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Part 2 of The War of Ice and Fire
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2016-06-26
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2023-03-02
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25/?
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A Song of Ice and Fire

Summary:

When you play the Game of Thrones.
You win or you die.
There is no middle ground.
As the south continue to play the game; enemies of the crown are forging secret alliances, planning future battles and threatening to break the peace of the reign of King Rhaegar Targaryen while the North and the Wall faces an ancient threat.
The armies of the dead from the North of the Wall are coming, taking and killing everything on it's path.
At night only the wolf howls.
A howl of warning.
Warning that 'Winter is Coming'

Notes:

This story is the continuation of "The Dragon Prince and the Wolf Maiden". If you want to understand some of the plots or the motivation that drives the characters of this au then please read the part one of this story but if you don't want then it's fine. I'll be updating this story every monday, pacific time.

Chapter 1: Griff I

Chapter Text

Flea Bottom is stinking with shit, dirt and mud as Griff wakes up from his bed. He can smell it from the window of the second floor of the inn he's staying called the Whore's Son. He got up on his modest bed, and turned to look at himself in the broken mirror hanging opposite his bed that's made of straw and bamboo.

Fifteen years old and standing taller than anyone else his age, he is naked as his name day as he look at himself in the mirror, Griff dyes his shoulder length hair with blue color but the hair below his waist suggest that his hair is silver and he can see that his purple eyes has a dangerous glint on it.

'This will soon be over,' he said as he dress himself with a simple white sleeves shirt, with belted breeches the color of mud, a worn out boots and putting on a yellow coat. He also tucked in a hidden dagger on his waist. He knows that he lives with dangers lurking on every side and if it comes to him, he will be ready to slash and cut, and possibly kill.

He made his way to the door of his room, locking it and walking down to the narrow corridor where occupants of the inn are giving him a strange look. They will never try to bother him, the inn keeper have given a firm order not to fuck with him and when he reach the main hall, the old inn keeper nodded at him in which he returned it with a small smile.

The Whore's Son is located at the mouth of Flea Bottom so Griff was quick to find his way to the Street of Sisters, it was not crowded as of yet and it led him directly to the Guildhall of the Alchemists, then turning to a corner to find his way towards the Muddy Way and there the brothel where he is working at is located.

He went inside and even in the morning hour, the patrons of the brothel are never absent and all around him, Griff can hear the music of moans and grunts and cries of both woman and man. Hanging on the walls of the narrow corridor entrance that will lead him to the main hall are the tapestries of whores with porcelain skin on the left, another one has an ebony skin on the right, pleasing men with a blurry face and when he arrived at the main hall, he saw Lord Baelish, the owner of the establishment talking to a prostitute.

Petyr Baelish also called Littlefinger is the head of the insignificant House Baelish of the Fingers. He serves as the Master of Coin to King Rhaegar Targaryen since being endorsed by Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale five years ago to the council because of his excellent work as in charge of customs of Gulltown.

As Griff approach him, he saw that he is wearing a bright green cloak, revealing nothing underneath but his exposed hands, neck and head. He is a short man of slender stature and has a sharp features, a small pointed beard on his chin and dark hair with threads of grey running through it.

When Lord Baelish saw him coming, he smiled but Griff noted that his eyes didn't.

"Griff," he said, his gray-grey eyes seems always be cunning and dangerous, "you're early today."

"I was, m'lord," he answered, trying himself to smile.

"Do you care to join me in breaking fast?" asked the Master of Coin and Griff reluctantly nodded his head.

Lord Baelish whispered something on the prostitute he's talking to and after that, he led the way to his room on a circular stair beside the door of the main hall that will lead to one of the many pleasure rooms.

Upon arriving at the second floor, they made their way to a candle lighted hallway and at the end of the corridor, Lord Baelish opened the door of his room.

It was the biggest room in the brothel, a bed with a canopy is in the middle, opposite the balcony that overlooks the street below and Griff can already see the rays of a morning sun from the east. At the one corner is the mahogany table with three stools around it and on the table, Griff can see a bowl of fruits and a glass of wine.

"What will you have, Griff?" asked Lord Baelish.

"I'm going to have whatever you will have, m'lord," he replied and Littlefinger gave the slightest hint of smile.

"Well then," he said with a nod, "Ros! Come here!"

Seconds later, a young red head girl with a freckled face entered the room; she has a slender body and wearing a see through fabric.

"My lord?" she asked, she side glance at Griff, and smiled.

"Give us bacons, sausages, boiled eggs and a good arbor wine to wash it down," said Lord Baelish, "and tell the guards that no one shall disturb us."

Ros gave a meek nod and left, closing the door behind her while Lord Baelish offered Griff a seat.

"Some of my clients are asking for your price," said Lord Baelish, taking the seat opposite to him.

"Are they?" Griff replied with a hint of pride, "who are these clients and how much is my cost?"

Littlefinger strokes his pointed beard before responding to him.

"The cost is high and tempting," he answered with a nod, "and the clients are noble lords and ladies who wish to see you private if you agree," then he raised his eyesbrows, "one of them is a Stokeworth, fortunately for you, it's the first daughter of the lady of the house."

Griff thought about it for a second.

The Stokeworth's are regular visitors of the Red Keep and has influence and power, he said to himself.

"When will it be?" Griff asked him.

Lord Baelish gave a satisfied smile.

"Once you're ready," he answered, "you need to train first."

"I don't need to," snub Griff, "I know how to do it."

At that Lord Baelish shook his head.

"I don't doubt that," he answered, "but you need to because it's expected of you," he paused, "you need to train and remember that you should ask questions carefully."

Griff stared at him for a moment, thinking about all the things he said.

"I will be careful," he nodded, "and you should too."

"Oh, I always am," answered Littlefinger smiling to himself, "last night I watched Prince Daeron playing with his cousins and close friends at the yard," he paused and Griff watched him intently, "the young prince is sweet, he let his cousin Arya Stark win on their little play," Littlefinger waited for him to say something but when he didn't, he continued, "I was with the queen when they are playing, and she told me that the King plans to marry Prince Daeron to Arya Stark."

"How about his oldest son?" asked Griff with nothing but contempt on his voice, "do they mention him?"

"The queen?" asked Lord Baelish with a frown, "Queen Lyanna is a loving mother to their children especially his dear son, the Crown Prince."

"I don't mean that Crown Prince with an ugly long face of Stark's," countered Griff disdainfully, "I mean Princess Elias son, Prince Aegon Targaryen."

Lord Petyr Baelish gave him a searching look, his lips almost smirking.

"Queen Lyanna didn't mention him at all but King Rhaegar," he paused, his satisfied smile creeping on his lips again, "King Rhaegar would often ask about Prince Aegon's well being in private," then he inquired his head, "do you know that on his son's eight name day, the King was supposedly see him in secret?"

Griff shook his head.

"Yes, it's true," said Littlefinger with a nod, "Lord Varys told me about it, Princess Elia and Prince Doran agreed to the letters sent by His Grace but it didn't fell through because Prince Oberyn was against it."

All of a sudden the door opened and Ros with a handsome young man entered, carrying a silver platter and on it, are their breakfast.

Ros gave Griff another quick glance before they left him with Lord Baelish for the second time.

"Let's eat," said Littlefinger and the two of them shared breakfast in silence until Lord Baelish himself break that silence, "Ros likes you," he commented after chewing and swallowing the bacon.

"I know," answered Griff, "is it true? That the Crown Prince is gone to the Reach?"

Lord Baelish nodded.

"He's off to visit Highgarden," he answered, "Lord Mace Tyrell has insisted the visit since the announcement of the betrothal between the Crown Prince and his daughter, the Lady Margaery, he is accompanied by his cousin Robb Stark, and a dozen more companions as well as Ser Arthur Dayne, the Lord Commander and Ser Myles Mooton are with him as well."

Griff has heard about these dozen companions as well. They are sons of lords who declared for King Rhaegar on his war with his father, King Aerys.

"How about King Rhaegar?"

"King Rhaegar is busy running the realm with his Hand, Lord Jon Connington," answered Lord Baelish simply, "they don't have an idea about the affairs of Dorne and even the Spider has no knowledge about it," he paused frowning, "strange," then he offered a cunning smile.

"When will they travel North?" asked Griff as he finished the food on his plate.

"Probably after the return of the Crown Prince from Highgarden," answered Littlefinger, his fingers tapping the table as he wipes his mouth clean with a white cloth, "only Queen Rhaella will remain on the Red Keep."

"Even Princess Daenerys will come with them?" asked Griff, surprised.

Lord Baelish nodded.

"Princess Daenerys will go with them, she seems to be fond with the Crown Prince," a playful grin formed on Littlefingers lips, "and if you can only see her walking through the festivities of the castle, she politely smiles and talks with respect but her eyes says otherwise," he paused, "she's been angered with the visit of the Crown Prince to Highgarden, poor girl."

Griff put the thought of the princess aside for now.

"How about Lady Sansa?" he asked him.

Lord Baelish frowned at him this time, but his eyes remained interested and curious.

"What of her?" he asked him, searching his face.

"Did Lord Stark already accept the betrothal with Joffrey Baratheon to his precious daughter?"

"I didn't hear any news about that," admitted Lord Baelish, "I only heard that Harrold Arryn and Willas Tyrell are vying for a betrothal to the Lady Sansa."

"Sansa Stark must be delivered in Stormlands," he muttered more to himself.

That ended their talk and Littlefinger excused himself after to attend the morning council meeting at the Red Keep but before leaving, he instructed Ros to stay inside his room with Griff.

"Teach him the ways," he told the prostitute before leaving to the Red Keep.

Ros remained standing at the door staring at him, minutes after the departure of Lord Baelish while Griff made his way near the entrance of the balcony; his eyes are set on the walls of the castle that can be seen above the Muddy way.

"M'lord?" asked Ros and Griff finally turned around to face her.

The girl has a certain beauty about her and Griff likes her freckled face and also her smile. As he walked towards her, the prostitute remained frozen on her feet.

"You're going to teach me?" he asked in which she nodded her head, "so what's the first thing to do?"

"Go in the bed, m'lord," she answered almost nervously.

He obliged and went for the bed as Ros made her way towards the edge.

"It's not your first, m'lord?" she asked as Griff made himself comfortable sitting upright in the middle of the bed.

He shook his head.

"Do you know how to pleasure a woman? The sweet spot inside us?" she asked as she removed her clothes, slowly and Griff's arousal arrived in his thickening manhood.

"I know," he answered as his labored breathing came and Ros now crawling towards him.

"Well I guess this will be so much easier then," she said now on top of him, she found his manhood already erect and she gave him a wink before unfastening his breeches and sucking down the length of his cock with expert tongue and mouth.

Griff closed his eyes as the warmth of her mouth enveloped him and soon after she stopped, making his eyes flutters open, looking at her with lust.

"You're eyes are purple, m'lord," she noticed, "it's just like King Rhaegar's and Prince Jonothor's."

He smirked at her.

"How did you know? Have they visited this brothel frequently?" he asked her.

"No," she shook her head, "when I was younger I would often visit the castle and see them in their expensive garbs, tunics and crowns and Queen Lyanna would often set out charities for the poor folk of the city and visit orphanage with Prince Jonothor."

It seems like the Stark Queen knows how to play these games as well, Griff said to himself.

"Why are you visiting the castle?" he asked her.

She is still on top of him and while they are talking, she's continually stroking his hard cock.

"I was named by Queen Lyanna, m'lord," she answered almost surprising him, "she promised my mother that everything I need shall be given to me so while growing up, we were given food every time our bellies are empty and coins when we need it the most."

"So why did you end up as a prostitute?" he asked her curiously.

She smiled at him

"It's because of Lord Baelish," she answered him, as she slowly long stroke his cock, "he is a man of persuasion, m'lord," she paused and Griff saw on her eyes that there's a hint of warning on it, "he always gets what he wants and he wants more."

That whole day and night, Ros practiced him to the arts of making love. She mostly edged him to a point that he begged her to let him cum and she did, his first was spent on his sweet little mouth, swallowing the sticky liquid like it was some delicious meat. It was nightfall when he woke up from the bed of the brothel to find Lord Baelish standing on the balcony and when he heard him stir, the Master of Coin turned to look at him.

"Tired?" he asked him.

"Yes," Griff's voice came out as a sigh, "any news?"

"The council talked about the visit of Prince Aegon to Storms End this morning," answered Lord Baelish, "and when I voiced out that an alliance is brewing between the regions of Dorne and Stormlands, Lord Mace Tyrell dismissed my warning, saying that House's Targaryen, Tully, Arryn, Tyrell and Stark are stronger than the rest of the remaining great houses, and he made note that Theon Greyjoy is a companion to the Prince, taking it as a sign that House Greyjoy is on their league."

"Did you tell them about Sansa Stark?" Griff asked him.

"Yes," he answered with a nod, "I told them that an alliance with House Baratheon will be beneficial to the realm and by urging Eddard Stark to betroth his daughter to Joffrey, but I saw the blank expression of the King," he paused for a moment, "after all, he was almost killed by Lord Robert in the last battle at the Riverlands and I also made note of the frequent visits of Lady Cersei, I told them that Cersei is still a Lannister and by betrothing her eldest son to Sansa, Lord Tywin's allegiance will be one of the prices," he smiled, "Grand Maester Pycelle favors my words, and some of them are seems to be convinced."

Griff nodded his head, thinking that the seeds that were planted must bear fruit soon.

"How about Prince Viserys return, is there any news of the ship carrying him? Dorne is eagerly waiting for him, especially Princess Arianne Martell," he said.

"I'm afraid there's no news about the fate of Prince Viserys on his voyage," answered Littlefinger, "but Varys said to the council that Prince Viserys ship didn't dock to any of the Free Cities except Pentos."

"Where could that fool Prince be?" Griff asked more to himself and at the back of his mind, someone said that Prince Viserys is probably dead.

"I trust you learned a thing or two with Ros?" he asked Griff changing the subject.

He stood up from the bed and puts on his clothes as if he's alone in the room, in the past, he grew up with male companions, and he didn't mind being alone with Lord Baelish and the Master of Coins seems not to mind either.

"I did," he answered putting on his coat, "she is good."

"I know," answered Littlefinger with that satisfied look of his, "I told Lady Stokeworth that you agreed," he paused, pouring wine on a cup and offering it to him, "I told her your private affair with her will be held after a fortnight."

Griff drinks on the cup, the wine taste sour on his tongue.

"We can set it tomorrow if she likes," he told him simply, "she's a slut anyway."

"Tomorrow?" asked Littlefinger stroking his beard and Griff thought that it's obscene, "it's too soon, maybe a week from now," then he sat on the stool, "I also told someone that you are open for business."

Ros is right, said Griff to himself as he studied the small slender man, Littlefinger is cunning and all business, Griff wonders how much money this man will get by bargaining him to his clients.

"You know well I am not up for business like one of your prostitutes," he told him with a danger on his eyes.

Lord Baelish smiled casually, as if he is hiding something.

"Oh but you will if you know who's our special client," he told him.

"Then who is this special client?" Griff asked him and this time, the Master of Coin smiled showing his full teeth.

"The lord Hand," he answered him, "Lord Jon Connington."

Chapter 2: Daeron I

Chapter Text

It was another beautiful day of playing in the yards of the Red Keep for Prince Daeron and his closest friends that includes his cousins Arya and Bran. They are all wearing riding clothes; a simple tunic and breeches and leather boots.

"Pull harder!" exclaimed Arya, her brown hair are now a tangle up behind her, "come on Daeron, Lyman and Devan, my brother is winning!"

They are playing tug of war and by the looks of it, his cousin Arya is telling the truth, they are closing in near the line while his cousin Brandon whom they call Bran, Monterys Velaryon, Maric Seaworth and Lyanna Mormont are pulling the rope on the other side with their hardest, moving fluidly, one step at a time.

"Good, good!" Bran is yelling out, in charge of the other group and when Prince Daeron's group crossed the line, they we're defeated soundly while the other children are jumping in joy for their victory.

"Bran's groups always win," said Lyman, glancing over at their friends with a shake of his head.

"Well... not at horse riding," smirked his cousin Arya.

That is true, within Prince Daeron's circle of friends, it's his cousin Arya who's best riding a horse. The horse master even compared her riding to that of his own mother, the queen even though he really didn't see Queen Lyanna riding with a horse.

"You ride like your aunt, m'lady," complimented the horse master that time they went riding and hawking on the Kingswood.

Prince Daeron saw his cousin Arya smiled then as they rode on and he felt something hot on his cheeks when he saw her grey eyes lit up into a shy smile.

"Daeron!" cried Arya waking him up from the memory.

"What?" asked the prince, trying to hide the same feeling on his cheeks as he stared at the face of his cousin.

"Ser Barristan is here," said Arya pointing her small little fingers on the knight that's now talking to Ser Willis Wode, his guard for today.

"What are we going to play next?" asked Lyman Darry.

"I like to play hide and seek," answered Devan excitedly as the other four children made their way towards them, "let's play hide and seek next!"

"You don't get what to decide," complained Lyanna Mormont, his northern accent flaring, "we're going to decide what to play next because we won."

Lyanna Mormont was named to honor his mother and when she was brought to the court the first time, she was a fierce little thing, crying and running around the throne room while being chased by her mother Lady Maege Mormont.

After just a few seconds Ser Barristan finally called for Prince Daeron.

"Prince Daeron," called the knight, who is standing near the entrance of the courtyard beside his Kingsguard brother.

"I'll be back," he told them, "and Lya is right Devan, they should decide what to play next," then he turned to look at his cousin Bran, who's auburn hair is as sweaty as his own, "you choose what to play next Bran, you deserve it," his cousin nodded at him then Prince Daeron finally run towards Ser Barristan, leaving his friends behind.

The knight is wearing the white armor of the Kingsguard, his cloak is fastened by the sigil of his house; three stalks of yellow wheat, on a brown field and his enameled scales have silver chasings and clasps while Ser Willis Wode is wearing the same white armor but his cloak is fastened by the badge of the Kingsguard, nothing special.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your play Your Highness," apologized the knight, half smiling at him, "but your mother would like to see you in her apartments."

Ser Barristan is taller than Ser Willis Wode and has blue eyes that look's sad while the other knight is younger and looks rugged and wields a spiked morning star.

"For what Ser?" he inquired the knight.

"I don't know Your Highness," answered Ser Barristan, "shall we go?"

Prince Daeron nodded and so the three of them left his friends on their play but before finally taking a turn to the corner, he stole one last glance at Lyanna Mormont, who's now laughing with his cousin Arya and he smiled to himself seeing them. They made their way around the courtyard and the gardens and finally to Maegors Holdfast, where the apartments of the royal family are located. Targaryen knights are guarding both the end of the bridge atop the moat that will lead to the inner castle and once inside keep, they easily found their way on the apartments of the queen. The Lannister knight, Ser Jaime was there when they arrived and he smiled at Daeron which the prince returned shyly. Ser Jaime Lannister opened the door and announced his arrival.

"Your Grace, Prince Daeron has arrived."

When Daeron finally entered the chamber, he saw that his mother is talking to her aunt, Princess Daenerys and he smiled at her.

"Aunt Daenerys," he said running towards the beautiful princess.

The Targaryen princess met him halfway and knelt down to kiss him on his forehead. She is wearing a white gown with long sleeves that's made of the softest silk and she smells like a sweet spring flower. The side of her hair is on a braid, framing her face.

"Your Grace," said his aunt while chuckling and turning to look at his mother, "how long has Daeron been playing outside?" she asked then she returned to look at him, her eyes seems to be happy today, Prince Daeron noticed that since the departure of his older brother Jon to Highgarden, Princess Daenerys eyes has since look sad, "you smell sweat nephew, you should take a bath."

"A bath!" frowned Prince Daeron, "but we haven't done playing yet and it's not even three."

This time his mother stood up from where she is sitting, making her way towards him with that smile plastered on her face that everybody says the same as Jon's.

Her mother is wearing a velvet gown with myrish lacings on the shoulders and around the waist. She let her hair fall behind her, and she is wearing the slender crown of winter roses atop her head. As her mother got closer and closer, Prince Daeron's gaze turned to her belly, and he can't see the supposed baby bump on it. He heard the news from the maids that are attending him last week that his mother is pregnant again.

The Queen knelt down in front of him, kissing the prince on both cheeks and on his lips and he giggled feeling the soft touch and caress of her mother.

"Oh Daeron, your aunt is right," said Queen Lyanna who stayed kneeling in front of him, then Queen Lyanna worked her experts hand to his sweaty silvery hair to make it into a bun, "have you been running again?"

Prince Daeron turned to look at the eyes of her mother, it was grey, the color of House Stark, the same color of his eyes.

"Yes mother," is his resigned reply then he saw a playful grin appeared on her lips and she side glance at his aunt Daenerys before returning to look at him.

"You will take a bath after you play all right?" she said in which he only nodded his head, then she stood up, taking his little hands on hers.

His mother led him to the gardens of her apartments. It was a small circular courtyard with the dirt and the bees floating and flying around while his aunt followed them.

"You know why we are going North right?" asked the queen as she picks up a flower, smelling it and then she looks down on him, waiting for him to speak.

"Yes mother," answered Daeron with a nod and he side glance to his aunt and he saw that she is encouraging him to speak more, "we're going to see Winterfell and to attend the wedding of your friend, Lord Domeric Bolton," he paused, "and oh... we're going to see the Wall."

"Actually Domeric is not a lord yet because Lord Roose Bolton is still alive," corrected her mother, "are you listening to your lessons with the Grand Maester? And who told you we're going to see the Wall? I never told you anything about going to the Wall."

"But Jon told me he's going to take me with him," he answered his mother, "and I am bored to my lessons with the Grand Maester, he talks so slow that Arya fell asleep on the table one time."

After he mentioned that, the queen and the princess laughs.

"I did too, Your Grace," admitted Princess Daenerys and this time, Daeron joined in on their laughter.

"Fell asleep? You and Arya?" said the queen to his aunt with the last of her giggles, "and don't believe anything that your brother is telling you, he knows well that your father will not approve of this journey to the wall."

"Well you don't know how Jonothor charms his way to get what he wants Your Grace," countered the princess with a shake of her head, "if he wants to go to the wall, he will go and I know brother Rhaegar will approve."

"You really know him well Dany," said the queen with a sigh, "but enough of your brother," then she knelt down in front of Daeron once again, "you're going to visit Riverrun my son, and you will wait for your brother Jonothor there."

"What about you and father?" he asked confused, "aren't you going to come with us?"

His mother shook her head.

"No my son, we will see each other probably in Dreadfort where the marriage of Domeric will be held, your father and I will take a ship that is bound to White Harbor once your party arrived at the Neck," then she paused, "but your aunt, Princess Daenerys will accompany you, she will wait in Riverrun for your brother Jon too," she told him, "your friends can come with you, you will enjoy Riverlands with its little rivers and the miles of miles of fields of corns and barley," then his mother smiled, "and besides, I've arranged for Howland Reed's children, the lord of Greywater Watch to come and guide your party as you travel in the Neck, you know him right?"

Lord Howland is like one of the many legends in the tale of his mother and father at Harrenhal. The little lord of the Neck, who was rescued by queen Lyanna as he was being beaten up by three squires younger than him but the Gods put on a cruel joke to make him smaller than most, the shy crannogman from the Neck who shared his uncle Eddard's tent on the duration of his stay on the tourney, a great friend of House Stark and from the accounts of his mother, a green seer too.

"Yes mother," said Prince Daeron with a nod and a smile now forming on her lips, "I will go with Aunt Daenerys."

"Well you don't have a choice nephew," said his aunt, ruffling his hair and annoying him.

Queen Lyanna's grey eyes lit up when she saw his annoyed face and suddenly he remembered his grandmother, Queen Mother Rhaella.

"How about grandmother? Will she come with us too?" he asked.

This time, he saw his aunt and her mother exchanged glances then Queen Lyanna shook her head with a tight smile.

"She will stay here in Kings Landing, Daeron," she answered him, "she will rule here while your father is gone and will wait for the comeback of your uncle, Prince Viserys."

At the mention of the missing Targaryen Prince, his mother and his aunt became quiet as a crypt.

"Can I resume my play now?" he asked after some time.

Queen Lyanna nodded but before the prince can leave the small garden, the queen kissed him on the forehead once again.

"You go enjoy your day my son," she said with a small smile, "go and play."

Prince Daeron nodded and with one last look on his aunt and his mother, he finally left them and returned to the courtyard near the Godswood of the Red Keep with his guard Ser Willis Wode and there, he found his friends, they are about to start their new game, hide and seek.

"Cousin!" cried Bran in delight, "come, we're just about to start."

"All right," muttered the Prince as he took his place between the two Seaworth brothers.

His cousin Bran is the one who's leading the start of the game. They agreed for an odd number and they started to count and it ended up with Maric, the elder Seaworth who was just standing next to him and Prince Daeron was glad that he was not chosen to be the one to play the seeker because finding his friends are hard, especially his cousins and Lyman Darry.

The defeated face of Maric Seaworth was obliged to play the seeker and he demanded that he will only count thirty seconds for all of them to hide, and that the buildings on the courtyard are the only places they can hide to, that includes the Small Gallery, the kitchens of the Small Gallery and the Tower of the Hand excluding the Royal Septuaire.

Daeron and the others quickly shuffled away to hide, Arya and Lyanna went to the Small Gallery, Lyman Darry and Monterys cut their way towards the kitchen of the Small Gallery, Devan Seaworth climb towards the turret above the kitchen while him and Bran made their way towards the Tower of the Hand. The guards let them in when they saw Daeron with Bran.

"I heard the lord Hand is away," muttered Bran as they silently run towards the stairs and to the upper floors.

"I know," answered Daeron, "he is with Lord Baelish this morning."

They made it to the second level of the building where the Private Audience of the tower is located. The two of them went inside, Bran walking further in the room while Daeron is waiting on the door.

Prince Daeron noticed that the Private Audience of the Hand is not as large as the king's but it has myrish rugs, wall hangings and a golden tinted round window.

His cousin is checking out the golden tinted window at the end of the chamber when Daeron heard footsteps and a voice below the tower and then he realized that it was Maric.

"Bran!" he called out, "Maric is approaching!"

His cousin was startled to his voice and Bran gave a sign that he's going to hide behind the tall chair of the Hand of the King and he gestured that Daeron should climb to the upper levels of the tower and in confusion, the prince obliged and went towards the stair. He run to the circling steps two at a time and once at the top, he's already gasping for air as he went to the nearest unlocked door, going inside and closing the door behind him.

He stayed silent as he waited behind the door, catching his breath and listening to his surroundings. It seems like Prince Daeron can hear voices on the second level of the tower.

'Was Bran caught?' he asked himself.

He waited for after a few minutes before deciding to try and peek, he slowly opened the door to find the corridor empty, and then he heard footsteps and voices on the stair so he closed the door again, backing away from it as far as he could until his back hit a stone wall that's below a wooden stair that will lead upstairs and there he remained. He realized after sometime, when his eyes finally adjusted into the darkness of the room that he is inside a servants storeroom because of the brooms, rags and pales with half empty water scattered around.

He remained silent until the only thing he can hear is his own breathing and then all of a sudden he heard voices. It's not coming from outside the corridor but upstairs.

Prince Daeron left where he is standing and turned to look at the floor above him.

'Should I go?' he asked himself, suddenly feeling nervous as the voices get louder and louder.

He felt his foot taking a step towards the wooden stairs and step by step, he made his way towards the second floor where the voices can be heard clearly now. Prince Daeron is now standing at the small servants room that is connected to two other rooms, one of which is where the voices are coming from and he realized that the sounds are nothing but grunts and moans and it seems like the one making it is being beaten or not....

Slowly the prince made his way towards the door on the left where the sounds are coming from and opening it gently to peek and there inside, opposite to him, he saw the lord Hand, his back on the bed, naked and moaning, his legs are being held tightly by another man in and upright position. Prince Daeron realized then that they are doing something unnatural and that the man doing it is actually a young lad with a blue hair, as naked as the lord Hand as he pounds him rather roughly, their gazes are intent and hard.

"Harder, please oh.." begged the lord Hand and the young man obliged, pounding him in a long slow strokes.

"Where should I cum?" asked the blue haired young man.

"Inside," answered the lord Hand and then the young lad changed his pace from long slow pounding to fast and rough, grunting all the way, closing his eye, his body shaking as his pounding stops and when he opened his eyes, Daeron saw that it was purple, just like his brother Jonothor's and it's staring at him.

Prince Daeron didn't moved, he wanted to but his feet is frozen and when the lord Hand stood up, he is naked and full of red hair below the waist and he kissed the man passionately and told him he will be back for more.

The young lad walked with the Lord Hand on the other door of the room and Prince Daeron used that moment to compose himself and to leave. He backed away as he heard the door of the room closes then he made his way to the wooden stairs and down below. He was almost at the door that will lead him to the corridor when all of a sudden, a voice stopped him.

"Who might you be, boy?" asked the voice and when he turned around, Prince Daeron saw that it was the young lad and he is now wearing a robe to cover his nakedness. The young lad is making his way down to the wooden stairs, towards him while Daeron's hand is on the grip of the door, "I said who might you be?"

The young man stopped a few meters away from the Prince, searching his face and as the seconds go by, Prince Daeron saw the frown forming on his face then it turned into a scowl.

'I must be brave like my mother and father, and Jon too,' he said to himself so he met the scowling face of the man, giving him his own hard look.

"I am Prince Daeron Targaryen," he told the young lad, "who are you and what are you doing here in my father's castle?" this time he faced him, meeting his stare.

The young lad shook his head for a second, as if remembering something then his expression turned almost like the many faces of the servants of the Red Keep; obedient and always ready to help.

"I didn't know that it was you, Your Highness," answered the young man, smiling but Daeron knows it was all fake because his smile doesn't reflect on his eyes, "and my name is Griff, I'm employed by Lord Connington."

"Employed for what?" asked Prince Daeron.

"Employed to please him, do whatever he wants with my body, my lord," answered the young lad and Daeron noticed that the way he said the words my lord, is not the way the servants says it.

"You're not from here, Griff," he told him frankly, "and I know you're lying so stop pretending," Prince Daeron paused, searching his face, "but I don't care about your business, I was thought by my mother never to interfere with others unless it involves me," then he half smiled, "yours and Lord Jon Connington's business is safe with me."

He left the awestruck Griff, leaving the prostitute on the room then the prince run towards where he came from, not knowing that he met one of the men that will trigger the horrors that will come to his family.

Chapter 3: Margaery I

Notes:

Hey there guys! I'm sorry I was not able to update last monday. Well I'm not going to delay you any further... I hope y'all will like this chapter. Carry on!

Chapter Text

It was the day of the arrival of the Crown Prince party from Kings Landing and the whole household of Highgarden is waiting patiently and eagerly as every servants are made to work for the arrival of the Royal guest and his noble friends.

There will be a tourney to celebrate the visit of the Crown Prince and other games that includes archery, axe throwing and horse riding and every night of his stay, there will be a feast and the best singers in the Reach have been invited to play every evening.

Lady Margaery is seating in the open hall of the north side of the castle and since Highgarden was built atop a hill, it overlooks the widest field of golden roses as far as the eye can see and nearby, fruits such as melons, peaches and fireplums are also grown. She is waiting for the riders to appear on the roseroad. Her brothers Willas and Garlan have left Highgarden early in the morning to welcome and escort the approaching party of the Crown Prince after the news from Cider Hall, the seat of House Fossoway arrived three days ago, reporting that a small number of riders are making their way down on the roseroad, bearing the sigil of House Targaryen.

'I will finally see him again,' thought Margaery that night when the news arrived and he dreamed of her Targaryen Prince, kissing her sweetly on the lips before riding a green dragon in the air.

'I will come back for you, my queen,' said the prince to her as he flew and left her to the red castle.

All of Highgarden has been busy since then, and because her father, Lord Mace Tyrell, chose to stay in Kings Landing, her mother Lady Alerie Hightower was the one in charge for the preparations while her grandmother, Lady Olenna Redwyne would often check on her, reminding her of what need to be done in the presence of the prince.

"You are one, if not the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms," said her grandmother, "and from what we heard Prince Jonothor have grown to be a man with needs, a trait he got from his late uncle, Brandon Stark," then the old lady leaned in closer to her, "tease him, fill his needs with smiles and touch until one night you'll find him outside the door of your bed chamber and you will let him..." she paused, looking at her, "do you understand my meaning Margaery?"

She nodded her head, she knows what needs to be done.

"But what if he doesn't," she countered reluctantly, "what if he is really in love with the princess?"

"Nonsense," her grandmother shrugged it off, "I wasn't originally meant to marry your grandfather Luthor, do you know that?"

She frowned, as if waiting for her grandmother to tell her that it was some joke but the queen of thorns didn't, and the old woman gave her a lingering look.

"Your grandfather was engaged to my sister, your great grand aunt Viola and I was meant to some Targaryen prince, marrying a Targaryen was all the rage back then just as now," then her grandmother rolled her eyes, while shaking her head in an overacting passion, "but when I saw my intended, with his ludicrous silver hair, I knew he wouldn't do," then she smiled, her wicked smile that she has passed down to Margaery, "the evening before Luthor was to proposed to my sister, I got lost on my way back from my embroidery lesson and happened upon his chamber," Lady Olenna winked at her then and she returned it with a smile, "the following morning, he didn't made it down the stairs to propose to my sister because he couldn't bloody walk, and once he did, the only thing he wanted is what I have given him the night before," her grandmother paused and took hold of her hand, "Daenerys is beautiful and a Targaryen princess besides, but you are better and you need to show that to Prince Jonothor or else we're going to have another war because a Targaryen prince chose another woman, like King Rhaegar choosing Her Grace, Queen Lyanna over that ambitious Elia Martell."

She nodded, understanding all the point of their talk and that's what's running on Margaery's mind as she waits anxiously on the open hall, now standing near the railing of the balcony.

"I need to seduce him," she told herself, "I need to do this for my house," then in the distance, she heard the neighing and galloping of horses and then a rider appeared from the edge of the field, carrying a black and red standard that can only be the colors of House Targaryen.

Soon enough other riders appeared behind, carrying other standards and Margaery can see the green and gold standard of her house, the sky-blue and white of House Arryn as well as the white standard of the Kingsguard and the grey and white of House Stark but then all of a sudden a servant arrived and told her that her mother and grandmother are asking for her in the courtyard of the castle.

"I'll be there," she answered to the servant, lingering to look on the approaching riders in the distance, hoping to see the black hair of the Crown Prince to no avail so after some time, she finally went towards the courtyard below, where the servants are now gathered and the household of House Tyrell are lined up.

It was headed by her grandmother, Lady Olenna Tyrell, who's wearing a gown the color of the grapes of her maiden house, her hair is in a tight knot, making her old wizened face sharp while her mother, Lady Alerie is wearing a gown with the gold color of House Tyrell, her hair is arranged in a ringlet, her face dignified. Margaery herself is wearing a green sleeveless flowing gown, one of the colors of House Tyrell, she let her long brown hair loose while wearing a necklace with the pendant of golden rose.

"Are you excited, daughter?" asked her mother when she took her place beside her.

"I am, mother," she replied with a nod, "but I'm also nervous, I haven't seen the prince for five years, I wonder what he looks like."

"He looks handsome, Margaery," answered her lady mother with a reassuring smile, "I was there when King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna agreed to the match, Prince Jonothor even joke that he is not worthy of your beauty."

Margaery doesn't know if her mother just ignored the fact that Prince Jonothor might not be joking at all, but she brushed the thought away as they heard a horn from the outer gates of the castle being blown.

"My ladies, they are now passing the briar maze," called out Igon Vyrwel the captain of the guards, who's standing atop the ramparts of the middle wall, ceasing all of the murmurs of the servants, "they are being led by Prince Jonothor himself and riding beside him is Lord Willas followed by the two Kingsguards and Ser Garlan Tyrell."

Margaery can almost taste the anticipation in the air as everyone in the yard heard the approaching gallops of horses and soon enough, riders poured in inside the courtyard, the first riders to passed the walls are the two Kingsguards, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Myles Mooton and then she finally saw the Crown Prince after, riding beside her brothers Willas and Garlan.

Prince Jonothor is wearing a crown made of iron and bronze, he has taken the appearance of his Stark blood, revealing nothing of his Targaryen heritage on his face. The Crown Prince has a lean build, with dark brown hair and eyes the color of purple, the only thing he got from his father, the King.

As his horse reared and neighed, halting not far away from where Margaery is standing along with the rest of the Tyrell household, she saw that up close, her mother is indeed right. While he doesn't have the Valyrian look, the Crown Prince still has a certain wild beauty about him, something she cannot explain.

Maybe it's the way his lips grin, or his eyes looking at them with interest or the way he clench his jaw and when their gazes met, he smiled at her, revealing a perfectly white teeth before climbing down on his stirrups. He is wearing a black long cloak emblazoned on the back with the three heads of the dragon of House Targaryen and underneath, he is wearing a fine grey tunic, black breeches and grey boots. His dark brown shoulder length hair is knotted and as he approached them, all of the people on the courtyard went to their knees.

Margaery suddenly felt herself nervous as she heard his footsteps but she didn't dared to look at him on the face, her eyes burned holes on the dirt where it remained as she heard the continuous arrival of the riders.

"Stand," commanded the Prince, his iron voice echoing on the deepest part of her soul and all of them obliged.

She saw then that Prince Jonothor went to her grandmother first; kissing her bare hand and exchanging pleasantries then her mother's turn came next, doing the same thing that he did to the queen of thorns and then her turn finally came next.

When the Crown Prince made his way in front of her, she was not able to return the intent gaze of his eyes and she looked away, her confidence seems to have been taken away but she felt his hands, his cold bare hands on her chin, gently forcing her to face him.

"My lady, you have grown to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he told her and she felt her face reddening, while half smiling to hear the compliment and she noticed that the prince is now a head taller than her or maybe more but then she remembered that Prince Jonothor have always been taller than her even when she's been living in King Landing five years ago.

"You honor me, Your Highness," she replied, willing herself to look on his eyes, finding her confidence back, "and I can see that the laughing boy I grew up with in Kings Landing have grown to be a fine handsome man."

Prince Jonothor chuckled, a mischievous grin forming on his lips as he took hold of her hand, kissing it, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm glad to see you again Margaery," he told her, "I can't wait to bring you to Dragonstone where we're going to live before I ascend the Iron Throne."

She didn't thought about that, living in the bleak Targaryen castle of Dragonstone but she can endure it, she will and she must.

"Well I've been counting the days myself, Your Highness," she answered politely.

"Your Highness?" he said amused, "I am to be your husband, my lady, you can call me Jon, like you used to when you're still living in Kings Landing."

She smiled at him, glad that he's not arrogant.

"Jon," she said firmly, "I've been counting the days... Jon."

Prince Jonothor kissed her cheeks and nodded his head while taking a step back.

"Might I introduce my companions, my ladies?" he asked Lady Olenna and Lady Alerie in which the old woman agreed and the Crown Prince introduced them one by one.

Margaery knew all of his companions, she also grew up with them in Kings Landing; there's Robb Stark, Prince Jonothor's cousin , the heir of House Stark and son of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark, he is wearing a simple doublet of grey emblazoned with the direwolf of his house, she always consider Robb Stark as somber when they were young but seeing him now, Margaery saw that the shy boy grew up to be a handsome man, with the looks of the Tully's on his appearance.

Then there's the two ironborn, Tristifier Botley, the son of Lord Sawane Botley, Margaery saw that he is handsome as well, with a messy hair and large eyes, standing beside him is the arrogant looking Theon Greyjoy with black hair and cocky grin that always plastered on his lips, he is wearing a brown sleeves underneath a coat that has the golden kraken of his house emblazoned at the back.

Next is line are the two sons of the Vale. The competition of her brother Willas to the hands of Lady Sansa Stark; Harrold Arryn, the son and heir of Elbert Arryn, the heir of Lord Jon Arryn who is wearing a magnificent leather doublet the color of his house with a white shirt underneath, belted by a brown leather, showing the cords of muscles on his arms and Robar Royce, the second son of Lord Yohn Royce, Margaery consider the younger Royce a comely in a rough-hewn way while Harrold is handsome with a blond hair and strong jaws.

Then comes the lone riverman, dornishman and reacherman. Lucas Blackhood is the second son of Lord Tytos Blackhood, who looks as wild like all the prince's companions, he is wearing a simple black riding tunic then he is followed by Edric Dayne, Lord of Starfall and the nephew of the Lord Commander Ser Arthur Dayne, Margaery can see that Edric is still shy and now, his face looks anxious, as his purple eyes looks around the castle, probably because of the long rift between the Reach and Dorne. He is followed by her own cousin Horas Redwyne, the son and heir of Lord Paxter Redwyne, who smiled at her when he caught her looking at him. Margaery considers Horas homely with orange hair and a square, freckled face.

They are followed by the remaining northmen. She can still remember the friendly face of Cley Cerwyn, he is the son and heir of Lord Medger Cerwyn and he is wearing a white cloak, his tunic is emblazoned with the silver battle-axe of his house, then comes the tall Daryn Hornhood, Margaery can see that he has now a long wild hair and he let it loose behind him. The last of them are the taller Karstark brothers, Eddard and Torrhen, who both look as somber as their distant Stark cousins, with the white sunburst emblazoned on their leather tunics.

"I welcome you to Highgarden my lords," said her grandmother after the introduction, "I know all of you have had a very long travel just to get here and I offer you food, music and chambers to rest in inside."

The feast started soon after and the festivities around the castle as well. Margaery was reminded by her grandmother before she was set to seat beside the Crown Prince on the upper dais of the Great Hall of Highgarden about her duty to her house.

"The link of House Tyrell to House Stark rest in Willas hands, while you will ensure that for the first time in our history, a Tyrell Queen will rule beside a Targaryen King."

She nodded her head then and went to do her work. Five large banners are hanging on the rafter of the ceiling of the Great Hall. The first two are the banners of Houses Targaryen and Tyrell, hanging side by side, as a sign of the future marriage of Margaery and the Prince. It was followed by the banners of Houses Stark, Arryn and Greyjoy as a sign of their status as Great Houses.

She and the prince are both seated at the upper dais above everyone else, with only the two Kingsguards standing guard on each side of them. On the lower dais, her grandmother Lady Olenna, her mother Lady Alerie, her brothers Willas and Garlan, Robb Stark, Harrold Arryn and Theon Greyjoy are seated while the rest of the companions of the Crown Prince are seated at the tables that lined up beside the walls of the Great Hall along with the Lords of the Reach who came to attend the visit of the royal guest.

She started her work by giving Prince Jonothor lingering looks, then giving suggestive smiles and as he share one story from another, she intently listened, and laughs when needed. One moment, when Butterbumps is performing an act, she intentionally laid her left hand on the right hand of the prince, and withdrawing it, as if feigning a surprise but then Prince Jonothor seems to notice her act and she was surprise when he took hold of her hand, kissing the back while smiling at her.

'Tis will be easy then,' she said to herself.

As the feast drags on, Margaery shared her own stories to the Crown Prince who seems to be really listening to her and she chose the most excellent food in a platter when servants came to them and Prince Jonothor will slice a few, taste it and will thank her for the delicious meal and when the evening comes, she suggested to the prince that they visit the other visitors of House Tyrell outside the walls of the castle.

"Come on my prince," she said with a coy smile, "let's go see them and the gardens after."

"Gardens?" asked the prince, eyeing her with a smirk, "what are we going to do in the gardens in the dark?"

Margaery returned his smile and leaned in, inches away from his face.

"Well you can pluck out a golden rose without the disturbance of the feast," she told him and Prince Jonothor grinned.

"Alright, come on," he said and the two of them excused themselves to her mother, grandmother and to her brothers.

The only ones who followed them are the two Kingsguard as she locked her left arm at the crook of Prince Jonothor's right and as they made their way out of the Great Hall, she saw their guest stealing looks at them; the women's eyes are full of envy as they glance at the prince, whispering to themselves and she felt proud.

'Prince Jonothor will be mine,' she said to herself as she held her head high.

It was already dark when they made their away on the briar maze of the castle, and to the camp outside the walls. Tents have been erected outside the outer walls of Highgarden, the pavilions of the lords and ladies from all around Highgarden and even from the Westerlands and Riverrun as she saw the banners of Houses Piper, Bracken, Blackhood, Frey and the banners of Houses Crakehall, Brax, Banefort, Prester and Westerling.

All of them bowed when they saw the prince and some of the braver lords came to talk as well, asking Prince Jonothor if he's going to enter the tourney in which he respond 'mayhaps' and Margaery remembered the story of the Tourney at Harrenhal.

'Will he name me the queen of love and beauty if by chance he wins?' she asked herself, suddenly getting excited at the thought of her wearing a crown of golden roses.

Prince Jonothor also showed a boy who's aspiring to be a great warrior how to hold a sword properly.

"You must learn how to hold it properly," said the prince to the small common boy who's practicing with his brothers in front of a camp fire when they came upon them, "when parrying an attack, you should have a firm hold on the pommel," then he showed it to him, amidst the onlookers who gathered around the campfire to look, "and if you're going for an attack," said the prince while still holding the wooden sword of the boy in the air, as if parrying an invisible attack, "go to the side of your sword arm and you can put a two hand grip on the pommel so that the attack will be more critical to your enemy," then he smiled, giving back the wooden sword of the boy with a satisfied smile on his lips, "go and train some more," he said messing his hair.

Margaery watched all of this beside the two Kingsguards and she was glad that Prince Jonothor has a kind heart as well.

'I will be the luckiest wife in the Seven Kingdoms,' she said to herself as they continued their walk, an hour later, they finally returned to the briar maze.

This time, the air seems to be more intimate and as she leads Prince Jonothor to the deeper parts of the gardens, she noticed that when they entered the last corner of the twisting path of the secret courtyard, the two Kingsguards have stopped following them, leaving them alone on the rectangular garden with a small fountain in the middle. There are marble benches as well as they sat on the nearest one.

"So where is this golden rose that I can pluck out?" asked the Crown Prince and she turned to look at her.

"Right here, Your Highness," she told him and she leaned in for a kiss.

It was just a simple kiss at first but as the seconds pass, it became passionate, then urgent as she opened her mouth for Prince Jonothor's tongue to explore it. Her hands came to the back of his head and lost it on his hair, untying the elastic knot, in an effort to pull him closer to her as the Crown Prince own hands explored her body through the fabric of her clothes, she moaned when his hand came to her breast, touching it gently while his other hand rested on the small of her back. She inhaled his scent and it did something on the deepest parts of her body, something she never experienced before.

"I like how you smell," she suddenly admitted and Prince Jonothor only smiled, withdrawing from their kiss.

The only light is coming from the moon, and the only sound are coming from the night insects, the fountain and the music at the Great Hall of the castle.

"And I like your large brown eyes," said the Prince looking intently on it, caressing her face gently, as if she's the most fragile thing he laid his hands on, "and the taste of your mouth," he gave her a quick and passionate kiss, "and the way you look at me, I like everything about you."

That made Margaery's cheeks hot.

"But my lady," said the Prince, frowning at her, "I want to take everything you can offer, badly," he said looking pained, "but my father reminded me to control my urges and ---"

"You don't need to control yourself, Your Highness," she interrupted him, "take everything you need, satisfy yourself with me."

Prince Jonothor gave him a lingering look, as if searching her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, "you don't need to do this Margaery, you're going to be--"

She cut him off by kissing him, her hands travelling to the south, down to his belt and that thing that have grown erect between his legs.

"I want to do it, this will be my first but..." she said, her eyes lingering on the dilated eyes of the prince, "do you want to, Jon?"

Prince Jonothor smirked.

"Of course, I want to," he said, kissing her once again.

This time there was no holding back and that night, the two of them, they explored each other's naked soul, him pleasuring her and her pleasuring him. It was evident that the Crown Prince is an expert to lovemaking but Margaery didn't back down, she showed him how the Tyrell's do it and they are damn good doing it.

"Again," was the only word that the Prince uttered, his voice aching and needy, making her smile at the look on his face.

"As you wish Your Highness," she obliged, sitting atop him, moving her hips slowly; fucking him in a passionate way while their lips are locked in a kiss.

When the morning came, her face was radiant with satisfaction and victory, making her way to her grandmother who's having her breakfast at the Great Hall, along with the lords who woke up early in the morning, she contained the smile on her lips until she reach the queen of thorns.

"You seem happy, granddaughter," said Lady Olenna while searching her face and reading her eyes, the queen of thorns own lips turned into a toothless smile as she understood the meaning of that smile, "you did it? That's quite a feat Margaery."

"It's an easy job," Margaery told her, remembering their lovemaking in the garden and in the early morn, the two of them made their way to the chambers of the Prince, doing it for the hundredth time, before sleeping together on the bed, "he begged me, grandmother," she whispered, "and it felt good doing it and besides, he's not that bad himself."

"That's good to hear," said Lady Olenna, leaning in closer, "continue doing it Margaery, satisfy him all he wants, until you feel yourself being lightheaded when you wake up one morning, that's when we know the throne is secured for you, for us, for House Tyrell."

She nodded her head and the two of them returned to their casual talk about the feast and the games in the afternoon as her brother Garlan arrived, greeting them both.

"You look happy, sister," commented Ser Garlan after taking a few bites of the morning bread.

"I am," she agreed, smiling at her brother, "I am happy brother," she added, turning to glance to their grandmother.

Chapter 4: Daenerys I

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Daenerys woke up early on the day of their departure to Riverrun, her handmaiden, Wylla helped her to put on a riding clothes made in leather, pairing it with tight breeches and black leather boots while she braided her hair.

"You look very beautiful, Princess," commented the dornishwoman, "I'm sure the sons of the northern and river lords will pay their respect to you."

"Thanks Wylla," said Danerys with a smile, looking at herself in the mirror.

'Jon likes this look,' she said to herself, it's the only thing that matters.

Daenerys love for her nephew started when they we're very young, although she didn't admitted it to herself at first because she had known since learning about how the game is played, that the Tyrell's are scheming to make that overconfident Margaery to have a betrothal to the Crown Prince.

She understands that her brother's reign was started in a war between the Great Houses and once ascending the throne, he needed to consolidate the power of House Targaryen. Queen Rhaella told her that the Tyrell's are the strongest among the supporters of her brother during his campaign and that Lord Mace Tyrell are one of the first lords who declared for the King at the Tourney at Harrenhal.

"Jonothor will be betrothed to Lady Margaery," her mother told her one night when she heard about the news of the betrothal of her brother, Prince Viserys to some Martell princess, "and your brother Viserys is going to play an important role to make peace with the Martell's," then queen Rhaella paused, "and you my daughter would one day marry a lord."

She remembered thinking that it's Robb Stark that she will marry, Queen Lyanna's own nephew but then as the years go by, the Stark's never demanded a betrothal and she realized then that Lord Eddard Stark is really an honorable man and that the Stark's cares nothing about the Game of Thrones.

But not everyone are as honorable as the Stark's, for the Tully's, Tyrell's, Arryn's and even the Hightower's and the Royce's had asked a private meeting with her brother Rhaegar and her mother, Rhaella, and she learned later on that the Tyrell's are offering their heir, Willas as a possible match for her, then Edmure Tully for the Tully's, Harrold Arryn for the Arryn's, Baelor Hightower for the Hightower's and Andar Royce for the Royce's but they were all turned down by the King. Rhaegar told them that he will let Dany choose her own husband, making their mother, Queen Rhaella smile.

That was when the talk around the castle about the Crown Prince's philandering ways erupted, it was also in that moment that her body have started changing, she is now turning into a young woman, as well as the way she perceives Jonothor and one night, after attending one of the many feast inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep, her cousin walked her to her chambers and there, she was surprised that after kissing him on the cheeks as a goodnight kiss, he went for a kiss on her lips after, telling her that she is so beautiful.

She knows that Jonothor want's her, but she turned him down back then, reminding the Crown Prince of his nightly visit at the brothel's around Kings Landing.

Since turning him down, the news of Jonothor's philandering ways lessened, while their love for each other grew until one night, she gave himself to him after winning on a tourney, though he named his cousin, Sansa as the Queen of Love and Beauty at the end of the tourney and not her, but she understood that Prince Jonothor is very close to his Stark cousins because he visits Winterfell once a year, staying in the North for a months, practically growing up in Winterfell as much as here in Kings Landing.

"You will be betrothed to Margaery," she told him as their naked bodies lay together on the bed that night, not so long ago.

"I am," he said, his voice somber like his cousin Robb.

"I don't want you to," she admitted, "I want you for myself," she kissed him then but Jon didn't respond, instead, he gave her a sad sigh, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue as a sign of frustration.

"We both know the consequences of insulting a Great House," Jon told her, "the realm will bleed if I run away with you, like what happened when father have taken mother as a wife, they are both promised with another and when they said their vows, the Martell's, Baratheon's and the Lannister's have become enemy of the crown," he paused, caressing her cheeks gently, "I want you too, Dany but if I don't follow through, we can't afford another war, with the Tyrell's now siding with the Martell's."

She understood that as well, and she accepted the fact that their affair will remain only as an affair, the romance of summer and summer don't last forever.

She tried moving on, but her love for him is too great and every night, she would often sneaked out from her chamber, making her way to Jonothor's, sometimes they only talk, while laying side by side in the bed, but most of the times, they would make love for the whole night.

One morning, an unexpected visitor came on her chamber. It was the Grand Maester, telling her that he was been sent by Queen Rhaella and the old man gave him a potion to drink, at first she didn't know why.

"To spare the Seven Kingdoms another war," she heard the Grand Maester mutter with a nod and she thought that he's talking more to himself, "to prevent Prince Jonothor's seed to quicken inside."

She wanted to spill the potion then, realizing the purpose of the drink but she didn't have the courage to do it... she is not as brave as her brother's Rhaegar and Viserys and she killed the chance of carrying the child of the Crown Prince once she finished the whole cup, the taste was bitter on her tongue.

'It must have been the Kingsguard,' she said to herself, as the Grand Maester finally left her chamber, remembering that the Kingsguards are loyal to the King, 'they must have been the one's telling Rhaegar of our affair.'

The memory still haunts her dreams but it's all in the past now and today, it was Ser Barristan Selmy that stands as his guard, as she gave instructions to the servants of the things that she will bring.

"Don't forget warm cloaks, Your Highness," added the knight, "even in summer, the winds in the North are as cold as the winters."

She nodded and added an instruction to bring five of her best and warmest cloaks then she left them, leaving Wylla, the dornishwoman overseeing the work while Ser Barristan follows her as she made her way on her mother's chamber.

It was a Targaryen knight who's standing guard outside the chamber when she arrived, the knight opened up the door for her and once inside, she saw the purple eyes of her mother looking at her.

"Good morning mother," she said, walking towards Queen Rhaella, who's sitting on her writing desk.

Her mother stood up, and they kissed each other on the cheeks.

"I can see that you're already ready for your journey," Queen Rhaella told her, tucking in a loose strand at the side of her face.

"I am," she admitted, "are you really going to stay and wait for Viserys?"

At the mention of her brother's name, the queen's face turned sad once again. It's been years since Viserys boarded the ship called the White Dragon, but it was reported that it since been gone missing after leaving Pentos and no one have seen the white ship after or survivors if there were any.

"I am," queen Rhaella answered firmly, "I am just writing a letter to the lords across the narrow sea," then her mother returned on her desk.

"If that's what you want," she said sullenly, "and mother," queen Rhaella turned to look at her, "I will miss you."

In the afternoon, three hundred Targaryen soldiers, that includes footmen, archers and riders have assembled at the Dragon Gate that have since been rebuilt after King Aerys blew it up with wildfire in attempt to burn the city during his war with his son, King Rhaegar. Two hundred knights are also included along with their squires, starting their long march in the Kingsroad on their journey North. Princess Daenerys with her cousin Daeron, along with his friends that includes his Stark cousins Brandon and Arya, the Seaworth brothers Maric and Devan, Lyanna Mormont, Monterys Velaryon and Lyman Darry are now on their horses (a pony for Lyanna).

Her Grace is talking to Daeron and Dany can hear the queen telling her son to enjoy their journey while her brother Rhaegar is talking with Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell at the head of the Targaryen column. It was agreed that for the journey, Ser Barristan will be her guard while Ser Oswell will look out for the young Prince Daeron.

Her mother stayed behind the castle but before leaving the yard of the Red Keep, Queen Rhaella said her good byes to her daughter and grandson, kissing them both on the forehead.

"Are you good to go, Dany?" asked Rhaegar after talking to the two Kingsguards.

Her brother is wearing his famous black armor, less the helm with the three heads of the dragon at the top. His face looks tired but still holds the handsome appearance of their Valyrian heritage while letting his long silver hair falls freely on his back.

"I am, Your Grace," she replied as she brushed the hair of her horse, "I will see you in the North?"

"We will," nodded his brother and the King kissed her at the top of her head.

Jonothor might not have the Targaryen looks, she said to herself, but like Rhaegar, he is extremely tall and has the purple eyes of his father too.

'He smells of home,' Dany thought after Rhaegar withdraws from her.

"Do you think Viserys will return?" she asked all of a sudden.

The look on her brother's face turned melancholic, sighing, he shook his head, surprising even her.

"Viserys might have run away," the King admitted to her, "he told me he doesn't want the prospect of marrying Princess Arianne Martell and living in Sunspear," he paused, looking at her, "he told me that he wanted to travel the world and once I've given him the blessing to go," her brother paused, "look now, I don't think he plans on returning so soon."

That made sense to her, growing up, she often hears Viserys talking about living in the Free Cities, travelling with his own ship and having his own adventures.

"Well how about the Martell Princess?" she asked him curiously.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrugged, "I've insulted them enough and soon, I can see House Martell rebelling on us again."

If they rebel, Dany thought, the marriage of Jonothor to Margaery will be held earlier, and it breaks her into a millions pieces by just thinking about it, imagining of seeing the Crown Prince, holding hands with Maid Margaery at the Sept, while she watch in the background as Jonothor proclaim his love to the Tyrell girl.

Oh.. I think I'll just run away too, she said to herself, maybe in the Free Cities, or in the Dothraki Sea.

"That won't happen," she blurted out all of a sudden, much to the surprise of Rhaegar, "on our return, write to them that I'm willing to take Viserys place, Prince Doran has sons as well right?"

Rhaegar studied her face; as if he's confused to hear that words coming from her mouth.

"You don't have to do that, Daenerys," said her brother, his face concerned, "I'm thinking on sending Daeron in Sunspear, as a ward to Prince Doran."

That shocked the princess.

"But Rhaegar, sending your own child?" she gasped, "you know that there's a bad blood between the Iron Throne and Sunspear, little Daeron's life will be in danger."

Rhaegar shook his head, "I don't think Prince Doran will hurt any child, and Daeron is a sweet boy," then he paused, eyeing his wife that's now talking to Arya and little Lyanna Mormont, "and I want him to meet his brother Aegon," he added in whisper.

Daenerys shook her head in disbelief, "I like to see how you will convince Queen Lyanna with that notion of yours," she told her brother then the king straightened up and Daenerys found out that it's mainly because the queen is now making her way towards them.

"Dany," came the voice of the queen and Daenerys turned to look at her as she finished brushing the mane of her horse, "please look after my sons."

She gave a tight smile as Queen Lyanna gave Rhaegar a kiss while her brother laid his hand safely at the small back of the queen.

"Looking after Daeron will be easy enough," Dany muttered then the three of turned to look at the young prince who seems to be challenging his cousin Bran on a horse race once outside the walls of the city, "but Jon?" she raised one of her brow.

"Jon and I had a little talk before he left for Highgarden," the king told her, "he will behave, don't worry about him too much, Dany."

"If you say so, Your Grace," she said nonplussed, a grin tugging on her lips.

"Your Grace," called out Ser Barristan, "we're ready to go."

Her brother nodded then he helped her to her horse.

"Enjoy Riverrun," he told her and with one last wave at the two of them, she finally willed her horse on the direction of the kingsroad.

Once their party was finally on the road, they have been position at the center of the column, with a hundred soldiers already ahead of them, falling to the commands of the younger brother of Ser Willis Wode whom Daenerys forgot the name while Ser Barristan is riding right in front of them, followed by the little Daeron's riding friends, she followed them next and then Ser Oswell Whent and behind them, a hundred others are also marching with the golden carriage that will be used as their sleeping quarters while on the road.

The day was sunny and true enough, Prince Daeron and his friends enjoyed the sloping road. Daenerys too is enjoying herself while listening to the stories of Ser Oswell and Ser Barristan and during their break, as she sat on a chair under the shadows of a crude tent that was erected for her, Daeron and his friends brought her flowers that they had picked up at the side of the road.

"There are hundreds of them," came the breathless voice of Bran, his face flushed, "and Arya is enjoying herself," the two of them looked at the retreating back of his sister with all of his friends, "she is fond of flowers like aunt Lyanna."

"Thank you, Bran," she said giving the boy a kiss, his face turning scarlet red.

"I'm going to run back to them," he told her, "bye princess!"

After an hour, they were off again.

They travelled for many days, they even stayed at Castle Darry for half a day until they reach the Inn at the Crossroads, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell decided that they will stay here to spend the night. It was a small inn and she was given a modest room while her nephew with all his friends is given the biggest of the room that the inn can offer, so that they will all be sleeping together. Ser Oswell is standing guard on Prince Daeron's door while Ser Barristan is standing guard outside her's.

Daenerys can hear the sound of the feast on the common hall below her room, there's actually no music, instead, it's the sound of drunk men, singing and having a good time and then all of a sudden, a knock came through the door.

"Princess, the innkeeper wants to have a word," came the voice of Ser Barristan.

"Let her in," answered Daenerys and soon enough, Masha Heddle was escorted inside.

The innkeeper stayed near the door as Ser Barristan left the innkeeper with her.

"What is it?" she asked her curiously.

"A rider from Riverrun, Your Highness," answered the innkeeper, "a letter from Lord Hoster."

Daenerys beckoned her to come forward and Masha obliged nervously and she handed her the letter sealed with red wax with the trout of House Tully.

"Why are you nervous?" Daenerys asked her, "Queen Lyanna and Prince Jonothor often stays here, isn't that right?"

Masha Heddle nodded her head vigorously, "Queen Lyanna and her brothers stayed here on their way to Riverrun and Harrenhal Your Highness," her voice was thin, "that was before she eloped with His Grace King Rhaegar, she was still the Lady of Winterfell back then, and was promised to Lord Robert Baratheon of Storms End," she paused, more confident now, "and the Crown Prince stayed here dozen of times on his way to the North."

"Well you shouldn't be nervous," said Daenerys, "now, I'll just send for you if I need something, thank you," she smiled at the woman before she left, then she made her way towards the writing table, seating on the chair beside an open window that overlooks the yard of the inn. She opened the letter and she quickly saw the writing of the Lord of Riverrun.

"Riverrun is waiting patiently for your arrival Princess and since you're on the road, I should tell you that my grandson, Robb Stark have won the tourney at Highgarden, beating his own cousin, the Crown Prince as the final opponent, he named Lady Jeyne Westerling as the Queen of Love and Beauty and the Crown Prince's party are now also making their way here in the castle through the road of Westerlands, I believe that because they are a smaller party, they will arrive just hours after yours settled here in the castle."

"Hoping for the safe journey of your party Your Highness."

Robb beat Jon? Daenerys said to herself, thinking about the muscular Stark and her slender and more graceful nephew.

Maybe Jon let Robb beat him, so that he won't be force to name Margaery as the Queen of Love and Beauty or maybe, Robb did really beat him, maybe he really fancy that Westerling girl, she said to herself as she puts down the letter on the bedside table.

That night, she slept more comfortably, the thought of seeing Jonothor is thick on her mind and when the morning came, they continued their way to Riverrun. Fifty men, ten of which are knights are accompanying them while the others will stay at the inn to wait for them.

Riverrun is a small three sided castle. Bordered on the north by the river Tumblestone and on the south by the river Red Fork and on its west side, it faces a massive man-made ditch that in times of war, the sluiced gates can be opened to fill the wide moat with the water from the rivers from its either side turning the castle into an island.

As Daenerys rode her horse on the hill that overlooks the castle, an honor guard arrived bearing the silver trout of House Tully, to guide them on the west side of Riverrun where the gates have been opened to welcome them.

"Form your line!" barked out Ser Barristan as Daeron and his friends went to their places.

Ser Barristan himself was the first in line, and two riders beside him is bearing the white standard of the Kingsguard and the three heads of the dragon of House Targaryen, Daenerys and Daeron was next in line, riding behind them is Ser Oswell Whent. They are followed by the Stark siblings, Arya and Brandon, then came Lyanna Mormont, Montery's Velaryon, Lyman Darry and the two Seaworth brothers, Maric and Devan.

A horn sounded from the walls of the castle as they entered the gates and once passing the darkness of its shadow, they were welcomed by the sight of the Tully Household in the yard.

Ser Barristan helped Daenerys and Daeron (he doesn't want to) to climbed down on their stirrups to meet the Tully's and instantly, as they both turned to look at them, the whole household went to their knees.

"Stand," said Daenerys, they all obliged, and she walks towards the head of the house, Lord Hoster Tully.

Lord Hoster Tully is an old man, she can see it plainly on the color of his hair and on the bare skin of his body. He is wearing a chainmail with the sigil of the leaping trout on its chest, he gave her a smile as he bowed down to kiss her hand.

"Lord Hoster," Daenerys forced a smile.

"Princess," he nodded, "and Prince Daeron," he messed up the hair of her nephew, emitting giggles from the little boy, "I welcome you to Riverrun, Your Highnesses, House Tully is at your command," he stooped low, though Daenerys can see him having a hard time.

She beckoned Daeron to answer in which her nephew swallowed a lump on his throat and in a small confident voice, he said, "Thank you Lord Hoster, we are looking forward for this visit."

Not refined enough, commented Daenerys to herself but she let it passed as she moves towards the next Tully.

Edmure Tully was indeed handsome, with an auburn hair and an even fiercer beard; she might have considered him as a match if Rhaegar agreed to the offer of Lord Tully. He is older than Jonothor but he is not as tall, she noticed as she waited for him to speak.

"I hope you'd had a comfortable journey, Princess Daenerys," he said after with a genuine smile, turning his face much younger, then he turned to Prince Daeron next, "I hope you enjoyed Riverlands, my prince, riders from Raventree Hall and Castle Darry told us about your adventures with your friends on your way here."

"I enjoyed it Lord Edmure," said the excited voice of the Prince, "I enjoyed it very much, thanks!"

"Well we should go inside, I've prepared us a feast to celebrate this visit," said Edmure Tully, his voice louder than the last time and Daenerys saw that he winked to his own niece and nephew, Arya and Bran.

The feast started and on the rafters of Riverrun's hall, the standard of House's Targaryen, Tully and Stark is hanging proudly. The hall are packed with the guest of Lord Tully, most of them are his bannermen.

Daenerys along with her nephew and his cousins are sitting below the lords table where Lord Hoster is seated. Ser Edmure Tully is also sitting beside her, talking about visiting Kings Landing soon.

"His Grace sent my father a letter," Edmure was saying, "I don't know what the contents of the letter was but my father told me that he will send me on his stead."

This intrigued Daenerys.

"Why? What is wrong with Lord Hoster?" she asked.

Edmure Tully leaned closer towards her.

"Father is sick," he told her in whisper, "he may not look like it but his condition is getting worse."

Daenerys nodded at that and she stole a glance to the old Lord Tully who's currently talking to Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell Whent. He looks well, at least that what she thought.

Halfway on the feast, a messenger arrived and it quickly made his way towards the side of Lord Hoster, giving him a sealed letter, Daenerys and Edmure turned to look at Lord Tully and she saw that his face turned confused and then sour as he read the letter, his eyes skimming every words. He stood up later on, folding the letter and he made his way towards her and his son.

"Princess, might you accompany us in my solar?" said Lord Tully, and Daenerys saw that he's holding back a rage on his face.

"Of course," agreed Dany, standing up from her seat along with Edmure. Before leaving, she told Ser Oswell to look after Daeron, then together with Ser Barristan, they made their way on the lords solar, a private chamber above the Great Hall of the castle and there, they waited.

Edmure Tully tried to ask questions about the sudden action of his father but Lord Hoster remained quiet, telling Edmure to wait.

Soon enough, a horn was blown outside the castle walls and Daenerys was sure that it's the party of her nephew Jonothor. She wanted to leave, but the seething look of Lord Tully made her to stay then after a few minites, they heard footsteps outside the private chamber and Daenerys heard some voices too, one of which is from her own nephew, Jonothor. His iron voice awakened something on the deepest part of her soul and her anticipation to seeing him is up to the roof.

There was a knock on the door before a servant led Jonothor, Robb Stark and the Lord Commander, Ser Arthur Dayne inside the private chamber.

Her eyes were fixed on the Crown Prince. Even though there is clearly tension in the air, Jonothor smiled his way to Lord Hoster, exchanging courtesies to both Tully's and when he turned to the opposite wall, to where she is seating, his face turned into a half smile.

Daenerys needed to control her urge to kiss him right where he is standing and as he made his way towards her, his eyes fixed only to her as if he's looking at her naked, she felt heady but she maintained her composure and tried to look at Robb Stark, who's now standing timidly in front of Lord Hoster, as if he's uncomfortable being in the presence of his grandfather.

Jonothor took the empty chair beside her while Ser Arthur stood beside Ser Barristan at the door. Edmure Tully is now standing beside Lord Hoster, the older Tully is looking at Robb Stark with a calculating look.

"You enjoyed your stay in Highgarden, Robb?" asked Lord Tully.

"Yes, grandfather," answered Robb Stark.

"Yeah, I was well informed about what's happening in Highgarden," said Lord Hoster, leaning on the chair, his eyes still fixed on his grandson.

"What is happening?" asked Dany to Jon, in which her nephew only shook his head with a sheepish smile.

"You'll know it soon enough," Jon answered in whisper.

"A rider from Wayfarers Rest arrived half an hour before your party arrived," said Lord Hoster, "Lord Vance wrote to me that you're riding with a girl?"

At the mention of a girl, Daenerys saw that the confidence of Robb Stark returned.

"Yes," answered Robb with a stiff voice, "Jeyne Westerling, I asked her to come with me."

"And why is that?" is the quick reply of Lord Hoster and Daenerys saw that Edmure has now questions on his face as well.

Robb straightened up.

"I will bring her to Winterfell," answered Robb, "I'm going to marry ---"

Lord Hoster suddenly stood up, his face full of rage.

"Marry? A Westerling?" he said, his voice mirrors the rage of his face, "you must be out of your mind, boy."

She was surprised when Jonothor spoke.

"My cousin have taken Lady Jeyne's maidenhead, my lord, the night after he named her the Queen of Love and Beauty," then he paused, "when he confided with me about his plans, I tried to reasoned with him but there's too much of Stark blood on his veins, he's as stubborn as mother and my uncle Ned."

Lord Hoster's gaze returned on his grandson.

"You're going to give away Winterfell to a house from Westerlands?" he said, his voice now in minimum but it still seeping with anger, "a house with more honor than wealth, poor and crumbling like their keep?" Lord Hoster paused, "your sister Sansa will be sent off to the Stormlands to marry Robert Baratheon's heir and do you know why, boy?"

Robb didn't answer.

"Because the peace that King Rhaegar's reign have given us is not yet secure," she was surprised to hear this, "your hand in marriage is one of the most coveted in the Seven Kingdoms... heir to Winterfell, my grandson, nephew to the Lady Lysa Arryn and Queen Lyanna and a companion to the Crown Prince, and you're going to waste it away for a Westerling? Tywin Lannister will laugh about this news," he shook his head with distaste, "his brother, Ser Kevan Lannister was approached by Lord Westerling do you know that? Asking for a betrothal, offering the same Jeyne to one of his sons and he refused," Lord Tully look around them, as if asking to help him knock some sense on Robb Stark, "and you, you great fool will marry her because you took her maidenhead?" he finished in an incredulous voice.

She saw that the back of Robb became tense and rigid and what came from his mouth surprised her while she noticed that the smile of Jon is now missing on his lips, it seems like her nephew is thinking something by the look on his face.

"You cannot stop me grandfather," came Robb's voice, with every conviction on his words, "Jeyne and I will ride to Winterfell at this moment; I know that we are not welcome to your hall, good day."

Just like that, Robb left the solar of Lord Tully.

All of them inside the chamber remained silent as the sound of Robb's boots faded away then Lord Tully took his seat, fuming with anger while Edmure made his way towards them.

"Shall we return to the feast?" he asked with uncomfortable voice.

Jonothor nodded and after standing up, he offered his hand to help her stand and she accepted, holding onto the rough and calloused hand of his nephew, remembering its grip from the nights they shared the bed.

They made their way back to the keep of the castle in silence where the feast is being held and Daenerys is wondering why her nephew is so quiet, he's not like this at all. As they took the last steps on the stair, she suddenly withdraws her hand from Jonothor from what she saw in front of her.

The Tyrell's, they are here and Margaery is talking to little Daeron and when Maid Margaery turned around, to look at Jon, the Tyrell girl quickly made her way towards them, Jon steps forward to meet her and she gave him a kiss on the lips then after, she walk towards her.

She wanted to slap them both but she remained frozen on her feet while Ser Edmure, the two Kingsguards and Jonothor finally joined the crowd, leaving her with Margaery.

"Princess," Margaery curtsied after making her way towards her, "Jon asked me to accompany him in the North."

Daenerys gave her a blank stare, but then wits came back to her when she saw the satisfied smile of Margaery's lips.

"Well, roses withers in the cold right? I think it's safer for you to stay below the Neck, my lady," she answered stiffly.

Margaery gave her a quizzical look then gave her a beaming smile.

"I think not," Margaery countered, "Jon is going to be there for me anyways, to share his warmth," she paused eyeing her, "shall we seat together? We haven't seen each other for a long time; I know we have so much to talk about."

The Tyrell girl suddenly reaches for the crook of her arm, locking it with hers.

"Come on Your Highness, we're going to be neighbors soon, after all," then she led the way on the feast and all that Daenerys wanted is to leave Riverrun just like Robb and his Lady Westerling.

Notes:

I just want to explain that Daenerys was brought to the private chamber not for the sake of "drama" in her part.. but because Lord Tully is still working on the betrothal of his grandson, Robb and he was hoping that his words will have an effect on both Dany and Robb. Well obviously it didn't so that's that. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 5: Tyrion I

Notes:

So someone asked about the ages of the major pov characters and here is the list and the current year of this au. The first seven characters are going to be major pov characters and those character's after Sansa will be minor pov characters.

Year: 297 AC

Jonothor 14
Tyrion 24
Griff 15
Daenerys 15
Daeron 7
Margaery 15
Sansa 12
--------
Robb 14
Tristifier 18
Barristan 46
Arianne 21
Ned 35
Cersei 32
Val 16
Bran 7

(I might add more characters on this list if a future chapter needs it on the story but for now this is the only list of pov's in the story)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The noise and smell of the city woke him up; stinking, hot and ugly, just like him. Tyrion was born a Lannister, not just some distant cousin or relative from Lannisport but the son of the mighty Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West and the Shield of Lannisport, who had been the Hand of the King of Aerys for twenty years and brought up a peace and fruitfulness in the realm that was never seen before.

The gods gave Lord Tywin twins by his wife and cousin, Lady Joana Lannister; Cersei and Jaime, both beautiful and marked with the Lannisters beauty on their blood. But two years after the birth of his twins, Tyrion came, taking the life of his own mother as he came into this world; a deformity to epic proportions, ugly with a head too big for his body, has stubby legs and a mismatch eyes. He was the last thing wanted by his father as well as his sister and half of the people living in the Seven Kingdoms as well.

He sat up with a groan, it seems that because of his heavy drinking last night in one of the brothels of Petyr Baelish where he is currently staying, he ended up sleeping on the garden, smelling of piss and filth.

"Someone!" he cried out as he tried lifting up his heavy head, "someone!" he cried out again and seconds later, Tyrion heard a shuffling in the establishment and then it turned into a footsteps making its way towards him.

"M'lord?" asked a voice, whom he recognized as the elderly whore, "what will you be needing?"

"Well get me away from here for starters," he said, he was annoyed by the stupid question and wondered if all whores are that dense but his voice only managed a croak and it even annoyed him more, "get me to a bed, in my chamber, now!"

"As you say, m'lord," said the whore and soon enough she disappeared and Tyrion was unconsciously lifted from the garden patch and brought to one of the better beds in the brothel where he is staying for the moment.

As he was laid in the bed, he dreamed of a summer a long time ago, when he was young, still ugly as ever but he was innocent and having a young man's adventure with his brother Jaime in Lannisport. He met Tysha that night, whom they saved being accosted by men in a lonely road near Lannisport. Jaime drove the men away, while Tyrion was left to take care of her. Tysha was a sweet maiden, a crofters daughter and orphaned. She was dark-haired, slender and beautiful, scarcely older than himself whom he married that same night with a drunken septon and pigs as witnesses.

They settled on a cottage near the Sunset Sea and it was the happiest days of Tyrion. When Tysha looked at him, he didn't saw hatred or curiosity on her eyes, like he is some kind of an animal and he was also sure there's no insult on that innocent eyes, instead, he only saw a wonder, then in the following days of their marriage life, he saw love, affection and admiration... but he knows that was too good to be true.

It was all a lie or at least that's what his brother and father had told him.

"She is a whore, paid, to make you a man, I'm sorry Tyrion," he remembered Jaime muttering while looking at the ground that night when they came to the hut they are living in, after just a few days of married life.

"Do you really think someone will love you?" said his father, who brought a dozen of his personal guards to fetch him from his dreams, the voice was cold, amused and dangerous, "you, who killed your mother and brought shame to the house of my fathers?"

They have taken her away from him just as quick as a babe being snatched on its mothers arms and worse of all is that the household knights of his father gang raped Tysha on the barracks of Casterly Rock, for each men, Lord Tywin Lannister paid Tysha a silver, Tyrion was forced to look as each of the knights took turns on her. To drive the lesson home, his father forced him to be the last man to take her and she was paid a gold coin.

"Because a Lannister were worth more," said his father after, his lips not smiling, but his eyes... it almost drove Tyrion to madness just looking at those cruel eyes.

Because a Lannister were worth more... Because a Lannister were worth more... Because a Lannister were worth more... Because a Lannister were worth more... Because a Lannister were worth more...

"How long has he been asleep?" he heard a familiar voice all of a sudden.

"Since morning, m'lady," answered the same whore who picked up his cries earlier outside the brothel.

"Well get a bucket of water, pour it on his face to wake him up, I can't stay longer in this filthy place," came the answer of the overfamiliar voice. Tyrion has an inkling feeling that she is trying to imitate their father and failing horribly.

'He sounded like a raging whore,' the thought amused him but then a few seconds later, he woke up from the bed with a gasp, wet and annoyed as ever, washing away the water on his face, his mood dark.

He glared at the man who poured him the bucket of cold water.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Tyrion, his voice rising and his face crossed, "you worthless piece of filth!"

He suddenly heard a laugh from the other side of the bed and when he turned to look who it was, his face turned sourer than ever.

"What are you doing here, Cersei?" he asked in distaste.

Cersei Lannister is now married to Robert Baratheon but she doesn't want to be called a Baratheon. He heard that Cersei said the same thing that their father said a long time ago, when someone called him Cersei Baratheon.

"Don't call me a Baratheon, a Lannister were worth more, much more."

"Oh, don't go making up things on your ugly humongous head, little brother," answered Cersei, staring down on him, "if father didn't asked me to come and talk to you, I wouldn't bother," then she turned to the elderly whore and the idiot man who carried the bucket of water, "get out."

The two quickly shuffled away, closing the door behind them, it was only after they heard them walking down the stairs that Cersei settled herself on the cushion opposite his bed.

Cersei is strikingly beautiful woman, even after birthing three children that unknown to all, was fathered by their brother Jaime and not Robert; with golden hair, emerald green eyes, fair skin and slender, graceful figure. Some might argue that she is even more beautiful than Queen Lyanna, but their brother Jaime disagreed, pointing out that Lyanna Stark is much more than their sister Cersei.

"I see that you are now living here in the brothel, that's better right?" she commented, her eyes gazing the ceiling and the walls of his room.

"Well, father commanded me to, who can argue with him?" he answered dully.

Lord Tywin fears that Tyrion, who's living in the castle that time might slip something with his loose tongue that will put them all in danger from one of the many feast being held at the Red Keep.

"Yeah, this place fits you," snarled her sister.

"If you're here to humiliate me, leave," snapped Tyrion in return, he can't exchange tirades with her, not now that his head is still buzzing with headache.

"Oh, I will gladly, but I came here to tell you that it's going to happen soon," said his sister, and all seriousness was now plastered on her face.

"When the King and Queen will leave for the North?" asked Tyrion curiously.

"Yes," she said with a satisfied smile, "but the real fun starts after the death of the Queen and the Crown Prince on their way back by the ship."

That has taken him back. Prince Jonothor too? He'll admit, even though their families are enemies, he came to like the Crown Prince because he treated him with respect and even joined drinking with him in one of the brothels in the past, that is one of the reasons of Lord Tywin why Tyrion was forced to stay in a brothel and pretend that he can't live without his whores much to the amusement of the whole city, because he's getting rather close to the enemy. He even parted drunken knowledge to Prince Jonothor one time, about girls and the way of life and Tyrion knows that Prince Jonothor will be a good king someday if he ever ascends the throne.

But the queen... he wonder which one.

"Which queen?" he asked, wondering if it's Queen Lyanna or the Queen Mother Rhaella.

"You'll know it soon enough," answered Cersei with feigned ignorance, "it will of course drive King Rhaegar to madness or that's what we hope and from all the commotion, he will be finally taken to his father."

"He?" Tyrion hates it when he is left in the side lines, with no knowledge of what's really going on.

"Oh you're really stupid," said her sister in a dry humor, "the Targaryen prince with a Martell blood."

Prince Aegon? Asked Tyrion to himself.

"You know I think the plan would be much better if they just kill King Rhaegar instead, rather than the Queen and the Crown Prince," said Cersei, she seems to be talking to herself, "of course it will be tragic but it will give us more opportunity to put the prince on the Iron Throne."

"What do you think the Stark's and their allies will say about that?" commented Tyrion, "the Crown Prince is betrothed to the Tyrell girl, Lady Catelyn Stark and Lady Lysa Arryn are the daughters of Lord Tully, Theon Greyjoy is a companion of the Crown Prince and Lord Stark's eldest daughter is going to be given to Elbert Arryn's heir."

Cersei gave a mirthless laugh at that.

"You are really stupid little brother," said Cersei, the smile still plastered on her lips and all that Tyrion wanted to do is to ripped it off from her face, "my husband wrote to his dear friend," she gave an overacting fake voice on the last two words, "Robert actually begged Eddard Stark for the hand of his first daughter, who's probably just as ugly like all the Starks and that stupid Ned Stark agreed!" she gave another laugh, like it's the last thing she has to do in this world, "Sansa Stark's hand is now promised to Joffrey, and don't be too sure with the allegiance of the Iron Islands, they are ironborn, it's in their blood to be a turncloak."

"How did you know all of this?" asked Tyrion, who's now more puzzled than ever.

His sister now stood up.

"Father trusts me," she answered him.

The two of them had a staring game for a few seconds before Tyrion asked the most important question that had been nagging him all these years since this plotting has started.

"What do we get from all of these?" He asked her, "did father bargain less than what the Lannister's were worth?"

Cersei shook his head in disbelief.

"Hand of the King, a place in the court, Jaime's release on his duties as a Kingsguard, Myrcella's hand," answered his sister with a triumphant grin, "and more... much more. Lannister always pay their debts, I think you ought to know it by now, Tyrion," she paused, staring at him in a disgusted way, "now, don't go drinking with strangers, father promised that if you let loose of this plan, he's going to behead you himself and blame you for hatching the plan in your own," she rolled her eyes, "I'll be going now, Jaime is waiting for me."

Blame me? Tyrion said to himself, appalled by the words of his sister. So that's my purpose, if ever something awry happens on their plan, he will be the one to receive the pointy end. It only made him angrier and he doesn't know if it's to his father or to his whore of a sister.

Cersei was already on the door when a question suddenly sprang up on his big head.

"Does Jaime know all of these?" he asked her but he thinks he already knows the answer.

Cersei turned back to him, her face now annoyed.

"Are you mad?" she said, her hateful face, much to the chagrin of Tyrion, looks beautiful too, "Jaime is as innocent as the King and Queen," then she finally left him.

The thought of the coming battles made him uneasy and it didn't give him sleep that night and when the morning came, he's as grumpy as ever.

When he took his breakfast downstairs in the common hall, along with his sellsword companion named Bronn, a whore gave him a letter bearing the sigil of a mockingbird.

'Baelish?' he asked himself. He quickly opened it and read the contents carefully.

'The King wants to see you here in my apartments inside the Red Keep.'

'This morning, so you better take a bath and get dressed.'

"What the fock is it?" said Bronn, eyeing him after.

"This fock is not of your concern," he dismissed him with a dry mood and the sellsword must have caught the tone of his voice.

"Yo' know the solution of yo' problem mate? Get y'self drunk and fock three or four girls tonight," he paused, drinking on his smoking goblet, "go on, you can start now if you want."

"Bronn, it's morning, if you care enough to look at the windows," said Tyrion feeling grumpier than ever.

"The fock is morning? I drink smoking ale now and I just finished focking a girl when yo' came down to get y'self a breakfast," countered the sellsword, "I killed a man a thousand times in the morning and I travel from place to place in the morning."

Tyrion just rolled his eyes. Bronn is as stupid as these whores working in this brothel.

"I have a royal command to see the King this morning," he told the sellsword, "now, did you ever have been given a royal command by a king to see him in the morning?" he paused, observing the face of the sellsword and when Bronn shook his head, "that's what I thought," he added and after gulping a clear water, he waddled out of the common room of the brothel.

He bath as suggested by Petyr Baelish and changed to his best clothes, after all, he's going to be in the presence of the king.

Before leaving, he look at himself in the mirror and wished that he didn't, after seeing his reflection and what he thought was his best doublet, he has now a nagging feeling at the back of his overlarge head that the tunic and breeches that he is wearing are too big for him. With a disappointed shake of his head, he finally left the brothel.

The way to the Red Keep was not easy even though he is riding a huge horse and has Bronn leading the animal by the reins.

"Make way! Make way! Make way for Tyrion of House Lannister!"

But the crowd seems to be ignoring the sellsword entirely, they didn't even bothered to make it easy for them to pass through. Tyrion suspected that it's because House Lannister sided with the wrong side on the recent war. He was still a boy when it happened and he was left in Casterly Rock during those times, wishing that his father and sister would not bother him again and never come back but when the news from the Capital arrived at the rookery of the Rock, that King Aerys was slain by his brother Jaime, and his father was lost in the field against Lord Stark, Tully and Arryn, he knows that it will damage the reputation of their house forever and that's one of the reasons why Lord Tywin wants a revenge of sort against the Stark's, the Tully's and the Arryn's.

"A Lannister always pay their debts," he heard Lord Tywin when he started receiving letters from Sunspear and Storms End, hatching a plan to depose King Rhaegar and his council.

At last, for what seems like eternity, he finally arrived at the Red Keep. A stable boy has taken his horse and he walked side by side with Bronn as they made their way towards the apartments of Lord Petyr Baelish.

Tyrion doesn't trust Littlefinger, he knows that he is an ambitious man, and men like him are dangerous. As far as he knows, only the Grand Maester is the man of House Lannister on the Small Council and he wondered if Littlefinger is working for them. As they made the final turn on the corner of the building, leading to the corridor of the Master of Coin, Tyrion saw that Ser Richard Lonmouth of the Kingsguard was already outside the door, signaling that the King is already inside so he fasten his pace leaving Bronn behind, even though he's waddling uglier than ever, the Kingsguard nodded at him and opened the door for him.

"Lord Tyrion, Your Grace," said the knight.

Tyrion entered and inside, King Rhaegar is standing at the opposite side of the door, Littlefinger seems to be talking but he stopped when he entered.

King Rhaegar is wearing a doublet of the color of his wife's house, tight breaches belted by a dragonhide scales and leather boots. His silver long hair is knotted behind him and Tyrion wished that the king is not staring at him, that purple eyes always unnerves him. On the other side, the Maester of Coin is looking at him with a blank stare; him and Littlefinger looks like a beggar in the presence of the king.

"Ah, Lord Tyrion," said the iron voice of the king, offering a quick smile, "thank you for troubling yourself to come here."

"It's my pleasure to be at your service, Your Grace," Tyrion answered with a polite voice.

"Indeed," agreed Littlefinger with a nod but Tyrion noticed that King Rhaegar's eyes never left his, as if reading his mind.

The King could have not known the schemes of his father and the Martell's against them right? Tyrion tried to assured himself... or maybe King Rhaegar already knows about the plan and their father and the Martells have blamed him for it. Tyrion swallowed a lump on his throat, clearing his throat so that his voice will not come out as hoarse.

"So you called for me, Your Grace?" he asked speaking lightly.

To his relief, King Rhaegar nodded and beckoned for him to sit. They all did, on the modest table of Littlefinger at the corner of the room. Tyrion is sitting beside Littlefinger while the king is sitting opposite to them.

"I called for you, Lord Tyrion, because I have a favor to ask," said the king.

Tyrion exchange a quick glance to Littlefinger before meeting the stare of King Rhaegar.

"Anything, Your Grace," he answered, wondering what this favor might be.

King Rhaegar studied him and Tyrion wondered why the king doesn't look disgusted looking at his ugly face.

"This is rather hard task, Lord Tyrion," said the king, "it will require you to leave the city but if you return with a positive result," the king paused, looking at him intently, "I'm going to release you as my ward and you can finally return to Casterly Rock but if you fancy anything other than going back to your father, just name it and I will give it to you; a place in my court and council, a proper match for marriage, anything you want."

Tyrion was shocked, what could be this favor? And he'll admit, it was tempting especially the part of the proper match for marriage.

"And what will be this task, Your Grace?" he asked and the king answered at once.

"You will travel to Sunspear, bearing my personal message to Prince Doran, this message is about my son to Princess Elia, you heard about him I suppose?" asked the king.

"Prince Aegon," Tyrion nodded, his head now buzzing with information.

"I have never seen him, Princess Elia gave birth to Aegon in Sunspear," explained the king, "every time Aegon's name day arrives, I sent him gifts, and on his eight name day, I was supposed to see him in secret but Prince Oberyn put the negotiation between myself, Prince Doran and Princess Elia to an end and since then any negotiations for me to see him, was put to rest immediately. The only thing you need to do, Lord Tyrion is to try and convince them, to let Aegon visit me here in Kings Landing, to meet his brothers."

Tyrion let the words of the king sink in, digesting everything and he noticed that the King is watching him closely but then Littlefinger spoke.

"Your Grace, you're going to give a complicated task like this to Tyrion? His reputation will surely precede him, might be one of the members of the council be more suitable to do this task, Lord Jon Arryn perhaps?"

"And what is that reputation you're talking about, Lord Baelish," snapped Tyrion, his face reddening.

Littlefinger gave a feigned surprise.

"I don't mean to offend you, Tyrion, but you are a drunk and you are staying in one of my brothels," answered Littlefinger with the slightest of his smirk, "Prince Doran might think the Crown is insulting them by sending you, a man half the size of his youngest son."

Tyrion glared at Littlefinger, hating him even more.

"Lord Baelish," said the king, taking the attentions of them both, "I believe Lord Tyrion will prove himself on this task," then the king paused, eyeing Tyrion, "I think he is a giant come among us."

Tyrion was never called a giant in his lifetime, and he gave a look of wonder to the king, as if waiting for him to laugh at that jest but King Rhaegar remained motionless, his eyes on him.

"If you say so, Your Grace," came the voice of Littlefinger, "but you must agree with me to send men with Tyrion? Powerful men, I suppose."

"Lord Tyrion is not going alone, Lord Baelish, at that we can agree," answered King Rhaegar at once, his eyes now on the ambitious man, "I wrote to Lord Tully and I asked that his son and heir, Ser Edmure will accompany Lord Tyrion on this voyage."

"Edmure?" asked Littlefinger, genuinely surprised, "can I ask the reason behind this, Your Grace? Because I think a party of the sons of Lord Tywin and Lord Hoster is still not enough and I have always been close to the Tully's, I consider Edmure as a brother."

That sounded authentic to Tyrion's ears, but he knows that Littlefinger was just milking information's that he's going to sell maybe to the Martell's or to his father, whichever he's working for, after this talk.

"My brother Viserys might not return from his voyage and I've insulted the Martell's enough but Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Whent and Lord Hoster told me that there is another way, although it seems to be a futile task but we should try nonetheless," he paused, side glancing at Tyrion, "Princess Arianne's weakness are handsome men and Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully has Harrold Arryn and Edmure Tully to give as a possible match but since Harrold Arryn have taken a liking to marry Sansa Stark, only Edmure remains."

"So you hope, Your Grace, that the Martell princess will take Edmure as her husband?" asked Tyrion, "I don't think that's a good plan."

"Indeed," agreed Littlefinger, "a Tully can never replace a Targaryen, Your Grace, I think it will be more of an insult to the Martell's if the heiress of their house will run away with a Tully."

This time, the king studied the face of Littlefinger and Tyrion was satisfied to see the confidence of the man, burning away with the unnerving look of the king.

"That's why I said it's a futile attempt, Lord Baelish," said King Rhaegar, his voice stiff, "I promised you that Ser Edmure's hand in marriage is as coveted as the other heirs of other Great House's and the Tully's haven't failed me yet."

That was the end of that discussion.

"When will I go, Your Grace?" asked Tyrion after a minute of silence.

"After our return from the North," answered the king, his gaze now on Tyrion, "so you will accept?"

Tyrion nodded.

"I think it's time for me to do something important," he added trying himself to smile.

King Rhaegar only nodded but then his stupid head suddenly realized something and the king saw it on his face.

"What's the problem, Lord Tyrion?" he asked.

Should I say it? Tyrion asked himself, side glancing at the curious look of Littlefinger.

"My king, does Her Grace knows about this plan?" he said almost in whisper and Tyrion is wondering where he got all this bravery to ask stupid questions, it must be the Lannister blood.

"She knows," answered the king, "I'm really lucky to have a wife like Lyanna, she gave me strong sons, one of which is a sweet boy, the other," he shook his head with a sheepish smile on his lips, "the other might have become a problem to us in the recent years because of his urges but nonetheless, he's a good son, Jonothor has a good heart like his mother," then the king paused, "you might have a wife like Lyanna someday Lord Tyrion, we never actually know what the gods have in store for us."

After their talk, His Grace finally left them. Once the king and Ser Richard Lonmouth are safely away, Littlefinger let out a cackle.

"Our king says the truth," said Littlefinger, "we never actually know what the gods have in store for us," then he paused, turning to Tyrion with a look of hidden distaste, "might you want something to eat?"

Tyrion shook his head, thinking that he's likely to be poisoned by this sly man.

"No thanks," answered Tyrion, "I'm off to visit my brother Jaime."

Littlefinger nodded and before Tyrion was able to move, he called for a servant.

"Griff," Littlefinger said the name as if the servant was just there with them on his room and much to Tyrion's surprise, a young servant appeared suddenly out from nowhere and when he turned to look at the young man, he noticed that the servant is handsome, with a blue hair and a clean shaven face. Tyrion has an inkling feeling that he had seen this boy before, or at least his face is familiar.

"This is Griff," introduced Littlefinger, "he works in the brothel and now a favorite to Lord Connington," then Littlefinger gave him in intent look, "he will soon rise---"

"Spare me the details of your pleasure boy rising into power in the bed of the Hand, Lord Baelish" Tyrion cut him off, "I have better things to do than listen to your power grabbing tendencies," Tyrion paused, looking at the handsome boy, "be careful around Lord Baelish, he tends to use anything and anyone to get what he wants."

Much to the surprise of Tyrion, the blue haired lad returned his gaze and for the second time that morning, he felt unnerve by the stare of someone.

"I know that, my lord," said the boy.

Tyrion studied his face and realized that he must be dornish then looking at him intently, Tyrion saw the similarities of his appearance to the Targaryens, but he knows that's unlikely. Petyr Baelish might have commissioned the boy from across the narrow sea, because he knows that Lord Connington loves handsome young boys. Tyrion suspects that the boy came from Lys, where the blood of old Valyria is still prominent.

"How old are you boy?" he asked, "are you by chance the Martell prince with a Targaryen name?" he intended that to be a jest but Littlefinger suddenly straightened up.

"Now, how can he be Prince Aegon, Tyrion, the council would know if the first born son of the King is in the city," he said. Tyrion smiled wickedly at Littlefinger and when he turned to look at the handsome boy, he saw that his eyes are purple too then it hit him with such a force that his mouth was left gaping, his brow furrowed as he studied the face of the blue haired lad more intently than ever.

He heard that in the Tourney at Harrenhal, it was not only King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna who fell in love with each other. Brandon Stark, the heir of House Stark back then have taken to bed the beautiful Ashara Dayne, who has a haunting violet eyes and when Cersei married Robert right here in Kings Landing, it was said that Lady Ashara is already carrying Brandon's child back then.

He can't be Prince Aegon Targaryen, he agrees with Littlefinger with that and Cersei said the bastard son of the King visited Storm's End recently.

Could this be the lovechild between Brandon and Ashara? Tyrion asked himself but then the Dayne's of Starfall are Stoney dornishmen and the skin of this boy is a little bit darker.

"Griff came from the lands across the narrow sea," said Littlefinger, eyeing Tyrion as if dismissing any questions of identity, "I got him from one of the pleasure houses in Lys."

"Ah, that's why you have a tint of Valyrian around you," said Tyrion, his guess about the boy being commissioned by Littlefinger across the narrow sea was proven correct, "well I must be off now, I'll see you around."

He waddled away, leaving Littlefinger and the young blue haired lad behind him. His head is starting to ache with all these information that buzzing on his mind. Littlefinger is indeed ambitious man if he is really using the boy as a spy to the Lord Hand.

"What focking happened--"

"Don't say anything," said Tyrion, cutting off Bronn once he was finally outside, "please, I think I'm going to be sick."

He was glad that Bronn obliged.

He's getting more obedient, noticed Tyrion as they made their way on the yard and to the stables of the castle when all of a sudden, they saw Ser Arthur Dayne, who looks to be weary of travel.

"Lord Commander," greeted Tyrion.

He always thought that Ser Arthur is approachable.

"Lord Tyrion," nodded the knight, stopping on his steps, "I just arrived from Riverrun, Prince Jonothor's party are now making their way to the Neck."

"So you'll be leaving with the King and the Queen soon?" asked Tyrion curiously.

"I think not," answered the knight, "Queen Lyanna would like Prince Daeron to enjoy the North that's why they sent them on their way earlier than what we planned," the knight paused, "and the wedding of Domeric Bolton will be held in three months time."

Tyrion nodded at that and then his loose tongue seems to get the better of him, it was itching, wanting to ask a question and the Lord Commander seems to notice that on his face.

"What is it, Lord Tyrion?" asked Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Oh it's just nothing, Ser," answered Bronn for him, "he's been dying to return to the brothel, that's why."

Ser Arthur Dayne gave the smallest of smile then he nodded.

"Well I better not keep you any longer," he said then the Lord Commander made his leave, he was already a few steps away from them when Tyrion finally willed himself to speak.

"Lord Commander," he called out and Ser Arthur Dayne stopped and turned to look at him, "do you have any notion with the location of your nephew, the bastard son of Brandon Stark?"

Ser Arthur Dayne's face seems confused by the sudden question about his nephew, bastard or not.

"He is living at High Hermitage, training under Ser Gerold Dayne and frequently visits his mother at Starfall from time to time," answered Ser Arthur, "why are you inquiring about my nephew, Lord Tyrion?"

"Nothing," said Tyrion, wishing he just kept his mouth shut, now he will be forced to explain, "I-I-I just thought I had seen him here in Kings Landing," Tyrion paused, while shaking his head with a credulous smile, "I'm off now, Ser. Good day."

The little lion of House Lannister will never know that he's the reason why the life of Queen Lyanna, the unborn baby inside her belly and Prince Jonothor was saved, thwarting the plans of the Martell's and Lord Tywin with the words of his tongue.

Notes:

Another thing! I don't have beta reader and I'm sorry that there's always a typo on my writing. As I mentioned in the Dragon Prince and the Wolf Maiden, english is not my first language so there's going to be a lot of typo around here and talking about the first part of this series... for those readers who already finished reading TDPATWM... I italicized some words here that can give you an idea about the real identity of Griff. That's all, next chapter is going to be Sansa's. See y'all next monday pacific time.

Chapter 6: Sansa I

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sansa Stark was braiding her hair in front of the mirror when she heard laughter on the yard below her room. It's been a fortnight since the arrival of her cousins and her brother Robb. The early arrival of her eldest brother was not a surprised to them because her grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun wrote to her father in anger, saying that Robb have left Riverrun without his consent and he disrespected him while under his roof and that a 'lowborn daughter of a minor lord have bewitch his mind.'

Lord Eddard was furious upon reading the letter and he sent the Captain of the guards, the old Martyn Cassel to meet Robb and this 'lowborn lady' and four days before the arrival of the Crown Prince's party, Robb and his small number of companions arrived that includes the Karstark brothers, Daryn Hornhood and Cley Cerwyn. There are also others with him, a knight with brown hair and a bushy mustache, engraved on his surcoat are the six white shells on a sand colored field who's roughly older than Robb and a boy, who looks to be the younger version of the knight except that he is only nine years old, who's bearing the same standard as the knight. Last of them, the 'lowborn daughter' of a lord was finally introduced.

It turns out that it was Lady Jeyne, of House Westerling from Westerlands. She and Robb are of the same age and the knight and the boy are her brothers named Ser Raynald and Rollam Westerling.

Sansa saw that Jeyne Westerling was a shy girl, pretty but she pales in comparison to Princess Daenerys, whom she thought Robb will marry someday. She is slender of posture, has chestnut curls, a heart shape face and pretty brown eyes.

Robb nervously introduced the Westerlings to their father and mother and even baby Rickon was looking at the new arrivals with confusion. Her mother welcomed them warmly, and offered rooms in the castle but the Westerling knight refused; whom Sansa caught was looking warily at her father.

"I thank you, Lady Stark," said Ser Raynald, "but my siblings and I will just stay outside Winterfell, in Winter Town."

Her father, Lord Eddard caught the stiff voice of the knight and Sansa even saw that Lady Jeyne is teary eyed from the cold look of the Stark patriarch.

"I insist that you stay with us here inside Winterfell," said Lord Eddard finally after a long dread of contemplation, "you are Robb's guest," then he offered a smile to the teary eyed Lady Westerling, "and it will be insulting for us not to be showered by the beauty of Lady Jeyne."

At that, Robb smiled and even Jeyne looks less nervous. Sansa was surprised that her father still have some words of courtesy left on him and they entered the Great Hall after, a small feast was prepared for them and she saw that Robb sat with Lady Jeyne and her brothers, laughing with Ser Raynald, messing the hair of Rollam and kissing Lady Jeyne on the cheeks.

"Why is Robb kissing the girl?" asked Rickon at the start of the feast.

They are sitting just below the lords table.

"Because she's going to be his wife," whispered Sansa but it seems like her younger brother didn't understand, after all, he is still a little boy.

That night, Robb requested a meeting with their mother and father, he even said that Sansa can come and she did because she wants to know more about the Westerling's. The meeting was held at the lord's chamber, in their parent's own room. Sansa was sitting beside her mother, Lady Catelyn, they are both facing Lady Jeyne and her brother Robb across the table while Lord Eddard is standing still at the edge of the room, looking outside the window. Ser Raynald was standing at the door while Rollam is standing timidly beside his sister.

After a few minutes of silence, Robb finally spoke.

"Rollam is going to be my squire from now on," he said, "and Ser Raynald will enter my service as well."

"Why?" it's the voice of their father.

Sansa already knows the answer.

"I'm going to marry Jeyne," answered Robb, "I hope you will give us your blessings."

When all of a sudden, Lady Catelyn sobs, Sansa comforted her mother by holding her hand while Lord Eddard finally turned to look at them.

"Are you pregnant, Jeyne?" asked Lord Eddard in which Lady Westerling only shook her head, "does your lord father knows?"

"I sent him a letter, Lord Stark, when we are still at Highgarden," answered Ser Raynald for his sister, "I know they will consent. Robb is chivalrous and honorable; my sister will be a good wife to him."

There was a silence.

"We love each other, Lord Stark," Sansa was surprised to hear Jeyne's voice for the first time, it sounded nervous, "the first time I saw him, I just knew but I didn't expected that he feels the same way, considering that he's a Stark and I'm only a Westerling, I never knew that he's going to feel the same way as I am."

Lady Catelyn blew her noise from a small cloth and nodded her head, standing up and made her way to Lady Jeyne.

"Well it seems I'm going to have a new daughter," she said and the two of them embraced, both have tears on their eyes.

Sansa smiled at Jeyne for the first time when she caught her eyes looking at her.

"Welcome to the family, Jeyne," she said lightly.

That was the end of the discussion about Robb's elopement to Jeyne Westerling and in a blink of an eye, another member was added to their family. Their wedding will be held after the arrival of Bran and Arya. Her mother want's that all of them are present to the special event.

Sansa wondered that night, on her bed if Lady Cersei will be as accepting as her mother and when she closed her eyes, she dreamed of a man who turned into a lion, it was a wild savage thing and when he saw Sansa looking, he chased her down and Sansa run, as fast as her feet can carry her. The lion leapt and caught her by her right foot, making her stumble down on the ground and when she turned on her back, she saw that the lion's fang is bared, whimpering and scared, she tried getting away from it but the lion grew more menacing than ever, his great mane seems to be growing as well and when the wild beast was about to devour her, she cried out, covering her face with her hands, waiting for the vicious bite of sharp teeth but it didn't came and when she opened her eyes, she saw a man holding a spear, who killed the lion and when he turned to look at Sansa, he changed into a flame blinding her from the sudden light and the last thing she heard before she woke up are heavy wings that sounded so close.

'A strange dream,' she thought after she woke up from her nightmare.

That was also the day of the arrival of the Crown Prince and his retinue of knights and ladies that include added visitor's from Highgarden much to the distress of her mother, because now they are now going to accommodate much more than what they expected. Old rooms in the castle were scrubbed to clean, the servants work tirelessly to light the fire on the hearth on each one of them to make the walls warm and days before the arrival of the party, she heard that Lord Wyman Manderly is planning to stage a tourney.

"The Tyrell's have staged a great and successful tourney when Prince Jonothor visited them and the Crown Prince party are only a dozen of his friends that time," the fat man paused, patting her father at the back gently and looking at Lady Catelyn as if asking her to support him on his idea, "my lord, our visitors are more than a dozen, much more and this time it includes Princess Daenerys and Lady Margaery Tyrell, the future queen of Westeros, come on Ned, we need to make a good impression."

Her father's face turned sour and almost annoyed and when he spoke, his voice mirrors his mood.

"Damn you Wyman, well if you really want to impress these visitors of ours then I'm going to give only a quarter of the money that will be spent on this grand tourney you're planning," said their father much to the delight of Sansa, "and it will be staged at White Harbor, not here in Winterfell."

Lord Wyman gave a cheerful laugh, "I was afraid you're going to say Winterfell will have no part in it, Ned," said the fat lord, "all right, it's settled then."

It was not the first time that the three Targaryen's have visited Winterfell. Princess Daenerys have visited them four times already, while Prince Daeron twice more than that. But Prince Jonothor, the Crown Prince grew up in Winterfell as much as in Kings Landing and she even heard him tell her father, Lord Eddard Stark that once ascending the throne, he's going to rule the Seven Kingdoms here from the North.

"My grandfather have done it in the past," said the Crown Prince back then, oblivious to the surprised looks of the servants and even her mother, Lady Catelyn at the mention of King Aerys, "he travelled to Casterly Rock and ruled there for half a year, if what Maester Pycelle said is true."

She saw her father shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

"Nephew, King Aerys is a different man," answered Lord Eddard, "and the other lords might think that you are favoring House Stark too much."

Sansa remembered the face of her cousin back then, they are all at the Great Hall of Winterfell, she saw that Jonothor's face was kind of amused, as if it's the first time that his ideas were dismissed by someone.

"Uncle," countered Jonothor, "Robb will rule Winterfell after you, and Robb quite likes the idea of the whole South paying respect to Winterfell as well as the southron ladies that my cousin fancies too much," he gave Robb a mischievous grin and her brother returned it with a half-smile, shaking his head half drunk, "and besides, my mother is a Stark," the prince paused with a frowning face, "your own sister, do you remember Lyanna?"

The frown quickly changed into laugh and all of the people inside the Great Hall laughed with the Crown Prince. The companions of the prince, the servants, the guards and even Lady Catelyn have an amused smile on her lips.

Lord Eddard shook his head, a grin tugging on his lips.

"Jon," said her father, using the nickname of her cousin, a sign that he's going to prove a point, "I'm the Lord of Winterfell as long as I live and you're not the king as long as His Grace is alive and if you care to listen to Maester Pycelle, Stark's and Targaryen's live very long."

There was another roar of laughter and that time, Jon was gaping at his uncle, surprised that he countered his tirade.

A long time ago, muttered Sansa to herself, the memory still bring smile on her lips, it seems like we are all different people now. Robb is now married while her cousin Jonothor is now betrothed to Lady Margaery and I'm leaving for Storms End soon.

"Sansa!" she heard the voice of her best friend and all of a sudden, Jeyne Poole barges in inside her room, "Sansa, come, they brought five pups, one for each of you."

Jeyne is the only daughter of Valon Poole, the steward of Winterfell. She has brown eyes, dark hair and very pretty and as she catch her breath, Sansa couldn't help herself but smile at her.

'I hope Arya acts more like her,' she thought for a second.

"What do you mean, Jeyne?" she asked her, "what pups?"

"Direwolf pups!" she exclaimed, "Bran's got one, Arya, Robb and even little Rickon... Prince Daeron wanted one but there are only five from the litter, and Prince Jonothor pointed out that he is not a Stark."

"Well he is half Stark," countered Sansa as she gave one last glance on the mirror.

Her auburn hair was now braided and she puts on a warm cloak to protect her from the last nights snow.

"Well, let's go and see my direwolf pup then," she said to her best friend and then the two of them finally made their way at the Great Hall to find nothing of the pups but only the servants cleaning and scrubbing the muddy floor.

"They must be on the yard," said Jeyne and Sansa nodded her head.

The two of them made their way outside and there, they heard noises coming from her siblings Arya and Bran.

"Sansa!" it was Arya who noticed her first.

Her younger sister Arya, is quite the opposite of her. While Sansa has a keen interest in music, poetry, singing, dancing, embroidery and other traditional feminine activities, Arya on the other hand is only interested at riding horses and making her hair into a tangle of mess. The servants at Winterfell said that Arya and their aunt, the Queen looks very much alike when Queen Lyanna was her age and they even mentioned that they have the same interest in horses, Hullen even announced to the other servants that it means Arya will marry a prince that will be a king someday and is going to run away just like what their aunt Lyanna did with King Rhaegar but Sansa dismissed that thought, telling herself that it's unlikely that Arya is going to marry a prince that will be a king because their cousin Jonothor is now betrothed to Lady Margaery Tyrell.

'Unless there's going to be another king,' said Sansa inside her head, picturing herself to be a queen rather than her sister, with a handsome Targaryen king that has the purple eyes of Jon.

The only ones left on the yard is Bran and Arya, a few younger servants and Hodor, who are all looking at something huddled on Bran's arms and it was Arya who quickly picked up a ball of fur from a towel on the ground.

"Sansa, here's your pup," said Arya now carrying a small puppy with a grey fur. Sansa gasped in delight when the little thing was finally on her arms, holding it carefully as if a baby, "she's the smallest from the litter."

"She is the cutest," cooed Sansa and Jeyne nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to go inside," said their brother Bran, who smiled at her with a satisfied grin, "best cover them Sansa and Arya, I think they are cold."

Arya and Sansa nodded at that and she politely asked Jeyne to fetch her warm towels in which the other girl obliged.

"Here's mine, look!" exclaimed Arya after Jeyne left and when she turned to look at the direwolf of her sister, she saw a bigger pup, with the same grey fur like hers, "I'm going to name her Nymeria, after Queen Nymeria of Rhoyne."

Sansa smiled at that, thinking of a name to her pup too.

"I'm going to name this one as, Lady," she said.

"Lady? What a boring name," scowled Arya.

"No it's not!" she exclaimed in return.

"Yes it is!" her sister bellowed louder and she chased her, both of them carrying their direwolf pups on their arms as they run but her sister is a runner and she is not.

"I'm going to get you soon!" she cried out at the top of her lungs,

She returned to her chambers after that, the puppy still tucked in on her arms, covered with towels. She knows that after the morning hours, Winterfell will be crowded once again because of their many guest that includes the very beautiful but somber looking Princess Daenerys with her magnificent cloaks to cover her from the cold, the three Westerling siblings, the Lady Margaery, Ser Garlan and Willas Tyrell, some members of the Tyrell's from junior branch, three of which are a companions of Margaery and one is a boy, a squire to Ser Garlan, the rest of the Crown Prince's companion and the rest of Prince Daeron's friends and the Reed siblings too.

"It was never like this in Winterfell," she heard Old Nan say one night.

And the old woman was right, even some of their guests are acting oddly. Harrold Arryn, her own cousin and one of the companions of the prince, is unusually giving her gifts and during feast, he would ask her for a dance. Drunk and clumsy but strong, he would whisper things on Sansa's ear, like his mother, her own aunt Lysa wants her to visit the Vale.

Sansa knows that Lord Jon Arryn wanted her to betroth to Harrold and her father considered the match. Harrold Arryn is a handsome blond young man, a mirror of his own father, Elbert who's a great friend to her father and her late uncle Brandon.

Prince Jonothor and Princess Daenerys also seem to be distant with each other; Sansa didn't even see them together yet which is weird because they are really close back on her visit at Kings Landing in the past years. Margaery Tyrell on the other hand are inviting her for walks almost every day and today was no exception because she's invited again for an afternoon walk in the godswood of the castle.

She'll admit, she enjoyed the company of Margaery and her cousins Megga, Elinor and Alla.

"Flowers from the lower part of the bush," said Margaery talking about her cousins, "they are going to be my handmaidens once Jonothor ascends the throne."

Margaery was like the kind of sister that she wants to have. The Tyrell girl is witty and knows exactly what she likes. Sansa likes Ser Garlan's way of talking and Willas Tyrell too, who's always the topic from her talks with Margaery.

"He is gentle Sansa, studious, educated and kind," said Maergery once, "and besides, he is the heir of House Tyrell," she paused with a wicked grin on her face, "do you want to visit Highgarden? After your visit with the Baratheon's of course, Stormlands lies close to the Reach, you'll love it there, I know you would. Highgarden sits atop a hill, and the castle is surrounded by flowers and fields of ripe peach and watermelons, every night, there would be a new ministrel in the Great Hall, singing about love and chivalry while there's also a side of the castle that sits beside the river Mander, you could go sailing across the river and watch the sunsets in the west," then she paused, giving her a knowing look, "while Storm Ends sits on a cliff facing the sea, all year round violent storms hit the castle, be there for a day and you'll smell like a fish," she shook her head quite disappointedly, "you deserve the sun, after being in the cold of the North for twelve years not the windy and salt smelling stag."

Sansa wanted to do just that, Highgarden seems to be one of the castles in her dreams. Warm with the sun atop the sky, full of flowers and singers and the chivalry of the south, she decided then to talk to her lord father and lady mother about it tonight after the feast.

She tasked Jeyne Poole to guard her sleeping puppy on her bed when the afternoon arrives and she made her way to the godswood alone, past the crowded Great Hall and to the yard that seems to be overflowing with people to see Margaery and once there, Sansa was surprised to see Willas Tyrell, observing the face of the heart tree, while the Tyrell girl is sitting from one of the huge upturned roots of the ancient tree.

"Lady Sansa," it was Margaery who noticed her first.

Willas turned to look at her after his sister mentioned her name. The Tyrell heir is eight years older than her brother Robb and she wonders why he is still unmarried. Willas Tyrell might not look like as handsome as the prince, but there is something good natured on his smiling face as Sansa slowly made her way towards them.

"Ah, Sansa you look very pretty," said Lady Margaery, "isn't she, Willas?"

Willas Tyrell made his way towards them; he is wearing a gold doublet made of wool under a fine green cloak, brown breeches and leather boots, letting his shoulder length brown hair to fall on his back with the badge of golden rose of House Tyrell pinned on his chest. While Margaery is wearing a long gown of green, underneath a black cloak with specks of gold on its hem.

"Yes indeed," answered Willas, "Lady Sansa, the heart tree of Winterfell is almost frightening, but I'll admit, it has a certain beauty about it, I never thought I'm going to see it with my own eyes," he paused, "I mean I've only read about them in the books"

Sansa smiled at that.

"Father is always praying here," she found her own voice, "I didn't thought that a southerner will appreciate the tree, my lord," she said politely.

"Margaery mentioned that you want to visit Highgarden?" asked Willas as he helped his sister to stand up.

Sansa turned to look at Margaery who seems to be watching them both.

"Yes, I like to but I haven't mentioned it to my father and my mother yet," Sansa replied.

"They must consent for you to go right?" said Margaery, "I mean you're only going to visit Highgarden and besides, you are not betrothed to Joffrey yet."

She shook her head at that.

"Father is very strict, Lady Margaery," she reasoned, "it will take a lot of convincing for him to let me go."

"Well I can be a very persuasive person, Lady Sansa," answered Margaery with a wicked smile, "I'll talk to Lord Stark about it."

Sansa nodded and she turned towards Willas, because he looks about to say something.

"Umm," then the Tyrell heir cleared his throat, to make his voice louder, "on your visit to Highgarden, I will be the one to receive you, my lady," he paused, offering a shy smile, "because Margaery will head to Dragonstone after the king and queen's visit here in Winterfell, considering now that she's betrothed to the Crown Prince and my brother Garlan, along with all our cousins will accompany her to the Targaryen stronghold, you don't mind it, don't you?" he is looking at her with a curious and hopeful expression.

Sansa thought about it and she realized that she really wanted to go to Highgarden because she thought that she will be with the company of Margaery and her cousins and now that she found out about them not being there on her visit, that only Willas Tyrell will be there, she's now having second thoughts about going.

"Willas," it was the voice of Margaery, who gave her brother a sweet grin, though Sansa thought that it meant something else, "you forgot to mention our mother," then she turned to look at Sansa, "our lady mother, Lady Alerie Tyrell and our grandmother, Lady Olenna will also be there Sansa, and there are also daughters of the bannermen of my father that's under the service of my mother," Margaery gave her a reassuring smile, "they will welcome you with open arms, just like what you did to us here in Winterfell."

The two Tyrell siblings are looking at her and realizing that Margaery might be right, Sansa nodded her head.

"Well I guess I will need to bring a dozen of gowns for this trip then," she said with a smile.

Willas nodded, who obviously looks relieved while Margaery took her by the arm.

"Let's walk shall we?" said the Tyrell girl and Sansa can't do nothing but nod her head again.

Willas returned to the castle yard after, leaving Margaery with Sansa and as the two of them roamed the godswood, talking about the future of their houses, upon returning to the heart tree, Margaery suddenly stopped so Sansa was forced to follow too.

"Do you know why I'm so keen to make you visit Highgarden, Sansa?" she asked.

Sansa knows it, or at least a small part of it but she shook her head, pretending that she doesn't.

"Because I want us to be sisters," said Lady Margaery, her brown eyes piercing her Tully blue's, "that once you visited the castle, you'll fall in love with it and you'll fall in love with my brother Willas," she paused, "Willas won't act it, he's a different sort of Tyrell but he likes you, I hope you likes him too."

"I like him," Sansa blurted out and Margaery beamed at her.

"Well, the only problem now is whether you'll like that Joffrey Baratheon more, but my brother Loras is a companion of Renly Baratheon, the youngest brother of Lord Robert, he's going to take you to Highgarden after your stay with the stags."

"He is a knight, isn't he?" asked Sansa, imagining the face of Ser Loras, a face the same with his brothers Ser Garlan and Willas.

"Yes," Margaery nodded, "he is a good tourney knight and with the sword too," the Tyrell girl half smiled, "you can tell him anything Sansa, Loras will listen," then she gave their surroundings a weary look, her voice was suddenly in whisper, "Storms End defied King Rhaegar and Lord Robert almost killed His Grace, they are not to be trusted, do you understand me, Sansa?"

Sansa realized that all the purpose of her being betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon as pointed out by her father is to heal wounds between the wolves and the stags, not to open another one to bleed and she's wondering if she's going to mention that to Margaery, but she decided against it.

"I will put my confidence to Ser Loras," she agreed and Margaery's radiant smile was almost blinding.

"I can't wait for us to be sisters," she said and Sansa half beamed at the thought of it.

That night, at the feast, she was seated with her siblings and her cousins, below her mother and father's table. She saw Jon talking to Margaery while Princess Daenerys didn't show up again. Baby Rickon and Bran are also absent, they are on their own respective rooms, taking care of their direwolf pups along with the Reed siblings. Prince Daeron on the other hand is still sulking for not having a direwolf pup while Arya is trying to talk to him, her sister even went to say that she's going to share Nymeria with him but Sansa observed that it only darkened the mood of the young prince. Her own Lady is now fast asleep on her bed, she spent the remaining hours of the day playing with it and the little direwolf seems to be starting to familiarize with its surroundings, though she can't still open her eyes.

"Daeron," she called for her cousin, "Targaryen's are famous for the dragons of your house, not direwolves, so you shouldn't sulk so much about you not having a direwolf pup."

"That's what I'm telling him," agreed Arya and both of the sisters seems to be surprised that they agreed with something.

"But the dragons are now gone," came the frustrated voice of her cousin, "it's not fair!"

Well he has a point, said Sansa to herself, feeling sorry for him.

"Aunt Lyanna has three dragon eggs right? We saw it, she said that it was a gift from the magister of Pentos, maybe those eggs will finally hatch," suggested Arya, "you and Jon and the baby on aunt Lyanna's tummy will ride each, wouldn't you like it, Dae? After all, the sigil of your house is a dragon with three heads."

Sansa wanted to berate her sister Arya for suggesting that the dragon eggs will hatch giving their cousin false hope. Sansa saw for herself the dragon eggs of their aunt Lyanna and when she asked when will the eggs hatch, her aunt only laughed, telling her that it won't because it was turned to stone by some sorcerers from Asshai.

'But what if the dragon eggs will come back to life?' she dreaded the answer.

That night, she danced with Willas and Ser Garlan Tyrell, with her cousin Harrold Arryn, her brother Robb and Ser Raynald Westerling but before she and Margaery can change partners, the Tyrell girl dancing with Prince Jonothor and her dancing with Ser Raynald, she saw her father and mother, leaving their table. She was waiting all night for that chance and she quickly left the hall and followed her parents to their chamber.

"Mother," she called out before they enter their room, "father!"

"What is it Sansa?" asked Lady Catelyn as Lord Eddard opened the door of their chamber.

"Can I talk to you and father?" she asked eyeing them both; her mother looks curious while her father looks somber.

"All right, come on in," said Lady Catelyn and the three of them went inside the private room and once there, she didn't sat on a seat offered by her mother, she remained standing like her father.

"What do you want to talk about, Sansa?" asked Lord Eddard, eyeing her, almost frowning, "you're not going to run away like your aunt Lyanna, are you?"

Sansa and her mother smiled at that and her father's face relaxed when he saw her shaking her head.

"No father, of course not," she replied almost appalled by the thought.

"So what is it that you want to talk about?" asked her mother.

"I just want to tell you that I'm going to visit Highgarden after my stay in Storms End," she said, looking at the faces of her mother and father and she noticed that both of them were confused.

"Why are you going to visit the Tyrell's?" asked Lady Catelyn, "Lady Margaery won't be in Highgarden Sansa, she's going to stay at Dragonstone to wait for the day of her marriage to Jon," she paused, side glancing at her father, "I know you've enjoyed their company, Sansa, but I don't think it's necessary that you visit Highgarden without them."

"But Willas and Lady Alerie and Lady Olenna will be there to accommodate me mother," she reasoned, mirroring the voice of Margaery, "and I really want to see Highgarden, please mother," then she turned to look at her father who has now a frown on his forehead.

"Did Lady Margaery put this notion on your head, Sansa?" asked her father in which she only nodded, hoping that he will agree, now that Margaery's name came up.

"The Tyrell's," her father said with a shake of his head, "then it's true that their vanity is only exceeded by their ambition--"

"Ned," gasped her mother who's now looking with bulging eyes to her husband, "don't talk ill about the Tyrell's, Lady Margaery is going to be the queen of your own nephew and they are our allies."

Sansa saw that her father realized his mistake and he nodded at the words of his wife.

"All right, it's just that with all of these people here in the castle, it seems like all I can hear are their noise," explained her father, "I almost forgot that they are still young and that they are not all northerners," he paused, turning to look at Sansa who remained quiet, "well if you like to visit Highgarden, I don't see a problem with that but first, tell Robert about it, it's best that he knows what you plans to do."

Sansa run towards her father, hugging, kissing and thanking him.

"Sansa, so when will you return to Storms End?" it was her mother, who's now standing up, "you are going to live there after all, once your betrothal to Joffrey is announced."

"A fortnight, mother," answered Sansa, "I think that will be enough."

Lady Catelyn nodded and so that night, she slept more comfortably with the thought of finally visiting Highgarden, with its briar maze, fountains, courtyards and gardens. She is sharing her warmth with her direwolf, who's sleeping at her side and she kissed it before she finally fell asleep.

But that night, she dreamed about the lion once again and like the previous dream that she had, the wild animal chased her and almost devoured her until the timely intervention of a man who speared the lion in the heart and when she looked at the man, who has now blood all over his naked chest, she saw that his eyes are looking at her with anger and hate and then the man picked up his spear but Sansa woke up form that dream before the man can throw it at her.

"What is that dream?" she asked in the early morning hours, "was that a warning about Joffrey?"

Then she realized it can't be Joffrey because he is a Baratheon and the Baratheon's sigil is a Stag, not a lion and the man who saved her, who can it be? Why did he saved me if he's only going to kill me afterwards?

She didn't sleep well after that and the following morning, her mood seems to go downhill. Her mother visited her when the morning came, telling her that she's going to leave the North earlier than what is planned.

"But why?" she asked disappointedly, "how about the tourney at White Harbor and the wedding of Lord Bolton's son?"

"Sansa, this is a royal command," said her mother, who looks as confused as her, "King Rhaegar didn't actually specify the reason for the sudden change of plans but he mentioned that they are also going to change the time and day of their departure to Kings Landing," her voice suddenly drops, and she sat beside her bed, "he mentioned that Lord Varys found out a disturbing news."

"What news?" asked Sansa.

Her mother shook her head.

"No one knows but he said that you need to be careful in Storms End."

All of a sudden the memory of her dream came back to her.

"But Robert was a good friend of your father, he's not going to hurt you," her mother assured her, "and besides you're going to be his daughter in law," her mother gave a tight smile, "but Sansa, once you feel that something is wrong, please remember that courtesy is a ladies armor," then before leaving, her mother kissed her at the top of her head

The days came and went in a blur, Lady and her litter mates are growing so fast too. Sansa needed to let her roam at the godswood every night now because Robb said direwolves can hunt for themselves and one night, the same night of the arrival of the king and the queen and the last night of her stay in Winterfell too, something strange happened on her sleep.

She didn't dreamed about the lion and the man carrying a spear that night, but she dreamed she's running inside the godswood, with five others who she can recognized as her littermates. They are hunting something, something big then in the distance, at the gates of the castle, she picked up a sound, the sound of men and she can smell new visitors.

Her brothers bared their fangs at the new scent but she remained calm. Her sister Nymeria led the hunt instead, because Greywind returned at the entrance of the godswood followed by Shaggydog and she followed her sister willingly with Summer trailing behind them until they finally spotted their prey.

'This is it,' she said with satisfaction as they hunt down the animal and when her fangs sunk deep on the flesh of the poor creature, she tasted blood on her mouth and that's when Sansa woke up.

'Strange,' she muttered to herself and she finally returned to sleep after a few minutes of contemplation.

She woke up very early in the morning because it was the day of her departure to Storms End. When she went down to the Great Hall, she was surprised to see her aunt Lyanna and King Rhaegar already there, her aunt is talking to her mother while the king is talking with his sister Daenerys. She almost backed away but the queen saw her enter the Great Hall and when Her Grace waved her hand at her, Sansa was forced to go towards them.

The king and the queen are breaking their fast with her mother and father, as well as Princess Daenerys and Prince Jonothor. It was the first time that Sansa saw the Crown Prince and the princess on one table.

Her cousin gave her a kiss on the cheek before he offered her a chair beside him and she accepted and sat on it.

"You look tired Sansa, are you sleeping well?" asked Jon with a worried face.

All of the people on the table are now to be looking at her.

"Well actually I'm just nervous," she answered truthfully.

"Nervous? But why my lady?" asked the king, who's always polite with her.

"Your Grace, who wouldn't be?" interrupted Princess Daenerys, "not everyone is as brave and as willing like our own Maid Margaery," Sansa heard a sarcastic tone on the voice of the princess, she even saw that Princess Daenerys looks amused, "Lady Sansa, it's a normal thing to be nervous when your leaving home," the princess offered a genuine smile.

Sansa realized then that the princess is jealous to Margaery, after all, she was close with Jon and now that the wedding of the Crown Prince is drawing near, he will be bound forever to Lady Margaery and not with her.

'That's why they are avoiding each other,' said Sansa to herself as everyone on the table got quiet.

It was the queen who broke the silence after Jon gave Daenerys a confused look.

"Sansa, your mother mentioned you want to visit Highgarden?"

"Yes, Your Grace," she answered with a nod, "Lady Margaery invited me, aunt Lyanna--"

"Aren't she a scheming little--"

"Stop it Dany," it was the voice of the king and this time, everyone in the Great Hall became silent, the iron voice of the king seems to command everyone to stop moving, "she's going to be your queen after she married your nep--"

Princess Daenerys suddenly stood up.

"I will not bow down to a queen from the lines of stewards that our ancestors had up jumped far above their stations," exclaimed the princess, making Sansa, Queen Lyanna and her mother, Lady Catelyn gasped in surprised, but the princess did not flinch from the look of both her brother and nephew, "it seems I'll just need to leave Westeros, I'm going to follow Viserys in the lands across the narrow sea where I'm not going to be under the rule of a golden flower sitting beside a smiling dragon in the Iron Throne."

After that declaration, she made a sarcastic curtsy to the king and a much more genuine one to the queen, her mother and father and left the Great Hall, ignoring the Crown Prince entirely.

The mood of the castle turned sourer by the hour as Sansa instructed the servants about the luggage that she will bring. Jeyne Poole, Septa Mordane, her guards and protectors Ser Rodrik Cassel and his nephew Jory and her direwolf pup Lady, who's now two times larger than a grown up bitch will accompany her to the Stormlands.

Her mother and father, along with the king and the queen, her cousins Harrold Arryn, Prince Daeron, Prince Jonothor, all of her siblings and the Westerling's and even the Tyrell's came to see her off. It was a one day ride on the barge from Winterfell to the port of White Harbor, where the ship called 'The Sweet Maiden' is going to take her to the Parchments, the seat of power of House Penrose and after that, Sansa and her small company will continue on horses towards Storms End. Only baby Rickon was left behind the castle to be the Stark in Winterfell, that's why Sansa visited him earlier in the morning.

"You take care of yourself there, Sansa," said her father after hugging her, "your mother and I will visit you there, don't worry."

Sansa kissed Lady Catelyn next who kissed her back in return.

"Remember our talk, Sansa," warned her mother in which Sansa nodded.

The king embraced her but it was her aunt Lyanna who gave her a bone crushing one.

"Be careful out there, Sansa," said her aunt, her eyes already brimming with tears, "if that boy Joffrey looks like a toad, send us a raven quick and you'll be free of this betrothal."

That put a smile on Sansa's lips.

Her brother Robb embraced her too and he muttered a whispered apology to her while his wife, Jeyne Westerling kissed her on the cheeks.

"When you return, you'll be seeing little versions of your brother Robb running about the castle," said Jeyne with a smile.

"Are you pregnant?" asked Sansa, trying to contain the excitement on her voice.

"Not yet, but I'm going to see Maester Luwin when we return to the castle," answered her good sister.

Bran told her to take care of her direwolf while Prince Daeron promised to take her away once the dragon eggs hatched and she kissed them both while Arya only embraced her, her eyes brimming with tears too, just like their aunt Lyanna but her sister remained silent.

She turned to Margaery next and the Tyrell girl reminded her about Ser Loras and Ser Garlan and Willas Tyrell kissed her on her bare hand.

"I'll see you at Highgarden, my lady," said Willas and Sansa nodded at that.

When it was the turn of her cousin, Harrold Arryn, he told her that he wanted to join her in Stormsland but her father, Lord Eddard said that he can come with them on their visit after the wedding of Domeric Bolton.

"I'll see you there, Sansa," smiled her cousin and she embraced him tightly, feeling the hard muscle underneath his doublet.

"I will miss you," muttered Sansa, her voice muffled by his chest.

And the last of them is the Crown Prince who gave her a very tight embrace.

"Remember that Kings Landing is only a few days ride to Storms End, Sansa," said her cousin, "if the Baratheon's mistreated you, just send a letter and I will come and get you myself."

Sansa smiled at that.

"Jon, the only thing you need to worry about is who will you choose between Lady Margaery and Princess Daenerys," she gave him a silly smile but it seems she hit a nerve on his cousin because he suddenly turned serious, "I'm joking Jon," she quickly corrected herself, "of course you know who will you choose, don't you?"

Her cousin suddenly gave a tight smile.

"Of course I do," he said.

Sansa boarded the ship after that and once at the deck, as the captain of the Sweet Maiden yelled commands for them to finally sail, she saw her mother crying and for the brief seconds, Arya too. She waved them goodbye wondering when she'll gonna see them again and in the farthest direction, she thought she saw the walls of Winterfell.

'I'll be back,' she promised herself as she joined Jeyne Poole and her Septa on the prow of the ship, they are now sailing, sailing away from their home.

Notes:

Hey guys! I'm sorry I wasn't able to update last monday, the internet in my area is down and even now, we are experiencing heavy rains and there are flood everywhere. I hope the chapter was worth the read tho. That's all, thank you! :D

Chapter 7: Daenerys II

Notes:

So I first mentioned that Ser Barristan is 46... my mistake, and I'm sorry about that but he is 60 in this au. Next chapter will be Daeron and someone is going to die and the only safe characters are the one's with pov and then finally Jon's chapter is up, I just included this info now because I replied to someone that after this chapter, it was Jonothor's chapter so that's that. I hope y'all will like this chapter, it was really hard writing this one, it's 19 pages long and didn't gave me enough sleep. Ok enough of my stupid rant... you can read it now haha :)

Chapter Text

Daenerys is watching the color of the evening envelops the northern sky in the window of the rookery. She visited Luwin, the maester under the service of House Stark for the headache she's been experiencing since arriving in the north. The old man was still preparing the potion that's why she made a quick detour at the rookery, located atop the maester's turret to see the beauty of the northern sky in the night as suggested by the old maester.

The castle was almost empty, after accompanying Sansa on her departure to the Stormlands, only the Stark's except Arya and Bran, the Westerling's and Harrold Arryn returned. King Rhaegar, Queen Lyanna, Prince Jonothor, Prince Daeron, Arya and Bran and the Tyrell's are going to stay at White Harbor, at the insistence of Lord Manderly from what she heard on the gossips of the servants that came with the party.

The fat lord of mermans court pointed out that four days from now, the tourney at White Harbor will commence and that they would return to the city eventually, so why not stay already? They are also accompanied by all the Kingsguards, except Ser Barristan, who's guarding Daenerys here at Winterfell and Ser Jaime Lannister, who's guarding the queen mother back in Kings Landing.

She have always appreciated the wild beauty of the North since her first visit and right now, as she stares at the sky, the silence and the mute appeal of the stars now appearing slowly on the sky, burning far away with their different colors is very much appreciated by the princess. She wonders if there are still dragons out there, in another place, on another land when all of a sudden, Daenerys heard someone entered the maester's turret from below the rookery. She withdraws from her previous thoughts and listened for any sound coming from the new visitor.

"Maester Luwin?" she heard a familiar voice but she can't distinguished the owner at the moment, "maester, are you here?"

Daenerys heard a shuffling and floor creaking then came the voice of Luwin.

"Ah, Lady Jeyne, what can I do for you?"

That's right, the owner of the voice is Lady Jeyne Stark, from the impoverished House Westerling of the westerlands, the family is a sworn bannerman of House Lannister, whom they said has more honors than wealth.

"I came here because I'm wondering if you know the first stages of a woman for being pregnant?"

'So she must be pregnant,' thought Daenerys, listening intently.

"Of course, of course, my lady," answered the maester, "please, do seat yourelf, I'm just going to ask you questions."

The maester of Winterfell started asking questions like 'when was the last time you bled,' 'do you still bleed,' 'do you feel nausea in the morning,' 'how often Jeyne and Robb make love,' and a lot more and from what Daenerys heard from the answers of Lady Stark, it was pretty much confirmed.

"Lady Stark, I say you're 3 weeks pregnant," Daenerys heard the voice of the maester, "it still safe to make love with Robb, but you should be more careful on riding horses and drinking wine but since I know you're not actually fond of those things, I say you'll have a healthy pregnancy."

The princess seems to hear a sniffle below, like someone is trying itself not to cry and she knows that it's unlikely Maester Luwin.

"Thank you maester," came the overwhelmed voice of Jeyne, "Robb will be happy for sure," then she paused, "what is that smell?"

Daenerys seems to catch the smell of the potion too when Lady Stark mentioned it.

"Ah, it's coming from the potion that Princess Daenerys asked me to brew for her headache," answered the maester, "she's on the rookery, I told her the view of the night sky upstairs are one of the best."

Daenerys felt that it's time for her to go down, so she sucked in a breath, and started making her way down and once there, she saw two pair of eyes looking at her.

"Good evening Lady Jeyne," she greeted the girl with a smile, then she turned to the maester next, "is it finished, Maester Luwin?"

"Yes Your Highness," answered the old man bowing his head slightly, "I'll just put it in a cup."

The maester left them and an awkward silence settled between her and Jeyne. Daenerys is wondering if she's going to mention about all that she heard or will she remain silent but fortunately, it was Lady Jeyne who broke the silence.

"I'm pregnant Your Highness," she said with a big smile, her left hand is now rubbing her still smooth belly, "a new Stark is on the way."

"I congratulate you in advance, Lady Jeyne," she said, and the two of them shared a look of genuine happiness, "your child will be the future of House Stark, a lot of people are going to expect a lot from him, or her."

Jeyne Westerling beamed at that.

"I hope he has the courage of his father and if she's a girl, I hope she's as beautiful as the queen," she answered, "how about you, Your Highness, does a betrothal on the way?"

Daenerys was silent for a few seconds, knowing full well that Jeyne is innocent and has no knowledge of what is really going on.

"I don't think I'm going to marry a lord from Westeros, no offense to Robb but I think they are all boring," she answered in a jest, in which the other girl returned with a chuckle, "I think I'm just going to get myself a Dothraki horse lord," she winked at her, "I heard they are really rough."

The two ladies laughed at that and then Maester Luwin finally returned.

"Here's the remedy for that headache of yours, Your Highness," said the old man, giving her a smoking goblet, "careful Your Highness, it's really hot."

Daenerys put the brim of the goblet on her mouth and slowly, she drunk. It was really hot, and both Jeyne and the maester are looking at her with cautious expression combined with curiosity as she finished it with one long gulp.

"I'm a Targaryen," she declared, "we have a certain tolerance with heat," she paused, turning to Jeyne, "can I walk with you, Lady Jeyne? That is if you're visit here is already finished."

"Of course, Your Highness," answered Lady Stark, standing up from her seat, "it will be my pleasure."

They both thanked the Luwin and the two of them finally walked out from the maester's turret. The castle grounds are now covered with darkness, and only the fire in the torches, hanging along the walls is lighting their way.

Daenerys never had this chance talking alone with Lady Jeyne and she was surprised how well the two of them gets along. They mostly talked about the Stark's, of how brave and honorable her husband is and the warm welcome of Lord Eddard, Lady Catelyn and the whole Stark household with the three Westerlings while Daenerys agreed, telling Jeyne that she grew up with Queen Lyanna who's known for her bravery as well, and Daeron, the little prince, even though he doesn't look like a Stark at all, but in his blood, he's got the moral code of the oldest noble family of the Seven Kingdoms.

"How about Jonothor, Your Highness?" asked Jeyne.

The two of them didn't notice that they are walking in a much slower pace and the princess didn't realized that she suddenly stopped from her steps.

"Your Highness?" asked Jeyne, her voice suddenly worried.

The mention of the name of the Crown Prince hit a chord on Daenerys. She remembered in the past few weeks how from far away she looks at her love; the way he laughs with his friends, the way he drinks and talks with soldiers on their campfire, when he plays with his younger cousins and the way he messed up the hair of Prince Daeron but most of all, Daenerys can't stand it whenever she saw how courteous, noble and most of the times romantic Jonothor acts whenever Lady Margaery was around and she wanted to be the Tyrell girl in that moment, only in that moment, the way she kiss and shows her love to her nephew and the thing that hurt the most, is the way Jonothor looks at the Tyrell girl.

'He used to look that way whenever he was with me,' the thought was bitter and sad and she put that away for a moment, instead, she remembered the times that she and Jonothor had.

It was something that even Margaery can't take. It's the only thing that's left.

"I'm sorry my lady," she apologized all of a sudden, "I never mentioned that you can call me Dany, practically you're a family now."

The princess saw that Lady Jeyne smiled at that.

"And you can call me Jeyne... Dany," she offered a shy smile and Daenerys returned it with a sheepish grin.

The two of them continued their way on the Great Keep of Winterfell and Daenerys was telling Lady Jeyne that there was a Westerling who married a Targaryen King in the past.

"Ah yes, Queen Jeyne is my namesake," came the voice of the new Lady Stark, "there's a portrait of her in the hall of the Crag."

Servants on the yard are looking at them but they paid them no mind as they entered the Great Keep of the castle. Inside at the entrance, Robb Stark and Ser Barristan are waiting for them.

"Jeyne, where have you been?" asked Robb, after giving Daenerys a bow.

She and Jeyne shared a glance.

"Oh, Jeyne joined me for a walk, Robb," she answered for her.

Robb's gaze travelled from one woman to another, fishing out some jest to find none.

"Alright, if you don't want to tell me," sighed Robb then he offered his hand to his wife.

"Come, wife and Princess Daenerys, the feast is waiting for us," he said earning adoring smile from his wife but before Jeyne accepted his hand, she leaned to her and whispered 'I owe you.'

As the couple walks ahead of them, Daenerys and Ser Barristan followed them as they made their way on the dais, opposite the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Is Lady Stark pregnant?" whispered Ser Barristan and Daenerys smiled and nodded at the old man, "and how about that headache of yours? Are you feeling better?"

She almost forgot that just a few hours ago, she's been having the worst headache ever.

"I'm better now, Ser," she answered the knight, "are you going to enter the list on Lord Manderly's tourney Ser Barristan?"

"I think I'm too old to enter the tourney, Your Highness," answered the knight.

"Too old?" she was amused, "well you may be right," she said as the four of them halted from their walk to the dais to give way for servants who are carrying a silver platters with suckling pig, ribs roasted in crust of garlic and herbs, thick soup of barley and venison, lamprey pie and others to name a few, "even my brother sometimes looks and sounds old," she added.

Ser Barristan gave a bark of laughter at that.

"Well, we are not getting younger, Princess," said the knight, "and besides, back in our days, we had our fair share of winnings on our attempt at jousting after entering a tourney," he paused as the last of servants carrying silver platters finally passed, "your brother, King Rhaegar is a great jouster and he won the greatest tourney of them all."

As they continued on their way, Daenerys gave the knight an inquiring look.

"Greatest tourney of them all?" she asked and for the first time, he saw the knight smiling with sadness on his face.

"Lord Walter Whent's tourney at Harrenhal, Your Highness," answered the knight, his voice mirroring his sudden change of mood, "though it brought thousands of people to their grave, including your father King Aerys, my brothers in the Kingsguard, Brandon Stark and his friends," he gave her an almost melancholic look that Daenerys only see from her brother Rhaegar, "Prince Rhaegar loves his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it, thousands of innocent life."

Daenerys couldn't smile genuinely after that and she sat on the table below the lords table where Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark are seating. She was with Lady Jeyne, Robb, baby Rickon, Harrold Arryn and to their surprised, Lord Eddard and Queen Lyanna's youngest brother, Benjen Stark, who's a sworn brother of the Nightswatch now arrived at the start of the feast.

Robb and Lord Stark embraced the rugged looking man who's wearing nothing but black clothes, it was the first time Daenerys saw Benjen because on her previous visits, the youngest brother of the queen are said to have always been away in the far north because he has taken the position of First Ranger of the Nightswatch.

The first one to be introduced was Harrold Arryn because he was the closest to the brother of the Nightswatch. Robb introduced Jeyne to him next and the Westerling girl seems terrified by the looks on her eyes but when Lord Eddard called for Daenerys, she stood up with her head held high, telling herself that she is a Targaryen and will not be intimidated by a ranger of the Wall. She shook the bare hand of the man and it felt cold.

"Ah, so you are King Rhaegar's sister Daenerys?" asked Benjen, "you are only a toddler when I last saw you, Your Highness," he kissed her hand and his lips felt cold too.

Daenerys was speechless but she soon found her composure back.

"I heard nothing but good things about you from Queen Lyanna, my good lord," she told him politely, offering a smile, "I'm really happy that you came, Her Grace will be pleased."

There was a quick flash of smile on the ranger but it soon faded and their hands now disentangled.

"Well she and the king will hear nothing but bad news from my mouth once I finally had the chance to talk to them," said the knight.

After the introductions, the feast finally continued but Daenerys mostly kept to her own company, she didn't even realized that she's playing with her food until Ser Barristan have waken her from the thoughts of three dragons flying above Kings Landing.

"Shall I take you to your bed, Princess?" asked the knight.

She nodded and when she stood up, the noise inside the Great Hall ceased and she thought for a second that it was her doing but it's not.

Jonothor is now suddenly standing at the entrance of the hall, his hair is windswept and wearing a black travelling cloak.

"I need some drink!" he announced and the hall erupted in laughter once again, the men closest to the Crown Prince are all offering their own cups and Jon accepted it all like a thirsty boy.

Daenerys didn't even bothered asking for the leave of Lord Stark or to anyone from their table, she left in hurry, her mind wondering why the Crown Prince returned here in Winterfell.

'Why did he leave his Margaery at White Harbor and how did he get here fast?' she asked herself as the sound of her and Ser Barristan's heavy footsteps echoed on the stone floor, 'did he came for me?'

She wanted to put her hopes on that last one but the more she thinks about it, the more it eats her up.

Once inside her chamber, she quickly changes to her nightgown, feeling nervous with reason unknown. She went to her writing table, looking at herself in the mirror, then she went to her window next but treetops, an empty yard and taller parts of the castle are the only things she can see, after that she returned to her writing table, doing the same thing she did earlier.

'Why am I feeling nervous?' she asked herself.

Nearing midnight, she finally went to her bed but it was another hour until sleep has finally taken her.

She dreamed of a savage man that night, it was tall with copper skin and silver hair, his face and muscular body is painted and it seems to be chasing something or someone, then Daenerys saw a girl... no, it was not a girl but a young woman with blond hair, running away from the savage man, her gown is white and she is barefooted and on her head, she is wearing a crown of winter roses, pale blue, the color of frost.

Soon enough the savage man caught the wild young woman and the two of them rolled a few times on the field of flowers, Daenerys saw that the willful girl was on top of the savage man and she kissed him and the princess realized they are both in love as the savage man growled under his breath, returning the kiss with fervor but there was a sudden screech from above and when Daenerys turned to look at the sky, she saw a black dragon diving towards the two lovers.

That's when she woke up, it was the wee hours of the morning but then she heard a voice outside her room, a familiar voice and suddenly her door was opened gently and Jonothor stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

She didn't move and neither Jon, the two of them are only gazing at each other; seconds, minutes, hours but it seems like nothing mattered between the two of them and all of a sudden, the Crown Prince sobs. It was the first time Daenerys saw him cry and she quickly got out from her bed and run to him.

"Jon, what's the problem?" she asked him as she leads the way at the edge of her bed.

The Crown Prince was half drunk but his shaking and tears can only be real. Daenerys is holding him carefully, his head resting on the crook of her shoulder.

'He smells like north,' she realized as she lay her head on his, both of them staying like that for a very long time but it was Jon that broke the silence between them.

"Margaery," he said after he calmed down, "Margaery said that she might be pregnant and there was nothing I could do but to offer her the marriage that House Tyrell have been hoping since after I was born."

Daenerys didn't speak.

"We are going to be married after the tourney," he said, speaking his mind on his own accord, "I know you don't like her, but Margaery is a really nice person, she might be a schemer, but who isn't right? After all, she grew up in the south, from one of the most powerful families," he paused, "she was thought how to play the game of thrones."

Daenerys remained silent.

"You are not speaking," said Jon, his head is still resting on the crook of her shoulder.

"I don't want to think about Margaery," came the reply of the princess.

The Crown Prince withdraws from their previous position, looking at her with nothing but confusion on his handsome face.

"Then what do you want to do?" he asked sincerely, "I love you first, I'm going to do what you want," he paused, searching her face, "surely father will understand if we run away now like uncle Viserys," but Daernerys only studied the face of the prince, feeling that it will be the last of their intimate conversation, "tell me Dany, do you want to be married with me now, we can do it if you want, in front of the heart tree of Winterfell," he took hold of her hand, "let's do it, now and forever we shall live together as husband and wife."

An unbidden smile crossed Daenerys lips. It was the one thing she ever wanted before the feast started, it was the thing that eating her up and she thought one time that she's going crazy of thinking how can she and Jon runaway because she knows, deep inside her nephew, he loves her more than anything, more than that smirking girl from Highgarden but then the words of Ser Barristan lingered on her mind.

'Prince Rhaegar loves his Lady Lyanna, and thousand died for it.'

If she say yes to Jon now, she can only see death and misery on the realm and the death of her brother Rhaegar, her mother Queen Rhaella, her good sister Queen Lyanna and her sweet nephew Prince Daeron.

'Who am I to put that terrible faith on them?' she asked herself, then deciding what is right, she kissed Jonothor.

"The only thing I want right now is you, Jon," she said then like the young woman in her dream a while ago, she laid Jonothor on the bed and she climbed on top of him, removing the fastenings of his travelling clothes and freeing the dragon on his breeches, "think nothing but me," she said before kissing him, her hands travelling on the hard muscle of his chest.

Jon moaned, his hands making its way under her night gown, removing the small piece of clothing that covers her sex but she didn't gave him the satisfaction of wrapping her cunt on his hard cock yet, instead, her lips kissed every part of his body, licking her way down until she is finally sucking his considerable length. She expertly twirled her tongue on the sensitive head, eliciting a moan from Jon, worshiping it like a god, all thoughts of decency now gone on her head and all a sudden he came and she swallowed the sticky liquid, every last drop of it but his cock remained hard and that's when she positioned his manhood on her sex and in one thrust, he entered her.

They made love, in more ways than one, like this was the last thing they will ever do, the sounds they are making must have waken the castle by now and the two of them didn't cared. The only thing that matters is the pleasure, the love they are making.

It was late in the morning when Daenerys woke up, her sex was aching, but it's a sweet pain and the memory of Jon's intent gaze and the every rough thrust of his cock on her cunt was a welcome thought in this cold morning, and the way he ate her up a few hours ago, it was like she's having a seizure.

She called for a servant after spending on that memory, asking for a hot water for her bath and soon enough, she finished and dressed herself in one of her gowns, with sleeves that covers even her own hands. She also put some perfume, a few of her jewelries and her slender crown.

She wants to look her best for Jon.

Upon arriving at the Great Hall, with a random Targaryen knight as a guard, the servants of the castle seems to be stealing glances at her and she held her head high, not ashamed by all the lovemaking she and Jon shared.

'I am a dragon, and dragon takes what she wants.'

Once inside the Great Hall of the castle, she saw Lord Stark talking to the steward Vayon Poole. She made her way towards them and she heard that the Stark patriarch is giving instructions to the steward and Daenerys overheard the words 'either Catelyn or myself will return in midnight,' the talk ceased when she finally reach the two men.

"Your Highness, do you want some food?" asked Lord Eddard politely.

"Yeah, that would be great my lord," she replied, feeling tired and hungry all of a sudden.

"Vayon, can you please go to the kitchens and tell the cook to prepare the princess's late breakfast," said Lord Stark to his steward.

"At once, my lord," bowed the steward, then giving Daenerys an even lower bow.

Once the steward was gone, as the servants continue on their work, Daenerys turned to look at Lord Eddard who's currently reading a letter.

"My lord, where's Jon?" she asked curiously.

"He is hunting with Robb and Harrold at the Wolfswood," answered Lord Stark, not bothering to look at her.

"How about Jeyne?" she asked and this time the Stark patriarch gray eyes gaze at her.

"She's getting ready for the journey to White Harbor," he answered, "and Your Highness, I forgot to tell you, a letter from His Grace arrived this morning, he wants you to join my wife and Lady Jeyne to White Harbor today."

"I'll just wait for Jon," she answered, "we're going to go together."

"Jon and Robb will not be back for a day or two, Your Highness," countered Lord Stark, "and this is a royal command."

Daenerys felt that her brother have been informed about Jon's visit on her chamber on that early morning, she's sure about that and she can't do nothing but comply.

After eating in silence on the Great Hall, Daenerys returned to her chambers and Ser Barristan was already there when she arrived, dismissing the Targaryen knight that has been trailing behind her all afternoon.

"It seems we're going to White Harbor today, my good night," she said to the old knight before she entered her room and once there, she quickly selected the gowns that she will use and the things she will bring. It was already evening when they finally arrived at the port where the barge is waiting for them. The river of White Knife flows serenely as Daenerys climbed on board, followed by the two Lady Stark's and Ser Barristan.

They travelled throughout that night and they spent their time on their sleeping quarters the whole journey, arriving at the city in the early morning. The smell of salty wind hit Daenerys nose as she made her way at the deck of the barge and she finally saw for the first time, the only city in the North.

White Harbor's outer dock are full of ships, overflowing even but the inner harbor that's inside the walls of the city only contains Targaryen warships including the five decked ship called Rhaegar's wrath, as well as smaller ships with statues of merman on its prows. The city is clean and well ordered, with wide straight cobbled streets that make it easy for its occupants to walk around. The buildings that Daenerys can see are built of whitewashed stone, with steeply-pitched roofs of dark gray slate.

Along with Lady Catelyn and Lady Jeyne, Daenerys was escorted by guards wearing the sigils of House Manderly on their surcoat. Ser Barristan is walking on her side, watching the people of the city with a calm expression.

"How do you find the city, Princess?" asked Lady Catelyn as they passed the inside walls of White Harbor and the first thing that Daenerys saw is the Fishfoot yard, a cobbled square with a fountain on its center. Naked children are running around it, breathless and carefree.

"The smell is better here," she replied in a jest. Lady Catelyn returned her smile.

"That must be the Castle stair," said Lady Stark, pointing another street with steps going upwards towards the seat of House Manderly, the castle called 'New Castle,' that sits atop a hill, even above it's outer and inner walls. In place of light post, on its sidewalk, statues of mermaids are built instead, with bowls of burning whale oil cradled in their arms.

As they ascent with their every step, Daenerys decided that she likes the city. The household guards use tridents as weapons instead of spears and they also wear blue-green wool, it's nothing like she had seen before and once at the top, she turned to look at the city below and the view is one of the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

'Once I'm queen, I'm going to build a city on the other side of Blackwater Rush, opposite Kings Landing,' she said to herself as they continue on the gates of the New Castle and once inside, a household guard led them towards the entrance of the Great Hall. The door opened and a herald cried out their names.

"Lady Catelyn Stark, wife of Lord Eddard Stark the Warden of the North, Lady Jeyne Stark, wife of Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell, Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen, the delight of the realm and her guard, Ser Barristan the Bold."

House Manderly greeted them warmly and Lord Wyman Manderly kissed her hands last while Daenerys can see the Royal family on the background as well as the Tyrells, chief of them is Margaery which seems to be regarding her coolly. Daenerys also saw other members of the Small Council of her brother that includes Lord Sawane Botley, Lord Randyll Tarly and Lord Jon Connington, the Hand of the King, even Ser Davos Seaworth was there.

She and Jeyne were introduced to Ser Wylis the heir of House Manderly and to his wife Leona, who has been a lady in waiting of Queen Lyanna in the past, and their two daughters Wynafryd and Wylla. Wynafryd has brown hair bound in a long braid while Wylla has long blond hair, but she dyes it with garish green and like her sister, she wears it with long braid. There's also Ser Wendel, the second son of Lord Manderly, whom Daenerys already met back in Kings Landing because Lord Manderly serves as an advisor to the king. He is not as fat as his brother and father but Daenerys still consider him immense and he wears a large mustache and bald.

After the introduction, a feast was started and Daenerys sat with Lady Jeyne and Lady Cat while the Tyrell's sat with Prince Daeron and Arya and Bran Stark. Ser Barristan joined Ser Myles Mooton, Ser Richard Lonmouth, Ser Willis Wode, Se Oswell Whent and the Lord Commander, Ser Arthur Dayne at the corner of the hall, standing guard.

The merman court has its walls, floor, and ceiling made of wooden planks notched cunningly together and decorated with all the creatures of the sea. At one end is the entrance and on the other is a dais where there is a large cushioned throne. King Rhaegar is currently sitting on it and beside him, Queen Lyanna was given a small throne like cushioned seat for her to use.

Princess Daenerys was looking at the floor of the Great Hall to find it painted with sea creatures and she likes it, how the sea creatures seem to be alive when all of a sudden, the feet of Margaery appeared on her vision, wearing dainty sandals. When she looks up to her, she found that Margaery is wearing a fake over friendly smile.

"Princess," she said, slightly bowing, "can I have a word?"

She didn't respond for a moment and she didn't realize that the music died to make way for their conversation and that all of the attention of the people on the Great Hall was now turned with the two of them.

She studied the crowd and wonders what will be their reaction if she declines her request but nonetheless, after seeing the look of her brother the king, she stood up and gave the fakest smile she can conjure.

"Of course, my lady," she answered sweetly.

Margaery led the way outside the Great Hall and she followed her in silence. The Tyrell girl is wearing a gown of floral white, brandished with the thorns of the golden roses of her house. They left the castle proper and made their way to a spot that overlooks the white city below.

They stood side by side for a second before Margaery broke the silence.

"I am with child," came her voice.

"I know," answered Daenerys, her eyes looking at the fountain below the city.

"How?" asked Margaery, "I only told about this to the King and the Queen and-"

"With Jon, I know," she replied then she turned to look at her, to find the Tyrell girl with a hard look, "he came to me last night," she said and she didn't bothered to elaborate the word came, "that's why I know."

"He came to you?" asked Margaery and Daenerys can hear that her voice has an edge on it, "what do you mean, Your Highness?"

They had a staring game for a second before she responded to her

"He came to my chamber and he told me," she answered truthfully, not withdrawing her eyes from hers and she doesn't know if she only imagined it but she thought she saw the small upturned nose of the Tyrell girl smoking with anger but then Margaery quickly got her composure back, not withdrawing from their gaze as well, "I think the siren inside you is already withering my lady and I think you tried your best to cage the dragon inside Jonothor but then, you know you can't do that," she steps a little closer and she was glad Lady Margaery didn't step back, she hold her ground, both of their eyes seething, "yes, you're going to be his wife and the queen of the Seven Kingdoms in time," then Daenerys shook her head, almost pitying the Tyrell girl, "but I will always hold his heart in my hand, no matter what you do, no matter what you say, that is the truth you can't never take away."

She saw the defenses of Lady Margaery starting to crumble and not wanting to witness it, she made her leave but she was only able to take a few steps away from her when the Tyrell girl finally found her voice back.

"You say you hold his heart," she said sarcastically, "but when King Rhaegar discussed that you're betrothal is on the way, he didn't object."

Daenerys knows she is lying because her brother talked to her before, and she volunteered to go to Dorne in exchange of Viserys place with the Martell's. She turned back to Lady Margaery, her face amused.

"My brother is going to send--"

"No," she cut her off, "the Martell's are plotting against your family and it was decided that it was for the best to betroth you to Harrold Arryn and do you know who Jon suggested for you?"

Daenerys remained silent as the smile of Margaery returned on her lips.

"Wendel Manderly," she answered, "Jon said he likes to see the look on your face in front of the Sept with Lord Manderly's second son as a groom and you know what the best part about it?"

This time, the dragon inside Daenerys is threatening to lash out and what can a golden flower do against the might dragons of House Targaryen?

Nothing.

'I will bring this Margaery to the dirt where their house belongs,' she said to herself, fixing the Tyrell girl a dangerous look.

"His Grace considers the match," she even has the audacity to giggle, "one piece of advice, Your Highness," she said with grin, "better start packing."

Margaery left her speechless and weak after that and going back to the Great Hall of the Manderly's seems not to be the right choice so instead, she went down to the docks, with no guards trailing her back, back to the inner walls of the city, where the Targaryen fleet are currently anchored. She climbed on the lower deck of Rhaegar's Wrath with no permission, at first the crew was yelling at her but when they got a good look on her face, they quickly apologized.

"Where to, my lady?" asked the young cabin boy.

"In a cabin," she answered, "I need to be alone and please don't tell anyone I'm here."

The cabin boy nodded and he led the way to the upper deck, in an underground cabin that has painted windows on its back.

"I'll stay outside, Your Highness," said the boy, "in case you need anything."

Daenerys nodded at that and soon enough, she was left alone on the swaying ship. She knows she shouldn't acted like a child but the thought of Jon suggesting a match for her hurt her feelings, as well as if Margaery is saying the truth, that King Rhaegar is considering the match when before they left for Riverrun, she even volunteered to go to Dorne in exchange for Viserys but now, she felt betrayed.

To calm herself, she sat on the bed at the edge of the cabin and there, she fell asleep. On her slumber, she dreamed of a port city and a great grass sea. She can also hear a voice calling her and the feeling of the cold engulfing her every skin. She felt cold and the cold is slowly killing her like a disease but then as she followed the sound, it led her from dead crumbling castles to flourishing cities, some ancient and other walled and on her feet, broken shackles are scattered along with burned bodies of human flesh then finally to a dark foreboding place, and there was suddenly a closed door in front of her, black and cold.

"You know what to do," came a woman's voice, "break the door mother of dragons, break the door and you'll see them waiting for you."

But she lost all the courage, she felt scared and she wants to go back, back to where she came from.

"You cannot go back," said the voice, "you must pass beneath the shadow..."

And that's when she woke up to find nothing but darkness. She blinked her eyes for a moment to adjust her vision and was shocked to a woman inside her cabin, looking at something on the table opposite the bed where Daenerys is laying, she didn't dare to speak.

"You must sail and leave this place," said the woman's voice and then Daenerys saw from behind her that she is wearing a red lacquered wooden mask, "the great Other is approaching these lands and no one can stop it now," she paused, her back still on Daenerys, "you felt the cold and the only way to fight them is with fire," then her voice drops dangerously, "dragon fire."

Daenerys doesn't know if she is seeing a figment of her imagination and all the while, she remained silent.

"They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world, and when they see they shall lust," her voice was full of danger and warning, "for dragons are fire made flesh and fire is power."

"Dragons?" it was the first time she spoke and it sounded amazed, scared even.

"If you sail, your name will be remembered forever in all of history," said the masked woman, "and the faith of lost love shall meet again, you have dreamed of this, a savage man and a willful young woman."

The dream about the lovers quickly returned to Daenerys mind, wondering who they are or were.

"The gray rat of the merman lord will help you if you talk to him now," said the woman, "the enemies of the dragons will come to fold and if you don't sail, you will perish with them and this task shall be given to another."

Daenerys realized that the woman is lifting up something heavy.

It might be a sword, she said to herself waiting anxiously to be cut in half.

"Remember who you are, Daenerys," said the woman with a voice like she was her long lost friend, or a relative and then to her horror, the masked woman turns to look at her, "the dragons know. Do you?"

The woman was tall and wearing a black robe made in finest silk and her face is masked but all of a sudden, she vanished along with the darkness and the light of an afternoon sun penetrated the cabin once again.

"What is that? What is the meaning of that?" she asked confused then she stood up and saw quickly what the woman is lifting earlier.

"Queen Lyanna's dragon eggs," she said to herself amazed, while looking at the three fossilized dragon eggs, lying on three separate metal baskets.

She made her way towards it, lifting the one in the middle that has the black scale with red markings. It was a heavy thing but she knows whatever the woman said is a lie... dragons are now gone and certainly these dragon eggs can't hatch as well.

'They are dead, they have been turned to stone for hundred of years now,' she encourage herself then all of a sudden, she heard voices of men above the deck and she quickly made her way out of the cabin, up the stairs and to the upper deck where city guards seems to be searching, searching for her and to her horror, King Rhaegar was with them, as well as Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan.

"Dany!" barked out her brother, his face angry and dangerous, "half of the guards of the city have been searching for you since morning and Lord Manderly thought that you find his Great Hall not pleasing that's why you left, what is wrong with you?"

It was the first time Daenerys saw his brother so angry.

"Come, let's talk to your chamber in the castle," it was a royal command and she obliged forcefully.

She followed her brother and Ser Arthur Dayne, while Ser Barristan is walking beside her as they entered the inner walls of the city once again.

"You must understand him, Dany," explained Ser Barristan as they walk, "it was quite insulting and," his voice dropped into minimum, "Lady Margaery told His Grace in private that you've insulted her and that you also plans to steal away Jon."

'That bitch,' said Daenerys to herself, seething with hate but she felt stupid all of a sudden, 'I should have gone back to the Great Hall, Ser Barristan is right,' she realized as they now ascend to the Castle stairs.

Once at the main proper of New Castle, they didn't went to the Great Hall and instead, her brother led her to one of the tall buildings of the castle and once inside, they climbed a few flight of stairs and on the third level, they entered her chamber but Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur remained outside.

The chamber was beautiful though not as big as her room in the Red Keep. It gives her the commanding view of the back of the castle, where the stadium for the tourney is being set up. There was also bowls of fruit on the table and as she filled her vision with what's in front of her on the window, her brother finally speaks.

"What's your problem Dany?"

She didn't respond.

"You insulted Lady Margaery, you insulted Lord Manderly and you plan to run away with Jon?"

She can't take it anymore so she faced her brother finally.

"Is it true?" she asked, "is it true that you're going to give me away to Harrold Arryn or," she paused, searching the handsome face of the king, "to Ser Wendel?"

"Yes," the voice of the king came like a whiff, "we can't trust the Martell's at this point, when I told the council that you volunteered to go to Dorne, Lord Varys objected and he told us news of betrayal by Sunspear," he paused, "I can't let you go to a snakes lair so it was decided that you're going to marry someone from the alliance to strengthen the connection of our house, the Tyrell brothers are one of the many choices, but then you despised them because of Margaery," her brother gave her a searching look, "I will still let you choose whoever you want sister but, you know I can't let you marry my son."

Her eyes started brimming with tears, she felt herself shackled, caged and right now, she is seriously considering to sail, just like what the masked woman has said.

"So when's the big day?" she asked, she meant to be sarcastic but then it came out as tragic.

She saw her brother tense when he heard her voice, as if having an internal battle whether to comfort her or to knock some more sense on her.

"After we returned to Kings Landing, Lyanna and Margaery will stay at Dragonstone for safety and once you married the man of your choosing at the Sept, you also will need to go with him, I suggest you choose Harrold Arryn, the Eyrie is impregnable and the safest castle in the Seven Kingdoms... that would give me more sleep, knowing that one of the people I love is living in safety."

She wanted to cry then but she can't let her brother see the tears. The only words that came out from her mouth were the one the masked woman has said to her earlier.

"Can I talk to the maester?" she asked, "I feel really tired, I want to sleep."

Her brother nods and walk towards her and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sorry Dany, but I know you will understand this soon," he paused, and they shared a look, "war is coming, it's on our doorstep and I am the king, I have responsibility to the realm."

She examined the face of Rhaegar, as if this is the last time she's going to see him.

"I know," she replied and after that, she was left alone.

She waited for the maester whom the masked woman called gray rat and when then old man knocked on her door, she let him enter. The maester is a fat, rose-cheeked man, with thick lips and head full of golden curls.

"I am Maester Theomore, Your Highness, I was born in Lannisport, from a cadet branch of the main house," he introduced himself, "you called for me, princess?"

Daenerys thought that she's going straight to the kill, no more beating around the bush.

"I need you to help me," she said in a small voice, afraid that her guard outside her door will hear, "I need you to help me escape the city."

The fat maester gave her a surprised look and turned to look at the door before responding to her.

"Escape?" he asked, his voice interested, "why princess?"

"I don't want to be married to Harrold Arryn or to the second son of your lord," she replied simply, "I want to run away, sail across the narrow sea."

"Yes, you must marry someone of your own status, that should only be right," nodded the maester, "you are a princess and you shouldn't stooped down to an Arryn or a Manderly, you are too good for them," then he paused, "but where are you going to sail?"

Daenerys is having second thoughts if she's going to reveal the location but then right now, the only one she can trust is the maester.

"Pentos," she replied, "Magister Illyrio is a friend of my brother and he's been asking for any of the royal family to visit him."

"Pentos," nodded the maester, his face looks satisfied, "well then wait for my signal, Your Highness."

"What signal?" she asked him, "and you will really help me?"

"You will know it," he replied, "and of course I will help, what ship will you be taking, princess?"

"Rhaegar's Wrath," she replied instantly.

"The king's own galley? I don't think I have that influence to---"

"Rhaegar's Wrath," she repeated firmly, "that ship can outrun any other ship that is docked on Lord Manderly's harbor, I won't be able to get far if I sail on another."

The maester saw some light on her reasoning and he bowed before leaving her quarters and she waited anxiously for the signal. Hours passed and she's starting to lose her patience so to kill some time, she checked who is guarding the door to find one of the household guards of Lord Manderly.

'Well I guess my brother did not anticipated an escape,' she said to herself then when darkness started covering the northern sky, Daenerys thought that Maester Theomore failed, or maybe a craven but then someone outside fell hard on the ground and all of a sudden, the door of her chamber was opened.

Three men came, they didn't even say a word, only that they start to pick up her luggage and then Maester Theomore appeared.

"Come princess, and put this on," said the maester, giving her a long black robe, "all of them went to the tourney grounds; this is the best time for an escape."

She obliged, feeling her heart beating faster and faster as she put on the black robe then followed the old man and once outside, she saw the household guard knocked down on the floor in front of her door.

"He is one of my men, and he knows what to say once interrogated," explained the maester as she and the three men carrying her luggage followed him.

It was already dark and they used a secret passageway, with descending steps for what almost an hour and once at the bottom, Daenerys realized that they are in the dungeons.

"Wolf's Den," explained the old man, "I can't be seen by the city folk, so you need to go along with these men, make your way to the harbor and once outside, don't run, we are now at the bottom of the Castle stairs, the walk is long but it's for the best."

"Thank you, maester," she answered, unaware that the old man's allegiance is pledged to someone outside the city, far away in the west and will only use this information of her escape for their advantage against her own family.

"It's my pleasure to help," answered the old man, "now go."

She did walk, along with the three men carrying her luggage on the street of the city.

'Slowly but surely,' she muttered to herself, the black robes protecting her from unwanted eyes and with their every step, she gets closer and closer to the war ship of her brother, 'nearly there.'

It was a delight when she finally saw the shadow of the handsome galley and from there, she climbed the bridge, the three men trailing behind her.

She was greeted by the young cabin boy, who led the three men on her cabin and when she made her way towards the upper deck, she saw an unfamiliar captain, bald in the head, and fat on the middle.

"I am Resmo," introduced the captain, "and I'm going to be your captain, Your Highness," he bowed, "Pentos, is it?"

Before responding, Daenerys gave one last glance to the white city behind her and muttered an apology to her family, especially to her brother Rhaegar and to her mother, Queen Rhaella.

"Pentos," she said, and then the voice of the captain bellowed all around the ship.

"All aboard!" he cried out, the words ringing on Daenerys ears and the crew went to their own stations.

The galley gave a loud creaking sound as it move and the men on the other ships are looking at them, but doing nothing as if they know that a ship will sail tonight.

"All hands on deck!" bellowed the captain for the second time when they are finally on the water, slowly Rhaegar's Wrath gained speed and the last thing that Daenerys saw is the great river of White Knife, she followed its trail with her gaze as they leave the harbor and she thought she saw the walls of Winterfell from afar.

"We are meant for each other, but this is not our time," she muttered sadly, thinking about Jonothor before making her way to the cabin below and inside, she lighted three candles on the table where the three dragon eggs are being kept as the ship sways.

She made her way on the bed, opposite the table and from the orange light of the burning candles, she thought that the scales of the dragon eggs are moving.

"If you sail, your name will be remembered forever in all of history," she remembered the voice of the masked woman, "and the faith of lost love shall meet again....,"

'Jon and I will meet again,' she said to herself, 'and I'm going to be a queen, his queen.'

Chapter 8: Daeron II

Notes:

So I know I've been stupid for not updating the story for this long but I just wanted to say that I'm moving to anew country and that's not an overnight process. Here's the second POV chapter of our little Daeron so I hope its worth the wait! Next chapter will be Jon (finally)

Chapter Text

Daeron woke up from his bed early in the morning by the sound of a servant entering his chamber, bringing in a silver platter that contains his breakfast that includes bacon, crusted bread, slices of pomegranate and apples and boiled eggs.

"I'm sorry if I woke you, Your Highness," apologized the girl servant who was surprised to see him observing her from his bed after she finished putting his breakfast on his table.

The servant is from Lord Manderly's household and Daeron have seen her a lot of times doing the work on his room every morning and evening.

"Is there news?" asked the young prince, "about my aunt?"

Princess Daenerys have been gone for two days now, aboard his father's own galley called 'Rhaegar's Wrath,' the fastest ship among the royal fleet. The king have sent three smaller ships with a big sail to trail down the galley in the narrow sea but there are still nothing since the night his aunt sailed and the king even sent letters to Kings Landing and Dragonstone but the contents of the letter, Daeron doesn't know.

"I don't think there's news about her, Your Highness," answered the servant, "here's your breakfast, Your Highness, eat all of this so you can grow tall like your father and brother."

Daeron nodded and he thanked the servant politely and asked her to leave him so he can eat alone in peace in which the girl servant obliged and bowed clumsily before leaving. Daeron left his bed, wearing only his night clothes and went to his table beside the window, overlooking the stadium of the tourney at the back of New Castle high above the ground, he tried the slices of fruits first and he found the pomegranate too sweet while the apple is too sour then he tried the bacon, it's the only thing that he finished entirely.

Another servant entered his room after he finished his breakfast and this time, it was a young man. He helped Daeron to dress and as respect to the start of the tourney, he put on a blue-green doublet, the colors of House Manderly, covering it with a long black robe to shield him from the last night's snow, the servant also pinned a snarling direwolf on his chest, as a sign of his Stark heritage.

"How's that, Your Highness?" asked the servant as Daeron looked at himself in the mirror.

"I think it's fine," he answered, "though I don't think the colors of House Manderly suits me."

"Then I'll just bring another set---"

"No, no," Daeron cut him in, "don't bother yourself, its fine," he paused then through the mirror, he gave the servant an inquiring look, "are my cousins all ready?"

"I think so, Your Highness," answered the servant thoughtfully, "Bran and Rickon are already outside the castle but Lady Arya," he shook his head disappointedly, "she doesn't want her hair to be comb."

The thought of Arya fighting off her septa amused him.

"Tell the servant in the service of Arya to just leave my cousin alone," he said, "she likes her hair that way."

The young man gave him a confused look.

"Was that a command, Your Highness?"

"Yes, it is a command," answered the prince, "how about my companions, are they all ready?"

"They are all set, Your Highness," answered the servant, quite reluctant, "as well as the Reed siblings."

Meera and Jojen? Asked Daeron to himself thinking about the two.

The Reed's have joined them months ago when they are still travelling on the Neck and at first glance, Daeron thought they are strange and odd as the two of them emerged from the marshes; Jojen is short and slim, with unusual deep green eyes and wearing clothing's with a deeper shade of green. He thought that as a crannog, the heir of House Reed would be as adventurous as his cousin, Bran and his father, Lord Howland back in his youth but Daeron found him silent and only speaks when necessary while his sister Meera is a typical crannog, with long brown hair and green eyes like his brother but she is much more cheerful, talkative and adventurous and carries a net and three pronged frog spear, even Arya admitted that she likes Meera though Daeron thought that its mostly because Meera gave his cousin a private lesson on how to catch a frog and fish back on one of the swamps in the Neck, using her pronged spear and net.

What was even odd is when his mother, the queen set a private meeting with the Reed siblings back in Winterfell, he joined them and heard that Queen Lyanna is offering for them to live with her in Kings Landing.

Anyone would have say yes to that offer, Daeron even learned that Lord Manderly have been asking for that kind of offer for his grandchildren but not as vocal because he is already an adviser to the king.

"Your Grace," it was Jojen who answered first, "we appreciate the kind offer but I'm sorry we need to decline," he paused, his eyes ever knowing, "our task is here."

"Here?" asked his mother confused.

"We need to stay here in the North, Your Grace," answered Meera, "in Winterfell, with Bran and Rickon."

Queen Lyanna nodded then.

"Well Winterfell is not a bad choice either," answered the queen with an approving nod, "I'll talk to Ned, we knew your father, he's very close to us."

Daeron was confused then, wondering why Bran will stay in Winterfell when it was planned that they are going to visit his cousin Sansa, Bran's own sister in Storms End. He understood that Rickon, his youngest cousin will have to stay because he is still considered a babe but Bran?

"But why would Bran stay in Winterfell?" he asked, "he is coming with us back in the South."

Meera and Jojen exchanged a fleeting look.

"Your Highness, " it was Jojen, "we can't explain, but we know Bran will stay in Winterfell, I've dreamt it."

Daeron saw that his mother gave Jojen a confused look, then it turned into a knowing look, as if she already heard someone say the same thing in the past.

"Your Highness?" he was interrupted by the servant from his thoughts about the siblings.

Daeron turned to look at the man.

"Shall we go?"

"All right," he said then they finally left the chamber, the servant quickly bid his command once outside the door, leaving him to the Kingsguard on his post. His guard for today is Ser Willis Wode and it seems like even the knight prepared for the start of the tourney. His white cloak is clasped with the sigil of his house; three white hedgehogs on a yellow field.

"Are you going to enter the tourney, Ser Willis?" he asked him.

"I will, but I'm going to enter it this afternoon, my prince," answered the knight with a smile.

"Whom are you going to name the queen of love and beauty then? If you win?" asked Daeron curiously.

It was known all over the realm that his father defeated Lord Robert Baratheon on their fourteenth tilt and Ser Barristan on their sixteenth at Lord Whent's great tourney of Harrenhal, just to name his mother Lyanna, the queen of love and beauty, it was a scandal, because it was said that in those times, his mother was already betrothed to Robert while his father's hand is already promised to a Martell princess.

"I think I'm going to name that Karstark girl, or Lady Tyrell, Your HIghness" answered the knight as they continued walking from the hallway going to the yard, "how about you, Your Highness, who will you name if you enter and win in a tourney?"

"I'm going to name my cousin the queen of love and beauty," he answered quickly, imagining Arya wearing a crown of winter roses; that put a smile on his lips.

"Ah, yes, Lady Sansa is still young but she's---"

"I meant Arya," he interrupted the knight, "I'm going to name Arya my queen of love and beauty once I'm tall enough to enter."

The knight gave him a curious look and as they reach the end of the hallway, they came upon the Reed siblings and little Lyanna Mormont from the corner. He saw that Jojen has this piercing look on the knight beside him, as if studying his face then he whispered something with his sister Meera.

Weird, Daeron muttered to himself.

"Daeron!" it was Lya, "I want to ask if Prince Jonothor will enter the tourney?"

The four of them are now walking side by side while Ser Willis followed them from behind.

"I think he's going to enter," nodded Daeron, "he's going to name Lady Margaery his Queen of Love and Beauty."

Lyanna Mormont snorted as they walk from the pavement of the yard and ahead of them, he can see his cousins Rickon and Bran, talking with Monterys Velaryon, Maric and Devan Seaworth and Lyman Darry.

"I bet if Princess Daenerys was here, Prince Jon will name her his queen of love and beauty."

It was known that little Lyanna Mormont likes his aunt more than his future sister in law, even Arya favors the princess but Sansa likes Margaery more.

"Hey cuz," it was Bran, "morning Lya, Jojen and Meera."

He is wearing a riding clothes and his auburn hair is windswept, Daeron suspects that he's been running. He nodded at him with a smile.

"Where's Arya?" he asked.

"I don't know," answered Bran, "the last time I saw her, she's fighting off her septa," him and Rickon giggled.

"It's because her hair are all messed up," added the youngest Stark, laughing.

"Shut up Rickon," cut in a voice behind them and when Daeron turned to look, he was not surprised to see a very crossed looking Arya.

She is wearing a blue gown fashioned in a Northern way and true to the words of her brother; her hair are all tangled up behind her.

"Arya," said Monterys giggling, "what's wrong with your hair?"

Everyone laughed, except Daeron and the Reed siblings.

"Shut up Mont," countered Arya with a snarl, "why don't we just settle this in who's the heaviest because they can't stop eating cakes?" then she snorted, "oh I forgot, I'm no match because you're so fat."

At that, Daeron laughed the hardest and he saw the face of Monterys turning scarlet out of embarrassment as everyone around them joined him.

"Stop it," it was Bran but he is still giggling, "everyone stop it."

But they didn't and Monterys runs towards the Great Hall of the castle.

"Arya," complained Bran, "you're so mean!"

"Well he deserves it," countered Arya.

"And Arya's just telling the truth," added Lyanna, "Mont is really fat."

As everyone are still laughing, his cousin Arya approached him.

"Thanks for sending that septa away, Dae," said Arya with a smile, "I really appreciate it."

To his surprised, she kissed him on the cheeks.

"No problem," he answered looking away because he can't contain the grin tugging on his lips.

"Daeron!" came the voice of his brother and all of them turned to look at Jon as he walks towards them.

His brother is wearing a handsome blood red doublet with sleeves underneath, black trousers, and a heavy boots, he bolted into a run when he's just a few meters away, taking Lyanna Mormont and Arya on his arms, lifting them in the air and twirling them around.

The two girls giggled and when Jon finally stopped, Rickon runs up to him.

"Me too! Me too!" cried his youngest cousin.

"Come here you little dog," said his brother Jon and he lifts up their cousin and did the same earlier but it was extended because obviously, Rickon is much lighter than the two girls.

Daeron was laughing and giggling while looking at them, even Ser Willis and the Lord Commander has smiles on their faces as they look at the Crown Prince then all of a sudden, he catch the color of gold from the entrance of the Great Hall of the castle and there, Daeron saw Lady Margaery, observing his brother Jon with an impassive look.

Ever since Jon returned a day after his aunt vanished, Lady Margaery have been avoiding him and she doesn't smile as often as she used to. Daeron knows something is up. Lady Margaery and her retinue of ladies and her brothers left the castle first, followed by men in court, then the Manderly's and the whole Northern lords then finally them, the whole Targaryen and Stark family and their friends.

"Is there news, father?" asked Daeron when he came upon his father and mother.

The queen and king kissed him first before his father replied.

"There's no news, Daeron," he answered and Daeron noticed that Jon seems to be listening behind them. Jon is walking along with his companions.

"But why would she leave? Did we do something wrong?" he asked, turning to look from his mother then to his father.

King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna exchanged a fleeting look.

"No, of course not," answered the queen, giving him a sheepish smile, "you're aunt loves you dearly but she wants to sail across the narrow sea, you remembered her telling that, right Dae?"

He thought about it and agreed, remembering it well.

"But I don't understand," he countered, thinking that his aunt will not just leave them without even leaving a note behind or saying goodbye, "there's something I don't understand, something is wrong," then he side glance at his brother and when his grey eyes landed on Jon's purple one, he was surprised that he is already looking at him.

"What?" asked Jon, who's only behind the king and the queen.

"Nothing," Daeron blushed.

At the bottom of the Castle stair, horses are waiting for them.

Daeron was given a splendid brown horse and he and his friends galloped ahead once outside the gates of the castle, on their way to the tourney grounds, with Ser Willis following closely behind him. As always Arya was the fastest one and even little Lyanna Mormont is riding better than Monterys.

'Northern girls are really different,' thought Daeron as he, Bran and Lyman followed Arya, behind them, the Seaworth brothers are trailing along with Ser Willis.

An hour later, Daeron was finally seated up on the royal dais with his mother, Queen Lyanna, his father, King Rhaegar and his brother Jon, the Crown Prince. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Wilis Wode, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Richard Lonmouth stands as the guards of the members of the royal family today. Ser Barristan Selmy was away, being charged by his father to lead the search for his aunt Daenerys along with Ser Davos Seaworth and his older sons while Ser Myles Mooton is currently resting on the temporary chamber of the Kingsguard atop one of the tallest towers of New Castle.

As the herald started his pleasantries concerning the royal guest, naming each of the royal family and the host, the men in court, the notable houses such as member/s of houses Stark, Arryn, Greyjoy and the Tyrell's and lastly the Manderly's, the tourney finally started.

"Our place is boring," muttered Jon as he looks down on the seat of the noble houses just below their own, "why can't I go seat with my friends?"

"You'll just cause mischief when you're with your friends Jon," answered their mother quickly, "please stop complaining."

This time, it was Daeron's turn to complain.

"Why can't I seat with my cousins?" he asked, "I won't cause any mischief mother, please?"

Queen Lyanna gave him a baffled look then she turns to her husband for support.

"Rhaegar, aren't you going to say something?" asked the queen, "they're both babbling just now."

His father gave his mother a silent smile; he kissed her first before turning to look at him.

"Daeron, you can go seat with your cousins and friends, but only after the third jouster won," said his father and Daeron smiled, standing up from his small cushioned seat and making the short way towards the king.

"Thank you father," he said, kissing him on the cheek.

King Rhaegar messed up his hair, nodding at him before he made his way back to his place, smiling all the while.

"How 'bout me?" asked his brother all of a sudden, "aren't you going to give me permission?"

This time, Daeron saw that his father gave Jon a regarding look as the noise around below the royal dais erupted as the sight of the first jousters are seen, their squires fetching their shields and lances for them.

"Jonothor, you will be a king someday," came the quiet voice of the king and Daeron knew that when his father talks in a way such as that, he is dead serious, "and your duty to the realm is not something you play with, as well as the heart of the woman you will marry."

Everyone on the dais didn't make a sound, even his mother was pretending to look on the stands below. Only his brother Jon and his father are grazing each other with a chilling look.

"You will make amends with Lady Margaery," said the king, not breaking his stare to the Crown Prince, "we can't lose her too."

At that, his brother finally turned to look away, looking depressed in a blink of an eye. Daeron resumed his position then, looking at the pair of first jousters, the one on the far left seems to be a knight on the service of House Tyrell and the other is a knight on the service of House Manderly because of the golden rose and the merman on their respective shields.

The two knights made their way on the center of the tourney grounds, facing the royal dais and giving their respect to the king. His father gave them a go and then cheers erupted as the start of the tourney started.

Daeron was always amaze watching a joust and in more than one of the many tourneys hosted by his father or his brother in Kings Landing, he often gambled with his cousins and friends, and he always wins. He watched eagerly as the second pair of jousters finally finished (just after five tilts), and when the third pair finally entered, Daeron saw that one of them is Daryn Hornhood.

"So Daryn entered after all," he heard Jon say.

The riders finally entered, giving their respect to the king before putting on their respective helmets and shields.

"It's Daryn's first time entering the list, isn't it brother?" asked Daeron in which Jonothor nodded his head.

"And it will be probably his last," said his brother, "look at the way he carries his lance."

Daeron saw it as well, as pointed out by his father on one of the many jousts they saw together, Daryn's hold on his lance is clumsy and not as firm.

"Is Daryn a good rider, Jon?" asked the queen, who looks equally interested.

"Well he is a northman but he's got an unsteady hands," answered his brother and sure enough, only after the second tilt, Daryn Hornhood fell hard on the ground.

But Daeron didn't mind about Daryn and the crowd laughing at the poor young man, instead, he gave an inquiring look at his father and when King Rhaegar gave him a leave to go, Daeron bolted and run, leaving a trailing Ser Willis on his heels.

He climbed down through the wooden stair quickly like a cat and making his way towards the place of his cousins.

His uncle Lord Eddard Stark is sitting beside Lady Catelyn, his wife; he is wearing a simple doublet of grey underneath a cloak with a pelt of fox on the shoulder blades, on his chest, his uncle is wearing a pin of a snarling direwolf just like what is pinned on his while Lady Catelyn is wearing a much more colorful garb of red gown, her auburn hair is bound to one side and she is also wearing a blue cloak. On the other side, his cousin Robb is sitting handsomely with his wife Lady Jeyne, Robb is wearing something similar with his father while Lady Jeyne is wearing a gown with the colors of her maiden house. Lady Jeyne's brothers are also with her.

Outlined on the same level was the places of other notable noble families of the North and the southron noble families who came with them as well including powerful men of the court but Daeron has no time to look at them because he made his way towards the seat of his younger cousins.

"Daeron!" said Bran, surprised to see him, "why are you here?"

"Father allowed me to spend the duration of the tourney here," he answered taking the position beside Arya and Bran, in which the former smiled at him and he smiled back at her in return, "I'm going to seat here," he declared and his cousins didn't complain.

The morning joust was a blur for Prince Daeron and his cousins; they cheered for a participant whom they thought will win the tilt, asking a servant to serve them food and planning to practice for the next years joust.

"I'm telling you," retorted Arya after hearing his talk with Bran, "the two of you are not tall enough to enter the list."

"I'm going to enter too!" chimed in baby Rickon making the three of them laugh.

"Rickon, ride a proper pony first," answered Bran with a giggle, earning a glare from the youngest Stark.

The day got way more interesting when the afternoon came, after the fifth pair of riders, the herald suddenly appeared in front of the watching crowd. By this time, Daeron along with Bran, Arya, Monterys, Lyanna, Lyman, Rickon and Maric Seaworth are now watching the joust at the place of the commons, closest to the point where the two participants meet.

"Entering the list," cried out the herald excitedly, "entering the list is Prince Jonothor Targaryen of Dragonstone!"

The watching crowd erupted in cheer all around them while Daeron and his friends waited for his brother to appear on the right side of the tilt.

"Jon? Is it Jon?" asked Rickon excitedly as he climbed higher on the fence.

"Who else is the Prince of Dragonstone, idiot," answered Arya quite annoyed, making Daeron smile.

They heard a neighing of a horse and soon enough, his brother finally appeared, riding a white destrier, parading his black armor on the crowd. It was the reminiscent of the armor of his father and some of the women watching his brother are now crying while the men are shouting their hearts out.

"I saw Prince Jon enter a dozen of joust already, I know he's going to win," said Lyman Darry and Maric agreed with him.

After his brother paraded in front of the crowd, his opponent finally appeared. It was one of the knights from the Crownlands named Ser Justin Massey who has been a squire to Robert Baratheon before entering the service of the his brother Jon.

Ser Justin Massey is a large man with pink cheeks, blue eyes and white blond hair pale as flax, his face seems to always ready to smile. Soon enough, the respective squires of the jousters finally bring forth first the shield, the helm and then the lance.

"Devan is getting used to it, isn't he?" asked Maric, "squiring to Prince Jon I mean."

"Yes," answered Daeron, "Devan makes it look easy."

As a younger son of the King, Daeron is a page in the court like all of his friends but there are also a time when he squired for the King himself but it was a disster and it didn't happened again. Edric Dayne, one of the dozen companions of his brother would often squire for Jon and the king too, despite his status as a lord of Starfall, the keep of House Dayne in Dorne.

When both of the riders are finally ready, the game master made his way at the center of the tilt and waving a red flag, the joust finally started.

Closing the helm and kicking the stirrup, his brother's horse neighed in the air before advancing to the opposite side of the tilt. Ser Justin's destrier was doing the same; the lances of both the riders are pointed on the shield as they approach each other.

In one grazing second, the tip of the respective lances crashed on the respective shields of the jousters, splintering in the wind with a crushing sound, pushing both the riders back with it's force but no one lost their balance as they maintained their respective positions.

The number of tilts climbed up to eight and that's when one of the jousters fell to the ground. It was Ser Justin Massey and the crowd is now cheering for his brother including him.

"JON!!" Daeron cried out along with a thousand others.

It was then that the young prince finally saw how well loved by the common folk his brother was. Everyone is cheering lustfully for the Crown Prince; men are losing air in their lungs as they yell the name of the Prince of Dragonstone while ladies are crying and throwing flowers at the foot of his destrier. He wanted to be loved just like the future king of Westeros and that put a smile on his lips, now he is aspiring to be just as good as his brother, or maybe even better.

It was already evening when they made their ascent back to the castle. Daeron was talking to Devan that time after he left his litter, and trailing behind him is his guard, Ser Willis Wode when all of a sudden, the maester of the castle, Maester Theomore walked up towards the king and the queen.

The young prince saw that the old man is talking in a low voice as the procession abruptly stops because of the interruption of the maester. Even Lord Manderly was there and he looks jolly enough. After the old man spoke, his mother suddenly called for him and his brother Jon. He left Devan with their friends, as he made his way towards his mother and father.

"What is it mother?" he asked, by this time, the procession of nobles are now passing them by, the household guards of the castle assisting the traffic.

"You will go directly to the small chamber of the castle," answered the queen.

"But why?" he asked, his voice coming out as annoyed because he can see his friends talking and laughing ahead on the Castle Stair.

"Will that also include me?" chimed in his brother.

"Yes Jon, that will also include you because you're my son too," retorted the queen making their father smirk, "and will the two of you just follow what I tell you?"

"Yes mother," replied Jon in the most sarcastic way that he can muster, his eyes also trailing to his companions who are now walking up ahead of them, "come on brother, let's do what mother is asking, after all she's the queen."

The queen made a face after hearing that, making their father giggle but Jon already made his ascent so he doesn't witness any of that. Daeron followed him with the two Kingsguard at their back.

"Jon!" he called out and the group of nobles ahead, gave way for him to pass through to reach his brother faster.

Prince Jonothor stopped on his tracks to wait for him and once catching up, his brother messed up his hair.

"It's good that you now question mother," Jon said as they continued their way up to the castle, with all the city folk watching them. The city guards are lined up to the either side of them, barring anyone that will come across.

"Why is it good?" asked Daeron.

"Because it means you have a brain," answered Jon as they reach the Castle Stair, the bowls of burning whale cradled by the marble mermaids at the either side of the pavement are lighting their way up to the Hilltop, "in the near future, you will question your own decisions too."

Daeron heard a stiffness on his brothers voice that required him to give Jon a puzzled look.

"You sound like Robb," Daeron commented.

The Crown Prince chuckled.

"Well that must be the Stark blood running in my veins," his brother answered, turning to look at him with a half-smile, "you have that too, brother."

He nodded at that but they remained silent as they neared the top of the hill with the two Kingsguards, Ser Willis Wode and Ser Richard Lonmouth trailing behind them.

Once at the castle proper, they turned to the direction of one of the tallest towers where the small chamber is located; as the name inquires, the small chamber is a smaller than the Great Hall of the castle but its walls are closer together, giving it an intimate setting, paintings of past lords of the house are hanging on its walls and there is also a huge circular table on the center and scattered cushioned seats fashioned as a merman.

Once inside, the two brothers saw a long haired man looking at one of the paintings with his back on them and Daeron was surprised when his brother spoke.

"Lord Domeric Bolton?"

And indeed, it was lord Domeric Bolton, the heir of Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, the one reason why the Royal family is in the North. Daeron have seen him only a handful of times in Kings Landing and in Winterfell and he considered Lord Domeric melancholic, almost as melancholic as his father.

"Ah, Your Highnesses," answered Lord Domeric who's wearing a coat with a wolfs fur, bowing his head ever slightly "I was expecting King Rhaegar and the queen, might I know where are they?"

He and his brother finally entered the Small Chamber, with Daeron taking the seat farthest to where Jon and Lord Domeric is standing. He's observing the two as they talk in front of him.

"So this is the reason why mother wants us to go directly here," said Jon, "to meet you."

"I'm afraid that is, my prince," answered Lord Bolton, "I'm sorry I bothered---"

"No, no, of course not my lord," cut in his brother, smiling sheepishly, "you are a great friend of my mother, I know this is important with her but Daeron protested earlier," the two men turned to look at him. Daeron quickly straightened up on his seat to object, "my lord, it's a pleasure to see you again," he smiled and he hoped it didn't come up as a fake but when the young prince saw that Lord Domeric's pale eyes relaxed, he knew that his courtesies have improved.

A few moments later, his mother and father finally arrived with Lord Manderly and his uncles, Lord Stark and Benjen Stark. Queen Lyanna gave her friend a big hug, laughing all the while and King Rhaegar embraced Lord Domeric like a brother while Lord Manderly and his uncles exchanged words of pleasantries, if you can call that pleasant by a southron ways. After that, they finally learned that the reason why the marriage between Lord Domeric and one of the daughters of Lord Jon Umber have been planned is because he got her pregnant.

"We were invited at the Last Hearth Lya," explained Domeric, he is seating close next to the Queen, like he is one of his uncles, "and I got so drunk I don't think I'll recognize you even face to face like this and when I woke up the next morning, she's already on the side of my bed, we're both naked."

"Ah Dom, I think its high time you get yourself a wife," commented the queen, embracing and kissing him at the top of his head, "did Lord Umber threatened to kill you?" she asked in a jest.

"Not only him, his uncles and son too once they found out I got Allysa pregnant," answered Lord Bolton with a smile, "father quickly approved when Lord Umber asked for a marriage and they wanted to do it that night when half of the Umbers visited us at Dreadfort but I told them I want to invite you and your family, I reminded them I was close to you."

"You still are Dom," answered the queen with a smile, "and will always will be."

After half an hour of more talk, they finally made their way to the Great Hall to join the feast and Daeron joined his friends then. He has a smile on his lips to see all of them happy; his brother Jon dancing with Lady Tyrell who seems to be in a better mood now, his mother and father seating at the lords table with Lord Bolton, Lord Manderly and his uncles Lord Eddard and Benjen Stark, his friends betting on the next days joust, his cousins all in one table and all the people inside the Great Hall chattering happily but when Daeron turned to look at the nearby window, he saw nothing but darkness.

'It seems like the darkness is eating out the light,' he said to himself, 'and it's growing.'

He was taken back to reality when he heard Rickon crying.

"I want Shaggy!" cried his little cousin, throwing a fit near the seat of Lady Catelyn, Daeron smiled when he saw Arya's annoyed face.

"The direwolves are running free at the Godswood back in Winterfell Rickon," explained his aunt by law, "do you want to go home with me and your father tonight?"

"Oh please take the baby home, he is really annoying," answered Arya but Rickon snapped at her with a fierce conviction that settled his answer.

"I don't want to go! I want to stay here with Daeron and Jon!"

That night after the feast, Lord Stark along with Lady Catelyn left for Winterfell and when the morning came, there was still no news about his aunt Daenerys that worried him and by the looks of his face, his father too but not Jon, who's now affectionately close to Lady Tyrell again and he heard that Jon told their father that he's going to name Lady Tyrell as the queen of love and beauty.

"Like you did when you won the tourney at Harrenhal, father," said Jon, his eyes saying something that Daeron can't quite comprehend.

And it seems like Jon was indeed serious on naming Lady Margaery as the queen of love and beauty because as the day's passes by, his brother never failed at the joust, defeating his opponents with a new type of vigor. When he asked him one night how he does that, winning every tilt, the Crown Prince showed him the golden cloth tied on his wrist.

"It's because of this, Daeron," he answered, "it's a favor from Margaery, giving me all the luck in the world, one day you will ask a lady for her favor too, when you're tall enough to enter the joust."

Daeron believes every word of his brother and he imagined wearing a blue cloth on his wrist, his eyes trailing towards Arya on the next table.

Arya's is wearing a simple gown of grey that night, her hair was braided by the Queen herself; she was forced to follow through because her septa told her mother and aunt about Arya fighting her off and his own command to leave his cousin alone, it was fashioned in a way like those of the Southron ladies.

"Father said he plans to betroth you to Arya," said his brother who's unknown to Daeron have followed his gaze, "you're lucky that the girl you like might be the girl that will be your wife someday, not all of us are as lucky as you and House Stark is not a deceitful house, they don't care about the game."

Daeron was surprised and quite glad to hear about him and Arya being betrothed someday but he frowned when he heard the last word of his brother.

"What game are you talking about brother?" he asked turning to look at him and when he saw his brothers reaction, he saw that he looks regal.

"The game of thrones brother," answered Jon, confusing him even more, "almost everyone wants to be a player in the game, outwitting one piece, replacing others and even dispatching another by some kind of careful planning" he paused, leaning closer to him, "remember brother, you might be a king someday, or someone in your line," it was the first time that Jon looked at him that way, "when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, there is no middle ground," he smiled after that, pulling away a little bit, "you're lucky that House Stark is not that kind of family," he kissed Daeron at the top of his head before walking towards the table of the Tyrell's opposite them to ask Lady Margaery for a dance.

At the last day of the tourney, Daeron replaced Devan as the squire of his brother after begging the permission of his father.

"But why would you like to squire for Jon?" asked his father the night before, "you can squire for me instead; so that you can learn a lot more that will help you with your duties as a prince to the realm."

"Father, please just let me do it," he begged, he doesn't even know why he wanted it, Daeron guessed that he just want to be part of the last day of the tourney, "this can be your apology for not letting me go with Jon to the Wall." It was true, after the tourney, Jon will travel to the Wall with his dozens of friends, the Lord Commander and Ser Oswell Whent and their uncle, Benjen Stark. He cried when his father said no when he asked if he could go with Jon but the king promised him that he is going to visit the Wall someday, when he's more taller and he settled for that because he trust his father.

The queen shook her head but the king agreed to Daeron nonetheless that's why at the start of the last day of the tourney, he is being instructed by Devan before the joust of his brother.

"It's actually easy Daeron," said Devan, "it's just like fetching his things, I suggest you arrange it ahead of time so that you will not be confused later on."

He took that advise and laid out the shields, lances, his brothers metal armor and even feeding his brothers horse. It was tiring for him but he endured it all for the sake of his brother, without the help of Devan even though he insisted.

"I need to do this alone Devan, that's my duty as a squire," he answered, dismissing his friend for any further protest.

Hours later when his brother finally entered their tent at the back of the stadium, Daeron quickly got to work. The Crown Prince didn't speak, but his eyes followed him with an amused grin as he fetch his armours one at a time.

"Why are you not talking, Jon?" he asked him, as he locked the cuirass on the right side of Jon's chest, "does it not fit?"

His brother chuckled before responding, "its fits nicely brother, you're doing a good job squiring for me but please finish it quickly, I'm about to enter the field."

"Ah, of course," answered Daeron, doubling his speed.

After a few more of a hurried steps, Daeron finally finished, Jon turned to look at the mirror, admiring his work.

"Now, to win the tourney," he muttered more to himself then after that the brothers walked out of the tent with their two Kingsguard at their post just outside; Ser Myles Mooton and Ser Oswell Whent.

"Repeating history Jon?" asked the latter.

"I will Ser, for my lady love," answered his brother confidently as he mounted his horse, "Daeron, don't forget my shield, lance, and my helm, bring them forth before the tilt begins."

"I will Your Highness," Daeron answered, addressing his brother with the same title as his, "I'll be watching at the sidelines."

Jon nodded and when they heard the game master, Daeron saw him kick his horse and the animal quickly obliged.

"He is as willful as the queen, isn't he Myles?" asked Ser Oswell as the three of them walk towards the wooden stadium, at the place of the squires of the riders.

"Willful yes, but not as determined," Ser Myles shared a look with Ser Oswell before turning to look at Daeron who have seen the fleeting glance between the two knights, "I think it's our little prince right here who got the determination of both his mother and father." Daeron didn't got that at first but soon he will, when determination is the only thing that can save him and his friends.

The day was a hard one, especially for the remaining riders. All of them wanted to win but at the end of the day, only Jonothor and Ser Arys Oakheart remained.

"Water!" cried out his brother removing his dragon helm after the exhausting fight with Harrold Arryn, whom he defeated at their eleventh tilt.

Daeron run up towards Jon, with him is a waterskin; Jon drunk on it for three times before giving it back to him.

"Last one," said his brother, his voice almost exhausted, "last one and I will finally name Margaery my queen of love and beauty."

"Why are you so determined to win her that flower crown?" asked Daeron, turning to look at the place of the Tyrells on the upper stands, beside the place of the Stark's to see Lady Margaery looking down on them with her pretty cousins beside her.

"Father wanted me to make amends with Margaery right? For my stupidity of--" he cut himself off, shaking his wet hair, sweat is dripping on his face like a water faucet, "Daeron, ready the lances now, the joust is about to start."

He nodded and went towards his place with the two Kingsguard and waited.

"Now for the last pair of riders," cried out the herald and the crowd waited for the names, "Ser Arys from House Oakheart, the youngest son of Lady Arwyn Oakheart, the Lady of Old Oak from the Reach," the cheer was unexpectedly loud, after the noise died down, the herald turned to look at the direction of his brother before addressing the crowd once again, "on the other side is Prince Jonothor of Dragonstone, the Crown Prince and the heir to the Iron Throne!" the crowd was louder, more boisterous and wilder.

The game master appeared after the crowd's noise died down (it was a very long time) and after the two riders gave their respect to the King, they returned to their respective line, opposite to each other with the long wooden fence between them.

"Daeron, my lance and my shield," ordered his brother and the younger prince quickly obliged. Bringing the shield first then the lance despite how heavy the armor's were, he endured it all.

When the red flag was raided, the riders both kicked their stirrups and in a blink of an eye, they are now going towards each other, their respective lances are ready to knock off their opponent but when shields met the tip of the lances, it instead splinter into a hundred pieces, earning a chorus of gasps with the watching crowd.

When his brother rode back towards their side of the tilt, Daeron saw that after Jon took off his helm to shake the sweat on his face and hair, he is already half exhausted and when he made his way towards him with the lance, his brother frowned when he saw his expression.

"I'm all right brother," he told him, "I've been in a worse condition, I'm going to pull through, don't you worry about me ok?" his brother offered a quick smile before putting on the helm and taking the lance to him.

And so the jousting continued, the number of tilts run up to ninth and it seems like his brother and Ser Arys Oakheart would go on forever but on the tenth tilt, the older knight fell hard with a crunching sound, and the cheer of the crowd was deafening. Daeron was one of them, clapping his hands, calling out his brother and at one time, he jumped too. He joined the other squires in the nearby camp, singing with them and he even drink with them while his guards are watching close by.

"Prince Daeron," called out Ser Oswell Whent, "will you watch the crowning? It's about to start."

Daeron already knew whom Jon will crown as his queen of love and beauty but he left the company of the squires to watch the scene unfold in front of him.

The Crown Prince was atop his destrier, the shield and lance now gone on his hand and arm, instead, he is holding a garland of golden roses, warm as summer, he kicked his horse and the intelligent animal obliged, making its way towards the stand of the Tyrell's and from there, Daeron saw the faint smile of Lady Margaery as Jon offered her the flower crown and in a blink of an eye, Lady Margaery was finally named the Queen of Love and Beauty, the crown of golden roses now atop her long wavy brown hair.

The crowd cheered even louder after the crowning, it rang in all the corners of the realm, ravens bearing the news that Prince Jonothor named his betrothed his queen of love and beauty but they never expected the news after the successful tourney at White Harbor.

Daeron was actually inside the Great Hall that time, he is talking with his fellow squires, whom he invited on his own table to accommodate their number. Everyone was having a good time. The King and the Queen are seated on the highest dais, his Stark relatives along with the other families belonging to the Great Houses of Westeros are seating below the royal dais with the Manderly's, as a respect because they are the host of the event and the rest are scattered, more of the visitors are cramped outside the Great Hall. He is listening to the story of one of the squires when Theon Greyjoy, Tristifier Botley and Harrold Arryn entered the hall, the three of them bowed drunkenly.

"Your Grace, King Rhaegar and our most precious Queen Lyanna," slurred Theon, "might I introduce, Prince Jonothor Targaryen with his newly wed wife, Princess Margaery Tyrell, the future king and queen of Westeros."

Everyone was appalled beyond relief and Daeron was sure that this was a jest but when his brother entered, his arm entwined with Margaery, with the procession of Margaery's ladies in waiting, Daeron realized that it was not a jest as he saw the black cloak now covering Lady Tyrell's shoulder.

'It's a wedding cloak,' said Daeron to himself.

Lady Margaery is wearing a fantastic green gown patterned with thorns and leaves at the hem, with the balloon fashioned as a long leaf. She is still wearing her crown of golden roses and she seems to be shining from the inside while his brother is now wearing a black doublet, a head of a dragon stitched on the right side of his chest, his belt has the head of wolves clashing together and his boots are muddy but his dark hair is on a bun and for the first time in a long while, he is wearing his crown, a slender silver band, a simple circlet, ornamented with seven red rubies equally apart from each other.

Everyone was silent, all of the eyes are turned towards the apparently newlyweds. Daeron can see that Lady Margaery's face is flushed while his brother is smiling.

"I asked for a sign," said his brother and thankfully, he's not drunk or else it will be a big scandal, "if I win the joust, I'll marry Margaery Tyrell tonight," he kissed her at the cheeks before continuing, "and I won so we finally said our vows in front of a heart tree like when my father married my mother at the Isle of Faces."

The Northmen was the loudest in the crowd, cheering and hooting.

"Margaery is now a princess of the realm and she's going to be my queen someday."

It was the men from the Reach who were the loudest after that declaration.

"Aren't we going to celebrate?"

And celebrate they did until something unexpected happened. A few minutes before Daeron departs for his bed, a new set of refreshments was brought, servants carrying silver platters expertly. It happened so fast that Daeron suddenly find himself being shoved back behind Ser Oswell as Lord Domeric Bolton, who was sitting beside the queen, talking and laughing with his mother, suddenly choked. Ser Arthur Dayne was fast enough to throw away the goblet on his father's hands who already drink the wine just seconds ago and there was a commotion and a minute after, the only sound that Daeron can hear is the sound of mourning, the cries of her mother filling his ears.

"No!" it was her mother, "this can't be, no!"

Chapter 9: Jonothor I

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The hour is late and the northern wind was blowing softly from the north, the night breeze was cold but his fur protects him from the worst of it. The night sky is full of stars and the moon was already on the far corner of the realm, threatening to vanish in a matter of minutes.

He is running, his powerful legs were tireless as he roamed the forest, his own forest, his own kindgom. He likes the feel of his paws pounding on the ground; it makes him feel like he is part of it, the wind, the trees, the river and everything else in between but he is careful not to get close to the path where men used for their game, he knows that they have swords, shiny and sharp swords that can kill him in one swing, or even the arrow that killed a deer or a boar, he witness it often and he learned from what he saw.

As he continues to run, searching for a prey, the wind suddenly shifted from the east and he stopped, sniffing the air, hoping for a smell of a prey but it was not the smell of four legged animal that he expected.

The smell was coming from men, reeking with their strong odor. He can smell them, two, three, four, more, there are more of them, he followed the trail curiously and it led him to one of the many clearings of the forest that he roams at night.

From the bush that he's hiding, he saw ragged looking men with poor type of clothing's. He knows these types of people; ravage and hardy, they are the folk from beyond the wall and they are talking, he can't understand them but he waited for one of them to stray away from the group, so that he can have a chance to tore his throat and eat his soft and warm flesh and drink his blood.

"So's true?"

"Yes, he's goin' to th' Wall"

"He's goin' to be guarded by those fancy Kingsguard, the Lord Commander 'cluded as well as his noble friends"

"Wha' d'you reckon th' King Beyond the Wall will say 'bout this?"

"Say 'bout this? It's not wha' he'll say, it's wha' he's goin' to do"

"Slyrr's 'ight, it's a rare thing tha'a princelin' will travel to th' wall"

"O' Beyon' th' Wall," said another, his voice quite sneaky.

He suddenly heard horses approaching the group of wildlings. The wildlings are in the clearing of the wolfswood, close to the grey castle where his litter-brothers and litter-sisters are locked up. He can hear them almost every night but he dared not to go closer because it was full of people, people that can cut him in half.

"Wer' goin' back to th' Wall now," a rough voice has said, one of the mounted ones and he saw from where he is hiding that he is a big man, "Prince Jonothor's party will be slower," then he turned to look at the scrawny looking lad, "you sure tha' Mance camp's close to Craster's Keep? "

"When I lef' 'em, yes," answered the lad, his voice thin.

"You better not be lyin' boy, or else I'll cut you' throat with this dirk whe'see you 'gain"

He saw a flash of metal from the sheath of the dirk where it was been withdrawn by the man and he heard the gasp of the scrawny looking lad when he saw it, the lad even stepped back a little.

"I'm no' lyin', I'm no' lyin'," said the lad hopelessly, earning chuckles from the men around him then the man atop the horse sheathed back the shiny dirk.

"Stay alert an' stay low," said the man who seems to be the leader of the mounted wildlings, "stay hidden on the trees," then he turned to his fellow mounted riders, "let's go, Mance will be waiting."

The mounted wildlings finally left, leaving a few of their brothers behind, and as the night wore on, those numbers were soon reduced as the others left the clearing and he waited for his time until only three of them were left behind and that's when he made his move.

He felt the ground shakes as his paws made pounded it and with his every step, he's getting closer to the three wildlings now seating on an upturned roots and a boulder of stone.

It was too late when one of them saw him.

"A monster!" it was the scrawny looking lad and he quickly bolted leaving the other two behind.

'I'll catch you later,' he said to himself.

He snarled and jump towards the bearded one who withdraws a dagger from its hilt, but he is slow, by the time he raised his weapon to cut him, he is already tearing his throat open, making him drown with his own blood, making an ugly gurgling sound. Leaving the dying bearded man, he turned towards the other one.

The other man, a bald one, is already getting ready to attack and in a blink of an eye, he swung his axe but he was able to dock, crouching down below, snarling and baring his teeth and he jumped towards the sword hand of the man, devouring it, tearing the whole arm from his shoulder.

"Ahhhhh!!" cried the bald man hysterically, trying to cover the blood that's coming out from the hole on the shoulder blade on his right. He quickly ended him by lunging at his throat.

It was then that he tasted blood and he's thinking if he should get the scrawny looking lad who ran earlier and soon enough, he decided not to, his victims are full grown men with lots of fats and the smell of blood is already thick in the air, he's going to feast tonight. As he started on the bearded man, devouring on his soft flesh he was suddenly interrupted, he heard one of his brothers howling from the castle, a sad howl.

'He must still be locked up,' he said to himself then he answered him, a long howl of satisfaction and a success kill and soon enough, the night air in the North was mingled with the sound of direwolves howling.

That's when Jon woke up and for a moment from his dream, he was lost, lost to dreams and reality. He remembered tasting blood, and the talk of wildings but his memory is slipping, like a fine sand on his hand, it was slowly dripping away and hard as he wants to remember every bit of detail, it was gone then he felt someone from his side and remembered then that he is with his wife, Lady Margaery Tyrell.

Margaery is sleeping peacefully beside him, unaware of the sound of wolves.

'Let her rest,' said someone inside his head while he looks at the beautiful face of his wife; her unblemished skin, her lips, her labored breathing, and her shapely body that he can see from the see through night dress that she's wearing. His cock was already hard but he didn't dare to wake her up just only to satisfy his sexual needs.

He wanted her to rest, the past two weeks have been hard for them all.

Domeric Bolton was poisoned inside the halls of New Castle, it brought misery to all the North especially to House Bolton and House Umber. His father the King, was lucky enough to be saved by the Lord Commander by hitting him in the chest, making King Rhaegar spurt out the small liquid that he sipped seconds before from his mouth.

It was a horrific sight, seeing his father coughing, Jon was afraid that the poison might have gotten inside the king, as the Lord Commander tried to sooth him from the his hard coughs. He was afraid, afraid that King Rhaegar will have the same fate as Domeric.

'If he dies, they're going to crown me and the responsibility of the realm will fall on my shoulders,' he thought to himself as he stared at his father being cradled by the Lord Commander, 'I'm not ready, not yet.'

The Kingsguards and half of the guards of New Castle are also there, all alert and waiting for an order. All around them, the cries of horror are indeed horrifying and saddest of them all was his mother the queen.

She is cradling the purple head of Domeric Bolton, her childhood friend and whom she considers as a brother. Her wails seems could go on forever and Jon found himself making his way towards her.

"Mother," he said, "Domeric Bolton is dead."

She embraced him that night and he returned it, hugging her with his strong arms, muttering soothing words. Everyone were looking at them, he also heard his father to everyone's relief, seeking Daeron and Jon saw that his brother is guarded by Ser Oswell.

"Ser Oswell," he heard his father say, standing up, supported by the Lord Commander, "please bring Daeron on his chamber and don't leave him."

"Yes Your Grace," answered the knight and his brother and his Kingsguard left the Great Hall with a few number of household guards of House Manderly following on their trail as well as his younger cousins and Daeron's friends.

When the news broke out; of the attempted murder to his father and mother and the death of Lord Bolton's heir, the north was in a frantic state. The Umber's roared for justice and retribution while Lord Bolton was as cold as ice as they deliver the body of his son and heir.

His mother and father along with half of the court stayed at Dreadfort on the funeral of Domeric. His uncles Lord Stark and Benjen were also there but it was the latter who returned home, after just a day of staying at the fortress of the Red Kings of the past.

"Roose have become silent as a crypt," said his uncle when he returned, his face unsmiling, "he is fond of his boy, Domeric is his only true born son and heir of his house."

They are standing in front of the heart tree of the castle, along with his brothers in law, Willas and Ser Garlan Tyrell, his cousin Robb and Harrold Arryn, his guard, Ser Myles Mooton is sitting on a rock not far away from them.

"Was that a bad sign?" asked Willas, "I mean, we didn't really know who did it."

"No, he is not blaming anyone my lord," answered Benjen, "but you can't really know what's going inside the head of a father who lost his son on the company of his friends."

The way his uncle have said it, he knows that something is up and it was proven true when the next night, when the Tyrell's are away. Benjen Stark whispered to him on the table that there was a talk that the household of Dreadfort is blaming his wife's family for the deed.

"They said that the Tyrell's want the throne now, seeing that your wife is already pregnant and you married her that same night when Dom died, that's why they wanted the king dead and the queen too, but something awry happened and the cup of Lyanna was passed to Domeric and the poison that was meant to kill your father never entered his throat."

"I don't believe that," Jon said that night with conviction, "the Tyrell's have been living with us since my father won the throne, they are our friends uncle."

"I know that," answered Benjen who's got a grim look on his face, "but that was the talk around the household of the castle and I bet it already reach Roose ears even before we arrived at the Dreadfort."

Jon wanted to say that his uncle was as dour as the castle of the Bolton's but he decided against it. He wished he'll never see it again.

That were the things running on his mind as he lay beside his wife who's already pregnant with their first child, he run his thumb on a circle motion on Margaery's belly, thinking about the words of his uncle, that the Tyrell's planned all of this but he knows they didn't do it. House Tyrell is an ambitious house but they are not cruel... or maybe he was wrong.

"I refused to believe it," he muttered to himself, thinking of his child, a half Tyrell who's going to seat on his father's throne one day, "it's not the Tyrell's."

"Hmmm," moaned Margaery after a few seconds, "you are deep in thoughts, my love," her voice was thick of sleep.

"I am," he admitted and he realized then that the howling of the wolves has stopped.

"Why?" her brown eyes are now fluttered open, he kissed her on the forehead before responding.

"I'm just thinking about some things."

"You're having second thoughts of going to the Wall?" asked Margaery, her voice full of hope.

Margaery was against it, him visiting the Wall but he can't break his promise to the Lord Commander of Castle Black, Jeor Mormont and to his uncle Benjen, who's going to ride with them later this afternoon. Margaery wanted him to come with her to Dragonstone along with his mother while his father and his little brother will be heading to Riverrun and from there, King Rhaegar will travel to Dragonstone while Daeron will be going to Kings Landing with half of the court. The Queen Dowager, sent letters that he misses Daeron dearly that's why their father decided that it's best to send Daeron to the capital as fast as possible.

"Margaery, we already talked about this," he said, "I'll be back, don't you worry about me."

She sighed, burying her head to his chest, inhaling his scent and snaking her hands on his.

"Be sure to come back soon," she said,

Jon chuckled at that.

"I'm still here, I'm not leaving yet."

He didn't get a reply because he found out later on that Margaery is already fast asleep.

He's going to admit, he thought of running away with Daenerys just a month ago and he didn't even considered the chaos that it will bring and the feelings of Margaery too. He was too in love with his own aunt but it turned out that Daenerys doesn't, considering that she left him. A number of times, he wondered what it would be like if it was Daenerys he married in front of the heart tree of Winterfell, that night they shared their last bed.

'It's going to be a sad union probably,' he said to himself.

When the princess vanished, he thought that it was for the best but as the days flew past and when he saw the worried look of his father and little brother, he realized that it was his entire fault, damn, he even thought to himself that the attempted poisoning of his mother and father was his fault as well.

"Why am I blaming myself?" he asked hopelessly, thinking about the recent lost on House Targaryen.

The next day, as everyone was busy for their departure, Jonothor made his way towards the yard where his companions are getting ready for the long and cold road up to the Wall, Ser Richard Lonmouth is his guard for today before he left for the Wall.

Cley Cerwyn, Daryn Hornhood, Lucas Blackhood, Robar Royce and Eddard Karstark were the ones that will accompany him to the Wall. His cousin Robb will stay at Winterfell along with Eddard Karstark's younger brother, Torrhen while Horas Redwyne will accompany his wife to Dragonstone. Theon Greyjoy and Tristifier Botley will visit Iron Islands and Harrold Arryn will be making his way to Riverrun to meet his mother, Lady Lysa Arryn along with the young lord of Starfall, Edric Dayne, who's going to accompany his brother Daeron to Kings Landing.

Ser Oswell and the Lord Commander is going to be his guards too, he insisted to his father that Ser Arthur Dayne should be with him while Ser Oswell should be with Daeron but King Rhaegar is having none of it, telling him that the knights both requested to accompany him, to visit an old friend in the Wall, Jon realized then that the old friend that they were talking about is the previous Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower who was been sent to the Wall because of his attempted kidnapping of Queen Lyanna, who was still a princess back then at Dragonstone during the war of King Rhaegar and King Aerys.

"We'll see each other again when, Jon?" asked Tristifier, they are both standing side by side outside a wooden fence erected recently on the yard.

"When I get back, Tris," Jon replied, "Lord Mormont have been asking for a visit from father and I think I'm not a poor substitute, don't you think?"

Tristifier smiled at him.

"The Lord Commander will surely be disappointed," he said as Theon Greyjoy and the taller Eddard Karstark started their sword duel, but only using a blunted swords.

"That is for sure," the iron lander quipped, returning the smile.

To get his mind off from everything that has happened, he joined them when Theon offered it smugly, because the iron born has the most winning streak on the sword practice. Removing his upper clothes like everyone else inside the fence, exposing his lean muscle and powerful arms, his hand becoming a part of the sword and winning almost every duel, defeating the smug looking Theon Greyjoy who's after losing his the duel, his face turns unsmiling and even angry. Jon was all sweat and dirt by the time his cousin, Robb Stark arrived from a hunt but instead of a satisfied look on his face, he's got a troubled one when he joined them on the yard.

"What is it?" Jon asked him after putting on a white long sleeve shirt given by a squire.

His cousins knitted brows are full of questions and doubts; he is frowning when he answered him.

"We saw bodies of what seems to be wildlings, inside the wolfswood," Robb answered him.

"Wildlings? Wolfswood? This close to Winterfell?" Jon replied, his face now etched with concern too.

If wildlings can come up so far as wolfswood, unnoticed and undetected, then perhaps the problem up in the Wall must be indeed important and urgent.

"That's not the problem Jon," countered Robb as the noise behind them grew louder, because they matched up Edric Dayne to the stableboy named Hodor, who seems to be unmoving, even when the crowd have circled him, telling him to fight.

"Then what's the problem Robb?" he asked his cousin.

"The problem is that they were eaten by some foul beast, a monster," replied his cousin, his voice unbelieving, "a direwolf, bigger than any of ours."

"A direwolf?" said Jon quite appalled, "so that must be the one howling almost every night!"

"Yes, I think that's him, Grey Wind followed the scent but it seems like he knows it," said his cousin, his face deep in thought.

"So you are saying that it's one of his litter brother or sister?" asked Jon but then from the entrance of the Great Hall, his father the King along with the lord Hand, Jon Connington, his uncles Eddard and Benjen and one of the advisers of the king, Lord Randyll Tarly came out.

It seems like the noble men are talking about something and when King Rhaegar saw Jon, he gestured for him to go with them, Jon asked his cousin Robb and Harrold Arryn to accompany him. King Rhaegar told him that if he is one day going to a council or something similar, he should bring men around him, powerful men that can advise him.

They made their way to the upper bailey of Winterfell, where it overlooks the courtyard of the castle below where his brother Daeron and his friends are helping Rickon to ride a horse properly. Daeron looks so happy, laughing with Bran and one of the Seaworth brothers and then there's Arya and little Lyanna Mormont who's helping Rickon with his horse under the watchful eyes of Ser Rodrik.

"Jon," said his father, taking him back to the present, "I'm afraid we're going to be at war soon."

"War?" asked Jon who gave Robb and Harrold a fleeting look, "this soon?"

"Yes," answered the King, turning to look at Jon Connington.

"We received reports from Dorne," said the lord Hand, "Dorne are strengthening the Boneway and the Prince Pass, and there are also reported movements from Westerlands, House Martell and House Lannister seems to be getting ready for war."

"Well did we already sent letters to them, asking about these sudden movements?" asked Jon, quite in denial about the situation that they were soon to be in.

"We already did," answered Jon Connington, "House Lannister answered that it's because they heard reports of movements on the Iron Islands while House Martell didn't even bother to answer."

"So that is why Theon and Tris will go to the Iron Island's, isn't it my lord?" asked Harrold Arryn, "they are going to find out what's really going on."

"Yes, that is right," answered the lord Hand, eyeing the blond man.

It is known that Lord Jon Connington interest are with young handsome men and Jonothor can see that from the looks of the lord Hand, Harrold can pass as one of his boys but Harrold is not just a boy, he is the future of House Arryn, something Lord Connington can't bribe or influence.

"We also thought that it's best that Bran will be sent to Horn Hill as Lord Randyll's ward," added the red head lord.

"Horn Hill?" countered his cousin Robb, his face turning confused, "I meant no offense Lord Tarly but your lands are closer to Dorne than any of us here, if there's an--"

"You don't have to worry about it, boy," Lord Tarly cut him off rather too sharply, "Highgarden and Brightwater Keep are only a few days ride from my castle, if Horn Hill will be sieged, do you think I'll let my lady wife, three daughters and my son to suffer inside?"

Jonothor saw that Robb straightened, as if the words of the Marcher lord have made sense to him while his uncle, Eddard remains passive and his other uncle, Benjen is looking at the courtyard below, entirely ignoring the exchange of words.

"This will be over soon," said his father, cutting off the tension that was formed between Robb and Lord Tarly, "I've sent letters to Lord Jon Arryn in Kings Landing to assemble soldiers that will be ready if fighting broke out and Lord Tully is also preparing for an open battle with the West, backed by your father," the king turned to look at Harrold, "Lord Elbert with the mounted knights from the Vale."

"And the North?" asked Jon.

"The Northern army will be reserved for any future battles, nephew," answered his uncle Ned, "if Dragonstone is threatened, Manderly ships will be sent to counter the attack on the island, it will be expected that our enemies will target your keep, considering that Lyanna and Lady Margaery will both stay there for the duration of the war."

"That is why we need to keep every member of your family apart from each other," said the lord Hand, turning to look at Jonothor, "House Martell and House Lannister has only a limited number of army, they can't attack the same place at the same time, that is our advantage with them, that is why Queen Lyanna and Princess Margaery will both stay at Dragonstone, Prince Daeron, Arya Stark and Queen Rhaella in Kings Landing, Brandon Stark in Horn Hill and Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey Baratheon will keep the Stormlands neutral, that is the plan now."

"So father and I will be at the field?" he asked, all eyes on him.

"Yes, after you get back from the Wall, to hear the plea of Lord Mormont personally," answered the king.

Jonothor nodded and he must admit that it was a wise decision, because they are scattered, the hammer of the attack of the enemy will likewise be scattered, making them weak. Kings Landing can withstand a dornish army if they plan to attack the city, the Eyrie and Riverrun can match the army of the west and if something awry happens, House Tyrell can supplement troops from both the Crownlands and Riverlands and they still have an army reserve in the North, just waiting to be unleashed but at the back of the Crown Prince mind, something is missing, something is wrong, but he dared not to contest the plan of the Hand. Lord Connington is also known to be prickly and easily offended.

After their talk about the coming battles, everyone left him and the King except his uncles Ned and Ben. There they are, the four of them, looking at the courtyard below, the servants doing their work and the guards on their post. It was almost peaceful, but the Crown Prince knows something is up, by the way his uncle's look and the sigh that his father made after the Lord Hand and Lord Tarly left them.

"So what is the problem now?" asked Jon, "I know there is something you're not telling me."

"This is a hard time for our family," answered the king, still looking below the courtyard, "I do not wish for all of these, I tried to stop it but I guess it's bound to happen," his father then turned to look at Lord Eddard.

"Ned, I'm sorry that Bran will be used as a piece on my Hand's plans," apologized his father, "but think of it, your second son will grow up as a ward of Lord Tarly along with his son and heir, little Dickon, the future lord of Horn Hill and Bran is the nephew of Lyanna and Lady Arryn, the grandson of Lord Tully and he is a Stark, you might not like this but Bran can marry a daughter of a southron lord, have a keep of his own in the Reach, strengthening ties for House Stark to a noble family of the south, like when you married Cat."

"You're Grace, you don't need to explain anything, Bran is a Stark, you said it yourself and he is duty bound to help the family, he will understand when he grows up," answered his uncle.

There was a silence.

"I have taken enough of your family," said the king shaking his head disappointedly, returning to look at the courtyard, "Sansa, Arya and now Bran, I will make sure that Rickon won't become a piece on the Game of Thrones, I will not burden you any longer."

Jon knows at the back of his mind that this couldn't be, families such as House Stark will now forever endure the burden of the Iron Throne since the union of his mother and father. He knows that in the future, Rickon might be of use or even Robb's heir.

"Your Grace, we need to finish this war quickly," said his other uncle, Benjen Stark, who remained silent up until now, "wildlings are amassing beyond the wall and nights are growing colder, we received reports of unexplained things, unusual for a southerner but we, northerners knows they will come, one day in the near future."

"They? What are you talking about Ben?" asked the king.

It was then that Benjen Stark turned to look at his father. Jon is standing beside the king and what he saw from his uncles face made his bone shudder.

"I don't dare believe it, but they reported seeing wights, riding giant frozen spiders and some say they even saw white walkers riding their dead horses," his uncle's voice was grim, almost dead and mentioning these made Jon's exposed skin crawl with something he can't explain.

'This is mad,' Jonothor thought but his skin continues to prickle when he thought about the words of his uncle, 'these are only stories told by wet nurse to scare off children, they couldn't be real.'

"Well that is why Jon will go with you to the Wall, to see and hear these reports of rangers from Beyond the Wall, they will also bring supplies for the Night's Watch," answered his father after some time, who seems to be also moved by the words of his uncle.

After their talk, his uncles left him with the king.

"Do you believe it, father?" he asked.

"I can't say," answered the king, "but this world are full of things we can't explain, when you ask a boy if he believes about dragons, he will say you're mad, the dragons are all gone but only a few centuries ago, we still have them so I cannot really deny if the Nights Watch started reporting sightings of these creatures, after all, if you study history, the Wall was built not to keep away the Wildlings, but to keep away something greater, fouler and even colder to the Seven Kingdoms," then he turned to look at him, the spell of his voice now gone, "Jon, do not delay your stay in the Wall, the realm will need you in the coming months, and if the reports beyond the Wall are true, then we need to be prepared."

Jonothor nodded his head and late in the afternoon, his departure commences. He found it harder to say good bye to three people in particular; his mother the queen, his little brother Daeron and his wife Margaery.

Queen Lyanna is wearing a black gown when she met him at the yard of the castle, her eyes are bloodshot from crying and she is pale, too pale for his liking.

"Be careful out there Jonothor," he stooped down a little so that his mother can kiss him on the forehead, "and remember that you're going to be a father soon, so you shouldn't be as reckless in making decision."

"I will mother," he answered then he embraced her and kissing her mother at the top of her head.

He said his good bye to his brother Daeron next who remained silent but there are tears on his eyes and the little prince refused to say a word to him.

"I will be back, little brother, take care of grandmother for me when you get back to Kings Landing, will ya?"

"I-I will, Your Highness," said Daeron finally, reminding Jon on how dutiful his brother was.

Jon kissed him one last time before turning towards Margaery, who's already crying. She is wearing a blue gown, her brown locks of hair was down, making her look angelic but her eyes are red, even redder than his mother and his wife is wiping away the tears falling on her eyes with a small golden cloth.

"You will sail tomorrow to Dragonstone," he is now standing in front of her, amidst the sea of people in the yard of Winterfell to see them off, "you will not like it but you should learn to love it, its my keep and our child will inherit it someday and--"

He was cut off when Margaery suddenly leap to embrace him, and now sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh Jonothor, please, don't leave," she said, he can feel her wet cheek resting at the crook of his neck, "you should just visit Highgarden with me, Sansa will be there and your cousin Bran can journey there too, Horn Hill is just a few days ride from Highgarden, please."

She is begging him but the only thing he did is to return her embrace and seconds later they kissed.

"I will be back," he told her firmly, "I promise Margaery, I will return to you, be strong for our unborn child."

Margaery reluctantly nodded her head then she kissed him again, a passionate kiss that they only share inside their chamber but she didn't care and he neither. He will miss her smell and her soft skin and her doe brown eyes, all of her.

"Your Highness," interrupted the Lord Commander, "we need to go."

That's when he disentangle himself with Margaery and giving her one last kiss at the top of her head, muttering another promise of return, he then wave to the men, women and children who gathered to see him off, some of them are crying but most gave the look of a proud father watching his son win a duel.

He climbed to his horse and with one last look to his family, wondering if he's going to see them again, all of them, he finally kicked the stirrups of his great destrier and left, not turning to look back.

His father the king, his uncle's Benjen and Eddard and his cousin Robb and all of his companions who's not going with him to the Wall were gathered a few miles outside the castle gates, to where the Kingsroad is marked by boulder of stone signaling the crossroad to Winterfell.

"You know your duty, Jonothor," said his father, giving him a piercing look.

"I know father," he answered after meeting his look.

Their horses are standing side by side at the other side of the boulder, they are facing Winterfell, its outer walls seem to be covered by a mist from far away.

"I will see you then, in the battlefield, probably," Jon said then for unknown reasons, the king suddenly embraced him.

It's been a long time since his father embraced him, returning it; the king kissed him at the top of his head seconds after, reminding him of his childhood and his position as a son to his father.

"Be careful out there, Jon," said his father, Jon realized that his mother said the same thing earlier to him.

"I will father," he replied, "take care of mother, Daeron and grandmother for me until I get back."

"I will," his father nodded his head.

"Let's go now Jon," interrupted his uncle Benjen, who seems to be anxious to start their journey already.

Cley Cerwyn, Daryn Hornhood, Lucas Blackhood, Robar Royce and Eddard Karstark are already riding ahead of them together with the guards that will be going with him to the Wall as well as a dozen of baggage train full of supplies, a gift of the Iron Throne to the Nightswatch, also mounted beside his uncle Benjen are Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent.

"Bye father," said Jon then he waved his hand towards his companions that will stay before turning his back towards them, catching up to his friends ahead.

He didn't look back, he didn't wanted to because he knows he and his father will see each other soon.

"The road to the Wall will be long, hard and cold," muttered his uncle when they progressed a few miles on the road.

"And it will be colder at night," chimed in Eddard Karstark.

Hard and cold it was, the ragged road is long and sloping and surrounded by forest. It was as if they were alone in the world but that can't be, farms and houses can still be seen, only they go sparser as they move on, as if telling them that there's no life up ahead and soon enough, Jon saw the remains of abandoned houses, left to crumble by men and women who used to live there.

At night, they would set up camp at the edge of forest atop a hill, giving a commanding view of their surroundings. Three bonfires would often be warming their camp. Jon was even offered a night with one of the camp followers, a pretty girl, maybe older than him but he refused thinking about Margaery and a little part of him is also thinking about Daenerys.

"Tomorrow afternoon, we're finally going to see the wall, my lords," said his uncle Benjen in front of the fire, "it was built by our own ancestor Jon."

The Crown Prince has half the mind to make a jest about seeing the Wall but seeing the look on his uncle's face, he decided against it.

"How about the White Bull?" asked Ser Oswell, "is he around?"

Benjen Stark gave a single nod.

"He's off to leave with a ranging party but I'm sure he received the letters, he's going to wait for us."

Jonothor drank on his wineskin, staring at the fire and he thought he saw strange figures dancing with their shadows casting a long mishapen figures.

'It must be the wine,' he said to himself.

In the dead of night, Jon woke up from a strange sleep, a wolf dream. He dreamt that he is looking at his own tent, from a tricket of a high bush at the edge of the forest. It was cold and he is only wearing a night dress so he put on his trousers, boots and covering himself with a fur coat. He also belted his sword belt and dangling on it is his sword, sheathed and ready if there's a danger lurking outside.

"It's better to be safe than sorry."

It was the Lord Commander who's guarding his tent when he got out, standing still like a sentinel, Ser Ser Arthur Dayne is the image of a true and unmoving knight, loyal to a fault and will die if needed, just to protect the royal family especially the King.

"Taking a leak, Your Highness?" asked the knight when Jon finally showed himself to him.

"Yeah," answered Jon with a nod.

Everyone on the camp is now asleep, snores of tired men filled their camp but outriders and guards can also be seen in the distance, walking around the border of their camp. Jonothor made his way to the western edge of the camp that seats at the edge of a forest, he followed as best as he could the position that he remembered from his dream.

"I think this is far enough, Your Highness," said Ser Arthur who followed him inside the forest.

"I'm actually not going to take a leak Lord Commander," answered Jon, squinting his eyes on the darkness all around him, "I had a dream a while ago, you're not going to believe me Ser but I dreamt I was a direwolf, a white direwolf."

There was a silence as Jonothor tried his best to look at the dark, hoping that his dream was somewhat true. Sounds of night insects are the only ones they can hear and an owl, hooting from a distance.

"Jon," cut in the Lord Commander, "this is foolish, and if by chance there's a direwolf in these woods, then we shouldn't come looking for it."

"I know that," answered the Crown Prince, side glancing at the knight, "it's just that--"

"Jon--" interrupted the Lord Commander, his eyes was clearly surprised and Jon heard it too, the rustling of leaves and the growl of a monster.

When the Prince of Dragonstone turned to look at the creature, he saw a pair of eyes the color of blood, and the direwolf is covered with a fur as white as fresh snow but as quickly as he saw it, the four legged animal disappeared as quick.

'Ghost,' he muttered to himself.

In the morning, they continued on their journey to the Wall, Jon and the Lord Commander didn't speak about what they had seen earlier that morning. Ser Oswell was telling a story about a wench when their company stops. far in the north, they can see a line of blue wall, like a wave of an ocean that's touching the sky.

If he didn't know that it was the Wall, Jon would say that it's a giant wave, waiting to swallow them all. He's going to admit, as they get closer and closer, the wall became higher and higher, getting solid like a mountain but it's not made entirely of rock, but ice. Atop it, Jon can see men in black, tiny like ants, guarding the wall from what's on the other side.

"Welcome to the Wall, Your Highness," said his uncle when they reach a hill that overlooks the terrain ahead, they are only a kilometers ride to one of the nine wonders made by man.

They were given a lukewarm welcome by the brothers of the Nightswatch when they finally passed the gates, even though they brought supplies that can last for years. Jon expected it, he knew that the Brothers of the Nightswatch were like a cousin of the Starks; hardy man with no time to laugh.

'Great,' he thought dully as he was welcomed by Lord Commander Mormont, called the Old Bear.

Lord Jeor Mormont is an imposing looking man, and the Nightswatch hold him with great esteem. He has broad shoulders and stern gaze, standing tall like his position in the Wall, he is accompanied by his pet raven, who regarded Jon when he first saw the man.

"Prince Jonothor, it is a pleasure to see you," greeted the old man, slightly bowing his head, his voice seems genuine, but his face tells otherwise.

It seems to Jon that the Lord Commander thought that now that he is here, all the problems in the Wall will now be solved.

'Well he's going to be disappointed,' thought Jon dryly.

They are standing at the yard of Castle Black, though the place is not at all a castle. It has no walls except for the Wall in the north and only consists of several stone towers and timber keeps. Beneath these towers and keeps, there is a series of subterranean passages called wormwalks which connect the different buildings.

"Lord Commander, I travelled all the way here as promised, to hear reports of the condition of the Black Brothers and the Wall," he paused and tried to smile, "and I'm very much want to see my great great-grand uncle, Maester Aemon."

"And we would like to see our old friend, Ser Gerold Hightower, the previous Lord Commander of the Kingsguards, my lord," added Ser Oswell with a smile.

"All of that, I can offer, come my lords, let's leave the cold for a while and enjoy the warmth of the walls that Castle Black can offer," answered Lord Mormont.

That night, a feast was celebrated for the visit of the Crown Prince and the brothers of the Nights Watch finally enjoyed the merriment. Jonothor visited every table, hearing stories of the brothers whether if its grim or just something about himself, drinking from their own cups, laughing and singing with them and all the while the Lord Commander of the Nightswatch remained on his seat atop the dais, drinking every now and then but the three knights on the other hand, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Gerold Hightower have a table of their own.

Towards the end of the feast, the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch finally got the chance for a private meeting with the Prince of Dragonstone. Jon brought with him his four companions and his two Kingsguards while Lord Mormont brought with him his high ranking officials from East-Watch-by-the-Sea and Shadow Tower that includes his uncle Benjen, Ser Gerold Hightower, Bowen Marsh and Ser Alliser Thorne to name a few.

"The Wall is in great danger, my lords," said the Lord Mormont, he is standing on a window that overlooks the empty yard of Castle Black, "I don't want to admit it but it's the truth, reports from rangers said that wildlings are gathering, led by a man who named himself King-Beyond-the-Wall," then he sighed, "and when Benjen Stark made his leave, a ranging party discovered bodies of rangers, near the border of the haunted forest. "

"Their names were Jafer Flowers and Othor, Your Highness," said Bowen Marsh, who's sitting in front of the raise dais where Jon is sitting, high above everyone, behind him stood his Kingsguards, "I swear to all the gods that they were dead, but then when the night came, the two of them were resurrected by dark magic, and their eyes, it turned bright blue."

"Wights," said his uncle Benjen, his face coming on a conclusion.

"So what happened to these, wights, my lord?" asked Eddard Karstark.

"We burned them, but not until one of them killed five brothers including my friend, Ser Jaremy Rykker," answered Ser Alliser Thorne, "and one of them almost killed Lord Mormont, but luckily, Ser Gerold was there, he burned Othor with fire."

Everyone became silent, even Jon can't quite believe what he heard. Lord Mormont remained on his place, looking out below the window of the hall but the silence was interrupted by the raven of the Lord Commander.

"Fire, fire, fire, fire!" croaked the bird.

"Shut up," said Lord Mormont and the bird obeyed him, "what we need most is fighting men, Your Highness," he said now finally facing him, the raven flew to one of the timbers that supports the roof of the hall, "you already brought the supplies and for that, we owe you our thanks and gratitude but we need more fighting men, not only to defend the Wall for the wildlings but also to defend it from what's coming."

"Lord Commander Mormont is right Jon," added his own uncle, "you are the son of the king and someday you'll seat the Iron Throne itself. If what is coming are dead men, then we must be prepared."

"King, king, king, king!" croaked the raven again and one of the brothers inside the hall threw something on it but it missed. The raven remained silent after that, fixing Jon a look, as if he's an old friend of his.

Jonothor's head is now aching from all the things he learned from the brothers of the Nights Watch, his mind battling from one thought to another. He clenched and unclenched his fist, his eyes straying from one person to another, hoping to find the right answer to find none

"My lords, I can help by sending a thousand soldiers to supplement your numbers but don't expect them to join your ranks," he said finally, then with a dread voice, he finally confessed to them what's coming in the South, "Kings Landing is also on a verge of war."

That shocked everyone and a murmur was heard, like a sound of bees but it became silent when he raised his hand to speak.

"We're going to be at war soon, with House Martell and House Lannister, whatever battle we have here in the Wall, it have to wait, my father and I need to secure the throne first and by then we can call for a Great Council, a gathering like never happened before, we must have all the knowledge with these creatures, Uncle Ned said to me that we must know our enemies and if these wights are true, then its possible that the White Walkers and the Nights King have also returned from the grave."

The murmur became louder but in the end they agreed, all of them, even Lord Mormont is nodding his head and Jon wondered where he got the wits and the charm to convince others to go on his way, which he thinks is the right one anyways considering that they will be at war soon.

'We need to secure the Seven Kingdoms first, before we can settle the threat beyond the Wall,' he thought to himself, remembering the words of his father.

After the meeting, Jonothor went to his chambers at the Kings Tower, his chamber is modest enough and the fire on the hearth keeps the cold of the night at bay. Jon had a wolf dream again that night and he woke up very early to find a Targaryen knight guarding his door, he couldn't sleep, so he decided to walk around, or even visit Maester Aemon.

He dressed in a simple doublet, trousers and boots with the help of one of the many squires under his service. The squire seems to be sleepy still, because after Jon finished getting his hair on a bun and putting on his belt with his sword dangling on it, he saw that the young lad was already asleep near the door. He smiled to himself remembering his own brother Daeron who's probably still travelling to Riverrun with their father the king. Jonothor left the young squire and went to the chamber of Maester Aemon with the Targaryen knight trailing on his post.

Upon arriving at the door of the chamber of the Maester, Jonothor saw a familiar figure.

"Sam?"

He can't believe it, Sam, the former heir of Lord Randyll Tarly, dressed all in black, in front of him, carrying a letter. Sam is one of the childhood friends of Jon, but it seems like Lord Randyll Tarly is indeed a man of his words, seeing his former heir as a failure, he declared that he's going to sent him on the Wall and name his second son, named Dickon the heir of House Tarly, one of the most powerful bannerman of House Tyrell. He suspected Sam will be sent to Oldtown, or even to one of the minor houses of the Reach but then it's Lord Randyll Tarly, the man is as straight as his valyrian sword.

"Jon!" said Sam who looks surprised, his chubby face was a combination of confusion and wonder, "you're really here!"

"Of course I am here," answered Jon with a smile, "I'm going to see Maester Aemon."

"Oh yeah, come on, I'll lead you the way," said Sam, looking jolly all at once.

They found Maester Aemon sitting on his reading table, sitting so still he seems to be dead but even before neither Jon nor Sam spoke, the ancient man turned his head towards them, as if he can see them with his blind eyes.

"I wonder when you're going to visit the Wall, Your Highness," said the old man, his lips twitching into a smile, "its a pleasure to meet you, Prince Jonothor."

It was the start of the very long talk between the two Targaryen's, one of which turned down the crown when the Small Council offered it to him years and years ago and the other one is being groomed to wear it.

They talked about almost everything, wars, politics, the game, women, everything that Jon wanted to know. Even though it's only the first time that the two of them met, he felt that Maester Aemon was the grandfather he lost during the war between King Rhaegar and King Aerys. He asked all kinds of questions and the old man eagerly answered each.

It was past midday when Sam returned on the chamber of the maester of Castle Black, sweating and gasping for air.

"Your Highness," he said between breaths, "Maester Aemon."

"Calm yourself, Sam," said Jon, "what is it?"

"A child," said the fat boy, "a child was rescued by a ranging party who left this morning, he was from Whitetree, a village near Craster's Keep."

"Whitetree you say?" said the maester, "that's only a few days ride from here, fewer if it didn't snow the night before."

"Yes, Maester Aemon, the boy escaped," said Sam looking dreadful, "he said that there are others, being tortured because they won't submit to the King-Beyond-the-Wall and many more were killed."

Jonothor suddenly stood up, hearing this King-Beyond-the-Wall torturing a whole village.

"Sam, I need you to give the captains of my party a message as well as my Kingsguards," said Jon.

"What message is that, Prince Jon?" asked Sam, looking frightened.

"We're going to this Wildling village and stop this King-Beyond-the-Wall," answered Jon, his sense of duty to the realm taking over his thoughts, clouding all reasons and judgement.

On the hall where the wildling boy was taken, perched on the shoulder of Lord Commander Mormont, the raven studied the gaunt boy with a curly brown hair and suddenly it started croaking.

"Death, death, death, death!"

Notes:

So first of all I want to greet everybody a happy holidays, I hope you are all enjoying your vacations. Secondly, I want to say that I'm now living in another country and I'm still adjusting and learning and finding a work desperately. Third, I want to say sorry because I couldn't update more often as much as I want to because I'm really busy and lastly, I want to thank each and everyone of you who are still with me. We still have a long way to go and I hope y'all will still be there till the end. That's it for now, the next chapter will be the second POV chapter of our Margaery, until then! PS. Don't forget to put your hearts out for Jonothor's first chapter (I hope it's not as boring as I thought it was)

Chapter 10: Sansa II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The swaying of the ship woke her up and when she opened her eyes, she saw the dull color of the ceiling of her cabin then from the distance she thought she can hear the sound of seagulls on the beach while the ocean laps gently on the ship.

These were the sounds that wakes the she-wolf for the past month and they are now more than half-way to their destination. Jeyne Poole helped her to get dress an hour later, a simple gown with the colors of her mother's house, the Tullys, with lacings on the sleeves and attached with fur of wolf. Her own direwolf, Lady was chained on the bottom level of the lower deck of the ship. Her Septa insisted that the animal be chained but Sansa argued with her, and they both agreed that the direwolf will be freed only every morning.

"Jeyne, please fetch Lady," she instructed her friend in which Jeyne happily obliged.

She got out of her cabin with Jory as her guard and made to the edge of the lower deck and there she saw nothing but the ocean. The sea was calm on the duration of their journey, Sansa even admired the tranquility of the open water. After departing from White Harbor, they stopped next to Gulltown, a port city on the Vale to get provisions, ruled by House Grafton, the house is sworn to House Arryn of the Eyrie, her own aunt, Lady Lysa Arryn, the younger sister of her mother Lady Catelyn is the wife of the ruling High Steward of the Vale, Lord Elbert Arryn while his uncle, Lord Jon Arryn is in Kings Landing, serving King Rhaegar's Small Council as the Master of Laws.

Sansa wished to see her aunt and her other cousin, little Robin but she knows that it can't be, they need to reach Stormlands quickly so she keep that thought to herself. They travelled through Cracklaw Point next, making their way from the huge peninsula and even passing through Dragonstone, the seat of his cousin Jonothor, until they reach Duskendale, a large port town. The captain of the ship preferred Kings Landing but he has orders to make haste so they took the ships provision to the port town instead.

The journey was smooth and quiet until until they reach the next peninsula of Massey's Hook, by this time, they are now entering the territory of the Stormlands and like the regions namesake, heavy rains and strong winds greeted them like an unwanted friend. All of Sansa's companions were half scared, even Sir Rodrik looks sea sick but not Lady. Her direwolf enjoyed the morning rain and Sansa would often join her, much to the dismay of her Septa but she didn't cared, they don't want to be wet but she wanted to, Lady doesn't mind and so should she.

For a number of days, rain battered their ship but the vessel remained steadfast and with the captains strong will and vigilance, Sansa finally saw their destination one rainy morning. They are bound for Parchments, the seat of House Penrose. It doesn't have the power of White Harbor and Gulltown and neither the size of Duskendale but King Rhaegar thought that it's better to dock on its small port than risk the wrath of Shipbreaker Bay.

Every northern men on board was more than glad to disembark the ship, making their way to the pier below. Sansa was walking with her direwolf when Jeyne run back to her, grasping for air.

"Sansa," she said, "an honor guard is here to take us to Storms End."

"Honor guard?" that shocked Sansa, "who?"

It turned out that her honor guard were men from Storms End combined with Lord Penrose own household guards. Led by Ser Colen of Greenpools, Sansa doesn't know him but he wears blue jays as a badge. The knight was accompanied by Renly Baratheon, Lord Robert's youngest brother. He kissed her bare hand like what the other lords do when meeting her aunt, Queen Lyanna.

'He shouldn't have kissed my hand, I'm not a queen after all,' thought Sansa, "but then he is not a lord neither," somehow retaliated at the back of her head.

"Welcome to Stormlands my lady, I am Renly, youngest brother of Robert Baratheon, the lord of Storms End."

Renly is twenty one years old, a handsome clean shaven man with lips that always ready to smile, he is a tall man with broad shoulders, and a shoulder length black hair. Sansa thought that his blue eyes are as clear as the ocean of Stormslands when it's calm and clear. Renly is wearing a breast plate with the stag of his house proudly painted on the front and a tunic underneath. A sheathed sword is dangling on his belt.

"Stormland is quite a place," she replied, half smiling, "is it always raining around here my lord?"

"Tis only summer rain, my lady," answered the young Baratheon, his face thoughtful and his eyes amused, "wait till you experience the autumn storms," he paused, observing her, "I heard you'll be the Lady of Storms End soon."

"A dull title," interrupted another in a dismissing tone and when Sansa turned to look at the owner of the voice, she saw a rather familiar face, "I'm glad to meet you my lady, I am ---"

"Ser Loras Tyrell," cut in Sansa, her lips giving into a smile, "you look like your sister Margaery, Ser."

Ser Loras Tyrell is lithe and graceful. He is wearing a full plate armor as befit a knight, although his is more expensive than the ones worn by Ser Colen, considering that he is from House Tyrell, a wealthy family. Five years younger than Renly, he is smaller of frame with long, flowing brown hair and golden eyes. He is a capable warrior.

"Do I?" Loras raised an eyebrow, "how's my fine sister my lady? Enjoying the cold of the North?"

There was something on the knights voice that sounded an insult to Sansa and when she turned to look at her northern companions, she knew that she didn't imagined it.

"Have I insulted your friends, my lady?" asked the knight who followed Sansa's gaze and obviously surprised, "I'm sorry if a have given offense, I meant it as a jest."

Sansa settled for that.

"No offense taken ser," said Sansa, hoping that her voice sounded genuine enough, then he turned to Renly, "are we going now, my lord?"

"In this weather?" asked Renly pointing his finger to the darkening sky, "you don't want to rest first my lady? Lord Penrose's hall is eager to welcome the queen's niece," then he leaned closer, all smiles, "I know you know how minor lords are always eager to earn the favor of their overlord and in Lord Penrose case, the queen," then he winked at her.

Both of them shared a lingering look and understanding the words of the younger Baratheon, Sansa nodded then turned to look at her companions and saw from their faces that one nights rest is not that bad.

"Well where is Lord Penrose then?" she said with an interested smile.

Lord Penrose was more than willing to share his bread and roof with them indeed, because that night, a feast was celebrated for her. She is sitting on the raised dais with Renly Baratheon, Lord Penrose and Ser Cortnay Penrose, his son and heir while hers and Renly's companions are seated in front of the dais while Lady is chained on the castles kennels.

"Lady Sansa of House Stark," declared the old lord of Parchments, suddenly standing up, his goblet raised in the air, "the future lady of Storms End."

Everyone cheered and Sansa smiled to all of them, forgetting for a moment the plans of Margaery and that night, the chamber that was given to her was indeed more comfortable than the one she used to sleep to in the ship; soft bed with feather pillows, she slept peacefully that night and when the morning comes, it was time to go. Lord Penrose son asked to accompany them to Storms End, leading the household guards of his father that will accompany them on the journey. Renly also commissioned a wheelhouse for Sansa, Jeyne and Septa Mordane to protect them from the rain, it has the Baratheon colors.

They have taken the road between a huge forest on the right side and the sea on the left and as expected, the wind and rain drenched the men as they move forward to their destination while the slender wheelhouse trudge on behind.

It was a week later when they finally saw Storms End, it was Jeyne who mentioned it after looking out on the foggy window.

"Is that Storms End?"

Sansa move next beside her and turned to look. What they are seeing is a single spiked tower amidst a heavy fog, thrusting defiantly in the sky high up on a hill at Durrans Point. They are now passing through a field filled with summer crops, or what looks like the last of them because half of them are already harvested.

They got closer and closer, ascending to a hill that was Durrans Point until Sansa finally saw the looming massive outer curtain wall of the castle. The immensity of the outer wall made Sansa speechless and the single tower of the castle reminds her of one of the many towers of Winterfell too.

A trumpet sounded when they are about to reach the castle gates and Septa Mordane pulled Sansa back to reality, reminding her to look her best because the Baratheon's are waiting for her.

"Fix my hair Jeyne," she said feeling foolish all of a sudden.

'I have all the time in the world and I wasted it all, gaping at the walls of the castle like an idiot,' she chastised herself as Jeyne's adept fingers braided her auburn hair.

It was only a short amount of time but Sansa quickly pulled herself together, peeking on the mirror to see herself and it might not be her best look but it's definitely not her worst then they finally passed through the gate of Storms End and soon enough, the horses whined and Sansa heard voices outside and suddenly, the wheelhouse stopped.

"My lady," they heard the whispered voice of Ser Rodrik through the window, "the Baratheon's are waiting for you, wait for the queue of the herald before leaving the wheelhouse."

After that Sansa waited anxiously for the herald, she felt that it's already been hours since the instruction of Ser Rodrik but in truth, its been only minutes ago then she finally heard the call.

"Lady Sansa Stark," announced the herald, "daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North and Lady Catelyn, and niece to Her Grace, Queen Lyanna Stark."

Septa Mordane opened the door for her and Sansa was momentarily blinded by sunlight but she willed herself to move ahead. After passing through the door, her eyes needed to adjust for the new surrounding and when they finally do, she saw that they are in the main yard of Storms End and in front her, stood the members of House Baratheon.

First of them was the lord of Storms End itself, Lord Robert Baratheon, standing tall among men, broad shouldered and muscled although there is some fat on his belly from drinking too much wine, the lord of Storms End also got a trimmed black beard and his blue eyes resembles that those of Renly's. He is wearing a bear fur coat and he quickly smiled when he saw Sansa looking at her.

Lord Robert was followed by his own wife, Lady Cersei Lannister. Sansa thought that Lady Cersei is a very strikingly beautiful woman, with golden hair, emerald green eyes, fair skin and a slender and graceful figure but she noticed that her lips doesn't smile and her eyes looks bored too. She is wearing a long velvet gown the color of blood. Sansa unconsciously smooth her own gown, next to Lady Cersei, hers seems to be a gown of a kitchen wench.

Next to Lady Cersei stands Joffrey, the heir of House Baratheon. He is tall for his age of thirteen and Sansa thought that he is handsome with the Lannister look on him with shoulder length curly golden hair. Joffrey has pouty lips, bright green eyes and when he glance at Sansa, he smiled handsomely at her.

'He doesn't look like a frog definitely,' she thought, remembering the words of her aunt Lyanna that she should send a letter if her future betrothed look like one.

He is wearing a fine golden doublet, black trousers, boots and a silver pin of the stag of his house under an equally handsome fur coat.

Joffrey was followed by Myrcella, the only daughter of Lord Robert and Lady Cersei. She is the same age as her younger sister Arya but Myrcella looks more beautiful, delicate and she compose herself like a queen to be. Her long golden curls are up to her waist and she smiles brightly at her. Myrcella is wearing a golden gown and Sansa thought that the Baratheon girl seems to be friendly.

"Welcome to Storms End, Lady Sansa," came the voice of Lord Robert and he kissed her and Sansa thought that the lords hand was rough from the touch, "you have the Tully look about you child, my children have taken the colors of their mother as well."

Sansa nodded at that and when she turned to look at Lady Cersei, she thought that her expression changed for a fleeting second, the confident mask on her face turned uneasy.

"I thank you my lord and indeed, I have my mother's coloring" answered Sansa, "but my younger sister, Arya, have taken the look of my fathers and she is very fond of riding."

"Riding huh," said Lord Robert, his face amused, "your aunt Lyanna, is she still fond of riding?"

Mentioning the name of her aunt that had been his betrothed once in front of his wife and family might not have been the best one, thought Sansa, trying not to show her own unease.

"Not at the moment, my lord," she answered politely, avoiding eye contact with Lady Cersei, and hoping that Lord Robert understood what she said about her aunt being pregnant.

"Well then come meet my family child," said Lord Robert, turning to look at his wife, "this is my wife Cersei, the Seven's gift to humanity," it was a joke and Sansa heard Renly and Ser Loras snickering behind her.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lady Cersei," said Sansa politely.

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Sansa," replied Lady Lannister crisply, then she composed herself to a more friendly manner, "I visited Kings Landing before your aunt and the king left for Winterfell, they look well."

"As well as they can be, I supposed," replied Sansa, unsure of what to say.

Thankfully, Lord Robert saved her from Lady Cersei's probing by good naturedly tapping her from the shoulder and guiding her next to Joffrey.

"And this one right here is my first born son and heir, Joffrey," said Lord Robert.

The Baratheon boy learned his courtesies too well because he quickly held out his hand, in which Sansa accepted rather quickly too. He kissed her bared hands softly, never leaving his eyes on hers.

"My lady," said Joffrey after, looking delighted, "tales of your beauty have reach even here in Storms End and it doesn't do you justice, now that I'm looking at you closely."

Sansa blushed at that, trying to hide a smile by the smooth talker Joffrey. She knows that more or less these have been rehearsed before she even arrived here in Storms End but it was too good to ignore.

"You honor me with your words my lord," she answered, "and you can call me Sansa."

"As my lady commands," he answered and then he suddenly stooped down, kissing her to the cheeks, "call me Joff."

Sansa beamed at that and Joffrey seems genuinely glad but Lord Robert interrupted them.

"You can talk more later," he said, "and here's my daughter Myrcella."

Sansa kissed Mycella's cheeks and instantly missed her own sister Arya.

"Welcome to Storms End, Lady Sansa," said the younger girl.

"I thank you, Lady Myrcella."

"My youngest son, Tommen is currently a ward of his grandfather Lord Tywin at Casterly Rock, so you're not going to see him anytime soon," explained Lord Robert in which Sansa nodded her head.

After the introductions, a celebration for her arrival to the castle was held at the Feast Hall. It was a large circular hall with a high ceiling, the banners of Baratheon Stag is hanging on a cord from above. Metal torches aligned the walls and Sansa thought that it was weird that she can't hear the wind outside, considering that Storms End is sitting on a Durran's Point, an area that faces the sea.

"I heard that the ship you and your companions have taken have been caught by a summer storm, my lady?" asked Joffrey.

The two of them are seated just below the lords table where Lord Robert and Lady Cersei are seated. Seated with them on the table are Myrcella, Renly and Ser Loras Tyrell while her own northern companions are seated below, her direwolf on the other hand is locked on the kennels of the castle near the Godswood.

"Yes indeed, half of my companions were terrified that the ocean will sink us," she answered as the merriment around them started.

"Not you though?" asked Joffrey, his face curious.

"Not me," she answered with a smile.

"My lady is brave," he said, teasing her then his face turned serious, "Stormlanders are brave too, like all of the Northmen."

"I don't doubt that they are Joff," answered Sansa politely.

Joffrey sliced her meat when it was served, he even poured her cup with the wine and brought forth her favorite lemon cakes.

"Thank you Joff, these are my favorite," she said looking delighted.

"I know," answered the Baratheon boy, "it's my pleasure to serve my lady," he replied, kissing her hand once again.

When Joffrey was called off by Lady Cersei on their table, Sansa turned to her left where Myrcella is sitting.

"Was your brother have always been like this?" Sansa asked.

"It's the first time I saw him act like the way he acts around you my lady," answered Myrcella truthfully, "but maybe he just wants to impress you, cause you know, he's going to be your husband soon if the betrothal push through."

That made sense for her, this is not only a simple visit but a political move of the crown to stabilize the realm.

'But what if another Stark left a Baratheon for another?' she asked herself, "will it cost the lives of her father, her eldest brother and the king? As it did to her aunt Lyanna in the past?" she stole a glance to her Baratheon boy, "what if Willas Tyrell claim me like King Rhaegar did to the queen?"

She dreaded the answer to her questions.

"What if another take me and make me his queen?" she thought remembering another Targaryen prince but she knows that's a fooly and the thought quickly vanished when Joff returned and this time, he asked her for a dance.

That night, she danced with Joff, his father Lord Robert, Renly, Ser Loras, Jory, Ser Cortnay Penrose and other guest of the castle but Sansa thought that Joffrey danced the best. He is graceful, quick footed and handsome and when she excused herself to finally rest, instead of a servant leading the way to her chambers, Joffrey volunteered instead.

"I know for a fact that Storms End is not as big as Winterfell, Sansa," he said as they travel on a hallway that will open up to one of the bridge that connects the buildings of the castle, "I know you'll find your way quickly enough."

When they arrived at the bridge, she saw the yard below and realized how small the castle indeed, compared to Winterfell.

Sansa and her companions are going to stay on one of the taller towers in front of the colossal drum tower that they saw earlier from afar and when the pair reach the door of her chamber, Joffrey opened it for her.

"Your companions will be taking the quarters below this room, my lady," he said turning to look at Sansa, "I hope you enjoyed the feast."

"I did," answered Sansa with a smile, "you have been too kind, making sure that I have everything the cook has prepared, I'm sorry I couldn't eat or at least taste them all," she paused, shaking her head and putting a hand on her belly, "I'm so full I might burst."

The two of them laugh at that.

"Well its only the start my lady," said Joff, the last chuckle coming out from his throat, "because once we said our vows, you'll be my wife," then he leans closer to her, "you will be mine."

Sansa thought that his breath smells of sweet wine and when they are about to kiss, something from below disturbed them.

"I think that was Jory," she said half embarrassed, "I saw that he was drunk."

"I saw him too," answered Joffrey, his eyes lingering on hers, "well then good night my lady," then he kissed her on the cheeks, "I will see you tomorrow."

Joffrey remained standing on his spot right after she finally closed her doors, giving her future betrothed one last smile before closing it shut behind her, in turn, she remained behind the door, listening as Joffrey's footsteps vanished.

"I can get used to that," she said to herself then she finally went to her dresser to change her clothes. after putting on a night gown, she made her way to the window where it gave her a commanding view of the ocean on one side and a nearby forest on the other before finally making her way to the bed.

Once sleep has taken her, her unconscious thoughts travelled long and far until it found its way on the eyes inside a kennel. She is pacing from left to right. She is not used to the small space but she must remain behaved.

In the middle of the night, she heard voices coming from the colossal tower where a feast was held and from the darkness, she saw two men, clinging to each other, making their way to the nearby trees inside the Godswood.

"Can't we do it on your room?" asked one of the men with a brown curly locks, "I hate it doing without walls, I think someone is spying on us."

"No we can't," answered another, this man is bigger in built, broader and dark haired, "it's better we do it here and what if someone is spying on us? Let them watch how you moan for my cock and besides, your sister will be queen and my brother is the lord of this castle," he giggles, "they can't do nothing but look."

She followed with her own eyes the two men who disappear in the darkness of the trees and soon afterward, she heard grunts, whimper and voices from the shadows where the two men vanished from, strange, hard and wet sounds.

'They are copulating,' she thought to herself and continue to pace on her own little pen, 'when will they let me out?'

Weeks passed and Sansa enjoyed every minute of her stay on Storms End; she and Myrcella would often share a lesson together in the morning, her mother Lady Cersei would eat with them on their lunch and Joffrey would take her for a walk or a ride in the afternoon with her direwolf following them from behind. One time, Lord Robert even hunted her some rabbits, alive and kicking, asking if she wants it as a pet but when she told him she already has one, the poor critters was then taken to the cook.

Everything was going well until bad news started arriving at the rookery of the castle, binded on a raven's leg.

The first news was the disappearance of Princess Daenerys; the servants have been talking about it for days, saying that the princess have been kidnapped, some of them says that she's going to her other nephew, the one raised in Dorne and others say she's off to find Prince Viserys, who's been missing for a year now but Sansa knows well the reason behind Her Highness disappearance and the thought was a depressing one, considering that she is friends with Margaery and Princess Daenerys is His Grace own sister.

Lord Robert and Lady Cersei didn't talked about it openly, but Sansa knows behind closed doors, it was a topic of conversation and for weeks, as she and Joffrey ride around the castle, she would often see a raven coming and leaving on the rookery of the castle.

'Whom are the Baratheons talking to?' she wonders to herself.

Soon after, news of the marriage of Prince Jonothor and Princess Margaery arrived on the castle as well, done by the old way and right after her cousin, the Crown Prince crowned Lady Margaery as the Queen of Love and Beauty on the Tourney at New Castle. She wondered if Joffrey would name her his Queen of Love and Beauty if he entered the list on a tourney and win.

'He's probably going to,' she thought to herself, the thought putting a smile on her face.

It was raining when the second news arrived on the castle and she thought that it must be a cruel joke. She was on her embroidery lessons with Myrcella and Jeyne along with Septa Mordane when Ser Rodrik arrived in a haste, his face looking troubled and wet from the rain outside.

"Domeric Bolton is dead, my lady," said the knight, spilling the dreaded news.

"Domeric? My aunt Lyanna's dear friend?" asked Sansa, confused.

"Yes, Lord Roose Bolton's only son and heir," nodded the knight.

"How? How did he died Ser?" asked Sansa, feeling the need to stand up from her seat, Jeyne did the same.

"Poisoned, inside the hall of Lord Manderly," then the knights voice turned quiet, "it was said that the poison was meant for His Grace and your aunt."

That earned a gasp from the four ladies, Jeyne even started crying.

"Hush now Jeyne," said Septa Mordane, "surely the king and the queen are alive and well, aren't they?"

"Yes they are but King Rhaegar almost joined Domeric to the grave but Ser Arthur Dayne was faster than the poison itself, he stopped it from entering the His Grace throat."

That shocked Sansa, she lost all the energy and quickly sat on her stool once again. Her thoughts suddenly lingered on her cousins, the Crown Prince and little Daeron and silently prayed that the two of them be protected by the Old Gods of the North.

"I don't understand," said Myrcella, "why would someone try to poison King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna, their reign have brought peace in all Westeros and they are well loved."

"We don't also know my lady," said Ser Rodrik gravely.

She didn't touch her lunch that day and when Joffrey arrived to fetch her after the rain stopped, she told him she wanted to go to the Godswood to pray with Lady.

The Baratheon boy agreed, freeing the direwolf himself from his pen but he told her he's going to wait for her outside the entrance of the Godswood and she told him she'll be there for long.

"I don't mind to wait for you my lady," answered Joffrey, that put another smile on her lips.

"Come on, Lady," she said and her direwolf obliged willingly.

She made her way inside the Godswood of Storms End, a place of silence even amidst the winds of Shipbreaker bay and the waves crashing on Durran's Point far below the cliff. The weirwood heart tree of the castle has a long solemn face and it reminded Sansa of the one in Winterfell.

She knelt down in front of the heart tree and started praying, leaving Lady to roam the Godswood on her own.

She prayed to the Old Gods to protect her family; her father Lord Eddard, her mother Lady Catelyn, her brother's Robb, Bran and Rickon, her good sister Jeyne and the unborn baby on her belly, her sister Arya, her cousins Daeron, Harrold, Robin and Jonothor, her uncles Edmure and Benjen, her grandfather Lord Hoster and grand uncle, Ser Bynden, her aunt Lysa and her husband Lord Elbert and the His Grace King Rhaegar and her aunt Queen Lyanna and the unborn babe on her belly, she even prayed for Margaery and Princess Daenerys and even the cousin he never met all the way from Dorne.

"Please protect them," she prayed, "please Old Gods of the North," she paused, "and please protect us here as well in Storms End, please keep us away from harm."

All of a sudden a strong wind engulfed the forest making Sansa lose her balance.

"Did they heard my prayers?" she asked herself and Lady appeared soon after.

Unbeknownst to her, a storm is brewing and it will sweep away all those on his path.

"Come now, Lady," she said kneeling in front of her direwolf, letting it lick her face, making her giggle, before finally leaving the Godswood.

That night, she dreamed again and this time she saw a rather familiar face, beautiful and golden haired, wearing a black gown, she's making her way to the stables, the Maester was following her.

"You're off to the capital my lady?" asked the maester.

"Yes, I was held back, my escorts are waiting for me at the gates," she answered, "the poisoning didn't work, it should have killed the king and the queen but instead killed an irrelevant son of a lord and now father will be furious."

"Lord Robert will call his banners--"

"Yes, yes, he'll call them soon enough, the Martell Prince with a Targaryen name will need all the swords he can get and when they do, make sure that Myrcella is ready," she answered as they neared the stables.

"How about Joffrey and Lady Sansa my lady?" asked the maester.

"Joffrey will need to swear the fealty on his father's stead to the new king, god knows Robert hates King Rhaegar's son as much as he hates the king himself," then she paused, "and Sansa will go with Joff in Kings Landing when the time comes," she answered as they entered the stables and she didn't hear from them again.

Sansa found out from Septa Mordane that Lady Cersei left for Kings Landing last night the next morning and Sansa vaguely remember hearing the talk about a Martell Prince with a Targaryen name but she can't exactly remember where she heard it while Myrcella told her that his father and Renly had a fight concerning about Ser Loras.

"My handmaiden said that it sounded about loyalty," explained Myrcella, "I heard that Ser Loras will soon leave for Highgarden and it seems like uncle Renly wants to go with him but my father is against it."

"Why my lady?" asked Jeyne.

"I don't exactly know," answered the Baratheon girl.

It was another week when Ser Loras visited Sansa on her chamber. The Tyrell knight is wearing his usual plate of armor and Sansa was just getting ready for her ride with Joffrey.

"Lady Sansa," said Ser Loras, "you'll be pleased to know that your visit to Highgarden will happen soon, Lord Robert only consented about it after your visit to Kings Landing."

"I'm going to the capital?" asked Sansa, suddenly remembering a woman's voice saying that she and Joffrey will swear fealty to the new king but she thinks it was just her imagination, one of the many from her dreams.

"Apparently yes," answered Ser Loras, "I'm going to be on my way to the Reach today so I guess I'll see you soon?"

Sansa smiled to his handsome face, "I'll see you soon," she agreed.

It was a month later when the third news arrived, it came as more than a shock to all of them, a news that will throw the Seven Kingdoms in another war.

She was just about to leave for her lessons with Septa Mordane and Jeyne when Jory arrived, breathless, his face dripping with sweat. Sansa thought that he's melting like an ice.

"Lady Sansa," he said gasping for air, "they've arrested my uncle."

"Ser Rodrik? Why? Did he killed someone? Has he been in a fight?" asked Sansa alarmed.

"No," Jory shook his head, "news from Kings Landing, it said that we have a new king," then he paused as they hear men coming their way, "we have been betrayed by House Baratheon."

Notes:

I mentioned from the previous chapters that expect updates every monday, pacific time but now it needs to be changed. Expect updates every monday or tuesday, middle east time from now on. That's all for now, thank you all for reading!

PS. Joffrey is not the monster we used to hate (I still do) from the books or TV series here in my story although he is just as ambitious as his mother Cersei. His actions on this chapter is an act (y'all know its true) but it was genuine, knowing that Sansa is going to be his wife soon and besides, he grew up as the heir of House Baratheon, a big difference to his status as a Crown Prince in the books and TV Series so a change in character is expected (like Cersei). That's all for now and next chapter will be Tyrions, the big reveal of our Griff will finally happen so please be there and don't forget to pour your love on the comment section if you liked the chapter and if you have any critique for me, please, go and leave one.

Chapter 11: Tyrion II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kings Landing's was already enveloped by a blanket of darkness when Tyrion Lannister started his nightly evening drink with his companion Bronn inside one of the decent inns of the city. Somewhere on the hall, there's a ministrel singing the Bear and the Maiden Fair and the sellsword is singing along with the lyrics while he rhymes with them.

Since almost all the members of the royal family left for the North along with half the court, Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Walter Whent, Lord Sawane Botley, Petyr Baelish, Varys and only the Grand Maester were left to rule the realm while his brother Jaime was the only Kingsguard left behind on the Red Keep, to guard the Queen Mother Rhaella who also chose to stay at the Red Keep.

'Them against for what's coming,' thought Tyrion dryly one morning after talking to Littlefinger, 'Lord Arryn and the minor lords of the Small Council, his brother Jaime and the Queen Mother against Sunspear, Storms End and Casterly Rock.'

House Lannister's and House Baratheon's involvement on House Martell's plot to usurp the throne to King Rhaegar and his heir, Prince Jonothor remains stronger than ever. Tyrion learned later on the reason for the support of his house and the house of his sister's husband, Robert Baratheon; Myrcella will be Prince Aegon's queen consort and his father, Lord Tywin will took up his old position as Hand of the King and the release of his brother Jaime, to resume his role as the heir of Lord Tywin.

'Westeros will bleed soon enough,' he thought as he gulped down his fourth wine, 'and I'm finally going home at Casterly Rock, away from all the fighting and hopefully with his brother Jaime.'

News from the North swept the city months after the departure of the royal family. The disappearance of Princess Daenerys, the attempted poisoning to King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna at Merman's court resulting to the death of Lord Bolton's son and the marriage of the Crown Prince to Lady Margaery. Tyrion was not surprised that on each news, the common folk of the city whispers of something tragic though he knows that its westerosi custom to talk about such events.

On the disappearance of Princess Daenerys, they said that she left because she loves Prince Jon so much she couldn't bear to watch him marry Lady Margaery. Princess Daenerys was well loved by the common folk and that put the Tyrell girl in a bad light.

On the poisoning at Mermans court, the common folk whispers that it was the work of House Tyrell because they want Margaery to become Queen soon, the thought was scandalous but that didn't stopped the common folk from talking, bad-mouthing the Lady Margaery from every conversations.

Some even said that the Gods are now starting to punish King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna, the former for usurping the throne to his father, King Aerys and the latter for breaking her sacred betrothal to Lord Robert Baratheon in the past and some say that the reign of the wolf and the dragon are now numbered.

And lastly the marriage of the Crown Prince and the Tyrell girl, the religious folk of the city frowns on it, saying that Prince Jon should have married Lady Margaery in front of a septon, not a heart tree as the custom of the monarch.

'They didn't had a problem with it when His Grace married Queen Lyanna at the Isle of Faces though,' said Tyrion to himself, eyeing the fat septons disgustedly who resides in the city.

"We love Her Grace Queen Lyanna but her maiden house is worshipping the wrong gods!" he heard one of the drunk septon although not everyone around him agreed for Queen Lyanna is well-loved too.

Tyrion also noticed that these whispers were coming from the brothels and he suspects that worm of a man, Littlefinger was the one behind it. Creating animosity between the future Tyrell queen, turning her against the thousands of people living in the city.

'Lady Margaery will soon learn that it will be hard ruling over a million of people who doesn't like her,' he said to himself, remembering his lessons with his maester about the monarchs of the past who had trouble ruling because they were not well loved by the people.

A great plan really, thought Tyrion, but his father the great Tywin Lannister, the Martell's and his sister Cersei still fails to turn the common folk of the city against Prince Jonothor. That's the point of the plan but the people of the city are not interested on slandering the name of the Crown Prince and Tyrion understands why.

'Prince Jonothor who buys pigeon pies, breads, doublets, boots, fish, books and other things that high lords pay double or sometimes even triple when buying on a decent merchant. Prince Jonothor who visits orphanage with Queen Lyanna. Prince Jonothor who spent his time drinking with the men of the City Watch on their barracks and to the common soldiers and other lesser men at inns, even the whores loves him and would willingly give him a service for free. Prince Jonothor who trains young boys who aspires to be soldiers someday outside the Red Keep, in the middle of the whole city. Prince Jonothor who gives all his dragon coins to dirty filthy beggars and peasants.'

'Prince Jonothor who...,' Tyrion cut himself, remembering the smile of the Crown Prince as the common folk of the city cry out his name, he can still remember how the ground shakes that time, when Prince Jonothor and Prince Daeron were making their way back to the castle after the two prince's hosted a mummers show for the little children of the city. Tyrion doubts that the whole populace of Kings Landing will ever betray the Crown Prince, even if it means there death. Prince Jonothor Targaryen is a man that people will follow even to their own grave.

'Prince Jon is the real threat on the Martell's plot,' thought Tyrion after drinking the wine on his goblet, 'not the king, not the younger prince or any of the current members of the royal family, not even Queen Lyanna who's known for her charity works around the realm, not anyone but the Crown Prince.'

He and Bronn are talking about new strange faces in the city, dornish faces, when all of a sudden a messenger arrived for him from the castle.

"Who was it from?" he asked after gulping down his cup of wine.

"You'll see it inside m'lord," said the servant, bowing his head slightly.

"Littlefinger," muttered Tyrion almost sure, snatching the paper bitterly, feeling crossed that his evening drink might be cut short because of that worm of a man.

He opened the letter and once he saw the writing, he saw that he was mistaken this time. The letter was from his brother Jaime, asking for Tyrion to visit him in his chambers at White Sword Tower.

"What the fock is it?" asked Bronn.

"This fuck is from my brother," he said to his companion, enunciating his word fuck, "and we need to go now."

He and Bronn made their way to the Red Keep, ascending Aegon's Hill in the darkness, with only the city lights at the side of the road lighting their way and when they are finally high enough on the hill, Tyrion looked back to the city below and there he saw the little lights inside the houses of the citizens of the city.

"Beautiful," he said, the thousand little lights reminding him of thousand fireflies in darkness.

"What?" asked Bronn who also stopped, alert, his hand sword now gripping the pommel of his sword.

"Nothing, let's move on shall we?"

When they arrived at the castle, a servant led them to his brother's chamber inside the White Sword Tower, a slender structure of four stories built into an angle of the castle wall overlooking the bay. His brother's room is located at the third floor and once there, only Tyrion entered while Bronn remained outside.

It was a small chamber that only contains one bed, a cabinet, a window overlooking the bay and a table with two spare chairs. Three candles are burning brightly on the table while there are others hanging at the door and close to the window, illuminating the room with flickering light.

Tyrion found his brother Jaime on one of the chairs. Jaime Lannister is the epitome of the Lannister looks, handsome with a golden hair, green cat like eyes, a dangerous smile and even taller than most men but what he saw is a troubled looking man, deep in thoughts.

"Brother," said Tyrion and Jaime smiled at him, a tired smile, "you called for me."

"Yes," answered his brother Jaime, "come, seat."

Tyrion wiggled his way towards the spare seat opposite his brother and after he climbed and seated himself comfortably, Jaime poured him a cup a wine.

"I think I owe you a few drinks," Jaime smiled at him, "I know at this hour, you're already gulping down a gallon of wine or mead in one of your inns with your friend, what's his name again?"

"Bronn," replied Tyrion, drinking on the cup.

"Charming man," commented Jaime.

A silence settled after their exchanged of words.

"So," said Tyrion, breaking the silence minutes after, "why did you called for me brother?"

Jaime Lannister leaned on his seat, scratching his chin with weeks of unshaven golden stubble.

"Do you think father is going to betray the Iron Throne?" he asked taking Tyrion off guard.

He cleared his throat, trying to act confused.

"Why are you asking this? Is something amiss?" he asked playing the innocent.

Jaimed sighed, a deep long one, for a brief seconds, his brother seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"He is assembling an army," he answered then he side glance at him, piercing him with a look, "as well as the Martell's, with all these failed coups to kill Rhaegar and Lya going around, I think all of these are connected."

Tyrion realized that his brother is waiting for him to speak. 'If you only know brother, even Lord Robert is now assembling an army to pledge to his enemy's son,' Tyrion thought to himself.

"I don't have any idea what's happening," he answered instead, "I don't even know that the West and Dorne are preparing for war."

"Well how will you," said his brother Jaime, "I think I just want someone to talk to, someone who can listen."

"Well I'm here, you can talk to me," offered Tyrion, "so what will Lord Arryn do about these events?"

"Well we received a letter from the king, commanding Lord Jon to assemble him a fighting army," answered Jaime, "I'm going to lead them against Dorne or maybe against the West itself, let's see what father will say to the that."

Tyrion was surprised, that was not part of the plan. If his brother will lead the army, he can be hurt or worse, killed.

"But you can die, father won't approved of that," retorted Tyrion, dread now filling him.

"I would die gladly on my post," replied his brother stubbornly, "and I'm not a property of father anymore, I am pledged to King Rhaegar ever since he forgave my treason of killing King Aerys, I will do his bidding even unto my death."

'This can't be,' thought Tyrion, all the effects of wine now gone on his head, 'Jaime is playing the noble servant and he's going to die if he's not going to be stopped!'

"Well who's going to guard Queen Rhaella?" said Tyrion, trying his best to hide his discomfort, "Jaime, I don't want to see you hurt, please don't go to the field."

His brother snorted at that. "You sound like Cersei," said Jaime in a dismissing voice, "if anything shall happen to me while I'm fighting my king's war, then I shall die happy."

Tyrion shook his head, he knows that whatever he says, his brother will not be swayed.

"Talking about our sweet sister," he changed the topic of their talk, "when is she coming here?"

"I'll wager she'll be arriving in a week or so," answered Jaime, sighing on his last word, "do you think Robert will betray the crown?"

'All these questions of his brother are leading dangerously to the plot of the Martell's,' thought Tyrion to himself, shifting on his seat.

"Well, he almost killed the King at the Trident," he answered, "but then I think Robert values his friendship with his dear Ned more than his feud with His Grace," he paused, sharing a look with his brother, "why betroth his heir to Lord Eddard's daughter right?"

Jaime nodded and repeated his last word.

It was already past midnight when Tyrion returned to his humble chamber at the Inn where he is staying outside the castle, all the while feeling sorry for not telling Jaime the truth. He wanted to tell Jaime, but the thought of his father, the great Lord Tywin coming for his head unnerves him more than Jaime's feelings.

"I've been living as an insult for the past twenty four years of my life, I think Jaime could live with a little tragedy on his honor as a knight," he said to himself at the bed before closing his eyes.

The next day, as he is taking his lunch with Bronn at the inn, the sellsword complained about his usual whore being taken by a dornishman.

"Focking dornishman," said the sellsword, "they are taking over the city!"

"Not yet," Tyrion unconsciously replied, deep inside, he knows why there are suddenly strangers from Dorne inside the city, "it's going to happen soon."

"What the fock did you say?" asked Bronn who heard him.

"Nothing," replied Tyrion.

Kings Landing continues to thrive with throng of people from across the realm. Talk of Lord Jon Arryn's command of assembling fighting man reach every tavern, inn and brothels inside Kings Landing as well as the nearby castles and towns, resulting with an overflow of men making their way at the city.

Soon enough, talk of war are sweeping on everyone's tongue but the Small Council of King Rhaegar countered it by saying that Prince Jon will require soldiers for his expedition beyond the wall, to stop panic and unrest among the citizens of the city.

'A good plan,' Tyrion must admit and he later learned that it was an idea of Lord Varys and for a moment, he wonders why the Master of Whisperers has no idea about the Martell's plot, 'maybe he's got a plan on his own.'

After two weeks, the procession of half the court that went with the royal family to the North finally arrived at the city. Prince Daeron and his Kingsguard, Ser Willis Wode along with his companions except his cousin Brandon Stark, who was left behind at Winterfell because he got sick were the only notable nobles to arrive, Tyrion later learned that the King along with the Lord Hand was left behind to Riverrun, the council discussed that His Grace already assembled men at riverlands, taking charge of that duty because Lord Hoster Tully have fallen ill while Edmure has no battle experience.

Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Randyll Tarly, Elbert Arryn and Lord Jon Connington will stand as the commanders while Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Sawane Botley will be tasked to defend the city for any attack, at a moment's notice for any sign of invasion, they shall close the city gates.

His arrogant of a sister, Cersei finally arrived at the capital two days after Prince Daeron's company arrived and soon enough, an unpleasant letter bearing the sigil of a lioness arrived on Tyrion's hands.

'Cersei,' he muttered with gritted teeth when he read the contents of the letter.

Apparently, he is being summoned like a dog to one of Littlefinger's many brothels tonight, telling him to dressed nicely because there will be guests.

'I wonder who these guests are,' he thought to himself.

When the evening comes, Tyrion made his way to Littlefinger's brothel with Bronn leading his horse. The night was damp and the smell of the city seems to cling to him which irritated him.

'I look ugly enough, I can't have a foul smell too in front of Cersei and her little friends,' he said darkly to himself, sniffing his tunic.

The brothel's main hallway was mysteriously empty when Tyrion and Bronn arrived except for a waiting servant whom Tyrion recognized as Griff. The young handsome man didn't show any emotion in his face as he stands impassively at the opposite of the hallway but he gave a nod at Tyrion when he finally took noticed of them.

"M'lord, they are waiting for you at the private room of Lord Baelish upstairs," said Griff, his long blue hair was tied with a knot and Tyrion thought that there's something on the glint on Griff's eyes that's dangerous, like a hunter salivating its way to his prey.

"Can you lead me there?" he asked.

"Of course my lord," answered Griff and Tyrion didn't missed the change of the word my lord.

Griff led the way to Littlefinger's private room, outside the door, Tyrion heard conversations going on but it stopped when Griff knocked on the door.

"M'lord, M'lady, Lord Tyrion is here," announced Griff.

"Let him in," answered Littlefinger.

When Griff finally opened the door for him, he and Bronn entered the private solar with an air of caution. The solar was spacious with a commanding view of the city outside and a mahogany round table is located in the middle of the room.

Cersei's beautiful face stands out among the people that sat around the table. His sister is seating opposite the arch window of the room, wearing a gown of silver, her face is being illuminated by the light from the candles that's burning lazily in front of her, some of her golden hair is tumbling down at the side of her face.

'She almost looks serene,' said Tyrion to himself but he quickly lost the thought when his sister finally looked up to see him, a scowl now forming on her face.

"Sister," he greeted her, "you look pretty, the city really agrees with you."

"Tyrion, you're late, have you been drinking again?" replied his sister, her voice mocking.

He wiggled his way to the only empty chair on the table, all eyes on him while Bronn is dutifully walking behind him, once seated, he finally faced her.

"Why would I make myself sober if I'm going to attend a special meeting like this?" he retorted back, a grin tugging on his lips as he saw his sister's brow knitting together.

"Why indeed be sober when you can be drunk," chimed in a voice and for Tyrion, it sounded dornish.

When he turned to look at the owner of the voice, he saw that it was coming from a man with his feet resting on the table. He has a dangerous look around him. He has a lined face with thick eyebrows, black viper eyes and a sharp nose. He has a long lustrous black hair that recedes from his brow to form a widow's peak.

"I believe the two of you haven't been introduced yet," interrupted Littlefinger.

"I don't believe we do," replied the same man, suddenly shifting and leaving his seat in a fluid motion.

He made his way to Tyrion like a snake, his eyes never leaving his. He didn't flinch from the gaze, meeting the viper defiantly.

"You are Tyrion of House Lannister, the youngest son of the great Tywin Lannister," he said then he knelt one knee to match his gaze once in front of him, "the imp ward of Rhaegar ever since they won his war with the old king."

'He is a dangerous man,' realized Tyrion, 'I need to be careful of what I say.'

"You know a great deal about me my lord, but I don't know you," he replied and he hated the sound of his submissive voice.

A bark of laughter suddenly came out from the man's mouth, breaking the void of silence inside the room.

"Yeah, you don't know me little man," he said, the last of giggles still coming out from his lips, "I am no lord, I am a prince."

Tyrion knows that his face must have looked stupid by the way his sister and Littlefinger smirked after realizing the identity of the man in front of him.

"Prince Oberyn Martell," he said.

This time, the prince smiled at him.

"That I am," he said with a nod, offering a handshake.

Tyrion accepted it and the grip of the man was tight and rough.

"These are my companions," said the prince, now turning to look at his previous seat and Tyrion saw a group that comprise of young men and a woman, "my eldest daughter, Obarra Sand."

Obarra Sand is a big-boned woman near to thirty, long legged, with lose set eyes and a rat brown hair. She is wearing not a gown, but a leather tunic. She nodded at Tyrion solemnly.

"My squire, Daemon Sand, the bastard of Godsgrace," Prince Oberyn pointed a handsome man, with a strong jaw, sky blue eyes and light sandy brown hair. The squire also sports a close-cropped beard and when he smiled at Tyrion, he saw that he has dimples on his cheeks.

"My brother Doran's elder son, Prince Quentyn Martell."

Tyrion thought that the other prince looks decent enough, sober, sensible, dutiful but not the sort to make young girls heart quicken. He is wearing a dornish arraignment and he gave Tyrion a genuine smile.

"And Ser Gerold of House Dayne, the Darkstar," this time Prince Oberyn pointed a man that can compete with the looks of the Targaryen's.

Ser Gerold Dayne has an aquiline nose, high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He has a clean shaven face and has thick silver hair that falls to his collar like a silver glacier, divided by a streak of midnight black.

'He has the famous purple eyes of his house,' thought Tyrion to himself, studying the face of the man, 'and a cruel mouth as well.'

Prince Oberyn stopped after that though Tyrion can see that there is still another one, a figure standing near the window, his back turned against them.

"How about him?" asked Tyrion, unable to keep his mouth from asking.

"That's Prince Aegon," answered Littlefinger, who seems to be watching the introductions with a bored look, "King Rhaegar's first born son."

Amidst the mention of his name, the figure didn't turned to look at them.

'A solitary man,' said Tyrion to himself.

"Well now that the introductions are finished, why won't we cut the chase already?" asked Tyrion, "what is the purpose of this meeting? Can somebody tell me?"

This time, Aegon finally turned around, walking near the light, his face finally showing and Tyrion thought that he's a hard man.

He is tall and has a handsome face, and sports a short cropped silver hair and grey eyes.

Tyrion thought that the color of his eyes were odd.

"Tomorrow, the Iron Throne will be ours," he answered, his voice as firm as his expression, "tomorrow, banners of House Martell will fly along the walls of Kings Landing," then he paused, his eyes turned to Tyrion, "tomorrow my lord, the war will start."

The talk was smooth after that, Cersei volunteered to keep away their brother Jaime, away from the throne room where a fighting will be held in the middle of the court while the Martell's will lock the city gates. The whores employed by Littlefinger are already doing their job tonight, they are making sure that half of the City Watch and the men employed by Lord Arryn will be sleeping at the inns of the brothels around the city on the floor and will not wake up soon while Tyrion will present a plea in front of the court, to buy some time for the others. Prince Oberyn along with Ser Daemon Sand and Ser Gerold Dayne are going to pretend to be guards at the throne room, with the latter tasked as killing Prince Daeron's personal Kingsguard, Ser Willis Wode.

Midnight was already fast approaching by the time the meeting finished and Tyrion went to his bed as quickly, the streets of Kings Landing was as silent as a crypt on their way to the Inn where he is staying.

"Tomorrow, blood will be spilled," he said to Brom.

"Tomorrow, I'm finally going to kill someone," answered the sellsword.

Tyrion was not able to sleep that night, his thoughts are plague with questions of what will happen if they fail and what will Jaime think of him when he learns that he knows the coup that will overthrow the rule of his beloved Rhaegar and Lyanna.

'He's going to hate me,' he thought dryly.

A few hours later, the throne room finally opened for the nobles that will watch the members of the Small Council reading list of pleas, petitions, request etc. from the folks of the city. Inside the throne room, everything seems normal.

Notable audience present is Prince Daeron, along with his friends and his Kingsguard Ser Willis Wode, the Dowager Queen with his Targaryen guard and the members of the Small Council, chief among them is Lord Jon Arryn, who's sitting on a chair at the foot of the Iron Throne. King Rhaegar left the authority to him when the royal family visited the North. Tyrion also saw Griff among the crowd but no one noticed the new guards posted around the room.

'Cersei is probably fucking Jaime at this moment and that is the plan,' he paused, 'everything is going to be ok,' he said to himself, his weight shifting from one foot to another. He paid Bronn a quick glance to see him ready to pounce, 'well that is why I hired him,' he eyed the crowd and noticed that Prince Aegon seems to be missing, 'where is he?'

The morning was almost finished when his chance finally came. He wiggled his way in front of them, aware how the sound of his feet makes then he knelt in front of Lord Arryn.

"My Lord, when will I be allowed to go home at Casterly Rock, the seat of my house is calling me home and I'm longing for a wife," he was surprised how his voice sounded so genuine, "I've been a prisoner of the crown since I was a boy, was it not enough?"

The audience started murmuring while the Small Council gave each other's fleeting looks. Lord Jon Arryn straightened on his seat, then he turned to look at Prince Daeron.

"My prince," said the lord, "what is your thought about this certain plea of your father's ward, go and say what's on your mind."

Prince Daeron didn't flinch when the eyes of the whole crowd turned to look at him.

'A brave boy,' thought Tyrion.

"I think," said the young prince looking at the crowd, "I think my father should hear it," then Prince Daeron exchange glances with him, "Lord Tyrion have been loyal to my father ever since--"

"No he's not," cut in a voice and this time, Tyrion stood up as the new guards walks forward, swords drawn, "and you're not going to see your father ever again little prince."

When the guard removed his helmet, it revealed Prince Oberyn and at once, confusion lingered in the air.

Seeing the danger, Lord Arryn called for the guards and the mayhem started. Everyone are running around and sounds of fighting erupted inside the throne room. Tyrion was pulled to safety by Bronn and he left him there to observe what is happening.

Prince Daeron and his friends along with Queen Mother Rhaella are on one side of the room, unable to escape because from the look of the fight, the dornishmen outnumbers the City Watch four to one. Ser Willis Wode is now fighting Ser Gerold Dayne at the middle of the throne room while Prince Oberyn and Ser Daemon Sand are both clashing swords with Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Sawane Botley respectively, overwhelming them in the end.

When all of a sudden, the little prince cried out and a head went flying down at the foot of the throne room. Tyrion saw that it was Ser Willis Wode, his headless body falling down on the carpet with a thud. By this time, Queen Rhaella embraced his grandson, as if protecting him from harm and soon enough, the bloodbath finally finished. Bodies of members of City Watch are now lying lifeless on the floor, most of them, headless while Prince Oberyn commanded those standing on the dais to go down at the base of the Iron Throne, among them are the only two royal family members that are present, the members of the Small Council and Prince Daeron's friends.

"No harm will come to you," assured the Viper as one by one, they climbed down the steps. Tyrion noticed that all of them looks scared, but not Prince Daeron, who comforted his cousin Arya and the little Mormont girl, telling the former not to do something stupid and the latter not to cry.

When the dais was finally emptied, Prince Oberyn gave a final kick on the belly of Lord Arryn's belly, making the old man grunt in pain.

"I am Prince Oberyn Martell," there was a series of gasps at the surviving crowd, "we have taken the city," he announced when everyone's attention was finally turned to him, "today, a new monarch will start, a new king--"

"You are ever a viper," interrupted a man and Tyrion saw that it was Lord Sawane Botley, who has blood trickling down his face, "you can't hold the city--"

"Kill him," said Prince Oberyn and a spear was drove to Lord Sawane's heart, killing him, making Prince Daeron's friends cry while the crowd shrieks in freight.

"Anyone who will interrupt me is going to die like this fool lord," said Prince Oberyn, pointing the lifeless body of Lord Sawane Botley on the floor and silence settled among the crowd after that declaration, "as I was saying, a new king will now seat the Iron Throne and he is my nephew," the viper seems to be looking at someone in the crowd, "come nephew, show yourself to your subjects."

Tyrion saw that there are movements on the crowd then to his disbelief, he saw not the Aegon he met last night, but the Aegon who's name was Griff.

He climbed the steps towards the Iron Throne, each steps bringing him closer to the monstrous chair and for a moment, Tyrion thought that Griff is walking straight to a gaping mouth of a foul beast, its ragged teeth ready to tear him to pieces. Once at the top, he finally turned around to look at them and Tyrion finally saw the uncanny resembles of King Rhaegar to him.

'He looks like the king more than the His Grace's heir,' thought Tyrion.

"Surprise brother?" said Prince Aegon, looking down at Prince Daeron, "and you as well grandmother, I'm sorry I was not able to introduced myself sooner," then he finally sat on the Iron Throne and everyone on the crowd knelt, including Tyrion, except the Queen Mother, Prince Daeron's friends and the boy prince himself.

"Children, kneel or else I'm going to send each of your thumbs to your fathers and mothers," said Prince Aegon, his voice serious and deadly, sending them quickly on their knees.

This time, only the Dowager Queen and Prince Daeron remained standing.

"Grandmother, do you want me to whip your dear grandson after my coronation or are you going to kneel now to save Prince Daeron some pain?" he half smiled at the Dowager Queen.

"You're making a mistake," said Queen Rhaella, her voice emotional, "you're--"

"Your son Rhaegar made a mistake of spilling his seed inside my mother's womb, you should say that to him, not to me," Prince Aegon sounded amused, "now, uncle Oberyn, please whip Prince Daeron with twenty lashes--"

Queen Rhaella reluctantly knelt and this time, only Prince Daeron remained standing.

"You're a brave boy, little bro---"

"I'm not going to kneel to you," said the young prince amidst the protest of his friends, the Small Council and Queen Rhaella but he is firm with his conviction, "you don't have a right to seat on that throne, only father has and his Hand, even Jon has no right to seat on that, how could you?"

"Insolence," muttered Prince Oberyn and in a few steps he quickly reach Prince Daeron and Tyrion was shocked when he backhanded the young prince in the face, making Daeron stumble on the ground from the force, "you, will, kneel!"

Tyrion turned to look at Prince Aegon to see him shaking his head, his face looks displeased although he doesn't know if its because of his uncle hurting his half-brother or Daeron being stubborn.

"Uncle, you don't need to do that," he said rather too sharply, "go back to your place and Daeron will kneel now," he paused, eyeing his little brother, "kneel now little brother or else, I'm afraid you're not the only one who's going to get hurt," Prince Aegon eyed his friends.

Tyrion saw Prince Daeron following the gaze of his half-brother, probably getting the meaning of the words and then defeated, he knelt much to the relief of everyone.

"King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm," announced Prince Oberyn, "long may he reign!"

Notes:

There it is! Aegon's real identity was finally revealed. I meant to post this update yesterday but I was really tired and promised myself to do it first thing once I wake up. I hope y'all liked it and I really do hope to read your reactions about it. PS. Sorry for the delay (again)

Chapter 12: Eddard I

Notes:

I never thought I'm going to finish writing this chapter but AT LAST! I also visited another country that's why this chapter was delayed but here is Ned's first chapter. Enjoy and please don't forget to leave your thoughts on the comment section below. Thanks!

Chapter Text

The flickering flame attached on the metal torch on His Grace's pavilion seems to reflect the mood of the Targaryen king himself; dim, unstable and dying but deadly all the same if thwarted.

Lord Eddard Stark is waiting for his liege to speak, ever since the news from the capital was been relayed to them, King Rhaegar have been quiet, talking to no one and not even eating his food. The news was carried by a black raven and Ned already knew, even before the maester of Riverrun delivered it to King Rhaegar's own pavilion as they are getting ready to march their army to block the marching westernmen on the Roseroad and Riverroad that it was an ill news.

"Kings Landing has fallen, Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name now seats the Iron Throne as its king, all those will pledge their swords to the new king will retain their titles and honors but all of those who will oppose him shall be destroyed. Ser Willis Wode and Lord Sawane Botley have died on their futile struggle to kill Aegon with treachery but Ser Gerold of House Dayne put that folly to end when he beheaded the treasonous kingsguard and drove a spear to the insolent Ironborn lord's heart. We now hold the Dowager Queen Rhaella, Sansa and Arya Stark, all of the remaining members of the Small Council of King Rhaegar and Prince Daeron as hostages and more."

"King Rhaegar is hereby commanded by King Aegon to return to the Capital at once, together with all the remaining Kingsguards, his queen consort, Queen Lyanna of House's Stark and Targaryen, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and his wife Lady Catelyn Stark, Lord Elbert Arryn of the Vale and his wife Lady Lysa Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully, Princess Margaery of House's Tyrell and Targaryen, her father Lord Mace Tyrell, her mother Lady Alerie Tyrell and her husband, Prince Jonothor Targaryen, if they fail this command, they shall be branded as enemy of the crown and suffer death."

"If something happens that'll displease the new King, all should know that we have hostages that shall suffer the consequences of their actions as well, Prince Daeron shall receive forty lashes if his father would make a move against the Iron Throne, every hour of every day and we also have two Stark girls, what will happen to them shall depend with your actions so choose carefully."

"Prince Oberyn of House Martell"

'Prince Daeron,' thought Ned, remembering his nephew, unable to imagine the torture the Martell's are giving the little boy, with an invisible despair dawning on him, 'and Sansa, I have put her in danger by trusting the words of that treasonous Robert and Arya too,' he paused, glancing at the King who remains unmoved by the sudden turn of events, Ned knows that among them who's inside the pavilion, this is hardest for the King to take in.

In one swift move, the Martell's, Baratheon's and Lannister's have taken Kings Landing, along with it, hostages.

"Your Grace," said the lord Hand, "do I have the permission to send back a raven to Kings Landing?"

No answer.

"Rhaegar, please, we need you--"

"What would you have me do, my lord?" King Rhaegar cut his Hand rather too sharply, "if we make a bold move, my son's safety would be in jeopardy as well as Ned's little girls, would you like that, to endanger the life of my son? Daeron could be your king in the future for all we know."

No one moved, everyone inside the pavilion became silent as a grave after King Rhaegar's outburst. Ned saw that Elbert Arryn shifted on his seat while Lord Randyll Tarly gave Lord Jon Connington a smirk.

"Pardon me for speaking Your Grace," Ned was surprised that he heard himself talking, "but we can't actually accept their demands, if we do, we all know what will happen, we're going to be hostages, leaving the younger generations of our families fighting the likes of Tywin Lannister, Prince Oberyn and Robert Baratheon in the field," Ned tasted poison muttering the name of Robert, "yes they hold hostages including two of my children and Prince Daeron," Ned thought that Bran's sudden fall to illness was a blessing in disguise because if his son accompanied Prince Daeron on the capital, three of his children must now be under the thumb of King Aegon's rule, "but we should not forget that we have the advantage here," he paused, eyeing every lord inside the tent, "we have a far greater army than them. My house commands a twenty thousand soldiers and the North can still raise those numbers to forty if the need arises."

"And my house has already twenty-five thousand soldiers camp near the highroad," answered Lord Elbert, "and House Tully has fifteen thousand soldiers currently at their command from what my wife have told me."

"And House Tyrell's chivalry of the south can combat the three regions that have risen up against us, as they did in the past, including the power of our naval force, we have House Greyjoy's Iron Fleet, House Redwyne and House Manderly's ships," this time it was the lord Hand, who seems to be unaffected by the outburst of his liege earlier, "Your Grace, we outnumber them five to one."

At that, everyone on the war table agreed but Ned can sense that the king is not convinced. He knows that King Rhaegar is fond of Daeron, he loves him, like the way Ned loves Bran.

"I'm sorry my lords," King Rhaegar suddenly apologized, looking tired all of a sudden, "I'm just really worried about Daeron and my mother, what I said earlier was a mistake but I can't afford to hear my son dying of torture," his voice suddenly became hoarse, "at the hands of his own brother."

Everyone was quiet again after that until Edmure Tully have broken that silence.

"But surely Your Grace, your son Aegon didn't mean any of that," he said, a little reluctant as all the eyes inside the tent now turned to him, "I mean, is he that cruel?"

"I believe that too, Lord Edmure, that my son is not cruel, it's those who are advising him that are," replied His Grace, then he turned to Lord Connington, "my lord Hand, have you written to my son Jonothor? To make haste his affair in the Wall, the realm will need him, now more than ever."

"I already did my lord," answered the Hand just as quickly, "just before we started this council, I asked the maester of Riverrun to send it to Maester Aemon at the Wall."

King Rhaegar looked pleased to hear that.

"My lords," this time, it was Lord Randyll, "while we are waiting for the Crown Prince, we can use that precious time to asked for an audience with them, a parley of sort," the southron lord paused, "perhaps we can end this war with diplomacy."

Ned thought that the suggestion was ambitious but everyone nodded all the same.

"We can send a raven to Kings Landing about this and if they agreed, then what could go wrong under a banner of truce?" added Lord Tarly, "mayhaps, you can even persuade Aegon to change his heart my king, after all, you are still his father and not Prince Oberyn nor Prince Doran."

Ned knew that Aegon would not bend, not now that he has the backing of three great houses and Kings Landing is now under his command.

'The Martell's will hold the throne till the bitter end,' he thought sourly, dreading what shall happen to their hostages if King Rhaegar's army are now marching to the Red Keep, he only saw death and he prayed to the Gods of his fathers to spare the children of such horrible faith.

His wife Catelyn remained at Winterfell to care for their son Bran with his sons Rickon and Robb and his son's pregnant wife Jeyne. Robb will march with the northern cavalry once summoned by the King in the coming months when the battle on the field starts.

"All right then," said His Grace, "write to my son Aegon, my lord Hand, send a banner of truce," he paused, eyeing the storm lord, "tell him I would like an audience, it shall take place at..." King Rhaegar eyed his subjects, including Ned, as if waiting for someone to tell him the exact location, then a smallest of grin came on his face, "it shall take place at Harrenhal. Write to him like you will write to me, I don't want to disrespect the Martell's at the cost of the suffering of my son Daeron."

"At once, Your Grace," answered Lord Jon, then he called for a handsome servant, commanding the boy to bring him quills and papers.

The remaining hours of the day was spent composing the letter of truce and at twilight, three ravens flew from the rookery of Riverrun to Kings Landing. Soon enough, Ned found himself sitting next to the King, at the table that separates them, a number of food are in front of them, but both men doesn't have the stomach to even lift the fork.

"What do you think Lya will feel about this?" asked the King after a few minutes of continued silence.

"The same way as you, Your Grace," answered Ned.

King Rhaegar sighed.

"That's not good for our unborn babe," he said and Ned thought that it seems like the weight of the world is on the king's shoulders, "I reckon she'll be joining us soon."

"Lya?" then Ned scoffed, "I don't have doubts about that, Lya might be already on a ship on the way here."

King Rhaegar nodded at that with another of his rare smiles, a fond smile for his wife.

"I heard news that your own bastard nephew is a loyal friend of my son, do you know his name? Brandon and Ashara's boy?"

"Vorian Sand," Ned answered, the ghost of his brother Brandon making its way on his face, "he has Brandon's eyes, but they say he is far more talented fighting with a sword than Brandon ever was and much more handsome a well."

"The son always surpasses the father Ned," said King Rhaegar, his voice grave, "did you had the chance to meet him in the past?"

"Only once," he answered, "I received a message from House Dayne some seven years past during one of my longer stays at Kings Landing, the message was from Ashara, telling me that she and her son wants to meet me and I agreed, I even brought Robb, to meet his cousin Vorian."

"I see," said the King, "did Lyanna met them too?"

"I'm afraid not, Ashara specifically wrote on her letter that she and her son wants to meet me," answered Ned, thoughtful, "but soon enough, I'm sure Lyanna will finally meet him," then his stomach grumbled, "Your Grace, I know it's not my place to tell you this but we must eat, Lyanna will probably berate the both of us if she saw us looking thinner than the last time she laid her eyes on us," Ned smiled and he was glad that King Rhaegar was the one who took up the fork first, stabbing it to the lamb meat nearest to him.

"You're right," he said, "we must regain our strengths back."

For weeks, King Rhaegar and King Aegon's camp exchange messages concerning about the parley. The younger kings camp agreed that it shall take place at Harrenhal and they demanded that only fifty soldiers must accompany each of the camp and only members of the families from the Great Houses of Westeros are welcomed. Ned argued that the Lord Hand must be present and in the end, the Martell's finally agreed, saying that they will also bring their own lord Hand.

Two weeks before the Parley at Harrenhal will take place, news of the queen's arrival reached them and in only a matter of days, riders from Maidenpool confirmed that Queen Lyanna, along with Princess Margery and a procession of lords and ladies will arrive at Riverrun within three days.

But King Rhaegar didn't waited for his sister's arrival, he joined the honor guard that same evening when the riders from Maidenpool arrived, bringing with him half of the court and Lord Connington, leaving Ned in command of the King's Army for a few days.

"What d'you reckon will happen?" asked Elbert, as they stand at the ramparts of the castle, overlooking the river side of Riverrun.

"I reckon there will be battles to be won," answered Ned, side glancing at his childhood friend, "lots of it."

Elbert remained silent after that and Ned waited until the Arryn finally spill what's on his mind.

"Do you think they will kill my uncle, do you think he is still alive?" Elbert finally asked.

"Jon Arryn? They wouldn't kill Jon, the Martell's knows the worth of him," Ned answered, feeling ashamed of almost forgetting his father figure, "and I think he is still alive, we will know if he's not."

Ned saw that Elbert Arryn looked please but his face turns malevolent after.

"If I meet Robert in the battle, I promise to the old gods and the new, that I will cut off his treasonous head," said Elbert, his voice sounding dangerous, "I wonder what the Martell's have promised him as a reward for his support."

"The promise of revenge," answered Ned gravely, "Robert hates Rhaegar, vengeance blinds people Elbert, no matter the cost."

Their conversation was interrupted when Lysa Arryn and Edmure Tully arrived. Elbert kissed his wife and it made Ned ache for his own Cat.

"Ned," said Lysa with a smile and Ned nodded at her.

Lysa is wearing a sky blue gown, her figure have grown but her hair became thicker with the same shade of color with his wife while Edmure grows a fierce beard and already wearing a garb fit to meet the King and the Queen.

"You should have brought Rickon already," complained Lysa, "he will be a welcome face with his cousin Robert back in the Eyrie."

Elbert and Lysa's youngest son, Robert Arryn was left behind at the stronghold of the Arryn's. He learned from Elbert that Lysa insisted it, telling her husband that the road is perilous and that if something happens to them, there will be one Arryn left to oppose the Iron Throne. Ned was amused to hear that, 'Little Robert may survive us yet,' he thought quite amused.

"Cat won't have none of it," answered Ned, "she still considers Rickon a babe."

Lysa scoffs at that.

"A babe? From what Harrold told me, he saw his cousin wrestling with a direwolf twice as big as him," she said with an amused smile, "but I understand Catelyn, after all, we Tully's considers family as the most important thing."

When all of a sudden, Elbert and Lysa's first born son, Harrold came running on the yard on the other side of the castle, calling up to them.

"Mother, father, uncles! The King and Queen's party will be arriving, come on down!"

Lysa smiled at the look of her son while Elbert only shook his head. Edmure led the way to the stairs, followed by his sister, then Ned and Elbert trailing behind.

"I haven't seen Lya for a year," commented Elbert, "what does she look like now?"

"The same look the last time you saw her," answered Ned as they descended down on the stairs, "the only difference is, her belly's swollen."

"Their third already," commented Elbert, as they come upon the archway that will lead to the yard where a crowd of nobles are already assembled, the ladies are garbed with their best gowns while the men are wearing armors of war, but Ned thought that Lord Tytos Blackwood's magnificent raven cloak put them all to shame, "what do you think, will it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, from what Maester Luwin have told Lya," answered Ned.

"A girl," Elbert nodded as they crossed the yard, amidst the onlookers of Riverrun, "she'll be the crowning jewel of her brothers then."

"Indeed," agreed Ned as they take their positions, only Edmure and Ser Brynden Tully was the first in line, as a respect for their positions as a brother and heir of the sick Lord Hoster Tully, the lord of the castle. Ned along with the other members of Great Houses of Westeros were placed on the second line, and after them, the banner men sworn to them.

Soon enough, a horn was blown and riders bearing the sigil of House Targaryen started pouring in, including the King himself as well as his Lord Hand and the two Kingsguards, Ser Myles Mooton and Ser Richard Lonmouth. The royal wheelhouse came next, along with it are men wearing the sigils of House's Stark and Tyrell.

The huge sky blue wheelhouse stopped not far in front of the two Tully's with a crunch on its heavy wheels, then a servant laid down a carpet below the door that runs up to where Edmure and Ser Brynden are standing then the same servant opened the door.

"Her Highness, Princess Margaery of House's Tyrell and Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and wife to Prince Jonothor Targaryen, the heir to the Iron Throne," called out the servant and everyone bowed.

Princess Margaery came out from the wheelhouse then, wearing a magnificent gown of gold and green, the colors of her house and a slender crown similar to his nephew Jonothor. She composed herself like a true queen and the smile on her face brighten up the foul mood on the castle. Ned thought that the princess learned his courtesies well when she greeted Edmure and Ser Brynden, she even kissed Ned on the cheeks. She was followed by her Tyrell cousins who remained standing opposite where the nobles stood their ground.

"Her Grace, Queen Lyanna of House's Stark and Targaryen, queen of the Seven Kingdoms and wife to King Rhaegar Targaryen, the one true king of Westeros" called out the servant and everyone knelt including Ned.

He couldn't see anything but the dirt on his boots and the silent murmurs of the people around his made Ned's hearing buzz.

"Stand," came the voice of his sister and they all obliged.

Ned saw that she is wearing a gown the color of charcoal and on her belly, it was clear that she'll soon enter the late state of her pregnancy. She is wearing her crown fashioned with the crown of winter roses that the king gave her when he won the tourney at Harrenhal a long time ago. Plastered on her face is the cold look of their father Lord Rickard Stark, proving that even though she's been living with the dragons at Kings Landing, the blood of the Kings of Winter still flowed in her veins.

'As was mine,' thought Ned.

"Ah Edmure," she said, a smile now forming on her lips, greeting the younger Tully after the latter kissed her on the right hand while Ser Brynden bowed his head, "how is Lord Hoster? I heard he's ill."

"He's getting worse Your Grace," answered Edmure, "he doesn't leave his bed--"

"He is stubborn like an ox, my queen Lyanna," cut in the old knight, "he'll be fine."

Ned saw that Lyanna nodded to that then the two of them shared a glance and then a familiar smile formed on his sister's lips.

"Ned," she said, walking towards him and kissing him on the cheeks, "oh Ned, Arya and Sansa, what--"

"Please sister," he cut in, "this is not the place."

"You're right," Lya answered with a sad sigh then the queen turned to look at their host, telling him with her look that she is finish with introductions.

"Well, we should start the feast!" bellowed Edmure and Riverrun cheered.

The feast was a dull affair, everyone knows that they will be at war soon and Prince Daeron is a hostage of his own brother, King Aegon. For Ned, even the laughter of the noble's sounds forced. He is seated below the dais where the King and the Queen along with Edmure Tully and Princess Margaery are seating. Ned looked at his sister and he saw her talking with her husband, her face worried then King Rhaegar kissed her on the lips while he also saw the Tyrell girl talking with Edmure Tully, the two of them laughing from an unheard jest.

For a moment, he longed for the quietness of Winterfell, of the summer snows, of the laughter of his children and his wife's touch.

'This will be over soon,' he thought to himself, 'for better or for worse.'

Weeks passed and the day of the meeting of the two kings finally arrived, three days prior to the day of the truce, Ned along with the king and the queen, the members of the Great Houses and fifty riders along with Ser Myles Mooton and Ser Richard Lonmouth and the Lord Hand, started their march towards Harrenhal.

Ned was riding with the Elbert and his son Harrold along with Willas and Garlan Tyrell, two of the three sons of Lord Mace Tyrell who will not be able to attend because of the distance and the short notice. The younger men are talking about sword fighting and what's best to do if you lost your sword in the middle of a fight.

"I always bring a dagger with me," answered Ser Garlan Tyrell, showing the dirk strapped just above his boots, "and I'm good at throwing it between my enemy's brows."

"Bah!" countered Harrold, "I'll pick up some shield and overwhelm my enemy with my strength."

Willas laughs at the two of them.

"Use your head, the two of you, there's a better way distract your enemy," said the Tyrell heir, "throw a sand on his eyes, or a mud or something similar, you'll rob him of his vision then you can kill him quickly."

Ned smiled to himself. Garlan reminds him of himself, Willas reminds him of Elbert and Harrold, he reminds him of Robert. He doesn't know what he'll do to Robert if he saw him today but he unconsciously reach for his own sword Ice.

'I should just kill him,' he said to himself, his mood turning dark.

It didn't improve that they finally saw the shadows of Harrenhal itself, Ned knew from experience that nothing came good from a stay on the castle, remembering the war of King Aerys and King Rhaegar in the past and all of the deaths including his own brother and father.

Above the walls of the black castle, he saw white banners of truce, the blazon of House Whent which is a nine black bats displayed over a yellow field was also significantly missing on the ramparts of the Harrenhal.

A kilometer away before they reach the main gate, a servant from House Whent emerged from the gates, riding a chesnut horse. It was a messenger, telling them that King Aegon's party is still on the road. It was Lord Randyll's idea to arrive earlier than expected, to evade a possible treachery from the other camp. They will be camping outside the gates of Harrenhal and so tents, spitfires and the pavilion of the King was erected first followed by the perimeter that will be stationed by guards night and day.

Ned was inside King Rhaegar's pavilion, discussing with the King when a trumpet sounded, signaling the arrival of the other party.

"They're here," he said.

"Alert Harrenhal's guards," instructed the King, turning to look at his Lord Hand, "if they didn't complied with the agreement, and brought more men than us, then we'll be needing Lord Whent's soldiers and his gates must welcome Lyanna and Margaery, tell them to lock the gates and send a raven at Riverrun if it shall happen," he paused, "Harrenhal might be in ruin, but its walls are still the most formidable in the whole Westeros."

Ned saw that Lord Connington nodded, then he went to do the task himself, followed by his entourage of handsome boys.

Minutes later, the same servant who greeted them outside the gates of Harrenhal arrived at the Kings pavilion, reporting that Aegon actually complied with their agreement, surprising even Ned, bringing only fifty soldiers and the members of the Great Houses that declared for him.

"They are now erecting their own camp, Your Grace," said the servant, kneeling on the carpeted floor, "and between the two camps, Harrenhal's own people are already building a huge pavilion where the parley will take place."

His Grace nodded at that.

"When will it be finished messenger?" asked Willas Tyrell.

"It's already finished my lord," answered the servant, "this twilight, the parley can take place."

After that, the servant was finally dismissed and the only thing they had to do is waiting for the twilight. When it finally came, it was the lord Hand who was the first to come to the place where the parley will take place accompanied by Ser Myles Mooton.

"If you hear a commotion inside," said Ser Myles, talking to Ser Richard Lonmouth, "escort the king and the queen inside Harrenhal."

"I will," nodded the other Kingsguard.

"Come on Ser," said the Lord Hand in which the Kingsguard finally conceded.

Lord Jon Connington and Ser Myles Mooton made their way towards the huge pavilion patterned by the bats of House Whent and its colors of yellow and black. Ned watch as the two men disappeared inside the flapping entrance of the tent.

Minutes later, Ser Myles walked out of the tent, just near the entrance, commanding the half of the men they brought to surround their side of the tent, to block anyone that will try to get on their tail. After that, Ser Richard Lonmouth, led the way towards the entrance of the tent, followed by King Rhaegar, flanked by Elbert Arryn and Ned on the both sides then came Lyanna, surrounded by Edmure Tully in front, Harrold Arryn on her left and Willas Tyrell on her right. They were followed by Ser Garlan Tyrell then came Princess Margaery, surrounded by her cousins who are her ladies in waiting as well as Lysa Arryn. Ser Denys Arryn, the Darling of the Vale and the Blackfish holds their rear.

Ned saw that the pavilion is four times bigger than those of King Rhaegar's once they finally entered. It can comfortably seat more than a hundred people. A servant from House Whent guided them to their seats accordingly. He is seated just below the king, the queen and Princess Margaery along with Elbert Arryn, Willas Tyrell and Edmure Tully while the others are seated below them. Lord Jon Connington and Ser Myles Mooton are standing at the either side at the bottom of the dais while Ser Richard Lonmouth is standing behind the royal family.

Once seated, Ned saw the assembling party opposite to them, he knew most of them from his youth. But the one seating atop the dais he's not familiar with must be the young Aegon himself, the mirror of his father but has the tanned skin of the Martells. King Aegon is wearing a cruel crown of gold, his silver hair braided on one side. His surcoat is a divided three heads of the dragon of House Targaryen and the sun and spear of House Martell but Ned couldn't keep his eyes on the look of the young king.

'He looks cruel,' he thought to himself, 'and a little giddy too.'

But Ned's attention was directed soon enough towards one of the Kingsguard that flanks the young king because he knew for certain that it's his nephew Vorian Sand, the son of his late brother, Brandon and Ashara Dayne.

'He looks like Brandon,' Ned thought to himself, 'though he dyed his hair with the color of silver.'

The other Kingsguard of the young king must be a Dayne. Both of them stands like a sentinel at the either side of King Aegon, their hands gripping the pommel of their own respective swords and wearing the white armor and cloak of the Kingsguards.

Below the dais sat a rather group of familiar faces. From the Lannisters side sat Tyrion Lannister, the heir of Lord Tywin Lannister, looking hideous as ever even though his garments say otherwise. Beside him sat the frail looking Elia Martell of Dorne who's wearing a yellow gown belted by the sun of her house and then there's the ever beautiful Cersei Lannister, standing in for House Baratheon even though Ned can see that Robert's younger brother Stannis is seating at the lower seats as well. Below them sat the younger generations of the House's Baratheon, Lannister and Martell's and mirroring Ser Myles Mooton and Lord Connington, Prince Oberyn Martell and Lord Tywin Lannister also stands at the bottom level.

"We meet again Rhaegar," came the voice of the Red Viper, "how long has it been?"

"Shorter than what you deserve from the exile that we'll give you once we retake Kings Landing," answered the Lord Connington with a smirk, "and Lord Tywin, I always knew you'll outlive the end of your proud house."

Prince Oberyn's face grew furious from the exchange of words but Lord Tywin remained silent.

"I don't see Prince Doran," said Lord Connington, "I know that he's the one behind this treasonous act, where might he be, hiding in the grass like the snake that he is?"

"Jon, that's enough," cut in the king, "we came here to parley, not to banter with words."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Lord Connington faked a bow.

"Its funny that you have a lot of questions directed at us but have you answered why we knew all the plans of my father's Small Council?" came the amused voice of the younger Targaryen king and Ned saw that Lord Connington's turned from a frown to then a realization, as if he knew King Aegon in the past.

"What is the meaning of that Jon?" asked Ser Myles who's intrigued about the pronouncement of the younger king.

When Lord Jon Connington didn't speak, the young king answered for him.

"I'd been fucking your Lord Hand for months, father," he answered, amused, "I disguised myself as a servant at Kings Landing and moving the right strings on my fingers," he made a point by moving his own, "Lord Connington here finally got a good look at me, blue hair, worn out clothes, filthy skin and a handsome face, he took the bait," then he smiled and it brought cold shivers from the exposed skin of Ned, "oh its so easy getting information from his loose tongue, it was almost as easy as entering his loose ass."

A laugh came from Prince Oberyn and the Kingsguard that looks like from House Dayne at the side of the young king.

"Speechless now are we my lord hand?" said the younger king, imitating the voice of a lowly servant.

There was a silence until Lord Tywin spoke.

"Rickard Stark is dead, Jon Arryn is rotting in a dungeon cell, Hoster Tully is dying, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Oswell Whent and Prince Jonothor are all gone," came the voice of Lord Tywin, scoffing after the last word and now all the attention are on him, "no one is going to stop us now, I'm not threatening you, King Rhaegar, but you will face defeat this time."

"We won against you Lannister," cut in Elbert Arryn, "and we're going to win again, you know full well that we outnumber your meager army five to one, you're not going to escape us, this time, you're going to die."

"So it seems," is the short reply of Lord Tywin, not making any further comments and fixing Elbert a hard stare.

"Where's my younger brother anyways? I miss him," cut in King Aegon who looks amused from the exchange of threats.

"Prince Jonothor is on a diplomatic mission," answered Ser Myles, "he'll be coming back soon."

"Is he now?" King Aegon was all smiles, then his face turned serious, "what shall happen next, will you surrender now father? I'll gladly accept your defeat. You shall spend your days with me at Kings Landing, together with your queen and my half-brother's own wife as well as sweet Daeron but Jon, hmmm what shall I do with him, my lord Hand?"

"Prince Jonothor shall be exiled to the Free Cities, he's going to spend his days wandering the lands Across the Narrow Sea," answered Lord Tywin, "and we'll be needing members from House's Stark, Arryn, Tully, Greyjoy, Tyrell and other significant minor houses to become hostages of the Crown, they shall be killed if a rebellion from the mentioned houses occur."

Everyone became silent after that. Ned wanted to laugh from what he heard.

'They must be mad,' he thought to himself.

He was waiting for Lord Connington to speak, after all, that's one of the things he's best at but the Griffin Lord didn't even made a move. Ned guess that the lord Hand was far too shocked to even utter a single word.

"And here is our proposition," said Ser Myles instead, "if you surrender now, your houses shall be spared of extinction, only the youngest son or eldest daughter if that's the case from the main line shall inherit the keeps of their fathers and the rest shall become hostages of the crown. Tis a fair offer for traitors like the lots of you, surrender now or die."

A laugh came from Prince Oberyn followed by the young king.

"We're not going to bend, not now, not ever," said Aegon, his face amused.

"I was hoping you'll surrender Aegon," King Rhaegar cut in and when Ned turned to look at the king, he saw that only the hint of a lord's expression while talking to his vassal is written on his face, "if you don't surrender now, we're going to crash your small army, I'm going to send the Redwyne and Iron Fleets to lay siege at Kings Landing and Sunspear while Lord Greyjoy shall be welcomed to ravaged the westerlands," King Rhaegar paused, all of them hanging on his every words, "you may have Kings Landing but we also have friends inside the city, you're not going to hold it for long my son, surrender now and avoid death," then the king turned to look at Princess Elia Martell, "Elia, you know what will happen, are you so determined to give this cruel faith to our son?"

The kind face of Princess Elia suddenly grew sharp.

"If only you fulfilled your promise to my mother and brother," said the Martell Princess, her voice dangerous, "none of these would have happen, my mother died because of you Rhaegar, she died with grief when news from Maidenpool arrived at the rookery of the Old Palace, telling of the union of the dragon and the wolf at some forest island, her death filled us with vengeance and now we're here," she paused, "we know the consequences of our actions Rhaegar and I'm pretty sure you know yours too. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken, those are our words and I say it now because we're not going to stop."

"Then you chose death," answered King Rhaegar, "expect my army to arrive at your doorstep soon."

"And expect that the hostages under our care will be punished accordingly," said Prince Oberyn, "be warned Rhaegar that everyone you thought is not what they seems, you'll experience that soon enough."

'Everyone you thought is not what they seems?' asked Ned to himself, repeating the words of the Red Viper in his head, 'what is the meaning of that?'

"Then this parley is at end," declared Lord Tywin, "come Your Grace, we--"

All of a sudden his sister suddenly stood up.

"Pardon me Lord Lannister but King Aegon, might I have a word? Rhaegar will surely stay, as well as my brother Ned, you can choose two from your companions as well."

For almost a minute nobody moved and Ned thought that the younger king will not obliged to the request but then he nodded and turned to look at his mother and uncle.

"I haven't married yet, so she is still the only queen of Westeros and no one can't ignore a queen's request," explained Aegon surprising everyone inside the pavilion.

The nobles started leaving one by one, some of them casting those who will stay behind a certain look including Ned. He even heard Ser Myles Mooton and Ser Richard Lonmouth protesting to his sister, telling her that the Martell's are not to be trusted but Lyanna are having none of it, she's willful as ever.

When the last of the nobles have finally gone as well as the two kingsguards of the both party, leaving the two Targaryen kings, his sister Lyanna, Prince Oberyn, Princess Elia and himself inside the pavilion, the six of them met at the middle of the tent where they are separated by a huge table filled with refreshments.

Ned was surprised when Aegon himself made his way towards his sister, he is followed by his mother and uncle.

"Queen Lyanna, may I?" he said, wanting to kiss his sister's hand in which Lyanna agreed, "we finally meet," then Aegon turned to look at Ned, "and you as well Lord Stark," then he looked at his father last, "and father."

It was clear that Aegon was caught off guard when His Grace wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"Father, I'm overwhelmed," said Aegon, looking abashed, the usual expression of cruelty and arrogance now gone on his handsome face.

"As do I," replied King Rhaegar, "and it was sad that we meet each other in such a foul circumstance."

After Aegon, Princess Elia exchange pleasantries to Lyanna next to Ned and finally to the king, kissing him on the lips.

"Rhaegar, always a pleasure to see you," she said right after and Ned felt kind of awkward seeing the Martell princess kissing the king on the lips, he wonders what his sister is thinking from what transpired in front of them, "and Lyanna, pregnancy agrees with you, you look stunning."

Next came Prince Oberyn who after shaking Rhaegar's hand, suddenly turned to look at his sister Lyanna.

"What is the purpose of this request Your Grace?" he asked, "but I guess I already know, is it about your sweet boy Daeron?" then the Red Viper turned to look at Ned, "and your girls?"

"I merely came because of my sister," answered Ned, realizing that it's the first time he talked to the Martell prince, "but if you will, are my daughters still alive, Arya and Sansa?"

"Lady Sansa is still at Storms End, and I reckon she'll be staying there for the duration of the war to marry Lady Cersei's heir, Joffrey and Arya, she's the wild one isn't she?" answered Prince Oberyn, "your son Daeron was punished with five lashes for the sake of his cousin."

Ned was surprised when tears suddenly started leaking from his sister's eyes.

"I begged you, don't hurt the children," she said, looking at King Aegon straight in the eyes, "don't kill Daeron, he's only a boy."

Princess Elia turned to look away as well as Aegon for a brief seconds but Prince Oberyn didn't flinch, Ned guessed that he is expecting Lyanna's tears.

"I'm going to try to prevent him from dying, after all, he is still my brother," said Aegon seconds after, "but I can't promise you that he'll survive the lashes for long, especially when the fighting finally starts."

"I'm going to do anything, please spare him and the children from dying," begged Lyanna once again.

Ned wanted to stop his sister but King Rhaegar is not moving too, so he remained on his spot.

"There's nothing you can do about it my queen," answered Aegon, "when the fighting starts, I'm afraid he's going to succumb to his wounds."

Lyanna started crying, sobbing harder and Ned offered her his shoulder to cry onto in which she accepted. He tried soothing her with kind and soft words to no avail.

"Betroth him off to one of the daughters of your vassal then," suggested King Rhaegar, looking firm, "you'll benefit more from it than him being dead, or better yet betroth him to Princess Arianne as a replacement for Viserys, please Aegon, Daeron is a sweet boy."

Aegon turned to look at Prince Oberyn and his mother before returning his gaze towards his father.

"It's possible but be reminded that if we lose the war, then Daeron is going down with us," answered Aegon, looking at his father straight in the eyes, "keep that in mind father."

Ned quickly returned to his own tent after that, feeling exhausted. He ate some food and was reading a book when he heard commotion outside, of men laughing at someone and soon enough, a soldier came for him.

"Lord Stark, His Grace has requested your presence," said the soldier in which Ned quickly obliged.

Upon entering the pavilion of his liege, Ned saw that they are alone. He saw that the king is sitting in front of his writing table and he motioned Ned to seat on the other side, once settled, King Rhaegar poured himself and Ned a drink and after sipping a small amount from the goblet, the king finally spoke.

"I exiled Jon Connington to the Free Cities, that's more than what he deserves for endangering our lives more than once," said His Grace, then his face grew serious, and Ned thought that he already knew what's coming, and he's dreading it, "Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North, I name you in these troubled times, the new Hand of the King," the king gave him the badge of office of the Hand and Ned reluctantly accepted it but then as if on cue, a servant from House Whent arrived.

"Your Grace, my lord, a letter from Riverrun," said the servant who seems to be filling his lungs with lost air from running.

Ned took the letter and was surprised to see that it was from Castle Black. He waited for the servant to leave before asking the permission of the king, to break the seal of the Nightswatch and reading its contents, made him suddenly unsettled. It must have shown in his face because King Rhaegar asked him what's wrong.

"Your Grace," he answered, treading carefully on the subject and looking at the purple eyes of the king, "your son Prince Jonothor," he paused, "the Prince of Dragonstone is missing from the attack they made to a wildling village North of the Wall."

When all of a sudden, a breeze entered the pavilion, threatening to kill the fires on the torch and filling the with cold, a chill from the north.

Chapter 13: Griff II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The sight of the walls of Kings Landing didn't change the raging thoughts inside Aegon's head that started when his father, King Rhaegar sent him a letter on the last night of their stay outside the walls of Harrenhal after the abrupt end of talk of peace, begging him to see the king at the Godswood of the humongous castle.

He didn't want to go but when he confided it to his friend and one of his Kingsguard, Ser Vorian, the son of Lady Ashara Dayne, the best friend of her mother, the knight told him that he should go.

"I met my aunt and uncle today," Vorian said.

"The queen and Lord Stark?"

"Yes, they told me stories about my father, they seems to be good people, especially Queen Lyanna," he paused, "if we're not at war, I would've visit Winterfell and see the North with them but then the Gods always plays a cruel joke in every one of us, they're on the other side of the war and I'm here with you."

"You wanted it then?" he asked his friend as he washed his face with cold water that night, "to visit Winterfell, I mean."

"Yeah, both of us grew up in the desert with sand and sweat all around us, it will be good to feel the cold of a snow for change," replied Vorian, "you should see your father Aegon, you ought to, you're lucky that he is still around, god knows I want to see mine too, desperately, but then how could I? He died before I was born."

There was something on his friends voice that ultimately persuade him to see the king that night.

'I wish I just stayed on my tent instead,' he thought with a dismal mood as he reined his horse, the view of the writhing red dragons on the walls of Dragon Gate of Kings Landing now looming ahead.

Vorian helped him escaped notice by volunteering to be his guard that night then he sneaked out of his pavilion and into the nearby gates of the castle where a servant of House Whent was waiting for him. The servant led him to the entrance of the Godswood.

"King Rhaegar is waiting for you at the heart tree, Your Grace," said the servant before leaving him, "just follow the path and you'll be there for about half an hour if you go slow."

'Half an hour walk? That's far,' he thought to himself.

"Alone?" he asked the servant.

"All alone, Your Grace," it answered.

"You better not be lying boy, if you do, I'll send Lord Walter Whent's body in trebuchet and I'll order my soldiers to launch it piece by piece inside the castle walls and his daughter, the Lady of the castle will surely know who's to blame."

Aegon saw that the servant was clearly caught off guard by his declarations.

"I promise it m'lord, King Rhaegar was all alone when he arrived earlier," he said, speaking in quick succession, "I promise it to the old gods and the new, I ---"

"Stop it you're irritating me already," he said quite amused, "I'll go now."

He never liked the Godswood, he remembered he only visited Sunspear's own once when he was still a boy at the insistence of his cousin, Princess Arianne. He felt naked, exposed and defenseless back then as he and Arianne walk about under the shade of the trees and he felt it now when he entered Harrenhal's own Godswood, as he trudge on forward, deeper and deeper into the forested grounds. Untangled roots are plenty and more than once, he almost tripped because of an unseen root.

The air was reeking with the smell of dead leaves and earth and there was an ominous feeling as he delved deeper into the forest so he never withdraw his sword hand to the pommel of his sword, in case an enemy surprise him. The hour was late and the night insects have all gone quiet and Aegon only heard a stream nearby and a night owl far away inside the forest.

Following the beaten road, he soon found the track stopping abruptly and then just a few meters ahead, he found himself face to face with the heart tree of the castle. If the solemn face of Sunspear's freak tree unnerved him, the look of the visage of hate on the face of the tree now in front of him, with its thirteen deep marks on its wood that seems to be bleeding, terrified him.

The flaring eyes of the heart tree seems to be warning him, warning him of his doom in the castle so he drew his sword and looked into the darkness, calling out for an unseen enemy to come out then he saw a figure coming out from darkness.

"Father," he said, breathing a sigh of relief and sheathing his sword, after King Rhaegar left the darkness behind him, "it's you."

"Son," replied the king, "I'm glad you came and alone too."

"I always fulfill my promise," he said, fixing his father a stare, "unlike some of us," then he eyed the heart tree warily, almost afraid that the tree would move and snatch him while his father ignored his words, instead, he sat on a boulder near the many untangled roots of the tree, staring at the face like an old friend.

"When I first saw this heart tree," he side glanced at him, "it was the night Elia and I conceived you."

He was surprised because his mother mentioned that she and his father conceived him here in Harrenhal, confirming her statements.

"After the dance on the first feast of Lord Whent's tourney , we sneaked back to Elia's tent," said the king, "it was a beautiful memory."

'Why mention that now?' asked Aegon to himself as he was suddenly filled up with hate, 'why mention me and mother? What is he trying to do?'

"Why didn't you," he said suddenly, his voice hoarse so he repeated himself, "why didn't you married my mother? Why didn't you fulfill your promise with my grandmother?" his voice was not accusing, he just wanted to know the truth.

King Rhaegar looked at him with the same melancholic face on his and he realized then they are indeed father and son, that the ladies and soldiers who saw him were not insulting him of mistaking him for the king. Aegon, the unwanted bastard son, shares his father's look more than his true born sons or at least his heir.

"In the wee hours of the morning after that night I shared your mother's bed in her tent, when I was about to return to my quarters at Widows Tower, was also the time I saw and followed Lyanna here in the Godswood," said his father that night, not even looking at him, he's looking in the empty space, so lost with his memory.

"So you took her maidenhead here? That's romantic father, fucking her in front of her tree," he said sarcastically.

King Rhaegar only shook his head with amusement on his lips.

"I only followed her, we didn't even have any conversations, when she knelt at the roots of the heart tree, she prayed to the Old Gods to spare her the fate of marrying Robert Baratheon while I hid myself in that tree," he pointed the a tree behind Aegon, "we actually only was able to talk when your grandfather commanded me to look for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, you know the story about it right?"

The mystery knight, he thought back then. His mother told him the story about that knight who entered the list and won for a day but vanished the next day for the joust and was never found.

"Yeah I heard stories about him," he agreed, "he was the knight that suddenly vanished the day after he won against three knights, he was never found."

"He was never found because he is not a man," said his father, "the knight was actually Lyanna, dressed up in bits of armor of a jouster."

That shocked him. Queen Lyanna? Entering the list as a mystery knight? That's impossible.

"She avenged her friend, because the squires of the knights she had bested had beaten her friend Howland Reed, the heir of Greywater Watch of the Neck back then, he is now its lord, all because he is a crannog, they despised him of his heritage," continued the king shaking his head with the memory, "he tried to fight me you know, Lyanna I mean, when I told her to lay down her weapon and remove her helm but Lyanna was stubborn then as she's stubborn now, I defeated her and I fell in love."

He can't take it anymore, he shook his head with frustration and snarled at his father.

"Why are you even mentioning all those things to me, father? You cannot change the past, you've betrayed my mother's love and trust and now you'll pay for it, you and your queen and all your allies," he warned him.

His father suddenly stood up. The king is wearing a leather mail belted with a dragon's heads meeting in the middle showing in front and under a black cloak, as well as black trousers and heavy boots. His hair is flowing behind him, the same with his.

"I just want to tell you and I just want to let you know that I care about you, your mother knows it, I have written letters to your uncle Doran in Sunspear, asking for you to visit me in Kings Landing, he and your mother agreed but Oberyn didn't," answered his father, "you are a king now, and you have one of the greatest and hardest duty and responsibility to the realm and to your subjects," he paused, now standing in front of him, "don't please them, do what you think is wise and never hurt women especially your future queen, respect her like you would to your mother," then he paused, looking him straight in the eyes, "if by chance you win this war and Jonothor and I died in the battleground, please take care of Lyanna and our unborn babe, as well as your grandmother Queen Rhaella, your aunt Daenerys, even Jonothor and Margaery's child, you can marry it off to one of your children if you think Jon's child will be used to rebel against your reign and if Viserys returns, please smack him in the head for me, he has caused so much trouble already and Daeron, especially Daeron, he is a sweet boy, Aegon and he is your brother."

Aegon didn't realized that his father has now tears on his eyes and he suddenly felt guilty, of what reason the gods only knows.

"I overthrew my father because he was bordering to madness," added the king, "don't go down to that path, you're still young, you are right that I cannot change the past and I wouldn't because Lyanna is the love of my life and the promise I never fulfilled with Princess Mariah and your mother Elia was of duty, one of the many that I was not able to do," his father embraced him after, "be a better king than I am," he whispered to him and for the first time in his life that night, he returned the embrace of his father, crying on his arms like a boy.

"Aegon, are you well?" he heard the voice of his uncle Prince Oberyn.

He didn't realized that they are now inside the city and that the people of Kings Landing are now staring at them, with dull with dead gazes.

"I am," he answered, "I'm just tired."

"Well when we reach the castle--"

"Release Prince Daeron!" yelled one of the men, interrupting his uncle and the crowd starts to murmur amidst the heat of the afternoon sun.

"Stop punishing him, he's innocent!" cried a man furiously.

"Release the young prince!" said another and the noise of their buzzing grew louder.

"Spread out, kill anyone who will try to raise their voice again!" commanded his uncle and their guards pushed the crowd away, giving Aegon and his retinue of knights and ladies more space to breath. The words of his uncle seem to take effect on the people because no one speaks out again, not out loud at least. But their eyes followed Aegon, the look of intense disapproval and hate.

His small council advised him that he should stop lashing Prince Daeron in the courtroom, that news travelled fast in the city and the people of Kings Landing have always adored the young prince and he agreed with them but not his uncle Oberyn.

His uncle argued that to show power, they shouldn't be soft.

"Softness is a weakness that King Rhaegar might use for their advantage," argued his uncle, "why do you think King Rhaegar haven't march his army yet? it's because we hold his son and if dares to march them all here in the city, he knows the young prince will die so if he thinks we are going easy on the kid, then what's stopping them from taking back the city? We need to exhaust his army, Daeron's lashing will help with that."

And that was the end of it. Aegon partly agreed with his uncle but the look on his little half-brother's face as the leather licked his skin during one of the many torments he need to endure made him somewhat guilty, now more than ever.

"It needs to be done," he said to himself as they slowly ascend Aegon Hill, leaving the crowd behind.

When they arrived at the castle, they were greeted by his cousins the Sand Snakes, reporting gravely that Varys the eunuch has escaped.

"Escaped?" Aegon's Targaryen blood rage inside as he looked at his cousin Nymeria Sand, who was the one that moved forward to tell him the news. The older woman is slim and slender as a willow and has a dangerous beauty about her.

"Yes, the night that you departed the castle, Your Grace," she answered.

The eunuch is a sly and dangerous man and not one to be treaded easily, thought Aegon to himself.

He remembered his father mentioning that they still have friends here in Kings Landing, and Lord Varys might be as well one of those friends.

"I expect you're already doing all you can to find Lord Varys, am I not mistaken cousin?" he asked, trying to control his rage.

"Obarra is hunting him down Your Grace, along with half of the Martell guards," she answered.

That pleased him at least and it cooled down his dragon blood. He doesn't want to scold his cousin in the yard of the castle, so he dismissed her with a nod.

Soon enough, Aegon called for his Small Council, his clothes still travel worn but he didn't care and so are the lords serving him. His chosen Hand, Lord Tywin Lannister remained on the field near the Gold road, to oversee his battles so it was only the Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Petyr Baelish as the Master of Coin, Lord Anders Yronwood as the Master of Laws, the coughing Lord Gyle Rosby as the Master of Whisperer, Prince Oberyn as adviser to the king as well as Lady Cersei, stepping on the shoes of her husband for the same position as his uncle. There are still two vacant positions of his Small Council, first is the Master of Ships and Aegon already promised it to a secret ally and the second one is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"What happened on that parley, Your Grace? If I may be so bold to ask," said Littlefinger who always seems to be overly confident with himself.

"Dull and stupid, it was a waste of time," answered Aegon quickly, "now my Small Council, will someone explain how Lord Varys escaped his cell?"

No one answered him. The silence was only interrupted by Lord Gyles frequent coughing.

"I'm going to ask again, how did that eunuch escaped prison?" he asked, now with danger on his eyes and voice.

"We think Lord Varys has an accomplice, my king," answered Lord Yronwood, "an undergaoler named Rugen."

"So where is this Rugen now?" he asked the lord.

"He vanished too, Your Grace."

Aegon side glanced at the window, wondering where that eunuch and his man could have gone too.

'He might as well be listening now on our conversation for all I know,' he said to himself.

"Lord Gyles, I want the chief undergaoler be questioned about this Rugen and kill him afterwards," he paused, eyeing the decrepit of a man, "then tell the remaining undergaolers that the one who has knowledge about Varys, Rugen, the ones who might betray me or any relevant information for this issue shall get the recently vacant position, that also goes for the gaolers and turnkeys."

"At once," Lord Gyles was interrupted by a cough, "Your Grace," then he covered his mouth with the sleeve of his garment, as a fit of coughs have overtaken him.

Aegon shook his head disgustedly, wondering when the man will die. He never wanted Lord Gyles on his Small Council but Lady Cersei argued that because the Reach and the Riverlands are against them, they need the lands of House Rosby and House Stokeworth to feed the city.

"How about the little prince and my grandmother? What have they been up to while I'm gone?" he asked in no one in particular.

"Queen Rhaella is staying where she should be, Your Grace," answered Maester Pycelle, "she loves Prince Daeron and she knows if she don't comply with your command not to leave her quarters, her grandson will be punished."

"And Daeron?" asked Aegon, pleased to know about her grandmother's obedience.

"The little prince is willful as his mother," there was an amusement on Littlefingers eyes, "he stopped Ser Ilyn Payne from killing his beloved Ser Willam Darry, the former master at arms of the Red Keep, from losing his tongue for being insolent," he paused, "Prince Daeron is still nursing his wounds from the lashes that the Kings Justice have given him."

Aegon suddenly remembered the words of his father not so long ago.

'Daeron, he is your brother.'

"I think I'm going to see him, uncle, please continue the council and hear the remaining issues. I don't want to hear any more escapes from our prisoners" he said, suddenly standing up but Lady Cersei stood up as well, "my lady, do you have something to say?"

"I insist that I'll walk with you, Your Grace," she answered.

"If you insist," he offered his arm in which Lady Baratheon eagerly accepted.

Both of them made their way out of the Small Council chamber. Making their way to the throne room and then outside. They are followed by some Martell and Baratheon guards as well as one of the Kingsguards.

"What it is that you want to talk about, my lady?" he asked her, "I know for sure that you don't fancy seeing my kid brother Daeron, so there must be other things that you want to talk about."

"It's about my daughter Myrcella, Your Grace," she answered, "can she be allowed to travel here in Kings Landing to finally meet you?"

"Ah, Myrcella," he said with a smile, imagining a girl with the same beauty as her mother, "write a letter to Storms End my lady, I think it's time that I meet my future queen."

"I'll see to it as soon as I can," said Lady Cersei and Aegon let himself disentangled from her hold, "I'll see you later, Your Grace," she bowed and left him and the Baratheon guards followed her.

Aegon continued on his way towards the quarters of his brother, Daeron and once there, he saw that there are two guards posted at the door.

"Daeron, is he inside?" he asked one of the guards.

"Yes, Your Grace," then the other one opened the door for him.

Aegon went alone inside and from what he saw on the window, the afternoon sun will soon fade. He saw his brother standing frozen near the table and he made his way towards him.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"I'm-I'm just going to get some food, Your Grace," he answered, his silver hair is on a messy bun.

"Let me help you with that," he said, pulling the small boy towards him and doing his hair, "I heard you've been punished by Ser Ilyn, are your wounds healing?"

His brother remained silent.

"You ought to reply when I'm talking to you brother, I'm your king," he chastised him as he finished his hair, "there, you're all set."

"It's healing, I guess," he finally answered.

"Let me see," said Aegon, taking a seat and looking at Daeron who suddenly turned his gaze on the ground, "let me see it Daeron, now!"

His brother reluctantly removed his tunic and what Aegon saw appalled him; the marks of the recent lashes are still burning red on his small body and his old wounds from the back are now the color of purple.

Aegon moved to touch it, wondering it its real but his little brother cowered in fear and that's when he realized the trauma and pain he's getting, as he stepped back from him.

"I won't hurt you," he said calmly, "I promised."

He doesn't know how half of the wounds on his little brothers body have gotten on his back and chest, he only remembered ordering his uncle Oberyn to give him fifteen lashes in total but from what he can see now, it's at least more than thirty.

"When and how did you get these wounds?" he asked him as he knelt to match his gaze.

"The guards that comes with me every day, if they saw fit that I did something wrong, they would lash me every now and then," his brother answered, matching his gaze like a man, "I always see someone I know being treated like animals by some of your household and they are good people and when I try to stop them, the guards would whipped me in the back."

"Do you hear their names?" he asked, feeling guilty for the pain that his little brother must be getting.

Daeron shook his head and for a moment, Aegon saw the pain crossing his face and the tiredness on his eyes.

"I'll tell Maester Pycelle to give you a something to drink to ease your pain," he told him, "the Grand Maester comes here to treat your wounds right?"

Daeron shook his head once again.

"What? Why?" asked Aegon, quite surprised.

"I don't want that decrepit old man touching me with his traitor's hands," answered the young boy ferociously, "I don't trust him and so should you."

Aegon was caught off guard from the venom on the voice of his brother.

"Why? Why shouldn't I trust him?" he asked.

"I don't know, I just don't and I hate him," his little brothers voice cracked, but he was able to hold it in together.

'What a brave boy.'

"If you want to sleep uneasy with your wounds and all, then you shall," he said now standing up with his full height, "just don't blame me later on."

He left Daeron after that but he talked to a servant that has been on the service of the young prince ever since to asked Daeron who he trusts to treat his wounds. Aegon doesn't want his little brother collapsing on the court in front of the nobles and servants. He also inquired for the guards that go with his little brother when he's given freedom to the castle and later learned that they are under his uncle, Prince Oberyn.

'I need to talk to him about that,' he said to himself.

The next few days, Aegon held a court at the throne room multiple times a day, it was a long and dull affairs but he felt responsible to hear out the people wanting justice from issues he thought are stupid.

'This is my duty,' he encouraged himself as he tried his best to properly addressed the issues, thinking of how his uncle Doran would act if presented with the same issue and lately thinking of what his father would do too.

Towards the end of his court on the fifth day after his return to Kings Landing, a brother of the Nightswatch, a wandering crow, presented himself in front of the court.

"What is your name and what does a brother of the Nightswatch wants on these troubled times?" asked his uncle Oberyn and Aegon could already hear the sarcastic on his voice.

"My names Yoren, Your Grace, I recruit new members for the Nightswatch," bowed the black brother, "a huge wildling army is now amassing North of the Wall and I'm afraid if they are not stopped--"

"Don't make me laugh," said Aegon, now irritated at the thought of wandering crows not even visiting Sunspear in the past if he remember it correctly, for him it means the allegiance of the Nightswatch have always been with the Stark's and it means they are his enemy, "you come here on my court talking about wildlings who are not even living inside my territory," he laughed and the whole court laughed with him, "and why don't you talk to my father, or even his heir, my half-brother Jonothor if you want recruits? I'm sure there'll be plenty of them on their camp."

He saw that the black brother was surprised, even appalled by his words.

"Aren't you going to say something more?" asked his uncle but then Aegon felt something bad coming when he saw movements on the crowd.

"My uncle Benjen is the First Ranger of the Nightswatch and he said the same thing to our father and have donated a large amount of food supplies and weaponry since then," interrupted his little brother.

Aegon shook his head disappointedly; he knows what's coming for Daeron soon.

"Not only wildlings, but also dead things," the little prince added and the whole court was silence after that until Prince Oberyn chuckled.

"It's clear that you had put the stories of your wet nurse to the heart little boy," he said amused, "as well as the words of your lying uncle"

"My uncle is not a liar!" replied the boy ferociously, then his brother looked at him, "Your Grace, hear him out, we need to help them."

All eyes are now turned towards Aegon, even his uncle who seems to see the hesitation on his eyes.

"You insolent boy, you dare to command a king?" said Prince Oberyn, taking the whip on his belt and with one quick crack, it licked the face of Prince Daeron like a snake in which the little prince stepped back, crying in pain and when the second strike whipped him, it was towards the right hand that's covering the right cheek that's burning with red lash from the first strike.

His brother fell on the ground and all of the people inside the throne room gasped and Aegon stood up, commanding his uncle to stop but the Red Viper didn't and whipped little Arya too, who was trying to help her cousin stand up then in the fourth time, Prince Oberyn whipped Daeron on the same spot on his little brothers face that was been lashed earlier, making it bleed.

"If you don't stop uncle, you will lose your hand for insolence!" warned Aegon and that halted Prince Oberyn who dropped his whip from where he is standing at the bottom of the Iron Throne.

No one spoke after that, Aegon matched his uncles dangerous eyes but then the Red Viper knows better not to awaken the dragon, so he made a forced bow and left the throne room.

"Ser Gerris Drinkwater, please escort the wandering crow for his search of new recruit to the dungeons of the castle as well as the streets of Kings Landing, it seems like it's a noble cause to help the Nightswatch and Ser Vorian, please carry Prince Daeron to his room," he looked at the crowd, "this court is finished for the day, leave."

He waited for the nobles to leave before making his way towards Maegor's Holdfast where his brother's chamber is located.

He is accompanied by Ser Daemon Sand and Ser Gerold Dayne as he made his way towards the tower and he hope the mark of the lash on Daeron's face will not be permanent.

'What would father think of me if he saw the scar on his favorite son?' he said to himself as stand in front of Daeron's room, putting on a wall around him, not planning to show too much concern or it may be seen as a weakness in case there are others inside Daeron's room.

When he opened the door, Daeron was not alone indeed. His cousin Arya is there, on the side of his bed while at the window stood his grandmother. Even Ser Jaime and Tyrion were there as well as his little brother's companions and a number of servants.

His little brother is lying on his bed, healers of all kinds of sort are working on his wound.

He walked towards him but Arya Stark stopped him.

"How could you do this to your own brother?" snarled the little she-wolf, eyes glistening with tears, "you're the worst brother ever!"

"That's enough young lady," warned Ser Gerold.

"And what, you'll whip the little girl too?" countered Ser Jaime sarcastically, "so much for that white cloak on your back, you lots sully the title of Kingsguard if I can even call you that," then he turned to look at Ser Daemon too, "kingsguard swear a vow never to share a bed with a woman, or a man," then he looked at Aegon next, "or did you removed that from their vows, Your Grace? Which was it?"

Tyrion looked horrified from the words of his brother and Daemon Sand was about to unsheathe his sword but Aegon stopped him.

"That's enough Ser Daemon, we don't want to provoke our guest right? Would be inappropriate if the kingslayer," Aegon flashed Ser Jaime with a narrow look, "will be killed defenseless, like what he did to my grandfather."

"He's going to burn down the city, if I hadn't done it, you think Kings Landing is still standing today?" countered the Lannister knight, quick as a cat.

"It might not," answered Aegon, matching the gaze of the golden haired knight, "but King Aerys was still your king, didn't you sully your vows too when you killed him or my dutiful father ignored that too?"

Aegon was pleased when the Lannister knight remained silent after that.

"Leave us, everyone of you," he said then the rushing of feet towards the door was heard but Aegon was not pleased when he saw his grandmother still standing on her spot.

"I said leave us grandmother," he said but her reply was not the one he's expecting.

When Queen Rhaella turned to look at him, there are tears on her eyes then she made her way towards him like a thwarted sleeping dragon and Aegon anticipated the slap on the face and his left cheek burned from the attack.

"Didn't you know you'll lose your hand when you hit a king, grandmother?" he asked her when he recovered from the shock.

"I've slapped Aerys multiple times when he's raping me inside my chamber," answered Queen Rhaella, "and where is he now?"

It was the first time that Aegon saw this side of the queen mother and he's not a bit disappointed. After all, she is still a Targaryen too, no matter how old.

"Letting that snake whip your brother like a common whipping boy," said the queen mother, her voice outrage, "you--"

"I did stopped him grandmother, will you ignore that too?" countered Aegon, his voice rising, "I'm here because I'm worried, same as you."

That silenced the Targaryen queen so Aegon made his way towards the side of the bed. He picked up a clean linen, wiping the blood on his little brother's face.

"It will be stupid to ask if your hurt, but I'm going to ask anyway," he said to Daeron who remained looking at the empty space, the purple eyes which has the same coloring as his was hazy, as if he's not there.

"Daeron, answer me," he said, waking up his brother from his reverie, "you know its stupid that you always choose to speak up whenever my uncle Oberyn was around, never do that again do you understand me?"

Daeron nodded then he kissed him on the forehead. Aegon was about to leave when his grandmother speaks up again.

"Somethings has changed," she said, "I thought it was odd that the guards of Daeron was replaced and that the Martell guards were lessened around us."

"Indeed you are right grandmother," he answered, "I've had a talk with my father and he persuaded me to spare Daeron from dying," then he eyed the Targaryen queen, "I just hope he's not going to betray me," then he looked at Daeron, "you're not going to betray me, aren't you Daeron?"

"I won't, I promise," replied his brother.

"Good," Aegon answered.

But the gods plays a cruel joke indeed and when it seems like the two brothers are finally getting along, Aegon woke up from his bed with shattering news of Daeron's escape and betrayal of trust.

"I told you not to trust the boy," said his uncle.

He is wearing a simple white sleeve shirt and was looking at the window of his room, towards Kings Landing's populace. They are the only two on his room.

"Your daughter Obarra failed to bring me Varys, uncle," he said, his decision now firm, "will you fail to bring me back my brother and his friends?"

"I already know where they are, just a few days ride outside the city gates and the fighting at the Riverlands will not help them too, Lannister troops are scattered on our borders, they won't get away, not if I'm the one chasing them," answered his uncle, "I told you not to trust them Aegon, I warned you."

"I learned my mistake and I'm not planning to repeat that again," said Aegon, still looking outside his window, "fetch me that stuttering fool Uncle, the grand maester, I need him to write a letter to Storms End," he paused, now eyeing his uncle, "I need a new prisoner, another one with a Stark blood," he turned to look at the dark morning sky, thinking about a she-wolf with an auburn hair, "Sansa."

Notes:

I decided to omit the interactions between Aegon and Daeron in this chapter and put it on Daeron's next chapter that will feature his escape too. I hope y'all liked this chapter and if you did, please don't forget to pour your hearts out on the comment section. Take care y'all!

Chapter 14: Jonothor II

Notes:

I finally had the time to finish this chapter! Apology for the late update once again, I was just really busy with life but soon enough I always get back on writing because this is my escape from reality. I hope y'all will enjoy this one. Please don't forget to pour out your thoughts after reading the chapter. Thanks y'all!

Chapter Text

The sun was still hiding behind a smoke like cloud as Jonothor and his party of soldiers continues on their journey towards the wildling village nearest to the Wall. The snow was thick as Jonothor's destrier trudge on the road marked by rangers of the Nightswatch of the past and present.

Along with men sworn to him, his companions Cley Cerwyn, Daryn Hornhood, Lucas Blackhood and Eddard Karstark as well as his father's two Kingsguards, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne have accompanied him on his journey. His uncle Benjen and Ser Gerold Hightower also led the black brothers of the Nights Watch that volunteered to join them on their quest to free the wildling village from the impunity of the King-Beyond-the-Wall.

'That false king will die on my hands,' he said to himself, gripping the pommel of his sword, the Targaryen blood running on his veins boiling at the thought of the people being tortured by the cruel king, 'he's going to pay,' he promised, remembering the thought of the little boy who was rescued by the Nights Watch on their way to the direction of the Wildling Village.

As the night approaches, they made a camp at the crude clearing beside a frozen steam. Jonothor didn't brought any of his younger companions that would normally erect his tent because he saw in their eyes that they are scared and they are only of Daeron's age, some are even younger so he let them stay at the care of Samwell Tarly and Maester Aemon along with his companion Robar Royce, protected by the warmth of the walls of the box buildings back at Castleblack.

After he finished his tent, he joined some of the men in front of the fire, sharing his wineskin and pieces of the lamb. As he bit into the meat, he remembered his father, King Rhaegar is fond of lamb meat and he suddenly wondered how they are all doing; of his mother, Queen Lyanna and his unborn sibling on her belly, his grandmother Queen Rhaella, even his uncle Viserys and his aunt Daenerys.

'I wonder if she is still angry at me,' he thought, remembering her smile and her long silver hair.

He's thinking about his Stark cousins too and his wife Margaery, he misses her warmth so much and her laughing eyes and Daeron most of all.

'He's probably reading some books tonight and in the morrow, he'll tell his companions about what he had read.'

"Jon, are you well?" he was awaken from his reverie by Ser Gerold, he didn't noticed that the giant of a man was now sitting beside him.

'I guess I was really lost in my own thoughts,' he said to himself as he faced the old knight.

"I am well Ser, are you?" he asked.

"I am," answered the knight who offered him his wineskin in which he readily accepted.

"You're used to the cold now Ser?" asked Jon, trying to start a conversation, "I mean, you're originally from the south, you were born at Oldtown, it must be weird that you'll be spending the rest of your days in the cold."

The giant of a knight chuckled.

"I'm used to the cold now but some nights, I wished I'm sleeping in one of the finer chambers at the Hightower, with warm bed and not so cut off from the world," confessed the knight, "but I deserved it though, I did my duty to my king, he wanted Queen Lyanna and I was duty bound to oblige."

Jonothor knows the story of Ser Gerold's attempted kidnapping of his mother at his own castle of Dragonstone, and that earned the knight a ticket to the Wall.

"Gods," cursed Ser Oswell Whent, "was this always this cold out here Gerold?"

"No, tonight was colder I'll admit," answered the older knight, "and tomorrow night I'll bet it will be colder still."

Jonothor shared a few more talks with the men around the fire, hearing their stories about their families and the missus they left at the south.

"Bethy is probably thinking about me right now Prince Jonothor," said a soldier who's only a little older than him and called Raks, "when I see her again, she'll probably have given birth to our baby, same as your little princess I supposed when you see her 'gain."

Jonothor smiled at that. On his return to the south, he'll be looking forward to seeing his own child more than anyone else and he wonders if its going to be dark haired like him, brown haired like its mother or even silver haired like most of the Targaryen's.

He spent thinking about it before sleep finally took him but in the wee hours of the morning, he was awaken by his Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Jonothor," he said in a hushed voice, "wake up, we are being watched."

He quickly bolted upright, the lord commander gave him garbs to protect him from the cold then he belted his sword belt with his two swords hanging on the either side. When he got out from his tent, a small number of men are assembled to one of the few remaining lit fires around the camp, no one seems to be moving but when Jon reach them, he realized they are talking in whispered voices.

"We saw it, four men in the east, m'lord," said the watcher as Ser Arthur Dayne interrogates him, "they seem to have come from the direction of the wildling village."

"Should we attack now, my lords?" asked one of the Nightswatch high ranking officials that volunteered to join him.

"We're going to reach the village tomorrow before noon and whatever preparations for battle the King-Beyond-The-Wall have prepared for us; they won't stand a chance against our steel and chainmail," countered Ser Gerold, "but you'll overrule everyone's decision Prince Jon, what choice will you take? Go now or wait for the light?"

Jon looked at the starless night sky, wondering what to do, if they set out now, darkness will be at their disadvantage but if they wait for the first light of the morning, that will give the wildlings more time to prepare.

"We wait for the first light," he declared finally, easing the tight faces of his companions, "Ser Brynden Tully told me once that his first rule in war is never give his enemy his wish. I'm not going to grant the false kings wish to chase down his watchers because I know it's a trap."

All of them nodded and Jon thanked the Blackfish silently for always giving a sound advice.

"Now, we still have a few hours to spare, return to your previous post soldiers," said the lord Commander in which the men obliged leaving Jon with him as well as Ser Gerold and the two high ranking Brothers of the Nightswatch, "you can still catch some sleep Your Highness."

"I'll just stay inside my tent," said Jon, "this cold is killing me."

The remaining men bowed at him then Jon made his way back to his tent with Ser Arthur Dayne trailing behind him. The knight stopped at the entrance of his tent while Jon continued inside his humble abode. He didn't plan of sleeping again but after reading the map that was laid on his war table, he dozed off minutes later and soon enough, he was enveloped again in a strange dream, where he walks not in a pair of foot but four heavy paws.

This time, in his dream, he just got out from a passage that runs beneath the giant wall of ice. Someone led him to that secret passage and he can still remember its smell.

'Dead meat, dry blood, a faint of whiff rot. And cold. Cold all over.'

In the dark forest, he saw the footprints of a great elk and atop it, he can see through his red eyes a figure sitting on it. He dared not to follow him anymore, he doesn't like his smell. When he looked up, he saw the starless night sky and he shook a little because of the cold.

This cold is different, he thought as his paws started pounding the snow as he made his way on the trees. He sniffed the air after catching his breath on a boulder of rock inside the forest and he smell a prey.

It's been a week now since his last meal and he's not about to lose this prey so he carefully followed the scent, jumping from one frozen river to a huge undergrowth, then making his way around a wall of stone and then finally on a thicket of frozen bush.

His prey sensed him first and made a dash to get away but he is faster, he chased him down, the blood pumping all over his body and it all ended too quickly. He caught the doe as she lost her footing on a frozen ground. He quickly devoured her, starting from her neck and once the body had stopped limping and whinning, he finally dug his teeth and fangs on the flesh of the animal.

Success, he thought with a wolfish grin.

Just as he was about to finish his meal, a cold that cuts through his fur suddenly arrived and he sensed that someone is watching him so when he turned his neck to look behind him, he saw that far away on the trees, a pair of light blue eyes are looking at him.

He bared his fangs at the creature and sensing danger as other movements came into view, of dead men walking towards the smell of the blood of his hunt, he quickly bolted and run on the opposite direction and that's when Jonothor finally woke up from his dream. He quickly reach for his sword, his senses alerted as he search for the danger he felt earlier. The inside of his tent is lighted by a torch and the sound of falling war pieces also alerted the knight on his post outside his tent.

"What is it?" asked Ser Arthur Dayne, "are you ok Jon?"

Jonothor nodded his head, the beating of his heart now coming back to normal when he realized that it was only a dream.

"A dream ser, only a dream," he finally answered after some time, sitting upright and fixing the knight a reassuring stare.

"Well then that is good, do you require anything? Water perhaps?" asked the knight.

"A cup of water would be nice," Jonothor answered then the Lord Commander left him to fetch one.

At the first sign of morning light, Jonothor and his men move further into the forest again and soon enough, the reports of the watchers have been proven true because he saw for himself the marks of the spies from the early morning report.

"Do you think this King-Beyond-the-Wall killed all the people of the village? Including the women and children?" asked Cley Cerwyn as their horses passed through an area of the forest where the trees are thin.

"I think that was just all talk," countered Daryn Hornhood, "he can't very much kill his own people right?"

"Daryn is right," agreed Lucas Blackhood, "after all, they are still his people."

That gave Jon a weird feeling then he turned to Ser Oswell Whent who's riding beside him.

"There is a catch somewhere," he confessed to the knight, "I can feel it."

"I feel the same," answered the knight, "we just need to be more careful once we're inside the enemy territory."

"HALT!" he called out all of a sudden and everybody obliged.

The sound of horses snorting in the snow was heard all around him. All of the eyes of his men are now looking at him.

"I'm devising a plan so that we're not going to be caught unawares," he announced, "here how it goes."

His plan is to cut their forces in half, the first half will go directly inside the village including him while the other half will surround it then a small number of riders led by his uncle Benjen will push further in the forest to see what's still lies out there and if by chance they are about to be ambushed, then one of the riders will sound a horn and they will all gather inside the perimeter of the wildling village and there they will make their stand.

"A sound plan," agreed his uncle, "but what happens if by chance all of us get slaughtered inside the village? How will your mother and father know?"

That gave the men with unsettling feeling and some of them murmured in whisper.

"Then we need another small party to watch from afar, so that if anything bad shall happen, they will return to the wall to report," answered Jon.

His uncle nodded then and asked him to choose who will be that one and Jonothor chose Cley Cerwyn and five other men.

"But I want to fight," protested the Cerwyn heir.

"You will do as I command Cley," answered Jon with the expression of a lord looking at his subordinate.

The plan took place on their next ride. Ser Oswell, Ser Gerold, Eddard Karstark and Lucas Blackhood are riding with him with the cavalry while his uncle and ten other men are now ahead of them as outriders. Ser Arthur Dayne and Daryn Hornhood will stay on the support lines and Cley Cerwyn and the five other men are safely away on a distance behind them, they were given the fastest horse so that they can report anything that transpired once something happened or if the enemy has decimated his force.

"We're now arriving at the wildling town's perimeter, Your Highness," said Ser Gerold.

"I don't hear any sound," commented Eddard Karstark.

"That's weird," added Lucas Blackhood, "we should be hearing the sound of people suffering by now."

'But what if their suffering have already ended?' asked Jonothor with himself, 'what if they are already dead?'

When they reach the bend of the road that directly faces the village, Jonothor's fears have been proven right. A number of dead men littered the entrance of the village. Jonothor kicked his white destrier with a 'YAH!' as he made his way to the pile of dead bodies.

Ser Oswell followed him then the other men on the vanguard. Getting off from his horse, he gave the reign to Lucas Blackhood as he stared face to face with the faces of the wildling men who died in the hands of the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Other men followed him, some of them even daring to go inside the village itself.

"Search for survivors, search for the dead!" called out Ser Oswell, "search for any living damn thing inside this village!"

The men quickly obliged, with swords on hand, they quickly entered the village. Jonothor followed them too and once inside the village proper, he saw that it only consist of four tumbledown one room houses which surrounded a sheepfold and a well. Checking the houses closely, the Prince of Dragonstone saw that its made up of unmortared stones and are roofed with sods and the windows are made of pieces of hide.

Looking at the low doors of the houses, the packed dirt floors and a smoke hole roof, Jonothor wondered how the wildlings endured the cold weather of the North.

But the most interesting thing that unique to the village is the enormous weirwood tree on its midst, the trunk is almost eight feet wide, the branches spreading so far that the village is shaded beneath its canopy. Jonothor saw his companions Eddard and Lucas standing in front of its carved face, the former seems to be praying while the latter is consumed with hidden thoughts on the disturbing sight of the carved face.

Jonothor made his way towards his two companions, standing beside Lucas and being taken off guard by the sight of the mouth of the weirwood tree; it was a jagged hollow, large enough to swallow a sheep and inside the mouth, Jonothor can see burned bones that he guessed must be human bones. He heard someone approaching and when he side glance at the man, he saw that it was Ser Gerold Hightower.

"This village is called Whitetree, because of this weirwood tree," explained the knight, "some of my brothers used to stay in this village in exchange of food, that's maybe the reason Mance Rayder targeted this place, because the people living here sympathize with the Nights Watch and he doesn't want that."

"Lady Cersei Baratheon is always a welcome site on my father's court even though her husband, Lord Robert almost killed His Grace, why would a false king like him kill his own people just because they sheltered a brother of the Nights Watch? Their stay is not even free," said Jon, shaking his head in dismay.

"King Rhaegar is the King of all Seven Kingdoms, Your Highness, your fathers banner men are the great and might houses from all the regions of the realm, it's entirely different from the savage folk that's under the rule of Mance," countered the knight, "and once you ascend the Iron Throne, don't be so quick to trust the Baratheon's and the Lannister's as well as the Martell's, unless you have bound them in marriage."

Jon nodded at the knights advice but then their conversation was cut short when one of the men who searched for the bodies of the villagers walked up to them, telling Jon that they have found the burial site.

"It's in the far back of the Whitetree, Your Highness," said the man, "and it seems like most of the women and all the children have been taken away."

Jonothor asked the man to lead them on the location and once there, the Prince of Dragonstone saw that Ser Oswell was already inspecting the burial.

"This was a freshly dig mound Your Highness," said the Kingsguard knight, "I daresay it's been only a day since those scums dug up this."

Jonothor looked at the mound, feeling a dread of not been able to do anything to save anyone.

'If only I did not delay,' he said to himself, 'maybe I could have saved one of them.'

"We'll offer the dead our prayers," he announced to the crowd of men that's now surrounding him, "then we'll make camp for tonight here in the village and wait for the return of my uncle Benjen to hear his report."

Everyone obliged and everyone of them mumbled a simple prayer then after that, Jon raised his own tent and his men build fires to warm them for the coming cold. When the night falls, a watcher reported to him that Ser Arthur Dayne have camped his men a few kilometers away around the perimeter of the village while Cley Cerwyn's small troop already made a fire somewhere in a hill that overlooks the village.

"How about my uncle Benjen?" he asked the servant.

"There is no sight of him yet, Your Highness," said the watcher who's kneeling on the carpeted floor.

"You are dismissed," he told the watcher then with one last bow, the servant left.

The task of drinking with his men and getting to know them soon took over Jon's nature, they are more at ease now because Whitetree has its own perimeters, they are protected but that's what they thought.

When everyone fell asleep, somewhere deep on the freshly dig mounds, movements appeared. In the midst of the cold, a number of trained wildlings have resurfaced from their hiding place, using the dead bodies as a cover on the earlier inspection of Jonothor's men. The wildlings are led by Harma the Dogshead, her brother Halleck, Jarl, Ygritte and the Lord of Bones called the Rattleshirt.

With half the number of Prince Jonothor's men that's currently inside the village, the wildlings only advantage is the element of surprise.

Jonothor was dreaming he's a direwolf again back on his tent on that hour, he dreams that he's running, he can sense that he is being followed, followed by the cold but then soon enough, the Crown Prince woke up from his makeshift bed inside his tent when the fighting began outside. Ser Oswell Whent quickly made his way towards him, the face of the knight was hooded by the shadow of his distinctive helmet emblazoned with the black bat with its wings spread of his house.

"Wildlings," said the knight, "come on, let's show these dogs how the southerners fight."

Jonothor nodded, fetching his own armor and his sword as fast as he could, then he joined the fray with Ser Oswell behind him. By the time Jon saw what's happening, the lookouts of his camp have been already killed, their throats slashed, their own blood drowning them.

He soon found himself battling one wildling to the next and for a moment, he forgot the cold of the night and the noise of men dying and fighting was the only sound that he can hear. The wildlings seems to be coming out from all the mounds around the village and Jonothor thought that he's so stupid for not checking whats under the burial site.

'Who would have thought that wildlings can think of something clever like that?' he said to himself as he drove his sword to the chest of a wildling man.

'Or was it woman?' he asked himself as he catch his breath then he lifted his sword to protect him from something in the air that was aimed on his head. He lost the grip of his longer sword because of the impact and he learned later on that it was actually a spear that was thrown towards him and that its sharp end was redirection downward when he tried to counter it, wounding the skin on his the brow of his left eye down to his cheek.

"AHHH!" he cried out as the blinding pain took him.

He was afraid that his left eyes was damaged so he kept it shut, only using his right one to look for the approaching wildling that Jon thought to be fierce and dark.

"Jon!" called out Eddard Karstark as he came running to intercept the attacker.

To Jon's horror, he realized that the wildling is quick footed and Eddard is slower. He tried to warn his friend but it was too late, he died only seconds after his attempted rescue of him when the wildling cut the Karstark with an ugly sword.

The Crown Prince then became aware that Eddard must not be the only one that had fallen so he looked around him to find that they are now at disadvantage. He can still see Ser Oswell fighting off with a small man with armors made of bones, then Ser Gerold Hightower, wounded by an arrow on his hip and Lucas Blackhood who's also fighting two wildlings on his own.

"Don't kill him Jarl," Jon heard a command and he realized that the savage wildling who killed Eddard must be him.

"If I can help it," answered Jarl with a cruel smirk.

By this time, the Targaryen blood on Jonothor's veins started boiling then one eyed, he reach for his bastard sword and faced off with the wildling.

The two of them circled each other and no one dared to interrupt them and it was Jon who made the first attack. He slashed towards Jarl in which the wildling evaded as quickly, running to the prince's blindside and punching him in the face.

Jonothor landed on the dirt, spitting blood from his mouth but he quickly found his feet and he's facing his enemy again. This time, he is handling his sword with a two hand grip then with a battle cry, he charged towards the smirking wildling.

Jarl was caught off guard by his ferocious attacks that when the wildling raised his own sword for the third time to try to intercept Jon's two handed grip with his bastard sword, the smirk on his face faltered. They exchanged more blows and knowing that he has a blindside; Jon kept his opponent on the side of his good eye.

They both lose their swords at some point when they both fell on the ground, but that didn't stopped them from wrestling each other as they fought for survival. Jonothor was punched a few times before he finally got the upper hand, punching Jarl with brute strength and when he got the chance, unsheathing his valyrian dagger and driving it on the heart of the wildling, killing him instantly.

Jonothor was panting after that and when he fell to the ground, he saw that he killed Jarl in front of the weirwood tree, its face seems to be judging him for his crime.

'He killed my friend Eddard,' his thoughts were defiant, 'and he almost killed me. That's what he deserved.'

"Bind him, we need to take him to Mance at all cost," Jon realized that he's not alone with the corpse of his fallen foe anymore so he quickly bolted upright, reaching for a sword to find none as three hairy wildlings warily approach him.

"Jon!" cried out Ser Oswell as the knight charged towards him.

The Whent knight became the distraction to the wildlings who was about to take him so that Lucas Blackhood, Ser Gerold and a few other men can save him. They took him somewhere safe, helping him to sit down on the dirt.

"Your eye," he heard Lucas Blackhood, "someone give me water!"

Soon enough Jon was relieved to know that his eye was not damage at all when the wound was finally cleaned.

"Where are the others?" he asked no one in particular, "my men with Ser Arthur Dayne, where are they?"

"They are seems to be engaged with their own battle," answered Lucas Blackhood, "we're on our own for now."

"I think you need to leave Your Highness," suggested Ser Gerold, "you are the heir of the Iron--"

"I'm not going to leave my men," answered Jon fiercely as he stand up, "my child can take my place and I also have a brother, I'll die here if that's what the gods wants."

"Don't be stubborn now Your Highness," countered Ser Gerold, "we can take it from--"

"I am not being stubborn Ser," Jonothor's voice was sharper than he intended, "I'm doing my duty to my men," he paused, "someone, give me a sword."

All of them offered their own sword but Jon took the broadsword of a tall soldier.

"I'll return this after the battle," he told the man.

"It's yours now, Your Highness," answered the soldier who Jon recalled to be one of the men from the south, born in Kings Landing and have a family waiting for him in the city.

As they are preparing to join the fight once again, all of them seems to feel a cold that cuts like a knife.

"So cold," murmured one of the soldiers who rescued him.

When all of a sudden the sound of horn being blown was heard all around them and it seems like the fighting stopped, especially the wildlings because that means Brothers of the Nightwatch approaching but when the second horn was blown, Jonothor's men became anxious because that means wildlings are approaching but then what they didn't expected was when a third horn was blown.

"What's the meaning for the third horn?" asked Lucas, as all of the men literally stopped fighting with each other and Jon noticed the confused looked in everyone's faces.

"The Others," murmured Ser Gerold then out from nowhere, men under the command of Ser Arthur Dayne arrived, running for their lives.

"Run! Run! The dead men are coming!"

When all of a sudden, a huge ice giant spider jumped on the battleground and the creature riding it made Jon's knees buckle with fear.

"Is that ---?" he stopped himself when a screeching sound was heard and all men; wildlings, brothers of the Nights Watch and his own soldiers covered their ears as their nightmare suddenly came to reality.

Everyone started running, especially the wildlings but Jon remained frozen on his feet and as he saw men being slaughtered by the Other, the fire inside him yelled 'charge!'

"CHARGE!" he cried out.

And charge his men did, following their commander's instruction but Jon wished later on that he should have commanded to run for their lives earlier for most of the men that came with him were slaughtered in front of his eyes.

He saw Lucas Blackhood being taken down by a group of wights and when he faced the Other itself, the broad sword of the soldier broke into a thousand pieces when it clashed with the icelike sword of the nightmare of everyone's dream.

He was waiting to die then as the Other looked down on him, his sword hand raised, ready to slash but his men tried to save him but all of them failed, including Ser Oswell Whent who came charging towards the mythical creature.

"NO!" cried out Jon, his face horrified when the Other, with its blue eyes, drove its sword on the chest of the Whent knight, piercing his armor like a cheese.

Ser Oswell gave a grunt then he looked at Jon one last time before falling down.

"This is not happening," he said to himself as fear cuts through him.

Everyone around him, men are dying and soon enough, he realized that he's going to join them to the grave.

Out of nowhere, a white blur came charging towards the ice spider where the Other is using as some kind of a horse, making the creature fall on the ground while the two animals fought for survival. Jon saw that it was the white direwolf he saw on his way to the Wall and seeing that the Other's back is turned against him, he quickly took the opportunity to unsheathe the valyrian dagger from his back and drove it at the back of Other and to his surprise, the sword did not shattered, instead, it pierced the icelike skin of the mythical creature then the Other gave a wild cry as it began to shatter like a thousand broken glaciers and he was gone.

Seeing the dead and dying all around him, Jon felt hopeless as he fell on his knees. He saw that more of the enemy are coming and there are a few more of the blue eyed Others riding their ice spiders.

'Father,' he thought sadly, suddenly remembering the king as sorrow engulfed him and from the night sky above, he saw a red comet suddenly appearing, it has a long tail and it outshines the moon. It was burning red, beautiful and horrifying at the same time and Jonothor thought that it must signal a death.

'My death,' he said to himself but then as a wight came running towards him, grunting and whinning, its bony fingers raised and gripping a short sword, a white knight suddenly appeared.

"Jonothor, dock!" came the voice of the Lord Commander and Jonothor obliged. Soon enough, he heard bodies thudding on the muddy ground and he saw that it was the body of the wight, sliced in two by Ser Arthur Dayne's sword, the Dawn, "come on Your Highness, stand up!"

Jon have never seen the Lord Commander like this before and he was surprised when Daryn Hornhood came behind the Lord Commander, he thought that all of them have died already.

"What happened Jon? You look like you have seen a ghost," asked Daryn and hearing the word ghost, Jon looked around him, searching for the white direwolf only to find the carcass of the dead ice spider.

'Where is he?'

"Retreat! Retreat!" came the voice of Ser Arthur Dayne, "don't wander off alone, don't wander off alone!"

And then the surviving soldiers abandoned their post, running for their lives as Jon, Daryn, Ser Arthur and a few others jumped over the wooden fences of the village, their way towards the forest.

"We need to double back," said Ser Arthur, "the path we used to go here have been overflowed by those creatures, we need to find another way."

But it was not only the road that's been taken by the dead, even the surrounding forest!

'They are everywhere,' thought Jon as wights charged ahead.

"We'll hold the rear," said Daryn Hornhood as he unsheathe his sword, "Lord Commander, Jon, go and escape."

Jonothor wanted to protest but the men didn't, they are willing to risk their life for him.

"Follow us as soon as you can," he heard himself say in which his friend smiled.

"I will," he said then for a brief seconds, they fought the wights and when Ser Arthur Dayne saw an opening for escape, he pulled Jon towards it.

"Come on," said the knight and they leave the battle behind them. Jon gave Daryn one last glance and he saw the Hornhood heir fighting off a wight and that was the last time he saw him as they were soon engulfed with the darkness of the forest until all the sound vanished.

It was dark and Jonothor let Ser Arthur Dayne to lead the way because it was easier to follow his white armor and they continued running although soon enough, they can hear footsteps following them. Jon glanced behind him, to see fires following them.

"I can see fires Ser," he said as they continued running, "maybe its Daryn and the others."

"Maybe," answered the knight, "but let's not risk it."

Soon enough, Jon saw that the fires disappeared and that something in the air is wrong. He looked up at the sky to see the glimpses of the red comet, hiding every now and then to the canopy of the trees then to his horror, he heard the familiar cackling sound of the Other.

"We're being followed," Jonothor said as the sound was followed by the dozen of running footsteps behind them. They left the forest behind and came to a cliff with an unseen opening at the top, the cascading frozen river is on their left while the looming trees are on their right. Upon reaching the foot of the cliff, a voice was heard.

"Here, take the rope or die," said a girls voice and then a rope made up of vine was thrown to them.

Jonothor and the Lord Commander exchanged glances.

"What should we do?" he asked the knight, "we can swim in the river--"

"No," interrupted the knight, "the cold will kill us both, not at this hour."

"So we should take the rope?" wondered Jon, looking at the vine.

"You must take the rope," clarified the knight, then the wights finally came out from the forest, "here Jon," then he sheathed his sword Dawn and gave it to the Dragon Prince.

"Ser--"

"Use this, Dawn can cut the White Walkers too," said the knight, "lead the Seven Kingdoms against this great foe in the coming battle of the dawn and afterwards, return it to my family, in Starfall," Jon couldn't say anything, he couldn't even move, "go now Jon, GO!"

The Lord Commander pushed him to the rope then shouted to whoever was on the opening above the cliff to pull it.

"Tell Rhaegar it was an honor serving him," said the knight then he turned his back against Jon as his right grip on the vine tighten, on his left, he's holding the sword of the Lord Commander.

He saw how Ser Arthur Dayne draw his other sword, and fought the oncoming wights with ferocity and grace and unbeknownst to Jon, tears have started falling from his eyes. It was as if a part of him, the child inside him that always looked up to the Lord Commander have died as the wights overwhelmed the knight.

"I'm sorry," he said as the rope he's holding onto was pulled higher and higher and soon enough, he reach a level ground and hands pulled him away from the long fall.

When a fire was lighted, he finally saw his rescuers.

"Come now Dragon Prince," said a small woman, the light from the fire on the torch seems to be drowning on her sun kissed hair, "the dead does not rest and the King-Beyond-the-Wall is waiting for you."

Chapter 15: Daenerys III

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

She dreamed of a magnificent white castle that overlooks a deep swift river that has a wicked and treacherous currents and above the highest towers of the shimmering castle, dragons were flying, the most magnificent sight of them all. On the balcony of the tallest tower, she can see a king that looks like his brother Rhaegar, but he is younger, much younger and the eyes of the young king has a familiarity with her.

'Who are you?' she asked the young king, his long silver hair braided and his proud valyrian look was as magnificent as the dragons flying above the white castle.

'You don't remember?' he asked as a direwolf with grey fur and dark golden eyes approach him, 'she doesn't remember me,' said the young king as if talking to the direwolf, 'I am---'

In the end she always has to wake up and for hours she would think about her dream again and again. The river, the white castle, the dragons, the young king and even the direwolf, it's as if the answer have always been there but Dany couldn't grasp it.

After pondering about her dream, she would go to her window and admire the view of the ocean as the light of the morning sun illuminates from the east and she knows that on the far side of the Narrow Sea, her home land awaits.

'But I can't go back there,' she said, 'I don't want to go back.'

But the memory of her family always bring tears on her eyes; of her mother Queen Rhaella, of her good sister Queen Lyanna, of her brother King Rhaegar, her little nephew Prince Daeron, even her missing brother Viserys and Jonothor most of all.

'I miss him very much,' she said to herself as she felt tears swelling on her eyes.

She misses his laugh, his voice, his warmth, his touch, his smell, his taste and his kisses. She would go back to her bed thinking about Jon but in the end, she knows they cannot be. Margaery is pregnant and carrying his first child.

'And House Tyrell is one of the most powerful houses in the Seven Kingdoms and one of the most strongest supporter of his brother King Rhaegar,' she thought bitterly, 'I cannot very much take that away only because I love Jon, that would be selfish. Jonothor will become king and Margaery will be his queen and they will rule the Seven Kingdoms together.'

There was a knock on the door and Daenerys was pretty sure that it was one of the serving girl of Illyrio Mopatis, the lord of cheese, who openly accepted her arrival from White Harbor.

"I have always been a good friend to your brother, Princess," welcomed the magister on the day of her arrival in Pentos, "the Targaryen's were always welcome here in my humble home."

And the lord of cheese indeed made her feel welcomed, he brought Daenerys gifts of different kinds, lavished her with foods and parties in her honor and introduced her around the city.

But her past came back to haunt her only days after her arrival. News of Jon crowning Margaery as Queen of Love and Beauty arrived first, then his marriage to the Tyrell lady came next and Daenerys almost breaks down from the news.

She was not able to eat for days and the news of the poisoning at mermans court struck her with confusion as well because it resulted to the death of Domeric Bolton, Queen Lyanna's childhood friend.

"It was a blessing that Ser Arthur Dayne was there, Your Highness," said Illyrio when he himself delivered her the news, "if not, you'll be mourning for your brothers death as well."

She prayed to gods that night, thanking them for protecting her brother Rhaegar.

"May he rule longer than every Targaryen king in history," she prayed silently, "let him be still alive when I return to his kingdom."

The next day, she was eating a slice of fruit in the garden of Illyrio's manse that overlooks some part of Pentos, when she saw where she is sitting that there seems to be an unrest on the citizens of the city below.

'I have never seen them like this,' she said to herself as she saw eunuch soldiers running up and down on the hill, captains shouting out commands and the women of the city taking their children inside their houses, 'what is happening?'

She made her way inside the manse and went to the nearest servant that she saw. The servant was Illyrio's steward named Arion.

"Arion, why there's seems to be an unrest in the city?" she asked him, "what is happening? Where is Illyrio?"

"Princess, a dothraki horde is approaching," answered the steward, "the Khal of the khalasar has forty thousand strong riders but you do not need to worry about anything, the Magisters of Pentos have strike a bargain with the savage horde, they are not going to invade, they're just going to visit us."

"Visit? With the forty thousand dothraki screamers?" asked Daenerys, her voice almost terrified.

The Dothraki nomads were a fearsome figure in the Seven Kingdoms, famous even. Daenerys knows that a dothraki is a savage human being, who acts more like an animal than a person and knows nothing but to kill and fuck. She shudders at the thought of seeing one.

"As I've said Your Highness, you don't have to worry about anything, Master Illyrio will host a feast for the Khal's name on his manse that seats on the Bay of Pentos, they come as friends, not enemy," answered the steward.

"What is the Khal's name?" she asked the servant.

"Ah, the name of him is Khal Drogo, a fearsome warrior, undefeated in the field and not married," said the steward, "do you still have any questions, Princess? I'm going to pick up Master Illyrio's orders now."

"Oh sorry, go," said Dany hastily, her thoughts lost about the dothraki, "I'm sorry for bothering you."

The steward gave her a bow then left.

Curious about the visitors of the city, Daenerys decided to see the horde of Dothraki for herself. So she quickly made her way towards her room, changed into a new gown and borrowed a servants shawl to cover her head to give her more freedom. She slipped past the guards of the manse then down to the city streets below. She made her way near the bay of the city and she saw that the security of Pentos was tightened and there were less people in the street but nonetheless, a crowd still assembled to see the approaching horde from the gate of the Pentos.

Daenerys found herself standing beside a little boy who's holding a ball made from animal skin and she was briefly reminded by her nephew, Daeron.

"What is your name?" he asked the boy who seems to be a commoner.

"Osar m'lady," answered the boy.

"How old--" but her voice was drowned by the sound of war trumpets and for a moment, Daenerys felt scared, thinking that the dothraki screamers were all traitors and that they choose to invade the city instead but her fears was put to rest when she saw that the people of the city are still standing still, there's seems to be no cause for panic so that relieved the princess.

At the entrance of one of the gates of Pentos, Daenerys finally saw the dothraki riders and the stories about them were not false at all.

As they approach, passing through the street, between the crowds of citizens of the city that started murmuring as the horses continue to pour inside the city, Daenerys saw that they are large people with copper-toned skin, with long black raven hair and dark almond eyes.

Most of them are wearing painted vests made in leather over bare chest, horsehair leggings cinched with belts of bronze medallion and open tied riding sandals that laced up onto the knees.

Daenerys heard that dothraki warriors do not wear armors, they considered those who wear them cravens and often fight in the field bare-chested.

But among the unique characteristic of the riders of the khalasar, are there braided top-knots. Dany learned from her lessons with the Grand Maester that once a dothraki was defeated in a battle, they must cut their braids as a sign of defeat and those who win in battle will mark their victory by putting tiny bells in their braids and it was all that Princess Daenerys could hear besides the whining and snorting of their horses, the tiny bells that rang every time they move.

Halfway through the parade, someone behind the princess passed through making her stepped forward when the man pushed through, on the other hand, the boy named Osar lost his grip on his ball when the man came through and he boy foolishly run ahead, trying to pick up the ball, saving it by being trampled by the horses of the horde.

"My ball!" cried out Osar as he leave the safety of the line of the crowd.

"No! Stay Osar!" yelled Daenerys, her own feet following the poor boy.

Taking hold of the boy and looking horrified as she saw the horses foot coming their way, Daenerys could only close her eyes and when the impact happened, she cried out in pain as two or three times she was run over by the animal then it stopped.

Feeling the pain all around her body, she opened her eyes and was glad to see that Osar was unharmed and that he has finally taken his ball amidst the interrupted parade of the khalasar. Daenerys realized that they all stopped for her sake and that a rider unmounted his horse, walking towards them with a snarl, a whip on his hand.

Daenerys didn't understand a word, all she heard was the crack of the leather whip and its tail licking the side of her face. Daenerys fell on the road, she is now more aware of the heat of the afternoon sun and the pain caused by her impact against the horse earlier. She was horrified when she saw that the rider was still snarling, still on his attacking position.

"Are you ok m'lady?" asked Osar as for a second time the rider raised his hand, the whip in the air but all of a sudden someone stopped him.

"Stop," came a voice with a barbarous accent.

The attack died in that instant and Daenerys saw that the owner of the voice seems to command respect and authority even among the fearsome dothraki riders.

"Osar!" came a voice of a woman, calling from the crowd, her face as horrified as Daenerys, "come here!"

The boy was reluctant to leave Dany but when she gave him the leave to go, he quickly run towards his mother leaving Daenerys in the middle of the heated road, with all the people of the city watching her and the muscular tall man. He has a long drooping moustache and the longest braid Dany has ever seen yet among his people, that runs down to his thighs.

The copper-skinned man gracefully made his way towards her, his gaze intent and it did something inside Daenerys core, something she only felt around Jonothor.

"Hurt?" asked the giant man.

She remained on the ground, afraid that her legs will betray her when she stand up so to match her gaze, the dothraki went to one knee.

She nodded her head to the question then the dothraki gently touch the part of her face that was been lashed by the whip earlier. Daenerys flinch, expecting the pain.

"Come," said the dothraki, his voice seems to be grumbling like a thunder in Daenerys ears and when she looked at him, she saw the gentleness on his eyes, "come," he repeated again, slower this time, as if telling Daenerys he's not going to cause her danger, that he's a friend.

He helped Daenerys to stand up and she felt the calloused hand of the dothraki, it was big and rough but he held her hand like a fragile glass. The princess was not aware that all of the crowd is watching their pair, even the dothraki horde. He led her beside a milky white horse that's waiting beside a lean red stallion, that has a wild beauty about him like his owner.

"Ride," said the dothraki who helped her then she gasped when he suddenly lifted her up in the air and onto the back of the white horse. There was no cover on the horse, only its reins and Daenerys almost forgot that Dothraki rides their beast raw and she suddenly felt nervous as three equally savage men approach the one who helped her.

She did not understood what they are saying, but one of the three men was pointing at her with a snarl but she did get the words 'khal' and she wonders who could be the khal.

Their arguments seems to dissuade the dothraki who helped her because with a grunted words, the three dothraki men turned silent, then his rescuer eyed her, an intent look that sent shivers on her bare skin then the dothraki mounted the red stallion, the khalasar soon continued their way towards Khal Drogo's manse, the animal that Daenerys riding seems to be intelligent enough because it's following the red stallion politely.

And all of a sudden as they neared the gate of the savage lord, only a few riders were allowed to enter lest they'll overcrowd the whole compound.

Daenerys thought for a moment that she's not going to be allowed inside but then she was not even stopped, when her horse obediently followed the red stallion that being ridden by her rescuer. It was an ascending path and the high brick walls are covered with pale ivy plant and Daenerys was thankful for the shade that protects her from the heat of the afternoon sun.

When they reach the courtyard of the manse, it was pillared overgrown with ivy plant that can also be seen on its high brick walls. Her horse stopped when the stallion in front of them halted, whining and snorting as its owner pulled his reins.

After that, her rescuer helped her to get down on her horse, then he carried her inside the manse in bridal style. Once inside, a number of servants led the way to a room that overlooks a garden outside. There, the muscular dothraki rider set her down gently on the bed.

"Stay," he said, the accent in his voice amusing Daenerys and when she smiled, the man frowned, "why?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head then she finally removed the shawl that still covers her head.

She noticed that the dothraki rider gave her an even more intent look if that was even possible, it was like he was looking to a precious stone and Daenerys match his gaze, unaware that the dothraki rider is admiring her beauty.

The two of them didn't back down, Daenerys remembered her lessons not to shy away from the gaze of powerful men. High lords of the Seven Kingdoms have tried to intimidate her but she is a Targaryen and they only bow down to their dragons and not to any other lesser creatures.

The dothraki smiled then and Dany can see that he was satisfied, of the reason, only the gods know but his eyes gave her the look of desire and that was only the time she forced herself to look away because she saw the evident bulge on his riding clothes.

'Why do I feel like a virgin girl again?' she asked herself and she was glad when the man finally left her and his servants soon mended all her hurts.

"Who was that?" she asked one of the servant who seems to be a native of Pentos.

The servant gave her a confused look before responding to her question.

"M'lady," she said, her voice almost incredulous, "that was the Khal."

Daenerys knows that it was unladylike but her mouth was left gaping from the information that the servant have given.

'That is why he's commanding respect and authority,' she realized then.

"I was not aware," she blurted out.

The Pentoshi servant eyed the other dothraki woman in the room before turning to look back at her.

"M'lady," she said, "the Khal wants you," then she paused, standing up after cleaning her face and hands, "and the Khal always gets what he wants."

Her next visitor after an hour or so was someone Dany already expected. It was Illyrio, panting because it looks like he's been running. He commanded all the servants to leave the two of them and once they were alone, the magister finally sat beside her.

"Are you ok Your Highness?" he asked her, eyeing the bruise on her face.

"I am fine," Dany replied, "was it true that the man who rescued me was the Khal?"

The magister nodded.

"And he wants you," added the fat lord of cheese.

"He wants me?" Daenerys pretended to be innocent, all the while, she already knew that the Khal wanted her when she saw the tightening on his pants before leaving her earlier.

"He wants you," repeated Illyrio, "but Khal Drogo abides the tradition of his people and he's not going to bed you yet until your wedding."

"Wedding?" this time, Daenerys moved away from the magister, "I'm not going to marry anyone," she declared.

"I know but the Khal insist it," answered Illyrio, "when I countered that you are a sister of the king, he pointed out that he's a khal of the khalasar and when I said that you are not a servant to be taken, he argued that he's going to court you," the magister shook his head, "he's going to court you, Your Highness, like a real nobleman."

Daenerys couldn't speak, she couldn't even move.

"I know you don't like him and you don't plan on marrying him but Princess Daenerys, it's unwise to reject his courtship," said the magister, "reject him and all of Pentos will suffer, the magisters of the city have tasked me to persuade you to at least give the khal a chance so that he might not be wroth."

Daenerys thought about the offer and if she refused, she'll know that the city will suffer and the face of Osar, the boy she saved earlier came to her mind.

'I'll at least give him a chance,' she said to herself.

"Well when will the courting start?" she asked the magister.

The tension in the magister's face relaxed after her declaration.

"Tonight," he answered, "at the feast."

For the feast, Daenerys changed into a more proper gown, given by the magisters of the city as a gift, a blood red gown made of the finest satin and when she was finally seated on the tables that was arranged on the manse courtyard, she saw that she's seated opposite to the Khal, who's eyes never left hers.

Magisters and nobleman of the city sat beside her and they said their thanks to her, for complying with their wishes but all the while, Dany can see that the eyes of the Khal were only turned towards her. She waited for him to move, expecting he'll invite her to a dance like what a nobleman from Westeros would do, but he didn't, Khal Drogo stayed on his seat with his Blood Riders, three of which Dany saw were the ones who argued with the khal when he rescued her down on the streets of Pentos.

Dany flashed the khal looks and she saw that while drinking, the khal's eyes still remained on her, making her blush like a maiden girl and she felt her cheeks turning red. Towards the end of the night, Magister Illyrio was called by the Khal and when the lord of cheese returned, he whispered to Daenerys that the khal wants to ride with her, outside the walls of the manse.

"He's not going to take advantage of you Princess," reassured Illyrio when he saw her reluctance, "he just wants the two of you to spend time together."

She agreed then, feeling that she has no choice and wondered what would his nephew, Jonothor would think if he saw her riding with a fearsome dothraki.

'He'll probably laugh,' she said to herself as she returned on the room she stayed in inside the manse of the khal, to change her gown to riding clothes and covering herself with a robe to protect herself from the cold. Outside, the merriment of the feast continued but Khal Drogo was waiting for her not on his seat, but on the arched gates.

"Ride," he said, the accent on his voice making Daenerys smile, she was glad that it was dark so that the grin tugging on her lips was hidden from the prying eyes of the khal.

Khal Drogo helped her to ride the milky white horse that she previously ridden then mounting his own red stallion. The dothraki said something on his horse and the intelligent animal suddenly moved. Her own horse followed the stallion and she and the khal are now riding side by side, descending on the slopes of the manse.

He didn't talk but she didn't mind it, she's enjoying the night ride and once they were finally outside the walls, where there's a field for her horse to finally trot and run to, she surprised the khal when she suddenly speed up ahead, laughing all the while.

"Faster!" she called out to her own horse, forgetting that there was no stirrup or girdle to hold onto but the reins.

Daenerys felt the freedom as she galloped down the open field of the city, then glancing behind her, she saw that the khal is following closely behind, a rare smile on his lips. She led her horse to the beach and there, she raced with the Khal who she knows was holding back to let her win.

Her laughter filled her ears, she forgot how long its been since the last time she enjoyed riding. An hour later, she finally felt the irritation on the side of her legs caused by the friction of riding the horse with no coveralls.

She stopped then and Khal Drogo was fast enough to stop too and dismount his own horse and helped her to get down.

"Hurt?" he asked, his face worried.

She nodded then he led her to a log that was been washed up from the sea before tying the two horses to a nearby tree. When the Khal rejoined her on her seat, Dany suddenly felt nervous and when she looked up to the dothraki horselord, she saw that he's already gazing back at her.

She turned away, a thought of Jon suddenly springing on her mind, taking a labored breathing, trying to calm herself before she do something that she'll regret later but it was not the case for the khal, for he gently took her chin on his rough and calloused hand, making her gaze up to him.

He spoked in dothraki and Daenerys couldn't understand a thing but when he leaned his lips closer to hers, she finally get it that the khal wanted to kiss her. And kiss they did, it was sweet first, the khal testing the waters and she not backing down but when he paused, eyeing her with intent look, Daenerys knew what the Khal wanted.

She gazed up to the night sky then, at the edge of the world where she knows her true home is waiting.

"No ready?" came the rough voice of the khal.

She nodded with a tight smile.

"But I like kissing you," she confessed, even though she knows Khal Drogo couldn't understand her, "I like the way you taste."

She took the chance to kiss the bewildered horselord, pulling him closer to hers and she felt his strong arms wrapping around her. It was intense and they fought each other with teeth and tongue. Khal Drogo also kept on inhaling her scent and the next round of kisses turned even more intense.

His hands found its way on her exposed skin but it didn't go that far, at least for him because Daenerys hands groped the giant bulge on his trouser, making the khal grunt.

"Pretty," whimpered Khal Drogo as Daenerys rain down kisses on his neck, inhaling his spicy scent too, driving her core insane, "Yer zheanae sekke."

"What? I don't understand," she said in which the khal only shook his head, then kissed her again.

Khal Drogo laid her gently on the grass, climbing on top of her, growling as he go but he didn't dare to advance any further, not at least without Dany's permission.

"No," she decided when Khal Drogo was about to remove his belt, "no."

The khal grumbled to himself; complaining roughly on his own language before settling to kiss her on the lips instead. Dany felt his frustration on the grip of his hands and the way he kissed her, making her grasp for air but Magister Illyrio have spoken truly. The khal did not take advantage of her. They stayed like that in the grass, Daenerys trying to teach him some of the basic words of the common tongue and him the dothraki language to her.

It was in the wee hours of the morning when Khal Drogo finally decided to bring her back to Illyrio's manse. They used the way at the back, Dany holding his hand then walking through the hallway and then finally to her room.

"Good night," she said then the khal leaned to kiss her.

"Night," he grumbled, unsure if the word he said was right but when Daenerys smiled at her, he smirked, and kissed her again, "night," he repeated.

Daenerys finally entered her room, leaving the khal outside the door.

For a few weeks, the courting of Khal Drogo towards Princess Daenerys continued. They spent most of the time riding together and kissing when she felt tired. The khal also gave her two dothraki women, so that she could learn their ways, their tradition and their language but Daenerys refused when the horselord asked her to live with her in his manse.

'That would be like confirming that I'm going to marry him,' she said to herself when the angry Khal Drogo left her after she rejected his offer but nonetheless, the courtship continued, the khal sent her gifts of all kinds and every night the horselord would visit her and they will go for a ride.

Everything changed when the news of the ascent of her brothers first born son, who was been legitimized by royal decree of her father, the late King Aerys whom the westerosi nicknamed as the mad king, arrived.

"Kings Landing has fallen, Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name now seats the Iron Throne as its king, all those will pledge their swords to the new king will retain their titles and honors but all of those who will oppose him shall be destroyed. Ser Willis Wode and Lord Sawane Botley have died on their futile struggle to kill Aegon with treachery but Ser Gerold of House Dayne put that folly to end when he beheaded the treasonous kingsguard and drove a spear to the insolent Ironborn lord's heart. We now hold the Dowager Queen Rhaella, Sansa and Arya Stark, all of the remaining members of the Small Council of King Rhaegar and Prince Daeron as hostages and more."

Read the Magister one day, shocking Daenerys about what happened.

"King Rhaegar is hereby commanded by King Aegon to return to the Capital at once, together with all the remaining Kingsguards, his queen consort, Queen Lyanna of House's Stark and Targaryen, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and his wife Lady Catelyn Stark, Lord Elbert Arryn of the Vale and his wife Lady Lysa Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully, Princess Margaery of House's Tyrell and Targaryen, her father Lord Mace Tyrell, her mother Lady Alerie Tyrell and her husband, Prince Jonothor Targaryen, if they fail this command, they shall be branded as enemy of the crown and suffer death."

"If something happens that'll displease the new King, all should know that we have hostages that shall suffer the consequences of their actions as well, Prince Daeron shall receive forty lashes if his father would make a move against the Iron Throne, every hour of every day and we also have two Stark girls, what will happen to them shall depend with your actions so choose carefully."

"Prince Oberyn of House Martell"

She wanted to go back then after hearing the news, afraid about the fate of her nephew Prince Daeron and her mother Queen Rhaella but the Magister stopped her.

"What do you think you can do against the armies of the mighty Tywin Lannister, the rebel lord Robert Baratheon and the machinations of Prince Doran?" asked the magister, "if you want to help your brother Rhagar, then you should have your own army behind you Princess," then the fat man paused, "and Khal Drogo has that."

'He was right,' realized Daenerys, 'if I return to the Seven Kingdoms, I must have forty thousand dothraki screamers at my back.'

"Well where is he?" she said, standing up from her seat.

The two of them are inside the magister's own reading room, the carpeted floor muting all the noise of her footsteps when she made her way on the window.

"Don't be too hasty Princess," said Illyrio calmly, "if you marry Khal Drogo, you will need to travel to Vaes Dothrak, the city of riders."

"But why?" she asked incredulous, "my brother needs me now."

"As I've had said, Khal Drogo is a very traditional man, you need to be presented to the dosh khaleens first and after that, then you can ask your husband to aid your brother in Westeros, it will be up to you to persuade him to leave his precious dothraki sea," answered the magister, confusing the Targaryen princess even more.

"Is there any other way?" asked Daenerys, her voice almost begging.

"There is," answered the magister and there was something on his voice that required Daenerys to look at the lord of cheese, "I'm going to summon him now, give us a week and he will be here, with an army to offer you."

She nodded and wondered who could be that man but in that short span of days, there was not only one group of people trying to win her support but two.

The first one was from the camp of her nephew King Aegon, led by the young king's own cousin, Prince Quentyn Martell along with him were men of importance from Dorne. Cletus Yronwood, one of the sons of Lord Anders Yronwood, the Warden of the Stoneway and the Lord of Yronwood, Ser Gerris Drinkwater, a knight from House Drinkwater, Ser William Wells, a knight from House Wells, Ser Archibal Yronwood, nephew of Cletus father and a maester called Kedry.

"We were sent by King Aegon to persuade you to join our cause," said the Martell prince when she received them at the hall of Illyrio Mopatis.

Dany consider the Martell prince solemn but not handsome. Prince Quentyn Martell is short-legged and stocky, with a plain face, brown hair and eyes and has stubble on his cheeks and Dany noticed that he doesn't smiled easily.

'He must be the one I'm to marry if I was sent to Dorne,' thought Daenerys, observing how pale the Martell prince in comparison to her dothraki khal, 'Khal Drogo will tear him to pieces, him and his dornish companions.'

"Why should I go with you," countered Dany, feeling the dragon blood boiling from her veins, "your king usurped my brothers throne, and have stolen it from his heir Jonothor, my own nephew, do you think I will join him, that false king?"

"If you go with us, the king promised that he will release one of the prisoners that we hold captive," answered Prince Quentyn calmly, who seems not affected by her outburts.

Daenerys was caught off guard to the proposition and the dornish company has seen that as well.

"You can release either your younger nephew Prince Daeron or your mother Queen Rhaella," said Ser Gerris Drinkwater, a comely man with a blond long hair.

"I will be a hostage then," she said, feeling angry all of a sudden by the unfair deal.

"Not a hostage," countered Cletus Yronwood, "but a guest, in Dorne where you will stay for the duration of the war, under the care of Prince Doran."

Daenerys turned to look at Illyrio, who she can clearly see was against it and Dany knows why.

'He has a plan of his own,' she said to herself then she looked at the men all around her, one by one realizing that if she choose one of them, she were and will never be free, that if she choose now, she'll become a player in the game of thrones.

'And if you play the game of thrones, you win or you die,' she said to herself.

"I need to think about it," she announced, making a curtsy and leaving them.

Her final decision was resolved when the second visitors arrived on the halls of Magister Illyrio. It was Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Davos Seaworth, trusted friends of his brother and Queen Lyanna who came seeking her to bring her back in Westeros.

The three of them met at the garden of Illyrio's manse, this time, she didn't allow anyone to hear their talk, it was just them three.

"Princess," it was Ser Davos who spoke first when she finally arrived at the meeting place, "we've all been so worried."

"Especially the king," added Ser Barristan, the two of them look so travel worn, "what do you think you're doing, leaving like that Princess?" then the old knight shook his head, his face disappointed, "you should know better than that."

It was like she's a child again, oftentimes Ser Barristan was the one guarding her at the Red Keep when she was younger but she's not a child anymore.

"I needed to leave," she countered and even though the knight is a lot taller than her, she matched his gaze, "because if I stayed I would have turned like my father."

Ser Barristan and Ser Davos exchanged a look then.

"You know for a fact that I love Jonothor," Daenerys seethe, "and forcing me to stay there while he and that Tyrell tart announce their love to the public was killing me," she paused, her eyes suddenly wild with tears, "if you think that it won't drive me insane, then you're a fool Ser."

The two knights were awestruck by her declarations.

"So you choose to stay here then?" asked Ser Davos, who recovered first, "stay here in Pentos while the Seven Kingdoms are at war?"

"I'm going to help my brother," she announced, "but I will have forty thousand dothraki screamers at my back when I do."

"Dothraki? How?" asked Ser Davos, clearly shaken by her words.

"I'm going to marry a khal, the fiercest khal who over lived," she answered, "I'm going to accept Khal Drogo's offer instead."

"So you're going to stay?" asked Ser Davos, "Princess, we cannot linger here, King Rhaegar will need us on his war."

"Go and help my brother then Ser," she answered the knight, "and I will help him in my own."

There was a silence until Ser Barristan, who remained so quiet earlier finally speaks.

"Ser Davos, ready the sail, I'll be with you in a moment," said the knight and they waited until Ser Davos finally left them before he continued, "I'm sorry Dany, I almost forgot that you're not a child anymore, it was wrong that I scolded you earlier," Dany saw that the knights blue eyes turned even sadder, "and I'm sorry that I did not consider your feelings about the issue of you leaving, I know you love Jon, you always have, but sometimes we can't always get what we want."

Daenerys suddenly remembered the story of Ser Barristan and his lady love, Lady Ashara Dayne.

"If this is your final decision, then we're going to leave now," said the knight, his voice still hoping that she's going to change her mind.

"This is my decision Ser," she said her eyes firm, "send my love to them and please save Daeron and my mother if you can, and protect the king, the queen and Jon."

"I will try Princess," answered the knight, his face solemn, "and remember that if you're going to wed a dothraki lord, they despise weakness, so you must always be strong."

"I will be," she said, now smiling at the knight, "when I get back in Westeros, I hope I will still see you, standing beside the king."

Daenerys doesn't know that she'll see the knight indeed, standing beside a king, but which one?

"I hope so too princess," then he kissed her hand, "we're going now, my king needs me in this time of war."

"Go now Ser, I don't want to delay you any further," she paused, "and tell my brother I love him and I'm going to help him, he just need to wait for me."

The knight nodded his head and with one last bow, he finally left.

Alone, Daenerys weighed the odds of the choices that she's about to make knowing that she would not be able to turn back once she decided to grab it.

"Tonight," she said to herself, her voice firm and decided.

She sent a servant to tell the khal to fetch her on the magister's manse tonight, preparing for what will happen, she took a scalding bath, perfumed her body and brushed her hair. She's not going to wear her usual riding clothes, instead, she decided to wear a simple gown.

When the evening comes and the khal finally arrived, she met him at the door and at first he was confused and amazed about her clothing but then when she told him she wants to ride, he didn't objected and instead complied.

The two of them are going to their usual spot at the beach and Daenerys saved herself some pain when she decided to ride the horse in a slow pace and all the while, Khal Drogo was looking at her.

It's only been weeks since we met, Daenerys realized, but I already learned the basics of his culture and all about his family and him the same.

They stopped at their private spot in the beach and this time, it was her who led the khal to the grass.

"Anha zhilak yera norethaan," (I love you completely), she lied to the Khal.

'Or was it not a lie anymore?' she asked herself as Khal Drogo smiled.

"Hash yer asti k'athijilari?" (Are you speaking truthfully?) asked the Khal.

"Yes," she answered then she climbed on top of him, "make love to me my great Khal," she whispered, then her hands travelled down to the Khal's bulge, "take me," she murmured and as she kiss the khal, she felt him smile then in one quick move, the horselord changed their position.

"Sek," (Yes,) he said, then he kissed her roughly and she match his excitement equally.

They fought for control but the khal always wins and with her permission, his hands now travelled at the hem of her gown, raising it up to her waist then removing her undergarments, "Sek," he said as she shudders when he touch the soft bud between her legs, "Sek," he said again as Daenerys closed her eyes, the sound of his golden belt being removed filling her ears then his lips returned to hers as she felt his manhood at the gates of her sex, "Sek," then the blinding pain of his entrance numbed her as she hold onto the Khal's muscular shoulder for dear life, and Khal Drogo drove further inside her core, driving them both insane as they made love in the passion of Dothraki, mating like animals in heat.

Notes:

I guess I need learn how to construct dothraki sentences now lol. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and I know some of you would wonder why Khal Drogo knows the common tongue because in the canon when he met Dany, I think the only word he knows was the word 'no' but in this au, he's a little literate about the common tongue of Westeros so now that I made that clear, I hope you'll pour your thoughts on the comment section about the chapter.

*PS. I missed writing Daenerys POV

Chapter 16: Sansa III

Notes:

I dedicate this chapter to my late grandfather. I miss you dearly and I'm still sad that I was not there beside you on your last breath. I love you so much :(

Alas, I finally finished this chapter and updated the story. It seems like ages ago since the last time I wrote something. Many things happened and I have work and all those stuffs that bothers a normal human being in a daily basis but I'm not going to make that as an excuse for my long absence on this site. Anyways I don't want to delay y'all any longer (if there are still readers out there) so please enjoy and don't forget to comment your thoughts about the chapter.

Chapter Text

"Lady Sansa," said Jory and she thought that her guard looks to be melting like an ice in the middle of a scorching heat of the day, "they've arrested my uncle."

"Ser Rodrik? Why? Did he killed someone? Has he been in a fight?" Sansa asked, her face alarmed from the sudden news.

"No," Jory, the captain of the Household guard of Winterfell shook his head and a dread have started to dawn on her as she saw the change of expression of her guard, even Septa Mordane and her friend Jeyne have the same look on their faces, "news from Kings Landing, it said that we have a new king," then the sound of soldiers closing in on them was heard and Sansa suddenly felt afraid, very afraid, "we have been betrayed by House Baratheon."

Sansa's world came crashing down at that moment, feeling weak and tired all of a sudden. When the guards arrived to take them, Jory attempted to draw his sword but seeing that's futile, Sansa stopped him.

"Lay down your weapon Jory," she said and she was relieved when her protector obliged, fearing that he wouldn't and bloodshed would take place.

"You will not be allowed to leave, Lady Sansa," said Renly, Lord Robert's youngest brother and Castellan of Storms End, as more guards came pouring in, surrounding the handsome younger Baratheon, "you will stay here with us and fulfill the promise of being Joffrey's wife."

"I'm not going to escape," she said, remembering the words of her mother, Lady Catelyn.

'Courtesy is a lady's armor.' I can do this, she said to herself, meeting Renly eye to eye.

"But please Ser, don't hurt any of my companions."

It worked, Sansa thought, as the tension on the faces of the household guards of Storms End were released, even Renly looked more relaxed.

"No one will be hurt," promised the younger Baratheon, "but your soldiers will need to surrender their weapons and they will be put to the dungeon of the castle."

Better than being hanged, thought Sansa then she nodded at him.

"They will surrender their weapons," she answered, "and they will come with you peacefully."

Jory looked at her and when she gave him a nod to go, he peacefully surrendered.

It has been months since then and Sansa's life in Storms End continued. Trying to act normal in front of the Baratheon family, especially with Myrcella whom she always accompany on her lessons and Joffrey, who even though remained as gentle and caring towards her, Sansa sensed the uneasiness from him by avoiding what's happening at the capital and the betrayal of his house to the Iron Throne. Words from the capital doesn't even mention her sister Arya and her cousin Daeron too which worries Sansa most that's why every night, she goes to the heart tree of the castle to pray to the Old Gods of the North to protect them.

"Myrcella will be sent away to Kings Landing soon," said Joffrey one time.

"Why?" Sansa asked, curious about the sudden news.

The two of them are walking at the courtyard of the castle by then, it was already twilight and outside the gates of Storms End, it seems like the whole Stormlands were camped, rallying behind the sigil of House Baratheon which is a black stag in a field of gold.

"She's promised to the new Targaryen King," answered Joffrey.

When Sansa turned to look at her betrothed, she saw that the last of the sunlight have made his golden hair almost yellow and his eyes are burning holes on hers. It was the first time that her betrothed mentioned something about the new king.

"So Mycella will be the queen someday then?" she said, more of a fact.

"Yes, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms," answered Joffrey, then he leaned closer and Sansa already knows what's gonna happen next.

Joffrey kissed her and it was the first time the two of them shared that intimate moment.

"I can't wait till we get married my lady," he said, leaning in so close that Sansa thought he might kiss her again, "you will be my queen someday, the queen of Storms End."

Sansa gave him a small smile then tears started leaking out from her eyes; the tears were the tension building up on her, the words left unsaid, her fears, her nightmares.

"I was afraid," she confessed holding on to Joffrey as if for dear life.

The Baratheon heir is a head taller than her with the Lannister look on his face and for a moment, Sansa thought that he's going to change, that he's just pretending that he doesn't know anything about the betrayal of his house but on that moment, she knew that he was telling the truth and right now in front of the yard, with all of the servants walking around and some of the lords and their sons training with their soldiers with the sword watching them but Sansa doesn't care, Joffrey didn't so why should she?

"You don't need to be afraid, my lady," he assured her, leaning in even more closer to her, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Sansa hold onto that words but promises are meant to be broken.

When Myrcella finally left for Kings Landing, Sansa never thought that the same will be instructed to her by the new king sitting on the Iron Throne. She thought that she will stay in Storms End for the duration of the war but she was wrong.

The news came after Lord Robert held a court on his Great Hall. There was a feast then, because the next day the soldiers of Stormlands would finally march to war, some would join the Lannister army who were camped on the Crownlands, some would join the Martell army to harass Lord Mace Tyrell's chivalry of the south on the southwestern part of the realm.

She was sitting beside Joffrey, who's sitting beside his father when the Maester of the castle came and whispered to Lord Baratheon. Sansa thought that whatever the news that the maester have delivered have struck a chord on the Storm lord because his face suddenly became serious.

Lord Robert stood then, inviting Joffrey, Sansa and Renly to the next chamber where they can have a more intimate talk.

Once inside the Lords office, Lord Robert made his way in front of the arched window of the chamber that overlooks one of the courtyards of the castle. It was his youngest brother that spoke first.

"What seems to be the problem brother?" asked Renly.

Sansa and Joffrey exchanged glances then and she thought that something awful must have happened; her sister Arya and cousin Daeron found dead, her brother Bran succumbing to his illness in Winterfell, her brother Robb, his cousins Harrold and Jon slain in battle, her aunt dying in childbed, it was an endless of dreadful possibilities.

"News from the capital," answered Lord Robert, still looking outside the window and Sansa thought that it must be Arya and Daeron, holding her breath, waiting for the tragic news.

'They are dead,' she said to herself, feeling the dread crawling on her skin.

"From the young Targaryen king," added Lord Baratheon, his voice silent.

This time, Lord Robert turned to look at Renly.

"Well what did he say? Our army will march tomorrow to fight his war, does he need anything more?" countered the younger Baratheon brother in an almost incredulous voice.

"Yes," answered Lord Robert, now turning to look at Sansa much to her surprise, "and it concerns Lady Stark."

Sansa kept her silence until she's allowed to speak.

"What did he say father?" asked Joffrey this time and Sansa felt his hands pulling her closer to his.

"He instructed to send Lady Stark to Kings Landing, to be a guest on his court," answered Lord Robert, looking at his heir.

Silence. Sansa dared not to speak, afraid that her voice might betray her true feelings.

'A hostage,' she thought dreadfully, 'a hostage by that cruel king!'

"Well that can't be helped," said Renly, breaking the tension building up by chuckling to himself.

Sansa thought that everything is a joke for the youngest Baratheon brother.

"It's not like history would repeat itself," added Renly, trying to humor his lord brother, "Joffrey is not any bit like you, King Aegon is not every bit of his father, and Lady Sansa is not like her aunt."

Sansa came to the sudden realization then that Lord Robert was afraid that his son and heir, would suffer the same fate as him when he was been deprived of his Stark betroth in the past, being stolen by the Targaryen king.

'It will never happen,' she decided, as she saw the tension on Lord Robert's face fades, the words of his brother clearly striking a chord on him, 'I have nothing but contempt and hate towards that false king.'

"Do you want to go? Tell me my lady," said Joffrey the next day before she entered the wheelhouse that have taken her to Storms End the first time.

Joffrey, along with a hand-picked guards were going to accompany her to Kings Landing but soon enough, they will also leave the city to rejoin Lord Baratheon at Riverlands.

"We don't have a choice Joff," she answered, "it was a kings command."

The Baratheon heir gave in to her argument and let her to finally enter the wheelhouse where her septa and her friend Jeyne are already waiting for her along with her gentle direwolf.

"What do you think will happen to us at Kings Landing?" asked Jeyne as the labored creaking of the wheels of the vehicle started rolling

"We will be hostages," she answered her friend.

"You will be a hostage, not us," corrected Septa Mordane, "you should be wary of your actions once we arrived at the capital, I heard that House Martell are actually ruling the city not the new king himself."

Sansa took the advice to her heart as they travelled to the capital and as days passed, it seems like a dread is dawning on her, as if it was the deep breath before the plunge as they got closer and closer to the city, passing hills, mountains, forested lands and streams.

A few days after their departure to Storms End, they finally reach Kings Landing and the only good thing that Sansa thought about her being a hostage of the Martell's is that she will be seeing Arya and Daeron soon.

Passing through the tourney grounds outside the city gates, Sansa knew too well that they are headed for the Kings Gate of the city. It was already twilight when they finally passed through the Kings Gate and they continued to river row, the area which will lead directly to Fishmonger's Square. The streets were crowded and Sansa can hear people talking about her arrival at the city, they thought that she's a daughter of a minor lord from Stormlands, not knowing that it was her, the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North and one of the queen's niece.

The streets were more crowded at the Fishmonger's Square, traffic delayed them more than once and the help of the City Guards were needed to clear the way then they finally continued with their ascent to Aegon's Hill. Sansa can see through her window that they will be going to the southern gate of the Red Keep, towards the Queen's Ballroom, a chamber where the queen can hold her own court. Sansa have been there many times and she knows that the Godswood of the castle is also located near that place.

'I should pray to the gods tonight,' she said to herself.

Soon enough, they finally reach the gate of the Red Keep and one of the Martell guards checked up inside the wheelhouse before they were finally allowed passage to the nearest courtyard. Once inside the courtyard, Joffrey, who's been riding his own chesnut destrier and sleeping on a meager tent in a few hours of rest all throughout their journey made his way towards the door of the wheelhouse, opening it and meeting Sansa and her companions.

"Do you feel tired, my lady?" asked the Baratheon heir.

"A little," admitted Sansa, "sleeping on a wheelhouse was not the most comfortable thing you know," she offered him a smile in which the blond boy returned.

"I know you're tired but you need to meet the king and his mother first before they let you go to your own chamber in the Maidenvault," said Joffrey suddenly looking apologetic, "its King Aegon's command."

"You don't need to explain to me Joff," answered Sansa as she saw from the side of her eyes that her Septa and her friend Jeyne and even her own direwolf Lady are now stretching their legs from the long hours of cramped space, "I am very much aware of giving courtesy to the royal families when you arrived at their castle."

Joffrey nodded and Sansa thought that he's going to say more but the Baratheon heir kept his silence.

"Well I'll be going to meet my uncles, my sister and my mother, I'll be joining you at the Queen's Ballroom shortly," said Joffrey, kissing Sansa on the cheeks before walking off towards to parts unknown of the castle, following him are his companions while two servants, one carrying a torch to light the way made their way towards her.

"Lady Sansa," said the servant who's not carrying the burning torch, "the Queen Mother, Princess Elia Martell is waiting for you at the Hall. Shall we escort you?"

"Before I go, I need to make sure my companions can rest while I meet the queen as well as my direwolf," she pointed Lady, "must be brought to the kennels," answered Sansa politely even though its already dark and she can only see half the faces of the servants.

The servants gave the direwolf a wary look. Sansa can't blame them, her direwolf might be the smallest from the litter but she is still bigger than any dogs in the castle.

'And she is still growing,' thought Sansa to herself.

"Your friends shall be delivered to the chamber where you will stay my lady with food and drink and anything that you shall require," the servant's paused, " is there someone that knows your dog m'lady?" asked the servant, almost stuttering, "because we still need to call the kennel master of the castle and that might take some time and you cannot delay."

"My friend Jeyne and my Septa shall stay with my direwolf then," she answered looking at her two companions, in which the two nodded their heads, "Lady knows them quite enough."

"Well then that is settled, come now Lady Stark," said the same servant, "I will lead the way."

Sansa followed the two servants, leaving the wheelhouse, her companions and her direwolf behind. Lady tried to follow her but one look at the direwolf and she obediently stayed with her Septa and Jeyne. Through the darkness of the castle's courtyard, they followed the hedges that will lead to the Queen's Ballroom.

Sansa felt nervous as she saw the arched entrance covered with vines that looks like to be snakes waiting to bite her. The entrance was flanked by two guards who have the sigil of House Martell on their shields, they didn't even budge when they passed by them.

After passing through the entrance, Sansa felt at ease seeing the familiar hall where her aunt Lyanna would host countless masquerades and feasts and the place would often be filled with music and laughter although neither of those familiar things are around now and apparently, Sansa can only see two familiar figures near the dais. Sansa knew she is safe.

'We're all women here,' she said herself as she finally reaches the two ladies, the servants leaving them alone on the huge Queen's Ballroom.

The two ladies waiting for her is as famed as her aunt Lyanna; Princess Elia Martell, the mother of the usurper king looks as frail as she is beautiful, with long dark hair that falls on her back. Sansa thought that her aunt Lyanna looks more beautiful than the queen mother.

'Far more beautiful,' Sansa thought although her sun kissed skin sets her apart from her aunt then the other lady looked at her, the one she wanted to meet ever since she was a child; Lady Ashara Dayne, the sister of the Lord Commander might be the most beautiful woman in the realm, even with age, she carries herself like a queen.

Sansa heard stories about the romance between Lady Ashara and her dead uncle, Brandon. They said that Lady Ashara ensnared her late uncle Brandon and that even her own father fell in love with her and seeing the lady of the south now, Sansa could not help but agree with the stories of the servants from Winterfell.

Lady Ashara Dayne has a long curly dark hair, some of it frames her petite face. She has purple eyes that pierce her blue ones like an arrow to a wood and she chastised herself by not asking for a mirror to look at herself before going here to meet them, she suddenly felt cautious of her looks.

"Your Grace," she said bowing to the queen mother, "my lady," then she curtsied on the other woman, "forgive me for not looking my best, I forgot--"

Princess Elia suddenly interrupted her by laughing softly and Sansa was confused about the reaction of the queen mother.

"Lady Sansa," said the Martell princess, "you don't need to be so formal and you do look amazing, isn't she Ashara?" then the princess turned to look at her friend.

"You have the Tully look about you child," said Lady Dayne, looking at Sansa with an interested eyes, "that Baratheon heir must grin from ear to ear on the day of your marriage," then she paused, "I knew your uncle Brandon, he was my lover and together, our love for each other produced a son, have you heard about your cousin Vorian Sand?"

Sansa heard about the mysterious cousin who was been raised in Dorne and a constant companion of King Aegon when growing up but she never knew the name until now.

"I heard about him my lady," she answered, "but it was the first time that I learned about his name."

"Well you're going to see him, he has taken the look of my family, not that it's a bad thing but he still in a way like your uncle Brandon," said Lady Ashara, her face playful, "especially with the girls," she quipped.

Sansa didn't try to ask the meaning of the words of Lady Dayne, she knows it well enough from the exploits of her own cousin, the Crown Prince.

"I trust that you had a comfortable ride? Was there any trouble on the road?" asked Princess Elia looking worried, "I mean, with the war starting soon?"

"Nothing Your Grace," she answered, "it was a pleasant journey."

"Good," Princess Elia eyed her, "are you fond of horses like your aunt?"

Sansa shook her head then the next question caught her off guard.

"Have you taken the Baratheon heir to the bed? I heard he is really smitten with you."

Blood immediately made its way on Sansa's face and once the two older women saw her reaction, they burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry we forget that you are not a dornishwoman," apologized Lady Dayne, "Elia, what were you thinking? Look at her face, it's almost as red as her hair."

Another fit of laughter took over them and this time Sansa finally joined in, thinking how different their cultures are.

"I gave my maidenhead to Rhaegar, I think you've heard of it," explained Elia, then she winked at her, "Targaryen's are a different sort of lover, they get what they want, they follow no rules nor gods like their dragons."

"It was the same with the Stark's," added Lady Ashara, "I wonder if the stags are the same?"

"Clearly not, look at Lord Robert and his heir," answered Princess Elia then she eyed Sansa, "but rest assured little wolf, Aegon is dutiful, he's not going to stray like his father did to your aunt."

Sansa faked a smile but at the back of her head, she wanted to tell the Queen mother that she's not going to fall for a false king like his son.

'Joffrey will devour Aegon like a lion to a snake,' she thought to herself not realizing that venom kills faster than claws and fangs.

"Where is the king anyway? He's late," complained Lady Ashara, turning to look at her friend.

"He gets that from me, I'm afraid," said the Martell Princess, then she returned her gaze to Sansa, "would you like some food Lady Stark, I heard you are fond of lemon cakes."

"Lemon cake would be nice Your Grace," Sansa answered dutifully, "but may I ask to see my sister Arya?"

This time, Sansa saw the fleeting looks between the two dornishwoman and she suddenly felt nervous.

'Is Arya dead? Gods no, please!'

"I'm afraid you can't," answered Princess Elia fueling her fear and this time she doesn't care its showing on her face, "just a few days past, she along with your cousin Daeron and a few other conspirators have escaped."

Sansa's breath was caught on her throat. She became speechless to the point of forgetting her manners and asking the two dornishwomen if she may be excused.

"Can I be excused?" she asked, she didn't intended it but her voice sounded sharp.

'Arya and Daeron escaped,' she thought, a dread coming up to dawn on her, 'now that they lose their two hostages, I'm going to fill their shoes.'

She ought to be happy about the news but for some unknown reasons, she can't.

But before either of the ladies with her can answer her question, a servant showed up announcing that King Aegon won't be able to attend Sansa tonight.

"Well I guess you are free for the night Lady Sansa," said Princess Elia kindly.

"We'll see you at court tomorrow dear," added Lady Ashara, kissing Sansa on the cheeks, Princess Elia did the same then they parted.

Another servant from the Martell household came to take Sansa on her room and when the morrow comes, she was not allowed to go to the court. For three days and two nights, she was forced to stay on her chamber along with her septa and best friend but not without a regular visits from Princess Elia, Lady Ashara, Lady Cersei, Myrcella, and her betrothed Joffrey.

"I've been trying to talk to the king, you will not be confined here forever my lady," promised his betrothed one night, "you will see me off when I go to war, soon," then they both shared a kiss under the arch window of her room.

The next night, Sansa was sitting near the window of her room when a knock came on her door. She was confused as to why Septa Mordane or Jeyne didn't just come in like what they usually do but when she looked at the door, she saw the reason why.

A tall Kingsguard knight is now standing on her door and base from his appearance, she already knows him.

"My lady," said the knight, offering a handsome smile, "I'm Vorian Sand, son of your dead uncle Brandon, I'm your cousin."

Like his king, Vorian Sand haven't showed himself to Sansa, not that she cares but Sansa thought that it's nice to finally meet her cousin.

"Ser Vorian Sand," she said, standing up from her seat, "the finest knight of Dorne," then she offered him a smile.

"So they say, my lady," he replied with an air of dismissal.

Sansa ignored his cousin's comment. "It's good to finally meet you, cousin."

Her cousin made his way towards her. A head taller than her, Vorian Sand looks every inch of maidens fantasy and like what his mother pointed out, he doesn't have the Stark appearance, instead, he has taken the look of his mother's family, just like her brother Robb, Bran and Rickon, who all have the look of Lady Catelyn's maiden family of House Tully.

His cousin sports a short cropped silver hair and clasp on his shoulder, pinned with the brooch of the sigil of his house is the snowy cloak of his rank, making him a living version of Sansa's dreams about brave and handsome knights.

'But I'm not so naïve to think that every knights in the Seven Kingdoms are as gallant like in the songs, no matter how beautiful they are,' she thought with caution, eyeing her cousin, trying to penetrate his soul for any sign of black thoughts, 'in real life, knights also serve men, evil men to earn coins and favors, land and titles,' she paused, her thoughts suddenly confused, 'what honor could my cousin win serving under the thief, King Aegon, I wonder.'

"Yes, its good that we finally meet cousin," then he went to ask to kiss her hand, in which she approves.

His lips were firm on her skin and his hands that touch hers were big but in a weird way, she thought that her cousin's hand is gentle.

"I beg your forgiveness for this delayed meeting my lady," he said after, eyeing her with a probing look, "my king and I were busy planning the battles ahead."

That gave her a pause. This battles that her cousin was talking about were against her own family; against her good uncle King Rhaegar, her cousin, the rightful heir of the Iron Throne Prince Jonothor, of her father Lord Eddard, her mother Lady Catelyn, her uncles Elbert Arryn and Edmure Tully, her aunt Lady Lysa and all the good and honorable people pledged to House's Targaryen, Arryn, Tully, Tyrell and Stark.

"I notice," she said with a nod, breaking their gaze for a second and she almost regretted when she returned her gaze on her cousin, because what she saw both confused and terrified her.

Vorian Sand is looking intently at her, she can almost feel the intensity of it and for a moment, she considered backing down but then remembered she must be strong as her lady mother. Their gazes met; his grey eyes against her Tully blue and she was pleased when soon enough, it was the knight who got intimidated on their little staring game.

"Women are the strong ones, really," said his cousin looking away shyly, "I grew up at the time where women are always in control," he said looking at the blanket of night sky outside her window, "my mother Lady Ashara, her close friend Princess Elia, Lady Cersei, Prince Oberyns daughters, Princess Arianne," he blushed when he mentioned the heir of Sunspear, "and Her Grace, Queen Lyanna," then he stared at her, now with a genuine smile on his lips making Sansa blush on how her cousin is so handsome, even her Joffrey would look like a mere stable boy next to him, "and you surely, I think you are stronger than all of them combined."

'I am a shewolf of Winterfell, it's my duty to be strong lady,' she almost said to his face but she remembered her courtesies.

"I am a hostage, surrounded by enemy, I need to be strong or else I'll perish," she admitted instead, "House Stark doesn't fare well below the Neck."

"That's true," answered her cousin with a nod, "but you're not without friends here in the Capital my lady."

"Are you my friend Ser?" she asked him.

He shook his head, "no, at least not yet," then he paused, "but because House Stark's blood flows on your veins as much as on my own, I would do you a favor, anything you want that I can give."

"In exchange for what?" asked Sansa, she's not stupid enough to know that favors always have a price, especially here in Kings Landing.

"We are family, with that alone this favor that you will ask of me is free, but I can't guarantee that its free the next time you ask," answered her cousin with sincerity on his voice.

"Well then," she said walking towards the knight, "since you offered freely, I want you to set me free."

It was dark when Sansa finally finish her prayers to the weirwood tree of Kings Landing, a first since she's not allowed to leave her chambers the morning after she arrived at the capital. Thanks to her cousin, she was able to leave her chambers four hours after his visit. There were no guards on her door when she left her room, and the path towards the godswood of the castle is mysteriously empty too.

She lost track of time on her prayers when she finally arrived at the weirwood tree of the castle. She prayed for peace and she also prayed to the gods of her father to keep her family safe, as well as her betrothed Joffrey, on the coming battles between King Rhaegar and King Aegon. After her prayers, her knees were aching and sore but it was a good ache, praying always sooths her mind.

She knows the castle well enough to be lost in the darkness of the morning hours as she makes her way back to her chamber. As she walks, the branches of the trees dance's gently, swaying on the early morning breeze, making a sound of almost tranquility and peace. She embraced her cloak tightly around her, catching a cold with the cold wind as her sandals steps on dead leaves and twigs and high above the night sky, she saw the red wanderer, watching her intently on the gaps of the canopy of the trees.

'The thief,' she thought and remembered the lessons of Maester Luwin, 'the Free Folk beyond the wall calls it. They said that it's the best hour for a man to steal a woman when the Thief was inside the Moonmaid.'

As she ponders on her thoughts, she smell a different scent. Of late, it seems like Sansa have adopted the trait of her direwolf lady to picked up even the smallest of scent in the air.

'And this one is a man,' she heard herself say then all of a sudden she felt movements and worse, its coming from behind. She stopped, frozen on her steps, the thought about the Thief and the Moonmaid and her lessons about stars now gone and forgotten, in exchange, fear filled her mind and she willed herself to move and once she finally did, she run, forgetting that she's a lady, almost a woman grown and she's running like she's back at Winterfell, running and playing with her brother Robb and Arya and Bran on their heels and Rickon even further behind, trying to keep up to them.

In her dismay, the a passing family of fat clouds covered the horned moon, making the godswood of the Red Keep as black as the heart of King Maegor the Cruel but that did not stop her from running blindly inside the forest, she tripped once or twice and her cloak was left tattered and was caught in an invisible branch of a small tree leaving her with her gown.

She run and she wished Lady is with her. No one would dare harm her if the direwolf is beside her or even Joffrey. She can almost see it, the Baratheon heir, slicing his sword in the night, challenging her pursuers to show themselves to him and die. She was nearing a turn ahead when she thought she finally outrun her pursuers but she thought wrong.

She hit someone as she was looking at her back to see if the one following her finally stopped the chase and the two of them both stumbled on the ground with Sansa on top of the person and when the horned moon finally returned its face to light the covered darkness of the Seven Kingdoms, she finally saw him.

He looks so much his father she thought for a moment that it was King Rhaegar but then his skin gave him away as well as the look on his lips and the mischievous glint on his eyes.

His Grace never looked so cruel and sly, Sansa thought, thinking about the gallant and honorable Rhaegar, comparing the Dragon king to this thief in front of her. Their gazes towards each other were intense and both of them are sucking in air to fill their lungs from all the running they did. Sansa can feel the warm breath of the man below her fanning her face.

'He smells like peppermint,' she thought for a moment.

"Why, I think I have caught a wolf," his voice sounded so much like the king, then in one swift move, he changed their positions, "and Lady Stark, I prefer to be on top."

Chapter 17: Daeron III

Notes:

I know its been too long since I updated but here it is now. Anyways Happy New Year to everyone! Hope y'all will enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Text

"My prince, wake up, you're dreaming again," it was the voice of Lord Jon Arryn, waking him up from his slumber.

Lately, every time the little prince would fall to sleep, he always dreams about a great dead dragon, lying dying on the shallow water of the trident as the sun reflects on his scales the color of green moss. He walked towards it nervously, half afraid and half curious about the magnificent creature with its open lifeless eyes staring into the sky amidst the shadows of great beasts moving all around them; snarling, clawing, stomping and devouring each other.

"Daeron," the dragon would call him, "Daeron, Daeron, Daeron," the prince couldn't figure out the melancholic voice coming from the beast, it almost sounded like his father.

'But that can't be,' he told himself on one time he woke up on his sleep, almost a prayer, 'father can't die,' but all the same, tears run down on his cheeks only to be wiped away with his own bare hands, 'I'm a prince, princes don't cry because of nightmares,' he would tell himself.

The second son of King Rhaegar Targaryen finally stirred on his bed, eyes now wide open. Standing beside his bed is his protector, Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale, Warden of the East and Master of Laws of his father's Small Council, now a shadow of the man he used to be, after spending months inside the black cells of the Red Keep.

He can still remember the night of their escape. He was awaken by Ser Jaime who's standing beside his bed in the early hours of the morning, dreaming of a forgotten nightmare, telling him they need to leave the castle.

"Wake up Prince Daeron," the Lannister knight told him, shaking him with his strong hands, "we need to leave."

And they did.

It was weird to see the knight wearing the white armor of the Kingsguard once again after putting on the Lannister colors of his house with both of his hands shackled for the past few months, to prevent him from killing anyone from the Martell court since King Aegon took over the castle.

That time, Daeron was almost sure he is dreaming again but he obliged to the instructions of the knight. They run with the darkness of the castle surrounding them, turning from this corridor to the next, entering a secret door that Daeron haven't known since that night and twice they got lost and needed to double back from the fifth tunnel in one of the secret ways under the Red Keep.

In one of the secret halls underneath the red castle, Lord Varys waited. It was a shocked for Daeron seeing the fat and soft man. They all thought that the spider perished after the taking of Kings Landing by House Martell but here he is, standing alive and well, wearing a black woolen cloth with his face covered by a black hood as well.

"Have we encountered any trouble?" asked Ser Jaime, stepping in front of Daeron, as if to protect him from invisible foes.

"Not yet," answered Varys, only then that the knight removed himself between the eunuch and the prince, "Seven bless us, it's good to see your face again Your Highness," said the spider, his voice emotional and Daeron saw that he wiped an invisible tears from his eyes.

He's not at all convinced that it's real.

"Save your tears for later, lead the way out," commanded Ser Jaime and Lord Varys obliged.

They emerged in the river, their feet soaked with sewage water, near the River Gate of the castle, a hundred kilometers away from the castle atop Aegon's Hill. They half run towards the nearest port where a group of people, soldiers from what Daeron observed with their sword belts and all, were waiting for them.

"These men are loyal to your father, my prince," said Ser Jaime then, "they will protect you with their life."

"You're not coming with me, Ser?" he asked, gasping for air as they neared the soldiers, "and where are my friends, I'm not leaving without them."

"The Velaryon boy and the two Seaworth brothers are already leaving," said Ser Jaime, pointing another ship already leaving for the open water of the sea, going to the other side of the Blackwater.

Daeron would have said good bye to the three of them, knowing that it might be the last time they would all see each other but the last thing he saw on them was the sail of their boat being raised on the distance.

A ship was waiting for them as well when they reach one of the smaller ports of the river, along with some of his young companions. Daeron wore a coat as black as the night sky and his silver hair was covered by hood, with him were his cousin Arya Stark whom he embraced, then the little Lyanna Mormont and Lyman Darry.

He found out later that Monterys Velaryon and the Seaworth brothers are sailing to the island of Driftmark via Masseys Hook for the protection of House Velaryon while Daeron and the others will sail via Roseby coast, not far away to the shore towards Dragonstone.

He was surprised to see Lord Jon Arryn on the eve of their escape, thin and pale, but rather well and most quiet.

'He might be wearing a decent clothes but it doesn't fit his body, or at least not anymore since spending his time on the dungeons of the Red Keep,' observed Daeron.

Queen Rhaella was there as well but it did not surprised Daeron at all. For all he knew, it was the Targaryen Queen who arranged for the passage.

"Listen to Lord Jon, Dae," said Queen Rhaella, his grandmother, kneeling to match his height, "he will keep you safe and will bring you back to Dragonstone, to your mother."

"I don't want to leave you nana," said Daeron, embracing the queen mother tightly, his tears threatening to burst, "come with us, come with me, please."

"I will follow all of you soon," said his grandmother, embracing him back and kissing him at the top of his head, "promise me you'll be brave, brave as your father and mother."

"And Jon," added Daeron with a nod, "I promise I will be brave grandmother."

"Good," Queen Rhaella's face become calm, as calm as the morning sea then she kissed Daeron on the top of his brow for the last time, "now go, Ser Jaime, Lord Jon, we don't have much time."

And that was the last words he heard from his grandmother as they boarded the ship bound to Dragonstone. He and his three other companions followed every command of Lord Jon starting then, though Daeron thought that the old man was never the same.

"No one comes out from the dungeons of the Red Keep sane, my prince," said Lord Varys to him one time, "you can't leave a man alone with his thoughts for too long in those dungeons, oft than not the darkness would drive them wild and devour what's left of their sanity."

But Lord Arryn is still their protector, a stalwart and loyal man of his father so when he said that they must stay at their own respective cabins, the prince and his companions obeyed him, when Lord Jon said that they must eat to regain their strengths, they licked the bowl clean of food and when he said that Daeron should cut his shoulder length silver hair to a short cropped one, he obliged to that request too.

"Change your clothes my prince, your food is waiting, as well as your friends," Lord Jon said after Daeron blinked a few times looking at the image of the old man, wondering if he still dreaming.

After changing to a simple silken tunic with the snarling direwolf engraved on one side and the roaring dragon on the other of the sleeves of the shirt, Daeron followed his Lord Protector.

As they walk on the narrow corridors of the galley, looking at the back of his protector made Daeron to remember someone, a knight, with a bigger build and muscle, far younger than Lord Arryn and just as brave.

'If only I could save him,' his thoughts drifted on that moment, on that terrifying moment, when the fighting inside the Red Keep occurred.

He missed Ser Willis Wode terribly, who died fighting at the carnage on the throne room of the Red Keep. Sometimes he dreams about that scene too, the memory of his friend and protector, sword in hand, his white cloak moving as he dance with invisible enemies, fighting valiantly, until the snakes cut off his head and sometimes it was not the head of Ser Willis, instead, it was the head of his father. The memory still made him cry.

When they reach the makeshift cabin that they turned into a small dining room, his friends were already seating on their respective places.

Lord Jon sat the head of the table, while Daeron took the empty one next to the old man.

A simple porridge, bacon, boiled egg and a pomegranate juice were the food and drink on their table that morning, and he and his friends ate everything eagerly, especially Lya and Arya, who ate like dogs and not a lady. It's a good thing Lord Jon seems not to mind as long as the food is gone on their plates.

"When we're leaving port my lord," said Daeron after finishing the food on his, "I can't help but noticed that Ser Jaime is with a party of his own, are they also leaving the city to escape?"

Lord Jon gave him a wary look.

"You are sharp, you never miss a thing," commented Lord Arryn, then he composed himself, "yes, they do," answered the old man, "Ser Jaime will feign an escape, as a knight of the Kingsguard, the Martell's must think that you're with him, that will hopefully confuse them, giving us a safe passage to Dragonstone."

"So the other ship where Monty, Devan and Maric were boarded was also a diversion?"

"You would never approve if the people behind our escape confides the plans to you," Lord Arryn eyed him seriously.

Daeron felt sick on his stomach.

'What if his brother Aegon caught the other ship first? What if he tortures his friends to their death? What if...'

"Ah lad, you have too much of your mother and father in you," commented the old man with a sad sigh, "but you must remember that as the second son of His Grace, your safety is an utmost priority," the old man paused, "but do not worry about your friends, they are very much protected if the ship comes to battle."

Daeron was not convinced. For the short time of knowing his half-brother Aegon, the young prince knows that there will be no more escape once the jaws of the bastard dragon closed on its prey.

'King Aegon will kill the others; Ser Jaime, Mont, Maric and Devan, just to show everyone that no one comes out alive from the dragons wrath,' the thought made him sad, thinking about the Lannister knight and his friends, 'I wish I could have said goodbye.'

After the news, Daeron decided to spend his time alone with his books. Trying to concentrate on the adventures of King Daeron, the Young Dragon, his namesake.

'King Daeron was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne, something his ancestors failed to do twice on the two infamously Dornish wars with their dragons. Splitting his army into three, the Boy King used a goat track to avoid the ambush of the dornish. It was a bitter success, House Targaryen have won the war but lost too many good men and it was short lived victory that also resulted to the death of the boy king.'

'I wonder if I will win great victories too,' said the young prince to himself then his cousin Arya, entered his cabin unannounced.

"Sneaking away from your lessons again?" he asked the girl, a sheepish smile already forming on his lips.

Daeron couldn't help but noticed the way Arya's hair is a little tangled up, he can clearly see the effort of her trying to make it look nicer but to no avail and as if reading his mind, her cousin suddenly tried smoothing her hair.

"Does it look that bad?" she asked, her face the combination of frustration and embarrassment, "I saw you grinning, I think it looks bad."

"No, no," Daeron quickly answered, "it looks nice, Arya."

As he try to convince her that her hair doesn't look bad, she made her way towards him, then sat opposite to where he is sitting.

"You're reading about that again?" she asked, the topic about her hair now completely forgotten as she glued her eyes on the painting of King Daeron on the book, "you know what, you resemble the Young Dragon, you know," then she pressed her face a little too much closer to his, looking at him with those brown eyes of hers, scrutinizing every inch of his face.

He felt hot all of a sudden and he couldn't do anything but to look away.

"I do not," Daeron protested after mustering the courage to look at her face again.

"Yes you do," snarled his cousin much to his chagrin because he can't snap back like she's snarling back at him, to her.

Lately he's been having trouble trying to be against Arya. Not that they disagree on anything but the thought of being against her seems incredulous for the young prince.

"And why is your face turning red?" asked Arya, "do you have a fever," then she touched his cheeks and forehead, "you seem normal to me."

"Of course I'm normal," he made a weak reply then before embarrassing himself more, he feigned interest on the other books that's lined up neatly on the shelves of his cabin.

He picked up the books, pretending to read the contents on the back cover, the dust and all ignored as the gentle lap of the ocean water on the prow of the ship is heard swishing repeatedly. Her cousin called his name for a few times and he ignored it, afraid that his embarrassment might still show on his face.

"Daeron!" when he heard the hint of anger on Arya's voice, he finally turned to look at her, a book on hand.

"Begging your pardon my lady," he apologized quickly, "what did I miss?"

"I said your guards are practicing their swords again," she answered and true enough, the sound of steel against steel can be heard from the top deck of their sturdy ship, "I want to join them," she said.

"You know that's unladylike Arya," Daeron replied with calm demeanor, but then he smiled, "maybe if I become king I will allow for you to carry a sword, you and Lya both."

He knows too well not to cross the line with his cousin so he came up with and excuse to please her.

"King? When will that happen?" scoffs Arya good-heartedly, "anyways, I'm going to visit Nymeria," she paused, moving closer to him, "I'll see you later Your Highness," then she kissed him on the cheek and bowed like a true lady.

He watched her go and after she closed the door, he doesn't know why but a foolish grin made its way on his lips.

'She can act pretty well like a true lady,' he said to himself as he tie what's left of his silver hair to a small knot, donning his silken tunic, breaches and boots and belting his own sword. He looked at himself in the mirror, wondering if it all fits. Normally, a servant would help him dress if he wants an unexpected visit on the training yard but since he's not in a normal situation, he let it fly.

'Mother would have wanted me to do things on my own anyways,' he muttered under his breath, then he remembered Her Grace; beautiful, good, kind, gracious and honorable and then there were tears on his eyes.

'I will see you again, mother,' he said it almost a prayer, wiping the tears on his eyes.

He made his way towards the evident sounds of men hooting and shouting. It was a small crowd, consisting of soldiers loyal to his father. Forty three men came aboard the ship with them and Daeron dutifully learned their names as was the custom of his mother's sire, Lord Rickard Stark.

The most popular and skilled among the crowd of young men is a lad called Endrew, who originally came from Dorne some two years past. As a fisherman's son, living along the coast of Broken Arm, Endrew would practice with fishing poles and nets as if it's a real armor and when accepted as a crew to a fishing galley that will transport goods to Kings Landing he accepted the job and never returned home again.

"I was one of the lads that your brother, Prince Jon has been training outside the castle," he confessed to Daeron one night, "and he was also the one who permitted me to join the City Watch."

Daeron realized that even though his brother is on the far north, Jon always finds a way to protect and help him.

"My prince, did you come to practice today?" asked one of the men as he entered the premises.

"Yes," he answered; the eyes of the men on the makeshift yard now on him.

Everyone called for Endrew to train the prince and the young soldier obliged; strapping him with armor and giving him a blunt sword and teaching Daeron all the ways with the sword that he knows. Lyman Darry also asked to be trained as the day wore on and the two friends battled, with Daeron coming up on top each time, much to the delight of the soldiers watching the game, as well as Lord Jon Arryn, who's standing on the upper deck with the captain of the ship, overlooking the makeshift yard, nodding with a silent approval.

As the dusk settled in, Daeron and Lyman both earned new bruises but nevertheless, they were pleased with themselves and by the time evening arrived, when they we're on the table eating with the Lord Protector, they made up plans of new ways of sword fighting.

"None of those would be effective, I'm pretty sure," commented Arya after the two boys finished with their plans, "I often hear father tell Robb that it's all different when you're in the field of war, your enemy will not wait for your next move," then she paused, with a nodding Lyanna beside her, "he will kill you right away."

"Shut up Arya," countered Lyman, "you're just sore cause you can't join us."

Daeron saw her cousin give Lyman a narrow look.

"Arya could fight," said little Lyanna, "and I bet she can best you in sword fight."

"I think not," was the indignant reply of the Darry boy.

As the three started arguing, Daeron wondered why Lord Jon is not interrupting their little argument so when he looked at the old man, he saw that there is an intent creased on his forehead, as if listening for something outside the ship and so Daeron did the same thing and sure enough, something was eerily wrong with the silence of the night.

"Stop the three of you," said Lord Arryn, and that's when they heard the rain of arrows, landing on the wooden planks of their ship with a dozen thuds, startling the two girls and making Lyman whimper in fear.

"Daeron, I want you to go to the nearest escape boats on the lower deck of the ship, bring your friends, I will send men to follow you down below but its best that you are all ready to disembark the galley."

The young prince couldn't do anything but nod his head.

"Go on lad," said Lord Jon, now drawing his sword, "go!"

And all of them obliged, with Daeron on the lead. Outside their cabin they made their way to the nearest escape boat with two of the guards already preparing it for its first sail but suddenly Arya froze.

"Nymeria," she said then she went running to the lower level of the ship.

The three of them called out for her but Arya is too stubborn to stop.

"Go to the boats," he told Lyman and Lyanna, "we will be back with Nymeria."

And so he went on a sprint, following his cousin to the empty and dark corridor of the lower deck of the ship.

"Seven hells," he muttered under his breath, "she's a fast runner," the narrow corridors are empty and its eerily muted of any sound as if there's no fighting happening outside but soon enough, Daeron heard a clicking of metal, a relieve sigh of his cousin and the barking of the direwolf.

He was about to turn the corner, and already thinking of how to chastise Arya but then he heard movements then a voice.

"And what do we have here," he suddenly froze.

"A little girl and her pup," said another.

And Daeron heard the growling of Nymeria.

"Go away!" cried Arya to the strangers, but obviously the strangers stayed, "Nymeria, attack!"

Daeron sprinted quickly, his hand on the scabbard of his sword and he saw how the direwolf fell on the nearest man who didn't anticipated the ferocious creature.

"Arya!" Daeron called out, announcing his arrival.

"Ah, here you are," said the second man with a smirk on his ugly face, "I'll be a lord," he said, his voice very much pleased on the reward of taking him back to his half-brother Aegon.

When the stranger unsheathed his sword, Daeron knew he had to fight him, kill him if he can and something on his mind snapped, as if his blood is boiling and he let out a fierce cry.

Sprinting as fast as he could, he caught the man off guard by jumping 4 yards away from him, Daeron swinging his sword in backstroke and the stranger was too slow, too surprised to counter him and he sunk the sword, as deep as he could on the man's chest, taking away his life as Daeron saw his first kill eyes rolling upward.

They both fell on the ground with a heavy thud on the wooden floor, the stranger, dead below the Prince, his fresh wounds already seeping with blood, the metallic stink hitting Daeron's nostrils like fresh bacon in the morning.

"Daeron," exclaimed his cousin but Daeron couldn't distinguished the sound, if its relief or something else and he felt so cold on that few seconds, that he was only able to stare at the lifeless eyes of the man he just killed, "Nymeria, Daeron, come, the smoke is coming!"

It was definitely the sound of panicked and it snapped Daeron back to reality. He smeared the blood from his hands on the dead man's clothes and crawled away from him, turning to look at his cousin, he saw her scratching Nymeria's neck while the direwolf licks blood on his nose and that's when Daeron saw the second body in the room.

He and Nymeria had their first kill.

"Cover your nose," Daeron said to Arya as the first sign of smoke hit him, "let's go."

They finally made their way back to the number of narrow hallways going to the direction of the lifeboats with the direwolf on the lead. Nymeria killed two more attackers who seem to be instructed to follow the first two on the makeshift kennel for Nymeria. Halfway through, Endrew and some other men finally caught sight of them much to the relief of the young soldier.

"There you are!" he said, "come!"

Daeron and Arya willingly obliged with Nymeria tailing her owner.

"Are we still under attack?" asked Daeron but his voice was lost from all the sounds above them and he saw the small group of men waiting for them with little Lya and Lyman already inside one of the boats.

"Help them unload the boats faster," he barked out to three of the soldiers with them, "and Prince Daeron, Lady Stark, be with your friends, I'll follow you shortly," Daeron almost wanted to chastised Endrew on his courtly knowledge, he wanted to remind him that it was Lady Catelyn who should be called Lady Stark, not Arya but he let it pass.

"Where is Lord Arryn?" asked Daeron, his voice now louder for the young soldier to be able to hear him as another group of soldiers arrived.

"He is leading the charge, Your Highness," answered Endrew as he helps the others untie the boats, "Artis, wait for Lord Arryn and to any survivors that can fight, leave the others," then Endrew finally joined them on the boat, with two others who he picked personally by names, "faster," bellowed Endrew on the two men who were loosing the rope on the pulleys of their boat.

As they descend on the sea, Daeron could now see fire licking the wooden planks on the reflection of the water, the sound of swords clashing and dying men and all of his friends was startled when the bottom of the boat finally reaches the sea water and then Endrew and his men paddled, hard.

He can see that two other boats quickly followed and a fourth and a fifth were also on the way and Daeron was relieved to see someone wearing a sky blue armor which he knew would be Lord Arryn.

"He is safe."

Amidst the chaos, he couldn't believe that the fire could engulf the ship so fast that when their boat finally made distance with the burning ship, all he could do is to look at the water vessel, thinking that "a ship this magnificent shouldn't burn this fast."

He is seated on the middle of the boat and all around him, the men are shouting to paddle harder to the shore. With the burning ship behind them, they were momentarily obscure by the pursuing ship of his half-brother Aegon, so the advantage is with them but not for long.

Five boats they originally were but the two stayed behind, consisting of archers, their bows strung, the arrows just waiting for their targets to appear on the moonlight. By the time they reach the shores, all the men who stayed on the burning ship have already been taken down or surrendered and that the pursuing ship of the king is already onto the two boats that stayed behind.

"Come Daeron," said Lord Jon Arryn, as they un-board the boats, his cousin's direwolf already running to the nearby woods much to the distress of Arya.

"She will find her way to us Arya," encourage little Lyanna, "it's the same with the bears of Bear Island; a lost cub always find its way to its mother, and Nymeria is like your daughter."

"Or maybe she is my mother," retorted her cousin but it was lost on the sudden bark of commands from Lord Arryn but he never missed the way Arya's eyes swelling with tears.

Daeron wanted to wipe the brimming tears from his cousin's eyes but they are now running towards the forest, following the direwolf's pawprint on the sand.

Once inside the forest, with the tangled roots and undergrowth and the cover of the trees canopy making it even darker, Daeron was lifted up by Endrew.

"This will be faster, Your Highness," explained the young soldier who trained him just few hours earlier that day, "carry the kids on your shoulders!" He barked out the command.

And Daeron, his middle on the shoulder blades of Endrew, with his gaze at the back, saw that Lyman, Lyanna and Arya were lifted up as well.

The men started moving in the dark, with the first group on the lead, led by Lord Jon Arryn with another soldier who guides the way for he know the woods.

They run, and with every beat of his heart, Endrew's soldier boots pounded the forest canopy. Whereas King Aegon's men have superiority in numbers, most of his father's men were born for running and escaping. They were born from Crownlands, Riverlands and the North; sons of farmers, forest keepers and fishermen who all grew up on the countryside, and even now, three of their companions grew up on the forest where they are being chased so try as the Kings men might to catch up to them, the knowledge of their guides always took them one step ahead, much to the pleasure of Endrew.

A howl from a direwolf was heard after an hour of their entrance in the woods, Nymeria sounded so close, as if she's running with them but he couldn't see any four legged creature on neither of his side.

Lord Jon seems to share Daeron's sentiments of Nymeria being nearby so he halted and so are the rest of their company, mist coming out from their ragged breathing, listening for the pursuers, all gaze on their back and sure enough, their pursuers are still on them, with torches burning like a firefly floating on the air from afar.

"We are still far from the nearest town?" asked Lord Arryn to one of the guides.

"About five hours more m'lord," answered the guide who's leading them, breathing evenly, "this forest is big m'lord."

"Should I make an ambush attempt on our pursuer's m'lord?" it was Endrew who volunteered and he put Daeron down, "just give me a few men and we will delay them."

The idea doesn't sit well with the young prince, he doesn't want to lose any more of his father's men.

"Ambushed is a foolish thing to do now," answered Lord Arryn much to the relief of the young prince, "we must keep going, we still have the lead and the advantage, and we'll discuss ambush if our chances turned sour."

Before they continued, Lord Arryn allowed the men and Daeron's friends to drink some water and the young prince shared Endrew's skin.

"Are you set to go my lord?" asked the young soldier after he drinks.

"Yes," answered Daeron with a nod and so they are off again.

Daeron thought that Lord Arryn's pronouncement of having the advantage over the kings men are not entirely true because as the hours went by, he thought that their pursuers, all though little, are gaining on them. He briefly wondered about the name of the forest, all those he knew about the location is that it's under the rule of House Rykker, a family up jumped by his late grandfather, King Aerys, his own father's mad sire.

'Will they be loyal to my father?' wondered the prince, remembering from his lessons that House Rykker fought for King Aerys against his father on the previous war, 'he hopes the answer is the former.'

Halfway through their journey to the nearest town, Endrew asked for a breather, and he asked if he can carry Daeron on his back.

"Just let others carry me if you're tired, Endrew," he told the young soldier, as his friends have been switched up but Endrew would have none of it.

"I'll carry you all the way to Maidenpool if I must," countered the soldier, "I appreciate your concern Your Highness, but don't worry about me, I'm fine."

At quarter to twelve in the morning since their escape, they finally saw signs of a small sleeping village ahead as the wooden building of watchtower came to view but as they go closer, it did not look like a town as it finally came to view to Daeron, rather, it was a small settlement made of tents and a couple of small wooden boxed buildings. The in charge of the settlement was quickly woken up by one of the watchmen and the confused man quickly came running to meet Lord Arryn.

"I'm Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, Master of Laws of King Rhaegar's Small Council and the Warden of the East, I came in a dangerous times, where does your loyalty lies, to the usurper of the throne or the true king of Westeros?"

"M'lord," said the man, "I am Ruster, and my lord, Lord Redfred Rykker serves his Grace, King Rhaegar and so are everyone under his domain including me and my men."

"That is a relief to hear," answered Lord Arryn, "because you will need to organize fighting men on this fort, hold it and keep the usurpers kings men at bay. Arrange the horses for we need to reach Duskendale as soon as possible. Can you do that, Ruster?"

"Yes m'lord," answered the man dutifully

Daeron wanted to thank the man personally but Endrew kept him well hidden.

"Put your hood up," whispered the young soldier and with one glance at Lord Jon, he obliged the instruction.

Everyone around them prepared the defense of the fort, while Daeron, along with his friends, Endrew and Lord Jon was taken to the biggest tent along with Ruster. A small circular wooden table is on the middle along with some papers scattered on the surface and the man lighted a candle for to light the dark spaces.

"Tell me, is there any news of the war?" asked Lord Jon after they settled in.

Little Lyanna Mormont and his cousin Arya sat on the stool, listening intently on the conversation while Lyman Darry stood beside Daeron, and Endrew is on the entrance of the small tent, watching everyone, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

"A week ago, the war started in Riverlands m'lord, even now, they are still fighting on the field," said Ruster, and counting the days, Daeron realized that they were already on the ship that's bound to Dragonstone when it started, "the Usurpers army is led by Lord Tywin Lannister and Lord Robert Baratheon and his brother Stannis, two more armies are fighting for the false king, one in Dorne led by Lord Anders Yronwood and one westerland army led by Ser Kevan Lannister while His Grace, King Rhaegar Targaryen, Lord Eddard Stark and your nephew," he turned to look at Lord Arryn, "Elbert Arryn along with the remaining Kingsguard of the king is leading the Kings host here in the Riverlands while Lord Mace Tyrell is fighting the other Lannister host and Lord Radyll Tarly is leading another host to fight off Dorne."

Daeron learned in many of his books that in Westerosi war, one key factor to win against your foes is to secure alliances with a great house, taking advantage of their army, their navy and their resources and to him, hearing all of these information, seems unbalanced as one more Great House haven't tossed their dice yet which is House Greyjoy.

'Where's Theon and his father and brothers?' he asked himself, 'and where is Jon?'

The missing status of his brother made him worry the most and it seems like Lord Arryn share the same sentiments with him for he voiced out Jon next.

"So the Crown Prince haven't made it back then?" asked Lord Jon Arryn, his face void of emotion, "and where is Lord Connington?"

"You are right m'lord that the Crown Prince is still at the Wall," said the man with a nod, his shadow seems to be a spectral being behind him, "and Lord Connington have been exiled by the king, I don't know the reason myself but there was a rumor going around that he betrayed His Grace trust," then the man paused, his eyes turning to look at Daeron and his friends with the candles small flames illuminating everyone's faces, "and for the Gryffin Lord's place, His Grace appointed Lord Stark to be his Hand on this troubled times."

Daeron heard the unmistaken sound of surprised by his cousin Arya but suddenly Endrew came whirling inside the tent towards Lord Jon.

"M'lord," he said, "King Aegon's men are here."

"Are the steeds prepared?" turned Lord Jon to Ruster, suddenly alert once more.

"Yes m'lord," answered the man, "how many are going? We only have fifteen."

"Fifteen is too small number to keep the prince safe –" Endrew suddenly cut himself, almost embarrassed that the information slipped out from him.

"Prince Daeron?" wondered Ruster and he quickly made eye contact with the prince, and kneeling in front of him, "Your Highness, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," answered the little prince politely, almost embarrassed himself.

"We don't have time for all these introductions," cut in Lord Jon, "Your Highness, come with me."

And that's how it started that fifteen of the original crew of the ship who departed from Kings Landing, including Lord Arryn, found their way riding horses in the wee hours of the morning riding to the town of Duskendale leaving behind the port where Ruster led the defense against King Aegon's men.

Lord Arryn is on the head of the company along with the two remaining guides while Daeron is sitting behind Endrew. Arya, Lyanna and Lyman share the same positions with three other soldiers just behind them and further at the back are the soldiers carrying bow and arrows.

"They will stand behind, to delay King Aegon's men if they will caught up to us but I don't see how can they do this considering they don't have horses," explained Endrew, "and hopefully, this day, we will reach the protection of the town of Duskendale, where we will get fresh horses going to Maidenpool and from there you and your friends will be transported to Dragonstone via ship."

Daeron nodded, praying to the Old Gods of his mother to make the day proper and it seems like the favor of the wind is on their side as they glided on the field, going on a steady rate, leaving the wild trail of the forest and to the kings road, on their way to the port town of Duskendale. The morning breeze are cold and Daeron was relieved for the shared warmth of the young soldier Endrew but when the sun finally came up on the east, Daeron saw that it was blood red.

"Bad tidings are upon us," he said more to himself and halfway through the journey to Duskendale, they saw a group of farm houses. They were stopped by an old farmer and beside him stands a tall and very muscled youth and looking closely, Daeron could see that he has blue eyes and thick black hair, with them are a group of farmers, as if waiting for them.

"Are you men from Kings Landing?" asked the farmer, holding tightly on his rake, his thin shoulder shaking from the morning breeze.

"I am Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale, Warden of the East and Master of Laws of King Rhaegar's Small Council," announced Lord Arryn and the farmers looked at each other while the youth scratched his head stubbornly, as if he did not understand a thing.

"Lord Arryn? Oh m'lord we are at your service m'lord," cried out the farmers but then they heard hooves rampaging the kings road ahead, they were about to turn back with their steed at the ready but then they saw riders bearing the sigil of House Rykker; two black warhammers on a white satire on blue.

"Shouldn't we run?" he heard Lyman from behind him.

"No," Daeron answered, "these are men of Lord Renfred Rykker, he is loyal to father."

But when the riders finally reach them, Daeron felt a chill on his skin and was surprised to see one of the riders, a bastard woman whom he remembers all too well.

"Lady Tyene," he said, at this, Endrew turned the horse they are riding, and the prince can see her clearly as his father's men suddenly draw their swords and it all happened so fast that the bastard daughter of Prince Oberyn threw a poisoned dagger at Lord Jon Arryn, hitting him squarely on the chest and gave a whimpered mumble and then fell from his horse, his mouth bubbling and his eyes rolling.

"My Lord!" called out Daeron who wanted to jumped out from his horse but was stopped by Endrew.

"No Prince Daeron," said Endrew, "stay."

Observing all of them, the sand snake finally gave a satisfied grin and turned to look at Daeron.

"And it is I, Your Highness, Tyene Sand, who shall deliver you to your brother," said the sand snake, removing her hood entirely to show her fair skin and golden hair with her deep blue eyes, even her sweet voice sounded deadly to Daeron, "King Aegon misses you terribly."

"How can it be?" asked Daeron, "Lord Rykker is loyal to father!"

"He was, until he received the many ill news from the war, your brother Jonothor, captive of the wildlings on the far North, your mother Lyanna dying from his pregnancy on Dragonstone and King Rhaegar dead, slain by Lord Baratheon on the village southeast of the Isle of Faces that they call now as the Village of Sorrow, it was a sad, terrible news that crashed the faith of all the lords loyal to your father that includes that worm of a man, Lord Renfred," answered Lady Tyene and Daeron couldn't figure out what to say or think but he was unaware that he seems to have hard time breathing, "yes little prince, your father is dead and his army scattered," then she paused, "now who shall die next?"

Chapter 18: Barristan I

Notes:

First of all, I just want to clarify that I am not affected by the negative comments I received so there is no need to worry about me and I have every intention to finish this story. I was not able to update as much as I like because of my work (yes I am working) but this month of May, expect to have one more update from me.

BTW if you are reading Harry Potter FanFic pls. check out my story in Wattpad titled, "The Treasure of the Ghost of Hogwarts"

Thank you all. I hope you will enjoy this chapter from Ser Barristan POV.

Chapter Text

It was a calm night in Pentos and Ser Barristan Selmy, called Barristan the Bold by all of those who admires him, is standing on the dock of the city, watching his men prepare the sail for their journey going back to Westeros while Ser Davos is overseeing the work on the ship, checking each of the crew personally, to prevent any event like what happened to Queen Lyanna and her crew some fifteen years passed that resulted to the death of Lord Rickard Stark.

"These dornishmen and women might do the same trick with my crew," said Ser Barristan when he learned of Prince Quentyn's and his companion's presence on the city.

The knight yearns to be back on King Rhaegar's presence, wants to be part of the war council, strategizing on how to win the battles on the field, Barristan's knew all too well the enemies of the crown; Prince Doran Martell, his younger brother Oberyn, Lord Anders Yronwood, Lord Robert Baratheon and the mighty Lord Tywin Lannister.

Among the enemies of the crown, Ser Barristan worries about Lord Robert the most, who almost killed His Grace on the war of Rhaegar against his sire, King Aerys before.

"He will be more dangerous now," he thought to himself, his hands gripping the pommel of his sword, "if he come across the king on the battlefield just like what happened before..."

He doesn't want to think about what should happen to his king if the same thing occurs again and it gives him an uneasy feeling, a feeling of helplessness that would only go away if he's beside Rhaegar, making sure that no harm will come to him.

'These are dangerous times,' Barristan thought, remembering the letter from the usurper, the bastard son of His Grace; Lord Botley and his kingsguard brother Ser Willis Wode, dead, Lord Arryn imprisoned, and all of the court captive including the queen mother and the sweet little Daeron. Rhaegar and Lyanna must be heartbroken, and the most troublesome news of all is the absence of the Crown Prince along with the Lord Commander and the Crown Prince companions, 'where they could be?'

When all of a sudden, he heard a commotion from the road and when he turned to look what it was all about, he saw Unsullied men, marching towards him in two lines, between them, he saw Illyrio leaving his litter carried by his servants, making his way towards him.

'I wonder what he needs?' Barristan asked himself as his own men forms a line on either side of him.

"Ser, my good knight," came the voice of the cheesemonger, the extra flesh on his chin bouncing as he made his way closer to Barristan, "a letter," it seems like the short walk took half of the fat man's strength as he is gasping for air, "a letter from the lord hand!"

Barristan took the letter, removing the seal of the griffin of House Connington and reading the contents in silence. The letter says that the Royal Family will leave the North and travel to the Riverlands in haste after the unsuccessful attempt on the lives of the king and the queen that resulted to the death of Domeric Bolton and that His Grace instructed him to arrive in Maidenpool where Barristan will lead the small number of soldiers which were arranged for him.

"Ill news, my knight?" asked Illyrio who's intent on watching his expression when he read the letter.

"More than ill," he answered then he turned to his squire, "tell Ser Davos to make haste, we need to be in Maidenpool within a week."

The young boy nodded and he ran as fast as he could to the makeshift bridge that connects their ship to the dock.

"Do you need any more help or any request a humble man like myself can offer, my good Ser?" asked Illyrio.

This time, Barristan turned to look at him, face to face.

"Yes, I do have one request from you my lord," said Ser Barristan and he was glad that the fat lord did not flinched from his gaze, "I want you to make sure that nothing bad will happen to Rhaegars beloved sister, I may not know how to play courtly intrigues but I know, one way or another, you benefited from this foolish decision of her."

"I swear to all the gods Ser, I didn't---," retorted the merchant in which Barristan cut him off immediately.

"Please my lord, stop using the gods to prove a point," he said, "if anything bad shall happen to Dany, this I swear, I'll tell His Grace you were the one who's responsible for her affair with the Dothraki lord and you shall know not to step on the dragons tail."

The conversation was cut short by Barristan's own squire who come running back after his recent instruction.

"Ser, Ser Davos said the ship is ready," said the young boy.

Barristan nodded at him, "Fetch my things Hoster, we will leave the city."

The boy nodded and did as he was told then Ser Barristan gave his one last words to the lord of cheese.

"My lord, this is a good bye."

Illyrio did not reply and Barristan was more relieved to see that his warning has taken an effect on the man.

Barristan left him and with his squire trailing behind him as he started his ascent, his squire carrying his breastplate while his men formed a straight line behind, following the step of their commander going to the ship that would take them back to their homeland.

When he was finally on board, he was greeted by Ser Davos.

"Everything is good, Ser Davos?" Barristan asked.

"Yes," answered the other knight, "any news from the King?"

Barristan motioned for them to go to the cabin for a much needed privacy and once there, he told the troublesome news.

"Then we must make haste," said Ser Davos, his face clearly troubled, "for all we know, there is now fighting on the field."

"That's what I'm scared of," confessed Barristan, "so Ser Davos, I asked of you to go forth now, our King needs us."

"I will do my best," answered the knight and turning around and barking out a command, they finally are back to the sea, going back to Westeros, to their home.

They travelled for more than a week, unfortunately for them; the winds were not on their favor. Passing the island of Dragonstone, the knight saw that the castle is prepared for war and siege. The banners of House Targaryen were flapping proudly on the tallest tower of the castle and some of the war ships from the Royal Fleet are docked on its port as well.

Barristan wanted to go and visit Lyanna, to see her situation and to comfort the queen but he followed Rhaegar's instruction, because he is still obliged to obey and went to Maidenpool instead.

It was almost a relief when Barristan saw the busy harbor and its pink walls but he put that good feeling at the back of his mind when he saw the state of the town from the inside.

People are all over the place, all looking distressed with men bearing swords in every corner of the town and soldiers that will go to war are camped outside of its walls is very evident as well. An escort ship guided them to port when they are nearing the Maidenpool, the captain of the escort ship later on told them that it was an instruction from Lord Mooton.

The escort ship guided them to the nearest possible dock to where the soldiers were camped and to his surprise, he saw a fellow knight, Ser Brynden Tully, waiting for him, who was left to command the men while waiting for his arrival back in Westeros.

"A pleasant surprise to see you Ser Brynden," said the knight when the two of them finally met on the makeshift dock, Davos was left to oversee the ship but will join them on Barristan's tent as soon as he can while his squire followed close behind him.

"I am most pleased to see you, Ser Barristan," answered the Tully knight, "but I will admit that these are troubled times, and we need to march as soon as possible."

"We will, possibly at the break of dawn," answered the knight, sharing Ser Brynden's worry, "please Ser, relay me Rhaegar's situation."

The Blackfish nodded his head, expecting the request and started talking immediately.

"Rhaegar's host are camped somewhere between Sows Horn and the Antlers and the enemy host led by Robert Baratheon last reported position was at Stokeworth, advancing every day to meet Rhaegar's host while Lord Eddard Stark's host is camped at the Gods Eye Town, to stop any armies from the West to advance on the Royal host. Lord Tywin's host on the other hand is camped at Hayford Castle close to Kings Landing, protecting the capital to any loyalist that might attack. A fighting on the border of the Reach also broke out and there is an unrest on our allies because Prince Jonothor is still nowhere to be found and we heard that the younger prince, escaped the capital but their ship was burned, killing everyone," the knight paused, looking troubled as well, "the lords fighting with us are scared for the life of the queen and her unborn babe, of the effect of all these horrors to Her Grace."

It was troublesome indeed, it was worse than what Barristan imagined and Prince Daeron dead? Barristan couldn't believe it.

"Maybe Daeron survive, that boy is a fighter and the Crown Prince might be on his way back to us, as we speak," the knight tried to be optimistic.

"I also hope the best for the royal family," agreed Ser Brynden as they started to walk towards the camp, "I didn't see the princess with you, she stayed in Pentos?"

"Yes," answered Barristan, "she is off to marry a dothraki horse lord."

"A Targaryen marrying a dothraki? That's a sight I like to see," Barristan couldn't tell if the Blackfish is jesting or just mocking the decision of the princess.

"This is not just a simple dothraki lord," Barristan countered, "the name is Khal Drogo, he has a forty thousand strong riders, the biggest khalassar of his time."

"Well it will be good if the princess comes home to us and save her brother and nephews," said Ser Brynden dryly, "we need all the help we can get."

Barristan did not say anything. Instead, he pondered about what made Daenerys come to that decision.

'If the gods are good and we won this war, Jonothor will seat on the throne with the Tyrell girl as his queen so maybe when Daenerys comes with her Dothraki screamers, she would take the Iron Throne from her nephew and his Tyrell queen,' the lessons from the Targaryen Civil War called the Dance of the Dragons started coming back to him.

When they arrived at the camp, Ser Barristan was taken on his own modest tent; a round table on a center and a makeshift bed on the corner. The knight is used to it, sleeping on small quarters like this; he grew up in the field of battle and won his place in the Kingsguard by proving his prowess on the battlefield, tents like this almost became his second home.

On the table is the map of Riverlands and Crownlands with the location of the fighting characterized by a big figures of three headed dragons both on opposing side, with the lion of House Lannister, the stag of House Baratheon, the moon and falcon of House Arryn, the trout of House Tully and the direwolf of House Stark.

"Where is the Lord Hand?" he asked the Tully knight, suddenly curious of the missing Griffin of House Connington.

"Which one?" asked Ser Brynden.

"Rhaegar's Hand," answered Barristan.

"Oh, that Griffin lord?" Ser Brynden's voice sounded amused, "the man was exiled to the Free Cities, it turned out that the lad warming his bed on the Tower of the Hand at Kings Landing is actually Rhaegar's son to that Martell princess."

Ser Barristan was greatly shocked about the news and it took him a full minute to recover.

"Exile is a soft punishment," he concluded, "so who is Rhaegar's Hand of the King now?" he asked the Tully knight but then at the back of his mind, he already knew the answer.

"Queen Lyanna's brother, Lord Eddard," Ser Brynden pointed the position of the direwolf and the trout figures on the map.

"I see," said Barristan, he was surprised that Eddard took the position but the knight guessed that Lord Stark might not have other choice after all, "who are the remaining Kingsguards now?"

"The Lord Commander and Ser Oswell Whent is with His Highness, Prince Jonothor in the North," answered Ser Brynden, "Ser Richard Lonmouth is with Her Grace Queen Lyanna and Her Highness Princess Margaery and Ser Myles Mooton is with His Grace, King Rhaegar," the Tully knight paused, "Ser Willis Wode is dead while Ser Jaime is still captured at the capital."

'All scattered,' Barristan said to himself, 'and one dead, Ser Arthur must choose another for Ser Willis post.'

"And who are the named knights on the Kingsguard of Rhaegar's bastard son, ser?" asked Barristan out of curiosity.

"Her Grace own nephew by her dead brother Brandon, Ser Vorian Sand, this lad is even the nephew of our very own Ser Arthur Dayne," answered the Tully knight as if he is expecting the question come out, "Ser Gerold Dayne, a kin of of both Ser Vorian and the Lord Commander as well, Ser Daemod Sand, the bastard of Godsgrace," Ser Brynden stopped, "the other post are still vacant, Oberyn Martell must be waiting for some knight fighting for them to show his valor on the battlefield."

"They chose well," said Barristan.

The knights under the usurper are all young but has good reputations across the Seven Kingdoms and they came from good families as well.

"They did," said the Tully knight on a dry monotone voice, as if mocking his own words, "the only problem is that they are free to have family of their own."

'Love is the death of duty,' thought Barristan, he heard the saying from a brother of a Nightswatch before.

"You look like you need to rest Barristan," said the Blackfish, "give yourself some of it, it will be good for you, we will be waiting for you till the break of dawn."

Barristan indeed feels heavy because of lack of sleep.

"Ready the men Brynden," he instructed the Tully knight, "on the morn we will march."

The other knight nodded and left him alone. Barristan made his way on the bed and then the Blackhood boy who is squiring for him entered his tent, bringing with him his belongings.

"Anything else you want Ser?" asked the tall youth.

"No Hoster," he answered, "just wake me on the break of dawn."

"I will Ser Barristan," answered the lad and left him.

Barristan removed his heavy armor and put on fresh linen clothes. After washing his face on the basin of cold water, he finally laid himself to the straw bed with feathered pillow and push himself to sleep but later on, he wished he didn't.

While sleeping, he was visited by a dream he had from the past, a dream that was so bad and unnatural he tried erasing it on his memory but now that it came back to him, its more clearer than ever, more accurate and sinister.

He dreamed he was on the throne room and he is surrounded by lords and ladies, great and small. Some of which were already dead, while others are alive as far as Barristan knows. There was Stark family; Lord Rickard, his body burned except his face, Lady Lyarra, who looks pale and sick and Brandon Stark, blood dripping everywhere, along with the dead Starks were Eddard and his own family. Next to them stands the Lannisters; Lord Tywin Lannister, golden and strong, Lady Genna, beautiful and bloodied from childbirth, and came their own children along with the Baratheon siblings Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen to Barristan's confusion. Came next are the Arryns then the Baratheon brothers, the Tyrells, the Tullys, the Martells, the Greyjoys and lastly, on the bottom nearest to the Iron Throne came House Targaryen. Headed by Queen Lyanna, blood dripping from her grey gown, carrying a bundle on her arm, then came Viserys, gaunt looking and lost, then Daenerys wearing not a gown but dothraki outfit with a lasso tucked in on her golden belt, beside her stands Margaery, who's like her mother in law has a bundle on her arms, then came Queen Rhaella, older, regal and dignified.

Barristan knows that from House Targaryen, four are missing on his dream but as soon as the thought occurred to him, his dream showed them to him, one by one.

He turned his head on the monstrous seat that was called the Iron Throne, from his standpoint, Barristan thought that the throne looks like a mouth of some fell beast, his teeth ready to tear anyone to pieces who will seat on it uneasy, unworthy and unprepared.

"Burn them!" came the voice of King Aerys.

Barristan remembered him as clear as that day when the Lannister knight stabbed him on the throne room. His Grace body is still marked by the blood from the wound he took from the golden sword of his supposedly protector.

To his horror, the knight saw the late king swallowed by the throne and Aerys screamed, screamed like never been before then as sudden as Aerys vanished came Rhaegar who Barristan remembered all too well. The king is wearing his famous black armor, and on his hands were the harp he so well loved, playing it one last time, filling the air with melancholic sound, making everyone weep with the song Jenny of Oldstones.

"My sons, Ser Barristan," said His Grace after he finished his play, now coughing up blood, "please save my sons."

Barristan felt himself crying as Rhaegar too, was eaten by the Iron Throne and then came the Usurper, who will bring the realm into ruin.

"This is my throne," he said firmly, "as it should have been."

And the cold came, the breeze coming from the north turning the sky outside the capital, dark and grey and with it the Others came, wreaking havoc on the Seven Kingdoms, killing as they go but then a thunderous noise came outside, wings beating and fires raining down on Kings Landing.

And then he saw a boy, atop the Iron Throne, with silver hair being blessed by the High Septon, kneeling and praying but when he turned to face his subjects, the face turned to a brown haired young man, who smiles like his sire that brought another set of tears on Barristan's eyes.

That's when he woke up, the sky is still dark outside and the morning breeze reminded him of his dream and that made him grab his sword, lying sideways on what appear to be a weirwood stump.

He listened as he unsheathe his sword, the seconds ticking by to an agonizingly slow pace as he waited for the monsters on his dream to appear but he only heard soldiers snoring, fire burning and the hushed voices of the sentry keeping guard.

"Strange dream," he said to himself as he dressed to his armor and rainments without the help of his squire, "I'm not an old done man," he muttered to himself.

The next hour, the camp was awake with the sound of men preparing to march to war.

The three knights Ser Barristan, Ser Brynden and Ser Davos were barking out commands to their men as dawn comes and by the time the first hint of light came, the army marched.

The scouts of Ser Brynden Tully came first of the line; next came the vanguard followed by Barristan's own main force then behind him came the baggage train and finally at the back headed by Ser Davos is the rear guard.

The soldiers rode their horses hard and the footmen marched harder as they made their way across the country side trampling everything on their path, leaving behind a trail of dust and horse shit.

They marched at day and stop to rest at night, every morning renewed their hope to arrive on the battlefield and join forces with the king and as the progressed on the countryside, signs of fighting were sighted.

Burned farm houses and destroyed fields and at the side of the road, mounds for the dead.

"And there will be more," said the knight as he saw crows flying overhead.

They marched for almost a fortnight until the Blackfish finally came back to report to him that the banners of House Targaryen has been seen at the castle called the Antlers, the seat of House Buckwell.

"But why? His Grace should have been on the field," said Barristan as he kicked the stirrups of his horse, making the intelligent animal race, leaving behind his squire riding his pony.

"Something must have happened," answered the Blackfish who is trotting beside him.

An hour later a scout from the Rhaegar's men ride out to meet them, carrying the standard of House Targaryen. When the scouts reach them, the knight leading the five party introduced himself as Ser Justin Massey of Stonedance, a large man with pink cheeks, blue eyes and a mop of blonde hair pale as flax. Barristan thought that he is fair and comely with a pleasing personality and a ready smile.

"The king have been expecting you, Ser Barristan," said the younger knight, "he awaits your pleasure at his tent just outside the castle.

"His Grace army retreated," said the Blackfish, "might I ask why?"

Barristan is dreading the answer but his worries have been lessened by the smile he got from the younger knight.
"Her Grace came so King Rhaegar have no choice but to pull back his armies on the field."

'Ah Lyanna,' thought Barristan, a smile forming on his lips on the prospect of seeing the two of them together again, "willful as ever.

They were escorted to the Rhaegar's pavillion as soon as they arrived on the city of tents, camped outside the small castle of House Buckwell. He saw familiar faces on the crowd, he nodded at some of them as a sign of acknowledgement and respect. His Grace was having a council inside the biggest pavilion ringed by the banners of the houses sworn to him and he was forced to halt the council, explaining to his lords that he needed to hear the report about his sister, Daenerys.

One by one, the lords left them in which Barristan gave a solemn acknowledgement as to not draw any slight and when all of them were finally gone, the knight was finally able to see His Grace and he thought that amidst the chaos on the realm, Rhaegar looked well but the black line under his eyes are hard to ignore.

"Barristan," he greeted him with a cool courtesy, standing up from his seat and walking closer towards him while his white brother, Ser Myles Mooton gave him a smile of relief, "did you bring back my sister?"

The mood changed as quickly as that.

"Apologies Your Grace," he answered, "I talked to her, begged her, to come back to us but the Princess fancied herself to marry a powerful dothraki horselord and was firm to stay where she is now. She told me she will be back with us on her own terms and time, there's nothing I can do, Your Grace."

The king was silent for a while and nodded his head once.

"Well there is nothing I can do as well," he said, "but a dothraki horselord? What has gotten into Dany's mind to marry such a man? Did you see him Ser, Daenerys husband?"

"I did Your Grace," he answered quickly, "a hulking man but strangely gentle to the Princess and clearly in love," he paused, "the Khal never lost a fight, I heard."

Barristan saw that it still didn't seat well with Rhaegar.

"Daenerys," said the King with the shake of his head and a sigh, "well what is done, is done," he sat on the nearest chair, looking pensive.

"I heard from Ser Justin that Her Grace is at the castle, Your Grace?" asked Barristan lightly, "I thought she was in Dragonstone?"

"She is here, we made it known that she's on Dragonstone to spread false information to our enemies but in truth, she was at Riverrun," answered Rhaegar, "Lyanna came because she is scared, when I heard the report that she arrived in the castle I needed to pull back my armies," the king gave another sigh and suddenly he looked far older than his age, "my lords is telling me to send her off to Dragonstone, command her if I must, I know they don't mean to make an insult but they are right about that thing."

"They are," agreed Ser Myles, "this is a distraction Your Grace, if we stay in our position, Robert and the fresh levies from the West might go and destroy the Hand's army."

Barristan didn't know there was already another army from the West.

"And our best chance to defeat them is to meet and destroy Lord Baratheon's army before Ser Kevan's fresh levies reach Lord Eddard's," it was a sound plan, "this is our best chance Your Grace, while Lord Tywin is busy watching the threat to Kings Landing by the Roseroad," then suddenly the voice of his white brother came almost to whisper, "Your Grace, we are in a very precarious situation, both Prince's missing, the Greyjoy's uncertain replies to our letters even Lord Bolton who only sent a quarter of his men from the summons of Lord Eddard, we all know that Roose Bolton believes the talk about the Tyrell's work on the death of his son and heir and these men, they are dangerous, if ...."

"I know that Ser Myles," answered the King bluntly, standing up on his seat and turning to look at his White Brother, "there is no need to lecture me about these, that's why I mean to send Lyanna back in Dragonstone as soon as possible."

It was nearing the end of the afternoon, the sun giving its last burst of light when Barristan saw the Queen. Kissing Rhaegar and laughing from some jest that her husband whispered on her ear before finally giving him away to his lords and her lady companions who are watching the exchange awkwardly and at the same time adoringly.

'Oh there was a time when the Queen would feel embarrassed to make a public display of attention with her husband the King but she got used to it soon enough.'

The knight can see that she is already heavily pregnant and like Rhaegar, there are dark lines under her eyes. It was now his time to guard Her Grace and Rhaegar motioned her towards him when he got a glimpse of his white armor. The king left them with the lords flocking to him and Lyanna, looking at her husband till His Grace disappeared, going outside the gates of the castle with Ser Richard taking his duty as a protector for the king.

"My Queen," he said kissing her hands, "I never thought to see you here."

"Well I am here, for my sons and the people fighting for me and my family," she answered coolly.

"As you say Your Grace," he replied, bowing, "but these lords fighting for us would feel safer if you are back in Dragonstone, behind its high halls."

Lyanna smiled when she heard his reply.

"Harren and his sons died inside the high halls of Harrenhal remember?" she said still with a cool courtesy and stubbornness of her people, "but of course I know, you and Rhaegar are right, I should leave for Dragonstone tonight."

Her Grace is accompanied by her lady companions, fresh faces from the Crownlands and the North it seems, as Barristan didn't know most of them. One more Targaryen knight is with her as well.

"Come walk with me, Ser," said the queen and Barristan obliged, taking her arm to his, as they started strolling on the garden on the afternoon dusk, "so Daenerys, a Khaleesi?" she started.

They are being followed by her lady companions and guarding the rear is the other Targaryen escort.

"She is, Your Grace," he answered, "and men and women are already flocking to her," he paused, a sad sigh tugging on his lips, "everywhere a Targaryen go, people would be drawn to them, but it was not always for good intentions---"

"I know very well," cut in Lyanna.

She is heavily pregnant that Barristan knows she is having a struggle to the weight of her belly.

"Might we seat?" she asked him.

"Of course, Your Grace," answered Barristan, leading her to the nearest stone bench on the garden.

Once seated, she dismissed her lady companions and commanded the other Targaryen knight to stand out of earshot that gave Barristan an intrigue impression.

"I must tell you the truth as well," she said all of a sudden.

"What is it, Your Grace?" he asked her, suddenly concerned when he heard the crack on her voice.

Lyanna took something from her sleeves, a letter with a broken seal from the Nightwatch.

"Cley Cerwyn, one of my sons companions and close friend, wrote to my husband...." then her voice broke and she couldn't stop her sobs and tears from falling.

When Barristan finally had the courage to take the letter and read it for himself, he was greatly shocked and was almost reduced to fear.

"The Crown Prince and his men had been overrun first by a band of wildlings who hid themselves on the burial site of the small village, north of the Wall, they overcome them eventually but what came next didn't."

His dreams of late came back haunting him and the knight suddenly felt cold, almost numb.

"I swear to the Old Gods of the North, the Gods of my father and of the Seven Faced Gods of the South, that a storm is coming, and with it, the dead, the Others. Whoever survived the wildling attack were taken down by the Others riding their monstrous ice spiders and army of wights."

It was a while when he finally found his voice.

"So these means Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell---"

"Are gone as well," Lyanna said and Barristan wipe away her tears.

"My Queen, I don't know what to say, the Others, my brothers," he said, sounding confused, "if Prince Jon did not survive the attack, then the throne would pass to the unborn babe of Lady Margaery."

"I do not care about the Others right now or even the damn Iron Throne," she said and if she could bare her fangs like the sigil of her house, Barristan thought that she would, "I care for the safety of my family," then the tears started falling again, "Jonothor, dead beyond the wall and Daeron, my poor sweet Daeron, burned just like my father," she paused, lost for breath, "I will never see them again."

Barristan couldn't do anything but to give his shoulder for Her Grace to cry on.

This was indeed perilous times for the line of Rhaegar and it did not prepare Barristan for what came next.

That night, Her Grace, the Queen, along with her lady companions and a strong guard were escorted to go to Maidenpool then to finally sail to the safety of Dragonstone by a firmer authority of Ser Myles Mooton. She's riding on a huge golden wheelhouse, pulled by seven strong horses.

The king watched her go even it was dark and did not move on the spot until his White Brother, Ser Richard Lonmouth spoke to him.

"Your Grace, your lords and ladies are waiting for you."

The king nodded and with Barristan and Richard guarding him, they made their way to the pavilion where they discussed the strategy for war.

It was all crashed when the Maester of House Buckwell came, a servant carrying a torch to light and guide the elderly man.
"Your Grace," said the maester, "my lords, a letter, from the Lord Hand."

Barristan walked the length of the long war table, going to the entrance of the pavilion and taking the sealed letter and then walking back to his king and putting the small piece of rolled parchment on his hand.

He waited for the expression of His Grace as he deftly break the seal of the direwolf of House Stark, unrolling the parchment and reading its contents and by the first seconds, Barristan saw from Rhaegar's facial expression that it was a grave news.

"Prepare the men," he said, "we will march as soon as we can."

"To where, my king?" asked Elbert Arryn.

"We will march to the Gods Eye, to Lord Eddard,"

"What about Lord Robert, Your Grace?" asked Lord Royce, "aren't we supposed to march to him?"

"We are my lord," answered Rhaegar, "Ser Kevan's fresh levies and Roberts army are there fighting the Northmen and the army of the lords of the trident as we speak, they are asking for a relief as they have been taken unaware by the two armies besieging them."

What came after were chaos, and much later a tragedy for the realm.

They did not reach the town of Gods Eye easily, for almost two days they ride hard and march like they never did before. Scouts from Lord Baratheon's army saw them beforehand and they came steel to steel with the enemy soon enough. Archers rain down arrows as they near the Gods Eye Town and once they got a look of the poor town, it was all burnt but the walls surrounding it were strong enough to protect the Northern army as well as the men under the banners of the lords of the trident to be overrun by the enemy.

A fighting inside the town now broke out as Ser Kevan's army penetrates the western entrance while Lord Robert is still trying to break in to its southern gate.

Rhaegar's left wing received the bulk of Lord Robert's assembled rear guard while His Grace commanded the cavalry to open a line for the main force to make their way on the entrance of the besieged town and hopefully, the scouts of Lord Eddard at the top of the ramparts of the walls can see the royal army and opens the gates for them.

"Strike hard and true!" said the king to the men, "this fight will determine our future, go forth to war!" he paused, his sword raised, his black armor almost absorbing the light of the afternoon sun, "to war!"

And the men pick up the cry and like the Targaryen sigil, the cavalry led by Elbert Arryn descended on the forming lines of Lord Robert. The vale men opened a line for them to enter and leading the main force, the king kicked the stirrups of his war horse and rode forth.

Barristan rode beside his king, always keeping him on his sight, defending him if needs to be but Rhaegar can hold his own, as he slay men that's on his way left to right.

All around them, banners were flapping in the air, it covered the sky at some point as the fighting thickens as they neared the southern entrance of the town.

"Push forward!" cried out the knight as he look out for his king, "make way for His Grace!"

And the men obliged. They moved forward, in great numbers as the main force push from the middle. Barristan saw Lord Yohn Royce killing a man sworn to some marcher lord, Ser Richard Lonmouth clashing with a knight and Ser Donnel Waynwood fighting side by side with one of his brothers.

As the fighting drags on, there was suddenly a creak of wood from the southern gate and pouring out were the Northen armies led by Lord Jon Umber, shouting "Last Hearth!"

Barristan slayed one hedge knight trying to make his way to kill Rhaegar and when he turned to look at the southern gate, he saw that Lord Robert's men are firm to push their army inside as their own cavalry pushed pass the northern footmen.

'What is Robert doing?' he asked himself, 'he ought to pull back his army and join Ser Kevan's on the western side of the town but he didn't heard any command to pull back and retreat.'

"We need to get inside," the king reined in beside him.

"We will, Your Grace," answered the knight then he kicked the stirrup of his horse, "continue pushing forward!"

It was a slow descent as the shape of the land goes sloping down and they did passed the gate. Dead bodies littered the ground, the hooves of their horses trampling the dead and the dying as they passed the archway that was the southern entrance and once inside the town, Barristan felt the smoke heavy on the air.

"My lord, where is Lord Stark?" asked the king when they passed by Lord Blackhood, who is fighting with his men.

"I believe the Lord Hand is with my liege by the river," Lord Tytos replied, Rhaegar quickly rode towards the direction of the water while Lord Blackhood stopped Barristan for one second, "Ser, my son, Hoster, is he safe?"

"I left him with the other squires guarding the baggage train my lord, I believe he is safe," Barristan quickly answered, "I must keep going," he said as the knight saw that his king's horse is already trotting ahead.

He did not wait for the permission of the river lord to go as he kicked the stirrups of his war horse to follow his liege but suddenly men sworn to Storms End and Tarth blocked his way. There was nothing he could do but to fight his way through them, they were younger men, faster and quicker and hungry for glory and that was their undoing as the knight cut one from his navel going to his chest, the blood pouring out like some red wine while the other man charged to him.

He parried the attack and when the Tarth soldier lost the grip on the pommel of his sword, Barristan knocked him out of his horse and gave a backhand stroke, diving the point of his sword at the back of the man, killing him.

"Yaaah!" he kicked the stirrups of his war horse and continued his way to the direction of the water.

The town is in chaos and he heard war horn being blown from outside the town walls and someone shouting retreat but as he get closer to the lake, he heard the clashing of swords, horses neighing and the splash of water as the fighting continue on the Gods Eye.

His vision caught a black armor as well as a familiar gold with its infamous mighty antlers and there on the water, with the isle of faces on the far side of the lake, two men in a single combat.

Barristan jumped down from his horse, running to aid his king as the two figures exchange deathly blows; Rhaegar with his sword and Robert with his war hammer.

All around them, men are fighting as well but the knight's eyes are turned only to the gold and black, almost drawn to them and scared; scared for the life of his king as Robert gained the upper hand.

Barristan gave a helpless cry as the storm lord parried the attack of Rhaegar and using the crook of his war hammer, he was able to disarm the Targaryen king. The knight kept running, hoping that he will arrive in time but it was hopeless, he will not make it.

"Die!" Robert said, almost maniacally as he swung his war hammer, driving it hard to the chest of His Grace. The sound of the war hammer meeting the armor was almost deafening and Rhaegar fell on the water.

"Rhaegar!" cried out the knight as the water reaches his thighs, making it impossibly harder to wade his way to where the king was swallowed by the lake, never to float again on his first fall.

Everyone heard his cry and when they saw what happened, the men sworn to the king became fierce, blood on their eyes. Barristan saw that a knight on a green armor even went charging to Lord Robert.

"Rhaegar," he muttered as he finally reach him and lifted the man up from the lake.

Blood is dripping from the mouth of the king, and his eyes were shut.

"Rhaegar please, don't leave us!"

And then the king opened his eyes.

"My brother and sister, my mother," then he coughed up blood, his purple eyes dilated with fear, "my sons and my unborn babe," another series of cough, weak and dying the king was, "my love, Lya-- Lyanna."

A cruel jape by the gods, they won the fight but they lost their king.

Chapter 19: Jonothor III

Notes:

Ah it's so nice to have the rhythm of my writing back and I hope it don't leave me again. As promised, I updated for the second time this month. Hopefully on the month of June, I will be able to update three times so here we are with Jon's 3rd POV chapter. I hope y'all will enjoy this and please don't forget to say your thoughts on the comment section below. Thank all!

Chapter Text

The wind is blowing hard and biting on his skin and the weather was too cold that on their first night after the massacre at Whitetree village, he almost froze to death. He was shaking uncontrollably and it was worse because they wouldn't make a fire to warm them as Jon heard the men around him say that the dead are still on the woods.

'It was not only the cold,' he thought, his emotions pointing to dread, 'I saw all my men die in front of me, my friends, my protectors and I couldn't do anything.'

Another fit of chill came over him and Jon, for the first time of his life, prayed to the nameless gods of the North to let him survive and they answered, as a warm body lay next to him.

It was the wildling woman with a red hair, a skinny little thing but Jon accepted the warmth all the same until sleep has taken over him.

When he woke up the next day, the storm had passed but they are still on some path of the valley cliffs that protected them from anything that's below on the ground. He sat upright, shaking and feeling hopeless.

"HAR!" came the voice of a man with a mane of red hair, "first time beyond the Wall?" he was intently watching him.

"Yea," he answered, shaking, "I never properly thanked you for saving me."

The group of wildlings laughed at his face.

"You are thanking us for attacking your men and killing them," said one of the free folk unkindly, nodding his head appreciatively.

"Truth is, we did not save you out o' goodness o' our hearts, princeling," said a small man with a knobby chin, thin mustache and pinched cheeks, wearing an armor that's made up of loosely-tied bones that clatter as he moves, "Mance Rayder wants ya."

"The King Beyond the Wall," said Jon more to himself.

"That man," laughed the red headed man, "HAR! You are lucky the dead did not kill you first."

"Aye," answered another one who is sitting outside the circle of wildlings facing Jon, "his men died for him, I saw it from above."

Then suddenly an eagle flew overhead, cawing and making its presence known.

"This one is Orell a skinchanger, princeling. I trust him not but he is useful to us, his bird found this pass above the valley," informed the man with an armor made of bones.

"And what is your name?" Jon asked him.

"Can't you guess?" asked the wildling woman who lay with him the night before.

Now looking at her in the sunlight, Jon thought that her eyes are pretty in blue, reminding him of his cousin Sansa.

"Lord of Bones," guessed Jon correctly, he heard tales of the men of the Nightswatch about the reputation of the man, the wildlings and the Black Brothers calls him Rattleshirt as well, "gods its cold."

"HAR! Here, take this southron princeling," said the wildling with a mane of red hair.

He gave Jon a cloak of sewn bearskin that he accepted more than willingly and it immediately made his body warm.

"Thank you," he said to the wildling man but they seem to turn their attention with Rattleshirt and the man named Orell as the two starts having a conversation.

"They are still out there," said Orell, "I don't know why but they seem to follow us because of him."

The ragged band of wildlings turned to look at the Crown Prince.
"Why, what is so special about him?" asked a short man with a homely face.

"Well for sure he is not as well-endowed as you Ryk," then the red head man laughed at his own jest that seem to wake up all the creatures inside the forest below them.

"Well for one he knows his way around his sword, I saw him kill Jarl," answered the wildling woman.

"Val will not be pleased, she adored that fucker," concluded the read headed man, fixing Jon with a hard stare.

"And a direwolf is following us as well," added Orell, "might be I'm not the only skinchanger around here."

Jon saw the sword Dawn and his own sword being carried by the small man named Ryk, wrapped tightly on a number of animal skins and as they move on forward, he tried learning the names of each of the band of wildlings that were with him.

The wildling with a mane of red hair is called Tormund Giantsbane, the wildling woman is Ygritte and there are three other men who promised to geld him if he asked them questions again.

"We are not kneeler," said one of the wildling who don't want to give up his name, "now fuck off and walk like a little lord before I push you off this cliff."

"Those three are cousins," said Ygritte when the three men overtake them, "they all tried to steal me but I drove them away," she leaned in to him, "they are weaklings, I don't need a weak lover."

When Jon turned to look at her, as they follow a narrow path going down to the valley floor, he saw her looking intently at him, caught, she stared to look away and left him soon after.

Tormund fell in beside him on her place after that.

"HAR! Ygritte likes ya," he said, "that one likes a strong man as she is strong herself, good with axe and bone dagger and deadly with her arrows," the wildling man continued, "spearwives like her wants men who can give them strong sons."

"I am a married man," he answered, remembering Margaery and their unborn babe, wondering if he will see her again, "I said my vows in front of a heart tree."

"Oh," said Tormund, clearly surprised, "might be she'll steal ya from her," he paused as they descend on a sharp turn, "your wife can fight?"

"No," answered Jon, "but she is clever and daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell, the Warden of the South, her house, House Tyrell, can field a hundred thousand soldiers and is known as the chivalry of the south," he paused, looking at Tormund, seeing him paying attention to what he says, he expected otherwise, "she don't need to fight, great men begs to fight for her honor and favor."

"HAR!" said Tormund, who doesn't seem to be impressed, "you should have find a Stark woman," he said surprising Jon, "we heard a story about this tourney on a dark and cursed castle, the biggest castle in the south, where a she-wolf beat three knights upon her pony and a weirwood stick, ahh, that's a woman I want to marry."

He was talking about her mother but Jon did not say anything, he is sure that Tormund don't actually know him and he wants to stay it that way.

When they reach the frozen forest at the floor of the valley, they followed a half frozen stream that wounds it way around the valley and keeping their distance away from the darkness of the trees. They walked for hours until Jon thought that wildlings are made of firmer stuff, never getting hungry or tired, but he was proven wrong and felt glad when Tormund called for a halt an hour later.

"HAR! Are you going to kill us, Lord of Bones?"

"No but I'm trying to prevent us from being killed by the dead, Tormund," countered the smaller man.

"Well I say, if we die now better we have something on our belly," countered the red headed man.

To Jon's surprise, they agreed with Tormund.

"Prepare fire then," said the Lord of Bones, "Orell, keep watch."

Jon helped the band of wildlings to prepare the fire and once it's already burning, he also helped Ryk and Ygritte to skin five rabbits that Ygritte said she took from one of the empty wildling villages.

"You like rabbits princeling?" asked Ygritte, who is rather staring at him with a fixed conviction more than to the critter she is skinning.

"Who doesn't," he answered giving her a half smile.

"Your wife, she is clever, in wha' way?" she asked all of a sudden that Jon needed to comprehend what she just said.

"Ygritte here wants to steal you from her," Ryk jested.

"And wha' if I do," she snapped back at the other wildling man, "you are m' brother but somet'mes I really want to cut tha' tongue of yours."

Jon watched the exchange in silence as he continues to skin the rabbit. After that they spit roasted it on the fire and when it was agreeable to eat, Ygritte gave everyone their share. As everyone is devouring their food, Jon sat on one side, adopting quickly on how the Free Folk are eating, it was easy for him to follow; savagely bite through the meat, give a few chew and swallow much to the approval of Tormund.

"We'll make a wildling o' you yet, HAR!" he laughed and he almost choked on his food.

"So you are living in some fancy castle down south?" asked Ryk curiously when the laughter died down.

"I do," Jon nodded solemnly.

"Bigger than the Wall?" asked Yrgitte innocently.

Jon did not replied and only took in the expression of the wildling woman Ygritte; who was two years older than him, who already stole men of her liking, a warrior and a spearwife, but at that moment, seems to be younger than that of his little brother Daeron.

"The Wall is not a castle," he corrected her, "you haven't seen any castle Ygritte?"

The wildling woman has a grace to blushed.

"No one here except you had seen any southron castles," said the Lord of Bones, "we live on cottages and huts, farmed the frozen land and hunted the forest."

Jon became thoughtful for a moment, watching the circle of wildlings around him. He wanted to tell them that if they like, they could come with him and see the kingdoms of the south, to eat peach and melons, cod fish and trout, auroch and boar but he decided against it, knowing that this Mance Rayder might as well kill him anyways.

"We must move," said the skinchanger Orell, interrupting their talk, "we only have a few hours until the light fades on us."

So they moved on but this time, Ryk and Tormund are now talking with him, Ygritte keeping her distance on an earshot. Jon thought that they are all curious about the south and what lies south of the Wall. He told them about Winterfell, the Barrowlands, the Neck, the Riverlands, Kings Landing, Highgarden, Casterly Rock, Runestone and many more famous castles mentioned in songs of old. Hours later, Orell informed them that he sighted wildling raiders.

"Mance?" asked Rattleshirt.

"Yes," answered the skinchanger, "they are bound to the clearing where the three weirwood trees are rooted on their vigil."

They entered the darkness of the forest, leaving the safety of the winding path of the river and the late afternoon's remaining sunlight. Inside where the trees rules, it feels like already twilight and Jon couldn't help himself to look around the sentinel of trees, of the darkness that covers them, wondering if the dead are there.

'They are,' he said to himself, 'watching and waiting to strike.'

Inside the forest, they kept their silence. Only their boots hitting snow and mud can be heard and for an hour they carved their way through tangles of roots and frozen streams and finally heard the huffs and curses of the approaching raiders.

They met on the clearing where on the middle stands three weirwoods with their own unique faces, all facing three directions. Jon studied the faces, one of which looks solemn, the other looks hard and the last looks in agony.

When the other group of wildlings finally came into view,it was led by the king and Jon thought that Mance is a slender of build, middling of height, but broader in the chest and shoulder and taller than the Lord of Bones. He has shrewd brown eyes and a long face with brown hair with streaks of gray.

'He doesn't look like a king,' thought the Crown Prince, eyeing the stranger.

The wildlings greeted each other and Jon stayed on the sidelines, watching the rough exchange between the men and woman of the Free Folk. Mance brought with him seven other wildlings, six men and two spearwives.

"So Alfyn did not survive," said Mance and to Jon's ears, he sounded disappointed.

"He didn't," answered Rattleshirt, "the fool thought tha' he could match one o' the white knights," he shook his head, "he's brave but that got him cut in half."

"Darkness is upon us," said Orell, interrupting the exchange, "we better get to the high places."

"Lead the way," said the king and they all obliged.

By this time, only Longspear Ryk is walking beside the Crown Prince but usually the two of them would just listen to Mance, Tormund and Rattleshirt.

"Tell me, what happened when the Others came?" said Mance.

"Our lines broke and fled when they came, most o' them dead already. We need to leave 'em behind coz you said there is nothing more important than to take the princeling captive."

Jon looked away when the two wildlings turned to look at him.

"Not all of the men who went with you died," answered Mance as they arrived at the edge of the forest and to the frozen river where on the other side, the ominous mountain cliffs stood, "two dozen arrived at the camp, wounded and telling a story that Harma believed, she claimed she felt the cold that night when the Others attacked the village."

"The bitch is righ'," said the Lord of Bones, unkindly.

Jon heard from the men of the Nightswatch that Rattleshirt and Harma warred with each other before Mance Rayder united them and all the clans of the Free Folk to form his kingdom, but united or no, he thought that from the sound of Rattleshirt's agreement, his hate for he wildling woman is still there, never forgotten.

"We must climb now," said Orell when they reach the bottom of the cliffs.

And climb they did. It was a long way up and Jon was amazed how the first three raiders climb the ragged cliff, like some monkey from Summer Isle as the rest waited at the bottom of the cliff. It was already dark when the ropes have been thrown down to them and by three, they climbed.

Ygritte and Ryk helped him with his harness when it was his turn and he thanked them for it.

"Race you to the top princeling?" asked Tormund.

"No," he answered the giant of a man.

"HAR!" answered the wildling and he climbed fast, leaving Jon and the other wildling behind.

It was late that night when they were finally able to made camp at the top of the cliff, to everyone's delight, Mance and his men brought a piece of a game that they all shared in the fire. Jon was well away from the company of wildlings, only Ygritte, Ryk and Tormund visits him from his spot outside the circle of Free Folk.

"This castle of yours," asked Ygritte, "what its name again? Is it Winterfell?"

"No," answered Jon, "its called---"

"Dragonstone," cut in Mance Rayder and for the first time, he made noticed of Jonothor, "if I am not mistaken."

"No, you are right, Your Grace," said Jon,

Mance Rayder gave a bark of laughter, much to the confusion of his men. Even Tormund gave an awkward laugh, trying to learn the jest that he thinks was there, joining his liege.

"Your Grace," said Mance, now standing from his seat, walking towards Jon, all eyes on the two of them, "a title that's worthy of you, Prince Jonothor."

"Some will argue," countered Jon.

"Do all of you have any bit of knowledge who this man is?" asked Mance, looking at his men, "anyone, a guess?"

"A southron prince," it was Tormund and Jon couldn't help but to be amused by him.

"There are seven southron princes, as far as I know," said Mance, looking at his men, "and this one right here is the only one that matters."

"Why?" asked one of his men.

"He is the Crown Prince, the heir to the Iron Throne," answered Mance, "he rules from the castle of Dragonstone, an ancient valyrian outpost while his father seats on the Iron Throne. He will be a king after his father die."

"Not for a long time," said Jon.

"Not for a long time," agreed Mance.

"So what can he do for our cause, Mance?" asked the Lord of Bones.

Mance fixed Jon a stare.

"Oh, he can do a lot, but it will wait till we arrive on the camp with all our people."

Jon already has an idea what Mance Rayder really wanted from him and who can blame the man? If the Free Folk is his people he would also want to try and save them from an imminent slaughter, to a foe far ancient and deadly than all the enemies of the Crown combined.

They stayed up for another three hours with three wildlings taking the first watch as everyone prepare to sleep. Jon covered himself with the bearskin cloak given by Tormund, backing up on the stone wall that also protects them from the harsh wind. Before drifting off to sleep, he saw Ygritte looking at him and the wildling woman turned away when he caught her, blushing.

'Oh she is a sweet thing,' said Jon to himself, remembering his vows to Margaery, 'but I am a married man now.'

He remembered the words of his father the King, not so long ago at the tourney in White Harbor.

"Jonothor, you will be a king someday," then his father paused, giving him a serious look, "and your duty to the realm is not something you play with, as well as the heart of the woman you will marry."

It was a bitter and sweet memory. Two days before the tourney, Daenerys left for Essos, with his father's own war galley. Jonothor couldn't guess how the princess swayed the crew of the ship to betray his father and take her to the sea.

'Well she knows her way around men,' he thought sadly, remembering their first night together, 'she knows her way around me as well.'

His last thoughts before going to sleep is of his family; of his mother Lyanna, his brother Daeron, his cousins, his wife Margaery, Queen Rhaella, Prince Viserys, Dany and most importantly his father. He is in deep thought about him that when he dreamed, he saw him playing a high harp, filling the air with sweetness and sadness but after his long and delicate finger strung the harp giving a long mournful sound that seeps through his head, his father's eyes opened and whispered to him that he should wake up.

"Jon, wake up."

He opened his eyes then, the small hair on his back rising on their own accord. It was two hours after midnight and the darkness in the world have settled on the ground, it was only the moon and the stars that's giving light for anyone to see and what Jon saw is that everyone on the camp are asleep, the embers of fire flickering weakly in front of him. To his horror he did not hear nor feel the wind but the cold.

Cold that even Tormund's bearskin cloak can't keep away and that's when he saw the darkness around them, darkness that seems to be slowly eating the already weak light that surrounds them.

Jon suddenly felt nervous, he felt this before, when the Others came for him and his men then he saw the other wildlings stirring from their sleep, probably because they felt the same cold.

Mance stirred, glancing from the lump of bodies around him and on Jonothor's right, where the trees give way to the mountain slopes of the cliffs, he heard a rustling of leaves; one, two, three.

The wildlings are now all awake, fetching their cruel swords and Ryk went to his side, giving him his.

"Make fire," whispered Mance, his breath giving a wisp of smoke, "faster!"

Jon never saw who made the flame but when it was finally cackling weakly, to his horror, he saw faces on the darkness.

"Gods," said the the wildlings, "the dead are here!"

And as if on cue, one by one, the faces in the darkness came to the light of the fire and Jon couldn't help but shed a single tear as he saw them.

"My men," he said, wide eyed.

He realized now that the dead are the last of his men to die in battle, led by Daryn Hornhood before he and the Lord Commander left them, to hold their rear.

'Follow us as soon as you can,' he told Daryn and the Hornhood heir reply to him now made sense, 'I will.'

And the fighting started, they were outnumbered but the living has a purpose to fight more than the dead and all of them fought like it's their last, it is for some of them. He saw Tormund fighting savagely, as well as Ryk, Mance is fighting side by side with a wildling from the clan of Thenn and Ygritte is also there, supporting everyone with her bow and arrows.

Jon crossed swords with almost a dozen, familiar faces he ate with, talked with, drunk with and fought with and the tears finally came flowing when he finally saw Daryn, revealing himself from the darkness of the trees, fulfilling his promise in the end.

The crusted blood on his chest said that the Hornhood boy died of a stab wound, everything was the same except his eyes, the once brown color of it have turned blue.

"Daryn," Jon said, stepping back, "please," his once friend paid him no heed, but he continued advancing towards him, slowly at first, as the fighting around them continues and Jon backed away, until his foot caught a stone, making him fall on his back.

And then two arrows flew by, one hitting Daryn on the same wound he got before dying and the other to his neck, with such force that the dead man lost his balance.

It was Ygritte who saved him and she run towards him, helping him to stand. Jon was too shaken, his eyes were looking at the men, dead and dying around them and suddenly the chill that almost killed him that night the Lord of Bones saved him came back.

"What are you doing talking to the dead," she shook him, angry and fierce, "dead don't talk princeling."

And to Jon's horror, he saw the corpse of Daryn stood up again behind her, now a dagger on his hand, ready to stab Ygritte who shot him twice, a cold and slow vengeance. He yelled out a warning but it was too late, the small wildling woman was stabbed twice, one near her right shoulder blade and another to her lower back, before Jon pushed her safely away and wrestled with the Hornhood boy on the ground.

Jon felt the cold on him and his eyes are the color of a blue star from the darkest of the night sky. He did not remember Daryn being so strong but he is now and he easily changed their positions, now the Hornhood boy is on top of him, his bare hands finding his way to his neck, but Jon fought on their brawl, Daryn scratched his face with his long and unwashed and uncut nails.

He felt himself losing as his energy dwindled, if its because of the cold, Jon couldn't be sure but suddenly he is being choked to death.

He started gasping and as the seconds tick by, his brain seems to pulse as it screams for a much needed air as well as his lungs.

He tried crying for help but he guessed that everyone around him, men are also dying and so he resigned to his fate, giving up and limply laying his hands on the ground, Daryn heavy and cold on top of him but all of a sudden, he heard a snarl and came a white blur on his vision, more like a ghost who swept Daryn away from his hold of the Crown Prince.

Jon gasped for air like he never did before. He coughed up blood and spit out some before finally able to regain a semblance of sense.

He was shaking as he turned to look at the direwolf, who now tore away half of Daryn's face.

"Ghost," he muttered then the white direwolf seems to hear him and his new savior turned to look at him, eyes red like the red on the faces of the heart tree, and intelligent, then he heard someone coughing and he finally saw the dying Ygritte, not far away from him and the direwolf.

He crawled towards her, scared that another soul will die because of him and once he reach her, Jon cradled her on his arms.

"It's ok," he said, "you're good, this will be over soon Ygritte."

"I don't want to die," said the small wildling woman and then looking at her, Jon thought that in that moment, she is only a child, an innocent child, curious about the world she will never see.

"You will not die," Jon said, crying, "you will not die Ygritte, please, you will come with me in the south and see Dragonstone," he weeps, "Kings Landing, Oldtown, and you will steal a man of your own fancy," he paused, "Ygritte, hold on."

"I wish," she said, interrupted when she coughs more blood, "you know nothing, princeling."

Jon couldn't tell how or when they left the sight of massacre but when he came to his senses, Tormund is carrying him on his back almost effortless despite his weight. From their their previous number of sixteen, all that remained are less than half; Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, the Lord of Bones, Longspear Ryk, one of the cousins who did not gave their names to him and the soldier from the clan of Thenns and then Jon.

The sight of the wildling camp cheered the survivors though little, despite what happened to them but gave a cautious welcome from the Free Folk. They did not like one bit their ragged looks and the missing companions and they started throwing them questions once they finally could.

"Wha' happened?"

"Wher' the others?"

"Is that the prince?"

Mance paid them no mind but barked out commands to the sentries and commanders who are present on their arrival.

"We must be ready to march," said the King-Beyond-the-Wall, "double the numbers of the sentry and put a ring of fire around the camp when dusk comes, and tell the clan chiefs I want them all on my pavilion urgently," his commands were answered with grumblings but in the end, men obliged.

After that, Jon tapped Tormund and told him he can walk.

"You sure, princeling?"

"I am," he answered.

He was unceremoniously brought down by the wildling man.

They continued to walk towards the heart of the muddy camp and as they stroll passed crude tents, Jon saw different clans of the Free Folk such as Hornfoots, the Nightrunners, men of the Frozen Shore, the cannibal Ice-River Clans and the cave dwellers of the mountains and the Thenn's who is obviously more disciplined from their counterparts. There are others as well, Free Folks who don't belong to any clans, loners who watch them pass by and to Jon's amazement, giants riding mammoths. With their combined numbers and with right discipline, Jon knows these people can create an economy from the lands of his father; he needed to remember that for what is coming.

They finally arrived at the kings tent for more than half an hour of walking. Jon thought that it don't actually look like it belonged to any king but it does qualify for its size that can fit fifty people at max. Inside, the clan chiefs and Free Folk of importance are already waiting.

Mance made his way to a pregnant wildling woman who looks rather simple and with a kind face. It was the other one, who is standing beside her that caught Jon's attention.

A woman of surpassing loveliness, beautiful with long blond hair, the color of dark honey, she has a high cheekbones and eyes which appear to be pale grey or blue, which depends of the light that caught it, a slender woman with full blossom, the wildling caught him looking at her and she smiled.

It has been a long while since Jon had seen a sight so lovely but then he felt guilty again, and reminded himself why he rejected Ygritte.

He tightened his resolve and glanced over the people inside the pavilion, all ragged looking and confused, Jon thought that some are even afraid. There was no chair save for the pregnant wife of the king.

"Where are the others?" asked one of the clan chiefs.

"Dead," it was the Lord of Bones, "we were attacked last night."

A silence fell on them until Mance spoke.

"Many will die more once the true winter comes," said the king, "we must march."

"And go where?" asked another chief.

"South, where else," answered Tormund.

"Good luck with that," said a chieftainess, "the Wall will prevent us and the Crows will be there to slaughter us and if by chance we passed by them, the Stark's will finally deal with us and drive us back here, beyond the Wall, where we belong and where the Others and the wights will finally put an end for us."

Jon felt the dread inside the tent and he saw the scared look of Mance wife to her husband while smoothing the swell on her belly, reminding him of Margaery's own pregnancy as well as his own mother.

"They will let you through," he finally spoke, remembering Ygritte with her dreams of seeing the castles of the south.

Everyone turned to look at him, some are scowling, others curious and a few are dead serious.

"And you are?" asked the chieftainess.

"This one is the King's son, Karsi," answered Mance Rayder for him, his expression firm, "in exchange for his life, he will command the Nightswatch to open their tunnels for us."

Jonothor knows that Mance knew as well that he don't have that power, he knows that he is just giving his people some hope, a small hope of survival.

"I don't have that power, at least not yet," he confessed, giving them no false pretenses, "I am only a prince, the heir of my father and the Nightswatch is not part of the Seven Kingdoms where House Targaryen rules," he eyed everyone, "but I know the Lord Commander, Lord Mormont, a reasonable man and not cruel, if I talk to him and laid down your cause, I believe he will be swayed."

"We don't trust the Crows," countered the Lord of Bones.
"And they don't trust you as well," said Jon rather too sharply, "but your people needs them," he gestured everyone inside the pavilion, "the Free Folk need the Wall to save them from what's coming."

"We know what's coming," said Mance wife, "that's the reason why all of us are here."

"Some of us hear fought them already," joined in Mance, "and we know all too well that this is a foe we cannot fight alone by ourselves."

Centuries of fighting against the Nightswatch gave the Free Folk doubts, Jon can see it on their faces but he need to make them realize, that this is the most important decision that they must do for their people but how to make them see?

"There are free lands in the North and even in the South that the Free Folk can farm, forest to hunt and villages where your children can grow up and have a family of their own," he told them, trying to use their pride and sense of familial bond as an advantage, "I will arrange the fighting men of the Free Folk, to help defend the Wall against the coming storm while you're the old, the sick, the children and the women that will not fight will be given a safe place to sit out the storm."

There was a commotion of disagreements, but not all of the chieftains disagreed with the offer to Jon's relief.

"You would have us kneel to you," said one of the older wildling chieftain.

"I will not require you to kneel," answered Jon, "but you must promise me that the Free Folk will follow the rules of the lords where they will be sent to for safety," he paused, "these decisions you need to take, discuss it with your people, stay here and die like some swines for slaughter, and addition to the Others army of thralls or come with me, to fight them and if we die, at least we die together and with honor," he eyed all of them and suddenly he realized that they are hanging with his every words, "I will do all of these, for your people who dreams of seeing the south," he remembered Ygritte, "for your people who wants to have a family of their own, think about it."

There was silence until Mance wife finally stood up from her seat, holding her husband's hand tightly while the king glance on each of the clan chiefs.

"This must be done," said Mance afterwards, now walking towards Jon and to his surprise, the wildling man knelt to him, "I, Mance Rayder, leader of the Free Folk, pledges himself and all my people to you."

He was caught off guard, if he say yes, the responsibility to save them all will fall to him but what options do he have but to accept?

"I accept your fealty, stand, my lord Mance."

By dusk, everyone was already preparing for the long march to the Wall while a smaller number of Free Folk will sail to the East Watch by the Sea, bearing the Crown Prince letter so that the Nightswatch will not fire arrows at them when they came knocking at Castle Black.

Tormund gave him his own tent to use and as Jon put on a wildling clothing, an unannounced visitor came as he fasten the lace of his shirt.

She found out later that it was the Dalla's sister, the girl named Val.

"Do you need help?" she asked him.

"No," answered Jon.

"Don't lie to me Dragon lord," she said as she made her way towards him, "you'll die of cold if you these are not properly arranged."

And he let her finish the work and waited for her to speak. They were so close that one move and he could claim her right here and then.

"You got scars on your face," it was her first words after she did the work of lacing everything.

"Yes, I'm afraid salves will not remove them," answered Jon.

"No, a scar is very important for a man, you should not remove it," she answered, eyeing him, "it makes you look more fearsome."

She is standing in front of him, their breath mingling on the air and Jon couldn't help but to swallow the lump on his throat as he saw the intensity of her character, "you are nervous," she observed.

'God's be damned, who is this girl?' he thought.

"My lady," it was a weak attempt to hide the huskiness of his voice, "to what I owe this pleasure of your visit."

To his relief, Val finally moved away, observing him from a small distance.

"You killed Jarl," she said.

"I did," he answered, "or else he would have killed me."

"He was my lover," she said then she turned to look at him, "so what should I do with you?"

Chapter 20: Daenerys IV

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The delicate princess who grew up in Kings Landing, protected by the Knights of the Kingsguard, his brother the king and all the great lords and ladies sworn to her house, the House Targaryen of old Valyria, seems to have died the day she married her ‘Shekh Ma Shieraki Anni’ (My sun and stars), Khal Drogo.

The celebration was held at the vast expanse of land of Khal Drogo’s manse that was given to her husband by the Magisters of Pentos, like an offering, to spare the city of a possible devastation from his powerful horde of forty thousand dothraki screamers.

Her wedding was not considered a dull affair. Everyone agreed, at least 5 men died fighting for mount, pride and woman. But they were all there to see her wed Drogo, the Khal of a great Dothraki screamers and she is now his khaleesi.

Daenerys only knowledge about the dothraki in nature, thought to her by the Grand Maester of the Red Keep, is that they are savages, they kill men for sport and has lust to always fight and conquer all the cities in Essos but now that she is living with them, she learned there are more to them than what the descriptions of some dusty old books and scripts notably her khal, whom she found to be gentle with her and is respected by his people and his friends and has a fearsome reputation to his enemies as well.

After a week from their marriage, the khalasar have been on the move to ride to Vaes Dothrak or the City of Riders on the common tongue where she will be presented to the dosh khaleen which are a group of dothraki crones who are all former khaleesis, the wives of the khals that died and she must be accepted by these women that holds great status and esteem to her people to complete her status as a khalessi.

“What if they don’t accept me?” she asked the khal on a dothraki language.

“They will,” he replied to her that first night they left Pentos behind.

They were lying together that time on the khal’s tent, her insides still aching from the lovemaking they did together.

Daenerys did not imagine she’ll have a khal for a husband. She always thought that as a Targaryen princess, her duty to her house and king would eventually led her to marry one of King Rhaegar’s most important banner men to strengthen military ties.

The possible match presented to her through the years of her stay on the capital were Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell, Willas Tyrell, the heir to Highgarden, Harrold Arryn, the heir to the Eyrie, Edmure Tully, the heir to Riverrun and the queen, Lyanna Stark even proposed to her a possible match of Domeric Bolton, the heir to Dreadfort but Daenerys always suspected that she will be needed to secure Dorne, like her brother Viserys, to marry one of the Dornish prince but it never came to be.

She is now here, half a world away, leading her husband’s khalassar back to their city. Along the way, she earned not only gold and treasures but also people, both high of birth and low, promising her allegiance and support.

First and foremost are the three servants that was given to her as a wedding gift; Jhiqui, who is tutoring her for the dothraki tongue, Irri for horse riding and Doreah for lovemaking all in the passion of dothraki. They were her constant companions and a great help to her as she starts to adjust to the life of being a khaleesi and as a wife to a khal.

Next are the dornish men who tried persuading her to join the westerosi war siding with the usurper Aegon when they arrived at Pentos. Daenerys was hesitant at first to accept their oaths and pledges but Prince Quentyn promised her that he will be her most trusted adviser and shield if needs to be along with his dornish companions; Cletus Yronwood, Ser Gerris Drinkwater, Ser William Wells, Ser Archival Yronwood and the tutor, Maester Kedry, all kneeling in front of her and her new people as she was about to turn them away again but then seeing their sincerity, especially the dornish prince, she accepted his support.

Last but not the least is the man that was promised by Illyrio who turned out to be Harry Strickland, the Captain of the Golden Company who are numbered to be about ten thousand men and the captain, a portly man, promised another ten thousand being trained to fight for her name.

“Why should I accept these men?” she asked Illyrio, after he presented the Golden Company to her, “these are men who fought against my house for centuries, their founder is from House Blackfyre and I don’t trust them at all.”

The Magister led her to the side of the receiving hall of his great manse where no one could hear them.
“Khaleesi, black or red, a dragon is still a dragon,” he whispered to her, “most of these men comprise of Westerosi exiled knights and soldiers, some of them has been born on the company and still hopes to see Westeros, they will be loyal to you Daenerys, you are their best hope of coming home.”

Daenerys turned to look at the company of sellswords that came to fight for her and realized that they might prove worthy when she comes back to Westeros.

“I’ll accept them,” she finally decided, “but I will need to see their loyalty pledge in blood magister, not only by your gold.”

“They shall,” agreed Illyrio with a vigorous nod, his chins bouncing.

The mercenary group is marching at the rear of the Dothraki horde but Daenerys assigned Prince Quentyn and his dornish companions as well as Captain Strickland, his squire, a handsome boy named Alleras and some officers of the Golden Company to ride with her to give counsel and advice if needed.

‘Who could have thought that I’ll lead soldiers,’ she said as she chews on some kind of dried grass, watching the men as she overtake the horde; The land in front of her unspoiled as she race ahead, feeling the tips of the tall grass and pines on her skin, ‘do you see me Rhaegar? I left Westeros to lead men to war, to lead my men to win your sons war.’

She raced faster, wishing that instead of grass, it was golden roses that her mare is trampling on.

When the sun was finally on the far west, she waited for the riders on a crook of a hill, grinning.

“You ride like a northman khaleesi,” said the dornish prince when he caught up to her.

“Not even close,” she answered him but still, she couldn’t hide the grin from her face.

“They said that the Stark Queen rides horses pretty well,” commented the captain of the Golden Company, “is she the one who instructed you, Your Grace?”

It was true, Her Grace, Queen Lyanna can outrun any horse rider in the Red Keep, she told Daenerys that only Domeric Bolton can outrun her. It was sad for Daenerys just thinking about the queen.

“She gave me some points,” answered Dany, “but it still fell to the duty of the Master of Horse of the castle to teach me of this matter.”

Suddenly from the nearby forest of bamboo, they heard her husband’s blood riders shouting in triumph as they heard the dothraki men losing a shaft to what seem to be a spotted cat by hearing its roar.

“Khaleesi, might I ask a question?” it was the prince.

“Go ahead Your Highness,” said Daenerys as the sight of the dothraki riders who are riding behind her a while back is sighted from the distant hill that will give way to the Forest of Qohor.

“After you are presented to the dosh khaleens of the dothraki people and say gave birth to your babe,” he paused, looking at Daenerys if he gave an offense and when he saw none, he continued, “what is your next move?”

Daenerys knows that this question would arise sooner rather than later. The dothraki people are not her only subjects now but also this strange group of westerosi nobles and mercenaries who are hungry for glory and fame.

“The dothraki is my husband’s people, whatever he says they will follow,” she answered and she saw the dornish company exchanging glances with each other, “but I mean to see my son see Westeros and the Red Keep that was built by my ancestors as well as to walk the black beach of the castle of Dragonstone where I was born.”

“Khaleesi, might I speak?” it was Cletus, one of the sons of Lord Anders Yronwood.

“You can,” Dany answered with a nod as the man tightened the rein on his horse which neighed at the sound of the approaching horde.

“It was said that the dothraki people doesn’t cross the sea in their belief that any water that their horses can’t drink, they avoid,” he paused, “your husband might be swayed if you ask him in time, but his people?”

He left the question hanging.

“They will cross the sea if my husband commanded it, you don’t have to fear on this account my lord,” answered Daenerys and calling him lord even though he is not.

“Khalessi,” it was the Captain, “the khal,” he pointed at the edge of the forest where suddenly riders came, their horses galloping, moving in one fluid motion as if man and horse are one.

Daenerys saw her husband’s bloodriders.

There came Cohollo, the oldest of her husband’s bloodriders; a squat bald man with a crooked nose and mouth full of broken teeth, he saved Drogo’s life from sellswords when her husband was younger. Next came Qotho, a cruel man that have quick hands that like to hurt then next is Haggo, a large man, the cord of muscle on his arms seems to be too heavy for his body.

Last came Khal Drogo, his eyes intent as he rode his stallion forward, his long hair and drooping moustache is bouncing as his horse trampled the grass with its hooves and the bells hung onto it singing.

Daenerys couldn’t help but smile as she saw her husband and behind the khal came the young riders that carry the price of the hunt, a fearsome striped beast of the woods, now dead by an arrow to its neck.

“A successful hunt,” said the Captain.

“It was,” Daenerys agreed.

“Does King Rhaegar likes to hunt as well, Princess?” asked Captain Harry.

She turned to look at the balding man, her silver neighing.

“Rhaegar likes to sing,” she answered, “and play the harp and read and make the Queen Lyanna happy as she can be,” she couldn’t help but to feel emotional, “he is the greatest man I know.”

She kicked the stirrup of her horse and continued her way forward, no direction in mind as she wanted to get away and hide the tears that are threatening to flow from her eyes.

A week after the hunt, Drogo came to their tent carrying the skin of the animal which is now clean and fit to use.

“Sheik Ma Shieraki Anni,” greeted Daenerys, by this time, she was only wearing a robe

“Yer Jalan Atthirari Anni,” the khal greeted her back carrying the skin of the striped beast.

They used it to cover themselves after making love.

“Irri says that I may be pregnant,” she said to him on the dothraki tongue.

The dothraki handmaiden told her that her morning sickness is the first sign of pregnancy.

“That is a great news,” the khal replied, kissing her at her forehead, “I want a strong son, he will inherit my khalassar in time and conquer all the known world.”

“What if I gave you a daughter?” she asked him.

She felt Drogo shift his body under their cover.

“A son,” he insisted and fell right off to sleep.

“Is girl not important?” she murmured after some time.

In the morning, she ordered her handmaidens to prepare the dragon eggs of Queen Lyanna.

Valyrians only vows to their dragons and if she will pray for a favor to her gods, she wanted the dragon eggs to be there.

Her handmaidens set it up in a way that the three stone eggs are surrounded by small fire with the deep green egg with burnished bronze flecks and the pale cream egg streaked with gold and bronze flanking the black egg with scarlet ripples and swirls. Daenerys knows that they are only eggs that have been turned to stone millennia ago but when she gazed upon it once the small fire became steady and firm, the stones seem to shine brighter with the fire warming them.

Daenerys moved towards it, picking up the black egg, feeling the warmth of it instantly.

“Give me a son,” she muttered silently, “a son worthy of his father’s khalassar.”

“Khalessi,” came the shocked voice of her handmaiden Irri who tried putting the stone away from her hand, but was burned in the process.

Daenerys gently put the stone egg back on its place then Irri made a run to her, checking her hands.

“Khalessi, your hand is warm but how come it was not burned?”

“I have the blood of the dragons,” she told her as the handmaiden stare in wonder, “fire and blood.”

As they neared to Vaes Dothrak, Daenerys pregnancy became apparent as well but still, every night after she and the khal made love, when her husband finally fell asleep, she would go to the three dragon stone eggs that is still warm to touch because they have been burning all day.

“Give me a son,” she prayed, to whom she cannot tell, “please.”

By the morning, she was informed by Alleras, Captain Harry’s handsome squire; that the city of Vaes Dothrak is near.

“We have seen the horse gate, khalessi,” said the boy of twelve.

“I’ll see it for myself as well,” replied Daenerys as she kicked her horse to ride ahead of the column.

Indeed, the khalassar is almost at the city as Daenerys saw for herself the horse gate of Vaes Dothrak.

It was no true gate, as there are no gates or walls in the city. It was called the Horse Gate for the two gigantic bronze stallions whose hooves meet a hundred feet above the roadway to form a pointed arch. From a distance, it also frames the great purple mountain which the dothraki name the Mother of Mountains.

Once she is near enough, through the broad and grassy road called the godsway, Daenerys saw monuments, statues and holy symbols from a hundred different religions lined on both sides, declaring the prowess of the dothraki people on their conquest.

“They have brought down so much,” she thought as she passed them, “and my son will bring more when he is finally leading his father’s khalassar,” her hand suddenly went protectively on her stomach, where her growing child will soon be known throughout the known world.

Entering the city, everyone gave up their sword for it is forbidden to carry blade or shed a man’s blood within the confines of the city.

In this place, the crones of the dosh khaleen decreed, all dothraki were one blood one klalasar, one herd.

The godways runs through the heart of the city in a straight line, along the way, it passes through the Western and Eastern Market.

She saw that some of the people from Westeros pledged to her went for the western market, probably wanting to hear any news of their homeland of Westeros and she suddenly thought of her brother Rhaegar.

‘Maybe by this time, the war is already won, Rhaegar is sitting on the Iron Throne again, Queen Lyanna already gave birth to a new Targaryen princess, Jonothor is in Dragonstone with his wife, Daeron safe and sound with her mother Queen Dowager Rhaella at the Red Keep. Who knows, Viserys might be in Kings Landing now, returned from his voyage.’

Thinking about her family made her heart heavy with weariness and she suddenly turned to look at any westerosi in the crowd; wanting to know what is the news from the west.

‘They will surely come to me later,’ she settled at the thought and continued to ride.

When they set up their camp beside the lake which the dothraki people call ‘the womb of the world,’ as she laid Queen Lyanna’s dragon eggs on the fire, Jhiqui came in to see her with a hurried steps.

“Khalessi,” she said breathless, “the captain and the prince wants to have a word.”

“Together?” she asked her in which the dothraki maid nod, “let them in, Jhiqui.”

And at once the two men came to see her inside the Khal’s tent and when she saw the expression on their faces, she knows that something’s amiss.

“What happened? Tell me,” she said, looking first at the Captain then to the Martell Prince.

“Princess,” it was Quentyn, “His Grace, King Rhaegar is dead.”

She suddenly lost her balance and fell on the floor.

‘Rhaegar, dead?’

“Your nephew Jon is reported to be slain in the far north as well, and princess please take heart,” the Martell prince paused, waiting for her permission to continue.

“Please,” she said, tears welling from her eyes, “tell me.”

“Prince Daeron escaped King Aegon’s claws but not for long, on the pursuit, it was said that the ship that carried the young prince was burned and everyone inside was not able to go to port,” he paused, “Princess, Daeron is gone as well if these reports are true.”

She did not remember losing consciousness but that must what happened as when she finally woke up, the sky is already dark and her husband, Khal Drogo is already on their tent, sitting on a small wooden stool, looking worried at her.

“Moon of my life,” he told her on her language, “I heard what happened to your family and I’m sorry, this is such terrible news.”

Daenerys held out her arms and the Khal obliged to go in with her on their bed. She cried on his arms as her husband gave her soothing and gentle words.

It was a custom to present a new khalessi to the dosh khaleens of vaes dothrak but when the morning came, Daenerys begged her husband for them to leave the city, to go east and to parts unknown to her, for the knowledge of her family dead, and dying, is too much to bear.

Khal Drogo did not like the idea as well as his bloodriders but his love for her is greater than their traditions so he obliged.

Departing the city the next day, they continued east but as the horde move, distressing news from the dothraki also came to Dany’s ears as she bathe herself on her grief.

“Princess,” said the Martell prince, “some of your husband’s bloodriders are furious, they say Khal Drogo became your pet, obeying every whims and wishes of his foreign whore.”

Daenerys did not budge, as her handmaidens already informed her about this talk since last night.

Her husband have taken care of that man with a loose tongue when it reach him, defeating the dothraki and gelding the man promising him that he will be someone’s whore in the slave market but not until his own horse fucked him first.

“So that you will be honed and ready when you are sold,” Khal Drogo said to his defeated bloodrider.

But it only got worse, as the man that her husband gelded is one of the sons of Qotho, one of the most powerful bloodriders of his husband.

Heavy with a child and weary of the fate that befallen his family, Daenerys only comfort is her husband, whom worships her like a goddess.

“I will do everything for you, moon of my life,” he promised her.

On their journey east, the horde came upon a Lhazarene settlement that quickly fell to the hooves of the horses of her husband’s khalassar.

For the first time in months, Daenerys finally ventured out within the safety of the litter where she is being carried, riding her silver, when she heard the slaughter to see it for herself with Prince Quentyn’s companions around her as well as the Golden Company’s officers and the four bloodriders sworn to her namely Rakharo, Jhogo, Aggo and Quaro.

Mercy, the people of Lhazarene are begging for mercy, as children are taken from their mothers embrace, girls no older than her are raped, men being killed and everything that are valuable are taken by the dothraki riders.

In the midst of the chaos, Daenerys imagined her eldest brother’s face to a Lhazarene father whom she saw being taken down protecting his family, and one of the two sons of the man that was killed, hopelessly trying to fight the invaders to be Jonothor who also died from the killer who killed his father and then the young boy, willful like Daeron, jumping in front of the dothraki screamer who killed his father and brother, to be taken down as well and the woman left standing, with a homely face, raped.

“Stop,” she said suddenly, “stop this violence! I command it!”

The command was brought to the khal himself and much to the dismay of his ko’s and his people, he obliged to her wishes once again.

Daenerys saved a hundred lives of the Lhazarene people but it lost the respect of her husband’s ko’s to the khal.

That was the last straw of Qotho’s loyalty to her husband; when the horde settled in for the night, Ko Qotho’s men and himself, disappeared in the tall grass long after, scattering like rats in the field of grass covered by darkness.

In the morning, when the news reach her husband, Khal Drogo ordered outriders to follow the trail of the deserters, a few from the hundred riders came back after a week, reporting that Ko Qotho joined the lesser khalassar of Khal Oggo and was reported to be marching to meet her husband’s.

“What have I done,” she told herself miserably when Captain Harry’s squire informed her of the news.

She was visiting the injured Lhazarene people and looking at the sick and dying and the doom that would soon come upon them, and her grief, was too much to bear, so she lost her balance once again but this time, the squire Alleras caught her.

“Princess, are you ok?” asked the squire as her four protectors and Prince Quentyn and his companions came to see her as well in a haste.

“Someone, someone come help the princess!” shouted one of Prince Quentyn’s men.

“A healer, is there any healer here?” came the shout of her dothraki protector named Rakharo.

And there she comes, a lhazarene godswife and a maegi; a heavy set flat-nosed woman with tangles of long black hair.

“I will check on the khaleesi’s condition,” said the healer, everyone around them parted to let her through.

“What have I done?” Daenerys muttered, “this tragedy happening in my family, gods forgive me.”

The last thing that the princess saw before she fell onto her despair is the maegi smirking at her, muttering an unheard spell that stirred something on her belly.

‘No, get away from me,’ she wanted to say before the darkness took over.

While covered by darkness, Daenerys saw visions of the imminent future; it was the hour of the wolf and she saw a battle, the smaller host devouring the greater host to her grief and on the same hour, she saw a babe ‘my babe, my sweet babe,’ Daenerys thought,’ crying alone in the night and then being devoured by three dragons.

She woke up from the dream as the blood of the babe sputtered and splashed everywhere. She found herself laying on the bed, with people inside the tent.

‘My husband’s tent,’ she thought, she saw the people sworn to her, Captain Harry Strickland is standing near the entrance of the door, his squire with him. The Martell prince is also there along with his three companions and Maester Kendry, her handmaidens are kneeling near her bed, their faces etched with worry and she saw that Irri is holding a bundle on her arms.

It was quiet inside the tent, and it grew more silent when Dany realized what happened.

“Give him to me,” she said to her handmaiden.

“He is a she, khalessi,” answered Irri in a dothraki language as she passed her the bundle gently, “but she died right after the delivery.”

‘Dead? My sweet babe is dead.’

She looked at the infant with a teary eyes, trembling.

“Tell me, what happened?” she said, as she saw the gentle face of her dead daughter, a wisp of silver hair on her head and looking so peaceful, fragile and alive.

“You’ve been weak for months khalessi, since hearing the news of about what happened to your family,” it was the maester, “it affected the babe inside you.”

And then she realized that her husband is not there with her.

‘Drogo told me he wants a son,’ she thought sadly as her tears continue to flow, ‘and I gave him a daughter, a dead daughter.’

“Where is my husband?” she asked them.

“After seeing the babe, he went off to the impending battle,” answered the Captain.

The battle

Suddenly she remembered her visions and the way the maegi smiled at her as she lost consciousness.

“My baby girl died because of a murder,” she said much to the confusion of the people around her, “where is the woman? Where is this maegi?” she paused, eyeing everyone, “bring her to me!”

And when her sworn bloodriders brought the woman in front of her, she saw that they bound her hand.

“I saved your people,” she told her as the fire on the hearth dance and flicker, “and you have paid it with treachery.”

The maegi stared at her, looking deep into her eyes, her soul.

“This is not for you, girl, it was for your husbands slaughter,” she paused, her eyes blazing, “do you think we are the first settlement to be conquered by his people?” she spat at her feet, "or the last?"

“Then you shall die,” she told her, “prepare a pyre for my deceased daughter, and tie this woman on a pole inside it.”

They did what she ordered. It’s only an hour before the sun came up when the pyre finished and beside her dead child, she commanded that Queen Lyanna’s dragon eggs must be lined as well and the maegi who started singing a worship to some god, is tied to a pole on it as well.

It was Daenerys who light the pyre and she and her people watch the kindling catch fire, then the wood to make the heat steadier and stronger and then as the maegi continued to sing, her eyes above, she seems oblivious to the heat around her but when the fire consumed her wooden sandals first and then Daenerys saw that she seems to be bathing in fire and then came the shrieking.

The maegi’s cries scared the horses and some of the young children of the khalassar as well but Daenerys looked on, as the maegi’s eyes turned to jelly and then suddenly the shrieking stopped and only the smell of burning meat remained.

When the pyre is only smoke and burned and charred wood, Daenerys and her people still lingered and somewhere inside from where they put her dead babe, something move.

Goose pickles runs on her exposed skin, she walk towards the smoke and when she is near enough, she saw dragons.

And for the first time in more than a hundred years, born by magic, by fire and blood, the world heard the song of dragons again.

Notes:

I know its been a loooong time since the last time I updated here but I just want you all to know that my life outside AOO is very hectic especially my work and personal life. But every now and then I would write no matter how small as I already mentioned before, I have every intention to finish this story and we are only halfway through it.
Anyways I hope y'all liked the chapter and would find it in there hearts to put their thoughts on the comment section as its always a delight to hear from everyone (yes including the hateful comments lol). See y'all again soon.

Chapter 21: Bran I

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

He saw dragons flying over the sky, beautiful, fierce and dangerous; one ventured to the east, travelling the unknown oceans sailed by pirates, until landing her hundred thousand ships on the old city on the south and from the north, the shadows of the cold are stirring, dead on the trees, dead on the river, dead on ice and on the deepest part of some unknown forest, he saw a hill jutting up on the center and at the top of it is a heart tree as big as the heart tree in Winterfell. It looks dead, weathered and scrawny but it's clinging onto life and below the hill, on some secret passages is a cave where the old ones still linger. Following the tunnels deep on the hill, he came upon a dragon in form of a man and when he opened his eyes, Brandon Stark opened his eyes as well.

Bran woke up from his dream, sweaty and startled. Outside his window he can hear the drizzle of rain making a 'splat, splat, splat, splat..' sound on the stone walls of the castle.

'A dream,' he thought, 'only a dream.'

The night that he fell ill, he had the longest and most strange dream, he was a squirrel living in the forest of the wolfswood, but he did not stay as a squirrel for long, he turned into several animals as his illness continuous; a moose, a wild horse, a wolf hunting in a pack, a snow owl in the far North watching the wilderness of frozen forest and then his direwolf he named Summer, howling in the night at the kernels of Winterfell together with his litter mates, the smoke grey furred named Greywind and the black direwolf named Shaggydog.

But it was not all living in the flesh of animals, he was flying, soaring in the wind up above on the sky, he saw his sister Sansa sailing on a ship and then his sister Arya as well, he also saw his father sitting inside the command tent, staring on the lone candle, when he tried to call him, Lord Eddard turned to look at him but saw nothing, only wind.

He cried and wanted to wake up then from his long sleep, he wants the visions, the nightmares, the dreams to end because he missed his family, and that's when the three eyed raven starts appearing on his dream, pecking his forehead and telling him to open his eyes.

"But my eyes are open," Bran argued.

"Not those eyes," replied the raven, "this," then he pecked him on the forehead again. That was when he finally woke up from his long slumber. Maester Luwin couldn't explain what really happened to him when his lady mother asked.

"It just happened Lady Stark," the old man said, "one day he is running and playing and then the next he is on a deep slumber."

That was when everything change for House Stark and their allies and Bran saw most of it in advance as lately what he sees when he sleeps is not just only a mere dream. He saw the fighting in the riverlands before it even happened and he saw the death of the dragon king as well.

When he first told Maester Luwin about what he saw on his dreams, the old man dismissed the thought, saying a dream is only dream, nothing more.

"A dream is as realistic as an unfulfilled prophecy preached by some unwashed holy man in the street Bran," he told him, "a battle on the town beside a lake, a great green dragon pierced by an antler and lay dying on the shallows of a river," the old maester shook his head, "you've been listening to the stories of Lord Reed's son again."

He does, and when he told Jojen and Meera about his dream, the siblings shared a worried look.

"It sounded like Gods Eye," said Jojen, "but the great green dragon, I am not so certain."

"Could it be...?" Bran did not finished the thought, as for him, King Rhaegar is an immortal man, who is meant to rule the realm for eternity.

When news of the fighting on the Gods Eye reach the rookery of Winterfell, the world seems became colder somehow; King Rhaegar dead, his father Ned Stark captured, the kings army scattered and broken, even one of the Kingsguard of King Rhaegar have joined his liege soon after, as Ser Richard Lonmouth died fighting Ser Addam Marbrand but not after killing fifteen foot soldiers that are protecting the wounded Lord Robert Baratheon, in the knights rage on seeing his king die.

Only Ser Barristan Selmy remains as well as his uncle Lord Elbert Arryn who is harrying the scattered Kings Army along with his other uncle Ser Edmure Tully, Ser Edmure's uncle Ser Brynden Tully, the two Tyrell brothers Willas and Garlan and Lord Randyl Tarly, who pulled back what remained of the army to Riverrun, planning to stay there to regroup while the other remaining Kingsguard Ser Myles Mooton, is with his aunt the Queen in Targaryen fortress of Dragonstone.

It was not all bad news though as the advancing dornish army in the Prince Pass that was meant to ravage the Reach was blocked successfully by Lord Tyrell and his bannermen. Three times the dornish army tried to assault the Tyrell army and three times they failed.

'This I swear for my unborn grandchild's honor, to whom the future of House Targaryen depends, that no dornish army shall pass the Wide Way whilst a Tyrell man remains on the other side, waiting to feather them with Tarly arrows.'

Another Tyrell army is in the command of the famous knight, Ser Loras Tyrell, moving on the roseroad, threatening Lord Tywin's own army that's camped in one of the nearer castles to Kings Landing. On the other hand, Lord Redwyn's and Lord Manderly's respective fleet are also defending Dragonstone for any threat as it's there where his aunt, the queen who is expected to deliver a child soon as well as Princess Margaery, who's unborn babe is the heir to the throne after Prince Jonothor, his beloved cousin, the rightful heir and now the rightful king of the whole realm.

"Did you see anything more?" it was Jojen.

Bran shook his head and sometimes he dared not to when he is about to sleep at night, afraid of what he will see on his dreams.

"You're shaking," this time it was Meera, who is sitting on the chair nearest to his bed, "are you cold?"

It was not cold, he is afraid to admit it but he is terrified that he will see a tragic end of one of his family members on his dreams. The Starks were scattered enough already; his father, Lord Eddard Stark is a captive of the young usurper, his mother, Lady Catelyn will soon depart Winterfell along with his eldest brother Robb and his young wife, travelling to Riverrun, augmenting the disarrayed Royal Army with the second wave of Northern cavalry to continue the fight for the throne under the banners of House Stark, Sansa is captive in Kings Landing, Arya was rumored to have been killed together with his cousin Prince Daeron and Rickon, even little Rickon will need to leave the North, he will stay to the Eyrie under the protection of their aunt, Lady Lysa Arryn, away from the fighting in the Riverlands.

As days give ways to nights, one by one his family starts to leave him.

It started with little Rickon who is as confused as his direwolf that he named Shaggydog.

"Am I going to see father?" he asked their mother as they wait for his escort in the outer yard of the castle.

"You will go and see your aunt and cousin in the Eyrie," answered their mother, the Lady Catelyn.

"I don't want to go in the Eyrie!" objected Rickon as Bran watch, "I want to see father! I want to go to the fighting!"

"Rickon," this time it was Robb and Bran thought his eldest brother sounded so much like their father then he realized that this time he is not just his sibling but his lord, Robb knelt down to match the gae of their youngest sibling, "listen, all of us have parts to play, I'm off to war and mother will come with me to arrange fathers released, Sansa is a captive at the capital but she is doing her part as well," then Robb turned to look at Bran, "and Brandon, he will stay here in the North, do you know why?"

He saw Rickon hesitated to answer at first and then the youngest son of Eddard Stark took a deep breath and finally answered.

"To be the Stark of Winterfell," he answered, "but what about Arya?" that question made their mother tear up.

"Well Arya is out there," answered their brother, "she will be back soon enough," he said with so much confidence that Bran's hope of seeing her sister was renewed once again.

"Take care out there," Bran found himself saying to his little brother, his eyes tearing up, "and I will see you very soon."

That was the last time in a very long while he will see Rickon.

A few weeks after the youngest Stark departure, after some fifteen thousand northern soldiers were assembled, Robb, his wife Lady Jeyne and his mother the Lady Catelyn turn to leave were next.

It was the hardest goodbye Bran had ever to do but he had to be strong for his house. Lady Catelyn promised to be back as soon as possible while Jeyne told him she will see him very soon when the war is over and Robb... Robb kissed him on the cheeks and said when he returns, father, Sansa, Arya and Rickon will be with them.

"You will be the Lord of Winterfell Bran," he said to him, "listen to Maester Luwin and Hallis, they will guide you well."

"I will," he replied then he couldn't keep it together and jumped and embraced his brother.

The memory still brings tears on his eyes.

When they all went off to war, Bran has to play the part of being a lord. As instructed by his brother Robb, he listened well to his advisors, when it concerns medicines, counting and politics, he turns to Maester Luwin and when it comes to warfare and soldiers, he turns to Hallis.

But late at night, when he invites Jojen and Meera in his room to ask them about the things he sees on his dreams, that he realized he values their advised the most, especially Jojen whom Old Nan calls the little grandfather.

"I saw the sea washing over a castle ripe with summer fruits and flowers," confessed Jojen.

"What is this castle?" Bran asked him, thinking of all the castles in Westeros that Maester Luwin thought him about.

"I don't know," answered Jojen Reed who looks to be as confused as him, "I have not ventured out below the Neck.

"This visions, they can be stopped right?" asked Meera, intently looking at them, first to Bran and then to her brother.

"I am not sure," answered Jojen, "visions are very tricky."

"How about the three eyed raven Bran? Have you seen it on your dreams lately?" asked Meera, who walked towards the window of his room, looking down on the Winterfell's courtyard below that is currently covered by darkness.

"No," he lied because last night, he saw the three eyed raven again.

The war have resumed between the loyalist and the bastard dragon when one day, Maester Luwin and Hallis Mollen came to his room.

"What is it?" he asked them.

Bran saw from their expression that it's another bad news and for a moment, he is scared that one of his family members is in danger, or harmed, and his worse fear, have died.

"My lord," said Hallis, "we received a raven, news from the Dreadfort."

'Lord Bolton,' said Bran to himself, 'the thought of the man is dreadful enough.'

He remembered Lord Roose Bolton. In all honesty, Brandon thought that the man is a mystery. Dreadfort swears allegiance to the Starks of Winterfell but he knows too well the bloody history between his family and the lords of Dreadfort to be complacent if it concerns threat of safety of his people.

"What is it? Have he finally gone mad?" he asked.

"My lord, he is amassing soldiers," is the reply of Hallis Mollen.

"He sent a minimal force when your brother called for the Northern banners to fight in the war," added Maester Luwin, "and whatever is left from the main Bolton cavalry is with Lord Roose Bolton."

'Will he attack Winterfell?' he asked himself.

"Well we should know his purpose first," said Bran much to the agreement of his advisors, "and send a raven to the neighboring lords to gather their men and prepare to fight if it will come to that," he paused, "maester, send another message to Lord Manderly, besides from our men here in Winterfell, he has the most soldiers under his command that he can dispatch quickly if a fighting starts," then he looked at the captain of the guards of Winterfell, "Hallis, prepare our men as well, I want the guards in and out of the castle to be doubled."

"It will be done m'lord Stark," said Hallis, slightly bowing before leaving them.

He imagined that's what his father will do, and Robb as well; prepare the men for war and Bran thought that it's also the best one to take then he saw Maester Luwin looking pensive, his gaze at the distance.

"Maester, what are the odds if a fighting indeed starts?" he asked the old man.

"Bran, I don't want to frighten you child," the maester paused, searching his reaction and when he saw Bran is not afraid, he continued, "I'm afraid Lord Bolton will have the support of House Umber as his son impregnated and was supposed to marry one of the daughters of Lord Umber," he paused, his forehead creased, "and we should expect House Ryswell and House Dustin to support him as well, the late Lady Bolton is the elder sister of Lady Barbrey Dustin, both are the daughters of Lord Rodrik Ryswell," the maester looks slightly troubled, "this will be tough times my lord, we should be ready."

Bran understood the meaning of the words of the old man, he also knows what it means to lose the war, but to House Stark advantage, all of them are scattered, even if he became a casualty of the battle, his house has still other heirs to replace him.

"Maester, one last question," he asked him, "any news below the Neck?"

"I'm afraid we still haven't gotten any ravens coming from the south, my lord," answered Maester Luwin, "but I will come to you at once when we get any raven."

That day, he asked the Reed siblings to come with him to the godswood, this time, Summer, his direwolf, is with them, as well as the simpleton Hodor, who stands to be the tallest man in the whole North.

"Hodor," he said, following a dragonfly around the pool and shrubbery, "hodor, hodor, hooodoooor!"

"Winterfell is not safe anymore," he confessed to the Reed siblings, "I'm afraid we have to part ways," he said.

He was sitting on his father's spot on the grove of Winterfells heart tree as he looked up to the expressions of Meera and Jojen by his sudden words.

Meera was confused while Jojen did not show any emotion to betray what's on his mind.

"But what happened?" asked the older Reed sibling, "has there any news?"

"Lord Bolton may attack the castle," he told them, "and if he does, the two of you are better off with your father, Lord Howland."

"No," it was Jojen.

The two of them, him and Meera and even his direwolf Summer, turned to look at the sickly boy.

"What do you mean?" he asked him.

"We will stay with you," answered the Reed boy.

"I will be in danger," he told Jojen, "your lives maybe at risk."

"I agree with Jojen," said Meera, "we cannot leave you, not now that you need some company of friends the most."

Bran looked at the two of them, they are so true to him, so loyal and he understood now that if he ever need someone to support and protect him, it would be Meera and Jojen.

"All right," he said, "then the two of you can stay but I cannot promise your safety."

The Reed siblings nodded at him, understanding the risk they are taking.

After that conversation with the Reed siblings, Brandon's days seems to get colder and bleaker as it pass. He thought that there was something in the northern wind that's somehow colder and there something heavy hanging on the air of the castle that seems to put every residents of Winterfell in silence.

'No, its just that the castle became emptier somehow,' he told himself when he woke up from a dream in the middle of the night, listening as the darkness surrounds him, 'my family, everyone, I miss you all.'

After three days news from House Hornwood was an ill omen that surrounded everyone in the castle. Dreadfort men attacked the forested woods of hornwood and soon enough a fighting erupted.

Dreadfort men came in large numbers as they harry the lands on their borders, killing everyone on their path and as Maester Luwin predicted, survivors of the raids said they saw the banner of House Umber flying side by side with House Bolton.

"It is as I feared my lord," said the maester, "the flayed man of House Bolton is flying with the roaring giant of House Umber."

"And Lady Donella's men?" asked Bran, worried about the elderly lady, alone on her halls.

Lady Donella is the wife of Lord Halys Hornwood and the mother of Daryn, but with her husband off to war and Daryn missing beyond the wall, she was left to manage their house.

"I'm afraid her men is too few, as most of them came with Lord Halys when Lord Eddard called for the banners," answered the maester, "it was reported they retreated back to the castle and the Hornwood would be on siege soon."

"We must send men to help m'lord," it was the suggestion of Hallis Mollen.

Sending the men would leave Winterfell vulnerable for another attack, Bran knew that much but if he let the men of Hornwood be slaughtered, then what kind of lord he is?

'A coward,' the answer came quickly on his head.

"Send a hundred of our men," he said, "this will not be enough but I will command Lord Manderly and House Cerwyn to send whatever they can spare as they are the nearest allies we have," he paused, looking at Hallis and then to Maester Luwin, "maester, send a letter to every Northern house, they must be ready for any fighting that might break out at any moment's notice and warn House Dustin and House Ryswell for any further betrayal, tell them Jonothor is still the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and his child to Lady Margaery is the heir to the Iron Throne, the Eyrie, Highgarden and Riverrun is tied by blood and friendship to Winterfell."

It was an empty threat but necessary. If the two houses indeed betray the Starks, then it may well be the end of them.

"At once my lord," said Maester Luwin.

"We must stop this uprising to its roots if we ever want to survive the war for the throne, House Targaryen needs a united North," he said, thinking about his father in some dark dungeon, wherever he may be, "and winter is coming."

In one decisive move, Brandon Stark gave the northmen a fighting chance for the coming war of ice but they would suffer more losses than they could count and every decision have consequence as the three eyed raven watch the young Stark boy from his halls of bark and vines.

Every Northern house prepared for the fight, sending men to Winterfell as their pledge of support and keeping an ample force on their backyard as commanded by the Stark of Winterfell and much to his relief, Bran learned that House Ryswell and Dustin remained neutral, it was a delicate position but he knows the empty threat he sent to them has an effect, after all, the success of House Bolton and House Umber is not guaranteed.

On the first stage of battle for the North, the Bolton men were surprised about the alarming huge numbers of the combined Stark, Manderly, Flints of Widows Watch, Cerwyn, and Tallhart men, led by Hallis Mollen and Leobald Tallhart, the five houses were principal for the first battle as they are the nearest to the hornwood but Lord Bolton is not without cunning and fueled by grief for the loss of his son and heir, Domeric and assisted by Lord Jon Umber and his son and heir, Smalljon Umber and the rest of the Umber forces, the two houses pulled back their forces on Bolton territory to regroup; giving the victory on the first battle for the Stark forces.

The soldiers of Houses Stark, Manderly, Flints of Widows Watch, Cerwyn and Tallhart now added their strength to the forces coup up on the Hornwood castle and as the plans were relayed to Bran, the combined northern forces would eventually besieged Dreadfort while Karstark men would harass any aid sent by House Umber as Karhold is in between Last Hearth and Dreadfort while men from Deepwood Moat, Bear Island and Northern Mountain Clans continue to pour in Winterfell, answering the call of House Stark.

Suddenly Bran was thrown to meet and greet the soldiers and the lords that came to his call and inspired by their victory on the retaking of hornwood, the men were eager to march to battle and win some glory for their own and make a quick end to the uprising.

"It's past time we bathe in Bolton and Umber blood," it was the Wull.

In the mountains, leaders of each clans are not called lords, instead they are called chieftains or 'the Wull,", "the Flint,", "the Norrey," etc. but as customs, Bran calls him Lord Wull.

Everyone on the Great hall of the castle agreed, making a noises by yelling, nodding vigorously, and other ruckus just to show they want to go and win the battles.

"My lord," said Bran after the noise died down, "is it more wise to keep our strength here in Winterfell and wait until Hallis and Leobald Tallhart successfully surrounded the castle of House Bolton?"

"My lord," added the maester, who is sitting beside Bran, "Lord Stark is saying true, we outnumber them five to two as Karhold cut off the support coming from Last Hearth, our victory is nigh."

At this, the Wull shook his head.

"it is as you wrote when you sent that raven maester," said the Wull, "depend Hornwood and Winterfell," he paused, "I will leave the remainder of my men camped outside the castle but I'll take most with me to the forest and kill these damn Bolton men!"

There was another uproar of agreement coming from the other lords and the soldiers in the hall and Bran couldn't help but feel defeat.

"What should we do Maester?" he asked the old man.

"Well northerners are stubborn," whispered Luwin, "I'm afraid we have to concede for this time at least."

It was a mistake, as when most of the soldiers marched towards the hornwood, an opportunity opened for the Boltons. Unbeknownst to them, Lord Bolton concocted a plan with his bastard son, Ramsay to infiltrate the castle and as Bran lay on his bed sleeping, he dreams of a grey granite castle crashing to the heavy snow, the sound of the walls falling was so real Bran woke up with a scream and there he heard a commotion somewhere in the castle and suddenly the door opened.

"My lord, quickly, you must go!" it was the maester.

"What happened Luwin?" he asked, feeling afraid for the first time.

"The Bolton's," answered the maester, "they have come!"

Notes:

I know my last update was way back last November of 2020 but I have the full intention of finishing this story and started working on the next chapter and its coming along just fine. I think I already mentioned before that I already outlined the whole story with each POV characters as their story progress and to tell you honestly I havent even reach half lol. Anyways I will be back for another chapter this Sunday and hopefully will finish the whole story before my birthday on April as I'm so frustrated that GRRM is not giving us the Winds of Winter -_-

Chapter 22: Tristifier I

Notes:

I know the update is a bit delayed but I am trying my best to write more. Anyways here is the introductory chapter for Tristifier Botley. I hope y'all will like his perspective on what's going on in the Iron Islands.

Chapter Text

They would try to gather the Iron Fleet and sail to Dorne, hopefully conquering Sunspear in a few months, robbing the usurper of his home while some of the men of the Iron Islands would join the fray on Riverlands, this is where Tristifier would like to go even though he is not a warrior himself because he knew full well that he will see Jonothor on the field, where the fighting is the thickest and he wants to be there with the crown prince, fighting alongside him and dying for him if needed be.

That was their plan on the start but now he is not so sure.

It was almost a year since he and Theon Greyjoy came back home to the Isles and at first, when they saw some of the assembled longships of the isles, seeing the banners of the powerful families of the Iron Islands such as the golden kraken of House Greyjoy, the silver scythe of House Harlaw, the vairy green and black banner of House Blacktyde, the drowned man of House Sunderly and other notable noble houses of the islands and among them is his own house banner of shoal of silver fish, they were both delighted, thinking the raiders will join the fray, but to which side?

The second son of Lord Sawane Botley of Lordsport, Tristifier is a handsome young man with a messy brown hair and large eyes, who grew up in the court of Kings Landing, becoming one of the companions of the Crown Prince in the capital as his father, Lord Botley was serving His Grace, King Rhaegar in Kings Landing and was a representative of the affairs of the Iron Islands as well, while his older brother Harren stayed behind in Lordsport to manage their house and keep. He has younger brothers that supposedly in talks to serve as cupbearers and new companions of the younger prince Daeron.

'It was so long ago,' he thought as he reminisce all the memories of the past months.

When he and Theon came back home to the Iron Islands, the fighting in the greenlands was still new and King Rhaegar was still the king of the Seven Kingdoms, but a year almost past and many things had changed since then.

He wanted to go and join his friends and his lawful liege on the Riverlands but all was restricted to leave the islands by the command of Lord Balon Greyjoy.

'And it's now months since I last saw Theon,' he said to himself as he look at himself in the looking glass, he noticed that a stubble of light brown beard is growing, making him look mature and older than his young age by a few years, 'with how the things are going on around the islands, I know all too well what is coming.'

'Betrayal.'

It was a bitter taste on his tongue, just the thought of going against his friends on the battlefield and to rub salt to the wound, his father died loyally for the crown and now his death would be in vain, thrown to the sea by the ironmen.

'I should have left,' he said to himself, 'but how?'

His brother and now the head of House Botley, is a loyal supporter of Lord Balon Greyjoy and he was never really close to Harren, if his brother found out his plan of escape, there is no doubt that he will be surrendered and probably be fed to the sea by his own people.

'I grew up in Kings Landing, not in Lordsport,' the thought was depressing enough, 'but if I could continue this farce of being submissive to them, I might get a chance to escape.'

After washing his face one more time, he finally left his modest chamber and went to the main hall where his brothers are taking their breakfast.

House Botley's timber and wattle keep is a far cry to the Red Keep where he grew up or to the great castle of Winterfell where they would often visit in the summer. In Tristifier's mind, he would one day marry a red head noble lady, becoming a lord of a great castle, his line would have close connection with the ruling family of Westeros, that's what his father wanted, and that's what he also desired but when the usurper stole the throne of Rhaegar, the bastard also stole his dreams.

"Tris!" it was his younger brother Symond, a plump boy of ten years who looks to be the boy version of Harren.

"Hey Sy," he said, sitting beside him, "what's happening?"

The hall seems a little crowded, there was a ton of movement and there is a buzz on the air.

"Harren will sail soon!" answered the boy, squealing happily.

That made him paused.

'So it's going to happen,' he thought as he turned to look at Harren, who is sitting at the head of the table.

His brother is a huge man with plain face and has a strong build, he lets his beard grew and would stroke it while in deep thought. He would often hear his father that some men are born to be soldiers and some are born to rule, and Tristifier thought that he should rule and not his older brother, he believes that if House Botley was left to be run by Harren, he will bring them all to ruin.

'I should be sitting on that chair,' he thought, 'I should be the new Lord Botley.'

Sea foods of different kinds are being served and Tristifier took a bite, eagerly waiting for what Harren will say.

'Will he allow me to captain my own ship?' he asked himself, 'or will he keep a close eye on me and make me an officer on his own?'

There was a silence after Harren stomped his bronze cup on the table three times.

"The Lord Reaper of Pyke have finally decided," said Lord Botley, all eyes on him, "we will be in the sea in a forthnight, we will be under the command of his brother Victarion and we are going to sail in the south, ravaging the coastlines of the Reach."

There was a roar of approval and agreement that they would be under the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet; Victarion Greyjoy is a fearsome warrior and commander but he is not known as wise, Tristifier thought that his other brothers Aeron is mad with religion and Euron crows eye, a mad man who is now sailing the east.

But his brother is not done yet.

"But the south is not the only ones who will suffer our raids," he continued with a nod and a wolfish smirk, "the North and the Riverlands as well," he paused, "Rodrik and Maron will attack the riverlands, raging its coast and threatening Sea Guard while Theon and Asha will sail to the North, to conquer its coast and take the plunder."

Tristifier is no stranger to the game, and the way the plans of Lord Greyjoy are going, he must be on league with the Martells and the Lannisters as it should be Lannisport that they should be raiding because it has the richest plunder of all but he didn't hear his brother bubbling about the city being raided and sacked.

With the Stark men on the march to join the fight on the riverlands, the riverlords being occupied as the war is happening on their backyard and the Tyrell army on the borders of Stormlands and Dorne, the plan of Lord Balon might well be their salvation to greatness.

'Or was it his plan?' he thought, thinking of Jonothor's bastard brother, 'this Aegon and his Martell family, they are planning this for years,' he realized to his horror.

All of a sudden Harren turned to look at him.

"As a rule of the line of succession, you should stay behind and manage Lordsport while I am away," said his brother, "but I don't trust you for that responsibility yet."

'Don't crumble,' he said to himself as for the first time in a while, he and his brother gazed at each other.

"Fortunately for you, Symond is only a boy of ten so I cannot trust him to lead our men as well," he paused, leaning on his chair casually, "so you will be sailing with your good friend Theon to the North and will carry the banner of our house, to win glory and plunder for our house, and for the Iron Islands as well."

"It will be done," Tristifier said, hoping his face didn't betray his goals and after Harren nodded at him, his other captains and officers agreeing, he finally felt a little bit relieved

And with that, he finally planned his escape.

His brother will lend him a longship that has four dozen of crew and a hundred men under his disposal and he was free to choose these men, these soldiers that will be with him to the battle.

For seven days, he scoured the islands of men of with greenland origin so when he reveal his plans while on the open sea, he can use this influence to them, he also took younger sons of ironmen who are willing and eager to win not only plunder but also glory and fame on the battlefield.

"To whom your loyalty lies," he asked one of these men he picked.

"To the captain of the ship," the man answered.

In Iron Islands, every captain is the king of his own ship; this is also the reason why it is called the land of ten thousand kings.

It was going all well until the arrival of Theon four days before they depart the isles.

Tristifier thought that as one of the closest companions of Prince Jon, no, now King Jonothor, as he is the rightful and lawful lord of Westeros; Theon would likely have the same notion as him, of escaping and joining their friend but when he saw the bastard, he was proven wrong.

'They've won him over,' he thought, almost sad and at the same time, angry.

He was commanded by Theon to aboard his new longship the Sea Bitch, it has a lean black hull a hunded feet long, a single mast and fifty oars, a gift by Lord Balon Greyjoy to his 'new and improved son,' accompanied by his new squire Wex Pyke, a mute boy, the squire brought him to his masters cabin.

Theon was being sucked by some girl when Tristifier arrived much to the surprise of the squire seeing the lewd scene in front of them and the girl who quickly withdraws on her duty but Theon stopped her.

"Do you need some head Tris?" he asked him.

There he is, sitting like he doesn't have a single care in the world as the girl continued to suck him eagerly, his handsome face a mask of pleasure, and putting on his annoying smirk as he tease Tris.

I need, but not from this random girl, he thought, shaking his head.

"I think we came at the wrong time," he answered instead.

"I already came two times on her sweet cunt," said Theon with a smile, stroking the head of the girl, almost patting her like some small dog, "and now she's working for the third," he added with a wolfish grin, "but you came at the right time, Asger here can resume her duty later."

And so the girl quickly dressed and was taken by the squire, leaving Theon and Tristifier on the room.

Theon also went to dress to cover his nakedness, Tristifier don't mind, he saw most of his friends naked before at some point, especially Theon and Jon, whom he grow close to.

"So we will go to the battlefield now," said Theon after putting on the belt with the design of a squid head and tentacles, "and you will be under my command."

"Yes, I was well informed by my brother about the plans of Lord Balon," he answered casually.

"Lord? Well we will see if he will be satisfied of being a lord," Theon seems to be talking with himself when he remarked that, "and I had the liberty to know about your plans as well."

At this Tristifier was surprised, but he hid it well, knowing at any moment, Theon can call someone to detain him so he made a casual confused look.

"My plans are to win glory to House Botley," he said, "and to win battles for the Isles."

"To win glory for House Botley, to win battles for the isles," Theon mimicked him, "Tris, I grew up with you in the capital as much as here in the islands, I know how your mind works."

"Theon, what are you saying?" he asked him.

His friend went in front of him, looking him in the eyes.

"Hiring these men with connections or were once living in the greenlands is not helping your plans of betrayal to my father and to your brother," he said in a whisper, cautiously looking at the wall, "you think I'm a bloody idiot? You think I'm as stupid and thick as the Karstark brothers?"

Tristifier is weighing on spilling to Theon that he was indeed planning for an escape or to keep pretending, and he was wise and quick enough to choose the latter.

"You are informed wrong," he snapped back, "I was hiring these men for information of the greenlands, these people lived among the people of the North, of the river and of the reach, what information they have on the land and on the coast is a good benefit for me, and in turn to you."

Theon was glaring at him, his nose almost smoking.

"I'm telling you I know your plans, and probably your brother as well," he said, his voice in a whisper, this time he went face to face with him, "and father knows it too, he don't like being fooled especially with a mere single silver shoal fish like yourself," Theon paused, "my brother Maron will stray from Rodrik's fleet and as you make your escape, he will hunt you down, kill everyone on your ship, and feed you to the sea as an offering to the drowned god."

"Theon don't say—" he stopped when Theon kissed him on the cheeks, patting him on the head, the way he did to that whore he was using earlier.

"We shared memories with Jon and the others and I know it's hard to have a change of heart especially with what we are about to do, trust me I know, but this is my family, I don't have a choice but to be with them," he said wringing his wrist and Tris saw for the first time the marks of ropes on it.

'What are those marks?' he asked himself before looking Theon in the eyes.

"You do have a choice," said Tris after, then he bowed and never looked back.

As if the gods are mocking him, on his way back to his ship, he saw Asha, walking coolly on the port.

Asha is the only daughter of Lord Balon and Lady Alannys Harlaw, a strikingly attractive young woman, slender with long legs and a black hair cut short, she'll cut down a weaker man on her path if given a chance. Tris always thought that when she walks, there is boldness on her steps; part saunter, part sway and always had a soft spot on her.

He cannot ignore the fact that she is just as strong as him, maybe even stronger and he knows she is just as dangerous as the rest of the members of House Greyjoy.

When she finally saw him, she made her way towards his direction painstakingly slow, he had to stop walking and look at her and then he finally noticed that she was not alone.

Qarl is walking behind her, also known as 'Qarl the Maid,' her lover; known as one of the fiercest warriors of the Iron Islands, he is a grandson of a thrall.

"So you finally saw him," she said when she reach him.

"Yes, a girl was servicing him when I came," he answered.

"Oh," she said with interested gaze, "did the bloody idiot asked you to join them?"

He shook his head and then she leaned in closer, eyes on him.

"Well tonight, I'm inviting you to my chamber, you and Qarl both," she said with a wink, "I'm in the mood to see sausages fighting."

She laughed and Tris thought that it sounded infectious.

"So you want to join, or not?" she asked him when he did not answer, "it will only be a few days before we sail, might as well have fun before the fighting, after all, we do not know if anyone of us we'll make it to the next day."

She has a point and it's been a while since he fucked someone.

"I'm ready if he is," he said, side glancing at the other man.

"He is devoted to me," she said, "and I know you are too," she paused, stepping back for a moment, "I'll see you tonight, I believe you know what my ship Black Wind looks like."

He and Qarl nodded at each other and then they left him.

When the night comes, he went to her cabin in a reasonable time. When he entered the room, Qarl is already naked and Asha is wearing a white thin shirt that might as well be removed because he can already see her body and it instantly made him hard.

"Ah, here he is," she said, walking towards him, so bold and adventurous.

She kissed him on the cheeks.

"Always punctual my dear Tris," she said, "do you know that we are each other's first time?" she said, side glancing at Qarl, "oh I can't forget that time, Tris here came on time as well," then she laughed and kissed him, her soft body touching his but he did not move, "and now the three of us we'll share another intimate experience."

She walked back in the bed, seating on it like an angel.

"Now, give me some entertainment," she said, "kiss each other."

He and Qarl met half way and did what she asked.

Tris thought that the kiss was urgent, like it wanted to be finished and Qarl felt hard and smells salt, unlike his past experiences with soft bodied, sweet smelling women.

"Now now," she said, cooing like a wounded hunter, "that is hardly a kiss, give me some tongue," she walk towards them, "like this," she kissed them both, doing what she wanted them to do.

And they did it but this time there was a fight for supremacy and both men did not backed down and then Asha stopped them and made them both kiss her.

"This is going to be fun," she said.

He couldn't do anything but to agree and there, the three of them experimented, pleasured each other and enjoyed until the early morning.

He woke up first, naked, hard and with a headache from all the beer they drank last night, he made his way to the window, looking at the open ocean.

It was so peaceful, the sound of the waves gently lapping on the ship and the smell of a fresh sea morning breeze, and as he gaze on the ocean, he can just imagine that on the other wise, Westeros is waiting, his friends are waiting for him.

"And I am coming," he said.

On the day before their departure, there was a fog that covered the isles; it was so thick that he couldn't see anything past his own ship.

"This is a sign," he said as he got ready, shaking with excitement and anxious.

Victarion Greyjoy, the captain of Iron Victory and the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet along with his brother Harren and the forty longships of the fleet sailed first, shouting and reveling at the fact that ironmen will finally show themselves on the fold after a long time of being silent and submissive to the wishes of the Iron Throne.

It was followed by Rodrik and Maron, the two brothers brought with them twenty longships of the Iron Fleet.

Tristifier was watching on the port as Maron's longship known as the Sea Serpent made it to the breakwater, remembering what Theon said.

The bastard is probably going to lag behind and wait for me on the open ocean.

They were given an order to follow next. He climbed his longship he now calls the Silver Fish, and barked out order to ready the sail. All of them followed and gave an 'aye captain,' as he walks by, shouting and telling instructions and as the Sea Bitch, Theon's own galley led the journey, his own Silver Fish followed, setting their course north.

Twenty of the longships from the Iron Fleet will sail with Theon and Asha and the remaining twenty ships from the hundred that consist the fleet will stay behind to defend the islands for any would be invaders.

Tristifier turned one last glance towards Lordsport, it was House Botley's pride and joy for centuries but not his. He wonders if he will ever see it again, if he will see his little brothers again.

It would be days till they reach the North and he would only need a few nights to lag behind Theon's group before finally making an escape.

He might have grown up to Kings Landing but his father, Lord Sawane Botley did not missed to educate him about the open sea and the longships of the Iron Islands. He learned from him first hand aboard his father's ship called Swiftfin and he also selected men with good maritime experience to sail with him.

On the third night of their sail, as all the other longships under Theon and Asha disappeared into view, he gave a silent command to his first mate, to change the course west and turn south.

"Captain?" Darwol asked, the first mate of his ship, a long time reaver.

"Sail to the Arbor it's the only option we have, our journey will be long and hard, we might as well be found by the Iron fleet tomorrow and we'll probably be torched, and all of us killed," he said, looking the man in the eyes, "but I know if we turned against the real king, we will die a traitors death, we will join the royal fleet, not the Greyjoy's."

With Rodrik attacking Sea Guard, Theon and Asha sailing North and Victarion Greyjoy raiding Shield Islands and the Mander, he have no choice but to reach the Arbor, the island territory of House Redwyne, a close ally of House Targaryen.

He was waiting for the first mate response and when the older man said that he is with him, Tris nodded.

And they did as he commanded and started their journey west, and turning south, going farther to the open ocean as if to avoid being seen by watchers from the Iron Islands and other unfriendly eyes. They navigated using the stars in the night as direction and followed the route throughout the day but it was all for naught, as the biggest obstacle of his decision hit them right in the face.

"A longship ahead!" called out one of the crewmates at the prow of the ship, looking out on whats ahead of them.

Tris stopped what he was doing, his sword hand now on the grip of the hilt of his sword.

'Here it is,' he said and he felt cold but not scared.

"It has the two krakens on his sail, it's the Sea Serpent of Maron Greyjoy!"

So what Theon warned him was true, he would have kiss the traitor if he is here because he prepared for the coming attack, religiously planning it to the point that it did not gave him sleep on the last few nights of his stay at Lordsport.

He climbed the deck and shouted.

"All hands to sword! All hands to sword! We will kill the bastard today!"

And all his men joined to his rage, all eager to see blood.

"I will not die, at least not today."

Chapter 23: Griff III

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They are winning, his supremacy is slowly creeping across Westeros as House Martell, House Baratheon and House Lannister's victories were heard on the land, but why he felt like he is losing?

Jonothor is as good as dead, from all the reports they received, and in one of the council meetings when they talked about the Crown Prince, his uncle even said that Jonothor's body is probably somewhere in the far north, dead in the snow and being eaten by crows and other hungry beasts. Lady Margaery's unborn babe by the Crown Prince is another issue, everyone agrees, but she is not a real threat and the babe can easily be dismissed as all Westeros knows that a grown man like him is a preferable choice for the Targaryen throne than some whelp of a dead prince and a trampled rose. It is Prince Daeron who is a real threat to him but Littlefinger[s clever idea of spreading lies of the young boys demise have been widely believed and once the young prince is on his claws again, there will be no another escape. Queen Lyanna's unborn babe is of course another issue as well but everyone is expecting her and the unborn babe to join her husband in the grave soon, with her pregnancy becoming complicated with all the horrors that's coming to her family.

And King Rhaegar, dead in a unnamed town that since been called Rhaegar's Grave.

When the news of the death of his father came, it was deep in the night and he is sitting on the chair on his bed chamber, writing something that he couldn't remember because he was thinking of a certain event that transpired on the godswood of the Red Keep a few nights back.

It was his mother, Princess Elia who came to tell him personally about the death of the Targaryen king, but what odd was, he already dreamt about the king's death two nights ago which he dismissed as quickly as he spit the small seeds of apples after consuming the sour fruit.

"Rhaegar is dead," said his mother, her face still as a statue but her eyes are brimming with tears, "your father is dead."

"How did he die?" he heard himself say.

"Lord Robert," replied his mother and that was all the answer that he needed.

He felt cold for a few seconds, wishing and hoping the news was false, his eyes bulging, feeling a rush of emotions and then suddenly something on his mind snap and now he couldn't control himself as laughter burst out from his own throat, not of happiness but because of misery and the realization that he will never see King Rhaegar again and that he would marry the daughter of the man who killed his father.

"The gods are the greatest clown," he said, his voice hysterical, "the man who killed my father will be my good father after I marry his daughter, they took my real father and then plans to give me a new one."

There was another series of laughter until his mother came to embrace him.

"Aegon," said his mother, her tears brimming with tears, "son," she looked into his eyes, trying to bring him back from the present and her face full of many emotions, "I warned you before we revealed all of this back to the Old Palace, that there will be consequences of our actions," she paused and he already knows what is about to be said, "Aegon, this is the price we pay for playing the game of thrones."

And he embrace her, but he couldn't find it in himself to cry for his dead father as her mother howled for his Rhaegar, the only love of her life.

In the morning, as the toll of great bells of the Sept of Balor was heard all across the city, Aegon remained strong. He was not able to sleep all night but her mother did. Princess Elia slept on his arms, and on the wee hours of the morning, he put her to his bed and tucked her in while he made his way to the writing table, to award and grant the wishes of his subjects.

'I am a king,' he said to himself as he administers justice on the same day at court.

He noticed that most of his subjects are wearing black gowns and tunics and there's a look of grieving on their faces.

'Did you know my father well?' he wanted to ask one of the people as the sound of the bells rang throughout the city, it was almost haunting.

'I must remain strong,' he said to himself as he willed himself to meet his betrothed, Myrcella Baratheon on the gardens.

She was wearing a black gown as well, her pretty face and blond hair a contrast on the color of mourning for the dead.

"Your Grace," she said, bowing, "I am sorry for your loss."

'This girl is always courteous, intelligent and dutiful even,' he said to himself as he revels on her beauty, 'but will she be a good wife to me, willful enough to match my personality, headstrong or adventurous? Will she be good in bed?'

He knows the answer well enough and his thoughts drifted off to that first encounter with Lady Stark at the godswood of his castle, when he gave permission to his close friend, Ser Vorian Sand to let Sansa pray to her gods.

He never wanted to meet the girl when she first arrived in the city, but he knows she is pretty enough, a lady who knows her duty as it is known that the lip worm Joffrey is so smitten with her and have been asking his mother the Lady Cersei to go forward with the wedding.

'She will be a hostage, nothing more,' he thought one night after his mother, Princess Elia discussed that he come and meet her privately, just for formalities, in which he refused bluntly.

She got his attention when Ser Vorian asked him permission to let Lady Sansa pray to the godswood.

"But these godswood is no place for a lady," he dismissed him at first, "especially at night."

"Your Grace, this is no ordinary lady," was the knight's response, "this is Sansa of House Stark," he paused, "she is no stranger to these trees as well my liege, did you know that she owns a direwolf?"

He knows. He knows everything about the girl; about what she eats, about the gowns she will wear to the balls and masquerades or at court, about what she's doing cooped up on her room, he knows it because he is the one giving permission for all of her needs to be given as she is living on his castle and an important hostage of his household.

"Granted," he said, "but I will come to see her, a dragon hunting his prey."

When the night came, he waited for about half an hour before following the pair of cousins in the godswood of the Red Keep. He still remembers that evening, there was a sweet scent in the night breeze and on the night sky, the red wanderer was very bright and visible on the moonmaid.

When he arrived at the entrance of the godswood, Ser Vorian Sand was already there, guarding it from any would be trespassers.

"Vorian," he greeted him.

Aegon was wearing a golden tunic and black trousers belted with the sun and spears of House Martell as well as a worn out travelling boots while the knight is wearing the proper attire of his ranks. He also brought with him a valyrian dagger fashioned with a lions head on its hilt, a gift from Lady Cersei, Myrcella's darling mother.

"My liege," Vorian answered, "she is inside."

"I will follow her," he said and then there he went, following the walk path of the godswood leading to the heart tree.

'This is an acre of trees,' he said to himself as he cautiously made his way to the girl among the woods, his hand never leaving the hilt of his dagger, 'this is no place for a lady no matter what Vorian's opinion of her.'

After a while when darkness covered the woods, he heard someone running coming towards him and later on she would bump into him with the force so strong both of them fell on the ground with her on top of him.

She was looking at Aegon, both of them panting, her from the running she did and him from being startled and she was on top of him, her Tully blue against his Targaryen purple and at first it seems like she recognized him, probably she thought he was his father, but then realization hits her.

"Why, I think I have caught a wolf," he said then he quickly changed their places, "and Lady Stark, I prefer to be on top."

'She is a pretty little thing,' he realized that evening, 'and fierce.'

The thought still made him smile because the girl tried to fight him off.

"Get off me!" she yelled then she accidentally slapped him in the face, not once, not twice, an act punishable by death, "get off, get off, get off!"

He obliged, leaving her on the ground and then she rose from her position, smoothing her gown and her robe without any help from him; she cleared her throat as she turned to look at him.

"That was unladylike," she sounded apologetic, bowing her head, her long hair swaying along the angle of her posture, "I hope you can forgive me, Your Grace."

By the way his face stings from all the slaps he received from the little lady, he has a feeling she is not sorry at all.

"You know me?" he asked her.

"You look just like your father, Your Grace," she answered, intently looking at him.

That was not the first time someone mentioned the resemblance, or the last.

"So," he started, "here she is, the future lady of Storms End."

He waited for her reaction and he thought that she is good from hiding her thoughts because she gave him a polite nod and a smile.

"As you say, Your Grace," she replied to him.

'She is calculating me,' he thought as he saw her suspecting blue eyes, 'are you a friend or an enemy?'

He wonders if she can play the game as well.

"You are soon to be wed to Joffrey," he said, "as per my permission to this arrangement."

He did not say it, but she should know that he has the final say about this.

"Your Grace, I've been counting the days," she said, looking so hopeful that he almost wanted to believe it, "and I hope you'll soon approve of this matrimony."

'So she does know a thing or two,' he thought as he plays along.

"As you wish my lady," he said, "walk with me, will you?"

He offered his arm in which she accepted willingly.

"You were praying, my lady?" he asked her as he started to walk towards to direction of the heart tree but Sansa did not move

"I was, Your Grace," she answered, her voice reluctant, "but we should not go there, just a while ago someone was chasing me."

"Oh, the little wolf is scared," he commented, "do not be afraid my lady, for I am with you," he paused, showing her the hilt of the dagger he brought, "and I did not come unarmed as well."

She stared at the lion head hilt and then smiled.

"Gods are good then," she said, holding the crook of his arm more tightly, "what else is there to be scared of when I have my knight with me."

And the two of them went further deep in the godswood, in silence. Aegon has a feeling Lady Sansa is thinking of what she'll do and say next and as they walk, he smell her intoxicating perfume, a nice touch of how ladylike she is.

When they reach the heart tree, she gently disentangled from him and went to the tangle of branches where she went to her knees and prayed.

He watch her in silence, the little thing, praying silently, her eyes closed and as the night breeze blows gently, her long hair swayed and Aegon realized she is indeed very attractive, a real proper lady with the fierceness of her northmen kin by the way his face still stings from the earlier onslaught of her dainty hands, but he couldn't ignore the fact that she is an enemy, even though she'll be with the Baratheon's soon.

'She is a Stark of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn of House Tully, and the fact that she is one of the precious nieces of the queen.'

When she finished, she stood up and turned to look at him.

"I heard that when you pray and when you are in front of the heart tree, you must bare yourself, your thoughts, you must be honest for the bloody eyes sees all," he said, eyeing the face of the heart tree.

"Indeed," she agreed with a nod.

"So tell me Lady Sansa," he said now looking at the girl, "with no pretentions and no farce," he paused, stepping forward closer to her, "what do you want?"

She stared at him, deep down in his soul and he almost back down for she brought with that gaze the fury and the cold of the north.

"We never really get what we want," she said, her voice as steely and as cold as her eyes, "what we get is what is in front of us," then she kissed him on the cheeks, "Your Grace, I must go, the night is getting late."

He absentmindedly touched the cheek where she damped her lips.

"Your Grace?" there was a voice amidst the sound of birds and trees, "Aegon?"

And he was brought back to the garden where he is standing in front of Lady Myrcella.

"Forgive me my lady," he apologized, "what were you saying again?"

"My brother Joffrey will lead the escort for my father, to bring him safely back to Storms End," she answered, "and then hopefully he will be back with us to marry Lady Sansa at years end."

'He hopes he dies somewhere in the Riverlands,' he thought, 'the bastard doesn't deserve a wife as fine as Lady Sansa.'

"That is good to hear," he commented then he kissed her on her forehead, "my lady, my council calls."

His guard for the day is Ser Daemon Sand and as he make his way to the council chamber, the knight is walking in front of him while a pair of Martell household guards is behind him.

"When is the departure of the Baratheon boy?" he asked his guard and one of his closest friends.

"In a fortnight, Your Grace," he answered without looking at him, as Daemon leads the way.

When they arrived on the council chamber, his small council is already waiting.

"I'm sorry my lords," he apologized when he got a good look at everyone, "I was held back by some business."

His uncle, Prince Oberyn is there, sitting casually, his face looks bored, and then the Grand Maester, looking sleepy. Lord Yronwood is sitting straight like an arrow and opposite to him, the Lady Cersei, looking radiant and very beautiful and to the chair nearest where Aegon will take his place is Lord Petyr Baelish, scrutinizing everyone with those power grabbing eyes of his.

Usually some other men and women as well as a dwarf should have been with them but for some reasons only these people made it for today's meeting.

"Your Grace, you are never late, we just came a little bit early," it was the grand maester, who always wanted to impress him with some wise words.

He took his seat, and waited who'll croak next.

"We are winning," it was Lord Yronwood, "if we crash the loyalists army on the Riverlands, our victory will be at hand."

"If," said Lord Baelish, "Robb Stark is marching south with the second wave of northern army on his back, the Royal Fleet remains intact in Dragonstone as well as the Redwyne and Manderly fleet and Lord Tyrell's chivalry of the south is still fighting our friends in Stormland and Dorne, we are in a standoff, my lord," he paused, glancing at Aegon, "one tip on the wrong foot and we might lose our hard earned victories but with a great plan, I am with you that our victory is at hand," always with the pretty words, this Lord Baelish.

"Robb Stark is a boy," countered the grand maester, "he is not Lord Eddard, and the Royal fleet will remain in Dragonstone to protect the Stark Queen, so the seas are ours."

"I am also a boy and not my father," Aegon reminded the old man, "we shouldn't discard this Robb, we don't know, maybe he'll be the tipping point for the loyalist army to win."

"Ah of course, Your Grace," said the grand maester, nodding his head so slowly, "but you and Robb Stark are a different sort, for starters, you will not marry an impoverish noble family and also an enemy of your house."

'We never know,' he wanted to say but one look from Lady Cersei and he dropped the jest immediately.

"House Greyjoy came to the fold as well, fighting for your name, and as we speak, Lord Balon's heir, Rodrik, is besieging Seaguard, and his two younger children, Asha and Theon is now raiding the northern coast," Aegon was well informed about Lord Balon's plans and he thought that the squid lord have one more son but he dismissed the thought, thinking that one Greyjoy is as irrelevant as one more hedge knight trying to buy his way on his household knights, "the lord captain of the Iron Fleet, Victarion, is now at the mouth of the Mander as well with half of the Greyjoy fleet, that should give Lord Tyrell some consideration of where to put his army next,"

"Perhaps we should discuss about Lord Bolton as well?" asked Lord Yronwood, "is it done? He is on our side?"

"It is done," answered his uncle, Prince Oberyn, "the man is mad with grief, we just had to play with his tragedy for him to betray his liege lord," he paused, turning to look at Aegon, "nephew, you will not marry someone from a poor family for sure, but maybe it is time to say your vows to Lady Myrcella? The pride and joy of House Baratheon and Lannister?"

The only woman in the council took that as a cue.

"The armies of House Lannister and House Baratheon led by my father and my husband, are out on the field fighting for you and Myrcella's name, Your Grace, they've lost too much," Lady Cersei's look is as soft as a lion cub, "they suffered great loss, it is high time we give them something to celebrate."

Aegon doubts that the Lannister woman is concerned about anyone other than her own children, and he already knows where the conversation is going.

"Your Grace," she said, her emerald eyes intently on him, "your council begs you, it is time you and Myrcella exchange vows, for the good of our alliance and for the continued growth of your line and for the future of House Targaryen."

He took a deep breath, looking at everyone on the table, finding them with eager faces of what his answer would be.

'These people are sheep's,' he thought, 'and they forgot that I am a dragon.'

"Very well then," he said, "me and Myrcella will say our vows," all of their faces beamed, "but after Joffrey come back from escorting Lord Robert, we shall give the people of the realm two things to celebrate, the union of House's Targaryen, Baratheon and Stark, we shall have a double wedding."

He omitted to mention Lady Cersei's maiden name and Aegon saw that it didn't seat well for the proud woman as he saw her lips twitch for a bit before smiling serenely.

He don't care if he displease her, if he displease any of them, they can't do anything but to obey him.

In the evening of that same day, he was walking with Ser Vorian Sand on the inner wall of the castle after a sparring session with his soldiers on the yard when he came upon the Baratheon boy with Lady Sansa, the two seems to be talking, and Aegon saw that Lady Stark is keeping herself from crying.

"Your Grace," it was Joffrey who saw him first, he looks startled and uncomfortable.

"Your Grace, Ser Vorian," Lady Sansa curtsied next, "I hope the two of you are well?"

Joffrey is wearing a black tunic with golden laces as well as black trousers and black boots, the color of mourning, on the other hand, Lady Sansa is wearing a muted color of gray, the color of her house and a black precious stone fashioned with the fish of her mothers house is clipped prettily on her auburn hair.

"We are," it was his guard.

It was odd to hear his close friend Vorian, talking freely to a girl, from what Aegon remembers, he is a shy ball of mess when he did talk to Arianne before. The princess even remarked that Ser Vorian is a much better guard than a drinking companion.

"I don't know how you have the patience to talk with him Egg," she said to him that long time ago, "what can he contribute to the conversation? A talk about swords?"

And then he realized that it should be better to marry Lady Sansa to Ser Vorian, a dangerous thought.

'If that should happen, the Northerners must accept the union between Lord Eddard's daughter and Brandon's love child,' he said, 'thus making my hold on the realm more secure,' he paused, turning to look at his friend, 'and he will get the name of the Stark as well.'

But the thought is too far fetch. The Baratheon's will surely not accept that fact. Littlefinger, if he could be trusted with his filthy words, have claimed that Lady Cersei was hoping that Robb perished as well as Lady Sansa's younger brothers, so Winterfell will pass to his son, Joffrey's line.

'And if Joffrey dies on the road together with his father, the bastard lord Robert,' Aegon turned to look at the Baratheon boy, Lady Sansa will surely be betrothed next to little Tommen, who is with Lord Tywin on the field, 'his death will be easy to arrange as well,' he thought darkly, 'two deaths I am considering to arrange Lady Sansa,' he turned to look last at Lady Sansa, who's face has gotten vulnerable, and Aegon almost wanted to keep her close, and whisper to her that everything will be all right, 'those blood will be on your hands my lady, as well as mine.'

"Joffrey, what seems to be the problem?" he asked, "Lady Sansa, are you ok?"

Aegon stepped closer, gently taking her chin, inspecting her face closely.

"A real man never let his woman cry, in bed or in the yard," he commented, withdrawing from her when he saw the girl blink a few more times to hide the tears brimming on her eyes.

"Your Grace," Joffrey stammered, "I've never done anything of the sort," he explained.

"I was just sad Your Grace," it was Lady Sansa's turn, "that Joffrey will ride straight to the battlefield."

"But I think you don't have to worry that much, my lady," said Ser Vorian, trying to lighten up the mood, "I often see Joffrey carrying a sword, I believe he can fight well when he get caught in any skirmish on the road."

"Well let's hope he'll not get caught to any of that and have a safe passage home for his father," said Aegon who stepped back from the Stark girl, "Ser, come, we are interrupting the two lovebirds."

Joffrey and Lady Sansa vowed to him before he and Vorian continue on their way to his room. When the two of them did get to his room, he asked his friend to arrange someone to call Littlefinger.

"Lord Petyr Baelish is a dangerous man," warned the knight, "should you talk to Prince Oberyn instead?"

"The two of them are both dangerous and selfish men," he countered, "but I would rather make an enemy of Lord Baelish than with a prince of dorne," he paused, "if things will go as plan Vorian, you will finally see your father's home castle, you want that right?"

For a brief seconds, there was reluctance on the eyes of the knight but then it vanished and nodded his head in agreement.

"I will bring him myself, Your Grace," said Ser Vorian.

The words reminded him of Ser Gerold Dayne that time when he followed the Stark girl in the godswood for the second time.

She really did picked his interest towards her; as he saw her a few more times after the two of them met on the godswood the first time, once on the throne room where he saw her wearing a simple gown of gold with her hair on her shoulders and talking with everyone who comes to her, the two gave the briefest glance towards each other a few times and that made his uncle, Prince Oberyn pause, telling him that what he is doing a dangerous for them, the second time he saw her is on the gardens, his betrothed, Lady Myrcella and Lady Sansa were walking hand in hand, both looking radiant and womanly, being followed by ladies in waiting serving under the two and their septas, and the last time he saw her was when he visited her directly, they talked on her room about Vorian, because he wanted to know what is her impression of him as he is intent to go with his plan, they talked right in front of her friend Lady Jeyne, her septa and his guard Ser Daemon, and on the evening of that same day, he earned a visit from Princess Elia, asking him what he is doing.

"I am simply being a good host, mother," he told her, "you don't need to worry, I know my responsibilities and duties to our cause."

"Don't play with fire Aegon," she warned him, "your hold on the throne rest on the support of the Lannisters and Baratheons, dwell on that thought tonight."

And he did.

"Your Grace," said Lady Sansa, who was obviously surprise to see him on the godswood, following her on the second time, "you honor me with your presence."

"My lady, I hope I did not disturb you," he said.

"I was praying for Joffrey's safe passage," she said, "and for the war to end, soldiers have died in thousands."

"That's why they are soldiers," he countered, "it's meant that way."

"Not when you are a woman," she replied, looking at him intently, "we wish for the safety of our family, whether they are soldiers or merchants or masons, we want them with us, safe and sound."

"Well I guess that's why the gods made me a man," he said, "because my uncle Prince Doran thought me to fight for what I want, not just to pray to the gods for something I need."

"And what do you need Your Grace?" she asked her, and she put her hands just below her ample breast, the stance made her more attractive for him.

"Everything," he answered and he step closer to her, not breaking their gazes towards each other, "are you nervous my lady?"

"No," she said and he can smell her sweet breath, "are you?"

Aegon turned to look at the heart tree, if he lies, the gods will know.

"Yes," he answered, "I am scared of you Lady Sansa Stark, you are my greatest enemy."

She smiled at that, a half smile.

"That amused you?" he asked her and he realized they are so close together, one step and he can take her for his own, damn Joffrey and Vorian, he wants her, he wants her for himself!

"I am not your greatest enemy, Your Grace," she paused, "your greatest enemy is yourself."

But she is his greatest enemy, he thought as they return to the entrance of the godswood.

"Your Grace," greeted Ser Gerold, "my lady."

Lady Sansa nodded at him.

"Ser, do your duty to Lady Sansa, bring her to her chambers," he commanded the knight in which Ser Gerold nodded, understanding the tone of his voice.

"I will bring her safely back to her chambers," he said, mirroring the same sentiments of his dear friend, Vorian Sand when he asked him to get Littlefinger.

On the day of the departure of the Baratheon boy, Aegon was there himself, seeing the honor guard that will bring Lord Robert home. The honor guard consists of soldiers known to be loyal to House Baratheon as well as some personal guards from the Lannisters that will be with Joffrey on the road.

Ser Colen of Greenpools will lead the escort while Sandor Clegane, the burned dog of House Lannister will be the personal guard of Joffrey at least until they meet up with Lord Robert's party as it is known the huge man is thirsty of bloodshed and would like nothing more but to join the battle under Lord Tywin's van. He was able to sneak in some men under the employ of Littlefinger at the last minute among the party, it's not much but he needs some pieces for this game and they will play those parts.

Everyone was there to see Joffrey Baratheon off, notable among them are Lady Cersei, his betrothed Lady Myrcella, Princess Elia, the Sandsnakes Lady Obarra and Lady Tyene, Lady Ashara and her nephew, Edric Dayne, Ser Deziel Dalt the knight of Lemonwood and more nobles that Aegon couldn't care to name.

And standing beside his grandmother, the dowager queen, Queen Rhaella, Sansa Stark is singing the Westerosi song of "A Kiss to the Brave".

When the procession started, the Stark maiden and his grandmother sang with the other talented noblewoman of court, as the honor guard leaves the Kings Landing via the River Gate.

'She is not only adept on how the court works, she is indeed gifted with the womanly arts that men from Westeros desires,' he thought as he listen to her sweet voice.

Towards the end of the song, when Lady Stark sang the words of "for thee who is brave and true, I will be waiting for thee," for the last time, Joffrey Baratheon got down from his horse, leaving the procession and making his way to his betrothed, embracing her tightly and kissing her on the forehead.

It was a sweet sentiment that made the huge crowd cheer more for the two lovers and all the while he couldn't stop stealing glances at the Stark lady who is wearing the black and gold colors of Joffrey's house.

'This is wrong,' he said to himself.

He realized that for the first time in months, Queen Rhaella seems to be in a much better mood as she try to cheer up Sansa and how the Stark lady seems to glow from something within even though her eyes are red shut from crying, saying good bye to her betrothed.

'Is it youth or it's just my initial interest towards her?

He is indeed interested with her; on her connection with his best friend Vorian, on how their families are tied together by the past and the present events, on how she seems to be the best candidate to be a kings wife, being Queen Lyanna's niece, as well as having the Tully connections that may help him with the riverlords, and in turn she is also Lady Arryn's niece, so the Vale must concede on that thought alone.

And then she made a quick glance to his betrothed.

'She is pretty, there is no doubt about that, she is also the only granddaughter of the great lion, Lord Tywin but she is lacking on fire,' he thought ruefully as he turned to look at Lady Sansa again, who is now talking gently to her friend, Lady Jeyne.

After the procession, everyone started leaving, Aegon let the ladies of the court leave first and all the while, he can see Queen Rhaella talking with Lady Sansa as the Targaryen guards guide them back to the Red Keep.

"She is a lovely girl, isn't she?" it was Tyrion Lannister, who since the imprisonment of his beloved brother, Ser Jaime, have turned to drinking from the sun up to the sun down from what Lady Cersei have been reporting.

Aegon did not answer, instead, he turned to look at the Baratheon party and he saw Lady Cersei eyeing him and Tyrion, so he turned to look next at the little man who seems to be sober enough for a little talk.

"My condolences for your father's death, Your Grace," Tyrion said and true enough, the Lannister imp is still wearing the color of mourning, "but it is curious that both father and son can't resist the charm of a Stark women?"

"Mind your own business, imp," said Ser Daemon, the tone of his voice giving off warning, who together with Ser Vorian is his guard for the day.

"There is no need to threaten me Ser," said Tyrion, "I know my place," he paused, "one last sentiment Your Grace, my sister is a formidable enemy and so is my father."

And he left him, disappearing on the sea of people with his cutthroat guard Bron.

When he was about to go back to the castle, he was stopped by his best friend, Vorian.

"Aegon," he said, "news about the war."

"Tell me," he said.

"Robb Stark marched south and slaughtered our men camped on Harroway Town under the command of Lord Brax, killing him as well," said the knight, "our hard earned progress going to Riverrun have been halted by Lady Sansa's brother," he paused, "and we received news that Lady Margaery delivered a healthy baby boy, she did not died as what the council wished."

'Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell, a pair of trouble indeed,' he thought.

"I think its time I go to the field as well," he said, "what is Lord Tywin doing? Letting a great oaf like Andros Brax to lead the men so near to the loyalist forces?"

"I can't answer about Lord Tywin, but the council will not let you leave the city, Your Grace," countered the knight, "not until you secured your own child with Lady Myrcella."

"Damn her and her family," he said in frustration, and then the knight laid his hand gently on his right shoulder blade.

"Aegon, please control yourself," he said in whisper, "news of Princess Daenerys, a merchant ship from across the narrow sea brought a tale with them that somehow, she were able to hatched three dragon eggs."

"Dragons?" he asked, then he remembered his cousin, "and Quentin?"

"Have abandoned us to fight loyally to Daenerys," he whispered, "that's why Prince Oberyn was not able to come with us, he is in pure rage about the betrayal of his own nephew."

'Princess Daenerys with three dragons and a horde of dothraki screamers on her back would be a problem,' Aegon thought wearily and he realize that she might want to get revenge for killing her beloved brother Rhaegar, but he dismissed her for now, thinking that her dragons are still hatchling[s and would take a few years to become a real threat and it is known that dothraki soldiers don't cross the salt sea as well.

"When we go back to the castle, we will go directly to Myrcella, I will marry her tonight and put a child on her as soon as possible," he said, his hands shaking at the thought of losing the war that he thought was already on his fingertips, "I need to fight on the field and finish the war, then prepare for the coming storm."

Notes:

With how our world changed so drastically in just a short period of time because of the pandemic, I hope you guys are always taking care of yourselves and staying safe and healthy. Please, always wear face mask and avoid going to crowded places! For anyone who is wondering, Margaery's chapter will be next and will be uploaded soon. I hope y'all liked Aegon's third chapter. Thank you all for the patience and support!

Chapter 24: Margaery II

Notes:

No promises but I intend to finish this story this year. I would try to update once a week. And please if anyone will read and finish the chapter, I hope you'll put your thoughts on the comment section, the good, if there is any and the bad (i know there are tons). Thanks!

Chapter Text

A wisp of brown hair and a puffy smooth skin, her babe seems to be the most precious thing she ever laid eyes on.

"You are my darling boy, born to rule the Seven Kingdoms," Margaery muttered, as if talking to her son, observing him sleeping on the safety of his crib and she couldn't help but to be a little bit emotional as in truth, she delivered the babe too early and she was afraid she'll lose him on the process but the gods are good, he's alive and well, strong and clinging into life though a little bit smaller than she would like as he was delivered two months earlier than her expected date.

"He is a fighter," said Ser Myles Mooton when the kingsguard saw him the first time, "if he grows up to be a king, I can see him doing great things for his people and for House's Targaryen and Tyrell."

On Margaery's mind and thoughts, the knights words should happen, must happen! All the hard work put on by her grandmother, Lady Olenna Tyrell, as well as her father and mother, Lord Mace and Lady Alerie is to have a Tyrell blood seating on the Iron Throne.

"You are the answer for their dreams my dear love," she said, now carrying the baby gently on her arms, "but you are my son first and maybe the only child I will ever have."

They received long time ago, the news of the attack on her husband's party far into the North of the Wall. She did cry for Jon, just the thought of him dying almost made her mad but it was Queen Lyanna who comforted her, saying she must be strong for her unborn babe back then.

"Men do stupid things, Margaery," she told her, "especially when they are in company of their own sex, and you can imagine how my son can be, especially when he's there with the knights and soldiers who would die for him, I don't believe that he is dead but what we can do now is to move on and look forward for the future," she touched her hands and suddenly, for a very short moment, the queen became emotional and there were tears on her eyes, "I grieve with you good daughter, Jon is the darling prince of the seven kingdoms, but he is my first born and my dear son," and the queen cried.

In the eyes of Westeros, Her Grace is still the crowned queen as Jon never ascended the throne and Myrcella Baratheon is betrothed to the thief, who is now sitting on the Iron Throne and is not yet married to the usurper, thus making Queen Lyanna, the Queen Regent of Westeros and not her or Myrcella, a title she hoped to have long time ago.

"It was the one thing my house wanted," she said after putting down her babe back on her crib, now she is standing on the balcony of the tower where Jon's apartments are located, overlooking the town and the sea below, the morning light was just starting, "the first Tyrell queen of Westeros," she thought sadly.

The only comforting thing for her now is that Daenerys is not here to witness her struggles.

'She is out there across the narrow sea, on the eastern lands and from what the talk that is going around coming from the port, she became the wife of a powerful horselord of the dothraki sea,' it was a strange thought, how she tried to demean the princess way back before, and now the Tyrell's hold on the throne is threadbare and she knows when the queen on the east turns her eyes on the west, the thread can easily be burned as Margaery couldn't see Daenerys obeying anyone but her brother, His Grace King Rhaegar, and now the king is dead.

Her only hope is that they win the war on Westeros as soon as they can and she and her baby boy be installed on the throne as the new monarch with the support of her house and their allies.

"Jon, where are you?" she asked in the wind and suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Your Highness," it was Ser Myles, one of the three remaining Kingsguard from King Rhaegar's reign, the other one is Ser Barristan, who is fighting in the riverlands and then Ser Jaime who is a prisoner of the new king, "are you awake, might I come in?"

"You can Ser," she answered and the knight entered.

The tragic events on the royal family have taken its toll on the knight as well, as Margaery noticed the haggard look on Ser Myle's once handsome and smiling face, 'it must be hard for him, not being there beside his liege and outliving the man he sworn to protect.'

"Any news of the war Ser?" she asked him.

The knight stood near the crib of her baby boy, looking at the babe.

"Ironmen on the Reach," he started.

House Greyjoy has finally shown their true traitorous colors by siding with the usurper, one of the many betrayals against King Rhaegar and not the last.

"Your father along with your youngest brother, have pulled back the chivalry of the south from the borders of Stormland and Dorne, to defend Highgarden," he paused, "Lady Olenna have dispatch a bird to Oldtown as well, requesting for assistance against the invading squids."

Margaery have to seat, just thinking about her poor grandmother.

Lady Olenna was the one who insisted on going back to Highgarden when the war started, she was against it but her grandmother is as stubborn as an ox.

'Nana, please take care of yourself,' she muttered to herself, thinking of a horde of ironmen raiders, disembarking on their boats and attacking her home castle and her grandmother on the tallest tower being protected by two guards against the coming wave of Lord Greyjoy's men, she had to say a quick prayer to the mother to protect her people especially Lady Olenna whom she love so dearly.

"The usurper have taken Lord Robert's daughter as a wife as well, the ceremony had been a quick affair as we heard Aegon wants to join the fray on the field," he paused, "and Robb Stark, his cousin Harrold and your brothers Willas and Garlan have won their third victory on the battlefield against Lord Tywin."

She wanted to rejoice, hearing the accomplishments of their allies, of her brothers but she paused, seeing the face of the man.

"Ser?" she asked him.

"Princess," he said, his voice as grave as his face, "Winterfell has fallen."

Her imagination couldn't comprehend how a castle as mighty as Winterfell would fall against any invading armies.

With its colossus outer and inner walls, its deep moat, the thousand acre of godswood and the intricate design of the castle to defend itself against any invading army, she couldn't believe how it happened.

"How?" she asked him.

"The Boltons and the Greyjoys," he answered.

"And Brandon?"

"If the reports are true, he's been captured by Lord Bolton, but I would rather eat in the lair of poisonous vipers than to believe anything that traitor says," said the knight, his voice grumbling with anger.

They are indeed in a dire situation because if the entirety of the North will fall, their army on the riverlands will be trapped by three sides namely the Bolton's in the north, the Lannister's in the west and the usurpers men on the south.

"Did you tell the queen?" she asked him.

"No," the knight turned towards the door, "I don't have the heart to tell her the truth, her husband dead, her two sons as well, her brother captured," he sighed, "her delivery for Rhaegar's last babe is late as it is, I don't want to complicate the situation more."

It was true, Queen Lyanna's delivery of her babe has been delayed now for almost one month, neither her situation of turning melancholic is helping as well as the queen commanded everyone not to go near her. With the Lord Hand captured, it must fall to the queen to command her late husband's men but she gave the reigns to lead the men to Ser Barristan and Ser Myles and that is what's happening.

"What must be done?" she asked him.

"Well we cannot surrender now so what we can do is to fight and grow, so today as agreed between myself and Barristan and as for your recommendation, we will welcome a new Kingsguard," said the knight, "Ser Arys will fill the one of the shoes of my fallen brothers and we will find more worthy men to join our ranks."

"So it's good then," Margaery said, but she knows the reason Ser Myles rushed to the decision is for him to be free of her and the queen and join his ranks camped on the riverlands.

That ended their talk. It was Ser Myles habit to report to her any news of the war, as if Margaery is a queen and can do something about the coming storm.

'I must do something,' she said to herself when the last of Ser Myles white cloak have left Jon apartments.

Mornings on Dragonstone is a busy affair and even though the war is going on around them, her ladies in waiting, her cousins mostly, were there to give her company.

These includes Elinor Tyrell, a willowy and witty cousin of Margaery who is betrothed to Alyn Ambrose, Alla Tyrell who is shy and pretty and sings as prettily as her face, the loud and fat Megga Tyrell who loves experimenting with boys, the young Alyssane Bulwer, the Lady of Blackcrown, Lady Janna Fossaway, Margaery's own aunt, Meredyth Crane and Taena of Myr who is the oldest among the group of attendants of the supposedly future queen of Westeros. Margaery also has Northmen ladies one of which is Alys Karstark, a tall, skinny and coltish girl and Mira Forrester who has been one of her lady attendants since they were in Highgarden.

"I wish the war would end," it was Lady Taena, a beautiful woman of color, "I want to see Kings Landing full of golden roses of House Tyrell and for our two boys to grow up together and be best of friends."

'This woman is ambitious,' she thought.

"I wish that too," she replied, "but we cannot wish the war to end," she paused, looking at each of her lady companions, "we need to win it by sweat and blood."

"What are you suggesting princess?" asked the Karstark girl.

"Our men are out there, fighting in the field," she said, "it is left for us, the women, to give all the support we can to them."

"Any ideas Princess?" asked Meredyth, "we can only do so little, with whatever scarce resources we have."

"We can do so much Meredyth," she told her lady companion, "hire fighting men across the narrow sea, align ourselves with families still neutral or with the enemy by marriage and make new alliances that will benefit the war effort against the usurper and his dogs."

And so the ladies share their respective ideas, of houses that are still neutral or can be swayed to join their efforts to win the war.

"Beyond the Wall, a mountain valley in the peaks of the frostfangs, a clan of wildlings known as the Thenns resides. Everyone agrees that they are more like us as they have laws and lords, and I heard my father discussing to Lord Umber that the Thenns are equipped with bronze helms, axes and swords. Aside from that, they mine tin and copper to forge their own arms and armor, unlike the other wildlings who would just steal it. They are proud and brave."

"And savage on the battlefield as well," added Mira, a fellow northman to Alys.

Margaery saw that the story had an effect on her companions, most of them awed about the Thenns and scared.

"We will write to the Lord Commander then," she said, breaking the silence, "someone must know these men, we can offer them lands and a lady in waiting for their lord," she eyed Alys.

The glance was not remiss by her cousin Megga.

"Do you mean to offer Alys?" she asked, her voice surprised, in which she replied;

"I do not have the power to do such things, cousin, but it can be arrange if Lord Karstark can be swayed and if Alys agrees, to help the effort of the war."

"I do not mind to marry a savage warrior if its to help my liege lords and our cause," Alys Karstark replied, proudly.

With Alys bravery and Margaerys wits, the ladies became more open to the thought of helping the war effort, however small may it be and the morning and afternoon was dedicated on that.

"Let me write with you tonight, princess," it was Lady Taena, "let me handle hiring the myrish mercenaries and sellsails, they know that the Iron Throne and House Tyrell will compensate them well, they would greatly augment our men both in field and sea."

"If you insist," answered Margaery.

That evening, after her son is paraded on the great hall of Dragonstone, filling everyone with cheer seeing the blood of Prince Jonothor alive and beating through her son, the time for naming Ser Arys Oakhart to Kingsguard finally came.

It was officiated by Ser Myles Mooton and as a standee to the queen, Margaery was the one who laid the sword on the shoulders of Ser Arys Oakhart.

Ser Arys fought on the onset of war with Margaery's brothers but has been given the tasked of protecting her and her unborn babe as per the instruction of King Rhaegar.

When it was all said and done, another knight rose to bolster the rank of the Kingsguard, whose primary duty now is to defend her little baby boy, the future of House Targaryen; his rights, his safety, his secrets and other duties a knight on their ranks must perform.

"They will flock on you my son," said Margaery as she gave the babe to the one of the dozen wet nurse to bring him to Jon's chamber.

Trailing behind them is the newly anointed knight of the kingsguard.

"His first duty," it was Ser Myles.

"I wonder when he will feel the need to name another, just so he can join you and Ser Barristan in the field?"

"Don't say that princess," said the knight who's standing beside her near the entrance of the great hall, "it was Rhaegar's wish to add Ser Arys to our ranks, as a replacement of Ser Willis Wode, who died protecting Prince Daeron when the usurper stole the throne."

That was all in the past now; His Grace King Rhaegar as well as Ser Willis have died on this war and if the reports are true, even the little Prince Daeron.

"I am just scared Ser, not for my safety, but for my son," she answered, amidst the noise of the cheer and celebration on the great hall, "it's hard to admit it but Jonothor is gone, my father and my brothers are out there in the field as well and the ones remaining here are noble ladies who follow me like a flock of hens."

"I wouldn't be so worried princess," answered the knight, "word has it that you and your hens have sent ravens from the rookery of the castle," then Ser Myle paused, "it might be that this war would be won because of you, for all we know."

"Just trying to do my duty for our cause, ser," answered Margaery.

"You would be a good regent to your son," remarked the knight.

That was the last time that Margaery saw Ser Myles Mooton, a loyal man and dutiful to His Grace, King Rhaegar because he departed to join the fighting in the riverlands soon after that same evening.

That night, as she stands over the sleeping little princeling, watching his little breath, almost afraid that the sign of life would stop, thinking about the knight who left them to join the fray on the riverlands, she wished that if her son would ascend the Iron Throne, they would find a man as worthy as Ser Myles to fill the rank of his Kingsguard.

In the morning of the third day of Ser Arys appointment on the Kingsguard, a servant came to her, telling her that Her Grace wants to have a word.

She quickly dressed and washed her face, thinking what could be the reason for this early summon. Her cousin Elinor and Alla was left in charge to look after her son until her return.

On her way to the queens apartment, she is flanked by two Tyrell household guards, crossing bridge ways and covered pathways in the design of a dragon, Margaerys is always amazed on how different the designs of the castle was compared to Highgarden.

When they reach the entrance of Queen Lyanna's apartments, two Targaryen knights are guarding it.

"The queen summoned me," she said to no one in particular.

The knight on her left opened the heavy bronze door for her.

"Wait for me here," she told her two companions as she entered the room.

The queens apartments is not as big as Jon's but its faces the town of Dragonstone where noises of its townfolk can be heard. Outside on the balcony is a garden full of flowers as Queen Lyanna is fond of flowers.

Margaery found Her Grace sitting on the cushioned chair overlooking her garden, heavy with child; she is being attended by Maester Crastier, one of the maesters of the castle and two lady servants one of which is the queens longtime friend, Wyllah.

"Margaery," said the queen.

Margaery thought that there was a change on the queens mood.

'There is something I don't know that lighten the mood of Her Grace,' she thought as she came over to her, kissing her cheeks.

"My queen," she said, "you called for me?"

"I did," said the queen, "Maester, share to her the news."

Suddenly Margaery felt nervous, almost afraid.

"Princess," said the maester, "a raven from Castleblack."

'Jonothor,' she said.

"Lord Commander Mormont wrote that Prince Jonothor is alive and is now leading an army of wildlings, to cross the Wall."

Margaery has to control herself not to fall on her knees.

'Jon, alive and leading an army?'

"Mother have mercy," she said aloud, tears on her eyes, Wyllah run towards her and held her hand, "my husband is alive!"

And then Her Grace came to her, tears also on her eyes.

"Jon is alive," she said, her voice so relieved Margaery can feel it as they embraced each other, "my son is alive!"

What happened next was a blur to Margaery. She just remembered going back to her chambers, carrying her son on her arms and crying. Her cousins and ladies in waiting were there and when they learned the news, everyone clapped, cheered and celebrated.

The whole castle seems to rejoice about the return to the grave of Prince Jonothor, even the small folk of Dragonstone, down to the port were heard celebrating and that evening, they received the news that finally, Her Grace is now on labor.

She led her ladies to the small sept of Dragonstone to pray for the safety of Queen Lyanna and the babe and after two hours of praying to the Mother, a servant informed them that a babe has been delivered safely and Queen Lyanna is weak but will survive.

"What is the sex of the babe?" Lady Taena asked the servant.

"A girl, m'lady."

'A princess,' Margaery thought and she couldn't help but to think about her own son, "they would grow up together in the Red Keep."

Margaery with all her ladies in waiting went to visit the queen and her newborn babe soon after but when they arrived on Queen Lyanna's apartments, they were told that she's still recovering from her delivery and so Wylla, the most trusted servant of the queen led them to see the queens daughter located just below the apartments of Her Grace.

The room is smaller with the same balcony much like this queens and sleeping on the crib is the new princess of House Targaryen. All of them was awed when they came to see the baby, draped in the colors of King Rhaegar and sleeping peacefully.

"She will be a great beauty," Margaery commented, "look at her small heart shape face."

"Her Grace wants to name her Shiera of Dragonstone but the maester said that it's a bastard name," commented Wylla.

Margaery remembered the story of the last of King Aegon IV bastard children, one of which is a daughter named Shiera, known to be the most beautiful woman in the world during her time and Bloodraven and Bittersteel fought for her affection with hundreds of other men besides.

"She is Queen Lyanna's daughter," said Margaery, picking up the baby gently who remained on her slumber, "whatever Maester Crastier thinks is irrelevant, she will be the darling princess of the realm."

'And a worthy queen to my son.'

On the following days, ravens were received from the rookery of Dragonstone where news was delivered from the North.

"It seems the Magnar of Thenn is interested about this talk of marriage, my lady, he said his son and heir is in need of a wife and in the current events, with the wilding army on the move to the south, this opportunity cannot be looked upon," said the maester to Alys Karstark, "he is willing to offer five thousand of his fiercest warriors to fight for our cause."

"What can you say about that Lady Alys?" asked Margaery.

"Well you must help me convince my lord father then," answered the Karstark girl bravely, not once her face flinches at the thought of marrying a savage man.

"I'll write him a letter myself," said Margaery, "maester, please hand me over the ink and paper."

It was not only the news that was received, one day Taena of Myr came running to her, holding a piece of paper and out of breath.

"Princess," she said, "news from Myr, a group of sellsword named Myrish Dagger have accepted our offer, they agree to fight for your son's name."

"That is well and good," said Margaery, putting down the cup of wine on the table, and accepting the piece of paper from the bronze beauty, "surely though? They accepted the written agreement?"

"A thousand golden dragon, seven hundred fifty silver stags and all the plunders each men can take besides and lands and titles if available for any of the chosen general by the commander of the company," answered Taena, "all twelve generals have signed and the commander too, in exchange of eight thousand men, equipped with armors, short swords, daggers and myrish bows, all of them have departed the ports of Myr some weeks ago and will probably be here within two months."

"Be a darling and please hand me those ink and quill my lady," said Margaery, "I must send this information to Ser Barristan and to all our allies."

"At once, Your Highness," complied Lady Taena.

It was not the last of the ravens that came just after a week when they received the news of the acceptance of Myrish Dagger to fight for her son. Two ravens from Westerlands also came, one of which are from House Lefford, whom Margaery vividly recalled from his father Lord Mace, to have attended the secret meeting of King Rhaegar in Harrenhal to depose his father King Aerys. The letter contains that Lord Leo Lefford, who pulled back his men to his stronghold when Robb Stark descended from the Neck, would stay neutral for the duration of the war with a promise from Margaery that his future sons or grandsons would be a companion of her son while the last raven came from House Serrett from Silverhill, who's domain includes a river that flows from Goldengrove to the mander in the Reach.

Lord Serrett informed her that his territory is one of the nearest to the Reach and would be more beneficial to them to join their side and fight for Prince Jonothor Targaryen.

It was a suggestion from the new Kingsguard, Ser Arys Oakheart, who himself came from Old Oak, a nearby castle to Goldengrove of House Rowan. The knight informed her that members of House Serrett would always come as a guest to Goldengrove.

"I would expect more sound advice from you Ser," said Margaery, her hearts fulfilled with satisfaction and accomplishment, as she finished three letters for Ser Barristan, her father Lord Mace and to the Lady Bethany Rowan nee Redwyne, informing her of the change in allegiance of Lord Serrett and to allow the soldiers of from Silverhill to traverse their territory as Margaery have requested Lord Serrett to join the fighting to defend Highgarden against the squids.

Margaery spent her next hours on the port of Dragonstone where she bought fish and crabs to the fisherfolk along with her ladies in waiting.

The market is buzzling even though Westeros is at war as evident with the war galleys of the Iron Fleet moored on the port and scattered along Dragonstone, people has to eat and live still and as she is the wife of the Prince of Dragonstone, these people are hers.

"Take five baskets of those crabs and clams," she said to one of her guards, "as well as four more for these salmon, sardine and cod."

"At once my lady," said the guard who directed two servants to do the bidding.

Margaery was inspecting the five war galleys that the Queen is planning to send to East-Watch to give support to Jonothor who will set sail tomorrow.

"When you return here in Dragonstone, I want you to report everything you've seen and heard, first with me," she told the captain, handing him over a pouch of gold dragons.

"What do you want to know princess?" asked the captain who will lead the party North.

"Everything," she answered, "and I want him safe captain, bring him back to me if you can."

"That is the most priority princess," said the captain when suddenly, the captain turned to look at the entrance of the castle, where they can see the party bearing the standard of House Stark can be seen.

"What is Her Grace doing?" he asked.

"I don't know," answered Margaery, "I'll leave you to it then captain."

Margaery left the sailor and joined her ladies in waiting to see what is happening.

The queen is still recovering but her strength is coming back, she was leading the party with a dozen servants on her wake along with Wylla, Maester Crastier, the Kingsguard Ser Arys, a score of Targaryen knights and soldiers keeping guard.

The common folk of the island called for the queens name, in which Her Grace wave her hand to acknowledge them and quickly turned her attention to the sea.

That's when Margaery saw the ship, bearing House Targaryen and Stark's sigil.

"Ready yourselves," announced Ser Arys, his hand on the hilt of his sword, "if this is a trap, escort the queen and the princess back to the castle while we fight them off here."

But Margaery haven't felt that the ship is a threat.

"Your Grace," she said, making her way to the queen.

"Margaery," answered Queen Lyanna, "could it be?"

Margaery took the queens hand, as if to support her and both of the women who married Targaryen dragons waited with a bated breath.

Soon after the two decked war galley have lowered its sail, and a plank of thick wood was lowered.

A young man, who has a complexion of dornish came out first and once he saw that everything is safe, a herald was summoned.

"Prince Daeron Targaryen, second born son of King Rhaegar Targaryen and Queen Lyanna Stark."

Margaery heard the queen stifled a cry and taking in a sharp breath when a boy who looks like Daeron came from the other side of the makeshift bridge.

'He's grown,' thought Margaery, seeing that the prince is starting to get a lanky build.

"Mother," the boy prince said, tears on his eyes as he run towards the queen.

"Daeron," said Her Grace, running to meet her son.

Margaery couldn't help but cry seeing the reunion of the mother and son. Queen Lyanna is now crying so much that she came to support her along with Wylla.

"Grandmother Rhaella planned our escape with Ser Jaime and Lord Varys," explained the prince, "Lord Arryn perished with the others as we got pursued by King Aegon's men, but we made it finally," the prince wipe his tear stained cheeks, "Arya, Lya and Lyman are with me, but mother I'm scared about the safety of Mont, Daven and Maric, are there any news of my friends?"

"Oh Daeron, my sweet boy," said the queen, kissing Prince Daeron on both cheeks, "we received raven from Driftmark, your friends made it as well."

"And Jon?" asked the boy prince, who have visibly calmed down.

"Alive and well," this time it was Margaery who answered, "you will see your brother again, my prince."

Prince Daeron hasn't slept well, Margaery observed but it only made the boy prince more handsome. She knows that in time, many high born would fall for his comely Targaryen face and drown on his greyish eyes.

"I'm happy," said the prince, "I'm very happy mother."

"As do I," said the queen, her voice emotional and Margaery has to wipe the tears that fell from her eyes, "let us go back to the castle!" announced the queen, "my son is home!" and the castle cheered.

Chapter 25: Sansa IV

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sansa Stark is standing among the crowd of nobles inside the great hall of the Red Keep where King Aegon just finished giving audience to the folks that were affected by war; the merchants who's businesses have been affected by the fighting wants some kind of compensation for the loss of profit when Kings Landing have closed its gates when the war started, some of their caravans seized and stolen on the road and the men under their employ killed while the common folk who were farmers and fishermen outside the city are asking when they can get back to their fields and rivers to farm, fish and hunt.

"My apologies but I cannot answer these questions, what I can do is to hire abled young body to fight with me," answered the king, then he stood up from his throne, wearing a Targaryen black tunic fastened by a belt fashioned as a golden lion on the waist, it brought out the purple eyes of the young king, "once my seed quicken on the queens womb, I shall go to field and finish the war my lords and then we'll have a prosperous Westeros, this I can promise."

And the nobles cheered for the king, clapping and hooting but Sansa noticed that the farmers, fishermen and merchants did not joined in earnest.

'They did not hear what they want to hear,' she thought and the autumn starting, the farmers must have a last harvest, fishermen the last catch before the cold of winter comes.

And then all of the eyes turned to look at Myrcella as the young king made his way to hers, kissing her on the cheeks, making the young queen blush.

In contrast to her husband, Queen Myrcella is wearing a green gown, making her face gentler along with a golden necklace with a lioness pendant. Standing beside her is Lady Cersei, probably the most beautiful woman in the court this morning, wearing the same green gown but laced with golden strings, showing her slim body.

It's been more than a month since King Aegon and Myrcella have said the vows. It was a quick affair, Ser Vorian, her cousin, confided with her that His Grace wants to go to the battlefield when he learned the victories of her brother Robb, but his small council won't allow him to leave unless he has an heir planted on the queens womb.

Ladies in waiting have flocked to Queen Myrcella now more than ever, young noble ladies from Dorne, Crownlands and Westerlands, all of them excited to see if the Baratheon girl is already carrying a dragon on her belly and with the queen day and night.

"It is still too early to tell," commented the queen dowager when she was released and allowed to join the court.

Sansa is standing beside King Aegons grandmother from King Rhaegar's side. A feisty and clever woman, to save Ser Jaime from an apparent death, she confessed that she was the mind behind the escape of Prince Daeron and has been locked up on the maiden vault since, while Ser Jaime has been in a prison cell ever since his capture.

"Your Grace," greeted Sansa, "I'm happy to see you this morning."

Sansa is wearing a grey gown that shows her collarbones, the gown was a gift by Princess Elia, her auburn hair in a simple northern fashion and wearing a silver necklace with a pendant of wolfs head.

"As do I my lady," said Queen Rhaella, who is wearing the same color of Targaryen black gown like the king, as the pair moves along with the crowd towards Aegon and Myrcella to give them courtesies, "I heard a very interesting talk," the queen's voice have turned to whisper, just enough for her to hear, "looks like the apple did not fall far from the tree."

The two of them shared a knowing look.

She knows?

There was a buzz of chatter around the throne room as everyone move to see the young king and his queen, offering encouraging words from the ladies and bawdy jest from the lords.

"Don't act shy in front of Aegon," added Queen Rhaella in that whispered voice, "Targaryen men look for a daring and bold women," then the two parted ways as the older Targaryen queen turned to exchange courtesy with Myrcella while Sansa can't help but to face Aegon on the other side.

When the two of them faced each other, his Targaryen purples against her Tully blues, it was almost like she's back with the king on the godswood of the Red Keep.

"Your Grace," she said, her eyes not leaving his.

She wanted to bandy words with him, like she always does when they were alone together on the safety of the trees but she avoided it as she saw Lady Cersei, her emerald eyes looks like a lioness ready to pounce on her prey as well as Princess Elia, who came to her one night to warn her not to play with dragon fire, looking at her with calculating eyes, so instead, she turned to the other way and exchange courtesies with Myrcella while Queen Rhaella did the same with the her grandson.

"I was hoping that we could have celebrated a double wedding," said the young queen, "but Joffrey would return much later and my husband cannot wait for his return."

Sansa nodded with a smile, "I would like that as well but it is not in my place to judge the king, Your Grace," she paused, "though you look so well, married life agrees with you sweet sister," she kissed Myrcella on the cheeks and Sansa noticed that the young queen was pleased to hear her words.

She was about to leave the morning chatter of the great hall but Ser Vorian, her cousin and Lady Ashara Dayne, stopped her on her way.

"Lady Sansa," said Lady Dayne, "please, walk with me?"

It's not like she has much of a choice.

The three of them left the great hall, making their way to the gardens of the castle. Sansa is holding the crook of the left arm of Lady Ashara as Ser Vorian walk a few meters ahead of them.

"My lady, how are you?" Lady Ashara asked.

"I'm fine my lady," she answered, "I have to be or else I'll go mad."

Lady Ashara did not answer to that, when they reach a bench facing a huge pond, she told for them to seat facing the water.

"I have some news to share with you," said Lady Dayne and Sansa turned to look at the beautiful woman as she heard the urgency on her voice, "they will bring your father here, bound but alive and well."

That almost made her cry; 'Lord Eddard Stark, alive and well?'

It was said that Daeron had perished along with his companions including her sister Arya, as well as her cousin Jon and most of all His Grace, King Rhaegar and in Dragonstone, her aunt Lyanna, weak and pregnant and is expected by the members of the court of King Aegon to perish as well. So hearing the news about his father made her heart full and happy.

"My lady, how certain is this?" she asked, her voiced almost cracking while holding on the hand of Lady Ashara as if for dear life.

"It's confirmed cousin," said Ser Vorian, who did not speak until now, "King Aegon has given his permission for us to tell you this."

Sansa only noticed then that the knight is not wearing the white armor of the kingsguard, instead, he is wearing the colors of his house, a white tunic and purple trousers belted with his sword.

"But why would he want me to know?" she asked the mother and son.

"My lady," said Lady Ashara, "the boy fancies you," then she paused, looking around them and when she deemed enough that its safe, "we have eyes Lady Sansa, it is as what Lady Elia feared, that her son would be smitten with a Stark so please we beg you, cut ties with the king, talk with him out of duty but don't bandy words with him."

"He enjoys that," added Ser Vorian, "he enjoys talking with you in the godswood, he said that he knows now why his father have chosen Queen Lyanna."

"My lady, my good knight," said Sansa, alarmed suddenly of how it seems like everyone in the castle knows the fleeting moments of her and the king together, "I am betrothed to Joffrey, I am loyal to him," she paused, "my time with the king were just mere accident, he goes to the godswood to pray, he find solace with the quietness of the woods," she lied but she knows it did not convinced Lady Dayne nor his cousin.

"You remain a virgin Sansa? Please tell me," said Lady Ashara, her eyes reading into hers.

That shocked her. How could they question her dignity and from a man whom not even her betrothed. It's as if they are thinking she is some tavern slut down in the silk of streets

"No one laid a finger on me my lady," she confessed, "it is a grave sin to do fornication in the eyes of the seven, as well as in the old ways," she paused, now tears on her eyes, "I would never."

Suddenly Ser Vorian Sand was on his knee, wiping away her tears.

"My apologies cousin," he said, his voice soft and Sansa can smell his warm breath, "I told them this is nonsense, most of the time I was there with you two but they just need to make sure."

"The Baratheon boy should be here anytime soon with his bastard father, then you'll say the vows and will go with him back to Storms End," said Lady Ashara, her voice firm.

'I want to go home,' she almost said to her face, 'to her mother in Riverrun and to Winterfell.'

'Winterfell is gone,' someone said at the back of her mind, 'conquered by House Bolton and House Greyjoy.'

Lord Roose Bolton had been a banner man of her father and his house, the second most powerful house in the North while Theon Greyjoy has been a companion of her cousin, Prince Jonothor and now they both hold the stronghold castle of House Stark.

There was no news of any survivors of the castle and Sansa cried herself to sleep, praying to all the gods to keep Brandon safe along with the entirety of Stark household.

"I'm counting the days," she said, her voice failed and both the mother and son shared a look.

Lady Ashara inched closer.

"My lady, you must be strong like your lady mother," she told her, "we will have our talk again, my son, I will leave Lady Sansa to you."

Lady Ashara left them going in the direction of the great hall of the castle while the knight took his mother's place beside Sansa.

In the past few months that she had gotten to know her cousin, looking at him now, Sansa knows that something is troubling the knight.

"Cousin, what is the matter?" she asked him.

"I fear for my king," he answered, "and I fear you."

Sansa Stark is often described as beautiful but fearsome, only King Aegon and her cousin Ser Vorian have remarked that about her.

"How am I so fearsome?" she asked the knight, "I'm a girl, I don't carry any deadly weapons like Prince Oberyn's daughters."

The knight shook his head at that.

"No, you are much more than all of them combined," countered the knight, "like Princess Arianne, you have something about you that's dangerous."

The Princess Arianne, Sansa often hear about the heir of House Martell, she seems to be a remarkable lady in her own right.

"Well if you will count my wolf then yes, you can say that," she jests in which the knight half-smiled.

"Please cousin," he said after some time, "don't play my king by your hands, he is a son of the dragon but he was raised in Dorne first, so a remarkable woman like yourself is as much as a danger to us like your brother Robb."

A forthnight later, Queen Rhaella asked her for an opposite request, who somehow got invited to the company of Queen Myrcella in a fine afternoon on the gardens.

They are being guarded by the Sandsnakes, Lady Obarra with her spear and Lady Nymeria with her whip, both women wearing garments of warriors.

Sansa, along with her friend Jeyneand her Septa joined the excited chatter of women, a number of highborn ladies are present, all of whom are companions of Queen Myrcella and attending her as she wishes.

From Westerlands came Lady Janei, a young slender girl, the only daughter of Ser Kevan Lannister who's fighting with his eldest brother Lord Tywin in the Riverlands, Lady Melesa Crakehall, the wife of Ser Lyonel Frey, who is a second son of Emmon Frey, the husband of Lady Genna Lannister and Lady Joanna Swyft, the daughter of Ser Steffon Swyft, the heir of Cornfield. From Dorne came Lady Delonne Allyrion, the head and ruler of her house and the grandmother of Ser Daemon Sand, one of King Aegon's Kingsguards, Lady Larra Blackmont, the ruler of her house along with her heir, her daughter Lady Jynessa, the Fowler twins Jeyne and Jennelyn, Lady Myria Jordayne, the daughter and heir of Lord Trebor Jordayne, Lady Gwyneth Yronwood, the daughter of Lord Anders, a member of the Small Council of the king and Lady Ellaria Sand with her daughters Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza. From Crownlands came Lady Tanda Stokeworth along with her two daughters, Lady Falyse and Lady Lollys.

"It is so good for you to invite me, Your Grace," said Queen Rhaella, inspecting the young queen, "if I may be so bold, is there already a babe growing on your womb?"

"I'm going to see the grandmaester in the evening, grandmother," answered the young queen happily, "I hope our union bear fruit soon, my husband grows impatient every night."

"Well he is a Targaryen, my queen," answered Queen Rhaella with a smile, "and he is fighting a war, you must understand him."

"I do, grandmother," answered Myrcella softly, "have a seat and enjoy my little company."

"Not so little, Your Grace," commented Lady Allyrion in which all of them laugh.

Sansa noticed that Queen Rhaella went to seat first beside Lady Tanda and as the afternoon progressed, the older Targaryen queen move from one place to another while Sansa and Jeyne lost themselves among the company of women while her septa bonded with her peers on the sidelines.

Sansa shared laugh with the Fowler twins and answered questions from Lady Janei. She played with Elia and her sisters until Sansa find herself face to face with the silver haired queen again, as she catches her breath.

"I don't have much time," said the older Targaryen queen, her voice urgent, "you already bewitched Aegon with your womanly wiles, if you wish our family to win this war, then you know what to do," she paused, looking at the chatter around them, "break the alliance between the Baratheon's and the Martell's and our victory would be swift."

And then suddenly there was a cry of blood, Lady Ellaria's daughters came running to Sansa out of fear.

"What is it?" she asked them.

"Queen Myrcella," answered the little Elia.

And then there was another cry of blood from Lady Larra Blackmont.

"Blood!" she cried, "call the maester!"

Sansa saw that Queen Rhaella run towards Queen Myrcella who's skin has turned white.

"The babe," they all heard the older Targaryen queen as Sansa finally saw the blood, now evident on Myrcella's gown, "someone call the grandmaester, someone call Pycelle!"

The news was known all over the castle after that. Myrcella has lost the babe. Lady Cersei was wroth in anger when the grandmaester informed her of the miscarriage.

Sansa was standing with Lady Ellaria Sand and her daughters, recovering from the tragedy that have fallen to Myrcella, when Prince Elia came along with Lady Ashara.

"The girl seems healthy enough," said the princess, "it was informed to us by the maester of Storms End that she is fit to bear a child."

"Did someone inform the king?" asked Lady Ellaria.

"Obarra," answered the princess.

All the hopes of Mycella and Lady Cersei, all gone today, Sansa thought and then she saw Lady Ashara side glancing first at her face and then to her waist. Princess Elia took note of this and did the same.

What could that look mean? She asked herself but at the back of her mind, she knows it.

"It was said on this very gardens by Lady Olenna to Queen Lyanna that the Stark's women are not known for infertility," commented Lady Ashara, her voice almost a whisper, "and I guess the boy Joffrey would not be worried about anything of the sort producing heirs for his house."

Sansa blushed after, excusing herself and making her way to Jeyne Poole.

"Where is Septa Mordane? Let's go back to our chambers," Sansa said, and the two northwomen left the scene with the septa trailing behind them.

It was not only the news that hit the Martell's, Baratheon's and Lannister's hard, as news of Prince Jonothor's survival came, if the letter from Castleblack can be believed, the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms is marching with a hundred thousand wildling savages from beyond the Wall. Jonothor's wife, Lady Margaery is making the situation hard for King Aegon's Small Council as well, as she was able to negotiate men and swords to fight for the rights of her son all the way from Myr and written on the paper from Margaery, she named her son Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, the new Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Queen Lyanna too, have survived her pregnancy against all odds and brought forth a new Targaryen princess, whom they called Princess Shiera.

'She would be the darling of the realm,' she thought happily when she heard the news.

To make matters worst for the alliance of House's Martel, Baratheon and Lannister, they haven't heard any news from Tyene Sand whom they sent in the Crownlands to negotiate with one of the lords much to the confusion of Sansa when her cousin Ser Vorian have mentioned it to her, she thought that why they would send Tyene, a bastard girl, to negotiate with a lord when King Aegon could have sent one of the members of his Small Council. House Serrett of Silverhill have turned their back against House Lannister too, it was a shock to all of them as they thought Lord Tywin already made his stance against unruly and traitorous houses.

"They will pay for this," Sansa heard Lady Cersei, as the news was brought forth during King Aegon's audience on the throne room, the anger evident on her face.

In the riverlands, skirmishes are being won by her brother Robb who is continuously winning against King Aegon's forces with the support of Harrold Arryn, Willas and Garlan Tyrell, among the high ranking men that's continuing the war in favor of King Rhaegar and Prince Jonothor are Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Brynden Blackfish, Ser Edmure Tully, Lord Elbert Arryn, prominent lords and ladies from the riverlands, the vale and the north and finally Ser Myles Mooton.

But the hardest blow came to House Baratheon and Sansa as well when one early morn, she suddenly woke up from her sleep. There was a chill in the air when she left her bed. She made her way to the window, where she can see one of the castle courtyards below.

To her amazement, she saw the banners of House Baratheon entering the castle and she realized Lord Robert and her betrothed Joffrey must have arrived in Kings Landing already.

Unbeknownst to her, the morning news was ill.

Sansa knows that if Joffrey is in the castle, he will be her first visitor in the morning so she changed to a golden gown, a gift from her betrothed with the help of Jeyne.

"Have you heard anything?" she asked her best friend, "he is coming right?"

The past weeks, she's been avoiding the king; on the court, she would often mingle with the other highborn ladies, trying to immerse herself with the chatter and after that, she would go to the godswood with Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole along with her direwolf, Lady, to pray in the morning.

"Nothing," answered Jeyne, "is something amiss?"

"No," Sansa said, as she looks at herself in the mirror and then all of a sudden, there was a knock on the door.

When she opened it, it was Ser Colen of Greenpools.

"My lady, good morn to you," said the knight curtly, "your presence is needed by Joffrey."

"Where is he?" she asked him.

"On his quarters," answered the knight, "I'll guide you my lady."

Sansa and Jeyne walk side by side together, holding each other for support while the knight sworn to House Baratheon led the way on a few flight of stairs and finally after sometime, they reach the apartment of her betrothed.

"They are waiting inside," said the knight.

She suddenly felt scared and when she gave Jeyne a look, Sansa saw that there's also confusion on her eyes.

"Come on," Sansa said as the knight opened the door for them.

Inside the room, Lord Robert is there, sitting on a chair, in front of him on the table is a flagon of wine that his drinking directly from the bottle. He gave Sansa a quick nod before taking a gulp of the wine again. Lady Cersei is sitting on a chair, holding Joffrey's hand that is lying on the bed motionless.

"Joffrey," Sansa muttered and then the eyes of her betrothed opened weakly.

"Sansa," he said, his voice weak but he smiled when he saw her, "Sansa, my dear Sansa."

She made her way towards him with Jeyne trailing behind her.

"My lady, what happened to him?" she asked Lady Cersei.

Lady Cersei gave her a calculating look, as Sansa reach out for Joffrey.

"They were attacked on the kingswood," she answered finally, "a fight ensued and a stray arrow hit Joffrey on his left shoulder."

Sansa opened the covered wound as Joffrey's eyes closed again.

"He will recover right?" she asked.

"The arrow is lace with poison my lady," Lord Robert's voice is gruff, "the maester said that the poison have reached the heart."

"What does it mean my lord," Sansa asked as she felt the weakness of the strong right hand of Joffrey, "they must do something, they must cure him!"

Unwanted tears run down from her cheeks.

"It's too late my lady," said Lord Robert, "we arrived too late."

When Sansa saw the look of her betrothed as he lay dying on the bed, it was the expression of peace, she cried when she felt his hands slipping from hers.

"My son," she heard Lady Cersei cried violently, "my son!"

That night, Sansa made her way towards the godswood. She is wearing a black gown, the color of mourning. Joffrey's body was moved to the Sept, so all morning she was there with Lady Cersei while Lord Robert returned quickly to Storms End to wait for the remains of his son there.

The woods are quiet. Sansa knows the way like the back of her hand and she doesn't feel scared, all these tragedies around her have hardened her heart like a steel.

When she finally arrived at the heart tree, she went directly at its roots to kneel and pray solemnly.

She prayed for the soul of Joffrey and Daeron, for the war to end and for the safety of her brothers and sister, of House Stark and Tully and all the good lords and common folk of the realm. She don't know how long she must have been on her prayers, she just felt someone is there with her.

'Aegon,' she thought when she caught the scent of the stranger.

She finished praying and stood up carefully before facing the young king.

"Your Grace," she said, curtsying for him.

The king did not speak so Sansa steal a glance with him, to see that he is looking intently at her.

"My lady," he said finally, "you lost your betrothed today, my condolences."

Sansa did not speak.

"And Myrcella lost the babe again," he said more to himself and for the first time, Sansa can see the dark lines under the kings eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Sansa apologetically, "she must have heard the news about her brother."

"No," answered the king, "Myrcella is sweet and pretty but she is a weak woman," then he paused, "Queen Lyanna never lost a child, even on her weakest, and my mother too," the next words that came out from his mouth surprised Sansa, "I don't know what to do, my damn council will not let me lead the war myself until I have my own heir and my precious wife is weak," he paused again, his expression lost, "my lady, I'm on a precipice, would you help me?"

The king walk towards her.

"My lady, tell me what you want," said the king, he is standing right in front of her.

What should I say? Asked Sansa and all the warnings from Princess Elia and Lady Ashara came to haunt her, as well as from her own cousin Sir Vorian but on the other side, she remembered the words of Queen Rhaella.

'if you wish our family to win this war, then you know what to do'

Should she say what every noble lady wanted to be; to be a queen and bear the children of the king?

'A queen like my aunt Lyanna,' it was at the tip of her tongue but instead, she said, "my father, I want to see him and my direwolf, I want her to be on my chamber, not in the kennels."

"Is that all?" asked King Aegon, his voice suddenly became hoarse, both of them looking at each other's eyes, now his hands made its way on her cheeks, touching and caressing it gently.

"Tell me what do you want," said Sansa, meeting him eye to eye, "in front of my gods, you cannot lie, tell it to me honestly Your Grace."

"I want you, ever since I saw you," admitted the king, "your skin, your smile, your auburn hair, your blue eyes," he inched his face closer to hers, "your lips," then he paused, now breathless, "what I want is not my duty, I know that and I guess I'm my father's son by making the same mistake and it will probably crash the alliance between my house against the Baratheon's and the Lannister's but I have plans to keep you safe, you and my heir, I'll bring you to Sunspear for the duration of the war where you will be protected by my uncle, the prince of Dorne."

"How about Myrcella?"

"I like her enough but she is a weak woman, Dorne despises weakness, I hate weakness," said the king, "but she is still my wife, so as long as I'm the king, she is my queen but only by title and for that, the bastard Lord Robert and Lord Tywin must stay on the line for her sake."

"And what about Lady Cersei?" asked Sansa, "she will not stand meekly with this dishonor for Myrcella."

"She will," said Aegon.

'This is wrong,' Sansa thought, 'gods forgive me,' but its already too late, she can't pull back now as she leaned towards him, 'for my house,' she said as she kissed him in which the king returned ardently with a smile.

"Tonight in the sights of your gods, we will be one," said the king as he remove his overcoat.

In the distance came the howl of a direwolf, starting a new song of ice and fire.

Notes:

Hello guys. I hope you are all doing good. Please don't forget to comment your thoughts if you liked or disliked this new Sansa chapter. See y'all soon,

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