The Last Wolf and the Northern Dragon

by Alperez16

Two lives are taken and two not, changing the game forever. Jon Snow is raised by his uncle Benjen to be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North while Rhaella Targaryen escapes to Essos to raise her children and plot her revenge.

17. Earning Spurs and Unravelling Mysteries

Highgarden 295 AC.

Lady Desmera Redwyne.

Her cousin could be so annoying at times.

Margaery's aversion to Jon Stark was as real as her attraction for him, yet she humored her in her delusion, for Desmera too liked the young man and wished for a match with him.

He was rich, more so than even the Redwynes according to her father, and his riches would only grow as he would into his role of Warden. Already she had seen him deal with trades with the Arbor, and how impressed her father had been by the young lord had only further endeared Jon Stark in Desmera's eyes.

She had been eager to dance with Jon Stark and found herself denied of this boon both during the wedding night and the melee's celebration the previous one. Desmera had then envied Lady Meera for the way he carried her chivalrously after the bedding ceremony blunder. The next night, she was glad to see the Lord of Winterfell only dancing with his cousin Bethany, putting an end to the speculations of something untoward between the Crannogwoman and himself.

Desmera had asked her mother to speak of a match with Lord Jon to her Uncle and Grandmother before the melee, only to be refused by both. Something which proved that they had thought of him for a match with her dear cousin Margaery, who did not seem at all wishing for one for ridiculous reasons.

While she could understand the appeal of it, Desmera did not understand her cousin's obsession with being Queen as they all knew that they were ostracized from Court. Even less with the rumors she'd heard about Prince Joffrey and his training under the Mountain. Thinking of what that monster could teach him sent chills down her spine.

"Rumors are just that. Rumors." Margaery had dismissed. "There is no point in assuming the worst if we cannot see it ourselves."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"By getting into Princess Myrcella's retinue once we'll go to King's Landing."

"And how, pray tell, do you think you'll manage this feat?"

"If Father doesn't push the request for me, then I will do it myself."

"You'll need the king to accept it. You'll need Queen Cersei to accept it. If they are as people say, it won't be easy."

"That is why I'm planning to get in through the Princess Myrcella. With Loras winning tourneys and crowning her Queen of Beauty, she'll be under his thrall, and then —"

"What makes you think I will help out with your far-fetched plan?" Loras' voice made them jump, scaring them both.

The young Lord was leaning against Margaery's door, smirking as his sister bristled at his words.

"Because you're my brother and you love me." Margaery retorted with a charming smile, the one she used to get what she wanted.

"I don't even know if I'll win this bout, let alone a joust facing the Kingsguard." Loras protested.

"Have more faith in yourself. Yesterday you were boasting about the skills you learned in the North."

"I haven't listed in a tourney yet, Marge. You're already sending me facing the Blackfish so you can ingratiate yourself in Court?"

"You can end your fostering with Prince Joffrey, too! You can earn your spurs while squiring for a decent knight!"

"A decent knight? Like the Kingslayer, or the Mountain?" He asked dejectedly.

"Better them than a nameless knight from Dorne or a foreigner exiled in the coldest place in Westeros after the Wall," Margaery answered in kind, making Desmera and Loras gasp.

"Margaery! That's uncalled for!" Desmera retorted.

"Now I see it," Loras said before Margaery could respond.

"What?" His sister asked.

"I see the spoiled brat my friends were complaining about."

"Of course, you'd say that. You love your friends more than your sister." Margaery spat, yet Desmera could hear the hurt behind her venomous words.

"Mayhaps you're not very likable at the moment either." Loras pointed out.

"Out! All of you! Leave my sight right now!" She yelled, chasing them away.

"True queenly behavior you're showing right now, Sister. If all queens were as agreeable as Queen Cersei, your wish would soon become true, Your Grace. But I doubt you'll like the outcome of the life you're setting up for yourself." Loras spat as he mockingly bowed before addressing Desmera. "Thank you for trying to keep the peace, cousin. Sorry, you had to witness this."

He didn't wait for a reply and walked away, leaving her brokenhearted seeing his slumped form retreating from the room. Never had she imagined the two siblings would come to blows this intense, as not even her bad attitude towards Jon Stark had seemed to make him see her in a bad light. Loras instead had always found excuses for her behavior when even their Grandmother had grown tired of it.

Desmera wanted to say something to Margaery, to make her see that whatever animosity she felt for Jon Stark was making the rift between her and the rest of the family grow dangerously to the point of no return. Still, Margaery's sobs prevented her from doing so.

"Come, cousin. Dry your tears and let us get ready for the day. You will cheer for Loras and show him you didn't mean to hurt his feelings." She started, stopping in her tracks as she saw Margaery's mood had changed already while the young lady caressed a beautiful sparrow. "Is it one of Willas?"

"No, but it comes to my window every day for a few days already. I think it likes me." Margaery giggled through her tears. "At least it doesn't think me a spiteful bitch."

"Marge, he —"

"I deserved it, I know. I hate that it had come to that, but he was right. I went too far. Go ahead little bird. Fly to your family and enjoy their presence while you still can." Margaery said to the bird. It chirped at her as if he understood her and seemed to hesitate, only flying away when she nodded once more.

Desmera couldn't shake that image from her head. She, who was so excited to attend the jousts, was too distracted by her cousin's behavior to enjoy the start of the day. Not when they finished getting ready, nor when they met their family and moved into their stall, not even when her uncle opened the day's festivities was Desmera able to enjoy the moment.

"It seems we have a surprise contestant on the lists," Willas said, bringing her attention back to the yard as the jousters entered it.

"Is it possible?" Mira asked, frowning.

"The list has been open until last night. He must have registered then. It solves the problem of the draws, it will be even so no additional round will be performed."

"It's a good thing, Mira," Garlan assured. "An odd number would not be fair to all the contestants who would have to do more tilts."

Desmera looked at the contestants and frowned as she recognized all of the participants' Houses but two.

"Who is he?" She wondered, pointing to the one with the green raft on a blue tabard.

"It's the sigil of Ser Symon Lake. The knight whom Loras was squiring for." Margaery said, and Desmera could feel some remorse in her cousin's voice.

"And that one standing next to Loras? He has no sigil."

"A mystery knight?" Margaery exclaimed, her eyes shining brightly.

"We will know soon enough," Willas answered.

"Knights and squires, Men of the Seven Kingdoms, I welcome you all in this jousts today. May your lances hold strong and hit true, for the woman who blessed you with her favor would be rewarded justly." Mace declared.

Loras looked resplendent in his silver armor. Willas had his youngest brother's measurements sent to him while Loras was in Winterfell and had commissioned his armor as a gift for his first joust. The details were astounding, the gold roses from the crest of his helm matching the ones of his shield painted with his personal coat of arms. The cloak of woven flowers made by his sister, cousins, and herself made him seem even more knightly, and Desmera smiled brightly as he trotted with his mare, holding some yellow roses.

"A humble present for my goodsister," he said, holding out one rose to the stall for Leonette to grab, the lady doing so shyly.

"I thank you and gladly accept this present," she said blushing while she could hear women sigh in awe and both Margaery and their grandmother rolled their eyes.

"I will try my best to make you proud, Father. For Highgarden!"

"Highgarden!" They all yell excitedly, Desmera pleased to see Margaery send a kiss to her brother and him responding as always, by pretending to catch it and place it over his heart.

Before leaving the yard, Loras rode toward the Northern stall, which Desmera was surprised to see half empty.

"Where are Lord Jon and Lord Brandon?" she wondered out loud.

"Oh, I was told by Beth this morning that they would not come," Mira said, making her gasp.

"Is the Little Lord wagering again?" Olenna japed.

"No, my lady, nothing of the sort," Mira said. "Lord Loras gave them leave to explore more of the lands, as he didn't want their presence to pressure him more."

"He did what?" Mace bellowed. "They should have been here to witness —"

"Do shut up, Mace, and look at what your boy is doing!" Olenna cut him off sharply.

Desmera watched with astonishment as Beth Stark stood up and nervously walked to Loras' extended lance. The young lady untied her hair, letting it drop while she tied the ribbon to the lance.

"How nice of her to give him her favor!" Her aunt Alerie marveled.

"She doesn't look very pleased," Margaery said, frowning.

"She doesn't like the attention on her, my lady," Mira explained.

"What is it with Northern ladies and attention?" Margaery scoffed, yet Desmera knew she was the one craving attention from her brother.

They all had dreamt of giving their favor to a worthy knight ever since they were girls learning about Florian and Jonquil. To be chosen by someone was not only a great honor, but it showed people how valuable they were within the nobility. To be then crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty raised their status even more. It was something Margaery desperately craved. As much as Desmera did, though it seemed none of them would be crowned should Loras win the jousts.

Mayhaps the mystery knight would choose one of us. she thought while looking at her cousin, wondering if she wished the same.

"Look, it's our dear little friend!" Margaery exclaimed as Desmera noticed the sparrow landing next to them.

"It is really strange that it took a liking to you. Mayhaps it's a good omen," she said in turn.

"In the North, a sparrow nesting in your room means an upcoming wedding," Mira explained, making Desmera smirk at Margaery's discomfited face.

"Good thing it had come before Leonette and Garlan's wedding, then. It's a good sign for their future."

"But they're married already, so why does it stay?"

"Stop with this nonsense, girls." Their grandmother shushed them. "Loras is about to start his duel."

"He is facing Ser Imry. Nothing to start a tourney more favorably than to beat a Florent" Garlan japed, though the atmosphere was somewhat tense.

No one had forgotten what had happened to Willas in the last joust he participated in. It was the first one Desmera had attended she could remember, and she and Margaery both cried for nights afterward. Willas' struggles to walk again and Loras' departure not yet two years after the incident had profoundly changed Margaery, and still did to this moment, as her hand held Desmera's tightly.

Ser Imry's horse was acting up, not staying in place as they both took place in their corner.

"Why is it moving so much?" Margaery asked, worry etched on her face.

"It seemed our little brother decided to use a trick of his own," Garlan explained.

"A trick, you say?" Mace repeated, frowning.

"Yes. He has chosen Ivory because she is reaching her heat period."

"Clever move, indeed. But a dangerous one too." Willas pointed out. "She can be as disturbed as the steed in front of her."

"Except he has learned this trick in the North, so he must know how to navigate this situation," Mira added with confidence.

"You're right. We'll see how it goes." Garlan said, on the verge of his seat.

They didn't have to wait for long as both contestants rode toward each other, Desmera's breath caught in her throat as Ser Imry struggled to control his mount while Loras' lance hit its target and the stall yelled in excitement when the Florent knight fell to the ground.

"First tilt!" her uncle shouted proudly. "He dismounted him at first tilt! My son!"

"Loras!"

"House Tyrell!"

"Highgarden!" were shouted toward the young Lord as he trotted proudly back to the stables, not without pointing his lance toward them in recognition.

Warmth bloomed in Desmera's heart looking around her. Her cousin had made a great impression, but none was smiling as brightly as Margaery, her eyes shining with pride and emotion.

"He can win this. I'm sure he will." she could hear her cousin say with hope in her voice.

Before she could agree, Desmera's attention was drawn to the next competitors, mostly to the mystery knight from afore.

"This is strange." she heard her uncle say. "That stallion looks familiar."

"What is it you say?" Olenna asked with her usual annoyed tone.

"Nothing, Mother."

"That's what I thought." her grandmother grumbled whilst Desmera felt bad for the way the Warden of the South was treated.

The knight facing the mystery one was of House Frey, which one was that Desmera didn't know nor did she care. The man in the simple armor and the way he carried himself intrigued her.

"May your lance hit true, kind Ser!" she yelled at him as he neared his spot next to the stalls, Desmera oblivious to the scathing looks she received from the rest of the family, only too happy to see the knight nodded in her direction.

"A Lady should not offer her favor so blatantly, Desmera. Are you that desperate to be courted or was your mother lax in your education?" her grandmother chastised her, pushing her to look away in shame.

"Apologies, Grandmother."

"See that it does not happen again."

The Queen of Thorns' remark was not enough to calm Desmera's excitement, yet she managed to restrain herself by holding onto Margaery's hand as the men rode toward each other for their first tilt. She watched with bated breath as the mystery knight raised his lance, hitting the Frey contender perfectly in the stomach and sending him flying as easily as Loras did Ser Imry.

Desmera felt Margaery's hand squeezing hers and smirked as she realized that, as always, her cousin felt the same way as she did, though she hid it better thanks to her training in Highgarden.

She just hoped they would not have to fight each other for the mystery knight's favor as they would Jon Stark's.

Highgarden 295 AC.

Benjen Stark.

Benjen had known as soon as he saw him riding that the mystery knight was one of his. He hadn't bought his son and nephews' horseshit about Loras' request, not when he had been playing this game longer than them.

Had they paid no attention at all to the stories he had told them?

It had become harder to keep them in check, Brandon, Domeric, and especially Jon. The pressure of what was awaiting them soon, as well as the upcoming end of their fostering and their own feelings, made them reckless and unpredictable. Though Benjen could understand and empathize to a certain extent, they were reaching the limits of his patience.

It had been small things first, Bran and Jon getting more involved in the Northern affairs, which pleased both Barbrey and himself, to them deciding to visit the Gift with him when they learned of the increasing wildling incursions, to them traveling to the Wall on Jon's suggestion and then to Highgarden for the wedding. Benjen had little to no say on the matter as Jon and Loras banded together to get all of their foster friends to agree. However, it was more of what Jon requested afterward that brought Benjen grief.

His nephew was to travel to Starfall after the tourney, and nothing he could say or do would change Jon's mind on the matter. He blamed the Reeds for that, both Howland and Jyana pressing for him to let Jon meet with his adoptive mother. Benjen knew it was unreasonable to resent Ashara for the bond she shared with Jon, yet part of him still felt it was unfair. The ghost of Ned and the remainder of his absence through Arthur Dayne's blade made it difficult for Benjen to move forward, as well as the thought of Lyanna being the one who should have been called mother by Jon and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

Yet it was Lyanna's memory that now came back to haunt him this instant as he watched the mystery knight riding back to the stables.

"Bethany," he called, making his daughter jump in her seat.

"Father?"

"Where did you say your brother and cousins went?"

"I… Erm… They said they would explore the lands nearby."

"And when did they tell you that?"

"After the feast. Loras came to them and -"

"You know you will be in a lot of trouble if you lie to me, do you?" he cut her off coldly.

"I…"

"That horse. The one the mystery knight is riding. I saw Loras train with it yesterday." he pointed out, gritting his teeth as he heard his daughter let out an expletive. "Which one of your kin is it?"

"I don't know. Truly, Father. I swear I don't. They just made me swear not to say anything because they knew you would be mad." she pleaded and he could feel through her desperation that she was being sincere.

"Now it all makes sense!" The Greatjon exclaimed, to Benjen's annoyance. "I didn't think the lads would miss their friend's first tourney."

"They've been forbidden to participate." Benjen countered sternly.

"I still don't understand why you wouldn't let them compete in the melee or the jousts. They are good, better than most of the Southerners."

"They may be skilled enough, Jon, but they lack the discipline to do so yet." Benjen lied, not wanting to admit the true motive behind his refusal.

While the Stark cousins were both good in melee, Jon was truly his parents' son. Jousting hadn't come to him naturally, but riding had, and he had polished his talent through the years. Seeing Jon ride in Winterfell against Loras or Domeric reminded him too much of Rhaegar during the Tourney of Harrenhal, and he couldn't take the risk of having Southerners making the same connection.

"Such wasted potential." the Greatjon sighed loudly. "Hopefully the lad will make us proud, whoever he is."

Benjen prayed to the Old Gods it was a defiant son he would have to punish, or that it would be Roose Bolton's wrath he would have to face rather than his wife's.

Domeric's defiance toward his father was another matter that almost gave Benjen premature grey hair. The Lord Regent knew what his goodbrother was after and while he was glad to see Beth and Domeric close, the thought of his precious daughter living in the same keep as the Leech Lord terrified Benjen.

"Domeric would treat her well. Better than most of the boys asking for her hand." Barbrey had assured.

"You know he doesn't love her. Not the way she deserved to be loved."

"Willam didn't love me either, yet he was a good husband. A husband who accepted the ruined woman I was and allowed me to love whom my heart wanted to, as I did him. Beth and Domeric would be no different."

"Willam didn't have Roose Bolton as a father."

"Domeric always shielded our daughter. He will continue to do so, and so will our family."

"I will not push the match, Barbrey."

"Oh, my sweet husband. You are one of the smartest men I've ever met, yet you can be so oblivious at times." Barbrey had chuckled. "They won't need you to push anything."

Benjen had observed his daughter around Domeric and his goodnephew's attitude towards her ever since Loras' departure. He could see the bonds between the two cousins strengthening and he hadn't been the only one to notice so, to his dismay. Roose's underlined comments were getting on Benjen's nerves, as well as his own nephew's. Jon was even more acutely aware of who sought whom for a match than Benjen was. His own included.

"We received another invitation to King's Landing, Uncle. Both me and Beth. We cannot keep ignoring them. Especially if we go to Highgarden." Jon said to them as they sat in Benjen's solar.

"We will write that we were obligated to do so because of Loras."

"And the King will ask us to join him on the journey back when we'll be there. Same as you did after the Greyjoy Rebellion."

"I told you it was a bad idea from the beginning."

"Not going to Highgarden would be perceived as a slight by the Tyrells. Especially now that Loras' fostering has ended so abruptly."

"It needn't be the case." Benjen had pointed out. "Had you all but told me what was going on, I would have –"

"Found a way to keep Loras here? Aye, I know you would have, but it would have been Domeric who would have left before his time instead."

"He is set to leave anyways, Jon!"

"I know, but it gives Beth more time to prepare…" Jon started before shaking his head and sighed.

"To prepare for what?"

"Never mind, Uncle. 'Tis not my place to tell." Jon said and Benjen almost was transported back to a time he wished had never happened. Only now he was in his father's place and not pleading his sister's case.

"Not your place? Are you keeping secrets from me again? About my own family?"

"That's not it, Uncle. I know what keeping secrets did for our kin, and in this case, I would rather have you see for yourself what is going on, for even Beth is not aware of her feelings on the matter."

"But you think having Loras leave was better than Domeric."

"Aye."

"Is she… Infatuated with her cousin?"

"There is nothing but pure love between the both of them. Sibling love."

"Then why –"

"He is what my mother was to you, Uncle," Jon said sadly, making Benjen's heart clench in pain. "Their bond is one of a kind, and as there is no length to what you would do for your sister, even after her passing, the same can be said for Beth. You always said that Beth was like Mother, but while I can see how willful and stubborn she can be, she has your heart, Uncle. The last thing I want is for hers to be broken as yours was."

Benjen had been too stunned to speak and Jon had never wished to broach the subject afterwards. He had mourned the fact that his nephew never came to him to voice his feelings on important matters anymore, as every conversation concerning their family ended with raised tensions more or less caused by their shared stubbornness.

Benjen was not ready to let Jon rule, not because he thought him unable to do so, but rather he still wanted to shield him from any repercussions his future decisions would have. Jon, however, was in his rebellious phase, frustrated by people plotting around him and obsessed with his family's protection. Even more so since Viserys Targaryen's disappearance. Unfortunately for Benjen, his nephew had inherited his parent's worst traits, as he showed when he decided to open the trading post of the North. The idea was a good one, to act as a relay between the Iron Bank and their vassals, the execution however not one Benjen had liked.

Jon had named Asher Forrester as his envoy in Essos and Jorah Mormont as the representative to their trading posts in the North, which had greatly vexed the Whitehills and their overlord by extension. Roose had made his discontent known multiple times, stating that rewarding someone meant to be exiled and another who had been publicly shamed reflected badly on Jon's loyalties. To which Jon replied by stating that as long as he would rule Winterfell, all of his lords and ladies would be given a chance to redeem themselves. Benjen respected the sentiment behind it but did not welcome the headache of Roose's incessant requests that followed.

Not wanting to give in to the betrothal proposal made by his goodbrother, he had talked to Jon about giving Roose a role of import in the trade, yet it was Domeric who had been offered it instead as a way to placate his father.

"If we start giving into Roose Bolton's demands now, there will be nothing we will be able to refuse him later on," Jon stated.

The second bout of the joust was about to start and Benjen spotted Loras' shiny armor from a corner of the yard. He instinctively stood up, ordering his daughter not to move, and managed to make his way toward his former ward, who tensed as he saw him approach.

"My Lord? Why did you come here?"

"Why, to wish you good fortune." Benjen lied, finding it coming annoyingly smoothly. "Now that you have my daughter's favor, you ought to at least get to the finals."

"If my gesture has displeased you, my Lord, I give you my sincere apologies."

"Why would it displease me? 'You're her most trusted friend and a friend of our family. You honored her, though I was surprised you did not ask for your sister's favor or your goodsister's."

"I made a promise to Beth, my Lord."

"Aye, I've heard you did so when we arrived. I just hope it won't put you at odds with your family."

"I haven't thought of this that way."

"Of course you haven't. Else you would not allow your friend to enlist in the jousts knowing full well his family was against it." Benjen growled, staring at him pointedly.

"My Lord, I –"

"I know it's not Bran. He knows he is not past a beating from me should he disobey my orders."

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I cannot –"

"I know you're too loyal to them to betray their trust. What you can do instead is prevent them from getting into more trouble. Tell them to abandon this folly before they get hurt."

"With due respect, my Lord, I doubt he would listen to me. None of them do."

"Then why did you agree to help them?"

"Because… It may be their only chance to become a knight." Loras said, making Benjen shudder as he understood now their motive.

Both Domeric and Jon wanted to earn their spurs, though for different reasons. Domeric loved the pageantry of the South, the idea of being one of the rare knights of the North to distinguish himself in time of peace, contrary to Ser Rodrik and Ser Jorah who had been knighted because of their bravery during the wars they fought.

Jon, on the other hand, wanted to become a knight because of honor. Benjen remembered the day he heard about his nephew and new friend's promise to each other to push the other to become the best knights they could. That both of them squired under the same knight motivated them, even more, to prove their worth and keep up with their progress.

"Your reasoning may be noble, Loras, yet it will not help them should they injure themselves."

"Then let us pray it does not happen, my Lord. With your leave." Loras bowed, leaving Benjen both perplexed and in awe of his ward's unyielding loyalty.

My children couldn't find better friends. He despaired, including Jon as his own in his thoughts.

It hadn't been the first time he would have. Jon may be Lyanna's child and consider himself his nephew, but Benjen truly thought of him as his firstborn. Barbrey too made no difference in her mind between the children she had borne and their nephew, for both of them would sacrifice their lives for any of this lot. Their very own pack.

Would that Jon saw them the same, yet Benjen knew from the way his nephew behaved that he had built walls between them. Though he had no doubt how much he loved them, he could feel the conflict within Jon growing as he did.

Turning back with a sigh, Benjen's attention was drawn to a bird flying away from him. He shook his head as he thought for a moment of his ward Meera and how sometimes it felt as if every living thing, birds especially, responded to her.

Benjen had his suspicions about the Reeds being wargs ever since they had found the direwolves thanks to Meera's meltdown. The girl knew things like her father, things she was not supposed to know, yet she didn't seem like one who would intently spy on people to discover secrets. Or at least Benjen would have believed until she got closer to Jon and he in turn began to know things he was not supposed to.

Bran, Beth, and Little Ben had all bonded with their direwolf almost instantly, the beasts being at times a manifestation of their companions' emotions, if not a means to stop them when it came to Lynara and his wolf-blooded daughter. None of their bonds were as similar as Jon and Ghost's were, however, and the years proved to Benjen that Jon intended to master that bond. The white direwolf was almost an extension of Jon's fighting skills, as it disposed of the wildlings who intended to harm them and alerted Jon of an attack against their camp when they were traveling to the New Gift.

"I felt it too. I felt Mercy's unease and anger, but I didn't understand what went on. I'm not quite at Jon's level when it comes to mastering it." Bran admitted after Jon told them of the warning.

"Mastering what?" Benjen had asked, frowning.

"His bond with Ghost. Oftentimes I get scared of the feelings, but Jon embraces them fully. He said it came easily for him because he felt the same with Egg." Bran shrugged.

It had taken some time for Benjen to get used to the possibility of his children being untrained wargs, though by the time they got back to Winterfell it was the last of his worries. Just as thoughts of Direwolves and bonds or almost any other thing were once again. The sight of the Mystery Knight focussing all of Benjen's thoughts and raised his worries once more.

Highgarden 295 AC.

Mace Tyrell.

Loras' return was something he welcomed and very much did not at the same time. Having him in Winterfell next to Jon Stark, especially given who he knew Jon Stark truly was, could only be beneficial to his House in the long run. So while Mace had been happy to see his son again, he'd worried that it would create issues in the years to come. Which was why he'd been so eager to throw such a large tourney for Garlan's wedding.

Not that he'd not have done so anyway, mind, but with Loras now living once again at Highgarden and his fostering seemingly over with, Mace was eager to meet with the Starks once more. Given that his son was no longer fostered at Winterfell, the reasons for such a meeting weren't so easily found. So the wedding and the tourney allowed for the Starks to come to Highgarden rather than for Mace or his mother to find some reason why they would visit the North.

Mace had been on tenterhooks after the raven had been sent to Winterfell. A worry that the Starks would find a reason not to attend had taken root in his mind and so when the reply came that they would do so, he'd been more than relieved. Upon seeing them in front of him, greeting them and welcoming them to his home, even more so. Though he'd found himself faced with ghosts of the past when he'd done so. Jon Stark had been fortunate that he took his coloring from his mother, for to look at the boy it was like seeing Rhaegar reborn. Or at least that's how Mace felt when he welcomed the future king to his home.

"I look forward to seeing you compete, Lord Jon," Mace said eagerly.

"The North cares not for tourneys, Lord Tyrell and neither my son, nephew, or Ser Domeric will be competing." Benjen Stark replied. Mace allowed the words to go unanswered and instead looked into a pair of dark grey eyes that almost looked indigo in the morning light.

He had spoken to Loras since. Asked his son whether or not there was another reason why Jon Stark, his cousin, or his uncle's ward would not be competing. Loras told him that Lord Benjen worried about the inherent dangers that competing in a tourney brought and Mace understood that all too well. It had cost his oldest son the use of his leg and made him someone who many in the realm looked down upon because of it. None of them saw that Willas was as clever as any man in Westeros and was much more talented in other areas too. His breeding of hawk, hound, and horse was more than enough to prove that to any with eyes to see.

It was with thoughts such as this that he took his seat and watched the melee. Mace smiled broadly to see it won by Syrio Forel. The knowledge that Jon Stark was being trained by such a man was something that brought him great comfort. Had his father been as diligent in his studies in swordplay as he was with his search for knowledge then it may yet have been Rhaegar Targaryen who sat the Iron Throne instead of Robert Baratheon.

'Though had I not been a fool it may not have even come to the Battle of the Trident' Mace thought bitterly as he looked at his mother.

Long after the melee was over and done with, Mace found himself contemplating such thoughts. Not even Alerie's words or soft caresses could tempt him from the malaise he found himself in. Memories of days gone past and the shame he'd worn ever since them, something that only future events would see him rid of. Regrets once earned always took a long time to right after all.

Regret he did. Mainly his inaction. The stupidity of the plan his mother had come up with and what it had cost them all. It had led him to perform a mummery for more years than he could count. To accept the scornful looks aimed his way and to play a role that he wished he was ill-suited for. Mace Tyrell the Oaf of Highgarden had been born on the day that news reached them of Rhaegar's death. So much so that by the time that Eddard Stark had come and bid them kneel, it was the Oaf and not the man he'd once been that had done so.

Waking up from a night of disturbing dreams and fitful sleep, Mace was surprised to find he had an appetite when he broke his fast. Seeing Garlan so happy with his new bride, looking forward to the jousting and watching Loras compete, all helping much in this regard. However, seeing Margaery once again turn up her nose at something that Jon Stark said or did, very much did not. Mace shuddered as he remembered the night of the opening feast and how and who Jon Stark had left with. Alerie's words now came back to worry him somewhat.

"Should we tell her?" Alerie asked.

"No, not yet. I fear the change in her demeanor would be too noticeable and my mother still isn't aware that we know the truth."

"I fear our daughter is cutting off her nose to spite her face, husband."

"How so?"

"You saw the feast, how Jon Stark was with Lady Reed."

"Loras tells me they are no more than siblings, my love."

"Yet, to our daughter to not show some jealousy…"

"Alerie?"

"Men need to know they're wanted, Mace, as much as women do."

At times, however, there were little signals that Margaery was very much interested in Jon Stark. Little looks and smiles that Mace would see his daughter show when she thought no one was looking her way. As for Jon Stark, be it his nature or that he was preparing himself for what he would one day become, the young man was hard to read at the best of times. Friendly enough, warm and compassionate to those he cared about, yet a closed book to others which would stand him well. Even if it frustrated Mace a little as he sought signs of Jon's interest in his daughter.

With Lady Reed, Mace had seen what Loras had claimed was truly between them. It was love, true, but certainly more a sibling kind than that between a man and woman. He'd seen his niece's interest in the young man as well and that was somewhat more troubling. Desmera came from a powerful House and should his mother wish for them to be matched rather than Jon Stark and Margaery, it would be hard to go against her. Hard, but not impossible, for Mace wished for his daughter to be queen and not simply because it secured the future of their House. Not even simply because he felt that Margaery would make a good queen who would see the realm prosper alongside her husband. Mace wished for it because he was almost certain that should she and Jon Stark wed, the realm would be the better for it. As too would his future king and queen.

Later that day, he sat in the stands and watched as Loras unseated his first opponent. Mace cheered his son happily and then looked on eagerly as Ser Symon matched Loras by winning his tilt just as easily. When he saw the Mystery Knight, it was the man's horse more than anything that took his attention. So much so that he almost blurted out that it was one of Loras' and then he cursed himself for doing so. Mace was happy for once for his mother's sharp tongue and for the image he'd carefully crafted to allow his words to go unnoticed.

It was as he saw the Mystery Knight ride that he recognized the rider. A quick look at where the Starks were sitting to prove him right. While both Domeric Bolton and Brandon Stark were missing too, Mace knew full well that neither was the rider he was looking at. He still vividly rememberedHarrenhal and while Jon Stark seemed far more comfortable while riding a horse than his father ever was, he wielded his lance much like Rhaegar did.

Turning to look to where Margaery sat with her cousins, he could see his daughter was transfixed by the Mystery Knight as were each of the other girls. Ever had it been the same when a knight arrived in the tilts to make a name for themselves and did so while incognito. However, his mind now turned to a different Mystery Knight and Mace remembered it was honor and not glory that the knight had ridden out for. As he did the furor of the king when the knight had refused to reveal themself.

He was lost in such thoughts when the Mystery Knight began to ride toward where Margaery and her cousins were sitting. A soft elbow to his ribs from his wife and the hushing of the crowd quickly forced his attention back to the joust and the knight that every member of the crowd was now looking to. Moving close to Alerie, Mace whispered in her ear who the Mystery Knight truly was and then found himself sitting with bated breath the closer Jon Stark's horse got to where Margaery was sitting.

Again, albeit briefly, Mace found himself transported in time. A prince of the realm riding not to his wife but to a different young lady as he crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty. Mace feeling his heart in his mouth as a voice that sounded very much as if it was from the South and not the North began to speak. Alerie held her hand to her chest beside him, and Mace reached out to take her other hand in his own before offering her a comforting squeeze and kiss on the back of her fingers.

"Lady Margaery, I would ask for your favor." Jon Stark asked, Margaery smiling beamingly at him as she took a ribbon from her hair and tied it to his arm.

"You are a bold man to do so, Ser Mystery Knight, and we at Highgarden shall always reward men who are bold," Margaery said. Mace wondered if his daughter meant simply the action of the Mystery Knight or if she was referring to a knight who now stood by his queen's side. Certain that it was the former and that most if not all in the crowd would see it that way.

"A man needs to be bold to make a name for themselves in the lists, my lady. Yet, to wear the favor of the Rose of Highgarden is reward enough itself."

"So you intend not to win, Ser?" Margaery asked playfully.

"I would not have dared ask your favor if I hoped to lose, my lady."

Mace, Alerie, his mother, almost every lady and dare he say it, man, in the crowd sat transfixed as Jon Stark and Margaery conversed. Neither of them strayed over the lines of decency and yet it was clear that Margaery was flirting and being flirted back with. He wondered if his daughter would be so free with her affections if she knew who it was that was hidden under the helm. Soon, however, he found he cared less about that and more about the fact that listening to Jon Stark's words, showed the future king at least had the same level of interest in Margaery as she did him.

As the day continued, Mace found himself looking from the tiltyard to his daughter more than once. To his mother and the Starks less often but still enough to see the different reactions the day wrought from each of them. His mother seemed annoyed and irked, and Mace found he both liked it and welcomed it. It showed that she knew not who the Mystery Knight was and since Mace was feeling petty and unforgiving over her orders to him all those years ago, he enjoyed seeing her in the dark for once. Lord Benjen looked just as annoyed, though there was much worry in his expression too, proving Loras' words even more true.

As for Margaery, while she cheered Loras on just as eagerly as she cheered on the Mystery Knight, it was clear to Mace who she truly wished to see win. Mace because of it found himself cheering against family for once. Silently though he did so.

That night after he and Alerie had lain together and while his wife slept peacefully beside him, Mace found his thoughts drifting to the day to come. The Joust would end today and where once he would have hoped to see Loras take the day, he now wished to see a Mystery Knight prevail. Mace wondered if Jon Stark did so, would he crown his daughter the Queen of Love and Beauty as a Mystery Knight or would he do so as himself? A thought that made him wile away the hours to morning and which had him rising far earlier than he normally would.

"Today I'll see my daughter crowned, either by a mystery knight or by the man the realm believes to be Eddard Stark's son. Either way, the crown will be presented by the man she'll one day wed." Mace said confidently.

Highgarden 295 AC.

The Joust.

Ser Symon Lake.

It had been some time since he'd wielded his lance in a tourney. Symon finding that to do so as Symon Lake and not as Richard Lonmouth was a much different thing. The ghosts of the past and memories of days gone by were something that he had to struggle to let go of as he crashed his lance against his opponent's shield. Images of a Silver Prince, of The White Bull looking on and judging men worthy or unworthy of one day wearing the white cloak, interspersed with images of a princess holding her babe and cheering them all on.

Faces in the crowd and those of the men he faced would be swapped with those of men long since dead and some he longed to see once more. Rhaegar, Oswell Whent, Prince Lewyn, Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, or Myles Mooton more often than not when Symon looked at the young squires rushing to and fro. It almost cost him his first match and he cursed himself for letting it do so. His plans here today required him to have a much better showing than losing to a hedge knight from the Stormlands.

After he'd put aside most of the ghosts, for now at least, Symon found his attention split between the two young men he'd planned to knight. Only one of them would now earn that honor here and looking to the other, Symon did so proudly. Aemon was right, it needed to be Loras and Loras alone that he knighted in this place. Besides, many other places bore as much import to his king to see him knighted there instead. So, he'd taken his words to heart and now just needed to last long enough in the tilts to see it through.

"You truly are a show-off aren't you," Aemon said from beneath his covered helm, Loras chuckling at the words as he then bowed over extravagantly.

"I mean to make my name here today, Mystery Knight."

"And showing off is how you'll do so?"

"Watch my next tilt and tell me after if I'm not making my name."

"I'd have you be more careful, Loras."

"Oh, I am, the rest is just for show, my friend."

With Loras now riding to face his second tilt of the day, this one against a knight from House Banefort, Symon moved his horse closer to Aemon's own.

"See, a bloody show-off." Aemon japed as Loras handed his second flower of the day, this time to Aemon's cousin Beth whose favor Loras wore.

"So no flowers for you then, Mystery Knight?"

"Should I be fortunate enough to win, there'll be flowers enough," Aemon said determinedly.

"And which lady would be lucky enough to see herself crowned your queen?" Symon thought not of the words as how they sounded and meant them as the recipient of the garland, though Aemon's words named them true all the same.

"I can crown but one, Ser Symon, as well you know."

Loras winning his tilt in three was enough to stop any further words. Aemon then rode out to face his second opponent of the day and Symon worried a little for him as he did so. Ser Lyn Corbray was a far more experienced jouster than Aemon was and a much larger and stronger man. Though looking at the knight from the West that Symon himself was to face, did at least allow him to breathe a little easier. Better it was Ser Lyn than the Strongboar.

"Well done, Loras," he said as Loras preened under the crowd's adulation. His handing out of flowers as well as how accomplished he was with a lance in hand, was enough for them to do so.

"Ready for your tilt, Ser?"

"I am, though I worry about this one." Symon motioned to where Aemon and Ser Lyn were now racing toward each other.

"Don't be, the Mystery Knight has this."

Despite how confidently Loras said the words, it took Aemon five tilts to unhorse Ser Lyn and he took more than one strike to his breastplate before doing so. Checking that he was unharmed and relieved to find out he was, Symon rode out for his tilt with wishes of good fortune ringing in his ears.

The strength of his opponent was clear in the first strike against Symon's shield. A blow that almost took his shoulder from its socket, such was the power behind it. On the second, Symon managed to deflect it better with his shield as he did again on the third. Riding down with his lance in hand on the fourth, he felt his horse was moving far better than the Strongboar's was, something that his unseating of the man proved. Symon then jumped from his horse when Ser Lyle moved not.

"I…by the gods that took the wind from me." The Strongboar said as Symon helped raise his head and offered him some water from his pouch.

"I'm relieved to see you well, Ser Lyle."

"As am I to be so, Ser Symon."

"Your horse?"

"Lost a shoe, though let that not take away from your victory, Ser, well won and well earned it was.

"Another day, mayhap."

"Another day, Ser Symon." Ser Lyle said as Symon helped him to his feet. The crowd cheered wildly upon seeing him do so and at the fact that the Strongboar was unhurt.

Twice more he rode and other than his match against Ser Gunther Hightower, Symon faced nor defeated anyone of note. Aemon won his own two tilts far more easily, two more knights of the West falling to the future king's lance. While Loras passed out more flowers and won each of his two tilts with aplomb.

There was no sign of Aemon at the night's feast. His uncle and cousins attended while Aemon and Meera Reed did not. The next morning he was there as they broke their fast and once they'd done so, he, Domeric Bolton, and Brandon Stark all left the room together. Symon felt the mummery was already discovered and other than those with not the wits to see, everyone already knew who the Mystery Knight was. He'd not begrudge the boys their fun, however.

Three more rounds and then it would be the final. Ser Lyonel Frey was up first for Aemon while Loras was to face off against Ser Alekyne Florent, someone Symon knew he held no love for. House Florent still bristled that it was House Tyrell and not them that ruled the Reach and some wounds never healed truly, as Symon knew full well. Ser Baelor Hightower was to face off against Ser Patrek Mallister, while Symon, to his ill fortune had drawn the heir of Seaguard's father, Ser Jason. A far more accomplished jouster than his son could ever dream to be.

He almost laughed at how annoyed Aemon was when he won his tilt in four, Ser Lyonel must have had good fortune to have gotten this far. Later Symon found out that it was because of an injury to Ser Daven Lannster that he'd done so. As for Loras, his wielding of a lance was exceptional and he took his tilt in three. No ill feelings or urge to take it further were shown by either man as Loras rode back and Symon rode out to face his own. One he knew would not be so easy.

"Good fortune, Lord Mallister."

"To you too, Ser Symon."

The first four tilts were shared. While the next two went to Lord Jason far too easily. Symon found no way past the man's shield and his efforts to do so had led to two strikes to his chest, one of which almost unhorsed him. As he rode down for the seventh, he tried something he'd seen Ser Arthur do against Prince Lewyn, and to his shock and surprise, not only did he pull it off, but it earned him the win. Some odd looks from a few in the crowd too much to his dismay.

Both Aemon and Loras spoke of the changing of hands with awe and then agreed they'd not be so foolish to try to do so themselves. Symon explained that it was the only chance he had of beating the Lord of Seaguard and once it had been seen, others would expect it which removed it of its usefulness. Truth be told, he'd been desperate and had expected it to fail, as dropping your shield so you could move your lance to that hand, really should have cost him his mount.

Waiting for the draw, he was happy to see it was him against Loras, Aemon drawn against Ser Baelor which at least put a smile on his face. Readying to ride out, Symon nodded to Aemon and his squire, stopping Loras from riding to the end of the tiltyard once he'd given out his rose, this time to one of his cousins.

"A moment Loras if you will," Symon said as he dismounted and bid the young lad who'd squired so ably for him to do likewise. The young Northern lad who served him for now then ran out with his sword and scabbard and handed it to Symon before he ran back to ready his lance." Kneel."

"Ser?" Loras said, his voice full of emotion.

"Kneel a boy and rise a man, Loras. A true knight of the realm." Symon's words were loud enough that they carried to the crowd and a hush came upon them as he unsheathed his sword. "Loras Tyrell, I dub you worthy to be knighted and do hereby name you Ser Loras Tyrell. In the name of the Warrior, I bid you to be fearless. In the Name of the Mother I bid you to show compassion. In the Name of the Father, I bid you to be just. In the Name of the Smith I bid you to use your skills for good and not ill. In the name of the Crone, I bid you to show wisdom. In the name of the Stranger, I bid you to show mercy where it's due, and In the Name of the Maiden, I bid you to protect the innocent. Arise Ser Loras Tyrell, Knight of the Realm."

The cheers were deafening and there were tears in Loras' eyes as Symon nodded to him. Aemon clapped his hands as did Ser Baelor Hightower, Aemon's opponent in the other semi-final and Loras' uncle. Looking to where his family sat, Symon could see Margaery weep tears of joy as did Lady Alerie. Mace looked on proudly though was outshone in this endeavor by Lady Olenna. Turning to the Starks, Symon could see that they too were just as happy and as proud of Loras as his kin were.

"You deserve this, Ser Loras. Not simply for what you've done here during this tourney, but because of how you are in here." Symon touched Loras' breastplate at the spot where his heart would be beneath it. "You earned this, and I wished it to be at mine own hands it was given. Never doubt that or think yourself named only because of who your family is, for I named you because of you and not them, on this I vow."

"I…thank you, Ser, truly….thank you."

They took a few moments before mounting back up on their horses. The ride to where they'd start their tilt was one done together and a simple nod of Loras' head once they reached it, was the only acknowledgment given. Then, less than a few moments after naming Loras a knight of the realm, Symon faced his lance.

Five he took him to and four of them were only down to the gods themselves as any of them could have cost him his mount. The fifth doing just that and rarely had he seen a strike so perfectly executed. Rising to his feet as Loras moved to make sure he was well, Symon simply repeated what he'd said.

"You earned it, Ser, forget that not."

"Ser Symon." Loras bowed his head.

"Ser Loras."

Aemon took his tilt in six. Five of which he won handsomely and only lost the one due to ill fortune. Ser Baelor though was no match for Aemon this day and Symon wondered if the gods were truly watching. His thoughts then turned not to them but to those they'd taken from the world and who should truly have been bearing witness here today.

"He is your son, my prince, my princess. Would that you could have seen him grow as I've been lucky enough to do."

Taking his place in the stands, Symon like each and everybody there felt the hum of anticipation as the two riders rode out to face each other in the final. None more so than Margaery Tyrell who though she cheered openly for her brother, cheered just as loudly for the Mystery Knight who wore her favor as well.

Loras Tyrell.

All through the tourney his mind had been on other things instead of the joust. Yet it was only when he was riding with his lance in hand did he feel at peace. Try as he might, Loras couldn't push aside his feelings when it came to Domeric. Seeing him in the flesh, spending time with him even though it was at a distance, or simply hearing him speak or play his harp, all being boons to his spirit and a strain on his heart. As for being with Beth again, gods, the girl was too good for the world they lived in.

Loras knew that he'd embarrassed her somewhat by asking for her favor. He knew too that his sister had liked it not. Though Margaery had soon found a Mystery Knight she was more than happy to give her ribbon to. However, there could and would have been no one else he'd have sought to honor during this tourney than Bethany Stark. The girl may not be a sister of his blood but she was most certainly one of his heart and what she'd wished to do for him and Domeric, only proved that even more true.

A part of him had wished for Domeric to accept the offer. While a larger part of him couldn't allow Beth to give up her hopes, dreams, and future for that of Loras and his love's. Selfish though he could be at times, he could never be that selfish, and certainly not with someone as precious to him as Beth.

"You could wed me then. It would keep you in Winterfell and the Dreadfort is only a two-week's ride."

"Would that I could, little wolf."

"Why are you both so stupid."

"Beth…"

"No, by the old gods, it's clear where your heart lies, and yet…."

Loras had embraced her tightly and let her loose all her frustrations about how stupid he and Domeric were being and the world they lived in and its cruelty. Then he'd told her that he loved her, that she was as true a sister to him as Margaery was, and this time it had been Beth who'd embraced him.

'If only things went as smoothly with his sister by blood as they did with his sister by choice' Loras thought to himself.

When Jon had come to him and asked for help in being a Mystery Knight, Loras had been only too eager to provide it. He understood not why Lord Stark was so against Jon and Brandon competing. Though the latter was a poor jouster in truth. Jon, however, was a match for him in the yard due to his horsemanship. Loras may have the edge with his lancework, but Jon was a far better horseman than he and so they were evenly matched most days. True, he won more than he lost, but he lost enough to name it so, in his mind at least.

So he'd given Jon one of his horses, helped him to find out where to armor himself, and then had looked on as his friend had asked his sister for her favor. Loras found himself smiling at the sight and thoughts of them being betrothed or even wed. There were few men he believed were good enough for his sister as it was and Jon Stark would always be at the top of that very short list. If he could only get Margaery to see the truth she was so desperate to lie to herself about.

"There is much there between them."

"You think so?"

"Aye, I've seen how your sister looks at Jon sometimes, I well know that look."

"Dom I…"

"As for Jon." Domeric interrupted, not allowing Loras to speak words on a subject they had promised not to bring up with each other. Hard though it was to speak together and not speak of that. "Were she to just show him that which she hides from him, I believe Jon would feel it too."

"You do?"

"She'd be a better match for him than the one the Stag may seek, Loras. And tell me true, do you know of a better man for her to be wed to than Jon?"

"If there is such a man I've not met him, Dom, nor I wager have you."

"Aye."

Yet his sister would not give in to the feelings she had and instead shared some silly notion of becoming queen. Some tales from the songs about a prince that Loras knew not or cared not to know, given how his father spoke about their House and Family. It made him wonder if his family was cursed never to be with the one they should be. Only for one look at Garlan and Leonette to prove that untrue. His brother had found love with his new wife and Loras had honored her as best he could with the first flower he'd given out.

Then he'd honored himself by winning the tilt that followed. As he had the one after and it was not until he faced Ser Alekyne Florent that other thoughts ran through his mind. The words the big-eared fox spoke about Margaery were enough to put even further weight behind Loras' strikes. His anger carried through despite the words he spoke to Ser Symon and Jon and it was only when he rode out to face off against the man he'd squired for that Loras found something else to ponder on.

"You deserve this, Ser Loras. Not simply for what you've done here during this tourney, but because of how you are in here." Symon touched Loras' breastplate at the spot where his heart would be beneath it. "You earned this, and I wished it to be at mine own hands it was given. Never doubt that or think yourself named only because of who your family is, for I named you because of you and not them, on this I vow."

Had he any doubt that he had indeed earned it, then defeating Ser Symon and making it to the final would have removed it. Loras then and only then looked to the crowd to see how happy they were at what they'd witnessed. His father, mother, and Grandmother, both his brothers and his sister all showed clearly just how proud of him they were. As too were the Starks and those he'd named as his friends during his time at Winterfell. None more so than Beth who fought her tears away and smiled beamingly at him at the same time.

Riding back to ready himself for the final tilt, Loras caught sight of Domeric and it stilled his heart to see the look on his love's face. The whispered words meant just as much to him as those that Ser Symon had spoken to him mere moments earlier. Domeric too made it clear that he believed that Loras had more than earned his spurs and was worthy to be named a knight. That and the look on Domeric's face, the pride and joy he saw there was worth any prize he may earn today.

"Ser Loras," Jon said as he rode by, simply and directly as was his wont, and yet partly that was down to Loras' uncle who rode next to him.

"Never has it been more earned, nephew. Or should I say, Ser Loras." Baelor nodded.

Loras took his place and watched the ensuing tilt with much interest. A part of him hoped that his uncle would win, as he worried that he might not give his all in facing Jon. The thoughts of seeing Margaery be crowned were ones that now he found himself almost wishing to see come true. However, the sight of Beth sitting next to her father in the crowd was enough to chase these thoughts away. Win or lose and no matter who his opponent was to be, Loras knew he'd give his all and the victory, be it his or not, would be well and truly earned.

"It must be, for they both deserve nothing less," Loras whispered. Not noticing that he was dismissing his uncle's chances of winning the tilt against Jon in the process.

Given how well Jon had ridden, had he been able to look at things objectively then he may have done so anyway. Loras had watched his friend easily beat Ser Lyn, despite the two strikes he'd been caught with. He'd seen how easily he'd defeated Ser Lyonel Frey and others, so he had no true doubt that Jon would beat Baelor too. Something that was soon proved and which brought his sister one of the truest smiles that Loras had ever seen her wear.

"I wish you both good fortune." his uncle said as he rode by, defeated but taking it in his stride.

"Then it's to be us then," Jon said as Loras chuckled.

"Always knew it was to be this way, thank the gods I spent so much time practicing against you, Jon."

"Depends on which gods you thank, Loras, your Seven or mine own Old Gods." Jon laughed. "Not that it truly matters, it'll come down to us both and win or lose, I am honored to break lances with you, Ser Loras, truly."

"As am I with you, Jon."

"Good Fortune."

"Good Fortune."

After speaking some more words to Jon, Loras rode out, flower in hand. Margaery accepted it happily, and yet Loras could see how she looked over his shoulder at the Mystery Knight. With a bow of his head, he rode and took his lance and then he was racing down the tiltyard with but one goal in mind. Much though he'd like the idea of seeing how Margaery would react when Jon crowned her. True though it was that he believed his sister deserved to be named as the Queen of Love and Beauty. Loras had promised to name a different sister as such. A sister of his heart and who deserved it just as much as Margaery or anyone else did.

"For Beth," Loras called out as the lances collided against the shields.

Jon Stark.

Running practice tilts had allowed him to keep his mind focused on that and that alone. However, as soon as he was off his horse, Jon found himself thinking much about what was to come. By week's end, he would be betrothed to a girl who liked him not. His future wife and queen had made that clear to him ever since he'd arrived at this godforsaken tourney. Yet just as with the crown, he was to be forced to wear, a marriage too was the price Jon must pay to keep his family safe. He only wished he could resolve his feelings on the latter as much as he'd been able to on the former since he'd made his decision.

While he may not have wished to be king, or still wasn't completely on board with the idea, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders since he'd spoken to Olenna Tyrell. True, Jon worried about the days, weeks, moons, and years to come and what they would bring, but he had tried to concentrate on the positives rather than the negatives. Something he was much more able to do when it came to wearing a crown than he was regarding being a husband.

Jon thought much about his family's safety. Both sides of his family. With him now seeking the crown, he would be able to protect them that much easier. Even if he had to put them in grave danger first to do so. He thought about his grandmother and how she'd gotten her wish when it came to him. As he did about his uncles and aunts, he resolved to send a letter to Viserys once he was on safer ground. His uncle needed to know Jon's decision and that it had been he who'd made it. Never mind that he had in some way been forced to do so. When it came to his grandmother, Jon resolved to write a letter to her too. Simple words and ones that would bring her much joy, he wagered.

"If only my future wife would know the same." Jon sighed.

The damnable thing was that Jon had seen joy in Margaery's features. When he'd asked for her favor, she'd shown much of it. Happily handing him a ribbon from her hair and even spoke to him in a far different tone than she usually did. Albeit because she knew not that it was he under the covered helm when she did so. Jon had seen her cheer for him through each victory too. Margaery made it clear to all and sundry that she was very much in favor of the Mystery Knight taking the day.

"Would she show the same favor should he win and crown her?" he wondered. Jon was under no illusions that he could do so without revealing who he truly was.

Patting the neck of the stallion beneath him, Jon bid the horse to move and Winter as he'd named the horse affectionately, did as he asked. Within moments they were entering the tiltyard and it brought a smile on his face to see his opponent already lined up and waiting. Ser Loras Tyrell, a most worthy knight in Jon's estimation and someone he was happy to name a friend. Taking his position alongside Loras' horse, the wonderfully named Bluebell, Jon nodded to the man he'd need to unseat if he was to make his name here today.

"Ser Loras," he whispered. His northern brogue was on full show since none in the crowd could hear him. The mummery of a southern accent he'd used while talking to Margaery and receiving her favor, long forgotten now.

"Mystery Knight." Loras japed and chuckled.

"I bid you good fortune, Ser Loras, let the best man win and while to the victor go the spoils, there would be no shame to be the beaten man this day.

"No, Jon, there would not. Good fortune to you too, my friend." Loras said offering Jon a bow before then riding to offer a flower to his sister, the last one he'd be presenting in this tourney anyway.

Loras had made quite a show of each tilt he'd fought in. His friend had taken a rose and handed it to a girl in the stands each time. The first one was offered to his brother's new bride, While the next was given to Jon's cousin Beth, whose favor Loras wore. They were followed by flowers to his cousins and now finally his sister. Looking at whom, Jon could see that while Margaery welcomed the rose she'd been handed by her brother, her eyes were not on Loras as she received it. Instead, it was him she looked to as she brought the flower to her lips and kissed it. Jon smiled despite himself as he had seen her do the same with the blue winter rose he'd gifted her and which she had kept all these years.

Taking his lance, Jon looked to see Loras ride to the end of the tiltyard and readied to do the same. His eyes soon searched the crowd and found his uncle sitting next to Beth. Domeric and Brandon were both still absent from the stands even though the mummery all three of them had performed was long a thing of the past. His uncle and he would have much to speak on when this joust was finished. Even more once he broke the news of the betrothal he'd agreed to and Jon sighed loudly once more. The argument they had was still fresh in his mind and it was not one that had as of yet been resolved.

"You think you fool me, Jon? That I've not figured out it's you who is beneath that helm and riding as a Mystery Knight?" Benjen said angrily.

"I'd not have needed to had you allowed me to ride as myself, would I?" Jon retorted.

"'Tis too dangerous for you to do so. For any of you to do, so, you're but a boy, Jon. Much though you speak and at times act a man."

"What have I been practicing for if not to compete, Uncle? What is the point of all the training I do with Syrio and Ser Symon? Aye, I'm too young to fight in a melee, even if I have now killed a man…."

"Jon…"

"No, uncle. I am not a boy who needs to be coddled. I may not yet be a man, but I know I'm ready for the things I'm ready for." Jon said loudly. "Speak to Ser Symon and ask him if he thinks me too young to take part. Should he tell you and me both that I am, then I'll withdraw. Though we both know he will not, for he at least treats me as the man I'm learning to be."

"Yet you are not a man, Jon, you are a boy still. Brandon, and Domeric, both understand why they are not allowed to compete and have accepted the reasons as good and true."

"Bran is your son, uncle. He wishes not to earn his father's ire and Domeric was forbidden to enter the jousts by his father…."

"Jon…"

"No, like it not that I am doing what I am, but no words will stop me from doing so. None, uncle."

He'd seen the hurt in his uncle's blue-grey eyes. Had realized later what it was that had put that hurt there. Benjen was not his father and yet he was as close to one as Jon was ever like to know. He thought of Jon as a son, as much his as Brandon, Beth, or Ben were. In one fell stroke, Jon had told him that he thought of him not the same and he had cursed himself for doing so later.

As the horse began to ride, Jon saw Ser Symon looking on eagerly next to Syrio. Happier thoughts came to his mind as he remembered what the knight had said to him just the day before. An offer to knight both him and Loras which Jon had been forced to turn down. Not because he wished it not, but simply because he felt it would mean more to Loras to be named alone. That given he was now back amongst his family, it would either fall to someone else to give his friend his spurs or it would be some future event that Ser Symon finally knighted him for. Ser Symon's words rang out in Jon's head as Winter began his run.

"I intended to knight you both by year's end, Jon. Had Loras not returned to his home, I'd have done so mayhap even before then."

"Yet I'd ask you to hold off with me, Ser Symon."

"Jon?"

"It would mean much to Loras to be knighted in front of his family, Ser. To know he'd earned it and that you deemed him worthy to receive such an honor. To have that honor bestowed upon him here in front of those he loves and names his friends." Jon's words were listened to, as they always were when it came to the knight. "I'd not wish to be a part of his moment nor to steal any of the attention he rightly deserves, Ser."

"And what of you, Jon?"

"Once I thought I could never be both a knight and a Lord, then I couldn't dare hope to be one when I was training. Knowing you think me worthy of the title is enough for me."

"You are worthy, Jon. Not just because of who you truly are but because of all you've accomplished and shown me as you trained. I wish to name you a knight, name Loras a knight, only because I find you both to be as worthy of the honor as any who've ever earned it."

"I thank you, Richard, truly I do," Jon said, using the knight's true name for one of the first times ever.

Beneath him, Winter was in full stride. In his left hand, the shield was held up almost exactly in the same position as Loras' was. The lance was brought up and Jon lined it up with where he hoped to strike. Then the sound of wood breaking rang around the tiltyard as both lances shattered against the shields. Their first tile ended in a drawn point and neither he nor Loras had been moved from their saddles.

Turning Winter around and riding back to claim his second lance, Jon soon found the crowd and stands around him changing. The weather seemed to turn a little colder and the sun shone not as brightly in the sky. A shadow of a dark and imposing keep now covering Jon and the crowd in the shade as he was transported to another time and place. To a tourney held long ago and a day when the smiles ended.

It was no longer Loras he saw as he looked down the tiltyard. Instead, the rider wore dark black armor with rubies on the breastplate. The horse the rider rode upon bore a caparison of the Three-Headed Dragon and Jon had rarely seen a more impressive sight. Around him, the great and the good of the realm waited with bated breath for the tilt to begin and yet Jon rode not the horse that he sat upon. He found he could not move nor had any wish to as his eyes searched the crowd and soon found the sight he was looking for.

Brandon Stark looked much like the statue that his uncle Benjen had ordered made for him. While beside him, his uncle Ned seemed to be somewhat in his shadow. Both figuratively and literally, given the dark shade that now covered him. Sitting behind them both was a man whom Jon found himself glaring at. Robert Baratheon sat with a mug of something or other in his hand and a happy smile on his face. Jon liked not that he sat so close to his uncles and even less so to the woman who now took all of Jon's attention.

Dark of hair and grey of eye, slight and yet fierce, the woman could only be his mother. The She-Wolf of Winterfell. His father's Winter Princess and Jon felt his heart in his chest begin to pound as he bore witness to the look she aimed his father's way. A glance at Rhaegar Targaryen was enough to see that it was returned in kind. The sound of hoofbeats took him somewhat from the sight. Harrenhal faded away as Winter began his charge and his father's specter now seemed to be replaced by Jon's own.

Jon had thought that he'd been on the other end of the tiltyard. That he'd looked to where Loras was riding from and had seen his father there. Yet now, as Winter's pace increased, Jon could see that it was he who was riding from that end of the tiltyard and that Loras rode towards him from where Jon had believed himself to be. Wishing to focus only on the horse and the rider that approached him, Jon found he could not. His eyes refused to look anywhere but to the crowd, as he sought his mother out once more.

"Please, I beg of you," Jon said to the wind, the world, and the Old Gods who created it all. A hope in his heart to see dark hair and grey eyes and a prayer to look upon his mother's face once more.

It was not to be, however. When Jon found the eyes of a woman in the crowd, those eyes were the golden brown of Margaery Tyrell. Her expression was one that almost haunted him as her face was almost the image of his mother's as she'd cheered his father on. Margaery was now doing the same for Jon. As he and Loras grew ever closer to crashing their lances together, Jon found himself even keener to win than he already was. The thoughts of crowning Margaery as his father had crowned his mother all those years earlier, ones that filled him with a resolve that wouldn't see him falter here today.

"I am my father and mother's son," Jon shouted out as he drove the lance forward with all his might.

Highgarden 295 AC.

Margaery Tyrell.

Jealousy was a new emotion for Margaery, something she'd never truly known given the life she lived. From an early age, she'd been given almost anything she wished for and Margaery was well aware of the privileges her station afforded her. Rarely if ever had she been denied something she wanted and while some may think it made her spoiled or ungrateful, she was very much not. The latter anyway, for even Margaery herself couldn't deny that her parents and grandmother had spoiled her terribly.

It had been why she'd been so upset when Loras was allowed to foster in the North. Her arguments against his leaving were ones that for once weren't listened to and her feelings about the matter were completely ignored. Margaery was forced to say goodbye to her older brother and truest friend and only then was able to see him when her grandmother decided they would travel to the North. So when Loras had returned, Margaery had rejoiced, only to find that her brother was not the same boy he'd once been. His occasional chiding words to her had hurt her deeply as they were not, or at least had never been, words that Loras had ever deigned to aim in her direction before.

Margaery had been jealous too of the attention that her cousin had paid to Jon Stark, much as she wished not to be. The thoughts of Desmera being wed to the future Warden of the North should have been ones that filled her with joy and yet they very much did not. Only the fact that Jon Stark seemed to be just being polite when Desmera all but threw herself at him, allowed Margaery's jealousy to be put to rest. His actions at the opening feast, however, very much brought that jealousy to the fore once more.

Was there something between Jon Stark and the girl from the Crannogs?

Was that a match that his family would welcome?

Would it be one that Jon himself sought?

Why did it bother her that it may well be?

The answer to that last question was the one that vexed Margaery greatly. Her plans required Jon Stark not to be a potential match that her parents or grandmother would seek for her. The need to be wed to a prince and see her family's future secure was far more pressing than the fact that Margaery found Jon Stark pleasant to look at.

'Did it not? It must.' she told herself even after Loras explained the closeness between Lady Reed and Jon and how they were more siblings than anything else.

Margaery wished she'd been alone when he told her that had been the reason Jon Stark had been so worried when Lady Reed had fainted and not because she held a different place in his heart. Desmera and the rest of Margaery's cousins all swooning somewhat at the idea of a knight in shining armor coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Each of them then looked forward to seeing the image brought to life when the jousts began. Only for Jon Stark to disappoint them all, Margaery included, when he took no part in the jousts at all.

"Is he still at the lady's bedside, do you wonder?" Elinor said almost dreamily.

"Proving both his company and his support, a true knight," Megga added.

She tuned them out, even if a part of her agreed with them. It would be what Loras did, or Garlan, Willas too and so it named Jon Stark as good and True, which Margaery wished not to name him. His looks and the things he'd done and said had already taken her interest, the last thing she needed was for his deeds to do so too.

'They already have, have they not' the accursed voice in her head called out. Margaery ignored it and was happy to see a Mystery Knight amongst the men competing in the tourney. The distraction, something that she very much welcomed as thoughts of what Mira had said about her brother and what Jon Stark had done for him, were willing themselves to the fore.

"A Mystery Knight, oh what fun," Leona said happily.

"Who do you think it may be?"

The beginning of the jousts brought even more of Margaery's jealousy to the fore. Loras seeking out not her favor but the favor of Bethany Stark had been enough to do so. Margaery both welcomed the reasons why her brother did so and yet very much not at the same time. Still, she cheered his victory loudly as she did his handing of a flower to her new Goodsister. Leonette was more than happy to receive it and Garlan offered their brother a nod of his head as a way of thanks.

"The Mystery Knight." Desmera cheered out, or Margaery believed it was her cousin who did so, her eyes and attention were focused on the Mystery Knight as he rode and so she'd not been paying her cousins any mind.

Her father said something about the Mystery Knight's horse and yet Margaery heard him not. Instead, she watched as the knight rode as well as any man she'd ever seen and her cousins were not the only ones who cheered loudly when he won his tilt. Little did any of them expect the Mystery Knight to then ride their way and when he stopped in front of her, Margaery felt her heart begin to race.

The words he spoke and how he spoke them affected her deeply. Her fingers trembled as she untied the ribbon and tied it to his arm, the crowd cheering wildly as she did so. Had she been able to look at Desmera then she'd have seen a resigned and sad look on her cousin's face. Margaery though only had eyes for the knight in front of her and she wished more than anything for him to remove his helm so she could see the face beneath it.

'Only a win would see him do so'

It gave her two competitors to cheer during the tourney and both of them proved themselves true contenders for the victory. Loras was the better lance or so Margaery would name him. The Mystery Knight, however, had the entire field beaten when it came to horsemanship. While the horse he rode upon was one that Willas had trained and which had been amongst those that Loras had been gifted the use of. Something which named him at least an acquaintance of her brother's if not a friend. Margaery wondered if it was one of his foster brothers from the North that she'd given her favor to. Both Brandon Stark and Domeric Bolton had been absent from the tilts thus far and unlike Jon Stark, their whereabouts were unknown to any.

Watching her brother be knighted, Margaery cried tears of pure joy. No man deserved it more in her opinion and the crowd seemed very much to agree. To see him then unhorse the man who'd knighted him, knowing that he'd made it to the final, Margaery so very much wished to be even happier for Loras. Her jealousy however raised its ugly head once more and the thoughts of someone else being crowned instead of her were ones she liked not. So to see the Mystery Knight defeat her uncle so adeptly, Margaery began to believe and hope that it would indeed be her who wore the crown.

"They're lining up."

"Who would have wagered it would come down to Loras and the Mystery Knight."

"Ser Loras."

"LORAS HIGHGARDEN!"

"THE MYSTERY KNIGHT!"

The first tilt between Loras and the Mystery Knight was a draw. Margaery was relieved to see her brother unharmed and yet she'd not lie and say she'd not wished to see him unhorsed. On the second tilt, she noticed something about how the Mystery Knight rode, how he moved in the saddle and heart in mouth, Margaery looked on as he aimed a strike at her brother that was incredible. Power, precision, the strike had both and Loras had no answer for it. Her brother fell to the ground and then, thankfully, rose to his feet most quickly.

"He's well, he's well," Margaery exclaimed while others around her spoke of the victory.

It took her a moment to realize that as much as it was Loras rising to his feet and being unhurt that had soothed her so, it was the Mystery Knight coming through the tilt unscathed that had played an equal part. Now, however, it was only the Mystery Knight and the fact he rode to where the garland was that Margaery or anyone else paid attention to. Margaery felt the beating of her heart and wondered why anyone else couldn't hear the drum beat it made as the Mystery Knight took the garland and headed her way.

"Lady Margaery, I would name you the Queen of Love and Beauty." his voice seemed more familiar as he spoke and she took the garland from the lance to place it upon her head.

"I would see your face, Ser, to look upon the man who crowned me." Margaery was shocked that her words were spoken as firmly as they were, given the trembling of her hands and the heart that threatened to burst out of her chest.

"I would deny you nothing, my lady."

Around the stands, all eyes now looked to the Mystery Knight. None more keenly than Margaery's golden brown ones. At first, when the helm was removed, she believed she'd dreamt the man in front of her into being the Mystery Knight. So certain was she that Jon Stark was at present by the bedside of Meera Reed that it could only be a dream that had brought him here now. Yet, it was clearly Jon Stark in front of her and it was he who'd named her Queen of Love and Beauty. Margaery smiled as truly at the man in front of her as she ever had anyone before.

"A mummery, Lord Jon." she japed.

"A much-needed one, my lady"

They were the only words that they spoke to each other before Jon Stark rode away. Margaery almost wished he'd grabbed her in his arms and placed her atop his horse before he'd done so. Had she looked to her grandmother or mother and father, then she'd have seen them all show their happiness at what had just occurred. If she'd turned to Desmera, she'd have seen the beginnings of tears in her cousin's eyes. Her other cousins all chattered and giggled in between their swooning and sighing. Margaery found herself just as guilty of the latter as they were.

Later as she readied herself for the night's feast, Margaery fought down the voice that told her she wished for this not. That this was not part of her plans and had been the very thing she'd been working against. The sight of the garland, the look in those dark grey eyes as Jon Stark removed his helm. That along with the thoughts that he'd performed a mummery just so he could crown her, was all too much to ignore.

"I can live the dream for one night, can I not? Even if I must shatter that dream on the morrow."

Entering the Great Hall with Loras as her escort. Margaery looked to see where Jon Stark was sitting and was surprised to see it was at the High Table. Not that he didn't deserve to sit there or wasn't of a high enough station to do so, but simply because he'd not truly done so since he'd arrived. Instead, Jon had left it to his Regent to sit there in his place and had barely attended any of the feasts whatsoever.

"My lady." Jon Stark said, his voice back in its Northern Brogue and Margaery finding that she very much preferred it this way.

"My Lord," Margaery replied, allowing Jon to move her chair and help her to her seat, Loras nodded to his friend and offered her a wink which she ignored.

"Jon."

"Margaery," she replied instantly, happy to see the smile it earned her for doing so.

They'd not spoken much together since the Starks had arrived. Margaery had gone out of her way to not be in a position to do so. Tonight, they spoke as if they were making up for all the conversations they'd missed because of it. Jon was witty and smart and he listened when she offered her own opinions. He challenged her when she was wrong and yet he accepted it when she was right, which she found she very much enjoyed. When the time came for the first dance, Margaery was more than ready to be asked to do so.

"Margaery, may I have the honor of this dance?"

"You may indeed, Jon."

It was different from the dances they'd shared in Winterfell. Margaery wondered if it was because they were here in her home and she felt more comfortable because of it. Or was it simply that she very much wished to dance with the man she was dancing with? Whatever the reason, when the first dance ended, they remained on the floor and danced a second and a third. Only the need for something to wet her tongue and a chance to rest for a moment stopped them from dancing a fourth dance. Jon led her back to her seat and took his own beside her so they could continue their conversation.

"Why a Mystery Knight, Jon? I know you said it was much needed, but I see no reason for why it should be?"

For a moment, just the briefest moment, Margaery expected Jon to say that had he come and asked for her favor as himself, she may have refused him. Shamefully, she wondered now if she would have and so when he spoke of how it was because of his uncle's wishes, Margaery was relieved that was the reason.

"My uncle both worries about my safety and likes not tourneys, Margaery. He wishes for neither myself nor Brandon to compete and so…."

"Yet you competed anyway," she whispered, her heart pounding at the thought he'd done so just to wear her favor and crown her as the Queen of Love and Beauty.

"I wished to crown a queen," Jon said, and had they been alone, she'd have kissed those luscious lips of his for speaking such wonderful words.

For some reason, there was now an uncomfortable silence between them. Jon seemed to get a look of resolve on his face and Margaery felt he was about to make some declaration or other to her. Had he told her that she had won his heart right then and there, Margaery may have told him he'd done so with her own. Instead, it was the sound of cutlery against glasses and the rise of her father to his feet that broke the silence and made her look away from Jon but briefly.

"My Lords, Ladies, and Good Sers, we came here to celebrate the wedding of my second son Garlan and his new bride Leonette and to bear witness to the tourney that was held to honor them. And honor them we did."

Margaery cheered and clapped, as did Jon beside her as the winner of the archery, and then the melee walked up to collect their prizes from her father. She cheered even more loudly when Jon then walked up to collect his for winning the joust. Her father spoke some words to Jon that none but them both would hear and Jon nodded before returning to take his seat beside her.

It surprised her when he reached over and took her hand in his and yet it was a surprise she much enjoyed. Little did she know that there was soon to be an even bigger and truer surprise awaiting her. Her father's words were not finished and though the victors had been given their spoils, there was one last thing that was to be given as a prize that night. Margaery listened In stunned silence as she found that her hand, a hand now held in Jon Stark's own, had been gifted to the man beside her.

"My Lords, Ladies, Good Sers. We all cheered on the Mystery Knight as he earned his victory and while that victory was against mine own son, it was one that I too celebrated just as keenly as you all do. I celebrate it even more given what I'm now at liberty to reveal. Lord Jon, Margaery, I bid you both to rise."

"Jon?"

No words were spoken and when Jon rose, so too did she. Margaery was unsure why they were doing so and why everyone around the Great Hall seemed to know what was to come. Or mayhap it was simply that what was to come was the very thing she'd been so set against for the longest time.

"It gives me great pleasure to announce the betrothal of Lord Jon Stark and Lady Margaery Tyrell. A wedding to be held when they reach their majority and one that as the father of the bride, I am most happy to see realized. On behalf of my mother, my wife, and myself, I give you the newly betrothed."

"The Newly Betrothed."

"The Newly Betrothed."

In her head, she railed against what her father had done. What her grandmother had done. Margaery damned them all for going against her wishes while at the same time, she thanked them profusely for going with her heart. Unhappy was what she wished to be at this news. Storming out of the Great Hall and refusing to go through with this farce was what she believed she needed to do and yet she stood there, smiling a true smile and feeling a joy and happiness that she'd never felt before. Memories of her dreams filtered through eyes that watered and longed to shed happy tears. A wedding at night in front of a tree to the man who held her hand and stood beside her. She'd dreamt of it and now it was on the verge of coming through.

Yet it could not.

She could not give in to dreams and hopes.

Margaery needed to be stronger than that.

What she wished for mattered not. What her heart desired meant little. Her family came above all, even her happiness.

"I can live the dream for one night, can I not? Even if I must shatter that dream on the morrow," she whispered as she and Jon took their seats once more.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: The Fallout from Jon and Margaery's betrothal plays out as other relationships are decided upon and suggested. Margaery and Jon speak and words are spoken that force Jon to bring forward his visit to his mother. Jon travels to Oldtown and takes a ship to Starfall while the Starks arrive back in Winterfell and Benjen seeks the comfort of his wife's embrace and advice.

For those following my other fics, My Honor Goes only so High, Dragonverse and the next chapter of this are up next.

Missed Reviews

Saiyan Prince: Chapter 1. So I have mixed feelings regarding Ned, I don't blame him for not trying to place Jon on the Throne at first, though I do later when he sends the raven to Stannis and names him the rightful king as given Ned's honor, he'd have needed to fight a war to see him crowned.

I take issue with how he raised Jon, that he made no plans for him, he was literally his only family at that point, he knew how his wife felt and yet, even though he was Warden of the North, he pretty much made no plans whatsoever for Jon, knowing full well what Cat would do should anything happen to him. So there I take issue too. Ned made what to him seemed like the only choice he had open to him at the start, after that point, he stuck his head in the sand and took no further action, however, and again this is where I take issue with him.

Here, I wanted to play around with what would happen had he fallen, and with Robb, well basically I'm a bigger fan (though I lose it with him over not swapping Jaime for his sister, never mind the logic of the situation, it was still the right thing to do and not just in hindsight). As for Arthur, well you'll see fallout because of what he did, however, one aspect of things we wanted to explore was the fact that to all of Westeros Ned killed Arthur and no one took issue with it, so should it not be the same for Arthur too? I mean it won't be, but you get what I mean. Arthur killing Ned should really be no different than Ned/Howland killing Arthur and yet it will be. In regard to him feeling bad, he did his job, he's a Kingsguard, he doesn't have time for feeling bad to be honest and until he's faced with Starks/Jon, no reason to.

Chapter 2: I do like Stannis and we wanted to have a ripple affect with him and Cat, a change that in some ways will be most welcome and in others will cause issues.

Chapter 3: We wanted Jon to have an egg and get it early and Aemon not knowing of him in canon, allows for that to be changed here. As for Stannis, he won't take crap from anyone, even his brother. Robert at times is a man child and Rhaella is well aware of all his faults and what buttons to press with both him and Tywin.

Chapter 4: He is also being affected by Egg LOL.

Chapter 5: Rhaella still feels bitterness to the KG in general, Arthur too would have faced the same level of questioning if it was not for Jon, but it's more that Barristan knelt to Robert after what he said about Elia and the Children, than for any other reason. There is also a question of trust and whether or not he can earn it, which is why he was given another chance.

Chapter 6: Rhaella was purposely vague in her agreement. We thought long and hard about the KG, with Lysa wed to Jon A, Cat to Stannis, the Bfish would be close to family and Robert truly needed to send a message to the realm after Barristan, so we think he'd take it, and yes he will be on the wrong side of things, but we want to play with Family, Duty, Honor a lot here.

Chapter 7: So glad you liked that about the fleet, and with Jon/Benjen we wanted a reason why it would be early and the upcoming war just felt the right time. In regards to Ned, part of him being somewhat forgotten is that no one wished to lie to him too much about him being his father. As for guilt, see here's the thing with the TOJ for me, a lot of people seem to think that it's all on the KG, yet there is a reason IMO why we're shown the words of the conversation. Read them again, "I looked for you on the Trident etc) at no single point does Ned actually come out and say that he's there for his sister and that alone. He literally acts as an agent of the King not a brother and given what the King has done, allowed to go unpunished, why is it on the KG to parley. Both sides are as wrong as each other at best, and had Ned simply demanded his sister's releases thereby making it clear he was there because of Lyanna and thought her kidnapped, then maybe things could be different. Yet, at no point does he do so and so what are the KG to think? That he's there for his sister or to take her babe to the King?

Chapter 8: We wanted to have Benjen/Tywin not get along from the start and this is how Tywin wages war as we've seen in the books/show. Yes, Robert is somewhat justified when it comes to Arthur Dayne, but very much not when it comes to his mother. He's also a man who can barely hold his temper and cannot control his appetites, which is what we wanted to show here.

Chapter 9: Robert never noticed in canon (Mya Stone and Edric Storm he at least seen) and if anything he may think that it's Stannis' genes that are wrong LOL. Cassana will be somewhat Sansa like, but also with a little more practicality, she'll be her mother's daughter but have some of her father's influence. As for Asha, she had a much better chance here than in canon, so we'll see. Theon however, he may face some more scorn in Stannis' house than he did in WF. As for Mace, well he does as he does.

Chapter 10: Robert just can't control his lusts. Yes, Lynesse allows for Loras to move more easily. As you said though, Tywin is not best pleased.

Chapter 11: Yes, and I never got why we didn't hear of it more with Ned, other than keeping Jon hidden somewhat. But yes it's about building future alliances.

Chapter 12: Robert and Cersei have such an unhealthy relationship, it's fun to have them needle each other.

Chapter 13: With Margaery we deliberately kept her povs waiting to allow an image be built up of her, as for Tywin, he's nothing if not pragmatic.

Chapter 14: Well Dany/Maekar are not going to dream everything, as you said that would be cheating. But Doran is a true snake. Glad you liked the Mira/Marge conversation, hope it allows for a better understanding of her. If Myrcella was older, the betrothal offer would already be made.

Chapter 15: She's acting stupid yes, thinking too much and in the wrong way. With Asher, we wanted him to play a part and sort of earn his right in the North, same somewhat for Viserys who has his own plans on things.

Maelstorm: Chapter 10: If it bothers you that much, then it's probably not the story for you. It's slow because we're changing almost the entirety of the build up of canon, from Ned's death to the eventual war for the Iron Throne. That's a hell of a lot of ground work and requires time, now we could have just skipped to the good parts, but we didn't wish to and since we write for our own enjoyment first and foremost, we tell the story we wish to in the way we want to. We have other stories, I have other stories, that are more fast paced, but we're both quite comfortable with the pacing of this and have no plans to change it. So do with that what you may.

Chapter 16 Reviews.

Ariadne: We do have an arc for Margaery, it may not make you like her better, but we do have a plan in mind with her. You're somewhat right with Beth, especially regarding the age, in some ways it's a child's answer to a problem and yes, she could of course change her mind or think differently as she ages, but she's not going to be wed anytime soon. She's 10, Jon/Marge won't be wed until near the canon timeline at the earliest, so Beth has five/six years to go, which allows for things to change, perhaps, for now it's more this is an answer to a problem, later, it may become that this answer can't work, we'll see.

Rhatch: I get you with Loras, but he doesn't even really know Renly here, so there's no danger of that match happening. As for Jon/Marge, in someway both are blinding themselves to what they truly feel, both feel this weight that forces them in one direction, if they would just swim with the current, they may find their destination is the one they both seek. For now, yes, antagonism can lead to attraction and Jon/Marge are attracted to each other. I do find it somewhat funny how against the match some people are, Cat wasn't exactly the happiest bride or wife at first, hell most matches in Westeros lean more political than love, Jon/Marge probably have more feelings for each other than most of the matches that great houses make, even if they are trying to ignore those feelings.

Yes, that's true, Jon would smoke Joff, but this is Westeros, people at times see only what they want, for even Jon/Robb who saw the truth of Joff when he came to WF in canon, there was a Sansa who very much did not.

MrKlortho: Jon more inferred that she would, rather than her say it, but there will be a large rebuke for Olenna coming, don't worry about that.

Dorodrigo: You're more than welcome and there should be another chapter within the next week or so too.

Kezz: Really glad you liked it.

Celexys: So glad you feel that way my friend.

DarkMeraxes: LOL, I wonder how many brides in Westeros actually looked forward to their wedding or being matched to someone chosen for them by their family, even if that person was a good man, you do have to remember that Margaery is forcing herself to go against her true feelings in a little bit, simply because she believes it's for the best.

Solange: I think any story that has somewhat got to do with canon, with the canon setup, the Lannisters will always come up with a somewhat bad fate. I mean, they are in control of the crown and so they are the antagonists if you're writing about someone trying to take the crown from them. If a story is Targ or Stark centric, then unless it's written by a sadist, more times than not the will be on the winning side. Which means the Lannisters very much won't be.

I can't give up too much here for risk of spoilers, but would Rhaella allow Tywin to live? Jon allow Joff? As for the children/Jaime/Tyrion, well no matter how you cut it there are issues that need to be resolved regarding their fates just so you can protect the future lines of those against them.

Irish Hermit: it is the big danger when it comes to Jon, as you rightly point out. At some point, more and more people need to know and the more who know, the less safe that makes him. As for Olenna/Mace, we've got some fun moments coming up with them, trust me. I do so love the Umbers, the real Umbers, not the ones we got in the show. They are just so much fun to read and write, so yes, they will be playing a role going forward, Smalljon especially.

Exactly, as Ashara told RHAELLA a few chapters ago, once Jon sees the south, things will change in his mind.

Xan Merrick: So glad you liked it, my friend.

Monkey: So glad to have you on this little journey. I feel it too in regards to Jon/Margaery, there are so few of their stories out there and a lot of them aren't even about them to be honest. More just a pairing in a harem fic or something and that just doesn't interest me. I will say that the next few chapters will be just as heavy, emotionally, however, we're reaching a turning point in the arc, and so there are some big light moments to come.

Saiyan: Yes, we wanted to have Syrio show off his skills, with Jon later on doing the same a little further down the line. As for Jon/Marge, well if both could just accept how they truly feel, and not over think things, they'd realize how good together they can be, but well, they're allowing impressions, misunderstandings and concentrating too much on their own heads, to see what's in front of them.