Eddard Stark

Kings Landing, 299AC

Not much had changed at all ever since that raven arrived at the small council meeting, something Eddard was glad about. The quiet Lord was never someone who coped well under a lot of pressure or a lot of differing scenarios, but that was something he had to endure these last few months. His father had raised him to say things as they were no matter what others thought of the statements, and it was something Jon Arryn had endorsed. Yet here he is, being loyal to his King but having to remain loyal to his nephew who was going to be plunging the continent into a war in the foreseeable future.

It had been a little more than a month since he had sent the communication and it unsettled him greatly he had yet to receive a response from either party. With Jon it was understandable considering he had to send a raven to the Wall first and then to Greywater Watch to evade detection. But his son and wife not sending any response to it all was the strange thing, they had been in regular correspondence ever since he and the girls had left. It had taken Sansa more than a week to forgive him for telling her Jon was likely dead, and Arya had still not forgiven him. They had always been the closest, and with the fact that they looked almost identical to one another would easily make people think they were twins.

Well, perhaps not anymore. If what Howland's ravens said were true, then Jon was beginning to look exceptionally like Rhaegar in the face. Perhaps he always had but his Stark colouring just disguised it. Ned hadn't known Rhaegar very well, only met him a couple of times, and his face was as familiar as the Summer Isles to him. It had been seventeen years since he had last seen him, and the last time he had it was when he pushed through the massive crowds of the battlefield to see the silver Prince in the river with his chest caved in from Robert's spiked warhammer.

At the time, he had felt relief, had thought he had gotten justice for his father, brother, and sister from the act. But everything was thrown into the sea when he found Lyanna dying with her stomach cut open, her newborn son against her chest. Guilt was something he didn't feel often, but he sure did then. Even now, it was difficult to pinpoint where it all kicked off. Had it been when his head was called for alongside Robert's by Aerys? Had it been when Lyanna disappeared? Had it been when his brother went to the Red Keep and was imprisoned? Was it when his father was burned alive with Brandon just out of reach with a rope tied so tightly around his neck that he strangled himself trying to free their father? Or was it when Rhaegar rode past Elia to lay that crown of winter roses in Lyanna's lap?

It had all happened so quickly, everything was a blur now. And now it was beginning to kick off again. His nephew training to be a master politician with his wife helping out alongside Howland Reed, Robb helping out whenever he could amongst his own Lordly duties, Arya accidentally finding out that Jon had dragons that according to Catelyn were the size of war horses now. A boy Varys was hiding as a Blackfyre, Stannis fleeing the city and allying with the Velaryon's. War was imminent now, and it was a waiting game he was not prepared for nor was it one he wanted to be involved in. But family comes first for him, no matter what. It was only more difficult due to the betrothal that was in place. If Jon presses on the claim, Sansa will become a hostage. If the truth comes out, all will be hostages. There was only one thing he could do, and that was getting the girls out and finding a way to break this betrothal.

But he didn't want to hurt his daughter. He saw the way she looked at Joffrey, as if he had hung the sun and moon for her and her alone. However, people talked, and it wasn't good. His lip curled in a little as he remembered that once the young Prince had cut open a pregnant cat as he wanted to see unborn kittens and then presented them to Robert. Ned had asked his friend about that, and the way his face darkened was all the confirmation needed. Plus, he was still nowhere near figuring out what Jon Arryn had died over. He eyed the book in front of him with trepidation, completely confused on why the elderly man was researching every member there had ever been of any House. There was something here, and it had led to his predecessor being poisoned by the Lannister's.

But what was it?

It couldn't be something obvious because if it was then everyone would know about it. Something that he would see if the surface was scratched. But with nothing to go on, he didn't know what surface to crack. Was it the Lannister's? Was it the Baratheon's? Was it another House sworn to either party? Perhaps it was a mixture of everything? Ned shook his head, ridding himself of the thoughts currently circulating inside his head before he drove himself insane. It was times like these he wished Benjen had not taken the black, he was fantastic with solving problems like this. He remembered a time he had created a wooden puzzle when he was bored and gave to them to try. He had given up after around ten minutes, Lyanna had thrown it at him in a fit as she could not figure it out, and Brandon had tried to crack it for days before finally giving in.

Everything was so simple then. But then his sister just had to take part in that tourney secretly and getting herself wrapped into something unprecedented. If things had worked out differently, she would've been Queen and not Cersei Lannister. He wasn't sure what it was about the Lioness that set him on edge, her face always as still as a statue. Probably would be a delight to paint or sketch as she never moved her features unless she was talking and even then her mouth barely moved. In two separate scenarios his wild little sister would've been the one on top. If Rhaegar won, she would've been his Queen. If she hadn't died in childbed she would've been Robert's Queen. Clearly for her, it was not meant to be. But it could be for her son.

Jaeron, the last known legitimate male heir of House Targaryen.

It was a good name, that he mused. One that could've easily been passed off as a Northern name, and a part of him wondered if that was partially the reasoning behind it. Apparently Rhaegar had wanted to name him Visenya if he were a girl from Lyanna's letters, clearly going for a theme by naming his children after the conqueror and his sisters. He remembered her words well as he watched her bleeding out, still cradling the newborn to her chest with tears streaming down her face. Of how they had chosen the name in the chance of a second male heir so there would be a new start.

He hadn't said it at the time, but a part of him thought that because the babe was Lyanna's whom Robert claimed to love, he would allow him to live. He would've been his father by law, could've been disinherited but remain a part of the family or be allowed to be raised in Winterfell knowingly. However, he now knew differently. The sheer rage on the older mans face when the raven arrived explaining that Daenerys was pregnant. To the complete joy when news arrived of Viserys' death came. Seemingly the man forgot that the first member of House Baratheon was the bastard brother of Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys. And that there had been numerous Baratheon's who had been hands, Steffon himself being one before his untimely end off the coast of Storm's End right in sight of his sons.

Perhaps this was when his resentment began. Steffon had been sent on a mission to find a bride of Valyrian blood for Rhaegar, but it had failed miserably. The only ones he had apparently found had been prostitutes, and Aerys did not want that for his son. Then came the stupid move of refusing Tywin Lannister and spiting him. Rickard's words haunting him even to this day. No matter what son, do not pull the Lion's tail. A fact that was proven when the man ordered the butchering of Elia and her children. Plus the fact that the people who had done the deed were rewarded. He'd seen Amory Lorch a few times in the castle, and every time he thought of what it would be like to stab him half a hundred times like he had done with the infant Rhaenys. A child is not at fault for the parents actions, something that was known in the North. Another thing that confused him about how the South worked. How could two areas of land neighbouring one another be so different to one another?

With all this knowledge now spinning in his head, he knew he needed to clear some of it off his chest. He needs to do something, but what could he do? The only logical thing he could think of was getting the girls out, but having to weave it in a way that wasn't suspicious was going to be difficult. Part of him wished Cat were here. If anyone could think of a way to do so, she was a likely contender. Alas, she was in Winterfell with their boys helping Robb run the keep in his stead. Ned himself had only been a year older than Robb when he inherited the North, something he wasn't ever supposed to do. Second sons usually at best will be granted their own keep and are made to swear loyalty to their fathers and elder brother.

It had happened with the Targaryen's on a few occasions, two times in particular sticking out to him. Jaehaerys I was the third son of King Aenys, and Aegon V was the fourth son of a fourth son. Even Aegon III was the same, the fourth son of Rhaenyra and then his brother Viserys II inheriting when he and his sons were dead. All rulers in question were known and commended for their maturity when it came to ruling. Especially considering two hadn't even been men grown when they ascended. They just had the added advantage of having grown up in the Red Keep and knew the ins and outs of the capital like the back of their hands. Age isn't the teller of a good ruler- it's wisdom and having the grace to accept humility.

Which was something Robert did not have, nor did Joffrey. That much he knew for certain. He couldn't say the same about Tommen though as he was still very young and had the opportunity to be moulded to be a good ruler. Now, he bit his lip, ridding himself of the treasonous thoughts in his head.

"Lord Hand, you have been requested to a small council meeting."

He waved the guard off and he watched as his red and gold cape swished around his feet and disappearing from sight. What was it with all these Lannister men in the keep? He'd seen a few Baratheon men but hardly any. And when he had asked about it, Robert had simply laughed and said they refused to leave Storm's End and Dragonstone. Likely. But he never voiced this aloud, knowing Robert would take great offence to it. It didn't take a genius to figure out the Lannister's were up to something, but what was the question. What else had they to gain? Jaime as Kingsguard , Cersei as Queen, her children heirs, and richer than the Reach, Vale, and North combined. He fastened the brooch to his leather jerkin, remembering the other one Arya had found for a split second before leaving to join in. He wracked his mind hard, as far as he was aware there were no scheduled meetings today nor were there any for a few days for that matter. Something must've happened.

His gut coiled inside of him, panic beginning to seep in. Had Varys told Robert? Was he walking to his death right now? And if he was, why was he not afraid? He was always brought up that imminent death was the only time a man could be afraid. But if it wasn't this, then what was it? Whatever it was, it must be serious. The entire journey down he kept his face passive, refusing to let any emotion onto his face in case anyone lurking were spies and saw his inner turmoil. It already unsettled him enough that Cersei had spies strategically placed so they wouldn't be noticed if he weren't looking for them, but in perfect position for him to see. That had set him on edge, remembering the way Varys had smiled a little when he had told him about this.

"Ned, take a seat."

Hearing Robert's voice momentarily stunned him. Ever since he had come here, the only time he had been in these meetings was when news of Daenerys and Viserys had arrived. That was only two occasions though, out of dozens. This set his dread even more but he somehow managed to keep a straight face.

"Forgive me, your Grace. I wasn't made aware there was to be a meeting today."

He watched intently, noticing the way Cersei's eyes were flashing, only realising now that she was there. This only made him feel more uncomfortable than he already did.

"We received a raven today Ned, from the Eyrie. Are you aware of what your goodsister has done?"

Just like that, all air seemingly left him and relief washed over him like a waterfall. This meant it wasn't what he thought. What had Lysa done now? Had they found out that she sent a letter to Catelyn telling her the Lannister's had murdered Jon Arryn?

"I have not heard from Lysa in years Robert, her and Cat are not very close with one another. She took it as a great insult when we offered to foster Robyn for her."

It felt good to be truthful again. It seemed that lying was the only thing he had been doing as of late, and it made him feel awful. Eddard had always despised lying with a passion, but he had to, to protect his family. Steadily, Robert slid the parchment over to him to read, now feeling the rage coming from the Queen. Clearly whatever was in here angered her greatly. Gods Lysa, what have you done? He turned it over to see the navy seal stamped with the falcon of House Arryn, confirming it had been sent from the Eyrie. Opening it and he realised it was indeed her handwriting. As he read, his eyes began to widen massively, panic beginning to seep in again. Don't pull on the lion's tail, his father's words circulating in his head once again.

"Your goodsister has taken my brother and has accused him of murdering Jon Arryn. For your sake my Lord, you had best talk sense into her-"

"Silence woman."

The Queen seethed in her seat for a few moments before promptly leaving the room, her deep red silks flowing behind her and very much looking like flames.

"I'll send Cat a raven alongside the Blackfish tonight, your Grace. We'll talk sense into her and have her release your goodbrother."

Numerous pairs of eyes darted to him with skepticism, and he caught the way Varys' lingered just a little bit longer on him. Not enough for it to be noticeable, but he had been anticipating it so had expected him to do so. He is hiding a boy as a Blackfyre, and he knows he was hiding a legitimate male Targaryen. If even a peep of that escaped, that would be it. War would happen within a matter of hours.

"See to it that you do, lets just hope my goodfather will not raise the seven hells up beforehand. Now, you have the Keep to yourself for a few weeks Ned. I'm going on a hunting trip with Renly and a few of my men."

His stomach tightened once more at this, but he knew an order when he heard one. This wasn't Robert Baratheon speaking, this was King Robert. And he wasn't going to disobey his King. You cannot be loyal to two Kings. The thought passed through him for a split second but he simply nodded before heading for his own room. There was nothing to it now, he had to make sure the girls got home. It was far too dangerous here. Wolves don't do well in warm climates, that fact was well known. No Stark fared well in the South, and now wasn't going to be any different. Once he was in his room, he summoned both his daughters and shut his blinds. Both looked to him strangely at this but he simply pinched his nose before saying;

"I'm sending you two back to Winterfell."

The horror on Sansa's face was only there for a split second.

"What?! I can't leave! I'm betrothed to the Prince! We're getting married and I'm going to be his Queen and we're going to have children- "

"Seven hells."

Normally, he would scorn Arya for cursing, but there was no need to do so here. If anything, he was amused by her interjection.

"This isn't me punishing you. I won't sugarcoat it to you both, but war is coming. If you two don't leave now, things are only going to get worse."

Arya seemed happy with the explanation, but he noticed his eldest daughter was panicking beside her sister.

"But father! I can't scorn the Prince, I'll be labelled the rejected one. Please, I want to be with him. I love him and I'm going to give him plenty of sons with beautiful golden hair like their father. Be lions like him- "

"You are aware that Baratheon's are stags, you idiot."

Something clicked right then, his mouth parting a little bit.

"I know that but he's nothing like that drunk. He favours his mother and he'll never be like him."

He bit his lip hard before ordering them to go to their rooms and begin packing immediately. By now, Sansa was practically bawling. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was sniffling hard. But Arya grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room to do as he had commanded. Once both were out of the room, he walked over to the book and opened it, immediately going to the section on the Baratheon's.

Orys- black of hair and blue eyes. Rogar- black of hair and blue eyes. All the way down it went. Steffon- black of hair and blue eyes. Robert- black of hair and blue eyes. Stannis- black of hair and blue eyes. Renly- black of hair and blue eyes. Joffrey- gold of hair and green eyes. Myrcella- gold of hair and green eyes. Tommen- gold of hair and green eyes. He immediately shut it at this, bending over and breathing hard. There had never been a Baratheon who didn't have black hair and blue eyes. So why all of a sudden were there now three hundred years after the House was founded? It could only mean one thing, the children were not Robert's. But if they weren't his, then who? It hit him like a brick and he had to stop himself from vomiting at the thought. Cersei always talked about how she and Jaime were never to be apart as they were born together. Had been born with him clutching her foot.

Bastards shouldn't fight with Prince's.

Those were words Jon had spoken in passing when they came to Winterfell. When Joffrey had embarrassed Robb and Theon. He had been at the opposite side of the balcony to him and Arya, but he'd heard his words. He almost laughed at the irony of it all, but panic was too large within him currently. And now Robert is away on a hunt meaning he can't tell him. This only meant one thing, Stannis knew. He had been with Jon Arryn in the days leading up to his death and he had fled when he had been proclaimed such by the Grand Maester. Clearly getting a step ahead in everything before he met the same end as his predecessor and foster father. This was why Stannis was pressing on his claim, why he had recruited the Velaryon's. He needs to send a raven, and now.

He grabbed some parchment and wrote everything down, hastily stamping his own sigil to seal it. They knew he was going to send a letter to Catelyn and Robb anyway, so he had that going for him. But he had to draft one for the Blackfish as well. He'd met Brynden a few times, had liked the man well enough, but the feud between he and his brother was well known. The younger refusing to marry as he hoped to become a Kingsguard one day. Maybe- he shook his head at this, that was one step too many at the moment. He'll bring it up with Cat when he sees her next. And who knows when that will be.

Jaeron Targaryen

On route from Greywater Watch to Starfall, 300AC

It was a gruelling journey, that was something Jaeron agreed with Arthur on. Four days after Catelyn had left to head to White Harbour, the pair had saddled up with just enough money alongside a large tent in case they didn't pass by an inn. Fear was something he didn't experience often, but he was beginning to feel it more now that he was beginning to really adapt. Now, he couldn't learn and then press on his claim. All he could do now was learning as he pressed on the claim. Luckily, he had good people surrounding him who knew what they were talking about when it came to all of this.

It was only the two of them, Howland remaining behind as he was going to be acting as an envoy in his stead for when the Velaryon's arrive. A part of him had wanted to remain to meet with the other Valyrian family, but he couldn't put it off any more. He is going to need allies, and he needs them now. The Lord had one of the wargs residing in the castle to show them how to get to the Kingsroad. One of numerous commissioned at the behest of Jaehaerys I and his sister-wife Alysanne. Practically the only two who were spoken of fondly in the North for what they had done. Yet to think it was their grandchildren which almost ended their family and its legacy.

If his calculations were correct, it would take them roughly three weeks to arrive in Starfall. Which is where they would be getting men and according to his single Kingsguard member- so he could breathe his own air again. It had made him snort a little, but he had managed to cover it up fairly well. They were moving now.

His aunt on her way to the capital to speak to Varys and probably to Eddard as well, with Torghen following her disguised as a personal guard. Howland and Jyana remaining behind to convince Monford to join his cause and not Stannis'. Hopefully he wasn't too late with them, because they would be a fantastic asset. Torghen would be splitting from Catelyn at the capital to travel to Claw Isle to speak to Lord Ardrian Celtigar to see if he would join in. Then there was him and Arthur travelling to Dorne of all places. It was somewhere he had always wanted to visit, always finding the culture and outlook on life fascinating. It was also the only Kingdom in Westeros who treated bastards the same as trueborns. Perhaps he would've gone there had he not been told the truth? Although, he'd probably head towards the Wall.

His lips tightened in a thin line at the thought. Just before they had left he had sent a raven to Aemon to explain everything that was going on. But he couldn't get the thought of that thing attacking him. What if he hadn't grabbed Dark Sister? No one but Howland knew about what he had saw, and it was beginning to eat him up. So he had written in the raven directed at his uncle that if he heard anything he was to send response immediately. Arthur shot him a strange look as they finally came into sight of the famous road that went straight to Kings Landing from Castle Black, his pale brown hair that he had dyed only making his caramel coloured skin stand out more. Jaeron was no better, Jyana simply quirking an eyebrow at him before finally helping tame his raven curls and putting the same paste through it.

Most of it had grown back in, just considerably shorter than it had been before stepping into that fire and hatching Rhaegon and Lyrax. He felt terrible about leaving them behind, but he had no choice. They were still growing. Yes, they were growing abnormally quickly, but not to the size where they could be ridden yet. A thought coming to mind when Robb had asked him and he had stated something along the lines of being able to do so when their neck was the same size as the back of a horse. Now he knew that was nonsense. They would need to be a lot larger than that before he could mount one of them.

300AC had finally arrived, and everything was going to change from now on. nothing was ever going to be the same again. Jon Snow was a thing of the past. He's a King without a castle, Kingdom, or people. But a King nonetheless. The pair followed the road all through the Riverlands, him taking in everything as they went. But it was when they passed the Inn at the Crossroads that it sunk in. This was where his mother had met with his father and they had ran off to the Isle of Faces to wed. Where it was rumoured that she had been taken against her will. It certainly didn't help that the man beside him had been there when it all happened, had witnessed the interactions. Despite wanting a warm bed to sleep in, he knew he couldn't spend a night here, so they had travelled well into the night.

By now, it had been ten days since they had left Greywater Watch, and they were perhaps halfway through with the journey. No one thought any differently of them, there was nothing to look at that was odd. Howland had his blacksmith make another hilt cover so he could take both his swords with him, and Arthur had the same one he'd had since he'd arrived to help him out. Of course, he couldn't take the blades out of their sheaths because Valyrian steel is incredibly valuable- considered priceless in a lot of places- but it brought some semblance of comfort to him. Especially now that he was playing another persona.

No, he wasn't Jon Snow. Nor was he Jaeron Targaryen. Now, he was Marlon Palloxan. Son of Leron Palloxan- a trader between the Free Cities of Essos and the port cities of Westeros. Playing so many parts was beginning to wear him down, but it was the only way to keep his identity hidden alongside his Kingsguard. And if anyone asked about their eyes- well, that was simple. Leron's mother had been a descendent of the disgraced Princess Saera Targaryen, and his mother had been a Lysene delight from when he had visited the island during one of his many trips. The blood of Valyria runs strong there, that was a fact everyone knew about. It wasn't uncommon to see people with purple eyes and silver hair, no matter how diluted the blood was.

Once they reached the border of the Reach and Crownlands, they finally broke off from the Kingsroad and headed towards the Gold Road which went all the way to Lannisport before turning south down the Sea Road to Highgarden. Then from there, the Rose Road to Oldtown. They were heading for the port city where they would take a ship to head towards Starfall. Allyria had sent in a raven that there would be someone there to direct them, someone by the name of Alleras. It was an odd name, one he had never heard before. Then again, he was one to talk. He was literally the first of his name. There had never been a Targaryen nor a Celtigar nor a Velaryon with his name before. It must've been an uncommon one that was wiped out when the Doom occurred. Then again, the Doom still resided there, according to numerous Maester's. Hence why no one even dares to go near the peninsula where the capital of the Freehold had lay.

A part of him was excited about this, having never left the North before. Heck, before he was told he had never even left Winterfell. Yet here he is, travelling on horseback to the southernmost Kingdom. Arthur had been telling him as much as he could regarding the culture there, and to say Jaeron was surprised at the similarities was an understatement. Women could rule on their own- Barbrey Dustin and Maege Mormont were proof of that. Typically stay out of politics like his homeland did unless they had no other choice. Women were not looked down on if they learned to fight, something Arya would love. A part of him had considered sending her to foster somewhere in Dorne to help gain alliances, but this was something that couldn't be done yet. Who knows how long it will be before it all kicks off?

It took them five days to reach Lannisport, the sheer size of the city blowing his mind. He'd heard from those around him in Winterfell that White Harbour had a population of just under twenty thousand, yet this city must've had multiple times this amount. And Oldtown and Kings Landing were even larger still. The latter apparently having a population nearing a million. That was more people than there was in the North as a whole. And to think that if he succeeds- he will be ruling from there. At this moment, it was simply a dream that was so far out that it had no real merit yet. That night, they chose to find an inn, getting one relatively close to the harbour where there was a street of vendors who also traded along the coast. From his window, he could see out amongst the mass of water, wondering what lay out there.

Obviously, there were the Iron Islands. Them apparently only being a few days by ship away from the coast- probably why this city was targeted so much alongside the Riverlands. And even further out there were three islands that were named after the conqueror and his sister wives. Or so reports say after Elissa Farman sold eggs she had stolen from Dragonstone to build a huge ship before disappearing from history. That was a scandal at the time, even more so as it was heavily rumoured that she and Rhaena had been more than simply good friends. There would be no proof of that however, it was well over two centuries ago now.

When morning finally came, both swung onto their horses and made haste. The sooner they arrive in Starfall, the better it will be for them. By now, the heat was beginning to really affect Jaeron, not used to it at all. He'd gotten used to the warm temperature of the Neck since he had been there for months now, but that would be pleasantly cool in comparison to this. His clothes were sticking to him and his hair was sticking to his forehead. Some of the paste even wiping away and he was glad Jyana had been adamant he bring it with him to help conceal his identity. The less he looks like his parents, the better a chance there is of him not being outed. He needs to be the one to leak the information for it to have maximum impact, and that was something he was going to hold dear to himself no matter what. At least they have some leverage against Varys considering they know from Arya's accidental snooping that he is hiding someone as a Blackfyre.

Who could it be though? Clearly it had to be someone who had Valyrian blood like he did. But there were thousands of people who did. It was just in Westeros it wasn't common. Plus, there are still the female Blackfyre line somewhere in Essos. Only the males were wiped out so the name couldn't be carried on. And they were kin to him, despite it being numerous generations back now. Aegon IV had been his ancestor just as much as he had been theirs. Lesser branches aren't uncommon, even the Karstark's were one. Plus there were other Arryn's and even other Lannister's around who were too far down the line to inherit anything that came with their name.

If Lannisport had shocked him, Oldtown had taken his breath away when they finally arrived. All he could see was polished white marble and stone, reflecting the light from the sun and causing him to squint his eyes to really take it in. At a first glance, it appeared to be roughly the same size as the other city, but it was a distinct possibility that there were more people who lived here. Then there was the famous Hightower, currently ruled by Lord Leyton. Grandfather to Willas, Margaery, Garlan, and Loras Tyrell. There was no denying they would be very useful as allies, but he couldn't go there yet. The truth will need to be out before he officially takes on allies, all he can do is try to bring people in. Hopefully there will have been correspondence from Howland and Catelyn when he arrives with their endeavours. It was unlikely there would be one from Torghen considering the man is exiled. Jaeron had thought the Wall was an impressive height, but the Hightower was much larger. Apparently nearing eight hundred feet tall. They rode towards the coast once more and it didn't take too long before who could only be their guide came into view.

"Marlon and Leron?"

Both nodded at this, and it took the younger a moment to catch on to what this meant. Clearly Allyria trusted this person, and clearly there had been some correspondence between the siblings if she knew the names they were using. A small eye twitch escaped him at that, but if Arthur spotted it, he didn't say anything on it nor give any indication he had seen. The man was quite short, and from the tone of his voice, Jaeron knew he was young. Probably a third or perhaps even a fourth son of a lesser Lord trying to make a name for themselves as they wouldn't inherit anything anyway. With short curly black hair much like his own, and large eyes that were such a deep shade of brown they appeared black.

"Aye, Alleras. I believe my sister Arelia sent you to show us to our ship?"

Arelia? Clearly now they were going for names that were similar to their own. This only proving that Allyria was in on this mummery of theirs alongside the larger one of his existence. The man simply nodded before mounting his pale grey mare and directing them down a long winding road away from all the hustle and bustle of everything. Confusion sweeping in again at this, clearly wanting to keep hidden from everything. Why would they need to hide though? There wasn't a threat was there? Despite these thoughts, he kept his mouth closed, making a note to ask about that when it is safe for them to openly talk to one another without someone overhearing. It only felt like seconds had passed before they had arrived in a small harbour, probably one the locals used to fish considering the size of the ships. Some only looking like they would hold a handful of people at once. It was one of these they climbed on and an older male was already on board, Alleras leaving almost immediately. Once both horses were brought on board and they had drafted out to sea, Arthur turned to the man.

"It is good to see you again Orran, a few years since we last spoke I believe?"

Jaeron's eyes widened at this, wondering just what they were playing at now.

"Aye it has, Ser. At least we don't need to keep quiet on it for too much longer now."

Confusion was beginning to set in but the Knight caught on.

"Orran is Wylla's older brother, Jaeron. He's known the whole time, he is one of the few people in on it at Starfall."

Relief blossomed through him at this, the familiar name of the woman who had nursed him calming him massively. Tentatively, the older asked to take him in, having not seen him since he was a newborn in Eddard's arms. This was something he was not used to yet, having people really look at him in detail. That was something he would need to get used to because eventually he is going to be proclaimed King. And a King is looked at constantly. He needs to learn the art of subtlety, something Howland had been definitive with him over. He's mastered the basics, but weaving words was something else. Having to not actually say what you were meaning so as not to draw attention to oneself. Especially as he will be up against people who have had decades of experience on his few months.

"I see what you mean, definitely got his father's face. Apart from the length of it, that definitely came from Lyanna. Your hair?"

"Black and curly."

He nodded at this before untethering the boat and soon they were off into the abyss. It wouldn't take them much longer to reach Starfall, it being on the western side of Dorne and relatively close to Oldtown. If his map studying was correct, they would be passing Three Towers and Sun House. The seats of House Costayne and House Cuy. He doubted he would be able to see the Arbor off the coast, where House Redwyne resided. Another strong ally that would come in incredibly useful to his cause. Five days of sailing around the coast had them finally sailing up the Bay which was directly outside of Starfall, the sand surrounding everything once again shocking him. He had only ever seen sand once, and it was only when Lord Eddard had the Manderly's send some for them to play with when they were all babes. Rickon hadn't even been born yet, and Bran was still crawling. He didn't get to play in it though, but he had watched as the others threw fistfuls of it at one another. Even Sansa had done so, one of the very rare times she didn't care about appearance and let herself be the child she was.

When Starfall finally came into view, his eyes widened. It was small in width, but the sheer height of it was what caught his attention. Of course, it was nowhere near the size of the Wall or the Hightower, but it was certainly over a couple of hundred feet in height. With multiple towers and a sand mountain to the side. Had that been the one Arthur and Ashara had been racing one another down on planks which led to him breaking his hand and therefore learning to use his left equally as well? They hadn't sparred or trained much on their journey, getting here being their main priority. Remaining idle is not doing anyone favours, and it would only make it harder for him further down the line. The timing of everything needs to be perfect now, not a moment before and not a moment after.

"It's good to be home."

With that, the boat was brought in and Orran threw a rope tied with a specific knot so it didn't drift away, all jumping off not long after with the eldest saying he would deal with their horses. Both nodded before heading towards the castle, the deep red and cream bricks standing out massively against the pale brown sand. Arthur bent down to grab a handful of water and splashing it on his face, Jaeron doing the same. The cool water immediately refreshing him massively. How could anyone live in this heat? Then again, a lot of people would probably say that about the North and how cold it was so there wasn't much room to talk there. Three people were stood outside when they got to the door. One a young woman, probably in her mid twenties. She had long ebony coloured hair that shone in the light, with lightly tanned skin and sporting violet coloured eyes. Clearly this was Allyria. Beside her was a much older woman and despite never knowing what she looked like, he knew this had to be Wylla. The very woman who had given him suck from the very beginning. And the last was a young boy, younger than he was by a few years, with icy blonde hair and also sporting purple eyes.

"Brother, it is good to see you. Please, come inside."

Jaeron watched as the young boy's eyes widened at Allyria's words, clearly unaware of who he was. Even more people playing off one another to remain a step ahead. This could only be Edric, the heir of Starfall. The one who had accepted to be Beric Dondarrion's squire recently. He was probably waiting on the man coming here and wouldn't be here for much longer. A possible gateway to getting one Stormland's House on his side. Not a definite, but a possibility. And at this moment, possibilities are endless.

"It is good to see you as well, sister. It has only been nearing seventeen years since we saw one another last."

The young woman let out a small laugh before walking over to pull her older brother into a tight hug. They pulled away not long after before being let inside and brought to what had to be a meeting room.

"I was unaware you were alive, uncle."

There was the proof, this was Edric. It startled him a little that he didn't have ebony hair like his aunt and uncle did, clearly his mother had pale hair for him to look like this. But there was no denying the relation. All shared the same eye colour and had the exact same nose.

"I had to remain hidden, nephew. I wasn't going to bow at Robert Baratheon's feet. My King is beside me."

Now, Edric's eyes turned to Jaeron's. Silently asking for an explanation. However, Wylla beat him to this.

"Edric, we couldn't tell you due to how young you are as it could've been used against you. This young man standing in front of you is Jaeron Targaryen, Lyanna's Stark's legitimate son by Rhaegar Targaryen."

The youngest widened his eyes massively at this, not even hiding this as his head snapped around to look directly at him. This only made him considerably more uncomfortable than he already felt, but the sooner the truth was out to the Lord of the castle, the better. It doesn't matter how young he is, he is still the Lord.

"Now, introductions are not needed anymore. I think you two would like to get that paste out of your hair. I see you didn't bring any of your companions with you, Jaeron?"

He shook his head at this.

"Rhaegon and Lyrax are still growing. And Ghost is way too noticeable, he would stick out like a sore thumb. It's not a secret that we have direwolves."

Allyria nodded at his words, the smile she was wearing being very warming to him.

"I wish we could start off with a good note, but we cannot. Ravens arrived, a few of them. Stamped with direwolves, fishes, a seahorse, and a lizard lion."

Just like that, his eyes opened a little more, nodding gently to see the scrolls in question. The seals had been broken which angered him a little, but he knew he could trust them with this knowledge. They've kept him a secret from the beginning, they easily could've outed him from the day he was brought here. He recognised the seals though. Stark, Tully, Reed, and Velaryon. He opened that one first and scanned over it, relief rushing through him like a wave breaking through a dam. Monford and Aurane knew now, and Aurane had agreed to remain behind to get the measure of him. That was how it was worded, but it was clear what it meant, agreeing to be a hostage as part of the agreement from the pact. Howland's one confirmed this was the case and that he was working on finding someone to foster with them to solidify it to make it be fair.

He had fully expected for the one with the fish on it to have been from Catelyn, but he was left shocked that it wasn't. There were two scrolls inside, one from Robb confirming he had forwarded it on to him. What was so important that something was sent to him after being sent to the original recipient? But as his eyes glanced over the words, the panic began to seep in again. Arthur clearly spotted the troubled look on his face as he silently asked for an explanation. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his line of vision.

"Lysa Tully has seized Tyrion Lannister and has openly accused him of the murder of her husband."

"Please tell me you are kidding- "

Allyria simply sighed deeply at this, confirming it was not a joke of any kind.

"Fucking idiot."

Normally, Jaeron would've snorted at his straight talk, but this wasn't something to laugh at under any circumstance. He placed the parchment down on the table before finally picking up the one with the Stark seal on it. Was this sent by Robb or by Eddard? This one also had a secondary seal inside it confirming it had been forwarded on to him as well, from Howland Reed, and from the writing he knew it was from Eddard. It looked like any normal letter at first but he knew the key to it. He walked over to a candle and held the parchment just in front, reading the words written in pale yellow ink. At first, it didn't sink in for him what it meant. But soon it all came crashing down on him, immediately walking over to the table with his face clearly ashen.

"What is it, Jaeron?"

He gave them all a look at this before gulping loudly.

"My uncle has found out why Stannis fled the city and the truth Jon Arryn died for. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not Robert's children. Cersei has been cuckolding him. He has no legitimate heirs meaning- "

"Stannis is his heir, and he is preparing to take over."