Ned." he said and the man smiled and nodded.
"I have no doubt you have questions, Ned, ask them and I'll answer any I can."
"Your help, Illyrio, the North appreciates it and I know my nephew will, but forgive me for saying it so bluntly, Why?" he asked and the magister laughed.
"I do so love the North, Lord Wyman too is blunt, I much appreciate it. Do you know that many years ago I met a young man, much younger than I, but an incredible young man. A man I had no idea was a prince and so thought him, just a trader from Lys." Illyrio said his voice tinged with sadness.
"Rhaegar?" he asked and Illyrio nodded.
"Rhaegar. We spoke, talked of many things, prophecy Lord Stark, the young man knew of the prophecy. Azor Ahai the promised prince, oh he thought it meant to fight off some great evil, and mayhap it does. But it means more than that, it means more than that." Illyrio said sadly "But that's a story for another time."
"So you met Rhaegar and now wish to support his son?" he asked and Illyrio looked off into the distance before he spoke.
"A few years later, I met another man from Westeros, a man who'd been sent to Volantis to find a bride for a prince, the man whose son now sit's the throne."
"Steffon Baratheon, you met Robert's father?" Ned said shocked.
"I and my younger sister Serra were visiting Volantis where Lord Steffon had been seeking a bride for that very same prince. We talked, we got along and Steffon and most especially Lady Cassana and Serra found common ground. My sister was a beauty you see, oh, I'm sure you of all people know what it's like to have a sister than men fall at the feet of, and Serra was one. Yet she cared not for things that most men would offer and I felt few were worthy of her."
Ned found himself thinking of Lyanna and indeed she was the same, a woman who could have any man, yet in the end, only wished for one.
"We spoke on a prince, how he was seeking a bride and how they'd found no one suitable among the Old Blood. Truth be told Ned, I humored them, for no man was good enough for Serra in my eyes. Yet the more we spoke, the more it became clear that the prince they meant was the young man that I'd been so impressed by. So we arranged to visit, to come and see for ourselves, Steffon and Cassana now both sure that they'd found the perfect bride. I even purchased a fool that had made them laugh for their second son who they said never did."
"But they died before they could bring the offer?" Ned said.
"Everyone dies Lord Stark. They, my sister, and soon enough Rhaegar himself. I wallowed in my grief, I'm sure as you did in your own. Then one day I received a message from the Red Priests, a message in my sister's words. The dragons must rise and you must help them, Azor Ahai is close."
Ned looked at him, expecting to see some blind devotion, and yet there was no fanaticism, no madness, the man spoke clear and true.
"I met a man I had thought a brother one day. A man who was worthy of my sister and the gods conspired to see to it that the son they may have had, that Azor Ahai was denied to them both. But gods work in mysterious ways Ned, and though he's not my Serra's son, he is Rhaegar's and I believe Daeron is the prince that was promised. So I'll see him crowned, even if it costs me gold and blood to so so."
Lorath 295 AC.
Oberyn.
He had searched both for the Targaryen children and for answers to a puzzle that he hadn't been able to solve. For a year after Loreza had been born, he'd kept his visits to Essos brief, concentrating more on the latter than the former. Starfall, the Tower of Joy, he'd gone to both and found nothing but graves and more secrets. In the tower, he'd found no evidence of anything, not truly anyway and yet he felt something more than he knew had happened in this place.
In Starfall, he'd met with Ulric and noticed the man was not as strong as he had once been. He'd suggested sending Myles to speak to him but the Lord of Starfall had waved it off. Oberyn had spoken of Arthur's nephew while watching his other nephew spar. Ulric seemed equally proud of both of them and giving him no reason to doubt that the man spoke the truth, even if he obviously felt a father's pride for young Ned. When they'd spoken of Ashara, Ulric had done so with the same sadness that he himself would have when speaking on Elia. The only thing of note was an odd thing when he brought up the fact that at least the man had a piece of his sister left alive. Ulric nodding but not being as effusive as he may have been in the same situation.
It brought him no closer to stopping the nagging doubt in his head and yet soon he was back in Essos once more, following trails that had long since gone cold. He'd left men, hired some of his former company, and yet not even they could come close to finding them. That they were alive was all he knew of the Targaryen children and he cursed himself and Doran too for not placing guards close, his brother's reasoning for why they'd not still ringing in his ears.
"Should it come to the Spider's attention that Dornish men are in Braavos then the fat stag will find them, Oberyn. For six years they've been safe with Ser Willem without our interference, they'll remain so."
Yet they had not and now six years later they still had no idea where they were and he was no closer to finding them or the truth that nagged him so. Ser Arthur was a dutiful man, even in his brief conversations with him in the Vale that was still as clear as it had ever been. Rhaegar had ordered and Arthur obeyed, yet once things had turned then so had he and it didn't ring true. Why had he not gone to Dragonstone to the queen? Or East with her children? Why had he never sought them out? Or had he and Arthur was simply more clever than he?.
This latest visit hadn't even been about the children, instead, he'd traveled to Norvos with his niece and his girls to visit Mellario. Arianne eager for the chance to both travel and to see her mother, and Oberyn being the one who knows Essos best being the only one that Doran trusted with his heir. It was his last night there when he heard the tale and it was one which had him quickly changing his plans. It wouldn't be Dorne he'd be going back to, it would be Lorath.
"Almost 4,000 men, ships too, what the Westerosi are doing with a company of sellswords is beyond me."
"The Company of the Sea Snake, what a strange name."
"Even men of the Golden Company have left to join its ranks."
"What are their plans do you wonder?".
So after spending time with Mellario and allowing Arianne as much time with her mother as he could manage, they rode back to their ship and instead of heading straight back to Dorne, it was the Islands they would be visiting. Arianne and his girls welcomed the detour, his niece eager to see more of this strange exotic land and his girls always enjoyed the learning of new things and different experiences. Something he'd like to say they picked up from him, as he had always wished to do and see more than most people.
"Most of us live and die in the same corner we were born in, I don't want to be most of us." he had told them.
It was something his girls had embraced and though they loved Dorne most of all, they'd never give be happy with their lives being the same as most peoples. He had visited Lorath only briefly many years earlier as a younger man. Oberyn had not even come here to seek the Targaryen children as he knew they'd not visited and yet as their ship docked he wondered. Could they be a part of this company? Had someone else began a game using pieces his brother had thought his own?.
It took him three days to get close to the Company and to say it was impressive would be to do it a disservice. The men who made up its forces were diverse, to say the least. Dothraki, unsullied, free men of Essos, former pit fighters, Braavosi, released slaves, and Westerosi men. Yet it was the training that Oberyn took most note of, these men weren't training to fight in Essos, no, it was to Westeros they were looking.
When he saw the ships, the long silver-gold hair, and the grey-green eyes of the man who commanded them, he knew he was right. That the ship bore the seahorse only further proving that it was indeed the Bastard of Driftmark he was looking at. Oberyn decided now was as good a time as any to gain access to the Company itself. He saw the look Aurane gave him when he noticed him and it made him smile that the man kept his composure so well. Though perhaps he had no reason not to, after all, it was not as if Oberyn would be sharing this meeting with the fat stag.
"Prince Oberyn, a welcome surprise." Aurane said with a genuine enough smile.
"The Bastard of Driftmark." Oberyn said though there was no malice in how he did so.
"What brings you so far from Dorne, my prince?" Aurane asked.
"My niece wished to see her mother, we were heading back from Norvos when I heard a strange tale, a tale of men bearing arms and flying an interesting flag."
"Essos is full of such tales, my prince." Aurane said and he found himself chuckling.
"That it is, Aurane, and yet this one proved true." he said looking at the man more studiously now.
"And so you've come to see what the Company is up to, my prince? Or to see who's behind it?" Aurane asked.
"Both." he said as there was no need for pretense.
Aurane invited him to eat with him that night and Oberyn accepted. He found out the man had a rather nice Manse which he had purchased or had been gifted to him. Another little brick in the wall of clues he needed to decipher. The Velaryons had suffered much under Robert and Jon Arryn, their lands reduced, their power taken away, and then being forced to kneel to the stag's dour brother only adding to their shame.
Yet somehow they'd managed to rise and if they were indeed covering the cost of this endeavor, they'd managed to rise far higher than they should. Oberyn drank good wine and spoke on more casual things, allowing Aurane to offer up information when he wished. Yet the man kept his mouth closed for the most part. Though it opened more easily when Arianne and Nymeria spoke to him. Men no matter what their nature always more willing to speak when trying to impress a beautiful woman.
He spoke to his daughter the next morning and it turned out that Aurane had said something which had annoyed his niece and impressed Nymeria, something which had gained him her favors for the night at least. Yet even under his daughter's attention's the man had kept his mouth closed when it came to revealing his secrets.
"The man holds his tongue well, father, thankfully I found other uses for it." Nymeria said as they broke their fast, Oberyn seeing Arianne glower at her cousin, while he sat thinking rather than paying too much attention.
He was invited to join Aurane when the man visited the barracks the next day. All pretense that he may not be involved now gone and he wondered if the man was being overconfident or if there was nothing truly to find. Seeing the company from afar was no real judge of just how large or how well trained they were. Once again Oberyn getting the impression that these men were training for a much different fight than they should be.
"We have Braavosi Water Dancers, even the former first sword himself will be joining us soon." Aurane said and Oberyn looked to see was there truth in his words.
"And when will you take contracts?" he asked as he watched a group of Dothraki teach men to mount and dismount their horses faster than he thought possible.
"We have a contract." Aurane said and added no more.
It was when he saw him that he almost felt his heart stop. In front of him was a man he'd not seen in four and ten years and he looked as if he'd just stepped out of the prince's tent, and had not just walked through the doors of a building in the distance. Aurane noticed his stare and patted him on the back, walking with him in the direction that Ser Richard had headed. Oberyn looking both to the man beside him and the one some distance ahead. That he couldn't speak was he supposed to be expected, for whatever doubts he had that these men sought only one thing were gone completely now.
"Ser Richard I believe you and the prince are acquainted." Aurane said and Oberyn found himself looking into the eyes of Ser Richard Lonnmouth for the first time since the man had failed to find an errant knight at Harrenhal.
"Prince Oberyn." Ser Richard said.
"Richard?" he asked almost to be sure and found the man's chuckle to be an apt reply.
"It's been many a year, my prince, but aye, it's me."
They set sail the next day and Oberyn was no closer to the truth, no surer in his suspicions than he had been since he left Runestone many years before. There was a game going on, a game within a game and it made no sense to him at all. Ser Richard had suggested, hinted, that they served the Targaryens still, that they too were looking for the prince and princess, and yet there was something not quite right in his words. A lie hidden within the truth and it vexed him that he couldn't discern it or make the leap to figure it out.
What he knew was that Robert Baratheon had enemies other than he and Dorne and that one day those enemies would be knocking on the doors of the Red Keep itself. Yet whether or not those men were allies of his or just the enemies of his enemy, that was still unclear. He'd be glad to get back to Sunspear, to see Ellaria and his children, to travel to the Water Gardens and speak to his brother too. Perhaps Doran could make sense where he could not, or perhaps there was no sense to be made of any of it.
The Vale 295 AC.
Sansa.
That she was traveling alone was both exciting and a little frightening to her. True she had Jeyne with her and servants and guards, but her mother, father, even Septa Mordane weren't joining her on this trip. When her father had told her that she would be spending some time in the South she'd been overjoyed, thinking that finally they were fostering her and wondering where it was. She had hoped it would be Highgarden, had even prayed and lit a candle to the maiden to make it so, only to find out she wasn't being fostered at all.
While disappointed in that, soon she became excited at the idea that she'd spending some moons in the Vale. She looked forward to seeing her brother once more, her knightly brother, which made her so very proud. Jon had fought off bandits and rescued the fair maiden, his tale like one from the books she so adored. Though she had worried at first when she'd heard he'd been involved in fighting, by the end of the tale though she felt her chest rise at the deeds he had done and had made him a present that she hoped he'd like.
She wished to see Elaena and Ysilla too, both girls had made her feel so welcome on her last visit and though Wynafred was someone she loved to spend time with, her friend seemed more interested in her brother than in her. Sansa longed to take part in more of the southern courtesies, in seeing knights joust and dances and balls, and the letter she had received from Jon suggested that she would see many of them on her arrival. That there was such a thing as a season for them was a strange thought, and that she was arriving just in time for the beginning of it, an exciting one.
Yet the travel had been hard and the weather not pleasant, forcing her and Jeyne to have to stay mainly in their cabin. Today though was like something out of a dream and she wondered if the sun had deliberately chosen now to make its appearance. It allowed her to stand on the deck as they sailed into Gulltown and to look excitedly at the docks to see if there was anyone waiting for her. Though it was Jeyne who noticed them and not her.
"Sansa look, knights." Jeyne said happily drawing her attention to the group of men who looked to the ship.
"Jon?" she said looking at the one who held a wolf banner in his hand, though it was one she'd not seen before.
It had a pale blue background with a grey mountain or hill, on top of it, a white wolf stood howling at the moon. Jon having incorporated a little of House Arryn and House Stark along with a little of himself and she wondered why the wolf was white. Her brother was dressed in incredible armor, it was silver with blue and she was glad he wore no helm as when he caught her eye his smile was blinding. Beside him stood other men all armored too and she saw Ser Arthur and the scarred man who acted as Jon's guard. A man who had frightened her until Jon told her that she had nothing to be worried about, that Sandor was as true as any knight and far truer than most.
Despite the urge to hurry, she walked slowly down the gangplank and then frowned at the look Jon gave her, wondering if she had dressed inappropriately or had forgotten her courtesies. Only to find he was just taking her in and when she glanced at his face, he was smiling once more.
"By the gods, look at how my sister has grown." Jon said embracing her.
"It's good to see you Ser Jon." she said using his title only for him to whisper in her ear.
"You too sister, and I'm your brother still, to you, I'm Jon, Sansa." he said and she nodded as he introduced her to the rest of the people with her.
Mychel and Waymar had grown and as she looked to Ser Domeric she found he looked little like his father. Roose Bolton's eyes had always been cold when she'd met the Lord of the Dreadfort, his son's were anything but. She noticed how Jeyne blushed when Waymar kissed her hand and then looked around to see that Elaena and Ysilla hadn't joined them. Jon soon telling her that they awaited them back at Runestone.
"I hope you're ready to ride, Sansa, we forgot to bring a carriage." Jon said as they walked from the docks and Sansa heard Jeyne gasp only for Jon to laugh "That was supposed to be you who did that sister."
She would have slapped his shoulder if he wasn't wearing armor, instead, she scowled at him only for him to stick his tongue out and make her laugh herself. Jon helped her and Jeyne into the carriage and then surprised her when he joined them both, something that Waymar and Mychel made fun of him for.
"Really, the Mountain Wolf refuses to ride?" Waymar said with a chuckle.
"Mayhap he's getting old, you did knock him from his horse the other day." Mychel said with a smirk.
"He got lucky and only a fool would ride with you two when they had the chance to ride with such beautiful young ladies instead. Come sister, let's close the door to these…these…savages." Jon said and she looked to Jeyne who blushed and laughed at the same time.
The ride to Runestone was full of tales, Jon telling her of the feast on the morrow and letting her and Jeyne know to their delight that yes there would be dancing too.
"Will there be tourney soon, Ser Jon?" Jeyne asked eagerly.
"At weeks end, my lady." Jon said and her friend blushed once more.
Though Jeyne wasn't a lady, Sansa had always felt she should be treated like one. Jon was one of the few who ever had even when they were younger.
"Will you be competing, Jon?" she asked.
"I will, sister. I have a reputation to uphold after all and both my friends and the ladies Ysilla and Elaena would never allow us not to."
"Us?" she asked.
"Myself, Waymar, Mychel, and Domeric. The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights, Elaena calls us, though she takes issue that Mychel and Waymar have yet to earn their spurs."
"Why?" Jeyne asked.
"Why, my lady?" Jon asked confused.
"Why haven't they earned their spurs, are they not suitable to be knights?" Jeyne asked and Sansa glowered at her for asking such a question.
"What, no, it's not that. Some men are knighted just for reaching the end of their service, my lady. Others for some deed that others seek to reward them for and others for their exploits on the tourney field. Ser Domeric won the last Joust earning his spurs and I was named by Lord Jon. Both Mychel and Waymar would be named in a year or two when their service ends, but they'll earn their spurs before then, mark my words." Jon said and she saw Jeyne almost do that literally.
When they reached the keep, Jon helped them both out and they were met by both Lady Elaena and Lady Ysilla in the courtyard, Sansa finding herself looking at them both with awe. She had thought that Lady Wynafred and some of the women in White Harbor had been the most sophisticated ladies she'd ever met. Yet even the fact she'd met both ladies previously didn't prepare her for meeting them now. Ysilla was dressed in a dress somewhat in her house's colors, it's orange instead of bronze was muted though and yet it and the girl herself looked incredible. Her long dark hair and blue eyes were striking and her poise was something Sansa could only aspire to.
Elaena though made even Ysilla look almost plain. Her long blond hair was almost glowing in the sun, her eyes bluer than the sky and she too had worn her house's colors. Her blue dress was tinged with white accents and showed off her neck and shoulders. She wore a locket on a chain and Sansa could barely make out the design of a bird, a falcon? In her hair, she wore a pin of a bird of blue which stood out and drew the eye. Her smile soon had Sansa's own appearing and she noticed that when she greeted her, Jon seemed almost to stare at them both.
"Come, let's go meet my uncle, and then we'll get you both settled." Elaena said.
"Of course my lady." she said and Elaena looked at her.
"Call me Elaena, Sansa. Don't just stand there Ser Jon, your sister's things won't move to her room by themselves will they?" Elaena said smirking at her brother.
"Wouldn't that be a sight, just looking on as they made their own way to their room, oh look, Sansa, there goes your chest, walking on its own." Jon said rolling his eyes and both she and Jeyne laughed as did Ysilla.
"And here I thought you were a gallant knight." Elaena said with a snort as she took her arm, the girl smiling broadly once she turned away from her brother and leaning into Sansa "You have to be firm with him Sansa, your brother can be so very annoying." Elaena said in jest and Sansa found herself chuckling with her as they walked.
Laying down to sleep that night she felt both tired and eager for the next day. Lord Yohn and Lady Yara had been incredibly friendly, both of them happy to have her stay and their dinner that night had been one of the most fun ones she'd ever had. Jon and Elaena seemed to have this odd relationship where they teased, laughed at each other, and yet there was more to it than that. Sansa more than once finding either of them looking at each other and she wondered if there was more going on than she knew. She found that she looked forward to finding out, to spending time here and she was now even more grateful to her father that it had been here he'd sent her. Highgarden would have been welcome, but here she was among friends, family, and that meant more to her than anything.
Runestone 295 AC.
Jon Connington.
He'd traveled to Gulltown only once previously and when the ship left him off he was sorely tempted to go and visit the Graftons. The House had stood with his prince in the war and had suffered for it, and yet he knew they still held true to their old allegiances. But he knew he could not, him being here was dangerous enough and what he'd come for was much too important to him to risk it so. That it was late meant he'd needed to find a place to stay and so he'd ate and drunk at the tavern, his blue hair causing far too many looks for his liking.
It was a silly disguise and one that in some ways caused just as many issues as his own hair would have. People in the Vale not used to seeing a Tyroshi and the strange and new was always something which brought attention to it. That he'd arrived just in time for a tourney had removed some of the questions though and he found himself traveling with a group of men riding to take part. Men with tales to tell and tales he listened to, finding out things about Westeros that he hadn't been privy to before.
How the Lions were everywhere in King's Landing only proved Aerys fears true, the man had been as mad as could be but even a crazy fool can be right, and right he was. Tywin near the throne was a terrible thing and the realm would suffer because of it. That in truth was why Aerys had refused the old lion's offer, why he'd turned down his golden lioness for his silver prince. He'd framed it much differently as was his wont, but in truth, he feared what the lion may do. The fat stag wasn't so clever it seemed, or he perhaps he cared not, given how the men spoke of the king, Jon was almost sure it was the latter.
"I wish to test my arm against this Mountain Wolf, Ser Arthur come again some say, I'd seek to prove them wrong." A large man said and Jon looked his way.
"Maybe he'll compete in the Joust this time." another said and Jon tried not to look so eager, the idea of seeing Rhaegar's son joust one which stirred up some fond memories.
"What about you Griff? Think your sword a match for a young lad's?" the first man said and Jon snorted.
"What I hear is the boy is what, two and ten, three and ten? I've fought Unsullied, Dothraki screamers, what fear I for a green boy?" he said and hated to speak of Rhaegar's son that way.
"Green, green? You're all fools if you think the Mountain Wolf green, I were there that day, I saw him strike down men twice the size of me, six, seven, eight, nine men he took down as if they were naught but training dummies. I've seen that lad spar with both Ser Arthur Dayne and Sandor Clegane. I wish you good fortune should you cross blades with him and you'll all be happy that it's a tourney that you do so in." an older man said and Jon looked to him.
He found himself riding with the man the next day, finding out he was a guard in service of House Arryn and hearing the truth about how Daeron earned his spurs. The letters had not done it justice and as he saw the walls of Runestone come into view Jon was ever more eager to be inside. Once in he was billeted in barracks with some of the other men, Lord Royce having made rooms available and though it wasn't private, it was warm and comfortable. He signed up for the melee, mainly because the men he'd arrived with would have thought it strange if he'd not signed up for something, and he was a piss poor archer and didn't have the armor to joust.
It took him far too long to see anyone who he knew, knights, lords, free riders, and hedge knights. the Keep and grounds were full and there were far too many people for him to find anyone in particular. When he did it was purely by accident and Jon found himself looking at a ghost from the past, Ser Arthur looking every inch the man he had always been. That he was alone was disappointing and so Jon began to follow him, losing him in the crowd and then finding he was the one that was being found.
"State your business friend." he heard the voice and turned to see Ser Arthur looking at him, the dye in his hair only hiding him for a moment "Jon?"
"Aye, it's good to see you Arthur."
He was led through the keep, down halls, and corridors, and finally into a room where Arthur turned to look at him once more.
"I had thought you dead, Jon?" Arthur said and Jon nodded to the man once he spoke.
"I was as good as. After what happened, what I'd heard had been done. I drank and gave up and would have stayed that way had I not run out of coin." Jon said remembering the early years after he'd first gone to Essos.
"What did you do?"
"I joined the Golden Company, rose through the ranks, and drank far too much, would have stayed that way until I died, until one day a spider came calling." Jon said.
"And now?"
"And now I serve the Company of the Sea Snake, training men until their king calls."
"You know of him?" Arthur asked and he nodded.
"It's true, he's true?" he asked and saw Arthur's smile, that little doubt that had taken root in the pit of his stomach soon falling away.
"It's true. Come, I'm sure you wish to see him?" Arthur asked and he nodded, feeling his hands begin to sweat and his throat dry up.
"I...Arthur."
"I'll show you him, Jon, you can meet him when you're more ready." Arthur said and he nodded, grateful he understood.
They talked of old times as they walked, in generalities in case anyone could hear and then Arthur spoke of the king and Jon listened eagerly. Again though to anyone overhearing it would seem that Arthur was speaking of his nephew, but Jon ate up every single crumb of information as if he was a starving man devouring his first meal in an age. By the time they reached the sparring yard and he heard the clashing of the blades, Jon felt like a much younger man once more. He was eight and ten, nine and ten, and his prince's hair was as silver as the moon on a calm summer's night.
When he saw him his hair wasn't silver, it was dark as shadow and yet he was Rhaagar's son for true. His build, his movements, his easy grace and quickness of foot, and Jon looked at him as he deflected one blade and moved to face another. Four men fought in a circle, one for all and all for one it seemed and Jon watched as they teamed up, fought in pairs, and turned against each other. The other boys seemed older than Rhaegar's and yet none of them could match him and though it wasn't seriously they fought, the skill shown was and non more skilled than Daeron.
The spar ended and Daeron walked over to the tall scarred man, taking the skin from him and drinking the water down. Jon looked to see some girls watching eagerly, one with hair even redder than his and another who's blond almost looked silver in this light. It was when he turned his way that his legs almost went from under him. Jon seeing those eyes for the first time in four and ten years and then seeing a smile he'd never been able to forget.
"I failed the father, I will not fail the son." Jon said softly as he looked at his king.
Casterly Rock 295 AC.
Tyrion.
His brother's visits were rare, so when Jaime did come Tyrion always swore to make the most of them. Usually finding to his chagrin that his father would have much different ideas. So he feared this one was to be the same and yet he looked forward to seeing Jaime too, his eyes going to the gates when he saw him ride in with Ser Addam. Tyrion looked back to the keep, knowing his father despite not coming down here himself was watching. You went to Tywin Lannister, Tywin Lannister didn't come to you even if you were his golden son.
Jaime smiled upon seeing him as he always did and Tyrion welcomed the embrace, and the fact his brother dropped to his knee to do so. That he then walked slowly with him so Tyrion could keep up marked him much different from their father and sister, both of who delighted in slighting him so. Not Jaime though, Jaime had always been true, good, and a brother that anyone could be proud of.
"Not an evil spiteful creature like you." Cersei's voice said in his head.
He was surprised when his brother met up with him so soon, Tyrion having expected his father to keep him occupied for far longer than he had. Though he welcomed it even more as it gave him and Jaime time to catch up. Soon it became clear that all was not well with his brother and try as he might, Jaime wouldn't open up, not about whatever it was on his mind anyway. Instead, he spoke in abstracts talking about things and people long since dead and Tyrion drank and listened as any good brother should.
"Was I a fool? To think better of him?" Jaime asked.
"He is our father, though we know the truth of him, we hope for the best?" Tyrion replied.
"And yet, Castamere, what he did to Grandfather's mistress, I should have thought him for what he is, a monster."
"Our father still." Tyrion said though he wasn't disputing Jaime's words, just surprised at them.
"Had I known, had I thought, I should have gone to them." Jaime said though it was not to him he spoke.
It was rare that Jaime spoke of this and usually only when he was in his cups. He instead preferred to keep such thoughts to himself. When his brother had told him the truth of why he'd killed Aerys, Tyrion had been shocked. He like others, especially their father, believed it was because he'd been ordered to kill Tywin Lannister. Not because the madman who sat the throne threatened to destroy the city with Wildfire. Why his brother hadn't told the realm the truth he didn't know. Lannister pride? Arrogance? Shame at what he'd not managed to do? It was a tricky subject with Jaime and one he felt no need to poke and prod to receive the answer to.
"Rhaegar would have been a good king, Tyrion. Far better than the one who sits the throne, far better." Jaime said.
"I think father may disagree, I doubt Rhaegar would have married our sister or allowed our House to run the realm." he said swallowing his wine.
"No, he would not." Jaime said.
The next few days were strange, his brother spent most of them with him or alone, other than when he sparred. Hearing his father moan about his brother's lack of ambition was at least a pleasant diversion, usually, it was his own ambition that fuelled his father's annoyance. Strangest of all was how often Jaime could be found walking past his old room, past Cersei's and past their mother's, Jaime spending an inordinate amount of time in a room that no one dared enter. It had even led to an argument between him and their father one night after their meal.
"You are not to enter that room again." Tywin said once everyone had left, only he, Jaime, and Genna still in the Great Hall.
"It's my mother's room." Jaime said.
"It is and it's not for you to enter."
"She was my mother too, not just your damn wife." Jaime said angrily.
"And this is my keep, since you refuse to accept your role in our family, you will accept mine own." his father said.
"Of course, Lord Lannister, why forgive me, Lord Lannister, go to the seven fucking hells Lord Lannister." Jaime said pushing his chair from the table so hard that some plates and glasses fell.
"Jaime come back here at once." his father said angrily.
His brother did not and when Tyrion hurried to his room that night he found him packing to leave, Jaime slamming drawers shut and grabbing his things.
"Jaime." he said softly
"Jaime."
"I'll be leaving on the morrow, brother, I know now what I need to do." Jaime said and Tyrion moved to his brother, wondering what he meant.
"Jaime?"
"Our father is an evil man and I served an evil man once. I'll never do so again." Jaime said.
Tyrion watched his brother ride out the next day, he'd hugged him and told him he loved him, that he was his brother and he'd be there for him always and then he'd mounted his horse and rode away. He looked up to his father's rooms and wondered if he was standing at the window looking down. If he'd known that he'd lost his son for good this time or not.
Runestone 295 AC.
Jon Snow.
He didn't take part in the joust this time, his horse having pulled up lame in the practice tilts and Jon having no wish to use any other. Over time with the help of the books his uncle sent him from the wall, with practice and great effort he'd learned to embrace what it meant to be a warg. Jon still had a long way to go and at times he found it easy to lose himself, but he could enter some animals at will now, where before it was almost by accident.
His horse was one of them and it had brought them even closer. Domeric was a fine horseman and Jon probably on par or maybe finer, yet with his horse and he together he had him beat. Mychel and Waymar edged him in lance work, yet being a good horseman was an even larger part of what made a good jouster, and so he won far more than he lost when they rode. In tourney's against each other, Jon maybe had the edge, against the other knights, he was beaten only by strength and experience. If Yohn, Sandor, Arthur, and Ser Brynden rode against him then he'd win two from ten, three on a good day.
But he was getting closer and Domeric closer still, where against Jon he'd falter more than once, against the older knights Domeric excelled more often than not. Something he was doing again today and Jon sat with his sister, Jeyne, Ysilla, and with Elaena by his side cheering their friend on. He'd made it to the last eight and was up against Lord Yohn, the crowd and his friends, in particular, cheering him to beat the Bronze lord.
"Come on Ser Domeric." Mychel shouted out.
"The pink knight." Jon shouted, much he knew his friend's annoyance.
That Lord Yohn looked their way and smiled showed he took it how it was meant, it was not slight to their lord, but support for their friend, and only Ysilla and Waymar took their father's side.
"The Lord of Runestone." Ysilla shouted.
"Show the North what the Vale is made of father." Waymar shouted.
He held both his sister's and Elaena's hands in his own, Sansa looking on dreamily as Domeric raced down the field. The night before he and Domeric had played their harps, Sansa clapping delightfully when they played a happy song and tearing up when the sang Brave Danny Flint. She'd even given Dom her favor to wear when he'd asked, his sister blushing adorably, as did Jeyne when Waymar asked for hers.
That both girls were far too young didn't matter and for Jon, he'd much rather it was his friend who wore it than Harry the Arse, who'd tried once he found out that Sansa was his sister. As the two lances hit home Jon felt Sansa grip his hand a little more tightly and looked to see Waymar grimace just a little as Jeyne did the same to him. His friend despite losing early had made a friend in young Jeyne it seemed and that she had a crush on him was plain for all to see. Four more tilts it took and then he, Sansa, Elaena, and Mychel were on their feet cheering loudly when Dom unseated Lord Yohn.
"The Dreadfort." he shouted and saw Dom look his way and nod.
That Lord Yohn was unhurt was clear and he nodded in Dom's direction, Sansa smiling broadly as the next tilt took place. Sandor beat Lyn Cobray in two and Jon smirked at Mychel, his friend shaking his head as he did so. Arthur won in four and Brynden in three and then they looked on eagerly to see the draw. Elaena looking at him when Dom was announced to fight Ser Arthur and Sansa looking forlorn.
"He rode well against Lord Yohn, Sansa, he'll do so against Ser Arthur too, and should he fall then he's done far better than most." he said and his sister nodded.
Ser Brynden got the better of Sandor for once and then Arthur beat Dom in three, his friend doing far better than he had ever done against the Sword of the Morning. When it came to the champion's tilt, Jon saw Arthur look his way and nod and soon enough he was racing down the field. It took him five to win but there were few alive who could match lances with Arthur and Brynden as good as he was, wasn't one of them. Jon watched as Arthur picked up the crown and the crowd looked on enviously, nodding to Elaena he saw her smile when he looked to his sister and Arthur rode her way.
"Lady Sansa, I would name you the Queen of Love and Beauty." Arthur said and Jon swore his sister squealed in delight.
That her face went as red as her hair and she also wore the largest smile he'd ever seen her wear when she put the crown on her head, showed just how much it had meant to her. It was Elaena who suggested it and who was Jon to refuse her. Over the years Arthur had crowned, her, Ysilla, and her mother more times than not, and this time it was Sansa's turn, a story to take home with her when she finally returned.
Not that would be anytime soon he thought happily as they made their way back to the keep. Jon quickly sneaking off to spend some time alone with Elaena once he could. He found her in the gardens, it was their own special place, and he quickly took a seat beside her, feeling her hand in his almost as soon as he sat down.
"She seemed most pleased." Elaena said and Jon nodded.
"She was, I think it's something she'll remember for a long time." he said.
"I had hoped to be crowned by you, Ser Jon, though would you have crowned your sister had you won?" Elaena asked.
"I'd have crowned, you, only you." he said seeing her smile.
The kisses they shared were and had been something more over the past few moons. What the difference was he didn't understand at first, thinking it was something to do with growing older or becoming a man. Elaena too it seemed felt this way also, confiding in him that she'd flowered only recently. Yet in speaking to Arthur it seemed there was more to it and as always it was Sandor who cut through the pretense and politeness to tell him what it was.
"You love the little bird." Sandor had told him and Jon had looked to see if the man was japing.
"I.."
"You love her." Sandor said, leaving no room for doubt.
That he was right had led to a question forming in his mind, one he both wished for the answer and feared for at the same time. Did she love him? Was that what she was feeling when they kissed? When they were together? And if so then what did that mean? Jon had read his father's letters, looked at songs that his father had written about his mother too. He knew what love was in his own way, he'd seen it and read about it.
His uncle loved Lady Catelyn, Lord Yohn loved Lady Yara and he had known that Mychel loved Mya and she, him before either of them had, something Elaena had known too. As he sat there with her, feeling her lips on his, he knew he loved her with all of his heart and he needed to know if she felt the same. Breaking off from the kiss was hard and he looked into her eyes and saw the confusion there for a moment. So he smiled to put her at ease and was happy to see his smile returned.
"Elaena, I...I love you." he said seeing her eyes go wide.
"I love you too, Jon." she said her voice happy and light.
"You do?" he asked and she nodded kissing him once more.
"I do, I do."
"Marry me?" he said and she moved back from him, and he felt his heart threaten to break.
"Jon..I…we..you're to be king." she said shakily.
"Be my queen, there's no one else for me, Elaena, no one, marry me, be my wife?" he asked nervously, almost panicked at the thought she'd said no.
"Yes." she said her voice barely a whisper.
"For true?" he asked looking at her carefully.
"Yes, I'll marry you, for true." she said and he looked at her before grabbing her in his arms, moving back to look into her eyes once more.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next A melee is held and a brotherhood shows it's skills, Elaena tells Ysilla what Jon asked her, in King's Landing Jon Arryn plots and in the Vale while Sansa learns an important lesson, Jon Connington meets a king.
I've now firmed my schedule for this and my other stories, this will be going to monthly updates and will rotate with three other stories on Monday's. So next Monday The Dark Prince will update, followed the Monday after by The Winter King and then Different Song on consecutive Monday's until the next update of this comes out.
Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.
Svenion: Me either tbh, but it's kinda needed to honor the Arryns.
Alexguamenti: It has lit a fire under him, so we'll see the fallout from that.
Vwchihik: Jaime has made his decision and so we'll see the fallout from that, as for Lysa and LF, they'll plot away, will Jon A be safe here, hmm that's a tricky one.
Guest: The egg we'll find out about in a little while as for Jaime his whole canon arc kinda revolves around Cersei so much, I mean even his experiences on the road with Brienne aren't what truly changes him, it's what Tyrion tells him in the tunnels that does. So here, well knowing what he does will and already has changed him greatly.
Dunk: We'll see more of them later, LF's biggest strength here is that Varys while looking his way has bigger irons in the fire and so hasn't fully moved towards him. In canon I think Varys would have killed LF in moments only his actions helped him, here he's got so many moving parts as the conspiracy is in a way bigger that he's almost allowing LF to slip under the cracks. Lysa was so broken by what Hoster did, so she really is Cat without a filter so to speak. The mere fact that she doesn't come to help in the WOTFK, really is the clue to just how bitter she was. I know it's often portrayed that LF manipulated her and he certainly did, but I also think she took some pleasure in seeing bother Hoster and Cat brought low. We'll see with Jon A, one of the biggest issues again like Varys is that the conspiracy he's involved in has more working parts that he's looking at the obvious Robert, Stannis, Renly, Tywin as the threats.
Grrm said about LF that he's considered so insignificant a threat he gets away with things for so long because of it and I can kinda get that, you look at LF or Tywin and go, yeah he's easy to deal with.
Naruto: So glad you liked it.
Xand007: Thank you my friend. Really glad you're liking it and you too, stay safe and well.
Lady Octarina: It's so funny with Sandor, he probably in his own way epitomizer's a knight better than most, other than what he does to Mycah. I think she does, with Robin it's basically keep him, small and weak and totally reliant on her. We'll see both her and LF change their plans very soon, an event coming which will cause them to look at things differently for a while. On Jaime, this has completely changed him, seeing her for himself and realizing the truth, we'll see a much different Jaime from here on in. Wyman is just one of the best characters, god they robbed us of him big time.
Literary Consumer: So glad you liked it, I wanted to do a story so far from my other in terms of Jon A.
Guest: On the first attack, not really. The use of the Mountain Tribes is a good cover, now if he attacked or tried soon after then yes, but LF will hide for a bit and won't do anything so overt for some time. The biggest issue with Jon A is he's the catalyst really for everything, it's harder for him not to die than it is for him to live because he's the link to all the moveable parts, so we'll see if that's the case here.
Chaney: So very glad you liked it, and a whoop, high praise indeed.
Hunterofaremis: no worries, We'll see with Jon A, Jon's kinghood is like having a key to open some doors in a way as for Jaime, his path is changed now and much earlier than it was in canon.
