A/N: Jon will at times be called Ser Jon Snow, Jon Arryn and Daeron Targaryen here.
Lorath 297 AC.
Jon Snow.
He couldn't but help to take them in each time he looked at them. Every single feature they possessed was one that he had committed to memory. Viserys looked somewhat like his father according to Arthur. While Daenerys was the picture of her mother, his grandmother, right down to the way she giggled and laughed. The brief awkwardness that they had between them upon first meeting, was now long a thing of the past. They were family, they felt like family, and much to each of their delights, they now acted as such.
Hearing his name being spoken for true by someone other than Arthur or Elaena was a new experience and one he most enjoyed. Far more than being named as King or Your Grace. Especially by those who some could argue had an even bigger claim on the Iron Throne than he did. Not that either his aunt or uncle felt that way. They saw him as true and cared not whether some may disagree. His father had wed another wife just as House Targaryen had done throughout its history and dragons answered not to gods nor men, or so his uncle had said.
That it was not said to be arrogant or cocky and instead to show that he was behind him all the way, was something that he very much welcomed. As he did his aunt's surprise when he told her that he would not now nor ever force her to wed for an alliance or to someone she wished not to be joined with. Dany as she'd bid him name her had looked at him warily when she'd asked the question, only for his reply to remove her worries and doubts completely.
"I know there are those who'd bid me do so. Who'd speak on the advantages of such. Some years ago I was offered the chance to wed for an alliance rather than for what I felt in my heart. But my mother was betrothed to a man she cared not for. A man who'd have broken her spirit and robbed her of who she truly was. While her time with my father was brief, it was time spent with a man she loved for true and so no, I'd not deny my family the same choice as I've had or as my mother made. Not for the largest army in Westeros would I do so." Jon said looking at his aunt.
"I'd thought." Dany said nervously "I know more about the way of the world now than I once did, Daeron. I know alliances are what's needed and how they're formed. It is a relief to know that I'll not be forced into one, But…"
He laughed loudly catching both his aunt and uncle by surprise.
"There is a saying that my uncle is oft-heard speak, Anything before the word But, is horseshit, Dany," he said to laughs from them both.
"But, Daeron." Dany said sticking her tongue out at him and making him and Viserys laugh a little more fully "Should there be an advantageous alliance to be formed and should I deem the price one I'd pay, then I'd seek you to form such an alliance."
"You would?" Viserys asked.
"I wish to play my part in our House's restoration too, Vis," Dany said affronted.
"I know that, Dany. I just would have thought you'd…"
"There are other roles you can play other than to be wed, Dany." he said interrupting whatever Viserys was going to say "Both of you," he said looking to his uncle.
"But you'll do as I suggest?" Dany asked and he nodded, making her smile happily.
Truth be told, he wished for them both to play large roles in whatever came after he'd regained his family's throne. Viserys was accomplished with a sword and on a par with Mychel or Waymar. His uncle had learned much at Jon Connington and Ser Richard Lonmouth's sides about leading men and organizing them to fight too. During games of Cyvasse, they were evenly matched, Viserys winning as many games as he lost. Yet it was in their talk of the future that the truth of his uncle was made clear and that truth started with a confession of sorts.
"I had thought of taking these men for myself, nephew. To come here and bring them to my side. For I was my father's heir or so I believed." Viserys said as they sat and spoke after a spar.
"What changed your mind?" he asked curiously.
"Other than the thoughts of going against kin? Partly it was my sister. Dany would have not been on my side and I fear I'd not do well on my own. Mainly though it was that the more I thought about it, the less I truly wished for a crown."
"Then we have more in common than just blood, uncle," he said to a chuckle from Viserys.
"You don't wish to be king?"
"I did not. But we don't get what we wish and it's not just for the realm that I need to be so, but for our House too. You know what people say of your father, my grandfather?"
"I know," Viserys said sadly.
"It must be me, you see. For you, even Dany, they'd look to you both and see only Aerys. Not your mother, not that you're the children of Rhaella Targaryen, but you're the children of the Mad King." he said somewhat bitterly.
"Where with you they see my brother," Viserys said and Jon nodded.
"And mine own mother."
"Daeron?"
"There are those who say it's because we wed brother to sister that your father was how he was, again forgetting that your mother was from the very same line. The Usurper has done a good job in painting our House in a certain light, in reminding people of Aerion Brightflame or Maegor the Cruel and not the Conqueror or the Conciliator."
"Then it's up to us to remind them of the good our House can do is it not?" Viserys said.
"It is." he replied "I'd have you with me, uncle. Not just in the taking back of the throne, but in what comes after. I'd name you as my Hand, though it may be too soon for such, so instead, I'd see you take a seat on my Small Council, Master of Laws I think would be best to help implement the things I'd seek to change."
"You truly see me as a future Hand?" Viserys asked surprised.
"I do. Who better than family to be by my side? Who has a larger stake in seeing our House be what it once was than family?"
"I thank you, nephew and I accept wholeheartedly. Any role you wish for me to take is one I'm most happy to."
"Dany too, uncle. We need to find a role for her too."
"We will, Daeron."
Seeing his uncle and aunt interact with those closest to him was yet another boon to his heart. Dany and Elaena seemed to be well on the way to being firm friends. His aunt welcomed having a woman closer to her age than her Septa and Elaena just reveled in having another woman to name as family. Just as she had with Sansa, she'd welcomed Dany as truly and each time he looked at them laughing and japing together, it brought a lump to his throat. Viserys spent much of his time with him, Mychel and Waymar. He took lessons from Arthur and had the piss taken out of him by Sandor. Something that he took in good spirits.
His time spent with Jon Connington and Richard Lonmouth was both illuminating and in some ways exhausting. On one hand, he spoke to them both about his father as much as he could. While he had Arthur with him to tell him most of what he wished to know about his father's life, both Jon and Richard knew him somewhat differently. Jon spoke of his potential, of the plans he had for the future of the realm and their House, while Richard spoke of more personal moments. He'd squired for him and said that he saw some of his father in him when he watched him train young Gyles. Their talks on the battles and war to come though would stretch long in the night and he'd arrive back at his bed to find Elaena already sleeping.
The Company of the Sea Snake was now more than 10,000 strong. Well drilled men who had been trained as cavalrymen, archers, and infantry that both Jon Connington and Richard Lonmouth named a match for any army they'd been a part of. Added to the North and the Vale, along with the Lords of the Narrow Sea and whatever other loyalists they could bring to their side, they'd be a match for any of the armies they'd face. Though they would be outnumbered too. Dorne under Prince Oberyn would truly need to march for him and the Reach was still the wildcard.
"The Riverlands don't love Robert Baratheon, your grace." Jon Connington said as he, Richard, and Arthur looked down on the map of Westeros.
"House Tully should rise in support of the North and once they were added to the Houses that rose for my House in the Rebellion, we could then mayhap bring the entire Riverlands to my side. But the issue is as it has always been. How to do so when they get pressed from other directions." he said to nods of heads.
"You'll find no friends in the Stormlands nor the West, your grace. Together they'll be a match for us in numbers, though they'll not be easy bedfellows either." Richard said before pointing to the map "They will have trouble joining their numbers too."
"More so than we," Arthur added pointing to the crossroads.
"The Reach it is then," he said looking at the three men.
"House Tyrell will want a crown, your grace." Jon Connington said looking at him.
"I know. I need to speak with my uncle."
"Your grace?"
"Dorne or the Reach, I need to speak to Viserys to see his thoughts on either."
"You plan to offer a betrothal?" Richard asked.
"I've told my aunt I'd not offer her hand without her consent, I need to speak to my uncle and learn his mind on his own future in this regard. I've offered him a place on my Small Council which he's accepted, and in time he'll be Hand of the King. A son or daughter of his or Dany's could one day be wed to one of mine own, could they not?"
"They could." Jon Connington happily.
"Doran will wish for the same, your grace." Arthur reminded him though he knew that already.
"Which is why I need to know Viserys' mind on this."
They spoke then on tactics, and plans. They discarded some ideas and took note of others. All the while they skirted around the real question until they did not.
"When?" Jon Connington asked.
"A year more or less. I need to speak with Prince Oberyn, my uncle Ned and whomever we decide in the Reach. We must firm up or alliances before deciding our campaign for true."
"And how do we create the conditions for the war itself, your grace?" Ser Richard asked.
"We reveal my truth, Ser Richard. Once we do so, then war is inevitable is it not?" he asked and found only agreement in the eyes of all three men.
Time moved quickly after that. He spent more time with Elaena and in his aunt and uncle's company. Viserys had told him that he had no true preference. He'd japed with him about his future wife and confided in him that he was happier it was him rather than Dany that was being wed for politics. He'd told his uncle that he wished it was not so. That he'd not force him into such a match against his will. But his apologies had been waved off.
"'Tis the way of the world, nephew. Do you think had things been different and our family lived that we'd have wed for love?"
"I hate that I got to and am now denying someone else leave to do the same, uncle."
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, your grace. Far better it on a man who has love in his marriage than one who is unhappy in it."
"I pray you find it in yours too, uncle."
When it came time to say goodbye, it was even harder than he'd expected it to be. Very quickly he'd come to see his uncle and aunt as what they were, family. Other than Aemon, they were the last three members of a House that had traveled all the way from Valyria to Westeros. A House that had forged seven kingdoms into one and had known what it was like to own the skies above them. True they'd have some terrible kings during their long reign, but they'd had some truly good ones too and it now fell onto their young shoulders to see their House regain all it had lost. Not only that, it fell upon all three of them to see their House's numbers increase. To bring children into this world, and to create the conditions for those children to thrive. It was a responsibility that none of them took lightly.
"Will we see each other before…." Dany asked and he shook his head.
"No, but afterward we'll see each other much, Dany. You, me, Viserys, we'll be a true family," he said as he embraced her, feeling her arms wrap around him tightly.
"I'll be ready when you call, nephew," Viserys said as they too embraced.
"It comforts me to know it, uncle. Truly it does."
Elaena said her own goodbyes and she and Dany spoke softly to each other for some time. He'd spoken to Jon Connington and Ser Richard and the former would make his way to the Vale sometime in the next year to firm up their plans. They, Varys, Lord Jon, all of them would by then hopefully know what those plans actually were.
As he stood on the deck, he watched Lorath fade from view and looked down to see Winter and Frost beside him. Sandor stood at his back and neither of them heard Elaena as she walked toward them. It was her taking his hand in her own and leaning her head on his shoulder that alerted him to her presence and when he turned to look at her, he could see the concern she felt for him in her eyes. Offering her his warmest smile, he was happy to see that concern alleviated somewhat.
"You'll see them again, my love."
"We'll see them again," he said as they turned and walked to the stairs that led to the cabins below.
The Narrow Sea 297 AC.
Dany.
After she'd said her goodbyes to her brother, she and Septa Lemore had made their way to the ship and set sail for Pentos. Sad as she was to be leaving Viserys once again, she was excited too. They were growing ever closer to taking back the throne that was stolen from her family and paying back those who'd done so. Soon enough, it would be Westeros and King's Landing that she'd be sailing to and in time she'd see Dragonstone for true. As she settled into her cabin for the night, she reflected upon her trip to Lorath, her brother and her nephew, and his new wife. Dany's thoughts brought a smile to her face as she laid her head down on her pillow.
She'd been stunned that her nephew had come to visit and so relieved that she'd been in Lorath with Viserys when he did so. The thoughts that he'd have gone there and she'd still have been in Pentos when he arrived were ones that Daeron had dismissed quickly. Her nephew soon told her that had she not been in Lorath with her brother then he'd have stopped off in Pentos too. That he had wished to see not only Viserys but her as well had been a surprise and yet not to her. Her conversations with him had shown that he considered her just as much a part of his family as he did Viserys, and just as important.
Yet she had disagreed with him somewhat too. Though more so after he'd left than before he did so. Dany had found she liked his wife as much as she did her nephew. Her new Goodniece was almost of an age with her and along with her friends had somewhat shown her what it was like to be a young woman. They spoke of things that she'd not yet encountered in her life and things that she very much wished to. Of men seeking her favor, od tourneys, and balls. Of spending time with other women, and most excitingly of all, making plans for the future.
She'd found that Elena was just as involved with her nephew's plans as anyone was. Even if it was more the politics and what came next rather than the actual war plans. When she'd asked her, Elaena had talked in depth about the great houses of Westeros. Dany had asked many questions and very quickly her new Goodniece had figured out her intent. Something that she was not shy in bringing up and in finding her true thoughts on.
"The Lannisters have no true rivals in the West do they not?" Dany asked as Elaena brushed her hair, something that the two of them had made a little morning ritual out of.
"No. Lord Tywin saw to that when he wiped out two houses in one swoop," Elaena replied.
"The Rains of Castamere." Dany said and Elaena nodded and looked surprised "My Septa has helped me greatly with knowledge of Westeros." she added to stop the question that may come.
"It was a terrible act but it gained Lord Tywin a reputation that has only grown in time. There is not one House in the West that would dare rise up against him and the Lannisters as a family are quite large too. There are many cousins and lesser branches."
"And the Riverlands, is there anyone stronger than House Tully?" she asked.
"In terms of men, there are. But Lord Hoster forged close ties with two Wardens. Lord Stark and mine own father." Elaena said and there was something about how her expression looked in the looking glass that showed she was not best pleased with the latter of those two. Dany then remembered that her Goodstepmother was a Tully and so decided not to labor the point.
"The Reach, I know of House Tyrell but were there not other Houses Leal to mine own?"
"Many. There were Houses even in the Vale that supported yours over even mine own, Dany. Gyles, Daeron's squire comes from House Grafton, they remained Leal and even fought against my…"
"I…we don't need to speak more on this if you don't wish to," she said only for Elaena to shake her head.
"No, it's in the past. My father is fully behind Daeron now and while my House and yours were on opposite sides in the Rebellion, the reasons for both were good and true." Elaena said, "Now where were we, ah, the Reach."
She had listened carefully as Elaena had spoken of the familial ties within the Reach, of how the Tyrells, Hightowers, Redwynes, and Fossoways were tied by the bonds of marriage. Of how House Tarly may be the strongest in terms of men but House Tyrell, House Hightower, and House Redwyne would be close behind them and would be stronger in terms of coin and influence. Elaena spoke of House Ashford and Rowan and how they were among the many who still were Leal to her House above all others.
When she bid her to, Elaena then spoke on Dorne, and eventually, they spoke then on which Houses had sons and which had daughters of an age with her and Viserys. Her Goodniece, just as he nephew had before her, went to great pains to tell her that she would not need to be wed for an alliance and while Dany welcomed hearing it, both of them had not truly asked her what it as she wished to do. They'd assumed that she valued the option to make her own choice above all and while she did value it, she didn't value it above all else. Something that she'd confided in with Viserys before she'd left Lorath.
"I believe our nephew thinks on his mother most of all, and even on our own, Dany," Viserys said after she'd spoken her thoughts to him, the two of them sitting out in the morning sun and enjoying the warmth of it on their faces.
"I don't understand," she said confused.
"Daeron didn't tell you the truth about his mother?" Viserys asked sounding surprised.
"No, he did, but mother?"
"Oh." Viserys said softly "He and Ser Arthur told me a tale of Jenny of Oldstones." Dany looked at her brother even more confused now and was glad that he continued quickly "She was wed to Prince Duncan, the Prince of Dragonflies."
"You're making this up." she giggled only for her brother to shake his head.
"No I swear, ask you Septa if you don't believe me." Viserys said and so she told him that she did and bid him continue "Prince Duncan was our Great-Uncle, the son of Aegon the Unlikely, and he had been set to wed a daughter of House Baratheon. But while traveling through the Riverlands he met and fell in love with a woman of no true House. Refusing to give her up, he forwent the Iron Throne and wed his Jenny instead."
"He did?" she asked smiling at the thoughts of such.
"He did." Viserys too was smiling and then he was very much not "When she arrived at court after she and Prince Duncan had wed, Jenny brought a woman with her a woman she named a Child of the Forest. This woman spoke a prophecy that the Prince that was Promised would come from the line of our father and mother. A prophecy that our grandfather believed in so much that he announced that father and mother were to wed and Ser Arthur, Lord Jon, and Ser Richard have all told me that it was far from a happy marriage on mother's part."
"Magister Illyrio and Septa Lemore have spoken the same to me," she said sadly.
"I fear it's true and I find myself hating father even more because of it," Viserys said angrily and Dany knew just how hard it was for him to say so as he'd always thought of their father in a certain way. Her brother would let no man dare speak against him and had taken it hard upon learning the truth of him, as had she.
"So Daeron wishes me not to suffer the same fate?" she asked after a few moments of silence where she reached out and took Viserys hand in hers "What of you?"
"It's different for men, Dany. You know it is." Viserys said and she of course knew he was speaking true.
"So where? Who?"
"Probably Dorne if Prince Doran agrees. The Reach if not."
"Would a princess not be better for Dorne than a prince?" she asked and Viserys looked at her and shook his head "What if it was what I wished for?"
"Dany…"
"I want to play my part too, brother," she said determinedly.
They'd not truly resolved it between themselves before she left. Her brother had said he'd speak to Jon Connington and have him stop off in Pentos before he traveled to meet with their nephew in a few moon's time. Dany had found herself dreaming of large sand dunes and then of green and pleasant lands. Of a tanned dark-haired young man and of one who was brown of hair and eye. She dreamt of riding a sand steed through the desert at night, running through fields of flowers, and of plucking fruit from nearby trees and bushes.
When she woke the next morning, she felt refreshed and somewhat resolved. Whichever House that her nephew made an agreement for Viserys with, she'd accept the other. The Reach or Dorne, both would hold delights that she could and would savor and this was her choice to make not theirs or anybody elses.
Gulltown/Runestone 297 AC.
Gyles Grafton.
It had taken him some time to get used to sailing. His first trip had brought on terrible sickness of the sea and so he'd liked it not. Nor was he able to properly spar with Ser Jon when they were aboard a ship either, which annoyed him greatly. For not only had he had the good fortune to be squired with the famed Mountain Wolf, something which in of itself would make his own knighting mean that much more, but he'd then be made privy to the largest secret in the entire realm. Jon Snow was not the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark as everyone believed him to be, but the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen. He was the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and he, Gyles Grafton, was his squire.
Daeron Targaryen had told him the secret himself after one of their days sparring. The two of them were sitting together and laughing and japing as they were oft wont to do when he'd then been told a secret that should it out, would put so many lives in danger. He'd immediately dropped to a knee and pledged himself to the true king. He'd promised to keep the secret even on the pain of death and then had found himself chuckling as Ser Jon, Daeron, his king, japed that a simple "I'm with you" would have sufficed.
Since then, he'd kept to his word, and very soon after he'd been told, things had somewhat gone back to normal between them. Or as normal as they could ever be when one of you was a hidden king and the other was that king's squire. There had been times when someone would look at or speak something about Ser Jon that would raise his ire, especially as he knew the truth about him. Yet he had made a solemn vow and so he held his tongue. Defending Ser Jon Snow or Arryn was he was now named instead of King Daeron Targaryen and he'd even been complimented by Sandor Clegane for doing so. Something which was rare and had it come from anyone else's lips then it may not have seemed much of a compliment. To Gyles, it had meant as much as if it was from his king or Ser Arthur Dayne.
"You do have some hair on your balls, don't ya," Sandor said.
Even putting aside the fact that he now squired for the future king, just being Ser Jon's squire had been an adventure in of itself. He was being trained by the best sword of his age in the Seven Kingdoms. A man who at just three years older than he was now had fought and killed men. Ser Jon had saved the lives of the Warden of the East and his daughter in the process. Now each and every morning that he awoke, he took lessons in swordplay and other weapons from that man. He sparred with him, watched and took notes as Ser Jon and Sandor or Ser Arthur sparred together, and even had some lessons with the other two men too.
Gyles had gone from a small skinny boy, into a growing lad, and though not yet one and ten, he was as good if not better than some of the older squires. Ser Jon was not remiss in his other lessons either. He insisted that Gyles polished his mind as much as his sword skills. He had taught him how to ride a horse better than his father's Masters of Horse or Arms ever could. There had even been dancing lessons much to Gyles' embarrassment. His words of protest all fell on deaf ears and in the end, he'd come to enjoy those too.
Yet it was the traveling that truly opened his eyes. He'd been to tourneys in King's Landing. One where Ser Jon had competed and one where he did not and so it was others who took the day. They'd traveled to the North and he'd seen Winterfell. The great keep that had stood for thousands of years and been home to the Starks for all of them had been as impressive to see for true as it had in images he'd seen of it in books. Gyles had most enjoyed his time there, showing off his skills, following after his king, and being a true squire each and every day. Not that he wasn't one when they stayed in Runestone. But being on the open road, camping each night, and then being welcomed to a great keep made it feel even more true to him.
After the wedding in King's Landing and just when he'd thought there was little left for him to experience when it came to traveling, he'd found it was to Essos and not to the Vale they were headed. Something which had confused him greatly. For while they had celebrated the wedding and the tourney, it had become clear to him that both Ser Jon and Lady Elaena wished to be back in Runestone and to begin to look to the future seat, briefly though they'd sit it. Yet again it was Ser Jon who called him to one side and explained why they were taking a different route home.
"There is family of mine I must speak to, Gyles. Family from the other side of my blood."
"Your aunt and uncle, Ser Jon?" he asked though he knew it could only be they.
"Yes. What you see next, Gyles, what you see on this trip, as with my other secrets this one is both dangerous and one I entrust to you." Ser Jon said and Gyles felt himself swell up a little in pride.
"And I shall guard it with my life," he said firmly before he felt a hand mussing his hair and he chuckled at the words that Ser Jon spoke.
"Guard it with your sword, Gyles, then you'll have no fear for your life for there are few who'll match you one day."
The Targaryens had been exactly as he'd read about. Unlike Ser Jon's dark hair, theirs was silver. Their eyes while incredible looking, the princess' especially, somewhat paled to Gyles' mind as he'd always thought Ser Jon's purple ones to be unlike anything he'd ever seen before. He'd spent time with them both while serving his knight and had talked to the princess, who he had found to be incredibly sweet and charming. Seeing the sheer number of men at arms they had around them, two things had quickly become clear to him. Both of them were completely safe from the men that King Robert had sent after them and these men were not simply formed to protect their lives. This was part of the army that would bring his king a crown and things began to feel even more true for him from that point forward.
Sailing back to the Vale, he'd thought he'd experienced all that he was to on this trip. Only to find out he was very wrong. The sound of the wolf's howls was louder than the wind. Both Winter and Frost howled long through the night and though he'd tried to gain access to Ser Jon's cabin, Sandor and Ser Arthur had refused him leave to do so. Were it not for Ser Jon coming and asking for water, cloth, and food to be brought for the wolves, then he'd not have been there when the white one was birthed. As it turned out, he had entered the cabin carrying food for the wolves just as the last of them was born. Gyles found himself looking on in amazement as both Winter and Frost cleaned the white fur and it took him some time to see the other five wolf pups suckling at their mother's teats.
"Six wolves, Ser Jon, you have five siblings do you not?" he said after he'd fed the proud mother and father of the new pack.
"You would have him gift them to his siblings, Gyles?" Lady Elaena asked curiously.
"Should their mother and father wish it, my lady," he said stuttering somewhat as he always did when around Lady Elaena.
"Mayhap we'll give them some time with them before we make such choices, eh Gyles, what say you?" Ser Jon asked.
"Of course, Ser Jon."
When he went to his bed that night, he was certain that was what was to happen and he wondered if they'd be traveling to the North once more in the near future. While in a way he hoped so, he wished they'd not too. Gyles found much to his surprise that he'd quite like to not travel for some time to come. Yet turning over and pulling his blanket up to cover him, he then fell to sleep with dreams of travels and adventures to come. Dreams of standing by his king's side, not as his squire, but while wearing a white cloak and guarding his back as well as his secrets.
Runestone 297/298 AC (four moons later).
Jon Arryn.
Though it had been mere moons since he'd last seen Elaena, he had counted the days until he got the chance to do so again. Watching Robert drink and whore while racking up incredible debts was almost soul-destroying. To know that he had played such a big part in placing him on the Iron Throne had even given him some pause about what he was planning to do with his Goodson. Though even if both Robert and Ser Jon were warriors of some repute while at the same age, that was truly where the similarities lay, and he thanked the Seven for that.
Since the wedding, he'd received letters from his daughter and from her new husband, from Yohn Royce, and even from some of the other Lords and Ladies of the Vale. Though neither Elaena nor Ser Jon had any true role within the Vale, both did more with the running of it than he or Lysa did. While they'd ostensibly not yet moved away from Runestone and had instead been given a larger set of rooms and a small household within Lord Yohn's won, they split their time between there and the Eyrie as well. Elaena served as Lady of the Vale and Ser Jon almost as its Warden in Lysa and his own absence. Something that his wife was not best pleased with, but something that he believed would help him in time in regards to their son. The reports he received of their administration were most favorable and once again showed just how different Ser Jon and Robert were. One of them at least seemed willing to put in the time and effort to actually rule and he kept only to his wife's bed too.
As he neared Gulltown, he found himself excited once more. His old enthusiasm which was so lacking when he served Robert, now returned at the thoughts of serving a much different king. Though truth be told, it was as it always was when he made these visits, thoughts of seeing his daughter once again that truly lightened his heart. Soon enough he was smiling broadly upon seeing the welcoming party that was waiting for him at the docks. Ser Arthur Dayne, Sandor Clegane, Ser Waymar Royce, and Ser Mychel Redfort along with his Goodson who seemed most pleased to see him. By the time he disembarked, he was more than ready for a day's ride and so after greeting each of those who had waited for him, they set off.
"Things are well, Ser Jon? Between Elaena and yourself?" he asked as he rode beside his Goodson.
"More than well, Lord Jon. I only hope that my wife feels as happy as I do each day I wake." Ser Jon said smiling truly.
"I'm sure she does, Ser Jon, her letters to me share no thoughts of unhappiness."
"I am most pleased to hear it, my lord. It would devastate me to cause my wife any sorrow."
He didn't need to look at the younger man to know that the truth of what he had just said was there in his expression. Had Ser Jon wished for another bride then he could have chosen a daughter from any one of the great houses. Varys and he himself had wished for him to seek Margaery Tyrell as a bride so as to make the ascent to the Iron Throne easier, and it had been Ser Jon himself who'd denied them leave to make the approach. Just as with Elaena herself, their match had been the only one that he wished for, and to see even after it had occurred that there was no change in those wishes, was heartening.
"And things in the Vale?" he asked a few moments later.
"There was some trouble with the Black Ears and the Moon Brothers, but Waymar, Mychel and Ser Arthur, Sandor and I along with some of Lord Yohn and Lord Horton's men soon saw to it. Other than that it's been quiet, my lord. Elaena did have some ideas she wished to speak to you on however, some trading opportunities she has been working on since our return from Essos." Ser Jon said.
"Indeed." he nodded, having read some of his daughter's proposals and given her leave to see to them already "And your time in Essos?" he asked curiously.
"Enlightening, my lord."
As they rode, Ser Jon spoke of his family in Essos and of the Company of the Sea Snake. The sheer size and scope of the company and its capacities surprised even him. He and Varys along with Ser Barristan had discussed them as often as they could and yet other than Varys, none of them had seen them truly. Varys for all his strengths and gifts was not a military man and so hearing it from someone more martially inclined, now really brought home just how impressive they were. Larger than any single House in Westeros and far more skilled than any other than mayhaps the Lannisters, they would be a force to reckon with when unleashed in battle. Along with the Vale and the North, with the Riverlords and the rest of the Lords of the Narrow Sea, if they could time it right, then none would be able to truly stand against them.
Listening to Ser Jon speak not just of the Company but of Dorne and even the Reach, much to his delight, he began to feel that the removal of Robert and the Lannisters may turn out to be even easier than he hoped. Or mayhap he was praying that it would. For he wasn't certain he had a true military campaign left in him and the thoughts of actually fighting against Robert were ones that he still had trouble with. A wastrel, whoremonger, terrible father, and even worse king. His foster son was all of those things and more, and yet he'd be a liar if he said there was no love left in his heart for Robert still.
"My lord, are you well?" Ser Jon asked worriedly.
"What? Oh, forgive me, Ser Jon, the sea journey must have taken more out of me than I expected." he lied.
"We'll rest here, my lord. Give you some time to stretch your legs. Mayhap we take a bite to eat and some fresh water from the stream?" Ser Jon said and before he had a chance to tell him that he was well enough to continue they had stopped. A few moments later as he drank down the cool water from the stream, he actually felt they were right to do so.
They arrived at Runestone within a few more hours and he almost jumped down off his horse to greet his daughter. Elaena was now, even more, the picture of her mother and he wondered if Yohn had as much difficulty as he did when he looked at her. Yohn's own daughter Ysilla had grown to be just as fine a lady and he wondered who his friend had in mind for a match with her. If he'd not yet decided, then mayhap he, Ser Jon, and Lord Yohn himself would need to discuss it. Given who his ward had been, his daughter's prospects had certainly improved. For now, he ignored these thoughts and even managed to not notice that there were three wolves where once there had only been two. The small white wolf had moved silently next to its mother and father and later he'd think that was why he'd noticed it.
"Laeny," he said kissing both his daughter's cheeks and then embracing her tightly.
"It's so good to see you father, so very good."
"You too, my love. Truly it is."
Both of them took the other in before he then greeted Lord Yohn, Lady Yara, and Lady Ysilla. Elaena herself escorted him to his rooms and Ser Jon allowed them some time alone before joining them. As with Ser Jon, he asked his daughter if she too was happy with her married life and was overjoyed by her response. Not only in her words but in how she expressed them. Even the look on her face as she did so was enough to let him know she was speaking the truth.
They feasted that night and if he still had any doubts about how happy his daughter and Goodson were, then seeing them together would remove them completely. While neither ignored anyone else's presence and both of them spoke much and often to him, Elaena even more so than Ser Jon, it was clear that their happiest time was when they were together. Be it when they danced, which they did more than once, as one or the other spoke softly into the other's ear, or with the hidden touches and not so hidden kisses they shared.
When it came time for him to go to his bed, he did so with far fewer doubts that he was on the right path in regard to the Iron Throne than he had since he left King's Landing. So much so that he brought forward his plans to speak to Ser Jon and Ser Arthur to the next few days rather than to when they left for Eyrie as he'd originally decided. So after spending an entire day mostly in his daughter's company. it was two days after arriving in Runestone, that he, Ser Jon, Ser Arthur, and Sandor Clegane along with the white wolf who he'd found out had been named Ghost, all met in the old Sept to discuss their plans for war.
One moon later.
Once again he was on a ship, this time leaving the Vale rather than sailing to it. He felt young again, fit and virile and ready for what was soon to come. Plans had been made and some had been discarded or changed. Things had been set in motion and a timetable had been agreed upon. Soon offers would be made to Dorne and in time to the Reach too. Yet as much as it was thoughts of war and a change of regime that his mind was filled with, it was thoughts of family too.
His daughter had not only her mother's looks but her wit and intelligence as well. Her plans for the Vale were extensive and he'd found no faults in any of them. She had used what she'd learned about Essos from her trip there with her husband and added to Illyrio Mopatis' connections, she would see the Vale gain greatly. Something which had endeared her to the Lords and Ladies of the Vale as much as Ser Jon's exploits had done so for him. To see her do the same for the realm at large was proof enough that the gods know far better than men. For he doubted there was any lady in the land who would wear the crown as well as she.
Were that not enough to make him hopeful for the future, then there was the news she'd shared with him as he'd been leaving. The whispered words had filled him with a joy that he'd known few times in his life. Their line would live on not just through his son, but through a grandson or granddaughter too. Elaena was with child and in time he'd be celebrating the birth of a new babe and though he was somewhat fearful for her going through the birthing process, for now, he allowed his thoughts instead to be far more hopeful.
Watching as Gulltown faded from view, he found himself thinking about the immediate things he must put in place. The first of those being the fostering of his son. He'd agreed with Ser Jon and Elaena that it indeed should be Runestone that his son should foster at. Waymar had agreed to take young Robert as his squire and he would serve alongside Gyles Grafton and next to his goodbrother. Seeing how much the young lord of Gulltown had come on from Ser Jon, Ser Arthur, Sandor, and the Brotherhood's tutelage had made him believe that his son too could benefit greatly from the same. His son needed to learn, to become a man, a good man and true and future Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East, and that had to start sooner rather than later. Lysa and he would no doubt argue when he told her his decision, but in truth, it was one he'd made moons earlier. It was time now for his will to be carried out in regards to his son. For soon enough it would be in regards to the Iron Throne itself.
Winterfell 298 AC.
Ned Stark.
He'd been shocked to see what Robert had become. Jon Arryn had told him, others had too, but seeing him at his nephew's wedding had truly brought it home to him. Never could he have imagined that he'd allow himself to fall so truly. Robert had always had a voracious appetite for all that life offered. Wine, Women, Song, Feasts, and Tourneys, since they were boys together in the Vale ever had it been so.
Yet, he'd kept himself in shape and had sparred daily. He'd actually reveled as much while wielding his hammer in the yard as he had while bedding a new woman or drinking until he was deep in his cups. Not once while they had been together in King's Landing had he even set foot in the sparring yard. Oh, he'd gone and watched younger men do so. Robert had spoken loudly and often about his own exploits and had grown wistful over battles fought many years earlier. When it came to talking of his Ned's nephew, he'd spoken of Jon as the Warrior Reborn. Which had sent a shiver down Ned's spine as there had been a time when people had named Robert so.
It was the dishonor he showed his wife though, that Ned truly couldn't abide. Each feast they attended would find Robert groping a servant or worse and not even at Jon and Elaena's wedding did he limit his debauchery. Ned later having found out that he'd bedded two whores that night. One during the feast itself and another just after it. He'd bid him break the betrothal between Sansa and Ser Domeric too, something that Ned had been angered at. Though it was his suggestion of a betrothal between Prince Joffrey and Arya that had nearly made him lose his composure. Ned then came as close to lying as he had on anything other than Jon for many years.
"She's not a beauty like her sister, but she has a certain charm and spirit. What say you, Ned?"
"Robert?"
"Damn it, Ned. A betrothal, I'm offering to make your youngest girl a queen for fuck's sake."
"Arya, you want a betrothal with Arya?" he asked while biting his tongue.
"I do, what say you?"
By the gods had he wanted to say no. To stand up and say he'd never wed his daughter to a man like Prince Joffrey was on the way to becoming. Instead, he'd bit his tongue, named her as too young, and had been forced somewhat to agree to revisit it in a few years' time when she was of the age that Sansa was now. He could put it off no further than that as to do so would be to risk questions that he didn't wish to answer.
Jon had sworn they would move by then, that he'd not allow it to come to pass, and Ned was both relieved and concerned by this at the same time. The closer they actually got to moving for the throne was the closer they edged to war and he'd not wished to fight another war in his lifetime. Though this would be one that the North was far more able to wage than any it had in generations. Their trade deals with Magister Illyrio had seen to that and as Ned looked over the books, he smiled at the thought that Winterfell and the North were in their best state in years. He was smiling still when the knock came on the door.
"Ned, Ser Domeric approaches," Cat said and he nodded, closed the books, and rose to his feet.
They'd received word from Runestone that Ser Domeric would be traveling to Winterfell and that he bore gifts for the children from their brother. Both he and Cat had welcomed reading the words that Jon had written. Seeing that he still named their children brothers and sisters even after he'd traveled to see family from the other side of his blood. A part of him had feared that the closer they got to Jon taking back his family's throne, the less he'd think of himself as a Stark and the more he'd consider himself a Targaryen. It had been hard enough for him to accept that he was an uncle, not a father, he had no wish for his children to be thought of as cousins and not siblings. But the letter from Jon had proved those fears false.
He was not surprised at what he saw and he caught Cat's smirk as they arrived in the courtyard to find Sansa was already there waiting for her betrothed. His daughter's own hopeful smile as she looked to the gates showed that in their match at least he'd done the right thing.
"Were she not such a lady and had more of his sister in her, then she'd be running to the very gates themselves," Cat said with a small laugh as they walked over to join their daughter.
"Don't speak too soon, Cat, for our eldest daughter is just as much a wolf as our youngest," he said to a fuller laugh only for Arya to then come running covered in mud and prove him somewhat wrong, Cat's raised eyebrow at him almost making him laugh out loud too.
Robb, Bran, and Rickon all arrived along with some of those they fostered with. He'd wished his family close by after they'd come back from King's Landing and had much enjoyed the time spent with each of them. Ned had felt almost a call from somewhere that told him the pack needed to be together for some reason and as Ser Domeric and his men rode in through the gates, he was about to find out what that reason was. Though he knew it not.
With a glance at Sansa, he nudged Cat with his shoulder, and how she kept her composure he knew not. Their daughter was like a horse about to bold. Sansa was standing on the tips of her toes and he was certain that if he was to make a loud sound, then she'd set off before he was done. Her eyes were only on her betrothed and he saw her brow crease and the frown that appeared on her face when rather than come to them directly, it was to a cart that Ser Domeric moved first before he then greeted them all.
"Winterfell greets you warmly, Ser Domeric," Ned said as the young man stood in front of him.
"I thank you, Lord Stark." Domeric said before he kissed Cat's hand and then moved to Sansa "My lady, it pleases me to see you so well."
"As it does me, you, Ser Domeric. Sansa said as her hand and then her cheek was kissed.
"I bring gifts from the Mountain Wolf." Ser Domeric said loudly as he then moved away from Sansa and Ned wondered why he was making such a show of things "Gifts for the sons and daughters of House Stark. Gifts from the Old Gods themselves."
Around the courtyard, people had stopped what they were doing and Ned saw Ser Rodrik and Vayon Poole among others look curiously at Ser Domeric as he moved back to the cart. Then he, they, and especially his children looked on in disbelief as Ser Domeric and his men reached in and took out five what looked to be balls of fur and were soon revealed to be Direwolf pups.
"Winter and Frost's children, Lord Stark, Gifts for your own."
Cat looked from him to the wolves and as he nodded his head, he watched as first Sansa, then Robb, Arya, Bran, and finally Rickon were each handed a Direwolf pup. Had both he and Cat not seen Winter and Frost with Jon then one or either of them may have spoken up or tried to deny them. Yet it was the idea that each of their children would be protected as Jon was when he was with Winter and Frost. As much as the idea of a Stark with a symbol of their House. A gift from the Old Gods as Ser Domeric had named them. The mere idea of it all was enough to make him swell in pride somewhat.
"You will train them yourselves, raise them yourselves, and if they die, you will bury them yourselves, am I clear?" he said trying to sound firm.
"Aye, Father," Robb replied as he held his wolf in his hands.
"She won't die," Sansa said firmly.
"Nymeria, I'll name you Nymeria," Arya said happily and he doubted she'd even heard his words.
Shaking his head, he bid Ser Domeric join him and was surprised that Sansa wasn't put out that her betrothed walked with him and not her. His oldest daughter was just like her sister and was completely enamored with the Direwolf pup that she held in her arms and for now, not even her betrothed couldn't compete.
"I think you should slap my nephew when next you see him, Ser Domeric." he japed as they walked.
"My Lord?"
"He's just gifted your betrothed something I doubt you'll ever find a match for," he said and Domeric looked at him before chuckling.
"Aye, I shall thank the Old Gods that he's her brother and not a rival for her affections then."
When they reached his solar they spoke on much and little. Jon and Elaena were well and had enjoyed their trip to Essos. Both were settling into new roles in the Vale and Domeric had delayed a visit to the North at Jon's behest. The wolves' birth was the reason Ned surmised. While he'd stay a week or more, Domeric would be traveling to the Dreadfort before then returning to the Vale. Ned then listened keenly as the young man swore that he'd act honorably with Sansa while here and that he would do nothing to make anyone question her purity. There was no see for such a promise, and yet Ned welcomed it too.
After they'd caught up, he bid the young man go and refresh himself and while there would be no feast as such, there would be a more formal dinner that night than normal. It turned out he was somewhat wrong too in his assessment of Sansa's attention lying with her pup too. For later that night when Domeric played his harp and sang, Sansa at least split her attentions between her wolf and her betrothed. Robb had named his pup, Grey Wind, and Rickon had named his black wolf, Shaggy Dog, Arya had her Nymeria, and Bran was still undecided. Sansa had surprised them all and named her pup Lya after his sister and Jon's mother unbeknownst to her.
The week that Domeric stayed with them seemed to pass far too quickly. Each of the wolves had settled in and just looking at them with his children would bring a smile to Ned's face. They all seemed to take some traits from whichever of his children looked after them. Nymeria was fierce and Shaggy Dog somewhat wild, Bran's unnamed pup was thoughtful, while Robb's was regal. Sansa's pup was both ladylike and possessed a sharp bite when provoked which much reminded him of Lyanna. Their growth stunned him, as they were already each the size of small dogs and his youngest children could no longer lift them in their arms. Most impressively of all though was how close they stuck to each of his children. So close that he had gotten Cat to agree to allow them to sleep in their rooms with them if they so wished. Something all of them it turned out did, even Sansa to Cat's surprise.
When the time came for him to depart, he gave Domeric a letter for Jon and bid him to wish his nephew and his wife all his best. Cat and Sansa both sent gifts to thank Jon for his own and he watched as, for the first time since Domeric's arrival, Sansa shed some tears and looked unhappy. Later after Domeric had left, he found his daughter sitting on the window seat and looking despondent and so he moved to offer her what comfort he could, only for Lya to beat him to it. Ned stood and stared as the wolf licked his daughter's face more than once and how after a while her attentions seem to do the trick. Sansa was soon laughing and japing as the wolf barked and growled happily at her.
"Gifts from the Old Gods indeed," he said softly as he slipped away unnoticed.
A moon later.
Life had become a routine once more. He and Robb along with some of those fostering at Winterfell had ridden out to take the life of a man who'd deserted the Watch. His words had seemed mad and crazed to Ned's mind and yet he'd sent word to Benjen to speak to him on them. Trade was up and news had come that his nephew was to be a father, something that he welcomed though it did bring back memories that he'd had wished never to have to think on again. A bloodstained bed in a tower in Dorne filled his dreams for a few days after the raven had arrived.
He was sitting in the Godswood, his mind was at peace as he swept the cloth up and down Ice's silvery blade when he heard the footsteps. Turning he almost rose to his feet upon seeing the look on Cat's face, his mind going to the very worst of places, and yet never did he make it to the true pain he'd feel at the words she'd then speak.
"My love, a raven from King's Landing." Cat said shakily "Jon Arryn is dead."
He heard it, felt the pain in his heart as if he'd been stabbed by an unseen knife, and were it not for the look on his wife's face naming it as true, then he may have tried to deny it. Doing his best to compose himself, he thought of Lysa and young Robert, knowing that Cat may worry for them as much as he may grieve for his foster father.
"Lysa, your nephew?" he asked worriedly.
"Are both well, Ned." Cat said and he rose and hugged her tightly "There's more, Ned. King Robert is coming to Winterfell, they've already left."
The wind seemed to pick up and the leaves above him in the Heart Tree began to rattle and blow. Around him, he swore he could hear voices and so it took him some time to realize the truth of why Robert was coming, and when he did, he found he had no idea what to do. Walking back to the keep, he found his thoughts split between his nephew and the plans they'd made, and his foster father and the times they'd shared together. Tonight he'd mourn the one and on the morrow, he'd try to find out the mind of the other.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: The Ramifications of Jon Arryn's death play out as Jon and Elaena travel to King's Landing where Robert shocks the Realm before he and the Court head North to Winterfell. Varys finds himself scrambling for answers and Lysa and Littlefinger plot further. While around the realm, the Great and the Good react to the death of a Hand.
For those following my other fics, My Name is Daemon, and Am I my Brother's Keeper are next to be updated.
Daryl Dixon: Thanks so much, really glad you liked it.
Zhvorak: You're about to find out over the next few chapters just how big a role Robert Arryn will have, I can say no more than that as of yet.
Malser: So very glad you liked it.
Dunk: I always found it incredible too, like he brings so little to the table and his ambition is just way beyond anything he can possibly attain. He has no blood claim and he's not got the might to take it, no matter what maneuvering he does. I mean Tywin can take the Iron Throne, he's got enough power to do so, and even he'd struggle to hold it without an actual claim to it. If anything, rather than Sansa who let's face it, really is just him perving over his long-lost Cat, to actually rise to as far as he wishes, he'd have been better of seeking out Dany and trying to do with her as he did with Sansa. Because at least she has a blood claim. He always comes across to me as some sad sort who has created this fairytale in his head both involving the woman he wants and the throne he desires.
Hope this added to the lack of reunion in the last chapter, I wanted to pretty much get there in the last chapter rather than show too much and so this showed more and we'll also see a FB or two, especially in Viserys' next pov. As for Marge/Ari, that'll be answered very soon.
Celexys: Yes, we're right on the canon timeline now and so events are about to ramp up. That's one of the things with LF, he does manage to hold on for longer than any of us like, but at least his end should be fun.
J: It's Seasnake, I messed up with Seahorse, and naming it that would be too blatant for those in Westeros should they find out as you rightly say. Yes, it's Lorath, not Lys. I get that without the Starks, I feel the same when Jon is somewhat ignored in a fic, usually a Robb-centric one and even though he may still exist in it, it just takes me from it. So I get where you're coming from.
Hyoakage: I've tried to incorporate what you said into this chapter, as even though had I read it as a reader I'd have noticed it more because I wrote it, the names all just seemed obvious to me. I sort of had a blind spot to the fact that 3 Jon's is damn hard to keep straight in your head, so hopefully, this worked better.
Keb: Thanks so much and yes, very much so. We're now at the canon timeline and so right on the verge of war.
Rhatch: Thanks so very much, really glad you liked it.
Guest: And who says so? Other than Robert Baratheon. Ned certainly doesn't, in fact, when we are given a window into Ned's thoughts regarding Rhaegar, they're more than favorable. Not exactly the thoughts of a man who's thinking about his sister's rapist. I also love how people bring up the age and both get it wrong and ignore some other pertinent facts. So firstly, Rhaegar was not 25, he couldn't be since he died at 24. At Harrenhal he was 22. Lyanna was 14/15 at Harrenhal and there is no indication that anything sexual happened there, the first guaranteed sexual encounter would have taken place a year later since Jon was born in 283. Which would make her 15/16. Robert was 3 years younger than Rhaegar, and not only was this a time when age gaps meant even less than now, but no one takes issue with the fact that Robert was to wed Lyanna.
So stop with the pedo BS, because by that standard, half the people in Westeros need to be named as such. I mean FFS people ship Sandor and Sansa and there is a far large age difference and Sansa is far younger than Lyanna was. Lysa Tully was Lyanna's age when she was wed to Jon Arryn. Made to do so by her father, so if you want to talk about pedos then lest talk about the noble falcon shall we?.
Tempted by Joy: Top quality post and I agree wholeheartedly with everything you say. People always raise those two points regarding Rhaegar and both get their facts wrong and assume that their version of the story is the truth, when it's clear that GRRM is deliberately obfuscating the truth. No way that Ned Stark wouldn't be firmer in his thoughts that Rhaegar was a terrible person if what the realm is led to believe was the truth. Where in his thoughts instead it's clear that the story helps Jon in Ned's mind and so he lets it be said. Until GRRM actually comes out and shows us what happened with Rhaegar and Lyanna (something that is looking less and less likely) then everything from him being a prophecy-obsessed kidnapping rapist to him and Lyanna being two fools in love is as true as the other. They're Schrödinger's Cat.
Guest: Your wish is my command, hope you enjoyed this chapter too.
