Robb Stark

Winterfell, 299AC

Not much had changed in Winterfell over the last few months. Yes, it was considerably quieter considering more than half the men had left to go south with Lord Eddard and the girls. But apart from that, it felt the same. But to Robb there would always be a hole. It had now been four months since Jon had left to head to the Wall with Howland Reed. He missed running rampart with him, sparring with him even if he very rarely won, chasing after Bran, playing pranks on others. But there was no time for any of that, he was now the Lord of Winterfell. And a Lord does not concern himself with childhood ploys. Just thinking on everything that had changed within the year was insane.

From a castle filled with raucous laughter and boisterous children- now there was only one boisterous boy, one confined to a bed as he couldn't walk anymore, and a sixteen name-day old running the keep alongside the North. It was a huge responsibility that fell onto Robb, but luckily he's always been someone who adapts quickly. Plus, his father had been allowing him to shadow him and held private lessons with him to prepare him for this. He didn't expect it to happen for many years, but alas, times were changing. Then there was the truth which shattered everything, shook it all into their heads the depths of betrayal his father would stoop to so he could protect his family.

Not many people would see it as that though, and that disgusted him greatly. He remembered when his father had asked to speak to him a couple of hours after pulling Jon aside after their sparring bout that fateful day. He'd been laughing, joking with Theon, trying to one-up his brother, and then he was told. How he wasn't his brother but was his cousin, that he wasn't a bastard but legitimate, that he wasn't a Stark but a Targaryen. To say he had been shocked was putting it very lightly, he probably looked as though he'd been clubbed over the head with a mace. After he was told, he had simply gone to his room quietly and just stared at the walls for hours. Only seeming to snap out of it when he heard someone training in the yard below.

Yes, Jon had confirmed to him he was going to press on the claim at some point, but he wasn't going to for years. But even this didn't go to plan as that damned cutthroat set the library tower alight and he walked in with two eggs, only to come out hours later with two hatchlings clinging to his shoulders. Robb had seen plenty of drawings and paintings of dragons, it was the only thing Arya ever read about alongside war tomes. But seeing them in the flesh was something else. Knowing he was the second person to see such creatures since the reign of Aegon III after the dreaded dance between Aegon II and Rhaenyra. A lot of people consider this to be the time where Targaryen's started being labelled mad.

He himself thought the family insane. It was only when he took one of the books Arya hid in her room which documented them all did he realise that those who did go mad were far and few between- and only two of them ascended to the throne. People do consider the two contenders after Viserys I died to be so- but thinking on it, it really wasn't. Brother against sister is something that should never occur, family always sticks together. The pack should stick together. But it was Alicent and Otto Hightower who crowned Aegon despite the previous King naming his eldest daughter his heir.

Robb ran his fingers through his hair as he worked through the bountiful amounts of paperwork there was on the desk. He always knew there would be a lot of it, but doing it was something else. His hand was aching and the underside of his right hand was stained in blue-black ink. Sighing deeply, he placed the quill down and looked around the room. It was strange being in his father's solar in his seat. He'd been in here hundreds of times ever since he could walk pretty much, but it felt odd to him now. He stood up and took in what was in here. A bookcase on the wall filled with history on the North, the spines of said tomes dated what period they detailed. A tapestry on the wall that his father had stated his mother had done herself when he was a young boy that took two years to complete. Multiple instruments he had no idea what their purpose was. And a single painting of them all he'd had commissioned for Rickon's first name-day. But it wasn't all of them, as it had been made abundantly clear Jon was not to be in it.

Outside, he could hear swords hitting against dummies and against one another, the ring of steel against steel something he yearned to take part in again. But he didn't have the time to do so anymore, plus Theon wasn't the best sparring partner. Aye, he was good, but he was predictable. Robb knew his style inside out and therefore it was never a challenge. The door opening caused him to snap his head over, sighing deeply at seeing his mother's copper hair. Her face was in a frown as she looked at him, glancing over the paperwork that was still to be done, before turning to him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I had to take a break for a few minutes, it was too much at once."

Her face fell a little at this before silently urging him to take a seat as she sat across from him. Her bright blue eyes which matched with his own standing out against their porcelain skin.

"Being a Lord is all fun and games until you are a Lord. Then you understood how difficult it really is."

He couldn't say anything to that because that was how he felt about it. With that said, he picked the quill up once more and responding to the numerous letters he'd received and signing trade agreements after reading through them. Then there were the responses to criminals which needed to be answered on whether they would be given warnings, sentenced to a dungeon or the wall, or beheaded. He'd only had one beheading so far, and it like most things now was so much more different doing it himself instead of simply witnessing it from the side lines. He'd always known Ice was extraordinarily heavy but holding it himself confirmed it. He'd clicked his wrist swinging it and had to wear a cast for a few days so it could heal afterwards. Valyrian steel swords were incredibly rare to come by, and they cannot even use theirs it was just that big. It was almost as tall as Robb was, and he wasn't a short man.

"It'll get easier, and it won't be forever Robb. Your father will be back one day, as will the girls- "

"Mother, you know as well as I do that's wishful thinking. You know Jon plans on pressing on the claim in the future. The only way all will leave is if Robert dies beforehand."

Catelyn bit her lip at this, not liking the truth in her son's words.

"Honestly, I can't see that man living much longer with all the drinking and eating. He puts the Manderly's to shame with his feasts. Heck, the one we held when they came here for him set us back two thousand golden dragons. The average feast in Winterfell costs a quarter of that. It's no surprise the realm is massively in debt to the Iron Bank and to the Lannister's."

It was a thought that crossed Robb's mind often. He'd only ever met him once before and he was only a child then, when he came with Eddard to bring Theon to Winterfell as a hostage. He barely remembered it, but he did remember that he was nowhere near the size he was now. And if he died, it automatically makes the snotty Prince the new King. It was rare that Robb hated someone on first sight, but the pompous look the younger wore when he rode in on his stallion instantly made his blood boil. This coupled with him looking down at him like he was simply dirt on his shoe made it worse. Theon had clocked it up to being overprotective of Sansa, but this was only a tiny portion of it. But the older male switched sides when Joffrey called them stupid children because Ser Rodrik wouldn't let them train with live steel which Joffrey refused to use anything but.

"How long does it take to become a master at politics?"

Catelyn went quiet at his words as she carefully thought.

"Everyone is different, Robb. Some people learn in a matter of weeks, some it takes years, and others never do. Gods, I dread the day my brother ascends to Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. I love my baby brother with all my heart but I won't sit here and kiss his arse because he is terrible with politics. The only thing he really has going for him is his ability with numbers. There's a reason my father and uncle don't get along. My father wants Brynden to marry and to have him take over as Lord, but my uncle doesn't want to marry nor does he feel comfortable with usurping my brothers claim- "

A knock on the door silenced her and Robb hid his emotions over his mother's confession quickly. Maester Luwin walked in not long after carrying a raven scroll in his hands.

"Apologies for the intrusion my Lord, my Lady. But an urgent raven arrived from Lord Eddard."

Robb's eyes widened a little before stretching his hand out to take the scroll from the elderly man. He made to leave but he silently asked him to remain but to lock the door to avoid any wandering ears. He read it earnestly but it made no sense at all. Just detailing Sansa spending an entire day with Joffrey and Arya chasing cats? What did this mean? He pulled one of the many candles that were alight in the room before flipping the parchment. It was long, three paragraphs full and the writing was tiny and barely eligible. Meaning a lot had happened. He scanned over it and his eyes widened massively, his heart beginning to beat rapidly in his chest as he stood from his seat in shock. No, it was too soon. Way too soon.

His mother reached her hand out to read it herself and he spotted the Maester was gnawing on his thumb in nerves. Sansa was beginning to come around, Arya had found the lost cat of Rhaenys fucking Targaryen alongside a brooch his father suspected belonged to Aegon Targaryen. But that wasn't the worst of it, Varys knew about Jon. The spider knew they were committing the highest of treasons to keep him safe. Plus, something about a boy posing as a Blackfyre? That Arya had overheard Varys and some other man discussing introducing them to one another? That said boy had an egg and Daenerys had three?! What in seven hells was happening? It was too much at once, and from the way Catelyn was gripping the parchment he knew she was the same.

"You know what this means don't you, Robb?"

Carefully, he sat back down although he was still shaking in both fear and astonishment.

"It means war is coming, and it's going to be soon. Varys is on the small council; he could tell Robert at any moment. In fact, I take that back. What in the world did Stannis find out that caused him to flee and start building a fleet with the Velaryon's?!"

The panic in his voice was obviously matched by his expressions now, not being able to keep his composure at all of this.

"It's not even the worst part of it, Robb, did you read the last paragraph?"

The younger simply shook his head, the first two were enough for him to think on. But from the disturbed look on his mother's face, he knew it was not good news. She handed the scroll back over to him, his thumb trailing along the broken grey seal. When he'd finished doing so, he felt his heart drop instantly. Daenerys was pregnant, and Viserys was dead. Killed by his sister's husband of all people for apparently threatening to cut her child out of her. His hand ran stressfully through his dark auburn locks as he thought this all through.

"Gods, we need to tell him. He's not going to take this well- "

"He's already told him, says so at the bottom. I'd imagine he'll have received the raven a day or two ago."

Well that was a good thing. Robb did not want to be the one to tell his cousin that was raised as his brother that his uncle was dead at his goodfamily's hands. Jon was not going to take this well. And if his father were telling him about that there was no doubt in his mind he would know about everything else that had happened. He will have to make a move, and soon. And he will need to make it quickly and keep it hidden at the same time. That was not an easy task.

"How can we help? This will be enough for him to make a move, but I don't want to sit and just let it all happen."

"If I may be excused, my Lord. I believe I have just the thing that can do just that."

Robb eyed Luwin quizzically but nodded assuredly anyway, despite his mind running at hundreds of miles per second currently.

"First we need to find out what Varys intends to do with this knowledge. That's a given. We cannot have him tell the Baratheon's or Lannister's as then it will be war in a matter of days. Jon needs time to learn, and it would probably be best that the dragons are at a decent size. Anyone would run screaming at seeing dragons flying in the sky again. But from Jon's latest raven they're the size of horses. That's not large enough to cause too much fear- "

"He researched into it with Maester Aemon who apparently has a book that documents when all Targaryen dragons were mounted for the first time. It seems to be within two years but possibly earlier. It's been almost five months now. We need to stall everything by a good year at least."

Catelyn nodded at Robb's words, not even attempting to show her pride over how quickly he'd come to that conclusion. But holding off a war was a dangerous thing, and they will need to do it secretly. All their heads would be on spikes if it got out that they were knowingly hiding a male Targaryen heir from the King who was hellbent on ripping the family out root and stem.

"I'll ride to White Harbour on the morrow and get a ship down to Kings Landing. I'll leave some trace for the spider to meet with me when I dock. I'll find out whose side he is on- "

"Mother, you cannot. Rickon is six, he needs you- "

She shot him a glare so harsh that he was sure if he was made of glass she would've shattered him.

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, Robb. I am a Stark by marriage but I will always be a Tully. I will go and speak to Varys myself to find out what is going on."

Her tone left him no room to argue. Sulking, he eyed the pale parchment once again, reading over the words as if they were going to change some way. His hands covering his face and sighing deeply. Gods Jon, why did you blurt it out? And now Sansa and Arya knew of their mummery. He wasn't worried too much about the younger as Arya stuck to Jon like parchment and wax. It was Sansa he was worried about. What happened that caused her to start coming around? Had Joffrey done something that opened her eyes? Or had she just been going back and forth and was beginning to crack? He didn't have time to think however as Luwin walked back into the room carrying two large books alongside a leather pouch. One of the ones he had which preserved old scrolls. He placed them down on the table and with permission sat down beside mother and son.

"Stannis is building a fleet with the Velaryon's. That's the opening needed."

At his words, both turned to him with looks of confusion. What opening? Neither Robb nor Catelyn could see any flaw in that other than Stannis had found something out and was taking precautionary measures.

"My Lord, what did I teach you regarding the Dance?"

If he wasn't confused before, he certainly was now. Luwin must've noticed it as he elaborated carefully.

"Who came to Winterfell to convince Cregan Stark to join in? And how was it done?"

Robb noticed something click in his mother's eyes at this as she eyed the Maester incredulously, scrambling to take the scroll he had and removing it from the letter. Her eyes went over it a few times but she seemed to not understand it. The younger pieced bits together but somehow it just wasn't clicking for him. He's either missing something big or he's being told to read in between the lines for the least obvious. And that was a skill he was not good at when it came to politics. When it came to strategy he was good at it, but that was all.

"Jacaerys Velaryon flew here on his dragon Vermax to convince Cregan to support his mother Rhaenyra- "

Then the penny dropped. Suddenly realising what this scroll was. He took it from his mother, noting the delicacy of the material due to it being almost two centuries old.

"Is this?"

"Aye, that's Winterfell's copy of the pact signed during the negotiations. I believe the Velaryon's still have their copy too. But if they don't, they'll certainly remember it. It was a huge part in their history after all."

His eyes widened massively once again. He wasn't much into the negotiations side when it came to learning the history of the realm, it not interesting him in the slightest. But now he was beginning to realise this was just as important as the fighting side of everything. His mother pushed the leather scroll over to him as he carefully slid it out, being able to feel just how brittle it was. The ink was faded but that was understandable, it was made one-hundred-and-seventy-one years ago. Luckily, it was still eligible and he began to read it to the best of his ability.

Kostagon īlon nykeōragon sagon ōregon naejot bisa. Isse udligon syt āeksio Cregan Stark's pazavorve naejot issa muñnykeā. Nyke, Jacaerys Velaryon, emagon sinata nykeā dīnilūks rȳ nykeā Darzon hen lentor Targārien nykeā lentor Velaryon, se nykeā Darzon naejot lentor Stark isse se sōnia. Istin se vīlībāzma iksos gaomagon, se dīnilūks jāhor gūrogon dīnagon. Istin bisa iksos gaomagon, nyke shall gūrogon se tȳne tresy hen āeksio Cregan naejot dārys tegorīr skoriot ziry jāhor sagon jiōragotan nykeā dīnagon rȳ coztara. Naejot mōrī bisa, issa hāedāje lēkia Joffrey Velaryon jāhor sagon nykeā ward isse ropatasōnar. Istin se dīnilūks iksos gaomagon, se sōnia jāhor sagon risen naejot Darzonetas raqagon īlva dorna. Ry hen lentor Stark jāhor hēzīr sagon Darzon. (May we stand behold to this. In response for Lord Cregan Stark's loyalty to my mother. I, Jacaerys Velaryon, have signed a marriage between a Prince or Princess of House Targaryen or House Velaryon, and an heir to House Stark in the North. Once the war is done, the marriage will take place. Once this is done, I shall take the second son of Lord Cregan to King's Landing where he will be offered a place at court. To finalise this, my youngest brother Joffrey Velaryon will be a ward in Winterfell. Once the marriage is done, the North will be risen to Principality like our Dornish allies. All of House Stark will hereby be Princes and Princesses.)

On the first read, it didn't sink in. The second read it began to click in his mind. And on the third read he dropped it on the table and reeled back in shock. Robb wasn't stupid, he knew about the pact from his numerous history lessons. But it was long thought that it was null and void because they all died anyway apart from Rhaenyra's youngest two sons and their cousin Jaehaera. Yet here it was, on dark blue and pale yellow. Confirmation that this was not the pact agreed. It wasn't a male of House Stark marrying a female of House Targaryen like it was long thought to be. It was an heir of each marrying one another.

"It's been fulfilled- oh gods!"

His head began to ache at what this all meant. Trying to make sense of where this would fit in and how it could be used to their advantage.

"Will someone kindly translate for me as I don't know a word of High Valyrian other than absolute basics?"

The slightly sarcastic tone in his mother's voice brought him out of his numb state as Maester Luwin reached over to read it himself. He probably never had, considering the dust that came flying out the moment the leather was opened to reveal the scroll. When the realisation sunk in for the older male, his head snapped to Robb before steadily turning to Catelyn.

"Mother- I- "

No words other than this came out of his mouth at what this meant. Seven hells Lyanna! Was she aware of what her marriage had caused?! This wasn't an opening at all, this was on the brink of being another act of war!

"It translates to when an heir of House Stark marries an heir of House Targaryen, there will be a hostage swap between the youngest siblings to further bind the two together, and the North will be risen to Principality status."

Robb watched as she steadily raised a hand to cover her mouth, now knowing why they were both freaking out.

"Lyanna was the female heir of House Stark- "

"And Rhaegar was the male heir of House Targaryen. This means that the North is semi-independent due to their marriage and has been for just over seventeen years, and all of us are Princes and Princesses."

All three were breathing deeply now at this. Desperately trying to take in the news. It felt like all those months ago once more when the truth of Jon came out.

"Your trip to Kings Landing must happen now mother, there is no way to avoid it. But send a raven to Varys first, see if he might come here instead. Give it a bit of time for this to sink in."

Jaeron Targaryen

Greywater Watch, 299AC

"Cyvasse."

Jon smirked lightly at Arthur as he boxed in his King with his dragon and elephant. There was no way out of this one, that he knew as he'd taken specific steps to do this. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Torghen smirk openly in understanding. The Dornishman in front of him was looking around the board, trying to find some other way to wiggle out of the predicament he was in but after careful consideration, realised it was futile. He watched as he raised his arms in an act of surrender, finally admitting defeat before standing up. The Vale man now taking his place as he cleared the board and thought it through on his end. Torghen Hill had arrived three weeks after his talk with Arthur three months ago. With hair as fair as the Lannister's and piercing blue eyes that was common with those of Andalosi descent.

Once again, he wiped his face clean and thought where to put his starting pieces. This was a game of strategy, politics, and war combined. And it was stupid to use the same tactic all the time, hence why it was always changing. No game was ever the same, and therefore always unpredictable. But there was one thing that never changed for him, he always kept his King near the back of the board, which is something a lot of Kings did unless they didn't have a choice. Something that disgusted him, and Jon knew that once he begins to press on the claim, he will be at the forefront. And he knew deep down that Robb would be right behind him as a loyal bannerman.

How times have changed. Up until a year ago Jon dreamed of having a small keep of his own to run and to be a loyal bannerman to his brother. Yet it was now the other way around with some added adjustments in the form that he was a damned Prince. He'd always thought that Sansa's and Jeyne's dreamy talks of lost love and hidden royals were stupid- the irony of it all. He watched carefully as to where Torghen was putting his pieces, trying to figure out the man's strategy before the game had even begun. Analysing deeply all the same. Elephant near the back, dragon at the right corner, King in the centre, rabble at the front ready to be converted into light and heavy cavalry.

Two hours in and they were still nowhere near finishing the game, and he'd still not figured out the man's strategy. He wasn't trying to box him in so he wasn't going the siege route. He wasn't outwardly attacking any big players meaning he was either being cautious or getting rid of the lesser pieces first. Just as Jon was about to make his next move, a startled Howland walked in clutching a piece of parchment to him with a terrified look on his face. The rooms occupants and Ghost tilted their heads to the Lord as he gulped loudly before shutting the door behind him.

"My Lord?"

The silent question was clear, what is going on now? He noticed Arthur place a hand gently on the hilt of his sword for reassurance and Torghen was biting his lip hard.

"This is something Jaeron needs to see himself- "

"Ser Arthur will stay as he is on my Kingsguard. Torghen, I will notify you later in the day."

With that, the blonde left the room with a simple bowed head. He caught the Dornishman quirk an eyebrow at him and he realised why. That was the first time he had given a command as a King, and he had not stuttered nor had he faltered once.

"Alert us of the update, my Lord."

Steadily, Howland took the unoccupied seat as the Knight stood vigilantly behind Jon in a protective manner.

"Nothing good."

He kept his face passive as he carefully slid the parchment over to him, taking note of the grey wax stamped with a direwolf. Meaning it had either come from Eddard or from Robb. He'd heard nothing bad regarding the North so the chances are this was an update from his uncle. He bent the already opened seal backwards and uncurled the scroll, beginning to read it. Once he had finished doing so, he read it a second time, and then a third as if to assure himself that he wasn't imagining things. Finally, he placed it on the table and let out a long breath.

"My uncle is dead, killed by my aunt's husband for trying to cut her unborn child out of her."

Arthur reeled back in shock at this, looking to him with a pleading look as if he were silently asking him to confirm this was not the case. He remembered Viserys well, the happy seven name-day old running throughout the keep showing off to his parents by naming all the skulls of the dragons that once decorated the throne room of the Red Keep. Silver curls falling to his shoulders that were a copy of his mother's and being fiercely protective over her. Yet he'd apparently tried to cut out his little sister's child and met his end. Three Targaryen's left; one on the wall past his one hundredth name-day, a young female in the middle of the Dothraki Sea somewhere, and a boy barely older than the girl hidden in plain sight.

"It's not the only thing on it. There's now proof that Jon Arryn was murdered as Arya overheard Varys talking with someone in the tunnels beneath the castle. She's apparently also found what my uncle believes to have been my blood sister's cat that went missing not long after she was stabbed half a hundred times alongside a brooch that henbelieves belonged to my blood brother. Stannis fled the city for some reason and is building a fleet with the Velaryon's, and to top it all off Varys knows about me."

It went quiet for a few moments before the Knight swore loudly before walking around the room in shock. One revelation was enough, but this was numerous, and neither of them were good.

"I'll get a raven sent to your aunt and cousin to alert them if they haven't already been made aware of these developments, we need input of some kind."

Four days later he was still reeling from it all, fear ebbing deep within him now over what this now meant. One thing was for certain though, he was going to need to make a move and not remain idle like he had been for almost five months now. He's learned a lot in that short time but he would be a fool if he were to say he was an expert. He knew he wasn't. Then again, was there even such a thing as being an expert when it came to political manoeuvre's? If there was, then nobody would be able to outplay one another, there would always be a way to wriggle out of a situation. This was some comfort at least to him.

He was sat atop his bed reading up on those who were previously sworn to his House and why they had switched sides, taking note of the ones who had no choice but to switch sides. There were a few in the Crownlands, the same as in the Riverlands, and the rest was a scatter. Once he'd finished taking notes, he stood up and walked down into the training yard. He could beat Torghen easily with one sword but with two he ate dirt more often than nought, but he never came close to beating Arthur Dayne. The only way he'd knowingly been beat was when Howland literally stabbed the man in the back as he was about to kill his uncle. He knew Eddard was good with a sword, he just never showed it as he hates boasting.

Jon had still to use Dark Sister when training. A sword as recognisable as that would immediately burst their bubble. But at least he could use Longclaw. The differing weight from regular steel to Valyrian steel was startling, and he knew when he finally does start to use his other one he would be off balance as he was now used to using a heavier blade. Of course, he could just use the hilt cover Mikken had made for him, but he couldn't hide the material it was made from. It's so sought after and it is incredibly expensive. Hence why if someone is fortunate enough to come into possession of it, it gets passed though the family and are considered sacred.

Most House's have them. He has two himself, the Stark's have Ice, the Tarly's have Heartsbane, the Corbray's have Lady Forlorn. On and on it goes, but he did find it a little funny that neither the Lannister's nor the Tyrell's had one considering how often they boast of their riches. Then again, the former did have one but it was lost gods know how long ago, which led to the disappearance of Tywin's younger brother Gerion going on a mad hunt to find it. He snapped out of his thoughts as a greatsword came his way, quickly blocking the attack with Longclaw and bracing with his other sword. They'd started him on using live steel on his left hand a month prior which only made the training more dangerous. But he had one thing going for him, no blade is sharper than Valyrian steel.

The second swing came his way towards his head but he took notice of the loose grip on the hilt. Meaning he was using this as a distraction. He was correct in his assessment as the moment the two met with a loud cling of metal against metal, another was coming towards his ribcage with a vicious speed. He quickly bent down so the blade went over his head before chancing an upward swing- but Arthur had been expecting this move from the position he was in by forcing him to remain in such a compromising spot. He needs to get out of this, but how? Then it hit him, his legs were wide open and he was relatively small. Arthur either did not notice the way his eyes glinted or he ignored it as he reigned hellfire down on him from above, Jon barely able to keep up with the precision of the strokes.

He knew it was dishonourable, and he knew his uncle would be furious if he found out he'd used the tactic he was about to use, but there's no place for honour on the battlefield. It's a kill or be killed situation, so you may as well go for it. Jon made it look like he was trying to get up when he was inching just a little further over until his left leg was behind Arthur's. The moment both swords came at him he quickly pulled his leg back, hooking his foot around the man's ankles, which sent him staggering. Using the temporary moment of confusion, he leaped up and disarmed him of one of his swords. Now, the odds were beginning to be in his favour. He has two blades, and the Knight had one.

Jon took a deep breath before attacking back with as much force as he could muster, taking small pride in the slightly alarmed look in the other's eyes at the sheer speed he was going at. Each swing perhaps lasting a second- if that. But he was beginning to tire, his muscles screaming at him to be eased up on- but he couldn't do that. If this were a real fight, weakness could not be shown in any way. He seemingly blinked before feeling a horrid cramping in his right wrist which caused him to loosen his grip marginally, but advantage was taken and soon Longclaw was flying from his hands. He cursed silently to himself as he knew now that he was once again going to be eating dirt in a matter of moments. Gripping the hilt with both hands now, knowing he would need to use strength to try and beat him.

It felt like it went on for hours but was likely only a few minutes before he spotted an opening. Wasting no hesitation, he used it which led to him temporarily having his back turned to the man but the sword came flying from his grip- only for him to then feel the biting cold of a metal blade against his skin under his neck.

"Always remain on guard, weapons are not always kept in the open."

Admitting defeat, he raised his hands in surrender before turning to him to see him tucking a knife into his sleeve somewhere.

"That was a cheap shot, Ser- "

"There's no such thing as cheap shots in war, kid."

He knew that already, had even thought it when he'd tripped him up, but it slipped his mind for a split moment. If that were a real fight, his throat would've been slit open and drowning in his own blood.

"Where's Torghen? Haven't seen him today."

He grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from his face and picking up Longclaw again to sheath it, placing his hand over the wolf pommel as he did so.

"Away to purchase a new bow, that wolf of yours chewed through his."

He tried to hold in the snort, but it was impossible to do so and soon he let out a cackling laugh. Ghost had taken an unhealthy obsession with chewing everything in sight recently, but he was working on training him not to do so. The pair made their way back inside, trying desperately to ignore the lingering look Jojen was giving him. He'd hardly spoken to the boy since he'd arrived, the fact he would stare at him for minutes on end without blinking freaked him out big time. Out the corner of his eye, he spotted Meera practising with her spears, spinning them almost elegantly and fighting back with punches, kicks, and occasional thrusts whenever there was an opening.

"Jon, come with me. You too Daemien, we need your input on this and if you had any idea about it."

Jyana seemingly appeared out of thin air in front of them before walking down the corridor. Both turned to one another quizzically before following the Lady through the many hallways and staircases. They were in Howland's solar again, and the Lord was pacing the room quietly with his eyebrows furrowed, confirming he was stressed about something.

"My Lord?"

"Sit Jaeron, you too Arthur, no hanging around behind him. We just received a raven from your cousin Robb, and it is not good."

Jon immediately pinched his nose, another thing to add on to the shitstorm that is already happening?

"There's a potential opening here to get a good ally and also bite Stannis Baratheon too, but it will cause even more political strife because if this succeeds the truth will need to come out sooner than intended."

Gods, what now? Once again, he kept his face passive as the raven was passed over to him. Cracking open the grey direwolf seal and opening the letter. He spotted Arthur leaning over just slightly to read it as well, and when it clicked both turned to one another in shock.

"This just makes things exceedingly more complicated than they already were."

"Aye, it does. Gods Rhaegar you secretive idiot!"

Arthur stood up and began pacing the room, clearly in shock at what this was. Clearly figuring something out. Both Howland and Jon were looking to him oddly, the younger especially as he had never spoken badly about his father yet here he was calling him an idiot?

"Ser?"

No other words were needed, the question was obvious. Steadily, Arthur sat back down in his seat and read it again, and again, and again.

"I thought he was just trying to remain friendly with Monford regarding that damned pact by being curious. But the timing of it, he took interest in it after that damnable tourney- "

Slowly, Jon stood up now as it hit him like a brick what Arthur had now realised, fully understanding now why he had called Rhaegar an idiot. After the tourney, after he had met Lyanna, after he and Elia were separated, when they were sending numerous letters back and forth to one another. He must've taken an interest in it because he wanted to marry Lyanna long before he had, and to smooth tensions was going to bring up the pact. Rhaegar was going to raise the North to Principality like Dorne was, showing he saw Elia and Lyanna equally and not one being better than the other.

"Seven hells, so Monford Velaryon knows they were wed?"

"I don't know if he knows they were wed with certainty, but he'll at least suspect it heavily. I've known Monford and Aurane since they were little boys, their father brought them to the Red Keep and to Dragonstone frequently due to their proximity at Driftmark. It takes a little more than a day to travel between the three."

Jon pinched his eyes now in irritation, this was both excellent and terrible- and completely terrifying.

"Stannis is currently building a fleet with them in preparation for something. That man would never betray his family and is as stubborn as steel. So, he's either found something out which threatens his family and is protecting them, or he had found something out that harms his own family and is preparing. I doubt it's the first one because Stannis despises Robert, he took it as a huge insult that Robert gave Storm's End to Renly as he was what- five name-days at the time? Perhaps even younger?"

"Which means he's found something out which puts his own family on the frontline. I can't picture it being Selyse as they hate one another- but he loves his daughter. Deformity and all, everyone is aware he will do anything for Shireen."

The younger was looking back and forth between the two, trying to make sense of their words. And then an idea came to him, one that would need a lot of work but he can see it being beneficial. A little more than a day away by ship, and he wants the other Valyrian family on his side for their ships and due to their shared kinship.

"What if I were to reveal myself to Monford, Aurane, and Monterys only? This solidifies the pact and we could remain quiet on the Principality side of it until we find a way to either bring Dorne on board or have them remain neutral. We could have them spy on Stannis by pretending to be loyal to him when in reality- "

"They would be loyal to you, giving you an upper hand."

Arthur spoke the words quietly, thinking it through in his head. That was an idea. Stannis was also previously on the small council meaning he will know a lot of the inside schemes in the capital and surrounding the Baratheon's and Lannister's. Howland was smiling brightly at him; clearly proud he'd thought of that. He'd made a political move before by staging the mummery to make it look as though he was missing beyond the Wall somewhere, but this was something else entirely. He knew now just how long and complicated the game was, but playing it really made it a reality.

"Your aunt is currently riding this way before heading to White Harbour to speak to Varys directly. I'm sure she'll be able to figure out if this is a good move to make."