A/N: Hi guys. Just hanging in there as much as possible.

Enjoy and comment!

Chapter 6: Evesdropping

"Brace yourself!" screamed Baelon, hanging onto the special reins with all his might.

Safety harness secure round his waist just in case, Rickard nonetheless gripped Jon's waist as if trying to squeeze juice from an apple. Screaming his lungs out as Valyrax vaulted forward with a powerful beat of his wings and suddenly spun. Neck stuck perfectly out and wings folded tight against his body… shooting forward at a furious speed, the wind roaring around them.

"WHOOOOO!" Baelon shared not the fear of his cousin, instead feeling his heart pump and blood heat from the sheer joy of it all. The most wondrous feeling, defying the gods themselves with such power - high above the surly bonds of earth far below them. "Look cousin! Look st Winterfell, nought but a tiny pinprick in the dirt!"

"I'D RATHER NOT!" Rickard cried, shaking and bone white as Valyrax leveled off again, flight returning to a lazy glide.

The dragon snorted. This is embarrassing, kepa.

Jon laughed. "This is but his first ride. I was just as scared."

You were seven namedays, and you never screamed. The Prince was forced to concede the point to his dragon, a beast wise beyond his ears.

"Can we land now, Jon?!" shouted Rickard. "My life has flashed before my eyes more than once."

"Oh come now, where's your sense of fun?" Slapping Valyrax's scales, the dragon hooted and jinked up. Twirling in a loop… though that felt as if weak. Baelon and Valyrax had perfected loops almost three years before. Glancing down at the vast landscape, imagining his family watching him - especially his parents… especially Dany and Sansa - everything clicked in Jon's mind. "Boy, ready to do it for real?"

"What?! What did you say?!" Rickard was suddenly worried, not knowing a lick of Valyrian.

Valyrax seemed stunned. Are you sure, kepa?

"Let's show them just how powerful we are." They called him the Conqueror Reborn, but after this Jon and Valyrax would be the next Rogue Prince and Caraxes, just as his muna wanted. "Get ready to dive."

Good luck, kepa. I'll be right behind.

"Rickard," he called out. "Grip the spines."

"What are you doing, cousin?"

Jon rose from his saddle, taking a deep breath. "Just do it. Hold on tight and do not panic." The roars of the wind drowning out Rickard's following screams of terror, Jon leapt into the air and dove from how high he was. Immediately plunging faster than he had ever done before headlong towards the ground.

Behind, Valyrax roared but Baelon closed his eyes. Feeling the wind tear at his hair. The sheer sensation of free fall. It made him want to whoop, ever glorious… opening his eyes again, Baelon's heart thumped. The ground was getting closer and closer as he fell. Boy… where are you…

Another hoot found Valyrax plunging, back almost level with him. Ice formed in Jon's veins as he tried to almost swim through the air towards him… only for the smile to return as he grabbed the closest spine and yank himself upon the dragon. "Level out, boy!"

I know, kepa, I know. While Rickard continued to scream, Valyrax reangled himself and resumed a course horizontal to the ground. Only what had to be five hundred feet above the ground. Gods, it actually worked.

"I know! It worked! Whoooooooo!" Jon shouted in triumph. "Cousin, you just witnessed history." Rickard could only shake, teeth chattering.

Landing upon the snow in front of the Winterfell main gate, Valyrax surrounded by cheering townsfolk from Wintertown - he preened at the attention, something Syrax, Saephyra, and Nymerion oft teased him for - Jon gingerly helped Rickard down from his dragon's back. Settling him on the ground. Immediately Rickard fell upon the ground. Grabbing at the snow and kissing it. "Solid land… thank the gods…"

Jon chuckled. "Wasn't that bad, was it?"

"I… I… I may be… more wondrous of it… later…" Rickard, still trembling, offered his cousin a tiny smile.

Smiling back, Jon was about to say something when suddenly he was tackled to the ground. "YOU STUPID STUPID FOOL!"

He was soon beset by punches. Not light ones… these hurt. "Ow… hells… Dany! Sansa!" Taken by surprise, his attempts to block the attacks were rather weak.

"How dare you!" Daenerys could see only red - had she been a dragon, she'd be spitting dragonfire as she punched at his face. "How dare you almost kill yourself!"

"Dany… it wasn't… stop…"

"No! Damn you, Jon!" Sansa growled, raking at his chest with wolfish claws. Grey eyes almost black with fury. "You don't ever die! Not while I breathe!"

"Enough!" Both Ser Barristan and their uncle Benjen darted in and hauled the furious girls off of the Prince, to which Ser Arthur knelt and helped him to his feet. "Your parents are quite upset with you, Jon. What were you thinking?"

In the face of his teacher and mentor, Jon felt his proud bubble start to deflate. Perhaps… it had not been wise. "Forgiveness, Ser Arthur. I just wanted to give Rickard a good time and… I'd been planning such a move for a while and…"

"Wait!" Both girls stared stunned at him. "You did it deliberately!" Sansa cried, feeling her heart almost shatter at how easily she could've lost him.

Daenerys, teeth gritting in anger, thrashed from the grasp Ser Barristan had her in. "Damn you! Damn you, Baelon! Just wait till I get my hands on you!"

Jon lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Daenerys…"

Arthur took charge. "Get the girls back to their chambers," he asked the others - Barristan was his superior, so Arthur was grateful when he nodded and guided the still angry girls away. The glares from the both of them made Jon wince. Feeling as if struck in the heart. "Dace…"

Sighing, Dacey Mormont placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. "That was very stupid, Baelon. I thought yourself smarter."

"I was never in any danger, Aunt Dacey…"

"Still, you gave us all a fright." She motioned for Rickard. "Come on, lets get you to your family."

Nodding, Rickard turned to his cousin. "Thanks for it all, Baelon. In spite of it all… that was fun." Without waiting, he hugged Jon, one reciprocated.

When it was just him and Arthur, the Sword of the Morning looked down on his former squire - now fellow knight. "It was good that you made things right with him, my Prince."

"It was the right thing to do."

"You're a good lad… but I still have to take you to your parents."

Jon gulped. "Am I dead?"

"No, but I can't lie and tell you that they'll sweep this under the rug." Guiding his now fearful charge back towards the keep, Arthur remembered the look on Queen Lyanna's face. Better prepare to travel, then.

"You are beautiful."

"You are a fool."

"The only fool would be the one denying you are Meraxes kissed by fire."

A moan tumbled from her lips as she felt a hot tongue working away down her bare back. "Are you calling me a fierce dragon shot down over Dorne?"

Her lover chuckled. "Such a dragon held a namesake among the old pantheon, the goddess of love and beauty."

She did know this, but hearing him speak it out loud made her heart melt. Turning her head, she was met by his lips and moaned into a languid, hungry kiss. They were both breathing heavily when he broke them apart, foreheads resting together and his hard cock pressing against her ass as he straddled her. "You… you do mean that."

"But of course, silly woman," he laughed, red eyes filled with love and affection - the only one besides his mother and their brother in which his eyes held such emotions. "You are the one I adore."

"You shan't when my looks fade, being how much older I am than you."

He laughed. "Mayhaps I realize that a sorceress knowledgeable in the arts of our people can figure out a way around it." Returning to kissing down her back, her lover's hand reached under her belly, pulling her up to her hands and knees. "So ripe and juicy. The most beautiful flower in the world."

"Oh gods…"

"No, goddess. My goddess upon this earth." One of his hands mauling her hanging breasts, his tongue soon slithered through her wet slit from behind, feasting on her. Gods, how she loved it…

A tiny beam of sunlight besetting her eyes like a battering ram, Melisandre was forced to wake. Torn out of her sensual dream not by choice. She sighed, sitting up in the nude as she was inclined to sleep. Two fingers swiped through her slit. Fuck, I climaxed in the night. Such was the power of her memories.

So powerful as to provide her pleasure simply from remembering.

Yet such pleasure always left her heart aching and soul numb. Love. Her long-dead love, never for her to see and hold and kiss and caress ever again. Nothing she hadn't come to terms with long ago, but being here. Among… them… gods, it was harder.

You settled for this. With a sigh, she swung out of her bed and moved towards her closet. Left alone with her youth and beauty. No one ever to play it like a fiddle ever again.

Melisandre donned one of her more favorite gowns, one she didn't normally wear. It was Reach in cut, covering more than a Dornish gown would but still exposing her arms and some cleavage. It was crimson red as was her wont, but also with black swirls. She was feeling… sentimental.

The small council felt smaller without Lord Tywin or the Targaryens present - well, all but one - and yet there were enough to handle the matters of the Realm. Grand Maester Qyburn in his robes and chains, Master of Coin Tytos Blackwood, Master of Laws Titus Peake, Master of War Richard Lonmouth, Lord Varys, Lord Davos, Master-at-Arms Gerion Lannister, and last but not least Prince Aemon, the only one among them to be given leave to sit. Yet he rose when she entered. "My dear, Melisandre. Welcome."

Though he could never see it, Melisandre afforded him a warm smile. "I am glad to see you still spry and healthy."

"I may be old, but not out," he chuckled.

"Glad you could finally arrive, Lady Melisandre," spoke Gerion Lannister, tapping on the table. "We were already in the middle of discussions."

"Please, fill me in," she informed them.

Richard Lonmouth cleared his throat. "So Lord Stannis shall be arriving in King's Landing upon the return of their Graces from Winterfell, and the children will be accompanying him."

"Not Lord Robert?" asked Gerion, getting a shake of the head. "Thank the gods. Such would… not have been advisable."

"Why is Lord Stannis coming?"

"Ostensibly to see his nephew and the heir to the Stormlands… though…" Lord Varys spoke in that unsettling tone of his. "My birds whisper of an intent to seek a betrothal for Lady Mya."

"Perfect, just perfect." Gerion ran a hand through his hair. "Anything else, then?"

"Prince Doran again requests for Prince Aegon to foster in Sunspear. He's sent Prince Oberyn to King's Landing to persuade their Graces in person, though knowing him he'll take forever to get here."

Aemon chuckled. "Perhaps it would be good for Aegon to go to Sunspear. Healthy as he is, he's been sheltered."

Such discussions went on and on with Melisandre not speaking. Truthfully, she simply wanted to be done with it all, and thankfully she soon was.

Her quarters were her quarters, while that of her duties was kept adjacent to Grand Maester Qyburn's chambers - which he also slept in. With his work into the occult, they often overlapped, much as Melisandre disliked those of the Citadel. Qyburn was… different than the archetypal maester, but enough of one for her to be wary. Yet, he wasn't there at the moment, which would give her solitude.

Alone among the many braziers funnelling a rather welcome heat upon her, Melisandre approached the actual roaring flame in the center. A small opening in the roof allowed the smoke to waft out, leaving the air of the chamber stuffy but breathable. Enough for her needs as she left her hands atop the flames.

"Lord of Light, honored Tessarion. Show me your way. Show me the will of your munificence and a sign of your plans."

All she could do was wait for what was to come.

It hit Melisandre like a wave. Mere snippets, flashes.

Fire. Tongues of fire.

White eyes.

A gentle push and pull of waves… suddenly transforming into a raging torrent.

Shadows, flames as dark as night. One that crashed against a wall of red-orange fire and mixed in a panoply of color...

Stepping back, gasping, Melisandre's palms were also drawn back to her body… only for the flames to follow. Following as if tugged, and her hands struggling to move as if tugged back. She blinked, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. No… it can't be…

Pushing at the flames, they didn't move. Melisandre narrowed her eyes and pushed again. A tiny flicker. Concentrating harder, drawing upon the blood in her very veins just as she remembered, she pushed for a third time…

A tongue of flame shot out from the fire, crashing against the wall and leaving a scorch mark - thankfully no curtains or wood caught on fire, but she was of no notice of it. Gazing at her hands as if they spouted five more fingers each. The dragons brought it back… Valyria has not died…

If hers had returned, who knew amongst the new dragons - let alone the other great houses of such august origin - would hold such as well.

Seated on his bed, Prince Daemon Targaryen had his head buried in a book as many would normally find him when not at meals or training with his brothers. Choosing one from the Winterfell library - one his Uncle Ned allowed him to pick out whatever he liked as long as he brought it back - he immersed himself in the history of the Starks. As much his ancestors as that of the Martells or Nymeria's Rhoynish line in his mind.

Stories of the Dance often confounded him. How did Rhaenyra and the line of Alicent truly grow so much hate for each other? Both my munas love me even though only one bore me in her womb, and my siblings and half-siblings are all the same to me.

Mayhaps his family was lucky that way. Elia and Lyanna were quite affectionate to each other, a sentiment likely not close to reciprocated by Alicent and Rhaenyra - relative to their different relationships, of course.

At that point the door was thrown open and his solitude destroyed by Visenya. The latter leaping onto the bed as par her rambunctious nature. "Did you see it, Daemon!" she squealed, only to laugh. "Of course not, book-nose."

"My nose is not always in a book, Vis," he rolled his eyes. They had squabbled about this before. "I'm a better swordsman than you."

"Yet I am better with a dagger and a horse," she shot back, grinning. "But you missed it, brother. You missed it."

"Missed what?" He knotted his brows. "Wait, was that all the roaring? I thought Valyrax was squabbling with Saephyra again."

"Oh, Valyrax was doing it, but Baelon did the most stupendous thing!" She was rocking on her knees, grinning like a fool. Looking a lot like Queen Lyanna, their muna, even with her distinctive Valyrian features. "He leapt off Valyrax mid-air."

This truly drew him out of his book, Daemon's eyes wide. "What?! He leapt off Valyrax while flying?!" From her excitement he gathered that Baelon had lived to tell the tale. "Gods, that was brazen."

"More like brave. Baelon the Brave come again!" She squealed. "He's like the Rogue Prince, only he lived."

"Wasn't fighting another dragonrider at the time so the comparison is likely not proper." He shrugged though. "Good for him, I guess, though kepa and munas are probably very peeved at him."

Visenya giggled. "Dany and Sansa beat him up, and I think Rhaenys was scared out of her wits."

"I would be too if I saw that."

"Aye, but it was so glorious when he caught Valyrax's spines again." Sighing, she plopped down beside Daemon on the other side of the bed. Different as their personalities were, the two were practically triplets - including Rickon in their trio - given their near simultaneous births, so they were close. Not as close as Dany and Jon and Sansa, but Daemon was convinced those three shared a brain. "But this means we're gonna have to up our game."

He furrowed his brows. "Excuse me?"

"Our elder siblings have all done great things… and our kepa, munas, and grandmother before them. We need our own great thing to match Dany hatching the dragons, Rhaenys' martial glory, Alyssa's early dragonriding, and Baelon's… well, his everything."

"Vis, just relax. You need not make this a competition."

She gaped at him. "What kind of dragon are you? Come on, you have that Martell blood in you. They burn hot."

"I'm content burning cool, Vis."

A knock at the door, Rickon called through it. "Can I come in? I brought Joanna."

Visenya beamed. "Lucky for you I have Rickon to help me."

Daemon's blood turned cold. "Um… Vis… what have you planned."

Her grin grew wider, "You'll soon see." In this, her mischief was all Targaryen - Dany had the same grin. Considering all Dany had talked Baelon into doing, Daemon didn't have good thoughts about what was coming when she let in their brother, pulling their cousin in tow.

Joanna looked like a Lannister version of their uncle Viserys… though not malicious and leaning more on the arrogance common to her mother's house. "What is it?" she asked with a huff. "Lady Malera is not going to be happy if I miss my embroidery lessons."

Visenya groaned. "How anyone can find those interesting is beyond me."

"Well, if you wanted a man in woman's clothing then get Arya."

"She's too young and you know it," Rickon shot back. Perfectly Stark in coloring, the dash of Targaryen in him only enhanced the wolfish zeal in Daemon's brother. Potent mixes, dragons, wolves, and vipers. "You're the only one we can depend on for this."

Looking at each of them with confusion - in fairness to her, Daemon was confused as well - Joanna threw up a haughty look. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"She wouldn't tell me either, cousin," Daemon shrugged. "But something of showing up Baelon."

"Hmmph, what gives him the right to take that fish dragonriding with him?"

Her insults at Rickard were ignored, given that they all liked their other cousin. "Regardless, we need your help since the key to getting into the histories at such a young age for our own achievements is within Winterfell at this very moment."

Parsing through Visenya's statement, suddenly Daemon's eyes widened in understanding. "No, sister, just… no. Not the crypts…"

Grinning, Visenya nodded. "Aye, the crypts."

"But Vermax laying eggs there was just a legend."

"And how do you know that, brother?" asked Rickon. "Did you ever go in the crypts?"

"No, because I don't intend on getting lost and starving to death down there!"

"Wait, hold up." Joanna still looked confused. "What's Vermax and what about eggs in the crypt?"

Visenya snickered. "You don't know the story?"

"No, I don't know the story!"

"Daemon, care to do the honors?"

The resident bookworm of the bunch, he shrugged but nodded. "During the Dance, Prince Jaecarys Velaryon flew his dragon Vermax to Winterfell, where he made the Pact of Ice and Fire with Cregan Stark. While there, he married Cregan's bastard sister Sarra Snow… it is speculated by some historians that Vermax laid eggs in a hot spring deep inside Winterfell's crypt, but no search party has discovered it."

"That's cause no Targaryen with dragonblood looked for it." Visenya clapped her hands. "Until us."

"And what do you want me to do? I cannot ride a dragon."

"No, but you know the crypts, don't you?" Joanna nodded - Ned made a point of making his children familiar with the resting place of their ancestors. "So you'll be our guide."

Daemon held up his hands. "You can't be serious. I'm not doing it."

Visenya's eyes darkened. "Then I'm sure kepa and uncle Aemon would like to know who caused the fire in the library annex two moons ago."

Narrowing his eyes, Daemon's look could've killed. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

Deep down, Daemon knew she would. Visenya always knew how to get her way… and when not to push her luck. "Fine, but we're taking Spirit with us."

Joanna laughed. "Aunt Lya will never let him out of her sight, especially now that Sprinter is gonna whelp any moment now. We'll take Lann."

A lion in the direwolf's crypt… Hopefully the old gods wouldn't strike them down. "Fine." With one word, Visenya was back to all smiles and kissed his cheek. "The things I do for you."

"You love us and you know it."

"This had to be a mistake," Lyanna offered, pacing. "Jon wouldn't risk himself in such a manner."

"Lya, he did." Elia clasped her hands in hers. "My love, he is the best boy, but can't you see that Baelon's confidence could turn into arrogance if left unchecked."

"No, he's a good boy. Just like his father."

Rhaegar sighed, seated next to his mother with his legs spread and hands pressed together in front of him. "Being like me is a double-edged sword. I had my kepa's behavior to… give me pause in my more draconic personality traits. Had I not learned the importance of humility early… I likely would've gone about such experimenting upon dragonback just as Baelon did."

Lyanna scowled at him. "Are you saying our son suffered because he didn't have a childhood from the seven hells. That we erred in giving him so much love?"

"Not in the slightest, but he needs not the hells that we went through in order to learn what he needs to do - that is why I think we should follow Arthur's plan rather than anything more drastic."

"But it's very drastic." Lyanna, shaking, was drawn into a gentle kiss by Elia, which calmed her. Letting Elia hug her, she shifted her gaze to Dowager Queen Rhaella. "Goodmother, what do you think?"

Compared to the meek, fragile Rhaella that she had met when first marrying Rhaegar, the Dowager Queen now had transformed. Not once had anyone seen her in any outfit other than the colors of house Targaryen for years, as tall, proud, and fierce as the great dragonriders of the past. Fire and Blood made flesh, the one who fought to develop and create a new Valyrian tradition. The leader of the hardline faction among the Small Council, and her opinion… "All of you are ridiculous."

Elia groaned. "Goodmother…"

"No… by Tessarion you're trying to condemn Baelon for being a dragon… or a wolf." She shook her head. "Nevertheless, I think he should go with Arthur."

"You do?" Rhaegar asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. My kepa did it, and I used to be entranced by his stories. A dragon should know his people and learn how to act with nothing but his nature rather than with a crown or authority. Jon would benefit by this, I promise - just don't squash him or his fire."

"Believe me, that is the last thing I wish to do," spoke Elia. "We should talk to him now… I think he's been waiting outside for a few minutes."

Lyanna sighed, taking her seat. "Alright, send him in." Her heart clenched as she saw his handsome, innocent face - a perfect mix of herself and Rhaegar, the best of them both. "My son."

He stood in the center of the solar, loaned to them by Ned for this purpose. "Hi, muna, kepa, muna, grandmother." Baelon seemed awkward. "Look, I'm sorry for scaring everyone, but I wanted to show off a skill I'd been practicing."

Elia was shocked. "This wasn't an accident?"

"No, I've been practicing this for moons. Muna always read the story of how Daemon Targaryen fought Aemond One-Eye… and I thought that if I trained then I could pull off surviving a move like that."

I can't believe this. "Please, just explain it from the beginning," insisted Rhaegar.

The next half-hour was spent with Jon explaining everything, and by the end Lyanna could feel her heart beating out of her chest. "Baelon… how… did you not once think that you could fail? That you could die?"

"Muna, you didn't think the Black Dread Reborn would fail the Conqueror Reborn?"

Lyanna stared at her son, noting the total lack of fear… or even caution on his face. "Is that what you see yourself as, my son? As Aegon the Conqueror come again, unable to be hurt?"

He blinked. "Well… anyone can be hurt, muna, but I'm skilled. I won't as long as I never slack at my skills… which I would never do. You can be assured that I will never fail as Crown Prince and as King."

So earnest, so confident. Lyanna wanted to sweep him in her arms, pepper him with kisses, and praise him to the skies. Validate everything that Jon was saying as the continuation of Rhaegar. Of the greatest among them all… but then she remembered him falling. Truthfully, Baelon was likely right - he had planned this and trained and was always going to survive. But he'll only push further… and further… in a life of only excellence then any task will seem surmountable, even those that aren't. Jon had never endured the same struggles as she, as Rhaegar, as Elia.

It would destroy him, or lead to someone that the world would tear apart.

Without even looking at her spouses, Lyanna made the decision both of them already had. "Excuse me, my son." She rose, dropping a kiss upon his dark hair, and opened the door to the solar. "Ser Arthur, can you come in?"

Jon seemed confused, while as Lyanna returned to her seat both Rhaegar and Elia were staring at her in shock. She gave them a wary smile. Aye, I've been convinced. The surprise didn't last long, with Rhaegar sighing and Elia returning with a nod. No words needed to be said, the King and Queens were united as one.

For Rhaella, she seemed a bit… eager.

Ser Arthur entered, shutting the door behind him and standing next to Jon with his hands behind his back. "Your Graces. You summoned me, Queen Lyanna?"

"Aye, I have." Lyanna cleared her throat. "Jon, you know the story of Aegon the Unlikely?"

"Grandmother's father, of course."

Lyanna laughed. "Apologies, I should not bet against you in knowing about the history of our House." She folded her hands together. "Your kepa, muna, and I have decided that you will tour the realm just as he did."

Jon blinked. "What do you mean?"

Looking at Rhaella, Lyanna found her goodmother speaking now. "What she means is, Baelon, you will continue as Ser Arthur's squire… but without your title."

Thinking, suddenly Jon's eyes widened. "You mean like Dunk and Egg?" An excited expression glinted on his face. "Really?"

"Are you alright with this, sweetling?" asked Elia.

"Of course!" He beamed giddily. "Grandmother always told me stories of her kepa's adventures!" Rhaella laughed merrily at that, only for it to fall as Jon suddenly looked… odd. "But, I'll miss all of you."

"Do not worry, your Grace," Arthur interjected, seeing both Queens grow misty-eyed while Rhaegar seemed… to withdraw back into his brooding. "Think of it as an… unorthodox fostering, just with I rather than in Winterfell with your muna's family."

He nodded at that. "Alright." It seemed like an honor to him. "So, when are we going?"

Unable to resist, Lyanna was out of her seat and hugging him close. Thankful he wasn't upset at this. "Not for now." She kissed his forehead. "Allow a mother some time to enjoy you first."

"Muna…" Jon's flushed face only grew worse as Elia joined as well… and then Rhaella too. "Kepa, help me." This was honestly worse than when Dany and Sansa jumped him.

Wiping an errant tear from his eye, Rhaegar grinned softly. "Can't help you there, son. Your munas and mine would strike me down if I tried." Sure, there was a lot of logistics that needed to be planned out that would be addressed either here and now or in the coming weeks, but Jon was accepting of it. This couldn't have gone any better.

After about twenty minutes or so of banging against the door to try and get Ser Jaime to release them… and failing spectacularly, Daenerys groaned, crossed her arms, and plopped in one of the plush chairs Sansa sported in her chambers… which was naturally shared by Dany and Jon upon their insistence. "That… that… idiot!" Still only two and ten, using greater profanity felt strange. "He could've killed himself!"

"I just don't think he realizes how risky it is." Sansa shook her head, sitting next to Dany and wrapping her arms round her neck. Feeling her tension ease. "Growing up in the Red Keep… it's a pretty easy way of living, specially with a dragon to protect you. Doesn't know how the cold and elements could easily kill you."

Daenerys looked up at Sansa, already taller than her. "You've seen someone die?"

Sansa nodded, sighing. "Many, they go out into the cold and come back barely alive. Luwin takes care of them as best he can, but even with his tending to most don't make it."

Gulping, Dany's eyes closed. "I still have nightmares, to when the Ironborn attacked the keep." Sansa shuddered at the thought. "They didn't let me see Ser Lewyn's body, but from how Elia mourned afterwards his wound had to be fatal."

"At least you didn't see his corpse." They hugged tightly. "Jon will learn restraint… I hope."

"He's the Conqueror Reborn, I highly doubt it. Every day his ego grows."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Without restraint, it will be. He wants to be the Rogue Prince, but Daemon Targaryen's personality led him into a lot of bad things… Sansa?" Dany quirked her head at Sansa. "Sans!" Suddenly, Sansa's eyes had glazed over - not in the same manner as simply zoning out, but with white shrouding her grey orbs. Feeling her heart pound within her chest in horror for the second time that day, she shook Sansa hard. Nothing. Again, still nothing. "Sans!"

Finally, her redheaded best friend emerged back into the realm of consciousness. Eyes blinking, she shook her head. "Wha…"

"Sansa!" Dany hugged her close, pressing kisses against her cheek. "Thank the gods."

But she wasn't concentrating. "We need to go see Jon."

"See Jon… but…"

"He's gonna be with their Graces, come on."

Daenerys seemed in a whirlwind, especially when Sansa dragged her off the chair. "Ser Jaime is at the door."

But that wasn't where Sansa was headed. "I know a way around that." Reaching a stretch of the wall, she pressed one of the stones which ended up in a small stretch giving way… revealing a crawlspace in the wall. "Found it with Robb a while back, probably a way for the early Starks to escape the Boltons if those asses came back, which they did."

"Good on them." Watching Sansa crawl inside, she blinked herself. Unable to notice how quite… slim that Sansa was in her dress. She looked very nice…

"Dany, come on."

Just like that, she was out of her daze. "Right, coming." Mere moments later, when the first jutting stone poked at her back, Daenerys was quite miffed at herself for agreeing to this. Several more stones and a few wooden boards only added to that feeling, but follow Sansa she still did. "So you've been all over Winterfell?"

"Yep," Sansa called back. "I hate getting my clothes dirty, but sometimes you just gotta know."

"I feel the same about riding dragons." Sansa's crazed eyes came back to her mind. "What was that, back there?"

"What?"

"The… eyes…"

Stilling in a particularly wide space, Sansa turned. "Oh… I've… been having some of those lately. Not often, but… I see things."

Dany reached out to take Sansa's hand. "What things?"

"Memories mostly, but vivid memories. Stuff I don't normally remember well… I saw papa when he was young, and mama… and my birth mother too. I barely remember her but there she was, young and happy."

Her eyes widened in understanding. "I've read about this. I think it could be greensight."

"Greensight?"

Before Dany could explain, they heard words in the distance. Mission coming back to mind, they rushed quietly - not hard, since they were both young girls - to where the stones allowed them to peek down through the boards of the ceiling into the Lord's solar. Sure enough, there was Jon and the three royals… four rather. "Dany, look." Sansa gestured to another standing figure.

"Muna's there," Dany murmured. Just like Sansa said. They settled in and listened to the entire conversation.

A conversation that left them angrier than they had been while Jon was scaring them with his little stunt with Valyrax. With enough sense to slink away without making a noise, it wasn't until the stone was back in place in their chambers for Dany to shriek. "No!"

Sansa was in no better shape. "Those… how could they? How could they send him off to the wilds as a common smallfolk!"

"And did you see my muna?!" Dany felt betrayed. "She wants him to go! To fend for himself without us to protect him! He could die, or worse! No, no, no!"

"It can't happen… I can't let it…" Suddenly a thought came to Sansa. Perking up her inner wolf. Could we… no, impossible… unless…

Dany pounded her fists. "I'm putting a stop to this. Muna wants this, but she'll listen to me! She'll always listen to me…" But she was stopped by Sansa's hand taking her wrists.

"No, the adults all likely agree with this. They're gonna send Jon away and he'll be without anyone… unless…"

"Unless what?" She studied Sansa's face before it came to her. "Truly?"

"Aye. Bold and… stupid itself, but the only way."

"Sneak off with them?" Soon, both girls were grinning at each other. "I'm in!"

A/N: Well, while Jon likes this, Dany and Sansa don't. And the girls pack a hell of a punch.

Melisandre has some secrets.

The younger Targlings are planning something.

Wish me good fortune as I get through medical school, and be sure to check out "A Dragon's Daughter."