Chapter 2
Breakstone Hill, the North
282 AC.
A year had passed since Lyarra had come to Breakstone Hill with Benjen and Aelyx. The boy was growing like a weed; he was now a year and four or five moons old. Aelyx had walked at seven and a half moons old.
He and his dragon, Ohdahviing, were inseparable. Ohdahviing had grown too large to be kept in the keep. Now he was three and a half meters long with a wingspan of seven meters.
Aemon had come baring gifts for his second great nephew. Blackfyre, the Valyrian Bastard Sword of House Targaryen, and another Valyrian Steel Sword, this time a Great Sword. How the Maester had come by the second Valyrian Blade was anyone's guess.
Jon, according to Aemon, was smart as a whip. He had inherited his father's intelligence. It was said by some that Queen Rhaella had swallowed a thousand books when she had been pregnant with Prince Rhaegar.
The Last Dragon had a love of books and learning. That had done him no good on the banks of the Trident the day he fell to Robert Baratheon's hammer. Jon would spend hours with Maester Aemon, listening to him read books on the history of Westeros, House Targaryen, and Valyria.
There had been times she had caught her grandson sneaking out of bed to listen to the men talk over their tankards of ale in the Great Hall. He would sneak into the training yard to watch the men spar and train.
Aelyx would learn to fight with all manner of weapons in due time. If he was to win the wars to come, he would need to be proficient with all manner of weapons, learning to fight without weapons as well.
Lyarra watched Jon with her father. The two sat in the Great Hall. Jon sat on her father's lap. For a man the size of Rodrik Flint, he had a gentle heart and demeanor around those close to him.
"Mother, there's something I need to talk with you about," Benjen spoke from where he sat across from here.
"About Benjen"
"Ser Gerold is going to the Essos to gather an army for Aelyx; I am going with him," Benjen answered.
"As much as I want to say no, I cannot stop you. You are old enough to make your decisions. Benjen, if this is something you truly want to do, then I won't stop you."
"Thank you, Mother." Benjen smiled at her.
"Just be careful and come home safe to us. I have already lost your father, brother, and sister. I don't want to lose another child, Benjen."
"I will be Mother," Benjen said, taking a long sip of his ale.
A little over a week later, Benjen and Gerold Hightower departed, headed for the Stoney Shores. A ship would be waiting for them, taking them to the Essos. Lyarra prayed to the gods to watch over them and see them safely to the Essos.
Winterfell, the North
282 AC.
The Warden of the North sat in Solar, going over tax reports and harvest counts. Being Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was more like doing paperwork than anything. The hour was growing late.
Ned had made some headway in making the North stronger and gathering support for when the time came to put Aelyx on the throne. Ned had worked out trade alliances with other parts of the Southern Kingdom.
After some back and forth with House Tyrell, they had accepted a marriage alliance between Robb and Lord Tyrell's only daughter, Margery. The Dornish were doing more business with the North. Wood in exchange for ships; pelts for spices. That and a marriage alliance with House Stark upon the marriage of Princess Arianne and Aelyx meant that marriage would be done in secret until his nephew pressed his claim for the Iron Throne.
The demands he had sent to Robert had been answered. Fueds had been set aside for a fleet of naval and merchant ships. The Nightwatch was given to the North to manage, while the funding for rebuilding the Wall and all the castles, clothing, arming, and feeding the watch came from the Crown.
Taxes were reduced in the North by two-thirds for the next ten years. The New Gift and Gift had been returned to the North also. Jon had been legitimized as a Flint.
The rebuilding of Moat Cailin was well underway, as was the refurbishment of Queenscrow. A port and fort were being built at Seadragon Point. Another measure. Ned had implemented an offer to take skilled tradesmen from the poorer areas of King's Landing and resettle them in the North.
Catelyn hadn't reacted well to the news that Jon had been legitimized as a Flint. What was her problem with Jon? Ned had no clue. His nephew was no threat to Robb. Ned could only imagine her behavior had Ned named Jon as his bastard son rather than him being Brandon's bastard son.
It would be no surprise to Ned if he had dozens or more bastard nieces and nephews. Brandon had loved anything with a pair of tits and a cunt and chasing them. There had been talk that he'd gotten Barbary Dustin with child. Perhaps it was all just talk.
Nonetheless, the North and the Riverlands would no doubt be littered with Brandon's bastard children.
Ned kept a close eye and ear to the goings on of the realm more closely now. Robert had no heir; his firstborn had died in the crib at two and a half months old. Prince Orys, or was it Steffon? Ned didn't know or care.
He and Catelyn were expecting another child. Robb was excited about being a big brother. Ned didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl. As long as he or she was healthy, that was the main thing. And Catelyn was alright. He cared for his wife.
But he would never love her the way he would always love Ashara.
Though his heart would always belong to Ashara, that didn't mean he couldn't care for his wife.
Pentos, the Free Cities, and Essos
282/283AC.
After several moons at sea, the ship Gerold Hightower and Benjen Stark had been sailing on from the Stony Shore to the Essos finally docked in Pentos. Benjen had never felt such heat. God, it was so hot.
The Old White Bull seemed unaffected by it. Having spent many years in King's Landing dressed heavily in armor most of the time, you soon got to heat. The heat in Pentos was much more bearable than the King's Landing heat had ever been.
Before leaving Breakstone Hill, Gerold had made contact with an old friend and the Kingsguard. Ser Richard Lonmouth, former squire of Prince Rhaegar. Ser Richard Lonmouth had sided with the Prince and fled across the Essos with Ser Willem Darry and Queen Rhaella, two surviving children. Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys 'Stormborn' Targaryen.
Ser. Richard Lonmouth was there to meet them at the docks in Pentos.
"Lord Commander Hightower, welcome to Pentos," Ser Richard Lonmouth says before noticing Benjen. "Who's your friend?"
"Benjen Stark. I'll explain more in detail. Where are Ser Willem Darry and the children?"
"Braavos last I heard," Lonmouth answered.
"How long have they been in Braavos?" Gerold questioned them as they made their way through the crowded streets surrounding the docks of Pentos.
"Roughly a year. How much longer it's safe for them to remain there is another matter."
After walking for roughly three-quarters of an hour, they reached a safe house of sorts. Guarded by some rough-looking men.
"So why is Benjen Stark, brother of the Usurper's best friend, with you, Lord Commander?"
"The Prince had me, Ser Oswell, and Arthur Dayne guarding Lyanna Stark in a tower in Dorne. The Tower of Joy. The plan was for Princess Elia and the children to join her there. But the Mad King got in the way."
"Why would Rhaegar have his wife and children with his mistress?" Richard Lonmouth interrupted.
"Lyanna Stark was not Rhaegar's mistress. She was his wife. He, Princess Elia, and Lyanna Stark met and fell in love at Harrnehal, and then they ran away together and married on the Isle of Faces. Before both the Old and the New Gods.
Myself, Oswell, and Arthur were witnesses to the wedding. The prince took Lyanna to Dorne to keep her safe. The plan was for Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Aegon to join them, but that never happened.
When Prince Rhaegar rode off to fight at the Trident, Princess Lyanna was with child. The Prince fell at the Trident, and the Princess was grieving and just starting to come around when word came of what happened to Princess Elia and her children during the sack of King's Landing.
Lyanna went into labor. The babe came too early, or he was too big, as Princess Lyanna was narrow-hipped. Whatever the cause, she lost too much blood and got an infection. She lived long enough for Ned Stark to arrive.
She died shortly afterward. The baby was a boy. Prince Rhaegar's sole surviving son. Prince Aelyx was the name that the princess gave her son before she died. Ned Stark took the prince in as his bastard nephew. Jon Snow/Sand. The bastard son of his brother Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne."Gerold paused in his story.
"Where's the prince now?" Richard asked.
"In the North with his mother's family. Under the alias of Jon Flint. Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur are with him still. Myself and Benjen came to the Essos to raise an army for the King." Gerold answered.
"What does Ned Stark plan to do? Will he support the King should he wish to press his claim?"
"Ned Stark plans to put his nephew on the throne. He has no love for Robert Baratheon. Not after what happened to Princess Elia and her children."The White Bull explained further.
"What does the King look like?"
"He takes heavily after the Stark side; thank the gods." It would be hard to explain him being Brandon Stark's son if he had Targaryen looks of silver hair and purple eyes," Gerold answered.
Gerold paused for a second. "There is something else you should know, Richard. It seems dragons have returned to the world. Prince Rhaegar left a dragon egg for the king. It hatched a male dragon by the name of Ohdahviing, which translates to Winged Snow Hunter or something."
"In what language is that? Valyrian?"
"I'm not sure what dialect it is. It was Maester Aemon, Prince Rhaegar's great uncle, who named the dragon. He's with the King in Breakstone Hill," Gerold shrugged his shoulders.
Winterfell, the North
282/283 AC.
Eddard Stark paced back and forth outside the birthing chambers. Catelyn's waters had broken several hours earlier. Ned had attempted to be in the room with her during the birth, only to be kicked out.
"The birthing chamber is no place for you, my lord." Was all that was said as the door was shut firmly in Ned's face.
Ned had been there the day Robb had been born, and his other unnamed son and Ashara had died on the birthing bed.
"Papa, will Mama be alright?" Young Robb asked where he sat with Old Nan.
"Your mother is in the best possible hands, son. She will be fine," I hope Ned added in his mind. Childbirth was dangerous for any woman; it didn't matter if it was her first birth or twenty; things could still go wrong.
They had very nearly lost his mother the day their stillborn sister had been born. Ned still remembered the sickly, thick smell of blood and death. It was God's will that had spared Lyarra and brought them back to her.
Catelyn's labor had been going on for several hours now. Still, Ned continued to pace. Praying the gods to make everything go smoothly.
"Why is Mama screaming?" Robb asked, looking at him with concerned blue eyes. His mother's eyes. Robb was all Tully; there was so little Stark in him. A lesser man would have questioned if Robb was their son.
But sometimes babies could look more like their mothers than their fathers. In his nephew's case, this was true. Thank the gods. It would have been hard to pass Aelyx off as Brandon's bastard son if he had been born with silver hair and purple eyes.
The screams from the birthing chamber grew louder and louder with each passing minute. Ned was becoming a little concerned.
"Is Mama alright?" Robb asked again.
"Robb, your mother's fine; she's in good hands." Ned tried to reassure his son.
After a while, the screaming stopped, and a few moments later, a loud cry was heard. "It seems your brother or sister has come into the world. I will see how they and your mother are doing."
Ned got up and made his way to the birth chamber. He knocked.
"My Lord, Lady Catelyn is fine; you have a beautiful daughter. It seems there is another one on the way," was all Ned was told before the door was shut in his face once more. A daughter, another babe was coming.
Gods twins.
Ned went back to where Robb stood with Nan, waiting for any news. "Robb, you have a little sister; it seems there's another one on the way. Another brother or sister" Ned explained to Robb. He was a big brother now.
That reminds him. He will have to write to his mother to tell her the news that she is a grandmother again to twins.
It felt like it was the entirety before they heard anything. But it had been a mere fifteen minutes.
"My lord, you have two beautiful daughters." One of the women helping during the birth told him coming out of the birth chamber.
"May I see my wife and daughters now?" Ned asked.
"Maester Luwin is just finishing up. Lady Stark is very weak, my Lord; it has been a long and difficult birth."
"Robb, stay with Nan for a few moments." Ned squeezed his son's shoulder before going to the birthing chamber.
"My Lord, come meet your daughters." Catelyn was exhausted, but she still smiled at him.
"You've done well, my lady. They are as pretty as their mother." Ned was handed one of his daughters.
The daughter he held was every inch a Stark, with her dark hair and dark eyes. She looked like his grandmother, Arya Stark. Catelyn held the other babe.
"I have a name for this little one," Ned said, holding his daughter close to him.
"Oh, and what is that, my Lord?"
"Arya, after my grandmother. Does her sister have a name?" Ned asked.
"Sansa. Sansa and Arya Stark" Ned had twin daughters. Sansa was like Robb, taking mostly after Catelyn, while Arya was all Stark.
"I will write to my mother and tell her the news." Ned placed little Arya into Catelyn's arms.
Breakstone Hill, the North
282/283 AC
Jon sat with his great-grandfather in the Great Hall. The young lad had a keen mind for learning; he was smart as a tact and sharp as a whip, like his father before him.
"Grandfather, could you tell me the history of House Flint?" Jon was not yet old enough to learn to read. That didn't stop the secret king from trying to learn.
"History of the Northern Houses," Rodrik said as he brought a heavy book onto the table. With Jon securely in his lap. Rodrik flicked through until he came to the House Flint section.
"House Flint of Breakstone Hill is often referred to as the First Flints or the Flint of the Mountains. House Flint was founded after the Long Night. Ruling over the North as King of the First Men till they were deposed by House Stark of Winterfell, the Kings of Winter.
Two candidate branches of House Flint exist in the form of House Flint of the Widow's Watch, whose words are Ever Vigilant, and House Flint of Flint's Finger, whose house words are: Steady are the Fingers of the Flint Stone.
House Flint of Breakstone Hill's house words are As Unyielding As Stone, and their sigil is a black mountain on top of a blue pile with a green background." Rodrik finished reading the history of House Flint. "That's the history of House Flint. Are there any other Northern Houses you wish to know about, grandson?" Rodirk kissed the side of Jon's head.
"No grandfather. Have you ever fought the Wildings or climbed the Wall?" Jon suddenly asked.
"Yes and yes. Your grandmother climbed the wall, as did your great-uncles."
"What's beyond the wall, Grandfather?" Jon questioned.
"A harsh land filled with wildings, direwolves, giants, and all sorts of dangerous things that like to eat little boys," Rodrik began to tickle Jon mercilessly.
"Stop, grandfather, I yield." Jon laughed as the door opened, and Lyarra walked in with a scroll in hand bearing the seal of House Stark.
"Who's the Raven from Daughter?"
"It's from Eddard," Lyarra answered, taking a seat. "Ahh, the History of the Northern Houses. Getting in early with Jon"
"It is never too early to learn about his people and the Houses of the North. What does my grandson have to say for himself?" Rodrik placed Jon beside him.
Mother I hope this letter finds you well.
I hope you, Jon, and Grandfather are in good spirits and fine health. I have some wonderful news: you are a grandmother again. You have two beautiful granddaughters. Sansa and Arya. Both they and Catelyn are doing well.
I hope you, Jon, and Grandfather will come and visit soon. Robb has been asking when you will be coming to visit or if we are going to visit you. He is besotted with his little sisters.
All my love, your son, Ned Stark. Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North
"When are we going to visit Uncle Ned, Grandmother?" Jon asked, excited to meet his younger twin cousins, Sansa and Arya.
"Soon, my little wolf," Lyarra answered, kissing Jon on the forehead.