Jon
We are fucked.
The water from the basin beside his bed brought him no favors. He cupped his hands and smoothed the water over his face and eyes. It was cold. He kept his eyes closed and sighed.
The Targaryens and everyone in the south are at each other throats while the dead rises in the north.
It was dreadful, sickening. Jon wanted to deny it, just for his own being. But he knew better from experience, hard experience. The glass candles showed me…the white walkers. Every time I sleep, the candles shove their faces into my consciousness. The candles torment the mind, but the pain oftentimes comes with the truths.
We are going the wrong way, Jon thought, and we are fighting the wrong battles. We shouldn't be going to Casterly Rock or Storm's End. We should've been flying to the wall yesterday.
And uncle Benjen! Jon thought with a start. Robb told him that Benjen was a first ranger. And he's out there beyond the wall with them. That made his fist clench. I have to go north.
But what about the Targaryens? Jon thought with frustration. Can they meet the Lannisters and the Baratheons in the field and win? The realm was torn eighteen years ago, and the wound is only festering at this gathering of great lords. Aegon alone had endangered the alliance with Highgarden with his imprisonment of the Tyrells and his own wife. Would the Reach be so eager in aiding the Targaryens? Not even mentioning the attempt Loras did in trying to kidnap Rhaenys.
I saved her just for her to curse me and my dead mother's name… Remembering it made him angry again. Why should I help them at all? What love have they ever shown me?
Daenerys, Rhaella, Arianne, and Arthur popped into mind. Jon eventually calmed down to think more carefully. If Euron, Jon thought with distaste, is right about the threat of the dead, I cannot defeat them alone on dragon back even if the dragon is Cannibal. I wish with my whole being that it was that simple, to rush and save Benjen. But the whole world must march against the white walkers. Every lord in Westeros must call their banners. Hells, Westeros, and Essos might have to find a common cause.
Jon remembered the beast in his dreams, an ancient, winged beast, full of ice and death. The whole world must be told of the dead and fight, Jon realized. After we visit Casterly rock and Storm's end, Rhaegar must march to castle black. We can end the threat before the dead can even march on the wall.
Ghost lifted his head as Jon gathered himself with speed. He was just about done, strapping his sword and belt around his waist and in step to the door when it hit him, as sudden and hard as a war hammer.
Who is going to believe me?
That alone stilled him. Jon cursed out loud and made Ghost stare. Everyone thinks the white walkers are bedtime stories. They will laugh and call me mad. Jon grimaced. Especially when they learn of my name being Maegor.
But what choice is there?
None.
As he looked back down to the basin of water, the clear surface rippled and morphed into the smiling face of Euron. "You know what you must do," Euron said secretly. "Fire and blood, Jon. Fire and blood!" The image laughed maniacally. Jon gasped and splashed the water. He blinked, and the water was normal. I am going mad…
Jon sighed loudly and rubbed his face. Darkstar having a dragon, Tyrion being an unknown Targaryen and having a dragon, armies gathering in the west and south, Rhaenys and Aegon, the conflict between his families, the mystery at the Tower of Joy…all those struggles are seeping into his bones. Would it have been better if I stayed in Valyria? I would've died, but at least I don't have to suffer family issues, Jon thought with a bitter smile.
Jon and Ghost looked up at the same time when the door creaked to reveal Arthur.
"You don't have to come to fetch me, ser. You do enough babysitting as it is."
Arthur smiled a little. "Not this time, my little prince. You have company." Jon just noticed somebody standing behind the knight. At his gaze, she sauntered into the middle of the room.
Why are you here? Jon wanted to say, but it never left his mouth. Rhaenys struggled with her words as well, and the room was silent.
"Rhaegar is in his solar sorting out a few things. You have enough time before we depart," Arthur assured after a moment of silence. The knight looked more than happy to close the door behind him.
The thud of the door was the last sound to be made in the room. The two siblings stood without word or motive. Ghost was there, but when has that wolf ever made a sound?
I don't have time for this, Jon thought furiously. Though, he tried to make his face as blank as possible. Still, there had to be something in his eyes that made Rhaenys break eye contact and look around the room.
The actions of guilt, Jon thought. Still, it was pleasing to admire her form unseen. As it was currently the break of dawn, the princess was still in her nightwear. A shift of white that hugged her long and shapely frame nicely. With her curly black hair falling to her rear and her olive skin radiant in the candlelight, she was hauntingly beautiful. You shouldn't be leering at her, Jon snapped to himself. Beauty is poison, as she has shown me.
However, Jon found himself curious as to why the woman would visit him at the brink of dawn not a day after their spat around the grounds. To further antagonize me, I think.
"So, you're off flying to save the family again. Me again." Rhaenys looked back over to him with a small smile that used to have Jon's stomach in knots. It was still there, but Jon brought his anger to the surface to combat it. Her smile died when his face remained cold.
"How do you know this?" Jon asked briskly.
"Aegon told me. He was not happy with the idea of you and father going on dragon back to stabilize the realm and leaving him here." Rhaenys looked into his eyes deeply. "He fears that our father wants to replace him with you as heir to the Iron Throne."
Now that took Jon by surprise. "What?" Jon asked in what was a half scoff and half a laugh. Me? on the Iron throne? When he left Winterfell, that thought would've pleased him immensely. Now, after emerging reborn from the fires of Old Valyria on Cannibal and equipped with knowledge of the dark arts, Jon had a taste of true power and he found it to be sour. What happiness and glory does a seat compare?
"It is you that all he talks about. It was easy to figure out at that point. Aegon had built himself up on the foundation of being the perfect prince, always smiling and laughing. The perfect son for the king. Now apparently the lost son of Lyanna Stark is here to take all that away from him. Though, he didn't want to listen when I told him that his sending his wife to the cells is a good reason to do that. But when has ever a prince listened to a woman instead of his head and cock?" Rhaenys plopped down on one of the cushions near a table and took off her sandals. She reached for the flagon of wine.
"I do not care," Jon answered honestly. "He can keep his insecurities to himself. And do not touch that wine and please put your shoe wear back on, princess. It will not due for you to get so comfortable when you are not going to linger here for long."
Rhaenys's hand paused in midair at his sharp tone. She peered up at him, her beautiful face screwed up with disbelief…and dare he say, a pinch of hurt as well. Jon tried his hardest to set his face to stone, jaw clenched tight. Rhaenys eventually grasped the container anyway and poured the wine into a jeweled goblet. A heavy sigh escaped her full lips as she leaned back into the cushion. "Well, it is an understatement that we need to have this talk. That is due."
Jon pursed his lips and shook his head. "No." He found his black gloves and stretched them over his hands forcibly. "I have far more things of more importance to deal with than talk to you."
"They can wait."
"No, I think not."
"Why?" Rhaenys asked, taking another deep gulp from the goblet. She can handle her drink…
"We have already talked. Well, more so you did." Jon gave her a rueful smile. "I never imagined the hateful words that can come out of your sweet mouth. If I did, I would've thought twice before sticking my tongue down your throat. Even more alluding is your hands which seem soft and harmless to most, sting like a bitch. Or a viper, since you and your family share the same poison."
Rhaenys took a deeper gulp than before. "I didn't mean it, Jon."
"Oh, I believe you," Jon exclaimed sarcastically. "I also don't mean it when I accidentally kill a man by putting my sword in his heart."
Rhaenys eyed him over the brim of her goblet. "Is that what it felt like when I slapped you? I put a sword in your heart?"
"No." Yes.
"That's how I felt when you let Arianne parade you around like you are hers. In front of me. Instead of trying to fix our situation, you go off to seek another woman's affection. My own cousin to boot."
Don't switch the subject. Here is it again. The princess feels obligated to talk about what bothers her and not who she directly affected. Jon's ire spiked again. "Perhaps, I prefer her company over yours."
Rhaenys stared at him as if she didn't hear what he said, and Jon knew the wine was going through her system.
The princess played with the tip of her cup idly. "You don't mean that."
I don't. "I do. You must have known my feelings about my mother, how I could never meet her. You talk ill of her all the same. Spat on her grave. She has done nothing to you. How could she? She's dead, remember?"
"I remember," Rhaenys said softly.
"And you should know that I can never forgive you for that. I can't. You are upset that I am choosing to be with your cousin over you? You yourself is to blame."
Rhaenys closed her eyes with another forceful sigh. "Jon, I am trying to apologize." That's a first.
"I will not accept it." You hurt me. You will only do it again.
"You have to." Rhaenys stood to her feet with the goblet in hand, swaying on her feet. Jon noted there was a touch of desperation in her voice, so unlike the proud princess he knew. She is begging for my forgiveness. For some odd reason, it only dampened Jon's mood further.
"Why?" Jon shot back.
"Because I'm tired!" Rhaenys snapped, causing Jon to start slightly. Ghost watched them intently from the corner of the room. "I'm tired of this!" With her goblet once again empty, Rhaenys used it to gesture at the space between them. She waved it violently, scattering vestiges of wine all over the rushes. The goblet fell with a soft thud. "I'm bloody tired of being angry at you. I'm bloody tired of you being angry at me." She pinched her eyes closed. "I can't sleep. I can't…stop thinking about you." With her dornish accent rolling off her tongue, the words came out like a whip.
Her swaying grew worse. Jon noticed and felt concerned. "Rhaenys," he started but was cut off by the princess as she stepped closer.
"I was angry that you are what I didn't think you are. I couldn't accept you being the son of the woman who brought so much shame to my mother. Even more so…I thought you withheld the truth from me. It hurt. And I lashed out when I shouldn't. I know I am not perfect. I am very much flawed. But Jon, I don't want that to be the reason why I lost you…I am sorry…You hear me? I'm sorry, damn you!"
With that, Rhaenys lost her feet and stumbled forward, and Jon was there to catch her. All the fight fled his body as he let Rhaenys sink in his arms. And let her stay there. What am I doing? She is manipulating me, Jon scowled darkly. But with his hands around the white shift on her body, and the softness of her raven hair against his cheek, and her warm breath against his chest, it was an uphill battle to retain his anger.
"Damn you," Jon told her. "Damn you for doing this to me."
There was a heartbeat before there was a dry response of, "And fuck you for doing this to me. Sincerely."
Jon scooped her up easily and walked over to his bed. It was there he placed her and covered her with the blanket. Rhaenys sighed contently and rolled over to her side. She looks so peaceful. Jon resisted the urge to tuck away the strand of black hair that fell upon her face.
"You shouldn't have worked yourself like that." The words came out of his mind without thought.
"I agree," Rhaenys slurred, eyes closed.
Jon snapped his fingers for Ghost to follow and headed for the door, fully intending to escape the whirlwind of emotions the woman rewards him.
"Do you forgive me?" Came the soft question.
Jon's hand touched the door. I shouldn't. I shouldn't. I shouldn't. Being vulnerable is not going to earn my forgiveness. She cursed my dead mother. She put her hands on me. I shouldn't. I shouldn't.
"We will see," Jon offered curtly and stepped outside where Arthur was posted. The Dayne raised one delicate eyebrow.
"Women," Jon simply offered.
Jon turned on his heel and started down the corridor as Arthur chuckled from behind him. Ghost followed them as quietly and swiftly as a shadow. The Direwolf was bigger than all wolves and large as a horse, with strong sinewy muscles beneath his white fur. Deadlier than any man. I may need you to stay here, buddy, Jon thought to his wolf.
Ghost peered at him, disquiet clear in his ruby eyes. I need you to be my eyes and ears, Jon thought again. And I need you to protect the Starks.
He isn't lying. Even from a thousand leagues apart, Jon can see through the eyes of Ghost at any time, that's how strong their bond is. Jon needed his Direwolf here, as a precaution. The threat of Darkstar and his dragon looms over Jon every day, and he is not convinced that the man simply took sail and left. The man is probably waiting to strike, and Jon will be ready. A dragon is very much dangerous, but Darkstar's is just a hatchling, no match for Ghost's teeth and claws.
Ghost still looked hesitant, not a surprise considering the wolf goes wherever Jon goes. Jon scratched him behind his ear. "I will be fine, Ghost. I need you here. I am depending on you."
At that, Ghost licked his face and raced down the hallway.
"Is that smart letting the wolf have free rein around the castle? Around the great lords?" Arthur questioned.
"You are worrying about the wrong creature."
The dark-haired man and the fair-haired man entered the king's solar as one. Rhaegar was not alone. The kingsguard stood in a ring around the table. Arthur moved to join them. The king sat surrounded by Daenerys, Rhaella, Connington, Elia, Aegon, and Arianne.
"Nephew," Daenerys said cheerfully. "Good morning." When the woman smiled, it can light up the whole room. She was truly beautiful, with the classic Targaryen hair and violet eyes, and full lips men would die for.
"I am older than you by moons, Daenerys," Jon reminded her, for the tenth time.
"And yet I am still your aunt. Come, sit nephew." Daenerys smiled playfully and patted the seat between her and Rhaella. Someone hid a chuckle behind a cough.
She thinks this is a game.
Jon faked a scowl as he sat down and promptly pinched her in the side which made her snigger. "Goodmorning to you too." Daenerys responded with an even more severe one that made Jon flinch away. Aegon shifted from across the table.
The kingsguard chuckled, and Rhaegar watched them with warmth.
"Stop you two," Rhaella reprimanded, but there was warmth in her voice as well. "Daenerys, see? you ruined my grandson's hair," she complained. The queen dowager took it upon herself to reach over to ruffle his hair in front of everyone to see. There were even more chuckles around, but Aegon and Elia showed not an ounce of mirth.
"I see the princess is the only one capable of bringing the boy out of the dragon lord," Arianne jested from right across from him.
Jon met her dark smirking eyes and felt a familiar stirring. The princess of Dorne always looked like a temptation in flesh. He did his best to not look down at her prominent bosom. "I suppose."
"And I can suppose eventually someone else can do that too," Arianne said. Jon was startled when he felt a foot land on his shin under the table. Arianne gave him a look that he could only assume was sultry.
"Can we start the topic at hand, please? If it doesn't offend the dragon lord of course," Aegon said, looking straight at Jon.
"We can," Jon simply said, feeling the foot slide up his leg like a snake.
"Prince Viserys has departed for Essos to serve out his sentence," Rhaegar said, giving Jon a meaningful look. "He shall not return until I deem it serviceable so. IIIyrio Mopatis of Pentos will accommodate him. The magister has always been a friend of the crown."
Sounds more of a vacation than a punishment, Jon thought. But it was something. And he felt somewhat happy the king listened. Jon nodded to Rhaegar.
Aegon spoke up. "It was my dear brother that broached the idea to the king. He wanted justice for the two Lannisters." The foot on Jon's leg stopped momentarily. Rhaella and Daenerys flinched to the sides of him. Jon scowled at Aegon's smile. You piece of shit. And then Jon sat there, waiting for Daenerys and Rhaella to curse them with their every breath and hate him forever. Viserys is their brother and son respectably…Two more family members get to distaste me.
Rhaella surprised him with a gentle hand on his cheek. "It saddens me that my own flesh and blood is to be banished. To be away from his mother…but it had to be done." There were tears in her eyes. Jon did not blame her. Losing your son is a terrible thing, even if he kills children.
"He killed Tommen. An innocent young boy. He did not deserve what Viserys did to him…ten stab wounds to his chest… I will never forgive Viserys for that," Daenerys said furiously. Jon was even more surprised when the woman leaned over to kiss him fully on the cheek. Daenerys gave him a disarming smile. "And I thank you for doing what is right." And she laid a hand on his thigh. Jon's breeches grew tighter. Get a grip, Jon told himself. This is harmless. She is just showing gratitude. That thought went away when the hand slowly started rotating.
You are going to be the best aunt ever, eh?
The smile was off Aegon's face. Jon was not petty enough to smirk at him even when he wanted to.
"I have agreed to my son's plan to fly on dragon back to placate Tywin Lannister and Renly Baratheon," Rhaegar announced. "It is our hope that we can stop the brewing of war before it can boil." The kingsguard listened intently.
The foot on his leg resumed ruthlessly. It slid up his leg until it finally rested on his crotch. Arianne looked at him with a smile all the while. Are you mad? Jon said with his eyes. Arianne placed a finger to her lips in a shhh gesture. Jon felt the foot discard its sandal and return to his crotch with the soft texture of bare toes. They prodded and rubbed his throbbing private while everyone at the table was completely unaware. She is a demon. Jon is sure of it. He rubbed his face. He couldn't make a scene without anyone realizing what is going on. To make matters worse, Dany's had kept moving up and down his thigh. Jon hoped her hand wouldn't go farther than that. What would happen if she did, and she grabbed the princess of Dorne's toes? That will be awkward.
"I have a request, father," Aegon said. Rhaegar nodded. "I request that I come along as well. It is my duty to stabilize the realm, just as yours. The Westerlands and Stormlands need to see the face of the future king and feel less propelled to rebel again." A handsome smile broke his face. "If there are two dragons, might as well make it three. The dragon has three heads, remember?"
He makes a good argument, Jon admitted. That was clear on everyone's faces. Elia smiled. Jon Connington was thinking it in his head and nodding. Aegon looked around and sat back in his chair in satisfaction.
"I want you here," Rhaegar said instead. Aegon blinked at him. "The great lords have gathered here for one thing, to see absolute unity from House Targaryen. We have failed in that spectacularly," Rhaegar said bluntly. "As the crown prince of the realm, it will be up to you to rectify that in my absence. Start the joust, the archery, and the melee and hold many feasts. They will soon forget what has happened with glory and food and drink. And it is your responsibility to mend ties with House Tyrell, most notably your wife." Rhaegar smiled. "And maybe you can bless me with a grandchild. It is passed time to conceive your own children."
Aegon turned away from the king's smile to stare at the wall in front of him, face as blank as a dry sheet of parchment.
"My love, if you are taking one son, it is only good to take the other," Elia said. She did not look pleased. I wonder why. Shouldn't she be pleased to have him around? To continue to whisper in his ear about me not belonging?
"I have explained my reasonings. And I am not taking a son, this son is taking me. He is the dragon rider, not me," Rhaegar said. That was settled. Then there was the matter of protection and which Kingsguard is staying or leaving.
Jon tried to focus, but Arianne's small feet tortured him to no end. They touched and squeezed him through his breeches. Dany's hand kept going lower and lower. Jon can feel himself seeping from his throbbing. He bit his tongue, hard. He was at his breaking point.
Not being able to take no more, Jon leapt to his feet, drawing all of their eyes to him. He thought of something quick to say. "Cannibal is a prickly beast. He doesn't like it to be mounted by a lot of people. Some days he doesn't even want me riding him. Only one of the kingsguard, I say."
Arthur immediately stepped forward. "I request to go with, my king."
He is the greatest swordsman alive. Jon had no problem with it. He was sure the king will accept.
Rhaegar pondered him for a moment. Then he turned to Barriston. "This job seems more fitting for Barriston the bold. It takes a daring man to mount a dragon with no trace of Valyria blood in your veins." Well, damn.
Barriston nodded dutifully. "I will go wherever you command, your grace." Rhaegar nodded.
Arthur frowned but stepped back into the ring all the same. Rhaegar stood and looked them all over. He then turned to Gerold Hightower. "Make the formations accordingly. We will follow my son." Rhaegar then turned his purple eyes to Jon. "Whenever you are ready, we will depart." They stood to gather themselves and leave.
After a hug from Rhaella and even a tighter hug and another kiss from Daenerys, Jon left the solar to see Arianne walking down a corridor by herself. The princess gave him a playful smirk over her shoulder. She turned a corner, and Jon made to follow. It was easy to catch up, even easier to pull her around and pin her arms against the wall.
"My prince," Arianne breathed on his mouth. "My… how this image can interpreted. You have an unarmed woman pinned up against the wall, Yielding and at your mercy." Arianne battered her eyelashes at him innocently. "What will the dark prince do?"
"I should throw you out the window after the stunt you just did, but…"
"But?" Arianne bit her lip teasingly. Jon's mouth watered.
Jon grabbed her by the throat which made her squeal in delight. "But I have to return the torment tenfold."
Jon crashed his body and lips against hers. Arianne moaned in his mouth. She tasted sweet, and her thick bum felt good under his hands. Arianne giggled when he cupped them. It was in no time soon her hands reached into his breeches and sprung out his cock. Jon growled against her lips as she fingered his tip. Her small hands were around his shaft, expertly pumping him faster and faster. Jon nibbled at her neck, more of an attempt to stifle his moans. They were at it for a while, wet noises in a deserted corridor.
It was at his climax that Arianne silenced him by pushing her tongue back into his mouth. His shaft throbbed and erupted from the tip, spilling all over the ground.
Arianne held out his cock, slowly pumping and draining the last seeds. Jon shuddered against her touch, body twitching.
Arianne looked up at him with a smirk. "Harrenhall, full of ghost… and full of prince sperm." She got on her tippy toes and gave him another passionate kiss. She looked him in the eyes with heat. "Now I gave you the motivation to return as soon as you can, alive. To come back to me." She brought a finger to her mouth and licked it.
When Jon left for the grounds, it was full of shame. Why did I do that? Jon cursed to himself. I ran to her like a horse in heat. Rhaenys's face flashed in his mind, and he felt even worse. It feels like he betrayed her. Right after Rhaenys poured her heart out to him, he snuck around and fooled with her cousin, just as she said. I'm sorry…It was good that they had stopped it right there. It won't happen again. It was somewhat ludicrous. He owed no loyalty to Rhaenys, especially after what happened between them. But she asked-no, begged for my forgiveness. She gave me her case. It's only fair I give her a chance. I am not Theon.
His view of Arianne is simple and straightforward. She desired him. Jon was attracted to her as well. It doesn't go deeper than that. I have spent many years in Winterfell with servants and kitchen maids shunning me because of my status. Now I have a princess's affection. Isn't this what I always wanted? Jon did not know for sure. Rhaenys is more complicated and jumbled. She can inspire his greatest feelings and the worse. She can brighten his whole mood or plunge him into a dark hole. When Rhaenys was in danger, Jon sold a part of his consciousness to the glass candles to get her back, and she doesn't know. Jon did not know how to cope with it.
Robb is going to have a kick out of this.
It was on the grounds Rhaegar stood waiting with two columns of Targaryen men-at-arms. Barriston stood behind him, snow-white armor glittering in the rising sun. When the tall knight saw him, he shouted, "Form up!" At a snap, the men formed a wall of spears to the left and right of them. Jon felt the presence of Ghost somewhere lurking.
Jon looked to Rhaegar. The king met his gaze and gave a single nod.
Jon breathed and closed his eyes. He stretched his consciousness and prodded Cannibal. The dragon roared back in his head. Jon flinched. He needed the right wording to trigger the dragon's interest. Here. Come. To me, we hunt.
That appeared to be right. For a split second, his vision changed, something more serpent and sharp. More predatory. He loomed over charred bones of humans and animals alike; he wanted more, more blood, and more bones. Trees crunched under his hind legs. Power coursed through his being as he spread his wings, dark as death.
Jon blinked and it ended. "He is coming but tread lightly," he told Rhaegar and Barriston. "He is in one of his moods again."
Rhaegar stayed silent. Barriston gripped the pommel of his sword tightly. Can you be bold in front of a dragon? Jon wondered.
Even now, he can sense the fear from the guardsmen around him. It is like blood in the water for Cannibal. The dragon likes the smell of fear. It is the smell of prey.
The air shifted. The wind blew. More gusts came in. The trees started dancing. Rabbits, crickets, and dear ran quickly based on animal instinct alone. And on the horizon came a black dot. Jon can hear some of the guardsmen whispering. They were too low and full of anxiety for them to be audible.
Rapidly, the black dot materialized into a black bird until it was a black dragon. Then Cannibal was upon them. The sunlight reflected off ebony scales as Cannibal crashed in front of them. The force of it whipped Jon's hair from his face. Cannibal hissed, rearing his neck, and let out a devastating roar that can be heard for leagues. Jon can see most of the guardsmen were trembling. He credits for them because not even one dropped their spears.
Even from here, Jon can hear the yelling and screaming from the castle. No doubt they expect Cannibal to soar over them and cook them in their castle like Aegon the conqueror did to Harren the Black and his sons.
Cannibal stooped low, crawling, his spiked tail twisting, his serpent neck swerving around. His green eyes saw everything and missed none. Steam rose from his nostrils. His razor-black teeth, stained red from fresh blood, were borne enough for everyone to see.
"The beast looks even more beastly at a closer look," Barriston said tersely. "My king, I advise you to not go near that monster."
"I am not frightened," Rhaegar said and did not appear so. He did not blink as Cannibal hissed and snapped.
Barriston wheeled his head to Jon. "My prince, if I am not mistaken, that is fresh blood on his teeth, correct?"
"Yes."
"Is it harmful on my part to assume it can be animal or human this beast just feasted on?"
"No."
Rhaegar started his approach for Cannibal. "I am a Targaryen, Barriston. I am not frighted of the creatures that gave my house the seven kingdoms. If you cannot approach the creature, return to the castle."
Barriston nodded dutifully. Jon observed Cannibal, saw the fire in his green eyes, and said, "It will be best if Selmy stays behind your grace."
Barriston opened his mouth to protest but Jon held up a hand. "I do not doubt your bravery, ser. But at this moment, I don't think your boldness is going to stop Cannibal from roasting you in your white armor."
"Who is going to protect you?" Barriston argued.
Jon inclined his head to the dragon. Rhaegar gave the kingsguard a smile. "It is going to be alright, Barriston. I will trust my son's insight."
Barriston bowed stiffly and made his way back to the castle, the guardsmen following him in his wake.
Cannibal watched Rhaegar approach, eyes glowing like wildfire.
Robb
What have I done? He thought, hours after Domeric Bolton left his tent, fuming and holding his stinging cheek.
It isn't my fault. Robb growled. He should have kept his mouth shut about Jon.
It was simply bad timing for the Bolton to visit him. Robb's purpose was to find Jon and to talk to him about the future for them and for House Stark. The plan went to mud as soon as they met the arrogant Targaryens. Robb only got frustration instead. His frustration only increased when Domeric told him of all the grievances that he and northern lords shared about the Targaryens, most notably Jon.
"Jon is dangerous," Domeric had said. "He has thrown in with the Targaryens."
"There is nothing to prove what you just said is correct," Robb had responded. "Jon has always been loyal to the north."
"Has he? We all recall how Jon seemed to be seduced by the Targaryen bitch from the moment he laid eyes upon her. From there it only worsens. The man even gave the Targaryens Blackfyre, its symbolism and reputation greater than its sharp edge. Eventually, with a dragon at his back, he will bend the north to the king's will."
"Jon was raised by Starks, not the Targaryens," Robb had shot back. "Your words are folly."
"Yet he is more Targaryen than Stark," Domeric had said. "He has left you for glory in the west. He will once again leave you to be the prince in the south."
In a display of savage aggressiveness that surprised both, Robb launched a fist across Domeric's face with his whole body following through. Domeric had a look of murder in his pale blue eyes on the ground. Robb was too caught up in his rage to offer a hand or apologize. If the lord had felt the urge to retaliate, it was stamped by the growling of Greywind from the corner of the pavilion. The huge wolf had been on his feet, grey fur bristling and ready to pounce. Domeric had then left with a curse under his breath.
And it was now the beginning of dawn, and Robb was still up in tear about it. He is my father's bannerman. I had no right to strike him. The Boltons were an ancient house and one of the strongest lords in the north. And Robb might have just alienated him before he can ever transcend to the title of warden of the north. There is a chance the king removes the Starks from lord paramount. Robb grimaced. The Tullys too. Would Jon agree to it…No! He is a Stark just like me. He wouldn't do that to Arya.
From her side of the bed, Alys shifted. "What troubles you, my love?"
"How did you know I was awake?"
Alys was amused. "Robb, whenever you are deep in your thoughts, air comes out through your nose very similar to that of a whale."
Robb shifted to his side so that he was facing her. "I punched one of my father's bannermen."
Alys couldn't help but giggle and stab his forehead with her forefinger. "Only you would be so hot-headed to do that."
Robb fought the itch to smile. "It's not funny," he insisted.
Alys silenced her laughter. "Aye, it's not. Which lord was it?"
"Domeric Bolton."
Alys's face turned apprehensive. "I saw his father before, his bastard brother too. There was a look to them that I did not like. Domeric gives me the same itch."
"Karstarks have never been friends of Bolton," Robb reminded her. His father had to settle disputes between Karstarks and Boltons numerous times, mostly on lands and crops. "Of course, you feel bad ill."
"Obviously you feel it too because you hit the man."
Robb scowled. "He was badmouthing Jon." The wolves defend their own.
Understanding dawned in Alys's eyes. "My brothers told me of the lord's feelings towards Jon. It's nothing good. Him being a Targaryen made him an outsider to many one's eyes."
Robb made a frustrating noise. "He has lived in the north for most of his life! Did they forget that he has Stark blood as well as Targaryen?"
Alys smiled grimly. "His blood is tainted, they say."
Robb inhaled deeply.
"But," Alys continued, "I think it is merely words in the moment. They are stuck in emotion. When that cloud comes off their eyes, they will treat Jon as one of their own again."
What?
Alys saw the confusion on his face. "They do not like Jon being the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, that is known. But he is also the son of Lyanna Stark, as you have said. That is the woman the northern lords went to war for to save. Jon is the nephew of Eddard Stark, a man who is loved in the north. Not even mentioning the boon they could get."
"What kind of boon?" Robb was very interested now.
"Jon has a dragon, a living breathing dragon, a grown one. The king can kick rocks. Jon is the most powerful figure in the world now. The northern lords must see that. They can see trying to crown Jon against the royal family will be folly, but they can hitch a ride to power regardless. With his own hands, Jon can make the north the most powerful in Westeros. With a dragon, everyone will want to associate themselves with him. From Bravoos to Lys, imagine how much coin they will be willing to pay the north for the aid of a dragon."
"You sing a good song, lady wife." Robb smiled. "Let us hope they step with the tune."
"It is either dance or fall."
A monstrous roar rolled their stomachs and rocked their pavilion. Greywind was at his feet at once, snapping and snarling, golden eyes wild. "Jon," Robb said to Alys's questioning stare.
Robb threw a robe around his shoulders and pushed through the flaps of the tent, Greywind close at his side. The morning mist was met with the chaos of his camp. A glob of men and women stood outside their tents screaming as they watched Cannibal hover above the tree line. Dark and ominous, he looked like a creature of death. He is going to burn us all, Robb choked, and he couldn't find the strength to scream with the others. But the black dragon propelled himself to the skies with a CLAP and vanished into the puffy clouds. The force of his black wings snapped a few treetops at departure.
The turmoil of noise lowered after they realized the danger was not anymore present. "YOU ALL ARE SOME SCARY OLD HAGS!" came the booming voice of Lord Umber. A few uneasy laughs were the response.
It is sorry to say that I am one of them, my lord. Robb wiped off the sheen of sweat that formed on his head. Jon, may you leave forever. Everything will burn if you are not here to keep that monster under control.
"Robb!" Arya rushed to him, brown hair bushy and tangled. Nymeria was at her heels. Greywind nipped at her fur playfully. "That was Jon and his dragon! Where did he go?" Her grey eyes searched the clouds for a certain dark-haired fellow.
"I don't know," Robb told her honestly. He left without telling us. Just like last time…
"He didn't even tell us goodbye." Arya bit her lip. "Is he leaving us again?"
"No. Times have changed. He wouldn't have left us in dangerous territory," Robb said firmly. He wanted to believe his words himself. Yesterday when words had sparked between the two families, Jon had slipped away from the noise. Is Jon stressed from all of this? Does he just want to get away?
"The only way of knowing is asking the king," Robb told Arya. And he did not like it. He didn't want to walk into the dragon's den more than he has to.
"Let's go now," Arya insisted and grabbed his arm, trying to drag him to the castle.
Robb ruffled her hair and received a scowl. "Patience, pup. I must get the right attire."
Arya looked over quickly. "I don't see anything wrong, stupid."
"I can't go to the king looking like a beggar."
"That is your usual appearance."
Little shit! Robb made to grab her. Arya slipped out of his reach as quickly as a shadow. "Stay still and let me grab you!" The female Stark sniggered as he missed again.
Robb meant to chase her again when he caught sight of Theon marching his way to him. Theon's face was a war of anger and grief instead of his usual cocky smile. It cannot be good. Robb straightened; face turned serious. Arya stopped where she was, obviously seeing the look on Theon's face as well.
"Theon, what is wrong?" Robb asked his best friend.
Theon threw a piece of parchment in a wordless fury.
Robb looked at him questionably before moving the wrinkles out of the letter to look at it clearly. His eyes narrowed but quickly grew wide. His shock rose with each word his eyes touched. Gods…
He snapped his head to Theon who was struggling to hold it together. Sympathy and more else coursed through Robb. "Theon…Theon I'm so…"
"I've been a ward of the Starks for too long," Theon breathed out, his hands balled into fists at his side. "I have to go home."
Robb stared at Theon, battling with himself. He has been a ward of the Starks to quell any further Rebellions from the Iron Islands. But Theon has been loyal…and he is my best friend…don't I trust him to not attack the north as soon as we set him free?
Theon snarled at his silence. "It is my birthright."
Robb made his decision. "It is not in my power to release you. It is up to the king. We were on our way there. We can plead your case to him." Theon nodded stiffly.
Arya couldn't contain her silence any longer. "What is in that letter?"
"None of your business," Theon said tersely.
Robb shot him a warning look. "Careful."
Theon waved an impatient hand. "Yes, yes, yes. I apologize. Can we make leave?" Are you this eager to leave us? You have been with us since you were ten. You are my brother in all but name, Robb thought, disquieted. He pushed the childish feelings away.
"I shall first put on the proper attire." Robb moved back into the tent.
It was reluctance for Arya to leave Nymeria behind. But Robb wouldn't allow it, not when the Targaryens held so much leverage over them. As the three of them walked through the postern gates and through the halls, they were eyed with derision and anger. They didn't attempt to lower their words.
"House without honor," one voice said.
"A house that abducts babies," another said.
"Ice-cube brutes."
"The king showed better restraint than I bloody would!"
"Justice for prince Jon!" What in the hells!
"What?" Arya asked that person. "We didn't kill him."
"Might as well had!"
Robb grabbed Arya by the shoulders and kept her walking before she could respond. Still, Arya threw one more glare over her shoulder for good measure. Robb couldn't fault her for that. He has a similar boiling in his gut.
The white armor of Barriston Selmy at the king's solar was hard to miss. The knight's blue eyes watched them approach from the slit in his helm; they were blue chips of cold ice. "Robb and Arya Stark, Theon Greyjoy," he said without warmth.
"We request an audience," Robb said.
Barriston opened the door and poked his head in. A few exchanged words and the kingsguard stepped to the side to let them through.
The darkness of the room grabbed his attention first. The drapes on the windows were closed and blocked off any slither of sunlight getting through. There was a lone candle flickering at the desk in the back of the room. And that was the location where two men were stationed. One sat and the other stood. Arthur Dayne's white enameled armor glimmered ominously in the orange light. The silver-haired man watched them in silence, the fire burning in his purple eyes.
"Your grace," Robb greeted. The three of them bowed.
There was a cold laugh. "No, no, no. Not yet." The silver-haired man went to the drapes and pulled them apart. The sunlight touched his features. Theon cursed softly from beside him.
Aegon's smile held no warmth. "What can I do for my two wolves…" The prince threw Theon a disinterested glance. "And the squid."
Theon bristled. Robb responded before the dark-haired man could. "Jon is not here. I assume the king isn't either."
"Correct."
"Where did they go?" Arya pressed.
"Away from here, leaving me here," Aegon answered, his eyes narrowing with each word said. "It isn't that significant. It doesn't concern you."
Doesn't concern us? I'll show you what you have to be concerned with! Robb clenched his teeth until it hurt; with the sword of the morning watching your every move not seven feet away, that's all he can do.
Theon stepped forward, slight apprehension on his face. "My prince, we also came we a request. Since you are obviously ruling in the king's absence, it will only be correct to come to you."
"Speak." Aegon turned his back on them to walk over to a nearby table, peering down at the sheathed sword that lay there. Blackfyre, Robb thought. He can recognize the stunning artwork of the pommel anywhere.
Theon held the parchment in his hands. "We have just received word from pyk-"
"That your lord father Balon Greyjoy fell to his death crossing his towers? I have heard. Tragic. He should have watched where he stepped."
Robb saw the way Theon took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. The Greyjoy opened his eyes. "Indeed. But he is with the drowned god now. With his death, I am the lord of the Iron Islands now. I request that my captivity with the Starks end and that I can return to my home to take my rightful place at Pyke."
"My father took this sword from me," Aegon said, holding the sheathed sword in his hands and ignoring the three of them entirely. "I had it first. Jon directly gave it to me. But the king took it all the same at the slightest misstep." With a HISS Aegon drew the sword from the sheath. Beams of sunlight danced upon the dark swirls of the Valyrian blade. The prince admired the blade, pointing the sword this way and that. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Indeed.
"Yes, my prince," Theon said impatiently. "But as I was sa-"
"Don't interrupt me," Aegon snapped, promptly silencing him. "I am teaching you a life lesson. Gods forbid, you Ironborn scum need some of that like a man needs water."
Robb can see Theon was holding in his temper with all his might.
"I'm telling you that we can't get what we want," Aegon said, slamming the sword back into its sheath. "You are held captive to hold the Iron Islands in check. That will remain so now today and the day I become king."
Theon was as dismayed as he was angry. "But I am the rightful lord." His voice reached a higher pitch. "It is my duty to return to my islands to rule my people."
In quick heartbeats, Aegon stood in front of Theon, purple eyes ablaze. "Watch your tone," the prince growled in his face. "Before you swim with the drowned god with your father." The prince dwarfed Theon, in height and width. The Greyjoy had no choice but to angrily lower his gaze to the floor. Aegon then smirked, pleased with his submission. "Chin up, champ. Your people wouldn't have recognized you anyway. You lived all your life with your invaders. Your more wolf than squid."
"Kraken is the correct term," Robb told him coldly.
Aegon held his gaze and laughed. Someone needs to give this pumped-up prince a good long-ass beating. Robb pictured him having the silver-haired man in a chokehold, slowly cutting his air supply.
The prince made his way to his desk. "I refused. You have your answer."
Robb thought that was done then; even Arya turned for the door. But Theon snapped his head up, a vicious gleam in his dark eyes. "It appears that we are both mistaken. You indeed gave me your answer. But it came from the wrong prince." Theon gave Aegon a cocky smirk. "Jon is more wolf than a dragon, but his voice carries far more weight than yours." Aegon stilled, his back tensed with fury.
Robb's heart sank. You went too far. He was right.
Aegon pivoted gracefully and smashed Theon in the face with the pommel of the sheathed Blackfyre. CRUNCH and the Greyjoy was launched to the floor, knocking a chair off its feet.
"Hey!" Robb shouted in fury, stepping forward to avenge his friend.
Another blink and there is a large milky-white blade an inch from his throat. "Think carefully if you want to take a step forward or backward," Arthur Dayne warned.
Robb had looked up to the sword of the morning, but he hated the man with every inch of his being at that moment. He took a step backward. Aegon wiped the blood off the pommel clean and nodded toward the moaning Greyjoy. "Help your friend and retire. It appears his nose is broken," he tisked.
"Jon didn't need to use a sword to do that," Theon moaned through his pain, cupping his hands against his bloody nose. Robb and Arya helped him to his feet. They both threw death glares toward the smirking prince. How is this man remotely related to Jon? The gods were cruel in making Aegon Jon's blood brother instead of Robb.
On their way to their exit, Aegon said, "Robb Stark, the melee and the Joust will be underway soon. I myself will partake. I hope to see that steel you so proudly claimed of."
You will, Robb thought to himself. You will.
Ned
Mance Raider sat on his horse beside Ned, arms bound by manacles. Behind them were Ned's bannermen and ten thousand men consisting of spears, pikes, arrows, and swords. Even further behind was the wall, 700 feet high and simmering with cold. And from what this man tells me, this wall is the only defense standing between life and death, Ned thought, staring at the turn cloak curiously.
The wilding met his gaze and gave him a daring smile. "Do you think I am playing you the fool?"
"I am considering it. Wights, dead spiders, White Walkers, all these spills from your lips are naught but myths," Ned told him.
Mance's eyes turned serious. "Do not tell me what I did or did not see. You have never set foot beyond the wall until today. I have. I have seen them."
"As you have said." Ned remained skeptical. I may have brought all these men through the ice and snow just to be seen as a fool.
Mance's tone turned sharp. "What do you think explains the disappearance of Benjen Stark?"
That was a blow to the chest. His little brother was out there somewhere. "It may have to do with more of your wildings out there."
Mance laughed, and he laughed like Ned was a fool. "Benjen was in my tent when the dead fell upon us, same with Qhorin. They did not live. And the dead might have something in their possession we must recover before the wall is lost."
"We will see the truth of this. If I think you play me false, your life will be forfeit," Ned warned. Mance simply nodded.
Lord commander Stannis spurred his horse next to Ned's. His blue eyes painfully reminded Ned of Robert Baratheon, though their demeanors was night and day. Stannis grinded his teeth. "You should have brought more men," he said bluntly.
"I will see what lies out there before I subject my strength to this effort," Ned responded. "This can still be a trap laid by the free folk." Luwin had received ravens from Castle Black with updates about the wildlings. Stannis Baratheon had delivered a stunning at the Fist. The wildlings came down the skirling past disorganized and in panic. The Night's watch cut through them like child's play and took Mance Raider captive. From what the letters say, what Mance Raider told Stannis was worrying enough that the lord commander delayed his execution and requested aid from Winterfell.
"There is no trap. Only dead things, Stark," Mance said. "And worse."
What is worse than dead things?
All of his lords answered his call: Galbart Glover, Halys Hornwood, Rickard Karstark, Maege Mormont, Medger Cerwyn, Wylis Manderly, Helman Tallhart. They waited on their whickering horses, staring at the dark woods that lay in their path with slight apprehension.
Ned felt the fear as well but did not let it show. He is the warden of the north. This is his duty. Whether it be Grumpkins and Snarks or wildlings, we will rid the realm of their threat.
But as he motioned for them to move forward, he thought, may the gods watch over us all.
ARTHUR: I have a new fanfiction called The Bastard and The God's Eye where Jon is a captive/pupil of Euron Greyjoy. It is very dark but I think it is an idea which we all never knew we needed.