Garlan -Highgarden 302AC
He knelt on the cold ground next to the rosebush where they placed his brother's bones. "Hello Loras." Garlan said. "It's been a while. I'm sorry for that, but I've been busy helping Willas." His brother had maintained his rule over Highgarden as father remained lost in his madness of despair. A fact that bothered him still. He's enjoying it. He doesn't want father to get better. Would he give it up if father recovered? Garlan knew he would be honor bound to support father if that day arrived. I still retain the loyalty of the household guard. Though they were foul thoughts, and he prayed it wouldn't come to that. Currently, Willas was in that dreaded cave with Margaery and grandmother, plotting something, no doubt.
But those were plots he had no wish to be a part of.
"Willas is to be married soon." In a moon to Lord Tarly's daughter, Talla Tarly. "I wish you were here to see it." His voice broke. It would have been Loras's nameday three days past. He would have been a man of eighteen.
A small smile formed. "I brought someone to meet you."
Garlan stood up, and his darling wife handed the most precious thing in the world. "My son. His name is Loras." The babe cried out a hello and Garlan felt the tears stream down his cheek. "I named him for a brave knight and a good man. I hope you approve." Leonette placed her hand on his shoulder in support as a gentle breeze sent pedals flying. "thank you Loras." He replied to his brother's response.
The Wall -The Lion Clad in Black 302AC
"The Wall is mine." Tywin Lannister mumbled in the quarters of 997 Lord Commanders before him. He was clad in the dark wool and leather of the Nights Watch. A blind maester served him and the men underneath were little better save his Lannister men. The so named Old Bear had died a queer death. Likely one of these criminals. The promise of Lannister gold and the men who followed him into exile smashed his opponents, whom were deadlocked for his rightful seat. What was a Mallister or a Pyke to a Lannister?
The Wall was his and part of his legacy.
And legacy was the only thing that mattered.
Her castles had fallen into disrepair. They manned only three of them with any significant strength. It would require significant time and investment to see it reversed. The men who wore the dark cloaks were poor tools, his so named brothers and this King Beyond the Wall could sense such decay. He shall grow bold with his tests. A terrible mistake he would not take kindly to challenges. He was a Lannister and some savages or incompetent criminals would not outsmart him.
Tywin drank a single goblet of beer. I shall leave behind a legacy of black gold.
A lesser man would let the Wall fall into decay to hurt the Starks of Winterfell, but such would impact his legacy. No one would call him incompetent and he was no lesser man. I'm a Lannister and that means something.
He whistled the Rains of Castamere as he got to work.
Lannisport – Tyrion 302 AC
He fucked the whore until she met his needs. She seemed on the verge of tears, but he didn't care. The only thing he saw was his Aunt Genna dead at his feet for stealing what was his. Tyrion wanted to strangle them all for denying him his birthright. They laughed me out of my own halls! The shitty spawn of his uncle dared to take what was rightfully his. "If you seek compensation, uncle," Willem Lannister said. "I can provide it. Your talents can still serve House Lannister." Aunt Genna at his side, whispering words of counsel into his ear. Fucking Freys had taken over his seat of power with their weak chins.
"I wish not compensation. I want what I'm owed." He replied.
Willem's eyes narrowed as if he were Tywin Lannister. "I owe you nothing, a charity case at the mercy of my benevolence."
"I'm Lord Tywins only son."
"A stunted lion is no Lord of Casterly Rock." Willem said. "The Lords of the West have laughed at your claims. The Regent of the Iron Throne has supported my ascension."
Tyrion smiled. "Be careful cousin, even stunted lions have claws." Lannister guardsman moved to detain him for such a threat, but his usurper of a cousin waved his hand.
"Tis unneeded. Let him waddle out. It's all he is good for. The Waddling Lion of the Rock." He quipped. "A sad little jape of a man." The entire court laughed and his cheeks burned red hot.
The seed of a fucking Swyft dared to command him, the son of Tywin Lannister. Casterly Rock is mine! He fucked the whore harder and placed his hands around her throat, squeezing. It became his cousin who begged and pleaded for mercy, but he would show him none. It was not her desperate blows that made him stop, but the opening of the door.
"I paid-"
Foul breath greeted his nostrils, and Tyrion noted the dagger in his hand. The man smiled. He was missing half his teeth. "Whatever someone is paying you, I'll double it." Tyrion remarked. The whore shoved him to the ground off the bed. His jaw hit the hard floor, and blood flowed. "Fucking bitch!" Tyrion cursed her. He cursed his father. He cursed the gods. He cursed his kin, who took what should be his.
The man took one step and collapsed on the ground, steel kissing straight through his heart. Blood sprayed, and the whore screamed. Tyrion wanted her to shut up as he rose with a smile on his face. "You have just won yourself whatever you wished." He chimed to his rescuer.
The blow that struck him made his vision darken.
Tyrion woke up with a sack over his head and felt the rocking motion of a boat.
One of his kidnappers uttered. "The Spider will be pleased."
"He better hope the dwarf is worth it."
And Tyrion knew he had a game to win yet. And I'm amazing at the game. Laugh at me all you wish cousin, I shall return one day and you'll see a Lannister always repays his debts.
Ned Red Keep 302AC
The sound of silverware cutting against plates filled the dining room. He sat at the head of the table with his household, joining them for supper. Sansa sat to the right of him with perfect poise as she ate small bites. She had insisted it was her duty as the eldest daughter of House Stark to help oversee the household in Kings Landing. Ned could find no reason to dissuade her from taking up residence with himself. The Lannisters were gone from the city along with their ilk. It was a safer place to reside. As safe as the viper's den could be. Ned was happy to have his daughter with him in the capital, with Catelyn returning to Winterfell. Guardsman joined them as well, Ned often had them sup with them. His two wards, Tywin Frey and Martyn Lannister, ate quietly to the left of him. Martyn was a bitter lad, but he had caused no trouble worthy of correction, and Tywin was rather misnamed. He was a quiet boy with a kind smile. Lady Jaina Redfort had been taken as Sansa's lady-in-waiting, per the request of Lady Myrcella Arryn. She was betrothed to marry Lord Arryns younger brother, Robert. Lady Aemma Waynwood also joined them and Lady Rosamund Lannister, formerly in the employ of Lady Arryn. Sansa had requested the granddaughters of Lord Manderly join her as well. I suppose it'll be fine to have some northern ladies as part of her entourage. More warm faces to have a conversation with, and Lord Wyman was a fine man. No doubt his granddaughters were of similar disposition and would prove sweet companionship.
"How fare the matter of court father?" Sansa chimed softly.
He dabbed his chin. "Well, enough love." In court, he only saw petitioners whose worse dispute was the boundary marker between two minor lordlings. The Iron Throne was a hard seat, but it was his duty to Robert to sit it on his behalf for as long as Robert was determined to live out his fantasy in the East. Oh Robert, how long shall I be here? He yearned for Winterfell and the grey walls where a Stark belonged. The Small Council had its first meeting yesterday in several months. Nestor Royce had done an admirable job in attempting to manage the realm's finances in his absence. The gold from the Tyrells and Lannisters had proved a boon in balancing the books. A good thing Winter was Coming. Edmure Tully had taken up his post as Master of Laws and was a welcome voice on the Small Council. Though he found his new dealings with Casterly Rock disquieting. A marriage contract between House Lannister and House Tully with the betrothal of Lady Cerenna Lannister to Lord Edmure. A lot of Lannister gold as well. "It was a good deal." Lord Edmure defended it. "I secured a handsome dowry." He had no quarrel with the girl, but he had seen this dance before. Lord Stannis had sent a man to act in his stead, Ser Davos Seaworth as acting Master of Ships. A reasonable act given he was establishing himself as Lord of Storm End. By all accounts, he was doing his duty well in incorporating the banners of the Stormlands under his authority. All of them seemed to be relatively honest and capable men intent on helping him do his duty to the Realm. The only man that gave him disquiet was the spymaster Varys, but he had given him no cause to order his dismissal. He knew his craft and knew it well.
Kings Landing differs vastly from when I first arrived.
Steward Poole entered and offered a light bow. "My lord." And handed him a missive. "From the High Septon."
He grabbed it and skim it. By the end, he was as solemn as a crypt. Robert, you thrice damn fool. "Father?" His sweet Sansa asked him, concern in her eyes. It would do her no good to keep it from her, she would know soon enough.
"Nay daughter." Ned said somberly. "The Faith of the Seven per the order of the High Septon have excommunicated his Grace King Robert from their flock on charges of heresy." It was a matter of Septons he knew precious little of. But it seems he would have to deal with the High Septon over this. It was a threat to Robert and his hold over the Iron Throne and he was honor bound to defend his friend and king. Her Ladies in waiting gasped and brought their hands to their mouths appalled. "Not good King Robert. Seven save his soul" The lad Martyn looked to say something, but a sharp elbow from Tywin Frey had him hold his tongue. Ned rose from his seat and kissed her on the brow. "Sorry, love, I shall have to summon a Small Council meeting, it seems. It was a lovely dinner."
"I understand, father. Give Uncle Edmure my love." My sweet girl, she shall make a fair queen.
The Gates of the Moon -Myrcella 302AC
They placed the jade cyvasse board on the polished slab of marble. She moved her jade heavy calvary man to threaten his flank and see his catapults burned to the ground. The move was a feint. She wouldn't waste such a piece on a move. It would inspire a response from his pikeman which would be a fair move, but would weaken his center, allowing her to finish him by rushing her spearmen and Elephants to overwhelm him and secure his king. Jasper rubbed his chin as he watched her closely. "Interesting move." He still had some sweat on his brow from his daily workout in the courtyard, and it was slightly distracting. She giggled as he studied the board, looking for some escape. There's no escape for you husband of mine. You're trapped and I like you helpless. But then he didn't move his pikeman or any units to support his flank. She gawked at him as he aimed his catapults against her infantry. It forced her to withdrawal, and by the end she couldn't help but huff in annoyance when he knocked her king over. Oh well, he wins occasionally.
Jasper seemed very pleased with himself. "Shall we go again? I do like this feeling." He stretched back in his chair, completely relaxed. An expression she had seen on his face more often. Jasper seemed calmer as of late. Fatherhood and his trials seemed to have caused maturity in him. Though he still had his nightmares and she still caught him staring off in the distance as if in another land entirely. Still, he wasn't nearly as high-strung as he once was.
"I would be more humble, Jasper. You've never won twice in a row."
"Or maybe you aren't as good as you think you are, Myrcella?" She offered him her sweetest smile and thought about how badly she was going to destroy him as they reset the board. I'll wipe that handsome smirk off his face. Maybe it wasn't healthy to think of her husband like that, but she felt more comfortable around him to be competitive at the game. She was secure in her position as Lady of the Eyrie and could humble him a tad. The talk shifted to politics as it often did when they played. He appreciated her insight on things. Once, when she asked why he was so inclusive of her in his councils, he replied. "Oh Myrcella, I know you seem intent on playing this game of lords and I rather work in lockstep rather than tripping over one another." He brushed a loose strand of her hair to the side. "And my ser told me the rare intelligent woman should be cherished and her counsels appreciated. So I'll tell you everything I know, and you shall do the same and we shall soar high you and me." It was very romantic of him and she rewarded him with a shower of soft kisses.
"So you are moving forward with our plan?" Myrcella asked.
Jasper nodded. "I sent the missive this morning for it." The plan was leveraging Jasper's hold over Varys, a fact that pleased her even if she was weary of the eunuch. In Lord Starks court, he was vulnerable of instant dismissal should Jasper inform on him of his prior plot to pit Winterfell and the Eyrie against one another. It would hurt them, and their influence as well, for Jasper had not informed Lord Stark of such, but it would be recoverable. Varys would not recover and would understand that, but they could not reach for the moon with their demands. This request was within reason. The High Septon had dealt her family a swift blow with his excommunication of father and needed to be removed from the board for it and replaced with a man of their own. The Gods had been kind in making the High Septon a lustful and sinful creature of his own who spent nights of debauchery in the whorehouses. It made her blush lightly thinking of it. It's very wicked of him for a godly man. Varys had provided evidence of such, and Ser Donnel Waynwood, a commander of the City Watch and their man in the city, would catch him in the act. The outcry from the Faithful would topple him and allow a new High Septon to be selected. In the interim to shore up their position with the Faith of the Seven, it required them to send for several respected septons in the Vale to oversee her brother's education. We need to remain wrapped in the protection of the Faith of the Seven. On all of this Jasper and herself had reached broad agreement, but it was over the candidate they intended to back, they still disagreed.
"I mislike, you intention of selecting Septon Gwayne over, Septon Eldir." Myrcella admitted. "Eldir is more ours than Gwayne."
Jasper nodded. "Tis true, but he wouldn't win Myrcella. We need the support of the Riverlands and Westerlands clergy to carry the day which requires the backing of Riverrun and Casterly Rock." Gwayne was the compromise choice that her so named kin in the Westerlands were willing to support. A more pragmatic if a dull man with some distant ties to House Tully made him the best option for all parties. Still, it made her bitter.
"I know, you distrust them for the disappearance of your uncle." Jasper voiced gently. "But we need to work with them, Myrcella."
And it was a fair point to make. She did mistrust them for what had to be the slaying of Uncle Tyrion and it compromised her judgement to a degree, but it was the lack of control over Septon Gwayne that troubled her. "And do you truly think he shall be ours?"
Jasper sighed. "I'm reasonably confident, but nothing is certain I suppose, but he'll be keen enough to know conflict between the Crown and the Faith benefit neither of us." And they had to make these plans, as Lord Stark had proved remarkably feckless in handling the challenge. The High Septon had refused to answer the letters from Lord Stark, and had refused him an audience in the Sept of Baelor. Lord Stark replied by withdrawing the City Watch from patrolling around the Sept of Baelor. Both sides had dug in. It was a brazen disrespect that could not be tolerated.
She moved her dragon across the board. "Well," she smirked. "Father's apology and offer to enter correspondence with the High Septon would give them enough to lift the excommunication." It had been her suggestion to do such and with Jasper's voice beside her own, they swayed farther to play the farce with them. Father wouldn't have trusted my word alone, but valiant Jasper, a skilled knight and an expert hunter, was high in fathers esteem.
"Yes," Jasper said with amusement. "Thanks to my beautiful spymaster of a wife." He winked. "How fares Cousin Sansa and Lady Rosamund? Do they still plot to make Wylla Manderly as Cousin Robbs wife? A fair move uniting White Harbor and Winterfell. It would shore up the Northern bulwark." Sansa kept her closely informed of the going ons of the capital, and Rosamund watched Sansa to see what she didn't tell her. It was poor having her watch Sansa like that, but it was for her own good. I can't have her do anything foolish. It wouldn't do.
Myrcella blushed and giggled shyly. "I am beautiful, that is true, but I find you quite handsome." She leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips as she caressed his cheek. Hopefully, I shall distract him and then I'll win our game. His eyes narrowed much like a falcons and grabbed her hand.
"Wife," He chided. "Hands to yourself until after we are done. Tis cheating otherwise."
Myrcella pouted at being caught. "I was just being a good wife, husband." She feigned innocence as her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though am I so distracting to you?"
He laughed nervously. "Distracting? Um, well define distracting. I find people who speak in the third person distracting, but that's more irksome." He cringed. "Not that you're irksome!" His smile turned sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for my awkwardness. It's unknightly." In court, he followed his High of Honor rules religiously with his flashy polite words, but he was an awkward youth at heart. Though it was charming in its own way and she was happy to see him comfortable enough not to always play the knight with her. She grabbed his hands and gave a gentle squeeze.
"No need to apologize for being honest." Myrcella chimed. "Nor embarrassed. I don't mind you're an awkward falcon, you're my awkward falcon." Though when he knocked down her king, a second time her nose wriggled madly, and she was wroth with him.
Twice, he beat me twice in a row! He never beats me twice, the occasional game to be sure, but never in a row.
Myrcella eyed him down and understood she had to be giving something away. She could see the amusement in his eyes. "Jasper Arryn, you know something I don't!"
"I do?" He played the fool, but not well enough.
"Jasper! You're a dreadful liar! What am I doing wrong?"
His look turned very smug. "But I do like winning. Why would I tell you?"
Myrcella pouted her lips and gave a practiced, sad look. "It would make me quite sad. Would you want a sad wife?" She even added a sniffle for good measure. "I try so hard to make you happy."
Jasper fought her only a little longer before caving. "I was just teasing Myrcella. I forbid you from being unhappy. Tis not acceptable to me. You are a good woman and it wouldn't be proper form seeing you unhappy." His tone was a lords command, but his eyes looked worried. And he told her about the minor tell she would correct for future games. She brightened and swooned into his chest at the worry and concern she saw in him. She loved seeing it. He loved her, and she loved him. I toy with him a bit too much. I'll make it up to him.
"I'm so faint." Her voice was ever submissive. "Please carry me darling and do what you please with me. Put a son in me. A little Brynden if it pleases you." And she knew he would love to name a son after his ser. He was like a father to him. His eyes widened ever so lightly and caressed her cheek gently with a thumb before he acted and started kissing her and it pleased her deeply. They would make another son this day.
Sunspear -Doran 303AC
The skull provided him a perverse sense a pleasure. It wasn't the Mountain that Rides, but Ser Amory Lorch who stabbed his niece hundreds of times. Yet, it was the Tyrells who received justice for their dead son. A slight from the Iron Throne. They received the Mountains head, and we earned the scraps. A gesture from an honorable man that meant little.
Oberyn entered his solar as flashy as a viper and Doran wheeled around to face him. "Brother?" He whispered. "You seem troubled." His brother kissed the skull as he always did when he entered the room. It thrilled him, knowing such a man was dead.
"It seems my dear nephew Quentyn is sick, confined to his chambers." His voice was filled with mockery. "I'm here to offer my condolences, of course."
A light chuckle left his throat. "Does it bother you?" Doran could read him well, he was as coiled as a rattlesnake about to strike. "I tell you what you need to know."
Oberyn laughed. "Ah, yes, your infamous plans." Heat filled his voice. "I hate to tell you brother, but Lord Tywin now rots on the Wall, Ser Barristan the Old slew the Mountain, and Ned Stark gifted even this scrap of a prize to you on a golden platter. Everyone involved in our sister's death is dead or rotting on the Wall and none by our hand. It makes a brother upset." Oberyn poured himself a goblet of sweet arbor. "What more do we have to do?" He swirled the wine before sipping it. "I suppose I could try to kill the Usurper in the Disputed Lands."
"Fire and Blood." Doran whispered. "Our niece and nephew should sit on the Iron Throne."
"The murder of children seems dark, Doran."
Doran didn't see it that way. "Are you growing soft on me, Oberyn?"
"Soft? Never." Oberyn retorted. "I still don't murder children. A small line, but it's the one I have." Power makes monsters of us all and he was committed to that outcome to destroy Tywin Lannister's legacy. I can have no rest knowing his plots succeeded over the corpses of my family.
"They won't always be children." He let the words hang over him and a silence filled the room. Silence and Oberyn didn't mix as he leapt from the cushion seat he had taken for himself.
"You really need to get out of this stuffy room. It fills you with such dark thoughts." Oberyn quipped.
Doran smiled. "I have everything I need here."
His brother studied him like a viper, about to pounce, as he bent his legs to get on his level. "Don't think I haven't noticed you still haven't told me where my nephew is off too." Naturally, I suppose it's time for him to be brought in this plan as he brought him in all the others. Doran told him the truth of how he was sending Quentyn to bind House Martell with Queen Daenerys, who owned three dragons. The dragons have been reborn and would burn the Usurper and his line to a crisp. Oberyn gazed at him, his face stony silent before he bursted out in laughter that had him struggling for breath.
"You sent Quentyn, shy, dull Quentyn, to seduce a dragon queen?" He struggled to stay upright. "Oh Doran, you fool."
Doran bristled. "It is the most serious match politically."
"Boring," He waved his finger. "You sound like some of my maester instructors' dull prose, nose deep in some dusty scroll. Obsessed over technicalities. A woman like the Dragon Queens of old needs to be excited, I accept." He offered a mock bow.
"You?"
Doran considered it. His brother had always been wild, handsome, and athletic. His ability to charm women had caused him some headaches over his lifetime. Maybe the hotheaded viper is what they needed to tame the dragon to his side.
"I always wanted to see a dragon." Oberyn mused. "Maybe I can ride one? What an experience that could be." The idea seemed to entice him. Even if I wished to forbid him, I know that look he'll go, anyway. "I'll take some of my girls with me. No doubt she'll wish to have some interesting woman company. They could become close as sisters."
"I have not said yes, Oberyn."
"Ah, but you have. Your eyes tell me all I need to know."
It could work, but they needed to have a public falling out to hide the ruse. Deception was their friend from the usurper and his spies. The grass hid the viper while he waited to strike. Yes, it could work. "I suppose Quentyn is about to make a nice recovery."
"Good." Oberyn smiled. "find the boy someone sweet. He'll need it."
Bran -The Gate of the Moon 306AC
"Why are we here, my prince?" A woman who looked eerie similar to Arya asked. "How does this place involve the song of ice and fire?"
The man was tall, clad in a plate as dark as night with the three red-headed dragon of House Targaryen. His silvery hair was long and beautiful, flowing well past his shoulder. "Everything." He remarked sadly. "Tis everything, sweet lady." The water was a dark blue and light greenish color in the sunlight as an island loomed in the distance. An island of ancient power that made his skin crawl. "I've seen a prince retrieving a blade for his Visenya from the Green Men on the Island of Faces."
The Arya look a like placed her hand over her womb.
"My son Aegon is the prince, and our daughter shall be his Visenya." The Targaryen prince entangled his arms with her own.
She nodded. "And they shall bring the Dawn!" Her voice was filled with conviction.
Violet eyes narrowed and Bran swore they could see him. It sent a shiver down his spine. "Rhaegar?" She asked.
"I thought I saw something." Prince Rhaegar looked pensively at him for a moment before shrugging. "Or mayhaps not." She told him he was merely tired as any hero with the destiny of the world riding on his shoulders. A man clad in the milky white of the Kingsguard arrived and spoke of a boat they had retrieved to ferry him across.
When Bran was younger, he would have screamed when he woke, but now he merely opened his eyes. He found Tommen where he often was in the courtyard, testing his mettle with any who dared. He often fought two men at once said it was more realistic to an actual fight. Tommen had grown tall and beautiful since boyhood in the Eyrie with long flowing golden strands of hair, as long as a girls, but he was broad in chest and shoulder. A maidens fancy, but he never paid them much mind save telling his terrible jokes. He loved making ladies and lords laugh at his japes as he enjoyed beating knights bloody in the courtyard. Ser Robar Royce, his protector appointed by King Robert half a world away, oversaw the match. Tommen won as he normally did and offered him a smile that faded when he saw the serious look on his face. "Another prophesy?"
Bran nodded.
He told him of this one as he told him of all the others before. This was the first one where he had heard words and seen faces. In the past, he saw a tower in the sand with a star crashing into the dirt. He saw dragons dying amid the flames of a palace. A white lion slaying an old dragon with gilded claws in a castle of red. "It's important Tommen. I know it is."
Tommen brightened. "We have a name this time. A place to visit."
"And how do you think we shall get there without Cousin Jaspers leave?"
Tommen chuckled. "You're the one who comes up with the plans, Stark."
Bran groaned.
"I have one skill, the sword, oh, and my wicked sense of humor! Cella is the one with a mind of valyrian steel and I doubt she'll believe these prophesies as I do." Tommen said. "I don't see either in helping get us out of this castle to be where you need to be."
He considered it for a moment. "Well, maybe a small Royal Progress in the Riverlands? I doubt Lord Arryn would refuse, and it would be good for you to see some of your future vassals."
Tommen flung his arms around him. "Excellent! And I shall regale to you some hilarious quips along the way like this one. You'll love it." He said with complete confidence. "What did the pony say when he had a sore throat?"
Bran facepalmed and shook his head, dying. "What did he say?"
"Do you have any water? I'm a little horse. Get it horse?" Tommen snickered.
It got a small smile out of him as he chuckled. "You know what Tommen, that one wasn't half bad. Not half bad at all."
Authors note: Now, I take my big break with this chapter I already pretty much had finished up. When I start the Essos portion every now and again I'll go back to Westeros to show things. I've also made the realization a bit late that I never posted the timeline I was using. I changed some ages around cause I've always felt George made them too young. But now that I'm doing snippets over the 5 year time skip I know it's important to see in order to not get lost.
Timeline Ages Battle of the Trident 283AC
Arrival in Winterfell 300AC
Character Ages
Jasper 283 AC Ages 17
Robb 283AC Ages 17
Jon 283AC Ages 17
Joffrey 284AC Ages 16
Myrcella 285AC Ages 15
Sansa 285AC Ages 15
Tommen 288AC Ages 12
Arya 289AC Ages 11
Bran 290AC Age 10
Rickon 294AC Age 6