Runestone 295 AC.

Elaena.

Jon's sister had truly loved being crowned, Elaena, and the others all having noticed how she almost refused to take the crown off her head unless she had to. Even when she did Sansa kept looking at it almost willing it back to her head. It made her think of the first time she herself had been crowned, Ser Arthur doing the deed on her nameday and after Elaena had found herself standing in front of the looking glass just staring at her reflection because of it. It was something she'd done again, even more, when Jon had crowned her after the squire's joust.

So she'd not deny his sister her enjoyment of this fun besides her mood was far too good to begrudge anyone else's their own. All-day as they readied for the night's feast she'd found herself drifting off just as much as Sansa now was. Her mind and heart full of what she and Jon had spoken of, the admission they'd both made, and the question he had asked her. She'd actually wanted to tell him, no, to talk him out of such a thing, even though it would have pained her heart to do so. He was to be king and he would need to marry for an alliance or to marry someone who was a bigger catch than she. Her mind going to Princess Arianne or to Margaery Tyrell and while she hated the thoughts of Jon with another, she'd have wished it so in order to see him crowned.

That he would not, that he had no desire for anyone else had filled her heart with joy and left her worried all the same. Only the words he spoke to her making those worries go away and soon enough she forgot what it was her head was telling her and like him had listened completely to her heart. After he'd asked her, they'd spoken and she'd explained her thoughts. Jon listening to them and knocking each one down, making her worries go away and in some cases kissing them away much to her delight. He'd made his feelings clear and Elaena knew that she'd soon need to speak to her father, to tell him what they'd decided, and to seek his mind on it. But first, she needed to speak to Ysilla and she hoped to do so later that night.

"He'll be fighting against the older men?" she heard Sansa ask worriedly and she cleared her mind for now and decided it was for the best to pay attention to what was going on around her.

"Of course, they always do so at the melees." Ysilla said.

"But they're just boys." Jeyne Poole said.

"Don't let them hear you call them that, Jeyne, you'll find them most unappreciative." Elaena said as they looked her way.

"But the older men are much bigger than they are." Sansa said worriedly.

"You've seen Jon spar against Ser Arthur, Sansa, against Sandor. Waymar, Mychel, and Domeric too, all of them spar often against older men and have fought in melees against them as well. Jon is the best sword my father has seen of his age and Mychel is far better than most. Waymar is not too far behind and while Domeric is better with a lance, he's not without talent, not to mention they always fight together." Ysilla said.

"Together?" Sansa asked.

"The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights." Elaena said with a smile.

"Oh, Jon spoke of such when we arrived, remember Sansa." Jeyne said as she lay back on the bed.

"Sansa, trust me, Jon, with a sword in hand is as safe as any man could be. Other than Ser Arthur there are few who come even close." she said as assuredly as she could.

"I'm sorry for my concern." Sansa said looking abashed.

"Never be sorry for caring for your brother, it's what sisters are supposed to do." she said seeing Sansa nod and Elaena finding herself thinking a little on her own brother.

When Sansa and Jeyne left to make ready for the feast, Elaena asked Ysilla to stay behind, waiting until she was sure the girls were gone before she spoke to her closest friend. She bid Ysilla sit on her bed and then sat down beside her, looking her in her eye and reaching out to take her hands in her own.

"You must promise me not to speak on this, not until I give you leave, Silla."

"Laeny." Ysilla said rolling her eyes.

"Silla please." she said and her cousin nodded.

"I give you my oath, I swear it on the mother." Ysilla said.

"Jon told me he loved me today." she said and saw Ysilla's happy smile appear "He asked me to be his wife."

"Elaena?" Ysilla said and Elaena didn't notice the smile leaving her face.

"I told him I would marry him." she said excitedly and then she frowned when she saw that Ysilla didn't seem as excited as she was "Ysilla?"

"I...I wish I could wish you well, Elaena, truly I do, I'd wish for nothing more than to see you get all that you wish for, but despite Jon's rise, despite him being a knight, he's still…he's still…"

"That doesn't matter." she said knowing what Ysilla was getting at.

"It will Laeny, it will. Mine own father loves Ser Jon as if he were my brother, as does your own, but neither would allow their daughter to marry a…"

"Say it, say the words." She said angrily moving her hands from her friends and turning her back on her.

"I'll not, I don't think of him that way, you know that. There are far few men as sweet as Jon, but it's the same as with Mychel and Mya, they may wish for it but it's not to be, I'm sorry Laeny, truly I am."

She wanted nothing more than to tell her the truth, to speak to her about who Jon really was and yet she knew she could not, it was not her secret to tell. That it would put Jon at risk and even House Royce itself didn't make it any easier. So instead she turned to Ysilla and hugged her friend tightly and said no more on the subject for the rest of the night. Elaena telling her they'd talk later before she took her time to dress and headed to the feast. When she got there she put on her best impression of being happy and joyful, while inside she was upset that her friend hadn't shared in her joy.

It was something that Jon picked up on very quickly and as soon as the music began she found him standing in front of her. His eyes looked deeply into her own as he reached out his hand and before she had even the chance to accept she was being led to the floor. Jon held her a little more closely than proper and she welcomed the feel of being with him this way. He didn't say anything, didn't ask her what was wrong, he just held her a little more tightly than he usually did unless they were alone and she thanked him for it.

They danced twice more and then she watched as Jon danced with Sansa and Jeyne and then with Ysilla before he took his seat once more. She herself had danced with both Mychel and Domeric, while Sansa seemed to truly enjoy all the attention. Though how Harry had managed to get a dance with her with Jon in the room was beyond her. As the night drew to a close, she watched as Jon escorted Sansa and Jeyne back to their rooms and waited on him to come back to escort her to her own. Soon enough she was walking down the corridor with him and she knew he was about to ask her what was on her mind.

"Laeny?" he said softly and she found she had to answer, the look on his face was so full of concern that she felt she needed to.

"It's Ysilla, we spoke about…us, we spoke and though she was happy for me Jon, she was…." she said not able to say the words.

"You wish to tell her the truth?" he said after a few moments of silence.

"I…"

She felt his arms go around her once more and leaned closer into his chest, feeling his fingers brushing through her hair.

"I'll speak to Arthur and your father and we'll talk, there are others that need to know also. Can you wait until then?" he asked looking at her.

"Jon I..you don't…you don't need to." she said but he silenced her with a kiss and when his lips left her own she nodded at him and they walked the last few feet to her room.

"Good night Elaena." he said kissing her forehead.

"Good night Jon." she said a small smile on her face when she saw his own.

As she lay down in her bed she felt some of the upset at Ysilla not knowing the truth and jumping to a logical conclusion begin to fade. Finding that her worries now took on a different form as she began to think about what it would mean both to her relationship with her friends and to Jon's with his own once the truth was outed. She knew none of them would speak on it, all of them would understand the consequences of that. But would it change things between them? She found she couldn't be certain that it would not.

Runestone 295 AC.

The Melee.

Jon.

He put on his last piece of armor, his young squire helping him to do so and Jon was again thankful to Lord Yohn for suggesting the lad. Gyles was the youngest son of Ser Gerold Grafton and Jon had no need to think back on his history to remember that House Grafton had stayed loyal to his family during the rebellion. Fostering in the Vale had shown him how House Grafton was looked down on despite its prominence and it had been that more than anything which had given him the opportunity to take Gyles on as his squire. That and of course how he himself was now seen in the Vale since he'd been knighted by Lord Jon.

When Lord Yohn had suggested he needed a squire, Jon had both tried to laugh it off and then think about the politics of it. Arthur telling him that as the true king he would have had every Great House in the land seeking to have one of their sons squire for him. Jon then retorting that to the realm at large he was no more than a bastard knight and so he'd be lucky if any noble house allowed one of their sons anywhere close to him. It was then that Lord Yohn had suggested Gyles and to Jon's surprise Ser Gerold had readily agreed.

"Have you eaten this morning, Gyles?" he said once he was fully armored.

"I have Ser." Gyles said sheepishly.

"Gyles?" he said knowing that the boy's excitement would have had him up first thing.

"I'm not hungry Ser." Gyles said after a moment's silence.

Jon got up and brought the plate over to the boy, it was just bread and cheese and some grapes and fruit. Lord Yohn having made sure that there was a small snack awaiting each of the competitors before the melee began. He tried not to smile as the boy wolfed it down, the truth about his hunger now very apparent. Jon mussed the boy's hair before he took his seat and waited for the call to head out to the field. He wished he could be with Waymar and Mychel who were readying themselves in one of the other tents or with Domeric who was in his own. It had always been their usual routine to ready themselves together and to jape at each other's expense but as a knight, he now had to behave as one which meant he readied himself alone.

"Ser Jon, it's time." the young boy who popped his head inside the tent said before scurrying off to inform some other knights no doubt.

"Take the plate with you, Gyles. You have a good vantage point picked out?" he asked as he picked up his helm and stood up.

"I do, Ser Jon. I and some of the other squires are watching from the raised hill." Gyles said as he swallowed yet another grape.

"Good lad, you make a wager?" he asked with a smirk.

"My coin is on the Mountain Wolf, Ser." Gyles said smiling back at him.

"Then I'll surely win." he said with a chuckle.

He walked from the tent and saw Domeric had already caught up with Mychel and Waymar and all three of them were heading his way. Turning to Gyles he gave the lad a nod and watched as he ran off to get to his seat. Jon then crossing the distance between himself and his friends.

"Why it can't be, is that the Mountain Wolf I see." Domeric said his voice loud as he japed at his expense.

"No, you must be wrong, Ser Domeric. For I heard the Mountain Wolf was a giant of a man, a fierce warrior whose mere presence strikes fear into the hearts of mortal men." Mychel said with a chuckle.

"As have I, ten feet tall the tales say, eyes yellow and glowing and were a man to look too close then he'd know it was his end." Waymar added.

"You three are fools." he said his tone light as he made a move to grab Waymar around the head, their laughter soon ringing out as they walked to the field.

The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights, he had to admit it was growing on him and they were as true a brotherhood as any he'd ever read about. They were more than his friends and his talk with Elaena the night before had made him realize that. Just as with Ysilla for her, Jon knew they needed to know the truth about who he really was. He had no fear it would make them think differently of him, or that they would ever speak or go against him, but the longer he kept it from them the less true that may be.

"Shall we?" Domeric asked as they walked through the gap.

"Why not, we're all dressed up after all." Mychel japed.

"The Brotherhood." Waymar said.

"The Brotherhood." he replied as did the others.

Arthur.

He looked down at the field and could see Jon stand out, his armor far more special than any of the other competitors. There were sons of lords and knights, sons of some of the noblest houses in the Vale along with hedge knights, tourney knights, men from Essos, and men from throughout the realm, and yet none wore armor the likes of Jon's. While he appreciated the fact his king was dressed as a king should be, he also knew the armor would make him a target and had spoken of it with Sandor the night before. The man just laughing at him and saying, let them come at him if they dare.

Looking out to the field he saw Jon Connington's blue hair as he moved closer to the king and relaxed some. Both he and Sandor would be down there fighting with him if they could but both knew their king wished to do this alone. Yet having Jon Connington down there and knowing that he'd watch his back allowed for Arthur to not worry any more than he already was. He turned and looked around at those sitting nearby, seeing Elaena sitting with Ysilla and Sansa Stark and her friend, Mya Stone sitting close beside them laughing at something that Elaena said.

When he'd heard that the girl was Robert Baratheon's bastard he'd not known what to think, a part of him wanting to hate her simply for that. Arthur knew though you couldn't judge the child based on the father, Rhaegar was not Aerys, and Jon despite being his prince's son was not Rhaegar. That the girl was involved with one of Jon's friends and seemed to be part of the small group of people that surrounded him had made him wary too. But the more he'd spoken to her and come to know her, the more he'd come to like young Mya.

"My Lords and Ladies, we now present the Melee. Among those taking part we have Ser Andar Royce the heir to Runestone, Ser Robar Royce, and Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish. Ser Lyn Corbray, Ser Vardis Egen, Ser Symond Templeton, and Ser Eustace Hunter.."

Arthur listened on as the names rang out, some knights from the Riverlands and Crownlands and a couple from the Reach amongst the number but mainly they were knights from the Vale.

"Ser Domeric Bolton and Ser Jon Snow, The Mountain Wolf." the herald said as he finished and Arthur heard the excited hum that came upon the crowd when they heard Jon's name.

While he wasn't best pleased about how Jon had earned his spurs nor that he had not been there to keep him safe, he was incredibly proud of him all the same. He'd done something himself, not based on his birthright or his true name, he'd proved himself worthy by his own skills alone. It had garnered him a name, a reputation, and an acceptance that could only bore well for when the truth came out. Jon had saved both Lord Jon and his daughter, the Vale may not be the North but it too remembered.

Jon Connington.

The names had been called out, his not amongst them as to them all he was simply Griff a traveling tourney participant from Tyrosh. In another world, at another time, the mere fact that Lord Jon Connington was competing in a tourney would mean something. Even were the truth known now his presence would mean something and yet for Jon, the only meaning stood no more than ten feet away. His eyes almost by their own will going to Daeron as he pulled out his sword and took up his stance.

He'd smiled when hearing the reaction of the crowd to his name and now he looked on as Daeron and the three other boys he named his friends readied for any who came their way. A young lad wearing a Riverlands sigil came his own and Jon made short work of him, his sword far faster and far more practiced than the one the lad was bearing. Looking to his left he could see that the four boys were fighting together and had easily disposed of the first three that had come their way. Daeron standing at the front leading while the others had formed an almost box around him.

Watching him wield a blade in a truer setting than the sparring yard, Jon couldn't help but think on what he'd been told on his journey here. The words the guard had spoken now proving true to his eyes as he watched Daeron take down yet another opponent. He himself would not like to face him in a life or death fight and he would mourn any who did. Daeron he saw wielded his sword like it was an extension of his person and Jon thanked the gods for Ser Arthur Dayne.

"You just going to stand there watching old man." a cocky voice called out and Jon turned and smiled, ready to fight his own fight.

This one lasted a little longer, the cocky young man had the talent to back some of his words up, some but not all he'd soon found to his cost. These boys of summer had not felt the true feel of battle or fought for their lives for as many years as Jon had. While he'd drunk some of his life away while serving the Golden Company, he'd fought often and despite a wish in his heart to die, he'd found his head didn't agree. Jon thankful for that now as well as the experience he'd garnered while in Essos.

Mychel.

He didn't need to look to know Jon wore Elaena's favor just as he knew Jon didn't need to look to know whose favor he wore. Mychel seeing her in the crowd cheering him on as he, Dom, Waymar, and Jon took down any who came their way. That more did so than usual was down to Jon no doubt, Mychel having heard how men spoke of wishing to test their blade against the Mountain Wolf's. It was something he imagined that Ser Arthur had needed to face for many years, cocky men wishing to prove themselves by taking down someone more skilled or known that they.

Well, they'd find no quarter here he thought as his own blade moved to parry the blow from the large Reach knight. Mychel knew his brothers thought he was jealous of Jon, that it irked him there was a better blade of his age than he, and they couldn't be more wrong. Each of them were friends, as close as brothers if truth be told, he, Dom, Waymar, and Jon could never be jealous of each other. They celebrated each other's successes and commiserated over their failures. Jon was a better blade and Dom a better jouster and yet he and Waymar had both knocked them from their horses too. All of them had something they were better at than the other, something which made them stick out and so none of them felt put out when one of them achieved. Instead, they felt as it was all of them who did so.

"Ser Lyn?" he heard Jon's voice say and he turned his head to see his knight was now standing face to face with one of his closest friends.

"Ser Jon, shall we." Ser Lyn said and Jon nodded.

He, Waymar, and Domeric quickly dispatched the few men who came their way, all of them eager to watch as Jon and Lyn crossed blades. They were not alone in this, the crowd's voices soon raised as people turned to point out what was happening and even some men on the field stopped their fights to look their way. Mychel noticed one man, in particular, seemed most interested. The blue-haired Tyroshi had fought close to them all through the day so far and now he moved even closer still.

When the two blades collided he heard a cheer rise up, another when Jon ducked and spun and almost caught Lyn across the side. Jon's blade moving even faster than he'd ever seen it and Mychel watching on while twirling his own. It felt as if there was no one else out there fighting, just Jon and Lyn, and the sounds of their swords clashing were the only sounds he heard. The two of them parrying, feinting, moving in for the kill, and then moving back out just as quickly when they realized a trap had been laid.

He like others gasped when he saw Jon's sword fall to the ground and then he watched as Jon began to dodge the strikes that Lyn sent his way. When he saw the small tourney knife in Jon's hand he smirked and the sound of it hitting Lyn's helm was louder than even the sound of the swords had been. Mychel looking on as Lyn stumbled and Jon moved quickly to pick up his discarded sword before he then moved even more quickly to take Lyn's feet from under him.

"Yield." Jon said with his sword now pointing at a stunned Ser Lyn's face.

"I Yield." his knight said accepting the hand that was offered to pull him up though Mychel could tell it was with no great humor.

Almost as if a spell was lifted, the sounds of swords hitting swords soon rang out once more and Mychel took up his position as the men now came their way again.

Lord Yohn Royce.

The field was whittling down, Yohn looking out to see who was left and unsurprised to see some of those who were. Brynden was a good bet to win the thing and he'd watched as his old friend had proved his teeth were just as sharp as they'd ever been. All of his sons still held their own, Andar and Robar both out there and performing well. As for Waymar, just looking his way made him smile as he watched as he and his friends belied their ages and proved any who came their way to be fools. He like others had looked on keenly when Ser Jon had faced Ser Lyn. Yohn knowing that any who had doubted why Lord Jon had knighted him would not leave Runestone still carrying those doubts. Ser Jon having put on an exhibition and then winning when all seemed lost.

For Yohn though as much as he was impressed by Ser Jon's swordsmanship, it was the group of boys themselves who took his eye. The four of them were watching each other's back, helping each other out but not dishonorably so. They didn't double team an opponent or use their numbers to easily win against one. Instead, they let each of them prove their own worth and only helped out when some sought to use their numbers against one or another of their own.

He'd heard what Elaena had called them and had heard it also used in mocking terms by men who should know better. Though he also knew things they did not, truths that they weren't aware of and so he knew that the name would stick. Should Jon be successful and retake his throne then people would speak of his time in the Vale and while tales of the Mountain Wolf would no doubt be raised into legend and elaborated upon, other tales would be told as well. The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights would be such a tale, it may even become a song he thought with a chuckle as he turned to look at Ser Arthur and found the knight watching with a keen eye.

"Father look." Ysilla called out and he looked to see Andar standing toe to toe with the Blackfish while Robar fought Ser Eustace no more than a few feet away.

Yohn looked on excitedly, his son was a fine swordsman though he doubted he was a match for Brynden. Still, he knew it would be a true test and so he felt his heart begin to beat that little bit more quickly. Andar's form was good and his stance and fundamentals more than a match but Brynden had him beat in strength and experience. The fight going a respectable distance but in the end, the result was the one he more than expected.

Robar fared better and when he saw his brother was beaten he looked around to find the man who did it, Yohn looking on with pride while he did so. Brynden though had gone from his sight and Yohn found himself like Robar seeking the man out and then looking on with shock and surprise at what he saw. It seemed that another of his sons had also seen the fight and wished to salvage some family pride, Yohn watching as Waymar moved away from his friends and challenged the Blackfish in the middle of the field.

"My brother's a fool." Ysilla said though he could hear it was worry and not mockery that she spoke with.

"Waymar is standing for family, Ysilla, there's naught foolish in that." he said as he looked to see the fight begin.

Waymar.

He'd beaten three opponents so far this day and none of them would bring him any renown, not like Dom had gotten in the joust and that Jon would no doubt get from beating Ser Lyn. Not that he was jealous of his friend's success, it was more he was hungry for some of his own and so when he saw Andar fall he knew what he must do.

"I'm challenging the Blackfish." he said loud enough so that his friends could hear.

"Leave it Waymar, he'll come our way soon enough." Mychel said.

"Aye, there's no need to go to him." Dom added and Waymar looked to Jon and hoped his friend took his side.

"He favors his left, you know what to do." Jon said and he nodded and moved to where the Blackfish was walking.

He hurried to get to him upon seeing that Robar was now almost done with his own fight and knowing that his brother would seek to avenge Andar's loss should he not do so first. After almost running the last few feet he caught up with the older man, the Blackfish looking his way and recognizing the black studs on the bronze field that he had emblazoned on his shield.

"Robar?" the Blackfish asked almost as if he'd been expecting his brother to come and showing that he knew his family well.

"Waymar." he said to a surprised nod.

"Ah one of the pups, I'd have thought you'd have stayed with that Brotherhood of yours?" The Blackfish said.

"Well you beat one of my blood brothers, I felt I owed it to him to defeat the man who sent him from the field." he said as cockily as his nerves would allow him.

"So be it then. I wish you good fortune, young Waymar." the Blackfish said with a nod.

"And I, you, old Brynden." he said and received a hearty laugh in return.

The first strike would have taken the sword from his hand if he'd not faced stronger and harder ones in the sparring yard most morns. As fierce as The Blackfish may be he was a fish and a fish was not stronger than a dog. Sandor's lessons allowing him to deflect rather than take the full force of the blow and after doing so he caught Brynden by surprise with a strike of his own, that glanced off the Blackfish's dark grey armor.

Unfortunately, his surprise adeptness didn't phase the Blackfish for long and the Knight of the Bloody Gate quickly realized this was not to be the easy victory he'd imagined, and so began to take the fight far more seriously. Waymar was soon on the defensive and he began to get a bit desperate. He saw a plan that he'd not seen before and as the Blackfish moved in close, Waymar threw his shield at the man and knocked him off balance. The flurry of blows he then sent his way almost taking the man down as two out of every three landed. His advantage didn't last long and soon enough he was on the retreat once more. The Blackfish having recovered and Waymar was now fighting desperately just to stay in the fight.

Remembering Jon's advice he began to circle right and allowed the Blackfish to dictate the fight even more. To any watching, the fight was done and it was only a matter of time until he yielded but when Waymar quickly reversed his direction and began to circle right it caught the Blackfish and the crowd by surprise. The Blackfish's blows not landing or having the same effect as suddenly he held the advantage once more. The end when it came was quick and showed that fortune and luck played as much a part as skill, talent, or experience. Waymar slipping and losing his footing and the Blackfish soon forcing him to yield.

"Well done, young Waymar, well done indeed, the day was yours until you fell." The Blackfish said as he reached down to help him back to his feet.

"I thank you Ser, for the fight." he said and The Blackfish slapped his back warmly as Waymar heard the cheers of the crowd.

That his own name was being cheered so loudly was a big surprise and as he looked around he saw that he'd made it to the final ten. Only Jon and Mychel from the Brotherhood remaining and both of them were looking his way. He walked from the field and found both Andar and Robar to be waiting for him, his brothers walking with him to the back, and both of them congratulating him on an excellent showing. Waymar finally feeling as if he'd achieved something on his own, even despite the fact it had ended in a loss.

Jon Connington.

The young Royce had done well but in leaving his king's side he had perhaps cost Domeric Bolton his loss. Jon watching on as the field narrowed and it was down now to less than ten. Looking around he was happy enough with who he saw out there, the men left were ones who valued honor and who posed no threat to Daeron's health. The only danger facing his king now being the one faced by any who wielded a blade in a tourney. There was nothing he could do about luck and fortune, the gods alone controlled that and so knowing that Daeron risked no harm from any who remained, Jon instead did as he wished and moved his king's way.

He'd seen others come to challenge the Mountain Wolf, one of them had been the mouthy one from the party he'd traveled with to come here. The man soon finding out to his cost that he should have left well enough alone. Now though it was Jon's turn, his time to face his king and to cross blades with the son just as he had done so often with the father. Jon moved towards the two boys, his heart racing the closer he got and soon enough he was standing closer to Daeron than he had been thus far.

"Ser Jon, it'd be an honor to cross blades with you." he said speaking his words as truthfully as he ever had.

"And who would he be honoring so?" the other lad, Mychel Redfort asked.

"Griff." he said softly.

"Well then Ser Griff, I wish you good fortune in the fight to come." Daeron said moving forward to face him.

Gods the boy was quick he thought as he blocked yet another strike, the speed of them forcing him into just parrying and defense very quickly. He'd gotten in no more than two attacks and a couple of things had quickly become clear to him. Daeron was much better than he and far better than his father had ever been. Jon now having to use all of his experience just so he made the fight respectable. He was forced further back and almost stumbled once or twice and from there it only got much much worse for him.

As if he could sense that he was in complete control and only moments from victory, Daeron began pushing more and more, his strikes ever more unorthodox. Spins and turns, double feints, and half thrusts until finally out of nowhere Jon felt his feet go out from under him and he fell to the ground. There was no need for him to look up to see the sword at his neck, he could feel it pressing down on him, and yet the smile he wore on his face was as true as it had ever been.

"I yield, Ser Jon." he said without needing to be bid to.

"Well fought, Griff." Daeron said his hand extended to help him to his feet.

Jon looked around when he rose to his feet and saw that only four men remained, The Blackfish had been beaten and now it was down to Daeron, Mychel, Ser Vardis, and Ser Symond Templeton. He bid the two lads good fortune, trying not to seem overly favored in how Daeron did, and then he made his way to the back. Stopping once he got there to watch the end of the fight. Daeron faced off against Ser Vardis who he'd learned had beaten an almost exhausted Blackfish and Mychel stood toe to toe with Ser Symond. The mere fact that both boys had made it this far showing just how talented each was and Jon felt certain he knew who would win.

Elaena.

Mya looked at her smiling as both Mychel and Jon had made it to the final four, their own little rivalry over who would win was a friendly one after all. Sansa and Jeyne Poole had perhaps made the most noise of any who'd watched the melee. Both girls showing worry and concern, joy and happiness, excitement, and relief in equal measure as the fights reached their climax. Ysilla had cheered her friends and her brothers on. Waymar having done most excellently and Andar and Robar both having fought well too.

As Jon faced off against Ser Vardis, Waymar, and Domeric both joined them, Elaena happy to see they both took seats beside Sansa and Jeyne Poole. She'd told Jon that his sister had a crush on Domeric and that Jeyne Poole had one on Waymar was even easier to see. Despite the age difference between Sansa and Dom being a large one, Elaena understood how betrothals worked. Should House Bolton and House Stark be joined it would strengthen the North and House Stark would be looked upon favorably by its bannermen, especially if what Sansa said about her brother and Lady Wynafred was true as well. Jon though had raised some concerns, though not one of them about his friend. Instead, telling her of the Red Kings and the animus between the two houses, something she suggested would be removed by a match would it not?

It was strange to her, thinking about matches between her friends and others, looking around and wishing for them all to feel how she was feeling. Perhaps that was the way of the world though, you found your own happiness, and then you wished others to share it in, to feel their own so they'd know what it was that was in your heart. Or perhaps she was reading far more into other's feelings just because of her own, it vexed her that she knew not which it was.

"Ser Symond is faltering." Mya said excitedly and Elaena looked out to see that while Jon and Ser Vardis were almost feeling each other out still, Mychel had Ser Symond just about beat.

"Go on Mychel." Dom shouted loudly.

"Show him, for the Brotherhood." Waymar shouted and soon each of them was doing the same, people in the crowd looking their way and Elaena finding she cared not as she cheered both Mychel and Jon on.

When Ser Symond yielded the cheers rang out even louder and yet her attention was quickly on Jon as he moved in and out so fast that it was clear he was no longer just feeling Ser Vardis out. When the knight's sword was knocked to the ground and he yielded a moment later, Elaena's cheers rang out once more. Sansa almost matching them in their intensity as Jon and Mychel now stood face to face and the crowd began to quieten. She couldn't stop herself from laughing as rather than fight they seemed to be having a conversation, both of them then walking closer so the crowd could see them even more clearly.

They bowed to each other then took up their stances and it was as if she was watching them in one of their morning spars, rather than the final of a melee. Then all of a sudden it was not, both of them coming at each other with a ferocity she'd not seen from either before. That it was friendly was clear but they were also putting on a show, showing off yet doing so calculatingly too. Jon with his spins and leaps and Mychel with his side steps and turns. The two swords flashing in the air as each of them tried to gain the upper hand. Eventually, just like with their spars, Jon's skill told out and Elaena was on her feet shouting loudly when he took the day.

King's Landing 295 AC.

Lord Jon Arryn.

Robert was as damn frustrating as ever, the king was a petulant man child and Jon wondered how he'd not noticed it before. Was he so wrapped up in the idea of his sons that he had ignored it? Or had Robert's faults and flaws just not been so apparent to him? He was only thankful that he was to travel to Casterly Rock once more and he'd leave the crown and the Red Keep for him to run. Other than that he'd have been tearing his hair out again as he'd listened to him moan and bellyache about the fact that he was not getting yet another tourney.

A simple comment about the one being held by Lord Yohn had been enough to set him off and enough to give Jon yet another headache. In the end, he'd almost lost his temper, and his comment about having Tywin Lannister throw him a damn tourney had not gone down well. Robert glaring at him and seeming on the verge of saying something before that toady Pycelle finally woke up from his slumber at the merest mention of the old lion.

Were it not for Varys's interjection and Petyr's as well then he and Robert would no doubt have had words and he thanked them both for it. Petyr mentioning the crown's coin situation and Varys reminding the king that the queen's nameday was coming up and that he had no doubt that Lord Tywin would welcome a visit, and be sure to throw a tourney in his daughter's name. So ravens had been sent and received and he was ready now to bid farewell to a king he no longer had faith in or truly served.

"His grace is inside?" he asked Ser Meryn as he made it to the door.

"He is Lord Hand." the knight replied and Jon knocked before entering the room.

He found him inside drinking even though he'd be departing soon, Robert dressed but not dressed, and that he barely remembered their argument only showed how petulant it truly was. Jon nodded and then took a seat when bid and spent the next few moments going over things that he knew Robert barely paid attention to.

"The Kingslayer." Robert said catching him by surprise.

"Your grace?"

"Where the fuck is the Kingslayer, Jon?" Robert asked.

"I believe he's in Casterly Rock your grace, Ser Barristan and you yourself gave him leave to visit his father and brother did you not?"

"We did, moons ago and now I get this from Tywin fucking Lannister." Robert said holding up a raven scroll and Jon cursed Pycelle from withholding it from him.

He got up from his seat and walked over to the king, taking the scroll and smelling the drink on Robert's breath and trying not to sigh too loudly as he read one and tried to ignore the other.

"I'll put Varys to the task." he said after reading it.

"See that you do Jon, I may not like the fucker but if something's happened to him then I'll be dealing with fucking lion's moans for the rest of my life."

"Of course, your grace." he said turning to leave.

"Did you get the present?" Robert asked before he made it to the door.

"I did, your grace, Ser Barristan will see it is placed among your things."

"I want him to stay here, Jon, Ser Barristan, should the Kingslayer not turn up..."

"Of course, your grace." he said before leaving.

They left that day and no more than a few hours after they did Varys informed him that Ser Jaime was riding back and would be here within a day or two.

"Apparently he and the old lion had a falling out." Varys said.

"Another?" he said shaking his head as it had become a regular thing between them over Jaime's refusal to leave the Kingsguard.

"I believe this one to be far more serious and far more advantageous my lord." Varys said leaving it at that for now.

He ate his dinner that night with his wife and son, Lysa having come back from the Vale unannounced, and Jon though welcoming spending time with Robert had found her presence to be not so appealing. The truth was that he'd enjoyed his solitude far too much and listening to her snipe and make comment after comment about this or that was grating. Robert though still small and sickly was growing and when he asked about Laney, Jon felt his heart soar. He took the time to happily speak on his daughter and watched as his son smiled upon hearing of her. Lysa having not poisoned that well any further since he'd spoken out to her about the dangers to herself for doing so.

They slept apart as had become their norm, Jon finding he'd no desire to share her bed. though truth be told he doubted he had a desire to share anyones anymore. Those days were either long past or near enough that it made no difference. Waking the next morning he was happy to break his fast alone with his son and then he spent most of the day at meetings or petitions. Ser Barristan coming by to inform him of Ser Jaime's return and Jon glad that at least now they could get to the bottom of how the knight was truly feeling.

It took them a couple of days to organize a meeting, he, Barristan, Varys, and to his shock and surprise Jaime Lannister himself all meeting deep in the tunnels beneath Varys's chambers. Jon looked around and wondered just how far said tunnels stretched and if anyone other than Varys knew where they lead. Barristan he thought seemed almost excited, Varys too or as much as he ever was, and the reason for it soon became clear to him when Jaime Lannister spoke.

"I know of the king, Lord Jon, the truth of him, and my sword is his should he wish for it." Jaime said.

"Your family?" he asked.

"Are not suited to rule, the realm would suffer with my father calling the shots even more so than he already does and my sister cares for no one but herself." Jaime said bitterly.

"The children?" he said after a few moments in which he looked to see that both Varys and Ser Barristan seemed to have no doubts of Jaime's sincerity.

"Will be protected I assume? I'd seek assurances on their safety and futures, but I feel a better chance of getting them from you Lord Jon then I would if the situation was reversed and it was my father deciding." Jaime said.

"You have my word on it, Ser Jaime." he said.

"Mine too." Ser Barristan said reaching out to place a hand on the knight's shoulder.

"There is much we need to discuss Ser Jaime, many things you need to be aware of and some I'm afraid we cannot speak off." Varys said and Jaime nodded.

By the time they'd finished speaking, Jon felt certain that Jaime Lannister served the same king as he. Something which only became clearer when the raven from Runestone arrived and told of the victory he'd had in the melee. Both Barristan and Jaime smiling far more truly than he'd seen either do for many a year. He was beginning to think about further plans and on putting in place the final moves that would need to be made to make the move to take the throne, when Varys asked to meet with him. Jon once again finding himself in the tunnels below the Red Keep.

"Well?" he asked irritably.

"A wrinkle in our plans or perhaps not, I'll leave it to you to decide." Varys said.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"It seems our king wishes to pick his own bride, my lord. A match with a Great House indeed." Varys said and though he didn't titter the smile on his face was just as annoying.

"House Tyrell?" he asked hopefully.

"House Arryn." Varys said.

Runestone 295 AC.

Sansa.

The melee was terribly exciting and yet worrying at the same time, Sansa cringing when men fell only to be relieved when they rose to their feet once more. To see Jon win was incredible and she felt so very proud of her brother and was most keen to offer him her congratulations as soon as she could. Before she got a chance to though she accompanied Jeyne to the privy, her friend having drunk far too much of the sweetened berry juice that she liked so much.

She was waiting for Jeyne to finish when he approached her and Sansa had to admit she felt a flutter in her stomach when he did so. Harrold for some reason was disliked by Jon and the others but Sansa had found him to be most gallant and his blond hair and blue eyes were most appealing also. He'd asked her to dance and had asked for her favor though she'd given it to Ser Domeric by then. Yet he'd not competed in the melee and despite being a cousin of Lord Arryn's and somewhere in the line of succession of the Vale, she'd not seen much of him since the tourney had begun.

"Lady Sansa." he said reaching out and taking her hand and placing a kiss upon it.

"Lord Hardyng." she said though she wasn't sure he was actually a lord.

"Did you enjoy the tourney, my lady?" he asked and she smiled as she nodded.

"Very much so, the joust and melee were most exciting, and to see my brother claim victory was wonderful."

"As no doubt was being named the Queen of Love and Beauty, a most worthy choice that Ser Arthur made if I may be so bold." he said and she found herself blushing.

"I'm sure Ser Arthur only did so because of Jon." she said trying to be modest.

"I doubt that very much, my lady. I believe he named you so because to name another would be an affront to the crown you wore so well." Harrold said making her blush once more.

She was about to say something else when Jeyne came from the privy and then she was sure she saw a frown appear on Harrold's face when Elaena, Ysilla, and the others began walking her way.

"Perhaps you'd honor me with a dance later on, Lady Sansa?" Harrold asked and she blushed once more.

"I'd be delighted to, Lord Hardyng." she said and then he kissed her hand again before he turned and walked away.

Sansa ignored the questioning look on Jeyne's face and the curious one on Elaena's when she reached them. All of them walking back to the keep together with still no sign of Jon or Mychel, something she felt that both Elaena and Mya were put out by. As much as she wished to speak on it and to ask where her brother was, she felt it best she did not and was glad if not a little embarrassed that Jeyne decided to ask about their whereabouts.

"Are Ser Jon and Mychel not joining us?" Jeyne asked.

"Not at this time, they'll meet us later." Domeric said and Sansa looked to see if there was anything wrong.

"Are they hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"What? Oh god's know, Mychel has gone to speak to his father and Jon is with Ser Arthur and Sandor." Waymar said to her relief.

When they arrived back at the keep she made her way to her room looking to ready her things for later and was in the process of doing so when the knock came to her door. Sansa moving to answer it and finding Elaena to be waiting outside. She invited the girl in and bid her take a seat, wondering what had brought her to speak to her and once again fearing that something had actually happened to Jon.

"It's Jon isn't it, he's hurt, that's why you've come?" She said her voice panicked.

"No, Sansa, trust me, Jon is far from hurt, I swear it on the Mother." Elaena said Sansa feeling relieved as she took a seat.

"Thank the gods, I was so worried, I thought you were all hiding it from me." she said and felt Elaena take her hands in her own.

"I wished to speak to you on something else, Sansa, something important."

"Of course." she said waiting for Elaena to continue.

"Harrold Hardyng, Sansa."

"What about him?" she said defensively.

"He's not as he seems. He and Jon are far from friends and though he may come across as charming and attentive, you'll find he's very much not. I know it can be flattering to have someone show an interest in you, but you're not the first that Harrold has shown an interest in and he has a reputation for not being honorable to those he does." Elaena said and Sansa looked at her and though she believed her, she found for some reason that she lashed out.

"Or you wish him for yourself and so are trying to make me uninterested." she said before placing her hand over her mouth and shaking her head "I'm sorry, please forgive me."

"Sansa, there's nothing to forgive and I think you know where my interest truly lies." Elaena said looking at her intently.

"Jon?" she asked.

"Jon." Elaena said making her smile as she thought of them together.

"Is Harrold truly that bad?" she asked.

"Some men Sansa, boys too, they're not what they seem, the image they present to those they wish something from is not their true selves. You need to be wary of their intent, their motives, and soon you'll be able to see who is true and who is not." Elaena said.

"How?" she asked curiously.

"We have time until you leave, Ysilla, and I will show you." Elaena said with a smile.

"And Harrold?" she asked.

"Leave Harry the Arse to me." Elaena said and Sansa found herself laughing despite the rudeness of the name.

Runestone 295 AC.

Jon.

Gyles helped him out of his armor, his squire looking at him with the biggest grin on his face that he'd ever seen anyone wear. Jon wondering just exactly how much coin he'd bet or was it the idea that he was the one who'd be teaching him how to wield a sword. He soon found himself wondering how the boy would react when he found out the truth that he was squiring for a king rather than just a knight. As the last piece of armor was removed, Arthur and Sandor walked in, Jon eager to hear their opinions on the fight he'd just had. It didn't take them long to point out his errors and mistakes, to praise his performance, and yet tell him he could have done very much better. Jon listening keenly as pointers were given and he received just as many pats on the back as he did slaps to the head.

Looking to Gyles he could see his squire was glaring at both men for daring to criticize him after he'd won and he resolved to speak to the lad later about the reasons why they did so. He was just about to ready himself to head off and meet up with his friends when he saw that look in Arthur's eye that said they had more to discuss.

"Gyles, why don't you take the rest of the day, go have some fun and spend some of that coin you made." he said smiling at the young lad.

"Are you sure, Ser Jon, there isn't more I can do?" Gyles asked.

"Not for the now, I'll see you early on the morrow and we'll spar some." he said seeing the bright smile the boy gave him before he ran quickly from the tent.

"He seems a good lad." Arthur said.

"He is, keen and attentive and a far better squire than I ever was." he said and Sandor snorted.

"There's someone who wishes to meet you, Jon. I need you to do that warging thing you do and make sure the old Sept is empty and that there's no one nearby." Arthur said.

Jon did as he was asked, closing his eyes and reaching out to the bird that he'd now warged into more than once, finding it nesting and soon enough having it take flight. It took him some time to be certain and when he was he opened his eyes before giving Arthur the nod and all three of them rose and left the tent. Arthur headed to fetch who it was he was to speak to and he and Sandor carried his armor back to his room. Jon seeing Elaena, Sansa, and the others walking off in the distance as they did so.

After leaving the armor on its stand he and Sandor walked through the keep and out and down to the old Sept. Jon soon finding Arthur standing with a blue-haired man that he recognized from the melee. Looking at him he could see that he and Arthur seemed friendly enough though the man looked far more keenly at him than he did anyone else.

"Griff?" he said sure now that was not the man's name.

"Not quite."

"Jon, this is Lord Jon Connington, former Hand to the King and a friend of your father's." Arthur said and Jon found himself staring at the man and trying to take in what he'd just heard.

"I've waited a long time to see you, your grace." Jon Connington said as he dropped to a knee.

Jon looked to Arthur who nodded and to Sandor who did so too and he then turned to the man who was on his knee and nodded at him.

"I pledge my sword, my life, and my honor to his grace, King Daeron Targaryen the Third of his name. I pledge to offer him my counsel and my service from this day until the end of my days." Jon Connington said looking up to him with a look of hope and expectation in his eyes.

"And I accept your pledge, my lord. I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise, Lord Connington."

For the next two hours, he listened as Lord Connington spoke of their works in Essos, of the men they'd gathered and of how Ser Richard Lonmouth, who had been his father's squire, was also alive and on his side. He bid Arthur and Sandor leave them alone and listened as he was told tales of his father and of his regrets for not seeing the Battle of the Bells through to its end.

"I should have burned the entire damn town down." Jon Connington said.

"Had you done so then you'd have been a monster, Lord Jon, a man I'd have not spared the merest moment speaking to. The right thing may not always lead to the right results but it should always be what we seek to do. I don't believe my father would have forgiven you for such an action or for such a loss of innocent life, do you?" he said.

"Tywin Lannister would have…"

"Tywin Lannister is a monster, an evil man who will one-day face wrath and ruin, I'd not seek such a man in my service." he said firmly.

"Sometimes we have a need to do terrible things, your grace." Jon Connington said looking at him.

"But they should be the last resort my lord and not the first." he said and Jon nodded.

"They should." Jon Connington said nodding his agreement.

"I intend to take my family's throne back Lord Connington and I know it'll be a difficult task that may require difficult and hard choices, I understand that and am willing to make them but my grandfather would have made them regardless, I will not. We must be better than those who came before us and those we seek to replace." he said looking at him.

"Your father would wish it so." Jon Connington said and Jon felt his eyes close as he looked at him.

That night he prayed to the old gods and the new to allow him to keep to the words he had spoken that day, to do what was needed, and to not lose himself in the process. Though he feared that there were lines he'd need to cross to see himself upon the throne and he wondered just what those lines would be.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up next Jon Arryn deals with what Varys told him and makes a trip to the Vale to speak to Jon and Elaena. Jon speaks on the future and says goodbye to his sister before having a conversation with his friends. Tywin stews and foams over Jaime's actions and an announcement is made which has the realm in shock and some of the players scurrying as they try to make sense of it and In Dorne Oberyn and Doran speak.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Supremus: We've spoken on Theon and have our own opinions on him, I think the issue is where he's from as well as his attitude and I've said it before other than to set up the plot point later it's completely illogical to me that an Iron Born would be so accepted in the North. Glad you like the use of Jon C.

BlizzardDragon: Yes Jon, who me, no the other Jon, who me, Yes Jon, are you talking to me, no Jon, lol.

Xand007: Thank you my friend. So glad you liked it. You too, hope all is well in this crazy world we're all a part of.

Dentoldn: I think with the noble ladies there educations are all very similar and how they behave despite the differences in personality almost to a point makes them interchangeable. The biggest difference with Elaena is that she doesn't have Olenna pushing her and so it makes her just slightly different but the courtesies and behaviours are almost the same. I think with Jon and a different partner Dany brings something different to the table given her upbringing and Arianne or Val obviously would too. For me I like to mix up who he'll be with and have stories in the pipeline of him with Rhaenys, Arianne and Val.

Tata: Not sure what you mean by that, an example would be most appreciated.

Guest: Hope you liked the Jon C part, we'll see the changes truly affect Jaime from here on in.

Dunk: Cat doesn't know as of yet, it's all about timing with her, we're getting closer to her finding out though. With Viserys and Dany we'll see them soon enough, some of their story will be radically changed here. On Eleana I kinda picture Imogen Poots.

Creativo: Es lo mismo con si Jon se fue al sur en Canon, ¿no es así? Me refiero a Jon como KITN y luego tomar el trono crea el mismo problema, es simple aunque nombras un nuevo Guardián y un castellano. Después de todo, Jon Arryn era el Señor del Valle y, sin embargo, pasó casi todo su tiempo en Kl, simplemente nombró a Nestor Royce como Gran Mayordomo.

VwChick: So very glad you liked it.

Lady Octarina: He is, we'll learn more about his intent as we go, what he told Ned is the truth but not the whole truth. Oberyn will keep investigating and we'll see him in the next chapter, as for Jaime/Jon C they'll play larger roles going forward. One of the things which has annoyed me with Jon going south to foster stories is they make Jon too much well Jon, I mean he shouldn't lose what makes him Jon but the Northern aspects would change a bit depending on where he goes. Ned is incredibly influenced by going South and by the time we meet him he's spent what 15 years or so back in the North which allows for the North influence to come back, but I'd imagine if we'd have checked in on Ned at any time while he was in the Vale he was even more influenced by his time there.

Jon here left at six, is surrounded by men/boys who are or want to be knights and raised in a house that values that way of thinking, that he's kept to his religion is actually surprising but he's certainly going to think more southern. I actually really want to see Sansa sent to Dorne just once lol. Her being crowned is something she'd appreciate far more than almost anyone I think given she'd not have the chance of it in the North. Like I feel Marge has perhaps been crowned more than once giving how many tourney's Mace throws, that sounds wrong somehow lol. Sandor is just exactly that, he cuts through the BS and gets right to the point and he's someone you really would like on your side.

SlytherinQueen: Thanks so very much.

Naruto: So very glad you liked it.

Kyubbi: So glad to be of help, really happy you're liking it.

Guest: Ghost will appear around his canon time.