A/N: quick refresher: the Greyjoy Rebellion canonically takes place about 289 AC, with Myrcella being born in 290. Jon Snow is listed as being born in 283, so even with the Greyjoy Rebellion being moved up by two years, that puts Myrcella's birth year as 288 in this AU, leaving a five-year gap between the two. Expect a couple of time skips until we get closer to canon events – moved to around 300 AC – and no real romantic moments until Myrcella is 13 at the earliest (plenty of friendship moments, though).
Chapter Three: Jon II
Jon could have jumped for joy when they finally set their sights on King's Landing. The capital was a marvel, the Red Keep sitting atop Aegon's Hill, looming over the city like a giant spider. Such magnificence was undercut by the smell that emanated from beyond the city's walls, and permeated everything in and around it. Ser Barristan laughed when he mentioned it. Evidently this was a common reaction for most when visiting the capital for the first time, and for some, many times after. It was inevitable when you had so many people packed together, and the warmth of summer in the south did no one any favors on that count.
When Aegon the Conqueror had first declared the site to be the new seat of power in the land, it had also seen many rush to stake a claim in the new city, and despite the new monarch's efforts, the growth had rapidly outpaced his predictions, leading to ineffective sewers as just the most obvious of problems. Subsequent monarchs did little to alleviate this issue, even with the best of efforts. Few of the builders, architects, and engineers were quick to return after Maegor the Cruel's death, making for much of the city to be labyrinthian and dense when not following the main thoroughfares to the Red Keep itself.
The the towers and walls of pale red stone that rose so high that Jon had to lean back to see the tops when standing in the courtyard. While Winterfell covered more lands, the Red Keep stretched high, and likely deep as the stories of Maegor's revisions of the castle went.
Luckily, Jon didn't merit a relevant inclusion in the ceremonies of the King Robert's return to the Red Keep, so he was spared any embarrassment that would have come the King's exuberance being directed towards him again, standing firmly with Hammond.
Jon Arryn officially welcomed the King, signaling the return of the court to the Red Keep, and not a moment too soon, though Jon Snow was not going to give voice to this in the presence of Royalty. He had no intentions of shaming his family or embarrassing himself on his first day in King's Landing.
Dismissed, the entourage dispersed and went to wash up for the feast that had been prepared. Ser Barristan led his squires to White Sword Tower. Jon wouldn't be housed in the quarters of the Kingsguard, as there simply wasn't enough room in the slender tower. Instead, he and the other squires kept themselves in the quarters just off from the base.
"For rest of today, you are free from any tasks" said Hammond, "See to it that you are well rested tonight, but other than that, you will be in the company of Ser Barristan's other squire." Passing through a pair of double doors, the path opened into a long hall that also served as a common room, bulging out with doors leading to seven different rooms. "Here we are. Squires come and go, but these quarters remain much the same after all these years."
The room Hammond showed Jon to was slightly larger than his own quarters in Winterfell, though it was arranged to keep four grown men in relative comfort, and a window across from the door looked out to the Blackwater.
"I can't look into your soul to divine your thoughts, so feel free to speak up. About your duties or King's Landing in general."
Jon thought for a moment and asked, "You said Ser Barristan has another squire?"
"Qarlton Bar Emmon. A boy about six years your senior." Hammond explained. "Lord Arryn had some tasks to see to in the King's absence, and he volunteered to stay behind with Ser Barristan's permission. He's the one currently attending to the Lord Commander. Now get yourself cleaned up. I'm sure the King has some grand feast planned for his return. We can talk more after other preparations have been made."
"They're one of the Narrow Seas houses, right? One with ties to the Valyrian Freehold"
"Bar Emmon is an Andal House," another voice chimed in. "Though, we were close to House Targaryen through the years."
A young man with silver-blond hair stepped into the room, dark eyes sweeping across to settle on Jon.
"I was told Ser Barristan had picked up a squire," he said. "Have you misplaced him?"
Hammond rested a hand on the newest squire's shoulder, saving him from bristling at the insult. "Jon Snow, this is Qarlton Bar Emmon, who is often referred to as Breeze. Breeze, this is Jon Snow"
"Don't ask about the nickname," said the other squire, then turned to Hammond. "So this is Jon Snow. Lord Eddard Stark's bastard, yes? You don't look like much."
"Neither did you when you first arrived," Hammond cut in. "Now come along. I believe you can aid in Jon's education, having remained in King's Landing for all of this time."
"I suppose I can. Did you ever serve as a page, Little Jon?"
"No. And I'm not little."
"You're shorter than I am," Qarl tussled Jon's hair to make his point. "That makes you little." He snickered as Jon squirmed away. "Luckily for you, we'll be sitting at the sides of any seating arrangements. That's the best place to see most of what's happening without having to sit at the high table, and I'll see how well you understand your new duties. Ham, did anything of note happen in on your journeys?"
"Baldric set himself on fire," Hammond answered.
Again?" Breeze laughed, turning to Jon again. "Here's a lesson for you, Little Jon: learn who works for whom in the Red Keep. If another squire comes over and makes demands of you, if you know who their master is, you can know whether or not they can be ignored."
Breeze stopped, letting a servant pass through the corridor ahead of them.
"As I was saying, Baldric is one of Ser Boros Blount's squires. A clever little man, but not nearly as clever as he thinks, and that has gotten him, and the rest of us, into spots of trouble. So. As a squire of the Lord Commander, he's not someone you can quite ignore, but not someone who can rightly commandeer you without Ser Barristan's leave."
"Does that happen often?"
"Attempted? Quite often. While there may be times you will be asked to assist others, take care to not be run ragged around the castle on pointless or frivolous errands."
An old man with a falcon for his sigil emerged from a side passage, accompanied by guards. He had a kindly smile that softened the lines on his face, which eased further when the settled on Jon.
"Lord Hand," Hammond greeted. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Qarlton, Hammond," Lord Arryn answered in kind, inclining his head. "And this must be the lad I've been hearing about. Welcome to King's Landing, Jon Snow. I thought I saw you in the courtyard, and I must say, you look quite a bit like your father when he first arrived in the Vale."
"Thank you, Lord Arryn," Jon answered, offering a slight bow.
"I see Ned raised a thoughtful lad. I take it that you are headed to the feast."
"Yes, my lord," Hammond replied. "Ser Barristan felt it prudent to acclimate Jon to the needs of his new position, and this way he will be able to grow familiar with the names and faces of the court from a distance."
"Then I shall see you again there." His eyes once more fell on Jon, as he said, "Take these lessons to heart, Jon Snow. I look forward to what you may achieve."
[TSS]
Sitting at the far edge of the hall was not that different from doing the same in Winterfell, and the Red Keep was proving by similar reasons, something that Hammond and Breeze agreed with. Easier to slip away, either when called or just to escape the festivities when everyone else was distracted.
Of course, the food was richer and of greater variety. Stronger scents that couldn't be attributed to the city, the sea, or the many perfumed courtiers packed into the hall. The fresh fruit in particular had Jon's attention, as most fruits in the North were made into preserves or used for things such as lemon cakes. But even without Hammond's advice, Jon was not inclined to overindulge.
Which brought Jon to the main difference. Breeze had taken it upon himself to drill Jon on everything he had missed by not being a page. The lack of a court held in the manner of the south was no excuse, and after having every single person of note, from the King to the merchants to important servants, he pressed Jon to recite what he had learned.
"King Robert Baratheon, First of his Name. King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Protector of the Realm.""
"Simple enough," the older squire said with a slight nod. "And next to him?"
"Queen Cersei, daughter of Tywin Lannister."
"And the rest of the royal family?"
Jon moved his eyes down the seating of the high table, where the Queen was stroking her oldest son's hair. "Crown Prince Joffery."
The boy looked like he was struggling with the noise of the hall, so maybe there was something to the Queen's attentions to the boy. Next to him, the Princess sat perfectly still, but when she saw Jon looking her way, she smiled and gave a slight wave before her mother told her to stop.
"Princess Myrcella."
"And the last one?"
"Prince Tommen. And he is still in the nursery."
"Good. Now for the rest of the Small Council."
The Hand of the King was more solemn and dignified than he had introduced himself. "Lord Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, and foster father to the same, as well as Lord Stark."
Next to him was a woman shared her coloring with Lady Stark, but more delicate, fragile. "Lady Lysa Tully-"
"Arryn." Breeze interjected. "She's married to the Hand of the King."
Nodding gentle correction, Jon's attentions shifted. "Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships and Lord of Dragonstone. He's married to Lady Selyse of House Florent. As she isn't present, she is back at Dragonstone with Lady Shireen."
A young man that looked like a younger, slighter version of the King wearing vibrant green and gold. "Lord Renly Baratheon, King Robert's youngest brother, and Lord of Storm's End. He officially assumed his Lordship this year, but Cornay Penrose still serves as the Castellan."
A knight whose sigil was a ship with an onion emblazoned upon its sail. "Ser Davos Seaworth. Lord of Cape Wrath. A former smuggler who was pardoned by Lord Stannis for his aid during the siege of Storm's End, and raised to knighthood."
A short, slight man of sharp features and finely cut robes of sat talking. "Lord Petyr Baelish, sometimes called Littlefinger. Named to the Small Council last year as Master of Coin."
An old man with a great, bushy beard, a great, bejeweled chain draped around his neck who was conversing with the Queen. "Grand Maester Pycelle. He and the Master of Whispers, Lord Varys, are the only remaining members of the Mad King's Small Council."
"You'll see Lord Varys around at some point. I should keep you going, but as it's growing late, and I cannot pour a gallon of wine into a cup, I'll let you stop here. Though if you have more specific questions, ask away. Just mind that the gossip might get around."
Jon lowered his voice and did just that. "Why did King Robert give Dragonstone to Lord Stannis?"
"Traditionally, Dragonstone was the seat of the Crown Prince," Breeze answered, lowering his own voice in turn. "Until Prince Joffery was born, Stannis was his heir, so it arguably was a sign of acknowledgment. Though it may have just been a punishment for failing to detain Queen Rhaella's children. Quite a few Loyalists were furious with the notion, not to mention Stannis himself. Now, for the rest." He looked at Jon again. "You look like you have something on your mind. If you want to ask, ask. Everyone usually does."
"Are you Targaryen?" Jon asked.
Breeze shook his head with a slight laugh. "No. I believe our gracious king did a thorough job scouring the Seven Kingdoms of any Targaryen. He doesn't care too much for anyone with the blood of the Dragon, never mind that he himself has a Targaryen grandmother. Though I would say that's why he doesn't pay too much attention to a dragonseed like myself."
"Like Nettles or Addam Velaryon?"
"Oh, Mercer is going to enjoy having you in his school room. I can tell." When Jon continued staring for elaboration, Breeze added, "Don't worry overmuch. Ser Barristan will introduce you tomorrow."
[TSS]
Rather than be led to the yards bright and early, Ser Barristan had come to fetch Jon and was leading him through the Red Keep. Breeze's words from the night before gave him an idea where he was being taken. Early as it was, there were still servants already going about their work. Their walk came to a door and Ser Barristan knocked on it three times before opening it and ushering Jon inside.
Walking into a library with a long table running through the middle and a handful of desks bracketed against the walls between bookshelves. A tall window that let light pour in, making it easy to spot the tall, lean man in gray robes and shoulder-length reddish-brown hair with a chain of a Maester draped around his neck. Silver, steel, black iron, gold of yellow and red, platinum, electrum, two copper, and a link of Valyrian Steel. A surprisingly extensive chain for a man who looked younger than Jon's father.
The Maester looked up from a pile of books he had drawn from the shelves, smiled and said, "Ah, Ser Barristan. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Mercer, this is Jon, my newest squire. Jon, this is Maester Mercer. He handles the education of many of the ranking servants, squires…everyone who doesn't rate the Grand Maester's attention, but still hold positions where knowing sums and letters is prudent to carrying out their duties."
"I do my best, Ser Barristan. Now, let me have a look at you." Mercer dusted his hands off and grabbed Jon by the shoulders, looking him over. "You certainly looks of a Dayne and a Stark. That shade of your eyes is rather intriguing, if I do say."
Jon brightened, "Did you have a chance to meet them?"
"No, but both of them have portraits put into books on genealogies. Grand Maester Malleon's work, if you happen to be interested. Something I spent a great deal of time studying once upon a time, but that is neither here nor there."
"I leave him in your most capable hands, then. And Jon, I'll send Hammond fetch you when I'm available to teach you in the yard."
The Lord Commander stepped out of the room, and Mercer produced a sheaf of parchment and slid a sheet to Jon.
"Now. Shall we begin?"
A/N: This chapter was annoying to write, though I think it came out well enough at the end. The main things I wanted to cover was the initial introduction to King's Landing, Jon Arryn, and a glimpse at life in the Red Keep, including the remainder of the OCs that are going to be of note or merit.
Breeze is another character I threw together for the purposes of the story, primarily so Jon would have someone a little closer in age to work with, at least until Samwell has a chance to come into the picture. Which will happen, though that will be a few in-universe years down the line.
And then there's Maester Mercer, who was originally put in for the purposes described above. And because if Jon's going to make a climb to the throne, I want him to have people there to watch and help him to it, and chronicle it for posterity.
I'm looking things over on my notes, but I think we'll be skipping ahead in time a little for the next chapter.
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Even if it's to tell me I'm modernizing their verbiage too much (I probably am), let me know in a PM or review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Until next time!
Winterman, out.