Robb Stark

Winterfell, 300AC

Despite knowing it was only going to be a matter of time before he had to do this, it still did not sit right with him. It should be his father standing in this room making these decisions and not him. He was only the Acting Lord of Winterfell whilst his father was serving as King Robert's Hand. Except, everything had flipped on its axis now in spectacular fashion. No words had been spoken officially yet, but he always knew deep down he was going to support Jon in his endeavours no matter the cost, and his father's latest raven all but confirmed he had reached the same conclusion too. Robb doubted he wouldn't have done so had Robert still been alive, but he would've treaded carefully and would not have been so bold as to write it in a raven in black ink. With lemon water aye, as only they knew the trick to it, but plain black ink?

Eddard had confirmed he planned on making the truth known soon, but what truth did he mean? Was he publicly going to denounce Joffrey's claim or was he going to confess about Jon? It was times like this where he wished his father had not gone to Kings Landing in the first place so they could talk about it in detail. But no, he was alone in this, as much as he hated to think it. Almost a month had passed since that raven had arrived from Joffrey asking him to come south to bend to him, and that was the last thing he was going to do. But he couldn't remain idle for too long as that would look terrible in front of the Lords who would one day be bending to him as Warden of the North.

At least he had one parent he could rely on in these times. Recently, he had come to be pleased by having his mother run through everything he planned to do due to her shrewd mind. Whilst she had many faults, this was not one of them. When he was growing up she had never really shown her ability in said manner because southern politics don't go in hand with northern politics the same way northern politics don't align with southern politics. Whilst there were a few similarities, the differences were much more noticeable. But ever since their father confirmed the truth of Jon, out her political mind came. Remembering the time where she had calmly lectured Sansa on how the claims would and could work, and how neither could be unjustified. Yet now? One could be justified and the other could not.

The second word spreads of the royal children's illegitimacy, the war that will break out will be huge. This combined with the incoming war with Jon due to start. It was going to be a war within a war. Fighting upon fighting upon fighting. Death upon death upon death. His father always used to say a single phrase to him when they were little when they started taking lessons. Political strife causes war, and war causes political strife. A cycle that goes on and on, one that had happened for hundreds and probably even thousands of years. How many people had benefited from such things? How many had bounced back? How many fell so far down the ladder their names were just words in the wind like they had never existed in the first place?

Too many to count. That much was a certainty.

He was simply sitting at his father's desk, going through paperwork and agreeing on some decisions as he went. Any day now, they would be expecting someone of the blood of Valyria to walk into Winterfell's walls, and to say he was nervous was an understatement. Many people knew of Aurane Waters, but not as a person. Simply knew him as the famed bastard of House Velaryon. One of the very few House's where a bastard had earned his place when Addam Velaryon bonded with a dragon and fought for the Black's so long ago. They were a valuable ally to have, that was something that could not be denied. They were rich, they had one of the best navy's in Westeros, and links to the throne to boot through numerous intermarriages with House Targaryen. And now both House's may be exploding in power with cataclysmic events.

"What's on your mind?"

Robb snapped his head to be met with his mother leaning just slightly against the wall in case he didn't want her there. Whilst she'd only been back for a little more than a week, it felt like so much longer. She had sat beside him and proof read every letter he sent out to confirm if it was veiled just enough that no threat was obvious. Veiled threats were something he was not good at, nor was it something he necessarily agreed with, but it was something anyone in a high position had to do to ensure both loyalty and restraint. And he wasn't stupid, he knew some of the Northern Lord's wouldn't hesitate to overthrow him were Eddard still not alive for a little bit of glory. The Stark's were strong though, they had blood of wolves flowing through their veins and they were here to stay.

"A bit of everything really. I'm trying to figure out what father plans to do. He's confirmed he's revealing the truth but he did not state which truth exactly."

"A truth doesn't need to be a single truth, Robb. There are ways to word it. Think about it from a political standpoint and not from a young man figuring out his father's standpoint."

His eyebrows creased a little in the middle. Her cajoling him into thinking made him feel inferior, which he supposed was probably a good thing to have. But how subtle she was over it irked him in ways he never thought he could be annoyed. Licking his lips gently and eyeing the stack of ravens she had in her hands which she wasn't handing to him yet, wanting to test him first in this matter.

"Think on it from both sides, and from there work out which one is more plausible given what is about to happen. Then think does it still make sense if we weren't aware of what is going to happen?"

His head ached, that was the first thing that he realised with her gentle words. Thick Riverland's accent adorned with a slight Northern gruffness that was probably unnoticeable to many up here. But anyone in the South would've noticed it from a mile away.

"The first option is he openly denounces the royal children, confirms their true parentage. According to the raven he has already done so to the court but not to the people of the city or the realm as a whole. If he were to do so, this immediately puts Stannis as first in line, but this poses a problem as he doesn't have a son, meaning it would pass to Renly who is also rumoured to be pressing a claim. If this is the option he decides to go with, it puts the city against the crown but also the remaining Kingdom's. No matter what, the Stormland's will be against the crown even if they win or lose. If they win, because of someone seated on the Iron Throne who doesn't have the birth right. And if they lose, they are going to support Renly as their Lord Paramount."

From the simple nod she gave, he knew this was the response she wanted to hear from him.

"And what does your father hate the most? Other than tourneys that is."

A small snort left him at the last part, Catelyn cracking a small smile alongside him. A show for glorified peacocks fighting over who had the prettiest feathers. He certainly ranted time and time again every time he got invited to one about it. And Eddard almost never ranted, which only amplified his distaste for such events.

"War and death- wait."

He cut off at this as understanding covered him like a thick blanket invisible to everyone but himself. To many people, the scenario made a lot of sense, but it didn't for his father. He hated taking a life. Every time he had to behead someone; he would spend hours in the Godswood cleaning Ice repeatedly. Not speaking a single word, simply staring at the large white tree with red leaves and red sap running down the bark. Even when he was speaking about battles he had partook in, he always made sure there were as little casualties by his own hand as possible. Meaning whilst the possibility was still there that this was the route he was going down, it was unlikely.

"The second option is that he comes clean about Jon. Once this truth spreads, it becomes obvious the Lannister's are in the position they are over a false claim, it gives reason for them to lose a lot of support. It also pushes the royal children down in the line of succession which helps prevent that whole mess. Loyalist House's would likely flock to his side and through links more than half of Westeros stands united which will have the death toll be considerably less than the former would cause. Less deaths meaning a quicker war. Albeit one that would be difficult as we've been spinning that he's lost beyond the Wall-"

His mother handed him the first raven in the stack, eyes widening for a second at seeing the red three-headed dragon and also the plain black raven that confirmed it had come from Castle Black. What was this about? The seals had already been cracked, either Maester Luwin or his mother reading them beforehand which didn't annoy him as much as he thought it would. Between the three of them, there was nothing to hide. Eyes scanning over the words and a small smirk tugging at his lips. For someone who wasn't adept at politics a little more than a year prior, the difference was startling. If Robb didn't know any better, he would've guessed Jon had grown up in Kings Landing. Detailing the plan he had come up with which he seemed to have already gotten Jeor in on as the second letter went in conjunction with his brother's.

"He's getting good at the game."

"Aye, he is. Clearly the suggestion for him to be trained under Howland was a good move. That and having Arthur Dayne behind him. Someone who spent years protecting the royal family and probably was let in on a lot of plots. He's managed to have Dorne remain neutral but gotten men from Starfall behind him alongside House Dondarrion in the Stormland's. Quite impressive for someone everyone believes to be missing and nothing more than the bastard of Winterfell."

Robb shook his head at this, glad that someone was making bold political moves to help them get to a better position for when it inevitably breaks out. The seeds have been planted for a long time, the timer ticking and soon everyone would know the truth of it all.

"What are the other ravens?"

Catelyn simply handed them over to him as he took in the numerous seals. A fist, a sun, a flayed man, and numerous others. Northern Houses. Clearly these were the replies to his summons. Eyes scanning over them all and nodding silently as he done so, all offering to give men for the impending war. But then something stuck out to him.

"There's no reply from Lady Barbrey Dustin, wouldn't she want to do so considering her goodbrother is Roose Bolton?"

A long sigh left his mother at this.

"All I will say is, that woman holds a grudge like no other. Her husband was slain outside the Tower of Joy when your father found Jon, and as you'll know, your father didn't bring the bodies of him or the other five back with him. Needless to say, she took massive slight to it and I cannot blame her. This combined with the fact that your grandfather refused to consider a betrothal offer with your uncle. And in regards to her goodbrother, I think you're aware on the rumours that have circulated regarding that."

The younger winced at the last one. If gossip were true, which it ofttimes was, Domeric's bastard brother had poisoned him some months prior. He wasn't sure if he believed it or not, it could all just be gossip kitchen maids had come up with and it had spread throughout said lands and subsequently reaching Winterfell. Whilst it had never been acknowledged, it hadn't been denied either, this was a little suspicious to say the least.

"In other words we can almost certainly write off getting help from Barrowtown then?"

"I'd be willing to bet on it. Not unless Brandon rises from his tomb alive and walks into Barrow Hall."

It was a blow to say the least, but it was understandable. And even if they did, when the woman found out just who he would be bending to, this would likely insult her even more. That is the last thing they need. They will need unity, and plenty of it in order to maintain order to help. Eyes looking down to the numerous sheets of parchment again. All had detailed how many men they were bringing, those not south to Winterfell were coming here before they would be journeying south, the others confirming they would join along the way. Quickly tallying the number in his head and nodding in acceptance. Just shy of twelve thousand in total, a decent amount. Not as much as southern armies had, but three southerners matched one Northerner. Plus the fact they had dragons on their side. It was a miracle in of itself that piece of information had not spread to the Shadowlands yet. Dragons had been extinct for more than one hundred years. There was a gentle knock on the door, his granduncle walking in now. Robb had grown up hearing tales of the Blackfish, and a part of him was a giddy toddler at being in the same room as him. Eyeing the ravens on the desk in curiosity.

"What is all this about, nephew?"

It felt weird to be called that by anyone other than Benjen, but he was steadily getting used to it.

"Responses from the Northern Lords, uncle."

He'd never openly confirmed with the man what was really happening, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. King Robert's death was now common knowledge. Especially with the raven that had arrived a few days ago of Arya and Sansa being smuggled out of the capital. No word had been given on their whereabouts, just that they were taken far away from it all. One from a man named Yoren who got Arya and one from someone named Torghen confirming he had gotten Sansa. That was two less things for him to worry about.

"Who are you planning to back then if you aren't going to back Joffrey?"

Robb's lips tightened and he noticed his mother's face contort ever so slightly. Now was not the time to tell the man what was really happening and just how involved they already were. Instead, the younger looked the Knight in the eye and stated.

"The rightful heir."

Jaeron Targaryen

Greywater Watch, 300AC

His breath was haggard, and his feet ached. It had felt like hours had gone by in this intricate dance between student and master, one that showed no signs of ending whatsoever. Making sure to take short but very deep breaths at every opportunity he got, making intricate swings he normally wouldn't even dare to attempt. Especially now that there was no need to hide it in Greywater Watch. The device Mikken had made for him to cover the hilt of Dark Sister now lay at the bottom of a suitcase and the torn apart scabbard he was using had joined it. The sound of Valyrian steel hitting Valyrian steel had a haunting effect to it, ringing louder than castle forged and almost melodic to his ears.

And then there was the sound of Dark Sister and Longclaw coming into contact with Dawn. Probably the only sword in existence to have been forged from the remnants of a falling star. He was still a little clumsy, the transition from a heavier blade to a light one was difficult for him to get used to and it showed. Arthur though, he moved so fluidly it was like he were simply walking down a corridor. Time had passed, enough for his left hand to no longer awkwardly cramp and swinging with just as much force. Although, that could be from the difference in weight between the sword he was using and the one his father had left him. There were times where he wondered where he had gotten it, thinking more on it as more days passed.

The last known whereabouts of Dark Sister prior to now was Castle Black and probably beyond the Wall with Brynden Rivers when he had disappeared on that ranging. Had he left it with Aemon? If so, why had Aemon not told him that? A sword as legendary as the one he carried in his non dominant hand would likely have been the talk of the castle if people had known it was there. Perhaps his uncle had deliberately hidden it to keep one piece of his family with him at all times? But that didn't explain how it had gotten to Dorne of all places. From the long talks he shared with his uncle, he knew his father had only visited once and it was when he was a child, and Rhaegar couldn't have gotten it then. Shaking his head and raising Longclaw to block the side swipe from Dawn.

The second sword Arthur had was named Dusk, clearly going for a theme in that respect. Also castle forged but folded much more than regular steel so that it was lighter than most but not quite to the extent of Valyrian steel. Said material had never been recreated since the Doom, making it incredibly valuable and sacred. Out the corner of his eyes, Jaeron spotted numerous people in the castle watching in awe as they fought. They now knew exactly who it was who had been staying in the castle and they had wanted to watch them fight. Quite frankly, anyone would pay handsome amounts to watch the Sword of the Morning fight, and even more so against a Targaryen.

Dusk swiped upwards at him but he bent out the way and slashed Dark Sister towards the elders midsection. The Knight stepping back just enough that the tip barely grazed the light armour he was wearing. How long had they been training today? Was it minutes or hours? It was difficult to keep track considering the dense forests and swamps that made up the Neck, limited amounts of sun peeking through. Just enough to see but not much else other than that considering the island had moved to a denser area over the last few days after Alysanne's report.

Anger surged through him as he stepped up his game, desperately trying to distract himself from the betrayal he had received. Realising he had forgotten a vital piece of advice he had received from his uncle. It was better to have an honourable enemy than a dishonourable friend. Now, the repercussions of such a thing was becoming known to him. Eyes narrowing as he desperately searched for an opening but Arthur was not giving up so easily with him. If he was going to gain the upper hand in their current spar, His best bet would be to dislodge Dawn, Dusk being no match for his own blades. But the man's grip was tight, meaning he likely could not dislodge the weapon. Cursing silently under his breath and remaining on guard, feet moving in a complicated rhythm to ensure he didn't fall over.

There was no way he was going to win this bout, but if he timed it right he could perhaps draw with the man.

Jaeron tightened his own grip on his own and started spinning them with every strike, making it difficult for the older to get a hit in, a trick he had taught him a few months prior. This didn't last for long as he spotted Howland enter the courtyard with a stack of raven scrolls, nodding his head to confirm they were for him. With this, Arthur stepped away and sheathed his own swords, both wiping the beads of sweat from their foreheads with a piece of cloth. The crowd slowly disappeared as they spotted the current exchange, going back to their regular daily business, reading the calm expression on the Lord's face. A few minutes later, they were in his room, Howland sliding the letters over to him, noticing some didn't have seals on them. A quirked eyebrow was sent his way and he confirmed.

"The spies have started writing down detailed reports as they go, this is what they have gathered in the last week or so. There's only two though because there isn't much going on elsewhere currently. I haven't read any yet though as you can see."

He could see that, neither seal broken on the ones that hadn't come from their spies. Eyeing the grey direwolf confirming this one had come from Robb. A sharp snapping sound breaking the silence as he read the contents. Reading words as such felt odd to him, written words of war. His brother confirming the Northern Lords were made aware of Lord Eddard's imprisonment and of Joffrey's illegitimacy, agreeing with Robb in not supporting a Water's. The slightly older confirming the number was near twelve thousand. This combined with the couple of hundred he had gotten from Starfall plus the thousand or so he would get from the Dondarrion's brought this number even higher. And this was only those who were coming from further north and more were expected to join.

This was only the first section though, the second confirming that Catelyn had succeeded in pacifying Varys which brought a huge weight off his chest. That was something that had been on his mind from when he had left her here three months ago to head for Starfall with Arthur. Not only this, she had gone to the extent of trying to hold off the war by being able to have Tyrion walk free of charges, the dwarf apparently designing a saddle specialised to support paralysed legs for Bran. If Robb's words were true and he had no reason to say they were not, Bran was delighted and was rarely off his pony now like he had never been injured in the first place.

"Ser Arthur, what can you tell me of the Blackfish? My aunt has brought him partially in to it by going with the story that your sister and my uncle Brandon were my parents so he didn't question why she doesn't dislike me anymore."

He watched intently as the Knight's eyebrows creased in the centre. It was a theory they had come up with in Starfall too, Allyria and Edric agreeing to go along with it if need be.

"I've never fought him myself, but I have met the man a few times. Ser Brynden has a brilliant mind for tactics, so much so I remember Jaime studying them when he was still my squire."

Jaeron paused for a second in remembrance at this small fact. He forgot often that it was Arthur who took the Lannister under his wing and Knighted him.

"He's very stern in his beliefs and he knows what he wants. He used to ask me to bring it up with Aerys if a position opened on the Kingsguard to put in a word for him. Of course, I couldn't, but Oswell could. And he was related to him through marriage. From my White Brother's own mouth, he drew frequently with him, so he's definitely both a tactician and a warrior."

There was a slight tinge of respect in his tone, that much was certainly obvious. And then an idea struck him.

"You said he always asked to be a part of the Kingsguard?"

He didn't go into detail on it, but what he was really asking was obvious if reading in between the lines. Howland chuckling a little at the suggestion, clearly agreeing with it too.

"You are my Lord Commander Ser; how would you feel having the Blackfish also wearing the white cloak?"

The Knight said nothing, simply smiled a little towards the young King which was all the confirmation needed. Obviously, this couldn't happen until he had outed himself, but if they can keep the man close, it's a likely possibility. And that would only further tie the Riverland's to him and will have Lysa be seen as the black sheep of the family for sitting it out. He still wanted the Vale, but that was a tricky situation at the moment, best to leave it out currently. Moving to the next sealed scroll, the black raven of Castle Black. Tears welled in his eyes upon reading the words on the parchment, seeing that Samwell had written it confirming these were Aemon's words. Confirming how he had helped talk Jeor into spreading the word that he had never sworn his vows and had talked two brothers into taking him to the Weirwood in the Haunted Forest before slaying them and escaping to search for Benjen.

Numerous other words were on there, snorting a little as he enquired about Lyrax. If his elderly uncle wasn't blind and wasn't nearing deaths door, he knew he would've bonded with her. Remembering the blue and grey dragon regularly curling into his lap and begging for constant attention, even sitting perched on his shoulder as he walked around the partially ruined building. By the time he had finished, he realised there were a few tears in his eyes before placing it down on the wood and moving to the two spy reports there were. The first one didn't say much, only that Stannis was speaking with a Red Priestess and was discussing a takeover. There apparently being five thousand behind him (or just over four thousand considering the Velaryon men were actually on his side and were acting as insiders), meaning Dragonstone had enough people to hold it but barely enough to defend it. The Baratheon apparently adopting a new sigil of the crowned stag of his House and previously of House Durrandon encased with a fiery heart. But he couldn't take the Seat yet, far too risky.

The second one though came from Alysanne who was actively spying in Kings Landing and in particular the Red Keep for him. This one was long, being double sided and her writing was small. Clearly, she had been taking her position seriously. Scanning over the words and nodding as he went, but then he got to the final paragraph, the parchment falling from his hands to the table below as boiling anger rippled through him like it were a pot ready to spill over.

"Jaeron?"

"Torghen has Sansa, according to Alysanne's words he told her he was taking her to the King but he's deflected from our cause."

Arthur reached up to pinch his nose tightly, the younger noticing his face steadily reddening in anger too. How had they been so blind to it? Sometimes it is those that are the least likely to have a motive who are most likely to betray. Even now, the betrayal stung deeply because it ruined all of their plans. They had been working on said plans for almost a year and this was wiped under the rug when he had accepted a damned pardon from Joffrey fucking Waters.

"But if he's not taking her to you and he smuggled her out of the keep, who is he declaring for?"

"Stannis perhaps?"

Arthur's interjection brought him out of his stunned state as he read it again.

"Can't be, Pyron would've told us in his report of Dragonstone. It's only a little more than a day away by ship to the capital isn't it?"

"Renly then?"

Now, Howland snorted at the Knight, completely disregarding his courtesies at the moment as they tried to weave their way through this new mess at their feet.

"Can't be. Torghen despises Renly for some reason. Whilst we now know the turncloak is fantastic at hiding things, I think we can all categorically say he is shit at lying."

Silence surrounded them again as these words sunk in. The Lord was correct in that regard, Torghen was abysmal at lying.

"So, if he's not taking her to Renly, Stannis, Jaeron, and has gotten her away from Joffrey, where in seven hells is he taking her?"

No words were spoken as Jaeron uttered those words, understanding dawning on them all that there is a much bigger player on the board somewhere. But who could it be? As far as he is aware, no one else is declaring the throne so was he perhaps just bluffing? Possibly, but not a certainty.

"We need to have someone go down to Kings Landing to enquire about the ship she was smuggled out on, find out where it's going-"

"Jaeron, we are about to proclaim war against the Lannister's-"

"I'm fully aware of that Ser, but Sansa is my sister. I've already lost one sister that I never got the chance to know, I'm not losing one I do know even if I'm not close with her."

His words wobbled a little at the end, remembering the joyous stories Arthur would give him regarding Rhaenys. Of just how lively she had been and had retorts most adults wouldn't be able to think of and she was only a toddler. One way or another, he was going to find Amory Lorch, and he would put the man through every possible amount of pain he could draw from him before killing him. Was it inhumane? Yes. But that man was rewarded for butchering a little girl whose only crime was who her father was. And children should not be punished for the sins of their parents.

"How are we going to spin the Wall thing then? If Jeor has agreed to spin stories of this, how do we integrate back into this?"

It took Arthur barely a second to confirm the solution they had already decided on.

"We are going to put it as Jaeron gave up in the search and travelled to the coast where he met me trading as Leron. Then me taking him under my wing because he is valuable and it could help with getting more coin."

"And we could tie in the trade agreement with the Velaryon's into this, which further explains Aurane."

Howland smiled at this before nodding at the pair and leaving the room. Once he had done so, Jaeron sat down on the chair and tugged on some loose curls, letting out a low groan in irritation. It was already difficult what they were doing but this was making it even more so. Prior to this, they could guess what everyone's moves were and work from that stepping stone. But now there's someone moving and he has no idea who it is or where they are or what they want. Pulling out the chest he kept the belongings he'd been left by his parents and opening it to stare at the crowns. He had never opened this in front of Arthur, and the Knight was stunned he had it. Especially when he spotted the crowns.

"Is that?"

"Aegon the Conqueror's crown that was lost in Dorne when Daeron I started his war to bring them under our House's rule? Aye, it is. It was buried with my mother."

The Knight hesitantly reached over to pick it up, eyeing the material in complete wonder.

"Elia, it had to be. Your father often spoke of how he had wanted to find it and claim it as his own as he wasn't going to take your grandfather's with what it symbolised. She must've known who had it and traded something for it. Even to a Princess and who should've been future Queen, no one would let something as valuable as this out of their sight without a hefty gift in return."

Steadily, he reached over to hand it to the younger as he placed it back inside and picking up the other one. Just as simple as the other in its general design but an entire row of tiny rubies adorning the metal. It didn't appear to be silver now he looked at it more closely, being considerably heavier than the metal.

"It's white gold, sourced from Volantis I believe. Your father had a fascination with said metal because it looks like something it isn't, and what it is, is even more valuable. I don't understand the reasoning behind it myself honestly, as much as I cared for your father he did have the tendency to speak in riddles and not directly. This was one of many statements I was never able to decipher. The inner portion is black velvet too so it wasn't as harsh against his forehead when he wore it."

He knew that already, his fingers running along the soft interior now. Reaching up to place it on his head, noting it seemed to fit him almost perfectly. The pale metal standing out strongly against his raven curls when he took in his reflection in the looking glass. The Knight walking over and placing a hand gently on his shoulder and squeezing.

Robb would be expecting everyone to arrive at Winterfell within a few days, and then the game will be played.