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Chapter Text

Ned was riding through his lands heading south and feeling how the cold north wind was kissing his skin and making his slightly long hair float in the air. The sky was cloudy while to the north, towards the wall, it was even darker. He wasn't a fool. Ned knew very well that winter was coming and that he will have to be ready to face it.

 Suddenly a mighty roar thundered through the sky, startling the horse, causing it to rear up and Ned to fall to the ground. Luckily it was only a slight shake, but when he got up Ned heard a woman's voice in his head say, 'Don't let them do it. Don't let them do it, Ned. Help her. Help her, Ned. Winter's coming. The dragon needs to be together to face it. Help her. Promise me. Promise me, Ned.’

He recognized the voice. It was his sister's, but he didn't understand why she was telling him these words, considering that Jon was safe and sound. But especially who it was 'her’?

All of a sudden, the ground around him started to burn. In the sky what looked like dragons began to dance. While from the south Ned could see a golden army approaching, but when he turned north Ned saw shadows approaching with the storm preceding them.

Suddenly a figure clad in armour appeared before him, and whose coat of arms Ned recognised. It was the same coat of arms his sister Lyanna had worn at Harrhenal to defeat the three knights and avenge Howland Reed. The Laughing Tree.

When he tried to touch her, Lyanna pulled out a sword and pierced his chest with it, twisting the blade in his flesh, and saying incoherent words.

He woke up panting, all sweaty and not knowing where he was until, glancing to his left, Ned saw his wife Cat sleeping peacefully next to him with her back turned to him. He sighed. It was only a dream, yet it felt so real. He could still feel the blade twisting in his chest, even now.

Looking towards the window, Ned could see the morning lights start to breach through the crack, so he decided to get up and leave the rooms. Since he was awake, he might as well start working.

Once he had dressed and given his wife a kiss, Ned headed for the great hall to grab a bite and start the day. However, on his way, Ned stumbled upon Master Luwin, who said, "Good morning, Lord Stark. A raven has just arrived bearing a strange scroll."

And Ned took it, seeing what look like a raven on it. Unfolding the piece of paper, he started to read.

I know that under your roof you are sheltering the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. I know that he isn't aware of his heritage, and that you have no intention in revealing him that. I know that he wants to spend his life at the Wall, to clean your fake stain. A dragon alone in the world is a terrible things.

But he's not the only dragon left in this world. Not the only member of House Targaryen still alive. There are two more Dragons hiding in Pentos whose lives are in danger. If you wish for forgiveness for what happened to the innocent from King's Landing, for what happened to your sister, and prevent your house from the doom when the Dragons return, I advise you to leave for Pentos at once, and save them from certain death and suffering.

"Who sent this, Master Luwin?" asked Ned, rolling the parchment back, and clenching his fist with the paper.

"I don't know, my lord. It just came without a seal. Not even the raven did I recognize."

 "Speak to no one about it, Maester Luwin," he said and the old man nodded as Ned continued to make his way to the Great Hall while in his mind reappeared the dream that woke him up. His sister's words continued to echo in his mind, and Ned wondered for a moment if she wasn't actually referring to the Targaryens from Pentos as those he needed to save, considering Jon was here with him. But what did the scroll mean by that Jon wanted to join the Watch? He never expressed such a wish before. Or maybe he didn't pay much attention to it.

He will have to have a talk with Jon about his future and understand what he really wants.

Hours later...

Concerting that day was somewhat difficult, since he could not forget what Lya had said, and especially because he had to make a difficult decision about the Targaryens from Pentos. However, on top of all this was the concern about who sent the raven. If anyone besides him and Howland knew of Jon's true parentage, then House Stark and the North were in great danger, especially because they were not ready for a possible war against Robert or the Lannister, who were better equipped and far richer than them. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. "Enter."

And Ned saw that it was Jon, who pecking behind the door, said, "Do you have a moment, Lord Stark?"

"Yes," Ned nodded, putting down the quill. "What is it, son?"

"I wanted to inform you of my decision regarding my future," the boy replied, sitting down on one of the chairs across him, and Ned felt how his heart pounded in his chest, knowing what he wanted to tell him, but he tried to keep the composure, and nod, for his son to continue. "I want to join the Night's Watch."

"Why?"

"Because of what you have endured as a result of my presence here, father. I want to clean the Stark name of this shame. And I want that when my name is mentioned in relation to House Stark, to your name, Father, it is done with honor."

"There are other ways to do that, Jon," Ned said, trying to change his mind. "You don't have to give up so much to bring honor to House Stark."

"I have made my decision father, and I hope that when the time comes, you will allow me to do so," Jon replied, as Ned looked for a moment at this boy who was his nephew, and how much he looked like Lyanna, in every way, but also toe the Last Dragon. Promise me, Ned. Promise me. Those were Lya's words on her death bed when she entrusted her only son to him. To protect that boy. "That's all I wanted to tell you. Now, with your permission, Father, I'm going back to training."

At this point, Ned decided to use something in his favour. The only things he had at hand right now, and taking a breath, he said, before his nephew could leave the room, "It’s a great honour to serve the Watch. The Stark of Winterfell had done it for thousands of years,” despite the shit it becomes.  “Many become Lord Commanders and I’m sure you have the qualities to become such,” and his words seem to have appeased the boy. “However, before you join the Watch, Jon, would you like to hear my offer?"

The boy nodded, sitting back down, and Ned, leaning back, took a breath, saying, "I had the chance to confer with the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch the past months, and reaching a common ground, we agreed that it would be wise to raise new northern lords and place them in the Gift." Stopping Ned took a breath, before placing a parchment that he had just signed in front of the boy.  "This is a deed signed by me in which I appoint you lord of one of the settlements. Many acres of land. A fortress well protected by natural defences, and on top of that, a hundred men from House Stark added to the garrison to begin with as my gift in case you accept, of course."

The boy seemed speechless while, with trembling hands, he was unrolling the parchment and reading the contents, almost not believing it, glancing between the paper and him.

"You do me great honour with this deed father, far more than I can deserve," said the boy, and Ned was seized by guilt for the truth he was continuing to hide from the boy, "but I cannot accept it. Lady Stark-"

"Lady Stark has no say in this, Jon. Your loyalty as a vassal will be to Castle Black, not to Winterfell unless is your choice to come in its help. You will pay taxes to the Watch, and intervene with your men when necessary since the Wildings are continuing to push south, but without their rigid oaths of course."

But the boy was still hesitant, too scared of Catelyn’s reaction, and Ned, getting up, leaned on his fists against the table and gazing down at him, said, "Go with Robb to inspect said settlement and lands. Then on your return, if you still will wish to join the Watch, you will have my blessing and respect."

Jon nodded, getting up, and leaving the room, while Ned sat down, passing his hand over his mouth. Hopefully, he managed to change his mind about the Watch. Now, there were two more Dragons to deal with, before the Lannister or Robert can find.

He had spent the past hours training, first with his brother and Greyjoy, then with the wooden man, wanting to clear his head and make a decision on the regard.  He still could not believe that his father wanted to raise him to Lord, even against the possible contrary wishes of Lady Stark. Yes, it was his dream, to become a Lord, but this exceeds his expectation.

“Watch your side,” Jon heard someone say, and turning, saw that it was his brother. Due to his thoughtful mind, he did not notice Robb's presence, nor did recognise his voice. Panting, Jon stopped fighting, and resting his hands on the sword, tried to regain his normal breath. “What ails you, brother?"

Jon shook his head moving to the table, to quench the thirst and moisten the throat, but seeing that Robb was following him for an answer, he said, “Father has offered me the chance to become the Lord of a castle in the Gift."

"Really? That's great," his brother replied with great enthusiasm.

“But I don’t know if to accept it,” Jon said, sighing, and leaning against the table, feeling as if his head was about to blow. “Father asked me to go and see this stronghold before I decide to join the Night’s Watch, and tomorrow I will leave.”

“I think you should accept the offer, brother,” Robb said, leaning against the table next to him, in silence, and Jon glanced at him, seeing Robb with crossed arms, and pensive expression. “You are heisting because of my mother, don’t you?”

And Jon chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is. But remember Jon, that it’s not my mother the ruler of the Castle, but my father, and after him me. Your loyalty will be to me, not to her. It will be with me that you will meet and one day, when I won't be available with my wife when she is Lady Stark. So, you see, it's not on that basis that you should make your decision."

“Yes. You are right, brother,” Jon replied, sighing, without mentioning that his loyalty will lies to the Wall and getting up, he said, turning to Robb, before leaving, “Will you come with me, brother?”

“Of course, I’m coming, brother,” Robb replied, patting his shoulder. “I'm not letting you go on this adventure alone. After all, who's gonna watch your back should there be ghosts in the castle?"

And Jon laughed, remembering the prank they had played on their siblings many years ago in the crypts, as they started walking towards the Keep.

Ned was very sure of the outcome of Jon's decision that will happen soon, and because of that, he will also be able to carry out that plan to rescue the Targaryens from Pentos and hide them in the North. If as he hoped, Jon becomes lord of that settlement, the Targaryens will be able to live with him in the castle, away from the eyes of Robert or the Lannisters, and thus saving both their lives and the lives of the people of Westeros, who would be wasted in a civil war again. The only thing he will have to figure out was how to bring them here.

Suddenly, as he was finishing to sign some scrolls for the Lords, Ned saw his wife burst in, with an enraged expression, screaming, “How dare you do this to me?! Not only you brought a bastard under my rough sixteen years ago, now you even want to raise him as a Lord!”

“Calm yourself, woman, and tell me what this outburst is about?”

“What is this outburst? Your bastard is bragging around that you want to raise him to a Lord and give him a castle in the Gift,” hissed his wife, glaring at him.

“I did. Jon came to me to tell me of his decision to join the Night's Watch. I offered him another path for honour.

"Offered? And why would you do that, since he is a threat to Robb's future?" she asked, sitting down, but Ned did not answer, and so she continued. "Do you understand that by giving him a castle you are steering him towards power?! Have you perhaps forgotten how House Blackfyre came to be?  Aegon the Unworthy gave him a sword! A sword, Ned!"

“Jon is not Daemon Blackfyre, and Robb is not Daeron II. Jon and Robb are best friends, Cat, and he is ready to die for our son should the situation demand. For all his siblings,” Ned replied, trying to bring his wife to sense. “Only you see hatred, and lust for power where there is none.”

“He will turn against us. When his power grows, he will take arms against us, and steal what is rightfully Robb's. Can’t you see that, Ned? Can’t you see that he is dangerous? Please reconsider this decision and let him join the Night’s Watch alongside your brother,” she begged him.

But Ned, was firm on his decision and decided to change the topic, saying, “I’m going to Pentos in a few days. I will leave you in charge of Winterfell. But not of any lordship decision. That will fall on Robb’s shoulders once he will be back from Jon’s castle.”

“Pentos? Why?”

“Business. Winter is coming, Cat, and there are allies that need to be gathered to withstand it. Maybe I can find a suitable match in the Free Cities for our children that will be favourable for our House without sending them to other castles.”

“I won’t wed my children to foreign whores!”  his wife screamed, shouting to her feet, and leaning against the table. “There are many House from the South worthy of them and with great advantages.”

“I made my decision, Cat. And I’ve already took contact with Magister Illyrio from Pentos. He is rich and has many friends.”

“It’s a mistake Ned,” she said, but he shook his head, and so his wife got up and left.

While he sighed. Her temperament and too much faith in the Seven was one of the reasons of why he never told her the truth about Jon’s identity. If Cat knew about Jon, Ned was sure, that she would tell the winds the moment the situation would favour their children.

A fortnight later...

With a doze of men as an escort, they reached the mountains of the Gift in the west and were approaching the place that was granted him by his father. After two weeks of raiding and sleeping under the dark skies during the cold nights, they finally reached it, and Jon could feel the excitement flow through his whole body.

A very narrow path was leading towards the stronghold, and when it came in sight, Jon halted the horse, to admire it for a moment. The castle was built on a rock, surrounded by mountains and with a stone bridge connecting it to the narrow path. It seemed to be easily defended even with a small force, but only time will say if it was truth.

“It seems to be quiet…impressive,” his brother said, and Jon nodded, hitting the horse with the heels, and urging him forward.

Once they passed the bridge, Jon saw that the gates were open and not in a very good state, something he will have to deal with soon. The courtyard was big, very good for training soldiers. The castle itself seemed pretty big from outside. Or rather tall, and it seems that from the main keep that was like a tall tower, everything from the outside the wall could be spot.

Climbing down from his horse, Jon tied him to a stake and started to move towards the great doors that were leading inside, with hand on the sword, should this place not be empty.

The first thing they visited was the great hall. It was big, on one flat, with columns, and big windows, inside. There was an old table, almost completely eaten by termites, but what attired his attention was the stone throne under the window. Well crafted, and with what seemed to have dragon’s heads on the arms, and on the middle of the seatback, with their tails stretching on the side. 

“Now you have a throne, Snow, from where to rule your little kingdom of bastards,” said Greyjoy, with an arrogant sneer, while Jon ignored him, leaving the great hall.

After that, they wandered through the hallways, exploring every corner, every inch, visiting every room, that were, of course, empty until they returned back to the yard, where all the men were, who, once the time for dinner came, made a toast of course, to the new castle, and the new Lord.

As he was sitting there, to enjoy the moment, Jon heard Theon say, “This is a tough one. Are you sure you can handle it, Snow?"

"Enough, Theon. Go annoy someone else," his brother, stepped in, and Greyjoy scoffed, moving away, and Jon heard Robb say, "He's right though. There's a lot of work to be done here. The castle isn’t in the best condition, and a lot of furniture needs to be bought. It's going to be very tough, Jon."

"I'm not afraid of challenges, Robb. I'm confident that I'll be able to carry out my plans, and make our father proud," Jon replied, and his brother smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Know that you will always have my support, no matter what."

"Thank you. I appreciate it very much," Jon smiled, and at that moment, he saw a group of people enter the yard and the soldiers immediately take up arms, as Jon stood up and approached the new guest, hearing one of them say, "Are you Jon Snow?"

He was of his size, with short dark hair, and a beard. He looked very common, and Jon nodded.

"My name is Tom, and I'm a builder when it needs. I heard you were assigned to this place and wanted to offer you my service, in exchange of food, shelter and protection. We had nothing to offer besides our hands and my knowledge for buildings if you will accept.”

Jon glanced at his brother for a moment, before returning his attention to the man and swallowing, said, “I am grateful for your trust and your service, but I am afraid that I too do not have much to offer. As you can see, the place is not in the best condition.  And I still haven't settled in. The coin I have won’t even be enough to pay for your service.”

“Still better than what we had, my lord. I lost almost everything in a wilding attack a few weeks ago. Since then, me and my family lived in a cave in the woods. We have meat to share if you want to accept,” the man said, and Jon glanced at his brother again, who nodded, and heard the man add. “We will help you put this place up again, my lord. I give you my word. I can even bring more workers if you want. There are many in the Gift who will gladly help you, in exchange of the protection against the wildings or the raiders from the sea.”

And Jon nodded, letting them in, receiving the gratitude of his family, made of four children. Two sons, one young daughter and a new-born one.

Returning to his brother, Jon heard him say, “Well, it seems you already had a great impact on the population of Gift.”

“I think father had a hand in this, but I’m eager to start the work. However, I think you should return back to Winterfell.”

“And miss the fun. I don’t think so,” his brother laughed, taking a piece of meat, and starting to eat, while he chuckled, shaking his head. This was always his dream. Become a lord. Of course, the coveted prize was much bigger, years ago, but he was sure this place will be excellent too.

Pentos…

The sail across the sea towards Pentos, went far more smoothly than he had expected, without impediments, and after a fortnight, he reached the closest city of Essos to them.

The sun was setting when the ship docked, and once down on land, Ned went in search of Illyrio’s manse, with the Jory and four loyal guards behind him. They have been chosen between the most trustworthy ones, but now as he was walking through the streets, Ned felt guilty for not bringing Jon with him.

In the end, after a few moments of wondering, to disguise with the people, they finally reached Illyrio’s manse and knocking at the great doors, Ned saw them open after a few moment.

“Who comes seeking an audience with Magister Illyrio?"

"Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North."

"A moment please," the man said, closing the door, and Ned glanced at Jory, seeing him put his hand on his sword, and shook his head. There was no need for impulsive reactions or making more enemies.

A few moments later, he saw the door open again, and the man who had approached him say, "Magister Illyrio will receive you."

They were led through the hallways, towards a terrace, with a view on the garden, and where there was a rich table full of food, at which a man was sitting. He was stout, with dark brown hairs, a forked beard, and dressed according to his status.

“Ah…Lord Stark…Welcome, welcome, to my humble manse,” the man greeted him, with a smile, getting up.

“Thank you for granting me audience, Magister Illyrio, especially at such a late hour of the day,” Ned replied, and the man nodded, “Of course, of course. How could I refuse to such a noble and honourable man like you? Please. Sit, sit. There is plenty of food for everyone.”

He did as asked, nodding to his men too, even though there was that fear that the magister may poison them because of the Targaryen in this, but he heard the man say, “Breed and salt as for your costume to symbolize my protection.”

As they were eating, Ned heard the man ask, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this fine visit from you, good Lord?"

"Winter is coming, Magister Illyrio, and I am in search of an alliance," replied Ned, taking a sip of the good wine. "It has come to my attention that when it comes to those kinds of pursuits, you are the most suitable one to turn to."

"Indeed I am. I have a great nest of knowledge that could be very useful to you, at the right price of course."

"Of course."

"But if I may ask, is seeking alliances the only reason you are here, my good lord?"

"And what other reason," Ned replied, lying, and trying to conceal the real reason as much as possible.

"Well, for example, perhaps word has reached you that I am hiding Targaryen under my roof."

"And is that true?"

"Of course not, my good lord," laughed the Magister, roaring, but before he could say anything, Ned heard a man ask, "What is going on here?"

And turning, he saw a boy, in his early twenties, standing there. Sword at his side and sporting proudly the emblem of House Targaryen. He bore a striking resemblance to his brother Rhaegar, but not as tall as the Last Dragon, and neither the eyes were of the same could. He was Prince Viserys for sure.

“What is this dog doing here?” said Viserys, but the magister did not reply, and Ned saw the prince pull out his sword, charging at him, only to be knocked and disarmed by Jory.

“My lord. Please. I cannot accept that blood is spilled under my roof. You are under the guest rights, but so is the prince,” the magister said, and Ned nodded to Jory, who let the prince go, but not gave him back the sword.

In that moment his attention was drawn by someone else who joined them. It was a young girl, of Jon’s age maybe, with Valyrian features and that resembled so much like the late queen Rhaella and the Last Dragon. He immediately got up, to greet the girl, and heard the Magister say, “Oh, come, my dear, don’t be afraid of Lord Stark.” Turning to him, Illyrio said. “May I introduce to you, Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen, daughter of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella.”

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Ned replied, bowing, and heard the prince, scream, “Do not dare to address my sister filthy dog!”

“If the guest rights are still up, I would like to retire for the night, Magister.”

“Of course, of course,” he beaconed for someone to come. “Accompany Lord stark and his men to the free rooms for the night.” And the servant bowed, while, Illyrio added, “I hope that in the marrow, we will have the chance to discuss about the possible alliance.”

Ned nodded, bowing to the girl, who never took her eyes away from him, and who did not seem to look at him in the same way as the boy did, before leaving with his men, and Ned heard Jory say, “Wouldn’t it be more wise to spend the night in an in rather than her, Lord Stark.”

“We are under the protection of the guest's right, Jory. Nothing will happen,” Ned replied, and the man nodded.

“I will not stand for this!” Dany heard her brother bark, crashing jugs after jugs against the wall, and wasting good wine, and she could see that pained expression of the rich master at the waste. “To allow one of the Usurper’s dogs into the same manse as me, his rightful king!” Yet another enraged yell left his throat, this time no longer throwing a jug, but worse. He pulled down all the food from the table in rage.

“Calm down, your Grace,” the magister tried to calm her brother, not only because of the overacting he was making but because of the wastes he was procuring to his furniture. “His arrival here is but a coincidence, due to the coming of winter.”

 “Do you think I can give two shits about the reason, Illyrio?!” screamed Viserys in his face. “He is the man who helped the Usurper put his damn ass on my throne! Who killed my brother and dear father!” 

Her ears were starting to hurt because of his yells, and wanting to help the magister in this, she said “Viserys. He does not seem to be an evil man. Maybe-” but she was stopped by a hard slap across her face, making Dany yelp, and fall to the floor, before Viserys’ hand wrapped around her throat, starting to strangle her, and press Dany to cold ground.

“Did I say you could talk, sweet sister?” He hissed, with only a few inches from her face, tightening the squeeze, and Dany was starting to struggle at breathing. “Do not wake the dragon!” he screamed in her face, before pushing her against the floor once more, making her hit the head, before getting up, and Dany started to cough, and take deep breaths.

“Do not worry, your Grace. Lord Stark may be on the side of King Robert…”

“Robert the Usurper! I am the King, do you understand!” cut him Viserys, roaring like a mad dragon.

“Of course, of course. Forgive me, my king. But you don’t have to worry about his presence because in the morrow he will be gone,” reassured him the magister, and Dany with the corner of her eyes saw her brother start to calm down, and fixing his clothes, and the messy hairs on his head, he said, taking deep breaths, “If that is the case, I will tolerate his presence, for this night. But if he will still be here in the marrow, I will have your head, and his, Magister.”

Once her brother disappeared, the Magister, helping her up said, “Come child. He is no longer here.” And she immediately cleaned the tears that were daring to get down. “When you will be married to the Dothraki Khal, and his grace will have his army, all this will come to an end.”

But Dany did not reply, leaving the terrace to return back to her room, and thing to herself, ‘Of course it will come to an end. Everyone will get what they want. Her brother the throne. The magister his part of the deal, while she will be forced to spend her life next to a man who was twice her age, who she didn’t want, and especially despised the behaviour, despite the status he holds.’

Once back, she laid on the bed, curling in a ball, and letting her tears fall freely. A dragon does not cry, she always told herself this when he abused and mistreated her, but they still come despite her being a dragon.

However, this night, Dany only hoped that her Shadow Lover will come to pay her a visit and relieve her of this pain.

Chapter Text

After the meeting with the Magister in the morning, concerning the possible choices of the alliance, and his reward if those alliances will take place, Ned decided to retire to the garden and enjoy the sun, as well as the breeze blowing from the bay, despite the heat being too much for him down here, unlikely in the north.

Now that he had met the Targaryens, Ned needed to think of how better approach them and make them follow him back in the north, even though he was sure that it will be a thoughtful task, especially since the boy voiced his thoughts about him, but at the same time without revealing too much, because this place wasn’t safe for delicate news as his nephew’s identity.

Suddenly, as he was looking down, thinking, with elbows resting on his knees, Ned felt a shadow hover over him, and looking up, he saw the Princess standing before him, in an ivory light dress, that was showing too much for his taste, and with dragon pins at her shoulder. Her hands clapped before her belly, and her hairs combed, pulled behind, but left freely.

However, his sight was caught by the bruise on her neck, on her lips, and on her cheek, and Ned realised that her brother was abusing her. Same fate as her late mother it seems. Such young girl, but already bearing the signs of a monster.

He felt such a rage inside him in that moment towards Viserys, because no brother should do this to his sister, and he was sure that the Last Dragon wouldn’t have allowed such behavior from his younger brother. As he wouldn’t have allowed if one of his kin would have done this to Lya. But sadly, there were too many brothers like Viserys Targaryen in this world rather than those like Jon or Robb, who would die for their sisters before harm gets them.

Getting up, Ned greeted the princess, with a bow, “My lady.”

“Why are you here, Lord Stark?” she asked, bluntly, looking up at him, with a judgemental expression.

“To meet Magister Illyrio, my lady,” he replied, laying of course, and sitting down again. “Winter is coming and the North need allies.”

“I don’t believe that is the only reason,” she said, unfazed by the possibility he may be here to hurt her. “Are you here to deliver us to the Usurper, my Lord?”

“No. King Robert does not know about me being here, my lady,” Ned replied, taking a deep breath, to keep his racing heart at bay. He really hoped that word will never reach his friend’s ear otherwise House Stark will be doomed.

The girl, on the other hand, kept looking at him with suspiciousness, and Ned was starting to loosen, because her amethyst eyes were perching through the wall that he had raised, and sighing, he said, in a low voice, “Yes, my lady. That’s not the only reason. Or should I say it is not the reason. I’m here for you, but not for the reason you think.”

“Then for what reason, if I may ask?” asked the princes, tilting her chin, and looking away, for a moment, before returning her gaze to him with expectation, and Ned nodded to the free spot next to him.

Viserys was standing on the terrace of Illyrio’s manse, fuming in rage, as the wolf was trying to fool his sweet sister undoubtedly wanting to give her the same fate as Rhaegar gave to that northern whore. To sneak between her legs. That fool of his little sister who seem to not understand what her place was and where her loyalty should lay. But he will make sure that she remembers. That he is the king, and she woke the dragon.

Turning on his heels, with clenched fist, he marched into Illyrio’s solar, slamming the door behind, and sitting on the chair before him, crossing his arms, Viserys said, “Tell me his names. Tell me the names that you promised Stark.”

“There are no names, yet, my king,” the Magister replied, and Viserys scoffed, but before the conversation could go further, they got interrupted, by a servant, who bowing, said, “He is here Magister.”

And Illyrio nodded, getting up, “Ah, my good friend. Come, come. May I introduce you, my king, Ser Jorah of House Mormont.”

Mormont bowed, and Viserys give him a look. Tall, brood, and with dirty blonde hair. The man indeed looked like a Northman, but Viserys did not like all these usurper’s dogs roaming around him, and with contempt and disapproval, said, “Another northern? Isn’t a filthy dog enough for this antic, Illyrio? Now you bring me a disgraceful bear?”

And, the knight looked at Illyrio confused, who retorted, “Apologise, my king, but Ser Jorah is nothing like Lord Stark.”

“Eddard Stark is here?” asked the bear knight looking at Illyrio.

“Yes. But you don’t have to fear, Ser Jorah. He doesn’t know about your arrival,” Illyrio reassured the Northern knight, while Viserys started to see an ally in him, and so, taking a step closer, Viserys asked, “You want to enter my service, Mormont?”

And the bear nodded, bending the knee, reciting an oath of fealty, while Viserys looked at Illyrio, grinning. Two birds with one stone. He can use Mormont’s hatred towards Stark to deprive the usurper of one of his most loyal dogs.

“Thank you, Mormont. I will need your services very soon,” Viserys said, placing a hand on his shoulder before leaving. Now only his sister was left to put in place.

She spent the past hours in the garden under the trees thinking about what Lord Stark told her. She had a lost kin in the North that she wasn’t aware of and the prospect of moving there, escaping this…marriage to the warlord, was giving her hope.

However, without realising, it was already the hour of the owl, and so she immediately got up from under the three, rushing to get back to her room before her brother noticed her absence.

On her way, however, Dany stopped when she heard voices coming from Illyrio’s rooms, and so she approached the door to overhear what he was saying, despite knowing very well it was not proper to listen behind doors.

Leaning her ear on the cold wood, Dany hear a man say, “This wasn’t what we’ve planned, my friend.”

“I know, but I couldn’t refuse one of King Robert’s closest friends. If our plan needs to succeed the wolf does not need to have suspicions about my intentions regarding the Targaryen but rather the fact that I’m only harbouring Viserys as a host,” the Magister reassured.

“Good. King Robert is weak, fat and brought the Seven Kingdoms to their ruin. There are many who are starting to plot against him in the shadows and praying for a new ruler to come. Jon Arryn is struggling to keep the king’s peace and Robert Baratheon has no legitimate heir as the Queen’s children were fathered by Jaime Lannister, and the firstborn is just like Aerys. A mad boy.”

“Then fate is on our side, my friend. Once the Princess is married to the Khal, and her out of the way, the boy will have his path clear for the throne because when Viserys will be taken down after the war, no one will ever want a Princess with a savage bastard as an heir on the throne.”

“Yes, my old friend. The Black dragon shall rise again and rule the Seven Kingdoms as is was destined to be.”

Those words were enough for her, to run away. She needs to warn Viserys about this. About the Magister’s plan. If he finds out about Illyrio’s plans, maybe he won’t marry her to that man she didn’t want. And maybe, he will accept Lord Stark's help.

However, when she got to his room, Dany found only Dorhea inside, who seem to be sleeping, naked. She sighed, closing the door, and went back to her room, only to find her brother waiting for her, sitting on a chair, with crossed legs and arms, and with a very angry expression. She woke the dragon, and she knew what the consequences were.

“Viserys-“

“Quiet,” he cut her, getting up and approaching her, with hands behind his back. “Do you think I’m a fool, sweet sister?” he asked in a very dangerous, stopping before her, looking down while caressing her chin.

“No...I’m sorry, Viserys. I lost track of time. I was-“ but he did not let her finish, slapping her cheek so hard, that made Dany fall to the floor.

“Don’t lie to me, little whore!” screamed Viserys hovering above her, before climbing on her, and pressing her head to the cold and hard floor, screamed. “You dare to betray me! To side with wolves! You woke the dragon!” she felt her tears come down and quickly squeezed her eyes shoot, not wanting for him to see her so weak, but her body was shaking on its own because of the silent cry. “You woke the dragon!” he keeps screaming.

Suddenly the weight above her was no longer, and her head no longer pressed to the floor, while through her tearful eyes, she saw that it was lord Stark who pushed him away and heard her brother scream, “HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME, YOU FILTHY DOG! I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD, YOU DAMN TRAITOR!”

“Jory. Stay with the princess and help her gather her belongings. We are leaving in an hour,” Lord Stark said, while the soldier helped her up from the ground. 

“Come princess.”

Viserys on the other hand was dragged out of her room by Illyrio’s men, and lord Stark left too. But she knew she need to go after her brother and ask his forgiveness for friending with the enemy because he was her family and you never turn the back to family, especially since he had protected her provided for her all her life till now.

“Our partnership cannot continue, Magister. What I witnessed this night made me desist. Especially if all your partners are like the prince,” Eddard said, from his seat looking at the stud man, who had a shocked expression.

"Apologise for the king's...I mean Prince Viserys' behaviour," retorted the man. "It never happened before, but your arrival in Pentos has rather alarmed him, not to mention your frequent contacts with her Grace, the Princess."

“She is also the reason why I am here, Magister. I want to take her back to the North and spare her the same fate as her House.”

"That is not for you to decide, Lord Stark," the wealthy merchant replied, intertwining his hands on his large belly, and smiling under his mustache, making them curl under his nose. "Prince Viserys has great plans for her, and as the only daughter of House Targaryen, she must do her duty and help the head of the House to reclaim what is rightfully his."

Whereupon Ned rose, and leaning against the table on his fist, said, looking down at him, "Not if I have something to say on it. May I remind you who I am?"

 “You are far from home, my lord, and before help could even come, your throat would be slit,” the Magister replied, chuckling, before adding something in a foreign tongue, and soon enough, Ned heard the door open and the famous Unsullied enter in.

Straightening and turning to the wealthy merchant, asking, “Am I your prisoner, Magister?"

“No. My guest. A special guest,” the Magister repelled, before talking again in the strange tongue, and Ned was grabbed by the elbows and led away, back to his rooms, it seems.

However, his men were waiting there, pulling out the swords, and Jory said, “Leave our lord, men, and you will live.”

The unsullied immediately let him go but pointed their spears, and so Ned, not wanting bloodshed, said to his men, “Put your swords back, men. I won’t accept bloodshed. That’s not the reason why we are here.”

The men obeyed, and the Unsullied lowered the spears too, saying something in High Valyria, and pointing to his rooms.

“Inside men.”

“But my lord. We cannot accept the imprisonment.”

“Execute the orders, men,” he insisted, nodding to the room, and they all got inside, hearing it lock. Ned didn’t want blood to be shed. Not of his men, and neither of the enemy.

Viserys was patching back and forth inside Illyrio’s solar, fuming with rage, as he was trying to convince the fat Magister to kill Stark. He still couldn't believe that this filthy dog dared to lay his hands on him. On his rightful king. That filthy yokel.

“I want his head, Illyrio. No one strikes the king and stays unpunished!”

“My King, what happened in the room with the Princess, happened because of Lord Stark's code of honour. After all, everyone knows Eddard Stark's reputation when it comes to the weak and the innocent."

"My sister was neither weak nor innocent, Illyrio!" Viserys snapped, scratching his chin, and looking towards the Magister. "She dared to befriend a dog whose master killed my brother and stole my crown. I won't let her shift allegiance!"

"Of course, but remember, my king, that to the Dothraki, a damaged good is not worth. If the princess bears bruises, the Kahl might decide to remake the deal or even break it."

"I don't care about the savages, Illyrio, I only wanted to show my sister her place," Viserys replied, leaning against the table, and gazing at the man, before walking away from it and towards the balcony. But despite his words, Illyrio was right, and Viserys needed all the Khalassar to defeat the usurper and take back the throne. "I will no longer harm my sister, Illyrio, but only if Stark stays away from her."

"He will leave this manse this very night, your grace," Illyrio replied, but Viserys had other plans in that regard, and left the solar to go in the search of Mormont.

She spent the past hours curled in a ball on her bed in her chambers, resigned to her fate. Viserys hated her because she talked with Lord Stark, despite she reassured him that nothing happened and that Lord Stark only wanted to inform her about their lost kin, Maester Aemon, who was at the Wall, and even told him about Lord Stark’s offer for them. A way back home, and live their lives in peace and away from the Usurper’s sight

But he would not listen to reason, calling her a weak, and a fool for believing a traitor’s promises, and that he will deliver them to the Usurper the moment they set foot in Westeros. And so, she shut herself in and accepted her fate, spending the rest of the night in her room, because there was no way out from this unwanted marriage.

Because of this, sleep did not take her, and consequently, she could not dream of her shadow lover, who seemed to be the only thing that gave her joy and pleasure in this year, and whom, Dany hoped to find one day or maybe he will come to save her from the Khal, even though, from what she knows about him, about his cold member piercing her hot and wet folds, was far away.

Suddenly, as she was laying on the bed, Dany heard an echoing voice, chant, ‘Bride of fire, Daughter of death, Child of three, come to us exiled princess and wake the dragons from the ancient sleep.’

She immediately jumped up, looking around in the room, but there was no one. Getting down from the bed, she moved to the balcony, to see if there was someone there, but still nothing. Dany was starting to fear that she had inherited the Targaryen Madness as it seem only to be in her head.

‘Bride of fire, Daughter of death, Child of three, come to us exiled princes and wake the dragons from the ancient sleep,’ she heard again, as she moved back inside, but this time, the little chant continued to resound, and she followed it, as the voice was getting loud and louder.

Until it stopped, and Dany found herself at Illyrio’s door. She looked right and left, finding it strange that there was no man at his door, and so she dared to do something she shouldn’t do without Viserys’ presence, or without being summoned. She knocked at it, receiving no word from the inside.

But in that moment, screams and shouts and clashing of steels echoed through the hallways, and she immediately got inside Illyrio’s room, closing the door behind, locking it with shaking hand, and leaning against the wood, closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself, because she knew what was happening.

Taking deep breaths, Dany opened her eyes again, seeing that the room was empty but full of expensive goods. From the curtains of fine silk to the covers embroidered with gold and silver on the bed. From the royally carved wardrobes to the gold candelabras, that were still not lit.

However, her gaze was caught by something that did not fit at all to the room of a wealthy merchant like Illyrio, and it was a simple chest. Carved yes, but not what she would expect in his room. She would have imagined a golden one there instead of a wooden one.

Approaching it, Dany bend down before the chest and opening it, her eyes were greeted by three beautiful eggs of different colours. She felt drawn by them and heard the words echoing in her head again.

Could these really be dragon eggs? Could these be the dragon eggs that Elissa Farman stole from Dragonstone? If it was so, then they belonged to House Targaryen. They were their heritage.

Taking a deep breath, Dany picked up the black and red egg, immediately feeling a tremor. As if a bond was made in that moment.

That moment was broken by voice at the door, and the moving of the handle, making her straddle, and drop the egg, before getting up quickly, and run to the wardrobe to hide. She left but a crack to let some air in, as Dany could hear hits at the door.

It did not take long and they burst in, and Dany heard one of them say, “This must be the Magister’s rooms. Let’s make the full and find the Targaryens.”

As the men rummaged through the room, collecting what was precious, Dany felt how her heart was pounding in her chest, and how her breathing was so ragged that she feared they would sense and discover her.

After a few moments, she heard another one say, “Should we look in the wardrobe too?”

“Nah. Only clothes we will find there. Precious silk, yes, but only clothes. I don’t want to carry them on,” the other one retorted. “What I want is to burn this damn fat merchant’s manse to the ground and collect the reward from the King.”

“What the hell are you doing here,” came someone from the door, and she tried to take a look, but not much could be seen. “It’s time to leave.”

“Have you found the girl?” one from the inside asked

“No. But we got the boy,” the man replied, and she hopped that they won’t start to search for her. “Now let’s leave.”

Suddenly, she felt smoke and knew that the man started to burn the room. Panic gripped her in that instant, not knowing what to do, and afraid of the flames that were devouring the room, she pushed the door of the wardrobe open, sprinting to the door of the room, but only to be grabbed the moment her foot stepped on the other side, and be slammed against the wall by someone, gasping in pain.

A hand wrapped around her throat, pining her to it, and Dany heard a man laughing, saying, “So you're the little Targaryen whore sold to a Khal, in exchange for an army? What a waste. Such delicacy would be wasted on a savage."  Dany felt his blade pressed against her cheek, and his body against hers as she tried to free himself but in vain. He was far too strong for her. "I've never fucked a royal whore before, but I'm sure you won't be disappointed by my big cock."

And Dany felt her dress being pulled up, but before anything could happen, she heard the man curse and his weight gone, causing her to fall to the floor, coughing, and gasping for air, but there were none. All around her was smoke and it made difficult to breathe. However, when she opened her eyes and looked towards the man, Dany saw him kill Viserys, who seem came to save her, as he was still gripping the sword Illyrio gifted him, while the three eggs were on the ground.

With shaking hands, Dany grabbed the knife that was on the floor, near her, and stabbed the man into the thigh, before could attack her again. Then grabbing the three eggs, she run away, disappearing into the smoke, hopping that no one will follow her.

They were sitting at one of the tables of the inn having some cups of wine ad ale, or to be more precise his men, while he thought on what to do now. Viserys Targaryen won’t follow him back to the North, despite the prospect of a long, and happy life next to his last kin, and away from Robert’s wrath, while the girl, Daenerys. She would have gladly accepted, but only if her brother came too. But since he won’t, Ned was sure she won’t come either and would be forced to marry the Dothraki Warlord.

Suddenly Ned heard a voice say, “Eddard Stark. You are far from home.” It was belonging to a man that he did not see in a long time, and the moment he leaned against the table to gaze at him, Jory shoot to his feet, pulling out his dagger.

“Mormont! You filthy traitor. How dare you show yourself before Lord Stark?”

“We aren’t in the North, Cassell, and your Lord is far from home,” Mormont retorted, but never took his gaze away from him. Ned could see the grudge towards him in the man’s eyes, but that did not mean he cared about Mormont’s opinion about him.

“Jory,” he nodded to his man to pull back the dagger, before returning his attention to the traitor. “You are right, Mormont. We are not in the North. You are a free man here, but this does not change the fact that you broke the law and shamed your House name. Every member of your House hates you and wants your head.”

Mormont was about to retort, but a man burst into the inn screaming, something in the foreign tongue, and everyone shouted to their feet, rushing out of the place, in a hurry, and Jorah Mormont was about to follow them too, but Ned stopped him, grabbing his arm, “What did he say?”

“That the city is burning,” the man retorted, shrugging his hand away, and running out of the inn.

Ned nodded, leaving the inn, but when he was outside, he could not believe his eyes. It wasn’t the city that was burning, but Illyrio’s manse, and he immediately run in that direction, hopping for the Targaryen to be alive.

In the North…

Thanks to Tom’s knowledge, he managed to put this place up again, more or less, as it should be and sealing the cracks that were making it weak to the enemies and not only. Of course, it wasn’t ready to be fully dwelled, but the basis was there. 

Robb left, and now he was alone here or almost, but if he can be honest, it was much better here than back in Winterfell, where he would have been forced to suffer Lady Stark’s hatred, glare and only the Old Gods know what else now that he was raised to Lord by his father. Yes, it wasn’t as comfortable as Winterfell, but still, it was warm for some strange reason.

As he was sitting on the stone throne, and thinking about what he would do next, Jon heard himself being called and looking towards where the voice came from, saw that it was Tom. “What is it?”

“You need to come and see something, my lord,” the man beckoned to follow him, and Jon, sighing, got up, following the man to the lower levels way lower than the dungeons, and where he did not venture before because did not have the time.

The more they went deeper below the underground, the more Jon could feel the heat increase, and the walls wet. He couldn’t understand why, even though he may have a clue of what was waiting for them there.

They reached a great stone, that seem to be half-opened, and as they passed it, Jon could see on the other side a great cave, that seem to host what looked like a hotspring similar to Winterfell, while all around, some dark shining stones.

Approaching them, Jon touched the smooth wall, before asking glancing towards him, “Do you know what those are?”

“No. Never seen before in the Gift, my lord. But I’m sure are very valuable,” Tom replied, crossing his arm. “You can make fine-shaped jewelry of them.”

“Yes. It will help us to hire men and buy more resources to make this place more suitable to dwell,” Jon replied, glancing to the man, before returning his gaze to the stones. “No one needs to know about this until I find a buyer for them.”

“Will you leave for White Harbour, my lord?”

“Not yet. First, there are things that I need to take care here, and pay a visit to the Watch,” Jon replied as they left the cave, but stopping, he said, “I want this place to have an Iron gate with a seal, and only I will have the kay. We need to explore the cave and see what else it harbours, but above all, if there is an opening that may lead the enemy inside.”

“As you command, my lord. I will start at once,” the man replied, bowing, and Jon nodded in gratitude, as he continued to head back to the great hall, but on his way, he stumbled upon Tom’s daughter, who bowing, said, “You have visitors, my lord.”

“Who?” asked Jon, but the girl shook her head, and so he continued to head there. Once he reached the great Hall, Jon found the soldiers at the door, that were open and a man in black waiting for him inside, with his back turned, but by the shape and the colour of his hair, Jon knew who the man was. “I see that you found this place even without a map.”

“Hard to not do it when the winds chant about the newly raised lord, son of the wolves.”

“Uncle Benjen,” laughed Jon, greeting the man, rushing towards him and hugging him.

“Jon. You grown a lot since I last time saw you,” his uncle said, laughing, breaking the hug. “And now you a lord.”

“Aye. Was a surprise to me too. Especially since I wanted to join the Watch,” Jon replied, moving towards the newly crafted table, by one of Tom’s sons.

“It’s better this way, Jon. Your life at the Wall would have been wasted, despite the Wall would need men like you.”

At hearing this, Jon said, looking down, “Uncle. If you want me at the wall with you and think the watch will need men like me then I will come. I will refuse father’s offer and come with you.”

“No, Jon. That is not what I meant,” his uncle immediately said, becoming all serious. “The Wall is a hard place for a boy, Jon.”

“I’m no longer boy. I turn seventeen on my next name day. And Maester Luwin has always said that bastards grow up faster.”

“That’s true enough,” his uncle replied, leaning back. “But joining the Watch means giving up on many important things. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons.”

“You know I never cared much about that, uncle,” Jon chuckled, though the truth was far from that. He dreamed sometimes of holding in his arms a son of his own. To name him Robb, in honor of his brother. To teach him how to wield a sword, how to ride and how to hunt. But the fear of being a disappointment to him was far greater than that desire.

“You might if you knew what it meant,” chuckled his uncle, getting up and patting his shoulder.

“What lady would want to marry a bastard.”

“What lady wouldn’t want to marry a young honourable and kind lord like you?” asked his uncle, with a laugh. “And Handsome.” And they both laughed at the statement. However, Jon knew he had not the same luck with girls as Robb had.

“So, do you want to show me this place or do I need to explore it on my own?” his uncle asked, with eagerness, getting up, and Jon chuckled, getting up too, and heading for the door, however stopping saying, “Uncle. Could you intercede for me with the Lord Commander regarding certain plans I have in regard of the western shores?"

"Of course," he said, and Jon smiled as they left the hall.

Chapter Text

The fire seemed uncontrollable, as the crowd gathered before the manse, trying to extinguish it, while Ned was looking for a way to get in, and try to save the Targaryens if they were inside, or at least the girl because she was innocent, but in vain. There was no way in. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for the flames to extinguish.

When the morning lights came, the fire was gone, and the crowd that came to extinguish it and help the city watch, cleared, but not before they were enquired by the guards and the Prince of Pentos on what happened.

Ned on the other hand, with the permission of the Prince, went inside, to see if the girl managed to hide somewhere from the flames even though he doubted it.

The inside was completely destroyed by the flames. The walls, once decorated with precious tapestry and paintings, were now burnt, and the smell of smoke and the stench of burnt bodies could be smelled continuously.

"It is not wise to venture inside, my lord. We should leave Pentos as soon as possible before those who attacked the manse finds us too."

"I want to make sure that the reason for why we came here is truly lost, Jory, otherwise all this would have been a waste of time,” Ned replied, stopping, however when he saw the Targaryen boy laying on the ground under the rumbles, half-burn, and without hairs. Bending, he examined the body, while covering his nose.

“It seems he is dead, my lord.”

“Yes,” Ned agreed, getting up, and continuing to search the girl’s body, but in the hallways, she wasn’t.

“Who do you think these were? Sellsword, or thieves?”

“Maybe both,” Ned replied, as they reached the girl’s rooms. This was undoubtedly the Lannister’s work, wanting to finish what they started sixteen years ago, sadly. He will have to be more carefully from now on otherwise this same fate will await his nephew too.

When he reached the searched room, Ned saw it destroyed too, like the others, and no one was inside. Not even a burned body. Maybe they took her to deliver the girl to Robert in exchange for a good reward.

“Let’s leave, Jory,” Ned said, starting to make his way back from where he came, but stopping when he heard a sharp sibylline roar coming from behind, and turning to Jorah, he said, “Did you hear?”

“It’s coming from the inside,” the Capitan said, pulling out his sword, and starting to move. The more he was approaching the rare small roar, that was becoming louder and louder until they reached the room that was holding the round big stone bathtub of the manse. It was destroyed too, like all the rooms and hallways of this manse, however, not completely. There were still corners where someone could hide, and one of them was the stone bathtub that seem to have some wooden burned planks above, but he could also see a dead body hanging on the edge.

The roaring keep coming from that place, but when he tried to approach it, Ned was stopped by Jory, who said, “What if there is a dangerous creature lurking under the rubbles?”

Ned ignored him, and with hand on the sword, started to approach the round tube, followed right behind by two of his men, while Jory moved to the right side, and another one of his men on the opposite.

Once before it, Ned took a deep breath, and looking towards Jory, nodded, as they took the planks off. When they did so, Ned could not believe his eyes at what he was seeing and even thought that they were deceiving him. How could they not? There were dragons inside that empty bathtub, sitting above the girl. Small dragons of different colours.

Daenerys Targaryen was curled in a ball, naked, her hairs a mess, and was completely covered with ashes. He wanted to bend and cover her with his cap, but he feared the dragons, despite their size, because their story was well known in Westeros, especially after what happened to Laena Velaryon, according to the books.

“Jory, go find something to tie them, and if there are any sacks that could carry them and hide in the eyes of the world, bring them here.” His captain nodded, running away, while Ned, pulling away the sword, tried to enter in the tub, and with raised hands said, “I don’t want to hurt her. I want only to help her.”

The dragons were looking at him with curiosity, while Ned doubted, they even understand him, because they were nothing else but beasts. Ned knew that one wrong step and he will be turned to ashes in the blink of an eye by these little creatures.

While the dragons keep looking at him, the same way, undoubtedly trying to figure out if he was a threat or no, Ned took a quick glance at the girl, seeing that she was wounded too, or lightly scratched and he will have to find a healer as soon as possible if she was still alive.

“Lord Stark. I found the rope and two sacks. They aren’t in the best condition, but I think will serve well,” Jory said, and Ned nodded, only to see him followed by a girl with dark messy hairs, who stopped shocked because of what she was seeing.

Ned took the ropes and nodded to his men to grab the dragons, who, despite a first hesitation, did as commanded. The dragons started to scream, and whine immediately, flapping their little wings, as his men were trying to hold them down, and Ned with Jory’s help, tried to tie them. It was difficult, but in the end, they managed to immobilize them, and put them in the sacks.

They were squirming, and whining and making mumbling roaring, but it was a useless effort as they were to small to oppose. Then getting up, he went back inside the tub, bending, and covering the girl with his cape.

“Princess. Wake up,” he called her, shaking her body, but still nothing. Her breath was light, and as if it was going, so Ned knew he need to act at once, and picking the small body of the girl in hands, got out of the tub. “Jory. Go in search of a healer and then meet me at the inn.”

His Capitan nodded, rushing away, while Ned, made his way out of the manse. In that moment, outside, he was quickly approached by the Prince of Pentos, who asked, “Is that the Targaryen Princess? Is she still alive?”

“No. It’s a girl that I found inside, and who is dying,” Ned replied. “I meet her last night in the Magister’s manse and fell for her. Now I don’t to lose her, so if you will excuse me, I need to go back at the inn,” starting to move in the direction of the inn where he has been the past hours, and barrow a room. “Make sure to not lose the sack, men. I don’t need to tell you their value.”

A few hours later….

The healer took care of her. The young Targaryen was lightly wounded on the thigh and on her arm but got too much smoke inside her. He said that if she passes the night, she will live, while Ned sat next to her bed since then. She was still covered with dust, beside the spot of the wounds, that had been cleaned by the healer, while he provided for the covers for her.

Jory borrowed some clothes from a brothel, and the girl, Dorhea was her name, put them on the princess, after the healer finished with her and cleaned the princess of the ashes, but Ned did not trust much this Dorhea. Especially since she saw the dragons. Jory told him her story, and the reason of why she was at Illyrio’s manse, which was to keep Viserys busy and away from the Princess till she will be delivered to the Khal. That oaf ambitious merchant. But she survived by running out of the manes to the garden and hiding in the pool. He found her there when searching for sacks and ropes

Suddenly a knock came at the door, straddling him, and Ned pulled out his dagger, only to hear from the other side, Jory’s voice says, “It’s me, my lord.”

Lowering his weapon, Ned approached the door, opening it, “What is it, Jory.”

“Mormont is here. He wants to see you, my lord,” Jory said, and Ned nodded, giving one last glance to the Princess, before saying to his Capitan, “Stay with her till my return. If she gets worse, call me.”

The man nodded, getting inside, and locking the door, while Ned headed down to the hall where the tables were, and once down, he saw Mormont sitting at one of the tables, with a cup of ale or wine. Approaching Ned, said, crossing his arms, “You wanted to see me Mormont?”

“Is she alive? Did you manage to save her?”

“Why do you care for her wellbeing, Mormont?”

“The spider asked me to spy on them in exchange of a royal pardon and a return home,” Jorah Mormont said, taking a sip and pulling out a scroll, “Here you will find his instructions.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ned asked, ignoring the paper because he doesn’t care about a piece of scroll signed by the king for a traitor only because he promised to kill his enemies.

“Because I want to return back home. What I did was wrong, and I know, but you also did not let me explain.”

“Explain?” chuckled, Ned, crossing his arms. “There was nothing to explain, Mormont,” Ned continued, leaning on his fist against the table, and gazing down at the bear. “You sold men, despite knowing that slavery is a crime in Westeros, and banished from there. You knew very well the reason of why you were banished. And I would say it was a mercy from my side, considering that you deserved to die.”

“You call me a traitor and a lawbreaker, but what are you doing here, Lord Stark is the same thing. You are betraying your friend and king, by saving the Targaryen girl,” Mormont pointed out with a smirk, and Ned knew damn well that this was treason. “I wonder what our dear old King Robert would think about his most trusted friend almost a brother, helping his worst enemy.”

“You think I care about your words, or his opinion about me, Mormont? I’m only doing this because enough innocent blood had been shed,” replied, Ned, straightening, and trying to seem unaffected by the words. “You remember what happened to Prince Aegon, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Elia, don’t you?”

And the smirk disappeared at the mention of the Targaryens, and lowering his head, mumbled, “Of course I do.”

“Then you understand the reason of why I do what I do. If you want for her to have the same cruel fate as her family, then do it. Inform the spider about where she is. Let the Lannister and Robert finish what they started, but know that you will never step foot on the shores of the North as long as house Stark is standing.”

After those words, Ned turned ready to leave with squeezed fists, but Mormont stopped him, saying, “I want to go back home, Lord Stark.”

“Bear Island is no longer yours, Ser Jorah. Now Mage Mormont is the ruler of the Island,” Ned replied, glancing over his shoulder.

“I don’t want Bear Island. I only want to return back home, ad ask my father's forgiveness for my action,” Mormont replied, getting up, and Ned approached him, asking, “Will you join the Night’s Watch to clean your name?”

However, at the question the man lowered his head, saying nothing, and Ned added, “I will think on it. But remember, if you go back to the North and your family will want your head, I won’t stand between you and them.”

Mormont nodded, so Ned left him there, returning back to his room where the princess was. He needed to think carefully on this regard and ponder what best course to take, especially if she survives.

Dany stirred as she felt something wet and cold land on her cheek, and when she opened her eyes, slowly, she was greeted by a dark sky full of stars, and what looked like snow falling down. Raising up, she saw that around her there was nothing but snow, while under her, a stone plate.

Suddenly, around her, blue eyes opened in the darkness that was a few steps away from her and circling, followed right after by the appearance of shadows. Her heart started pounding inside her chest while from above her, sibylline roars could be heard, and looking up, Dany saw what looked to be three flying beasts.

Returning her attention to the shadows, Dany saw one of them starting to approach her, as the darkness was covering his pace. He seems to be a man, lean, and not so tall, judging by the shapes. Long curly hairs, and eyes that were drifting from grey to blue in the blink of an eye, and she had half a thought on who this stranger was, but not recognising the eyes.

In the blink of an eye, Dany found herself back down, straddled, and the shadow hovering above her, between her thighs. He was naked, she could feel it, his built body pressed to hers, fa more warmer than his and she felt her gone being raised.

Before Dany could even react, she felt his cold lips seal with hers, and his member piercing her warm folds, spreading her cunt, while his cold lips silence her moans. In the distance, a howling wolf could be heard, as the man above her, the shadow lover that haunted her dreams for the past months started to move inside her.

He was gentle at first, using a slow pace, but soon enough he increased the rhythm and was pounding in her with ferocity. His kisses were devouring her, while Dany arched her back, not really knowing what to do. It was a pleasant feeling, and Dany closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, as he pinned her hands above her head, but the moment did not last long, as she no longer could feel his member inside her, or the weight of his body above her, and when she opened her eyes again, Dany was no longer in that dark and snowy place, but in a warm room. The sight was blurted for a moment, so she started to stroke her eyes, but the moment she moved, sharp pains she felt, making her groan.

“Prince Daenerys. You are awake,” she heard a familiar voice, and when opening her eyes Dany saw that it was Ned Stark who came to her side. “Easy, easy. You were wounded and they are still fresh.”

“What happened?” Dany asked, shifting in her seat, as she tried to find a position that doesn’t hurt.

“The manse was in fire. That is all I know,” the Lord of Winterfell replied, filling a goblet of water, and helping her to drink. “I supposed Lannister assassins found their way to you and wanted to end what they started when King’s Landing fell.”

“They will never let me be,” Dany replied, sighing, and feeling her blood boil, as the events from that night started to return to his mind. Illyrio’s chambers, the man pinning her to the wall, her brother, and the dragon’s eggs. At remembering that, she immediately looked towards Lord stark, saying, “The eggs. The eggs. Did they take the eggs too?”

“No. They were with you,” Lord Stark replied, and she released a sigh of relief. “But they hatched.”

And upon hearing that, she immediately looked at him, confused.

“I don’t know how it happened, my lady, but when I found you in the bathtub, they were with you. Three small dragons,” Lord Stark replied, and she could not believe her ears. “They are still in the sacks-”

“I want to see them,” she immediately said, trying to get up, only to feel the sharp hit at her side, again, and greeting her teeth, she added, “Please, Lord Stark. Bring them to me.”

“As you wish,” Lord Stark replied, moving away, before taking two sacks and return. From the inside, she could see it move, and when he placed one of them on the bed and opened it, Dany saw a small black dragon there, tied.

“Why is he tied?” she asked, panicking.

“It was the only way to protect him,” Lord Stark replied, giving her a dagger, and she immediately got ride of the ropes that were tied around the dragon, who once free, immediately roared at Ned Stark, in an angry way, spreading his wings, while she dared to place her hand on the creature.

The moment they touched, the dragon immediately turned to her, withdrawing his spread wings, looking at her with curiosity, and slowly approaching her. Dany dared to caress him again, and this time, the dragon was reacting to it, pushing his head more into her touch, making Dany giggle. Such a strange feeling it was to touch a living dragon. Dany always dreamed of dragons.

When she saw Lord Stark put the other sack, her eyes were greeted by two more, beautiful dragons. One green and the other cream, and Dany pooched to free them too.

As she was caressing her dragons, Dany asked, never taking her sight away from them, “Why did you save me, Lord Stark.”

“You know the reason, my Lady.”

“Frankly, I don’t. My father killed yours and your brother. My brother Rhaegar kidnaped and raped your sister, according to the tales. So why, I’m wondering, you are protecting me so much? You protected me from my brother when he mistreated me, and you offered me a way out from the marriage with the Khal.”

But Lord Stark did not reply, and Dany dared to glance towards him, seeing the quiet wolf gaze down, as in a pensive way.

So returning her attention back to her dragons, Dany decided to voice the words that Viserys put in her mind after she informed him on the regard, saying, “Do you expect me to marry you in exchange for this? Or that I marry your son to give you access to the Iron Throne?”

“No, not at all, my lady. I’m already married, and I love my wife, while for my son, I have other things in mind. I want no ties with the South because northern don’t fare very well down there,” replied Ned Stark. “What I’m doing, is because of the mistakes I made sixteen years ago.”

“I see. Well, if a marriage isn’t what you are searching, then you have my gratitude and I accept your offer if it still stands,” she replied, glancing at him, seeing Stark a bit confused, and looking back to the dragons, she added, “You told me that if I came with you if I renounce to this alliance that would have helped my brother take back the throne, you will let me live my life in peace with my last kin.”

“Yes. That was what I promised you. But now things are more complicated,” the Lord replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, and the moment he did so, the black dragon hissed at Lord Stark, spreading his wings menacingly, who got up again. She smiled, placing a hand on the dragon’s little head, to reassure him, who looked back at her.

“If you think that I am going to give them up, you are wrong, my lord. They are as much a part of my family as my lost kin, and since they were born when I was there, I am their mother. And a mother never abandons her children," she replied, smiling as she saw how the cream one settled down beside her, snuggling closer and curling before Dany turned her attention back to the Warden of the North. "These are my terms, Lord Stark. It is up to you to accept them or not, for I know that even alone with them I can survive."

“I don’t think I have many choices, then. I only hope that you won’t use them for revenge,” replied Stark, and Dany, laying back, said, “We will see about that.”

Stark did not react to her words, leaving Dany alone, and she started to think on how to name them. Two of them, of course, will be named after her brothers. Rhaegal and Viserion. The black one, on the other hand, she needs to think better because he seems to be the one that she is feeling the most.

In the North…

Jon was leaning against the wooden wall in Lord commander’s solar, looking outside as the men were training, and while the old Bear was reading the terms, and at the same time pondering on his proposal. He still could not believe to what degree this place has come. Once a great, proud and honourable order, now reduced to nothing else but a prison, where the worst scum of Westeros was sent, or those who had no place in the Seven Kingdoms, like he once, long time ago. Jon shuddered at the thought of what he wanted to do, and seeing what it become, he was glad he did not come.

“What do you say, Maester Aemon?” asked the Old Bear, scratching his white beard.

“That as long as Lord Snow promises to come in our help when it’s needed, there is no reason to reject his proposals.”

“Of course I will. That was the main purpose because of why I was raised to a Lord and granted a castle in the Gift, Maester Aemon.”

“Then we agree. I shall write to my sister and persuade her to accept these terms for the Western Harbour. That will benefit both Bear Island and the Watch."

“Thank you, Lord Commander,” Jon nodded, but before leaving, he said, taking another step forward, “I would like to ask another favour from you, my lord. I have had the opportunity to watch your new recruits while training, and I have seen a lot of potential in many of them."

"You want to deprive us of recruits, boy?"

"No, not at all. These men will continue to serve the Watch. I was only volunteering to sharpen them into great warriors. After all, isn't that what the Watch needs? Fighters not green boys."

"We already have a good Master at Arms at Castle Black, Lord Snow. Ser Alliser is a man of honour, and a seasoned knight of many battles since the Mad King’s reign."

"I don't doubt his skills, my lord, and forgive my bluntness, but your Master at Arms doesn't treat men well, and above all, he doesn't inspire them enough to turn them into great fighters."

The Lord Commander did not reply, looking down as in thinking of his offer, scratching his beard, but in was Maester Aemon who came in his defence, saying, “I think we should grant Lord Snow this, my lord. He is right about Ser Alliser, and in my lifetime, I saw many knights become great, shaped by men who believe in them, while others fall into the unknown and lose their warrior spirit.”

“So be it. You can choose the recruits you want, Snow, but not too many. After all the King Beyond the Wall is coming and I need those men should something happen in the South and King Robert refuse our call for help,” the Lord Commander said, getting up, and heading for the exit, while Jon, approaching the old blind Maester, said, “Thank you for your help, Maester, Aemon, but may I ask why?”

“Why have I voiced so much in your favour? Isn't it clear? I have great faith in your qualities, Lord Snow, and I believe it is you who will lead us to victory against our enemies beyond the Wall."

"I doubt the Wildings will be much of an opponent."

"Who said anything about the Wildings?" pointed Maester Aemon, getting up, "Now if you don't mind, can you call for my attendant, my lord? I think the time has come for me to retire. These poor old bones need rest."

"Of course," Jon replied, quickly rushing to call his attendant. On his return, he asked the old man, “Who is this King Beyond the Wall?”

“Mance Rayder. Your uncle did not mention him?”

“No. It seems he omitted the man,” Jon blurted. “I meet him once, when the man came to Winterfell. I and my brother were making a prank, promising us to tell no one.”

“If he managed to gather all the wildlings clans, it is a man to be feared, my lord, and to not be underestimated. Not many managed to do it in the past years,” the Old Maester replied. "Before our ways part, my Lord, let me give you the same advice I gave my brother long time ago. Let the boy die, Jon Snow. And let the men to be born."

After those words, the old man left a speechless Jon in that room, making him wonder what those words mean, and as he made his way out of the room, to join Lord Commander, who was heading towards the recruits.

“Attention recruits. With Lord Snow here, we come to an agreement. He will choose some of you to join his houseguards to be trained and shaped in strong warriors,” the Old bear started only to be interrupted by Ser Alliser, who, stepping forward, said, “I must disagree, Lord Commander. We need those men her at the wall, and I’m sure I can shape them in fare better warrior than Lord Snow.”

And Jon could feel the contempt in his voice, but it was the Lord Commander who spoke, saying, “I made my decision, Ser Alliser. Live with it.” Then, looking towards him, the old bear said, “Chose your men, Snow.”

So, he, taking a deep breath, climbed down the stairs and started to approach those who seemed to have the potential to become great.

“What’s your name?” Jon asked the ginger one, a boy of his age but that seem to be taller, who glanced towards the old bear, before replying, “Grenn.”

“Would you like to come, Grenn?” Jon asked, and the boy nodded, smirking before he moved to the next one. “And you?”

“Eddison Tollett.”

“The son of a lord?” asked Jon and the boy, who seem a few years older, nodded, “Would you like to join?” and Eddison nodded again. Then Jon chose the last three men before they all departed back to his castle. Now he hoped that this decision will not backfire him, because they don’t seem very trustworthy.

A few days later…

Braavos...

They were approaching the famous city harbour of Braavos, a place where she lived her childhood under Ser Willem’s care, and Dany could feel the anticipation through her whole body. She begged Lord stark to stop before her old warden’s manse on the way to the Iron Bank, and Lord Stark accepted.

However, there was still time before that happened, and Dany decided to enquire the wolf more about his pack.

So, getting up from where her dragons were, Dany took a deep breath, and looking at Ned Stark, said, “Tell me something about your family, Lord Stark. If I’m going to live with them, I want to know how they are, what they like.”

He chuckled, sighing, and starting to describe her his family. “My wife’s name is Catelyn, and she comes from House Tully. I married her before…Before…”

“Before the rebellion, right?” she finished the words, seeing him struggle, and lord Stark nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I wasn’t supposed to marry her, but my brother Brandon. He was supposed to have all. Warden of the north, Lord of Winterfell, father of queens and ladies and lords.  He was raised to be that, I wasn’t. However,” he did not finish, looking up at her, and Dany realized why, because she knew the Stark’s fate before the rebellion, because of her father. “But let’s leave the past behind.” He dismissed her apologise before even happened. “She gave me five wonderful children, and the oldest of them all, Robb, he is the hire of Winterfell, and one day he will take my place.”

And she saw how his face lightened with joy and pride as he was mentioning his older son, so Dany asked an obvious response, “Is he of my age?”

“No. Older I would say. Of at least a year. He is a good boy. Honourable, kind, a proper knight, as the southern would say,” chuckled the Lord.

“Perfect for every woman,” retorted Dany, joking, even though not so much. She actually dreamed of this kind of thing once but now no more.”

Lord Stark, chuckled, nodding, “But if I can find a flaw in his character, I would say he sometimes gets arrogant.” And Dany grimaced at his comment. Of course, he was arrogant. Robb Stark was the heir of Winterfell and future Warden of the north. How can he not be considering that one day he will rule over a land that is big as all the south together, “Then I have two more sons, they are the last born. Bran and Rickon. One is gentle, and kind, while the other one more wild, like my older brother, but still kind.”

 And upon hearing that Dany smiled, imaging how their encounter may happen, but at the same time fearing that they won’t accept her in their pack.

“I also have two daughters. Sansa, who is a well-made southern lady, and then there is Arya,” Lord stark, said, leaning back. “She is…She looks like my sister. Like Lya.”

And upon hearing that, Dany shifted in her seat, and her heart started to increase the rated pace of the beats. She knew the story of Lyanna Stark. And as the lord of Winterfell was telling her more about Winterfell and about his family, Dany’s mind drifted into the old memories, as Viserys’ words about their brother started to play in her mind.

“If it hadn't been for that wolf bitch, we would still be the rulers of Westeros, sweet sister, not some beggars across the Sea who beg for If Rhaegar had kept his cock in his breeches and done his duty, our father would have still been the king, and you would have been my bride and not a savage's.”

She hated the woman for seducing her brother and dropped this fate upon their shoulders, but maybe there is more to the story than what Viserys’ words, and looking at lord Stark, she asked, stopping his story, “Did you know my brother Rhaegar well, Lord Stark?”

“I fear no, my Lady. I saw him the first time at Harrhenal during the tourney. But never before that time. ”

“So you can tell me nothing about him.”

“Well, when I was in the Vale as a ward of Lord Arryn, I heard many stories about him. About his skill with the lance, and as a raider. I can tell you that he was good men, that he was a honourable man, and someone who was too much involved with prophecies,” Lord Stark replied, but before she could enquire him more on Rhaegar and Lyanna, the horn of Braavos could be heard, startling her for a moment.

“We are at Braavos. It’s better if we get ready,” Lord Stark said, getting up, and she did the same, taking the light cape, and putting the hood on.

“When the meeting is over, I would like to learn more about my brother and your sister's situation, Lord Stark,” she said, stopping the man by the arm, but he did not seem to want to react to her word, so she pulled away, and changing the topic asked, as they left her cabin. “Why are you seeking a meeting with the Iron Bank?”

“For the North, my lady. Winter is coming, and the north is alone. Robert maybe my friend, but I doubt he will help me through the winter, especially if he depends from the Lannister and Lannister only care about Lannister,” he replied, and her stomach turned at the mere mention of such a House or the man who was sitting on the chair that was of her family. But she could do nothing. Not now at least.

Chapter Text

White Harbour...

Daenerys stood on the bow of the ship resting her hands on its woody edge and feeling how the wind made her silver-gold hair float in the air. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of this northern cold that instantly froze her inner lungs for a moment before she opened her eyes again, seeing in the distance the northernmost city in the north. White Harbor.

She could see many ships in the bay, and judging by the sails, they were from all parts of the known world. As she was eyeing the view of this magnificent moment, Dany tried to imagine what King's Landing looks like, and heard Lord Stark say, "It's beautiful isn't it?" as he stopped beside her.

"It is but I feel the northern cold doesn't do me much good," Daenerys replied half-jokingly, and the Quiet Wolf chuckled, retorting, "You'll get used to it," before glancing behind, and leaning towards her he said in a more lower voice, "Remember what I told you. Never reveal your identity or even your name for even though the North is under my rule there are Lannister spies everywhere ready to kill you."

"Do not worry about that, Lord Stark. All my life I've been hiding and running from them. I know how to play a role when it's needed, and when to lie," Dany replied, glancing at the Warden of the North, before adding with a rather worried expression, gazing a the white city, "but I must be honest with you Lord Stark. What concerns me is not the Lannisters but a closer enemy."

"And that would be?"

"Your family," Dany said, leaning sideways, and as she rested her elbow on the edge, she continued. "As you told me, your wife will think badly about me when she will first meet me. She will think I am your young mistress, and considering your reputation with already having a bastard son she might actually believe that lie."

"Don't worry about that. You won't be at Winterfell for too long. Once things are settled and I have explained to her the reason for you being here, you will leave Winterfell and go to live with my son Jon."

"So you want to hand me over to a bastard?" she asked, swallowing and trying to sound outraged by his words, glaring at him, and feeling a bit insulted regarding the fact that she was forced to be dwelling in a bastard's castle considering what Daemon Blackfyre did to her House.

"Jon is a good lad and doesn't look at status since you will be known as Dany Storm if I'm not mistaken. Even though he has a castle and was made Lord, his morals are the same as in the past and he would never hurt an innocent girl like you," Lord Stark replied leaning on the edge of the bow and looking towards the city. "But rest assured that your friend Dorhea and Ser Jorah will be with you. That way you won't feel alone."

"Thank you for that reassurance Lord Stark, but I would much rather have stayed in Winterfell since you know my identity and knowing that you would be there to protect me in case of danger."

"Jon is one of the finest young warriors in the North, my Lady. He will be there to protect you," Lord Stark replied, placing a hand on her shoulder to reassure her further, but she scoffed, crossing her arms, and looking away, sulking. "You will still be able to visit Winterfell whenever you wish and speak with me if you need to, my lady. But I doubt you will need my counsel, considering that my son's castle is much closer to Castle Black than Winterfell, and where Maester Aemon is. He is a much wiser man than I am and I am sure he will be very happy to give you advice whenever you need it."

At which Daenerys immediately asked hopefully, "Is it possible to have Maester Aemon at your son's castle?"

"I doubt it. He is the only Master at Castle Black, my Lady," the Lord replied, and she looked down with sadness. "But I could try and write to the Lord Commander."

"Thank you. I would be most grateful if you would do so," she replied, looking up and smiling.

Lord Stark nodded, before straightening up and saying, "Now we would better get ready for landing a week and we will be in Winterfell." However, as he was leaving, Ned Stark said, "As regarding my son Jon, I hope you'll get along."

And she nodded, returning her gaze to the city, while thinking about this bastard son of an important Lord like Eddard Stark. Jon Snow was his name if she remembered correctly. Lord Stark didn't say much about him and not even when she asked who his mother was, but then it wasn't like she cared much about a bastard. She was sure that one day Jon Snow will do the same thing that Daemon Blackfyre did and turn against the rightful heir of House Stark.

A few days later...

They stopped to let the horses rest a bit since they had been traveling for a long time, and she herself was feeling a bit sore despite traveling inside a carriage with Dorhea and Tycho Nestoris. The camp was raised, and Dany got herself ready for another night in the open. Another night without much sleep, as she didn't really appreciate this cold weather.

As she sat before the campfire, finishing her food and taking a sip of water, Dany asked, "Tell me about your bastard son. If I'm going to be living in his castle, I want to know more about my host."

"There is not much I can say, my lady. As I have mentioned, he is a good fighter, a good boy, very kind and honourable. You will get along very well."

"Is that all?"

"There is not much I can tell you. I think you can understand the situation, my lady. The life of a bastard is much harder and detached than that of the true-born, but still, Jon has been properly taught, like his brother."

"And you're not afraid he'll usurp him?"

"No. Because Jon would never do that. He loves his siblings too much. He would die for them before he would see them hurt," Lord Stark replied, leaving her quite baffled. "You will like him."

"It seems you are almost trying to match us, Lord Stark," chuckled Dany.

"Not at all, my lady. As I have told you before, I have no intention of marrying my sons to the south."

"And yet you have done that."

"True, but out of duty not of choice. Had it been mine,, then my choice would have been far more different."

"Who was your choice?" asked Dany, intrigued by this whole story, wondering who was the woman that conquered the Quiet Wolf's heart.

"It doesn't matter. She's dead now," he replied, sighing, and saddening.

"Was she his mother?"

"No," the Lord replied, but Dany could see a change of mood, almost of irritation, undoubtedly hiding something, and so decided to no longer ask about the mother.

"What else can you tell me about him?"

"He wanted to join the Night's Watch, to erase the stain on my name, but I offered him a chance. A castle and the title of Lord, while in return he will come in the Watch's help should I be unable to do it," the Lord replied, while she looked into the flame pensive on the mate. "Now, if you will excuse me, my lady. I need to instruct the men on the shifts," he said, getting up and heading for his men.

Dany, on the other hand, turning her attention to the bear knight, asked, "Have you ever met Jon Snow, Ser Jorah?"

"No, my lady. But I have heard of him. All of Westeros knows of him," Jorah replied, and she returned her gaze to the flames. Well, if no one wants to tell her much about the boy, then she will have to ask his siblings once they will be on good terms of course, but she kept fearing their reaction. However, when Lord Stark returned, Dany, she decided to press him more on the matter about Jon Snow.

“May I speak frankly with you, Lord Stark?” she asked, as he sat down and when he nodded, she continued. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you. I-“

“Not saving me. That I understand. But I don’t understand why would you send me to live with your son.”

“Because of your beasts-“

“They are not beasts to me,” she snaped, getting angry. They were her children, and she didn’t like for Stark to call them beasts.

“Because of your dragons and because of your look,” replied Stark, with gaze on the fire, and she lowered her head. “His castle is well hidden from the eyes of the world, and your dragon will be able to grow and fly freely. And your appearance, hidden. Yes, you may say that you can dye your hair, but you look too much like your brother and your mother.”

“You know her?” she asked, feeling her heart race.

“No. But I saw her once, at Harrhenal when I was young.”

She looked down, saddened, and, touching her mother’s ring. “You say that my features are a problem. But will your son agree to shelter a Targaryen?”

“Yes. For some strange reason, he idolizes the Targaryen kings. Sheltering one of their last kin won’t be such a tough choice for him.”

“And what if he falls for me?”

“Doubt it. Upon him hangs the guilty of being a bastard. He will never be with a woman because of that reason,” Stark replied, and she glanced at him, seeing the Lord look back at her. “Unless you intend to seduce him and marry. Do you intend to seduce him?”

“No. Of course not,” she retorted, scoffing, hugging her knees and looking in the fire. She could never fall for a bastard. “But I can’t promise that in time our relationship won’t develop, Lord Stark. After all, if I will live with him, it’s not like I can always give him the cold cheek. It’s not my nature and you know it. We are young-“

“I know,” He cut her before Dany could even continue. “If you think that his unmarried status is the problem, I will find someone suitable for him, a Mormont maybe, or some second born daughter, and will clear any worries you have.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dany immediately replied, trying to change his mind, because in true it was far more easy to live in a castle where the Lord isn’t married or doesn’t want to be.

“Good. Let’s get some rest now. We are half away from Winterfell,” the Lord replied, getting under the furs on the ground, while she went to the carriage, where her dragons were.

Magthol…

Since their return from castle black, they spent more than half-day in training to shape their skills and make them true warriors. Some were up to the expectation, like Edd, who had previously built skills, and Grenn, who beside the sword, wanted to try the short double axe too, and Jon must say it was far more suitable to him than the sword, since his use strength above technique and his moves were less clumsy.

“Enough for today,” Jon said, disarming Grenn, and panting, before looking at the others. “With every day that passes, you are getting better and better, but we will need better steel for our weapons, so I will take you recruits to Winterfell in order that you may forge the weapon that suits you better,” Jon added, and they all agreed with eagerness, but before he could leave the courtyard, Jon heard the horn blow, and men from the wall shout, “Riders are approaching!”

And so, he immediately run up the walls to the tower, and taking the Myrish eye from the man, he looked at the party. A dozen of men. Bears on their banners. They were from House Mormont. It seems Commander Mormont kept his word.

“Open the gates,” Jon said to the man next to him, before returning his gaze on the riders.

“Yes, my lord,” the man bowed. “Open the gates!”

And leaning on the other side that was facing the courtyard, Jon saw the raiders get in, and so he greeted their leader, “Welcome to Magthol, my lady.”

“Thank you, Lord Snow,” the woman bowed her head, looking up, as he climbed down the stairs and once down, he saw her off the horse too. “I don’t think we know each other. My name is Dacey Mormont, heir to Bear Island.”

“Jon Snow,” he introduced himself, clapping her forearm. “Did not expect you her so soon, my lady.”

“When the old bear informed us about your proposal, my mother sent me here at once. So here I am ready ti list to you offer, but first, meat and alee would be gladly accepted. We are bears after all.”

 And Jon chuckled, showing the way to the great hall, “How did you find us?”

“I know these lands better than you, Jon Snow,” she retorted, and he chuckled.

Once inside the great hall, the woman got rid of her armour, and after they finished eating and after a couple of cups of ale, Jon presented her the proposal, for the harbour, and Dacey was examining the details, mainly regarding what concerned House Mormont.

“Dose Lord Stark approve this?”

“He doesn’t know yet about this. He is away and I don’t know when he will return, but as soon as he will be back in Winterfell, I intend to ride there with this scroll, should the conditions be accepted by all the parts of course.”

“Well. If what I read is really the truth, then I think they are acceptable, and I can speak in my mother’s stead,” the woman replied, taking another gulp of ale. “Whenever you want to start, send a raven to Bear Island and we will provide men to help you rise the harbour, and settle a garrison if a small force there.” And Jon nodded, as Dacey stirred, getting up. “Now if you will excuse me. I will retire. I need a good bed where to rest my back after the journey.”

“Sadly, I don’t have much.”

“It will be better than a cold ground under the sky,” she replied, before leaning closely to his ears, whispering, “But if you think your bed is too cold to sleep alone come to me. I’m always willing to share it with a man in need, especially if such man is handsome as you and the son of the Warden of the North.”

“Bastard son, my lady,” but she did not react to it, leaving the hall with Tom’s daughter who will show her the rooms, while Jon released the breath he was holding since the moment she leaned. He needs to send a raven to Winterfell and inform them of his arrival.

A few days later…

Winterfell...

The journey seemed never-ending, but finally, they reached the heart of the north. Winterfell. A very old fortress, but one that was not the same size as White Harbour or other places in Westeros, according to Lord Stark.

The nearest village was called Wintertown and when they passed it the few people outside immediately welcomed their Lord Hey as her carriage continued towards the castle. When they passed the gates, however, her heart started to beat fast. And when he stopped Dany swallowed, feeling her hands shake, and so she clenched the fists.

“Are you scared, my lady?” asked Tycho Nestoris.

“No. Why should I be? Lord Stark and his family are my friends,” Dany replied, trying not to show anxiety, and fear, despite her heart was pounding in her chest,  to which the banker gave a sympathetic smile.  “But may I ask why an envoy from the Iron Bank of Braavos would accept to make a deal with a lesser House, whose head is nothing else but a bastard?”

“Oh, we in the free city of Braavos don’t pay attention to names or titles or status. The Iron Bank is always ready to support young lads who wants to make such a step.”

“As long as it benefits you,” Dany pointed out, making the man smile, but before the conversation could continue, the carriage stopped, and she took a deep breath, pulling up the hood and ready to get down the moment the door of the carriage opened.

The moment she climbed down, Dany started to look at this ancient stronghold upon which the domain of the direwolf never waned, standing there for more than eight thousands year, withstanding every invasion that had occurred, from the south, from the sea, and from the dark lands of beyond the Wall.

 When she went in the search of Lord Stark with the gaze, Dany saw him talk with a lady who must be Catelyn Stark, and in a very heatedly manner, before Tycho Nestoris was introduced. 

However, her eyes shifted from Lord and Lady Stark to those who were next to the woman.  Undoubtedly their children.  There was the eldest one that she forgot the name, who seemed to never take his eyes off her since the moment she got down from the carriage, and to his right, the two daughters of House Stark were standing with the little one keeping annoying the oldest, and Dany found it cute but at the same time she envied them because she always dreamed this kind of relationship between siblings.

She shook her head, moving to the next pair, made by the youngest one. Rickon and Brandon if she wasn’t mistaken. They must have been named after Lord Stark’s father and older brother.

“Naerys. Come. I want to introduce you to my family,” lord Stark, called for her, snapping Dany out from her thoughts, and the moment those words left his mouth, Lady Stark stormed out, followed right behind by her two daughters, even though the younger one was more dragged away by her mother, just like Brandon.

Dany took a deep breath of the northern chill, before approaching him, who introduced her to his eldest. “Naerys, this is my eldest son and heir, Robb, while this little one is Rickon. Son, this is Naerys Storm. A girl I saved during my journey to Pentos and who did not have another place where to go. I offered her a place at Winterfell.”

“A pleasure, my lady,” the boy greeted her, taking her hand, and kissing the knuckles, making Dany blush, and thanking his kindness with a smile.

“I hope you will be kind to the girl, Robb since as you saw, there will be tensions in the following days till I will clear things with your mother since she clearly misunderstood. Now walk her to the best and warmest guest room in the new keep.”

“Of course, father,” the boy replied, never ceasing to smile at her, as he offered his elbow, but Dany looked at Lord Stark in guidance who nodded saying.  “Go, Dany.  He will see you to your room, and Ser Jorah with Jory will soon bring you your belongings.”

Dany nodded, intertwining her arm with Robb’s and following him to the keep, but not before glancing behind, seeing Lord Stark talk to the bear knight and his captain.

The way to her chambers it was awkward, made in silence, and Dany felt took very long, as they stopped first at the room that was granted to the Braavosi, but she was grateful that the inside of the keep was warm, and that was good for her dragon blood.

When they reached her supposed room, Robb Stark opened the door, letting her in, and saying, “This is one of the best and warmest guest rooms, it’s close to the Lord's chambers.”

“Thank you,” she bowed her head, as the servants were opening the drapers, and lightening the fire in the fireplace.

As she was looking around, with clapped hands before her belly, Dany heard the boy ask, “Are you his mistress?”

“No. As he said, lord stark saved me from certain death,” Dany immediately reassured the boy, sitting down on the bed, and taking a deep breath, she thought of a believable story to make, “When I was in Pentos with my brother, we got attacked by some thrives in the dusk of the day, and lord stark with his men saved me, but it was too late for my brother. He died of his wounds.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she heard him say, and Dany looked up, thanking him with a smile, seeing that he truly was, and that made him feel guilty for the lie she made, but she cannot reveal herself to him. “I’m sure you are very tired after the journey, my lady, so I will leave you alone. Will make sure to borrow some warmer clothes from my sister Sansa, and deliver them to you, if you would like.”

“Thank you, my lord. Would be very grateful.”

“You’re welcome. And call me Robb,” he said, smiling, making Dany blush again, as she glanced down, while he left, and once alone, she sighed, laying down. Well, this went better than how she expected it to be. Of course, besides lady Stark’s behavior.

As she was laying there, Dany wondered if Robb Stark was her shadow lover from her dreams.  He was young and the direwolf was the emblem of his house. It could be, but the only problem in his part was that he wasn’t comely.  He was highborn just like her, and so were his clothes not to mention his dark auburn hairs.

“How dare you disrespect me again!”  his wife screamed, with hands on her hips, and pointing the finger. “Not only you gave your bastard a castle, and men, now you dare to swing your mistress in my face! Bring in our home!”

“Cat-“

“Did you get this whore pregnant too or you have the intention to do it?!” His wife screamed, cutting him. “I want her out, Ned! Away from my home and my sight! I want and I want your bastard at the wall before the next moon””

“I cannot do it, Catelyn. I give my word to the girl. I assured her that I would have protected her.”

“Your word?” hissed his wife throwing her head in a laugh.  “Your word means nothing, Lord Stark since you break the oaths so easily at the sight of a warm young cunt. First the mother of your bastard, and now this. You broke your wedding oaths and honour twice Eddard Stark. It’s enough to make you lose your face.”

However, Ned had enough of arguing, and turning on his heels, headed for the door, “Where are you going? To your mistress? Are you really that cruel to make me listen as you fuck her?”

But Ned ignored her words, leaving his chambers and heading for the princess’s chambers before he go to pay visit to the crypts and ask advice to the Old Gods of what to do.

When he got there, Ned knocked at the door, and Mormont immediately come out from the one before hers but closed immediately after he saw it was him, while the girl opened it, with a surprised expression on her face.

“Lord Stark? What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Wanted to see if everything was all right,” Ned replied, as the princess stepped aside to let him in, and Ned took a glance at the room, seeing the dragons out, and not liking it, but before he could voice his displeasure, he heard the girl say as she closed the door. “I was about to put them back in the cage, Lord Stark, and I only pulled them out for a moment so that I could feed them and so they had the chance to stretch their wings.”

“I understand, my lady, but you need to be more careful,” Ned replied, as the princess started to put them back to their cage. “I hope the room is warm and comfortable.”

“It is. More than what I had for the past years since we left Ser Wylem’s manse,” the princess replied, smiling, placing the third one in the cage.

“For the next few days, the situation will be very difficult as my wife is firm on her belief, so I ask you to ignore her as much as possible and not pay attention to her words that will be led by pride and anger.”

“Of course, my lord.  Though I think it will be difficult to do so,” the girl replied, with barely a whisper, while resting her hand on the chair’s back and looking down. “It would be far more easy for both of us if I left for your son’s castle. “

“I know, but that is not possible, my lady. Jon isn’t at his castle, but on the way to Winterfell as we are talking. You will have to have some more patience.”

The Princess did not react to his words, but he could see that she did not like his news, however, taking a step closer to her, Ned said, “I will make sure that you are not left alone with her, Princess Daenerys. I promise.”

And she nodded, as he headed for the door, “Make sure that it’s locked, my lady.”

The moment he was outside, Ned heard the door lock, and so he turned his attention to Mormont’s door, knocking. When it opened and the man appeared, Ned said, “The situation will be tense. Never leave her side.”

Mormont nodded, without any more questions and Ned headed for the crypts.

All the night he could not close an eye because of the new lady that was living under their roof. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon in his lifetime, and as a future Lord of a Great House, he met many in the past years, as possible matches, mainly northern.  But still, no one of them was like Naerys. Rob was glad that she wasn’t his father's mistress, because that give him hope that he can marry her one day, despite his mother keep blabbing around.

He felt so confused right now about his feelings that he didn’t know how to act. He wanted to woo her, but he feared that she will see this act as a way in getting her in his bed, to fuck her and toss her aside, but it wasn’t that way. If he asks Theon for advice, Robb was sure that his words would be “If you want her then make your way. You are the Lord's son,” but Robb wasn’t someone who force his way with a girl he desired. It was in this kind of moment that he missed Jon. If his brother was here, Robb would have had someone with whom to talk about this feeling towards Naerys without mockery and lordly comments.

As he was walking through the hallways heading to the Great Hall, with the mind focused on the lady, Robb saw a servant girl carrying a paddle and he immediately stopped her, asking, “Where are you taking that?”

“Lord Stark commanded me to bring the fasts to lady Naerys room.”

“Why? She doesn’t want to eat in the Great Hall with us?”

“I don’t know, my lord. Those were lord Stark’s instructions,” the girl replied, and Robb saw this as a chance to step forward.

“Take those to the great Hall. She will come there.”

“But lord Stark-“

“Do it,” he said in a more commanding way, taking a step closer, and the servant girl nodded, bowing and leaving, while he, headed towards Naerys’ chambers. Now the only thing he needs to do is trying his luck with her, and not stumble on his mistakes. See how she may respond to his advance, even though Robb was very confident in his success.

When he got there, Robb stopped at the door for a moment, and leaning his ear to it, tried to overhear. He could not understand a word, but her giggles could be recognised and that made him smile. 

So, gathering his courage, Robb raised his fist, knocking at the door, immediately hearing whines and roaring from the inside.

“My lady? Is everything alright?” Robb called, trying the door.

“Yes. A moment please,” came her voice from the other side, but it took more than a moment before she opened the door, greeting him with her beautiful amethysts eyes and a smile on her face, breaching his heart that the moment she realised who he was, disappeared to his displeasure.  “Lord Robb? What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to see if everything was all right and ask if I could walk you to the Great Hall for the morning meal,” Robb said, flaunting his best smile, only to be interrupted by the knight who was sleeping in the opposite room.

“I...I don’t think it's wise, my lord,” she stammered, looking down. “Your mother-“

“Do not worry about my, mother, lady Naerys. I will be there with you,” Robb reassured the girl, smiling again and she bite her lower lips, looking behind towards her covered chest, before nodding, and taking the key from the other side she locked the door. Robb, finding this quite strange, said, “You don’t have to fear for your belongings, my lady. No one will steal them.”

“I know, it’s just...I still fear the thieves from Pentos. I hope you can understand.”

“Of course,” he smiled, even though he didn’t.

They started to walk in silence, towards the Great Hall, with Mormont following right behind, to his displeasure and Robb tried to peck at her with the corner of his eye, wanting to see how she was reacting to his presence. Usually, the girls were always flushing and trying to attract his attention with the hopes that he may bed them, using their deadly weapons.

But she didn’t. Naerys was walking with clapped hands before her, looking forward with a focused expression, and in a dress that wasn’t meant for seduction. On the contrary. It was covering every inch of her body, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t admire her shapes.

Feeling that the silence was making the situations a bit too awkward and uncomfortable for his taste, Robb, gathering his thoughts and clearing his throat, said, “I hope you found the room comfortable and warm enough, my lady. I know how cold nights can become sometimes with the coming of the winter.”

“I did. And it preserved the warmth even now, once the morning lights came,” the girl replied smiling, but still avoiding his attention.

“I’m glad,” was all he said, as they continued. “Winterfell was built on a hot spring, and usually in the castle or outside is quite warm. At least for northerners.” But she didn’t reply, and he decided to end it there, not wanting to make her too uncomfortable because it was still only the first day.

When they reached the hall, they found it already full of people, or at least of those who were allowed in, and the moment they stepped in everyone stopped from eating, turning towards them, and at the great table, he could see his mother send daggers with the stare in their direction, or rather in the girl’s direction.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” Robb heard her whisper, trying to leave, but he grabbed her hand, stopping the girl. 

“And I told you everything will be alright,” Robb retorted, intertwining her hand with his elbow and starting to approach, or rather drag her, to the great table of the Lord where his father seemed to be missing.

“What are you doing?” his mother asked when they got there, and Robb helped her down on the chair. “Robb?”

“Please, mother. We only want to break the morning fast in peace. There is no need for antics.”

“Antics? May I remind you who she is and why she is here, Robb?” hissed his mother, making him roll his eyes and take a sip of ale, while water was given to the girl, who started to eat in silence and gaze fixed on her plate.

“Father assured me that she isn’t his mistress, mother. Only a girl whom he promised protection. And I believe him,” Robb whispered, leaning towards his mother, who standing up, stormed out of the hall following right behind by Sansa.

“Who are you?” Robb heard Arya ask, toying with the knife, and he immediately pulled it away from her hands, before she could hurt herself. “What?”

“It’s not a toy, Arya. The knife is only used to cut meat,” he replied, earning a scoff from her, before taking a bite from his meal, and after swallowing, since the girl next to him wasn’t replying, he said, “To answer you. She is Naerys, and she comes from Pentos?”

“Only Naerys?”

“Naerys Storm,” the girl said. 

“You are a bastard like Jon,” Arya pointed out and Robb wanted to scold his sister for her bluntness, but firs he dared to glance at the girl, seeing Naerys only nod. “Are you a Targaryen like Visenya the warrior queen?”

“Enough, Arya. She is not a Targaryen. Naerys comes from Pentos and if you paid more attention to Maester Luwin’s lessons, you would have remembered that the Free Cities are full of people with Valyrian features,” replied Robb, stopping Arya’s annoying question. “Now go. Leva Naerys to break her fast in peace.”

His sister rolled her eyes, getting up, and mumbling something under her breath, left the hall, and once alone, Robb said, taking a sip, “Don’t mind her behavior, my lady. She is a good girl. A good sister, it’s just she idolises Visenya. It’s something she shares with Jon. They both idolise the Targaryen.”

“And you?” Naerys mumbled.

“Me?”

“Do you idolise the dragon lords?” She asked, toying with the food.

“No. I acknowledged the work they did in uniting Westeros, but I don’t forget the bad things they did. Dance of Dragons.  Field of Fire. Harrenhall. All unhonourable things,” Robb replied, only to hear a chuckle from the girl who retorted, “You call them unhonourable, and yet, neither House Stark did honourable things when uniting the North.”

“The Targaryen killed my grandfather and uncle, while the last Dragon kidnaped and reaped my aunt. They deserved the fate they got and king Robert is a far better ruler than the Mad king. He gives us seventeen years of peace. Which is more than what the Targaryen gave,” Robb replied, squeezing the cup, but releasing when he saw the girl get up. “My lady. Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Robb. Our walk to the Godswood needs to wait. I’m not feeling well and would like to retire to my chambers.”

“Of course. May I walk you to your rooms?” Robb asked, l but she disappeared before he could even finish, and he wondered what he said to make her run away.

“A wolf who lets his prey run away isn’t a true wolf,” he heard Theon say, as the boy entered the hall, and ogled after her with a smirk. “She is the first one that does not fall for your charm. Maybe I should try my luck,” Theon continued, walking backwards and approaching. “Do you want to compete for her attention, Stark?”

“She is not a thing you can use to fluffy your appetite, Greyjoy. Stay away from her,” Robb retorted, not liking Theon’s behaviour for the first time.

“We will see about that, Stark,” Theon said, sitting at the table, while Robb got up leaving it. Robb won’t let him get her. Greyjoy only wanted Naerys to fluffy his ego, while he wanted her for a whole different reason.

A nest of snakes was this place. She knew it. She knew that it was a bad idea to follow Lord Stark here. She should have stayed in Essos and raise her dragons there. At least there, they wouldn’t have been caged, and she would use her true name.

“Finally! I thought Robb would have never let your skirt go,” Dany heard a young girlish voice say, and turning, she saw the youngest of the Stark girl behind her. Crossing her arms Arya, if she remembered correctly, asked, “Are you here to steal my father?”

“What? No! Of course no. I’m not his mistress,” she reassured the little girl, who smiled.

“Good! Then we can be friends. Unless you want to be friends with Sansa and her girls who will blather all day of knights in shinning armours, and tourneys and flowers and dresses.”

Hearing that, made Dany chuckle. “And you don’t like those things?”

“No. I don’t need a knight to protect me. I can do it myself, just like Queen Visenya and Nymeria.”

And upon hearing that, Dany remembered Robb’s words, and Swallowing asked, trying not to sound too excited, “Do you like Visenya?”

And the little girl nodded. “I admire her. And it irritates me that when is talked about the conquest the bards sang more about Aegon and Balerion, than Rhaenys and Visenya they seem to forget that Aegon wasn’t alone when he conquered the Seven Kingdoms and besided that, if it wasn’t for Visenya’s intervention...Am I boring you?” the little girl asked,  almost as she was offended that she did not say a word.

“No. Not at all. It’s just...it’s just that I would have never imagined that a daughter of House Stark would admire a Targaryen queen.”

“And I’m not the only one. We all idolise a Targaryen and even more than one. Sansa and her knightly dreams love the story about Aemon the Dragonknight and Queen Naerys, your namesake. How he defended his sister’s honour from the smears spread by Aegon the Unworthy. While my brother for example. He always admired Daeron and his conquest of Dorne.”

At which, Dany asked, a bit confused, “Who? Robb?”

“No silly. My bastard brother. Jon,” Arya Stark replied with a light chuckle, surprising her completely with those statements, and in that moment, she remembered that Lord Stark mentioned something on the regard during the journey, but before she could ask more about Jon Snow, the little girl got called by lady Stark. “Do you want to go to the Godswood?”

“Arya Stark! I told you to come!” Lady Stark said, raising her voice and in a more commanding way, and the little girl rolled her eyes, before leaving without another word, angry and cursing under her breath.

Dany smiled, looking down. Maybe it won’t be that bad after all.

Chapter Text

Dany was standing under the wooden terrace, hidden from Lady Stark’s sight, and watching as the Stark children alongside Theon Greyjoy, were practicing with the bows, under Lord Stark’s watchful eyes.

Little Brandon was the one who was practicing now, and every time he missed the target, the older boys laughed at him. Dany smiled, feeling sorry for the little boy, because Bran was trying so hard to hit the target, almost always missing and that expression of exasperation and defeat was making him cute.

Almost a moon passed since her arrival to Winterfell, and the relationship between her and the Stark children developed and improved a lot, in a good way. With some at least.

Brandon was a sweet boy, very kind and very friendly. He told her the stories that Old Nan shared with them when they were children about the White Walkers, or the Kings of Winter, and he even showed her one of his favourite book with the Night’s King painted on one of them, and the moment her eyes lied on it, the dream she made the day her dragons were born, came back. This Night’s King, who, according to the tales, was a Stark and looked a lot like her shadow lover. Brood and tall, with dark curly hairs and blue eyes.

However, after a scold from lady Stark, Bran no longer was talking to her, only giving her small smiles when their path met, or they break their fast. Rickon was on the same level as little Brandon, but more talkative even after the scolds.

But what disappointed Dany the most was the oldest of the Stark daughters. Sansa. Dany hoped that she could have found a friend and a possible sister in her, since they were more or less of similar age, and because a sister she always dreamed to have, but Sansa Stark was of the same settled mind as her mother, calling her in numerous rude ways, despite Dany showed her nothing but kindness.

Whenever Robb or Theon were kind to her, bringing flowers or going with her for walks in the Godswood or through Winterfell, while Sansa and her friends would always laugh at her, saying that they were only doing this to get in her bed. That she was a foolish girl to believe the son of a lord like her father would woo a lowborn for any other reason.

She cried the first time Sansa said such words, but then she no longer cared about them. Dany informed no one about such things, but whenever Robb or Theon tried to clearly woo her, she gave them the cold cheek and walked away for their displeasure.

And in all this time there was still no sight of Jon Snow. Lord Stark reassured her that his son was coming, it was just taking a little more time than expected, but Dany was starting to lose her patience, and so her dragons whose only place of freedom was her rooms, guarded by Ser Jorah, and she was grateful for that. He was the only one that she truly knew and can consider a friend beside Dorhea, who was missing in this moment, hooking with some guard or servant girl.

However, in all this complicated relationship with the Stark, she was glad that Arya was her friend. With her Dany spent most of her time when she wasn’t locked in her room with the dragons because the girl did not care about Lady Stark’s scolds. They visited the Godswood, and they talked more about the old Targaryen kings and Queens. 

The more time she spent with her the more Dany found out that she had more in common with the little girl than with her older sister. A first taste was their first meeting after Robb voiced his thoughts on House Targaryen.

Of course, Arya hated the whole knight in shinning armour with the damsel in distress, while Dany kind of loved it, since she dreamed many times that a knight from Westeros would have saved her from that unwanted marriage to the Khal, or from her abusive brother, however for everything else, they were alike. Arya voiced so many times the hope of seeing the dragons back in this world, and maybe pet one when the day while come, making Dany wonder if she should reveal her children to the wildest of the wolves, but she knew Lord Stark will get angry.

However, what she liked most of their time together was the fact that no matter the topic of their conversation Arya always ended up talking about Jon Snow, her host, since him and the little girl were the closest of the pack, and that was good, because it made her learn more about him. And if Dany can be honest, the more she learns about his character the more she liked the boy, because he didn’t seem to be as snooty as Theon Greyjoy or Robb. He thought Arya how to wield a sword when no one wanted to do it because it wasn’t a proper lady's behaviour, and she thought that this was a quality a brother should have. Always back and protect his little sister.  

Suddenly laughs came, and Dany saw Arya with a bow in hand, and run away after a baw, with Brandon chasing after her, while the older boys were laughing, and in that moment her gaze meet with Robb’s, who was smiling towards her.

Dany did not paid much attention to it, wanting to leave the courtyard and go back to her dragons to feed them, and give Ser Jorah a break, but before she could do it, a raider enter the yard, or rather more raiders were with him, but her eyes stopped upon him. Their leader. He was young, with raven long curls, and a brooding expression. He was very handsome and if she could say far more handsome than the other two boys who tried wooing her, with a certain mystery and darkness around him, but the clothes he was wearing were less lordship.

The moment their eyes met, the boy stopped his horse, and Dany felt a certain sensation as his dark eyes were gazing at her, and heat grow from her core, making Dany run away immediately, before she could even learn who was the stranger, even though she may have a clue on the regard.

“Are you all right, my lord?” he heard Edd ask since he was still sitting on the horse, gazing in the direction where that girl run. By the old gods she was beautiful, and the moment their eyes met for the first time, Jon felt such a jolt run through him and even his heart increased its pace. “My lord?”

“Yes,” Jon replied, climbing down, and tying the horse, started to head towards his brother, only to stop when he saw lady Stark glaring at him while standing next to his father, who was smiling, undoubtedly happy because he accepted the castle, the land, and the title.

"Jon! You are back!” he heard his brother call him, as he was approaching his position.

“Aye. Need to show father something important,” Jon replied, as they clapped their forearm seeing his brother look at his men.

“I see you are not alone.”

“New recruits I borrowed from the Watch, and d brought to Winterfell to get better weapons since I don’t have a Smith at...,” Jon replied as they started walking. Taking a breath, and swallowing, he said, “But I see that my men aren’t the only new people in Winterfell.”

“Aye. She arrived with father a moon ago. She is-“

“Jon! You’re back,” he heard his father laughing voice as he climbed down the wooden stairs. “I suppose you accept the lordship.”

“Lord Stark,” Jon bowed.  “I do. And that’s the reason of why I’m here,” he continued, pulling out the scroll sealed by Lord Commander Mormont.

“What is this?” asked his father, unfolding the scroll, and starting to read,  while Jon replied,  clearing his throat, “It’s a deal I proposed to House Mormont and the Watch, to build a harbour in the west, and maybe a small fleet.”

“A harbour you say?” His father said, folding it back. “Jon. You know I cannot let this happen. The Lords of the North will never agree to such a deal between you three. It would take incomings from White Harbour and will put House Glover in danger.”

“I understand, Lord Stark, but you need to understand my reason too. You ask me to defend the watch and that is what I’m going to do. But I cannot do it with the few men you gave me. If the wall is attacked and I’m forced to hire men from the outside I will need a close harbour.”

“I will have to think about it and inform the Lords in question on the regard,” replied his father, and Jon nodded, hopping that the Lords won’t be against this deal, because if they will, he really didn’t know what he will do. “Come. There is someone I want you to meet.” And the moment those words left his father’s mouth, Jon’s heart started to pound wildly in his chest. Was this the moment that he will meet the girl?

He followed his father, however, when they reached his father’s solar, inside, Jon did not find the girl, but rather a man. An old man, but in a highborn clothes, and a book at his side.

Jon glanced at his father, who said, “This is Tycho Nestoris, an envoy from the Iron Bank of Braavos where I went after you left with Robb to see your lands.” Then turning to the man, his father introduced him.  “This is my son. Jon Snow.”

“A pleasure, my lord,” the man, said, taking his hand and lightly shaking, with a smile.

“The pleasures is mine, my lord-“

“No lord I. Only a simple servant of the Iron Bank of Braavos."

“Braavos? What is happening, lord Stark?” asked Jon turning to his father, still confused by the situation.

“Tycho Nestoris is here to grant you a lone from the Iron Bank, so that you can quicken the construction of the defences and of course develop your settlement,” his father replied, filling three goblets of wine, and giving them two, before heading to his seat. Taking a sip, he continued, sitting down. “I have reassured Tycho of the fact that in time you will be able to repay this loan with the riches your lands have to offer, and the good man is here to inspect these riches.”

Jon turned to the man, seeing him nod, and pulling out the black stone, said, “This is an extract that I intend to use to rebuild the castle, and increase the size of the army. Is it valuable?”

And the man took it from his hand, starting to examine it, while approaching the window. Jon glanced at his father, who beckoned him to sit down, and after a few moments of silence, Jon heard the man say, “A very fine item you have here, Lord Jon, but not as valuable as you think. I hope you have much more valuable goods than these to repay the Iron Bank should we grant you the loan.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Dragonglass. In the past used by the Dragonlords to adorn their weapons, their armours, their crown. Dragonstone is full of this to my knowledge and never before had been used for trading,” the men replied, handing him the stone.

“Thank you, Tycho Nestoris. I will inform you what we have decided. Until then, enjoy our hospitality,” his father said, and the man bowed, leaving the solar, and once alone, Jon heard his father ask. “Where did you find it?”

“You mean that you were aware of the hotspring cave under the castle?”

“Hot spring? When I visited your lands, I did not find a hot spring,” his father replied.

“It is under the castle,” Jon replied, while his father started to think. “Now I will go too, father. Was a long journey and need something to mull.”

“Yes. Go. We will talk later,” his father said, as Jon gets up, leaving his father’s solar and heading for his old rooms if they still belonged to him of course since maybe Lady Stark accommodate someone else in there.

Dany was sitting at one of the common tables alone this time, since lady Stark was sitting at the main one, with part of her children, and Dany wasn’t in the mood to assist to another antic of her, after the one she endured from the past month, however, despite that, she could feel the woman’s glare on her, and Dany was starting to find it so ridiculous all this situation.  No matter what her words were, the woman was steady on her mind that she was here to steal her place. That she was pregnant of Lord Stark after seducing him in Pentos, despite she assured the woman that it wasn’t how she thought.

“Don’t pay attention to her. The trout barks, but doesn’t bite,” Daenerys heard someone, and looking up, she saw the boy that arrived in the marrow, standing there. “May I?” He asked pointing to the opposite seat of her and she nodded, as the servants brought the meal to him, and hearing a chair fall to the ground. Glancing at the great table, she saw Lady Stark storm out the Hall, dragging bran and Arya by the hand, while followed right behind by Sansa, and Rickon.

“I could say that with time it will fade, but I would lie as you saw my effect on her,” he said, filling his goblet with ale.

“Effect? Why? Who are you?” Dany asked, turning to him and playing the dumb.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot my manners. Jon Snow is my name,” the boy introduced himself, getting up and bowing, confirming her suspicion. “Lord Stark’s bastard I am.”

“Naerys Storm,” she introduced herself, swallowing, and receiving a surprised expression by the boy who arched his eyebrow. So he was the boy with whom she will live?

“A pleasure, my lady,” he smiled at her for the first time, and she must say that it suited him far more than a brooding expression. “May I ask from where you come, Lady Naerys? Judging by your look and your name you are not a northern lady.”

“No. In fact, I come from Essos. Pentos to be more precise. And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

“And I’m not a lord.”

“I heard it differently,” Dany retorted, making him chuckle, and that made her too, before glancing down, feeling her cheek getting warm. It wasn’t good. She was blushing after a mere chuckle. What will happen when they live in the same castle and awkward situations arise? Or if he was to woo her like the other too? Will she burn like the fire?

“What are you doing so far from home, my lady, and in a land colder than Essos?”

“Lord Stark saved me from thieves. Me and my brother, we got robbed on the streets and he died protecting me. Lord Stark and his men saved me in time and since then I was with him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, my lady. I’m glad that he saved you. Thought I expect nothing else from him,” Jon Snow said, and she smiled, while their eyes met again as the boy was playing with the food, giving her the chance to take a better look at him. However the moment was broken by laughs coming from behind and turning, Dany saw a few boys sitting at the table. “Grenn. Behave yourself.”

“Sorry, Jon,” the red haired one replied, and Dany heard Jon say, “I’m sorry for my men’s behaviour. They are good lads but lack discipline. They are almost all lowborn except Edd.”

“Where did you meet them?”

“At the Wall, when I went to present Lord Commander Mormont a deal.”

Mormont. He was Ser Jorah’s father if she remembers well the stories Lord Stark told her about the Wall. Taking a sip of water she asked, “So you visited the Wall? How was it?”

“I did my lady. Beautiful sight to behold till the end of our days and hope that you will be able to see it one day as long as it will be up there.”

“Why you say that?”

“Because of rumours I heard from the watch,” Jon Snow replied, with a lost gaze on the table, and holding the cup.

“About?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he retorted, shaking his head, and taking a sip. “You will think I lost my wits.”

But she will have none of his dismissals. “Tell me.”

“Winds of war and men rising from the death beyond the Wall. Shadow walking through the windstorm. Rumour of Wight Walker waking up from their ancient sleep,” the boy replied, confusing her for a moment, since to everyone’s knowledge, they were gone. “You think I’m a madman and you are right. Neither I believe such things.”

“I don’t think you are a madman,” she reassured him, not believing these rumors to be untrue, especially considering what was hidden inside her chambers, and saw the boy look up from his plate and towards her with his dark eyes, and Dany found herself lost in them again, before glancing down saying, “If you visited the Wall, I suppose you met their Maester.”

“Yes. Aemon. In my opinion, one of the wises man I met,” Jon replied, then that made her heart rejoice. It seems at least one of her kin is good, but before she could continue, they were interrupted by Robb, who approaching, said, “Jon. Father wants us to come with him. A deserter from the Night’s Watch has been caught a few miles away from her.” And glancing between them, he added with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw, “Unless you have something else to do.”

She did not look at the heir of Winterfell, instead looked at Jon who in the meantime looked between them, confused, before saying, “Nothing. I’m coming.” And finishing his cup, he added, “Lady Naerys. It was a pleasure to meet you. “

“Can I join you, lord Robb?”

“An execution bulk isn’t a place for girls,” he retorted, with coldness, before leaving, while Jon gave her a warm pity smile, before heading to his men, while Dany sighed, getting up.  She hoped that Robb won’t mistreat Jon because of her.  She didn’t want to be the reason of a rife between the brothers knowing how close they were.

It took them a few hours to reach the place where the deserter was held prisoner till lord Stark’s arrival. For all the ride, his brother kept sulking and Jon knew he was the reason for his sudden change of mood. He should not have talked to the girl. But how could he know she was Robb’s? After the execution, he will have to talk with his brother and reassure him that nothing happened, and that it wasn’t his intention to offend him.

Once down from the horses, they approached the executioner bulk and waited for the deserter to be brought, while Theon handed Ice to the Lord of Winterfell, but when Jon recognized who was the deserter, he immediately approached his father, saying, “Mercy, my lord. He is but a boy.”

“He swore an oath, Jon,” his father replied, unsheathing the great sword. “The law is the law.”

Jon nodded, sighing, lowering his head, and taking a step back,  returning to the spot where Bran was, as Will was brought before the Lord Stark, made knelt before the stump while his father, said, “In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name-King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm...” he stopped to take a breath, and Jon glancing at Bran, said, “Don’t look away. Father will know if you do.”

“...I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die. Any last word?” the Lord of Winterfell asked the prisoner, once he finished with the protocol.

“I know I broke my oath. And I know I’m a deserter. I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them,” will said, stammering, and looking down. “But I saw what I saw. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know.” Stopping Will looked up at his father and continued. “If you can get word to my family, tell them I’m no coward. Tell them I’m sorry.”

The Warden of the North nodded, lifting Ice high above his head and bringing it down. Blood sprays the swaying grass. Will’s head toppled off the stump, bounces off a root, and rolled, only to be stopped by Theon’s who kicked it away immediately after, laughing.

Jon felt disgust by what Greyjoy did, but said nothing because there was nothing he could say. However, it was someone else he needed to offer comfort in words, and gripping Bran’s shoulder, said “You did well, little brother.” Before heading back to his horse.

On the way back, Jon borough his horse near his brother’s and as they were raiding at a walking pace, he said, “I’m sorry if what I did before bothered you, Robb. I didn’t know she was yours.” But his brother did not reply, squeezing the grip on his reins. “Robb-“

“What in the Seven Hells is that,” his brother said, stopping the horse, and Jon looked forward, seeing something laying on the ground, and so he immediately climbed down, pulling out his sword, and holding the horse by the reins, said, approaching, “It seems it’s a beast. It may be a wolf.”

“Alive or dead?”

“Dead,” replied Jon, however hearing a whine coming from a few steps from there, and he immediately run that way.

“Jon! What do you see?”

“Pups,” he replied, bending down, and immediately was joined by Lord Stark and a few more. “Direwolves pups. And there are five of them.”

Bran came too, and picked up one of the pups, while Lord Stark said, “Better a quick death, Lord Stark,” Theon said, grabbing the pup from Bran’s arms.

“No!”

“Put your dagger down, Greyjoy,” growled Robb. “We will keep them.”

“I take orders from your father, not you,” Greyjoy replied with arrogance, squeezing the pup, and everyone turned to Lord Stark.

“It will be a mercy, Bran. Without their mother, the pup won’t last long.”

His little brother looked down, with sadness, trying to keep his tears and not burst before Lord Stark, and Jon, wanting to make him happy, said, “There are five pups in her, Lord Stark. Three male, two female. You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is in the sigil of your House.”

Everyone looked at the Lord of Winterfell, waiting for his decision, who, after a few moment of hesitation nodded, but as he was leaving, his father said, “You will feed them yourselves. You will train them yourselves. And if they died, which is most likely, you will bury them yourselves.”

“They won’t die. We won’t let them die,” replied Robb, with determination, and Lord stark left as they picked up the pups, and Jon heard Bran ask, “And you Jon?”

“I’m not a Stark?” was all he said, as they were leaving, however, another distant whimpering stopped him, and following the path back, Jon spotted something white ling near the river. When he finally came face to face, Jon saw it was a pup. A white pup like snow, and when he picked him u, Jon saw his red eyes look back at him.

All the afternoon she spent in her room, alone and shielded from the sight of the world, not wanting to make more than she already had done between the two brothers or between lord and lady Stark. Part of her wanted to leave this place and go back to the Free cities, to live the rest of her life with her children and maybe one day, avenge her house if it will be possible. But her other half was holding her here. Especially after meeting him. Jon. She really couldn’t get him out of her head. He had had such an impact on her despite it was only a small conversation between them at the table. And if Lord Stark will still want to send her to live with him, she had great hope for their future and a pleasant living together.

Turning on her back and looking up, Dany thought back about her shadow lover and how much he resembled Jon Snow, now that she saw him, not to mention his resemblance to the Night’s King.  Both young and brood, not very tall, and with a comely look. Hairs long and curly, with eyes, dark as the Valyrian steel. The only difference laid in the blue eyes. His did not shift.

Her mind dared to go beyond that and wonder how he may look under what he was wearing. How would he feel. Cold or warm, and without realising she felt her hands drift between her legs, finding her moisture folds.

However insistent knocking at the door broke the moment and Dany shoot up.

 “Yes?”

“Naerys? Are you in there? Open the door,” she heard Arya from the other side, Dany cursed under her breath, starting to put quickly the dragons back, who were whinging in complaint. “Naerys.  What is happening? Open the door!”

“I’m coming,” she said, putting Viserion in, before covering the cage, and quickly fixing her dress, before opening the door. Peeking outside.  “Yes?”

“What were you doing?”

“Ahem...resting. I was resting.”

“You weren’t resting,” Arya said, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows. “I heard the whines. What were you doing?”

“Why are you here, Arya?” she asked, sighing and changing the topic.

“The boys are back. And they found something. Robb wants you there,” Arya replied, trying to peek inside, with a suspicious look.  “Why are you red?”

“I’m not red,” Dany retorted, glancing down, trying to hide the blush.

“You are red like red like a pepper,” Arya chuckled.

“Arya. Enough. Now go. I will come soon. Needs only to change my clothes,” Dany said, closing the door before the little girl could press more. It was rude from her part, but it was necessary. Sighing, Dany leaned against the door, wondering why he summoned her before moving towards the wardrobe to change of clothes, and clean herself, because what happened was…inappropriate.

Once ready, Dany left her room after locking the door only to find Ser Jorah on the way, approaching, greeted her. “My lady. I will have to be away for two months or so to the Wall, but don't worry. I will be back.”

She nodded, realising the reason, “Have a safe trip, Ser,” before leaving him there.

Upon entering, Dany heard laughs and saw the Stark children sitting at the table with what looked to be pups on it. However, she noticed that a Stark was missing. Jon.

“Naerys! Come,” she heard Robb call her, as he picked one of the pups. His fur was the colour of smoke grey and she could spot yellow eyes as they open and close. He was cute but not her favourite colour. As she ran her finger through his thick, soft fur, Robb said, “I named him Grey Wind. Do you like him, Naerys?”

She nodded, as Arya came with hers. “Mine is Nymeria.” Before leaning, “Sansa’s is Lady. Can you imagine?”

“Mine is Shaggydog,” little Rickon replied from the floor while playing with a black restless pup. “he is wile and playful as I am!” the little boy said with proudness, making Dany giggle, however she saw that Bran did not speak, sitting on the floor but away from the pack.

And so, approaching him, Dany bend down, “And your, Brandon?”

“Summer.”

“A fitting name I would say,” she said, caressing silvery grey pup under the chin. “How did you find them?”

“Jon did. Their mother died and he convinced father to let us keep them,” Bran replied, making Dany smile. Getting up, Dany returned to the table, where Arya and Robb were left and asked looking around dumbly, “And where is he?”

And that was enough to change the boy’s mood, upsetting him even. The smile faded away, and the heir of Winterfell mumbled, scratching the wolf’s head, “At the Smoking log in winter town. He got quite shaken by what happened and preferred to stay there. His men joined him too, but I’m sure your touch will ease him.”

Dany, ignoring his words, moving away leaving the hall, hearing Arya call after her. “Naerys.  Where are you going?” but she ignored the little girl, going in search of someone that could take her there.  

On her way, Dany found the Capitan of Lord Stark’s guard, and immediately stopped him.

“Jory. May I have a word?” she asked, and the man nodded. “Can you take me to the Smoking Log?”

“It’s outside the walls, prin-my lady. But Lord Stark forbid you to venture outside.”

Dany was taken aback by his words and tilting her head, she asked, with coldness, and trying to keep her anger at bay, “Am I a prisoner, Ser?”

“No. But you are safer behind those walls,” the man replied, trying to leave, but Dany stopped him, saying, “If I’m not a prisoner then I will go outside, and find this Smoking log on my own. If you don’t want to accompany me then go inform Lord Stark about this.”

“I will do so, my lady,” the man said, making her furious, as he bowed and left, while she left the keep to go in search of the Smoking Log.

Robb saw her storm out of the great Hall and sighed. She was going to the inn for sure, to see Jon. He saw how she was looking at his brother at the table hours before, and he felt such a jealousy and envy. Never once in the past moon, she has looked at him in the way she did with him, no matter what Robb did.  No matter how much kind he was with her, and wooed her, Naerys never looked at him like she looked at Jon.

“It seems you have a rival, Stark. The White Wolf is hungry. He is lusting after your woman.”

“She is not mine.”

“I was only playing with her and playing with you, since she is far too young for my taste and not enough shaped. But for Snow. He seemed quite taken with her at the table,” Greyjoy continued, and Robb gave him a deadly look to end the argument, but Theon didn’t, as he moved to the other side. “Now, at the inn I can imagine what they are going to do. Alone, and uncaring of those who are here. There she can scream loudly while he fucks her. Again, and again and again, till the morning lights of tomorrow will come. And the day after, and the day after.”

But Robb had enough, and with Grey Wind under his arm, he left the hall to head in the search of the girl and confess his feeling hopping it wasn’t too late, and she already at the inn.

Since they returned, Jon did not say a word about what happened to the deserter, but his men realised on their own. He drank a few cups of ale, and he could feel his head starting to get heavy.

His direwolf was laying on the floor, full too after a few bowls of milk. 

“Jon! Look who is here,” he heard Grenn say, nodding to the door, and glancing behind, he saw the girl, Naerys, standing there, looking around the hall, as if she was searching for someone, until her eyes stopped upon him, smiling, but when she started to head towards him, her path was blocked by a drunken, tall and study northman, who grabbed her arms and laughingly said, “C’mere pretty girl. Let me taste you,” and trying to kiss Naerys.

Jon in the glimpse of an eye was up to his feet, and rushed in the girl’s help, pushing the man away, “If you don’t want to end with a black eye and broken bones, friend, then go somewhere else where to stick your tongue.”

“You mother fucker,” cursed the man trying to strike a punch, that Jon managed to doge easily, and then another and another. He was so drunk, that Jon did not need to put much of an effort to dodge them, until the owner came to stop them saying, “Hey, hey, hey. If you wanna fight, then go somewhere else.”

“I don’t,” Jon replied, rising his hands, and the owner looked at his opponent, who mumbled something before leaving. Then turning to Naerys, Jon said, “You should not be here alone, my lady. Why are you here?”

“We did not have the chance to finish our conversation about the wall and I wanted to do it after your journey, but when your siblings returned with the wolf pups, you weren’t with them. Robb informed me that you stopped here because you need some time to think. That you were quite shaken by what happened with the deserter...” she stopped to inhale and exhale, “I wanted to come and see how you were.”

“Why? You don’t even know me,” he said, releasing a sigh, to which, clapping her hands before her belly, Naerys mumbled to his surprise, “Maybe I want to know you.”

Jon sighed again, and with hands on the hips started, “My lady, if Robb-“

“I don’t care what Robb Stark thinks or want, Lord Snow. I care of what I want and right now I want to know more about the Wall,” replied Dany, before looking down, mumbling, “...and about you. “

“Tomorrow, my lady. Now is best if I take you back to Winterfell before it is too late,” Jon replied, trying to not pay the disappointment on her face, and do, sighing, added, “All right. We can delay the return for a few moments, and talk about the Wall, if that is what you want, my lady.”

And the smile she gave him warmed his heart, as he led her to the table where he was sitting with his men. The moment she saw his direwolf, Naerys asked looking at him with that same simile full of joy, “Is that your wolf?”

“Yes.  Ghost,” Jon replied, as the white direwolf looked up at her, with his wide puppy eyes. “I found him far from the herd, camouflaged in the snow. But unlike the others, already with his blood-red eyes open. Theon says he will die faster than the others.”

“I don’t think he will,” Naerys replied, scratching the direwolf behind the ears, who pushed his little head more in her touch, making the girl giggle. A beautiful sound for his ears.

“He likes you,” Jon said, chuckling at the act his small direwolf was doing by laying on his back, waiting for Naerys to scratch his, belly.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“From where you come?” asked Pyp.

“Essos. I lived in the Free Cities with my brother,” the girl replied, stopping from playing with Ghost and becoming immediately serious and sad, so Jon threw a look to Pyp to close his mouth, and his men immediately moved to another table. 

“I’m sorry if his words brought back old memories that you would rather forget.”

“No. He did nothing wrong. It’s just...I don’t know how to explain.”

“You don’t have to,” he replied placing one hand on hers to reassure the girl, who looked up at smiling, and Jon found himself again lost in her amethyst eyes.  But immediately broke away, because it was wrong what he was doing. She belonged to his brother, and he cannot do that to Robb.

“What happened at the executioner bulk?” the girl asked, resuming to play with Ghost.

“Nothing.”

“Robb said that it shook you a lot.”

“Indeed, it had. But mainly because I knew the lad even though I met him only once, but he wasn’t a coward or a liar.”

“What did he say?”

“That he saw the white Walkers,” replied Jon filling his cup with ale again, but before he could even take a sip, the girl took it from his hand, drinking. 

“And you believe him?”

“You know, it’s not proper for a lady to do this and even drinking ale in an inn, in the company of a bastard.”

“Then it’s good that I’m not a lady,” retorted the girl with a smirk, making Jon chuckle, before adding as she returned her attention to the pup. “And I’m not in the company of a simple bastard but of Lord Stark’s bastard.”

Jon found himself at loss of words after this outcome of her, stunned by her bluntness, and after filling the cup again, and pushing it towards him, said, “Now tell me something about you, Jon Snow.”

Well.  If you are not a lady, and you want to know my story, we will need another cup and more ale,” Jon replied, smiling and beckoning to the innkeeper to come. He only hoped that the girl won’t get too drunk otherwise he will be in trouble.

Chapter Text

Dany stirred in bed, feeling her head aching and dazing, woken up by her dragons’ winnings.

For a moment, she did not remember why she was feeling this way, until, as she rose up, Dany noticed that she was wearing the same clothes as she wore the previous day, when she met Jon Snow and her hairs were still the same way she finally remembered what happened, however a sudden nausea, made her jump down from the bed and run to the chamber pot, throwing in it.

She coughed a few times, spitting before searching for something to clean herself, and after having done so, Dany laid on the floor, knees up, closed eyes and hand resting on her belly. She should not have drunk so much at the inn with Jon because she wasn’t accustomed with the ale, or with alcoholic drinks in general. Dany only hoped that she did not make herself a fool in front of his eyes otherwise living together will be very difficult.

“You are awake!” she heard someone state, and Dany immediately shot to her feet, only to feel the dizziness. “Easy, princess,” Dorhea said, coming to her side. “I was hoping that you would have been still asleep on my return.”

“So, you know what happened the previous day?” asked Dany, playing the dumb, because she remembered perfectly what happened, or she thought she remembered, as the girl helped her to the bed.

“I do. We are sharing the room after all, and when I saw Jon Snow caring you here, I immediately followed him,” the girl replied, moving away, and starting to fill a cup with something.

“What is that?”

“Something that will make you feel better,” Dorhea said, smiling, while Dany, resting the forearm on her forehead, said, “You mentioned that Jon Snow was carrying me here. How was he?” and feeling the rate of her heartbeats increase.

“Gentle. Carrying. Good. A proper knight I would say, like those from Lady Sansa’s books,” the girl replied, placing the cup on the stool next to her bed where the candles were, and then laying on the bed next to her.  “I expected that he would have behaved like any man when drunk, since he too was as much as you. Getting advantage of the girl. Forcing himself on her. But he didn’t.”

Of course he didn’t, Dany wanted to say.  Jon Snow wasn’t like the other men around. He was different from all the men and boys she met till now. Dany now understood what a bad opinion she had made about him before meeting him because of his bastard status, and the Blackfyre history. However, the fear of having disappointed him was taking over her mind.

“I could almost fall for someone like him,” Dorhea said, and Dany immediately turned to her.

“Why almost?”

“Because as much as he is gentle, carrying, and good-hearted, he would be a disappointment in bed. Those kinds of men have no passion, no fire inside them. And he would not last long. Theon-“

“You have been with Theon Greyjoy!” Laughed Dany, raising up and looking at the girl.

“Maybe,” she retorted, smirking and getting up, she admitted. “He is a very good lover.”

“But a bad man.”

“Why you say that? Because he isn’t gentle and carrying like your Lord Snow? Because he cares only about his own pleasure? At least he has a big cock, while I doubt your wolf has.”

“Lord Snow is not mine,” Dany blurted getting up, ignoring Dorhea’s comment about Greyjoy’s…toy. “And you are overstepping, Dorhea.  Remember your place and who you are.”

“Of course, princess.  Forgive me.”

“Leave,” Dany said in a commanding way, and the girl left, while Dany, sighed, crawling higher on the bed and curling in a ball. She will have to apologize to Jon for how she behaved the previews day.

Jon was standing before the Lord his father, with a bowed head and hands behind his back ashamed of what happened. Of course, the version that came to Lord Stark was another one, but Jon did not tell him his because to what purpose? Theon and Robb saw them. He will believe their words.

“I’m sorry father. It wasn’t supposed to happen, and it will never happen again. I swear.”

“Good. But no more riding to the inn with her or ale more than what is given at the table,” his father said, and Jon only nodded. “But may I ask why she was there, and especially why she went there alone?”

“I stopped at the inn...to think. After what happened...I need time alone,” Jon replied, stammering. “But she wanted to talk with me. Finish the conversation we started at dinner in the Great Hall when we met the first time...I was about to take her back to Winterfell, my lord, but she insisted. I’m sorry.”

“What she wanted to talk about?” his father asked.

“The Wall. Maester Aemon. Why I like Daeron and other things like this,” Jon replied, but leaving out some of the incoherent words he heard from her when she was in that condition. Of being a lost princess. Of feeling guilty for her brother’s death. Of having dragons. Of course, all words without sense.

“You may go.”

“Lord Stark. It wasn’t her fault. It was me who asked for more ale despite being already in deep cups. I hope she won’t face your wrath because she has done nothing wrong.”

“She won’t. But you behave yourself properly from now on,” his father said, and Jon nodded, bowing and leaving.

He needed to clear his mind, and have some time alone after this, so he headed to the stables where his horse was to take her for a ride. The moment he stepped in, Winterstorm turned his head towards him.

“Good day, Hullen.”

“Jon. I see you are treating well the girl.”

“Thanks to your teachings and Harwin's help,” replied Jon, smiling, as he run a hand over the horse's smooth brown mane.

“How is he?”

“Well. But of course, he misses Winterfell, and Arya’s annoying behaviour,” replied Jon earning the man's chuckle.

“Just like her aunt,” pointed Hullen, with a longing look, however, before Jon could ask something about his aunt, a clearing throat interrupted them, and turning, Jon saw Naerys standing at the entrance, and his heart immediately started pounding in his chest.

“My lady,” they both greeted her, bowing, while he tried to calm himself, failing though.

“May I have a moment with Lord Snow, Hullen?”

“Of course. I need to return to my mansions anyway,” replied Hullen, moving away, leaving the only two of them there, and Jon did know what to do.

They stayed in silence for a long time, avoiding each other’s gaze, or at least he was doing, as he was looking on the ground with hands behind his back. He didn’t want for her to get in trouble because of him again.

“I want to apologize for the previous day,” they said at the same time, looking at each other for a moment before bursting in a laugh that echoed through the stables, while Winterstorm looked at them undoubtedly thinking that they lost their wits.

However, after this small outburst, it was Naerys who spoke first, becoming serious and taking a step forward.  “I’m not usually like that, Jon...and I’m sorry if I’ve done something...bad...I...”

She was clearly struggling to find her words, so taking a step closer, he said, reassuring her, “You did nothing wrong, my lady. Nothing happened inappropriately happened and we both know that I’m the one at fault here. I asked for more ale despite already having had many cups before your arrival.”

“But it wasn’t you to force me to drink them.”

“It doesn't matter. There is no excuse for my behavior, however, I need to warn you. If you wish to continue living in Winterfell peacefully, it is best that you stay away from me, because that won't be in your favor."

"Maybe I don't want to stay in Winterfell," Naerys replied, stunning him, and never taking her eyes off him, while smiling. It was so difficult to be near her without falling for her beauty, her smile that warms the hearts, or those beautiful amethyst eyes. “So, this is your hours, my Lord?” she asked, approaching Winterstorm.

“Aye. Her name is Winterstorm,” Jon replied, approaching the horse, “It was my aunt Lyanna’s horse. She was gifted to her as a foal, by her father, Rickard Stark on her thirteen nameday.” But since she was in silence, Jon glanced at her, seeing Naerys look down with sadness, and that made him guilty. As always he open his mouth and hurt people. Swallowing, Jon said, “Forgive me, my lady, if I said anything to offend you.”

“You didn’t. It's just... I've never had a horse. My brother and I didn't have the means to buy one,” she replied, sighing, placing one hand on the horse's side, caressing her. “When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of having one, with a mane white as snow,” the girl continued, smiling, caressing Winter’s mane and their hands touched.

She rose her eyes to meet his, and they gazed at each other for a moment. Naerys was breathing heavily, and so was he, before Jon pulled away, saying, “Would you like to ride?”

“Yes. Very much, but sadly I don’t know how, and I’m a bit afraid to fall.”

“I will hold you,” Jon said immediately, to reassure the girl before he realized the implication, and immediately added, stammering, “I didn’t mean...I mean...I...”

“Don’t worry, Jon. I understand,” she smiled, before returning her attention to the horse. “But I can’t go this way. I need breeches, and maybe a tunic if possible.”

“Come. I will find you some,” Jon said, nodding to follow him, and he led her to his old chambers where some clothes, that he did not have the chance to take were left.

When they reach it, Jon immediately started to rummage through his old wardrobe and the chest at the foot of the bed, finding a pair of old breeches that old breeches, a tunic, and an undershirt, before turning to her, seeing Naerys her look around, with intertwined fingers, and curiosity.

“These are your rooms?”

“Yes,” he replied, approaching. “Here. I’m sorry, but they aren’t in a good state.”

“They will serve well,” she reassured him, never stopping to smile.

“I will wait outside and let you change,” he said, leaving the room, and releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Leaning against the wall, Jon crossed his arms and started to think about this situation, while looking down. He felt so torn right now. His head was advising him to stay away from the girl, to not betray Robb, because his brother had feelings for her, but his heart was pushing him towards her.

“I’m ready,” he heard the girl say, as she opened the door, and he found himself lost as he gazed at her.  Even in those common man clothes, she looked beautiful.

“You look-“

“Horrible. I know.”

“Beautiful,” he finished the words that were hanging on his tongue, and Naerys looked up, blushing though. His eyes glanced between her own and the plump lips that he would love to taste, to kiss, and feeling his own cheek getting warm. So, clearing his throat, he said, “It’s better if we go now before the weather changes as it’s very unpredictable sometimes.”

She nodded as they left the keep, heading towards the stables, to get Winterstorm ready for the ride.

Once there, Jon tied the sword to the spot where usually it was his place when not riding in battle, as one never knew when an enemy attacks, and then leaning towards Winterstorm, he whispered, “Don’t disappoint me, girl,” receiving a playful header from the horse. Turning to Naerys, Jon said, “All right, my lady. Whenever you are ready.”

“You know, Jon. I'm starting to get annoyed with all this lady ting. Lady up lady, down, lady left, lady right. I told you before, and I’m telling you now. Stop it!”

“I’m sorry. But I can do nothing on that regard. It comes out on its own, my la-Naerys.”

“Then don’t let it come out,” she retorted, and he nodded, not wanting to fight with her as she approached.

“Hold against her back and help yourself by it when I will push up,” Jon said, and Naerys nodded, as he, with a swiftly move, pushed her up onto the horse. “When you are alone, you will put your feet in the stirrups, but today, that’s where my feet will go.”

“You will ride with me?”

“Aye,” Jon replied, turning the horse and leading him out. “Watch your head.” And she lowered herself before he stopped Winter outside. He looked around to see if his brother or Lord Stark were there, but fortunately, they weren’t and as he climbed behind her, Jon hear Naerys ask, “Wouldn’t it be too heavy for her? Two riders. I don’t want for Winterstorm to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t. We will ride slowly,” he said. “And you aren’t the only one who I take for a ride on winter.”

“I didn’t know Jon Snow was so surrounded by girls,” he heard her retort, chuckling, and with a smirk.

“I’m not. It was only Arya,” he said, securing her between his arms, and urging the horse to move.

“Oh!”

They rode north for a few miles before turning west into the Wolfswood, where they spent most of the hours, leaving Naerys to take charge of the ride, but of course, ready to intervene whenever she needed, though, if he can be honest, she was born a rider. For all the ride, he tried his best to not hold

Throughout the whole ride, Jon tried not to hold on to her waist, because it wasn't proper, and he didn't want to make her too uncomfortable, but it was quite difficult to not do it because he had to hold on to something. Suddenly he heard her say something in a tongue that he could not understand while trying to stop the horse by the reins.

“What is it Naerys?”

“Nothing, it’s just that...I need a break down from the horse,” she replied, and Jon nodded, helping her stop the horse, by placing his hands on hers. It was enough for her to turn towards him and gaze in his eyes. Her hot breath could be felt on his and for a moment, Jon thought she was leaning to kiss her, but he was sure that it was only a trick of his mind. He climbed down, and lead Winterstorm to a tree, tying her, before helping Naerys down too, who fell against his chest, as she loose balance.

“I got you,” he said, securing her in his arms again, and like every time when she was near him, the same feeling came to him, that he tried so hard to suppress it.

“I still need to get used to long journey,” she said, giggling, to break the silence, as she sat down under the tree.

A light chilling breeze rose up, floating her silver-golden hairs into the air while making the leaves on the branches rustle, and some fall on her head. She laughed, brushing it away, as she pulled up her knees, and at seeing her body trembling, he immediately bent down, concerned. “Are you cold?”

“No. Just a little jolting,” she said as they fell in silence, again, as he got up and approached the hill, to gaze down at the stream. “We aren’t together if that’s what you were wondering.”

“What, my lady?” he asked, confused, looking towards her.

“Robb and me. There is nothing between us.”

“Never said you were a thing.”

“You did. The other day at the inn. You thought I belonged to him, but I don’t. I belong to no one Jon Snow.  I’m a free woman, and free to choose to stay with whoever I want,” she said, looking up at him, and Jon only nodded, confused of why she was telling him this. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“I believe you. I only don’t understand why you are telling me this.”

“Because I want us to be friends and don’t want you to hold back at a distance, or treat me differently, because you think I am with your brother.”

Jon nodded again, before turning to the stream, and picking a stone from the ground, he said, throwing it away, “He is a good man, Naerys. A kind man. A good brother, and good husband one day.”

“He is, indeed, but not my type of man,” se retorted, and he glanced at her, with a raised eyebrow, intrigued by these statements.

“And what is the kind of men you like.”

“Do you really want to start to talk about that, Jon Snow?”

“No,” he mumbled, ‘or yes,’ he wanted to add, but held his tongue at bay. Wanting to change the topic, Jon approached Naerys and sitting on his knee, asked, “What were the words you said to Winterstorm when you tried to stop her. They did not seem to be in the common tongue.”

“They weren’t. In fact, they were in High Valyrian or bastard Valyrian.”

“You know the High Valyrian?” asked Jon surprised, despite knowing he should, since she came from Essos, and the girl nodded.

“My brother thought me. In the Free Cities, if you don’t know the Valyrian tongue you are pretty much lost or ignored by the rich merchant.”

“I see. Well, can you teach me?”

“Teach you?” Naerys asked, chuckling, and sounding surprised too. “Why would you want to learn high Valyrian?”

“So that when I will meet a princess of Valyrian blood I will be able to talk with her in the Valyrian tongue,” he replied, smiling since he was joking.

“Princesses don’t look upon bastard,” she mumbled, with seriousness, and looking away, at which Jon, blurted, “I know! They look at knights and son of the lords from great houses,” before getting up. “The sun is setting off.  It’s time to return back to Winterfell before Lord Stark gets angry.”

“What? But we still have a few hours before that happens.”

“Winterstorm is tired. We have been off for hours,” he said, without looking at her.

“Are you mad?”

“No. I’m not mad,” he retorted, feeling how his breath heaved and squeezing his fist.

“Jon. I’m sorry if my words hurt you,” he heard Naerys say, but he kept ignoring her as he brought the horse closer. He didn’t know why he got pissed at her, considering she said the hard truth, but still, it stirred something inside him, something usually he had always superseded, but that with her he left unveiled. It was the same hard truth that Robb always rub in his face, even though that it wasn’t with malice. That he will never be Lord of Winterfell. Helping her up, Jon climbed behind her, and grabbing the reins, turned his horse in the direction of Winterfell, but this time faster than usual.

For the past hours, he spent it training in the courtyard, with some guards, the wooden dummy, and then came Theon’s turn, whipping the yard’s ground with his ass. He needed to release all the reprimed anger he was feeling since the preview’s day, when he saw her with Jon laughing and drinking at the inn, where he followed her, concerned for her wellbeing.  But she found her knight in shining armour in his brother. And then, the peak came when he saw them return deep at the hour of the Wolf on his horse, and once down, carrying her to the rooms in his arms, while she was laying her head on Jon’s chest and arms wrapped around his neck...Robb shook his head, not wanting to think further on that. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t envy his brother’s happiness, since he was happy with her at the table in the Great Hall and at the inn, but he was.

“Enough for today, Robb,” he heard the master at arms say, but Robb did not stop, continuing to hit Theon’s shield who was laying on the ground, accepting the blows. “I said enough!” Rodrick shouted, grabbing his arm, and stopping the sword before it could reach Theon’s shield again. “You are not with your head here, Robb. Enough for today before someone gets hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Rodrick,” Robb apologized to the master at arms, panting.  “You are right.  I’m not in my mind,” he continued taking a deep breath and helping Theon up.

“Always remember, lads. If a warrior's mind is elsewhere during a fight, then that warrior is a dead man. One distraction, and you are no longer part of this world.”

They both nodded, and once Rodrick left, Robb heard Theon ask, “What got in you?” but he did not reply, moving to the table, to fill himself a cup of water. “Ahhh...I know what got in you. The girl got in you, hmm?” Greyjoy said, approaching.

Robb sighed, nodding.  “I can’t stop thinking of her, Theon. When I sleep, I dream of her. I try to imagine how she looks under the clothes or what it would feel to kiss her to hold her to hug her, to be inside her. What do you think I should do?"

“I already told you what you should do. Bed her. Have your way with her. She won’t refuse the cock of the heir of Winterfell,” said Theon with that annoying smug on his face, “And if a bastard is born then better. Winterfell is lacking its bastard anyway.”

“Enough with this thinking, Theon. She is not a whore to use and the throw. She is a girl with feelings and dignity.”

“Who has ever said to toss her aside. You can keep her as a paramour while having a wife. You are not the first and won’t be the last to have one.”

“That’s not honourable. Father-“

“Your father is the last one who can voice on the matter, Robb. And the proof is right out there, with your girl,” Theon said, pointing the finger to the gates, and in that moment, Robb saw Jon and Naerys return, the same way they left, a couple of hours before. “Told you. They fucked in the woods like rabbits. Have you ever seen rabbits fuck?”

Robb ignored him, seeing the girl jump down, almost falling, and he immediately ran to her, “My lady, are you well?”

But she ignored him, pushing Robb aside, heading straight towards the new keep like a storm, and feeling, anger arise, Robb turned to his brother, growling, “What did you do to her, Jon?”

However, Jon did not reply, ignoring him, and, heading for the stables. Robb, not wanting to let it go, followed him right behind, and shouted, “If you hurt her, you don’t deserve her love!”

And Jon did not reply again, freeing Winterstorm of the saddle, and Robb, grabbing his brother by the shoulder, turned him, and between clenched teeth, said, “Why are you still here? Father denied you the scroll. You have your direwolf. Why don’t you go back to that shit hole of your castle?”

“I will, don’t worry. I will do it in the marrow because I’m tired of this shit hole of a place,” Jon retorted, pushing him away from his way. “And she is not my love! If you want her, have her. She is a free girl.”

After those words were spoken, Jon left, shouldering Theon, who was standing at the door, smirking, with crossed arms. “Hey!”

Dany turned and tossed in her bed, not being able to sleep because guilty was eating her up. She hurt a boy that showed her nothing else but kindness, and she knew that she needed to mend it. Those words she said to him. She shouldn’t have voiced them.

So, throwing the furs from her way, Dany jumped to her feet, and after putting on her warm furcoat over the dress, and picking up the candle that was next to her, she headed for Jon’s room. The hallways were dark and empty, and not even a ghost could be seen or heard.

When she reached his doors, Dany took a deep breath, and rose her fist, ready to knock, however she stopped frozen in a place. She didn’t know what was happening. What was holding her back from knocking? Was it the guilty? Jon’s reaction? The fear that he already made his mind on her and decided they could not be friends? If this was the case, then Dany really didn't know how their living together would go.

In the end, she gathered the courage, and knocked at the door, waiting for him to open. A wait that seemed like an eternity, but which finally ended, and the door opened.

"Jon. I…" but the words died as soon as she saw how he looked. Bare chest, trousers undone, and damp curly hair. His body was slender but well-built from what she could tell, undoubtedly because of his intense training. When he crossed his arms, she saw the muscle accentuate and Dany felt heat rise from her core, and her cheek getting warm. Looking down, she said, “May I enter?”

He nodded, stepping aside, and avoiding his look, she got in, heading straight to th table to put the candle, while he closed the door. Placing the candle on the table, Dany turned towards him, and with intertwined hands before her belly, while looking down, said, “I come to apologize, Jon. What I said…my words. I know they hurt you…I never meant to hurt.”

He was in silence, the whole time, and Dany dared to look up at him, seeing Jon still standing there with crossed arms. She took a step closer, but before she could speak, it was Jon who did.

“You did nothing wrong.” He moved to the bed sitting, and sighing. “It was me who was wrong. I overacted. It’s just that when you said that because I was a bastard, a princess wouldn’t even spare me a look. Those words brough old memories back to life.”

“What memories?” asked Dany, feeling her breath heaving, and the heat never ceasing. She was starting to find it difficult to keep focused because of this moment. His…nakedness…was distracting her. Was making her mind desire things she should not, because they were friends. She wanted to see more, to feel more. Her lips tasting his skin, feel his abs and trace them with her finger.

Leaning back on his arms, and looking up, Jon said, “When we were children, and playing with the wooden swords, I always dreamed of being one of those mighty knights, like Florian the Fool, Ser Ryam Redwyne, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and of course as I mentioned, King Daeron I Targaryen, and Once, when I said I was "Lord of Winterfell" only for Robb to inform me that it was impossible to become due to his bastardy. That was the moment when I truly realised what my place was.”

“And my words brought that back,” she realized, and approaching, sat next to him. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking down, and feeling the tears come down. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jon,” as a sop cracked out, and she felt his arm wrap around her, and pull her against his chest.

“Shhh…Don’t cry. Everything is all right. Everything is forgotten. Everything is forgiven,” he reassured her, stroking her arm, while. She rested her hand and head on his broad chest.

So, breaking and cleaning her tears, Dany asked, in a sore voice, “Are we still friends?”

“We will always be friends, Naerys,” he said cleaning her cheek, looking in her eyes. “Do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” she replied, with barely a whisper, and leaning. However, the moment was broken by Ghost was pushing at her side. Dany chuckled, picking up the little fur pup, caressing him. “You are lucky to have him sleeping next to you, Dany said, looking towards Jon, on to realize that he fell asleep, at the foot of the bed, one leg under the other and arms crossed. She didn’t even notice when he lay down.

The little direwolf yawned, showing he wanted to sleep too, and placing him on the bed next to Jon, before laying there too, for a moment looking a Jon’s sleepily features. Some damp locks were stuck on his face and Dany pushed them behind his ear before resting her hand on his cheek. In that moment because of the shadow of the night, Dany could finally see how much Jon resembled her shadow lover. Young. Curly hair. Broad. 

Jon mumbled something, groaning and turning on his back, and Dany wondered for a moment if this was her chance. Her chance to kiss him since when he is awake, she does not have the courage. But would it be right? It wouldn't be. She knew it wouldn't be, but she wanted to do it so much.

So bitting her lips, Dany got up, and leaning, she pressed her lips to his in a light but quick kiss. A peek as some would say. And at that moment, it was as if her whole body was on fire. Being embarrassed and afraid that he will wake up, Dany got down from the bed and run away, with the candle. 

Chapter Text

Jon did not keep his word and remained at Winterfell for two more weeks, only the Old Gods know why, and because of that, he did not have the chance to spend some time alone with Naerys, because the girl and his brother were almost always together. Be it at the table, eating, drinking, and laughing, be it during the day, going for a ride outside the walls, or a walk-through Winterfell, or visiting the Godswood. 

Whenever Robb offered to show her Winterfell, and have a walk through the Godswood as Jon did, she refused, but whenever his brother did it, she always accepted with eagerness and a smile on her face. And that infuriated him. Because of them being around each other, Robb didn’t have the chance to confess to her his feeling.

“The bastard is winning ground with every day that passes, Stark. Soon she will open her holy doors and he will taste the sweet juice that will come out,” Theon said, sneering, while the two pair were laughing at the table at the far end of it, breaking their morning fasts, and as Arya was annoying them with her childish behavior.

“She is only returning his kindness. Nothing else. The romantic relationship is only seen by you,” Robb retorted, clenching his fist so tight that his knuckles become white, because he knew that the truth was hanging more towards Theon’s words than his, and the Greyjoy retorted, “I heard otherwise. Two weeks ago, she visited his chambers in the heart of the night. Servants heard moans and groans coming from the inside. When the door opened, she was a mess. Her hairs were a mess. Her face was a mess. No doubt because of the rough fuck he gave her when he fucked her throat.”

“She is not like that,” Robb growled, glaring.

“If you don’t want her as a paramour and don’t want to fuck her as a whore, then you should ask your father permission to marry her before the bastard can claim her.”

“You know I can’t. I’m the future Lord of Winterfell. I have a duty towards the North,” Robb replied, taking a sip of ale. “I need to marry in a House that can provide a good dowry and support for House Stark during winter,” he continued, earning himself a scoff from the Greyjoy, who drinking, said, against the edge of the goblet, “Is that supposed to be an obstacle to your desire, Stark? On the Iron Islands, we have the salt wives and the lawful wife. The Targaryen did that too, spreading bastards after bastards all around the kingdoms.”

“I’m not an Ironborn. I’m not a Targaryen. I’m a Stark of Winterfell. My father, Eddard Stark, thought me honor, thought me what Stark's words mean. I won’t shame her in that way and rob her of a possible future.”

“Then let the bastard have his way and claim her holly lands,” Theon said, taking another sip of ale, as Naerys and Jon left the hall followed by Arya. Robb took another gulp of ale and heard Theon add, “I wonder how much she will scream when the bastard will be piercing her cunt or her ass with his thin cock or complain at his lack of size. Maybe then she will come crawling to you stark.” and those words were enough for him to leave the hall. “Or to me!”

 A few hours later...

“Dracarys,” Dany whispered to Viserion, who was the only three of them to not have spite fire yet, and the dragon was struggling again like before.  “Dracarys. Māzigon va.  Kostā gaomagon ziry, riñītsos. Māzigon va, Viserion.” (Dracarys. Go on. You can do it, my little love. Go on, Viserion.)

However, when she heard a knock at the door, she immediately picked the dragon from the floor, placing him back in the cage, despite his complaining whine. “Yes. I’m coming.”

Fixing her dress, she headed for the door, and when she opened it, Dany was greeted by Jon’s beautiful smile, which was making her blush and weak in her knees, while lost in his eyes, every time she saw him. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could come with me, for a moment,” he said, almost as if he was excited about something, and she nodded, rushing to take her clock, before locking the door behind and following him away.

As they were walking in silence through the hallways, Dany realized they were heading outside, but for all the way, she kept glancing at him but making sure that he didn’t notice her. There was something she wanted to ask him, but the fear of seeming intrusive made her hold back.

Outside, she felt a shoulder arise, with the dusk already upon them, and felt Jon’s hand on her back, “Come, before it is too late.”

She followed him, to the stables it seems, wondering if he wanted to go for another ride, and when they reached the entrance, she heard Jon say, “Now close your eyes.”

“Why?” Dany asked, looking at him with a smile.

“Just trust me. Do you trust me?” he said, and she nodded, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, and did as he instructed. Jon took her hand, leading Dany inside. “Hullen,” she heard him great the master of horse, as they stopped after a few moment.

Dany could hear the noise of horses, and Jon stepping behind her, with hands on her shoulders, said, “Now you can open your eyes.”

And when she did so, her sight was greeted by a beautiful horse with a coat as white as snow, just like the one she had always dreamed of. She felt so drawn to her, to her beauty, and without hesitation Dany approached the horse, starting to caress her with trembling hands, already loving the feeling she was having at touching the animal.

"It's a sand steed. A mare to be more precise. It comes from Dorne."

"She's so beautiful," Dany replied, stroking his head and the thick mane. "But I don't understand. Why are you showing her to me?"

"Because, my dear Naerys. This is a gift for you," Jon replied, trying not to sound too excited and suppressing a smile as he crossed his arms.

"A gift? For me?" she asked, stunned and surprised, never expecting a gift, receiving a nod from the young boy, before returning her attention to the beautiful horse. "But I don't understand why."

"You always said you dreamed of having one when you were little, and on our rides, I noticed how sad you got when you talked about it," Jon replied, looking down, and she could see how his breathing increased. "A horse trader came to Winterfell a few days ago, bringing horses of all kinds, hopping to sell some to the Lord of Winterfell. I saw her and made him an offer that was hard to refuse, even though it displeased him, for he would have much more preferred to sell her to Lord Stark and not his bastard."

"And you want to give her to me?" asked Dany, trying to keep her smile at bay, as the boy nodded, blushing, and she, returning her gaze to the horse, said, "You know, Jon, this is not very fair."

"Excuse me?"

And she, stepping away from the horse, approached him, hands clasped before her belly, and looking serious, said, “This is not fair because you gave me a gift, but I have nothing to give you in return," receiving a chuckle from Jon, who, shaking his head, said, "No need. I'm not used to gifts anyway."

And Dany was saddened by that because he deserved them. However, without hesitation, she jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “A hug of gratitude is the only thing I have for now,” she whispered, though that wasn’t the truth, since in her room there were three dragons, and feeling his arms wrap around her.

Such a strange feeling she was experienced in that moment, with Jon’s arm around her. A feeling of safety, of home, of protection, of warmest. What if they were meant for each other? What if it was, he the reason why she was her? That destiny brought them together?

He broke the moment, and with hands on her rams, Jon said, “Would you like to take her for a ride? She is tamed and trained for it, don’t worry, and she is far more gentle than the usual.”

“So, It’s here where you spent the hours when we weren’t riding or walking or talking?” asked Dany, as a smile cracked, receiving no reply from Jon, who was busy getting er horse ready for the ride. “This was the reason why whenever we went to ride out Winterstorm was always outside in the courtyard and already ready?”

“Yes, my lady. I wanted to make sure that she was ready before gifting her to you,” he replied, taking the horse by the reins, and leading her out, as she followed him, all happy. Till now, she no one has ever gifted something to her. Not without wanting something in exchange, like for example the Dothraki army for her maidenhood.

“I haven't had a chance to ask her name yet,” she said, once they were out.

“Snowmane the merchant said, but I’m sure if you would like another one you can name her. Of course, it will take a while for her to get used to the new name, but if you spend a lot of time with her, the horse will get used to it."

“No. It is a fit name. A beautiful name and an easy name to remember,” She replied, seeing Jon nod, approaching the horse, ready to climb on, only to realize that she wasn’t wearing her usual attire when riding. But it was too late now, and when he helped her up, Jon adjusted her cape so that her uncovered legs don’t get cold.

“I'll get Winterstorm, and we'll go out," Jon said, and Dany nodded. While waiting for his return, Dany leaned on the horse’s neck, caressing the mane again, to reassure Snowmane that everything is alright, and maybe trying to form a bond with her if it was not already done.

“Are you ready to take Snowmane for her first ride with you?” came Jon’s voice as he came next to her on Winterstorm, and Dany nodding, took a deep breath, urging the horse to walk, pulling by the reins and hitting him with the heels as Jon has always instructed her.

They rode for a few hours, already past noon, following Jon’s direction, and as they were riding at a walking pace, approaching what looked to be a waterfall in the distance, Dany heard him say, “You are becoming very good. Soon you will be like a centaur.”

“All thanks to your advice and patience," she replied, smiling, and he chuckled. In that instant, hearing the word centaur, Dany remembered something Arya and Lord Stark said about Lyanna, and moistening her lips, said, "Arya told me once that your aunt Lyanna was called a centaur because of how good she was at riding."

“Yes. That is what my father told us,” replied Jon, with seriousness while looking down, and realizing that she should have brought this conversation about his aunt up, Dany wanted to apologize, but before he could do it, Jon said, “There were tales saying she took part at the tourney of Harrhenal, unhorsing three knights.”

“And do you think they are true?”

“I don’t know. Women can’t participate in a tourney,” he replied, with gaze looking forward, and for a moment Dany wondered if that may be the spark that made his brother do what he did and pondered if she should ask Jon’s opinion on the regard. “However, if you ask Arya this, she will tell you that she was because that is what my sister wants to believe.”

“And about the Last Dragon? What do you think of Rhaegar Targaryen?”

“Don’t know.”

“Do you think the tales are true about your aunt and him? That he kidnaped her and raped her?” Dany asked, struggling to voice such words.

“I don't know. All of Westeros is that what thinks while my father doesn't want to talk about the Rebellion or about aunt Lyanna at all because it makes him sad. So I never asked him," Jon replied, and she looked down squeezing the reins. Viserys had always said they were lies made by the usurper and maybe it was true. "But if you ask me what I think, I can tell you that if my aunt Lyanna really was like Arya, then the Dragon Prince would have been gutless as soon as he tried to kidnap her."

And a chuckle escaped her at the words Jon used, hearing him say immediately, "Forgive my bad tongue, my lady."

Dany laughed, shaking her head, “Don’t worry. You are not the first one I hear,” returning her gaze forward, and saw that they reached a small lake, with a beautiful waterfall. She didn’t know where they were, since never before they reached this place, but it was beautiful.

“Let’s take a break now,” Jon said, getting down from the horse. “We will let them water and take some rest because Snowmane isn’t yet used for long rides.”

Dany nodded, as he helped her down, and tied her horse next to his, while she looked and listened to the waterfall. A beautiful sight to behold. The more she explored these lands, the more she found beautiful places in the great northern wildness. But Of course, she would have never gone in the exploration of such land on her own.

“This was a place I used to come to many times when I went hunting on my own, spending hours lying by this pool and listening to the sound of the waterfall,” Jon said, sitting at its shores. “It was a place where I could find peace, and it isn’t too far from Winterfell.”

“Issa gevie,” she said, sitting next to him, and he glanced at her, making Dany realize that she spoke in Valyrian tongue. “It’s beautiful.”

“Indeed. Inside there is a hotspring cave, quite common in the North, and I swam in the hot water sometimes,” Jon said, and Dany looked down, blushing, as the image of his broad chest, ripped muscles came to her mind again. “Under my castle, there is one too.”

Wanting to change the topic because her body was starting to get too warm, Dany said, swallowing, “You told me during our first ride that you wanted to learn the Valyrian tongue.”

“Aye. I did, but now no more,” he replied, dismissing the topic at its birth, getting up, but she grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Why?”

“Because I wouldn't need it,” he retorted, freeing himself. “It’s better if we go back to Winterfell.”

“I was wrong in saying that a princess wouldn’t look upon a bastard,” Dany said, getting up, and biting her lips pondered if it was the right moment to tell him the truth. He stopped, and she took a step closer. “I said those words because... because... I was afraid,” whispering the last part.

“Afraid? Why would you be afraid?”

“Because of the Valyrian princess you wanted to meet," she blurted, resting her hand on one arm and avoiding his gaze. She was sure that there were no other princesses of Valyrian blood around, but one never knows that he may have met one beyond the wall who was hiding in disguise like her.

He broke out in a laugh, and Dany looked at him, with confusion. Why would he laugh at her?

“That was never the reason, Naerys. It was just an excuse to spend time with you. To get to know you better, since the usual ones were finishing up," he replied, displacing her, before adding immediately afterward. "And I liked the sound of such words."

Swallowing, she asked, “Then why now you no longer want?”

“I already told you. I have no use for them, I know you better now. And we have a new way of spending time now,” he replied. “Though it won’t be too much, because soon, I will need to return back to my castle.”

“The better if we don’t waste time,” she said, looking down and not mentioning the fact that she will go with him. It was still too soon, and she needed to talk with Lord Stark first.

Jon smiled, and lead her back down, near the shores. “Well? Where do we start?”

He walked through the Godswood for hours with the sun already set, until he made up his mind and went to his father’s solar, to confer with him and reveal his intention regarding Naerys.

When he got there, Robb knocked at the door, and when he was granted entry, he saw his father talk with Wyman Manderly, while Maester Luwin was present too, and Robb immediately greeted the old Lord, clapping the forearm. “Lord Manderly. A pleasure to see you again, well and healthy.”

“Thank you, Lord Robb. Healthy yes, but tired,” the man replied, getting up, with great difficulty. “However, when House Stark calls, the merman responds.”

“Thank you, Lord Manderly. We will continue our discussion tomorrow,” his father said.

“Indeed, we will, Lord Stark. And I hope to see the boy present too,” replied Manderly, receiving only a nod from his father the Lord, as the old man left.

“What is it, Robb?" asked his father, while exchanging scrolls with the Maester.

“Who was Lord Manderly talking about?"

“Jon. I changed my mind about his plans regarding the western shores and summoned here Manderly and Glover. Lord Glover is still on the way, however, while Lord Manderly arrived in the marrow,” his father replied, unfolding the big scroll, and Robb glanced at Luwin, before returning his attention to his father. “Now. Did you want to talk to me about something, son?”

“Yes, father,” Robb replied, sitting on the chair before him, and starting to think about the best way how to approach the topic, as his father, started signing. “There is not an easy way to voice them…and I’m sure you would think that it is soon, or that my feelings aren’t true. That is only an infatuation…I….”

“I take it you are referring to Naerys," his father said, and his face betrayed no emotion.

“Yes, father,” he nodded, raising his eyes up at him, and even glancing at the Maester who was busy with his own mansions, but Robb was sure he was listening to them. Wetting his lips, and taking a deep breath, Robb voiced them. “I fell in love with her father and now I want to marry the girl.”

His father did not react, not immediately at least, looking at him in a strange way, before busting in laugh, and filling his goblet with ale. Sipping, and taking deep breaths, he said, “And does the girl in question wants to marry you too?”

“Yes,” Robb lied, trying his luck, only for his father to crush them with the following words. “Then you won't have anything against it if I ask her too, will you?”

“No. Of course no,” Robb replied, swallowing, and starting to feel heat arise, sweating and all his skin burn.

“Maester Luwin. Find the girl and sent her here,” his father said, giving the Maester the scroll he signed.

Once the Maester left, he heard his father say, “Robb, I want you to know that if she is against this I won’t allow the union, and the argument will die here. If she agrees, then you will have my blessing. However, do you understand that she brings nothing to the table?”

Robb only nodded and felt his heart pounding in his chest, knowing the outcome of this meeting.  He should not have been so impulsive and voiced for her when the girl’s feelings may be different. He was impulsive, and now he knew, but there wasn’t a turning back.

It did not take long for her to join them, who, after knocking at the door and being granted entry asked, “You wanted to see me, Lord Stark?”

“Yes,” was everything his father said, before silence fell over them for a moment, with the girl sitting on the second free chair, and his father’s gaze upon her, while Naerys was glancing between them, with a confused expression.

The girl glanced between them, confused, nervous, and very anxious, and Robb heard her ask, “What is happening, my lord? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, my lady. You did nothing wrong,” his father reassured the girl. “I summoned you here because there is something that came to my knowledge and that concerns you.”

“Me?” she asked confused, frightened, and with eyes widened as big as the moon in the sky when is kissing the land below. “I don’t understand. I…”

“Robb informed me that he wants to marry you,” his father said bluntly, “and he said that that you agree with it. Of course, if this were to happen, I want you to understand to consequences and what the future will hold.”

She did not reply, and Robb did not dare to look at her, because he didn’t want to see the disappointment and the hate in her eyes.

“Lady Naerys? Are you well?” his father asked, and in that moment, Robb took a glance at her, seeing Naerys look down, squeezing the dress with her fist, making her knuckles white as snow.

“I don’t want,” she said, barely a whisper, before looking up at his father, and Robb could spot some tears drop down. “I don't want to marry Robb because I don't love him. I think you understand how I feel."

"Why my lady?" asked Robb.

"Because I don't love you, Robb," she retorted, almost exasperated. "I only wanted a family, and I thought...I thought I found siblings here...a brother in you. It was never my intention in marrying you,

“Yet you want something more from Jon,” he retorted, clenching his jaw and his fist that was resting on his tight. “You spend a lot of time with him. You ride together. Walk together. Laugh together."

“Robb. This is enough. The girl doesn’t want to marry you and I will not allow such union,” his father interfered in the conversation, and the girl looked down. “You are the heir of Winterfell, and you have a duty to your House and to your people. Love is the death of duty, Son. Always remember your duty.”

Robb looked down, not knowing what to say, and feeling his heart breaking because of this choice his father was forcing upon him. Why can't he understand that even if he marries Naerys, he will not forget his duty to his people and his house?

“Now leave the solar, Robb. I need to speak with Lady Naerys.”

He shot to his feet, storming out of the solar, and heading to his rooms, stopping on his way when he stumbled upon his brother, who was heading to his own room.

Robb said no word, glaring at him, before continuing on his way, with clenched fist. It was all his fault. If he wasn’t here, Naerys would be his, she would have spent her time with him. Rode with him. Laughed with him, but now no more. Now she was with him. Robb was sure that she wanted to marry him. Undoubtedly now, she was asking his father to allow her to marry Jon.

He won’t let that happen. Robb was sure that once Jon was out of the way, she will be with him. She will fall for him. He was sure that she already was, but because of his brother's insistence, and the only one who can help him in this regard, in winning the girl he wants, was Theon.

Chapter Text

After the events of the previous evening, Ned's mind was stormy, not letting him sleep all night, and once the first lights of the morning appeared, he went straight to the Godswood to think about the recent events.

First the Targaryen’s appearance in Pentos and the lie he had to make to protect the princess and his nephew from Robert and the Lannister, then rumors about White Walkers beyond the wall. He didn’t want to believe that they exist, but in that dream he made, Ned saw them right before Lya pierced him with the sword. Ned keeps telling himself that it was only a dream and yet, there are events that confirmed it wasn’t a dream.

Now his son is added to the mix with his newly discovered feelings for the princess. Of course, Ned knew this could have happened since the princess was very beautiful and kind, and it didn't go unnoticed to him that Robb and Theon had wooed her before Jon’s arrival, but to marry her? That was beyond his expectations, and he had no intention of allowing such a thing to continue. Especially since the girl didn't want it and Lya's fate still haunted him till today.

If only he didn't side with his father that day, if only he had voiced against the decision of forcing her to marry Robert, maybe today things would have been different. She would have been still alive and would have been raising her child. No. He won't have that fate on the princess too. Or on any of his children at all. The match they will choose will be of their own. Or almost since Robb’s choice will not come true.

Sighing, Ned placed his hand on the heart tree asking for guidance from the Old Gods, but nothing. They were silent. Maybe they were silent because they felt betrayed by him. Because he brought dragons here. Or maybe because he built a sept for his wife and their children were raised in the faith of the Seven.

Suddenly, Ned heard footsteps approach, and opening his eyes, he saw his wife, coming in his direction and she was holding something in her hand.

“I knew I would have found you here,” she said, giving him a weak smile, and Ned noticed a scroll in her hands, but before he could ask anything, she spoke. “Forgive me, my lord... there was a raven from King’s Landing,” and stopping she exhaled, looking down while folding with the paper as if she was trying to find the best words, but his heart realized.

“It’s about Jon Arryn, isn’t it?” Ned finished, and she nodded.  His heart ached at the knowledge that his mentor died, and he did not have the chance to see him one last time. Exhaling, he asked, “How?”

“A fever took him, according to the scroll. He was healthy at the full moon and gone by the half,” she replied, and Ned found it strange. Yes, he wasn’t very healthy lately, but dying so quickly? Ned was sure there was more to it. “What about your sister? And the boy? Robin.”

“The letter said they’re well,” she replied, but he said nothing, clenching his fist. There was something off here and he had a feeling that the Lannister may have a hand in it because of Jon’s influence over Robert. His wife bent, and placing her hand on his clenched fist, said, “He loved you very much, Ned. You know it.”

“I haven’t seen him in how long…nine years?” Ned said, pulling away, while guilty made its way over the anger that he felt before, and some tears dared to fall.

“You couldn’t have known-“

“Of course I could have known. He was an old man, Catelyn,” he said with exasperation, getting up, and while patching, continued in a broken voice. “Every year he asked me to visit him and every year I told him, ‘Next year.’ And now he is gone. I…The girls won’t even remember him.” He stopped, leaning against the heart tree. “While Bran and Rickon never even met him.”

“You’ll tell them the stories,” his wife reassured him, getting up, and placing one hand on his shoulder, while he turned, crossing his arms, and leaning against the tree, he said, with a half-smile, “Old Jon would have been proud of Bran. He was a brave boy at the beheading.”

“Brave but too young,” she said, disturbed by his words, and tucking her hands in the large sleeves of her dress. “Eight is too young to see such things, Ned. You don’t know the nightmares he now has. He sees crows and dead men.”

“Should I tell you about the things I saw before I was eight? He won’t be a child forever. And winter is coming,” he said, moving back to the trench and sinking down. “Anyway. His brothers helped him. Especially Jon,” earning a scoff from her.

“Jon Snow is his half-brother. But let’s not talk about your bastard,” she said, turning. “My lord, the raven brought more news. The king rides for Winterfell along with the queen and all his retinue.”

“He hates the cold. Always has. If he comes this far North, it’s one thing he’s after,” Ned replied and that was him being the new Hand of the king and maybe propose him a marriage between Sansa and his son. A marriage that he had all the intention to refuse.

“You can always say no,” his wife said, but Ned shook his head.

“You don’t know the king very well. If he wants me in the south there is nothing that will change his mind.”

“And do tell me, my lord. When you will go South, do you intend to drag your whore with you, or do you instead to leave her here until your second bastard is born and continuing to shame me in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms?”

“She is not my mistress, Cat,” Ned replied, exhaling with exasperation. “You know deep down that I’m true to our oaths and that my words are truthful.”

“Lies,” she hissed. “If she isn’t your mistress and isn’t pregnant with your bastard child, why is she still here?”

“I told you that I saved her in Pentos and offered her a shelter because she was alone and had no place where to go,” Ned said, sighing. It was a distorted truth, but it was the truth. “Anyway, she won’t be here for long. She will leave Winterfell with Jon and go to live at his castle.”

“So she is a whore you brought for your bastard,” Catelyn point out, smirking as if she realized something, and straightening. “Good. Finally, you come to your senses, my lord, and saw the mistake you made. My congratulations. I never could have foreseen such a twist of events.”

“What do you mean, Catelyn?”

“That now that he will be married to a whore and not to the daughter of a lord. Jon Snow will have no support against our son because no one will follow a bastard married to a whore and risk to shame their name in such a relation,” she replied even if it was more to herself that she said those words, before starting to head away.

“Where are you going?”

“To prepare a wedding. After all, the northern lords need to witness their union and know that their lives are tied and he has no true support from a rich dowry.”

“You will not do such a thing,” Ned said, raising his voice more than the usual and putting on the Lord’s mask that was emanating authority, and his wife stopped, turning towards him with a very confused expression.

“Why would I not do such a thing, my lord?”

“Because that’s not the reason why I’m sending Naerys with Jon,” Ned replied taking a step closer.  “The reason of why I’m sending her with Jon is not something you will be put aware of, but know that if they will want to marry, they will do it because of their own choice.” And as those words were leaving him, Ned prayed to the Old Gods that it won’t happen, despite Robb’s words about them.

“But-“

“Besides that.  You cannot arrange their wedding here at Winterfell, considering Robb’s feelings for her. If he sees them unite before the Gods and men, it will destroy him and I don’t want that fate for our son,” Ned replied, leaving her there, without giving her a chance of retorting, and with Ice on his back, he headed back to the new keep.

Catelyn was standing there baffled, as her husband left the Godswood. Her son’s feelings? What did he mean by those words? She was aware that he had wooed her, but she took it more like a challenge with Greyjoy to shame the girl not that feelings had a hand in this. She will have to enquire her son on the regard, and so she went in Robb’s search.

But her search did not take long as the moment she came out of the Godswood, Catelyn saw her son in the courtyard, standing with Greyjoy, arm crossed, and while watching the bastard train his men, however, when she looked better, Catelyn realized that his sight wasn’t on the bastard, but on the girl who was at the other end of the yard, and whose attention was completely on Jon Snow, looking at him with amazement as he was swinging his sword in his dark tunic and with his raven curls, now damped by the sweet, left wildly.

She only saw that Dornish whore once, at Harrhenal, but Catelyn could tell how much he looked like her. No matter how much Ned denied that he wasn’t her son, she knew. Catelyn knew that Jon Snow was Ashara Dayne’s child. Same curly raven hairs. Same features. The eyes of a whore who seduced and fooled her husband just like this new one whose eyes resembled the Dayne’s. Maybe that was the reason of why he was keeping her here. Because this young whore was reminding him of Ashara Dayne, despite the hairs being of different colour, and he didn’t want to forget her.

“I see your men are slow learners, brother,” her son suddenly said, stepping forward, and she drifted her eyes away from Jon Snow and to her son, who was smiling and a wicked way. “Maybe they would like to assist at spare between two very skilled warriors.”

“Robb,” she warned him, receiving a deadly look of determination from her son, before returning his attention at the bastard.

“So brother? What do you say?”

“That I’m done for today,” the bastard replied, moving to the table and filling himself a cup of water.

“Come on, brother. Let your men assist to the skills of the man who will lead them in battle. Let Winterfell assist at how the wolves are fighting.  The White Wolf against the Young Wolf,” Robb continued to speak loudly, earning the cheers and agreements of the men who were there, but the bastard kept refusing, leaning against the table, with closed eyes, as sweet was streaming down.

“Maybe with a worthy prize the Bastard of Winterfell will agree,” Theon Greyjoy said earning laughs from the crowd, that had increased, and she saw that Ned was assisting it too while leaning with Arya and Bran next to him “A kiss on the lips from lady Naerys.”

Her son glared at Greyjoy, before looking at the girl, on whom all the eyes were pointed. She was all red, embarrassed because of the attention, and looking down, nodded, despite it being forceful, to which the bastard took two sparing swords and approached Robb. Catelyn did not like this. Not liked at all.

They took the fighting position, but her son immediately attacked the bastard with impatient,  grunting, and roaring. Blows easily paired by the bastard, who dogging, hit Robb’s back,  moving away,  with gaze fixed on the girl.

Catelyn glanced at her, seeing the whore squeezing her intertwined hands, as her chest was moving fast because of her heavy breath.

The bastard returned on his charge against Robb, starting to strike him so fast, that her poor son was struggling to keep up, and stumbled with his feet, falling to the ground, before Jon Snow kicked Rodd in the face.

Catelyn wanted to run to her son, and stop this madness, but she knew it would make Robb appear weak before the bastard, who, however, earned a scold from the Maester at Arms, who said, “Calm down, Jon. It’s only a spare.”

Robb cleaned the blood that came from his mouth, and tightening the grip on the sword, went back up to his feet, charging at the bastard roaring like a wild wolf. He was fighting so much like her Wild Wolf, Brandon, and Catelyn was sure that if he was here, Brandon would have never allowed for their son to be treated this way by a baster, and above all, her Brandon wouldn’t have brought his bastard her.

She looked up to the terrace, seeing Ned gone, before returning her attention to the fight, seeing Robb finally prevail, hitting the bastard into the leg and making him fall to the ground, before spinning his sword and try to land a blow, that the bastard parried grabbing his sword’s edge with both hands, and pushing Robb’s Jon Snow flipped backward, almost hitting Robb with his feet again.

Her son charged again starting to strike from right and left, from up to down, and attempting a lunge, which failed and gave the bastard a chance to disarm her son, before hitting Robb in the gut and knocking him down. Pointing the sword at Robb’s throat, the bastard said, “Do you yield?”

But her son didn’t, trying to grab his sword, at which the bastard, pushed it further, and kicking Robb again in the belly, before pulling him up on the knees, and with the sword trapped between his blocked arm and near Robb’s throat, the bastard growled. “Do. You. Yell?”

It was humiliating what he was doing to her poor Robb. And all the fault was of that whore who twisted Robb’s mind on the regard, and Catelyn looked at her with hatred before hearing her son say, “I. Yell.”

Everyone was shocked, but no one stepped in to protect her son, and when the bastard let him go, GreatJon roared in a laugh, cheering the bastard, before being followed by a few more soldiers and lords, but not everyone.

Jon Snow proceeded to approach the girl, to get his reward, but, he did not kiss her on the lips, rather sank down to one knee, taking her hand, and placing one chaste kiss to her knuckles. “My lady,” before getting up, and heading for the table, to drink while Catelyn saw her son fuming in rage, as he was helped out, and stormed away to the new keep.

She had enough of this, and rushing to the whore, Catelyn slapped her hard on the face, making the girl fall almost to the ground, and leaning, Catelyn said, pointing her finger, “You fooled my husband, but I won’t let you fool my son.” And as she was leaving, Catelyn said, “Be you damned Pentoshi whore!”

Everyone was shocked at what just happened. On Lady Stark’s outburst, and when Naerys run towards the Godswood in tears, Jon searched her, but since it was too big as a place, it took him a few moments to find her, however, not near the heart tree, but in the far end of this holy place, under one of the old oaks, hidden from the sight and whimpering. She was sitting on the grass, knees up, and arms wrapped around them, while her face was buried in her dress. The coat shielding her from the cool, and the silencing her cries.

Jon wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know how to approach her without seeming intrusive, and sighing, he sat next to her without saying a word, as she kept crying silently. He felt sorry for her because she did not deserve Lady Stark’s hatred, since what happened before it was because that damn Greyjoy’s proposal, and because his brother wanted to show something. However, even he wasn’t blameless.

Taking a deep breath, Jon placed a hand on her back, stroking Naerys in reassurance, wanting to show her that she wasn’t alone, and the girl snuggled closer, before laying her head on his chest, saying in a sobbing shaking voice, “I hate her, Jon. I hate all this situation. I can no longer bear.”

“I know the feeling,” he whispered, wrapping both arms around her, kissing the head, and squeezing the girl's small frame to himself so that she knew she was safe, before sighing. “But maybe you should grant him that.”

“What?” she asked in a rough voice, sniffing and swallowing while gripping his tunic.

“Marrying him,” Jon, said, feeling a knot in his throat that was choking him because of those words, and she broke from him, shaking her head. “No! I don’t want him. I don’t love him.”

“My brother is a good man, Naerys. An honourable man,” Jon started, while looking down, but not having the strength to voice the rest of them that were lurking on his mind.

“And you are not?” he heard her ask, and glancing up, Jon saw her look at him, with her beautiful amethyst eyes that now were red and blurted because of the tears while folding with her dress. So, not bearing the sight of her pained expression, he sighed, looking down. “Jon?”

“I cannot offer you what he could,” he said, as his chest heaved. All of a sudden, his breathing was labored and heavy, making the beats of his heart struggle, “He will be one of the most powerful man when he becomes lord, Naerys, ruling over a land that is almost as big as all the south.” And as the words left his mouth, he felt his heart break, knowing however that they were truthful. 

However, the moment those words left him, she broke apart from him, getting up, and starting to patch back and forth, while fiddling with her fingers. Avoiding his stare, she said “It’s all right,” while her breath increased. “I never expected for you to feel the same for me as I feel for you. I...I just hoped that I could have found in you a friend that I could trust in the time of need.”

“Naerys. That’s not what I meant,” he said, getting up and, stopping the girl by grabbing her shoulders, while she kept avoiding his gaze. “Of course you are my friend, and you can always trust me,” Jon reassured her, and since what he need to say next was important, and she was still avoiding his gaze, Jon lifted her chin up. “But you need to understand that I cannot spend all my time at Winterfell no matter how much I care for you. I have a duty towards my land, Naerys. My people, that count on my protection. I have a duty towards the Watch.  I was made lord to protect the northern borders, and that’s what.”

“Then take me with you,” she said almost begging, placing her warm hands on his cheek. 

“I cannot, Naerys,” pulling her hands down. “My castle isn’t like Winterfell. You wouldn’t be as comfortable there as you will be here. I’m still trying to rebuild it and as regarding my household, I don’t have servants or ladies in maids that can help you.”

“Do you think a good bed and comfort is everything I seek, Jon?” she asked, bringing her hands back to his cheek, and not letting him look away. “No. I lived my life on the roads in the past. What I want now is to be away from that woman, Jon, and no longer feel the pressure I’m feeling here because of your Brother and Theon Greyjoy.”

“But my brother will protect you. If you-“

“I told you that I don’t want him! I don’t love him!” she screamed this time, moving away. “If you don’t want me with you then say it straight!” she kept screaming, but this time tears were added, and a pointing fingers, before immediately turning and wrapping her arms around herself.

This was why he was wrong for her. No matter what he says, he always get her angry. He always hurt her. This is why his brother would be the perfect choice. He was gallant and much better at talking with girls than he was. However, sighing, Jon approached her, and wrapping his arms around Naerys, pulled her to his chest. “It is not for me to decide, my lady, whether you can come with me or not. Lord Stark-“

“Lord Stark will agree,” she cut him, breaking from his embrace. Crossing her arms, and swallowing, she added, with a smile this time. “When we were at White Harbour, he confided me that he had the intention of sending me to live at your castle.”

“Why?” he asked, confused by her words, but she only looked down. Understanding that she had no intention in giving him an answer, Jon left without a word, heading to the place where maybe he will find some.

Once there, he knocked at his father’s door, entering in when granted, “Father.  Do you have a moment? There is something important I need to talk you.”

“Yes. I was about to send for you. Come there is something I need to put you aware of,” his father said, and Jon was quite confused by his words. When he sat on the chair before his father, Jon heard him ask, “However, before that can happen, let me ask something. What's going on between you and the girl?”

“Apologize father, but I don’t think I understand.”

“Naerys, Jon. Is she the reason of the feud between you and Robb?” his father asked, exhaling, almost as if trying to keep his anger at bay, and Jon lowered his head nodding. “What I always thought you two? To never fight between yourself because it will only benefit the enemy. And I thought I was clear.”

“Robb misunderstood our relationship,” Jon mumbled, trying to keep his heart at bay and not being betrayed by his emotions.

“Your relationship?”

“Yes, father. The time we spent together, while walking or riding. She voiced me that she has never had a horse and I thought it was something kind to do to her. But Robb kept believing otherwise.”

“Jon. I don’t like this kind of behavior from my sons. Don’t dare to deceive a girl

 “But she can no longer bear to live here, father. Between Lady Stark and Robb-“

“I know. That is why I wanted to call for you. King Robert is coming to Winterfell, and he cannot find her here,” his father cut him, and Jon was confused by those words because could not understand why the king would even care about a bastard girl. “However, before I tell you who she truly is, you need to reassure me that nothing is between you two.”

“Nothing is between us, father. I swear,” his nephew replied, betraying no emotion, no feeling, and Ned while Ned tried to read him, but he was sure that something between them has developed. Even if not in a romantic way.

So, to prevent for another Aerys Targaryen to be born, Ned, Taking a breath and shifting in his seat, said, “Naerys Storm isn’t the girl’s true name, Jon. She is Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen, daughter of-“

“The mad king,” finished Jon, quickly putting the piece together. “You brought the daughter of the Mad King here?” asked his son in disbelief.

“I did. It was the main reason of why I went to Essos. To save the Targaryen,” Ned replied, while his son tensed on his seat, squeezing his fists. He was angry and Ned could not understand why.

Breathing heavily and keeping looking down, Jon said, “How could you do it? After what her father did to our House. How could you save and shelter her here?”

“What would you have done? Let her suffer the same fate as her House? What had I always taught you?”

“Why now? Why didn’t you save her and shelter after the rebellion?” his son asked instead, and Ned lowered his head, not having a reply to that, and his nephew asked, “What are you going to do with her now? Will you marry her to Robb?”

“No. Robb’s match is someone else. He is the heir, and his wife needs to come from a rich and powerful house. Winter is coming, son, and we need powerful allies.”

“Why not the queen of Westeros then?” asked Jon, still looking down, but his voice was dark and deep. “He would become the Queen’s consort. The most powerful man in Westeros and could help the North far more than any of the southern House you will ally yourself with.”

And Ned was stunned by Jon's words. Such a sharp mind was showing the boy in matters of politics, and he was sure that in another life, growing up as a prince and as the king's brother or son, he would have become Hand like many Targaryens of the past.

“Father?"

“You are very right, Jon, but tell me, is that really what you want? Robb and Daenerys married and ruling the Seven Kingdoms together?"

Jon didn't immediately answer the question he had asked him, and Ned could see how the boy was struggling. But in the end, he mumbled, "The good of the North is what I want."

“The good of the North you say. And tell me, Jon, how does putting her on the throne benefit the North? To put her on the throne means fighting a war. Men will die.”

“Then, if marrying her to Robb isn’t your intention, and neither claiming the throne in her name, what are you going to do with the princes?” Jon asked, looking at him for the first time since he started this conversation.

“I hoped she could go with you and live at your castle, out of the sight of those who want her dead," Ned said, and Jon seemed taken aback. "But of course, if you don't want to, if her being a Targaryen is a problem, then I'll find another way-"

"No, I can shelter her."

"But will you treat her kindly?"

"Of course I will. Who do you think I am, father," Jon retorted, in an offended tone.

"A good lad, very honourable and with a kind heart," Ned said, and Jon smiled, as he got up, but Ned knew that now that this truth was revealed, it was also time to tell Jon who he really was. And taking a deep breath Ned said, "Jon, there is still something I have to tell you now that this truth has been revealed."

And his Nephew sat down again. “It’s about your mother. She was….” He stopped feeling as a knot was blocking the words to come as if his heart was daring to come out. Thousands of questions

“Father? Are you well?”

“Yes, Jon. What was I saying?”

“My mother.”

“Yes. She was a good woman, Jon, from a Great House…She was young…she was kind…and she was brave…” Ned stopped again, feeling his tears daring to come down, as his sister’s dying expression came to his mind again. Promise me, Ned. Promise me you would protect him,’ she asked, but how revealing the truth is protecting him? If he tells him that Lyanna was his mother and Rhaegar Targaryen his true father, Jon will most likely go to king’s Landing to kill his killer and avenge his siblings too.

“Father?”

“Your mother was a good girl who had been taken from this world too soon,” was everything Ned said, squeezing his fist and biting it, while a few tears came down and he immediately cleaned them. He cannot tell him. He wasn’t ready. Too young he was and too impulsive.

“Father-“

“Is better if we go to the Princess now. I need to inform her on the decision, and you need to be present,” Ned said, getting up, and not letting the boy ask more about the mother. It was cruel. It was cruel to keep the truth from him, but it was the only way to protect him.

In the meantime…

After Jon left without a word, Dany stayed in the Godswood for some more time, trying to imagine what will happen should Jon refuse to take her with him, because he thinks she is better at Winterfell or with his brother.

She tried so hard to reason with him, to make him see otherwise, but he was firm on his beliefs. And that hurt her. It hurt her that he could not see she was falling for him. That she wanted to be with him, after her so many obvious attempts in showing.

When she entered her room, Daenerys found it empty, dark, but with a fire starting to light in the heart, and when she looked that way, Dany saw that there was someone sitting on one of the chair. So grabbing the thin log that was usually kept by the door, Dany approached it slowly, recognizing him. It was Robb who was sitting.

“Robb? What are you doing here?” she asked, lowering the log.

“There are strange noises coming from your chests,” Robb said, taking another sip, and her heart started to hammer in the chest, alarmed by his words. “Strange little birds you have.”

"What are you doing here, Robb?"

“What does he have more than me?” she heard him ask, while taking another sip. He was drunk, and she was afraid in this moment because Dany knew what drunken men can do. Will do, no matter how good or honourable they were.

“Please, Robb. I ask you to leave.”

“not before you answer my question,” he retorted, hiccuping, while getting up, and stumbling on his way as he was approaching. Dany backed away and found herself hitting the door behind her.

“Huh? Did the wolf bite your tongue?” he said, hiccuping again, and placing his hand on the door next to her head, while looking at her. She could feel the stench of wine coming from him as he started to lean, and the hot breath coming from his mouth, while she tried to push him.

“Enough!” she pushed him, but even drunken, he was steady enough, and Dany felt him grab her troth, without squeezing her and pin her to the door.

“Tell me,” he growled, panting, and so was she. Dany was afraid that he may hurt her in the worst her. “Tell me!”

“He is not you,” she hissed. “He is good, he is kind, and he doesn’t take a girl against her will.”

“So am I,” he retorted, moving his hand to her cheek. “So. Am. I.”

“You are not,” she retorted, hitting him between the legs with the log, before pushing him down, which was done easily because of his drunkenness, and run to the chest where her dragons were roaring and hissing restless because they thought she was in danger, wanting to free them and unleash on the boy, but stopped her hands from doing so. If she does, then she will be like her father.

Jon followed his father to Naerys, or Daenerys or whatever name she had, rooms and his mind was so torn. How can he accept her there, knowing who she was and what her family did to House Stark? But at the same time, there was another part saying that he should not care about the past. About actions made by people long gone.

When they reached her chambers, his father knocked, and after a few moments, the door, with the girl greeting them in a very restless way. “Lord Stark. I…He is drunk and-”

“Robb!” his father shouted when his brother’s body came to view while lying on the floor, and Jon immediately run to him to see how he was, followed by his father. As he was checking him, with light slaps on the cheeks, Jon heard his brother mumble words that he knew very well about the princess and smelling the strong stench of wine coming from him.

“He is drunk, father. Very drunk.”

“Then take him back to his rooms, and call the Maester,” his father said, and Jon cursed under his breath, He slung his brother over his shoulder and with great difficulty left the princess's room, heading to Robb's chambers, hoping that no one will see him, or stop him.

When the door closed, Ned leaned with hands against it, hoping that what happened wasn’t what he was thinking. That the boy didn’t abuse the princess, because if it was so, may the Gods protect him from his wrath.

Exhaling, Ned turned to the girl, seeing her sitting on the bed, looking down, and slowly approaching asked, “Princess Daenerys. Did my son…Did my son rape you?” And she shook her head, making him release a sight of relief. He didn’t do it, but Ned will have to have a word with that boy and put him back in line once sober. “I beg your forgiveness, Princess. This should never have happened. What my son did... his behavior... he is not like this. He is a good boy... he is-"

"Like any son of a lord, my lord. Arrogant and entitled. He thinks that everything and everyone belongs to him and that everyone is here to lick his ass," the girl replied almost in a cracked tone, but there was more anger in that than anything else. "I was ready to unleash the dragons on him, Lord Stark, but I stopped myself because I am not my father."

"And for that I thank you. I will see to it that he behaves properly from now on. I will find him a suitable bride soon and he will forget you."

"I can no longer stay here, Lord Stark. Your son's obsession for me...it is too much to bear such fate," the girl said, looking up at him, and rising from the bed. "If Jon does not want me in his castle, then I will return to the Free Cities."

"No. Jon agreed. He will take you to his castle, but you must promise me that you won't make him fall in love with you."

"How can I do that?" she retorted, almost in exasperation. "I didn't encourage Robb to do this. I cannot stop a man's feelings."

"No. You didn't. Robb is young and impulsive. He did it of his own free will, but I see that Jon is not immune to your beauty either, Princess Daenerys. He is young and impulsive too. He also has feelings for you."

"It is certainly not my fault that I was born this way, Lord Stark," scoffed the princess, crossing her arms, and sulking, something she had in common with Jon it seems. Maybe that is from what side Jon took the brooding attitude.

“No, you are right. You are not to be blamed. Jon is aware of the truth. That you are a princess. I’m sure that will stop him from any romantic feeling towards you,” Ned said, to which the girl looked at him, with furrowed eyebrows. This was exactly the reaction he was searching from her. It seems the Princess returned Jon’s feelings and it wasn’t very good.

However, before this conversation could continue, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s me, father,” came Jon’s voice from the other side, and the girl went to open it. The moment she did, Jon’s eyes went to hers, and they bother were breathing fast, but showing no readable emotion on their face.

“Jon. Did anyone see you?” asked Ned, approaching.

“Jory. And I asked him to stay there and wait for Maester Luwin to come,” Jon replied never taking his eyes away from the girl. Dragons. They were drawn to each other, and so were the two of them. Aunt and nephew wasn’t a really big deal in Westeros, and Ned may even allow this if it wouldn’t have meant a new Aerys.

“Jon. The princess is aware of our discussion. Tomorrow you will leave Winterfell,” Ned said, and they both look at him, raven curls with her silver-golden one. A fine pair they were, indeed, only if they weren’t Targaryen. “Now I will leave you too alone, to discuss on the matter, while I will go to see Robb. I apologize again for his behavior, Princess Daenerys.”

The moment the door closed behind him, Jon heard her exhaling, and while moving away say, “I hope that the revelation won’t change your opinion about me, Jon, and that you can understand the reason of why I lied about my identity.” But he didn’t reply, crossing his arms and waiting to hear more from her, who at his non-reply, continued.  “I’m not my father, Jon, if that is what you fear.”

“I didn’t think about that.  If you were then now Robb would be ashes,” replied Jon, knowing very well what his brother was about to do. “I only don’t understand why my father wants you to come to live at my castle considering that your appearance can be changed.”

“Because of my dragons,” she replied, surprising him, and bending, she pulled out something from a cage. When she turned, Jon couldn’t believe his eyes because of what she was holding in her arms.

“Is that really-“

“Yes,” she said, smiling, and caressing the little black beast in her arm.

“How?”

“When the manse where I and my brother lived for the past year got attacked by men, and burned to the ground, I hide in the stone tub with the eggs that I stole from the magister. Lord Stark informed me that when he found me in the marrow, the dragons were hatched and alive.”

“How is that you are not burnt?”

“Don’t know,” she shrugged her shoulder, while the dragon purred, because of the care. “Maybe it’s because of my Targaryen blood.”

“Aye. It may be,” he whispered, mesmerized by what he was seeing. A mother of dragon was the princess it seems, and this changed everything should she want to claim her throne. But Jon decided to not to mention it, and clearing his throat, said, “Well, it’s better if you get some rest, Princess Daenerys, and gather your belongings. In the marrow, you will need to be fully ready.”

“Those are the only thing that matters to me, Jon,” Daenerys replied, smiling and nodding at the chests.

Jon nodded, turning, but stopping when she said, “You asked me why I didn’t want to marry, Robb. The reason was because I did not love him and because my brother was forcing me to marry someone I did not love. Someone who was twice my age and a savage.”

“Who?”

“A warlord. In exchange of his army to attack Westeros.”

“Is he dead?” asked Jon, and the princess looked at him confused. “Your brother. Is he truly dead?” and she nodded, so Jon took a step closer. “Good. Because if he wasn’t I would have killed him because of what he wanted to do to you.” And before leaving, he kissed her forehead, “Sleep well, princess.”

After those words, he left to head to the smith, and leave instructions for Arya’s sword.

Robb roared awake as soon as he felt the cold water pouring over him, and brushing his face with his hand, he blinked a few times seeing Theon standing nearby with a bucket in hand and his usual annoying grin on his face.

"What do you want?" asked Robb, feeling his head aching and not remembering what happened the previous day.

"She's gone," he said, putting down the bucket, and Robb looked at him confused. "Naerys. She left with Jon and his retinue. She took her belongings, put them on the wagon and left Winterfell before dawn. If you want to stop her, you need to do it before they're too far away and confess your feelings to her with a clear head."

In that moment, Robb remembered what happened the previous night, and shame and guilt took over him. He tried...He tried...Robb didn't want to even think.

"Are you moving or not," Theon said, throwing his clothes at him and the sword.

"I don't deserve her. What I did...What I did wasn't honourable...Wasn't..."

"Stop crying yourself, Stark. Take that sword, jump on the horse and kill the bastard. He is the one who stole her. who fooled her. Naerys loves you. She wants you. Dorhea told me," Theon said, and so Robb immediately threw off the soaked furs and started to dress with his heart pounding in his chest. "How do you know she left?"

"Dorhea. She left a note on my bedside table. I have to say that the girl surprises me with every passing day. I never expected a whore from the Free Cities to know how to write. Not in the common tongue at least," Theon replied as he stretched. "Anyway. Your horse is ready and waiting for you in the courtyard."

And Robb, without hesitation, ran there, while he was still fastening his trousers, and had his tunic open. If Dorhea says that Naerys was in love with him then that must be true, because the girl was her friend. No one knew Naerys better than her. While running Robb keep telling himself, "She did not love his brother. She was not in love with Jon. She was going because her parents forced her to."

On his way, he stumbled upon Jory, who tried to stop him, but Robb managed to free himself and escape, before coming out of the new keep, and once his horse was spotted, Robb run to him, and with shelter sword in hands jumped on his steed, riding towards the hunter’s gates, and north, following the trails left by Jon’s party.

It did not take him long to reach his brother and Naerys, who were riding at the head of the party, halting their horses the moment he barred their way.

“Robb! Have you lost your mind?”

"No, Jon. I'm not letting her go without first telling her how I feel and showing her the future I can offer her."

"I'm not interested in any future with you, Robb. Especially after the previous night. I don't love you and I don't want you! Do you want to understand that or not!" she replied, in a hoarse voice, before taking Jon's hand, who was next to her. "I want peace and quietness, Robb. And I want to be with Jon. He's my choice."

Her brother looked up at her surprised, before, smiling, and placing his hand on hers, he said turning to him. "Now stop these antics, Robb. Act like the son of a great Lord and not like a little child who whines and complains because he doesn't get the toy he wants."

"Rush words brother. But if you want me to act like one, then I will," Robb replied, pulling out his sword, and his steed began to flail. "You are still on my land brother, and I will arrest you for treason against House Stark."

"Treason?" chuckled Jon. "Do you hear yourself, brother?" he asked, urging his horse forward. "You're not like this, Robb. You were never like this. Do you forget the things our father taught us?"

Robb tightened the grip on his sword, as his brother came face to face with him, only a few inches from him. It would take a swift move and he would be dead. But no matter how much he desired Naerys, he cannot kill his brother. They have clashed in the past, but Robb would have never dared to kill Jon, no matter how hurt he was.

At that moment his father arrived, with some of his guards, and from the height of his steed he shouted, "Let this madness cease!" and they all turned towards him, while the Lord of Winterfell approached them, with a dark, angry and disappointed look, stopping right beside him. His expression was unreadable, as were his unpredictable actions. And indeed came his backhanded strike, which made Robb almost fall off his horse but Jon caught him.

"You have failed me, son," the Lord of House Stark said, before turning his horse, while Robb's cheek was burning. "Now go!"

And the party started to move without hesitation as Robb was looking down, ashamed, feeling Jon's hand rest on his back and leaning, his brother whispered, "Forgive me if you can, brother, as I have forgiven you, but remember that if you don't stop with this and try to hurt Daenerys again I will not hold my hand next time."

Whereupon, Robb asked, looking at him, "Who is Daenerys?" but Jon did not answer, hitting Winterstorm with his heels and riding away, leaving him there alone, or nearly so. Jory had stayed behind it seemed, and Robb knew why. He had to take him back to Winterfell, and that was where he would head, but not before looking behind one last time.

He fucked up everything. It seems listening to Theon brought him nothing but pain, and a broken heart. He insisted on Naerys despite her being against it, fooling himself that she was in love with him, hearing only what he wanted to hear, and now he has lost his brother as well. His mother will be very happy now. Neither Naerys nor Jon will be in Winterfell from now on.

Chapter Text

It was the hour of the owl when they stopped for the night in the woods near the Long Lake, and she was grateful for that because she was starting to struggle to ride on the horse, not to mention that she could feel her dragons being restless because of the long-time caging. She wasn’t yet used with such long journeys on the horse, and she knew many more were awaiting them before reaching Jon’s castle.

As the nights before, Dany with the horse that was caring the three chests, moved away from the camp, and with Jon’s help, she started to free the dragons from the cage, one by one.

The first one to be freed was Morghul, who stretched his wing, widely, yawning and shaking his little head, as if he just woke up, before rising into the night sky like a shadow. Rhaegal on the other hand, hissed at her as if he was scolding her for caging him, before flying straight into Jon’s arm, making him fall to the ground, and making him become very tense.

Dany tried her best to not laugh, and said, “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” he retorted, trying his best to feel at ease, as the dragon was looking at him with expectation, but Dany could see that he was a bit afraid. “I just don’t understand why he behaves like this with me, since his brothers don’t so much.”

“Because he likes you, Jon…which is strange, if I can say,” she said, approaching them with Viserion in her arms, the gentlest of the three.

“Why strange?” he asked, surprised by her words.

“Because he did not like your father,” she said, sitting next to him, crossed legs, and as her dress stretched. “Thought, maybe that was because he tied them and put in a sack.”

“Aye, maybe it’s because of that,” mumbled Jon, caressing the dragon. “And what about Ser Jorah and your friend. Dorhea.”

“Same, I would say. They tolerate them, but they aren’t like with you. Or should I say, not like Rhaegal, since it seems he got fond of you.”

Jon said nothing, and Dany dared to look at him, seeing a rare smile appear on his face as Rhaegal was purring. He was cute, but what impressed her was his interaction with her dragons, and Dany doubted they would accept anyone else.

“So it is true,” she heard his suddenly say, breaking her moment of mesmerizing. “You were indeed attacked by thieves and your brother killed.”

“You have doubts?” she asked, receiving a nod from him. “I don’t think they were thieves I think they were sent by Robert Baratheon.”

“Aye. I figured it out,” Jon mumbled, with half-opened jaw, as he remembered what her brother Rhaegar Targaryen did. Kidnaped and raped Robert’s betrothal.

While Morghul was flying around them, Rhaegal started playing with Ghost, to Jon’s displeasure, but he cannot stop them and seem rude to the princess, Viserion approached him. Jon did not have much interaction with the third dragon as he was always cuddling with her when he was out, and now the cream dragon was looking at him.

“Viserion,” Jon said the name, trying to touch the dragon, but before his hand could even brush against the dragon, his brother Rhaegal came between them, demanding his attention again.

The Princess giggled, saying, “It seems someone is jealous.”

“Aye. It seems he is,” chuckled Jon, caressing the green dragon as silence fell over them again for a few moments. “Now I understand why my father gave me that place.”

“Hm?”

“I was saying that now I understand why Lord Stark proposed you to live in my castle.  It was because of them. A hidden place, in the mountains, away from any sight but with enough room for them to grow. To live freely.”

“I doubt it,” mumbled the princess, as the black one landed next to them after burning something and starting to mule it.

“Why you say that?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Because, if I remember correctly, your father gave you the castle and made you lord before he came to Pentos. Therefore, there is no way he would have known about the dragons, because they weren’t born at that time, yet.”

Jon didn’t reply, thinking about what she just said, before hearing her ask, “How is it?”

“Hm?”

“Your castle. Your lands. How are they? You said it’s not like Winterfell.”

“Rocky,” replied Jon as the dragon in his arms flew away, and the same did the one in the princess' hands. Pulling up his knees and hugging them, he continued. “The castle is settled on what looks like a small mountain. A square wall is around it, protecting the yard and the keep. It’s not big, but for a small meaningless lord is perfect. However, it can be easily protected even by a small force like mine.”

He stopped to take some breath, and glancing at the princess, Jon saw her look at him with great attention, and almost as if she was amazed by what he was saying, which made him proud, because usually, no one listened to him, especially back in Winterfell, and as he was looking at her, Jon found himself lost in her beautiful eyes again.

“Jon?”

“Yes...I’m sorry. I lost track. What was I saying?” he asked, looking down.

“You were describing your castle.”

“Yes. The keep is made of stones, and it is like a tower stretching up. At the top there is the tower guard, overlooking the land around, although there is not much to watch. There are rooms, but I must warn you, I don’t have many living ones, or that are heated. Then we have the Great Hall with a stone throne inside,” with gaze fixed on Ghost, who was jumping and trying to catch the fireflies.

“A throne?” chuckled Daenerys.

“Aye. And has some dragon shapes on it,” he replied, and as those words left his mouth, Jon looked at her to see the princess’ reaction. 

“Dragon shapes?” She chuckled, surprised, as her eyes lightened up under the moon’s lights and a smile appeared on her gorgeous face. “It seems as if that place was waiting for me,” she laughing said, looking down on the grass.

“Maybe it did,” he breathed out the words without even thinking, as she looked up at him. Silence fell over them, as they looked at one another, with him sitting hidden by the darkness of the night, and the Princes lightened by the moonlights, piercing through the leaf’s trees. But it was he who break the moment, getting up.

“It’s better if we return to the camp and have some food before the men finish it,” he said, approaching her and helping the princess up. The moment she was on her feet, however, Daenerys collided with him, and as his arm instinctively wrapped around her to hold the princess up, their lips were only a few inches from one another, and Jon wondered if he should let his instinct lead him. Wondering if he should give up, and kiss her, but there was that voice saying in his mind, you are a bastard. You are unworthy of a princess, love, and Daenerys’ words came back to his mind. A princess would never look upon a bastard.

So, breaking from her he said, “Let’s head back.”

Hours later…

Dany stirred as the morning lights were blowing on her closed eyes.  A light, warm breeze kissed her skin, and she opened her eyes, blinking a few times.  The fire has died by long as she could notice that the smoke was no longer coming up, however, those who were laying around it, were still sleeping. 

She turned, laying on her back, and with intertwined hands on her belly, Dany looked up at the sky. It was so clear. Not the usual gray one that she has seen since her arrival. This looked more like a spring sky. Clear and shining, like the one from Essos. 

Suddenly she saw dragons dancing in the sky, and immediately jumped to her feet, afraid someone may see them, or even steal them. Dany quickly approached Jon, bending down and shaking him. “Wake up, Jon. Wake up.”

But he only groaned in complaint, mumbling something in his sleep as he turned on the other side. A little breeze arose, and sleeves from the trees fell down, before floating into the air, forming the shapes of a dragon.

Dany followed them through the woods, barefoot, and not feeling the rough grass under them. She could hear strange whistling words echoing in the wind, in a strange tongue that she has never heard before. She kept walking and walking, feeling green eyes open around her through the trees, and looking at her, and soon the grass under her feet was replaced by the cold white snow, and Dany found herself before a wall. A Great Wall.

She wondered if that could be the famous Wall, and when she saw a black castle in the distance, Dany started running. She run and run, and it seemed as if the distance was getting wider and wider between them the more, she was approaching it.

On her way, Dany stumbled upon a stone, falling down and hurting her knees and wrists, staining the white snow mane under her with red blood. Suddenly around her, the sight started spinning fast, with the sky changing, until she as no longer on the snowing ground before the Great Wall, but in an arid desert, before red walls, still on her knees.

‘Bride of fire, Daughter of death, Child of three, come to us exiled princess,’ she heard the words chanting, while before her, in the far distance, thirteen shadows appeared, one of who was tall, and pale with violet eyes, and blue lips

“Daenerys. Daenerys,” she heard her name being called, before a pale dragon landed on her, roaring with a cold breath, she closed her eyes, afraid for a moment as the roars turned into words, and she heard Viserys laughing say, “You wake the dragon, sweet sister.”

But when she gathered the courage to face him, he was gone, and as her eyes opened, Dany saw that it was still night. The fire was still on, and she released a sigh, realizing that it was only a dream.

However, when she felt an arm pulling her closer, Dany realized someone was laying behind her. When she tried to get up the man tightened the wrap, holding her down and she heard him whisper, “It’s me, princess. Jon. There are men around us in the woods. Enemies for sure. Thieves, maybe, or a wilding’s attack.” He stopped placing something hard against her belly. “Take my dagger to defend yourself should you find yourself alone and in danger. And remember   stick them with the pointy end.”

Dany said nothing, finding herself lost at words as she felt him shift behind her and slowly draw out his sword, before resting his hands on her waist, saying “Do not worry, Daenerys. I will let no one harm you.  I promise.”

She only kept nodding, gripping the dagger and holding it to her chest waiting for the crucial moment.

It took them, but a moment to came out of the roaring and shouting, and the men who accompanied were on their feet ready to fight.

Jon too was up to his feet, shouting orders as he took a fighting position while shielding her with his body.

The battle started.  They were many, all around them, as their men were gathered in a circle. They were struggling to hold them back. Jon killed at least three of them, who changed in their direction, but an arrow stuck in his shoulder as he stepped between her and the enemy.

Then a Horne blew, and the enemy retreated, she immediately turned her attention to Jon, seeing him fall to one knee, bending. “Jon! You are wounded!”

“Only a scratch,” he tried to joke, with a light smile, before clenching his teeth, as she helped him up. “Men. I want to count of the dead and those who are wounded.”

However before they could carry on the orders, galloping through the woods could be heard, and riders appeared from the woods, starting to kill their men.

Jon immediately pushed her down before a blade could touch her, but hurting himself as the arrow broke, and heard him release a scream of pain before saying, “Under the carriage,” pushing her there, but Dany knew she was the only one that could save them, despite revealing her greatest secret. So, getting up, she run towards where her dragons were.

Only to be knocked by a man, who said, “Comm’ere pretty lady.”

Dany, using Jon’s dagger, stabbed the men in the leg and then quickly in his throat, before pushing him of her with all her force. After that, she crawled towards her dragons.

She was afraid. Very afraid. It was the first time she found herself in the middle of a battle. However, her dragons’ roars and wines, she found her strength. Suddenly arrows started to fall on the enemy, and Dany took opportunity of that to free her dragons.

With trembling hands and a heavy breathing, Dany tried to free them, but never losing sight of her surroundings. She managed to free Morghul in time as a man run towards her with sword in hand, stopping the moment he saw the dragon.

“What in the Seven Hells is that?” She heard him say in a different accent, as Morghul lifted into the sky, roaring.

The battle stopped as the men was burning, and Dany took the opportunity to scare them with her dragon, shouting the word. “Dracarys!”

 Morghul immediately breathed fire upon the man who fell to the ground, screaming, as the fire was burning his clothes and reaching the skin. She was shocked for a moment, before hearing her dragon’s roar, and gaining confidence, turned to look at the others.  With a loud voice and threatening expression, she said, “If you want to live, I advise you to run away before I set my dragon on you!”

And without having to be told twice, the enemy ran away with their tails between the legs. 

Dany released a sigh of relief. They survived the attack and as her heart tried to return to the normal beat, she heard someone say, “What in the Seven Hells is that?”

And looking towards the man, she saw that it was Edd, with a shocked expression on his face, but like him, the others had it too, as they started to approach her and Morghul, who in the meantime landed next to her.

“It’s a bird from Essos,” came Jon’s voice, as he approached. “They are quite common in there, so if anyone of you thinks that it is valuable, he is not.”

“I have never seen a bird that breath fir. Only-“

“Dragons,” Jon finished the sentence before the word could leave the man’s mouth. “Yes. But there aren’t Dragons in this world anymore. Those are birds from Essos.  From the far Eastern side of Essos, near the Shadow Lands.”

And Dany smiled thankfully to him, however, the argument did not seem to end there, as Grenn said, stepping forward, “How you know it’s not a dragon? You have never been in this Essos.”

“Neither have you,” retorted Jon, chuckling greeting his teeth and holding his shoulder. In that moment, Dany remembered he took an arrow for her and immediately rushed to his side.

“Jon! You are hurt.”

“Only a scratch,” he reassured her, but wasn’t enough, and she heard Edd say, “We need to pull out the arrow and clean the wound if it stays stuck, it may get infected, and he will die.”

“He won’t die!” she retorted alarmed while resting her hand on his chest.

“He won’t. But we need to take it out,” Edd said, pulling out a dagger, as she helped Jon down near the fire, holding his hand.

In that moment, Grenn said, “We found those roaming the woods with bow and arrow,” and Dany saw a group of five people standing there , one of who was a girl, a young girl, and neither the boys seem much trustworthy.

“Who are you?” she asked, getting up and with clapped hands.

“Ramsey Snow, natural son of Roose Bolton.”

“Bolton? What are you doing so far from the Dreadfort, Ser?”

“I’m not a knight, lady, and I’m here to offer my service to Lord Snow of Winterfell,” Ramsey said, but before Dany could speak, she heard Jon say, “Why would Roose Bolton’s son want to offer his service to Ned Stark’s bastard.”

“Because of what you represent for all the lowborn boys in the North,” Ramsey replied, getting to one knee, reciting an oath of pledge, but Dany looked at Jon not listening. He wasn’t paying attention to it too, and beckoned for her to bend.

She did as he asked, and heard him say, “Can you accept the oaths?”

“Me? But I never-“

“I will help you,” Edd said, stepping. “I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth…”

“I vow...that you shall always have a place by my hearth…” Dany stammered, feeling her heart pounding in her chest and her breath increase.

“And meat and mead at my table….”

She glanced at Jon this time, who was struggling, before looking back at the party. “And meat and mead at my table….”

“And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

“And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new,” and as those words were leaving her mouth, Dany was sure that this was a mistake. A mistake that they may pay it in the future. “Arise.”

And Ramsey Bolton with his men did, while she bent down next to Jon’s again, as Edd was heating the blade.

“Do you know how to do it boy?” asked Ramsey, approaching. “If you don’t do it properly, things for him may get worse.”

“And you do?”

“You can bet,” the man said, grabbing the knife and bending. “My lady. Better if you go. And bring some wine.”

“I won’t let his side go,” she said, squeezing Jon’s hand, as Grenn brought the wine and the man proceeded to remove the arrow, while Jon screamed, before purring some wine and the heated blade on the wound, while Edd was holding him down.

“He will live, but now he needs rest,” Ramsey said, but she stayed there next to Jon, caressing his hair, and holding his hand, hoping he won’t die.

Winterfell...

All Winterfell was gathered to welcome the king of the Seven Kingdoms who came to pay visit to one of his greatest and most loyal bannerman, but Ned knew that the truth was far from there. He was here to ask...no, demand that he joins him south and become Hand of the King. However, in all this, Ned was glad that the princess was no longer here for Robert to see her, or in the Lannister reach at all. 

The first one to enter the courtyard, was a dozen of foot soldiers of House Baratheon, who lined up on the side, holding the banners of the crowned stag. The next ones were the knights of House Lannister, upon their war steeds, waving proudly their banners with the Golden lions on the red field. Those were undoubtedly the Queen’s men.

Right behind them came a Kingsguard in his golden armour, escorting the one Ned supposed was the Crown Prince, since he was the Lannister’s spiteful image, and right next to him there was a Clegane.   Ned’s stomach turned at the mere sight of their coat of arms of three hounds on a yellow field and remembering what happened to Princess Elia and her children made his anger arise again.

Now they were staining his homeland with their dishonour, however, he was distracted by the arrival of the Queen’s chariot, and from behind it, he finally appeared. The king of the Seven Kingdoms Robert Baratheon and by the old gods he had changed during those nine years. In bad not in good.

Everyone bent the knee, while Robert got down from his horse, with great difficulty as Ned could see when he rose his eyes for a moment, and with a thought and angry expression, marched straight towards him.

Stopping, Robert beckoned to get up, and the moment he did, Robert said, “You’ve got fat!” before bursting in laughers.

“Cat!” Robert greeted his wife with a bear hug.

“Your Grace.”

“Nine years. Why haven’t I seen you? Where the hell have you been?” Robert asked, returning his attention to him, after patting Rickon’s head.

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.”

The King only gave him a look, before turning his attention to the other children. “Who have we here? You must be Robb.” And his heir clapped the forearm with the King, before Robert turned to Sansa. “My, you’re a pretty one. A queen you may become one day.” And Sansa smiled, blushing. But the moment he came face to face with his youngest daughter, Ned’s heart started hammering as the King, looking at her breathed the name “Lyanna?”

“No. Arya,” his daughter replied, and Robert looked at him, before looking back at Arya. This wasn’t a good sight, and with still a shocked expression turned his attention to Bran.

“Ooh. Show us your muscles.” And Brandon did before Robert burst out laughing. “You’ll be a soldier.”

When Cersei Lannister approached, Ned bowed, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles, greeting her, “My queen.”

“My queen,” Catelyn made a reverence, before Ned heard Robert say, “Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects to her.”

“We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait,” the Queen complained, but the king will have none of it.

“Ned.”

As they were walking through the crypt’s cold hallways, Ned asked about Jon Arryn, and the king started to tell him what happened, however, when he stopped Robert asked, “I heard you went to Pentos and met Illyrio Mopatis.”

And he felt his heart start to hammer in the chest. Whoever told him, undoubtedly was aware of the princess. Swallowing, he said, “I did. I wanted to use the magister’s influence to gather some alliances for when winter will come.”

“Did you know Viserys Targaryen was there?”

“I did not. I only found out when I got there,” replied Ned, lying, or trying to lie, but he knew Robert wasn’t a good reader of people.

“Well, he was there, and you did nothing.”

“Your grace-“

“I know what your honor asks, Ned, but I have a throne to defend. We need to strike before the enemy does. You should have done that the moment you saw him,” Robert said, stopped and Ned looked do, trying to show that he was guilty, despite not being.  He wasn’t ashamed of his actions. A child should not be held guilty for his father’s actions

 Resuming their walk towards Lyanna’s grave, Robert said, “But your little trip to Pentos isn’t the only reason why I’m here, Ned.”

“I know. It saddened me to hear that Jon was dead,” Ned exhaled, feeling the cool of the crypts fill his lugs. “Tell me what happened.”

Robert sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. One moment he was fine, and then... It burned right through him, whatever it was. I loved that man as if he was my true father.”

“We both did,” blurted Ned, still feeling his heart aching for the old man. He still remembered him from the times when they both grow up in the Vale.

“He never had to teach you much. But me? You remember me at sixteen? All I wanted to do was crack skulls and fuck girls. Old Jon showed me what was what,” the king retorted, with a laughing expression, while Ned rose a sceptical eyebrow, knowing that the old Robert did not change. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not his fault I didn’t listen.”

Shaking his head, Ned continued, as the king keep blabbing about the south, about the women and about the tourneys, until he finally reached to the reason of why he was here. “You must wonder why I’ve finally come north, after all these years.” 

“To inspect the Wall, I suppose. It has been long overdue,” Ned replied, trying his luck, but deep down he knew that the reason was a whole different, however, there was hope that Robert may intervene in help of the Watch since the Wight Walkers were back.

“The Wall has stood for eight thousand years. It can keep a while longer,” Robert stops walking and turns to face Ned.

“I must disagree Robert. The watch is no longer as it was in the past. Their number are diminishing, and the lord commander informed me that a king has raised beyond the Wall, gathering under his banner all the wildings’ clans.”

“There hasn’t a king Beyond the Wall in a hundred years. And the wildings aren’t big deals, as is the south,” Robert retorted, unimpressed by his treat. “These are dangerous times, Ned...I need good men around me, men like Jon Arryn. Men like you. Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you Hand of the King.”

This was exactly what Ned feared when words about the king’s arrival came. But there was nothing he could do. So, Ned dropped to one knee, swallowing. “I’m not worthy of the honour.”

“I’m not trying to honour you. I’m trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave. You know the saying...The King shits, and the Hand wipes,” laughed Robert, to Ned’s displeasure. “Now stand up, Damn it,” the king added, pulling him up. “You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the fucking thing. We were meant to rule together, Ned. If your sister had lived, we’d have been bound by blood.”

And Ned looked down at the king’s statements. He really didn’t know Lya as he thought if he thinks that with his whoreing and drinking, he would have ruled for more than a day or sat on the throne at all.

“But it’s not too late. I have a son, you have a daughter... my Joff and your Sansa will join our houses,” the king said, at which, Ned retorted, trying to change the King’s mind. “You honour me, Robert, but I cannot accept.”

His old friend become very serious, almost disappointed. “Why?”

“Because I already made the agreement with one of my bannermen. Lord Bolton. Sansa is due to marry Domeric Bolton once she is lowered,” Ned said, and the King taking a step closer, said, “You would prefer to wed your daughter to one of your bannermen’s son rather than to the future king of Westeros.”

“With all due respect, Robert, may I remind you what happens to the Starks who venture South? They die. I don’t want the same fate for my daughter,” Ned retorted, hoping to not make him angry.

“The Targaryen are gone, Ned. The south is safe for your daughter. You know that your family is my family, Ned. We are brothers. If someone dares to hurt your daughter, he will face my wrath,” the King said, but Ned disagreed with his judgment. “Come on, Ned, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. What better ally for the North than her?"

“I need to think in this regard.”

“Yes. Think. Take the girls south with you. Show them the lives they may have if they choose a southern match,” Robert said, laughing, and patting his arm, before heading for Lya’s grave. This was something Catelyn would want to make truth. Sansa as Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, but not for him, and he will have to keep it to himself, hoping that no one will spit it to the winds, and reach her ears.

The feast was loud and joyful for the king who was sitting on a table, drinking with the northern lords and his men, while groping the poor servants’ girls.

“You at a feast is like a wolf in cage,” said a laughing voice, and turning, Ned saw that it was his brother, who finally arrived.

“Benjen,” Ned hugged his brother. “How was the journey?”

“Long. But I meet Jon on the way, and he wasn’t alone,” Benjen replied, taking a sip, and giving him a look, as Ned looked down.

“Uncle Benjen,” greeted I’m Robb, hugging his uncle. “I’m so glad you came.”

“How could I miss the King’s arrival to Winterfell.”

“And petition him for men,” Ned pointed out, chuckling. “You said you meet Jon.”

“Aye. On the Road. They had been attacked.”

“Was Naerys well?” Robb asked, with a worried voice and his brother glanced towards him with a confused expression, taking a sip.

“Aye, she was. But Jon was wounded.”

“Wounded?” asked Ned, alarmed, and his brother nodded, before taking another sip. “Come. Let’s move to my solar. I want to know everything,” Ned said, nodding to his brother to follow him.

Benjen nodded, giving his cup to Robb, and patting his nephew’s shoulder, followed him away from the great Hall.

They rushed to his solar in silence, making sure no one followed them, and upon entering, Ned said,  “What do you mean that Jon was wounded.”

“During the journey, they have been attacked by a dozen of men, thieves I suppose. Commoners maybe.  And during the battle Jon took an arrow to his shoulder, protecting the princess,” Benjen replied, and Ned immediately looked up at him.

“You know?”

“Aye. And not only about her,” Benjen, replied, making Ned sit, and sigh while burying his face in his hands. “What is happening, brother?”

“Someone had found about Jon’s origin and sent me a raven. He wanted to join the Watch and I offered him another way.”

“But how did the girl come to you?”

“The said scroll had information not only about Jon’s origins but also about the last two survivors of House Targaryen who fleet Dragonstone and hide in Essos, growing in exile.”

“Two?” asked Benjen, sitting before him and Ned nodded. “But I saw only one Targaryen there beside Jon of course.”

“Because the boy died in Pentos, when the manse was attacked.  They set it on fire and that’s when the Dragons were born.

“She was unharmed?” asked Ben, gasping, and Ned nodded.  “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Targaryen blood I suppose,” Ned said, wondering if Jon was the same way, before continuing, “but I was surprised as you when I found her there, unburnt, and with three little dragons above her.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Robert asked me to become his hand. And he wants to marry Sansa to his son, Joffrey, two unite the houses, but I don’t think I will accept. I don’t like the boy’s attitude,” replied Jon, not to mention some rumours he heard, from the Baratheon soldiers.

“You should accept it. You should accept the position, Ned. Now that the dragons have been revealed, news may spread and reach the Lannister. You could cover them as hand. Make some excuses. Robert will always believe more your words than a fishmonger’s one.

“But that would mean dooming my daughter’s future.  If I accept, she would be forced to crown Prince.”

“If you won’t then most likely the north will go at war. They will hunt them down. They will find them, and they will kill them. You need to think of the North, Ned, and of the promise you made to Lya,” his brother said, before leaving his solar, and Ned sighed. He had put himself in such a mess. He wanted to protect his son. To protect his house. But it seems he doomed it more.

The feast was over. Or to be more precise for her and the children it was. The king and his retinue were still there groping and kissing the poor servant girls when they got near him. Her husband disappeared the moment her good brother, Benjen, appeared. She enquired Robb on the regard as she saw him with them, but he could not give her a reply, because he himself was quite shaken by this.

And once ready for the night she laid on the cold bed of her room alone, thinking.  Think on the new events that burst into their lives like a winter storm and are now gone like the wind.

Her children’s future was starting to form. Her sweet Sansa was going to become queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and the next one will be Robb she had great plans for the heir of Winterfell, and the first lady she took in consideration was Margaery Tyrell. If this ship will sail, the North and House Stark will become the most powerful Kingdoms of Westeros. Brandon will marry a girl from the Riverlands while Rickon one from the North. Arya will be the most difficult to match. That little girl was too wild, and Catelyn feared that if she does not find the right one, the poor boy may have a very bad ending.

However, before that happens, she has to settle matters with her husband.  She was tired of the distance that happened between them. This hole made between them because of that bastard and the Petoshi whore. Catelyn wanted her husband back, she wanted her life back.

She missed his warm body lying next to her in the cold nights, his arms shielding her from the winter’s darkness while she rested her head on his broad chest. She missed his kisses and having him inside her.  Maybe if she gave him another child, another son, he won’t look elsewhere. Yes! That is what she needed to do.

So, getting up, and putting on her warm night overcoat, Catelyn left her room heading to her husband’s one, which was right next to hers. Knocking, Catelyn received no word, and so she cracked it open a bit, peeking from behind it, and saw Ned standing at the window, still dressed in his daily clothes, with hands resting behind his back. He was thinking, undoubtedly about the King’s demands.

Slowly and sneakily, Catelyn approached him, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, whispered, laying her head on his back, “What troubles you, my lord?”

“Did you hire men to kill Jon and Naerys?”

“What?” She asked, swallowing and feeling her heart pounding in her chest as she took a step back. How could he know about that?

“Jon’s party had been attacked on his way to Wolf’s Bridge. The only one that I can think of who holds grudge against the two of them, is you, Catelyn,” her husband said, turning, and crossing his arms, to which she retorted, trying to show hurt and disappointment, “How can you think of me like that! Have I not proved you my wellbeing by raising your bastard?! If I wanted him dead, I would have done it way before this day!”

She turned, trying to leave, but not before spitting the words, with tears in her eyes, “You hurt me, Ned, by thinking I could do this. “

And she left, to return back to her room. She could not believe that those cutthroats failed in killing a simple bastard and a whore. She will have to find another way to take him down and secure Robb’s future.

Chapter Text

After two more weeks of riding, they have finally reached Jon’s castle, and she stopped on a small stretch on the path, to take a good look at the settlement while the party continued, and she must say that it was impressive.

 A very narrow path was leading to that place, a path that would make it difficult for an army to come and even have a battle formation, at least to her knowledge. But she wasn’t a soldier and neither a general, so she wasn’t an expert in warfare. The castle was settled on a mountain that was broken for all the others and a bridge was connecting it to the path.

Jon stopped next to her, and she heard him say, “I know. It’s not impressive as Winterfell, but-“

“I love it, and cannot wait to explore it deeper,” she said, with excitement, looking at him, and when he smiled, she smiled back. This will be her home from now on, and her dragon’s home. Of course, it was cold up here for a southern girl like her and for her dragons who would prefer hotter land, like Essos.

“Come,” he nodded, urging the horse to walk, and she followed.

The horns blew to announce their arrival, as they passed the bridge, giving Dany the chance to see the deep gorge around it, but with water, while on the walls, Dany could see the men guarding, with spears in their hands.

Once inside the courtyard, however, she saw a woman come out from the inside of the keep. She was tall and lanky, with long black hairs that were braided and wearing a long dark green dress in the northern fashion, with a fur coat on her shoulders. She had a quiet unique beauty, not like Lady Stark or Sansa, but a wild beauty. Something similar to Arya.

“Welcome back, Lord Snow. I see your journey was far more fruitful than expected,” she said, greeting Jon and glancing at her, with a smirk.

“Indeed, it was. This is Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen. And there is something I need to discuss with you in private,” Jon replied, as he got down from the horse, before she did too, still shocked that he revealed her true identity.

The woman nodded, crossing her arms, and looking at her, “A Targaryen, hmm?”

“Dacey. Inside. Now,” Jon insisted, before turning to his men. “Edd. Grenn. Bring the chests to the Great Hall.”

The men nodded, turning to the horse that was carrying the chests, and Dany, after giving them one last look, followed Jon in. She wasn’t walking next to him but rather behind, deep in her thoughts, as he was chatting with the woman, and Dany wondered what Dacey Mormont may be to him, because only someone as close to a betrothed or worse, a wife, would run the castle in absence of the Lord, as its lady. She was clearly a few years older than, but there has never been a precedent for a marriage between a young Lord and a Lady much older than the Lord, at least not to her knowledge, since the purpose was to give an heir to the House.

Something inside her stirred, and she could not believe that Jon would keep something like that from her. Not after how much their relationship developed during this time, and especially during their moments in Winterfell. However, she doesn’t dare to ask because it wasn’t her business and didn’t want to seem too intrusive in his life. But on the other hand, Dany really wanted to know what Dacey Mormont was to him. She only needed to approach that in the best and most innocent way.

When they got to the Great Hall, Dany finally got the chance to see that dragon throne he spoke about, and even if it wasn’t the Iron Throne, it still looked magnificent, but she could spot some rebuilt on it. There was fur draped on it, falling from one of the heads, but she sat at the table next to Jon, while before her, sat Dacey, who never took her eyes off her, and out of nowhere, she said, “You look just like your brother and your mother.”

And Dany was taken aback by her words, as she exchanged a look with Jon, while a young girl, of thirteen or fourteen years came in, bringing a tray with cups and two jugs.

“My father, Lord Stark gave us the permission to build the harbor, though he voiced the fact that Lord Manderly and lord glover may be against it,” Jon said as he was filling the cups with ale, and undoubtedly wanting to avoid the conversation about her family. “I was expecting to talk with them and reason, but I was forced to leave.”

“Because of her?” asked Dacey Mormont, taking a sip and Dany saw Jon nodding, but placing his hand on hers, to reassure her worries. “Well, hope you can come and see it, since they already started,” she added, finishing her cup, and getting up, heading towards the doors.

“There is something else, my lady,” Jon said, and the woman stopped. “Ser Jorah Mormont is back in the North.”

“Jorah the traitor?”

And Jon nodded, getting up and leaning against the table, before taking a sip. “He is at the Wall at the moment, but soon he will come here as my father appointed him as sworn shield to the Princess. He may also visit the Bear Island because he voiced those thoughts to Lord Stark when they met.”

“Then he will die,” replied Dacey, leaving, and once alone, Jon heard the princess say, “I don’t want Ser Jorah to get hurt.”

“The law is the law, my lady. Ser Jorah broke it by selling slaves and shaming his house. If they want to kill him there is nothing we can do to stop them or make House Mormont change their minds.”

“We can force them to hold their hand,” the princess said, but Jon decided to change the topic, however in that moment, the chests arrived, and Doreah with them. Daenerys immediately got up, ran to them, and freed the little dragons. They rose into the air and started to fly through the Great Hall.

Jon still could not believe that they were true.  That they weren’t a dream. That they were made from his imagination.

“Now that we are finally here, where do we start?” asked the princess while Ghost came to her side, demanding her attention, and she picked him up in her lap.

“We live. We settle and wait for my wound to get healed,” Jon said, stopping to take a sip. “Then we will travel to the Wall so that you can meet Maester Aemon.” And she became so happy with such a big smile on her beautiful face, that the Wall itself would melt at the sight of it. However, not wanting for his feelings to take over, Jon added, clearing his throat, he said, “but before that, I need to oversee my land and talk with Tom. See how the harbor’s build goes.”

“Can I join you?” Daenerys said with eagerness, before immediately saying, “I mean if it won't bother you...I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You aren’t a burden, Daenerys. And if you want to join me then do it. But I must warn you. If you expect to learn something from me you will be disappointed because I’m still at the beginning and not yet used to running a land,” he said, sitting. “Come Doreah. Join us for dinner.”

Hours later...

After dinner, Jon showed her a bit the castle and then the rooms that will belong to her, and she must admit that they were less than what she expected, however, Dany won’t voice her thoughts on that regard because there were ways of getting them better, without offending him, despite Jon warned her about their poor condition when they were back in Winterfell.

She also got the chance to see the outside through her window and the small balcony, and Dany must say that she was really happy with the surroundings. Now her dragons will no longer be caged, but she only hoped that they won’t burn anything inside her rooms.

Dany was also introduced to the few women of this castle, Master Tom’s wife and his young daughter, but were instructed by Jon to never get inside her room. Dorhea will keep being her handmaid, but Dany heard her complain about not being able to be with Theon Greyjoy. Such a fool she was in believing Greyjoy, but there wasn’t much she could say.

Once settled, she joined Jon in the Great Hall, who was meeting with his people. There were a few families in his land, who provided in their own way, and after having collected the rent they had to pay for the land, she and Jon met with Tom, who was back from the harbor and was showing Jon the plan he made of the small walled town.

“Thirty men will be added to the watch from your house guard, and thirty more will arrive from Bear Island,” Tom said, “with the addition of three warships to protect the harbor.”

“Good. How long will it take to raise the harbor, Tom?”

“It depends on how soon we get the resources, lord. To raise a wooden harbor is pretty easy, and I would say with the help of the sixty men and considering the stone wall, I would say, between three and six months.”

“Good. I also want watchtowers with pyres on them to signal an attack should it happen, and I also want watchtowers on the mountains so that we can be aware of them.”

“That will take a lot of time, my lord. Those are very dangerous places and very difficult,” Tom said.

“I know. There is no rush. What is more important is the harbor,” said Jon, and the man nodded, getting up, and after a bow, left the Great Hall.

Once alone, they sat in silence for a few moments, as he was writing something on the scrolls, while Dany pondered how to approach a topic that she wanted to propose Jon and that came after the attack, but she didn’t want to push him too much on the regard since his wound was still healing.

Dany opened and closed her mouth a few times, not having the courage to do it, and heard him say, with half a smile, “You know you can ask me anything, princess.”

At which she retorted, a bit surprised, “Only because I’m a princess?”

“Aye,” he said, becoming serious this time, continuing to write, and that was making her angry. Very angry. Who she was started to come between them, and that wasn’t good. Not good at all. It was time to put things clearly, but before she could voice her displeasure, Jon spoke, “I know you don’t like it, princess Daenerys, but you cannot change it. No matter how much you try. You are royalty and therefore above anyone. We cannot deny anything to a royal.”

“Maybe because you are spineless,” she spat, getting up and storming out the Great hall like a furious dragon, but at the same time not wanting to say something else that she may regret in the future. She was angry with him for treating her differently now, but nevertheless, she shouldn’t have said those words, because he wasn’t spineless. However, the damage was there, and it was easier to run from it than stay and face him in this condition. Dany thought that they overcame this during their journey, that he understood she didn’t want special treatment because of who she was, but it seems she was wrong.

When she got outside, Dany headed straight to the stables, asking for her horse, which Harwin denied because of Jon’s orders, and that was making her lose her mind. Not only she wasn’t allowed to leave Winterfell, now she wasn’t allowed to leave Magthol too, but if he didn’t want to help her, then so be it, she will get her horse ready on her own, though she was struggling.

“Let me help you, my lady,” Harwin said, replacing her hands with his on the straps of the saddle, and after Whitemane was ready, Dany climbed on the horse riding out the walls alone and angry.

The moment she left, Jon sighed, feeling his head aching. Every time he opens his fucking mouth, he ends up hurting her. He doesn’t want to do it, but the words that come, they come on their own. Jon can’t forget the difference of status between them. And what was worse was the fact that he fell for her.

Getting up with a goblet in hand, Jon approached the window, looking outside, sipping. His brother was better with words than him. He was even better with girls than him, and if they were on good terms, and not loving the same girl, he would have urged him to go after her. So that is what he will do. He will go after her and apologize. He cannot leave things unclear. On his way however, Jon did not find Daenerys but Ramsay Snow wandering the hallways like a sneak.

“What are you doing?” asked Jon, not liking the man because of his vile reputation that all the North know, but he helped them in the attack and that’s a debt that needed to be paid.

“Exploring the place, Lord.”

“If wealth is what you are searching for, Ramsey, you will find no one here. This place is-”

“I’m not here because of that.”

“Then why are you here?” Jon asked, crossing his arms, while Ramsey, approaching him, said, “Because of your actions. I was in Winterfell when you faced your brother. The way you fought.  Word spread across the North about the Bastard of Winterfell who was fighting for what belongs rightfully to him.”

“That’s what you are hoping? That one day I’m going to fight my brother for Winterfell? That one day you are going to serve the Lord of Winterfell.”

“Not serve but help. Help me take what is rightfully mine,” Ramsey replied, and Jon finally understood the reason why he was here even though Ramsey did not say them straight.

“Did you try to kill your brother?”

“I did. Sadly, it did not work. My got in the way and I had to flee the Dreadfort,” Snow replied, looking down and Jon could see he was trying to reprime the anger. A rabid dog. “However, your actions become a beacon of hope for every bastard to raise their heads and fight for what is rightfully theirs. That’s why I’m telling you that when you will push your claim on Winterfell you will be backed.”

“I have no intention in fighting my brother or taking Winterfell because I have no use for it,” Jon said. “Now if you will excuse me. I have matters to attend to.”

“Your woman left,” Ramsey said, and Jon stopped, turning.

“What?”

“The girl...Daenerys if I remember correctly. She is the urgent matter you need to attend, isn’t she?” Ramsey said, grinning. “She rode out. On the white horse. A few moments ago.  Alone.”

And as the words left the boy’s mouth, Jon’s heart started pounding restlessly in his chest.  She went riding alone. What if something happens to her? He won’t forgive himself. He promised his father that he would protect her.

“Do not worry. She won’t be alone for long, if that’s what you fear. I sent Myranda after her. She isn't a warrior like the Mormont girl, but she knew how to defend herself.”

But Jon did not care, especially because he didn’t completely trust these two. So he headed first to his rooms, to take his sword and then, with little Ghost beside him, thanks to whom, he will find her, headed straight to the stables, and the moment he spotted him, Harwin was already saddling his horse.

On his way, Jon stopped and looking at the men who were busy with their mansions he said, “Edd. With me. Grenn. To you the Castle in my absence and keep an eye on the Bolton bastard.”

The men nodded, Edd did as he asked, tying his sword and while Hwrien saddled another horse, and bending, Jon said to his direwolf, “Find me Daenerys. Find Daenerys, Ghost.” And climbing on his horse they left the castle, following the little Direwolf.

She was furious with him. Dany didn’t want to be treated differently because of who she was. Because of being a princess. If something she wasn’t allowed to do then he should say it not treating her with mockery.

However, before realizing, Dany found herself at the shores of the sea, away from the wood through where she rode for hours, and pulling by the reins, she stopped Snowmane. Now the sky was grayish, while the sea started to clash against the cliff. In the distance, Dany could see what looked like an Island in the middle of the sea, wondering if it was Ser Jorah’s home.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” came a woman’s voice, straddling her, and glancing behind,  Dany saw it was Myranda. “The North is wild and hostile. Full of beasts of any kind.”

“Did Jon send you to keep my hand?” retorted Dany,  returning her attention to the sea.

“No. Ramsey,” she replied, stopping next to her, and Dany was surprised by her words but said nothing. “If you are wondering what place is that, in the middle of the sea, that’s Bear Island. Seat of-“

“House Mormont,” Dany finished. So indeed it was Jorah’s home.

“I see you are accustomed with the place of the North,” said Myranda, and Dany nodded.  “I heard that those aren’t the only things to which you are accustomed.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dany retorted, though she had a clue on it.

“You do. Running with the wolves the little princess does,” laughed Myranda, and Dany looked down, feeling her heart pounding, but not only because of her insinuation, but also because of her being aware of her true identity. “Fooling the heir while fucking the bastard. That’s something even I could not pull up. My congratulations.”

“Are you here for a reason, Myranda, or only to annoy me?” exhaled Daenerys, tired of her words, and her insinuation.

“Yes. To watch your back,” Myranda retorted, and in that moment, an arrow passed right before her eyes and Snowmane reared. Another one came, this time before the horse's neck, and Dany heard her curse, “Wilding’s scum!”

Dany could spot a dozen of men, with what looked like to be a bear? A white Bear? She could not believe her eyes.

Turning the horse Myranda said, “To the woods, Princess. Unless you want to die,” urging her horse to ride into the woods through where she rode the past hours, and Dany followed behind, but still glancing at the wilding party. They need to inform Jon and his men of the attack.

They rode for a few miles, losing themselves in the woods when the horses stopped, tired because they pushed them too much, and Dany said, “We need to go back to the Castle. Jon needed to be warned and send men to fight the wildlings group.”

“Suit yourself if you know the way, lady,” the girl retorted, sitting down under a tree while holding the horse by the reins. “They will die anyway before you even reach your lover and he sent men.”

Dany on the other hand looked around to make sure that no one was following them, and closing her eyes took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart. She should not have rode out alone without Jon. Those lands were far more dangerous than she had thought.

“What is the way back to the castle?”

“I don’t know. Follow the mountains I suppose,” Myranda said, and Dany looked up trying to see it, but the forest was very dense. She then looked around again,  hoping to find a road that may show the way to Magthol but nothing. They were lost.

Glancing back at the girl Dany asked, “How do you know I’m a princess?”

“Your lady loves to talk. And she talked about your dragons too,” Myranda replied, and Dany cursed under her breath. “How did you get them?”

However, before this conversation could continue  Snowmane started nickering and rearing, while Myranda got up too, wanting to get on her horse, but it was brought down by an arrow. Because Snowmane was rearing restless, Dany fell down too, hurting her back, and before she could get up, Dany felt someone hovering above her, pinning her down and laughingly saying, “Look at this one. She’s pretty. I wonder how much Mance would pay for her.”

“Fuck Mance and the north. We are going south.  Slit her throat,” another one said.

“Yes. Slit her throat. She is trouble. She looks like them,” said a woman, though, in all this Dany never opened her eyes. “Kill her and let’s run south.”

“Wake up!” Dany felt the man shake her by the shoulder and a cold blade settled under her throat. “I want to look you in the eyes as life drifts away.” She did, and when her eyes opened Dany saw an ugly man. 

At that moment galloping could be heard and when the men got up,  Dany used the opportunity to drive out her dagger and stabbed the man between the legs and in the neck crawling away.  Whoever came to save her engaged all the wildlings men,  while she tried to get up, but the woman grabbed her hair, wanting to slit her throat only was stopped by Myranda who knocked the woman down with a  stone.

“Up, lady. Up!” Myranda said,  and Dany did,  seeing in that moment who came to save them. It was Jorah who was slicing the enemy as if it was made of butter, despite the number.

In the meantime...

Jon’s heart was hammering in his chest as he was searching for Daenerys, but there was still no sign of her, and soon enough, they found themselves at the western shores. It was where Ghost led them, however, even he was tired.

So, getting down from Winterstorm, Jon said, tying his horse, “Let’s make the horses rest for a few moments, and Ghost too.”

Edd nodded, as he started patting his horse, and saying words, while Jon looked towards the sea, before looking around, wondering where she may have gone. These shores have been raided by wildings many times in the past since it was easy to slip past Shadow Tower, and that was worrying him very much. What if they attacked her? Yes, she was on horse, but it takes an arrow to slay it.

“My Lord!” Jon heard someone call him, pulling him out the thoughts, and looking he saw Edd beckoning to come, and he did. “Steps. Fresh steps.”

“Commoners or maybe wildings,” he said, approaching and kneeling to examine them. Some were human steps, but others weren’t. They were big, maybe of a bear, but he wasn’t sure since he had never seen one before in the north during his hunts.

“What do we do? Hunt them?” asked Edd.

“Yes. I swore to protect them. That’s our duty,” Jon said, getting up, but fearing to face a bear because they were imprevisible, and Dacey told him how fighting them was a thought task. “But we need men. I will follow the trail into the woods alone, while you ride back to Magthol and gather a few men.”

“Shouldn’t we head for where the harbor is getting built? Maybe they are attacking it,” said Edd, but Jon shook his head. “You will go alone?”

“Yes. They could be after Daenerys. I can't leave her alone in the forest, but at the same time, we can't face them alone.”

“Wildings aren’t very skilled, so I think we don’t need help,” Edd said, with determination, “And if we die, at least we will do it against those who we swore to fight.”

Jon nodded, saying nothing, and climbing on his horse,  before riding away into the woods,  following the trails, hoping that they won’t get lost,  and at the same time that they will find her in time.

They did not ride for long and soon enough they heard roars, groans, and fights. Jon hit his horse to ride faster and to his sight came the white fur of a bear, while leaning against a tree there was a man.

Jumping down from Winterstorm, Jon pulled out his sword and approached the man snakingly, killing him without hesitation. A roar came and in that moment Jon saw the bear charge at him, while Edd fought the few wildings. Fuck!

The bear tried to attack him again and again, all enraged,  while he was easily avoiding him and tried to strike. Edd came to his help, throwing his sword at the beast,  and wounding him, but the bear did not stop. It was as if he wasn’t feeling the pain. Jon tried to strike too, charging at the bear head-on and sticking his sword in him, but the bear still did not stop hitting him with his paw and making Jon roll down the small hill stunning him for a few moments.

“Jon!” he heard himself being called, as he shook his head,  seeing the princess up the hill, who threw a sword towards him.

Slowly Jon got up, grabbing the sword and when the bear jumped towards him, Jon opened the beast from throat to tail, making it land down and unable to make further attacks. Then, breathing heavily, Jon approached the bear, who was bleeding out and in pain, so not wanting to make the beast suffer further, Jon raised the sword above his head with both hands,  before bringing it down. Exhausted and panting, Jon fell down on his knees.  This was the first thought fight he had. Ghost came to him too, with his snout stained with blood

“Jon!” he heard as arms wrapped around him, squeezing. “I’m sorry Jon...I shouldn’t...I...”

“Shhh...it’s alright,” he reassured her, wrapping one arm around her middle and holding her. There was no need for an outburst because it would turn into a fight and he didn’t want it.

Breaking, she said, “Jorah is wounded. And I think Myranda is too.”

And so Jon got up, following her where the two wounded were. The girl, leaning against the tree, holding her side, while Mormont was on the ground.

Jon knelt, examining the wound, and heard her say,  “It’s my fault.”

“No, princess. It wasn’t your fault because this is my duty,” he said, taking her hand, but she didn’t look up. “But you need to understand that you cannot go outside alone.  Today you were lucky they were only wildlings, but what if one day the Lannister’s spies find you and  kidnap you?”

“I don’t want  to feel like a prisoner.”

“I know you don’t,  but understand that you can’t change who you are and I don’t have the men to protect everyone,” he insisted,  tightening the belt on the man’s wound to stop the bleeding. “I know you don’t like this, but  understand.”

“Where is my  horse?” Jon heard the princess say as he helped Edd too, who had been wounded.

“Gone,” Jon said. “Edd. If you can, help them back to the castle. I know it will take long, but do it. Use my horse too. ”

“What of her?” Edd said, nodding toward a wildling girl who was laying on the ground. “She is still alive.”

“Tie her. We will see if we can find anything from her,” Jon said, seeing the princess start to walk while he,  after taking his sword and cleaning it, followed her too.

As they were walking, in silence,  searching for the horse, Jon said “What did you want to ask me?”

But the princess did not reply, walking sullenly.

Jon decided to not push her further, since the outcome would be another fight, however it gnawed at him that she was behaving like this, despite being in the wrong.

I’m sorry for my words, Daenerys. I didn’t want to make you angry,” he said, trying another approach, and she stopped, but not looking at him. “It’s just...it’s difficult to me to not treat you like the princess you are...like-”

“Do you want so badly to become my dragons’ food, Jon Snow?”

“What?”

“You keep talking and talking but you never want to listen. You keep apologizing, but never learn your lesson.  I told you so many times that I don’t want special treatments,  but you still keep going On your steps,” she said. “Maybe you are deaf or stupid. Maybe I should return to Robb. At least he will treat me differently. At least he will listen to me and understand.”

Jon was stunned for a moment, and even hurt, but soon that was joined by anger, and he retorted, with seriousness and determination, “Yes. That’s what you should do and when I will be back, I don’t want to see you in my castle one moment longer.

“Where are you going?”

“To find your damn horse and get rid of your presence!” He snapped without giving her a glance.

“Who the hell do you think you are Jon Snow!” he heard her shout before turning him by the elbow “You don’t tell me what to do, where to go, or with whom to be!”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be treated like everyone? Well,  the castle is mine. My rules,  my orders. I don't want you there so you won't be there,” he retorted despite not meaning a word that he said. “Now move, princess. Your horse awaits you.”

The princess obeyed, cursing under her breath, while Jon sighed. If she stays one more day in there he will have to stay away from Motgul, and cool and gather his thoughts

Winterfell ...

Catelyn was sitting by her son’s bed, making a prayer wheel, and cursing Ned for Bran’s fate, because it was all his fault this. The gods were punishing them because he brought a whore to his house with Valyrian features, and favored his bastard over his lawful children. 

When she heard the door open, Catelyn saw her husband enter, breathing heavily, and with red eyes.  He had rushed to Winterfell and had cried on the way, but she didn’t care for his tears or his feelings, because it was his fault. 

Robb, who was leaning against the wall and looking outside the window with crossed arms, went to his father the moment he noticed him and hugged Ned. The girls ran to him too, but she didn’t and when they finished hugging, Ned approached the bed, asking, “How is he?”

“Maester Luwin says that if he passes the night, there are chances he may survive, though he isn’t sure when he will wake up,” Robb said when she didn’t open her mouth.  “But if he does.  If he wakes up, he will never walk again.”

And upon hearing that again, a choking sob escaped, and she excused herself getting up, leaving the room as her tears streamed down. She run straight to her room and once there, broke down, sobbing, and letting all the pain she was feeling, out.

It did no took long for him to join her and wrap his arm around her trying to comfort her, and Catelyn allowed it for a moment, sobbing in his arms, resting her head on his chest,  while squeezing the sleeves of his tunic,  however when slowly calming down and sniffing, Catelyn pushed him away,  and as she got up she said in a raspy voice,  “It’s all your fault this.”

“Mine?”

“You favored your bastard over your lawful children and you brought a whore to live under our roof, engaging the gods and now this is the consequences for your actions. They unleashed their wrath upon our little boy!”

“Stop saying this nonsense, Cat,” he said, but she pushed him back, and with a pointing finger, Catelyn hissed at his face, “It should have been him! It should have been Jon Snow who crippled!” and Ned could not believe his ears, taking a step back. “Our little boy dreamed of being a knight. A Kingsguard. And now he won’t be able while your bastard gets the chance to be Lord!” at which Ned raised his hand ready to slap her and bring her back to reason. To stop this nonsense from coming out. But he restrained himself. It wasn’t honorable. Better leave it. However, Ned stopped when he heard what came next.

“If Brandon was here he wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“Who?” he asked, turning.

“My Brandon. Your-“

“My brother Brandon?” chuckled Ned. “You think he would have behaved differently with you?” he asked, receiving no reply from her as she was minding her business but still fuming in rage. “He would have filled Winterfell with bastard fucking all the girls he could. You would be stumbling upon bastards.”

“No. He loved me. He would have never disrespected me the way you did,” she spat back.

“Loved you? My brother only loved himself and his own desire,” laughed Ned, with hands on the hips, and turning. “He loved his siblings, yes, ready to die for them, but the woman he wanted was Barbrey Dustin, not you. He was kind to you because he knew how a lord must behave. Because he knew his duty. But he never loved you. Never even liked you.”

“Lies!” she hissed. “He fought Petyr-”

“You think he did it for you? He fought for his ego. He was just like Robert, and you would have had the queen’s fate,” was the last thing he said before leaving, not wanting for more hurtful words to come out, while Catelyn ranted at him and headed to his son’s chambers.

Chapter Text

Dany was leaning against the wall, looking up at the sky where her dragons were flying freely around the castle, unbothered by the people inside, who were looking at them with amazement and wonder while doing their mansions. However, Dany hoped they were loyal to Jon enough to not spread words about her or about the dragons, though she had some doubts about Ramsay and his retinue. 

A moon passed since the wildling attack and those who took part in it were still recovering,  though they were getting better. Jon came to his castle rarely, preferring to stay at the harbor with part of the men, building the place that was taking form by now, and Dany was kind of disappointed in that regard. She hoped that she could talk with him and sort out those rifts that came between them because of her status and their stubbornness, but sadly she hadn’t had the chance, not to mention that she did not have the chance to apologize for her words that day that she could not forget, but at the same time wanting for him to apologize too.

Suddenly, Dany heard Doreah say, “They grow up by every day that passes it seems.”

“But not big enough to take me away from here.”

“From here? I thought-“

“Yes. That’s what I thought too, but maybe my choice was wrong. Too rushed. Maybe I chose the wrong brother,” Dany said, not believing that she was voicing those words because in truth she wasn’t meaning them. “I wish I was a dragon, Doreah. I wish I could fly and reach the moon,” Dany continued while looking up at the moon that was appearing in the reddish sky.

“Home,” the girl said, leaning too and resting her chin on her palms, looking up.

“Hm?”

“A Qartheen trader once told me that dragons came from the moon,” Doreah said, picking up her curiosity. “He told me that there had been two moons once, but one of them wandered too close to the sun and it cracked from the heat.”

“Why did the trader tell you this story?” asked Dany, receiving a shrug of shoulders as a reply. “Do you think it was true?”

“I don’t know. Men like to talk when they are happy. That’s what I did before the magister bought me for your brother,” Dorhea said, and Dany looked down, hearing the girl whisper, “Maybe that’s the missing piece between you too, princess. To live happily.”

“And what would that be?” asked Dany, exhaling before sitting down, with her back against the stone wall, and closing her eyes.

“I don’t know. That only you can find, since he refused me,” Dorhea said and Dany’s attention snapped to the girl, pulling her down.  

“What do you mean by refusing you?”

“During the journey, I offered Lord Snow to share my bed, as they say…I think you understand what I mean,” Dorhea said, and as those words left the girl’s mouth, something inside Dany stirred. As if a wanting of burning the girl was happening, and without noticing, Morghul landed on the rail, hissing at Dorhea who backed away terrified, and the little mouth opened as if he wanted to spit fire. “No Moghul.  No sweetly,” Dany said, stopping the dragon.  “Valahd, Moghul. Valahd.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. He just got distracted,” Dany said, trying her best to reassure the girl, and sitting next to her. “He was cold as a stone, and dismissed me.”

“Who?”

“Lord Snow. I told him about my skills. Of what I can do to him. Reach level of pleasure unimaginable, but he turned me down.”

“I see.”

“Because he has feelings for you, princess,” Dorhea said, placing a hand on her knees.  “because he is in love with you.”

“Jon Snow is not in love with me,” Dany said, but feeling her cheek get warm at the mere thought of Jon being in love with her. She voiced her feelings to him when they left Winterfell, but he not so much. 

“He is, princess, and so you are.”

“What does a girl like you know about love, Dorhea. You grew up in a brothel,” Dany said but felt guilty immediately. 

“Yes. You are very right, princess. A whore doesn’t know what love is. Her work is to please those who come. Men and women. Rich and poor. Young and old. But I can talk about love because I experienced it too, despite receiving none from the other side.”

“You were a fool to believe Theon Greyjoy’s words Doreah. Ironborns care only about their pleasure.”

“I wasn’t talking about Greyjoy but about your brother Viserys. I dreamed of actually becoming his queen one day, but you know what I learned. That he loved you.”

“He didn’t love me, he lusted after me and that is far more different,“ Dany retorted, not liking what turn this conversation had taken. 

“Whenever I was pleasuring him, being with my mouth or my cunt or my ass or my tits, he always moaned your name. When he was taking me, he was whispering your name. And when he was spilling his seed inside me that even now I can still feel, it was your name on his lips.”

“Stop it! I don’t want to hear or talk about my brother,“ Dany screamed, getting up, and the dragons roared in the sky. 

“Of course. Forgive me, princess,” Dorhea apologized, before falling into silence for a moment.  Dany’s hairs started to wave in the air, sticking on her face and she knew it was time to call back the wandering dragons. “I always knew that Theon didn’t love me. That was only using me.”

“Of course he was. That’s what all Greyjoy do,” she retorted. 

“But I miss his big cock and his tongue.”

“His tongue?” chuckled Dany,  glancing behind. 

“Yes. He calls it the lord’s kiss, and it goes-“

“Enough. I no longer want to speak about this,” Dany stopped the girl not wanting to hear the rest.

“You should try with Lord Snow. Once you have a man by the balls, he will do whatever you want. What men enjoy the most besides being inside a woman is their lover sucking their cock.”

“Ewww…I have no desire neither the intention to suck a man’s….manhood,” Dany retorted, disgusted by her words, and by the thought of it.

“You shouldn’t. That’s the reason why so many Lords from Westeros has mistress and go to brothels. They-”

 “Enough!” she growled. “Go and get my chambers ready for the night. I want a hot bath to be ready, and the super served in the Great Hall. Alone.”

“Yes, my princess,” the girl said, bowing and leaving, but the damage was already there. Now Dany couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like...Jon's lips down there, or his cock in...Why was she even thinking about this? She didn’t even know how his lips taste. “Fuck! Get a hold of yourself Dany. Jon doesn’t even want that from you, let alone kiss you.”

But despite her scolding, the seed took root and it was growing. The desire of feeling him...of having him...was there, growing with every moment that passed, and Dany was sure that it won’t take long for her walls to break and give herself to him. 

Next Morning…

“You should not work, my lord,” said Tom, as Jon placed a small trunk down on the pile with the other. 

“If helping means getting this done sooner then I will help,” he replied, breathing heavily. It was almost midday and time to take a meal, and some rest since they were working since the first lights of the morning. 

As he was sitting near one of the newly made walls, where there was some shadow, and as he was eating, Jon heard a horse nickering, and in the distance, he saw her appear. The Princess. For the past weeks,  he tried to stay away from her to not get too much involved with his feelings but it was a damn tough task. When he spent the nights here with his men, Jon dreamed of her. In the most unholy and unhonorable ways. And that made him ashamed of himself. She was a princess for Gods' sake.  

When she climbed down, Daenerys greeted him, “Jon,” while sitting down before him on her knees. 

“Princess Daenerys,” he greeted her back, swallowing and taking a sip of wine, earning a deadly look from her. “Have you come alone?”

“No. Ramsay accompanied me. He wanted to the harbor,” she said, with a displeased expression, nodding at the man who was looking at what they were building. I don’t like his presence here. I don’t trust him, Jon.”

“I know. But I cannot make an enemy of him,” Jon said with look fixed on the Bastard of Dreadfort. “Besides that, he saved us on the road. I have debt of life with him.”

“How do you know that he wasn’t part of the party that attacked us?” the princess asked, to which he shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t. But if he was, why would he had done it?”

“To win your favors, maybe. Or to make you lower your guard.”

“Are you here for a reason, princess Daenerys or only to annoy me about Ramsey's intentions,” the words slipped past his lips on their own and the moment they did he felt sorry as she lowered her sight. 

“Why are you like this Jon?” he heard her ask in a very low voice but never looking at him. “When we left Winterfell I thought...I thought...I know that I shouldn’t have gone on my own...but-“

“Because it was wrong what we did in Winterfell,” he said, laying off course to her but especially to himself because he wanted to suppress the feelings, but in truth, those were his best moments.

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing and exhaled, he said, looking down, “Going on horse, being less formal than due. I shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have fooled you-“

“You fooled me?” she asked, in disbelief and hurt.

“No. Fooling wasn’t the proper word. I-“

“No, Jon Snow. Fooling is the right word for this because that is what you did to me,” she spat. “You fooled me into thinking that something was between us. That you have feelings for me, and like a foolish girl, I fell for your tricks. Lady Stark was right. All bastards are evil and treacherous,” she broke down, spiting the last words with venom before getting up and running away, breaking his heart.

This was something he had never expected from her. ‘Lady Stark was right?’ How can she say something like that knowing how the woman treated him?

“Hard is the path for those who have a broken heart,” Jon heard Tom say as he approached him. “She loves you, lord. Even a blind could see that?”

“A love that has no future. She is a princess-“

“And you a Lord. Not an unlikely match,” Tom said, as Jon took a sip. Sitting beside him, the man said, “Can I give you an advice, Lord. Don’t let that girl run away, because such a love is difficult to fight.”

“Love. How do you know this is Love? You only met her for what...Two moons?”

“It takes but a moment to understand someone, that I can say in my long life. She loves you, and you love her.”

Jon looked at Dany seeing her jump on her horse and ride away alone, again and he glanced at the builder, who nodded to go after her, and so he got up, and run to Winterstorm,  before jumping on her, and urging the horse in the direction where Dany rode.

He followed her for a few miles, north along the shores, until she stopped, and he did it too. Turning the horse, Daenerys approached, and growled, “What do you want?!”

“Talk,” he said. “I’m sorry if my words hurt you, Daenerys. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you but you need to understand it’s difficult for me what you want.”

“I want nothing from you, Jon Snow,” she hissed, turning the horse and walking away, but he following her, stopped the girl, grabbing her elbow. 

“Please, Daenerys. I no longer want to fight. Let’s sort our divergences once and for all and start things again. A second chance for our friendship.”

“Friendship?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” he said, looking down. “That’s all I can offer you for now.”

“Why?” she asked, with a cold voice, and Jon looked up, seeing Daenerys stare at him with expectations, but he didn’t reply climbing down from the horse, and after tying Winterstorm to a small trunk, he sat down on s rock to ponder on the best words to say now. 

“Because of who you are, Daenerys. If we were in Winterfell and you were still Naerys, maybe things would have been different,” he said, looking up and seeing her turn her horse ready to leave,  but Jon stopped her saying. “But I do have feelings for you.”

Turning the horse again, Daenerys climbed down and approached him, tying Snowmane where Winter was. “What did you say?”

“I have feelings for you, Daenerys. Feelings that I had never experienced before. That I never felt for any girl before. Feelings that I can’t understand and that I try to suppress because...I don’t know how to deal with them. Every night I struggle to sleep because I can't stop thinking about you.”

She stood in silence for all the moment of his break down betraying no emotion on her face, but Jon knew that she was left baffled by his words as he was by his admissions. However, before he could even react, the princess climbed on his lap, wrapping her arms around him, and sealing her lips to his without hesitation. 

They stayed that way for a few moments, enjoying the taste of each other, before Daenerys pulled away, breathing heavily, and looked around him with widened eyes,  but without saying a word. 

He, on the other hand, was baffled and overwhelmed by emotion. His mind went off for a moment and Jon couldn’t understand what happened or how they reached that point,  however, what he knew was that he already was missing the touch of her sweet lips on his.  His heart was hammering in his chest as they looked at each other, and he heard her breathe his name, “Jon..”

But he silenced her with his lips and this time he dared to go further, starting to kiss her slowly, brushing his tongue against her lips, before feeling them part and their tongue touch. 

Daenerys was arching her back as he deepened the kiss, and feeling his cock too hard in his breeches. 

The Princess moaned in his mouth, starting to move her hips, rubbing on his hardness, and Jon knew it was time to stop. So he broke the kiss, pushing her down from his lap, earning a confused look from her. “What is it?”

“We can’t. I can’t,” he said, getting up and starting to approach the shores, feeling how his hardness was fading, but not the embarrassment. She felt it. He knew she felt it and he was ashamed of that. Of not being able to control himself.

“Why can’t we? You want me, and I want you,” he heard her say, approaching. “I felt it, Jon. Why can’t we?”

“Because I’m a bastard,” Jon breathed, closing his. “Bastards are evil and treacherous,” he said turning and seeing Daenerys lower her head. “Yes, Daenerys. Bastards are evil, cruel, heartless, and treacherous. They use girls as they pleased, shaming them with their seeds,  especially when it comes to princesses because they ate the forbidden fruit that everyone desires.”

“Stop it! Stop it!” he heard her say. “Why are you behaving like this with me Jon?” she asked, as some tears come down.  “I’m sorry if my words hurt you before...it’s one of my biggest flaws not ponder the words I say-“

“But you were right, Daenerys, and if one day you will claim the Iron Throne, you should have no ties with a bastard,” he said, and as those words were leaving his mouth  Jon could feel his heart cracking in half. 

“What makes you think that is what I want?” she asked, with a  cracking voice.

“Your dragons. They will grow, Daenerys, and one day the whole world will know of them. Will know of you. And they will force your hand, be it you like it or not.”

“And what does that have to do with what we feel for each other?”

“Because if you are with a bastard they will not support you, Daenerys. My presence would sully your name, your reputation, and-“

“I don’t care. I don’t care about any of them, Jon,” she said, coming to him, and placing both hands on his cheek, but he broke from her turning. “Please, look at me. Look at me, Jon,” he heard her plead but he didn’t, because if he did, they would end in the same way as before, or even worse and this time, Jon knew he will not be able to hold back. “Would you believe me more if I drop down to my knees before you and suck your cock?”

Jon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as the image of the Princess Daenerys Targaryen kneeling before his cock, ready to pleas him appeared in his mind, but when he turned, Jon couldn’t believe that she wanted to really do it, and as he felt her hands on his breeches, trying to untie him, Jon immediately grabbed her hands, stopping the princess. 

“Why are you stopping me? I want to”

“No, Daenerys. I’m not that kind of man,” he said helping her up. “I know that many would be happy to be in my place right now, but I’m not ready for that.”

“Then for what you are ready?” she asked, crossing her arms and sulking.

“To make you happy. What would make you happy?”

“You know what would,” she retorted, but he shook his head. “Many Queens and Princess from my House before me were able to wield a sword. I want to learn it too.”

“I will teach you. We will start tomorrow. In the marrow.”

She nodded, half smiling, but Jon knew she did it to hide the storm that was happening inside, her, so he pulled her in an embrace, receiving no reaction from her thought. 

Dany could not sleep all night. Too excited for the morning training that she hoped will start despite Jon not being up yet, and as she was breaking her meal, alone, Dany wondered how she would fair this first day? Would she disappoint Jon or he will be proud of her?

“Sȳz ñāqes, dārilaros,” she heard someone say, and looking behind, saw that it was Jon, smiling.  

“I see you remember my lessons, Jon Snow.”

“It’s hard to forget, but at the same time is hard to remember,” Jon said, as the girl, Tom’s daughter, Jeyne, brought the breakfast. 

“You are good,” she reassured him, and as he started eating, Dany asked, taking a sip of water. “When do we start?”

“As soon as I’m finished,” he said, and she bit her lower lip. Of course.  How could she be so stupid? Then, looking up at him, Dany said, “What about the Wall. When can we go? You said he is an old man. I don’t want him to die without first knowing me, Jon. He is my last kin.”

“A few days, Dany-“

“Dany?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, becoming. 

“I’m sorry. It came on its own.”

“No. It’s not that...it’s just...it has been months since I last heard it...my brother...he was usually the one to call me that way,” Dany stammered, as she tried to hold at bay the emotion. Guilt. Anger. Disappointment. All in one.

“Oh...all right...No Dany,” Jon said, looking down. “It’s just...it was easy to say...” he continued,  before looking up at her. “I don’t mean that Daenerys is a bad name. On contrary. I love it, and the sound of it...It’s just that ...I tried to come out with something shorter and quicker. You know. If the situation occurs-”

“I know. And I’m not mad at you  Jon,” she said, placing her hand on his. “I actually like the way you say it.”

And he smiled, never breaking their eyes contact, before returning his attention to his plate, “Now let’s finish the food, and then start the training.”

However, Dany suddenly become serious, and while playing with what was left on her plate, asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Hm?”

“About what happened the previous day. Near the shores. Our kiss.”

“Try not to think,” he blurted, and she was saddened because she never ended up thinking of it, However, she decided to not push him further. 

The morning was pleasant this day, with the sun burning in the sky more than usual, and Jon thought this was the perfect moment to start, especially for a southern girl like her who was more accustomed to warmer weather. 

“Where do we start?” the princess asked with great excitement while resting her hands on the pommel of the sword. A pair of dark brown breeches and a sleeveless tunic he had borrowed her, but they were large for her. “Jon?”

“Yes,” he shook his head, after this moment of distraction in admiring her. “We need to stretch our body first. Get it ready for the spare.”

“But in a fight, you don’t have the time to get ready.”

“Yes. But in the heat of a fight, there are different aspects that come in,” Jon said as he got ready, and Dany followed him. They did for a few more moments until he was sure that she was ready, and stepping next to her, Jon said, “Now follow my moves. First, I will teach you the basics, then, when you are ready, we will face each other.”

“I’m not a rookie, Jon. I saw the boys train, and I saw you fight. Don’t go easy on me,” the Princess said, and Jon raised an eyebrow at her statements but nodded. If she thinks she is already ready, so be it. He will put her to the test.

Stepping before her, he took his usual fighting position, and she did too, mimicking him, with a smile on her face. 

Easily he started to attack her, and Dany tried to pair the blows, in her own way, before he gave her a chance to strike back as they usually did with his brother and Theon. She was good for a rookie, but still not as good as she thinks she was, because, in a real fight, she would be dead by now. Slowly,  he started to increase the intensity of the fight, and when he saw she was getting along well, decided to not hold back until he let himself drive too much by the heat, and disarm her.

“Dead,” he said with blade under her throat, before pulling away. “Maybe we should do it slowly.”

“Yes, I think that too,” she said breathing heavily.  The effort she put in was far too much and they were still at the beginning. 

A few hours later…

“I made a fool of myself, didn't I? I thought I know something, but in truth I don’t,” she said,  sitting on the bench, panting and looking at him. Sweet was coming down her face, her hairs were a mess, but she was still beautiful

“No, you didn't. You were much better than most beginners I've seen,” Jon reassured her,  and Dany looked down, blushing, before stretching her back with arms up, saying, “My body is sore. I need a hot bath and some rest.”

“With that, I can help you,” Jon said, grinning, giving her a cup of water to quench the thirst, at which the princess retorted with a raised eyebrow, and taking a sip, “You do?”

He nodded to follow him and the princess did, though his heart was hammering in his chest.  His body was on fire. But especially his cock was hard because he knew what will happen next. Or rather, he hoped it wouldn’t happen. 

After taking the key from his chambers, Jon lead her towards the cave under the castle,  and heard her ask, “Where are we going, Jon? I hope not the dungeons.”

“You will see,” he replied, chuckling, and stopping before the great door. Unlocking it and opening it, Jo said, stepping aside, “After you.”

She gave him a confused look but obeyed, entering in, while he picked up one of the torches on the walls, and closed the door behind.  

This is the hotspring I told you about,” he said approaching the torches that were on the walls inside and lighting them up. “In Winterfell, it’s bigger and deeper into the ground, or at least I think.” However, once he was done and turned Jon’s heart almost stopped. She freed her hears of the braid and  was starting to undress. He immediately turned, embarrassed by the situation, prying the gods that she didn’t notice that he saw her, and heard her entry into the water, dipping the head, before remerging.

“Will you join too?” he heard her ask, and swallowing, Jon turned shaking his head. 

“Not now,” he said, seeing her wet skin glow in the dark waters, lightened by the torches.  

“The water is very warm,  though if I may say, I loved it hotter. I think it’s because of my dragon blood,” she said, as Jon heard her swimming in the small pool. “How is it possible for it to be here?”

“I don’ know. But there are many in the north.  Especially beyond the Wall,” Jon said, sitting on the edge. “ Thought I was surprised as you when I found it.”

“What are those shining stones on the walls?”

“Dragonglass,” replied Jon looking up and grateful, though his cock was still hard as a sword. 

“Dragonglass?”

“Yes. At least that is what the envoy from the Iron Bank said,” Jon replied before silence dropped over them. An awkward silence, caused by something expected, but that nevertheless embarrassed him. He should know how to control himself since she wasn’t the first one he saw naked, but on that occasion, he had the chance to run away. Now it was more difficult. Especially if he didn't want to make a fool of himself.

Jon dare to take a look at her, seeing Dany on the other side, leaning against the edge with closed eyes and resting her head on it. If Robb or Theon were in his stead right now, they would have already been in there and maybe even flirting with her as they did before his arrival the moment she opened her eyes and noticed him ogling at her, Jon immediately looked down, feeling as if his cock was about to explode in his breeches and so getting up quickly,  said, “I’m going to bring you something clean,” before leaving quickly.  

The moment he left, Dany sighed smiling. She was glad that the heat of the water and the darkness of the cave covered her blush because if he had noticed Dany really didn’t know how she would have behaved or what excuse would have made. At least now she can use the excuse of the hot water. 

Dany knew that this wasn’t proper behavior for a lady or a princess, but she couldn’t help. She wanted to see Jon’s reaction to her in that way since Viserys has always said she was an ugly girl, and that no one would like her or love her. However, she did not care about what other thought of her, but only about Jon’s.

Turning, Dany placed her arms on the edge, to hold herself and resting her chin on them started to think on the matter and what to do. She felt guilty for teasing him this too much. It was cruel from her part and maybe one day she will ask his forgiveness, but for now, she sees how it will continue.

She didn’t want to push him as Robb tried to do with her because it would mean hypocrisy since she voiced her opposition,  but in this case, the feelings were returned. 

While waiting for his return, Dany looked at the walls full of Dragonglass again and remembered something that Viserys told her. The old Targaryen kings and dragon lords used the Dragonglass to ornate their weapons,  their armors, and some the crowns. Maybe one day she could ask Jon permission to craft something. 

To pass the time, Dany swam, sang, and talked to herself, but he seemed to take it a bit too much. More than expected. Then her mind wandered to other went to that moment of the previous day, and Dany started thinking about the kiss. First, it came from her side, sending a jolt through her whole body after the first touch, but the fire was fuelled from his side when he kissed her back. His tongue brushing against hers, and the hard manhood under her. It was difficult to keep her instinct at bay in that moment, despite her body going on its own.

“I’m sorry. It took more than expected,” she heard her say, as he brought a sheet, to dry her wet body. He did not look at her, when she got out and placed the sheets on her shoulders, moving away the moment he was freed.

“Now it’s your turn, Jon Snow,” she said, seeing him shake his head. 

“Later.”

“Why? Are you afraid of me?”

“Daenerys,” he warned her, still with his back turned, as she started to get dressed, and once ready, she said, “Then I will leave you to your bath, Lord Snow,” before leaving the cave, disappointed to not having had the chance to see his hard muscles and brood chest.

Chapter Text

“Right up, left down,” he said, as he attacked, letting Dany know where he was going, as she paired. “Good. Very good. Now, look carefully, Dany. Carefully.”

“Left down, right up, right right,” and she fell into his trap, as Jon went the other side, disarming her, and settling the blade under her chin. “Dead.”

“It’s not fair,” she complained, as Jon pulled away. “You said right, but went from the other side.”

“Yes. My tongue said that, but my eyes didn’t. It was cruel from me, yes, but it was a new lesson to learn, Dany,” he said, placing his hand on her chin. “Never trust words, sweet Dany.” 

And she nodded, before they got back in position, “Now. Show me what you learned today.”

They trained till dusk until she was completely exhausted. “You are getting better,” Jon said, smiling when she disarmed him and was pointing her sword at him. 

“But still a long way to go before being ready to face a true enemy,” Dany said, panting, as they moved to the table, filling two goblets of water, and giving one to her. 

“Don’t worry. You will get better,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she smiled, blushing while looking down. 

sitting down on the bench, and sipping from her cup, Dany asked, “What are the weak spots of an armor?”

“Hm?”

“If one day I’m going to fight a knight, I want to know where his weak spots are to defeat him.”

And taking a sip, Jon sat next to her. “Well, it all depends on how you will face him. Knights usually fight on foot because a horse is very expensive. But if you see one on the horse, the first thing you should remember is to bring him down, so better if you don’t face him alone. One can kill the horse, the other will put his attention to the knight.”

“And once down?”

“Well. The weak points are the neck if you manage to knock him down on his back and pierce or with the sword or with a dagger. Then there is the groin.”

“Only that?” she asked with eagerness.

“No,” Jon chuckled, taking another sip. “Arm. Or should I say under the arm.” And as those words left him, Jon wondered if he should tell her about her brother and King Robert.

“What is it? You seem pensive.”

“That’s where your brother hurt King Robert,” Jon said, daring to glance at her, and seeing Dany change of mood, almost angry. “I mean the usurper.”

“I don’t want to talk about the man that destroyed my family,” she said, getting up, but he stopped her. “I’m sorry. I didn't want to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, Jon. I just don’t want to talk about the man that left me alone in this world,” she said, freeing herself. “With your permission, I am now going to take a bath in the hot spring, and feed my dragons.”

Jon saw her walk away, and sighed. One step forward, and ten back. Every time he opens his mouth for words that should not be spoken, they come out and he ends up hurting her. Such a fool he is.

“Another spare, Snow?” he heard the bastard of the Dreafort ask, as he approached with a short sword and an axe.

“Not today. The sun is setting and I have duties to attend,” Jon said, getting up, and heading inside, however, on his way, he saw Tom’s daughter, who bowing, said, “Ser Jorah wants to see you, Lord.”

“Thank you, Meliana,” he said, heading for the knight’s rooms, who was still recovering after the wilding attack. He was really in bad condition because of the bear, and Jon had to bring a Maester from Bear Island to treat him.

After knocking and being granted entrance, Jon got it, “You wanted to see me, Mormont?”

 “Yes. Come. I want to give you something,” he said, and Jon saw him take the sword that was near him. “This is Longclaw. A valyrian bastard sword that belonged to my house for five hundred years. It should have been mine, as Lord of Bear Island, but when I shamed my House by selling 

“I don’t understand what you are trying to say, Ser.”

“When my father give it back to me, I vowed to use the sword to protect the Princess, but for now I cannot. I want you to wield it in my steady. TO protect the princess when I cannot,” Mormont said, handing him the sword. 

Jon hesitated for a moment, before taking it and unleashing the sword, and revealing the dark steel of the sword, while the pommel had a bear head.

“If I remember correctly, you already wielded it once.”

“I did. I kill the snow bear with it,” he said. “I swear to use it to protect the Princess,” he continued, pulling it back. “Now rest, Ser. We will be away from the Castle for a long time because the Princess wants to see her last Kin.”

The man nodded, and Jon left, returning back to his room.

Hours later…

Dany was finishing combing her hair before the new mirror that Jon brought to her with many other pieces of furniture that he gifted her. The dragons were deep asleep and now she was ready to get under the furs too, however, stopped when she heard a knock at the door.

She approached it, and opened it, only to be greeted by Jon’s beautiful smile. “Yes?”

“May I enter?” he said, and she nodded, stepping aside, smiling, wondering why he was here so late, and only at that moment did Dany see that he had something wrapped in his arms, and placed it on the bed.

“What is that?” she asked, approaching but Jon did not reply, only nodded towards the thing, smiling, and so she approached it, unwrapping it. It was something white as she could spot. A white fur and she glanced at him. “What is this?”

“A fur coat made of the snow bear’s fur that attacked you,” he said, before becoming serious. Gone was the excitement that till now was there. “But you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that…it’s just…you fill me with gifts Jon, and…” she stopped lowering her head and sighed, before sitting down, “I feel guilty, Jon…because I have nothing to gift you.”

“Do you think that is why I’m doing this?”

“No one makes gifts without expecting something in return, Jon,” she mumbled, brushing her fingers over the soft fur. “I learned it during our time in exile. Illyrio hosted us and wanted to help us because he knew that my brother would have rewarded him once king. The Khal would have given my brother an army in exchange for me. Nothing is given in this world, without something in exchange.”

“Well, I’m not like any of those men, Daenerys,” he said, kneeling and looking up at her. “I don’t expect and neither expected something in return for those gifts because that is the meaning of a gift in my word, Dany.”

And Dany smiled, placing one hand on his cheek, caressing it, before he got up saying, “Besides that, it’s not that I’m gifting you a useless thing. I’m giving you something you needed and will need if you will live in the north. A horse and a furcoat for the begin,” he added, smiling before stretching himself, “And it’s not like one day you won’t be able to make a gift to me.”

At that she immediately got up wrapping her arms around his body, and resting her head on his chest, “That’s something you can bet on, Jon Snow.”

And Dany felt her embrace being returned, as she looked up at him, seeing Jon gaze back at her with his beautiful grey eyes. She felt so safe in his arms. Shielded from any danger that may occur, but still that small step needed to be taken, and it need to be her the one who take charge. 

Biting her lower lips, Dany brought her arms up his chest around his neck, and rising on her tiptoe she kissed him. To her surprise, there was no opposition on his part, as he returned her kiss and not only that. He deepened it, and their tongue started battling for dominance.

Something inside her awakened at that moment. Something she never felt before.  A craving.  A desire. She wanted him. She wanted to find out if he truly was her shadow lover in bone and flesh before her. 

So, without hesitation, Dany started to pull him down with her on the bed, receiving a yelp from him, followed by laughs when he fell above her. Dany joined him in the laughs, feeling his hand rest on her belly, while she brushed some locks from his face, never breaking their eye contact. He was so handsome and young, and…Gods, she was lost at words. At that moment, as she was looking at him, Dany wondered what their children would look like should they have them one day. A daughter with his dark curls and her amethyst eyes? Or a son with her Targaryen's traits, but his father’s eyes?

Dany pulled him down for another kiss, and as they did it, Dany felt his hand move to her thigh, groping her.

They both were breathing heavily as their tongues battled, and Dany felt the heat and excitement flow through her whole body. His hardness through his breeches, pressed against her moisten place, made her moan, as she rubbed herself against him. Gods, she wanted so much to have him inside her. To feel him fill her. A good sensation it was, according to Dorhea, and she wanted to experience it with him. Only with him.

Jon groaned, groping her, ass, and breasts and Dany must say that she loved his hand on her, but would love it even more if they were touching her skin, not through her nightgown. But suddenly he broke away, and getting up said, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” she asked, panting, and immediately raising up, and turning his face so that he could look at her. “Why not? You want this too, Jon. I can feel it. I know you do, as I do.”

“I do. Of course I do,” he breathed, bringing his hand to her chin, brushing his thumb over her lower lip. “I do, and I pray to all the gods that they give me the strength to hold back because I don’t want you to make a mistake.”

“Mistake?” she asked, confused.

“Yes. I don't want you to regret this choice one day, Daenerys. A mistake that you made in a moment of weakness without being able to change,” he said, leaving Dany baffled. She could not believe that they were again in this argument after she made many and many times clear that she didn’t care what others think. She wanted only him.

Leaning Jon kissed her and wished her a good night, before getting up and heading towards the door, while Dany needed a few moments to recover from this before the dragon inside her woke up, and stopping the door from open, said, with a hand resting on it and eyes full of fiery and determination, “I'm tired of this back and forth, Jon Snow. I'm not giving you any more of this.”

“Dany-“

“No, Jon,” she said, pushing his hand away when he tried to touch her. “I want honesty from you and no more of this horseshit of an excuse because I showed you where my feelings are. What I feel for you. What I want. Now your turn.  Make a choice and put things clearly.”

“Daenerys-“

“Enough with this ‘Daenerys’,  Jon! I'm tired of all these antics! Say your thoughts and be done with it!”

“Yes, Daenerys. Yes! I want it and I fear it!” he shouted. “I fear what may come next,  Daenerys. I am a bastard! You may don’t care about that, but the world does. Westeros does. Already words about my clash with Robb are spreading across the North and soon all Westeros will know.”

“You keep talking about this, avoiding the gist of our conversation. I’m tired of this excuse,” Dany retorted, moving to the door and opening it, said. “Now leave, Lord Snow. Take your gifts, take your shits and leave me alone.”

And he did as she asked, taking the furcoat, and as he was leaving, she, added,  “Make sure that in the marrow a carriage is ready for me, Lord Snow. I want to leave for Winterfell.”

“You can’t.”

“I can’t?” She chuckled, crossing her arms. “And why can’t I, Lord Snow?”

“My father-“

“I don’t care what your father said, Lord Snow. I will choose the place where I will live, and by the recent events I would say that Winterfell is much better than this…shithole,” she said stopping him and taking a step closer. Those were harsh words she said, but he needed to be pushed. “And your brother is much more wise and brave than you are, Jon Snow. Not to mention a better lover that knows what a woman wants.”

Her words seem to have stirred something inside him as his look became dark and unpredictable. The jaw settled and she could notice the fist squeezing on the fur he was holding. Good! Very good. If he didn’t want to understand in the gentle way, then she will use the rough way with him.

So, taking another step closer, that made him stand only an inch from her, she whispered,  “Your brother voiced his mind to me, Jon Snow. He made it very clear the feelings he had for me. He was brave I must say, and I like that in a man. It's something you seem to lack. But what can I expect from a bastard who hides in the shadows..”

Not a word she believed what was said, but this was the only way to make him take the step and accept the feelings he was denying.

Yet he did not move. He showed no reaction to her words and Dany, resigned to her decision, turned to go back inside. However, Jon stopped her, grabbing Dany by the wist, and colliding her back with his chest he whispered, “Is this what you want, princess? Being fucked by a bastard? Being claimed by the White Wolf of Maghtall? That when Westeros finds out about the last daughter of House Targaryen they will learn her holly place had been claimed by the bastard? That is what you want, Princess?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and without hesitation, Jon turned her in the place, colliding his lips with hers and kissing her roughly, like a ravaging wolf.

Dany found it difficult to keep with him. He was devouring her, and while groping her ass, Jon was pushing her inside. Slamming the door behind, Jon took her up in his arms,  making Dany yelp, and wrap her arms and legs around his body.

He brought her to the bed, laying her on it, and roughly kissed her, on the lips on the jaws, biting her earlobes, whispering filthy words that were feeding her arousal before turning his attention to her neck. Biting and sucking, marking her as his. Dany knew that on the morrow,  everyone will know what happened to her when they see, but she didn’t care. She waited too much for this.

Suddenly Jon pulled away, panting, and rising on his knees between her legs and looking at her with lust. She did the same and felt his hands at the v-neck of her nightgown, tearing it completely apart and revealing her naked body beneath.

He stopped, gazing at her and no longer panting, making Dany finally realize what happened. Because of the heat of the moment, she did not realize what he was doing, and now, completely exposed to him, Dany felt her courage fade away, her heart stop, and her head turns.

“You are an ugly girl, sweet sister, that no lord or knight will love or choose you, and a savage old warlord is the best you can hope to have,”   her brother’s words appeared in her head, and Dany felt tears come down, with the urge to cover herself. And that’s what she did, snuggling away from him, and curling into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Dany? What is it? Did I hurt you?” he asked in a worried voice, making her shake her head.  “Then why are you crying.”

But she didn’t reply.  It was a silly reaction from her part, that destroyed this beautiful moment, but she could not help. Viserys‘ words made her suddenly insecure.

She felt him cover her with the tore nightgown as he laid next to her,  pulling her closer, and stroking her back. She started sobbing as he was squeezing her to his chest,  and she didn’t know how to react to this. Dany felt guilty because she was the one to push, and now she was withdrawing like a coward because of her insecurity. An insecurity brought up by Viserys. “An ugly girl you are!” Of course Jon doesn’t want her. Who would want an ugly girl as a wife? They would use her, of course, and then throw her away.”

He let her calm down  and once the sobbings were gone, Dany heard him say, in the most soft way she has ever heard him address her, ”What is it, Dany?”

She shook her head, keeping her eyes closed,  not wanting to see his disappointed expression, but, he insisted, lifting up her chin and leaning to kiss her forehead, and caress her cheek in a very gently way. “You can tell me everything, Dany. We are friends. You can trust me.”

She opened her eyes, seeing them blurted for a moment, before stroking them and saying in a raspy voice, “It’s something my brother told me…that I…that no one will ever love me…that no one will choose me…”

“What?” He chuckled. “Why would he say such things?”

“Because I’m ugly, Jon!” she said chocking a sob and turning in his embrace.

He burst into a laugh, and that made her break down, even more, squeezing her eyes, but in vain. The tears were already streaming down. 

“Dany, Dany, Dany. If you say such words, then you are unaware of how beautiful you are,” she heard him whisper as he pulled her to his chest. “I saw many northern ladies and even some southern ladies, but no one of them was as beautiful as you are.”

“You are lying.”

“Why would I?” he asked, turning her face so that she could look at him. “I never laid in my life Daenerys, and I have no intention of doing it now. Yes, you may say that I did not see a lot of ladies, and that my judgment is clouded by my feelings, but that is what I think. I think you are the most beautiful girl in this world and those who deny it, are either jealous or-“

She did not let him finish,  pulling him down for a kiss. Yes. Fuck Viserys and his words. And fuck the world’s opinion about her. Only Jon’s opinion matters to her. If he was finding her beautiful, then she must be. In his eyes she was beautiful.

Breaking, he said,  resting his forehead against hers, “Now get some rest. In the morrow, we leave for the Wall.”

“Really?” and he nodded, kissing her one last time before, getting. “Where are you going?”

“To my chambers,” he chuckled, but she stopped him.

“Stay with me. Please,” she plead, and he nodded, starting to get rid of his breeches and tunic, but staying in his shirt and small clothes, before getting under the covers with her. Dany was aware of her nakedness but hoped he won’t mind it, though the night was unpredictable.

Jon could not sleep much that night because of his treacherous body that was going on its own, and feeling her naked body against his clothed one, made his cock hard as a sword in the morning. He really needed a release, but he feared waking her up because that would be a catastrophe. She would see his condition and after her outburst…Jon didn’t know what will be her reaction.

Resting his head on his elbow, Jon looked at her peaceful expression, brushing some locks from her face, and caressing her soft skin, earning a sleepy moan from Dany. However, he cannot resist any longer. And so, slowly,  pulling away,  Jon tried to snuggle away,  only to stop upon hearing her say, “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Your…arousal,” she said, turning.

“Ehm…it’s…I…” he didn’t know how to reply, feeling that his whole body was on fire, from head to toe. “I need to go.”

But she did not let him get up, placing her hand on his belly, and gazing straight into his eyes. They were full of lust, and fear and only gods know what else, and Jon’s mind raced through different scenarios that may happen right now. Theon had always said that when something like this happen when her hand was there, she was about to take you to the seven heavens.

Dany slowly moved her hand downwards and placed it on his hard member. At the contact, his cock immediately jolted, despite being tight in his small clothes, and Jon prayed the Gods not to come like a green boy.  

Slowly, she palmed him, and whispering, asked, "May I?"

And Jon nodded, swallowing and feeling his throat dry, while Dany got up to help him remove his small clothes. This gave him a chance to admire her beautiful breasts again like before, but now with a better view. They weren't big, but Jon was sure they would fit perfectly in his hands.

The moment he was freed, his cock sprung free, hard like a sword, and hurting. The foreskin was still covering half of the tip, with the pricing on it. 

Dany looked at him, with curiosity and amazement, as if being afraid to touch him, while Jon, on the other hand, was all in pain, because he really need this damn release.

“Dany-” he started only to stop when she wrapped her hand around his shaft, and slowly started to move it up and down, making Jon groan and close his eyes while resting against the headbed. Gods! What a feeling. It was a completely different feeling than when he was doing it himself, and when she brushed her thumb over the tip…he lost it, as she kept stroking him till he was completely off, and no longer hard.

“Fuck!” Jon cursed, panting while opening his eyes, only to see Dany look at his messed cock with widened eyes, and at the same time, with curiosity. 

He felt ashamed for what happened at that moment, especially because he could spot some cum on her hand and on her naked skin. Quickly, Jon took off his shirt and cleaned Dany of the mess he made.

“Dany…I’m sorry…I…I should have warned you,” he stammered, not knowing what else to say, as he quickly bucked himself back. “I…I will send someone to get you ready a bath…I…” but he only run away without another word, after having gathered his belongings.

Once ready, Jon was waiting in the courtyard for Dany to appear, though he didn’t know how will he be able to look the princess in her eyes after having made a fool of himself. After having shamed her in such an unworthy way.

The moment she appeared, all cleaned, her hair braided and in the white fur coat he gifted her, Jon was left speechless. If before she was the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, now..now she looked like a goddess.

“Jon,” the princess greeted him with a smile, as if what happened in the morning never happened, and that was paining him because Jon didn’t know how to forget her. How to forget her hand on his cock, stroking…Gods Jon! Stop!

“Dany.  Before you go, I want you to know what you may face there. The Night's Watch no longer consists of honourable men and old knights, but of vile men. Cutthroats, rapists, thieves, people who had no place in the Seven Kingdoms. You are a girl, very charming and delightful, capable of awakening that hidden instinct in every man. Never leave my side.”

“I won’t. I promise,” she said, kissing him before he helped her up on the horse. He still couldn’t believe at all this. That a princess fell for him. That a princess loves him. A bastard. It all seemed so surreal. And if he didn’t know her, he would have thought she was playing with him. But she didn’t. And that is why he loved her.

Three days of riding took them to reach the Wall, and Dany stopped on the hill when the mighty wonder appeared in the view. Stretching from coast to coast, for three hundred miles, and it was tall, seven hundred feet, according to  Lomas Longstrider in his book of Wonders Made by Man. She always loved that book when she grew up under Ser Willem's care and dreamed to see them one day. Now, one of them was before her and it was magnificent.

She still couldn’t believe that it stood there for eight thousand years without being taken down by someone.

“Built by Brandon the Builder after the Long Night to keep the Wight Walkers away from the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon said as he stopped next to her.

“Do you think it works?”

“I don’t know. Will said that they returned yet they did not cross the wall. Either is a lie, or the Wall indeed is working," Jon said as Dany kept looking at the wonder. “Come. Let’s not duel further. The night is coming and it would be better to be inside the walls rather than in an open field since there isn’t shelter around.”

She followed him right behind, with Edd and Grenn, who were coming with the horses that were carrying the three dragons. Dany didn’t know how they would react to Maester Aemon, but if they accepted Jon, who isn’t a Targaryen, there was no reason for them to not accept a Targaryen.

It took a few more moments for them to reach Castle Black, with dusk already gone, and the horns of Castle Black announcing their arrival, and the gates open, showing the inside of the castle. Jon glanced at her, before urging his horse forward. Everyone's eyes were on her, looking with curiosity, and not only, because Dany knew the reason for their reaction. 

When their horse stopped, Dany got down too, and saw Benjen Stark come in Jon’s way, with a smile, and hug him, however, she could see he whispered something to him, that made Jon become very serious, and when he approached her, Jon whispered, “Tyrion Lannister is here.”

“Lannister?!” she whispered, eyes snapping to him, and her heart started to race in her chest. They shouldn’t have come so soon here. If a Lannister was at the wall and saw her, then the Usurper will find out too.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, hugging her to his chest. “I will let no one harm you Dany. I swear. Be they be lions. Be they be stags. Be they be the gods themselves. She wrapped her arms around his body too, squeezing his tunic from behind, though his words did not ease her worries.

Breaking away, Jon took her hand, and they walked towards an old sturdy man, who was cradled all in black.

“Lord Commander. May I introduce you, Lady Naerys Storm,” Jon said, not revealing her true identity, and she glanced at him, before returning her attention to the Lord Commander. “Lady Naerys. This is Lord Commander Jeor Mormont.”

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Naerys," the old man bowed. "Forgive this old man's rough manner, but spending year after year, at the Wall and without having any interaction with a lady, have rusted them."

"There is no need for forgiveness, my lord. Your manners are well suited," she said, hoping not to sound rude. "Are you Ser Jorah's father?"

"Aye, but I see he is not with you," the old man said, glancing behind them before casting a glance at Jon, "but his sword is at your sides."

"Aye, and for that, I would like to speak with you privately," Jon replied, and the Old Bear nodded, as they followed after Jon whispered something to his uncle.

Once in the Lord Commander's solar, Jon said, taking a swig of ale, "The reason I am carrying your son's sword is that he entrusted it to me. He told me the oath he swore to you, and that oath involves the lady that is here present," nodding towards Dany, who lowered her gaze and took a sip of ale, immediately regretting because it tasted horrible. "I am wielding it for that reason as he is unavailable for now."

"Unavailable?"

"Yes. I was attacked by a group of Wildings with a snow bear with them, and your son was seriously injured trying to protect me," she replied, looking at the man, and heard the raven say, "Son! Die!"

"Is he still alive?"

"Yes. But he has a long recovery to get," Jon took the conversation back into his own hands. 

"Well, in that case, he had more than enough right to wield that sword," the Lord Commander said, with the raven that was on the table saying, "King! King!" but the Old Man ignored him. "What's the real reason you're here, Snow?"

"Maester Aemon. The lady would like to meet him, and I have something to show him."

“Well, in that case, It’s better if I accompany you to him before the old man retires for the night,” the Old Bear replied, finishing his cup, and Dany felt the heart hammering in her chest. The time has finally come. For all her life, Dany thought she and her brother were the last surviving Targaryen, but at the Wall, there is one more. 

They left the Lord Commander’s solar, following the old man, out and towards the library where Aemon was. She fiddled with her fingers, nervously, while Jon was chatting with Lord Mormont, and once they stopped, Jon turned to her, raising her chin, with a smile. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. He is a good man.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath, as the door opened and they followed the Old bear in, who said, “Maester Aemon. How are you feeling?

“Oh, like a hundred-year-old man slowly freezing to death,” she heard him say and smiled.

The old bear chuckled. “You have visitors.”

 Jon was the first one to approach, as Dany felt frozen in place, and her heart almost stopped while looking at the man. 

His silver-golden hairs now were completely white, while his eyes bore no longer the usual Targaryen colour but were white.  He was blind, and that saddened Dany because he wouldn't be able to see her.

“Maester Aemon,” Jon greeted him.

“Ahh…young Jon. It’s good to hear you again. I hope my counsels were useful for you, my Lord.”

“There were. But there is another reason of why I’m here. I brought a friend…someone who was eager to meet you.”

“Me?” chuckled the old man. “There is not much of interest in this old man.”

But Jon glancing at her, said, “Come, Dany.”

“Dany? There was a Dany who joined the watch a long time ago. She came from House Flint. Brave and gentle the poor girl was, with a cruel fate,” Maester Aemon said. “Are you from House Flint, my lady?”

“No,” Dany finally spoke, swallowing, as she sat down on the chair near her. “I’m…My name…I…” she didn’t know what to say, and glanced at Jon for help.

“Her name isn’t really Dany, but it’s more used as a shorter, Jon said, as he sat across her, on the other side of the table. “Her name is Daenerys, Maester Aemon.”

“Daenerys? That’s a Targaryen name. My grandfather’s sister was named Daenerys. She was married to a Martell Prince of Dorne, and Daemon Blakfyre rose in rebellion for her,” Maester Aemon said, as Jon took her hand. 

“Yes, Maester Aemon. In fact, she is a Targaryen. She is Daenerys Targaryen daughter of King Aerys and-”

“Rhaella,” Aemon finished, in a shaking voice as if he was about to cry. “Oh sweet Rhaella. The poor child had such a horrible fate. Forced by her parents to marry her evil brother, because of a prophecy, and then abused by him till her last days.”

And Dany felt her lips tremble, while tears fill her eyes, and swallowing the knot in her throat, Dany asked, “You knew my mother?”

“Unfortunately, not directly. But through your brother Rhaegar's letters," he said, and Dany immediately wanted to ask more, however, she stopped when he turned towards her saying while raising his hands, “May I see you?”

She glanced at Jon, confused, but he nodded, and so she leaned closer, feeling Maester Aemon place his hands on her face. They were warm and soft. The dragon’s flame was still burning inside him. 

“You remind me of my sister. Of sweet Daella,” he said as he was touching her visage, lightly, and carefully, trying to keep his emotion at bay, and not to cry, but sadly she was the one who did. Or to be more precise, the tears went down on their own. “Don't cry for those the hour is coming, child.”

Without hesitation, Dany got up and wrapped her arms around the old man, saying between sobs, “All my life I thought Viserys and I were the last Targaryens.” Breaking, she added, “Finding that this is not true fills my heart with joy and happiness, with the only regret being that I found you so late."

The old man started sobbing, as she was hugging him and Dany did the same. Now she was no longer the Last Targaryen in the world. Now she wasn’t the last Dragon. She has someone who can tough her more about their family now.

“I will leave you alone,” Jon said, getting up and leaving, while she never broke from her old lost kin. 

Jon was sitting at one of the tables inside the Great Hall, eating with his men. Now it was empty, and he was thankful for that because no one would be nosing around to find out why he was there. 

Daenerys was still with Maester Aemon, and Jon was glad because she really needed this. A kinsman she could talk to about her family, her past, who could advise her far better than he could. But above all, because she was happy. He wanted her happy because she deserved it. After a life in exile, running from the Usurper, losing everyone, and now her brother, she deserved it.

As he was drinking ale, and listening to his men’s chatting, the door of the great hall opened, letting in a cool chile that made their skin shiver, and Jon saw a small man standing there. 

“Ale and meat. Good to fill your stomach after a day on the Wall getting your balls frozen, “ the man said approaching. “You must be Ned Stark’s bastard.”

“Aye,” Jon nodded, taking a sip. “I am Ned Stark’s son and you are far from home, Lannister.”

“Ahh…I see you know who I am.”

“Everyone knows who you are. Tyrion son of the mighty Tywin of House Lannister. Known to the world as the Dwarf of Castely Rock. The only stain on the Old Lion’s name.”

“A very educated bastard, I see,” said the dwarf, before pointing to Grenn, “You, boy. Fill a cup. This dwarf is thirsty after pissing down the Wall.”

Sitting at one of the benches, with elbows resting on the table and spinning the win in the cup, Tyrion said, “I heard many stories about the Bastard of Winterfell while we were heading North. The clash he had with the heir…some say it was memorable.” The dwarf stopped, taking a sip. “But you know what was more interesting? Hearing that the bastard was in love, and not just any girl, but a descendant of the Valyrians.”

 “I don’t know what you are talking about,” blurted Jon against the edge of the cup. “The rief between me and my brother was born out of Lady Stark's hatred for me. Don't get me wrong, Lord Tyrion, she's a great woman, who loves her household and had my respect in that, but her fealty clouds her judgment and makes her see things that aren't there."

"Impressive. I've never met a bastard so clever."

"I'm a lord now."

"I heard that too," Tyrion replied, taking another sip. "And I must say, I am looking forward to seeing your lands."

“One day,” Jon said, laying of course, as he filled DAenerys’ plate with some meat, and took the jug with ale and two cups. 

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes. My wolf wants to eat too. And he is still young and ravenous,” Jon said, getting up, nodding to his men who did the same. “A pleasure to have met you.”

He went to the chambers that the Old Bear gave to him and where Daenerys will stay too, only to find it empty, or almost. Ghost was there, asleep, near the bed, while the chests were near the window. They were finally asleep, and that is what he wanted to do too, but he cannot do it without Dany. So he laid in bed with arms under his head, looking up the ceiling, and waiting patiently for Dany to arrive. 

Chapter Text

Jon stirred in his sleep as he heard a sharp hissing, and Dany said, “Shhh, Rhaegal. Keligon kick se ipradagon se parklon.” (Shhh, Rhaegal. Stop complaining and eat the meat.)

Groaning, he started to open his eyes and heard her add. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to wake you up. It’s just that they wanted out and at the same time they seem so restless here.”

“No. Everything is alright. It’s already too late for sleeping anyway,” Jon said, rising up, but still in bed, looking at the dragons who were making whims. The moment he did, however, Rhaegal flew to him, demanding his attention, and making Jon chuckle as he started caressing the green dragon. “How are you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed by emotion,” she replied, getting up as Morghul and Viserion were ravaging on the meat, before glancing at his direwolf, seeing him still sleeping near the fire that now was lit up. “I was happy. Sad. Curious. He knows so much of the history of my House, or at least much more truthful than Viserys. He studied at the Citadel. He has known many Targaryens who lived before me. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to explain the feelings."

As she laid down on the bed with head resting in her hands, Dany becomes more serious, and said, “I want to show him the dragons so much, Jon, but the presence of Tyrion Lannister complicates it.”

“Patience. I heard he will leave soon,” Jon said, caressing her cheek, the moment Rhaegal flew away, and she crawled up, kissing him, and climbing on his lap. “Daenerys-“

But she silenced him with her lips, continuing to kiss him slowly, dipping her fingers in his thick curls, while rocking her hips. His cock stirred in his small clothes because of her moves, and Jon start to run his hands up and down her slim frame, before taking hold of her hips. Their breaths increased, as well as their hearts that were racing. The kiss become more heated, and Jon was starting to lose control. He didn’t want it, but by the Old Gods, it was so difficult to resist her. He needed her. He wanted her. And he wanted to repay her kindness the morning of their leaving. 

“I want you, Jon,” she breathed, raspy, and panting, resting her forehead against his. Kissing his jaw, in a teasingly way and moving her hand to the base of his shirt. “So needy! I can no longer resist.”

Jon too was in need,  as he let the shirt slip off, and with his hands rise her nightgown, revealing her naked tights and giving him the chance to touch her soft skin, before moving them to her ass. Gods! His cock was bursting now, and when he moved one hand to her wet fold, Jon brushed his fingers against the wet lips. She was getting wet more and more.

"Jon...." she rasped his name, as he gently teased her, and Dany bit his neck while kissing him. Her nails dug in his arms, as he was building her pleasure. However, before anything could happen, a knock at the door came, and Dany groaned in complaint, as he sighed, kissing her one last time, before pushing her down, and retrieving his shirt. “Yes. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And after cleaning his hand, Jon moved to open it, cursing under his breath for whoever was destroying this moment, only to be greeted by his uncle who said, “Jon. I’m sorry if I woke you up, but was hoping that we could talk.” And his eyes drifted to Dany, who got under the furs.

“Yes. I will dress and join you,” Jon said, and Benjen nodded, leaving, while Jon closed the door behind, exhaling. “I will see what my uncle wants, and then I will return with food,” Jon said, approaching the bed, and leaning he added, “Wait for me and open to none the door,” before kissing her, but Dany pulled him down, not wanting to let him go.

A few moments later…

“Every time I come up here, I always feel like the first time,” said Benjen, as they looked out over the vast Hunting Forest. A beautiful sight to behold, with the white snow mane covering it. Jon hoped that he will have the chance to see the dusk from her with Daenerys. “Bran would have loved to see it. He always dreamed to do it one day.”

“He still can. He is young and with a long life,” Jon replied, imaging Brandon, as a young man trying to climb the wall. Lady Stark’s heart is going to stop when that happens.

“I fear he won’t,” his uncle replied, looking down.

“What do you mean, uncle?”

“Haven’t you received word about his falling?” asked his uncle and Jon shook his head, not having the strength to voice his words. “He fell from the top of the broken tower when your father and the King went hunting. Since then, he did not wake up. The Maester said if he survives, he will never walk again.”

And upon hearing that, Jon felt his knees weak, and moving backward, sat down on one of the posting benches for the watch. His little brother. Jon did not have the words and neither the strength to voice his words. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He wanted to hit something, but to what purpose? His little brother won’t walk again. Or wake.

“I'm leaving this morning, Jon.”

“What?” asked Jon, confused and still overwhelmed by the news regarding Bran. “Why?”

“I'm the First Ranger, Jon. My job is out there. There have been disturbing reports,” Benjen said, with a concerned expression while gazing at the lands beyond the wall.

“What kind of reports?”

“The kind I don't want to believe.”

“White Walkers.”

“Maybe. I will be back, don’t worry. I’m always back,” his uncle reassured him, approaching with a smile, and placing his hand on his shoulder. “How's the girl?”

“Good. But overwhelmed by emotions,” Jon replied, looking up, but still sad. “Meeting her last Kin…I’m sure everyone would feel that way.”

“What about you? I've seen that things between you are quite...advanced, compared to how it was before when I found you in the woods."

"Yes. And now I understand what you meant when I was trying to join the Watch," Jon replied, sighing. "I want a life with her, Uncle. She's the one."

"What if I tell you she's not?" his uncle retorted, at which, Jon immediately looked up at him, asking, "Why would you say that?"

"Before you take that step of no turning back, wait for your father. He has something to tell you. Something very important that may change everything," his uncle said. "But be patient. And if after that, you will still want to be with her, then, you shall be."

"But-"

"Wait for your father, Jon," Benjen said, patting his back, "And keep her away from the Lannister," before leaving Jon baffled there. He was so confused by his uncle’s words. So confused, that he didn't know what to think. He needed to go for a ride. In the Wolfswood beyond the wall. If he remembered correctly there was a Heart tree somewhere there. Jon can use it to pray.

Dany turned and twisted in bed for only the Gods know how long, but there was no sight of Jon. He went to talk with Benjen Stark but still did not return with the promised food. She was so hungry and not only of food. His hands on her skin. His kisses. His fingers on her...Gods! What a feeling.

But losing her patience, Dany got up, dressed, and with Ghost in tow, left their room, after locking it behind, so that no one finds out about her dragons, heading for the Great Hall. It wasn't a good idea to wander around on her own, but she couldn't wait for Jon every time, and there was no sight of either Edd or Grenn.

When she got to the Great Hall, Dany found it empty, and she was glad for that, however, she saw the one who was most likely the cooker appeared, and say, “You must be Snow’s Lady.”

“Yes.”

“Are you hungry?” asked the man and she nodded, sitting at one of the tables, while ghost near her, as he said smirking, “Would you like to taste the special meal I make for new recruits? Rack of lamb baked in a crust of garlic and herbs, garnished with sprigs of mint, and surrounded by mashed yellow turnips swimming in butter.”

"That sounds very delicious," said a man's voice, and Dany's head immediately turned, seeing a small man standing at the door. She did not even notice his entry. "I want a plate if you don't mind," he added, approaching. “And maybe accompanied by a mug of ale.”

“As you wish, Lord,” the man bowed, and Dany heard Ghost growl at him, while never leaving her side. “Is that animal a wolf?”

“A direwolf. His name is Ghost,” Dany replied as Ghost bared his fangs the moment the small man approached. “You must be lord Tyrion Lannister.”

“And you the girl who made the wolves lose their mind,” Lannister retorted, stopping a few steps from her. “First the head of House Stark, then the heir, but in the end, you run with the bastard.”

“I don’t know what you are referring to,” blurted Daenerys, seeing the cooker brought the plates and the cups with ale.

“You do, you do,” the man said, smiling while sitting on the seat before her. Taking a gulp, he said, “May I know your name, my lovely lady?"

"Naerys Storm," mumbled Daenerys, cutting a piece of the meat, and giving to Ghost too, while trying to keep her emotions at bay.

"Storm? Now this explains your choice,” the dwarf said, as he took a bit of meat. “And where do you come from, Lady Naerys? Stormlands?”

“No. Essos.”

“Lys?” he asked, and she nodded, taking a bit too, and loving the taste. At least it was much better than ale. "So, you are a whore. Not a surprise, but I certainly expected different choices."

"I am not a whore," she retorted, exhaling, and feeling her anger rise, but not because of his insinuations, but rather, because of who he was. A Lannister. Her sworn enemy. They wanted her dead. They killed her father and her niece and nephew.

“Apologise, lady. I didn’t mean to offend you. It is only that, at the mention of Essos, and considering your appearance, that was my first thought," The Lannister said, and Dany tried to read the man. He seemed honest in his words, but she knew that a good liar knew how to hide his true intentions.

“Well, I’m not,” Dany retorted after a few moments of silence, glancing at Ghost, who was looking up at her with expectations, licking himself, and so Dany give him another piece. She wasn't sure if tasty meat was good for wolves and Dany certainly didn't want to hurt him but seeing him waiting impatiently tail wagging... she didn't have the heart to deny him. As she fed him again, Dany asked, “What brings you to this cold place, Lord Tyrion?”

“Curiosity. I’m a very curious man, Lady Naerys. I wanted to see this mighty order, and piss down the wall,” the man replied with eagerness, taking another bit. “And because of my curiosity, I want to know more about Essos. I heard many stories about the Free Cities, but never get the chance to visit the.”

“I would say that everything you heard it’s almost the truth.”

“Yes. Almost. It’s that almost that draws my curiosity, Lady Naerys,” Tyrion Lannister said, emphasizing the word ‘almost’.

But Dany, wanting to change the argument of the conversation, asked instead, “You said that you heard about me. I suppose you visited Winterfell.”

“Lovely place, and lovely women, but if the beginning was pleasant, the journey took an unexpected turn.”

“Unexpected turn?”

“Sadly, the boy, what was his name?” the man asked himself, in a pensive way. “Ah...yes! Bran. The boy fell from one of the towers. He become a cripple.”

And upon hearing that Dany’s heart almost stopped. Cripple? He fell from the tower? How could have been possible since he was a perfect climber? Someone must have pushed him down. But who? Who could have done such a thing to a sweet little boy like him? She needed to find Jon. She needed to inform him about this. So, getting up, Dany headed for the door.

“My lady. Wait!”

But she did not stop and headed to their chambers hoping he was there.

“Jon!” she broke in after unlocking it, but it was empty. She glanced at Ghost, who followed her here, and bending said, “Can you find Jon for me, boy?” but the direwolf only looked at her, and she, getting up, went in his search, starting with the library where Aemon usually was. Maybe he went to talk with him

Upon entering, Dany saw her uncle sitting at the table, while his steward, Samwell Tarly if she remembered correctly, was sitting next to him, reading.

“Maester Aemon. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but was hoping Jon would have been her.”

“I fear he isn’t,” her uncle said, as she sighed, looking down. “But I can say where he is. Beyond the wall, there is an old Heart Tree where new recruits who follow the Old Gods swear their oaths. I suppose that after the recent news, he went there to pray. It is a few miles from here, but I would advise you not to venture alone and maybe wait for lord Snow to return.”

“You know about Bran?” Dany asked approaching.

“Yes. I’m the master of Castle Black, Lady Naerys. I read the message before delivering them to the Lord Commander.”

“But he is well, my lady,” Samwell Tarly said, intruding in their conversation. “Robb Stark informed us that the boy woke up.”

“Is it really?" she asked, hopeful, and the boy nodded, making Dany release a sigh of relief. They will have to visit Winterfell and see him, but before that, Dany said, “Maester Aemon. Could you join me in my chambers? I wish to show you something and I need your advice on what to do.”

The Tarly boy glanced between them, before looking down red as a pepper, as she approached the old man, saying to Tarly, “It’s nothing like that, Maester Samwell.”

“Oh, no. I wasn’t even thing, my lady. Forgive me if I gave that impression,” the boy said, as she helped her uncle up, who said, “There is a book that Lord Tyrion wants to read, Samwell. Tried to find it, and after that, do my mansions till my return. It won’t take long.”

And they both left the library, heading slowly towards her chambers, in silence, because here, no one could be trusted.

Once there, Dany helped her uncle on the chair near the table, while Ghost sat near the bed, before quickly locking the door, saying, “What I am going to show you, uncle, will be very hard to believe, but know that they are real.”

Her uncle did not reply, as she pulled out Viserion, the gentles of the dragons. He yawned showing that he just woke up, and as she was approaching Maester Aemon, Dany said, “I want to introduce you Viserion.”

“Viserion?” the old Maester said, raising his hand before starting to slowly lean towards them, as the dragon looked at him confused. Dany’s heart was hammering in her chest, praying to the Gods that he won’t hurt her uncle. Not a ward was said in that moment, and Dany saw Aemon stop midway, almost if he realized what was awaiting and was fearing it.

Viserion cracked a small win, looking at her, and Dany placed him down so that he was the one to take the first step. And he did. He flew up landing on the table, and Dany helped the old Maester, turn, before sweet Viserion leaned up into his touch, with closed eyes.

The moment he touched him, Maester Aemon, started sobbing, and the dragon pulled away looking confused, while the other dragons woke up too. Dany knew why he was crying, and she wrapped her arms around the old man, hugging him, as her own tears come, and heard Aemon say, “I never thought I would see dragons return to this world. Not in my lifetime. But you...Such joy you bring me, my child."

“I wish you could see him, uncle,” she said, sniffing, hugging the old man, as his whole body was shaking because overwhelmed by emotions. “There are two more dragons, uncle,” Dany said, pulling away, and heading to the chest to free the other two.”

The moment they were freed, the dragon flowed inside the room, and Viserion joined them before Morghul landed on the table, Rhaegal on the floor, and Viserion a few steps away. Ghost too joined the feast.

“Morgul is a black and red dragon,” Dany said approaching. “He is the one that I feel more bonded to, but I love all in the same way,” she continued, caressing Morghul. “The green one is Rhaegal, in honor of-“

“Rhaegar. Yes. A fit name for a dragon, and I must say, unique..”

“He is wild sometimes, but very attached to Jon…which is strange because he isn’t a Targaryen,” Dany said, caressing the dragon, before looking up at Aemon who was in silent, as he tried to touch Morghul. "Maybe it was because of my feelings for him."

"He is a good boy, but sometimes honor clouds his judgment," Aemon replied, and Dany couldn't agree more. “And Viserion after Viserys I suppose.”

“Yes. I know you may disapprove of this choice, uncle, but at the end of the day, I owe him my life. He raised me and protected me till his last day despite treating me in the worst ways, and as if I wasn’t his sister sometimes." Stoping, Dany took a few breaths, between continuing. "He kept blaming me for mother’s death…and…and I think…do you think it was my fault, uncle?” asked Dany looking down with clapped hands, and feeling tears fall again. Because if that was the truth, she wished she wasn't born.

“Childbirth is unpredictable, little Dany, but it wasn’t your fault. Your mother would never blame you for that, and as you told me, she entrusted your safety to Viserys,” Maester Aemon said, as Ghost came to her side, starting to lick her, making Dany fall down, and giggle. “I see Rhaegal isn’t the only one who got attached to someone.”

“Yes. Ghost is a good puppy. But I think attachment for dragons is different,” replied, Dany, scratching the pup's ears, as he started to climb on her lap. “How much do you know of Dragons, uncle. Jon once told me that you foretold him about the direwolves.”

“Yes, I did. And more about dragons. When my brother Egg wanted to hatch the eggs, he asked my advice because I studied at the Citadel."

Upon hearing about his brother King Aegon the V, Dany asked, "What happened at Sumerhall?"

"You should take a seat, little Dany because it will be a very long story,” he said, and so, Dany got up, heading to the bed, ready to listen to her uncle and learn more about the dragons and about Sumerhall.

The sun was starting to set when she came out of the room, after having spent all day with Maester Aemon and the dragons, but there was still no sight of Jon. Dany need to stretch her legs and take some fresh air, but she was standing on the wooden terrace, she saw him appear in the courtyard, and getting down from Winterstorm with Edd next to him.

Without hesitation, she run towards him, immediately hugging him, and chocking a sob, said, “I’m sorry Jon. Your brother-“

“I know,” Jon replied, breaking, and exhaling. “Benjen told me. And I need to go for a ride outside. Come,” he said, taking her hand, and leading her to the cage that was taking the Night’s Watchmen to the top of the Wall.

Silence was over them, as Jon drifted into a brooding mood, and she never took of her eyes from him. Dany wanted to comfort him, but was worried that the wrong words may come out and make the situation worst.

Once on top, they moved towards the wooden pillbox that was hovering on the northern side of the wall, and as they were looking at the land beyond the Wall, Jon said, “There is a heart tree a few miles from here. I went there to pray after my uncle told me the news.” Leaning on the small wooden wall, Jon continued, “I can't get over the fact that my little brother will no longer walk again when he wakes up.”

“I’m sure he will find a purpose in life,” Dany said, wrapping her arm around Jon’s shoulder, and leaning her head on him, hoping to not sound too silly.

“The sun is setting,” she heard him say as he straightened, wrapping his arms around her, and Dany, leaning her head against his chest said, “It's so beautiful. A sight to behold indeed.”

This was the most beautiful moment of her life. The northern chill kissing her skin, Jon’s secure arms wrapped around her waist while the sun was setting down. Never in her life, Dany thought that she will experience something like this.

Looking up, Dany saw that Jon’s eyes were on her and not on the sunset, and blushing, asked, “What are you doing, Jon Snow?”

“Looking at the most beautiful sight to behold,” replied, taking a sniff, and lifting her chin and slowly leaning, placed his lips on hers.”

Dany tried to enjoy them as long as possible, before parting her lips and letting his tongue slide in, as Jon started to kiss her slowly, backing her against the wooden pillar tin pillar of one of the forts. Their breath increased, as the kiss become more heated, and Dany felt Jon’s hands slide lower, to her ass, starting to grope her and Dany moaned. Gods! She loved his hands on her.

However, this perfect moment was interrupted by a man who said, “How romantic. The bastard and my little whore.” Turning Dany saw that man...the man who attacked her in Illyrio’s manse. “I never would have thought that I would have had the chance to see you again,” the man continued, as he looked at her in that same way as before.

“Jon. It’s him,” she said as he stepped between the men and her. “He attacked the manes and killed my brother. He wanted to rape me that day.”

“Lord Snow,” the man greeted Jon with a mocking bow and pulling out two daggers. “I heard many tales about you. The bastard who dared to claim what isn’t rightfully his. I must say your legend is starting to rival my own.”

“And you are?”

“Karl Tanner the legend of Gin Alley,” the man replied, spinning his daggers.

“Never heard,” Jon said, pulling out Longclaw, and pointing it at the man. “But if you don’t want to die, I advise you to leave us alone.”

“I will, but only after I’ve fucked properly that little whore who is standing behind you,” the man said pointing his dagger at her. “She owns me one.” And as the man started to move toward them, Dany grabbed the dagger that was at Jon’s hip, before he went against the man.

Jon and Tanner started battling atop the wall, sword against knives, but her Jon was struggling because the man was more skilled with his short blades, not to mention that the top of the wall where they were was a bit of small quarters, and the length of the sword made it more difficult to swing it.

“You learn how to fight in a castle, huh?” the man asked, as he hit Jon with the elbow after a pair. “How to fight with honor?” and a kick came, as Jon fell to the ground, but immediately got up after a backward flip, and pairing the strike in time.

“Some old man teach you how to stand, how to parry?” the man kept saying, as Jon started to attack, managing to slice Tanner on the face, who backed away with a scream, and Dany could see one of his eyes off and blood on his lips, before Tanner started to laugh, and charge at Jon roaring, starting to strike fast.

Jon paired backing away, until his back hit the ice wall, and was trapped between the wall and the man, who was pushing against the sword with his daggers.

“You know what's wrong with honor?” the man laughed, before spitting in Jon’s face and stabbing him in the leg. “It makes you lose.”

Dany heard Jon groan, and immediately run to help him, stabbing the man in the back with her dagger, who cursed trying to slice her with one of the knives as he turns, and that Dany avoided in time, backing away, but falling down.
“You little bitch!” the man cursed, dislodging the knife, climbing on her, grabbing her throat, and wanting to stab her, but Jon was the one to stab him in the head. The point of the sword came out of Tanner’s mouth, and when Jon pulled out the sword, the man fell to the side. Dead.

“Dany. Are you all right?” Jon asked, helping her up, and she quickly nodded, as her eyes glanced down.

“You are wounded, Jon,” she said, very worried, helping him to the bench, as he chuckled, retorting, “Another one to add to my list in making.”

“Jon!” she warned him, as she folded with his tunic and ripped a piece of it to wrap around his leg, tying it tightly, making him groan. “Good. This will make you remember it and try to be more careful. We need to go to Maester Aemon. He will help you.”

“You know it was your fault,” he retorted, before biting his lips and cursing his lips for letting this come out, as she looked down and a few tears dropped down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blame you…I’m still recovering after the fight Dany.”

“No,” she shook her head, getting up and sitting next to him. “You were right. He only attacked you because of me. He wanted me, not you.”

“What in the Seven Hells is happening here?!” Jon heard a man shout and looking up, he saw Thorne appear with Rast behind him.

“He killed Karl Tanner, Ser Alliser. Without any reason,” Rast said, pointing the finger. “He stabbed him in the head and-”

“Lies,” said Daenerys, getting up, as he did too. “He tried to attack me and Jon-“

“Attack you? He didn’t even know you,” Rast scoffed interrupting her, while Torne approached him, and looking him straight in the eyes, said, “First you take our men and now you are killing our brothers. This stunt will cost you dearly, bastard.”

“Kill him, Ser Alliser. Kill him! He stained his hands with the blood of one of our brothers. Death is the prince for such a crime,” Rast insisted, but Ser Alliser shook his head, saying grinning, “No. The Lord Commander will decide what to do with him,” grabbing his arm, and leading him towards the cage, while Jon could hear Daenerys argue on the regard and try to stop him.

He was brought to the Great Hall where all the Night’s Watchmen got gathered immediately and waited for the high-ranking members to arrive. For all the wait, Dany never left his side, holding his hand, and whispering, “Everything will be alright." But Jon could feel that her whole body was shaking, afraid of what may happen.

Once the Lord Commander and Maester Aemon arrived,  with Alliser whispering something to them, jon heard Mormont say, “Lord Snow. You are accused of murdering our brother Karl Turner by pushing him down from the top of the wall. How do you judge yourself?”

Guilty, but if I may, I did it because I was attacked.

Witnesses claim it differently, Alliser snapped back,  squeezing his gloved fist. “Brother, Rast. Come forward.”  And Jon saw that asshole step forward. “What did you see?”

“I saw Jon Snow stab Brother Karl with his sword, while Tanner was quenching his thirst."

"Lord Snow?” Mormont asked, turning his attention to him

"I did, but-“

"He did to protect me," Dany said, stepping between the table and him. Karl tried to assault me. Jon merely stepped between him and me."

"Lies. He never met her before," Rast spat. "Kill him, Lord Commander. Jon Snow has stained his hands with the blood of one of our brothers. A brother who is skilled with weapons and leadership. A brother who would have been very useful against the Wildlings. Now we demand justice. Isn't so, brothers?!"

"Aye!" They all roared.

"Silence!" Mormont roared.

"I object to this judgment," said Daenerys before turning and addressing all who were present. “If you kill him then you will be alone against the King Beyond the Wall.”

“Alone?” Scoffed Alliser, making Dany turn and look at him. “Why would we be alone when the King of the Seven Kingdoms is our ally?”

“First of all, the King of the Seven Kingdoms won’t be your ally, since Lord Stark is like a brother to him and Lord Snow is his son. You may argue that he is a bastard, but I assure you, Lord Stark loves and cares for all his children the same way. If you kill him, you will face the wrath of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“The King will never do such a thing. Not for a bastard. And neither the Lannisters,” retorted Ser Alliser, grinning, as everyone glanced at Tyrion Lannister, who was minding his business. That man really hates him for no reason. 

"Well, you will face ten thousand Unsullieds that were added to Lord Snow's house guard," Dany tried, earning a laugh from everyone. She then turned to her kin. “Maester Aemon. I appeal to your wisdom,” Daenerys plead almost in exasperation,  approaching the high table.  “You know your men, and you know Jon. You know he is telling the truth,” she added, before glancing at him and Jon smiled in reassurance. “That we are telling the truth.”

“Lord Commander,” said the Maester at Arms, leaning and whispering something at the old bear who passed the information to Maester Aemon.

“May we ask my lady why you care so much for Lord Snow, my Lady? What is he to you?” asked Mormont.

“I care...I care for him because Lord Snow is my husband,” Dany replied, looking at him, before returning her attention to him. “And if you don’t want for revenge to come after you, Ser, I advise you all to reconsider this. Because I have the means to take you down without an army. You will have no place to hide, and no ally to whom to turn once my wrath will strike you.”

And as those words left her mouth all the hall burst out laughing except Maester Aemon, who seemed struggling to hold emotions at bay, emotions of proudness, and of course Mormont.”

“You think I’m lying,” Dany said, looking around, as the laughs quenched.  “May I have the hall clear, Lord Commander? I want to show you something.” And turning to green and Edd, Dany added, “Fence one of my chests. The black one. Don’t worry. They are locked.”

“Dany,” Jon warned her approaching, and leaning, whispered, “Tyrion Lannister is here. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“I know what I’m doing, Jon,” Dany said, placing one hand on his cheek. “Trust me as I trust you.”

“Everyone out,” Mormont commanded, in his powerful voice, and his men obeyed. “You too, Lord Tyrion. And you Snow.”

He obeyed, kissing her one last time, before following everyone out, but with a hammering chest, not liking the turn this was taking. Especially because of Tyrion Lannister’s presence.

Once alone, Dany did not move an inch from where she was standing, hands intertwined before her belly, and eyes that were looking at each one of them. They want to play seriously, then she will play seriously. Do they think they have the upper hand over them? Do they think they can serve trials without consequence?

“Lady Naerys-“

But Dany stopped raising her hand and heard the door open again, as Green and Edd brought the chest caging the dragon, who was awakened and restless. “You laughed at me when I said that I have the means to bring you down,” Dany started, as she approached the heart at the end of the hall, but what you will see will make you realize that you don't have the slightest idea who you're dealing with," rolling up one of her sleeves.

“My lady. Please. There is no need for you to get hurt.”

But Dany ignored the Old Mormont, hovering her hand above the flames, and while looking inside them, said, "Ser Alliser. Maester Aemon informed me that you were a Targaryen loyalist once.”

“I was. I-”

“What if tell you that before you stands a Targaryen? The last of her Kind?”

“Are you-“ but the world died the moment she put her hand in the flames, making every one of them gasp at the sight, and when she pulled away, Dany showed them the unburnt hand.

“Do you see, Ser Alliser? Blood of the Dragon,” Dany said approaching.

“Who are you, lady?” asked the Old Bear, leaning back, and glancing at Aemon who had a smile of proudness on his face, as she recited her name, “I am Daenerys, of House Targaryen, last-born daughter of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella, Rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Name. Mother of Dragons. And the unburnt as you can see.”

Without wasting time Ser Alliser immediately shoot to his feet, and came before her kneeling, and taking her hand said, “Forgive our men’s actions, Queen Daenerys. If We knew who you were-“

“There is no need for this, Ser Alliser because that is not why I’m here. I have long forsaken and forgotten my claim to the Iron Throne. I have no intention of suffering the fate that my family has endured. Now I want peace and quietness. I want to spend my days with my lost kin.”

“What is in the chest?” asked the Old Bear.

“A dragon, Lord Commander. A dragon of House Targaryen and House Snow of Magthol,” Dany replied, approaching, and unlocking the cage, freeing Morghul, who opened his wings widely, hissing at those who were present, and who immediately jumped down from their chairs, backing away, in vain, she should say, as they hit the wall behind. “This is Morghul. One of my three Dragons, and the wildest and fearless of them all. He already tasted blood before, so he is ready for War. Now. Only one word I need to say and you all be dead. So I advise you to think and ponder well the decisions you want to take regarding Lord Snow."

“What do you really want, my Lady? You wouldn't pull out a dragon only for Lord snow,” Mormont asked, and she smiled.

She had been in there far too long, and Jon was beginning to worry. Yes. The dragon was with her and so were Edd and Grenn, but still. He wanted to get in there so bad, but he couldn't. Tyrion Lannister was still here.

“Are you worried, Snow?” asked Tyrion Lannister, sipping from his leather flask.

“No. Lady Naerys can take care of herself.”

“Can take care of herself?” asked the dwarf of Casterly Rock, with a raised eyebrow, but Jon did not reply. “Tell me, Snow. How did a bastard get hold of such a beauty like a girl in there? Especially when on the other side there was a handsome young man, with great power and wealth, and who would one day rule the largest kingdom in Westeros. That's every girl’s dream."

"Not every girl's," Jon retorted, earning a chuckle from her. “You think I’m lying, dwarf.”

“No. Bastard,” the Lannister retorted, taking another sip. “The wine has finished,” he said, turning the flask up down. “Your brother. Bran. He woke up.” And the moment he heard it, Jon immediately tried to follow him, only to be stopped by Rast, who grabbing his shoulder, growled, “Where the hell you think you are going, Snow.”

But Jon throws a punch in his face, breaking the man's nose, only to be stopped by the others. "You fucking bastard!" shouted the man, and Jon freeing himself, hit the man one time with the elbow, and then brought his ugly face to his knee, knocking Rast down.

In that moment, Dany came out of the great hall, while Grenn and Edd followed right behind with the chest. Then it come the Lord commander’s time, who once out, and leaning on the wooden terrace, said, “We listened to the girl's witness," and stopping, he saw an injured Rast carried away. Sighing, Mormont continued. "You are free. Your actions were caused because Karl Tanner attempted to attack the lady."

"Thank you, Lord Commander. May I have my sword?" asked Jon, seeing it in Thorne's hands, and stretching out his hand. Mormont nodded, and the Maester at Arms gave it to him with a displeased expression.

After that, with Dany by hand, they retired to their rooms, where, once alone, he got the chance to kiss her, pining Dany to the door. He wanted her, but first, he needed to treat his wound because he won’t be much of a use.

"Thank you," he whispered, after kissing her one last time, and heard Dany ask, "If it wasn't for you I would have been dead. But now I'm worried for you."

"Don't me, my love. They swore to keep the secret because they fear the outcome. All of them," Dany said, but Jon doubted. Especially because many were untrustworthy.

"I need a bath, and to treat my wound,” Jon said, kissing her again. 

“Want me to join?”

“No. This is not the moment and neither the place for that,” Jon said, leaving the room to go in search of someone who can help him with that.

Chapter Text

A fortnight passed since the events with Karl Tanner happened, but they still did not leave the Wall because Daenerys needed more time with her great-great uncle, to learn about the dragons, and not only, and she confided him that beyond the Wall there was someone who knew about them even more than Maester Aemon, but Jon managed to make her desist from doing such a thing. However, what was keeping them here was the fact that there wasn’t a carriage to take Aemon to Magthol, and he was forced to ask another House to send one.

Stroking his eyes, Jon rose up a bit, trying not to wake her, and glancing at the windows, he could see the morning lights crack in. It was time to wake up, and yet he had no desire to do such a thing. Mainly because he wanted to stay with her in bed a bit longer.

Glancing at the girl in question, Jon saw Dany still deeply seeping, on her side, curled, with hands under her cheek. She was sleeping so peacefully. Like never before. Jon pushed some strands that were out of place, away from her beautiful face, before caressing her war cheek, earning a sleepy moan from Dany, making him smile.

It was such a strange feeling to sleep with another warm body next to him. A pleasant feeling, that Jon hoped will never end, though there was one fear that still hovered over his mind. What if one day she thinks that he is no longer enough? That the love she is feeling now, a youthful love, faded away?  

He needed some cool fresh air, and a walk atop the Wall to clear his mind of these fears, and so, leaning, Jon placed a kiss on her warm cheek, before Jon slowly got down from the bed, but before he could leave, he felt Dany wrap her arms around his body, and while lying on his back, say in a sleepy voice, “Don’t go...not yet.”

He chuckled, letting himself pull back down, and felt Dany snuggle closer, wrapping her arm around his waist, hovering one leg above his and the head resting on his chest. He hugged enjoying the moment and trying to control himself, despite it being difficult. Her nightgown was way too thin, and Jon could feel everything through it. Her breasts. Her cunt. Everything.

However, as he was laying there, Holding the princess to himself, Jon thought back to what she confessed the Watch the day of his Trial. That he was her husband. He wondered if those words were true, or if she did it only because of that moment of need. Of course. She voiced many times that she loved him and that she wanted in that intimate, d those could come even without marriage. 

“I can feel you’re thinking,” Jon heard her whisper, as the words rang through his chest. “What is troubling you, my love?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” she said, looking up. “Your heart. It’s racing in your chest like thousands of horses in open-field,” she continued, resting the hand on his heart. “There is something that haunts you. I can feel it, Jon.” And getting on the sitting position, asked, taking his hand. “What is it? You can tell me”

“Your words...that day,” he started, breathing heavily while looking at their joined hands, caressing with his thumb. “You said I’m your husband,”

“I did,” she said, and his eyes immediately shoot up to her. “And I’m ready to say them again.” Climbing on him, and leaning on her arms, Dany whispered, looking him in the eyes. “And I’m ready to make those words come true whenever you want, Jon. If you want of course.”

She started to move her hips, slowly rubbing herself on his abdomen, and Jon felt his cock jolt in his small clothes, but still too tight for him to get full and not in pain. However, pushing her hair behind, he placed his hands on her ribcage, stopping her moves, asking, “Truly would you want to do that? Truly would you want to marry a bastard?”

“There is no one else in this world that I would like to marry, Jon. Only you,” she whispered, and he rose up to kiss her, but Dany did not let him do it, pushing him down gently. “Jon. I want to ask your forgiveness. “

“My forgiveness?” Jon chuckled, caressing her cheek. “For what?”

“I behaved badly with you, Jon. Treated you badly. Used words I shouldn’t have used. And I’m sorry,” Dany said, looking away from him, but sitting completely on him. “There is no true excuse for what I did-“

“Dany,” he said, turning her face so that he could look her in the eyes. “It’s all right. I forgave you. I forgot them.”

“It’s not Jon,” she said, choking a sob, and Jon pulled her down, hugging Dany’s small frame, as she silently sobbed in his arms.

“Shhh....” he whispered, trying to reassure her, stroking her back, before swapping their positions, so that he was on the top, and could look at her. Brushing the locks from her face, and cleaning the tears with his thumb, Jon said, softly, “I forgive you, Dany. No more tears, please. I had long forgotten those words. Yes. It hurt me when I heard them, especially the one time when you said that Lady Stark was right about me.”

“I’m sorry. When we were in Essos, my brother always said that words are like wind. They turn towards where it takes them. However, Maester Aemon said that words are like swords. They cut fast and sometimes are deadly.”

And Jon was speechless by what she was saying, not even understanding what was she trying to say. He was lost for a moment.

“I truly repent my words, Jon,” she said honestly, resting one hand on his cheek. “I want for us to start again. As if what happened before never did.” He glanced down, sighing, and heard her add, “I know it’s difficult.  But-“

He stopped her with his lips, kissing her roughly, before breaking for air. “Aye. Let’s forget. Let’s delete and start it again.”

“As husband and wife?” she asked teasingly with a smile, and he nodded, leaning back down and kissing her again, with tongues starting battling for dominance. His hands moved down her body, cupping her covered breasts that were filling his hand.

Dany moaned, dipping her fingers into his thick curls, hovering her leg over his, and arching her back.

"Jon," she breathed his name when he broke the kiss and moved to her neck. Bitting and kissing. "My Jon, my Jon," she moaningly chanted his name. He moved his hand to the end of her nightgown, pulling it up till it reached her waist, before groping her ass and thigh. By the old Gods, he was hungry. She was hungry, and he really hoped that no one will interrupt them again, because may the Gods save him.

“Jon…mmm…” she moaned when he moved his hand to her folds, which were starting to get wet, and he proceeded to tease her with his fingers, gently, stroking them up and down her slit. “Gods! Jooon….” She moaned his name, while he tried to silence her with his lips.

Stopping, Jon stood up on his keens and helped Dany out of her nightgown, leaving her naked to sight. He took a quick look at her godly shapes, before lowering back down and kissing her passionately, not wanting for what happened back in Moghtol to happen here too.

Slowly, Jon started to move downwards, kissing her jaw, biting her earlobe before moving to her throat.

"Jon...mmm..." she moaned, while he did not say a word, sucking on her neck, and marking her as his.

Glancing up, Jon saw Dany breathing heavily with closed eyes, before moving further down, stopping at the valley between her breasts, and looking up at her, he whispered, her name, "Dany." And she glanced down at him, biting her lower lips, realising what he was about to do. "May I?"

She nodded, swallowing, and Jon placed a sloppy kiss on the valley, never breaking the eye contact. She was holding her breath since the chest no longer rose up and down, and Jon didn’t know how to make this easier.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing lightly her breast. First one, then the other, while in the meantime cupped the one that he wasn’t kissing, because Jon wanted to let no one of them without attention. Then he proceeded to grope them, rub them, and squeezing them, brushing the thumbs over her hardened nipples, earning moans loud and louder from the dragon princess.

"Gods…" she rasped as he pinched the nipples, before taking on in his mouth, sucking and biting on it, while Dany arched her back, pushing more in his mouth. “Jooon…Gods! I need you!” she screamed, and he immediately broke, raising up.

“Dany!” he warned her, with a look, and she gave him a genuine smile of guilty, asking forgiveness, before he returned his attention to the perched breast, this time sucking and biting on the other one. Once he was sure that to both were given the same amount of lovely attention, Jon started to move lower, leaving a trail of kisses down her belly and heading towards the place that he covet the most.

He took a sniff from her silvery bush, feeling already her wet scent on them, before he pulled her thighs apart. Jon started to place kisses on her inner thighs, tasting the soft skin, and slowly move towards her wet folds, feeling the heat, meaning from her cunt as if it was the breathing of a dragon right before he spat fire.

“Jon…what…what are you doing?”

“Shhhh…You helped me in the time of need,” Jon said heatedly, and kissing her only an inch away from her pussy lips, already tasting the wetness. “Now let me return the favour…(kiss)…and show you how much I love you.”

Dany nodded, swallowing, while biting her nail, and Jon finally placed his lips on her wet fold, tasting the salt and sweetness. She whined and moaned his name as his mouth kissed her lower lips, nudging them aside to kiss the wetness of her slit. He ran his tongue along the small slit, adding to her wetness. This would be the perfect moment to fuck, but he didn’t want to do it before she was his wife. He wanted to take her maidenhood as husband.

However, before anything could proceed deeper, an insistent knock at the door came and they both groaned in frustration, and Jon heard her say, “We will never be able to finish without anyone coming to disturb us.”

“I will see what he wants and then will dismiss him. I will finish what I started,” he retorted, cleaning his mouth, and getting up, heading to the door after making sure that Dany was under the covers. “Who is it.”

“Samwell. Samwell Tarly,” the boy stammered from the other side. He was Maester Aemon’s steward if Jon remembered correctly. Opening, Jon heard the boy say, “I’m sorry to disturb you, Lord Snow, but the Lord Commander sent me to summon you.”

“Now?” asked Jon, and the boy nodded, as he sighed, closing the door in his face, before returning to Dany, who uncovered herself, and sitting on the bed, he said, “Mormont wants to see me. But we have still time.”

“Then take off your clothes Jon Snow, and let’s do it,” retorted the princess, but Jon only shook his head, bringing her closer to the edge. “Jon!”

“Shhh…Trust me, Dany. You will feel good,” he reassured her spreading her thighs apart. By the gods! The sight of her pink opening exposed was driving him so insane.

In a heartbeat, he bent down, clutching at her hips, basking in her scent before taking a long swipe of his tongue through her wet folds. She tasted better than any ale he ever drank and leaped into her, thirsting for her juices, and Dany cried out. Her hands grasped his head, pushing him into her folds even more, almost taking his breath away, however, this was all the encouragement he needed to lick into her while his tongue found her small but swollen nub.

In that moment, Theon’s words come to his mind, and following them, Jon swirled it before closing his mouth around to suck, eliciting stifled whimpers from his sweet little princess. It took no time for her to reach her peak and come all over his mouth. But and the sweet surge of wetness, combined with her pulsing and strangled cry, made him nearly spill in his small clothes, and falling on the floor, Jon chuckled, cleaning his mouth with the sleeve.

Dany was exhausted, laying there panting, and welcoming, but he cannot. He should not.  He needed to resist this urge of taking her. This natural instinct that was driving him mad.

“By the Gods....” he heard her say, with swallowing and taking a deep breath to regain her normal one. “This was…(breath)…insane….” She rose on her elbows, looking at him, but still with half-spread thighs. “How-“

“Greyjoy,” he said, resting backward on his hand. “He loves to brag around about his conquests.”

“I know. He tried that with me too. Both did, but had no win,” she said, smirking, as he chuckled, before getting up. “Well, now it’s best if I go and see what the Lord Commander wants from me.”

“Not so fast,” she said, beckoning with her fingers to come, while raising up, and he obeyed, having a clue on what she wanted to do. "It would be cruel if I left you walking around in pain with full balls and a hard cock."

"Such filthy words, my little princess. You must be punished," he said, grinning, earning a chuckle from her, who retorted, "Then punish me, young wolf."

'Fuck it!' Without hesitation, Jon fumbled with the laches of his small clothes, pulling them down, and his cock sprang hard and to attention. The tip already red and liking, with the foreskin wrapping it more than half.

Jon heard her gasp the moment he revealed himself, and mumbled words in High Valyria, before daring to touch him as if it was the first time, despite it not being. His cock jolted, at the proximity of her hand, while Dany looked at it mesmerized, exclaiming, “You are…big!”

“Dany,” he called her, because he was struggling to still hold himself, and she looked up at him, confused, before realizing what to do and wrapping one hand around his shaft. Jon closed his eyes, releasing a groan, as his hand rested on his hips while bucking.

She slowly started to move her hand, but the dryness of it was making it even more painful. But once she passed the thumb over the tip, the stroke got more pleasant as now it wasn’t dry as before.

However, the problem was that he could no longer hold, feeling his sack balls tight, and before Jon could even warn her, he spilled. Rope after rope of his seed spurted out of his cock and onto Dany’s face. One spurt landed across her nose, another landed on her puffy lips whilst another landed across her forehead and in her silver-golden hair.

Since her hand was no longer on him, Jon used his own to finish himself on her chest, covering her breast, before sinking down next to her, panting. “Gods! This was...I tried…”

“It’s salty,” he heard her say, as she turned, wiping it from her face.

“You tasted it?” asked Jon shocked, never ever imagining that Daenerys Targaryen would do something like this. “I will take you something to clean…and then I will bring you water to wash,” he said still shocked by that.

Half an hour later….

Jon was before Mormont’s door, taking a moment to calm himself and try to recover from this morning experience, before knocking. “Enter.”

Opening he saw Mormont sitting at his table, and Jon said, “You wanted to see me, Lord Commander?”

“Yes, Snow. Take a sit,” Mormont nodded, filling a cup with ale, and Jon obeyed sitting on one of the chairs before him. “Bad news I have to give you. The sentries who were on the watch in the morning saw a horse with no rider arriving. It's Benjen's."

“My uncle Benjen’s?” asked Jon, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, and the Lord Commander nodded,d as he took a sip. “Mance Rayder's men must have caught his party and attacked them.

"Do you think Mance Rayder is holding him prisoner?"

"I do not know, Snow," sighed Mormont, shaking his head.  "But what I can tell you is to have patience and wait. Wait and see how things will devolve. Maybe the horse has reared, scared by a wild animal and run back to the Wall."

"Or maybe he was attacked by the Others," pointed Jon.

“Yes. He may have had,” Mormont said, and Jon retorted, “I want to go beyond the wall.”

“No. You are a Lord that we need. We cannot risk your death,” Mormont said, but Jon getting up said, "I will go. I will travel a few miles beyond the Wall and return at dusk."

However, as he was leaving, Mormont said, “I will assign you some men.”

“No need. I want to be fast and sneaky beyond the wall,” Jon said, earning a grunt from the Old bear, while the raven kept saying. “Sneaky. Sneaky.”

Jon left, and went, first to the kitchens, to ask for a bag of food and water to Three-Finger Hobb, then he went in search of Grenn, who was in the Great Hall, and ask him to prepare Winterstorm.

When he returned back to his rooms, however, Jon found the door locked, and knocking, said, “It’s me Dany.” And he heard the door unlock and open, seeing her peek from behind it, and Jon chuckled, exhaling.

“What?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders while locking the door, and as he took the sheets to cover said, “What did he want?”

“My uncle. His horse returned to the Wall in the marrow,” he said, sighing, wrapping the sheets around her, before returning to the bed. “I will go beyond the Wall to investigate because I think he is still alive.”

“Then I will come with you.”

“What?” his eyes shout to her, “You can’t. Beyond the Wall is dangerous. And I won’t be out for long. Will return before dusk.”

“Well, if you return before dusk, then you have nothing against if I join you,” she insisted, letting the sheets fall, and climb on his lap, before wrapping her arms around his neck. Looking him in the eyes, she continued. “And you said that beyond the Wall there is a heart tree.”

"Will you really marry me before the Old Gods?"

"I am not one of faith, Jon. I've never been much of a believer in gods. But if you believe in the Old Gods, then we should marry in the old ways," she replied, leaning down and kissing him.

Jon returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her naked body, squeezing her, before breaking, saying, “Then it is better if you hurry up and dress because I’m really finding it difficult to hold myself.”

She chuckled, kissing him one last time, before climbing down, and moving to dress herself. Jon looked away, to not be tempted, because it will be difficult to hold back, and heard Dany say, “During my conversations with Maester Aemon, he told me that a Lord Commander had gone missing beyond the Wall. Brynden Rivers was his name."

"Bloodraven?" asked Jon, glancing at her, and seeing her already half-dressed.

"Yes. You have heard of him?"

"Aye. One of the Great Bastards he was. Skilled archer, and loyal subject of House Targaryen," he pointed, earning a scoff from her, while Jon hoped that in time his name would be compared more to Bloodraven as a loyalist instead of Daemon Blackfyre, though his actions might show differently if told by someone else. Someone like Lady Stark for example, or even Robb.

“Jon? Are you listening?”

“Hm? Forgive me…I was deep in my thoughts,” he said, getting up. “As for Bloodraven, he is long dead, Dany.”

“Yes. I think that too,” she said, approaching. “Well. I’m ready,” she continued, smiling, and twirling.

Jon chuckled, getting up, and approaching her, said, “Wait me at the stables,” before kissing Dany and seeing her off, while he moved to take his sword, and then head to the kitchen to take their supplies.

After having left their chambers, Dany didn’t go to the stables as Jon told her, but instead to Maester Aemon’s ones, hoping to find him still there, despite the late hour of the morning, and not already in the Library, because she didn’t want to tire him to much in the walk back to his rooms or to hers, and the library wasn’t a good place where confess him what they were going to do. Not after what happened with Tanner.

When she reached it, Dany found Samwell Tarly taking care of him and getting ready the Maester for the day, but he left the room for them to be alone, and Dany was starting to think that the boy was aware of her identity but was keeping it to himself.

Once Dany put Aemon aware of what they were going to do beyond the Wall, her old uncle, as last of her Kin, gave them his blessing, but before she could leave, he stopped her saying, “There is something else that I want to give you, little Dany beside my blessing for your wedding.”

“A gift?” and he nodded, raising his trembling hand, and pointing it towards his wardrobe.

“There is something wrapped inside the wardrobe. On its inner wall, there is a crack that will bring to life, something hidden long ago.”

Dany opened, searching between the furniture, and finding a small crack in the back. Too small for even the fingers to pass. “I can’t, Maester. It’s too tight.”

Forgive me Daenerys. It has been in there for so many decades and I forgot how small the crack that I made to keep it hidden was," Aemon replied, and Dany chuckled. "Take the knife that's on the table and use it to open it. Carefully," and Dany immediately rushed to get it, before going back to the wardrobe and trying to open it.

It took her a few moments, and once she did, the hidden place opened, and Dany saw something long, wrapped, fall. She took it, and approached the Maester, saying “It’s a sword?”

“Yes. It’s Darksister,” Amon replied, and Dany stopped midway, gasping, and frozen. Darksister? Visenya’s sword? “Daenerys?”

“Forgive me. It’s just…Darksister was Visenya’s sword…She was a Warrior Queen,” Dany stammered, not finding the words, as she unwrapped it, seeing the beautiful old slender hilt, with the fiery golden pommel. Approaching, Dany placed the sword on Maester Aemon’s lap, and heard him say, “This sword was wielded by great people, by strong people, by men of honour. By kings. By queens. And, by knights. It has a great history, and its last wielder, Brynden Rivers, bestowed it upon me." He paused again, to rest, before removing it from the cloth. "I have never been a skilled fighter. On the contrary. Less than average. My calling were the books. And I think it's a waste to leave it there, gathering dust."

She was speechless realising what he meant, though she had already realised it the moment she picked up the sword.

"I want to hand you Darksister, little Dany. You will be the new wielder of said sword," Aemon said, holding the sword towards her.

Dany hesitated a few moments, saying, "I don't think I'm worthy to wield it, Maester Aemon."

“You are, Daenerys. You are. In you, I can see Visenya. Her strength,” Aemon said, and Dany felt the tears coming down. Being said that she resembled Visenya, the Warrior Queen of House Targaryen was a great honour. “But I also can see Rhaenys in you.”

Dany swallowed, accepting the sword, and saying, "I will wield it with honour, and ensure that its history is not tainted by dishonour."

Hours later…

They rode for hours beyond the wall, finding nothing on their way. Nothing but snow. The closer wilding village, that he expected to be inhabited, was empty, and Jon wondered what the reason was. Was it because they went north to join Mance Rayder? Or had they died at the hands of the White Walkers?

Stopping on a small hill in the woods, where he, and sighing, Jon thought about what to do next. Go back to the wall, or continue to search, and said to Dany, “Maybe Mormont was right. Maybe my uncle is indeed dead or prisoner of Mance Rayder.”

“I’m sure he is alive and well, Jon,” she said, and Jon chuckled, bitterly, but hope was last to die. “Do you want to go in Mance Rayder’s search?”

“No. Mance Rayder has an army,” Jon retorted. “Now. It’s time that I show you the Heart tree,” he said, smiling, and urging the horse to follow, while Ghost jumped in the snow before them.

The Heart tree was only a few miles away from Castle Black. So, it was south where they headed. Back to Castle black.

He felt a little guilty about this type of wedding. She was a princess, for Gods' sake. Yes, in disgrace, but still a princess and she deserved a better wedding moment than this one, with only Ghost and the horses as witnesses.

“Jon? What is it?” he heard Dany ask, as they were moving at a walking patch, approaching the place, but did not reply. “Jon?”

“Nothing…It’s just…You are a princess-“

“Not again with this story, Jon,” Dany groaned in complaint, before urging her horse forward, and stop right before him, cutting his way. Jon pulled by the rein, to stop Winterstorm, and heard Dany Said. “We already talked about this, and I told you I don’t care about who I am or who are you, Jon.”

“And I wasn't referring to that, but to the fact that as a princess, you deserve a much more lavish wedding than this kind of wedding with only two horses and a direwolf,” Jon retorted, lowering his gaze.

He could hear her horse move, and approach Winterstorm, before placing her hand on his, saying, “Us. Only us matter.” He rose his eyes to meet hers, and Dany continued. “That we know it, that we accept it, that the Old Gods witness it, is all that matters, Jon. Not what others think.”

“Still, it doesn’t change my thinking that you deserve a better one.”

“All right. I surrender. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I want to sleep. We will meet at Castle Black if you come back," she said, turning her horse, and riding away, angry. Or perhaps annoyed by his words? But he cannot help. This difference of status…Shaking his head, Jon his Winterstorm with the heels and rode after her as fast as possible and trying to avoid the fresh snow.

It did not take him much time to reach her, and the moment Winterstorm bared her way, Snowman reared, making Dany almost fall, who clutched to the horse, before cursing at him. “Have you lost your mind, Jon! I could have fell!”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention,” he said, climbing down from Winterstorm. “Can we talk for a moment, Dany? Now that we are alone, out here, beyond the wall and only a few miles from the Weirwood trees.”

“Dusk is upon us. We need to go back,” she said, not looking at him.

“Dany. Please. Let me explain what I meant,” he said, almost pleading, approaching Snowmane, and placing his hand on the horse’s neck, only a few inches from hers.

“There is nothing to talk about because I understood your words perfectly, Jon,” retorted Dany, leaning on Snowmane’s neck. “You still have an inferiority complex. You think that as a bastard you are not worthy. You think that as a princess, I want gifts, wealth, prestige,” and she stops, straightening back. "But that's where you're wrong. I know. My words when I told you, 'Princesses don't look upon bastards' made you think that as a bastard that is the only way I would look at you. But you are wrong."

Getting down from the horse, Dany said, “It’s not a fur coat that I want from you, it’s not a horse that I want from you, it’s not your wealth or your power, but only you, Jon. You. Your love. Your cock of course that I still did not get because you are a stubborn honourable man.” And upon hearing that, Jon blushed, looking down, while his cock hardened and jolted, tight in his breeches at imagining fucking Dany. Fuck!

“Jon?” she called him softly, placing a hand on his chest, and he rose up his eyes to meet hers. In that moment, he noticed the Weirwoods tree, and said, nodding, “We are here.” And Dany turned to look at it.

“Before we start the ceremony, I need to instruct you on what words you will have to say. Usually, you are handed by a relative, while the ceremony is held by the Lord of the Castle, the Master, or the one in charge of the castle. So-"

"I already know the words I must say, Jon," she interrupted him, giving him a kiss. "Maester Aemon instructed me on the matter when he gave me his blessing."

Jon laughed, bending to kiss her again, whispering, “You never ceases to surprise me, Daenerys Targaryen,” earning a laugh from her, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispering to his ear, “What are we waiting for.”

He chuckled, and hand in hand, they started to approach the Weirdwood tree where they will tie their lives. After having tied their horses to a small tree, Jon untied his furcoat, without taking it off, and approached the heart tree before turning to Dany, seeing her a bit nervous. Her breath was increasing while her gaze was on the tree.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she retorted, looking toward him. “When you are beside me, I am never afraid.”

Jon smiled, taking a deep breath, and feeling his heart pounding fast. ‘Old gods, don’t let me down.’ And looking at his future wife, he said, “Are you ready?”  and Dany nodded, releasing a quick breath, taking a step closer, while he started the ceremony.

“Who comes before the Old Gods?”

“Daenerys of House Targaryen comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods,” she replied, with a proud expression, hands clapped before her, and back straight. “Who comes to claim her?”

“Jon Snow of Magthol,” Jon said, stopping for a moment to gather his thoughts and remember what came next since here no one was giving her. “Princess Daenerys, do you take this man?"

She took a moment to reply, and Jon feared that he formed the words wrongly, but when she said, “I take this man,” Jon released the breath he was holding and felt his heart finally at ease. Now they were bonded, and taking a step closer, said, “Now I will put the bride clock upon your shoulders, but first you should take your fur. I know it’s cold out here but-“

Dany did not even let him finish, that she took of her furcoat, letting it fall to the ground, and took a step in her way with a big, beautiful smile, that was making her eyes shine even more. She had tears.

Taking his fur cape, Jon placed it around Dany’s shoulders and leaned to give her a chaste kiss on the lips, while Dany’s hand immediately went to his cheek. She was so warm, but Jon knew it was because of her dragon blood. Breaking, Jon kissed her hand and approached the heart tree to pray to the Old Gods. Kneeling.  

When they got up, Jon heard her say, “So…now we are husband and wife?”

“Yes,” he smiled, caressing her cheek, while she looked down, blushing for no reason. “What is it?”

“Now you will no longer hold back, will you?"

"Hold back?" he asked, dumbly, but knowing perfectly well what she was meaning.

"You know what I'm referring to, Jon," she retorted almost with exasperation, looking to the side and down. "I want you Jon, and I hope now that we're finally united, you'll want me too in that way."

Jon did not answer, raising her chin so that their eyes were looking at each other. 'Love comes in the eyes, Princess. Remember always,' Dorhea said during one of their talks about naughty subjects, and that was what Dany could see in Jon's eyes at that moment as he was leaving her hanging.

“I won’t. You will be my first and only, Daenerys Targaryen.”

“As you will be mine,” she said, barely managing to contain herself, feeling the heat rising from her core, and spreading through her whole body, while they started kissing heatedly.

Panting, Jon broke, and rasped against her temple, “Not here. Not now. Castle Black is a warmer place. More comfortable.”

“No,” she said, fumbling with the belt of his sword, untying it and throwing it away. “I will keep you warm Jon Snow,” she breathed against his lips, inhaling his scent, and taking a step back. Letting Jon’s fur coat fall down to the ground, Dany started to open her dress, trying to be as sensual as possible and built his desire beyond the normal limit, but the moment the cold northern chill kissed her naked skin, Dany shuddered. However, she tried to play the strong girl she was, unaffected by the cold.

Jon from his part was completely frozen on his place, but Dany could see his lustful eyes rooming her now naked body more than in their previeus play of pleasure, while his mouth was salving like that of a haunting wolf as he approached his wounded prey.

Grinning at his reaction, Dany got down on Jon’s furcoat that was under her and spreading her legs, brought one hand to her moistened place, brushing her fingers over the wet lips. It wasn’t the same feeling as it was when Jon’s hand roomed hers, but for now, it was enough.

Jon bit his lips, and without hesitation took of his clothes, ignoring the chill that was upon them, or the snow under them once he was out of his boots. It was as if he was all whole on fire just like her. Dany only hoped that tomorrow they won’t get sick because of this careless moment.

Once the breeches were down, Dany could see his cock sprung to his full erection, as Jon started to pump himself a few times, before approaching. Her mouth was salving at the sight of this glorious length, and the memory of how he tasted came back to mind. She voiced to Dorhea about not having the slightest intention of sucking a cock. Not even for all the gold in this world, but now, as she watched Jon's magnificent size, and with the memory of his seed on her lips, Dany wanted nothing more than to get on her knees and suck him till he was completely dry.

Dany in the meantime, closed her thighs because didn’t want to come at the mere sight of his hard cock, however, when he knelt before her, Jon pushed them apart without hesitation, never once looking away from her.

She took a quick glance at Jon's cock, seeing it jolting, and the precum above its head. So without further ado, Dany moved her hand to his member, grabbing it, and earning a groan from Jon, that sounded more like a growl. She brushed the thumb over the head, to tease him, and start to move her hand up and down his length. He was thick and long, and Dany was worried that he won't fit completely inside her. Would that disappoint Jon?

“Gods, Dany! If you keep doing that, I will come before I can satisfy you,” she heard Jon choke, and looking up, Dany saw him in pain, realising that she needed to stop. Taking her hand from his cock, Dany brought it to his cheek, and pulled him down with her, kissing him headily.

Jon was lying on top of her, bracing on his arms so that he wouldn't crush her with his weight, while her hands were running up and down his back. His cock was trapped between them, and Dany had to admit that she liked this position and to feel his hard shaft touching her cunt and spreading her lower lips.

Dany moaned into his mouth as she moved her hips to rub herself against his cock, receiving groans from her handsome lover.

"Jonnn....I need you...Now!" she rasped, breaking the kiss, and running her nails up and down his chest, feeling his hard muscles. He was her shadow lover. Young. Strong. Comley. And especially. Well endowed.

Suddenly Dany felt fingers tease her womanhood, and a moaning "O" appeared on her lips, chocking his name, "Jon..."

While running his fingers up and down her slit, Dany heard Jon groan, “So wet you are, my love,” making her whine as he deepened two fingers inside her, moving them in and out, while using his thumb to rub her little nub, making her reach levels of pleasure like never before.

The more he moved his fingers in and out of her, and the more his thumb rub her nub, Dany felt her coming approach, however, suddenly he stopped, and Dany’s eyes shoot open while lamenting the loose of his hand.

However, that feeling of loss was soon overcome and replaced when Jon brought his cock to her entrance, stroking its head up and down along her wet lips. Dany felt her cunt throbbing in anticipation, hearing Jon whisper, while kissing, “Are you ready?”

And Dany nodded, closing her eyes, and getting ready for this big step. Dorhea told her once that the first time always hurts, and now she feared that moment, especially because he was big. More than what she had imagined or dreamed.

Slowly, Jon pushed the head past her lips, and Dany felt herself starting to stretch around him, to accommodate his size. Once past the lips, Jon continued to dip inside her slowly, gently, but a whine escaped her, feeling as if he was ripping her apart.

Jon immediately stopped, kissing her, and whispering, “It will pass, my love. It will pass. But we need to continue otherwise it will be for both uncomfortable and painful,” and while stroking her nub, he resumed to slip inside her, and soon, the pain was chased away, replaced by the pleasure. A slow different pleasure than the one she felt brought by his tongue and his fingers or her own. Once he was fully inside her, Dany felt completed. She wondered if this was normal or only because they were meant for each other. Because they were.

Slowly, and gently, Jon started to move his hips, easing himself in and out of her, while moans left her lips as he eases in and out of her, gently, and slowly, but when her eyes opened for a moment, Dany could see the great effort he was taking to hold back.

This was something Dorhea told her too, especially when the girl was tight, and her inner walls squeeze him. He was thinking more of her pleasure than his, and that was paining her more than the actual physical pain.

She needed to be more active too. She needed to return this same kind of pleasure to him too. So, Dany started to kiss him, nipping at his lip, and whispering words that could encourage him, before moving her lips down to his neck, kissing him, licking him, and biting him there.

Groans left his mouth as he bit her shoulder, and sucked on her neck, while the pace of his thrust increased, and soon he slammed in her. Dany tried to meet his thrust, but was failing, as he was faster than her, wilder than her. Through the woods, their moans echoed, and she was sure that her screams of pleasure were even scaring away the famed Wight Walkers.

The pleasure chased up her spine and soon Dany was, writhing beneath him, her arms wrapped around his neck, hands tangled in his thick and damp hair. He has one hand in her hair, the other holds one of her legs up, and Dany could feel as if he was going deeper and deeper inside her, kissing her womb. His groans meet her moans, and she feels they were closed.

“Old Gods!” she screamed as another wave of pleasure comes to her again, but whereas before it built and exploded, now it builds much quicker and explodes almost out of nowhere. A strangled scream left her lips, and he hastens his pace again, and Dany felt a deep satisfaction as he follows her into pleasure with a growl followed by a deep moan, as he buried deep inside her, spilling his hot seed, before falling on top of her, without crushing her and kisses her again, and again and again until the last one was longer.

Breaking, Jon rubbed his nose with hers, pulling out and falling next to her panting. They both were, and Dany snuggled closer, laying her head on his chest. No cold could affect them in that moment as Dany could feel her whole body aflame.

Giggling, Dany kissed his sweated chest while bringing her fur coat over them, saying, “I never...would have...imagined that it would feel like this...”

“Good?”

“Yes,” Dan giggled, despite the soreness she was feeling between her legs in that moment.  However, she was sure that with time, the more they will do it, the more her body will get used.

“In all my life I would have never imagined this,” and Dany looked up, seeing Jon with closed eyes and a content smile.  “I always wanted to join the Watch.  And that meant no wife. No children. But now I understand what my uncle meant when he said if I could only feel what I would have missed.”

She did not reply because she was at lost words before her fingers traced the shape of his handsome face the plump lips,  and she leaned down to kiss him. Jon’s arms wrapped around her as their bodies were attached one to another.

Breaking, he whispered, “It’s better if we return to Castel Black, my beautiful wife.  I don’t want a recruit of the watch who come to take his oaths before the old Gods, to see you like this.” And Dany giggled as he rolled them so that she was on her back.  “You are only mine.”

 Dany laughed, as he tickled her a bit, before getting up and moving to gather his clothes.  That gave Dany the chance to admire his godly ass, and say, “How by the gods, you have such a perfect rear?”

“Don’t know. I shouldn’t thank the gods I think,” he retorted after a chuckle, pulling up his breeches, before returning to her with his shirt under his arm.  “But I would say for the same reason why you have such a perfect, tight and lovely.” And Dany blushed looking down. 

“You really are not disappointed in me?"

“Disappointed?” he chuckled.  “Gods. If we were at Magthol, this would have not ended her my beautiful wife.” And his words made her giggle, as she started to get dressed too. In all this, she only now remembered that they weren’t alone, and getting up, Dan asked, “Where is Ghost?”

“Hunting. I supposed he did not want to assist to our...mating,” he used a euphemism and Dany chuckled, shaking her head, and putting on her furcoat.

“All right. I’m ready,” she said, smiling, taking Darksister, and tying it to her hips. She still needed to get used to this kind of thing since never before she carried a weapon, let alone a sword. In that moment, Dany saw Ghost appear in the distance, holding something in his mouth, “What's he got there?

“To me, Ghost. Bring it here,” Jon said, while getting down, and the direwolf came, putting it down. Approaching Dany finally saw it.

“It’s a hand?” and Jon looked up at her shocked.

Chapter Text

Dead bodies. That’s what they found when they followed Ghost after he brought the dead hand. Two dead bodies. Members of the Watch they were but Jon didn’t recognize them.

Once back with the bodies, dragged on a wooden half case tree, Jon showed them to Mormont who said, “It's Othor, without a doubt.”

“The other one is Jafer Flowers, my Lord, less the hand the wolf tore off,” first Builder Yarwyck added, nodding to the other body, and Jon heard Mormont ask them, “Any sign of Benjen or the rest of his party?”

“Just these two, my Lord. Been dead awhile, I'd say,” Jon replied, looking down, exhaling, and heard Dany add, “But the wilding village we passed during the day was empty.”

“Empty?” asked Mormont with a raised eyebrow, and Dany nodded, however, they heard Samwell Tarly suddenly say, “The smell.” And everyone turned towards him, confused by his words, but it was Yarwyck who spoke, sniffing, “What smell?

“There is none. If they would be dead for a long time, wouldn't there be rot?”

And in that moment, it came to him, and Jon said, “We should burn them, Lord commander.”

“Snow's not wrong, My Lord,” the first builder agreed with him. “Fire will do for them. The Wildling way.” But Mormont shook his head. “I want Maester Aemon to examine them first,” before looking at Samwell, adding, “You may be a coward, Tarly, but you're not stupid. Get them inside.”

“You heard him.”

“Come on, move 'em out,” one of the men said, taking the bodies away, while Jon and Dany left the yard to retire for the night and finish the supplies they had with a night dinner, not to mention that they need to feed the dragons too.

While they were eating, Jon heard her ask, “How are you feeling?” and he gave her a questioning look. “I mean about your uncle. His party. Do you think he had the same fate?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, swallowing, and taking a sip of the horrible ale. “I hope he is still alive out there, hidden inside a cave and waiting for the wounds to heal.” Stopping, Jon took another sip, before continuing. “But he would have never let his men to die alone without trying to save them.” Dany did not reply, looking at the food, as if she was deep in her thoughts and so, he asked, “And you?”

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Me?” chuckled Dany, while slipping her finger on the edge of the cup. “I didn’t know your uncle well-“

“I wasn’t referring to my uncle but to what happened before. How are you feeling? With all the heat that come after that, with Ghost interrupting, I forgot to ask you how you were feeling.”

“Good. Very good. A bit aching between...you know but very good,” she replied, looking down, with cheeks picking colour and heating.

Jon smiled, brushing some locks from his wife’s face, and Dany looked up. “You want me to ease it?” he asked, and she immediately nodded, so finishing his cup, Jon helped Dany up, and lead his newly wife to the bed. It was a bit uncomfortable with the dragons and Ghost in the room, but maybe they won’t understand.

While sitting on the bed, they started kissing, and Jon felt his cock harden in his breeches, and feeling Dany’s hand start to grope the bulb on his breeches, making his cock jolt, while helping her out of the dress, cupping and groping her breast however Jon stopped when he heard Ghost bark and starting scratch at the door. She groaned in complaint, and so Jon ignored the direwolf, slowly lowering Dany down on the bed.

Groping and sucking, Jon started to descend down Dany’s naked body leaving sloppy kisses on her smooth skin, but when the dragon began to agitate, Jon realized that something was wrong and so he broke from Dany, getting up, earning a groan in complaint from his wife, “Jonnn...”

“Something is wrong,” he said, grabbing Longclaw, and heading for the door.

“Jon!”

But he did not stop, following Ghost's steps, that led him to Mormont's chambers. His direwolf immediately started scratching at the door of the Lord Commander, and Jon saw Dany appear behind him while tying her dress, and whispering, “What is it?”

“I don’t know. There must be someone inside that Ghost consider an enemy,” Jon replied, leaning his ear on the door after having pushed away the direwolf, but hearing nothing from the other side. Exhaling a breath, Jon glanced at Dany, saying, “Stay with Ghost. Maybe it’s nothing.”

Pulling out Longclaw and giving Dany his dagger, Jon entered the chambers, slowly. It was empty, while the fire in the hearth was blazing lively, and the wooden logs were cracking inside it.

Suddenly the door slammed, and when he turned, Jon saw one of the dead bodies appear behind him, and his eyes were blue.

“What the fuck?” Jon cursed shocked at seeing him alive, and saw the dead man charged at him, grunting knocking him down before Jon could even react, and thus making him lose Longclaw. The dead men pinned him to the wall, grunting in his face while trying to chock him.

Jon punched and kicked the dead man, trying even to gouge the corpse's eyes, but it was useless. He did not want to let him go, and soon Jon felt his breath start to quench, his eyes start to close, and his mind going black.

“Snow!” he heard Mormont’s voice, and soon the weight of the corpse was gone, as Jon gasped and started coughing. He felt his breath start to return, and shaking his head tried to get up, shaking his head.

“Jon!” Dany shouted, coming to his side, “Are you hurt?” and he felt her warm hand on his cheek, as Jon shook his head, and Dany tried to help him up. “We need to leave.”

And as they made their way towards the exit, Jon saw Ghost maul on the dead body, but soon, he felt Dany fall to the ground and saw the corpse’s hand around her ankle.

Jon immediately looked around for his sword and grabbing Longclaw cut the corpse arm that was holding Dany, before cutting his head, and run towards Mormont who was still standing there, with a frozen expression, while holding an oil lap.

“Lord Commander?”

“Look!” the man nodded, and turning Jon saw the headless corps get up. So, Jon threw the sword at him, piercing the corps, and knocking him down, while Dany threw the oil lamp on him at the same time, before getting out of the place that was on fire. The sword was lost, but he hoped the corpse was too, but when they got outside, Jon saw brothers of the watch immediately come to their Commander, with drawn swords.

“Lord Commander!” Alliser Thorne shouted.

“What happened?”

“Flowers was back to life. We managed to stop him by butchering the bodies,” Alliser said, while Jon turned to Dany, taking her back to their chambers, before he can go and check Maester Aemon.

When the marrow came, they burned all the dead bodies, beyond the Wall, fearing that they may return, and Dany heard Sam say, “They were touched by White Walkers. That's why they came back. That's why their eyes turned blue. Only fire will stop them.”

“How do you know?” asked Edd.

“I read about it in a book. A very old book in Maester Aemon's library.”

“What else did the book say?” asked Daenerys, dreading the knowledge that may come.

“The White Walkers sleep beneath the ice for thousands of years. And when they wake up... I hope The Wall is high enough,” the boy looked up the Wall, while she and Jon exchanged a knowingly look. If fire can kill White Walkers, then they need to find a way in how to make them grow faster. An ancient spell from one of those old books or maybe venture beyond the Wall in search of that al knowing thing that Aemon mentioned her.

As they were getting back to castle Black through the tunnel, Dany asked, placing her hand on his chest, “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. He was more stronger than expected,” Jon said looking down.  “However, what pains me is that I lost Mormont’s sword when we run out. Longclaw. He entrusted it to me. To protect you and I lost it.”

“Maybe not. Maybe the men will find it between the ruins. Unscathed,” Dany said, trying to reassure him, stroking his back. “But if it isn’t, you can have Dark sister.”

“No. It’s not about that. It’s just-“

“Snow. The Lord Commander wants to see you and your girl,” the first builder called for him, and they headed to Mormont’s new solar.

Upon entering, Dany saw him reading a scroll, before setting it down, and filling two cups with ale, Mormont said, “I know. I should have burnt them the moment you found them, knowing the rumours that were coming from beyond the Wall.”

“Yes. But now that is in the past,” Jon said, sitting on one of the chairs while Dany on the one next to him. “However, this showed us what they can do and how they can be killed.” Stopping, Jon took a sip, and breath, before continuing.  “Normal weapons do not kill him, and they attack even after having been butchered in pieces. Five brothers died to take down one. We need better weapons and better allies.”

“I thought we had,” Mormont retorted nodding to her at which, Dany said, “They are still young, Lord Commander, and even so, if the White Walkers are many, the dragons may not be enough and your thousand men either.”

“By your words, I understand you have a proposal to make,” Mormont retorted, taking a sip and she nodded chancing at Jon whose attention was all on her. “I’m all ears.”

And so Dany, taking a deep breath started to illustrate to them her plan about an alliance with the wildings, where to settle them and especially, should they refuse how to force them to accept without casualties, leaving the two men out of words as immediately after they fell in silence. However, the raven suddenly spoke, “Good! Good! Girls! Girls!”

“Do you understand that this cannot happen? The Wildling are the watch’s worse enemy. We lost brothers at their hands. Thousands of them.”

“And you have killed thousands of theirs,” Dany pointed out, receiving a scoff from the Old bear. Maybe she should have pondered better the words with an ally, but she only spoke the truth. “My lord. The Lannister don’t care about you, and from what Jon told me, this King beyond the Wall has more than a hundred thousand men, with giants and mammoth in his retinue. Why not make an ally of him instead of facing the Wight Walkers with few men or worse? Facing this army that would be turned in corpses.”

“I will think on the regard,” replied, Mormont, before getting up, and return a few moments later, with the sword. “We found this between the ruins, Snow.” And Jon accepted it, while Dany saw that it was damaged. “Go with it to Donal Noye. He will remake it.”

Jon nodded, and they both left, heading to find the smith together. While they were walking, Dany heard him say, “Donal Noye was smith at Storm’s End during Robert’s Rebellion and lost a hand during the siege.” And Dany stopped in the process, afraid that he may recognise her as a Targaryen. She should have had enquired, but it slept her mind because she was focused on Maester Aemon. “No, not worry. He is a good men and from what I understand, he never saw a Targaryen, while in Essos there are many who still looks like you.”

Dany said nothing as they keep walking, and upon reaching the forge, she saw the stormlander in question, tending to some broken swords. He had a chest like a keg of ale and a gut to match. His hairs were dark and reaching neck, while his nose was flat and broad, but there was no trace of beard on his face. The left sleeve of his black wool tunic was fastened at the shoulder with a silver pin in the shape of a longsword.

“Good day, Noye,” greeted him Jon. “I see you are full of weapons to repair.”

“Aye, and I suppose that by your presence her, you want my help too,” the smith retorted as Jon showed him the sword. The man took it, while glancing at her, and Dany immediately diverted her gaze away, hearing Noye laugh. “I know, I know. I’m not as handsome as Lord Snow here, but I’m certainly more sympathetic than him, and stronger.”

Earning a giggle from Dany who exchanged a glance with Jon, who smiling asked, “You lived at Storm’s End, didn’t you?”

“Aye. I was the smith of the castle. Built Robert’s mighty hammer.”

“The hammer that kill Rhaegar,” escaped Daenerys and she immediately bite her lower lip, but it was too late. Noye’s eyes were on her who said, “Aye. The Last Dragon fell under its mighty blows when the Stag smashed his breastplate.”

That was enough for her to hear, and turning on her heels, Dany run away, back to their chambers, slamming the door behind and throwing herself on the bed, letting herself got to a silent sob. Her poor valiant brother killed by a whoring stag.

Suddenly she felt something push and getting up saw that it was Ghost who came to her, and Dany immediately wrapped her arms around the direwolf, burring her face in his soft fur and continuing to sob.

Dany,” she heard Jon’s voce call her, tenderly, as he sat on the bed and her arms immediately drifted from the direwolf to her hu wrapping them tightly around his neck. “I hate him, Jon! I hate him. No matter where I turn no matter where I live. He always hunts me.”

Jon didn’t know what to do. He tried to hush her, with comforting words, but it seems that no word managed to reach her. She cried in his arms, lamenting that her family came at night demanding that she avenge them, and Jon didn’t know what to say on the regard. She never once told him about this, and now she did. Why she never revealed something that pained her so much?

“I want him dead, Jon,” he heard her say as she pull away, sniffing, and trying to clean her tears. “I want to see as his life dries away before me.”

“Dany-“

“I want the Old Lion to feel the same pain. See as what he loves crumbles.”

“Dany!” he raised his voice, and her eyes shoot up to meet his. “Why? What will this bring you if not more pain?" he asked, getting up and exhaling. Looking down, he continued, “There is nothing honourable in killing a king but it will only stain your name. Jaime Lannister is an example.”

“Don't you dare mention that man.”

“You may not like it, Daenerys, but that’s how Westeros will see you if you try to kill him” Jon said, bending before her, and placing his hands on her thighs. “Let him die of his own Dany. Soon their stranger god will claim him and the same will happen to Tywin Lannister.”

But she seemed to not have the mere intention to look at him. Jon tried to turn her face, but she pushed away, getting on the bed, and laying on her side facing the wall. He sighed, getting ready to lay next to her, but in that moment, a knock came at the door, and Jon headed to open it, seeing Edd on the other side. “What is it?”

“The carriage. It has arrived.”

And he nodded. “We will leave the moment the smith finish the sword.” Edd nodded, leaving while Jon closed the door, returning to the bed and pulling Dany to his chest. She was no longer crying but sleeping. Or maybe she was pretending she was sleeping?

King’s Landing…

After a long journey, they finally reached the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. King’s Landing. Once under the rulership of the dragons, now it was the black-crowned stag that was waving above the red city. Last time he saw the city it was in times of war, and the alleys of King’s Landing were still stained with innocent blood. Now. Now it was smelling of rotten.

A few moments later, they reached the courtyard, and as he was climbing down from the horse, Ned saw a man come in his way, who greeted him. “Welcome to King’s Landing, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honour of your presence is requested.”

Ned sighed and looking at his Capitan, said, “Get the girls settled in. I'll be back in time for supper. And, Jory, you go with them.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“If you'd like to change into something more appropriate…” but Ned ignored him, heading for the Red Keep, wondering in the meantime what urgent news required his attention before he even got the chance to settled himself properly.

Upon entering the Great Hall, that was harbouring the Iron throne, Ned stopped the moment his eyes settled upon that ugly thing. So many deaths for an Iron Chair. So many innocent taken away from this world. In that moment came back the memory of Princess Elia and her children’s butchered bodies, and his heart saddened again, lowering his head.

“Thank the Gods you're here, Stark. About time we had some stern northern leadership,” Ned heard someone say, and when he rose his eyes from the ground up, he saw the King’s slayer appear from behind the throne and sit down on the chair. Sneaky as usual ready to stab in the back his enemy like a coward.

But not having the mood to start a fight, Ned politely said, “Glad to see you're protecting the throne.

“Sturdy old thing. How many kings' asses have polished it, I wonder?” the Kingslayer said, sizing the chair.  “What's the line? The King shits and the Hand wipes.”

To witch Ned said, nodding to the golden metal he was wearing, “Very handsome armor. Not a scratch on it.”

“I know. People have been swinging at me for years, but they always seem to miss,” the arrogant lion retorted with a smirk, brushing a hand over the edge.

“You've chosen your opponents wisely then,” Ned said, without mentioning the word of 'old mad man'.

“I have a knack for it. It must be strange for you coming into this room. I was standing right here when it happened. He was very brave, your brother. Your father too. They didn't deserve to die like that. Nobody deserves to die like that.

“But you just stood there and watched,” retorted Ned, feeling his breath heaving and his anger arise.

“500 men just stood there and watched. All the great knights of the Seven Kingdoms. You think anyone said a word, lifted a finger? No, Lord Stark. 500 men and this room was silent as a crypt. Except for the screams, of course, and the Mad King laughing. And later... When I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as your father burned... It felt like justice.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night? You're a servant of justice? That you were avenging my father when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?” Or when the poor innocent Targaryen children were being butchered in their beds, Ned wanted to add but restrained.

“Tell me... If I'd stabbed the Mad King in the belly instead of the back, would you admire me more?”

“You served him well, when serving was safe,” taking a step closer, he said, “Tell me, King’s slayer, when the Targaryens will return will they be keen to spare your life, or will they see you burn?”

“The Targaryen are all dead,” the Kingslayer said, and Ned did not object, because this was slip on his part. “Or maybe there is something you want to tell me, Stark?”

But Ned did not replay heading for the small council’s chamber where the others were awaiting him. The first one to greet him was the Spider, and Ned wondered if he was the one who sent that scroll since he knew everything.

“Lord Stark.”

“Lord Varys.”

“I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery.”

“A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son,” Ned retorted, before turning his attention to the King’s Brother, the only one of them that he liked and trusted. “Renly! You're looking well.”

“And you look tired from the road. I told them this meeting could wait another day, but...”

“But we have a Kingdom to look after. I've hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me,” Baelish said, a man he knew from Brandon’s tales. “She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.”

“All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone,” the man said showing up with a grin.

“Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with,” muttered Ned, trying to keep his smirk at bay.

“It wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree.”

“I humbly beg your pardon, my Lord Stark,” Ned heard an old man say, and glancing, he saw the it was the old Maester, and he so proceed to greet him. “Grand Maester.”

“How many years has it been? You were a young man at that time.”

“And you served another King,” Ned pointed out, sitting, receiving only a breathing mumble from the old man. Ned forgot how many kings the old man saw sitting upon the Iron throne Which said a lot about his loyalty since he is a turn-cloak.

“How forgetful of me. This belongs to you, now,” the old man said, pulling out the Hand’s pine and handing it to him, before addressing the others. “Should we begin?

“Without the King?” Ned asked at the others, confused.

“Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother.”

“His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load,” the old man said, trying to clear the king’s reason, despite Ned knew what dose many cares were. Women, wine, and hunts.

“We are the lords of small matters here,” Varys said, almost in an annoyed way, and Ned nodded, exhaling, getting ready his mind for this long afternoon of listening to the maters of the Kingdoms.

Once he was done with the Hand’s duty, Ned had supper, all by himself, since his daughters decided to put up a pout, clashing with one another and not speaking with him. Not that he was surprised since after the events on the Kingsroad, Sansa hated him, and Arya hated her, extending that antagonizing behaviour to him too. He himself does not forgive himself for taking the noble direwolf’s life, but better by his hand than of one of the Lannister butchers who would use the fur to adorn their capes.

The first one to whom he paid visit was his youngest daughter, but when he reached the door, Ned found it locked and so he knocked, “Arya. Are you in there?”

“Go away!”

“Open the door, Arya,” he said, in a commanding way, hearing mumbling from the inside and a few moments later the door got unlocked, and his little wolf peeked from behind it with a questioningly look. “May I come in?” and Arya, after a few moments of hesitation let him in. Ned smiled, entering inside, but that smile did not last long as he noticed a weapon in her hand. “Whose sword is that?”

“Mine,” she retorted proudly.

“Give it to me,” Ned said, stretching his arm, and she did, puffing. “I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work,” he continued examining the trims, while heading to the bed. Sitting, on the box at the foot of it, Ned looked at his daughter, demanding answers. “Where did you get this? This is no toy, and you know. Little ladies shouldn't play with swords.”

“I wasn't playing. And I don't want to be a lady,” retorted his daughter, with furrowed eyebrows., crossing her arms, and sulking. Something she had in common with Jon…and Lya.

“Come here,” he patted the spot next to him. “Now what do you want with this?”

“It's called Needle.”

“A blade with a name. And who were you hoping to skewer with Needle? Your sister?” asked Ned, looking at the sword, before glancing at his daughter when heard no word came from her. “Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?”

“Stick'em with the pointy end,” she said making Ned chuckle. Those were his sister’s words too when their father caught her wielding a weapon. “I asked Mycah to practice with me. I asked him, father. It was my fault.”

“No, sweet girl. You didn't kill the butcher's boy,” Ned said, pulling his daughter in an embrace.

“I hate them! I hate all of them. The Hound, the Queen, and the King and Joffrey and Sansa.”

“Sansa was dragged before the King and Queen... And asked to call the Prince a liar.”

“So was I! He is a liar.”

“Darling, listen to me. Sansa will be married to Joffrey someday. She cannot betray him. She must take his side, even when he's wrong.”

"But how you can let her marry someone like that?”

“Well…" but no excuse seemed to want to come on the regard. Exhaling, he said. "Look at me. You're a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words.”

“Winter is coming.”

“You were born in the long summer. You've never known anything else. But now winter is truly coming. And in the winter, we must protect ourselves, and look after one another. Sansa is your sister.”

“I don't hate her. Not really,” mumbled Arya, looking down, and Ned sighed. “I don't want to frighten you, but I won't lie to you either. We've come to a dangerous place. We cannot fight a war amongst ourselves. All right?” and she nodded, so he gave her the sword back. “Go on. It's yours.”

“I can keep it?”

Ned chuckled. “Try not to stab your sister with it. If you're going to own a sword, you'd better know how to use it.” Before heading towards the door.

“Why did you send her away?” Ned heard Arya ask as he was about to close the door behind.

“Hm?”

“Naerys. She was my friend,” Arya continued, as Ned got back inside, closing the dor. “She was the only one who did not force upon me the burden of a lady.” Stopping, Arya, sighed, and looking up, asked, “Was it because of what happened in the courtyard between Jon and Robb that day? Because of their fight? Are you punishing her for putting brother against brother?”

“Punishing? No sweet child. Naerys left with Jon on her own choice.”

“But she did not even say goodbye to me,” Arya complained, and Ned’s heart saddened at the sight of his daughter’s disappointed expression, and so he decided to tell her the truth, hoping that it won’t backfire him.

“Arya. There is something I want to tell you, but you need to tell no one about it.

“What?” she asked eagerly.

“Promise me.”

“I promise. Now what it’s about?”

“The girl. Your friend. Her name isn’t really Naerys Storm, but Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen,” and his daughter’s mouth fell open, with a shocked and confused expression. “That’s the reason of why I sent her with Jon. King Robert would have killed her if he saw her at Winterfell. And would have hurt our family too.”

Arya opened and closed her mouth a few times, glancing between him and the floor confusedly, but without voicing them. “But if that is what you feared why did you bring her to Winterfell?”

“Because she had no other place where to go, sweet girl. She lost her brother in an attack, and her only other relative was miles away. Would you have preferred if I left her at the mercy of the unknown fate that would have led her to countless sufferings?"

And his daughter lowered her head, shaking it, and Ned sat down next to her, “She is still the Naerys you knew. Nothing changed.”

“Will I still be able to see her one day?

“Of course, you will,” Ned reassured the little girl, and she smiled while getting up. “I cannot way to show her Needle.”

Ned chuckled, getting up. “Remember to keep the secret,” and Arya nodded. “Now off to bed. The hour of the owl is coming,” and left the room after taking one last glance at his daughter who was practicing with her sword. Now it was time to speak with Sansa, and Ned knew it will be an arduous path to walk.

Chapter Text

They were finally back from the Wall, and everyone was happy, especially her dragons who were able to stretch their wings by flying in the sky around the castle. She, on the other hand, had all the intention in consuming their wedding night properly this time, on even though delayed by one month. But is not like she is complaining about what they did before.

Once Maester Aemon was settled for the day, Dany went in search of Dorhea wanting to enquire the girl on how properly please Jon because she wanted to return the favour and make him feel magnificent, because that’s how she felt when he pleasured her with the tongue.

However, on her way, Dany stumbled upon a new face who was with Tom’s daughter. An old man. Short, sturdy and with shoulder-length white hairs. He was wearing a long robe, red and blue, and of course, wasn’t hanging on his right shoulder, but he wasn't a Maester. He did not have the Iron Chain around his neck.

“Oh, good day my lady,” greeted her the girl, making a reverence, while Dany smiled, wanting to say that there was no need for such formalities, before turning her attention to the old man, who bowed, and greeted her, in high Valyria.

“Ydra ji Valyre?”       

“Aye. Forgive me for not introducing myself before. I fear that with the coming of old age, my wit is slipping away,” the man replied, bowing again, in apologise this time.

“There is nothing to forgive, Ser. You did nothing wrong,” smiled Daenerys, clapping her hands before her. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you before at Magthol.”

“I am, my lady. I’ve arrived with Asher’s retinue this morning.”

“Asher?” asked Dany confused, since she never heard this name before.

“Forgive me. Asher is a Northern from House Forester who saved me from the lost Legion in Essos,” the man clarified, and in that moment, Dany remembered the stories about this sellsword company that operated in the slavery bay. A remnant of the ancient Ghiscari legions they were is she correctly remembered Viserys’ words. “On a ship sailing from Astapor, we heard about a famous bastard in the north, newly made Lord, and who seeking swords to hire at his service.”

“That’s how you got here?”

“Yes, my lady. Lord Jon kindly offered us a hot meal and a roof for the night."

"I see. And tell me, good man, should you be offered a place, what can you do?"

"I was a healer in the Free Cities if we can put it that way, and it was precisely that mansion that got me into trouble with the legion. Thought if I can be honest with you my lady, it was more my desire for knowledge."

Dany did not reply, trying to read the man and see if he was lying, but he seemed to be honest, and knowing that the girl who was accompanying him, had other mansions to attend, stepped aside, “Thank you for your time, good man. I leave you in the care of Alyce. Have a good day."

“Thank you, my lady,” the man bowed, following Alyce, while Dany headed for the great hall to meet this…Asher Forester. See what kind of man wants to join their household. To see if he is a trustworthy man or someone like Ramsey Snow, a man she did not like and hoped that Jon will send away soon. Better with his tongueless of course.

Upon entering, Dany saw a young man sitting at the table with Jon, chatting and laughing, something very rare coming from Jon. He was tall and slender, as she could see, with short dirty blonde hairs, and beard.

Then, turning, she saw a tall woman lying on the stone throne, with one leg hanging down from the armchair, and folding with a dagger. She had long dark brown hairs, tied behind, bright green eyes, while her face had many scratches. A fighter she must be.

Her gaze then returned to the man, who noticed her presence, and immediately got up, greeting her, “My lady.”

“Naerys,” Jon immediately got up, coming to her side, and kissing her forehead, while hugging. “Come. I want you to meet someone,” he said, as he led her towards the man. “This is-“

“Asher Forester,” she finished his words, meeting the young northman’s green eyes, as he bowed with a smug on his face, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Naerys.” Straightening back, the young man, stretching his hand beckoned for the woman to come. “This is my dearest friend Beskha. We met in Essos four years ago.”

“Pleased to meet you, lady Beskha.”

“Pha! Lady? I’m not a lady,” scoffed the woman with some rudeness, crossing her arms, and Dany’s smile disappeared.

“Beskha doesn’t like that word. She was a Pit Fighter before our meeting.”

But Jon was the one to speak before her, saying, “The reason why Asher is hers is because he heard about my appointment as Lord of this castle and the construction of the harbour. He is hopping that Lord Stark may grant him a seat too in the gift so that he has the chance to marry the woman he loves.”

And upon hearing that, Dany’s attention turned to him, with a raised eyebrow, who, becoming serious, said, “I fell in love with the daughter of my House sworn enemy. We were seeing each other secretly until we were discovered, and after a confrontation with my father, I ran away from the North.”

“What makes you think she is still a free woman?”

“I don't know. I've been away for four years. Anything is possible.”

“But if she is married-“

“Then she will become a widow,” he cut her, taking a long sip, and earning a chuckle from the woman. Dany exchange a glance with Jon, who, took her hand, and said, “I will ask Lord Stark about that, and see if there are castles still available, but I hope you understand Asher, that in your plan there is a hole. Your father.”

“Do not worry about my father, Jon. Now that I am here, I intend to clear things up with him, and if he is still of the same mind, then we will go back to Essos and continue the life of a sellsword."

"Remember that the doors of my castle are always open. I need swords at my service. Especially for the war to come."

"Against whom?" asked the woman.

"A story for another day and maybe before some cups of ale," said Jon, and Asher seem to realize that it was time to take the leave. Getting up, the man said. "Since the sun is still high, we will set out for Ironrath."

Jon nodded, as the two left, and once alone, Dany asked, “How well do you know the man?”

“I don't. This was the first time I met him. But I heard about him from Theon and Robb," Jon replied, fiddling with her fingers.

"And you trust him?"

"Trust him? Yes. I think I do. He seems like a genuine man," Jon replied, sighing, and getting up, filled two goblets of ale. "How is Maester Aemon?”

“He is well, but tired after the long journey,” she replied, taking a sip, but not liking the taste for some strange reason, as her belly turned. Putting it aside, and swallowing, Dany started, “Jon. The old man-“

“I know. But as long as he is here, he won’t say a word,” he said. “He seemed a good man too, thought I don’t know if I’m much of a good judge of character.”

“Too many people are aware about who I am and have seen my dragons, Jon. Soon the Lannister and the Usurper will find out and we don’t have the man to fight them, should they come with the mightiest of the Seven Kingdoms behind. The dragons aren’t ready to fight either”

“I know, Dany. I know,” he tried to reassure her caressing her cheek. “We will sort it. I promise you that they won’t hurt you or the Dragons. Never. And I mean it.”

She nodded, but her worries weren’t at bay, and feeling her husband lean and kiss her lips. Dany let him lead her, parting her lips and letting his tongue slide in as Jon deepened the kiss, feeling the taste of ale on his tongue.

“What are you doing?” she breathed. “Someone may come-“

“No one will come,” he breathed against her lips, planting kisses on her lips. “Everyone know…(kiss)…not to come…(kiss)…when the lord and his beautiful wife are in her…alone.”

Dany chuckled, but those words were enough to set her on fire, and with a swift move got up from her chair and sat on his lap, feeling Jon’s cock harden in his breeches. Without wasting time, she collided her lips with his starting to kiss him heatedly, and even biting his lips.

Moans and Groans echoed through the hall, as they continued to kiss, and Dany felt Jon fumble with her dress, and starting to lift it up. A louder chocking moan escaped her when Jon found her wet folds, and started to stroke his fingers up and down her covered slit, teasingly, and Dany heard her husband whisper, “You are so wet, my little dragon…that I could drink from you”

Dany chuckled, panting, opening his tunic and burying her hand inside wanting to feel his brood chest and the muscles that were lower on his abdomen, however his hand on her womanhood was making it a bit difficult to enjoy his shapes.

When Jon suddenly pushes two fingers inside her, after making an opening, Dany gasped, muttering a ‘Fuck!’, and digging her nails in to his flesh.

“Ouch!” he complained, breaking from her, but not pulling out, and Dany blushed, muttering an apologies, before kissing his jaw and bit his earlobe, while her hand moved lower, blindly fumbling with the laces of his breeches. When she grabbed his hard shaft, Jon groaned against her lips, while finger fucking her, thrusting in and out of her at a very fast pace.

Dany tried to keep her moans at bay, but in vain, and she could not even please him too with her hand, because the pleasure was uncontrollable, and Dany was sure she will come soon, however Jon stopped pulling out his fingers, and her eyes shoot open, as she, straightening, said, “Why are you stopping?!”

But her husband did not reply, sucking her juice from his fingers before pushing her up. Dany again gave him a confused expression, “Jon?”

Yet he again did not reply, turning her back to him. Pushing her hairs behind, Jon started to leave wet sloppy kisses on her naked shoulder, and in the meantime loosen the bow holding her gown together, enough to be able to push it down her shoulders and to the floor, before he did the same with her smallclothes.

“What are you doing?” she breathed, finding herself completely naked, biting her lips and leaning against the table, but Jon still did not reply and soon enough Dany found herself completely naked before him.

Bringing his hand to hers, Jon intertwined them together, and taking a long sniff of her scent, whispered, while pushing his still hard covered cock against her ass, “I always dreamed of this.”

“Then take me,” she whispered, rubbing her ass against him, and felt Jon leave her hands, and start to undress. 

Dany bit her lip, with closed eyes, and feeling her whole body in trepidation for what was about to happen, and he moment his cock sprung free, it collided with her ass and Jon run his member up and down the split, before stopping at her entrance, as she leaned more, and spread her legs more, to give him more room.

Grabbing her hips with one hand, Jon guided his cock towards her drenched entrance, rubbing the tip over her wet slit, nudging her clit a few torturous times, sending jolts all over her body, before finally lining himself up at her trembling cunt.

Then with one slow thrust, Jon entered inside her. She gasped and arched her back, trying to make more room for him inside her. Gods! Dany felt that she was about to come by the mere intrusion of his member.

Jon groaned loud and long as he sank into her, groping her breasts. “Gods, Dany, you’re so tight. You feel amazing.”

She whimpered, bracing herself against the table as he pushed the last few inches in and bottomed out. Her husband rested his forehead against her back and held still for a few moments, breathing heavily. He pressed a kiss to the top of her spine, cupped and rubbed her breasts, pinching her nipples, before he started to move.

Dany moaned as he rocked his hips, before grabbing hers with both hands, and started to thrust in her in a slow agonising pace, and she was struggling to keep herself up.

“Dany,” he breathed against her shoulder, while biting it. “Gods, you are so perfect.”

His pace increased, his hips rolling hard and fast as he gripped her waist to hold her in place. The thick pressure of his cock was scrambling her brain, and Dany gasped and swore, mumbling nonsense as he fucked into her again and again and again.

“I love you,” he whispered, giving one last push before pulling out of her, making Dany lament the loss of his cock inside her, especially because she was so close.

She felt being turned and pulled up. Dany immediately wrapped arms and legs around his body, as Jon started to kiss her while carrying her away from the table. “Don’t drop me!”

Jon sank down on the throne chuckling, earning a yelp from his wife, as she braced herself on his shoulder, before he pushed some locks away from her beautiful face, before kissing her heatedly. Dany moaned, and he felt her move the hand down his body. Grabbing his cock, she purred, “You know... we're not done yet. You stopped right on the high point.”

He chuckled, feeling Dany rise on her knees a bit, and lean his cock with her entrance before she sank down on him,

His wife rode with all the confidence she rode her horse, Snowmane. Her perfect breasts bounced wildly in time with her motions, and the sound of her hips crashing down onto him echoed through the hall, while her screams Jon was sure could be heard all across North. Let them hear them. 

“AH! AH! AH!” Dany moaned each time she dropped down onto him. She sheathed his cock inside of her, rose her hips back up as fast as she could and repeated the process all over again. “So good! you feel so good inside of me, my sweet white wolf!”

“Fuck, Dany! I’m coming,” he growled, warning her, yet she did not get down from him. On the contrary. She rode him even harder, despite her walls were almost ripping him off, forcing her body down onto his hard enough that Jon was glad they were on a stone chair.

“FUCK!” Dany screamed as she felt him come inside of her, before she fell on him. His wife remained impaled on his cock and rocked her hips back and forth, with the last remaining strength she had, while resting her head on his chest.

They were panting, and Jon felt himself soften inside her. The spot where they were, was completely drenched of their combined juice, and Jon held his wife to his chest, while trying to take deep breaths and regain their normal breathing.

Running his fingers up and down her spine, slowly, Jon whispered, “By the Old Gods. I never saw you…like this.”

And Dany started to giggle burring her face in the crock of his neck, kissing him. “Actually, my plans were far more different than this.”

“Different?” he chuckled, glancing down, seeing her fumble with the laces of his tunic. “What dirty plan have you concocted my sweet lady?"

But Dany shook her head, refusing to answer, and Jon could swear that if she wasn't already red because of their love session, his wife was blushing.

Changing the subject of their conversation, Jon said, “Good news had come from Winterfell. Bran woke up.”

“Really?” she asked happily while raising up, and Jon nodded.

“But someone tried to attack him,” he said, fumbling with her silver-golden locks.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. But Lady Stark left for King’s Landing to inform Lord Stark on the regard and show him the dagger of the assassin,” he said as she got down, and went to gather her dress. “I have the intention to travel to Winterfell and see him. I also want to talk with Robb about the coming war and enquire him on what had happened. I don’t think Bran fell on his own.”

“Then that’s what we should do,” Dany said as she was putting back on the dress.

“Not you. You will stay here,” he said, approaching her, and helping Dany with the dress. “The dragons are restless when caged or even to be hidden during our stay in Winterfell, and by how the winds are blowing at Winterfell, I don’t want to take a risk.” When she did not react to his words, Jon turned her reassuring Dany. “I won’t be away for long anyway,”

 His words seem not to reach her, as she was still looking down, but before he could raise her chin to look in the beautiful amethyst eyes, Dany said, “Is there anything else you want me to do, my lord? Or am I free to go?”

"What?" chuckled Jon, lifting her chin, confused by her words, but Dany stubbornly opposed, and so Jon let her go.

Without saying another word, Dany stormed out the hall, as Jon sat on the Lord’s chair, sighing, and wondering why she got angry.

Dany was marching through the hallway, heading outside to take some air. She was so furious with Jon for not letting her come with him, and yet, she knew he was right. The dragons did not like being cage, and their displeasure on the regard was well…noise.

Once outside, Dany saw the people do their manse. There were few her at the castle, as the more part of them was at the harbour continuing with the buildings.

As she looked around, Dany spotted Ser Jorah sparing with a wooden man, and smile to see him back up.

“Ser Jorah. I see you are well."

"My lady," the man turned, bowing, greeting her. "Yes. My wounds are almost completely healed, and my arm longed to wield the sword again."

“I’m glad. We will need your skills, especially after what happened at the wall.”

“What happened?” Jorah asked, confused, and she moved towards the table with the jug of water and the cups.

“The Wight Walkers attacked the Wall. They tried to kill your father, but I assure you…he is well.”

“Thank you, my lady. I ow you a great debt in that,” Ser Jorah, and she smiled, wanting to tell him that there was no need for that, but laughs interrupted them, and as she turned Dany saw Ramsay Snow with a group of men, playing dice. Myranda was sitting on his lap, and suddenly the situation changed, as Ramsay stuck the dagger in the man’s hand before he could grab the dice.

She wanted to intervene in this and scold the man as Lady of Magthol, but Ser Jorah stopped her, “he is a dangerous man, my lady. No need to make an enemy of him,” to which Dany said, shrugging his hand off, “Those are our men, Ser Jorah. If we can’t treasure their life, why would they give their life for us.”

So, she went straight towards the Bolton bastard. “We need to talk, Ramsay.”

“After the game,” the man said, throwing the dice, but she stopped them with her hand, and leaning said, “Now.” Before looking at the other saying, “Take him to Maester Aemon. He will take care of his wound.”

She lead him back inside, to the great Hall, hoping that Jon was there, and Ser Jorah came with him. However, when she got there, her husband was already off, but not the stench of sex.

“Mmmm….I see that you have been busy.”

Dany, Ignoring his words, said instead, bluntly, “You cannot hurt the man, Ramsay. We need them. If you will ever try to hurt them again, I will unleash my fire beasts upon you.”

“You have guts to threaten me, lady. Definitely more than your husband.”

“Then you know I’m serious on this regard.”

“Oh, I do, I do. I will no longer hurt anyone,” the man said, and after a bow left, despite she did not dismiss him. “Ramsay Snow will be a great problem.”

King’s Landing…

The Hand’s tourney. That’s what it was called this thing, and it was finally ending. It was the last day. One last semi-final was happening at the moment, and the winner of this till will face the Hound.

The Knight of Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell, was facing Tywin Lannister’s mad dog, Gregor Clegane also know as the Mountain. Every time Ned saw him, the memory of Princess Elia and her children came back to mind, and anger arise, because Robert did not show justice that day.

Now he needed to assist to this antic and look at the man that boasts himself as a ‘Ser’, and with the funny thing being that it was the last dragon who awarded him with that title.

Before the tilt started, the knight of flower approached their stands and gave Sansa a red rose. “My lady.”

“Thank you, Ser Loras,” Sansa smiled, accepting the gift, as the man rode away with a smug on his face. He was so full of himself, just like every southern son of a Lord, and to his disappointment also Robb with his behaviour with the Princess.

“Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him,” Ned heard his daughter say, as she griped his arm, and ned glanced at her, seeing Sansa squeeze her eyes. “I can't watch.”

Before he could reassure her, Ned heard Baelish say loudly, and with arrogance, sure of himself, “100 gold dragons on the Mountain.”

“I'll take that bet,” Renly voiced himself, as those near started to talk.

“Now what will I buy with 100 gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish wine? Or a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys?”

“Or you could even buy a friend,” joked the king’s brother, earning the laughts of those around.

“He's going to die, isn’t it?”

“Ser Loras rides well. He will win,” Ned reassured his daughter.

When the go was given, the two men collided, and the winner was Ser Loras Tyrell, who unhorsed the Mountain, as everyone gasped before they burst out cheering for the young man, and his daughter with them, even though in silence.

“Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would have been so nice for you to have a friend,” Ned heard the King’s brother say, earning the laughs of those who were next to time, to which Baelish retorted, “And tell me, Lord Renly, when will you be having your friend?” quenching the laughs, and while leaning towards him, the man whispered, “Loras knew his mare was in heat. Quite crafty, really.”

“Ser Loras would never do that! There's no honour in tricks,” said Sansa, almost as if she did not want to believe that a knight in a shining armour could cheat, but Ned knew he did. They all do at some point if it benefits them.

“No honour, but quite a bit of gold.”

However, suddenly Clegane beheaded his horse, stunning the crowd and without hesitation, charged at the knight of flowers, starting to attack him. Ser Loras was knocked down and defending himself only with the small wooden shield used in the joust.

Ned expected for the King to stop this madness, and yet Robert didn’t almost as if he was enjoying the moment, until it was the Hound who, running down from the stands stepped between his brother and the Loras Tyrell.

They started fighting clashing like two mountains, until it was Robert who getting up, roared, “Stop this madness in the name of your King!” and the hound immediately got down to one knee, bracing himself on the sword, while The Mountain grunted in rage at the missed swing, throwing his greatsword to the ground and stormed out of the field.

Loras Tyrell approached the Hound, pulling him up, and rising his hand in victory, while Ned saw Jory walk to him, and whisper, “There is someone who wants to see you, Lord Stark.”

“Who?” asked Ned confused.

“I don’t know. But they come from Essos,” Jory said, and Ned immediately felt his heart pounding, glancing at the king, before getting up, and while leaving, Ned commanded. “Stay with Sansa till the end, and then take her back to her rooms.”

However, before leaving the field, Ned spotted a young boy, with blonde hairs standing next to the tent with the Dondarrion emblem, looking at him, but not having time to find out what the boy wanted, Ned rushed to his horse and back to the Red Keep, to the hand’s solar. Upon reaching the said place, Ned saw a tall dark-skinned man, with foreign clothes, a thought expression and a spear in his hand, while at his hips other weapons were hanging.

“Are you the one requesting an audience with the king's hand?" Ned asked, but the man did not answer, stepping aside, and he realized that it wasn't the man who was waiting for him. Opening the door, Ned saw another hooded person waiting inside, and as he closed the door behind, he said, “Are you the one requesting an audience with the king's hand?"

However, the voice instead said, "I never thought I would see you in this place again after what happened to you." Ned could feel something familiar in it, and as he sat on his chair, he saw she who was a masked woman, who lowering her hood revealed her long dark hair. "You never liked the South. Do you do now?"

"Who are you?"

The woman did not answer, removing her mask, and Ned gasped, not believing to his eyes. "Ashara?"

"Hello, Ned."

Chapter Text

King’s Landing…

“Hello Ned.”

“What…How…” but he could not form a question, still shocked at seeing her alive and well standing there before him.

“I know. It’s difficult to believe I’m alive and that is a long story of what happened to me, Eddard, but that not the reason of why I am here,” she said,  as Ned gave her a puzzled expression.  “Where is she, Eddard? Where is the princess? Where is Daenerys? Is she at Winterfell?” Ned needed a moment to finally understand to what she was referring and tensing while shifting in his seat.  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You do, Ned.  You do. We may have been together only for a short amount of time, but I know you Ned.  I know you are not good at lying. “

“Maybe you don’t know me enough,” wanting to laugh his ass at having fooled the kingdoms in hiding Jon.

“She is in Winterfell, isn’t she?”

“I will tell you again, Ashara.  I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ned said, but feeling His heart pounding. He will have to inform Jon and the girl on this regard.

“You have till dusk to inform us about the girl’s location. At first lights of tomorrow, Sádaba will inform King Robert about your treason,” Ashara said getting up. “Choose Lord Stark. House Stark or House Targaryen.”

 “Why are you doing this, Ashara?” ned said, getting up as she was about to leave. “What have I ever done to you so bad that you want my family’s death?”

“You killed my dear brother Arthur,” she said, with such a coldness that Ned shivered under her gaze of purple eyes. Not even the Wall was as cold as her stare. “You have till dusk to choose. You will find me at the Prancing Stag on the Street of Silk.”

With those words, she left him there, baffled and not knowing how to deal with it, while at the same time, Ned saw Jory enter, “A raven. From Winterfell.”

Ned nodded taking it, and saying instead, “Jory. I have an assignment for you. I want you to barrow a raven from the Maester and send it to Winterfell. Tell Robb that Naerys and Jon are in danger and that he needs to warn them.”

“In danger, Lord Stark?”

Ned nodded. “But say no words about this matter. It needed to be done immediately and without arousing suspicion.”

“Then I shall do it at once,” the man bowed, leaving, as ned sighed, feeling all his body on fire, and immediately filed himself a goblet of water. If words reach Robert’s ear, war will break, and Med was sure that they will lose because they cannot face the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. He will need to find allies. And Ned knew the perfect House that would suit them best. So, finishing his goblet, Ned left his solar, heading in search of the Knight of Flower.

He found him in his chambers, while breaking his fast with the King’s brother. “Ser Loras. Renly.” He greeted the two. “May I have a word with you Ser Loras?”

“Of course,” stammered the boy, shifting in his seat, almost as if he was afraid of him, “But I would like for Lord Renly to be present at the conversation.”

“Of course,” Ned said, as he sat down, and heard the boy say, “If I offended you somehow, during the Tourney, Lord Stark-“

“It’s not about that. I am here to propose you an alliance, Ser Loras. A union between House Stark and House Tyrell that will be mutually profitable."

And the boy exchanged a look, with Renly. "Lord Stark. If it's about Lady Sansa-"

“No. This does not concern Sansa but my eldest son. I want to propose a union between your sister, Lady Margaery and my heir, Robb.”

And that seemed to surprise both young men, whose mouths dropped while a chuckle escaped Renly.

“A very tempting proposal, Lord Stark, but I am afraid I am not allowed to deal with such matters. As you know, my sister Margaery is the jewel of House Tyrell. Its rose. And she deserves the best. And that applies to Highgarden as well."

"Of course, Loras does not mean that your son is not worthy of her, Lord Stark," stepped in Renly, in a more diplomatic way. "It's just that such matters are handled by Lady Ollena. And I'm sure you have heard about her reputation and how she does not like to be crossed, or to be or be kept in the dark about such sensitive matters."

"Of course. And I hope Ser Loras will be able to inform her about my proposal as soon as possible. I will look forward to hear a reply," Ned said, getting up and leaving the room. Well! The seed has been planted. Now all that was left was for it to take root and the rich house to accept.

Hours later, Ned made his mind and was ready to pay a visit to Ashara. Inform her of his decision but right outside, he stumbled upon Littlefinger, who mockingly bowed making way, “Lord Hand.”

“Lord Baelish.”

“I heard you received word from Winterfell,” the man said, and Ned immediately stopped turning towards him, with a questioning look. “Good news? Perhaps you'd like to share it with your wife?

“My wife is in Winterfell.”

“Is she?” the man asked, with his usual sneer, before nodding. “Come.”

He shouldn’t as dusk was upon them, but Ned followed Baelish who led him to his brothel it seems. And Ned did not like this. Right before he was about to enter, Ned grabbed the man by the throat, pinning him against the great door, starting to choke Baelish, and hiss, “What game are you playing, Baelish?”

I thought that she'd be safest in here. One of several such establishments I own,” the man tried to reply between chocks.

“You're a funny man. A very funny man.”

In that moment, he heard his wife’s voice call his name, “Ned!” and looking up, he saw Catelyn poking her head out of a window, and so he immediately let go Baelish, rushing inside, and up the stairs. The moment he reached the room, she immediately came to hug him tightly as he did the same, before breaking and scolding her.

“What are you doing here. I thought I was clear you have to stay in Winterfell and help Robb with the lordship.”

“But I had to come, Ned. I had to inform you that Tyrion Lannister tried to kill our son. And I could not trust a raven to carry on those words.”

Ned did not reply, sighing, and looking at the dagger. This belonged once to House Targaryen, carried in battle by the last dragon and then taken as a spoil of war. Now in the hands of a Lannister who used it to kill his son. When those ghost from the past will stop hunting?

“The mere suggestion that the Queen's brother tried to kill your boy would be considered treason,” Baelish said, to which his wife retorted, taking the dagger from his hand, “We have proof. We have the blade.”

“Which Lord Tyrion will say was stolen from him. The only man who could say otherwise has no throat, thanks to your boy's wolf.”

She looked towards him then, saying, “Petyr has promised to help us find the truth. He's like a little brother to me. He would never betray my trust.”

“I'll try to keep you alive, for her sake. A fool's task, admittedly, but I've never been able to refuse your wife anything.”

“I won't forget this. You're a true friend,” she said, but in that moment, there were more concerning news that were worrying him and that he needed to take care of before those damn Lannister.

“Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain,” Baelish retorted, as they left the brothel, and Ned walked her towards the gates of King’s Landing that were facing the northern side.

“I wish I could see the girls.”

“It's too dangerous,” ned said, not only because of the Lannister he wanted to say.

“Just for a moment, Ned.”

“Until we know who our enemies are...”

“I know they did it, Ned. The Lannisters. In my bones, I know it,” she insisted, while he shook his head. “But I can see there is more that is troubling you, my Lord. What is it?”

“Nothing. But Littlefinger's right. I can't do anything without proof,” Ned said, which mirrored something he will use against Ashara when he will have the conversation about the princess.

“And if you find the proof?”

“I don’t know, Cat,” he sighed, holding her, and looking down. “Robert is different now from how I remembered him when we were boys.  His rule is dependent on the Lannisters.” However, Seeing that time was running out and he did not have much left before chaos break out, he said, “You watch yourself on the road, huh? That temper of yours is a dangerous thing.”

“My temper? Gods be good, you nearly killed poor Littlefinger yesterday,” she chuckled, and he joined her in that.

“He still loves you.”

“Does he?”

“Off with you,” he said, after kissing her, and as she was leaving King’s Landing, Ned looked up at the sky. He needed to hurry up.

It wasn’t difficult to find the place where Ashara was, and once inside, Ned saw the man, Sádaba if he remembered correctly, sit at one of the table with her, breaking their fast, and so he immediately went there. The moment they noticed him, the man tensed, hands on his weapons, but Ashara reassured him, “Are you here to tell us the girl's location?"

"No. I'm here to talk with you. Only with you," Ned replied, glancing at the man, seeing Ashara nod, and getting up, heading for the stairs that were leading up to the room. Ned didn't like this much, but went along and once inside, he locked the door behind, demanding, "Tell me why you want so much to know about the Targaryens?"

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can. And you will,” Ned said taking a step closer. “Unless you want me to tell Robert that he has enemies within the walls and your heads will be adorning the red walls before the Hour of the owl.”

The woman smirked, “Or I can tell Robert that his best friend is hiding a dragon under his roof that one day will bring his house down,” and as turning, she added glancing over her shoulder, “Or should I say…Three dragons.”

At that, Ned become while as a ghost. His heart pounding and his throat drying. How by the old Gods did she knew about the dragon? Jon and the Princess must have been carless in their exposing.

“I know. You may wonder how we know this. Suffice it to say that there are forces in this world far stronger than you and me. Than dragons and wolves or than kings and lords.”

“You keep saying ‘we’. For whom are you working, Ashara?”

“For beings that cannot be challenged,” she replied, moving towards the window and leaning with crossed arms. “For the past seventeen years I have lived with the hope of seeing her again, Ned, but your actions are making that reunion so difficult.”

“What reunion? Who are you talking about?”

“Our daughter, Ned,” she said, and in that moment, he felt as his whole word was crashing down. “Allyria is ten and eight by now. A woman growth and I missed all of her youth. All of her childhood.”

“Allyria?” he gasped the girl’s name, as he sat down on the bed, with hands in his hairs. “But I thought she was your sister?”

“Yes. I can imagine my elder brother do something like that,” she said, as she turned to look at him. “But she is not. She is my daughter. Our daughter. Conceived when we slept in Harrhenal. I’m sure you figured that out.”

Ned was out of words. Fingers deep in his hairs, while holding his head. How was it possible? How was it possible that he did not see her in the child? That he did not see part of himself in the child?

“Tell me where she is Ned,” he heard Ashara say, as he, looking up instead, said, “How could you leave her?” She did not reply, as Ned stood up, and grabbing her by the arms, shouted, “HOW!”

In that moment, the man that accompanied Ashara burst in, pointing his spear at him, and saying some words in Valyrian, but Ned did not let her go. “How could you leave our daughter?!”

“I did not leave her!” she screamed back between tears, as Ned let her go, and Ashara fell the floor crying. Soon Ned was backed to the wall and blade under his troth.

“Princess,” the man said, in the common tongue, however Ned did not reply. If this was the end let it be. He lived with the soldiers. He learned long time ago what death meant. Yet the man did not do it. He let him go moving away. Ashara added a few more words, and the man left but not before glaring at him.

Once they were alone, Ned sighed, “Forgive me.” But she did not reply, while getting up, sniffing. “How did you disappear?”

“It’s a long story,” she replied, cleaning her tears, as Ned filled a goblet with water, and gave it to her.

“Why did you say that my actions will make the reunion with our daughter difficult?”

“Because this wasn’t Daenerys’ destiny, Ned,” Ashara said, taking a sip of water. “She was supposed to birth the dragons, marry the Khal and end up in the red waste.” The woman stopped, taking another sip and some breath, before continuing. “From there, she would have reached Qarth, where she would have handed the dragons to the warlocks.”

“So that is what they want to free you? The dragons?” Ned asked, and Ashara nodded. “Then they will have the dragons, but not the Princess.”

At which Ashara giving a weak smiling, shook her head, saying, “They need for her to be there too, Ned. I’m sure you saw for yourself that the dragons obey only to her.”

“Then there is no deal,” he said ending the conversation and ready to leave, only to be stopped by her, who grabbing his arm, said, “You are playing with forces that go beyond your understanding, Ned. You are playing with fate.”

“Man is the maker of his fate, not the gods, or your warlocks. You should have understood that by now. It is the choices we make that lead to outcome. If my choices will lead me to war with your masters, then I must get ready to do so.”

She let him go, clapping her hand before her belly, looking down, “Then you sealed my fate too. I will be a prisoner for the rest of my life unable to leave Qarth again and never being able to meet our daughter.”

“Then don’t go. Stay here. Or go back to Starfall.”

“I can’t,” she said, showing him some bracelets. “Those are made by sorcery. They are like chains but only that they bond me to the warlocks’ will. I can do nothing but obey them when I have them. And I had them since the moment they took me the day after I gave birth.”

“Why?”

“Because House Dayne is a descendant of the Amethyst Princess, Ned. There is magic in our blood just like in yours or in the Targaryen’s even if it isn’t as strong as theirs. And now, to be free from them, I need to take the girl to them.”

“You cannot ask me to hand over a young girl to warlocks who will use her for their own ends. You should know how I feel when it comes to innocents. And she is, Ashara. She is not guilty of her father's actions.”

“Do you think I want this, Ned? I don’t. I don’t want for her to be there just like I don’t want for them to get their hands on our daughter now that she is of age and whose blood is stronger than mine as she is the union of our two bloodlines. But if I don’t do that then they will never stop from chasing us.”

Ned sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t let you take her. But I ask you that you gave me a few days in order that I get ready the North for what will happen.”

She nodded, “Two weeks Ned. Two weeks to try and secure your House. After that, Sádaba will tell Robert about her, and he will volunteer to lead a party to the North to take her.”

Ned did not react to her word as he left. He will have to send the girls back to Winterfell at once, but also without rising suspects, since sending Sansa away while be very difficult.

Winterfell…

Jon was standing on a hill with Edd and Grenn, looking at Winterfell. Last time he was here, things did not end well. Tensions were at its highest, and Robb was kind of an enemy to him more than a brother. Now? Now he hopped that the grudge he was holding because of Dany was gone, and he was back to be the brother that he knew for all his life till now.

Once he passed the gates, and reached the courtyard, Jon saw Brandon sit on the horse, while the stableman was taking care of him, unlatching his laces, and so he immediately jumped down from Winterstorm, running to him.

“Bran! You go riding?”

“Hello Jon,” smiled the little boy, as Hodor took him down. “I do. A gift from Lord Tyrion, and Joseth is helping me with the train of Dancer, so that she is to listen only to my commands.”

“Good boy. I’m so happy for you,” Jon said, never cessing to smile, however, he noticed his little brother glance at Grenn and Edd, and so he said. “Naerys is not here if that’s what you were wondering, little brother.  She wanted to come but it was not possible." And Bran looked down in sadness, "Hey. Don't sad, Bran. She will come to see you one day, I promise. Or maybe you can go to see her. You still have to see Magthol after all, don't you?" And his little brother nodded, smiling. Strengthening up, Jon said, “Now I need to find Robb, and discuss important mater.

“He is holding court in the Great Hall.”

Jon smiled, rubbing his hairs. “We will talk later, alright?” And Bran nodded as Jon left, heading towards the keep where in the Great Hall Robb was holding court.

Upon entering, Jon saw the smallfolk pay their monthly taxes to the Lord Of Winterfell, but when he saw him, his brother immediately got up, “Jon!” coming to him, leaving the duties to Maester Luwin. It took him a few moments to react to the hug, but in the end, he hugged him back, and breaking, Robb said. “I’m glad you have come,” and as he glanced behind, the smile disappeared. “I see you are alone.”

“Yes. Things has changed during the past months, Robb,” Jon said, as his brother looked at him confused, as they moved to the table, and his brother field two cups of ale, looking at him with expectation. “A few weeks ago, we married before the old Gods of our forefathers, under a Weirwood Tree Beyond the Wall. I’m sure you understand the reason of why we did it, Robb?”

“You know I would never hurt her, Jon,” his brother said, almost whispering, squeezing the cup of ale, and looking down ashamed. “What I did...it was wrong...and I repent my actions.”

 "That does not change the fact that you behaved horribly with her. You tried to force her into a marriage she never wanted," Jon hissed, lowly and feeling his anger ignite. "You pressured her. It will take time before she trusts you again and considers you a friend. A brother."

“I know," he muttered relaxing in his seat, but still looking down. Taking a sip his brother said, 'I think you heard about my mother going to King's Landing to inform our father and show him the assassin's dagger who came to kill Bran. But we both know who is behind the crime, and how the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is one of them."

"We do," Jon agreed, taking a gulp from his cup and cursing the Golden Lions who dared to do such a thing in their own home. "I saw that Bran started riding. I think this will do him good."

"Yes. But he will never become a warrior.  He has always dreamed of becoming a Kingsguard."

"Not necessarily. He can still become a warrior. D-Naerys once told me that the Dothraki learn to use a bow from horseback as a young age. We can teach Bran to do that. And not only that. Cripples too can become good warriors if they train enough."

Robb laughed. "Or maybe he will become like Brandon the Builder."

And Jon joined in his laughter, sipping his ale before getting serious. "What are your intentions, Robb. I know you have something in mind."

“Nothing, brother. You know I’m not the head of this house,” Robb said, looking away. “If it was up to me, I would have called the banners long time ago and waged war on the Lannisters.”

Jon said nothing. Part of him wanted to do that too and deliver Tywin’s head to Daenerys because of what he did to her family, however, the other half advised caution and Jon leaned more towards the latter than the former no matter how much he would love to destroy the Lannisters, as he did not want to lose people dear to him in this war.

Magthol…

The first few nights after Jon left were very thought. She could not sleep, she barely ate, she was so sad. Alone, in a cold bed. She got so used to having him sleep next to her, to feel his arms holding her close, that now it was difficult to be alone. And not even Ghost was here to comfort her. But then she started to leave the room. Take care of the land, of the castle. Speak with Maester Aemon. And train with the men, though she still not liking Ramsay’s presence at Magthol.

Suddenly, Dany felt a rush of nausea, and immediately jumped down from the bed, running to the night tray and throwing everything inside. She coughed a few times, spitting what was left and feeling the horrible taste in her mouth before she sat down on the floor, and wrapping her arms around the knees started to weep.

Why was happening this to her? Why Jon needed to go to Winterfell and leave her alone? Why was this world so cruel with her taking every last kin of hers and leaving her alone in this world? Dany curled on the cold floor and sobbed before she felt the dragons come to her.

“Promise you will never leave me?” she said, as their engulfed her with their wings almost shielding her from the cruel world.

The moment the doors opened, Dany hear Dorhea call her and immediately rush to her side, “Are you well, your grace?” and she nodded, as the dragons moved away. The girl helped her back to the bed, and brought her some water to drink, before saying, “I will get you ready a bath.”

“Thank you, my friend.” And the girl left as Dany pulled up her knees, hugging them and resting her head back, feeling how the sickness was fading, and after drinking a few more goblets she felt better.

Once she finished bathed, relieved by the hot waters, Dany got ready and went to the great hall to perform her duties as lady of this castle, in Jon's name, of course, and listen to her people.

First, she collected the rents of those who were living in their lands, closing an eye when they begged and then she proceeded to pay the monthly salary to the houseguards. This was supposed to be Jon’s task, but since he wasn’t here, it was up to her to do it. But soon, Dany started to feel very tired and wanted to retire back to her chambers.

However, right when she was about to do it, Dany was stopped by the coming of Master Tom, followed right behind by two more men. One young with black hairs and short bears, while the other of Tom’s age, with greyish hairs, and short beard. They looked alike and Dany figured out it must have been the father of the young one. But in that moment, she noticed that the elder was wounded too.

“Tom. What is it?”

“Forgive me, Lady, but there are urgent matters need to be dealt at once,” Tom said, before beckoning for the man to approach, who did, limping. “This is an old friend of mine. Alyn. A few days ago, they were on the way home, returning from the harbour and got attacked by Ramsay’s men. He was beaten, his son was crippled, and his poor daughter…the poor girl. She was raped by them. She killed herself before the bastard could take his turn with his own dagger. But that did not stop them.”

And as she was hearing that Dany squeezed her fist and felt her blood boil. She warned Jon that he could not be trust. That he could not be controlled. And now here are the results of such a man in their service. Everyone will think that the men of Magthol are like him.

“Tom. Inform the captain to bring Ramsay and his men here. They must answer for what they have done."

The man nodded and left, while Dany, added looking towards Mormont. "Ser Jorah. Go to my chambers and bring me the black one."

Ser Jorah nodded, leaving too, as Dany looked at father and son, before leaning to her old uncle, asking for advice. “What should I do once the men bring him here? Ramsay saved Jon on the road to Magthol. If I kill him, the gods will be angry because we broke an oath.”

"Hard is the burden of leadership. There will always be difficult decisions to make, my child, and people who will question them. But it will be up to you to show them that the decision you made was the right one to make."

She sighed, looking down, feeling her heart pound because of the decision she has to make. When the doors opened,  Dany saw Morghul enter with a confused expression, and Jorah who was holding the chain. The moment her son was before her, Dany freed him. However in that moment, she saw Tom return panting, “He is gone. Ramsay and his men fought your soldiers who wanted to arrest them and bring them to you."

"What?!" she shot to her feet and rushing outside. In the courtyard, Dany could see dead bodies on the ground, and the girl, Myranda in chains. But there was no sight of the bastard of the Dreadfort. When she saw the Capitan on the ground, wounded, she immediately went to his side, “What happened, Harwin?”

“Bolton...(swallow painfully)...tried to escape...(swallow painfully)...We fought his bastards, while he jumped down the walls,” the man replied, chokingly, and while holding his wound, and Dany immediately run to the walls, to see if his head was smashed down the rocks, yet there was no sight of him. Only a rope.

Morghul flew a few times, but he did more for himself than to look after Bolton,  however Dany knew what she needed to do. She needed to send a raven to Winterfell and inform Jon of what happened.

A week later…

Kingswood…

“Oh, what was I saying?”

“A simpler time.”

“It was! It was. You’re too young to remember,” laughed Robert at his brother’s words, before addressing the Lord Commander. “Wasn’t it, Selmy?

“It was, your Grace,” Ser Barristan agreed, although Robert could feel some disappointment in his voice, as he continued. “The enemy was right there in the open, vicious as you like, all but sending you a bloody invitation. Nothing like today.”

“Sounds exhilarating.”

“Exhilarating, yes. Not as exhilarating as those balls and masquerades you like to throw,” laughed Robert, at remembering the times. Everything was so boring and a waste of money. But as long as it was Lannister Gold for him was enough. “You ever fucked a Riverlands girl?”

“Once, I think.”

“You think? I think you’d remember. Back in our day, you weren’t a real man until you fucked a girl from each of the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands. We called it “making the eight”.” What a bloody fool this brother of his was, but at least less keen to treason. No one would fallow a pussy ass like him.

“Those were some lucky girls.”

And Robert laughed, before glancing at the Lord Commander, “You ever make the eight, Barristan?”

“I don’t believe so, your Grace.”

“Aha! Those were the days!

“What days were those?” asked his brother, almost as if he was irritated, stopping abruptly. “The ones where half of Westeros fought the other half and millions died?” and Robert looked at him confused for a moment, before starting to get serious. “Or before that, when the Mad King slaughtered women and babies because the voices in his head told him they deserved it? Or way before that when dragons burned whole cities to the ground?”

“Easy, boy. You might be my brother, but you’re speaking to the King,” roared Robert, warning him.

“I suppose it was all rather heroic. If you were drunk enough and had some poor Riverlands whore to shove your price inside and “make the eight”,” finished his brother, before walking away, like a bull in furry, while Robert heard that damn of the golden shit who was his squire, ask, “More wine, your Grace?”

Robert snapped it from his hands, and drank all the content in a breath, before throwing it away, and start his march in the search of a damn prey. Boar, deer, even the damn gods if he stumbled upon them. Anything that can be killed. Because he needed to kill something and feel their hot blood on his hands. To release the storm that was waging inside him.

It did not take him long to find a prey, and what a prey it was. A big fucking boar, spitted from the very depths of the seven hells.

Robert laughed to himself, "Stand back, Selmy. This one is mine," and ready to face him, but the crack of a fisted dry twig startled the beast, who immediately looked towards them, and gruntingly charged at them.

He took a defensive stance, a aiming his spear, but feeling how his body was getting tired, and his mind clouded. Damn it! Too much wine.

At that same instant, a spear flew only a few inches from his head, enough for Robert to feel his ears whistle, and it hit the beast, knocking it down.

Robert turned, enraged at the one who had dared to deprive him of victory over the beast, and saw a man of average height, with dark skin and foreign clothes. He had a serious expression on his face and seem to be quiet though. A warrior.

Selmy immediately pulled out his sword, pointing it at the man, "Stand back and introduce yourself!"

“He does not speak the common tongue,” a woman said, stepping from behind a tree, and coming to the man’s side. “But he understands our words.”

“Who are you, woman, and why your man killed my prey?”

“He did it to earn your trust, King Robert,” the woman said, pulling down the hood, and revealing her long man of dark curls and a pretty face with haunting violet eyes. She was very pretty. Maybe the Gods are smiling upon him, and she is her as a reward for depriving him of the boar. It seemed like ages since he last riwm took a girl outdoors.  Now a pretty one was standing before him and his cock stired at the thought.

However, hearing Selmy gasp a name he only heard a few times back when he was young, Robert wanted to enquire her more, but she was the one who introduced herself. “I’m Ashara Dayne, and this man is Sádaba. The Summer Isles were once his home, but now he serves the House of Undying. And on the warlock behalf is why we are here.”

Ashara Dayne? That was the name of Ned’s girl from his youth. Harrhenal. She must be the bastard’s mother. Indeed, she looked a lot like the boy from what he recalled. But clearing his head of those thoughts, he shouts, “What the hell are you babbling about woman? I don't give a damn about your warlocks. I just want to thrust my spear in a prey and call of the day."

“If you do not move out of my way then you will be the target of my wrath,” Robert roared, starting to walk past them, but the man stopped him, grabbing his arms and Selmy immediately brought his blade to the man’s throat.

“Let the king go.”

The man on the other hand, with furrowed eyebrows said something in a foreign tongue, and the woman approaching them, said, looking down as if she did not want to voice them. “Sádaba, say you have a traitor in your ranks. A traitor that you trust and who is harbouring your worst enemy.”

Robert was confused, freeing himself. “The speak you up, damn you!”

She was hesitating for a moment, but when the man added something else, with a raised voice, stradling the woman, Ashara Dayne said, “Eddard Stark.”

Chapter Text

King's Landing...

Robert still could not believe what he heard. How? How was it possible that his best friend, the one that he loves like a brother and even more than his own blood brothers, betrayed him? How! The storm inside him was raging and ready to burst out. Before cutting off his head Robert wanted to hear it from his rotten mouth.

The moment he was back to the Red Keep, Robert went in search of the Hand of the King, hearing that he was holding court. With all this fuss, between that little shit of Renly disrespecting him and those foreign bastards who filled his head with doubts, Robert forgot about the fact that that bitch of Catelyn Stark took the Lannister’s dwarf prisoner, starting a war.

Once he reached the Great Hall with the Throne, Robert stepped in, raring like a lion, “OUT!” and those who were inside looked at him, confused, “I. SAID. OUT!” he roared again, even louder than before, panting, and everyone rushed out, while mumbling.

Looking at the Iron throne, Robert saw Ned limping down the Iron Throne because of the wound Jaime Lannister, and Robert, squeezing his fist, immediately strode towards him.

“Robert. What's going on?

"How could you do it, traitor?!"

"Traitor?" chuckled Ned. "I don't understand."

"You don't understand?!" roared Robert. "Are you not hiding a fucking Targaryen in your den?!" He was shaking in rage, and panting. Barely restraining himself from beating the shit out of him in that moment.

"Targaryen? Have you lost your wits? I told you, the Targaryens are dead," replied the fucker, betraying no emotion.

"Dead?! That's not what the rumours say, damn you!" shouted Robert, grabbing him by the lapel with both hands and looking him in the eyes. "Tell me you're not hiding Targaryen! That you haven't betrayed me, you filthy bastard!"

"The Targaryen are dead. And I have always been loyal to you," Ned growled back, pushing him away, and raising his voice, he added, "I followed you into war! Twice. I helped you destroy that cursed House! I turned a blind eye when you forgave the Lannisters for the innocent blood they spilled! Now you doubt my loyalty?!"

With those words, his old friend left, while Robert didn’t know what to think, or to whom listen. Ned, a friend he knew all his life or that woman with her foreign friend who were so generous with information about him.

“Your grace? What do we do? Shall I go and arrest Lord Stark?” asked Barristan, stepping closer.

“Yes. Lock Stark in chambers, without anything that might make him reach for help. Then lock his daughters in their rooms and put trusted men to guard them. Send Slynt to arrest his men on a charge of being involved in the treason from their lord,” he said, while still panting, but feeling the rage starting to fade. “Tell Trant that I have a task for him and Send for Varys.”

“At once.”

As he was standing there, Robert thought of this drastic decision he was making and how he will be forced to destroy her House. Lyanna’s House. “All because of those damn Targaryen and their bloody throne!” roared Robert to the cursed chair.

Winterfell…

My beloved Jon,

 

Things are very difficult here since you left. I don't sleep, I barely eat, and as a result I am always tired. I miss your kisses, your caresses, feeling safe in your arms when I sleep. I miss you, Jon.

But that is not the only reason why I write to you. I do it to warn you. Ramsey Snow has betrayed us. He and his men attacked people who live under our protection, raped a poor girl, who took her own life before they could further take advantage of her. When I sent men to arrest him, Ramsay fought back and fled. I hope I have not disappointed you with my actions.

I miss you, Jon, and I look forward to hugging you again very soon. Be safe.

 

Yours, Daenerys.

Jon squeezed his fist, feeling the anger arise upon hearing those news. Damn Bolton! He should not have accepted him into his service. Thus, he put his people, and especially Dany, in danger. He needed to leave at once. So, finishing his cup of ale, Jon cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand and headed towards his rooms.

However, on his way, he stumbled upon the Maester. “Oh, Jon. I was looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, Maester Luwin. But I don’t have time. Can you inform Robb that I’m heading back to Magthol?”

“Actually, I’m here on his behalf, Jon,” the old Maester said, and Jon sighed, stopping and turning. “Your brother wants to see you in the Godswood. Terrible news has arrived.”

Jon nodded, following the old man to the Godswood, where, when he got, Jon saw Robb and Theon standing before the heart tree, while his brother was holding something in his hands. A scroll judging by the sight.

“Brother. You wanted to see me?” asked Jon, while Robb only gave him the scroll, and so he quickly read it, feeling how his heart started pounding in his chest at reading ‘Naerys is in danger.’ “I need to go back to my castle.”

“Later. We have to discuss what to do, Jon. My mother has taken Tyrion Lannister into custody, and soon Tywin will march on the Riverlands. A war is coming. You are needed here, Jon. I need you."

"No, brother. It's Daenerys who needs me."

"Who?" asked Theon, and Jon cursed his tongue, which always speaks before the mind.

"Like I said. I must return to my castle," Jon replied, but still before he left, he said, "Before you take such a decision and call the Banners, you need to see what our father will do in the south. But if I may ask, why did she take the imp?"

"Because he was the one who sent an assassin to kill Bran," replied Maester Luwin, and Jon felt confused by his words. “Lord Stark sent a raven to us to inform about this new turn of events.”

“Why would a man who was kind to Bran send an assassin to kill him?"

"Because of what he saw in the tower. The queen with her twin. They-"

"I doubt it, brother. When the assassin was sent here, Lord Tyrion was at the Wall with us," Jon replied, not believing that a man like the imp would commit such an act, after having so many times voiced his hatred towards his sister, the Queen. " Anyway, do what you think is right. But know that if your mother kills him, she will kill a man guiltless of such an act."

"Where are you going? Did you not hear, what I said? War is coming," Robb said, as Jon was leaving. "We must get ready. Jon!"

"As I said, brother. Await word from our father. If war is his choice, then I will be the first to join the vanguard and fight for the direwolf of Winterfll."

And with those words he left. First the Bolton's bastard and now the Sorcerers. Their enemies' ranks swell while theirs diminish. He needed to hire more men, and Jon knew whom to ask for help.

Magthol…

Dany was laying on her bed, waiting for the healer from Essos, Varidos Maegirah to give his verdict on the matter, "So, Varidos? Am I pregnant?"

“Yes, my lady. Almost two moons I would say.”

“So that’s why I’m always so tired and sick in the morning,” Dany said, more to herself than to the healer, sighing and resting her palms on the belly, as a smile cracked on her lips. She wished Jon was her for this precious moment, and she wanted it to share with him so much. “Do you have anything for the morning sickness?”

“Not much. Some herbs. But I doubt they would help you much,” Varidos said.

“Thank you, Varidos”

“My lady,” he bowed, leaving, as she lay there, with closed eyes and trying to imagine what he will look like. Will he have his father’s eyes and curls, or her straight silver mane? Will he be a wolf or a dragon? Or both? A boy or a girl? She always dreamed of having a girl of her own, whose hair she would comb, and braid, with whom Dany could play, however, she knew that a son is what was needed first. And that was the desire of every man. A firstborn male.

“How does it feel?” Dany heard Dorhea ask, as she was taking care of her clothes. “To have life inside yourself?”

Difficult to answer. Of course, I don't feel anything yet, but the thought of carrying him...I don't know how to explain. However, something else has awakened in me with this new knowledge. And instinct of protection of this new life."

"Jon will be happy when he finds out."

"I know," she replied, but will he really be? Or will he think it's too early for a child with the war on their doorstep? Doubts and fears arose in that moment, and Dany became frightened of his reaction, turning on her side and curling into a ball.

"Are you all right, princess?"

"I want to be alone, Dorhea," Dany said, and she heard the girl leave, as a thousand thoughts flitted through her head.

Night had fallen on them, and the cold had risen. Dany was roaming through the hallways lit by torches, wearing nothing but a long white nightgown, and barefoot.

Suddenly, her feet led her to a great hall that she has never seen before, filled with red columns, and floors of the same colour, with a huge chair in the far back. It was the Iron Throne. Or at least it was as she had always imagined it.

Dany started to approach, seeing someone sitting on it. A young man from what she could see. He was about her age with blue hair, and golden armour from what she could see. Dany didn't know who he was since she didn't know the usurper, but he wasn't a Targaryen either, since his hairs were of a different colour. Tyroshi traditions.

But the closer she got to the throne, the more Dany could see blood coming in her direction. She proceeded to walk on it with sloppy feet, stained with the red blood that gave the same colour to the white of her night skirt.

Stopping, Dany looked up at the young man, who was resting his hand on the hilt of the sword, while with the other, he was holding a circle with rubies. A crown. But right when she rose her eyes a bit higher, Dany saw a head atop the Iron Throne, stuck on the sword. It was Jon’s head.

A scream escaped her, as Dany fell to the wet floor, and tears streamed down. More heads appeared of people she knew, and of some she didn’t. One of whom that was next to Jon was resembling the head of a child. A child with silver-golden curly hairs.

She woke up screaming and gasping, not understanding what was happening, as she got down from the bed, taking deep breaths, while squeezing the bed, and looking down to make sure that there wasn’t blood on the floor.

Feeling her throat dry, Dany got up, and headed towards the table to pour some water into a coup. After taking a few sips, she leaned against the table, sighing, and thinking back on the dream she has made. Who was that man and why was he sitting on the Iron Throne, if that truly was the Iron throne? Whoever he was that man was an enemy because he killed her Jon.

Her thoughts then turned to the child that was there. Was he the child she was carrying? Dany swore in that moment that whoever will try to hurt her little family will face the words of her old House. Fire and Blood. And by all gods, she will serve them that.

King’s Landing…

He had been locked in this room for days, without seeing any know face beside the Kingsguard that was standing outside the door with Lannister guards. He didn’t even know where his daughters were since Ser Barristan refused to tell him. He only reassured him that no harm will be made to them.

Suddenly, as he was looking outside, Ned heard the door open and glancing behind saw Cersei Lannister enter with a grin on her lips. She was surely delighted by his fate, and that it was only a matter of time before Robert cut off his head, though Ned doubted his old friend would do such a thing. "Your Grace."

"Lord Stark. How does it feel to fall from the King's grace?"

"Are you here for a reason, my lady, or only to inform me of the king's displeasure?"

But she only smiled, sitting on the chair. "What do you now intend to do with your precious knowledge, Lord Stark? The king will no longer listen to you now, and you may even lose your head in the morrow."

"Do you really think I care about my life, my lady? I have lived all my life with soldiers. I have long learned how to die." And the smile disappeared from her face as he was gazing into her emerald eyes, before adding, "But that does not mean that I cannot tell him the truth before my death and unleash his wrath upon your house."

"Would the honourable Eddard Stark really risk staining his hands with the blood of children?"

"As your father did with the Targaryen babes."

“Why do you care so much about them, Lord Stark? They brought nothing but pain to your family. The Mad King killed your father and brother. Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped and raped our sister.”

Ned did not reply, to her question, instead he dismissed the queen, “Have a good day, your grace.”

“For putting my family in danger, Lord Stark, you will die in this place that you root so much,”  Cersei Lannister said, leaving the room. Ned knew this very well. He only hoped that he will find a way to send his daughters away from her and back to Winterfell.

Another sunset had passed, and thus another day of him being locked in this tower with no knowledge of his daughters' fate. With Robert he had not had a chance to speak since the heated meeting in the Great Hall, and therefore he was unaware of whatever the King was plotting against the North. And as long as he was locked in here, the North could do nothing against him. All this, because he was harbouring a Targaryen. And only one person was to blame for all this. Ashara.

He still could not believe that the woman he had loved in his youth had the heart to do such a thing against him. After what they had had in that short time. Ned understood her reasons. The desire for freedom, and to reunite with their daughter.

Suddenly his brooding was interrupted by the door opening, and Ned saw the Spider enter.  “Lord Stark.”

“Lord Varys. What brings you here??”

“I came to pay a visit,” the Master of Whisper said, sitting down on the chair. “After your arrest, if we can say so, the king commanded me to send my little birds to the north and find the dragon hidden in the snow."

"And you found him."

"I did. The girl lacks discretion it seems. Not a great surprise since that's the flaw of every Targaryen."

"And you told Robert where she is."

"I did. And the king sent Meryn Trant and two thousand men to your bastard son's castle. But if I can be honest with you, Lord Stark, I was already aware of your little secret."

"And why did you not inform the king about it earlier?"

"Should I have?"

"Why do you do all this, Varys? Tell me. No riddles, no stories. Tell me, what do you want?"

"Peace and the good of the realm, Lord Stark. Someone has to want it,” the spider replied, leaning forward. “Both of us know that soon the king will die actions, and Joffrey will ascend the throne. It was meant to be that day, but this turn of events has changed the queen's plans. War will break out and the rightful heir will come to claim the Iron Throne."

"You speak of rightful heir, yet you are ready to back a false king. You know that once Robert will be dead Stannis will push his claim forward because Stannis is the rightful heir."

“You think Stannis is the rightful heir?” asked the spider, and Ned felt confused for a moment until realization hit him.

“You want to put the girl on the Iron Throne, don’t you? That’s why you did not tell Robert before. You hoped that I would have backed her once Robert was dead. Maybe marry her to my heir and use the Northern army with the bond to Riverlands and Vale, to fully your plans.”

“Admirable, Lord Stark. You have uncovered a man's plan that he has been scheming for years. You deserve the Iron Throne if only such allusions were true."

"So, she's not the one you want to use for your purpose?"

"I'm afraid she is not."

"Who then?"

"Patience, my good lord, is something the powerful men lack because they think their position will allow them to overcome any obstacle." With those words the Spider left, leaving a puzzled and speechless Ned behind him. Now another unknown enemy could be added to his list. Because if he is an enemy of the crown, he was an enemy from the past. And that mean an enemy who will hold grudge against him too.

The hour of the ghosts was upon them when they finally reached Magthol. The castle seemed to be already sleeping, but the guards were on the watch.

"Who goes there?"

"Jon Snow, your liege," he announced himself, and the gates opened as he hit the horse with his heels to urge her inside. In his way came Pyp, the captain of the House guard, Alyn, but he noticed that Master Tom was not there.

"Welcome back, Jon," greeted him Harwin, when he got down from the horse. "Grenn. Edd."

"Harwin." they greeted him, and Jon patting his shoulder handed Winterstorm to him, before heading towards the doors, with the Capitan behind him. as the guards opened it. Torches were lit on the walls, as the captain was putting him aware of what happened in the past weeks since he had left them. When they reached the great hall, Jon took of his cape, and sword, and filling a cup of ale, said, "War will be soon upon us, Alyn. I want you to start training the peasants who will come here in the next few days."

"As you command. But if I may ask, my lord, who is the enemy?"

"I don't know," Jon sighed, sitting down on the table, and taking a sip, looking lost, he added. "Sellswords. King's men. Warlocks. Too many to count I would say. And we lack the manpower."

“Have you already something in mind?”

“I do,” replied Jon, looking at him, and taking a sip. “I want to hire two sellsword companies.” Finishing the goblet, Jon got up, asking “Do you know if Asher is back?”

“Not yet.” And Jon nodded, dismissing the man, who after a bow left. He needed a bath after this long journey, but before that, he had to do something else. So, taking his sword and headed for his rooms. Dany was undoubtedly deep asleep by now and he did not want for her to wake up, but Jon needed to see her. He missed her so much the past weeks.

At the door, Jon saw Ghost already waiting for him, impatiently. He too missed her. When he opened the door, Jon saw the dragons wake, and immediately he shushed them in vain, while in bed, he saw Dany still deep asleep. She was curled in a ball, and the furs over her.

He hoped to find her sleeping peacefully, but it seems she wasn’t. A worried expression with furrowed eyebrows she had, and Jon wanted to ease her worries. Ease her dreams. Approaching her, Jon brushed a few locks from her face and kissed her cheek, making her immediately jolt and wake up with a scream. "No!"

She was panting and shaking, and so Jon immediately wrapped his arm around her. “Dany. Everything is all right. Everything is all right. I'm here."

Dany started crying for some strange reason, clutching to his clothes as if she was fearing to lose him, and Jon tried to calm her with his sweet kisses and the security of his arms. He lay with her then, still holding his wife in his arms.

They laid like that for a few moment, as Dany was starting to calm down, and sniffing Jon heard his wife say in a raspy voice, “blood was on the floor, stream towards me. A man with long blue hairs sitting upon a huge throne grasping a black crown and you…you were dead.”

She started crying again, shaking in his arms and Jon reassured her, “Shhh…I’m alive, Dany, and have no intention to die. Not until I’m old and still in your arms with our children and grandchildren’s laughs and giggles around us and the dragons flying in the sky.”

His wife looked up at him with tearful beautiful eyes, and he smiled, cleaning them with his thumb, and her visage cheered up, as a smile appeared. “You are back.”

“I am, my love, but sadly not with good news,” Jon said, looking down, and Dany immediately rose up.

“Please. Tell me.”

“Warlocks from Qarth are in your search, and I fear that soon Robert Baratheon will learn about your presence here and send his army or come himself.”

Dany did not reply, sitting with crossed legs, and looking down with sadness. So, Jon immediately moved closer to her, and rising her chin, said, looking in her eyes, “As long as I breathe and my heart beats, I will let no one hurt you, Dany."

A few tears dropped down, and Jon immediately cleaned them, before pulling Dany for a kiss. She moaned his name, as their tongues battled, and he felt Dany slowly push him on his back and climb over him. Breaking while breathing heavily, Jon breathed, “I need a bath. Long journey.”

“Want me to join?” she whispered, with a grin on her lips, and nuzzling her nose with his, earning a chucle from him, before Jon pushed her down, playfully, and after kissing her one last time, headed in search of a servant to ask for warm water to be filled in his bath.

It took them half an hour to heat it and fill the bathtub, and once he was alone in that room, Jon took of his clothes and sink inside the tub, releasing a pleasant sigh at feeling the hot water ease his sour body. He then deepened his head too, wetting the curly hairs, before pushing them behind, and hearing Dany ask, “Do you like it?”

“Aye. But it's a bit lonely in here,” he replied, looking at his beautiful wife, who once before him, took off her night gown, letting it slip down her slender forms, before getting inside. One foot at a time and giving him a chance to linger his sight over her perfect shapes, but that was showing some changes. Her breasts looked bigger, and her belly seems swollen. Or maybe it was his eyes that were deceiving him, because he had let too much time pass since he last saw her.

Once in, Dany sat down on the other end of the tub, and Jon pulled up her leg kissing the heel, before moving higher but she stopped him, moving closer, and straddling him inside, sat above him.

She reached down between them to grasp his cock and stroke its length under the water, making Jon gran, while against his ears, Dany whispered, “I missed you, my wolf.” Then she moved to the other one while never letting his cock go. “Your lips on my skin.” And a kiss came to him. “Your hands roaming my body.” Her lips moved to his neck, sucking on his pulse, and then returning her attention to his mouth, Dany whispered, biting his lips. “And I missed having your cock deep inside me.”

Jon felt his member jolt in her hand, as his wife’s lips curled in a grin and she, bringing his shaft to her entrance, and sink on him with one swift move. A moan of pleasure escaped both of them when she did so, and Jon pulled her to him. He almost comes then from the warm, soft pressure of her around him, and the hotness of the water, and the cooper of the tub against his back, and the fire in her amethyst eyes as she holds his gaze. She moves her hands from his shoulders to his neck, to his jaw, scratching him with her nails as she begins to rock her hips him moaning between her teeth.

Pace by pace, Dany started to increase her rhythm, riding him as if he was her stud, and Jon took hold of her hips. The water in the tub splashed out, her breasts bouncing in front of his face, and her eyes still looking into his.

He begins to buck his hips into her, matching her pace and using his hands on her waist to help keep them in sync. The pleasure was building, and his coming was near. But so was hers. He could feel it by how her walls were glancing around him, and by how her nails were digging into his skin.

Soon, a sharp, hushed cry that seems to tear itself from her throat, escaped Dany, as she gasped his name. “Jon-“

“Come for me Dany,” he says, panting. And a loud growl escaped him, as they come together, breathing heavily and clinging to each other in the hot water. He held her in his arms, When he catches his breath, Astrid’s face is pressed against his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He rubs one hand along her back, and she makes a sound of deep contentment, nuzzling into his neck as she brings her hands to rest on his chest.

He holds her like that for a while, until, slowly, Dany pulled away, and said, with her lips curled in a smile, “There is something I need to tell you Jon.”

And he immediately become serious, feeling his heart start to race in his chest.

“In the days after your departure, I was very sick. Nausea every morning, throwing up everything I had eaten the evening before. And during the day, always tired. I thought I had caught some fever, but instead. Instead...." she stopped as if afraid to confess her worries.

So, Jon lifted her chin, to look into her eyes. "Instead?"

Dany, barely holding back a smile, took his hand and brought it to her belly, saying, "I am carrying your child."

And in that instant, he felt his heart stop for a moment, thinking he had heard wrong, and he could Dany stammering incoherent words. So, he immediately stopped her with his lips, feeling her calm down, as he squeezed her to his chest. A Child. His child. Their child.

They kissed for a few moments, before Jon, breaking, said, "All my life I thought my path would lead me to the Night's Watch. No land, no offspring, no wife. Then you came, blessing my life with your light, your love, peaking with the moment you married me. The happiest day of my life." He stopped to kiss her and push some locks behind her ear. "I never thought that so soon another day would replace it." Pausing to take in even more breath, and laying her hand on her belly, she added. "Tonight, you made me an even more happy man than I already was."

"You really aren't angry?"

"Why should I be? You gave me something that I dreamed of but never hoped to have," he smiled, getting up, earning a yelp from Dany, as she grasped on him, and slowly carrying her to the other room, easing her onto the bed slowly. With hand on her belly, caressing it, he said. "Our baby will be so lucky to have a mother like you, so brave and so beautiful."

Dany giggled, in return, "Qualities that wouldn't be there without such a handsome and loving husband."

“Qualities that had always been,” he smiled back, “Now let this husband of yours reward you in his own way for this gift.” And slowly, Jon started to move downwards, ready to show her the same love as she had shown him.

Bay of Ice...

“Father. Wake up father,” Tom felt himself being shaken and called by his son, and he immediately jumped awake, breathing heavily and confused. “Ships are approaching, father.”

Without wasting time, Tom pushed away the furs and grabbing small axe and hammer, rushed out of the hut. Outside, the weather was so cool that was making his eyes freeze, and the hour of the was upon them. At the harbour, he could see the soldiers gathered with weapon in hands, and once he reached the man in charge with the protection of the place, Tom asked, “Who are they?”

“Don’t know. But they are too many to be merchants.”

“I sent a raven to Magthol."

"Of course. But we better retreat. Those ships will have at least a thousand men on board. We are not enough."

"Send a raven to Bear Island then. Ask for help. We can cold them a bit behind those walls."

"Already done. They'll never get there in time."

"The harbour must be protected, Captain. Should the enemy take it, they will surely destroy it. That means wasted time and resources."

"Tell me, Master Tom. Which do you value more: your heritage or your life?"

“Of course, my life,” Tom retorted, even offended by such allusion. "So what do we do, Captain? Retreat or fight?"

"Get the horses ready. We fight and then we flee, or hold till someone come in our help," the Capitan said, as the ships stopped, and Tom could see boats being lowered and men start to get in.

Chapter Text

They were laying in bed under the furs, with Dany resting on his chest, and lazily tracing the shapes of his now-sweaty chest with her finger. The dawn lights were crackling through the cracks in the window shades, but they did not have much of a sleep anyway. The heat of their lovemaking was too high that night and they ended up fucking till dawn, locking their friends in the other room of course.

But now he was completely tired. Being ridden by the mother of dragons, or even trying to keep up with her…pace was indeed a daunting task.

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

"What?"

"For the child."

"Oh! Well, not really. As you can deduce my mind was too busy admiring a goddess," he replied, lifting her face, and Dany giggled as he leaned in to kiss her. Then turning her around, he pushed a few locks behind her ear, and looking into her eyes, holding her chin, he said, "Whatever name you choose, I will love it."

"Jon!" she giggled, pushing him playfully and her laughter was honey to his ears. Pushing a few strands out of the way, Dany said, "I'm serious, Jon. I want us both to decide. That we both like."

He sighed and gave her one last kiss, before lying down on the bed, and with his hand under the nape of his neck, said, 'If it is a son, I have always loved the name Daeron. I know. It is not a Northern name, but King Daeron was an idol of mine. His Conquest of Dorne always fascinated me, so yes. If we have a son, I think Daeron is a fitting name for him."

"Daeron Snow," Dany tasted the name, though Jon, looking up at her, corrected her, "No. Not Snow. Daeron Targaryen. That will be his name."

"But-"

"My son will have a name to be proud of, not one for which everyone will laugh at him," Jon replied, turning on the side.  So that he can look at his wife. "History does not remember blood, Dany. It remembers names."

"Even the Targaryen name has become a shameful one now," she murmured, saddened, and Jon laid his hand on her cheek caressing her to comfort his wife. Kissing his hand, and smiling, Dany snuggled closer to him, saying, "So, Daeron for a boy. What if a girl is born?"

“Rhaella,” he said, and she immediately lifted up, looking at him with tearful eyes.

“I love you, Jon Snow,” she said, kissing him, and Jon returned, hugging her naked body to him, but feeling her slowly climb over him. That made his cock start to harden again and ready to enter inside her.

Breaking the kiss, Dany rose up, holding herself on her arm, and Jon, pushing her locks behind, asked, “Now it is your turn to tell me how you would like to name him, my love."

Dany bit her lower lips, looking down. "Well…Rhaegar was the name I always wanted to give to a child of mine. To honor my brave brother."

"Then Rhaegar shall be his name," Jon replied, rising up and kissing her. Dany giggled,  biting his lower lip as his thumbs caressed her belly, and moving her hand downwards took hold of his cock, stroking him slowly, and making Jon breathe. “Gods. You are an insatiable Woman.”

“Only when it's come to your big cock,” she smirked, impaling herself on his hard manhood however before they could even enjoy this moment, they got interrupted by insistent knocks at the door.

"Jon! Jon! Come quickly." It was Grenn, and groaning Jon pushed Dany down from him, much to her displeasure, as he stood up. Wrapping something around his middle to cover his still hard cock. Opening the door, Jon saw him gasping, and say swallowing in the mean. "Ships are approaching the harbour shores. Too many for them to be merchantmen."

 "What? Who?" asked Jon shocked, but not too much.

"I don't know. But the Captain of the harbour has sent a raven to Bear Island requesting reinforcements," Grenn replied, and Jon nodded, feeling his heart pounding.

“Ready the men and have everyone who can wield a weapon armed be ready too. Send ravens to Deppwood Moat, Winterfell, and Shadow Tower. Require them to be fast."

“They will never get here in time.”

“I know.  But you do it anyway,”

Grenn nodded, hurrying away, and Jon, closing the door, said, turning towards Dany, "it seems I have a war to fight." And without much delay, he started to dress.  "I want you to take the dragons and Ghost and go down into the cave with those who will not be able to fight. You will be safe there until it is all over. If we lose, lead them out through a passage following the direwolf." And Jon moved to take the key of the so-called hidden passage.  "Here."

"I have no intention of hiding. I will fight by your side."

"Can you do what I ask for once, dammit!" Shout Jon, angrily, and panting, gritting his teeth. He was enraged by her stubbornness, but seeing Dany's frightened expression, he quickly calmed down, moving closer, and pulling her into a hug, Jon said, calmly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell...It's just...the thought of something happening to you, or the child…of you being in danger...it drives me crazy."

"I just want to be helpful, Jon," she replies, sighing and resting her head on his chest.

"You will be. When our little one is born, he will need the protection of both his parents."

He felt her nod, and breaking the embrace, Jon lifted her chin kissing her one last time, before moving away to put on his armour.

"Let me help you," said Dany, helping him put on the chain mail, and the brigantine over it. Once ready, Jon looked for Longclaw, not seeing it in the scabbard, only to see it in Dany's hands, who, after kissing the blade said, putting it in its sheath. "Return to me."

"I will. Always." And he lowered himself down. With hands on her hips and thumbs caressing the belly, Jon said to the baby inside, "I promise that no one will hurt you or your mum." After kissing the belly, Jon rose up and kissed Dany for the last time before leaving their rooms. In the hallways, servants were running back and forth, and once outside, Jon saw archers on the walls, while the men below, were getting ready for the siege.

"Grenn! What do you see?" asked Jon as he approached the walls.

"Nothing. There is no sign of anyone!" The boy shout back. “Edd went out with two men,” Grenn continued as he reached the top. The sky was greyish and that meant that a storm was approaching them.  Not very common in the north, but on the coastal areas. They happen.  “What do we do Jon? Ride out and try to ambush or stay here and face the siege.”

“Both I would say, but the siege should be our last option. The defenses must hold.”

“They will hold,” Grenn said, patting his shoulder. “I will gather the best archers.” However, before he could do it the sound of the horn stopped him. “Riders, Jon.”

“I can see,” Jon said, giving him a look, and heading down. “Open the gates!”

Those who rode inside, Jon recognized them. They were men from the harbour and the moment Tom was down, he immediately run towards him demanding answers. “What happened? Who attacked you.”

“The king’s men,” he replied, gritting his teeth, as he leaned against the wall. “There were men with antler helmets and holding banners of the Crowned stag while others were holding the golden lion.”

Damn them! Cursed Jon under his breath, as he moved away. “Take the wounded to the healer.”

“Jon! They are coming!” he heard Grenn shout, and so he run back to the walls. Once on the top, Jon could spot riders under a white banner, with one of them wearing a golden armour. “It seems they have a deal to propose.”

“No deal that they are going to propose I will accept.”

The horses stopped at a fair distance as Jon halted the archers who were nocking the arrows. The one who was in the golden armour, took a step closer and taking off his helmet, the man revealed himself.  Short dark hair, a short beard, and also a vile expression. Certainly not like the honourable knights of the Vale he has seen recently.

“To the bastard Jon Snow. The king is aware that you are harboring a Targaryen under your roof. As his subject, he commands you to deliver her into my care so that she may be brought to King's Landing and locked in the black cells.

Jon burst out laughing to hide the fury within. "And why should I do that?"

"If you don't do it, bastard, I'll burn your castle to the ground."

"And who are you to have such a power?"

"Ser Meryn Trant, Kingsguard-"

"Of a man who is not my king. Return to him with your tail between your legs, Ser, or prepare to find yourself dead before these walls." And grabbing a bow from one of his men he shot an arrow towards the Kingsguard, managing only to wound him on the cheek as he flicked in the last moment.

“You will pay for this, bastard!” shouted the man, turning the horse and riding away, while Jon said to Grenn, “Get ready for the siege.”

It did not take them long to start the attack, throwing stones at his castle using what looked to be catapultes Usually, in Westeros, trebuchets were used during the siege but to his knowledge, it needed a lot of time to build them.

Looking in the courtyard, Jon saw Tom appear, “You should not be here,” as a stone hit the keep in plain, making the man immediately fall to the ground, and gasp for air. Jon run to his side. “You are still wounded and I will need my master of the buildings to rebuild the castle once the battle is won.”

“I want to kill those bastards who killed my son,” the man said, coughing, as he helped him up and to the cover.

“You have lived in many castles in your lifetime. How long do you think we can hold?”

“A lot. Your walls are thick. Your gates are strong. A few weeks I suppose,” Tom said, as he took breaths.

King’s Landing...

He was starting to lose his mind locked in this room. Not because of that bit because of the fact that he had no new news about his daughter. Last time he heard of Sansa was from the Queen when she came to pay another visit and inform him of recent events.  The betrothal of her bastards to great lords of the crown and of Sansa’s betrothal to a close Lannister relative. 

His belly turned at the thought of such union because his daughter deserved better than someone from that cursed house Of unhonourable people.

Arya, on the other hand, Ned was sure that she wasn’t in their hands. The little one was too smart for them. Ned was sure she was hiding somewhere where no one will find her. Maybe even with the help of the Braavosi swordsman.

Sighing ned, buried his face in his hands wanting to scream, to roar, to howl like a wolf in a cage, but he knew he cannot do that. He cannot let his enemies see him this way. This weak.

Suddenly the door opened, and Ned saw Cersei Lannister enter with a smug on her lips and a servant right behind her, carrying the daily meal. Wasted considering he had no intention of eating from the hand of a snake like the queen.

"I see you tried, my lord."

"Your grace," he greeted her. "Are you here for some reason?"

“Yes. I am here to see if the length of your pride has diminished or if you still live in the false denial of hypocrisy."

"And you? Seeing you here, I assume the king is still unaware of your children's parentage."

"My children are of a blood nobler than yours or the bastard who now harbours the Targaryen whore." Approaching him, the queen asked, crossing her arms. "Tell me, Lord Stark was it good to fuck the peasant whore while your lawful wife was waiting for your trueborn son to be born in Riverrun."

"You know nothing of me or my life," Ned chuckled, tensing at those words, before getting up and heading for the window, but he heard the woman follow him, saying, "I know enough. You are a man just like everyone else who hides his sins behind the so-called honour."

"You know nothing about honour. The father of your bastards is an oathbreaker. Your father is a traitor, and you... I know your reputation, my lady."

"Then you know my determination and how far I would go to protect those I hold to heart."

"So the king is dead?" asked Ned instead, glancing towards her.

“Not yet. But soon he will, and my son will be King. Your house instead will be wiped from the face of this world.”

“The day of recognition is coming. We will see whose house will be wiped from this world before the coming of the Long Night,” said Ned, approaching her, and leaning, whispered, “Sleep well your grace.”

The queen sulked, storming away, and Ned sighed. He wasn’t suited for this nest of snakes and play the Game.

Ashara was sitting inside her room, alone. Sádaba left with the Kingsguard, and the king’s men, while she was left behind at the Inn with the task of using the candles and reach for the girl. Lure her from the den and make her an easy target for them.

She did not want to do it, but every time doubts arise, “Ah!” Ashara gasped and squeezed her teeth at feeling the pain on her wrists, as a jolt when straight towards her heart.  She needed to get to work at once before things degenerates.

However, right as she was about to pull them out of the chest, a knock came from the door, and Ashara immediately grabbed her dagger, asking, Who is it?”

“A friend who comes to pay a visit led by curiosity,” the man said, and Ashara approached the door, opening it a bit and peeking to see who it was. A sturdy man with a long dark robe and hood on his head, but whose face she recognized. He was the one they called the Spider, and the last time she saw him was at Harrenhall, where the Mad King showed without announcement.

Ashara stepped aside, opening the door, but never letting the knife go. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Lord Varys?"

“Curiosity I would say. I heard you are here for the Targaryen girl,” the spider said, looking outside the window, before closing them. “I would like to know more about her.”

 “What makes you think I know anything about her, Lord Varys?”

“The girl lived her life in exile along her mad brother, Viserys. You come from Essos.”

“I come from Qarth, the furthers city in the east. They lived between the Free Cities west of Qarth.”

“Let me tell you a story, my lady. A story about a boy who escaped a city in flames, while his house was crumbling over the bones of his mother and his little sister,” the man said, leaning forward. “He grew up in the shadows, shaped to become the perfect king, the perfect warrior. What Westeros needs in crucial moments. While the eyes of his enemies were settled upon his kin, Aegon grew up in the free city of Tyrosh under the care of an exiled knight to whose care the boy’s father was so dear.”

“Aegon?” asked Ashara confused, thinking she heard wrong until the gave her a look and she realized that he was talking about Elia’s child.  “I thought he died during the Fall of King’s Landing smashed against the Wall?”

“He didn’t, my lady. Aegon has been shaped for rule before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law, and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisher folk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them.”

“Why are you telling me this, Lord Varys? What do you want?”

“The good of the realm. I’m aware of what ways can be learned in Qarth.  What the warlocks teach.”

“What makes you think I know those ways?”

“The candles in your chest.” And upon hearing that, Ashara got up, moving to the window and opening it.

“Well, I suppose you are here to propose me a deal.”

Maghthall…

Hours had passed, since the enemy arrived, and started besieging the castle, while for all this time she was hiding in the cave with the women, the children and her dragons, but she was starting to lose her patience.

Dany could see their judgemental looks of them upon her and hear their complaints. Whispers about the fact that she wasn’t using the dragons to protect them.

“Pay no heed to their words, my child.”

“I don’t, uncle, but they are right. I should be out there with Jon and help him fight back the enemy because I’m the reason of why they are here.” Then the anger was replaced by guilt, and she added, sighing, “I feel so useless, Uncle Aemon. I wish I could help.  I wish that the Targaryens before me would be proud of me in the afterlife, but I know that if I do that, I will endanger my child.  And I don't want that."

“They are already proud of you, little Daenerys.  You have done something extraordinary. Something new and never happened before in living memory. You should be proud of it.”

“Yet in the hour of need, they are of no use.

Aemon said nothing after that, and Dany pulled up her knees, hugging them and thinking. As she was doing so, suddenly she heard an echoing voice chant, “Bride of fire, Daughter of death, Child of three, come to us exiled princes.”

“Did you hear it too, Maester Aemon?”

“Hear what.”

“The echoing voice,” she said, looking at the door as more dust fell down from the cave’s ceiling, while at the door, a hooded figure appeared. She waved for her to come, but Dany desisted.

“Come with me mother of dragons and I will show you how to defeat them,” the woman said in an echoing whisper, before disappearing beyond the door.

So Dany got up immediately and with Darksister in hand run after the woman, opening the door, and heading up the stairs despite Dorhea’s calls that came after her from behind.

She could spot the woman’s dark robe, and soon enough, Dany found herself outside at the top of the castle where she usually came with her dragons to make the stretch their wigs. Pointing her sword Dany said, “Turn around and reveal yourself.”

The woman did, only to show that a mask was on her face. A dark lacquer wooden mask. Taking a step closer Dany asked again, “Reveal yourself.”

But again, the woman didn’t. She instead said, “You are in danger mother of dragons. One of the men accompanying the army is here not for the same reason as the others. Rather another reason.”

“Who? Why?”

“Qarth,” was everything she said before someone appeared behind her, saying, “Māzigon lēda nyke, Muña Zaldrīzoti.” (Come with me, mother of dragons.)

Turning, she saw him. Tall, of slender body, with dark skin and foreign clothes, while holding a spear as a weapon.

"Daor. Qilōni issi ao?” (No. Who are you?”

“Se āeksio jaelagon ao se se zaldrīzoti, Daenērys Stormbor,” the man added taking a step closer. “Māzigon lēda nyke.” (The master want you and the dragons,  Daenerys Stormbor. Come with me.)a

“Umbagon arlī!” she hissed, holding up her sword with both hands. (Stay back.)

“Lo ao obūljarion se hegagon hen aōha oktion kessa mōris,” those words made Dany immediately lower her sword, yet still not believing what the man was saying, and so, when he parched her, Dany sliced his face with Darksister, hopping to kill him, but sadly it didn’t end that way. (If you surrender the slaughter of your city will end.)

The man screaming, fell down to his knees, holding on to his spear, and Dany pierced him with sword before he could recover and strike.

However, as she was about to run back down and search for Jon, she could hear men coming from below. So, Dany immediately closed the door, backing away from it, and running towards the side facing the courtyard shouting his name. “Jon!”

There, Dany could see the chaos of the battle, and she feared that he may not hear her. However, suddenly, Dany heard loud clamps from behind and turning, she saw Ramsay sitting on the rail of the tower.

“Stay away!” she hissed, as the man pulled out the axe and a short sword. 

“Did you really think that I would let you slip away without consequences after what you did? No,” he said jumping down. “I have all the intention to serve you the fate you deserve, little, whore, but not before I teach you a lesson.”

In that moment, more men burst on the top, and Dany found herself surrounded. Alone and surrounded.

Jon shook his head, as he was trying to get up. He did not remember what happened, however, he could hear the heat of the battle.  Steel against steel, the smell of blood and shit and piss. Those were stories avoided from the tales.

Despite his head rang, Jon shook it, getting up and looking for Longclaw, only to hear a roaring man charging at him. He immediately dodged it before knocking him down, before grabbing Longclaw that was laying a few steps from them, stabbing him.

As he was looking around, Jon saw the Kingsguard Meryn Trant stabbing his men from atop his horse in his full plate. So Jon immediately charged towards him only to stop when the top of his castle cough fire and a dragon was flying above.

So Jon changed his direction heading inside fearing that Dany was there only to be followed by Trant who shout his name. “SNOW!” Stopping Jon turned his attention towards the man at the foot of the stairs that were leading up towards where Dany was and heard the man ask, “Where is the Targaryen whore?”

Jon did not reply, charging at the man, and striking powerful blows from above since the quarters were too small for the long sword, but was for the Kingsguard who backed away, and stumbling on the way, falling down.  When he did so, Jon stabbed the knight in the throat before heading up the stairs that were leading to the top, hopping not to be late.

His feet carried him as fast as they could to the last floor of the castle, feeling how the heat of the fire was getting more and more intense. But when he reached it, Jon's heart stopped as he saw what had happened.

His wife was lying at the foot of the staircase leading to the top of the castle, lying unconscious. Jon immediately ran to her, dropping his sword and, upon reaching her, collapsed on his knees, trying to call for her.

"Dany. Dany. No, no...Please don't die. Please," he clutched her body to himself, and for a brief moment heard his wife whisper his name. "Dany, Dany," he kissed and called her more, hoping for something more to come. Luckily, she was still breathing, albeit weakly. He needed to take her to the healer, but when he tried to pick her up, Jon felt moisture on his hand and then noticed fresh blood. She was wounded.

Without wasting time, Jon carried her to their chambers, as the chaos was still raging outside. Once there, Jon laid her down on the bed, before running away in search of the healer. He found him treating the wounded soldiers inside the great hall that was full of dust and damage.

“Varidos,” he called the man, rushing to his side. “My wife is wounded. She needs your help.”

“Those men need my help too, Lord,” the man said, tightening the wrap, as the wounded soldier groaned. “Those men fought for you and now they need my help.”

“My wife is pregnant!” hissed Jon, grabbing the man by the robe.

“Take me to her,” said someone else, and turning, Jon saw that it was Tom’s wife who spoke. As she was cleaning her hands of the blood, she said, “I was a midwife back in the reach. I helped many young peasant girls give birth, and even in those kinds of situations.”

“Then come,” Jon said, nothing, leading her to his room. When they reached them, Jon found Ghost laying on the bed next to Dany. His white fur was stained from the blood of the enemy. “Ghost! Down.”

The direwolf obeyed, as the woman started to touch Dany’s forehead. “She is burning.”

“Will she live?”

“I will try what I can,” the woman replied, and his heart was pounding in his chest. His whole body was shaking. The thought of losing her…was destroying him.

“Jon!” he heard Grenn call him, as he burst into the room. “They are retreating,” the boy said swallowing. “Reinforcements came in time from Bear Island. The men need to see you, Jon.”

“My wife needs me.”

“Go,” said the woman. “You are of no need here.”

Jon hesitated for a moment, before kissing his wife, and running outside to see what else he needed to do. Fire all around was burning and the dragon, the black one, was still flying around.

Climbing onto a horse, Jon with sword in hand and a few of his men in tow charged towards the enemy, who had been stopped by the Mormont force with a wall of locked shields and their spears stacked.

Slashing right and left, Jon pushed his way through the enemy, unleashing all his fury upon them because what had happened to Dany was their fault. No one was left alive at the passing of his blade.  No one. There was no honour in this. But honour went fucking himself the moment he saw Dany laying on the floor.

Victory was theirs.

Chapter Text

The days after the attack were tough, and Jon didn't know what to do.  His wife was lying on the bed, still unconscious and unaware of what happened to her. His people were in grief after having lost someone dear to them. His household diminished and he needed to rebuild all the things from the ground.  New resources,  new costs, but they meant nothing if he would lose Daenerys.

Now he was heading back to her bedside and gave the shift to Dorhea so the girl could leave. Upon entering,  Jon saw both of them sleeping and so he cleared his throat, startling the girl who immediately jumped to her feet.

"OH! My lord Jon…I was…I…."

"Leave."

"Apologies," she said,  leaving as quickly as possible,  and Jon closed the door behind. Then he approached his wife, leaning down and laying a kiss on her forehead. She no longer burned. That was a good sign. She was recovering. Pulling the covers up, jon caressed her cheek for a moment and after pushing some locks that were out of place, away,  he sat down on the chin next to her,  sighing.

Ghost was still laying near the heart,  grunting and groaning lazily while guarding their back.

"Mmmm…Jon…" he heard his wife breathe his name, and so he immediately got up. 

"Dany!" He happily whispered, kissing her, but restraining the excitement . "I was so worried."

"The child…" she asked in a choking voice while trying to move her hand up to the belly, but Jon immediately stopped her, and Dany's beautiful eyes slowly opened. "Jon?"

"The child…the child is lost," he said with his gaze fixed on their joined hands and a sob escaped her, as she started to cry silently. "Shhhh…please, Dany. Don't cry. Please my love."

"How can I not cry when we lost our little one," she cried out. "It was my fault that he died. "

"We will have more children, Dany," Jon said, squeezing her slender frames and reassuring his wife, but feeling how this lie was killing him. Was breaking his heart. But better his than hers who’s had been broken so many times in the past. And the one responsible for all this was only one. Robert Baratheon. The Usurper.

Jon felt her break from him, and turn on her side, blurting, "I should have died with him."

"Don't say that, Dany. If you were dead there would be no other reason for me to live."

But she flicked at his touch, screaming, "You don't understand!" As a sob escaped her again, "The anger, the pain, the grief I am feeling…You can't understand."

"Then make me understand. Share with me the pain, Dany."

"Out."

"Dany. Please."

"Out!" She screamed, laying on her side, shielding herself from his sight as her whole body was trembling. At that moment Jon felt useless and didn't know what to do. So he left the room, closing the door behind and sitting down with their back against it, hearing Dany loudly cry as if she was releasing all the pain. 

Jon felt someone shake his shoulder and he immediately jumped with dagger in hand, only to see that it was the healer. 

"What is it, Varidos ?" Asked Jon, getting up. 

"I came to see how the lady is and inform you that Asher returned."

Jon nodded, feeling his whole body heavy. Tired because he had slept on the floor next to the door, but above else, because of Dany. "I will talk with him and then go to take a bath. If anything happens. Send after me."

"I will,” the healer reassured him, bowing and Jon sighed,  leaving,  but his mind remained in that room.

Upon entering the Great Hall, which was being taken care of after the battle, Jon saw Asher chat vividly with Dacey Mormont, and to his surprise, he wasn’t alone. There was a woman with him, a young girl judging by the look. Charming,  with light brown hair, and green eyes. But behind this beauty, he could spot a cunning and ambitious woman.

The moment they noticed him, Asher immediately got up, greeting him. "Jon. Forgive my late arrival. I was…undisposed."

"I can see that," Jon retorted, nodding towards the woman with him, and the man immediately introduced them.

“Oh! Right. Where are my manners? May I present you-”

“Gwyn Whitehill,” said Dacey, getting up. “Your enemies. Bolton’s bannerlord.”

“My father is not an enemy,” retorted the woman, crossing her arms with pride and defiance, while the Mormont Lady only scoffed. 

“Your brother called the banners. I will take my men and head to Winterfell where my mother is awaiting for me,” Dacey said, and Jon moved away, to fill a goblet with one, but heard her approach him.  Leaning, she said in a far lower voice. “We both know the reason why he is doing this. Your father is a prisoner in the Red Keep.”

“I know. And I would have if Dany was in good condition. But she isn't. My wife needs me."

"And the north needs you."

"Where was the North when she needed him, Lady Mormont," Jon hissed, taking a long gulp, and feeling his hands shake with anger. 

"As you wish. Your brother will march on King's Landing and I'm sure he will free your father, but to beat the Lannisters you know what is needed."

"The dragons are too small," he replied, moving away. "Asher. I have a task for you if your services are still available," seeing the man nodded. "I want you to go to Essos and hire the Company of the Roses and the Wolf Pack."

"Sellswords?" the man chuckled while Jon nodded, finishing the goblet. "But if you need sellswords, why not the Golden Company? They have more men and-"

"They are too expensive. And beside that, these two free companies are from Northern's descendants."

“Then I will bring them here,” Asher said, leaving with the girl behind, who for all this time stood in silence. Jon noticed that Dacey left too, and he was sure the man went with her. He sighed, leaving  

His feet, however, didn't lead him upon where his mind was settled, but where his heart wanted to be healed. Their old kin. Knocking at the door, Jon cracked it open a bit, "Maester Aemon.  Are you awake?"

"Aye. Come in, my Lord."

"There is no need for formalities, Maester Aemon, " chuckled weakly Jon as he got in, closing the door behind him. 

"Forgive this old man, Jon.  His old mind forgets that he is no longer at the Wall, but in a war and welcoming house with the last of his kin. A kin he couldn't protect," replied the old man, with tears that were dropping down his cheek and a broken heart. “What is the reason for your visit?”

"Daenerys," said Jon, sighing and sitting down on the chair. "I don't know what to do, uncle. I try to approach her, to comfort her, but every time she pushes me away, before drifting in a silent sob."

“It takes time for the heart to heal, my boy. And even if that should happen, there will always be a hole in there. The memory of a lost child is not something you just forgot. Her mother lost many children and every time part of her died with them."

"I know. I understand that. And I want her to share it with me. Share this burden with me," Jon replied, biting his trembling lips, and feeling the tears stream down his cheeks. "What should I do, Maester Aemon?"

Have patience. Wait, and be with her every moment. Make her feel that she is not alone. That whatever the future may hold you will face them together."

"Even..." Jon stopped, biting back a sob, and swallowing the knot he was feeling in his throat. "Even if it will mean no more children."

Aemon did not reply immediately, and Jon looked at him, seeing the old Master clenched his lips, nodding. "Yes. Even if that was your future."

Jon sighed, getting up. "Thank you, Maester Aemon. Your words are always helpful and comforting in times of need.”

Winterfell…

Parry. Parry. Attack. Attack. Dodge, feint attack, and block. Disarming Greyjoy, Robb said, panting with sword at the throat, "Do you surrender now?"

“I do. You won, Stark,” the ironborn said, with his usual grin of victory and Robb let him go, before giving him back the trang sword and heading towards the table to quench the thirst. They had trained for all the morning in the courtyard while waiting for the lords to arrive. Most of them have come, while others, like those from the western side coast, were still on the wait. Or at least, that is what he hooped since last time he had news about them was when they went in Jon’s help. 

“You are ready.”

“Huh?”

“For war. You are ready. and you will win,” Theon said, emptying the cup in a breath.

“Lord Robb,” called someone from above, and looking up, Robb saw the young Bolton, Domeric leaning. ”Do you have strength for another ride?” 

And Robb heard Theon chuckled. “I do.” 

The boy immediately came down, and the crowd gathered in the courtyard. Lords and soldiers will watch him face one of his bannerlord’s sons, and this was a chance to prove to them that he can lead. That he will be their brother in arms, that he is a skilled warrior.

So taking his sparring sword again, Robb moved to the center ready to face his opponent. They moved in a circle trying to anticipate what move the other one will try to make, before Bolton charged at him, with powerful almost deadly strikes. Robb backed away while parrying, before dodging the last one and attacking him with sinks and strikes from left and right.

They went like that for only the old Gods know how long, till the moment Robb managed to stop the boy, disarm him and bring the blade to his throat. "Yield."

"I yield." And as he helped the boy up, the crowd started clapping and cheering with the loud laughs of GreatJon who did not seem to hold a grudge against him for the missing fingers. 

“You fought well, my lord,” said the boy with a smile, while panting. 

“You are too kind,” Robb chuckled, starting to head towards the table. “You are equally so. You managed to hold your own against me to the end."

"Almost," chuckled the boy, as Robb filled two goblets, and heard Greyjoy arrogantly say, "You are both good with the sword, but I outmatch you with the bow."

“Bows are for cowards, Greyjoy. Cowards like you Ironborn who go for the easy prey,” Domeric said, as Theon’s smirk disappeared, and in rage shot an arrow, not getting in the middle, while Robb held his own. “As I said. Under pressure, you are nothing, Greyjoy."

"Come. I'll show you what this nothing can do," Theon said,  rushing towards Domeric, but Robb stopped the squalling.

"Enough. The Lannisters will be your challenge." Seeing the Lady of Bear Island appear, Robb approaches her, greeting the woman, “Good day, Lady Mage.” 

“My Lord.”

“I know that your daughter, Lady Dacey went to my brother’s help,” Robb said, and the woman nodded. “I cannot wait for her arrival. My father rots in a dungeon and it is a matter of time before they take his head. I want to leave at the first light of tomorrow.”

“Then that’s what we shall do. And we will shove our swords up the Lannister's bunghole” laughed Umber, Robb chuckled and then left them there. He will need to instruct Bran on what to do in his absence, and of course, send a raven to Jon. Ask him to come here and watch over his brothers. And of course, get news about Naerys. Because no matter what happened in the past or to whom she was married now, Robb was still holding her to his heart. He still loved her.

Magthol… .

It was the hour of the wolf when Jon returned from the harbor, after having helped the builders to rebuild the settlement, or to be precise, start the rebuilding. He had been away for several days, needing to keep his mind busy since Dany didn't want him with her, and always shooting him out but besides that, he didn't want to think about the war that was about to break out between House Stark and the Crown. Or to be precise, that had already started. 

When he reached their old rooms, however, Jon's heart stopped for a moment because she was not there. She was not in the bed where he left her. And neither Ghost. Jon immediately rushed to the other room, where the dragons usually were, finding no one inside. Then he ran to give the alarm, before searching for Ser Jorah.

He found Mormont in the healing house, with Varidos and Aemon taking care of him. Or should he say. Of them, since there were more than him laying them unconscious,

“What happened, Varidos ?”

“Little Daenerys ran away,” Aemon replied, with trembling lips.

“Where? Where?!” shout Jon, before realizing, and immediately run away, then down the stairs towards the cave under the castle. The Iron door was open. Jon cursed himself for leaving it behind when he went to the harbour. Taking a torch, Jon followed the path through the very narrow passage that would lead him out, and after a rough sidewalk, he finally managed to reach the other side.

It was dark. Too damn dark and not even Ghost was with him since most likely was with her. 

However, there were only two paths to follow. Up and down. And dubbing that she will go down, Jon runs up the narrow path that was leading to the top of the mountain. Remembering that there was a cliff there, Jon increased the patch of his run, throwing the torch to the ground and only following the light moon. "Old gods. Pleased. Let it not be too late."

Jon ran so fast up that path that he felt his legs give up, but he would not give up, increasing his stride even more. After a few moments, he reached his destination, or to be precise a part of it, seeing Ghost tied by a rope and to a dry branch.

"Ghost!" Jon rushed to him, freeing the direwolf, scratching him behind the ears. "Where's Dany? Take me to Dany, boy."  And the direwolf led him to where she was, even though there was no real need for that.

A few moments later, he found her standing at the edge of the cliff in a very light white dress, hair left freely and nothing else, as the little dragons were flying through the sky.

Jon didn't know how to approach without frightening her given in what a delicate position she was standing. So motioning for Ghost to sit up, Jon slowly began to approach, calling her name. "Dany."

"No, Jon. Stay away. You are not going to stop me from making this," Dany retorted in a rough voice.

"You think that this will change anything?" asked Jon while taking another step closer.

"Yes, my death will stop whoever is looking for me and wants the end of my House," she replied, choking back a sob. "I'm sorry, Jon. But it is the only way so that you and those who are dear to me will no longer be in danger."

"Dany. Please."

"No!" she cried out, starting to sob. "You don't understand. The emptiness I feel, the anger and the pain...They have taken everything away from me!" She released a loud crying scream of pain, dropping to the ground, and Jon immediately rushed to her side, taking his wife in his arms, and holding her tightly to him. "I don't want to endure such pains anymore, Jon! They have taken our baby. Our baby." And she continued to weep and cling to him, while he was cradling her, and comforting, though not with words.

She cried her heart out loudly, while clutching to his body, until she had no more tears, and picking her up slowly, Jon started to move away from the cliff and carry her back down the path he had followed to find her with Ghost walking right before them, while the Dragons were flying above them.

Suddenly Jon heard her rough voice ask, “How can you still love me? After what I did.”

“What?”

“The child…If I stayed in the cave…nothing of this would have happened,” choking another sob.

“No, Dany. Please don’t cry,” he said, cradling her again. “It wasn’t your fault. It was the enemies. King Robert’s fault. And they will pay for this.” As those words left his mouth, Dany looked up with still wet eyes. “Robb is marching south to free our father from the Red Keep and save our sisters. I will join him. I will kill Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister…And I will keep you safe. I will always protect you.”

“Jon,” she breathed his name, caressing his cheek, and he took her hand kissing it. 

“I promise to you, Dany, that no one will hurt you again. I promise.”  And leaning down, he kissed her. 

King’s Landing…

Ned was sitting on the cold floor of the black dungeons where he had been locked following Robert’s death because the queen feared that now nothing would stop him from making himself an enemy of the crown. However, Ned knew the hard truth, and so did she. 

It saddened him to learn about his old friend's death, and Ned was mourning for him for the boy he was not the man he had become recently afraid of a little girl who lived across the sea. Now, with this turn of events, he only imagined what could happen next. The Baratheon brothers will fight for the crown since judging by Renly's character he won't bow down to Stannis who is the rightful heir. And on the other hand, there was Tywin Lannister, the richest and most feared man in Westeros. Many still remembered what he did to King’s Landing seventeen years before and the memory of assisting to that madness was still fresh in his mind.

Suddenly the door of his cell unlocked and Ned saw a sturdy man with a torch in hand approach. He could guess who it was but Ned felt too tired for that.

"You've seen better days, my lord," Varys said, kneeling with a torch in hand.  He was dressed like one of those guards from the dungeons and Ned could only guess that he was here to propose to him some deal. So Ned decided to play the game despite not being good at it. "Another visit? lt seems you're my last friend."

"No, no, many still love you. Your daughter, Sansa if I remember correctly, came to court this morning to plead for your life. She was taken as a hostage when you were sent to her, but she is still free to walk the hallways. 

"And I suppose she was on her knees begging for me. Hm! Did you laugh with the others?"

"You do me wrong, my lord. Your blood is the last thing I want."

"Want," chuckled Ned. "l don't know what you want, Lord Varys. I've given up trying to guess."

"When l was still a boy, before they cut my balls off with a hot knife, l traveled with a group of actors through the free cities. They taught me that each man has a role to play. The same is true at court. l am the Master of Whisperers. My role is to be sly, obsequious and without scruples. l'm a good actor, my lord.”

"And. Can you free me from this pit?”

"I could. But will l? No. As l said, I'm no hero, lord Stark." And Ned only scoffed.  "You will be happy to hear that your bastard managed to fight back the king's men. Of course, the dragons' help has served him well, but three-quarters of the sent contingent has been destroyed, while the one remaining is returning with Ser Merryn's head and a threat."

"It won’t be enough to stop the Lannister from killing her."

"Indeed. My little birds also informed me that your heir had called the banners and is ready to march south to free his father."

"Robb," Ned chuckled, taking another sip. "He is but a boy."

"Indeed. He is. But many young boys had been conquerors in their time. He may be one of them one day. What worries the king’s mother are the Baratheon brothers. Or should I say, Lord Stannis. He is a proven battle commander, though utterly without mercy, but of all the candidates, he has the better claim."

"Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir. The throne is his by rights," Ned retorted, however, knowing perfectly that it wasn’t the truth and that the true heir to that cursed chair was hiding in the north. 

"Sansa pleaded so sweetly for your life. it would be a shame to throw it away. Cersei is no fool. She knows a tame wolf is more useful to her than a dead one.

"You want me to serve the woman who murdered my king, who butchered my men, who crippled my son?"

"I want you to serve the realm! Tell the queen you will confess your vile treason against the crown to put a Targaryen on the throne, tell your son to restrain his hand from the sword and acknowledge Joffrey as the true heir, his sovereign. Cersei knows you as a man of honor. lf you give her the peace she needs with the head of the princess and promise to carry her secret to your grave, l believe she will allow you to take the black and live out your days on the Wall."

"You think my life is some precious thing to me? That l would trade my honor for a few more years of... of what? You grew up with actors. You learned their craft and you learned it well. But l grew up with soldiers. l learned how to die a long time ago."

"Your life may not be of value to you, lord Stark, but what of your daughter's life? Is that a precious thing to you?"

And Ned looked down, knowing very well the answer. He will gladly die for his children, but he is not ready to risk theirs.

“You were sent there for a reason, Quaithe of the Shadow. You failed in your task. Sádaba 's light had been extinguished and we don't feel the girl coming to Qarth," said the warlock. 

"I didn't fail. I showed myself to her. I led her to Sadaba-" But not finishing as a cry escaped her lips instead when Ashara felt her wrists burn. 

"You have one last chance before your flame stop burning. Bring the girl and her dragons to Qarth before…." With those words,  the warlock disappeared, making Ashara sigh and get up to pour some water upon her wrists. She will have to travel north now. To avoid further unnecessary costs,  but before that, there was someone else who she will have to see.

Once everything was ready for her plan, Ashara took the map the Spider gave him and left the tavern, and with her gaze fixed on Aegon’s Hill got ready to walk. However stopped the moment she felt a sharp point on her back and the voice of a little girl said, "Stay there!"

Ashara did but slowly turned in her place in order to look at her. It was impossible not to connect the lineage to which she belonged. The little girl looked so much like her aunt when Ashara first saw her in Harrenhal. 

"I know you. You are the woman whom my father has often visited in the past weeks."

“What are the reasons you meet him? Why do you hate my father?"

"I don't hate him," Ashara replied, swallowing, and taking a step closer, but the little girl pointed the sword at her. "I was going to see your father at this moment," said Ashara, whereupon, the little girl immediately asked, with great eagerness, "Will you help him escape?"

"No. I can't," she replied, sighing. It will already be a miracle if he can get in. 

"You put him in this situation," said the little girl, pointing her sword again. "You have to help him."

"Go to my room. Wait for me there and I will take you out of King's Landing," Ashara said, turning and leaving once the cape of the hood covered her thick long dark hair, hoping that the Stark girl wasn't following him.

Chapter Text

King’s Landing 

“ Father! Father! Help me father,” came Sansa's tearful cries, as she called for help, while he was running through the hallways of the red keep that were like a maze. 'Winter is coming. The wolves need to bond together.'

Suddenly he felt someone hit his leg and Ned woke up in that same dungeon where he had been locked. The guard left with the torch, letting the darkness come, however, the moment the door closed, he could hear voices from the outside.  Voices of a woman. A woman he knew well.

The next time the door opened, through a blurted and tired sight, Ned saw her appear. Or at least thought it was her since the person who entered was wearing a long hooded cape. Pulling the hood down,  the woman greeted him, "Hello, Ned."

"Are you here to contemplate your achievement? Seeing my life end in the same place where my father and brother died would make it poetic and undoubtedly will make you happy."

"No, it wouldn’t. I told you Ned that your death isn't what I want.

At which Ned scoffed. "Yet the reason why I'm here and my daughters are in danger is because of you."

"I know. And I want to remedy that."

"How? Can you free them? Take them away from King’s Landing? Do you have some hidden tricks up your sleeve," Ned said with sarcasm in his voice.

"Your younger daughter is with me, Ned. Safe in the room of a tavern in the flea bottom safe, and I will try to sneak her out of the capital."

"Arya? How?"

"When I decided to come here, she stopped me outside the inn, with a sword in her hand." And Ned chuckled.  "Now that I managed to get here I can try and help you escape." Kneeling before him, Ashara pulled out a jug of water saying,  "I managed to knock the man outside down but he won't be off for long. And on the beach, there is a boat waiting for me and whoever comes with me. We will sail to White Harbour before the city is awakened."

This picked up his attention, and hope filled his heart, "And Sansa? What of my elder daughter? Can you free her too?"

"I'm sorry Ned.  But I cannot reach her. She is most likely locked in some room of the tower inside the Red Keep. I can sneak Arya away only because she is outside these walls."

"Then you wasted your time coming here, Ashara. You should have known that to me my children’s lives are far more valuable than mine. Besides that, if I leave. If I run without her, then she will be the one to pay for my actions." She didn't reply, looking down, and Ned glanced at her. She indeed seem to have repented for what she had done, but at the same time it made him think that maybe this was nothing else but another trick to reach for the girl and his nephew. Taking a sip, Ned said, "Robb is marching South. He will win." If he was smart enough to make an alliance with the Baratheon brothers, Ned wanted to add but desisted. 

"I know. The spider told me when he came in the marrow. And I'm aware that your nephew is with him too."

"Jon." A smile appeared on his lips knowing that they will look at each other back on the field. “Ho do you know this?”

“The candles that were gifted to me by the warlocks allow me to see those with the ancient magic of Valyria. They both had that blood and it allows me to interact with them,” Ashara replied, while Ned didn’t even know what she was talking about.

“And so you used those candles to hurt them.”

"Their death was never my intention," Ashara said, in a low voice. "I only wanted to be freed from these chains that had kept me away from our daughter."

"I told you that I was willing to help you," Ned retorted with a clenched jaw. "There was no need for all this!"

"And I told you that the only way for that to happen was for her to follow me to Qarth," with the same ragging way. "But now it doesn't matter. The warlock gave me one last chance to take the girl to Qarth. I'm leaving for Winterfell this same night and I need to do it quickly. If freedom isn't what you want now then I will leave you to your misery."

With those words she got up and left the dungeon as Ned sighed, feeling powerless. He wanted to protect everyone and failed.

The moment she was back at the Inn, Ashara saw the little girl immediately jump down from the window, and rush before her. “Where is my father?”

“In the dungeons.”

“You promised me that you would have freed him," 

But Ashara didn't reply taking two cups and filling them with tea that was in a jug she was carrying before adding the special dust of mushrooms that will make her sleep enough hours to leave this place. If she cannot save all three she at least will do with the younger one, because Ashara was confident that they will survive this in one way or another.

"Are you deaf? I asked you why is my father still in the dungeon."

"Drink this, young lady."

"I'm not a lady," Arya said offended, crossing her arms in defiance, making Ashara chuckle because she was behaving like her aunt. But nevertheless, she insisted.  "I will drink nothing from you."

"Please, Arya. Do it for your father. It will help him."

"How can a…whatever that is, help him?"

"It's a special te from where I came. It will help him," Ashara said, but the girl kept looking at her with suspicion. But in the end, agreed and drank the content as did Ashara.

"What do we do now? How are we gonna save father and Sansa?"

"We aren't," Ashara replied as the little girl became red with rage as a pepper, however, couldn't proceed in the opposition,  falling asleep and Ashara immediately got her before she could hit the floor. "Forgive me, little one. But it was the only way to get you to Winterfell."

Magthol

"I wish you wouldn't go. I wish we could leave these lands. Go away somewhere else. Somewhere where no one knows us, no one would hurt us," Dany said, as she laid her head on his chest and listened to the beats of his heart.

"I would like that too, my love," Jon sighed as he played with her lokes. "But no place is safe for us unless we build it for ourselves. The dragons are growing quickly and soon everyone will seek them out. They will want them to use for good or evil things."

"Promise me that you will come back to me, Jon," she said as she rose and pulled down her chin so that she could look into his eyes. "I have lost our child. I don't want to lose you too."

"You won't. I will return to you with the usurper's head as a trophy," he replied, and Dany leaned down to kiss him down, slowly, tenderly, but soon enough it became more heated. But Jon did not go much further, saying, breaking, "As much as I want you, my love, it is still too soon for you."

She nodded, but that did not mean it was over. After all, he will be gone for only Gods know how long, and Dany did not want for him to fall prey to temptation because she could not satisfy him at this moment.

Seeing him close his eyes, and put his hands under his head, Dany took advantage of his distraction, and moved her hand to his cock, groping and feeling it start to harden and Jon's eyes shoot open, warning her. "Dany-"

"Shhh...Let me do it, Jon." And he swallowed, nodding, while his breathing quickened. 

Unfastening his small clothes, Dany pulled them down and saw his cock sprung free, already leaking. She bit her lips, feeling her mouth watering at the sight of him. Wrapping her soft hand around his hot, throbbing length, Dany began to stroke his shaft slowly at first, before increasing the patch.

Dany rubbed her thumb over the head,  hearing him moan in reply. She peppered his length with kisses on one side, before doing the same on the other one. 

“So big…so beautiful,” Dany purred. “Long. Thick. And all for me.” She liked the sensitive head, feeling Jon tensed under her while clenching his fist on the sheets under them. His eyes shut, and Dany started to work his cock with hands and tongue. 

“Dany,” he choked her name, barely a whisper, the moment she took his cock in her warm and wet mouth. 

Jon pushed his head more in the pillow, arching and bulking his hips, while Dany moved her head up and down, stroking his length with one hand and rubbing his sack with the other. She alternated between slowly sucking and licking his cock, the thick head spreading her red, plump lips.

“Fuck…Dany…Gods!” 

His hips surged forward and it pushed more of his cock into her mouth, and Dany gladly accepted him. 

With each bob of her head, she took more and more of his cock in her mouth, and even Jon was urging her more with his hand on her head. She took him inch by inch until her lips were pressed against the base of his cock and his long, thick length was down the tight, wet sleeve of her throat. 

Lewd noises left her mouth of her slurping and sucking his cock. Her eyes watered as she held his entire member in her mouth until she pushed herself off him with a gasp and uneven, deep breaths.

She took his slicked and glistened cock back in her mouth. Each time his cock parted her lips and she bobbed her head up and down his length, sucking him harder and faster.

By the way, he was breathing and the grip of his hands on the furs, Dany could tell her was close and so she let him go with a loud pop. She rapidly stroked his seeing his eyes shoot open and land upon her. His abdominal muscles contracted, and his body, trembling.  

Jon was groaning her name and she felt his cock twitch in her hand. So Dany took him back in her mouth. Her plump red lips had only wrapped around his cock and gave a sharp suck before he was spilling his seed in her mouth.

“Dany!” her sweet husband howled her name, bulking up. Spurts of his hot seed hit the back of her throat and she readily swallowed, while some was dribbling past her lips and down her chin. 

Letting him go, and rising up, Dany smiled cleaning herself with her long nightgown, and between pantings, heard him say, “Gods! Dany…This is the best farewell I’ve got.” 

Dany could still feel the taste of him in her mouth, and that brought warmth to her heart and in this cold and lonely bed. She turned and dosed for hours by now, before being tired and cold. So getting up, Dany put on her boots, her fur coat, and the small dagger Jon gave her, leaving her chambers with Ghost behind and heading towards the place that could bring her warmth beside the memory of Jon.

Once down there, Dany was engulfed by the warmth of the hot spring, while her dragons were sleeping on the rocks. So locking the door behind her, she took off her coat, her nightgown, and her boots, before moving to the water. It was so warm. So pleasant. 

She glanced at Ghost and saw him lie in a ball, on the grown too,  before she closed her eyes again, enjoying the moment. 

She was climbing down the stairs slowly so as not to slip and bracing herself against the wall. There was some ice on the stairs, and cold air was coming from inside. Her skin shivered, and fear took hold of her heart. This place was so dark and unwelcoming. Especially for someone like her. A Targaryen. 

As she reached the bottom, Dany saw the cold mist start to recede inward, and Dany followed the path. Coming down there in that light dress was not a very good choice, but it would not stop her. She could feel the gaze of the ancient lords on her, judging her, condemning her, and criticizing her, just as they always did when she came down here with the Starks' children.

Her feet carried her before a great dark door, from which came an unbearable cold. Dany raised her hand, but the moment she put her hand on it, she felt it freeze. Dany tried to remove it but couldn't do it and all of a sudden, she felt how her blood was being drained and the dragon fire that was burning inside her was starting to extinguish.

Her eyes shoot open, and Dany found herself back in the caves with the dragons and Ghost. It seemed she fell asleep, but such a strange dream it was. She will have to ask Maester Aemon and decide what to do.

A moon later…

Moat Cailin  

For the past hours, they were stuck in this tent discussing what course to take now that they were on the march. Some were suggesting to follow the King's Road and face Tywin Lannister in open-field because numbers weren't everything according to GreatJon while others were advising Robb to follow the Twins' pass, cross the trident and break the siege of Riverrun.  That way the riverlords would have joined them. Jon thought it was a valuable plan, but not his as he had something else in mind, however, not having had the chance to express it yet.

Suddenly they got interrupted by someone at the entrance of the tent. Someone who Jon didn't want to see, but nevertheless had to acknowledge as such, and rise to his feet along the other lords greeted Lady Stark with a bow.

"Mother!"

"You look…well," Lady Stark said, but the moment her gaze fell upon him, her jaw tightened, and the warmth that had been there. Gone.

"Lady Catelyn, you're a welcome sight in these troubled times," Lord Umber eagerly said, while Greyjoy intruded as usual without being asked. "We had not thought to meet you here, My Lady.”

"I had not thought to be here,” she retorted, while her cold stare landed upon him. “I would speak with my son alone. I know you will forgive me, My Lords."

“You heard her! Move your asses!” Umber roared. “Come on, out. You too, Greyjoy.” And seeing Theon being pushed, made him smile. “Have no fear, My Lady. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned.” He then turned to the Master at Arms of Winterfell. “You old devil, Rodrik.”

"Jon."

"You're not wasting away, are you?"

Jon followed the men, but he didn’t move too far, wanting to hear what they would say even though he shouldn't.  But if it's about his father and the girls, then he needed to know too.

Since they were alone, Lady Stark broke all the formalities, and after a hug Jon heard her say,  "I remember the day you came into this world, red-faced and squalling. And now I find you leading a host to war."

"There was no one else."

"No one? Who were those men I saw here?"

"None of them are Starks, except Jon."

And he could see the woman’s grimacing at hearing that. "All of those men are seasoned in battle.”

"If you think you can send me back to Winterfell…"

“Oh, would that I could.”

“There was a letter. From Sansa.”

”From the Queen, you mean.”

"There's no mention of Arya," the woman said after a few moments, and Jon's heart pounded in his chest. 

“No. And I really hope something bad doesn't happen to her. I don’t know what to do.”

"How many men do you have?"

"Eighteen thousand. If I go to King's Landing and bend my knee to Joffrey…"

"You would never be allowed to leave,” the mother immediately said. “No. Our best hope, our only hope, is that you can defeat them in the field.”

"And if I lose?"

“Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children, when the Mad King fell?

"They were butchered in their sleep, on the orders of Tywin Lannister," Robb said and remembering that the blood inside Jon boiled with the desire of making the Old Lion pay for this act.

"Yes. And the years have not made him kinder. If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die, we die." Jon vowed that they won’t have the same end.

"Well, that makes it simple then."

"I suppose it does."

"There is another way," Jon said, stepping in, and that seemed to irritate Lady Stark,  who jumped to her feet screaming and cursing at him. 

“How dare you enter without permission, bastard. If we were in Winterfell-" 

"Mother. Please," Robb stopped her.

"Can't you see that he is trying to win glory and take what is yours!"

"I don't seek glory my lady and neither have the intention of stealing my brother's birthright," Jon said, enraged by her attitude. "I'm no longer the boy you mistreated me a long time ago. Now I'm a grown man with a family of my own, and land. I don’t need Winterfell.  But I also don't need to ask your permission for what I'm going to do."

"Mother. Please. We don’t need these squabbles when the enemy is outside," Robb said, surprising him. Jon never thought he would take his part in a fight with Lady Stark.  "Please Jon,  tell me what you had in mind."

"Ride to White Harbour. Take a merchant ship and head to King’s Landing. I will sneak inside the city and save our father and sisters."

"This is insane."

"You should follow the path to the trident,  cross it and break the siege. Once that is done, we are going to face Tywin Lannister and his host without fearing being trapped between two armies. ."

"Are you sure you can do it?" And Jon nodded. "Then that's what we shall do. I will hold the Lannister away from the capital while you will save father and our sisters from Joffrey's hand. I will choose the best warriors who will come with you."

"Not many, Robb. We need to be sneaky. Large number of Northmen draw attention."

His brother nodded, and so Jon left the tent, not wanting to be a moment longer in that woman’s presence, and of course get ready for the journey.

Winterfell…

It has been months since the last time she had been in this place and the memory of what happened in the past seemed so fresh and recent now that she was back here again.  However, her children's and Ghost's presence was helpful to ease the burden, not to mention that she was happy Robb wasn't here.

And as she was getting down from the horse, Dany suddenly heard someone scream her name. Or should she say her fake name. "Naerys!"

Turning,  Dany saw little Rickon running in her direction followed right behind by Hodor who was carrying in his arms, Brandon. She immediately bent down, spreading her arms and welcoming the little boy that she kind of considered now as a brother, hugging him tightly. 

"I've missed you so much, Naerys. Since you left, no one wants to tell me stories."

"Oh, I'm sure someone does."

"Yes. But she is not like you," the little boy stated, and Dany blushed, looking down grateful for such a compliment since in the past her brother always called her stupid little girl. "Robb left for war with the promise of saving father and sisters, but he will never return."

"Why do you say this? Of course, he will return," Dany reassured the little boy,  wrapping her arm around his shoulders and starting to walk.

"I saw it. One night while I was running with Shaggydog through the crypts."

“And what were you doing down there at night?" 

Rickon shrugged his shoulders, saying, "I saw my father's statue in one of the free spots there. He was standing,  holding Ice in hand and facing aunt Lyanna. That means he's dead, doesn't it?"

"No. Of course not. Your father is alive and soon you will see him again.  Just like you will see Arya and Sansa again."

The boy smiled,  as she lightly pinched his cheek before getting up and being greeted by Bran. 

"Hello, Dany."

"Hodor. Bran," she greeted the giant man and the little boy and hugged him. "It's so good to see you again." Before breaking.  "You look…good."

"Thank you. But I'm a cripple now," he retorted with sadness. "My dream was to be a warrior. Now I will no longer be able."

"Don't say that, Bran.  You can still be a warrior even if you can't walk," Dany reassured him, with clapped hands before her belly. "There were some warriors who were that way." She continued trying to raise his spirit. "There was a Firstman king who couldn't walk but became the fearsome of the warriors of his time."

"You are making up."

"No. I'm not. The Boneless he was called. You know that I'm not good at lying and when you come to Maghull I will show you the ancient scripts about him," Dany replied, trying to be as convincing as possible, and the young boy smiled as did Hodor. "However, what I know for sure is that you have become a very good rider."

"I am," the boy said proudly. "And I also started to practice shooting with the bow from the horse.  Maester Luwin said that if the young Dothraki can, there is no reason for me to not do it."

"Really? But that's wonderful. Then maybe we can go hunting together soon," Dany said, smiling eagerly, and he nodded.

"Come, Naerys. We were about to break the fasts."

A few moments later,  Dany found herself in the Great Hall of Winterfell with the two boys and Maester Luwin at the great table,  while her retinue were breaking their fasts on another table. 

As she was eating small pieces of meat after pieces, Dany pondered how best to approach the reason of her coming to Winterfell, because she didn't want to scare the children of a possible evil being imprisoned inside the crypts.

Suddenly she heard Rickon ask, "What are you carrying in those big cages, Naerys."

"Dragons," she replied bluntly because there was no reason to hide them further.  Soon everyone will know anyway. 

"You bring great danger here, my lady. With the men away and should someone come after them, we won't be able to protect you or them."

"You don't have to, Maester Luwin.  They may be small but they can protect themselves on their own. Themself and their mother of course."

"Is it true, Naerys? That the white Walkers have returned."

"I fear it is. But we didn't see one of them. We saw only a man that returned from death. And only fire can kill him."

Silence fell upon them after those words and Dany resumed eating hoping that maybe one of them will revive a tale from Old Nane.

"Where is Lady Stark? I thought that with Robb off to war she will be here," Dany said, breaking the silence.

"She left for King’s Landing prior to the war to present the evidence of the Lannister betrayal to Lord Stark, but since now king Robert is dead and Lord Eddard prisoner she is most likely returning."

"With your permission,  Maester Luwin,  I will go for a ride," Brandon said, and the old man nodded as Hodor picked him up and carried the boy away, followed right behind by Rickon. 

Once alone, she said, "He looks well. Does he remember anyway?"

"Nothing.  Whatever he saw in that moment it's lost to us. Or maybe he refuses to reveal it," the old .man replied, before getting up. "I will inform the servants to get some rooms ready."

"I will take Jon's old one," she immediately said and Maester Luwin nodded, leaving,  while she sighed. She needed to go down there and see it by herself. 

Winterfell. One of the oldest places in Westeros. It was just like how Ned described it a lifetime ago. Before the war and the despair hit them, he had promised to show it to her one day. And here now she was, but without him.

Now it was time to search for someone who will be able to accompany her to the Gift, but suddenly she heard someone say the Stark’s girl name and turning towards the keep, Ashara saw a young girl of slender frames, with silver-golden locks and amethyst eyes, standing on the wooden stairs. It was undoubtedly her. Daenerys Targaryen, Daughter of Queen Rhaella.

"Naerys!" Arya shout running towards the girl as the other one climbed down the stairs, bending and hugging the moment the little girl collided her body with the Targaryen, as I'd they were lost sisters who didn't saw each other in ages. Ashara observed carefully the interaction between the two, hearing how the Targaryen girl was questioning her about what happened and how she escaped King’s Landing while Arya only glared at her, still mad for the way Ashara smuggled her out of the city and for leaving the father and the sister there.

So, the moment the Targaryen princess looked at her, Ashara approached them, with a stern expression.  

"Rytsas, dārilaros Daenērys. Brōzio ñuha iksis ashara dayne se nyke māzigon mirre se ñuhoso hen qarth syt ao." (Greetings, Princess Daenerys. My name is Ashara Dayne and I came all the way from Qarth for you.)

Chapter Text

Winterfell 

Breed and salt had been given to the woman the moment she was welcomed inside the keep, and Dany was eager to find out the reason why she was there since the Lady said that she was there for her. 

"Now that we have observed the honor of the guest rights, tell me what is the reason for why you searched for me, my lady."

"The dragons."

"Of course. How could I be so naive in thinking that there was another reason besides the dragons of why you were here."

“Actually it is. I wanted to see the little girl back home,” said, making Dany arch an eyebrow in response. “It’s what I promised her father.”

“That’s not what she has told me. She told me that you drug her, kidnaped her, and left Lord Stark and Sansa in the Lannister's hand. So what stops me from sentencing you to death for treason against House Stark?”

“Nothing. That’s what everyone would have done. And you still can do it.” To which, Dany looked confused. “I know what you suffered Daenerys Targaryen, and I fear it was my fault.” the woman continued while taking a step closer. “I could defend myself by saying that I was forced, but for what purpose? It will not change the fact that I had a hand in your pain.”

“What are talking about? How could you had a hand in what happened to me?” Dany asked, still confused, until it hit her, and swallowing, she asked, “You are her, aren’t you? The ghost I followed from the cave the night of the attack. The woman with the dark robe. ”

“I am. The warlocks commanded me to lure you out so that Sadabà could kidnap you,” the woman replied, and in that moment, the realization hit her, and Dany’s hand moved to her belly. She felt the anger arouse, the fire igniting, and the dragon waking up. “Because of you, I lost my baby." And she choked a sob, taking a step back because of that memory.

“I also warned you that you were in danger, but you didn’t listen to me,” the woman said, making Dany chuckle bitterly. “Warned? Warned? If you have warned me then Then my baby would still be here!”

“I-”

“Guards!” Dany called for them, all furious, and they got inside. “In the name of House Stark, I charge you of treason and attack the House. Take her to the dungeons. Lock her in those cold cells, without food, water, and leave her to herself." 

The two guards exchanged looks, and Dany, turning to them, asked with a stern face, "Shall I send for your lord?"

There was no need to add more, for the two men to take the woman away, while she sat down on the ledge, breaking into sobs with a hand on her flat, empty belly.

Hours later…

She walked and cried for hours in this wood, before sitting down under the heart tree and pondering on what to do. She should execute the woman with dragon fire, but will that bring her baby back? No. Of course, she will never forget such an act, but the very cause of her pain were the Warlocks. And Dany wondered if they had a hand in the voices she heard in Illyrio's manse before hatching the dragons. And there was only one person who knew things about them.

“Here you are!" Dany heard Arya exclaim while standing with hands on her hips. "I searched for you all the days. Where have you been?"

"Here and there," retorted Dany, sniffing.

“Are you crying? Why are you crying?” asked Arya dropping to her knees. 

“I am not crying. Something got in my eyes and tears fell."

"Why did you leave without saying farewell, Naerys?"

"So you wouldn't suffer. And so I wouldn't suffer," Dany replied. "I am sorry, Arya. I know I hurt you and that you were angry, but I couldn't stay here one moment longer."

"Because of Robb, wasn't it? I may be young but I'm not stupid," Arya murmured, and Dany's gaze lifted to her. 

"No. It wasn't because of Robb," Dany reassured her, and part of it was true, but the other half of the reason why she left was of course him. "Jon and I got married, Arya" Dany blurted out, and Arya's mouth dropped, gasping and asking in disbelief, "You and Jon? Married?"

Dany nodded. "As soon as we left Winterfell. We went to the Wall to see one of my lost kin, and on an expedition beyond it, we got married before the Old Gods."

"So now we are actually lawful sisters," Arya replied, and Dany didn't know if it was happiness she felt in her voice or anger. "Arya-"

"I'm so glad!" the little girl exclaimed, throwing herself onto Dany, and wrapping her arms around her neck. "Not that I didn't already think of you as such. But I'm glad we are for real now." And Dany laughed, clutching the little girl to herself before she pulled away. "It's true that you have dragons?"

"Yes. Do you want to meet them?" asked Dany, and the little girl nodded so quickly that Dany was afraid her little head would pop off. "Then come. Because after that I need to see someone else."

"The woman?"

"Yes. She knew something I need and I want answers."

"Why? She left father in the dungeon. There is nothing we need from them."

"Robb will free him, Arya. And he will save Sansa too. Soon you will see them again," Dany reassured the girl, with an arm wrapped around her shoulders., before leading her to where her dragons were.

They are so beautiful," Arya said as she lowered herself to look at them more closely, while they were sleeping, even though part of her was a little afraid. But besides the fear, there was obviously fascination. "What are their names?"

"Morghul is the black one, and it means-"

"Death. I know. The First Swordsman of Braavos revealed it to me," Arya said, but not revealing much more. "And the others?"

"Viseryon is the cream one to honour my Brother Viserys, and then there is Rhaegal. The Green one. I named him in honour of my elder brother, Rhaegar," Naerys replied, and Arya saw the cream one raise his head and yawn. After he shook his head, the little dragon, who was the size of a hound or maybe even bigger, approached them, looking at her confusedly. 

"Go on. Try touching it. Jon did." And Arya did so, slowly, all excited. When her hand made contact with the dragon's scales, Arya's skin shivered. It was such a strange sensation, and she couldn't believe it that she was finally seeing and touching these creatures that were until now only stories.

He is the gentlest and most loving of the three, if I may be frank, so it doesn't surprise me that he is friendly to you," Naerys replied, and as said, the Black one immediately responded aggressively, when he woke up in a daze, hissing at her with raised crests and bared fangs.

“Morghul. Lykirī... Lykirī…” (Morghul. Be calm… Be calm…)

The Dragon calmed down, no longer hissing, but neither approaching her, and Arya didn’t want to push him further. However, now Arya wanted answers, and getting up, asked, “How can you control dragons?”

“Well, for that we need to sit down near the fire for a long Day. Or evening,” Naerys replied, with a smile, and her eyebrow rose, eager to hear more.

With water and food, Dany headed to the dungeon to see the woman. Several days had passed since she was locked up there, without food and with very few water rations. 

The woman was lying on the floor, curled in a ball, and wrapped in her cloak, shivering, and not in the best state. She felt partly guilty. Usually, she did not go this far, but the memory of the loss always made her angry.

"I brought you some food."

"I don't need it," she stammered. 

"I do not want your death, my lady. I want answers," she said, setting the tray down. "The warlocks. How do I destroy them?"

"Their House. Only the fire of Dragons can destroy them."

"Why do you work for them?" Dany asked leaning with hands behind against the rail and looking at the woman. 

"I am their prisoner. They kidnapped me after I gave birth," the woman replied, getting up. Showing her wrists, she said, "These are my catenas, and the clock is ticking."

"I see no chains. Only bracelets. Is this another Turk like the last one?" asked Dany.

"No. No tricks. Wait a few weeks and you will find my lifeless body inside these cells," replied the woman, taking some water.

"The apparition. How did you do it?"

"Candles. They are in a chest on the wagon. Use them if you wish. You have the power. Reach the one you hold to your heart," said the witch, making Dany chuckle.

"Me?"

"Yes. Do it. One drop of your blood and you will reach him in the same way," the woman replied, and Dany did not believe her. It was not possible. However, trying will hurt no one. 

“Can you teach me how to use them?”

“I can. But in return you must come with me to Qarth."

"Come with you? I don't go anywhere without my husband."

"Yet he went to war without you."

"He went to save his father."

"I know. I have seen him. I have been watching you for a long time, princess," the woman said, getting up with difficulty, and Dany helped her. "Your husband hasn't been completely honest with you, even if he did it so as not to hurt you further."

"What?"

"He is hiding something from you, Daenerys Targaryen. Something that you will have to find out very soon and decide whether or not there is a future for you in that regard."

"What secret?" confused by her words.

"Ask him. Use the candles," said the woman, making Dany roll her eyes. 

"So be it. I'll try the damn candles," she retorted, to which the woman added, "There's something else you need to tell your husband."

"What?"

The hour of the Wolf was already upon her, but sleep didn’t want to claim her. Dany tossed and turned in this cold blade, her mind storming and full of thoughts about everything that happened around her. The woman’s words still buzz in her head of a secret her husband kept from her. Dany thought they had nothing to hide, but it seems he does. Or maybe the woman wants to drive a wedge between her and Jon so that she will leave for Qarth with the dragons. 

"No. It was not possible for Jon to hide a secret from her."

Suddenly Dany felt the bed sink and Ghost lay his head on her belly. Dany's hands immediately slid onto her fur, running her fingers elegantly across the soft surface. 

"Fuck!" Dany cursed, getting up and rushing to the chest. Pulling out the candle, Dany followed the woman's instructions as she sat on the cold floor with closed eyes. 

“Skoros nyke jorrāelagon se olvie isse bisa vys. Ñuha tolie paktot”

And suddenly she found herself inside the cabin of a ship. The surroundings was dark and blurry, but Dany could recognise her husband. He was laying on his back on a pile of grain sacks, hands interviewed on his belly and hugging a short sword with the had of a horse.

“Jon,” she called him softly, but he didn’t react. Dany bit her lower lip, taking a step closer, and trying to brush her fingers over his cheek. It seemed to work as Jon startled, gasping her name."Shhh, my love."

"Dany? Is it really you?"

"Yes, but not in the flesh. Only a ghost. And I came to help you."

"Help me?" How to reach the place where your father is. I know you are heading to King’s Landing. And I want to help you."

Her husband swallowed, nodding, and Dany proceeded to show him the way that he needed to follow to reach Lord Stark. 

Once she was done showing, Dany heard him say, "I wish you were her so that I could hug you and kiss you." And a smile cracked on Dany's lips, looking down.

"I wish that too." However the woman’s words appeared in her head,and wetting her lips Dany asked, "Is there something you are keeping from me, Jon?"

"Keeping from you? No. Of course not. You know that there is nothing I would keep secret from you," Jon replied, betraying nothing on his expression. "Why are you asking me this, Dany? Has something happened that I need to be made aware of?"

"Yes. A woman from Essos came to Winterfell. She has great knowledge about me, about you and informed me that you are hiding from me. Something that will make me question our future."

"What? Who?"

"Doesn't matter who she is. She helped Arya reach Winterfell-"

"Arya is in Winterfell?"

"Yes. Safe and sound. But I want to know, Jon. Is there something you are hiding from me?" Dany asked and upon seeing his gaze lower, she understood that indeed he was. Jon. I know you better than anyone. I know when you're hiding something. Tell me."

"Please, Dany. Leave it be. There is no need to bring that back."

"Bring back What?"

"No, Dany-"

"Bring back what, Jon?"

"The pain, " her husband mumbled, sitting down, with hands dipped in his locks.

The pain? What pain was he referring to? There was only one pain hovering and it was the loss of her child. "Is about the child, Jon."

"Enough, Dany. Don't-"

"If it's about the child…and you always seem to not want to talk about this kind of future…about me not being ready. Is there something the healer told you?" Dany asked, starting to put things together.  

"Dany-"

But his warning came too late as she realised what he was meaning. "Tell me it's not the truth."

"Dany-" but he couldn't finish, as Dany found herself back in her room, falling on the floor and blood coming down from her nose while tears from her eyes.

Riverlands

Catelyn was sitting on her horse far away from the whispering wood, with Ser Rodrick and a few of her father's loyal houseguards, waiting for the result of the battle. "We should go, my lady.

"No! Not till I see Robb come out of the woods victorious."

"My lady!" Rodrik insisted, only for her to shake her head and at that moment, Catelyn saw the Stark host come out and head towards the clearing, led by Robb among them with a tied and bound Jaime Lannister behind them. He was brought before her by her uncle the Blackfish, and Catelyn heard Robb say, while panting, "By the time they knew what was happening, it had already happened."

"Lady Stark," the Kingslayer greeted, sitting on his knees and completely covered with dirt. "I'd offer you my sword, but l seem to have lost it."

"lt is not your sword l want, Lannister. Give me my daughters back. Give me my husband."

"I've lost them too, I'm afraid."

"Kill him, Robb. Send his head to his father. He cut down ten of our men. You saw him."

"He's more useful to us alive than dead."

"Take him away and put him in irons."

To which, Jaime Lannister said, addressing her son, "Let’s end this war right now, boy, and save thousands of lives. You fight for the Starks, l fight for the Lannisters. Swords or lances, teeth, nails, fists, choose your weapons, and let's end this here and now."

"If we do it your way, Kingslayer, you'd win. We're not doing it your way. Take him."

"Come on, pretty man," and the men erupted in a cheering roar.

"Now that we defeated Jaime Lannister, and freed the Riverlands, it's time to head east and meet Tywin Lannister's host."

When night came and they were celebrating the victory and the capture of the famous Jaime Lannister, Robb saw Theon approach him, with a goblet with wine and a smirk on his face. “Aha, Stark. Now that we kicked the southern assess and got our hands on the Lannister golden boy, what are you going to do?” 

“Proceed with the plan. March east. Push Tywin Lannister towards the Red City and crush him against the high walls of the Capital."

Whereupon, Theon, becoming serious, and taking a sip, asked, "And the Westerlands?"

"What of them?"

"As long as Lannisport and the Rock are in their hands, the Lannisters will never be defeated."

"All in due time," Robb replied, with eyes lingering on those lands. "Once Tywin Lannister and his army is destroyed, I will march on the Rock."

"And your father-"

"My father is not here," he retorted, becoming serious, but the Greyjoy was not, and bursting out laughing, he said, " You enjoy conquering, Stark. You can't deny it. For every battle you win, you gain more ground and your men love you more than they did the day before. And for every cheer from them, you become greedier and greedier." Stopping, Theon took another sip, and sitting on the table, he added, looking down at the map. "You are like me, Stark.”

“We have nothing in common besides having been raised by the same man with the same code of Honour,” retorted Robb, or at least he was, even though his actions with Dany were a proof that he wasn’t like his father. 

“We are, Stark. We are. Both of us want more than what our fathers had. Than what they did or what they were. You, like me, want to be remembered in the annals of history for great deeds."

"I think you have enough wine for tonight, Greyjoy. Go to bed because in the marrow we will march on Harrhenal and Maidenpool."

But the Greyjoy did not obey, and leaning against the table, said, with great eagerness, “We can achieve both this task, Robb. With you on land and me on the sea. We will defeat anyone who stands against us. I could raid Lannisport and Old Town if you want.”

“And how would you do that? The north doesn’t have a big fleet.”

“No. The North doesn’t, but the Iron Islands do. And no one in Westeros sails and fights on sea better than the Iron Born,” Theon said, and Robb’s smile fell, looking at the two sides of the map. Indeed it would be a perfect match against the Lannister and their allies.

“May I have a word with my son?”

“My lady,” Theon bowed, before whispering, “Think what I told you,” and moving away with his goblet.

Glancing at his mother, Robb could see that she didn’t like what Theon was proposing, but before he could say something, the Lady of Winterfell said, leaning against the table. "Do not listen to Theon Grejoy's words, for they are vile and full of ambition. Your only purpose must be to march on King's Landing with the army of the North and Riverland."

"He has a point, though, mother," Robb replied, pouring himself more wine, though he knew he should not overdo it. "If the Iron Islands were to join us-"

"They cannot be trusted, Robb," cut him the Blackfish.

“I know that Balon Greyjoy cannot be trusted. If Theon were to become Lord of the Iron Islands, then the Lannisters would have no escape.

"And what will stop Theon Greyjoy from turning his weapons against the North and our allies?" his mother enquired, though Robb had no answer. 

"Your mother is right. You must think better about this matter. But if you should take it in the end, know that the Riverlands will always stand with you," the Blackfish said.

"Thank you, Uncle."

“It’s a mistake, Robb.”

“We need men, mother. The Riverlands and the North aren’t enough to defeat them,” Rob replied, starting to get tired of his mother always going against his judgment considering that all this is mainly because of her actions. But Robb did not voice this. He didn’t want to hurt her. “I need some rest, mother. Please.”

And she left, while Robb, looking at the Blackfish, said, “We need the Vale, uncle.”

“Yes. We do. But first, we need to secure the northern side of the Riverlands that leads to the High Road. We have to take Harrenhal," the Blackfish replied, leaning and looking at the map, while Robb left him there, after bidding good night. 

The Red City 

King’s Landing was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Founded by Aegon the conqueror at the beginning of his Conquest, later refinished and expanded by his descendants, becoming what was now the biggest city in Westeros, and maybe even in the known world.

Turning toward those who were with him, Jon said, “Attention men!  

Those within these walls are not our allies. Trust no one and keep your eyes open. The success of this operation depends on no one recognizing us as Northmen."

"If I smash your face, Snow, we will be even more believable," retorted Gryff Whitehill, making everyone laugh, and Jon with them even though he knew many of those men hated him. They hated having to be under the commands of a bastard whom they saw as an inferior. Or at least some of them like Gryff.

"Remember. Do not arouse suspicion."

Once docked, Jon bought the guards at the entrance with gold, then with the men headed into the city beyond the walls, following Dany's instructions and seeing the crowd running.

Stopping a boy, Jon asked, "Where are they all rushing to?"

"The temple of Baelor. They are taking the Hand of the King there."

And letting him go, Jon looked toward the men with clenched jaws. "We have to hurry. Get the weapons ready."

They followed the crowd until they reached a great plaza with a huge temple in the middle, on the stairs of the said temple, Jon could spot what was undoubtedly the Royal Family because Joffrey Baratheon was there with the kingsguard and the queen by his side. However, those weren’t the only known faces to him. There was his sister Sansa.

Seeing the statue in the middle of the square as a good place for an archer, Jon said to young Bolton, "Can you shoot the Hound and the king from up there?"

And the young man nodded, running away, while Jon waved to the others to scatter, and approach the stairs.

Suddenly, the crowd started shouting, cursing, insulting, and turning around, Jon saw his father approach, flanked by the Gold Clocks, limping and with arms tied. He wanted so badly to make his way through the crowd with his sword and free him, but he could not do so while Sansa was in danger. She may be the sibling he loved the least, but nonetheless, she was still a sister to him.

So, he stopped everyone from approaching but kept his hand on the sword anyway

Ned was brought to the stairs and turned to face the crowd. He took a glance at Sansa and saw the reassuring him. So addressing the crowd, Ned said, "I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King. I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son and seize the Throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, by the grace of all the Gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

The crowd shut, and threw at him, while the Great Maester tried to calm them. “As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. The Gods are just but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful.” Turning to Joffrey the old man asked, “What is to be done with this traitor, Your Grace?”

“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join The Night's Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And My Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father,” the boy said clear and loudly, while Ned looked at him. “But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

The folk erupted in a roar with approval and called for his head, while Sansa screamed, as a Kingsguard was holding her. “No, stop! Please, someone, stop him!”

“Put him down!” the crowd roared, while Ned was looking at them in disbelive. So this is how the people will remember him. As a traitor. 

For a moment, Ned thought he saw his nephew, Jon, between the crowd, but he knew it was impossible. It must be his sister who has come to welcome him to the afterlife. Or maybe she has come to hold him responsible for breaking the promise.

Ned lowered his head in recognition of his fate as the sound of Payne’s longsword cuts through the hushed silence. And as he was waiting for the blade to come down on his neck, Ned Whispered, “forgive me, Lyanna. I wasn't the father I should have been to Jon. I didn't love him as I should have. As you would have done. Forgive me, sister."

Suddenly groans and screams reached his ears and opening his eyes, Ned saw hooded men fighting against the Gold Clocks, his daughter lying on the ground, and the Kingsguard backing toward the temple.

"Father!" Ned heard the voice of someone he had not seen in months.

"Jon?"

"We must flee the city," the boy said, strolling up the stairs and cutting the ropes that were holding him, and giving Ned his sword before grabbing Ice and cutting the Hound's head with a slash and Illyn Payne right after him. "Thorren! My sister!" 

And Ned saw the young northern pickup Sansa and carried her away on his shoulder.

"Come, father. We need to hurry up."

Ned nodded, following his nephew as quickly as possible, seeing how he made his way with Ice through the guards that were coming. The sword was big and heavy, but deadly and in that moment, he looked as if he was one of those Kings of Winter who in the past carried the sword in battle.

He tried to help them too, despite being still weak and killing some, however the moment he stopped, Ned leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He saw his daughter start to recover and the young Bolton come to her side with a flask. “Some water, my lady.”

“Thank you, Ser-?”

“Domeric Bolton,” the boy smiled, while his daughter blushed, before quenching her thirst, and Ned looking at those who came, said, “Thank you, men. Your help won’t be forgotten and it will be rewarded with lands and castles.”

They laughed, exchanging looks, and Ned heard Jon say, “First we need to get out of this city.”

“Did you get the bastard?” asked another young man with long honey hair.

“No. Only wounded,” Domeric retorted, while Jon said, “Enough talks. It’s better to hurry up before they lock the city. Can you fight Father? Because that is what we will have to do to reach the harbor.”

“If it is needed. No amount of tiredness will be able to stop me. But Arya-”

“She is in Winterfell. She is safe.”

Ned released a sigh of relief. So she kept faith in the promise she made of taking her out of the city. However, before Ned could ask how he knew, Jon said, “Let’s move!” and they all started to run, and everyone followed in his steps, while Ned was keeping an eye on Sansa who was running with Domeric Bolton, hand by hand.

As expected, there were many men to block their way, golden clocks and red clocks both, but not enough to stop them. It was exhausting and many got badly wounded but in the end, they jumped on the ship, and Jon gave the order to the captain to sail. 

Joffrey’s screams were echoing through the whole Red Keep, while the old Great Maester was taking care of the wound. The arrow had pierced his chest, slightly missing his heart, and blood had spilled out in great quantities. So Pycelle could not tell her if the king would survive or not, and that frightened her greatly. Cersei was completely in panic at that moment since she was left alone in King's Landing. Jaime away, her father away, and should his eldest die, Tommen will be king. And he wasn’t ready. He was still too young.

Janos Slynt informed her that he had withdrawn all the Golden Hats in the courtyard of the Red Keep, and she immediately scolded him for his stupidity, ordering the man to seal the gates, and Maegor fort' seeing that the damage was already done.

Then, turning to the Kingsguard, she said, "Ser Mandon, Ser Meryn. You are charged with the king's protection. No one can enter here unless it is me or the Grand Master. Not even the servants."

They nodded, hands on their swords, and heading for the door while one was near the bed. "Ser Preston, Ser Boros. It is up to you to protect Prince Tommen and see to it that nothing and no one harms him or I will have you both castrated." And they exchanged a look, before nodding. "Ser Arys. I name you swornshield of Princess Myrcella. Find the best men of the Red clocks and put them in and outside the chamber."

Then addressing all of them, she added, "But mind. Should the Hand of the King not come here before the enemy you must be ready to smuggle them out of the city."

They nodded, leaving the room, and she turned to the remaining Red Clocks and said, "Arrest Lord Varys and Lord Baelish for high treason. Lock them in the black cells."

"Your Grace-"

But they were given no chance to argue, being dragged away. Hard times awaited them, but the golden lion will prevail. She was certain. Against any foe.

“In a few days we will be in Maidenpool," his nephew said while feeling two cups of wine. "I don't know if Robb broke the siege of Riverrun and got the riverlords on his side, so I want you to be ready should that not be."

"I will. “The men?” asked Ned, Taking a sip.

“Five of them died of their wounds. One of them was Eddard Karstark. His brother wiped at his death bed.”

“It is never easy to see a brother die," Ned replied, taking a sip, and remembering the heartbreaking moment when Lya died with the promise on her lips. It was still fresh and painful that memory. But it was time to relive it and tell his nephew the truth. "Jon. Come with me outside. There is something I want to tell you."

His nephew nodded, and they left the cabin, but not before warning the men about Sansa. He did not want to leave her alone, but not knowing Jon's reaction, it was better to do it away from them. Once they were outside, Ned took a deep breath of this fresh sea air, and with gaze fixed on the sun that was getting down, he said leaning against the edge of the ship, "Do you remember when you asked me who Jon was?"

Jon nodded, feeling goosebumps appear on his skin, and the heart pounding in his chest. "I'm ready, father."

"Before that happens, however, let me tell you a story," his father said, lowering his gaze and looking into the water. "Seventeen years ago a young Prince had hosted a tourney under disguise inside a cursed place with the intention of gathering allies and overthrone his father. Did you understand who I'm talking about?"

And Jon nodded, swallowing. "Rhaegar Targaryen. Dany’s brother."

"Dany?"

"Forgive me, I mean the princess's brother," Jon immediately corrected himself. “But I don’t understand what a tourney has to do with my mother’s name.” Jon said, looking into the sea before realization hit him, and looking at Lord Stark, Jon said, “Was Lady Ashara Dayne my mother?”

Hopes filled his heart at that moment as he was waiting for his father to reply. If Lady Ashara was his mother, Then he was a highborn bastard, and the reason why she wasn’t with him was because she was dead. However, his father crushed this dream and hope. “No, she wasn’t, even though, if I can entrust you a secret, I recently found out that we have a daughter.”

“Then who is my mother, Lord Stark? No horshiet, no stories,” retorted Jon, tired of all this.

“Your mother….” Lord Stark stopped, and Jon could tell it was paining him to say the word. It must be true that he loved her. “Your mother was Lyanna Stark. My Sister.”

And hearing that, Jon felt his heart almost stop. Lyanna Stark? Aunt Lyanna? He didn’t want to believe that the honorable Eddard Stark would bed his own sister. He shut everything from the outside, with hundreds of thoughts flying through his mind, and questions. Did he force himself on her? Or did he love her, influenced too much by Targaryen's history? 

“How could you? How could you bed your own sister?”

“What? Haven’t you heard me? I told you that I’m not your father.”

And this stomp was even heavier than the revelation of who his mother was. Jon fell down on the deck, with back against the wooden board knees up, and hands in his hair. If he was not his father then his life was a lie. He was a lie. "Tell me that's not true? That he wasn't my father."

"I'm afraid he is. Rhaegar Targaryen was your father. And you are the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, born under the name of Aegon."

“No, no, no," Jon muttered, shaking his head. It was not possible. It could not be true. If Rhaegar Targaryen was his father, that made Daenerys his kin. His aunt.

“Forgive me, Jon, for keeping the truth from you. I shouldn't have done it, and it wasn't what your mother would have wanted. I know it’s difficult-”

“Difficult?” chuckled Jon. “Difficult you say,” and getting up he screamed, “You don't understand the consequences of your actions!"

“Jon-”

“The Princess is my aunt!” “I’ve married her! I’ve bedded! We were going to have a child!” his nephew broke out, falling to his knees, in a silent sob, and he couldn’t believe how much happened in those few months. Of course, he kind of expected for feelings to come out, because they were young, and she was beautiful, but a marriage? A child? He didn’t see this coming. Not from Jon considering the way he grew up. Ned Glanced behind, seeing the crew murmured between themselves with confused and judgemental eyes. “How could you do something like this?”

“Jon-”

“I hate you!” screamed Jon, shrugging his hand away, and getting up. “You made me live a lie and endure the hate of a woman who was blaming me for a crime I wasn’t guilty off.”

“Jon. This revelation changed nothing. You are a Stark. You may not have my name or not have been sired by me, but you still have my blood. You are still a Stark.”

“This change everything,” his nephew retorted, calming down. “The woman I love is my aunt. My blood!” and cleaning his mouth, added, before leaving. “I should have left you there to root, to die at the hands of the Lannister. This day would have died with you and the hole I’m feeling wouldn’t be there.”

Ned didn’t know what to do. What to say. At least not at that moment, and if he can be honest, those words hurt him. This revelation went worse than how he imagined.

Chapter Text

Riverlands…

Once they got to Maidenpool, they borrowed a few horses and left the town heading north, not wanting to be too close to King’s Landing but neither to Harrhenal, since to the late news that was the place where the Lannister retreated. 

Since the moment of the revelation, his nephew no longer spoke to him or even looked, always sulking, and pissed with everyone. So, urging the horse next to him, Ned said, "Jon! We need to discuss what we are going to do next." And his nephew stopped. "Now that you know the truth you have to choose. Claim the throne as your birthright or let someone else take it."

But his nephew didn't reply. Sighing, Ned said, "I know how you feel."

Earning a laugh from him. "You know how I feel? Tell me, dear uncle, did you fuck your aunt?"

"Jon. If you love her as much as you told me, then don't let yourself be influenced by this revelation. You are a Targaryen. You're allowed to have such a union,” Ned said, despite not liking the idea much because of the consequences of having a new Aerys in this world. However, remembering Melos's teachings, Ned added. "Stark did such unions too. Jonnel Stark married his niece Sansa, and the same was for Edric and Serena Stark. My own parents were second cousins and so many in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond shared this kind of kin blood."

His nephew didn't reply, stopping his horse, and looked down, before sighing. "We both know, Lord Stark, that if I'm going to push for the throne it will be the end of our union. The southern will try to wed me to one of their daughters or granddaughters. They will kill her to do that, or they will kill me for one of their sons to marry her and become King Consort."

"Yes. They may do and they will try. I never liked the southern politics of stabbing in the backs and other treacherous ways, but you forgot one important detail.” And Jon looked up at him. “The princess has dragons. Small ones, yes, but still dragons. They are a lethal asset that would make anyone think twice before striking. I myself was afraid of them the first time I saw them and in the following days as I became someone whom they distrusted.” But his nephew again didn’t reply. “Think about it, Jon, but do it quickly because we don't have time to waste.”

Stark Camp…a few miles away from south of Riverrun…

“The remaining forces of Jaime Lannister’s forces backed off to the Golden Tooth, under the command of Ser Forley Prester, while Tywin Lannister retreated to Harhennal, and has with him thirty thousand men,” Robb said while moving the lion on the map. “However, I’m sure he won’t stay for long there. He will move his men to King’s Landing for a more advantageous strategic position and access to the sea. He is well aware that we do not have the number of ships needed to block the harbor.”

“If that happens, we will have a hard time breaking the Old Lion,” Edmure pointed out, making everyone. “We have to block his way and wait to see what your brother will do.”

“Half brother,” his mother pointed out, after shooting a glare at Edmure, who lowered his gaze, while Robb sighed. No matter what Jon will do, she will always hate him. She will always blame him for something he wasn’t guilty of.

“You said that we don’t have the ships. What of Greyjoy’s?” asked Bolton.

“I haven't received any news from him yet," swallowed Robb, avoiding looking towards his mother to run into her disapproval. "Besides, it'll be late anyway. It would take months for the Greyjoys to move their fleet from the Isles to King's Landing. The time is against us.” then turning to Edmur, Robb said, getting up, “With half your men you will return to the borders to guard them in case Jaime Lannister's soldiers who escaped want to march on the Riverlands again. While I, with the Northern army, will block his way to the capital.”

‘Aye’ everyone agreed, however, Edmure instead asked, leaning, “And once the Old Lion is broken, what will you do next? If your father is alive he is most likely going to side with Stannis Baratheon, who is sitting his ass on Dragonston while we fight.” Then he glanced to the north Lords, continuing, “But what if he is dead? What is the reason for taking King’s Landing?”

“I don’t think I follow you, uncle. Are you proposing something?"

“Yes. Independence. Whether Eddard Stark is dead or alive, we should demand independence from the one who sits. Be it Stannsi or whoever will sit,” Edmure said, and Robb glanced at his mother, seeing her shake her head, before looking at the Lords. 

However, before he could form a proper reply, a man burst in, panting, and bowing, saying, “Riders are coming, my lord. They don't fly banners.”

And Robb immediately shoots to his feet, heading out of the tent with the lords and his mother on his heels. His heart was pounding in his chest because he had a feeling about who they were even though they had no news from Jon.

The moment the horses stopped, and the Lord of Winterfell down, Robb saw his mother rush to her father, hugging him immediately, as her body started to shake, while Robb’s heart filled with Joy because they were alright and alive. 

When his mother turned her attention to Sansa who was down from the horse helped by Domeric Bolton, Robb saw his father approach him, and greet him. “Son.” before pulling him in a hug. For a moment Robb was frozen because his father wasn’t usually like this, but then returned, hugging him tightly, and Robb was sure that he heard him whisper, ‘I’m proud of you.’

“When they broke, his father said, “I heard about your victory in the Riverland.”

“They would have meant nothing if you and Sansa were gone,” Robb stated, before hearing his mother ask while approaching them. “Where is Arya? I cannot see her.”

In Winterfell. A trusted ally took her to safety to Winterfell before Jon rescued us. Has no one informed you?"

And she shook her head, while Robb said instead, "Come, Father. I am sure you are tired and hungry. Afterward, we need to discuss what will come next." 

The Lord of Winterfell nodded, and Robb turned his attention to his sister, smiling, “Sansa,” and she immediately jumped in his arms, starting to sob and whispering, “I’m sorry,” yet he couldn’t understand what she was asking forgiveness for.

When they broke up, he searched for his brother yet there was no sign of him, and Robb heard his father call him. “Robb. Come.”

Harhennall….

Madness. Madness and stupidity. That's what enveloped her glorious house at the end of her life. He has to live out his last days with the knowledge that he is leaving it in the hands of fools. 

Jaime a prisoner, and his daughter lose their most valuable prisoners because of the madness of a brat who believes that being king gives him the right to do whatever he wants. 

When the doors opened, Tyiwn glanced behind him, seeing that dwarf of his son enter and immediately head for the jug of wine, saying. "You have sent for me, father."

"We leave Harhaenal. We retreat towards King's Landing."

"Good. Because this is the worst place where to be if three armies will fall upon us," Tyrion agreed, drinking. "And what about my dear brother, what do you intend to do?"

"Free him of course," Tywin stated, sitting down. "Your sellsword. I intend to send him to the Stark camp to free Jaime."

"Bronn? But they already know him," the dwarf retorted. "I advise caution, father. Best to let the dust settle and the enemy let down their guard."

"You want that, don't you? For this plan to fail. That your brother remains a prisoner long enough to break. And perhaps that he loses his life, is it not, for the dwarf to take what he has so long coveted."

“You misjudged me, father. I love my brothers and my House."

"Good. Because for your house you will have to journey across the Narrow Sea. To Braavos.”

“To Braavos?” asked his son surprised. “Why would you send me to Braavos?”

“To strike a deal with the Iron Bank of Braavos. There is something that they coveted for years. I will give you the scroll with my terms to give them, and after that, you shall sail to Essos and hire free Companies. The Golden Company, the Windblown and the, and the Company of the Cats.”

“Why me? You have always thought of me as weak, a stain, a shame to your name and your glorious House. Why do you send me to the very city that will judge you the most?"

"Because you are a Lannister," chuckled Tywin. "You may be the most inadequate and ignoble Lannister, but you're still a Lannister. And you are my son."

Tyrion did not answer, remaining speechless, before taking a sip and saying. "Well, if I am a Lannister then allow me to give you some advice, father."

"Ha! Advise me?"

"Yes, father. For the sake of our House, and to safeguard the crown and its future, it would be best to split the children."

Tywin chuckled, leaning, "Do you really think I haven't already taken the necessary steps to do that and have not thought of what is to come?"

"I understand father. Forgive me. But if I may ask for a favor. Bronn-"

"He will go where I will send him. You will take a Lannister escort with you, not sellswords," Tywin said, and his son nodded, before dismounting and leaving the room, cursing under his breath. That degenerate. If not for the name he bears and the sharp mind he had Tywin would have left him to rot long ago. But now it was time to march on King's Landing.

For the past hours, he had sat under that tree on the hill, looking at the far distance and to be precise in the direction where the trident was lying. The place where his fa…where the man who sired him died seventeen years before at the hands of Robert Baratheon for kidnapping his betrothed.

Lyanna. Jon still couldn’t believe that he was the son of a rapist, that he was born a mistake, and that she died in giving him life. His existence was forced upon her and she died because of that. Because of him.

“Beautiful sight, isn’t it?” came someone's voice breaking his thoughts. It was Robb with Grey Wind at his side and Longclow in his hands. “You were missing from the meeting," Robb added, sitting down next to him. "We discussed what to do now and how to proceed with the prisoners from both sides."

“Frankly, Robb, your way is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“My war?” chuckled Robb. “Maybe you forgot the reason why we are here. Of why those men are prisoners.”

“I didn’t. I know very well why we are here, brother.” 

What troubles you, Brother? You don't seem to be as I remember you."

"I know. It's just that something happened lately that changed my whole world," Jon said, sighing, and resting his head against the tree. Biting his lip, Jon added, glancing toward his brother, "I need to tell you something, Robb. Something very important. Naerys...my wife, the girl Lord Stark brought from Essos, is not her real name. Her name is Daenerys Targaryen and she is the daughter of the Mad King."

"What?" gasped his brother.

"Yes. Our father rescued her in time from the claws of her brother who wanted to sell her to the Dothraki in exchange for their help in taking back the Seven Kingdom, and of course, our father brought her to the North to protect her from Robert Baratheon."

"I can't believe it," Robb muttered, somewhat surprised. "She is a princess of royal blood. Of course, one could see by her bearing, but Dragon's blood?" 

And Jon could feel some regret in his voice, but he didn't know if it was regret for not having her as a bride, or for having behaved badly with her. Obviously, if the former came true, Jon would no longer have this headache. There was certain scorn for what they were, and yet inside him, there was a little voice that said, `Don't mind about what others think. You love her, and she loves you. You wed her before the Old Gods, and to break that vow means being cursed.'

“You are truly blessed by the Old Gods Brother.”

Jon chuckled, only to become serious again. “But there is more. We aren’t brothers, but cousins, Robb.” And his bro-cousin’s mouth fell at the revelation. “Lord Stark did not sire me. I’m the son of Prince Rahegar Targaryen and our aunt-”

“Lyanna?” gasped Robb. “How?”

“I was born in the tower of Joy, and Lord Stark promised to his dying sister that he will protect me, and rise. He claimed me as his son, as his bastards, and so no one dared to question my lineage.”

“I can’t believe it,” Robb said, getting up. “For all his life he lied to you. Keeping the truth from you.”

“I know. And I hated him when he revealed the truth to me,” Jon agreed, getting up too. 

“But if you are Rahegar’s son that makes of the princess-”

“My aunt. I know,” finished his words, looking down. “I don’t know what to do, brother.”

“I do.” And Jon’s eyes turned to Robb. “Break with her.”

“What?” 

“She is your aunt, Jon. Your kin. Think of what incest will bring. If you continue with this union a new Mad King or a Maegor might be born. Think of Joffrey. Look what he has become. Do you want to bear such a thing into the world?"

Jon was speechless. He would have never expected that Robb would advise him to do this, especially considering how much they held at heart the oaths given to the Old gods and of course considering the history of those two Houses and how those two names are not the only ones the Targaryens have given to Westeros.

However, before he could voice the words, Robb said, “I will back your claim, Jon. We will march with the armies of the North and the Riverlands on the Red City and take the Iron throne from the Golden lions in your name, but you have to promise me that you will break with her. Or at least that you will not have children with her. I don't want to spill Stark blood just to see another Mad King sitting on that chair after you.”

“Eh, Robb, Robb, Robb,” sighed Jon shaking his head. “You disappoint me, brother. I thought you paid attention to Maester Luwin’s teachings. The Mad King and Maegor the Cruel, aren't the only ones the Targaryen sired. Jaehaerys was one of them." Taking a step closer, Jon asked instead, "But maybe that is not the real reason why you want me to turn her down."

“I would lie if I say that I didn’t think about it for a moment. But I know that that ship sank a long time ago. I fucked up, and there is nothing to do about it. So no. I don’t want her. I hope she will find happiness, because she deserves it, but not as your wife, or at least not as the mother of your children.”

“You are cruel, brother,” Jon said, hurt by his words. “I thought you had my back. That you were on my side.”

“I am.”

“Yet why do you cut me so deep when you know how much I love her,” retorted Jon, taking a step closer and feeling a knot in his troth.

“You didn’t care about my feelings!” roared Robb in his face. “You knew I loved her and that I wanted to marry her, yet you proceed with your actions. You twisted the blade in my flesh after stabbing me in the back.”

“Stab you?” chuckled Jon. “I always have been on your side! Always restrained my hand to not outshine the heir of Winterfell.”

“Yet you took from me what I desired more than Winterfell.”

“Took?” chuckled Jon. “Daenerys was never yours, brother. She was a free woman. Free to choose whoever she wanted, not forced. And she chose me.”

“Only because you didn’t give her time to choose someone else. You sneaked in like a snake and-"

“What is happening here?” the Lord of Winterfell broke the moment.

“Nothing,” Robb replied, cleaning his mouth and shooting him a look, as Jon agreed. There was no need for a fight. 

“Have you made a decision Jon? Are you going to claim the Throne or are you going to let Stannis get it?"

Jon looked towards his brother....no towards his cousin and stretched out his hand for the sword. Once he had it, he said, "Yes. I will go for the throne, Lord Stark, and I will do it with Daenerys at my side as queen."

Robb clenched his jaw, and Jon heard Lord Stark say, "Good. I will send the ravens to all the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms with these new ones. I will exhort them to come, to support you, in the name of your father, Rhaegar Targaryen. He was loved by the loyalist. They fought at the trident for him. They died for him. They will do it for his son."

“Then they died for a rapist. For a kidnaper,” Robb, pointed out, which Jon agreed, at least to the common knowledge.

But lord Stark surprised them, by saying, “That’s not who Rhaegar Targaryen was. My sister…Lyanna…She…she was a wild girl. The Wolf’s blood ran thick in her vein. You couldn't force her to do something she didn't want. Lya was like Arya. Sharp of sword and tongue. Ready to step and defend those who couldn't. She saw Robert for what he was, I did not. But she also possessed Sansa's traits. She fell in love with a prince who, alas, was already married. But Rhaegar, her, and Princess Elia had an agreement and he married her at Harhenal. Of course, that does not excuse them for what they did."

"The Faith will never acknowledge such union."

"Indeed. And neither will the Dornish unless you offer something." Jon scoffed. There the heavy prices come to light. 

"And tell me, what of the Baratheon brother? Word has reached me that Renly has allied himself with the Tyrells," Robb said.  

"So I heard. I had offered a marriage union between you and Lady Margaery but received no response to that. It seems they have found a better match."

“Then what will we do, father?” asked Robb. “We both know that Stannis will never back down and Renly, I don’t know him.”

“Neither will do,” the Lord of Winterfell, sighed. “So far he is the only one with the numbers. Eighty thousand reachmen and about thirty thousand Stormlanderls.” 

“If you will allow me, father, I will go to Highgarden to meet the Tyrells and Renly Baratheon, if that is where they are.”

“No. The Queen of Thorns is a very cunning woman. She will outplay you.”

“As Tywin Lannister should have done. Yet I outplayed him, father, and took his favorite son as a prisoner,” Robb retorted, surprising Lord Stark with his confidence, and surprised him too, so Jon, stepping forward, said, “I will go with him.”

“There is no need, brother. You are the face behind who the rebels will rally. You need to be her.”

“No, Robb. I need to be behind the enemies’ lines. If Tyrell has the bigger army, then Tyrell needs to get on our side,” Jon insisted as father and son exchanged a look before the Lord of Winterfell agreed. 

Eddard Stark placed one hand on their shoulders and said, exchanging glances between the two. “Watch each other side. You are brother. No matter the name you bore, or the blood that flows through your veins. You are wolves. And the wolves need to be together if the pack wants to survive.”

They both nodded, as Robb left to get ready, while Jon, addressing his uncle said, “Lord Stark. I would like for you to send a raven to Winterfell but without mentioning my lineage. I want to be the one to tell Dany.”

“As you wish. I will send Rodrick with Sansa and Domeric to Winterfell,” the Lord of stark said, and Jon nodded, as they both returned to the camp.

Narrow Sea…

Dany was leaning against the board of the ship, looking into the wide sea, listening to the seagulls and to the sound of crashing waves against the wooden hull of the ship. Last time she saw the Narrow Sea was when Lord Stark saved her and now she was leaving that place she had called home for the past months. 

It saddened her to remember such moments. She finally got what she wanted all her life. A family, a home, the house with the Red Door, only to lose everything because of who she was. A targaryen. Sometimes she despises such a name, but maybe she should no longer hide, or deny it. Maybe she should embrace the words of Fire and Blood.

“A peaceful day, isn’t it?” came the woman’s voice, who stepped next to her.

“I wouldn’t call it peaceful considering how the waves are moving.”

“It’s better this way, princess. It will make our sailing faster and the journey shorter,” Ashara Dayne stated, leaning. 

Dany nodded, turning with her back against the board, with elbows resting on top, and noticing that Ser Jorah appeared too, with hand on the sword, thought Dany wasn’t afraid of her because she had Ghost with her and the dragons were dancing in the sky.

After a moment of silence, Dany heard the woman ask, “What made you change your mind?”

“The truth.”

“I see. So you managed to use them?”

“And I would have appreciated the warning of losing blood and my sense before using them,” retorted Dany, but saw the confused reaction of the woman.

“Loose blood?"

She nodded. “From the nose.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. When I first used them it was inside the House of Undying. Maybe they work differently there.”

She granted her that doubt, before asking, “What is this House? What shall I expect from them?” Dany wanted answers and she wanted to know the enemy she will face.

“Your worse nightmares coming to life. The House will show you what your heart desires. It shows visions of the past and of the future but it is not a place for the weak of heart.”

And as those words left her mouth, Dany wondered if she will see her family inside. The mother who gave her life died in the process. The brother that chose love over duty, dooming their House, but who nevertheless she admired and loved. Or she will see the father whose mind went mad and burned the people who were disagreeing with him.

“You are afraid. I can see it.”

“Weren’t you?” scoffed Dany.”

“I was, and still am because the warlocks are dangerous beings and very unpredictable,” Ashara Dayne retorted.

“Then why are you doing this? Why don’t you run?”

“Because I can’t. Those bracelets are enchanted.” And Dany chuckled. “I know. You don’t believe in those things unless you see them or feel them. Neither did I until I felt it for the first time when I tried to escape from there at night with a ship. My wrists started to get warm, and I became weak. A hooded figure carried me back to the temple. And from that moment darkness ruled my mind for a great amount of time.”

“And how did some stranger warlock kidnap the daughter of a House such as important as House Dayne?”

“Because they have their tricks to twist the minds and you have used one of them.”

“The candles. So not only can they be used to reach those we love-"

"Not those we love,” Ashare Dayne stopped her, “but those who share the same magic. It is claimed that when the glass candles burn the sorcerers can see across mountains, seas and deserts, give men visions and dreams, and communicate with one another half a world apart.”

“Can I influence the Lannister’s decisions?”

“No. Unless you met them before. I only influence those who I meet.”

“We never met before, my lady. How could you influence mine?”

“Did I influence yours?” asked the woman even though it wasn’t really a question. “You descend from a great lineage, Princess. A lineage that goes back to Old Valyria. We share the same magic as House Dayne claims descent from the Empire of Dawn.

Dany understand, even though didn’t believe much in her story, however, there was something she didn’t understand and turning again to face the sea, Dany asked, “You said that they can be used to reach those who share the same magic. But the Stark don’t share the Valyrian blood.”

“No. You are right. But the first men’s blood flew through your veins too as much as through theirs even though it’s not thick as theirs.”

“I thought it only worked with the Valyrian blood.”

“It does.”

“But my husband doesn't have Valyrian blood in him,” Dany pointed out unless the mother shared the Valyrian magic of some kind. "Are you his mother?"

Ashara seemed to be surprised by the question and shook her head. "No. But allow me a question, princess. What was the truth he revealed to you?"

“That I will never be able to have children.” And saying those same words herself, admitting them, cut deeper than a valyrian steel blade. Sitting down, Dany pulled up her knees and hugging them, added. “After my miscarriage, the healer from Essos told Jon.”

“So this is the reason why you are going to Qarth? You hope the Warlocks have a cure for your loss?"

Dany only nodded, feeling her tears come down, and she immediately cleaned them up. Yet that wasn’t the only reason. She also wanted revenge. She wanted to destroy them and make safe those she loved.

“I’m sorry. But that won’t happen,” the woman said, sighing and sitting next to her. “If there is one thing they cannot do, it is that. At least to my knowledge.” 

And Dany burst into a silent whimper, feeling the warm tears falling. The woman pulled her to her chest, hugging the princess, and Dany clutched to her breasts. She knew this was wrong. That she shouldn't do this since it was partly her fault too, but she couldn't help it. Dany longed for the gentle touch of a mother in these difficult times. A mother she had never had.

“My lady,” someone called her, and Dany pulled away, cleaning her tears immediately. Getting up, Dany saw the Capitan through a blurted sight, and with him there was someone. He looked like a little boy, but he wasn’t. “We found a stowaway-"

“Arya,” Dany breathed the name, immediately rushing towards the little girl and pulling her towards her. Another familiar face that she has on this journey. The sister she had never had. However coming to sense, Dany pulled away. “Gods be good, Arya, what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to come with you. I thought you were sailing to King’s Landing with her,” Arya said nodding toward Ashara Dayne. “You took the dragons, Ghost, and Ser Jorah.”

“I am not,” Dany sighed, wrapping an arm around the little girl and leading her toward the bow of the ship. “But Jon is. Jon is going to King’s Landing with a few men. He will free your father and save your Sansa.” This reassurance was enough to calm the little girl, who smiled, and with arms resting on the edge, asked looking off into the sea, "But if you don't go to King's Landing, where are you heading?"

"Essos. To Qarth," she replied, hearing a roar from the dragon, who immediately dived into the sea and came up with a fish in his mouth, burning it and eating. "They like them roasted," chuckled Dany, earning a giggle from the little girl, as the dragon landed on the side.  

"Lykirī, Morghul. Sȳz valītsos, sȳz valītsos.”

"Will we pass through Valyria?" the girl asked excitedly, but it was the woman who answered first.

"Yes. And that is why we should write something about your body. To protect you from the shadows."

"Write? I don't think so," the girl replied, and Dany agreed with her, while the woman, taking a step forward, said with intertwined hands. "Then you will die."

"We have dragons!" stated Arya, making everyone laugh, and the woman left, but not before saying, "You are not the last of your bloodline if that is what you fear. There are two more who will be able to carry on the Targaryen line, one of whom I am certain, while about the other I can only assume."

"What do you mean?" asked Dany confused. 

"Use the candles, Daenerys Targaryen. Ask your husband," said the woman, disappearing below the docks, and Dany exchanged a look with the little Stark, before dismissing with a chuckle, saying, "Your locks, Arya. You have cut your hair. Your mother will be very angry."

“I don’t care. She never liked me. Sansa is her favorite. A real lady. Not like horseface.”

“That’s not true, Arya. You are a lady in your own way,” Dany reassured her, bending, hearing her scoff. 

“My mother and Sansa would disagree.”

“They love you, Arya. Never doubt that,” Dany said, brushing some locks, and the girl smiled. “Now come. I’m sure you are very angry. And you need a bath.” Making Arya giggle, as Ghost was following right behind.

Chapter Text

Harrenhal 

Ned was standing at the entrance of his tent, looking at his army that lay siege to Harrenhal.  Their spies informed them that Tywin Lannister left the castle to head to King’s Landing but since he didn't have the manpower to lay siege on the capital,  he opted for this cursed castle. Last time he was here, it was for a tourney.  A tourney that took so much from him. A father, a brother, and a sister. And now he lost his only brother to the wildness beyond the Wall.

"I woke up only to find out that I was no longer cradled in the heat of your embrace," Ned heard his wife say as she came behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You should have gone with Robb’s plan. Attack the Westerlands and lure Tywin Lannister west."

"The Old Lion wouldn't have fallen in that trap anyway. Not with the knowledge that we had his son and he had no leverage over us."

"And you want to take Harrenhal with this handful of men?"

"No. I intend to buy time for the Vale and the Reach to join us."

"I still don't like what you proposed," Cat said, heading back inside. "Margaery Tyrell would have been a very good match for our Robb."

"She would. In another life. But he is promised to someone else. He made an oath to marry the Frey Girl and oaths are as important as the alliances. Maybe even more."

"But why send him then? You know he is young, Ned. After what happened-”

“That was a mistake. A youthful mistake. Now he is different. He has grown. He had led men to war. Won battles. He is no longer the boy he was back in Winterfell.”

“I wish that would be the truth, Ned,” his wife sighed, sitting. “I will go to the Vale again, Ned. I will try to persuade my sister to join us. And persuade the Lords.”

“And you will not go alone,” came the Blackfish voice, and turning, Ned saw him standing at the entrance of the tent, which did not please Ned as those weren’t his instruction.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was clear that you need to be a Riverrun. To protect it from the Lannister should they push inland.”

“Riverrun is well protected. My niece's well-being isn’t,” the blackfish retorted with a foot forward, hands on the sword. “You know she needs me, Ned. If I won’t be there with her only the Gods know what Lysa may do to her.”

“Nonsense. She would never harm her family. Those are House Tully's words.”

“Indeed they are. But Lysa is different. And she will do everything she can to protect her son.”

Ned took a sip, and glanced at his wife, seeing her nod. “So be it. You will join her on the journey, Ser Brynden. Let's hope the Lords accepted my call and rode to the Bloody Gates with their armies.”

The Blackfish nodded, leaving, and Ned, sighing, turned his attention to his wife, “

“You too,” she smiled, resting her head against his, as he held her that way for a few moments, with closed eyes, before hearing Cat say, “Why didn’t you marry the Targaryen Princess to Robb?”

“Didn’t want for our son to have my sister’s fate because of a Targaryen,” replied Ned, holding her hand. “I expected that something like this may have happened, but I thought I thought them better than force themself on girls.”

“You did. It was a youthful mistake as you said,” Cat said, lifting his chin so that he would look into her eyes. “Now it’s better if I leave. Time is precious to us if you want to put your nephew on the throne."

“Cat. About him-”

“I won’t ask forgiveness for my behavior, Ned, as I was the one who was damaged the most by your actions. I behaved as I was taught to since the moment I was born, and consequently, I believe my actions were right."

"And do you gods teach you to hate a motherless child?"

"No. They teach me that bastards are evil and treacherous. A mistake in the natural course of things," she retorted. "And as for the girl you mentioned being your daughter with Ashara Dayne. I don't want to see her, I don't want to know her name, or even where she is now. She has been fathered before our marriage, and that I can accept because you didn't break the oaths as I believed so many times."

After those words, his wife kissed him, and then, putting on the fur coat, she left the tent. Ned followed her outside, seeing Cat get on the horse and after one last glance, she rode off with twenty men and the Blackfish. He had such a strange feeling at that moment. Almost as if his heart was telling him that it was a mistake. But there was no way of return now.

Myr

“The boy's skills grow with every day that passes. Soon he will become the Warrior himself between mortals," Ser Harry said while standing at the entrance of the tent and looking outside, while Jon was overseeing the battle plans. "Soon he will be ready to challenge the Usurper of the Seven Kingdoms and with him, we will be."

"Yes, he will, utterly we need to be cautious.  There hadn't been words from the Spider in weeks."

"Don't fret, Old Griff. Soon we will have, you only need to have patience," the Commander of the Golden Company said, patting his shoulder. "Besides that, ten thousand men can't win the Seven Kingdoms. The boy needs allies.  Strong allies with vast armies." 

"Aye," the old knight agreed, looking at the Kingdoms of Westeros.  There was only one who had the biggest army in Westeros. The reach. If they managed somehow to marry Margaery Tyrell to Aegon, the war will be easy.

"Commander," a man said entering.  "There is a man asking for an audience with you.

And Griff thought 'finally, ' only to be disappointed when the man who entered wasn't the spider but a Dornishman. A Martell.  Prince Oberyn to be precise.  

"Greetings commander Strickland.  I'm prince Oberyn Martell and I'm here on behalf of my brother the Prince of Dorne, Doran Martell."

"Prince Oberyn," Ser Harry greeted him back,  as he nodded to the squire to fill another goblet. "What does your brother want from us?"

"Words reached our ears that you are hiding a very special boy. A boy who seems to be my lost nephew." And Harry exchanged a look with him, as Jon asked, with hand on the dagger, "And where did you hear this?"

"From the Stars," the Prince retorted. "Hope you are quick with that dagger, old Man because you will be dead before even pulling it out." And so Griff took the handoff of his dagger, before hearing the man say. "May I see him, Commander?"

Griff looked at Strickland,  who nodded,  before leaving.  Outside the tent, Griff saw the lad train with the finest knights of the Company,  and when saw him disarm the two that were attacking him, Griff started to clap, "Well done, lad." 

"Tutor," the boy greeted him with a  smile while trying to take deep breaths. "I'm ready to face the Usurper and avenge my father."

Griff chuckled,  resting a hand on the lad's shoulder. "I'm sure you will.  But before that day comes, there is someone who wants to meet you."

"Who?"

"Prince Oberyn Martell.  Your uncle," Griff said,  and the boy's face lit up with joy, as he followed him back to the tent from where he came. 

The more he approached the more he could hear laughs coming from the inside, but at the entrance,  one of the girls who was there, blocking their way with her spear said, "I hope you use the sword better than the antic you showed down there. Because a Dornishman without those skills will never be a son of Dorne."

"If you want to see my skills then try me."

"Not now, lad," Griff said, urging him to walk. Upon entering, the laughs died, and the Prince’s gaze turned to the boy. Finishing the goblet, the man approached them with an unreadable expression. Once before him, Oberyn grabbed the boy’s hind and started to turn as if he was searching for something. A resemblance with his sister?

"Well, he does have their eyes, but his hairs and everything else aren't. And he doesn't even resemble a Dornishman."

"Once his hairs are washed,  they will become silver-gold."

"Maybe. Yet I can't spot any resemblance to my sister."

Those words were enough to light the boy on fire, who in a burst of anger, pushed his hand away, snapping, "How dare you put in doubt my heritage, Prince. I am Aegon son of Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen. And I'm  the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

The Dornish Prince did not jump on the provocation, despite having the reputation of being a hot head, as a sneer appeared on his face and turning, said to Strickland, "A word."

And the Commander nodded, as Griff urged the lad out.

Once they were alone, Oberyn said, "Dorne won't help you. The boy isn't who he says he is."

"The spider claims he is. he said that he managed to switch the children and smuggle Prince Aegon out of King’s Landing."

"Or maybe he only made those claims to fool you," retorted the Prince. "But as I said he isn't my sister's son. I don’t know who he is, Ser, but certainly he isn't kin of mine."

Jon sighed looking down not knowing what to think. What to believe. Did he got fooled all those years by the Spider and the Magister because too blinded by the love he had for his Prince and the desire to avenge him?

Returning his attention to the present, Griff was about to speak,  when he saw the commander get up and fill the goblets himself this time, said, "You say that he isn't your kin, your nephew.  But there is no need for everyone to know it."

"Harry-"

"We have ten thousand swords at my command,  ready to sail whenever I command, and a boy who thinks himself a Targaryen."

"But he is not. He is a false dragon.  A mummer dragon."

"Aye. He may be that, but history doesn't remember blood. It remembers names."

Oberyn seemed surprised by this turn of events and even glanced at him, before looking back at the commander. "Ten thousand men can't win the SevenKingdoms, let alone keep them."

"With the right marriage, yes. Peace will come in time, once the enemies are defeated,  and the lands secured in the hands of those who were loyal to him."

"I will inform the Prince of Dorne about this. But I hope you know, Ser, that my brother expects to see his daughter as queen."

"He will. The boy will have two wives. Like his namesake. A Martell and a Tyrell, finally uniting these two families."

"So be it. I will inform my brother about your plan and if he agrees I will send you some ships."

Once alone, griff approached the map, to look at what they had. There was only one Free City to have such a big fleet enough to board all the army and make them cross the Narrow Sea. 

"We are playing a dangerous game, Harry.  If someone finds out that we are putting an imposter on the Iron Throne-"

"I always doubted who he was," Harry said with one hand behind and the other holding the goblet. "But be it black or red a dragon is still a dragon. We break the contract and move to Volantis. They have the ships we need. There the captains, the sergeant, and all the knights will swear to the boy and we will sail under the banner of the Three headed dragons"

Griff nodded but nevertheless wasn't happy with this turn of events because it meant he failed his Prince again. 

Highgarden 

“In the light of the Seven I now proclaim you, Renly of House Baratheon, first of your name, King of the  Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long Live the King.”

And all Highgarden hailed him as king with her daughter joining soon after on the spalts. She was happy for finally fulfilling Margaery's dream, yet part of her was also sad because she was aware of where the king’s nature was and where his taste lay.

Suddenly,  she felt someone step behind her and whisper, "Envoys from House Stark are here, My lady."

"Who?"

"Robb Stark and his bastard brother Jon Snow."

Ollena never imagined she would see the Starks within these walls. What was certain was that she was completely oblivious to why they were there.

"Send them to the Godswood. I will meet them there." After all, they were Northmen. She was sure that the place where they would feel more safe is before their Old Gods. 

She exchanged one last look with her granddaughter before leaving the hall 

Oooo

Jon nervously stood inside this southern Godswood. It was one of the biggest he had seen and to his knowledge one of the oldest. It was a beautiful place,  but he didn’t trust the Tyrell. He read about them in Maester Luwin's books. Opportunistic lords just like the Lannister.  They stabbed the liege in the back and even during Robert’s rebellion,  their host stuck at Storm’s End with the excuse of besieging it.

"This isn't the right place to welcome the Envoys," Robb said, sitting on a rock.

“I disagree,” Jon replied, sitting on another rock. “I think it’s the perfect place where to welcome those who follow the Old Gods. I believe that in this way they want to show us that we can trust them. That we are not in danger."

"And that is the truth," came the voice of an elderly woman, and they both stood up seeing who without a doubt was the Queen of Thornes.”

“Lady Ollena,” his cousin greeted her with a bow. 

“Robb Stark. When I was informed of your presence at Highgarden, I thought it was a jest. It has been ages since a Stark has visited Highgardene to my knowledge.”

And I was pleasantly surprised by its beauty, I must say."

"Ah! Then the stories that travel about you are true, my lord. As handsome as he is kind," the woman replied, leaning on her cane, and Jon could notice a blush on Robb's cheeks. "But not only that. News has reached my ears of your victories. The Young Wolf who outsmarted the Old Lion and took prisoner Tywin Lannister's favorite son."

"You are too kind, my lady, but the stories are too exaggerated. My victories would be nothing without the bravery of my men,"

“Humble. I like that in a man," said the woman, earning a chuckle from Robb, before her gaze swept to him. "And you must be the famous stain on Eddard Stark's honour. Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell."

And Jon tensed at hearing that epithet now knowing the truth but tried not to betray any emotion. I have heard no great deeds of yours in this war."

Because the enemy keeps them hidden, not wanting word to get out that they are on the verge of ruin," his brother replied before Jon could give an answer. "To him, I owe my father's life and my sister Sansa's safety."

"So he managed to escape?" she asked surprised, looking towards Robb. 

"Yes. Thanks to my brother's skill and cleverness, he managed to sneak into the Red City, wound Joffrey Baratheon, and save the Lord of Winterfell along with his daughter."

"Impressive indeed," the woman said, glancing toward him. But tell me, Lord Robb. Bragging about your deeds is the only reason you are here, or is there another?"

“There is actually. The true reason why I am here is for an alliance,” Robb said, with a stern expression, and hand on his sword. “In exchange for the swords of the Reach, I offer you the chance to unite our Houses. The chance for your blood to rule both kingdoms. The North and the Reach. A union between your granddaughter Margaery and myself.”

A tempting proposal, but no longer possible," replied the woman. "My niece married King Renly Baratheon only a few days ago and soon will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not to mention the fact that it has already been once rejected when your father approached my nephew Loras on the matter."

“My lady-”

“Of course, not everything is lost. We can still unite our houses. You have two sisters-”

“Not yet flowered,” retorted Robb, tightening the grip on his sword, and Jon too didn’t like what she was proposing for Arya. 

“Of course, they are not. and I have no intention of demanding that he beds her before the right moment,” chuckled the woman. “But maybe an oath made before your Old Gods. That would appease me a lot.”

“We will think,” Jon said, earning a glare from his brother, before hearing the woman say, “Be our guest and enjoy the beauty of Highgarden until you come to a decision.”

At that moment, Jon saw a young girl approach them with a smile on her lips. She was tall but slender of body, with small breasts judging by the way her dress was falling down almost flat along her shapes, but still a very womanly figure. Her chestnut hairs were thick and falling down in waves of curls. Fair and beautiful but not as much as her beloved Dany, who was the fairest and most beautiful girl in this world.

“Grandmother? I saw you leave the coronation and the servants told me that you had come to Godswood."

“Yes, my dear. May I present you Robb Stark son of Eddard Stark, lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North,” the old woman introduced his brother, and Jon saw the girl give him a shy smile. 

“An honour to meet you, Lord Robb.”

His brother seemed lost at words for a moment almost as if her beauty enchanted him, and Jon’eyebrow rose in intrigue, before hearing Robb say while approaching and taking her hand, “The pleasure is mine, Lady Margaery,” laying a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “I must say that the stories that run about your beauty do not make you just, my lady."

"You flatter me, my lord," the girl replied, glancing down. "But I am sure there are others ladies far more beautiful than me." And Robb glanced at him, making Jon understand who he was thinking about at that moment. He sighed, looking down, wondering if or when he will ever forget her.

“You must be Lord Jon of Maghthool,” the girl said, looking at him with a sweet smile. “I heard many stories about you from the travelers that visited Highgarden, and I must say that it’s a honour to meet you.”

“You are too kind, my lady,” Jon bowed in gratitude, but her words put him on guard and Jon wondered if word had also reached her about Daenerys and the dragons.

“Grandmother. I came to inform you that Renly has the intention of leaving Highgarden in the marrow and visit every Lord’s castle that had pledged to his cause from here to the borders with the Stormlands.”

And Jon exchanged a look with his brother, who said, “May we join your retinue, my Lady? If the North and the Riverlands have to back his claim we need to see what kind of King he is.”

“Of course, my Lord. It will be our honour to welcome you, and show you the beauty of this land,” the girl replied, smiling. “I will inform the servants to make you a good meal and to get ready two chambers. You will need rest for the journey.”

To which, Robb said with a smile, “ Food and Rest are far from my mind in this moment, Lady Margaery. But I won't refuse a tour of Highgarden in your company.”

“Sadly that’s not possible. The queen and her king have duties to attend to,” Lady ollena said, stepping between the two. “But if you are so eager to jump on a tour around the castle, I can ask one of my ladies in waiting to accompany you. Or my grandson Loras.”

“No. That won’t be necessary,” Robb retorted finally looking at the Queen of thorns. “Come, brother. It’s better if we retire for the evening. My ladies.”

“My Lords.”

Once they were alone and out of anyone’s sight, Jon asked in a low voice, “What the hell are you doing brother?”

“Nothing. Just exchanging some talks with a sweet lady.”

“That didn’t seem nothing, Robb. You were flirting with her,” hissed Jon. “May I remind you that she is married, and you are betrothed to someone eles.”

“I don’t want to marry Frey’s girl,” Robb retorted. 

“Well, you have no choice. You made an oath, Robb,” said Jon, leaving his brother behind to head to the keep following the servant that was waiting for them.

Next day…

Outside the keep saw Renly Baratheon’s party already ready for the journey. It was made of lords, ladies, knights, and men-at-arms. His gaze searched the faces, for the man they were supposed to meet at Highgarden, but the only one upon whom his eyes wanted to settle was Margaery Tyrell.  She wasn’t there yet.

"Robb Stark," some called his name, and turning, Robb saw a man with a short beard and  dark hairs, upon whose head was resting a golden crown with antlers. “A honour to finally meet the famous son of Eddard Stark. The one the men call Young wolf and the enemy fears.”

“Renly.”

“King Renly,” the knight of Flowers said.

“There is no need for formalities, Ser Loras,” the man retorted glancing at the Tyrell. “After all, I think the boy who made Tywin Lannister shit himself can address me as an equal. Although, to be honest, I never expected to see you of all people at Highgarden."

"I'm here on behalf of my father."

"Ah yes. Lord Stark is a great man but he has already stated his choices as to whom he intends to back," the man retorted, and Jon exchanged a look with his brother. 

"I know. But I would ask you to give him a chance to change his mind, allowing me to see what kind of king you are," Robb replied, trying his hand at manipulation, aware that his brother was the true king.

"So be it. You may join me," the man replied, turning his steed and riding away, while Robb looked towards Jon, only for his gaze to shift to her. Margery Tyrell appeared on the steps, with a sweet smile on her lips and wearing a beautiful purple dress with a furcoat dripping down her shoulders. 

“Bring the Queen’s horse,” he heard the Master of the Horses say, as the girl stopped, greeting him. “Lord Robb.”

“Lady Margery. You will ride with us and not in a carriage?”

“Yes. I want to feel the chill of the weather kissing my skin and feel my hair fluttering in the wind."

Robb smiled, seeing the lady get on her horse, before joining them with his men and his brother, heading northeast from Highgarden.

A few days later…

Robb was standing by a fire, warming himself after the long journey. They were only a few days away from Bitterbrige where Renly Baratheon intends to hold a tourney. Of course, he had time to watch him as King, listen to his men, exchange chats with them, but at the same time planning a way to make him change his mind on the regard and draw him to Jon’s cause.  

However, the one who he had wanted to get to know better was Margaery Tyrell. During the journey he couldn’t exchange talks with the girl who was too busy with her duties as the so-called Queen.

Suddenly he saw her pass, and Robb immediately greeted her, “My lady. I wish you a good night. 

Thank you, Lord Robb. Likewise."

"It would be if only I could find my tent. With the camp moving every day I have a hard time finding mine since all of them look the same.”

“I sympathize with you," she replied with a chuckle. “It would be my pleasure. It took me weeks to learn my way around the camp. Twice I walked in on officers in stages of undress. And the moment I learn which tent is mine, we're on the move again.”

"Your tent?” asked Robb confused, for her not ‘our tent’. “Don't you and the king share the same tent?" and he saw the girl exchange a glance with her brother, who after throwing him a glare went inside the king's tent. So the rummours he heard were true about Renly and Loras Tyrell.

“The king is a very busy person, while I without quiet do not sleep at night?"

"Sleep?" asked Robb with a raised eyebrow, as the girl looked down, blushing, and so they began to walk. 

As they were walking, the lady asked, “And your brother? Did he find the tent?”

“I doubt he is even in there. Recently he wasn’t the same and loves going for a long walk deep in the night when the cool it’s at its peak.”

“I see.  And may I ask what is troubling him?"

"A girl," replied Robb. "His wife. They recently lost something very dear to them because of some very bad people. He blames himself for not being able to protect her, she blamed herself for her recklessness, and she left Winterfell as a consequence."

"I see. I am sorry for his loss," replied the woman, truly honestly, and he gave her a half smile before they resumed walking. “And do you have a lady waiting for you back in Winterfell?”

“I don’t.”

“I am sure you will find one soon. Maybe even from the Reach," the girl said, and Robb stopped for a moment open-mouthed. "Tyrell, Hightower, Redwyne. Though if I may be honest, my grandmother advised me to warn my ladies about the Young Wolf. She thinks you are dangerous while also charming."

"And what if I am?"

That seemed to stop the girl, who turned to him frowning. "What do you mean?"

"I hurt someone who has very dear to me. A girl. My actions were not very...honourable if I can put them like that," Robb sighed, looking down.

"Who?"

But he did not answer, seeing Jon standing at the entrance of their tent, before getting inside, shaking his head in disapproval.

It seems we found it," he said, and taking her hand he kissed Lady Margery's knuckles, "Thank you for walking me back to my tent, my lady, and for the small night talk."

“It was a pleasure,” she smiled, pulling back, as Robb left her there because he feared not being able to control himself if he stood there for one more moment. “Again brother?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Robb retorted, untying his sword, and laying under the furs he clutched it to his chest, closing his eyes.

Chapter Text

Robb stirred, as he felt warm hands running up and down his chest with nails scratching him, and when he opened his eyes, Robb saw the Queen kneeling between his parted legs, and smirking, before placing light kisses on his abdomen.

He tensed, knowing where she was going and his cock jolted under her before Lady Margaery giggled, taking him in her hands. Robb felt as if he was exploding because of the heat and pleasure that was building at the mere touch of her hand, but the moment she wrapped her parted lips around his shaft, he lost himself like the green boy he was.

Suddenly he felt himself being shaken and when he opened his eyes, Robb saw his brother. 

"The King asked us to join him for breakfast," Jon said, as he was tying his sword, and Robb sighed, feeling his cock tight in his breeches. He needed a release so badly, but he cannot do it here, so the only thing he can do is think of something that may quench his arousal. 

They joined Renly Baratheon and his lords in the king’s tent at Bitterbridge for breakfast even though some didn't like the presence of a bastard at the table, while he for almost all the time exchanged looks with the Queen. Or should he put it like that he was looking at her more than she did?

As  they were eating, Robb heard the Baratheon king say, "I would like to go on a hunt and I would like you to join me?”

"Me?"

"Yes," the man hummed against the goblet, and Robb exchanged a look with his brother,  who took a sip, before giving him an answer.

"It will be our greatest pleasure to join you on the hunt, King Renly."

"The invite isn't extended to bastards," came the voice of the arrogant Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell, to which Robb retorted with a higher voice than was supposed to be, "A bastard he may be but he has a blood far more noble and older than you could ever claim."

"How dare you!" The knight jumped to his feet, but the Baratheon king calmed, "Of course he can join us."

"Thank you for the invite, king Renly," Jon said, smiling, glancing between the two, “but I must decline. I do not wish to offend the highborn greenboys of the Reach.”

And Robb chuckled, seeing the King’s hand on the Knight of Flowers to calm him down, and say, “So be it. I will leave you in the company of my sweet and beautiful queen who is much kinder and more open-minded than her brother.” 

And Jon nodded, while Robb followed Renly and his kingsguard out of the tent.

Once he was left alone in the tent with the Queen, silence fell over them, and Jon felt a bit awkward to sit there only with her, especially considering how quickly rumor and lies can spread across the kingdoms because of them.

It appears that only the two of us are left, Lord Jon," the girl said, breaking the silence, and Jon nodded, taking a sip but avoiding her gaze. "So, to kill the time before their return, why don't you tell me something about yourself, my lord?"

"About me?" Chuckled Jon.  "There isn't much to say.  Eddard Stark is my father but as a bastard I have no claim to Winterfell.  So I choose my own path.  Got a castle, lands, and I try to do my duty towards the people that live under my roof."

"I admire that in a man," replied the girl, taking a sip of wine. "And what about love? Is your heart free or already held by someone?"

"I have a wife. The love of my life," stated Jon as the smile appeared on his lips recalling their first meeting. 

"How is she?"

"Beautiful as the sunshine of the dawn,  a heart so good and so pure that it is difficult to believe it belongs to this tough and cruel world. Her hairs are of a silver color almost ethereal,  and her smile so bright and lovely that could melt the Great Wall in the North itself.  And her eyes. Her eyes are like the dark color of the sea in the north.”

I can see that you love her very much,” the girl said, and Jon looked down, blushing while taking another sip of wine to give the blame on it, though it was far too late. “You don't need to feel embarrassed, my lord. Many maidens would kill to be loved as much as you love this lady.” receiving no reply from him but only a shy smile. “And do tell me, does such a lady have a name?"

“Naerys. Naerys Storm,” he said, taking a sip and hoping the lie held up. 

“Storm? Now everything is clear.”

While Jon didn’t reply, catching the meaning of her words and letting them pass. For now at least. Silence fell over them again for a few moments, until the girl started to talk again. 

“And your brother. Are the stories that run about him true?”

“Depending on what stories you are referring to. There are many.”

“There are wanderers who claim to have seen him ride a direwolf, yet I saw no direwolf with him. While others claimed to have seen him turn himself into a wolf and maul on his enemy’s dead bodies.”

“Lies.”

“So he is a deceiver?”

“No. He isn't. He has a direwolf named Grey Wind who fights beside him as do I and who is now with my wife,” finishing his goblet, Jon decided to quench this topic before it could develop into something they weren’t allowed to discuss. “My brother is betrothed to someone else, my lady.”

“Forgive me, but I don't think I understand.”

“I think you do, my lady. You are a very smart and clever girl.”

"You are overestimating me, my lord," the girl retorted,  and Jon sighed. 

"I see the way you look at him, the way you spend your free time with him, wanting to know my brother better. I would ask you to not pursue whatever feeling you may feel now."

"You make dangerous claims, Lord Snow. Your words imply that I cheated on the king. Which never happened.  Such slanders are punishable with death in the South."

"And a wife cuckolding her husband with disavowing and worse," retorted Jon.  "Forgive my words, but I only speak the truth. My intentions are not to hurt you or him, but to prevent a pain that will get too heavy to bear."

The silence fell over them and Jon took chances of it to get out, however, he stopped upon hearing the girl's low voice, barely a whisper, asking, "Is it true? Is it true what you are claiming? About your brother's feelings?"

"Aye. I'm one to lie. And I've already seen this kind of thing happen with my brother once."

"Then I will talk with him. I will clear the misunderstanding that has arisen between us," the girl said even though she didn’t show much confidence.

"Thank you," Jon said, smiling and leaving a very thoughtful queen Margaery Tyrell there.

They rode for an hour without taking any prey, but soon Robb understood that hunting wasn't the reason why they went out. So, halting his horse, Robb said, "I think we are far enough from the camp for you to state your thoughts King Renly because hunting isn’t the reason why we are here.”

“No. It isn’t,” the man said, leaning on his bow. “I wanted a place away from prying ears.”

“And will your Flower Knight keep such a meeting secret?"

“Ser Loras has my complete trust,” the Baratheon King replied, with a nod, and a smile on his lips, while Robb’s eyebrow rose. “You are here on behalf of your father to make me make peace with my brother and lay my crown at his feet, are you not?” And Robb nodded. “You understand that will never happen.”

“I do. But I still want to try for the sake of Westeros and all the lives that are going to be wasted in a useless war.”

“You really think that my brother will be a good King? I'll tell you. He will never be. Yes, he is a very good soldier, an excellent commander, and an average admiral, but since when are war-generals good kings?" 

"Maybe that's what Westeros needs now," Robb mumbled, looking down. 

"What do you mean?"

"That is something only my brother can describe," Robb replied, for he himself did not want to believe those stories.

"I will. But returning to the matter about my brother, he is not a beloved man, nor is he respected. Yes, he is feared because he is a man of his word, but so am I. The people love me, respect me and I have far more men than any other faction, including you."

"True. But if it's one thing this war with the South has taught me, it's that numbers mean nothing if the commanders are unfit to lead."

"Watch your words, Stark," Tyrell warned him, to which Robb said, "I speak only the truth."

“Do you think that my brother will crush me?”

“I don’t know. I never meet Stannis, but from what my father told me, he will do everything he can to take the throne. Because he sees it as his right.”

“You are just like your father. Honorable and a fool.”

“Aye. Honourable yes, but not a fool,” chuckled Robb, taking a step closer, and hearing the Knight of Flower draw out his sword. “If it wasn’t for me I wouldn't even have been her. My Lords and the River Lords wanted to make me King in the North and King of the Trident.”

“I see. And with what pretext?”

“Conquest of course, just like Robert.”

“My brother had Targaryen blood in him. just like me,” stated Renly. 

“Aegon had no relation to the Seven Kingdom. He ruled them by right of Conquest.”

“Yes. But Aegon was the one to build this wheel. Only Dragons can sit on it.”

“And are you a dragon?”

“I am. I have Targaryen blood in me, and have, more right to sit on that throne than anyone of you,” retorted the Baratheon, clearly starting to lose his patience, while Robb chuckled, but before the conversation could continue, a raider found them, and was calling for the King.”

“Your grace, your grace. Stannis is besieging Storm's End.”

“What?!” a shocked Renly demanded before jumping on the horse. “We ride in haste to Storm’s End with all the chivalry. And you Stark will come with us. You will see with your own eyes what kind of man my brother is.”

Robb nodded, jumping on his horse, and following Renly back to the camp to muster.

The Summer Sea…

The journey seemed so long and tough. The wind came and went making the sailing somewhat slow and tedious. The only entertaining thing was watching Arya train with Ser Jorah, watching her dragons fly, and Ghost fuses, and listening to the woman's stories about Qarth and other places of Essos. 

Suddenly, as she was resting on the edge of the ship, Dany saw mist in the far distance, and that put her on alter.

"What is that captain? A storm?"

"Valyria," came the woman's voice as she arrived on the dock, and Dany felt her skin shiver. So this was the place from where her family had come. She has never seen it, but always dreamed of doing so. “Every soul that sails this sea knows that the Doom still rules Valyria. The sea near it boils and smoke and the land is overrun with demons.”

"Demons?" chuckled Dany, though deep down she was fearful.

“You don’t believe that demons are there?”

“I believe only what my eyes can see, my lady. Dragons, direwolves and Wight Walkers were only stories difficult to believe until I saw them. Maybe when I see those demons then I will believe in their existence,” Dany replied, looking back at the islands as they were approaching more and more, spotting the points of some mountains.

“It is said that any sailor who so much as glimpsed the fiery mountains of Valyria rising above the waves would soon die a dreadful death,” the woman said, while Dany dismissed with a huff. 

“As long as my dragons are with me I fear nothing and no one.”

“Wise words already spoken by a fool centuries ago."

"Do you think me a fool?"

"No. I only said that a fool thought this, not that you are one."

"And who was that fool to tell me?"

“The dragonlord Aurion. After the doom, he declared himself Emperor of Valyria and led a host from Qohor toward Valyria. He had a dragon definitely bigger than yours, never to be seen again.”

She didn’t reply looking back to the island, only to see her dragons fly that way. 

“Morghul!” she called one of her dragons, but they didn’t seem to listen. “Rhaegal! Viserion!” Yet they didn't return. “Capitan! Turn the ship and get ready a boat.”

“Surely you don't mean to go there, Princess?" she heard Ser Jorah say. 

"That's exactly what I intend to do, Ser. And I would ask you to come with me."

"Princess-" but she shot him a look, rushing below the docks. Once in her cabin, Dany started to put on a light brigantine, tie the hairs behind and the Darksister,  but when she was about to leave, Dany saw Ashara waiting for her with clapped hands.

"If you are going to go there, let me at least help you against the shadows. I can write word-"

"No, thank you. I entrust you with Arya and Ghost. I don't want them to follow me on the island. And if I'm not back before nightfall, set sail from here. Go back to White Harbor." And Ashara nodded. 

Once out, Dany got on the boat with Ser Jorah and the man started rowing towards the shores. While Dany felt the excitement flow through her body, because this was the place from where her family came more than for centuries before.

"Are you afraid,  Ser Jorah?"

"Only a fool wouldn't be my lady," the Bear Knight replied, looking around while rowing. Once they reached the shores, past the smoke that was there, Dany looked around, and lowering the wet cloth from her mouth, called loudly for her dragons.

“Morghul! Rhaegal! Viserion!” but there was no sight of them. Dany kept deepening into the island never losing sight of the surroundings or of Ser Jorah.

The ruins were dark and gloomy but one still could see the greatness of this ancient empire, with tall walls and buildings, with columns carved in the shapes of the dragons, and the mountains of Valyria. 

On the ground Dany could spot armors and bones of men, and she heard Jorah say, “King Tommen’s host.”  and she looked at him questioningly. "Tommen, second of his name, King of the Rock. He was called the Lion King and with a mighty fleet, he sailed to Valyria only to be seen no more. Neither he nor the fleet returned."

“Where are the ships then?”

“On the bottom of the sea most likely,” the knight replied, bending down and picking a great sword. “Birthroar. This was the Valyrian sword that once belonged to House Lannister and that was thought to be lost with him.”

“Now it is ours,” she said, spotting the roaring lion on its pommel and the Valyrian words on the blade, ‘Ryptegon Hīghagon!’

In that moment, the cracking of a harrowing roar, and she immediately chased after it, feeling as if her heart was daring to burst out her chest. Her foot led her straight to a wide ruined plaza, finally spotting her children, surrounded by what looked like to be 

“Morgul!” receiving a roar back. Dany pulled out Darksister and charged towards the beast, immediately slicing two with the sharp blade, and drawing the attention of the remaining ones. Jorah was at her side too, taking a defending position, “We shouldn’t have come here, your grace.”

But Dany didn’t reply, feeling her heart hammer while looking at these…creatures that were hissing at them. They resembled her dragons but didn’t have wigs. They were also of different size, and that was something she didn’t like, because that meant that there were even bigger out there.

Suddenly Dany could hear indistinct voices whispering, and saw the beasts stop, shaking their heads and backing away while her dragons shook their heads, before rising into the sky and flying away, leaving her alone with Ser Jorah.

“Something is wrong,” the Knight of Bear Island said, and Dany agreed with him, but before they could run, Dany saw a hooded figure with a long dark torn robe appear. He was tall and thin with a lean build, while on his fingers Dany could spot long dark nails. “Stay back!” Jorah commanded, but the man didn’t do it. 

He kept approaching. “Kreni naejot ūndegon ao isse Valyria, Muña Zaldrīzoti. Īlen umbagon syt ao.”

“Who are you?” she growled back, pointing the sword. “What do you want?”

“Māzigon lēda nyke, tala hen Valyria.  Māzigon lēda nyke se kesan mazverdagon iā dāria hen ao.”

“My Lady,” Jorah whispered, grabbing her by the arm, wanting to drag her away, but Dany shrugged his hand down, wanting to see…to learn who this man was and why he was saying those words. Make her Queen.

The man lowered his hood, revealing long red locks reaching past his shoulders, while his eyes were of the same red color. His skin was pale, while when his mouth opened to speak again, she could see sharp teeth bare.

“Eman naenie brōzāt.  Naejot ao īlen gīmigon hae Azōr Ahaī.” (I have many names.  To you I was known as Azor Ahai.)

“Azor Ahai is dead,” she retorted, seeing Ser Jorah immediately charge at the man starting to fight him, but seem to be useless, as not even one slash touches him. The man was like a shadow. But a shadow who could fight back as he hit the knight in the breastplate making Jorah fly for a few steps.

“Ser Jorah!” Dany ran to his side, getting to her knees immediately. He lost consciousness. 

“Īlen morghe se pār sigligon.  Īlen ēdrure Se ao jiōragon bē nyke bē.” (I was dead and then reborn. I was sleeping and you awake me.)

“Stay back filthy creature!” Dany hissed, pointing Darksister, but the man only sneered. In that moment Morghul roared from the sky, and the man turned his back to look up. Dany knew it was her chance and stabbed the man in the back. 

The man let out a long, shrill scream of pain, arching his back and spreading his arms, while Dany shook the knight. "Wake up Ser Jorah!"

The knight opened his eyes, slowly, glancing left and right, swallowing, while she tried to help him up. 

“Come Ser. We need to hurry up while we still can.” And the knight picked Brightroar, while Dany saw the evil man down on his hands and knees, she ran to pull out her sword, and shouted loudly, “Dracarys!”

And her child streamed down a wave of fire upon the man. Once he was done, Dany shouted. “Ñellgūrogon arlī! Ryptēs! Rȳbās!”

WIth a now recovered Ser Jorah, they run back to the boat, seeing her dragons fly above, and one on it, they both start rowing back the way they came. 

“Faster Ser Jorah!” she said, not caring that her arms will hurt. Under the wooden boat, Dany could hear hits, and she feared that the evil creatures were in the water. “Take the oar, Ser.” Dany commanded while grabbing Darksister in time to stab the first creature that came from the water. Jorah picked up speed, rowing faster, while Dany fought back the beasts, seeing her dragons come in her help breathing onto the water. 

In the end, after a tireless fight, they managed to reach the ship, and once on it, Dany, said, panting, “Take us away from here, Capitan. Now!”

And the man obeyed, immediately giving the orders to the crew while Ashara Dayne came to check on her with a flask of water, “What happened?”

Dany took a few swigs, before pulling out her legs, “I don’t know. He said he was Azor Ahai, but that is impossible, isn’t it?”

“It is. Azor Ahai died a long time ago after the Long Night,” the woman replied. “Is he still there?”

“His ashes most likely. My dragons burned him.” And Dany heard their crying roars come at her immediately, laying their hands on her laps, the moment the woman moved away. “ Lykirī! Lykirī! Nyke gīmigon. Nyke gīmigon. Īlen zūgagon tolī." (Be Calm! Be Calm! I know. I know. I was scared too.)

Storm's End

It took them a few days of hard riding to reach Storm’s end, and once there, they met Stannis on a cliff with men at their back holding their banners.  Brothers they may be, but their banners were different. 

"Robb Stark, I had not thought to find you in the Stormlands," Addressed him the Lord of Dragonstone, with an unreadable and cold expression.

“I had not thought to be here, Lord Stannis, but your brother insisted."

"Can that truly be you?" Renly asked, to which the brother retorted, "Who else might it be?"

"When I saw your standard, I couldn't be sure. Whose banner is that?”

"My own."

The younger brother snorted, glancing down. "I suppose if we used the same one, the battle would be terribly confusing. Why is your stag on fire?"

"The king has taken for his sigil the fiery heart of the Lord of Light," a woman with red hairs and a dark look replied. She was very beautiful, a foreign beauty indeed.

"Ah, you must be this fire priestess we hear so much about," Renly said, before adding with sarcasm and jape, "Mmm, brother, now I understand why you found religion in your old age."

"Watch yourself, Renly."

"No, no, I'm relieved. I never really believed you were a fanatic. Charmless, rigid, a bore, yes, but not a godly man.

"You should kneel before your brother. He's the Lord's chosen, born amidst salt and smoke.

"Born amidst salt and smoke? Is he a ham?" And all those who were there burst out laughing. That did not seem to  Stannis who said, trying to keep at bay the anger, "That's twice I've warned you."

"It is strange to find you beside my brother, Stark. Your father is a supporter of my claim, whose integrity almost  cost him his head. And you sit beside this pretender and chastise me."

"Indeed my father voiced for you in the past but my father doesn't command the northern army and neither the Riverlands.  I do. And I only see a man too proud to yield and who had been jealous all his life because his brother didn't love him and chose someone else as a brother."

"The Iron Throne is mine by right. All those that deny that are my foes."

"The whole realm denies it," chuckled Renly. "From Dorne to the Wall. Old men deny it with their death rattle and unborn children deny it in their mother's wombs. No one wants you for their king. You never wanted any friends, brother. But a man without friends is a man without power."

"For the sake of the mother who bore us, I will give you this one night to reconsider. Strike your banners, come to me before dawn, and I will grant you your old seat in the Council. I'll even name you my heir until a son is born to me. Otherwise, I shall destroy you."

"You are like children squabbling for a chair that isn't even yours," Jon suddenly voices out and all the eyes turned on him.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"Jon Snow. Lord Stark's bastard," his brother lied, and Robb was surprised by his take.

"The Lord of Light smiles upon you, young warrior.  Soon he will demand your service against the great foe," the woman said,  and Robb could see the confusion  on his brother's face,  before hearing Stannis say, "bend the knee to me Jon Snow,  join my cause and when I will sit upon the Iron Throne I shall see that you have Winterfell and the North."

"Rush words, Lord Stannis," Robb immediately said, gripping the reins of his horse. 

"Loyal men need to know that they are rewarded while traitors should remember the cost of betrayal," the man countered,  before returning his attention to Renly. "Think carefully brother because I won't make this offer twice."

"Look across those fields, brother. Can you see all those banners?"

"You think a few bolts of cloth will make you king?"

"No. The men holding those bolts of cloth will make me king."

"We shall see, Renly. Come the dawn, we shall see."

"Look to your sins, Lord Renly. The night is dark and full of terrors," the Red Priestess said, sending shivers all over his body, before Stannis turned his horse and rode away.

"Would you believe I loved him once?" Renly said with comptent, spurs his mount and his party headed back to the camp.

"When the brothers will kill each other we will gather the crumbs to make a new loaf and march on King's Landing," Robb said, to which Jon returned, feeling a bit guilty, "Maybe I should have revealed myself."

"Stannis wouldn't have believed you. He would have seen you as another man who wants to steal his crown. No. The only way to take the throne is fight them," Robb said, nodding, and hitting his horse with the heels riding away. 

The Eyrie

Catelyn stopped on the same spot she did when she came for the first time to the Eyrie with Tyrion Lannister as her prisoner, but when she last time came, she was clueless to what kind of woman Lysa became despite the dwarf’s warning during the journey.

“I have such a bad feeling," Catelyn said, glancing at her uncle, before seeing riders coming from behind.  If her sight didn’t deceive her those were the banners of House Royce of Runestone and Ser Morton Waynwood.

"Lady Stark," Bronze Yohan greeted her with a bow from atop his horse.

"Lord Royce. I'm grateful for your presence."

"Ned is one of my greatest friends. When he calls we answer. My army is already on the march. May I ask if the rumors about Lord Arryn's death are true?"

"Only my sister knows," Catelyn said, and the old lord nodded as they made their way to the Eyrie. 

Upon their arrival, they learned that many of the Lords were already there but not their armies, and that they weren’t there for Ned but for her sister's hand since from what she understood, Lysa has decided to marry again. 

Catelyn didn't like that because she caught the true reason behind this second marriage of hers, and so she started to think of the best suitable words to approach. She scanned the hall for her face but she didn't seem to be there. However she spotted Lord Grafton, who was once a Targaryen loyalist but when she was ready to approach him, Catelyn heard her sister's voice, saying, "Sister. What are you doing here again? I thought that I was clear the first time. The Vale won’t join your son’s war.”

Lysa. Ned is no longer a prisoner of the Lannisters. They no longer have leverage over us, while we do. We took Jaime Lannister prisoner. Your son will be safe now. There is no need to keep the army of the Vale here."

But her sister burst out laughing. Catelyn exchanged a glance with her uncle, both being confused by her laughter, before looking back at her sister. "Lysa-"

"You say your husband is safe but have you ever thought about what the price was for his freedom?" asked Lysa, motioning to open the moon door. "Because of him he was arrested and sentenced to death for treason!"

"Who are you talking about?" asked Catelyn, even more confused by her words.

"You always rejected him, ignored him, mocked him, not to mention the favors you always asked him without giving anything in return. He loved you!"

"Who, Lysa? Who are you talking about?!" shouted Catelyn, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her, but her sister hissed at her a name that left Catelyn speechless. "Petyr! They arrested Petyr." 

Brynden watched in disbelief at his nieces' bickering, barely recognizing Lysa. Sure, he knew she was overprotective of her son because he was a weak boy, but this was pure madness. So he decided to address the crowd, saying, “My Lords. My Ladies. You know me. I have served for years as Knight of the Bloody Gate, always loyal to House Arryn, never betraying the oaths I took. But our most close friends are asking for our support to overthrow a boy who is become the new mad king. May I remind you what Aerys Targaryen did? Do you really want to live under Tywin Lannister's fear?"

They exchanged looks, and Brynden heard Bronze Yohan voice his decision, “House Royce has already sided with Eddard Stark. My armies are on the way.”

Brynden nodded in gratitude, only to see his nieces start to fight. “By the Seven! Let this madness end!” and rushed towards them, but not quick enough to prevent what happened next. And the crowd gasped. 

Storm's End

Robb stirred in his bed under the furs at feeling a chilling breeze kiss his skin, and so he tightened the warm fur around him. Suddenly warm lips rested on his, and Robb’s eyes shot open, seeing Margaery leaning over him, with closed eyes. 

It took him a few moments to realize what she was doing, before returning to his senses and rising up, “My lady. What are you doing?”

“Shhh,” she rested a finger on his lips, before leaning again wanting to kiss him, And Robb had no intention of wasting such an opportunity, colliding his lips into hers as one hand rested on the back of her neck and the other on her hip, pulling the girl more in him.

The kiss was rough, and their tongues fought for dominance. He could taste the wine upon her tongue, and Robb feared that she was her by mistake. He wanted to break, yet he didn't have the strength to do so. 

Margaery's hand started to move from his jaw down his body, and Robb fell her untie his breaches, and it was in that moment that he finally came to his senses, stopping the girl, and pulling away. 

“My lady. Your husband-”

But she silenced him again, getting up. While still panting, Margaery brought her hands to the dress, untying it, and letting it fall down to the ground. She was left bar to his sight, and Robb drank in her nakedness, feeling his cock painful hard in his tight pants. This was wrong. Very wrong. It could make him lose his head since he was in the enemy's camp.

Robb moved aside a bit and lifted the furs, seeing the girl swallow and accept the invitation, lying on her side, looking into his eyes. Robb held her gaze for a few moments before running his eyes down her body. Her tits were small, but he was sure they would fit perfectly in his hands. Her body was slender but quite curvy.

“May I?” he asked, wanting to touch her, and she nodded, and Robb moved his trembling hands to her body, brushing her skin up and down. She drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” she whispered back, resting her hand on his cheek and stroking him. 

Robb laid his own on hers, taking it and kissing, before moving it lower, however she was much bolder than a normal lady, taking the charge. Margaery snuggled closer, starting to kiss him, while her hand dipped into his night pants. 

A gasp escaped his lips when Robb felt her hand wrap around his member. 

“Mmmm…You are big,” she whispered against his lips, as her own turned in a smirk, before starting to stroke him slowly. Robb groaned in response, kissing her again, and starting to grope her thigh. Gods this was so wrong…yet so good.

Jon was sitting under a tree overlooking Storm’s End while a storm was approaching judging by the cool weather.  The heavy cloak, tight around him and the hair were left freely to the wind expecting to be shielded by the cool.

A battle will take place here in the marrow. Brother against brother and Jon wondered for a moment if in another life, where he was born a prince, he would have faced this same fate at the hands of his brother Aegon. 

"You cannot sleep?" Suddenly he heard the sweet voice of his wife ask startling him, and looking up, Jon saw her standing with intertwined hands before her belly and wearing a blue very light dress.

"Dany?" he jumped to his feet, trying to touch her, but she stopped him, flicking away. 

"It's useless for you to try. I'm not truly here as you can imagine." She looked at him with cold eyes, still hurt because he kept such important information hidden from her, but not enough to stop loving him and be honest with him. 

"Dany. I want to ask forgiveness for keeping that truth from you. I know I hurt you with my actions, but trust me when I say that hurting you is the last thing I want to do."

"I know. But it hurt me to know that the one I love the most in this world kept something so important from me," Dany said, trying to keep her emotions at bay, not wanting to break down again. "But I forgive you," Dany said and saw tears in his eyes. A sight that was breaking her heart over and over. Jon-"

"Dany-" and they both chuckled. "I'm sorry. You can start."

"No, no. It's nothing important. Please. You first."

"It's not an easy way to voice it…Gods…I even fear the outcome of this."

"Spit it out, Jon," she said, seeing him struggle and patch. 

"I'm your nephew," Jon quickly said and Dany almost lost the words.

"What?"

"I'm your nephew, Dany," Jon said, gazing straight at her, while silence fell over them. Dany blinked once, twice and only after she finally got her words. 

"Nephew? How?"

"Your brother Rhaegar and my aunt Lyanna….they met at Harrenhal…and…they…they ran…they," he stopped, struggling to find the words, while Dany couldn't believe her ears. Jon was Rhaegar’s son? Her blood.  Maybe that is the reason why she fell for him so easily.  Why she was so drawn by his character. Because he was a dragon just like her and only a dragon can truly match another dragon's fore. Dany tried to search for any resemblance, yet she could find no one. At least not to how Viserys described him. "Dany?"

"How long?"

"Not much. After King’s Landing, Lord Stark informed me that I wasn’t his son. That my mother was Lyanna and my father…that my father was-"

"Rhaegar," she finished swallowing, seeing Jon look down while squeezing his fist. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," he sighed, sitting back down under the tree. "Hurt. Betrayed. Confused."

"Confused? About me, isn't it?" And Jon nodded. "You think that you will no longer be able to love me. That because of our shared blood-"

"No. It's not that," he cut her off getting up again. "Actually this knowledge makes me love you even more than I already was. Because….."

"There is something else. I have the intention of pushing for the throne. Take back our heritage. But if you don't want me to do it-"

"No. You should do it. You should avenge our family. And there is no one more worthy than you to be king. And I know that you will become a great king. Greater than your ancestors.

"With you by my side-"

"No. Without me,” she corrected him, earning a puzzling expression from her husband. “Jon. Now that you are going to be king you must think of the future of our house. You must take to wife a woman who will bear you a son."

“You are my wife.”

“I know. But we have no future together. I can’t give you children.”

“I don’t care.”

“Jon…please-”

“No!” 

Jon couldn't believe his ears at what she was telling him, "If that's the prince of a throne and a House then I disown the Iron Throne and House Targaryen.

"You can't," she insisted, but Jon shook his head, only to notice a black shadow fly above the camp.

"What the hell is that?"

"What?" she asked, but he didn’t reply, running back to the camp, and following the floating shadow. It led him to the king’s tent, and Jon saw that the kingsguard wasn't there. A scream came from the inside, and Jon immediately pulled out his sword. 

Upon entering Jon saw Brienne of Tarth run to the king, while a shadow with Stannis' features disappeared. The woman fell to her knees, clutching his lifeless body to her armored chest, crying loudly. 

"The king is dead!" Someone from the entrance shouted and turning Jon saw a Kingsguard pull out their swords and charge at him. Jon engaged one of the men while the other one knocked Brienne. After a quote though fight, he managed to outmatch and kill the kingsguard, before turning his attention to the other one, seeing him already dead at the hands of the woman. 

"My lady," but she shrugged his hand off. At that moment someone else got in, shouting angrily, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

Chapter Text

"I didn't kill him!" Jon stated, deflecting his enemy's attacks, who was striking like a mad dog.

"YOU WILL DIE BASTARD!"

After a few attacks, Jon managed to disarm Loras Tyrell and push him away with a bump of shoulder, only to see his brother and Margaery Tyrell get it, with a shocked expressions on their face the moment they saw the Baratheon on the floor. 

"Renly!" The girl cried out, rushing to her husband's side.

"Good Gods. What have you done, brother?"

"Nothing. It wasn't me."

"LIAR!" screamed Loras panting and trying to get to him only to be pushed back by Robb "out of my way Stark or I will kill you too."

"It was a shadow that killed him,  Ser."

“LIAR!" Guards!" The knight of Flowers shouted, pulling out his dagger and blocking their way. "You won't leave this place alive!"

In that moment, Brienne of Tarth took matters in hand, charging at the boy and knocking him off with her strikes, making Loras lose consciousness. 

Jon heard the Queen gasp, and Robb said, "I'm sorry for this turn of events, Margaery. But we need to leave. I believe in my brother's innocence but Renly's banners won't. And neither your brother. If we stay we are dead."

The girl didn’t reply, still shocked by what happened, while Jon turned his attention to the woman who was kneeling before Renly’s lifeless body, clutching it in her lap. “My lady. We need to leave.”

“No. I cannot leave him,” she cried out.

“If you stay, you will die, my lady. They will kill you,” Jon insisted, kneeling too. “Come with us, and I promise that Stannis will pay for what he did. He will be my enemy as he is yours. I promise as King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.”

And she looked up at him with red, wet tearful eyes, “You promise?”

“Aye. I do. By the Old and the New Gods, I King Aegon Targaryen swear to you that vengeance will be served to Stannis Baratheon, and it will come by your hand.”

That seemed to finally convince the woman, who nodded, and after kissing Renly's forehead one last time she got up, and together they went outside, where a dozen of men were waiting for them.

They charged at them, with spears and swords, only to be knocked by Robb and their men who came in their help on the horses.

“Jon! Climb on!” And sheltering Longclow, he jumped on the horse with the woman behind him, and they all run for their lives, heading north.

They watched and mourned over Renly's lifeless body, all night, and when the morning lights came, they got informed that Stannis was coming to claim Storm’s End and the Banners of the Stormlands. Margaery only knew that they need to flee because this place wasn’t safe.

“Loras. We need to leave. We are no longer safe,” she said placing a hand on his shoulder, but the boy shrugged it away, “No! I will avenge him!”

“You won’t be able to avenge him if you are dead, Loras. We need to go back to the Reach. Please, Loras,” she begged her brother.

Loras looked at her, before clenching his hands in a fist, and say with eyes still upon Renly, say, “We will retreat to Bitterbrige. And wait for grandmother and father to join us.”

King’s Landing

News reached them from the Stormlands that Renly Baratheon was dead, slain by Jon Snow, while others claimed it was Stannis with blood magic. It didn't matter to him. What mattered was that an enemy was off and only two were left. Nothing changed the plans and the setup to ensure the future of his House and blood in Westeros.

As he was writing the letter for Tyrell, Tywin saw his daughter enter with a smug on her face. She must have learned the news too.

"Joffrey is getting better but still a long way till the wound will heal."

"And whose fault is that?" retorted Tywin, putting the hand’s sigil upon it, and setting aside the letter, seeing his daughter glared, "You heard about the recent news?"

"I did. And I have all the intention of winning the Tyrells support for us by betrothing Joffrey to Lady Margaery."

"Yes. I agree. There's no better match than Margaery Tyrell,” came his daughter’s consent, and to which, Tywin said, blowing over the seal, "And he won't be the only one to marry. You will do that too." 

"What?"

"I've already considered some choices, of course, but one I favours above the others. There is a Braavosi Sea Lord to entice the Iron Bank, then there is Doran Martell who gives us the chance to secure the South and the Narrow Sea. And, of course, last but not least important, Wiĺas Tyrell. Yes. He is younger than you, and he is a cripple, but he is unmarried and one day will be the Lord of Highgarden."

"No. I won't do it. I will marry no one of them."

"Yes, you will. You're still fertile. You need to marry again and breed,” Tywin retorted, ignoring his daughter’s complaint, and keeping to write his letters, but this time no longer for the Tyrell, but concerning his other grandchildren and of course his sons. Great Lords or minor. He will take all of them in consideration.

"I am Queen Regent, not some broodmare!”

"You're my daughter! You will do as I command and you will marry Willas Tyrell and put an end to the disgusting rumors about you once and for all.” This time it was he who was enraged, especially 

"Father, don't make me do it again, please," his daughter begged, but Tywin will have none of her childish behavior,  slamming his fist on the table to silence her.

"Not another word. You've disgraced the Lannister name for far too long with your behavior and challenges. Now out of my sight. I need to make up for what you and your son have destroyed the work of a lifetime."

She did, getting up and storming out of the room, as Tywin sighed, leaning back. Their behavior will lead him to an early grave and the glory of his house destroyed if he doesn’t step and take hold of their childish tantrum. 

A few days later…

Bitterbrige

Their grandmother joined them at Bitterbrige with their father and Garlan, grieving the loss of Renly, their -king, and the wasted opportunity. However, it was Loras the one grieving the most.

“Pitty that the man died. He was a good choice as King. I liked him but now we need to  think about what comes next.” And Loras hit the cup with wine from the table, however, their grandmother, keep talking. “In the eyes of Westeros, we have exposed ourselves as rebels, supporters of Renly Baratheon, a usurper in the eyes of many. Not that the small folks care who sits on the Iron throne, as long as they have food in their bellies. But Joffrey's supporters yes." 

She stopped to take a breath, before pulling out a scroll from her sleeve. “This came in the marrow, before our arrival. It is an offer of marriage. Between you and Joffrey and a union between Willas and Cersei. The Old Lion wishes to unite our Houses by making you a Queen Consort and of course his daughter Cersei the Lady consort of Highgarden."

"That bastard is bloody clever," Garlan pointed, taking a sip.

"Clever, cold, and cruel. Only a fool would underestimate him," said the Queen of Thorns.

"So, Joffrey is still alive?" asked Margaery instead, and her grandmother nodded. "He is. Or perhaps it's just a lie Tywin Lannister wants to hide behind. But he is not the only one who has sent us an offer. Stannis-"

And Loras threw the chair away upon hearing the name storming away, followed by Garlan, who was calling after him.

He will overcome this,” her grandmother said. “As I was saying, a marriage between you and Stannis. He is ready to put aside Selyse, and marry you should we accept.”

“I doubt the honorable Stannis Baratheon would do such a thing, grandmother,” Margaery said, remembering all the stories Renly told her about his brother. Cold he may be but he was one who took oaths seriously, and those were oaths before the Gods. “But whatever you will decide, grandmother, I will agree.” 

“I know you will do, my dear. but I also know who your heart desires. Robb Stark is a charming boy, and I saw you impress him. But I also saw that he impressed you. He would be a great match in different times. Young, handsome, coming from an old and important lineage, with a great land to rule. But he lacks one thing."

"A crown."

"Yes. Stannis and Joffrey are both kings. Or at least one is while the other is a mere possibility," her grandmother said, sighing. "Should Robb Stark push for the throne, know that we would support him without dwell because he would already unite three Kingdoms under his rule. But Ned Stark would never do that. He is too honorable to make such a step and of course, lost too much for the southern's plot."

"I know," Margaery said, looking down, and trying to hide the disappointment she was feeling. Everyone was aware of how Ned Stark was the first to set foot in the Red Keep, and how the Kingslayer offered him the throne only for the Wolf to refuse. So, with a low voice, Margaery mumbled between her lips, “I would much rather marry a boy who is close to my age than a man who is twice mine and whose hands are stained with the kinslaying’s act.

“Then I shall write to Lord Tywin that we accept his offer,” her father finally spoke, as he got up, and left the room with a happy smug on his face.

Now that they were alone, however, Margaery decided to reveal to her grandmother that deep secret she was harboring since that night. 

“I can see that something is troubling you, Margaery. What is it?”

“Robb Stark. The night when Renly died, I…I was with him,” she quickly said, hearing her grandmother gasp. “I know, I know. It was wrong…and reckless, but I was also confused. I was experiencing feelings that I never felt before for any man.”

“Did he take-”

“No. We got interrupted by the shouts before that could happen. But we almost did it.” She stopped to calm her racing heart and felt how her cheek was burning. “I was naked in his bed…we were touching each other…and…and kissing. Half of me knew I shouldn’t do it, but the other wanted for Robb Stark to make me his.”

Her grandmother did not reply, and Margaery was afraid to look at her, before finally hearing her say, “Well, this change a lot, my dear. You will have to settle your heart on one path, with the knowledge that you can’t have both. It’s either Robb Stark and not the queen’s crown, or Joffrey and the Queen’s title.”

Margaery chuckled, but it was a half smile. “If I choose Robb, father won’t like it.”

“No. He won’t. But it isn’t his decision to take,” The Queen of Thornes said. “But I want you to think carefully on this because we are surrounded by enemies.”

With those words, her grandmother left, and Margaery sighed, getting up and with crossed arms approaching the window that was looking North. Riverlands was where he was heading in haste, but where he will go then? North and back to Winterfell? Or he will go south, to King’s Landing where their paths may cross again, but this time as enemies?

Qarth

Qarth. Queen of the cities. It was claimed to be the birthplace of civilization, while others like the Maesters were skeptical about such things.  It may be true or it may not, but that doesn’t change the fact that what she was seeing was the most beautiful city in the world. To her knowledge at least. 

The port of Qarth was one of the biggest ports she has ever seen. Bigger than Braavos and even bigger than White Harbour. 

“Inside those walls, you will be alone, Daenerys,” the woman said, stepping next to her. “I fulfilled my task, but I’m tied to their will until the House will fall. I won’t be able to help you and you won’t be able to use the candles. Good luck.”

“Wait-” but the woman was already gone, and Dany felt the ship stop.

The moment they got down from the ship, and were walking on the docks, Dany saw a party of armed soldiers waiting for her with a few men that seem to be merchants. Rich merchants, judging by the clothes they were wearing.

"Welcome to Qarth, Mother of Dragons. Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or ever will be," one of them greeted her. He was tall, bald, and with pale skin, while his lips were purple. A warlock if she remembered Ashara’s words about their look. 

Then another one added, "It is the center of the world, the gate between north and south, the bridge between east and west, ancient beyond memory of man and so magnificent that Saathos the Wise put out his eyes after gazing upon Qarth for the first time, because he knew that all he saw thereafter should look squalid and ugly by comparison." He was tall and stout, with dark skin and short black hair.

" I am Pyat Pree, the great warlock,” the former introduces himself, looking her straight in the eyes, confirming her suspicions. 

"I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos of the Thirteen, a merchant prince of Qarth," the other man said, with a bow and a hand on the heart, while showing the ones that were behind him. Thirteen indeed they were. I welcome you to my humble palace if your intention is to stay in Qarth."

"I thank you, Xaro Don Daxos," Dany thanked, with a bow of head, as Arya and Ghost came to her side, making the soldiers immediately their spears. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you,” She reassured them while scratching his head. “But I can’t speak for my dragons as their nature is wilder and more dangerous than the direwolf. If you want to bring me big cages then you can rest easy.”

They nodded, and one of the merchant Princes sent some men to bring them as Dany looked around with intertwined hands before her belly.

"If you see here anything that you would desire, O most beautiful of women, you have only to speak and it is yours," Xaro said, as they were walking through the streets of the city, with Arya tucking and her elbow, pointing right and left, and Ghost drawing all the attention.

"Qarth itself is hers, she has no need of baubles," blue-lipped Pyat Pree sang out from her other side. "It shall be as I promised, Mother of Dragons. Come with me to the House of the Undying, and you shall drink of truth and wisdom."

"Why should she need your Palace of Dust, when I can give her sunlight and sweet water and silks to sleep in?" Xaro said to the warlock. "The Thirteen shall set a crown of black jade and fire opals upon her lovely head."

A giggle escape her, at the bickering of those two men, but she never lost the reason of why she was here. It was to avenge her child and quench the threat the warlocks posed toward her and Jon.

"Then why do men lower their voices when they speak of the warlocks of Qarth? All across the east, their power and wisdom are revered."

"Once they were mighty," Xaro agreed, "but now they are as ludicrous as those feeble old soldiers who boast of their prowess long after strength and skill have left them. They read their crumbling scrolls, drink shade-of-the-evening until their lips turn blue, and hint of dread powers, but they are hollow husks compared to those who went before. Pyat Pree's gifts will turn to dust in your hands, I warn you." 

“I don’t like them,” mumbled Arya, and Dany glanced at Ser Jorah, who only nodded.

When night came, Dany stood on the balcony of her chambers overlooking the night-still joyful city of Qarth, with the merchants still up, and heard Arya say, “I don’t like this place. 

“I miss the North, Dany. Winterfell, my brothers. My parents,” the little girl said, sitting up on the stone rail, while Dany placed a hand on her foot to make sure to catch her should Arya fall.

“I miss them too. If you want I can ask Ser Jorah to take you back.”

“No,” Arya shook her head. “I don’t want to leave you alone. You are part of our pack. Father always said, "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives"." 

And a happy chuckle escaped her as Dany hugged tightly the little girl like a sister, hearing her complain. Then pulling away, Dany said, come. Let’s join the feast.”

“And what about the dragons?”

“They will be all right.”

Wearing the dress gifted her by Xaro, Dany joined everyone in the garden, where there was a multitude of people, from all parts of the known world as she could tell, and their host immediately came up to greet her after leaving one of the merchants Princes.

"Welcome, Mother of Dragons. Come, come. I want you to meet someone. After all, if it is the crown you seek, there is no better ally than them. But I must advise you to be wary of them, as they were not good people," said Xaro, leading her away from Jorah and Arya, and towards a man who looked very much like a sailor. Dany did not comment at his remark, because it was easier to lure the enemy in her trap by playing dumbly.

When she came face to face, Dany finally saw him. He was tall and old, with long dark purple robe embroidered with gold, and a black hat with the same embroidery on his head. Had a thick, long, red beard and hair of the same colour and that were long. 

“This is the old Redbeard one of many elderly pirates of the Brotherhood.”

“Dragon Princess,” the man greeted her, without courtesies, and taking a sip. “I heard you want ships. Our ships.” And Dany looked at Xaro confused. “Don’t look at him, princess. He doesn’t have them. If you want them, then you will have to come to the Brotherhood headquarter to discuss the terms.”

“I will.”

“Good. I will wait there," said the man, finishing his goblet, and leaving. 

"Pirates. They know no manners. I warned you, Princess."

"But I didn't ask you to call for them. I only expressed my desire to take back the throne that belonged once to my House."

"I know. But they have more than eight hundred ships. Enough to take away a huge army."

"And with what gold should I pay, my lord?" Dany asked chuckling, not that she needed it because Jon had the army he needed.

"This," he showed with his hands, and Dany realized that all this was a gift for her. Or maybe it was a way to buy her dragons? Time would tell, but she didn't have much of it to waste.

Harhennal

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Ned, squeezing his fist and feeling his body tremble in anger, while guilty weighed on his shoulders because it was his fault.

“I know, Ned. I myself couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it happen. She lost her wist.”

“What I’m going to say to the girls? To my sons?”

“They will understand,” The man said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I sent her there!” roared Ned, turning the table upside down panting, and sitting on the chair. However, before he could grief further, they got interrupted by a guard who came to inform them about Robb’s return, and Ned exchanged a look with the Blackfish, swallowing, before seeing the boys enter with gloomy long faces, and behind Jon, there was a tall woman cradled in a dark bronze armour.

“Robb. Jon. Welcome back,” Ned greeted the boys. “And, forgive me, my lady, but I don’t think I know you.”

“Brienne of Tarth. And I’m not a lady,” the woman replied, making Ned smile, because it was something Arya would say, and Ned knew if his daughter would have been here she would have liked the woman. Tarth. She was the last living child of Selwyn Tarth.

“Renly is dead, father,” came Robb’s voice, and Ned’s mouth fell open, shocked by his news. But before he could ask how it happened, Jon answered in advance, “Stannis killed him. With dark magic. A shadow with his shape.”

“A shadow?”

“Aye. And I promised Brienne that we will avenge him. That she will take Stannis's life,” Jon said, taking a step closer. “And I intend to keep that oath, Lord Stark, no matter what you will say trying to convince me otherwise.”

“I won’t. But you must admit that this all sounds nonsensical, Jon. A shadow cannot kill a man.”

“I  know that what I saw was true, Lord Stark. And I will keep my oath.”

“Well. An oath is an oath. If you made it then you shall keep it,” Ned, said, before addressing the woman. “It is better if we start making the plans. But before that happens, Lady Brienne, can you give us a moment?”

The woman nodded leaving, and Ned moved towards the window, brushing a hand over the face. “I have grieving news to share with you, Robb.”

“Shall I leave, Lord Stark?”

“No. Stay. I want to know what of the Tyrells.”

“Ser Loras thinks I killed Renly,” said Jon, and Ned saw his son lower his gaze and he wondered what happened during this journey. “Most likely they will join the Lannister now, and that means, we are lost. Joffrey has the numbers, and the wealth, while we don’t.”

“We need the princess Jon,” said Ned, turning. “We need her dragons if we want to win. I know they are still small and not ready to be ridden, but their presence will be enough to make some Lords change sides. Even Tyrell.”

“She left,” mumbled his nephew.

“What? Left? Where?”

“Don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulder, and Ned could see how sad he was. “Dany said she was sailing to Essos, and Arya left with her-”

“What?! And she let her come!” roared the quiet wolf that was inside him, while turning his back at them, and breathing heavily. He was so angry with them in that moment, and all this only added to that weight upon his heart. If something happened to his daughter…No, no, he doesn’t need to think of that. He needed to think of what to do with this.

“Father? You said you have grieving news to share,” Ned heard his son say, as he was scratching his beard and patching back and forth. “Father?”

“Nothing will happen with Arya, Lord Stark,” said Jon instead. “Dany will take care of her. The dragons are with them and so is Ser Jorah.”

But Ned ignored his nephew’s words, addressing his son instead. “It concerns your mother. Before I took Harhenhal, I sent her to the Eyrie. To get the Vale’s support. There something… something happened, and she died.”

“Died?” Robb’s gasping words came, as his eyes become big like the moon.

“Yes,” Ned nodded, swallowing. “A fight between her and Lysa because of a man who brought nothing to House Stark, but pain and they both fell from the moon door.”

Robb’s mouth opened and closed a few times, as Ned took a step close and closer, until he was at reach hand, and placing one on his shoulder, Ned said, “I’m sorry Robb.” but his son shrugged the hand down, leaving the room in tears. “Robb!” he called after him, but his son didn’t stop. 

“What of the Vale’s army? Are they with us even if their Lady is dead?”

“Yes. They are on the way. And they soon will have a new Lord. Robin Arryn isn’t an Arryn and so Harrold Hardyng will become Lord of the Vale.”

“What is the price for their help?”

“We will find out soon. What is important is that we have the numbers,” Ned said, moving to another table with the wine. Filling two goblets, Ned returned to his nephew, saying, “Here at Harhenal we have twenty thousand men, while five thousand are waiting at the crossroad with the Vale.” Stopping to take some breath, and a swig, Ned continued, “Tywin Lannister retreated back to King’s Landing with thirty thousand men, and that is a force enough to fight back all our armies.”

“And with the Tyrell’s support, they will crush us,” Jon voiced the words that he was about to say.

“Yes. That’s why I wanted the Princess to be here. Because the threat of the dragons would have been enough to scare those who are inside and take the  without casualties.”

“What if I challenge Joffrey for the throne? Will he fight as a king or hide under his mother’s skirt?” asked Jon but Ned could feel the sarcasm behind it. “Then it’s better if we leave before the Tyrell or any other army from the Westerlands comes. We are close.”

“No, Jon. It’s better if we wait.”

“Wait?” chuckled Jon. “Is this the whole reason of why we are here?”

“We will be outnumbered, Jon. Yes. We will be the ones to siege them, but they could come out in bulk, outflank us and crush our army against the Red Walls. We need to be smarter than them. You told me that Stannis killed Renly. Now, without doubt, the Storm Lords will be on his side. That means he is on his way to King’s Landing. It will be easier to deal with the enemy once he is weakened.”

“Then we wait,” retorted Jon not very pleased by this, leaving the room, as Ned sighed. For sure the reason of why he wanted to end this quickly was because he wanted to go in search of the princess. But Ned could not allow this to happen as he was the man behind whom they rallied.

The moment he left Lord Stark, Jon went in his co…no. In his brother’s search. Because he was still his brother no matter the truth. And he needed him. He needed a shoulder upon which to cry.

He was informed by the men that Robb run to the Godswood and it was there where he went, but the place was so big. Jon wandered this forest for so long, almost losing himself, before finally finding Robb crying under the Heart Tree with a hand on the bark. And he hesitated to approach for a moment

However, Robb’s grief wasn’t the only reason why he was hesitating at approaching it. According to his uncle's stories, it was here where his parents met for the first time when the Crown Prince caught Lyanna Stark as she was getting rid of the Knight of the Laughing Tree's armour. 

Taking a deep breath, Jon leaned in, saying, "I know how you feel, brother."

And Robb immediately turned to him, with red, tear-filled eyes. 

“I could tell you that the pain will pass in time, but it will be a lie. That pain will never fade away. For me, it didn't. Even if I have never met Lyanna."

Robb dropped on the ground, with elbows resting on his knees, and fingers dug into his locks. He sniffed a few times, releasing a few sobs in between, and Jon let him do it, before speaking again.

“I bet you are happy now,” mumbled his brother between sniffs and in a rough voice. “she is dead now. Just like how you always wished.”

Jon was taken aback by his words, but he knew it wasn’t his brother who voiced them, but the pain that was inside him, and he went along.

That I never liked her is no secret, nor that she did not like me. Both of us were behaving because of a lie that shouldn't have been there. But it saddens me that she is dead. She didn't deserve it. Lady Stark loved you, Robb. She loved her children, and I admire that about her. I would say that was her greatest quality." He stopped, sighing, and fiddling with his fingers. "She wouldn't want to see you like this. She would want to see you move on and be happy. And cherish the good memories of her. You're lucky to at least have them, I don't have any of my mother’s because she died giving me birth."

But Robb was in silence this time, hugging his knees, while Jon didn’t know what to say more, fearing that whatever may come out won’t be good. So he sat there with him, and waited and waited for his brother to release the pain, and the anger that he was feeling at that moment, while at the same time thinking about Dany, who was just like them. A motherless child.

Chapter Text

Finding the Company was a hard task. When they left the northern shores they sailed to Volantis because the cities from Slaver Bay were not welcome for them. And from there they followed the news about the Company, finding it camped a few miles from Myr, because there were rumors of Tyrosh and Lys being on the verge of war, and Asher knew that Myr will get in soon after.

The moment they got down from the horses, Asher asked to be brought before the Commander of the Company. And so they were lead them, while all the way Asher saw some of the men look at them. 

Once inside the tent, the men introduced them. “Asher Forester and Beshka, Commander.” Then addressing them, the man pointed the hands at his two commanders. “The Twins Commander Thorkwin and Thorkilt Snow.”

“Asher Forester,” spoke one of them rising from the table with a goblet in hand. He had long hair tied in a bun. He was tall and bulky, very intimidating, just like the other one, but this one seems to be cocky. “We heard that the burning legion wants your head.”

“Aye. Many want me dead because I saved her,” Asher retorted glancing at Beshka, and hearing a chuckle from the men, before getting to business. “I came to hire you in Lord Jon Snow’s name.” 

“A northern bastard?” asked the same man, and Asher nodded. 

“How high is the price?”

“Since you come from Westeros, and we heard what kind of wars and what kind of enemies are there, the price is 300 golden dragons for each commander per day since day one,” the man that was sitting said. “For the captains, the quartermaster, and the healers 200 golden dragons. For serjeant, drummers and pipers 30. And for all the other soul 50."

“You are asking for a substantial outlay.”

"Supply and Demand, my friend,” the first man retorted. “Lys and Tyrosh are hiring everyone. As you can see, the Free Cities are on the brink of war. They will compete to hire our services. If your lord wants the Company of the Rose to pay our worth."

“I need some time to think.”

“Do it. But hurry up. The days are numbered,” the smarter brother said, and Asher nodded, as they left the tent. 

Once outside, Beshka said, “Well, if you don’t hire them then we made a useless journey,”

“Jon snow doesn’t have all this money.”

“How do you know?”

“We will leave the camp and go in the search of the Wolf Pack.”

Tyrosh

The Wolf Pack was camped outside the city, as expected since it was known that the cities of Essos when hiring sellswords they never let them live inside the walls. But of course, their numbers weren’t as high as the Company of the Roses. He could see five hundred men at best.

“And if those will be expensive too, what are you going to do?”

“I will hire them all anyway. Jon said at any cost. That means he has the money to hire them.”

“In the city market, they met men belonging to the company and asked to be taken to their commander, to which they agreed, of course thinking that they wanted to join them. Once they reached the camp, they were brought before the man in charge and heard how he laid out a battle plan for the men, but stopped when he noticed them.

"Commander Hallis. There is a man who wants to talk with you," the man that accompanied them said, and Asher finally got the chance to see this famous Commander of whom he heard so many stories tell.

He was younger than the Twins from the Company of the Roses and less bulk. Shorter hair, and curled, with a short beard. He kind of showed more highborn appearance than the Twins, but nevertheless, he was a sellsword.

“Hallis Hornwood,” the man introduced himself, sitting on the table with one leg. 

“Asher Forester. I’m here to hire you in the name of Lord Jon of Maghtol.”

“Sorry, we are already hired,” the man retorted filling himself a cup of wine. Taking a sip, the man said, “I’ve never heard of Maghtol, and I know all the places of the North.”

“What makes you think I come from the North?”

“Forester is a House from the North, a vassal of the Glovers. I can’t see you serving others than a Northern Lord,” the man replied, taking another sip. He was clever. “So do tell me. Where is this Lord living,” the man said, nodding at one of his men who pulled out a map of Westeros.

Asher took a step and pointed at the mountains from the western coast of the North right in the side of the Gift. “Here. He is Lord Stark’s Bastard.”

“And what is the reason why this bastard wants our services? Does he want to take Winterfell?"

"No. He wants to fight the Wildings," Asher said. "He has been assigned to assist the Night's Watch, and he needs men."

But the man did not answer this time, taking another sip. "I want Hornwood and all the surrounding lands, without paying taxes to the Lord of Winterfell of course."

"And maybe even become Lord Paramount of the North," Asher added sarcastically. "What you will get is no more than the price we will bargain for your services."

"So be it. Once the war for the Disputed Land is over, your Lord may hire us."

"Why not now?"

"The Wolf Pack does not break a contract, Asher Forester. It is worth the honour of the Company," the man dismissed them, getting up, but Asher insisted, offering the same price the Twins demanded.

“Lord Jon is ready to pay 300 golden dragons per day since day one. 100 for your Capitans and the healers. So for all the other swords."

"Tempting proposal, but not enough to tarnish our honor and reputation, Asher Forester," replied the man looking at the map of the disputed land, to which Asher said, "But obtaining the Hornwood without paying tribute won't stain your honor, Commander Hallis?"

The man only chuckled, but never looked at him, let alone answer his question, but Asher had a feeling that he got him this time.

Qarth

Sleeping in this city where she knew an enemy was waiting for her wasn’t an easy task. And thanks to the Gods because they may have influenced her dreams with bad visions. Arya and Dorhea were sleeping in other rooms but close to her and Nymeria was with the Stark girl even though Dany would have felt much better if she slept with her. 

From the floor, Dany could hear Ghost grunt while laying on the floor next to her bed ready to protect her if anyone should get in with the thought of harming her. Dany wondered if Jon was feeling him. Arya said she did with Nymeria. But maybe it was because her direwolf was close.

Her dragons, on the other hand, were in another place, bigger as they themselves were bigger than the usual. They grow so much since Valyria and Dany wondered if that place has done something to them. Maybe ancient magic? Or maybe it was that being who called himself the former Azor Ahai? Dany didn’t believe him. No man lives forever.

Getting down from the bed Dany saw Ghost look up at her as she moved towards the balcony to take a look outside. She could hear clashes of swords and grunts and words. But above all Dany recognized the voice. It was Arya. And when she looked outside the balcony, Dany saw she was training with Ser Jorah in the square of the garden right near the fountain. Small quarters it seems Dany smiled.

"My lady," she heard Dorhea greet her, as Dany turned, seeing the girl holding a dress, but she shook her head. 

"That's not appropriate for what  we will do today."

"Are you going to visit the House of Undying?" And Dany nodded because she no longer had the patience to wait. To stay in the same city of those who took what was more dear to her.

Once dressed, Dany left her chambers with Ghost behind her, heading towards the garden where the two were training. 

Outside, Dany saw that their host was watching the training too, with a smile on his lips. So stepping next to the man, Dany asked, “What is it Xaro Xhon Daxos? You have never seen a girl train before?”

“No, on the contrary. I come from the Summer Isles, Princess. Their warrior women are far more common than in the Seven Kingdoms. Xanda Qo, Princess of Sweet Lotus Vale, was a warrior woman Xanda Qo, Princess of Sweet Lotus Vale, was a warrior woman who ended slavery on the Summer Isles and united all the islands under her rule.”

“She seems a rather interesting woman and one to be looked up to,” Dany smiled, just like many daughters of House Targaryen, to which the man chuckled.

“Indeed. She invented the famous goldenheart bows, from a wood found only on Jhala and Omboru. She also built the tall, graceful ships known as swan ships, named for their curved prows carved into the shapes of birds and beasts. But sadly her daughter wasn’t as the mother. Yes, she was a very good warrior like her mother, fighting in the Slaver’s Wars, but under Princess Chatana’s reign, what her mother built was lost.”

“Why do I feel that this is a lesson you are giving me Xaro Xhon Daxos, but not of history?"

“Because it is. It’s a lesson to remember. Never follow your heart and use your head wisely.”

“I see. And on what regard, do enlighten me, my lord.”

The man now turned fully towards her, becoming serious, or as serious as he could be, “You want to avenge your House, to retake the throne. I can help you. Come.” He nodded, and Dany followed the man, and Ghost never left her.

Xaro Xhon Daxos led her back inside the palace, through the maze of hallways till they reached a great round door. Pulling out the sword, the man striked the vault twice, before pulling it back, and Dany noticed that Ghost’s fangs were bare, so she rested a hand on his head.

“The door and the vault are made of Valyrian stone. The hardest steel does not make a mark. I offered the greatest locksmiths in Qarth their weight in gold if they could break into it. I made the same offer to the greatest thieves. They all went home empty-handed. The only thing that can open this door is this key.”

“And behind the door? And it can all be mine?”

“All? Let us say half,” the man replied, with a careful smile. “More than enough to buy horses, ships, and armies. Enough to go home.”

An eyebrow rose, as that picked her curiosity. “All I have to do?”

“Is marry me.”

And Dany chuckled. Now everything was clear and he must not be aware of Jon. Wetting her lips Dany said, "That was a romantic proposal."

"I've already married once for love, but the gods stole her from me. I come from nothing. My mother and father never owned a pair of shoes. But marry me, and I will give you the Seven Kingdoms and our children will be princes and princesses." The mem took a step closer, "The day you come we talked about what our hearts desired.  See? I have more ambition than you thought. The time is right, Daenerys Targaryen, First of Your Name. Robert Baratheon is dead.”

And Dany tried to feel surprised at his word because that was something she already knew while what she needed was for his plan to be revealed. She wanted to see if this man was indeed what he shows or if he was nothing else but a liar.

After the conversation with Xaro Xhon Daxos, Dany went back to the garden, seeing Jorah sitting with Arya and Nymeria, teaching her lessons, and clearing her throat, she let herself know.

“Dany! You are finally awake!” Arya said, getting up.

“I am,” chuckled Dany. “Thought, I was already awake before the morning lights even broke.” Brushing some wet locks, Dany said, “Go and take a bath, Arya. We won’t stay here for long. And I need to talk with Ser Jorah.”

The girl nodded. “Come Nymeria.” And girl and wolf run away.

Once alone with the knight of Bear Island, Dany said, “I thought you hated the Stark. Yet I find you here in the garden teaching the daughter of the lord of Winterfell sword fight and telling her stories about the rebellion.”

“It’s only Ned Stark I hate, Princess,” the man replied, getting up. “And the girl is smart. She reminds me of my own family. My cousins.”

Dany had no words for this opening of his, so she decided to go to the reason of why she was there. “I want you to go in the search of the woman. You know who I’m talking about, and you know what is the name she goes by in this city.”

The man nodded, bowing and leaving, while Dany played with her fingers. It was time to see her dragons and get them ready for the warlocks.

Crownlands

Shortly after news about Renly's death came, they got informed that Stannis was marching North with the Stormlands Lords and some from the Reach, while a fleet was sailing to the black waters.

So Tywin immediately got to work getting the city ready for a siege. 

The good news was that Tyrell accepted his offer, while the bad one was that the dumb Mace didn't know if he could get to King’s Landing in time. However,  it didn't matter to him.  They had the means to fight back the enemy even if Tyrell wouldn't come in time. 

Now he was waiting for the commanders to join him in the small council room in the tower of the hand while looking at the map of Westeros and King's Landing. However, when they got in, Tywin never expected for his daughter to join them.

"What are you doing here? This is a war meeting." 

Yes. Concerning my son's protection," retorted Cersei, taking a chair and placing it next to him. Then she filled herself a gob with one and sat on it. "Whatever concerns the king concerns me, Lord Hand."

Tywin did not like this behavior of hers, but he will overlook it this time.

Our spies informed me that Stannis's fleet was anchored at Wendwater Bridge. Undoubtedly he intends to march on King's Landing by land through the Kingswood.  We won't ride out to meet him in open field because the wolves are at our doors too. But I won’t stop whoever would want to prove himself and slow their march by attacking the army."

“I will,” Clegane stated, not that he didn’t expect the Mountain to not volunteer for some slaughters. 

“Good. You will also have the Mountain clans with you. Now. As for the fleet. Stannis has at least two hundred ships with him while King's Landing has only fifty. Therefore we will have to think carefully about how to use them."

If I may, father.  I have a suggestion for this," came his daughter’s voice who got up. "We have few, yes, but there's a weapon that can be used against Stannis' ships and his whole army. Wildfire."

Tywin was surprised by this,  and he glanced at the men. "Leave." 

Then once alone,  he filled a cup of wine for himself,  and leaning against the table asked, "How?"

"After Stark’s escape, I commanded the pyromancers to start work on this because I knew the enemy would have struck soon. Since then they have been working tirelessly, day and night. To this day their number counts at 7,811 pots. Enough to burn Stannis Baratheon's fleet and armies.”

Tywin didn’t reply, impressed by her move, but at the same time displeased because this was the favorite weapon of his arch-enemy. And there was a high risk of using it.

“I listened to septa's lectures on the history of House Targaryen. You see how much I am the heir you should be taking into consideration."

"You have taken a reckless step. Yes. I know what this weapon does and how effective it is against the enemy. But at the same time, I know how it could backfire on us. One wrong step and the city is wiped out."

“You are telling me that you won’t use it?”

“Leave, Cersei. And stay out of the business that doesn’t concern you,” he retorted, without looking at his daughter, hearing her puff, and leave the chamber. Well, she gave him a formidable weapon. Now Tywin only needed to figure out how to use it at best, which trusted men to put so that it won’t backfire them. 

When night came, Tywin left the Red Keep to head towards the Guildhall of the Alchemists, because he needed to see the wildfire with his own eyes. 

Once there, he was led to the head of the Alchemists’ Guild, Hallyne the Pyromancer.

“Lord Hand? What are you doing here?”

“The Queen informed me that she has tasked your guild with producing Wildfire to use against Stannis. I came to see such weapon.”

“Of course,” the man replied, getting up, and started to lead him to the palace. 

All the way, the man keep explaining him how they were keeping King’s Landing safe from the fire should anything go wrong, but it’s not like he needed anyone of this information since he was already aware of their technique thanks to that mad Man of Aerys. May the Seven curse and torture him in the other life as they did in this one when they drove him mad.

The moment they reached a room, the pyromancers opened the door, revealing the great number of pots harbored there, and Hallyn said, “We have worked day and night since the moment the queen employed us and will be enough to-”

“I know. And I have a plan on how to use it against the fleet, but what about transporting this weapon by land? From what I remember, Aegon IV tried to do so when invading Dorne only for the weapon to backfire him.”

“I fear we don’t, except what had already been used in the past. What I can say that when King Aegon marched on Dorne the weather was far more heated than now, and this could be an advantage for us. Of course, all will depend on where is the enemy.”

Tywin nodded, leaving the gild to go back to the Red Keep.

“The enemy is outnumbering us and has the city’s defense on his side. I won’t lie. It will be a tough fight but we can still win. The Red God is on our side and showed me the victory in the flames,” Stannis said while looking at his men. “We had more ships, and we will use that. The fleet will engage the city defenses from Blackwater, thanks to the Myrish warships. While the foot army will attack the king’s gate.”

They all agreed, and Stannis dismissed them, but Davos remained behind. “ If I may, Your Grace. You should send an envoy to Lord Stark in the Riverlands. Ally yourself with him."

"If Stark wanted to join me, he would have done so. I won't beg for aid from a man who is obliged to give it when the King is at war. Until he comes I will treat him as such. A traitor."

"But we are outnumbered. Tywin Lannister will not march out to face us in open field with Stark camped at his door. He will stay behind the walls and then it will be difficult to defeat. I urge you again to seek his aid and to make your charges of treason once the war is won and the throne is yours, sire."

That was enough to end the argument. 

Riverlands

Jon was standing on the walls looking outside as the men were building the siege engineering which may be useful during the siege of King’s Landing. If it will come to that of course, while he was losing his patience. 

The Vale army was still away, and the Lannister did not leave King’s Landing, most likely getting ready for him or for Stannis if the man got the Stormlands and the Reach on his side.

Robb on the other hand busied himself with the training of the recruits. Young lowborn lads who aspired to become something and of course unleash his pain upon his opponents when it occurred. But how to blame him? He lost his mother. 

As he stood there, Jon wondered where Dany was. It has been long since the last time she came to him with the candles, and Jon feared that something bad had happened to her. His heart was telling him that she was all right. 

“Jon,” he h heard his uncle call him, and turning, Jon saw him climb up the stairs. “News from Lord Royce. They had crossed the Trident near the inn. The Valemen will be here before dusk.”

“And the Lannister?”

“There is no sight of them. Neither from the west nor from the south,” his uncle replied, looking beyond the wall toward the busy men. “Stannis is marching on King’s Landing with thirty thousand men. He thinks that he can win but he can’t. Tywin Lannister has more troops in the city. He could march to meet him but I don’t think he will do it. Not while we are in the Riverlands and the Vale is on the way.”

“And I suppose you want us to go in his help,” scoffed Jon. “I gave my word to Brienne, uncle. And you should know that a word given cannot be broken.”

“I’m not asking you to not kill him. I’m only asking your opinion on this. We can join him and sort the matters about the throne later, or we can wait and let Lannister get stronger maybe even with the Tyrell on his side.”

“The siege engineerings aren’t ready yet. The Vale as you said is still on the march and the moment they will get her they will need time to rest before marching on king’s Landing which will take us almost two weeks.”

“I know. But once they are done with him they will come after us.”

Before they could continue, however,  they got interrupted by a soldier who said, "There is someone who asked to see you, Lord Stark." And as the soldier stepped aside, Jon saw a hooded man walk, and lowering his hood he revealed himself as an old man with white hair and beard, and commoners clothes. 

"Barristan Selmy," his uncle said, almost chuckling with happiness as he moved down the stairs to greet the old man and Jon followed behind, where they were joined by Robb.  "What are you doing here?"

"Is it true the news that is running around the Riverlands? That the boy is Prince Rhaegar’s son?"

"It is. He is Aegon, son of my sister Lyanna and the Prince, born in a Tower of Dorne at the end of the rebellion," Lord Stark said and the man's sight drew to him. "I know what you think,  Ser Barristan.  He doesn’t look like a Targaryen-"

"But I can see Prince Rhaegar in him," the old knight replied,  pulling out a sword and the soldier tried to but Lord Stark stopped him. Kneeling, the man said, "King Aegon, my sword is yours, my life is yours. Let me join your Kingsguard and I swear I will not fail your house again.”

“You bend the knee to Robert. Why should he accept the oath of a man who is a turn cloak?” Robb said.

“Aye, I did. I took Robert’s pardon. I served him in Kingsguard and council. Served with the Kingslayer and others near as bad as him, who soiled the white cloak I wore. Nothing will excuse that. I might be serving in King’s Landing still if the vile boy upon the Iron Throne had not cast me aside, it shames me to admit. But when he took the cloak that the White Bull had draped about my shoulders, and sent men to kill me that selfsame day, it was as though he’d ripped a caul off my eyes. That was when I knew I must find my true king, and die in his service.”

“And you think I’m the King you are searching?” Jon asked, and the man nodded. “You know that if we lose you will be labeled as a traitor.”

“If I must die a traitor then so be it but I will do it serving a true king,” Ser Barristan said. “But before I took Robert’s pardon I fought against him on the Trident.”

Jon glanced at his uncle who nodded, and turning his attention to the man, he said, “Then rise, Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard.”

The man did, and Jon decided to ask his opinion on what to do, next, “I am at a crossroads, Ser Barristan, and would like to hear your opinion as a veteran commander and fighter. Stannis Baratheon is marching on King's Landing with the goal of taking the throne, but an army far bigger than his own awaits him. What do you suggest I do? Go to his aid and of course increase the chances of victory, or wait and face whoever comes out victorious?"

"Stannis Baratheon thinks he is the rightful king, your grace. Whether you want it or not, you will have to face him on the battlefield or in a duel. You should join him in taking the city. Many things happen during a battle and the man is remembered for being a commander who leads from the front."

Jon smiled, before leaving without adding another word. Now it was time for him to think on what to do.

Finding the brave companions was a thought task because it was scattered across the Riverlands, but in the end, he managed to find them. Or him to be precise. Bronn heard enough of the man to know how dangerous he was and how to never let his guard down in the Goat’s presence.

“Vargo Hoat. You were foolish to leave the Lannister's service, but it is not too late to make amends for that. If you manage to get us inside the walls of Riverrun, Tywin Lannister will pay well.”

“Oh yeth. Half the gold in Cathterly Rock, I thall have.”

“Even more than that you shall have. A castle better than Harhenhall. Or you aren’t afraid of the course?”

The man chuckled, as Bronn followed on his chuckle.

Sansa was sitting on the wide sill of the great window, looking outside at the river. This was the same place where usually sat her mother and now she could no longer do it. Because she was dead. 

"Are you all right,  my lady?" She heard someone say,  startling her, but a sigh of relief came from her when she saw it was him.

She got up, greeting the young man with a reverence, "Lord Domeric."

“Please. There is no need for formalities. Call me only Domeric,” the young man said, with a smile, something she had never seen Lord Bolton do it. “What ails you, my lady?”

I have received news that my mother has died," she said, lowering her gaze and another sob escaped her. "She went to the Vale, and... and, my aunt killed her." Sansa buried her face in her hands, weeping silently, but she felt, the boy attempt to comfort her, rubbing her back, and then wrapping his arms around her body.

"I am so sorry, my lady. I know what it feels to lose a mother," he said, and Sans looked up with tearful eyes before she cleaned them. “My mother died when I was born. I know. My story is far more different than yours. To me, my mother is more a stranger than something familiar, but even with that, I still feel her loss. Even if I never met her.”

She smiled, but the pain did not leave anyway.

"Would you like for me to sing for you?" The boy asked as he pulled out a harp and then moved to take a chair before placing it next to her, and Sansa nodded, cleaning the tears, sniffing.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found

And the ones who had loved her the most

The ones who'd been gone for so very long

She couldn't remember their names

They spun her around on the damp old stones

Spun away all her sorrow and pain

He had such a sweet, radiant voice, and even his fingers moved elegantly over the strings to the rhythm of the song.

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found

And the ones

Who had loved her the most."

That seem to make her want to cry even more because it was a sad song, but she desisted. 

"Yes, I know. It isn’t a very joyful song but I heard many sing it in the Riverlands. Some folks say that it was composed by a stranger during the Tourney of Harrenhal." Suddenly the horn could be heard and Domeric got up. I will go and see what is happening. 

Once outside, Domeric leaned on the stone rail of the stair, seeing men get in the courtyard,  and the Master at Arms approach them. 

“Vargo Hoat,” Domeric said the name and heard Rodrik mumble, “Sellsword scum. They cannot be trusted. Go back inside and watch over Lady Sansa.”

“Do you fear an attack?”

“With Sellsword you never know,” the man said, nodding him to go back, and Domeric obeyed even though he longed for a battle because he wanted to prove himself worthy.

They spent the following hours talking, laughing, and even reading one of the books that were concerning the history of Westeros, but mainly the part about the North. The topic was the great rivalry between House stark and House Bolton.

Domeric thought she was a very sweet girl, but soon he had learned that what she likes were young brave knights in shining armor. Something he will never be.

Suddenly, the door opened, and they saw a bloodied Ser Rodrick lock it behind him. Swalwong will trying to regain his breath, the old knight of House Stark said, “You need to hide up, my lady. The Lannister got in the castle.”

Chapter Text

" Sire. The Lannisters managed to repel our assault on the King's gate," Rolland Storm said, panting coming to his side. "We assaulted the walls, but the men defending them leave no quarter."

"The Mud Gate is giving up," Stannis said, pointing with his sword, and seeing how the men were ramming the gates and trying to climb the walls. So to infuse them with courage, he decided to lead the second sortie himself.

He managed to climb the walls, make his way with the sword and his men in tow, and then reach the gates. "Raise men!" and they tried, as the enemy surrounded them from the inside of King's Landing and arrows rained down on them. It was a chaos.

Eventually, they managed to open the gates and let their men in, who clashed with the mass of Lannisters. But at that same instant, Stannis heard horns sounding from the south, and Robert came shouting to him.

"We are being attacked from the Rear! Renly has returned from the dead to punish the traitors!"

And so he was dragged away, and forced to flee with the tail between his legs as the ghost of his brother had returned from the dead to slay the traitors.

Stannis took a swig, rising from his chair and staring out the window as the rain poured down on Dragonstone. Such a defeat eclipsed all the victories he had won before. Now all is lost and on the throne that is rightfully his sits a bastard usurper.

Upon hearing steps approaching, Stannis said, “You said you saw my victory in the flames.”

“I did. I still see it. Every time I look into the fire, R’hollor shows me a warrior of the Light sit upon the throne like a conqueror. He showed me a man who will never be defeated,” then turning his face, the woman said, looking him in the eyes. “That man is you, Stannis Baratheon,”

“The flames lied. And I'm no better than a savage trusting in a fire god,” Stannis retorted, moving back to the painted table. With hands gripping the edges, and eyes looking on King’s Landing, he continued. “I fought for your god in Blackwater Bay. I led my men to the gates of the seventh hell as their brothers burned alive, and for what? Attacked from behind by the Tyrell and my brother’s Ghost. If you see so much in your flames, why didn't you warn me that they were coming?”

“The Lord of Light only allows me glimpses.”

Stannis chuckled. “You claimed to speak for a god.”

“Will you quit the war just because you've lost a battle?” she asked, approaching him.

“You talk about war as if you understand it.”

“I've been fighting far longer than you.”

At which, Stannis turned fully towards her and wrapped his hand around her neck, starting to choke the woman. “Show me how you fight, Priestess.” She gasps painfully, grabbing his hands. “Show me.” But now the woman no longer opposed, removed her hands from his, and raised them in surrender.

“Where's your god now? Will he save you? Where is your god?” Stannis tightened the grip, and in a chocking way, retorted, “Inside you.”

Stannis let her go and the Red Priestess fell to the floor, panting. Turning, Stannis moved to the fire heart, saying, “I murdered my brother.”

“We murdered him,” she said, swallowing, and following him. “Share the weight with me, my king.”

“He wasn't your brother.”

But she caressed his head, soothingly. “This war has just begun. It will last for years. Thousands will die at your command. You will betray the men serving you. You will betray your family. You will betray everything you once held dear. And it will all be worth it because you are the Son of Fire. You are the Warrior of Light. You will sweep aside this pretender and that one. You will be king.”

“You promise these things, but you don't know. None of us know,” retorted Stannis, but his eyes were fixed on the dancing flames.

“Look into the fire, my king. Look,” she showed with the hand.

“I see fire.”

“Keep looking. Do you see? Do you see, my king?” And Stannis looked into the fire. His eyes grow wide, and his face softens, as Melisandre rested her head on his shoulder. Yes. He could see the Iron throne. The shadow sitting upon the throne. He could see the fire sword, Lightbringer, raised above him.

“Make me another son. I want Joffrey dead.”

“I can’t. You don't have the same strength as before. Your light is burning lower because you are losing faith. It would kill you.”

“I'm not so easily killed. Men have been trying for years. Men tried in King’s Landing.”

“We will use another way to make you King and drive us out of the shadow that is coming,” she said, and Stannis moved back to the table, waiting to hear what she had planned for his enemy.

King’s Landing

His grandson was sitting on the Iron Throne clapping his hands for the heroes of the Battle, but Tywin knew the war was far from over. Stannis Baratheon may have been defeated, but the wolf was still at their doors.  What was good now was the fact that they had enough men to ride out and face them. However, first, Tywin needed to learn where they were and plan the battle at best.

Once he stopped, the king said, “Ser Loras Tyrell.” And the boy stepped forward from the crowd, and kneeled before his king, “Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours.”

“All my life my dream was to become a member of the Kingsguard. To become one of the seven."

"So be it. The Kingsguard has a seat vacant, and the throne is in need of a sword as skillful as yours. Rise, Ser Loras Tyrell. Member of the Kingsguard." And the boy rose with a smile on his lips, as the crowd clapped their hands.

But another young man stepped forward, kneeling down, saying, "Forgive me if I dare, your grace, but that is a young knight's dream. What House Tyrell asks instead is a union. My sister Margaery, her husband went to war before he could consume the marriage. She is still a maiden. I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honor of marrying her.”

“Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?” the king asked as all the eyes settled on the girl, who was smiling, but Tywin could tell it was actually an act.

She took a few steps forward, making a reverence, “With all my heart, Your Grace. I have come to love you from afar, my King. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me.”

Joffrey had an arrogant grin on his lips, as he was pleased by her words, replying to her words, in his own gallant way. “I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady. It would be an honour to return your love. But I must follow the people’s choice.” Then addressing the crowd, Joffrey asked, “Do you want me to make Lady Margaery your queen?”

“Yes! Margaery! We want Margaery!”

And at the crowd’s wishes, Joffrey stood up, gesturing for the crowd to quiet. “Ser Garlan Tyrell. Ser Loras Tyrell. I will gladly wed your sweet sister. You will be my queen and I will love you from this day until my last day. Now come and let us hug as brothers.”

The two Tyrells exchanged a look and approached the king, one at a time, and Joffrey kissed them on the cheek, before the girl approached, whose hand Joffrey took in his own, and then kissed the knuckles, while the crowd applauded.

After that, while still holding the girl by the hand, Joffrey silenced the crowd, Joffrey, said, now that House Baratheon, Tyrell, and House Lannister are bonded together we will march on Harrhenal, and we will crush them. I will lead the army. At that, his daughter exchanged a look with him, because she didn’t like the sound of it, and neither he, because Kings should not be on the battlefield.

“I already hate him,” Margaery said, while holding a goblet to her lips, and looking outside the room, on the feast city that was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. A mess of a city filled with stinking smells and rot. Not like Highgarden, which smelled of fragrant roses and other flowers.

“You won't have to bear him for long, sister. Enough until you get pregnant."

"You know he wasn't my choice," she retorted, with bitterness in her voice and returning "What do you think will happen to him once Joffrey gets his hands on him."

"He will die a traitor and the Lannisters will most likely marry one of Lord Stark's daughters to Tommen. Or perhaps the youngest son to Myrcella," Garlan replied, getting up and moving to fill his goblet again. "What is certain is that Eddard Stark, Robb Stark and Jon Snow's days are numbered."

Of course. Why did she even ask? Taking a sip, Margaery said, "Will you lead the Tyrell army?"

"Half of the army. Randyll Tarly will lead the other."

"Split our forces?" asked Margaery confused, and her brother nodded. "Lord Tywin wants to attack Harrhenal from three sides, but following three different paths.” Stopping, Garlan took a sip, and some breath, before sitting back down. “I will take the Rosby north, then the Duskendale road to take back Maidenpool, while Lord Tarly will march up the Kingsroad and camp at .

Stopping, he took another sip, and Margaery asked, “And the great Tywin Lannister?”

“He will take the Goldroad to meet with the reinforce coming from the Westerlands and then march on Harrhenal.”

“I understand. I just hope you won't put yourself in needless danger for the glory or fame."

"You know these have never interested me," Garlan replied, taking another sip. "But I promise that if I reach Robb Stark before the Lannisters I will try to save his life."

She nodded in gratitude, saying nothing more, but with her mind filled with those ugly thoughts of what may happen to him.

"I don’t want him to join the march,” Cersei said, bursting inside the Hand’s Tower as her father was busy writing, not even sparing her a glance of acknowledging her presence. “I said-“

“I heard you. And I agree. He will stay here until I will deal with the Stark,” her father cut her off and put the letter aside.

“What is that?”

“Letters. For all those who will be loyal to us,” her father replied, writing. “I intend to marry Myrcella to Lord Bolton’s son and grant him the Lordship of Winterfell and the paramountcy of the North once he will turn his men on Stark.”

“Never!” but her father ignored her complaint, continuing on his way. “Tommen is going to become lord of the Stormlands and he will marry a girl from the Stormlands to secure his rulership over the land. Jaime, once he will be freed, will marry Arianne Martell, securing this way an alliance with Dorne, while the Son Quentyn will marry Kevan's daughter when she will come of age and I’ve already arranged for a great dowry to be made for the girl.”

“No, no, no. I won’t let you sell my daughter away as you did with me. I will not force my daughter into a miserable, unhappy life like mine! I will-"

"You will do what I command!" her father shouted. “No one is exempt from the duty to the House Lannister and the safety of its future."

“Yet you spared that fate to your dwarf son.”

“I spared him nothing because he will do his duty to House Lannister when the time will come,” the Lord Hand retorted and she shut her mouth knowing further argue would result in only another defeat. “In three days, we will leave King’s Landing to march on the Riverlands from three ways. Steffon and his son are already marching down the Goldroad to join me and then march on Harrhenal.”

“You will leave the city unprotected?”

“No. I will leave the city with ten thousand men not counting the Gold Clocks,” her father retorted. “It will be enough to defend it. Kevan will stay here too. And the Redwyne fleet is on the way. So, Stannis won’t attack the city again.”

“What if the Stark will march here while you go out to meet them?”

“The Tyrell will block their way in Brindlewood and at Duskendale,” her fathers, said, unrolling a map, and showing her the places. “But now that Eddard Stark is the leader, he will be less carless than his son when it comes to wasting the lives of his men.”

“And less unpredictable. Isn’t that why you lost to Robb Stark? You underestimated a boy who kicked our asses,” said Cersei, while trying to not laugh at her father because he always was there to impart lessons and now, he was the one to learn a lesson for a boy not even twenty summers.

“Rumours had reached my ears that there is a Targaryen in his ranks. Daenerys Targaryen.”

“Daenerys Targaryen isn’t in the Riverlands. She is still in the North.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Varys. He told me about her in exchange of his life.”

“And you accepted?” asked Cersei in disbelief.

“Not yet. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot of work to do before my departure,” her father said, dismissing her, and Cersei obeyed. But she had no intention of returning to her chambers. No. She will go to the black cells and see what else the Spider knows.

Harrhenal

As soon as he was informed of Stannis' defeat at the Blackwater, Ned immediately went to inform his nephew about it, who didn't seem to care.

"I told you this would happen Jon," Ned said, sighing. "Now, thanks to the Lannister and Tyrell alliance, Joffrey will have an army of a hundred thousand men only King's Landing alone. Very soon they will march in force against us. I'll be honest with you Jon. I don't think we'll win even with the help of the Vale. We have at best fifty thousand men. But what is worse is the fact that Jaime Lannister escaped. The Brave Companions are all dead and their heads are hanging down the walls of Riverrun, but he escaped."

But now that he had finished, his nephew began to speak. "Sansa?”

“She is well and safe. The Bolton boy protected her. But I commanded Rodrick to take her back to Winterfell. And we shall do it too.”

“No. Let them come after us. I have been able to make clear a battle plan."

"There is no plan that can defeat a hundred thousand men in the field if you do not have Dragons on your side, Jon. That's how Aegon did it in the Field of Fire will the only dragons we have are gone only the Gods know where in Essos, and even so they can't be used for battle."

"I disagree uncle. As I have already told you I have been able to make a plan while we were waiting for the siege weapons to get ready. But for this plan to happen we must split our armies into three different bulks."

"Split our armies?" chuckled Ned. "Have you gone mad?"

"Robb defeated the Lannisters even when they outnumbered him, yet you said nothing about it. Do you doubt my qualities, my sharp mind, uncle?"

"Yes. I doubt it because you lack battle experience. Oh sure, you are very good with the sword, the best in the North, but fighting on the front and managing a battle are two very different matters, Jon."

Whereupon his nephew picked up a book and put it on the table. Ned read the title. 'The Art of War.' Unknown author. "So, this is how you want to defeat the Lannisters? With books by foreign authors?"

"I understand you lost your wife, Lord Stark, but don't blame me. I did not ask you to send your wife to the Vale. If you no longer wish to support me, say so and go back to Winterfell, but do not treat me like a fool when I make decisions about the future of my soon-to-be kingdom. You pushed me this way. Now let me do it."

"I am with you," came a voice from the doorway, and turning Ned saw his son standing and ready for battle with her armour on. "I have faith in your plan. Tell me and it will be done, Your Grace."

"You have lost your wits. You are young and foolish. You really think that the seasoned commanders leading these armies will fall into the trap of young boys after what Robb did to Tywin, who isn't really known for leading prowess anyway, but for a cunning and distorted mind. The Tyrells have Randyll Tarly. Remember, he was the only one who defeated Robert."

"Not if we split our armies, marching on King's Landing from three different ways. At that point Tywin Lannister will be forced to split his forces too and even if outnumbered we can win by choosing the battlefield ourselves and then finally march on King's Landing to take it without much resistance."

Ned nodded, ready to listen to the plan even though he had many doubts about it.

Qarth

The bear came to seek your help. We are glad you did not fall for his tricks,” said the Warlock, as she was drawing the symbols of protection on the sailor. “But that isn’t enough. The girl still doesn’t accept our invitation to visit the House of Undying. Your work is not finished. You must convince her to come in."

“As you wish, master.”

“Remember the price you will pay for the failure,” the warlock said, and she felt the magic of the bracelets around her wrists heating. After that, the warlocks disappeared.

Once she had finished with the man who was sailing to Valyria, Ashara left her place, heading to Xaro Xhoan Daxos’ palace, to talk with Daenerys Targaryen even if not for the reason why the warlocks sent her for.

Upon reaching it, she was informed by Dorhea that the girl was with her dragons and so she was led there. Ashara spotted Ser Jorah standing at the entrance of the great building, with hands resting on the sword. While from the inside, Ashara could hear an almost ethereal voice sing. It was reminding her so much of that night from Harrhenal before she danced with Ned when the Last Dragon entertained them with Jenny of Oldstones’ song.”

“My lady,” he greeted her with a bow of the head. “What are you doing here? I thought that you couldn’t help her.”

“I’m not here to help. I’m here to deliver a message,” Ashara said, and he nodded, opening the door and Dany heard the Princess stop from her singing. “What song was that? I never heard it before.”

“Neither did I. But since the day we run from Valyria I kept hearing it in my dreams,” the Princess replied. “I don’t know what it means. But I can feel they like it.”

“I see,” she smiled, sitting down, but far enough from the dragons because they were unpredictable. “You have a beautiful voice. Just like your brother.” And the Princess’s eyes light up at the compliment and even watered. “When he sang Jenny of Oldstones, all the ladies were crying. Benjen Stark teased her that night his sister and she purred wine on his head.”

Making Daenerys giggle. “So, that was when she fell for him?”

“Maybe. I know when he did. It happened when Lyanna Stark came to the rescue of Howland Reed. Your brother witnessed the confrontation from afar. He later discovered that she was also the mysterious knight who had unhorsed the knights of the squires who had attacked the Crannogman the night before.”

“An exciting story. Unfortunately, we all know how it ended and the many innocent people who died because of it," replied the girl, and Ashara decided to end it there. “Why are you here? Jorah told me-“

“I know what he told you. I still don’t know how to help you, and the candles are back inside the House. My knowledge now only lies in the symbols that I draw for the sailors and all those who goes in dangerous places.”

“Do they work everywhere?”

“No. They don’t work inside the House if that is what you are hopping,” replied Rhaella, getting what she was seeking. “But they are losing the patience, Daenerys. They want you to visit the House.”

“For what reason?”

“For what reason, you think?” but the girl didn’t reply. “I thought that was the reason of why you were here. You wanted to make them pay for your loss. You wanted to end their threat for your family.”

“I do. And I will. When I’m ready,” the Princess retorted and Ashara could see the Targaryen's temper and attitude kick in, waking the dragon. Literally and figuratively. “I will send for you, Lady Ashara. Remember that you owe me a debt.”

Ashara nodded, getting up, and leaving the place, to go back to her own, but in that moment, she noticed Xaro Xhoan Daxos talking with Dorhea. This wasn’t good. And she will need to warn the Princess.

When dusk came, and after having left instructions to Ser Jorah on what to do, Dany took Morghul and went to the House of the Undying, where she met the warlock Pyat Pree and followed his instructions. However once, she never expected to find that. She saw visions of her past. And of her future. Yes, they warned her about it, but seeing them was another kind of experience.

Faster and faster the visions came, one after the other, until it seemed as if the very air had come alive. Dany saw a little girl ran barefoot toward a big house with a red door, that she recognized as herself when she was in Braavos. The shadow of a man with a flaming sword in hands standing before an army of shadows with blues eyes. A city in flames with ten thousand slaves who lifted up bloodstained hands as she raced by on a silver horse, riding like the wind, and they were crying her name and calling her. “Mother, mother!”

They were reaching for her, touching her, tugging at her cloak, the hem of her skirt, her foot, her leg, her breast. They wanted her, needed her, the fire, the life, and Dany gasped and opened her arms to give herself to them.

But then everything disappeared, and she found herself in a giant destroyed hall, cold and inside which it was snowing. At the end of it there was a monstrous throne, twisted and made of swords, upon which was sitting a man, cradled all in a dark armour with the red three headed dragon crafted on his breastplate and holding a sword. A sword that she had never seen before, but that she could tell it was made of Valyrian steel.

He looked to be young and a Targaryen. Curly Silver-gold hair, and dark eyes. Just like hers. Or like her brother. Could this be actually Rhaegar? But she never met him.

Suddenly the visions were gone, and Dany found the Undying all around her, blue and cold, whispering as they reached for her, pulling, stroking, tugging at her clothes, touching her with their dry cold hands, twining their fingers through her hair.

All the strength had left her limbs. She could not move. Even her heart had ceased to beat. But then indigo turned to orange, and whispers turned to screams. Heat washed over her skin, and Dany blinked at a sudden glare.

Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, their high thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead. Their flesh was crumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced as the flames consumed them. They staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.

Dany pushed herself to her feet and bulled through them. They were light as air, no more than husks, and they fell at a touch. The whole room was ablaze by the time she reached the door.

“Morghul!” she called after her dragon, and he flew to her through the fire.

Outside a long dim passageway stretched serpentine before her, lit by the flickering orange glare from behind. Dany ran, searching for a door, a door to her right, a door to her left, any door, but there was nothing, only twisty stone walls, and a floor that seemed to move slowly under her feet, writhing as if to trip her. She kept her feet and ran faster, until suddenly the door was there ahead of her, a door like an open mouth.

When she came out of the House of the Undying, the sun was breaking through the clouds, lighting her way down the stairway. Pyat Pree was gibbering in some unknown tongue and hopping from one foot to the other. When Dany looked behind her, she saw thin tendrils of smoke forcing their way through cracks in the ancient stone walls of the Palace of Dust and rising from between the black tiles of the roof.

Howling curses, Pyat Pree drew a knife and danced toward her, but Morghul immediately burned him down.

Ser Jorah came to her side, kneeling. “My lady. Are you well?”

And she nodded. “We need to go back to Xaro’s palace and take Arya. They will ask for our heads.”

“No one will harm you,” the man said, handing her Darksister, and then helped her up.

She stood there for a moment watching as the house of lies was crumbling to the ground. Now it was done. They had avenged her baby and secured her family. For now, at least.

After that, they left that place before anyone could stop them, going back to Xaro’s palace where Arya was, and take everything from the inside. Even what was harbored in that sealed room. But also, to see the tracery with her own eyes because she didn’t want to believe that Dorhea would betray her.

Dany smiled with bitterness as she found Dorhea sleeping with next to Xaro, and with her sword Dany hooked his amulet away, startling the man awakes as he tried to grab his sword, only to not find it next to the bed because Jorah took it away.

“What the-“

And Doreah sits up too, gasping. “Princess Daenerys?”

“Why?” Dany pointed her sword at the girl’s throat. “Have I not be kind to you? Did I not always treated you like a sister more than the useful object my brother intended to use for his pleasure and more?”

“He said you'd never leave Qarth alive, Princess. Please, princess Daenerys.”

“Come,” Dany pulled away, and walking out of the room, and following the hallways, she headed in the search of that door. Using the amulet, she opened the vault's door with the help of Arya, but it was so heavy.

However once she got inside, Dany found it empty, and chuckled. “Thank you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. Thank you for teaching me this lesson.”

“I soon will become the king of Qarth, princess. I will help you, truly help you. We can take the Iron Throne. I'll bring you a thousand ships.

“Please, Princess, I beg you. I will never betray you again.”

“Shhh,” Dany silenced the girl. “A long time ago, a wise ruler said. ‘I love treason but hate a traitor’.”

“Please, Princess,” the girl begged her, crawling on her knees. “I will never betray you again. I will never, I will never…Please.”

“All that you have dreamed is within your reach!” insisted Xaro while Jorah and the men pushed him inside, before dragging a crying Dorhea too, before closing the vault, and sealing it.

After that, they gathered what gold or small valuable objects that could be carried by them. They of course got joined by Lady Ashara who was free now and with the candles, while Jorah and the men from the crew were dragging the sacks outside, she asked, “What will you do now? Will you come with me to Astapor?”

“Astapor? Why?”

“Have you never heard of the Unsullied? All Essos know them. And Illyrio had some of them as protection,” she replied. “I want to buy them. I need an army. An army to help Jon.”

“Help Jon or attack the being in Old Valyria?”

Both Dany wanted to say, but restrained. “You did not answer my question. Will you come with me?”

“You want me to come with you?” the woman asked, and Dany nodded. “I can’t. I haven’t seen my daughter since the day she was born. I need to go back to Dorne. To see her. Meet her.” And Dany sighed in disappointment.  

“Princess Daenerys!” she heard Ser Jorah call after her before the conversation could go further. “You need to come outside.”

She run outside, with everyone behind her, and they found armed men waiting for them. But not only them. There were the Purebloods who were leading the Civic Guard, the thirteen, and even the Pirates there, as she recognized the one with whom she had made the day of her arrival but with whom she still did not have the chance to talk about the ships.

“Daenerys Targaryen! You have committed a vile crime against Qarth and disturbed the peace of this fair city. We, the people of Qarth, have come to make you answer for such crimes."

"I have committed no crime, but to serve justice to those who have committed a crime against me," she replied, while her dragons were growing nervous, spreading their wings and hissing.

Glancing at Arya to make sure she was safe behind the direwolves and behind her, Dany took a step forward with a hand on Darksister, saying, "Now you will let us pass, and you will hand over the fleet of Qarth to me or you will see your city burn. And you know that when a Targaryen threatens with Fire and Blood, he means it."

Everyone began to laugh, only to shut up when her dragons began to breathe fire, and Viserion along with Rhaegal rose into the sky. Now they were afraid. Good. It was time to leave this place, and sail to Astapor.

Chapter Text

King’s Landing…

They were walking through the Sept of Baelor with the Tyrells, making small talks about the family, the future, and about the wedding, but Cersei did not like the woman. Not at all. She did not like the Tyrells, and she did not like the girl, but there was no better match for Joffrey than the Tyrells.

Her son on the other hand was entertaining the girl with talks about the Targaryen as all of them were buried inside the Sept. He talked about the Dance and about the following kings till the Mad one that was slain by Jaime, at the end of the rebellion.

Not wanting for any insult to come to Rhaegar because the conversation was clearly heading there, she said, “Are you sure Lady Margaery doesn't find all this a bit macabre?”

“Oh, no, it's quite all right, Your Grace. I'd love to see their tombs, really. It's like taking a walk through history,” the girl replied, flashing one of her false smiles. Cersei did not like this girl, but she could not fail to recognize that Margaery Tyrell knew how to amalgamate people and above all win their trust, seeing how her son was drooling for her. That was something she usually did in her youth...and even now.

“The tomb's just up here,” her son took the girl, but the hand, who giggled like a maiden while following him.

“You were married here, Your Grace?” Ollena asked, and Cersei turned to her, with the same fake smile that the girl had given her.

“Yes. After the rebellion. When Robert was crowned King, but it felt like a lifetime ago.”

“Your husband, was he buried here as well?”

“No, he wanted his remains returned to Storm's End.

“Such a tragedy,” the woman said and Cersei tried her best to not laugh in her face because she was the one who orchestrated his death. And it wasn’t a tragedy.

“A fairly predictable tragedy. Hunting and drinking don't mix.” Not to mention the poison that slowed him down before the boar made the rest.

“I should say not. My son's a hunter. It helps him forget he's never been within a mile of a real battle.

“I seem to recall he laid siege to Storm's End for the better part of a year,” Cersei tried to find words of praise for the old fool of House Tyrell who looked as old as her father even though he was closer to her in age than to the Mighty Tywin Lannister.

“All he laid siege to was the banquet table in the command tent.” And that made Cersei chuckle. “I told him to stay out of Robert's Rebellion. He had no business fighting an actual warrior. We mothers do what we can to keep our sons from the grave. But they do seem to yearn for it. We shower them with good sense, and it slides right off like rain off a wing.”

“And yet the world belongs to them.”

“A ridiculous arrangement, to my mind. But what sounded more ridiculous are the rumors concerning you, Queen Cersei.”

At that Cersei tensed, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course, you do. You are a very clever woman. Before attacking the capital Stannis Baratheon sent words to every house of the Seven Kingdoms claiming your children are all bastards, conceived with your brother Ser Jaime.”

“All lies. My children are King Robert’s,” the lioness retorted, proudly, to which the Queen of Thorns said, “Yet no one of them looks like a Baratheon.”

“It’s not the first-time children took after their mother,” Cersei retorted, but suddenly she heard the doors open, and turning to her son, Cersei saw the Tyrell girl intertwining her arm with him and stepping out of the sept.

“Joffrey. Wait,” she called after him, but it was too late. They were out and she could hear the crowd scream and call Joffrey’s name, hailing him as king, while Ollena Tyrell, leaning say, “A true queen always knows how to win the people's hearts for her king.”

Cersei gave her a glare, before returning her attention to the king who was still outside and waiting for him to get back in. The Tyrell girl was cunning and knew how to play her cards. She will be a problem in the near future.

In the Riverlands...

It was past none when they reached Brindlewood after a few days of marching from King’s Landing. Randyll gave the orders to get the village to be fortified with ramparts, ditches, and a ring to be made of the carriage that came with them from the capital and the one belonging to the commoners because he wanted for the camp to be well protected. In addition to that, he sent guards outside to make sure that the enemy wasn’t coming, because Harrhenal wasn’t too far from there.

He had almost thirty thousand men with him, and Randyll was sure that whatever attack will come they will win the battles. No one had defeated him till now, and no one will do it.

When night came, Randyll doubled the patrols because he didn’t want to be caught unprepared, and as he was dining with the high lords that were with him Randyll heard his son ask, “I don’t like this place father. The woods. The fields. It’s as if they are watching us.”

“We are on the borders with the Riverlands. Of course, we are being watched. That’s why I doubled the guards for the night with shorter shifts so that everyone can rest but at the same time be vigilant in case of attack,” Randyll retorted, filling his cup with wine again.

“What do you think of the wildfire? I don’t like its presence in our camp. You heard what happened in King’s Landing during the battle.”

“I do. And neither I like this kind of weapon. But Tywin Lannister demanded it,” replied Randyll taking a bit from his meal. “Beside if having it means we will get rid of the rebels quicker and with less casualties then there is nothing bad in using it.”

Finishing with their meal, Randyll said, “Everyone off to bed now. In the marrow, we will have a lot to do.” With those words her retired to one of the house that he had taken for himself for the duration of the staying, and where his son was staying too.

As every night that he spent on the march, even on this one Randyll slept with the cold blade of the sword next to him, ready to draw it out at any moment. But he had not even fallen asleep well, that Randyll felt his body shaking, and opening his eyes he saw his son standing. "Father. I think we are being attacked."

And Randyll immediately jumped down from the bed, and heading for the armour bed, smelling smoke. "Fire?" he asked, as his son helped him with his armour, but Dickon shrugged.

Once outside, he saw smoke engulf the village and men stir as flames flared in the trenches. Grabbing his son by the collar of the armour, Randyll said, "Dickon. The Wildfire. Get the wagons to safety." And his son ran away, while Randy called men to arms. "To me! To me men!"

Suddenly a loud thump was heard, and Randyll saw the green flames of the wildfire rise up from below and the shockwave of air knock him to the ground and making his ears ring.

A few moments before…a few miles outside the village…

Jon was ready to lead the charge when suddenly a green fire rose from the ground and that made the whole land around shake. Their horses reared starting to neigh and getting restless, making it impossible to start a charge.

“What do we do?” asked one of the men next to him.

“Robb is there. We need to find him, and we need to follow the plan. And we will do it from another side if it’s needed,” he said, urging his horse into the woods on the west side of the destroyed village, but there was no way of getting in. And especially whatever life was there was gone with the buildings.

Those who were near and survived started to skater, and Jon gave the order to attack them. “Let no one escape or they will regroup and will be difficult to fight them.”

The men at his command obeyed, turning the attention on the enemy, and starting to fight them, while Jon could hear horns sound, as the riders were taking care of the enemy.

Robb shook his head not understanding what had happened as he tried to get up. The last thing he remembered was them setting fire to the eastern trenches of the village, before moving away, and being hit by a wave of dust that sent him flying for who knows how many steps.

Getting up, Robb looked back to see the village destroyed and burning with a green fire, and heard men screaming as they were running away with some in flames, and immediately another explosion could be seen, but thankfully this time it was away from him. Holding his head Robb looked in search of the horse but there was no sign of him, while the men that were with him seemed to be dead.

Grey Wind, on the other hand, found him and thank the gods he had not come with him because that would have meant that he would have died in that explosion. 

The dierwolf began to nuzzle at his hand as Robb reassured him, "I'm fine, boy. I'm fine. Let's go join the men."

Robb began to walk, in the direction where he knew his men were waiting as they moved them silently once word of the enemy had reached them and they got rid of the scouts. The closer he got the more he heard the galloping of horses. They must have heard or seen the fire in the distance and knew it was time to attack. And he was ready to join them with Grey Wind.

They fought and hunted down the survivors so that they would not reach King's Landing until dawn, losing a few dozen of men in the process when large groups of men opposed them, before sending a fast rider to his uncle to warn him of this new weapon but hoping that the other two armies would not have it.

The prisoners, the dead and the wounded, were sent back to Harrhenal to be taken care of, while they moved north to attack the enemy who would besiege Maidenpool very soon from the rear.

"I know how you feel, Jon," Robb said, nearing his horse to his while they were marching at a walking pace because the men needed to arrive with all the strength. "When I sent the two thousand against Tywin knowing what would have been the outcome, I felt the same. That feeling will never pass and know that such things you will experience it so many times in the future. Not all the battles will turn out in victories. Especially once your family will be in danger."

"I know. It's the price of reigning. " Jon mumbled, looking down, before adding, with proudness. "But with Dany by my side, I am sure we will overcome any challenge."

"I don't doubt it. She's a great girl. But have you thought about what comes next?" asked Robb, and Jon gave him a confused look. "You told me she can't have children, and I doubt you will take another wife to make an heir. So what do you plan to do for the future? Because Westeros will fall in chaos once you are gone."

"Dany will have a child. I am sure of it. No one deserves to be a mother more than she does. The gods must grant her this happiness after making her life such living hell."

"But-"

"Enough, Robb! Think of your own girl instead who lies in the bed of the enemy while her armies fight us," snapped Jon, irritated by his words, but immediately felt guilty when Robb stopped and looked at him with a hurt expression and a clenched jaw. "Forgive me," Jon continued. "It was bad for me to say such a thing."

But Robb did not reply, turning his horse and riding away from the column.

Jon sighed, seeing that the sun was setting and so he stopped the men. "Make the horses rest. We make camp for the night."

Tumbler's Falls…

It was late in the afternoon when they landed at Tumbler’s Falls, only to be informed that the Rebels were camped a few miles from there on the only way where an army could pass. Tywin knew that there was no time to waste. He wanted to quench this rebellion quickly and return to King’s Landing because there was much to do to secure his grandson’s rule.

Once all of the men and horses were on the Ground, Tywin made them march at a double pace, but he did not like the colour of the sky because it was foreshadowing a rainy day. And fighting in a rainy day would be very tough.

It did not take them too long to reach the enemy and Tywin could finally spot them on the horizon, he immediately took note of how the enemy was deployed. Stark had less men than him, with the mainly made of footmen, guessing that the riders were somewhere else ready to attack them from the rear. Which meant that he needed to keep more men back from the fight.

“What do we do, my lord?” Steffon asked, nearing his horse to Tywin’s.

Red and Gold was covering the field before them as the Lannister were waving high their roaring lions and getting ready for the battle. But as they approached, a sudden rainstorm broke over the field, and Ned thought it was a very bad omen as the man in charge of the archers were shouting orders to de-strung their bows to avoid the strings in becoming slackened.

When word of the Lannister approaching reached his ears, Ned immediately got to work, dividing his army in three battalions, all deployed in a column on a small hill, but where there was no way of outflanking them, with only the high chances of crushing them against the sided rocks should the enemy mange to break their lines. Each division was composed of men-at-arms in the center, all on foot, with ranks of spearmen immediately behind them, and with longbowmen on each flank and in a skirmish line to their front.

GreatJon Umber along with his son commanded the vanguard. To its left, Ned had placed the knights of the Vale that were on foot under the command of Bronze Yohan with Men-at-Arms and almost two thousands archers. They were good but still did not had taste of battles.

Behind them, Ned was waiting with the reserves, almost three thousands of men between riders, archers, and footmen, and the baggage train was positioned to the rear of the whole army, where it was circled and fortified, to serve as a park for the horses, a defense against any possible attack from the rear and a rallying point in the event of defeat because the enemy had more men than him.

The first ones to attack were the Lannister, making the crossbow precede the vanguard, and Ned started to give command to the archer to string the bows again, despite the risk and nock the arrows.

Tywin watched from atop his horse, as the crossbowmen from the Reach, not needing to de-strung the strings because of the rain, were moving forward to engage the enemy longbowmen in an archery duel but the enemy longbowmen outranged the Reach’s crossbows with a shooting rate three times greater. On top of that, the muddy ground was impeding their ability to reload, because it required them to press the stirrups of their weapons into the ground, and thus slowed their rate of fire. And so, like cowards they fled from the field.

Clegane, assigned with the vanguard, charged at the enemy on horseback, but the advancing of his men was slowed by the muddy ground, the fleeing cowards and the dead bodies. The mountain clans immediately followed behind, preceding the bulk of his army.

However, right before the impact, the ground beneath them crushed, and almost all the men from the first lines fell in the revealed pits dug by the rebels. Some of Clegane’s men who managed to pass that pit engaged the enemy trying to break the wall formation of the rebels, but died in the process, even the man himself as Tywin could see from that far. Beheaded by the Umbers.

The mountain clans engaged the enemy fighting fiercely but still falling at the enemy’s hand because they weren’t as well equipped as the rebels.

However, since the vanguard failed in their tasks to break the lines, Tywin decided to try with the heavy cavalry, hoping that the shook of such a mighty force will instill fear in them, and also jump past the ditches. He waved for Stafford to lead the charge, while Kevan’s archers were advancing and will be covering the charge again.

The rebels moved back a few steps, making almost room for the jump, and Tywin saw this as an opportunity because it meant that they were afraid to engage a full charge.

Ned could see the Lannister second cavalry charge at them. And this time it was a far larger number than the vanguard. However, unlikely the first time, this time was disordered by the muddy ground and their archers, causing many casualties, because, even if the knights from the south were heavily armored, the horses not so much, getting killed or wounded in large numbers, and trapping their riders under them.

“Hold the line and have no fear men!” roared Ned, as the enemy was approaching more and more, seeing his men, get more in a tight formation welcoming the Lannister, who clashed clumsily against the wall of shields and spears, because of the lost impetus.

What seemed like a good plan, turned out in a disaster and that was making his army march with more difficult because now they also needed to overcome dead bodies. However, the rain now was making it difficult for the enemy to use the archers, and therefore they stopped shooting, but so did his, and Tywin saw Kevan sent a few men forward past the pits, to make new lines of formation with a shield wall, and spears, before engaging the enemy, that now was on one unique line.

When their lines finally met, hand-to-hand combat began. It was murderous, horrible, and cruel. From both sides.

Because of the muddy ground, the enemy was slipping down, falling at his men’s hands who were pushing the survivors inside the pits. Even the archers picked up short-range weapons joining the fray to fill the gaps. Ned could see his men held the ground and no give quarters.

The Lannister came and came, and his men kept repulsing them, filling the ditches behind with dead bodies. He even sent the reserves to fill the gaps. Ned did not even know how long it had been since the moment they started fighting, but the field was full of the dead bodies. Especially from the enemy’s side because they could not break the lines.

However, with the rain preventing them to ignite a fire, Ned couldn’t signal the riders that was waiting a few miles from the battlefield to attack, and that wasn’t good.

Tywin couldn’t believe his eyes. He was losing. His men were losing, and since they failed at breaking the rebel’s formations and getting past the lines to reach Stark, Tywin did something he never thought he would have done against the Stark.

“Sound the retreat. We are regrouping to fight another day. And in another place.” But when he turned his horse, Tywin saw a group of mounted horses come from nowhere and charge at them from the rear waving the sky-blue falcon of the Arryns, and in that moment, he understood that it was late for any retreat because they were stuck between two armies. He had to fight now.

Pulling out the sword, Tywin shouted to the men, while pointing with the sword, “Get in line! In line!” and as quickly as possible the reserves started to for the lines like a square around him. “Men at arms forward! Spearmen behind!”

The horns sounded to recall the Lannister forces that were engaging the stark, and while Glancing behind, Tywin could see them rush to his side, but the stark were following right behind.

However, it was too late to form any new line from them, as the enemy brooked their formation at full speed, and they were all exposed to the rebels. Tywin himself fell from the horse when one of the enemies collide with his, making the old lion hit the head and loose consciousness.

By the time the battle ended it was night. Two thousand of there were laying on the ground or wounded, but the Lannister were heavier. Of the thirty thousand men that came, almost half of them died on the field, while only five thousand of them fled away. The other remaining were wounded. Ned got the dead buried or burnt, and the high-ranked officers, lords, and knights were imprisoned. Tywin Lannister himself was taken prisoner, but still unconscious.  

He will grant the men a few days to recover and enjoy the victory before marching on King’s Landing, with the knowledge that his son and nephew were waiting for him on the way.

“Lord Stark. The Old lion woke up,” he heard SmallJon say as he entered his tent, and Ned nodded, tying his sword to the waist, and leaving the tent to head for the one where Lannister was being held. At the entrance, he placed ten men to guard him, because he didn’t for what happened with Jaime Lannister to happen to her too.

Upon entering, Ned saw the man's cold eyes upon him, and say, “My congratulations, Stark. You have succeeded where many have failed."

"Yes, I have, for the lions' arrogance has taken the upper hand. Just like when my son kicked the crap out of your armies."

“What are the terms of surrender?”

“Surender? What makes you think that there are terms of surrender?”

“At that the old lion got up, and while looking at him emotionless, said, “We both know that till I’m alive and breathing the Westerlands will never bend to your bastard.”

“But he isn’t a bastard, Lord Tywin. He is who he claims to be. Aegon son of Prince Rhaegar and my sister Lyanna.”

“Why would Prince Rhaegar name another son like his firstborn?”

“In fact, it wasn’t him. It was my sister who did. To honour the late brother. Do you remember that day, don’t you, Lord Tywin, when you lay the dead bodies of those innocent children at the foot of the Iron Throne wrapped in Lannister colours?”

The old lion did not react to his accusations, and so Ned continued. “The Mountain is dead, and I’ve sent his head to Dorne, but it will bring you joy to know that your plan succeeded. Your son has escaped from Riverrun.”

No matter how many victories you achieve, Stark, in the end, your rebellion will end up under the Lion's paw. I may have lost this battle, and you may have me prisoner, but do not forget that the Reach is on my side as well as the Iron Bank. The remaining Lannister will take you down."

“The Reach army had been defeated. Randyll Tarly is dead as well as his whole army thanks to your wildfire. King’s Landing will soon fall. And so, your house. But I promise you that your daughter and neither your grandchildren will suffer the Targaryen’s fate. I’m not you.”

With those words, Ned left the Old lion alone in that tent. This conversation did not go the way he had thought, but at least he got new revelation from the Lannister, and if the Iron Bank was truly on their side, it meant that the Lannister had the intention of hearing the Free Companies. Maybe the Golden Company itself. He needed to inform his boys about this new threat.

In the meantime…in Essos…

The moment they reached Astapor, Dany asked for an audience with the wise Master, and now Kraznys Mo Nakloz lead them towards the place where a contingent of Unsullied was being harbored. Of course, Dany was playing the dumb, hiding the fact that she understands the High Valyria, and so the Master was using a girl, to translate everything.

The man kept bragging about their training their loyalty and discipline and how they fear nothing and no one, to which, Ser Jorah said, “Even the bravest men fear death.”

The girl translated the words for the Master, and his reply wasn’t a kind one, however the girl saved his ass from and loose a head with her words. “My master says the Unsullied are not men. Death means nothing to them.”

“Tell this ignorant whore of a Westerner to open her eyes and watch,” the man said in High Valyrian, moving away, while Dany squeezed her fist to not unleash her dragons on this man.

“He begs you attend to this carefully, Your Grace,” Missandei said, as Kraznys called for one Unsullied to step forward, before proceeding to push shield and spear aside. Then, taking the Unsullied's knife, the Master cuts away part of his leather chest armor.

But understanding what he wanted to do, Dany immediately took a step forward, saying “Tell the good master there is no need.”

However the man ignored her, grabbing hold of the man's exposed nipple, and saying in high Valyria, “She's worried about their nipples? Doers the dumb bitch know we've cut off their balls?”

Kraznys slices off the man's nipple, throwing it to the ground, and the Unsullied did not flinch.

“My master points out that men don't need nipples,” the girl said as Kraznys replaces the armor strap, and returns the soldier's arms to the ready, dismissing him, who thanked the Master.

Kraznys turns around to face her, while the Unsullied soldier steps back into formation, and the girl translated, “To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave marts with a silver mark, find a new-born, and kill it before its mother's eyes. This way, my master says, we make certain there is no weakness left in them.

And a gasp escaped her lips in horror, “You take a babe from its mother's arms, kill it as she watches, and pay for her pain with a silver coin?”

“My master would like you to know that the silver is paid to the baby's owner, not the mother.”

So much cruelty to make the perfect soldier as they will think. However, tired of his insult and the stories, Daenerys asked, “How many do you have to sell?”

And Kraznys holds up eight fingers, while the girl said, “Eight thousand. Master Kraznys asks that you please hurry. Many other buyers are interested.”

After that Kraznys left with the girl as the Unsullied make way before returning in formation, and Dany exchanged a look with Ser Jorah.

They were walking along the shore heading back to their ship where Lady Ashara with Arya and the dragons were waiting for them, but Dany still couldn’t believe all this. “Eight thousand dead babies.”

“The Unsullied are a means to an end.”

“Once I own them, these men...”

“They're not men. Not anymore, Princess,” the knight of Bear Island retorted.

“Once I own an army of slaves, what will I be?”

“Do you think these slaves will have better lives serving Kraznys and men like him or serving you?” Dany asked, while stopping for a moment to look at the children that were playing and sadness took over her again because she won’t see that happens to children of her own. In that moment a little girl, looked at her with sealed lips in a smile, bending down and tossing a wooded ball to herself.

“You'll be fair to them. You won't mutilate them to make a point. You won't order them to murder babies. You'll see they're properly fed and sheltered,” Ser Jorah continued, as she played with the girl. “A great injustice has been done to them. Closing your eyes will not undo it.”

The little girl then motioned Dany to pick it up and open, which Dany did with a smile, only for someone to knock the ball from her hand and knocking her down. Jorah immediately grabbed her assaulter, the man and wrestles him to the ground.

In that moment, the ball opened only a few inches from her face, and Dany saw a chittering, shiny scorpion crawls out and unfolds itself into display, before rushing towards her to attack her. Thanks, the Gods someone killed him with a knife, and Dany saw the little girl hiss at them, revealing her twisted form. A warlock, before disappearing. They will never let her be it seems. Even after Qarth had fallen.

Turning her attention to the man that had saved her, Dany said, “I owe you my life, Ser.”

“The honour is mine, my queen,” he replied, lowering his hood, while a gasp escaped the bear knight.

He lowers his hood.

You know this man?”

 “Aye. I know him as one of the greatest fighters the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen and as the Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard.”

And Dany immediately took a step closer to Ser Jorah, while the man approached them, “I’m no longer in the service of the Usurper but in the service of the one true King, Aegon Targaryen son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. And I was sent by him to find you and protect you Daenerys Stormborn,” the man said, kneeling, as past her lips escaped the name of her husband. The name of her love. Jon.

That night she did not sleep, staying awake till the Hour of the wolf, while Ser Barristan told her everything that happened since her leave, and that Jon sent him here after the fall of Harrhenal. He now was about to wage war against the Lannister and the Tyrell, now united.

This news was scaring her because they had more men than the North now, despite Ser Jorah reassuring her that battle had been won against greater odds, citing Robert’s Rebellion where Rhaegar had been defeated or the many Dornish wars.

But that wasn’t enough to put her heart at ease and locking herself in a cabin of the ship with only Ghost next to her, Dany used the candles to try and reach for him. It was risky, as last time blood came from her nose, but she needed to see him. Make sure he was well and alive.

He was sitting under a tree, cleaning his sword while drinking wine to ease the burden of so many deaths on his shoulder. When he made that plan, Jon was sure that they would have succeeded in the night attack, but that weapon, or whatever it was…Jon never expected for it be there.

“Jon?” he suddenly heard his name being called, and jumping to his feet, he saw her appear from behind the tree.

“Dany? Are you…” but he stopped remembering that she was using magic to visit him now. Swallowing, he said, “What are you doing here?”

“Ser Barristan informed me that you were getting ready to fight the Lannister. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He smiled, happy that the old knight found her. Jon had sent him when he was still at Harrhenal before they even got word about Stannis's defeat, but his joy turned in sour because she was still far from his arms.

“What happened?”

“There have been some battles. Many men died. I made a plan. I thought it would have worked, but...but...I failed.”

“I’m sorry,” came her voice. “But that is the price of rulership, Jon. You knew it when you agreed. It is the same price that was for Magthol.”

That made him lose it and burst. “I never wanted to be King. Never asked for this burden. And where were you when it happened, hu?!” he spat the words more harsher than it had meant, and he immediately apologise. “Forgive me. It’s the guilt that speaks.”

But Dany did not reply. She was looking down. She did not seem mad, but rather seem to bear the same guilty he did. Sighing, Jon opened his mouth to speak, but she took him ahead, saying instead, “You are right. I should have been with you. We should have been with you.”

“Dany-“

“But I don’t regret my choices. I sailed the Narrow sea to Qarth because I wanted to avenge our dead child and to quench whatever threat was lumbering on our family. And I did it the warlocks are dead, and Qarth had bent the knee to me. They gave me ships and I intend to use them to bring an army to Westeros. An army for you, Jon."

"What? An army?" gasped Jon in disbelief.

“Yes. Unsullied from Astapor. Eight Thousand spears. I have the intention of buying them and then sail to Volantis before joining you in Westeros,” she said, not leaving him much room to debate it seems as she had made up her mind.

“What? Volantis? Why?”

“Words reached my ears that there is a boy with the Golden Company who claims to be Aegon the son of Elia and your father.”

And at hearing that his mouth fell open, not believing his ears. His brother Aegon, the one that everyone believed to have been killed by the Mountain after the fall of King’s Landing, was alive and well in Essos?

“Lady Ashara says that only one man can tell us if he is or isn’t. Oberyn Martell because she had informed him about this before we left Westeros. I will land in Volantis and see who is. See if there is any traits of Targaryen in him. If he is a dragon or an impostor.”

And upon hearing that Jon tensed, while a shadow of fear lurked upon his mind and heart. Wetting his lips, Jon asked, “How did she learn these news?”

“Lady Ashara said it was in King’s Landing. The Spider paid her a visit after Lord Stark got arrested by Joffrey. He revealed her that all this time he had hidden the boy from Robert’s sight and had the intention of replacing Joffrey with Aegon.”

“But he did not know about me,” Jon retorted looking south towards King’s Landing, before smiling bitterly.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m fighting a war for nothing. Aegon is the first born and he is the rightful king.”

“If he is Aegon, but we are not sure. No one is. While you, on the other hand. You are. You are the song of Ice and Fire,” Dany said, making him chuckle. “Why are you chuckling? I saw it. I heard it from your father’s lips.”

“What makes you think that what you saw it was me and not him? That what you saw wasn’t a trick from the warlocks,” Jon returned, looking her straight in the eyes, and Dany opened and closed her mouth a few times, before saying. “I need to go.” And with like the wind she disappeared, but not before saying to him, “I love you,” while Jon did not have the chance to say it back.

Chapter Text

When morning came, they had a quick breakfast, during which Arya complained for not being allowed to leave the ship because Dany thought that Astapor was too dangerous. And knowing Arya, she would have got in trouble the moment she was in.

But after that, they left the ship heading to meet the master, with Ser Barristan and Ghost to protect her, while Arya, Nymeria and Ashara were staying back on the ship. She was grateful for the woman’s presence, but Dany knew soon or later she will leave because she wanted to see her daughter. And how can she blame her for wanting to leave her side because of that? Even Dany would give anything to see her mother. Only once.

However, now her full attention was on this deal, exposing her demands.

“All? Did this one's ears mishear, Your Grace?” asked the girl in disbelief at her request.

“They did not. I want to buy them all,” Dany replied with a stern expression, and the girl translated to the Master, with his reply being in denial and full of insults.

“She can't afford them. The slut thinks that she can flash her tits and make us give her whatever she wants.” But of course, the girl tried to save the arrogant man’s ass with proper words. “There are eight thousand Unsullied in Astapor. Is this what you mean by all?”

 “Yes. Eight thousand. And the ones still in training as well.”

The man of course shook his head, “If they fail on the battlefield, they will shame Astapor.”

“Master Kraznys says they cannot sell half-trained boys. If they fail on the battlefield, they will bring shame upon all of Astapor.”

But Dany stood her ground. “I will have them all or take none. Many will fall in battle. I'll need the boys to pick up the swords they drop.”

To which Kraznys said, “The slut cannot pay for all of this.” With the girl immediately saving his ass. “Master Kraznys says you cannot afford this.”

“The ships in the harbour aren’t hers. I could give her three hundred Unsullied for the dog that is with her ships will buy her a thousand Unsullied, no more. And this is because I like the curve of her ass.”

“Master Kraznys is ready to give you three hundred Unsullied for your animal because he is generous,” the girl said, and Dany glanced at the direwolf, who bared his fangs, and so she scratched his head in reassurance, before looking back to the man, and with intertwined hands say. “The direwolf isn’t part of the deal. However, my dragons are. I'll give you one in exchange of the Unsullied. I’m sure he is more worth than ten thousand men.”

The girl’s mouth fell open, before swallowing and translating the words to the master, who was completely shocked by her offer.

Your grace. With all due respect but you will need the dragons more than an army of slaves. “Aegon had barely ten thousand, but he won the Seven kingdoms with dragons.”

However, Dany did not react to his word, taking a step closer to the master. “Do we have a deal? One dragon for ten thousand Unsullieds?”

“Three dragons,” Kraznys said in the common tongue while also showing with the fingers, but Dany stood her ground. “One.”

“Two.”

“One.” And this time Kraznys consulted with the other two men, before finally speaking up.

“They want the biggest one.”

“Done.”

“Done.”

“I'll take you as well, now. You'll be Master Kraznys' gift to me. A token of a bargain well struck,” Dany said to the girl, who seemed surprised, before swallowing and translating the words to the master, and Kraznys nodded, before they left. However, outside Dany stopped, turning to the old knight, saying. “You are a good adviser, Ser Barristan, and I value your advice, but if you ever question me in front of strangers again, you'll be advising someone else. Is that understood?”

And the old knight nodded, giving a look of apologise, before Dany walked away with the girl behind her l.

“Do you have a name?”

“This one's name is Missandei, Your Grace.”

“Do you have a family? A mother and a father you'd return to if you had the choice?”

“No, Your Grace. This one has no place where to go. This one brothers had been made in Unsullied.”

“Then you will come with me,” Dany said, as they kept walking. “Tell me something, Missandei. I offered water to one of the slaves dying on the Walk of Punishment. Do you know what he said to me? 'Let me die.' Why?”

“There are no masters in the grave, Your Grace.”

“Is it true what Master Kraznys told me about the Unsullied? About their obedience?”

“All questions have been taken from them. They obey, that is all. Once they are yours, they are yours. They will fall on their swords if you command it.”

“And what about you? You know that wars await me in the future. You may go hungry. You may fall sick. You may be killed.”

“Valar morghūlis.”

“Yes, all men must die. But we are not men,” Dany said, glancing at the girl, before stopping, and introducing, her to the direwolf. “This is Ghost. He is a direwolf from Westeros. He is my husband but decided to join me on this journey.”

The girl seemed to be scared, while the direwolf curious, before Dany urged the girl. “Go on. Touch him. He won’t attack you.”

And Missandei did it. Rising her hand and touching the soft fur of the direwolf. “Hello Ghost.”

When they went back to the ship after having bought something from the market, Dany introduced the girl to those who were with her.

“Arya. Lady Ashara. May I present you Missandei of Naath. My new advisor.”

And the Naathi girl offered them a shy smile, with Arya immediately taking ahead of the woman. “I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell. Pleased to meet you. Come.”

The Stark little girl led her to the table, where Dany joined them, but not before hearing Ashara ask, “It is done?”

“Yes. In the marrow, I will hand them the due in exchange of the army.”

“And that would be?”

“A dragon. Morghul.”

“Princess-“

“Don’t start. I’ve already got the lecture from Ser Barristan. I made my mind and there is nothing you can say that will make me change it,” Dany cut her moving to another table, and sitting alone, but heard the woman approach. So, she continued. “I will give them a dragon and they will give me an army. And Army to help Jon in the conquest of Westeros.”

“Why are you doing all this?” the woman asked, and Dany gave her a confused look. “You said that you can’t have children. What are you fighting for if that legacy will be gone once you are dead?”

“I told you that we will put Jon on the throne that is his by right. Jon will continue House Targaryen.” And voicing those words hurt more than a knife that was twisting in the flesh.

“And are you ready to let him go? Let him start a new life, even though you know he wouldn’t want to do it without you?” the woman asked, but this time Dany didn’t have the words to voice them. “If he is anything like Ned Stark then he won’t betray the oaths he made before a heart tree.”

“Didn’t Ned Stark betray yours by marrying a Tully before the seven?”

“Ned never made an oath to me before the Old Gods. And what happened between us was a youthful mistake led by the alcohol. We danced, we drank, and we ended up in the same bed. But I won’t deny that moment turned out in more deep feelings, broke by a war and the death of my brother.”

“Ser Arthur Dayne. The Sword of the Morning. My Brother told me he was the most skilled fighter in the Seven Kingdom at that time and the deadliest of my father’s Kingsguard.”

“He was. Arthur was born for the sword. The perfect knight one would say. But even the perfect knight has his flaws.”

“Flaws?”

“Yes. The blind loyalty. Not intervening even against those who are above them, despite knowing that it is wrong. None of the Kingsguard stepped in when your father burned those who opposed-"

Whereupon Dany immediately asked, "Have you ever seen it?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Ashara sighed. "I was Elia's lady-in-waiting. And I attended many of his displays of madness because that was what the Mad King liked." Dany swallowed, feeling her skin shudder at the very thought, although what she did with the Dragons was not much different. Or what she will do. "And none of the so-called knights ever stopped your father, while after burning men, raped your mother."

And she clutched the cup in her hand, feeling her body tremble and tears fall. Her poor mother. Forced into that torture beside a monster, and when she was finally freed from his presence, the Gods deprived her of the possible happy life to give it to her when she was born.

"What happened is in the past, princess. Now you must look forward. To the future."

"And how can I do that with my father's shadow hovering over me?"

"By showing the world that you are not him. That even though his blood runs through your veins, you are different than him. That you are your mother's daughter. That you are what your brother would have been if things had gone differently."

A slight smile appeared on her lips as she took a sip.

“Have you had any more attacks from the Warlocks?"

And Dany shook her head. “I thought that with the destruction of the House the threat will end.”

“So did I. But their minions are spread all over the world. However, I’m sure that it will come the day when they will no longer hunt you.”

“And what about the man in Valyria? The one that calls himself Azor Ahai?”

“I don’t know. I told you that is something I’ve never been aware of. I always draw the prayers on their backs without any question. No one of the sailors mentioned him.”

“Whoever he is, he wants my dragons.”

“Everyone will want them. They are fire-made flesh. They are power. And that in the wrong hands would make havoc,” the woman said, and Dany agreed with her. "I’m leaving, Daenerys."

“What?” her eyes shot up. “So soon?”

“I’ve already delayed the journey back home too much. I need to see her,” the woman said, and Dany sighed, looking down. “One day our roads will cross again, but till then, I wish you good fortune, Princess Daenerys.”

And after that, she left the cabin and undoubtedly their ship. For a moment Dany wondered if she should send Arya with her back to Westeros, but that thought left her in a heartbeat. So, approaching the table, Dany joined the two who were deep in a conversation, mainly led by Arya, who was entertaining the girl with stories from Winterfell, the same stories she had already heard and loved.

The next day, Dany was ready to meet the Master in the plaza. But before that, she had two things to do. First talk with the Sark girl.

Knocking at the door, Arya immediately opened it, and Dany saw that she was already woke, and ready for the day while practicing with the sword.

“I see you are awake,” Dany smiled, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to her. “Today we are leaving the city to go back to Westeros. Your father needs us. Your brothers need us.”

A smile appeared on her lips, and Dany looking at her with a questioning look, said, “I thought you wanted to see the world.”

“I did, but, but…I think I needed this trip to realise how much I miss and love my family,” Arya said, and Dany smiled even though was saddened by the words. Family. A family that she wasn’t part of. “You are my family too, Dany,” Arya reassured her, wrapping her arms around her waist, and Dany returned her hug tightly while feeling her tears fall. “Now enough,” the little girl complained, breaking, and Dany giggled.

A pair of great doors open and Daenerys with her party entered the plaza where all the Unsullied were gathered. But not only them. The people of Astapor, and Kraznys were there too. The carriage carrying the cage with Morghul was being led to the square where the Good Masters were waiting.

“The master says they are untested. He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and there, cities ripe for sacking. Should you take captives, the masters will buy the healthy ones and for a good price. And who knows? In ten years, some of the boys you send them may be Unsullied in their turn. Thus all shall prosper.”

And as Missandei entrained her with those words, Dany freed her dragon who spread his wings wide, screeching. Taking hold of the chain that technically was meant to keep him down even thought Morghul was far too strong, Dany approached Kraznys.

They exchange whip with chain, and Dany saw the man smiles greedily. “Is it done, then? They belong to me?”

“It is done. You hold the whip,” Missandei said Kraznys valyrian words.

So, Dany turned, ignoring the insult he had addressed her and the screeching. It was time to reveal herself. “Unsullied!” and they came to attention. “Forward march!” and the unsullied obeyed. “Halt!”

“Tell the bitch her beast won't sit still.”

At that Dany turned to the man, starting to speak in Valyrian. “A dragon is not a slave.”

“You speak Valyrian?”

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.” Turning to the army, Dany shouted, “Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!”

An Unsullied break out of formation, piercing a slave master through the heart with his spear, as Kraznys face turns in fear, and he started shouting. “I am your master. Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!”

“Dracarys.” And Morghul unleashes his fire upon the master, who screamed as he burned in agony. Then he turned the attention to the walls and the other buildings while the Unsullied were attacking the soldiers. She spotted Ser Barristan shielding Arya from the sight, but she knew that the little girl had seen this horror and once they will leave behind this place, she will have to talk to her.

Once it was done, the courtyard was filled with smoke and charred bodies, while her companions reached her. But Dany instead returned her attention to the Unsullied, who were back in formation, and when she spotted a white horse appear Dany mounted it, riding through the lines.

“Unsullied! You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?”

One Unsullied begins tapping his spear rhythmically in the sand. Soon others join him, and more still until the sound becomes thunderous and unanimous. Dany looked around, only to see a woman in red appear in the far distance. She looked to be young and…evil. A warlock?

Volantis….

Volantis. Called by everyone the first daughter because it was the first Valyrian colony. It was the oldest of the Free Cities, founded after the destruction of the Old Empire of Ghis. Its story had always fascinated him, and how the Valyrian were smart in where they built it.

He would have loved to enjoy the beauty and the pleasures of this city if only his mind wasn’t elsewhere. Still in Braavos. In that brothel where he thought he had seen someone. An old face from his past. But it couldn’t be her. She disappeared after…after what his father did to her. After what his father forced him to do.

“My Lord. Look,” he heard someone say, and Looking forward, Tyrion spotted the mighty fleet of Volantis. “It seems as if they are getting ready for war.”

“Indeed,” Tyrion agreed, taking another sip, and putting on the cap on his flask, before getting ready to get down from the ship.

Once it stopped, they got down from the ship and headed for the market to maybe buy some horses and head for Myr by ship hopping to meet them on the road. Tyrion actually hoped that in this city he may also see his uncle Gerion. He was his favorite uncle, and when news about his disappearance reached the Rock, Tyrion had cried.

As they were walking through the markets, they heard news that the Golden Company south of Volon Therys after Triarch Malaquo Maegyr had closed the delta road to Volantis. So, Tyrion immediately went to find the horses, five of them, bought twice their price of course, and after paying for someone to lead them there, they left Volantis.  

It did not take them long to reach the so-called town, and stopping his horse, Tyrion saw the many golden tents of the so-called company. The most famous of Essos. Founded by Bittersteel more than a hundred years ago.

“Halt! Who are you?”

“Tyrion of House Lannister. I come from Westeros and I’m here to hire your company in the wars to come,” Tyrion said, leaning.

The man nodded, letting them pass, and Tyrion, urging the horse forward, entered drawing immediately the attention of the men. At least those who were on the way, near that tents. Those in the backward instead were busy at drinking, training, or fucking because the camp whores were always around. Or maybe they weren’t really camp whores.

The moment they got to the main tent, Tyrion got down from the horse with the help of one of the Lannister guards, despite the laughs of some soldiers, before being led inside the tent where the commander seems to hold up a meeting.

“Wait here,” the man said, moving to the table, and all of those around turned to him.

“Tyrion Lannister? Welcome to the Golden Company,” the man that was undoubtedly in charge said, leaning up. “I’m Harrold Strickland. Commander of the Company.”

“Then It’s you who I need to confer with,” Tyrion said, approaching, and taking notice of all those who were there. There were all towering over him in that moment, but no one of them scared him. However, it was the boy next to Strickland who drew his attention.

“Then confer.”

“I’m here on behalf of the King of Westeros, Joffrey Baratheon, to hire your company for the wars to come,” Tyrion said with offering hands, as Strickland exchanged a look with the red-headed man next to him. “The king is ready to fill you with all the gold you want and above that, he is ready to give you land. Land once Lost. Or new lands if you will ask.”

“Gold and Land,” Strickled said out loudly. “You heard him, Captains? Rich like a Lannister we will be.” And those around laughed.

“How can we trust the word of a Lannister?” came the voice of the young man with blue hairs that was standing next to the Commander.

“And you are?”

“Young Griff we call him. And he is my son,” spoke the man standing at Strickland’s right. “And I’m Griff.”

“Well Young Griff.  I’m sure you have never been in Westeros before, but anyone from the Seven Kingdoms will tell you that a Lannister always pays his debts. And if you fight for us, we will owe you a debt.”

“Well. You heard him, Capitan. Give the orders to get ready,” Strickland said, and Tyrion took that as a sign of acceptance. “We will use the Volanteen fleet to carry on the armies. And we will land in the Stormlands.”

“Stormlands? Why? Because we made a promise to a fellow brother and just like the Lannister we pay our debts,” Strickland replied, and Tyrion looked with suspiciousness at the man, while glancing at the other two. The captains left, and Tyrion did the same, yet not liking this plans of them, because he was expecting.

Maidenpool…

They were only a few miles away from Maidenpool. Garlan sent some scouts ahead to make sure no one was there, but no one of them had returned with news. Not yet at least. He had no news about Tarly either and he didn't like that at all.

When the town appeared on their sight, Garlan saw one of the scouts riding fast towards them, and he called a stop to the march. "Halt!"

The man stopped his horse in front of his, saying, "Maidenpool is filled with men and has its gates locked, while another army is encamped a few miles north from the town, blocking our way to Harrhenal. I counted at least fifteen thousand men. All on foot."

"They want to trap us between two armies," said Ser Elwood Harte. "If we start besieging the city, the army outside will outflank and surround us. If we go pass the city and engage the army outside, the city will send the forces and attack us from the rear."

"I know. But the Hand of the King awaits our arrival at Harrhenal. He may be already besieging the castle. We must reach it by any means. Even over their dead bodies. We will deal with them on our own terms," Garlan replied, but the knight pressed on. "I must insist, Ser Garlan. We should go back to King's Landing or go to Brindlewood. Join Lord Tarly. March on Harrhenal from that way."

"No. We can’t. It will take too much. We will proceed as planned," Garlan said, before shouting, "March!" striking his horse with his heels and beginning to march.

The moment they reached the city, Garlan immediately gave the order for the men to prepare for the siege, blocking the way for the enemy coming from the north, but also making sure that they can't outflank them, sending some archers on the hills. Getting the men into position, he rode to the city under the white banner to offer terms of surrender and peace to the enemy but never forgetting what awaited him a few miles further north.

Urging his horse forward, Garlan rode to the gates, waving high the white banner, and seeing the man that were defending the walls, getting in position, knocking the arrows and being ready. Undoubtedly not trust him. And they were right.

Halting the horse, Garlan took a look at the defenses. Archers and swordsmen were standing on the red walls ready to fight them back, and Garlan knew that approaching the walls it will be hard.

“People of Maidenpool. I am Ser Garlan Tyrell, son of Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord Paramount of the Reach and Master of the Coin. I was sent here by his grace, King Joffrey Baratheon to offer you terms of peace.”

“Peace?” laughed one spitting down the wall.

“King Joffrey is ready to forgive all Maidenpool and more. If you bend the knee, he is ready to make Maidenpool the capital of the region, and House Mooton Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.”

“Now it is this that the Lions are offering after having sacked the town on their march?” someone said, and he could tell it was someone from the smallfolk. “Here is your piece,” the man spat, “Buried with those who the Lannister killed.”

“Think men. We will breach your walls. And you will all die,” Ser Garlan spoke the words loud enough before turning the horse and riding back to the army.

Five days of siege.  Yet no sign of surrender or any sight of the enemy’s army coming to break the siege. It was as if they did not care about Maidenpool at all. And Garlan didn’t know how to make them fall into his trap. Whoever was leading them, was a hard-hearted man. Otherwise, there was no explanation for it.

While they were breaking their fast early in the morning, Garlan asked to the Lord in charge of the night shift, while taking a sip, “Any news from Lord Tarly?”

“Yes. While I was coming to here, a raven from his camp came to us. It was carrying a note with the hunting man’s seal.” And the Lord gave him the scroll, as Garlan read it quickly, and smiling. “Good news.”

“Aye. Lord Tarly had been attacked by Robb Stark and Jon Snow. They attempted to make a sortie against the camp, failing miserably. The Starks lost five thousand men to Wildfire. The Stark boys are now in his grasp. Lord Tarly has left Brindlewood and is now marching on Harrhenal.”

“He is disobeying the orders,” another man said, and Garlan nodded, but in that moment, another man came in, and while panting said, “They are approaching.”

“Who?”

“The army camped miles away from Maidenpool. They are coming,” the man said, and Garlan smiled. Finally. They were growing roots in there.

“You heard men? Get the soldiers ready for battle,” Garlan said, finishing his goblet, before nodding at his squires to help him put on the armour.

“What about the siege?”

“Don’t relent. We need to keep them busy after all,” Garlan said, while his squires tied the armour, and Ser Elwood left.

Once ready, Garlan went outside too, seeing the seasoned knights in charge of the army alongside him getting the men ready for the battle. Getting on the horse, Garlan rode forward, approaching the wags disposed as a blockade to the enemy and slow down should they pass.

Five lines of archers with small groups were made, while right behind came the men at arms from the Reach. Glancing behind, Garlan said, pointing the finger, I want three lines of archers in the rears behind us, and protected by a wall of shields.

“Archers! Knock the arrows and be ready!” Garlan shoot, taking the matters in hand as the enemy was slowly approaching. They were put of rage for now, but Garlan knew the perfect moment for when they will be at reach. Especially because they were against the wind that was blowing from the north. They could do nothing but wait for the enemy to came at reach.

Hours later…

Once they had engaged the enemy coming from the north and managed to hold them at bay for a few hours, they got attacked by a contingent of light riders. But they were many. At least five thousand men swept through their rear-guard and broke into the ranks that he had built up for the battle.

It was bloody and merciless, with many death, but with one end. It resulted in his army being surrounded as the men of Maidenpool came out of the town to join the battles. They were completely outnumbered or almost. So, Garlan had no choice but to surrender.

Now he was in chains inside the town, one day later, with the enemy celebrating the victory or whatever they would call it. And he wondered. Was this how his life would end? In chains like a dog? With no chance to defend himself? It wasn't the end he had dreamed. He may not be as ambitious as Loras or seeking glory. But it wasn't the end he was expecting.

Suddenly he heard the doors open and Garlan saw the two brothers enter. Or perhaps they were not. It didn't matter. "Robb Stark. Jon Snow."

"Ser Garlan," the Stark greeted him, placing a plate on the floor, and Garlan quickly took it because he was starving.

"My men?"

"They bent. As you should have done. You bet on the wrong horse, Ser," Robb said, while the brother not even a word.

"My father did," Garlan retorted, full mouth. "He would have given her to you if you were a king. Well, now it doesn’t matter. Joffrey will die soon, won’t he?”

“He will. But now it’s up to you to decide with whom to side, Ser Galan,” said Jon Snow. “You are the future of House Tyrell. Not your father, and from what I know of your brother, he won’t either be. So think careful, Ser.”

With those words the boy left, while Robb Stark leaned against a wall, with crossed arms. “I love your sister, Ser Garlan. And I have the intention of marrying her. I know that she wishes that too. So I’m asking you to not force my hand, because if you will still be my enemy in the marrow, I won’t held my hand back.”

Garlan did not reply, finishing his meal instead, but taking in consideration all the options. “Is Lord Tarly dead?”

“Yes. But his son is alive. He is a prisoner along with the Old Lion. My father is now marching on King’s Landing up the Gold Road.”

After making him aware of the plan, Robb Stark was about to leave, but Garlan stopped him, “I accept.”

Golden Toth...

They reached Golden Toth after a tough fight and ride while running away from the Rivermen, and in the process, he even was wounded by two arrows. One in the left shoulder and the other in the right side. But thankfully they weren’t bad, and the Maester of the Castel reassured him that soon he will be able to go. Because he really needed to go. He needed to join his father.

Upon entering in the Great Hall to dine with the lady, Jaime saw Bronn entertain the lady Alysanne with tales of his many adventures.  

“And here he comes, the young Lion of the Rock, alive and well,” the Sellsword said, raising his goblet and the lady immediately got up to greet him with a reverence. “Ser Jaime.”

But he motioned her to sit, “Please. There is no need for that.” Sitting on the opposing chair, Jaime said, “I see that Ser Bronn is entreating you with his adventures.”

To which the sellsword said, “Ser?”

“Aye. You are a Ser now,” Jaime nodded while taking a sip. “Any news from my father?”

“Oh! Yes, I almost forgot. Maester Beldon gave me this scroll this morning. It comes from Deep Den.”

And Jaime took it, reading the scroll quickly. It was concerning his father and the Lannister army. “Stark won the battle. My father was taken prisoner as well as many of the Lord and knights from the Westerlands.” Folding it back and placing the scroll on the table, Jaime said taking another sip. “They most likely will head to King’s Landing.”

“And you want to go there,” Bronn said, but Jaime shook his head, taking another sip.

“We don’t have enough men to fight them,” Jaime said, but hiding his true intention from the lady because even though her House was loyal to the Rock, with how this war was turning and the enemy coming there, she could betray his plans to the Stark. “Well, I think that I still need some rest before I depart for the Rock.” He got up, taking his leave. “My lady. Ser Bronn.”

“Ser Jaime,” they both said, even though from the sellsword sounded more like a mock than how it did from the girl.

While returning to his chambers, the sellsword came on his step, joining his walk. “When do we leave?” And Jaime gave him a confused look. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I spent enough time with the Lannister to know when they are going to do something stupid. And you are going to do something stupid.”

“And you are going to help me?”

“Aye. Until I won’t get my castle. A big, beautiful Castle.”

“Then be ready,” was the only thing Jaime said, before entering his room alone. He didn’t know how all this story will go, but one thing he knew. And that was that he will reach King’s Landing before the enemy will get there.

Chapter Text

King’s Landing 

It was none when they reached the capital now defended by twelve thousand men with the bulk made of Reachmen loyal to House Tyrell.  At least that was according to Ser Garlan. But that did not mean that they were ready to surrender,  and Jon knew besieging the city will be an arduous task especially if the citizens would side with the Lannister. 

However, he also had a plan to sneak men inside with the cover of the night,  but before that he will follow the peaceful way and offer the terms of surrender. 

He halted his horse before the gates under the white banner, upon which walls the archers had already drawn their bows and were ready to shoot him. He took a good glance before addressing them clearly and loudly. "Men of King’s Landing. There is no need for this fight. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to save you. I'm here to save you from a madman that is nothing but the offspring of a queen and a knight who have broken their oaths. Oaths sworn before Gods and men."

They seem to mumble between themselves and Jon tried to push further, calling out the one that is his true enemy. 

"Joffrey Baratheon isn’t neither a king neither a true Baratheon!” yet still nothing. “Come out and face me Joffrey! Come out you cowardly bastard!" But no answer came from the inside. "You know. I expected more from someone who is supposed to be Jaime Lannister. I heard your father was very skilled when he was your age. But maybe his son prefers to hide under his mother's skirt." Yet still no sight of any Lannister in question on the walls. 

"Lies!" Came the voice of a woman, and Jon saw her appear. Dowager queen Cersei Lannister yet without her precious son. "Lies spread by an ambitious bastard who knows that he will get nothing from life. No woman would ever lay with him and, certainly, no man of King’s Landing will follow him."

"If I'm saying Lies, why don't you ask your son to come out from his hiding and prove that they are as such? If my words aren't true the Gods will never be on my side.

But the woman laughed in his face, "Half the gold of Casterly Rock for whoever brings me the Bastard's head." And Jon managed to avoid a bolt from a crossbow in time.

"You are breaking the rules, men. Attacking under the white banner is against the rule of warfare.  And I will treat you as such." Turning his horse,  Jon rode away, thankfully without any scratch.

The moment he was back, Jon entered the tent, and heard his uncle say, "Did you have luck?"

"She was on the walls. Joffrey did not have the guts to show up. I challenged him, but like a coward, he didn't come out."

"Maybe he is dead. After all, you said that Domeric got him," Roose Bolton said, but his uncle shook his head.

"Tywin Lannister said he isn't."

"Doesn't matter. Get the siege weapons in position, Lord Stark.  We are going to breach those walls."

"It will take weeks to breach them. Those walls are very thick."

"Doesn't matter. No one can help them now. The few men from the Westerlands won't attack us while we still have Tywin, while the Reach, at least for now, are on our side."

"Then we will start at dusk and continue all night," Lord Stark said and Bolton nodded, leaving. 

"He is there, and Garlan is on their side now," Margaery said, hugging herself while looking outside the balcony. Her room was facing the city and therefore she could see the enemy besieging the walls.

"He is. But Cersei won't touch us. She knows that the ten thousand men left behind by Tywin Lannister are from the Reach, that more than half of the city watch is made of Reachmen, and hurting us would mean having to deal with an inner civil war. Not to mention that the small folk love you and will riot if you die."

"Then we should do something."

"I have already done it. I sent a man in secret outside the Walls to find Garlan and give him a message for the boy. For Jon Snow or whatever his name is."

"And let me guess. My hand in exchange for opening the gates," Margaery said, sulking, crossing her legs and arms. If it was a different situation she would have been happy but not when she had feelings for someone else. "I can't do it, grandmother.  Not this time. For the good of the House, I accepted to marry Renly,  then Joffrey.  Now no more."

"But you always wanted to be queen."

"I did. I do. But I cannot do it this time. I can't do this to Robb. I can't marry his brother. Not to mention that he is already married to a girl that he loves and I’m sure he won’t set her aside for me."

"Married before the Old Gods not the new. The Septon won’t accept him as king if he will follow the Old Gods. He won’t acknowledge his marriage to the so-called girl.” But she didn’t counter those words, feeling her grandmother lean, and grab her hand. "You are a smart and beautiful girl, Margaery. No man can resist you. I’m sure neither Jon Snow will be able. And there is no better match and sharper mind for a queen than you.”

Margery sat there in silence, while her mother started to teach her how to get a man like that, but her mind was elsewhere. Far away. With a different wolf.

The rebels continued to attack the city walls with their siege weapons past the hour of the walls, and no one was sleeping. However, now the crashes were more rare.

Her uncle, now made Hand of the King was holding a war council inside the great hall that was out of reach, because no enemy ship was in the bay, however, she didn’t wholly trust the Redwyn or the Tyrell men inside those walls. What she trusted were the hundred red clocks in the keep with the order to protect them.

“We need to think about what to do. The walls will withstand for moths, but one day they will breach and the enemy will get inside. When that will happen there will be no quarters.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked the old Tyrell, a man who shouldn’t even be there because of his incompetence. But the crown needed the Tyrell's gold and men. 

“The only possibility.”

“Are you thinking of surrendering?"

“Yes. I don’t see any other outcome. We have sent out three armies, and one of them joined the rebels. Your father is his prisoner, and Lord Tarly is dead. House Lannister has no army at the moment, and even if there are some surviving men they won’t be enough to break the siege.”

“I will never give up my throne!” Joffrey roared. “I crushed Stannis. The people know that I saved the city.”

“Your grandfather saved the city. The Lannister men are the heroes of the battle, not you. And now he is a prisoner and the men dead on the fields of the Riverlands,” her uncle said, and Cersei could see her son getting enraged by this precision. So she took hold of his hand. 

“The King is tired. He needs some rest.”

“I’m. Not. Tired!” Joffrey growled, but she ignored him, nodding to Ser Meryn Tharnt to take him away.

Once she was left alone with the small, very small council, Cersei stated, “We won’t surrender. There are still men in the reach, aren’t there, Lord Tyrell?”

“Yes, but-”

“Good. Then you will take a ship and sail to Oldtown. From there you will master the reserves and come here. I know it will take longer to come in our help but I have a plan on how to buy time,” Cersei cut him off, before turning her attention back to her uncle. “Dorne still did not side. We will make sure that they will be on ours.”

“And who do you intend to send to Dorne?” asked Kevan.

“You, uncle.”

“Me? I’m the Hand-”

“Yes. You are the Hand, and as the Hand of the King, you must do what your King commands. And he commands you to sail to Dorne and bring the Martell army here. Osfryd Kettleblack will take charge of the defenses of the city.”

“I won’t leave the city and my king.”

“You will, Ser. Or I will have your head.”

“You can’t. If you do, my men will turn on you,” countered her uncle, showing how the lion even if living under her father’s shadow was still alive and roaring when it needed. But it wasn’t enough to intimidate her. 

“You want the Rock uncle, don’t you? The King will reward you with that title if you succeed in this.”

“That title is Tywin’s.”

“We both know that my father will die soon in their hands, and Join my mother and Jaime in the other life. Tommen will become Lord of Storm’s End after the war is won and we both know that no one will follow Tyrion.”

Her uncle took a moment to consider the offer, before nodding and she left, satisfied with what she got, but having no intention of keeping fate to those promises because the Rock belonged to her children. And Myrcell will become Lady of the Rock one day.

The men kept throwing at the city, and shooting arrows, while the enemy did nothing because they were out of rage. Getting back inside, Jon asked, “Any news of Jaime Lannister?” 

“No. But the men in the Riverlands are searching for him. Vargo Hoth has been hanged, and so his men,” his uncle replied while looking at the map of King’s Landing. “Jon. We did not have a chance to talk about what will happen to the Children. Tommen and Myrcella are innocent.”

“I have no intention of harming her. I won’t harm either Joffrey if he surrenders. I will send him to the wall,” Jon said, sitting. “However, I can’t let them in power, Lord Stark because that would never put an end to the war.”

“I Know. And I agree. We will think of something. I only wanted to make sure that we are on the same ground in this regard. We will marry them off to someone loyal to you.”

“Yes. I was thinking of a union between Myrcella and Rickon. And give them the Rock.”

“Rickon? Have you lost your mind? She is older than him.”

“Of course not now,” chuckled Jon, but his uncle looked still angry. “You are telling me that a man can marry a woman younger than him, but not the other way? Even if that would mean peace?”

But before his uncle could answer they got interrupted by Robb and Garlan Tyrell. 

“News from the inside, Jon,” his brother said, heading straight for the jug with water, as he turned his attention to the young Tyrell. 

“My grandmother is inside the walls with Margaery. She is ready to open the gates if you agree to marry my sister and unite our Houses.”

Jon glanced at Robb and uncle, before looking at Tyrell, “Tempting offer, but I can’t accept. I’m already married to someone else. A girl I love and who returns my feeling. She is on her way to King’s Landing with men and Dragons.”

“But-”

“I spoke!” Jon rose his voice. “However. We can still seal this deal. Robb is my brother even if we don’t share the same father or mother. We have grown up together. And we both know that she would agree.”

“She would, aye, but she wouldn’t be queen.”

“What is better for her, Ser Garlan? A crown or a happy life beside the man she loves?” But the boy did not reply. “Do you agree, Ser?”

“I’m not in the position to accept something different than what my House demands.”

“Then we have no deal,” Jon said, nodding him to leave. Robb came to him after that, giving him a hug ad thanking him, before leaving, and Jon glanced at Lord Stark. “You don’t agree with what I did, don’t you.”

“I do actually. I think that the deal is advantageous for everyone. The Crown, the Reach the North. What truly happened between them? Did he bed the girl?”

“No. But they got close. Very close.”

“I expected it.”

“I’m surprised that you did not fret out like with me when I told you what happened between me and Daenerys.”

“Lady Margery isn’t his aunt from what I know.” but Jon only scoffed, filling his cup with wine this time. Taking a sip, Jon said, there is something I need to tell you. During her voyage, Daenerys learned that a boy who goes by the name of Aegon is with the Company. She says that there are chances he is my brother. The Aegon fathered by Rhaegar with Elia.”

“It’s impossible. He was killed during the sack. I myself saw his body wrapped in Lannister colours,” lord Stark said, and Jon rubbed his head at remembering this story. That damn Tywin Lannister and his dogs. “Who told her?”

“Huh?”

“Who told the Princess?”

“Ashara Dayne,” Jon mumbled against the cup. “Did you know she was alive?”

“Aye. She came to me when I was in King’s Landing.”

“They are coming uncle. We need to take the city before their arrival,” Jon said, and the Lord of Winterfell nodded. 

Volantis

The fleet was entering the great harbor of the city but she commanded all of them to stay on board until she finds news about where the Golden Company was locked. However, for now, she took a moment to admire the city. She had visited it once after Braavos, but that memory was almost gone. And she was nothing but a child.

“The first daughter was it called. Because it was the first outpost made by the Valyrian when they started expanding inland in Essos,” came the Red Pristess’s voice. 

“I’m not here to learn its history but to find out where the Golden Company is,” Dany retorted, dismissing the topic of the conversation that was growing. “And I am here for what you have promised me.”

A few days before… Astapor …

“Who are you?” Daenerys asked the woman cradled in red that was standing before her.

“Mynara of Mantaryes. Servant of R’hollor.”

“R’hollor? The Lord of light?” and the woman nodded. “And what does your Lord wants from me?

“The Long Night is coming. Only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn.

“The prince who was promised will bring the dawn,” I’ve already heard something like this, but I'm afraid I'm not a prince.”

“Your Grace, forgive me, but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun has no gender in High Valyrian, so the proper translation for that prophecy would be the prince or princess who was promised will bring the dawn.”

“Now, I like it better,” mumbled Arya as Dany suppressed a smile while addressing the Red Priestess. “You believe this prophecy refers to me?”

“We do.  You did what no one thought anyone could do. You awakened the dragons from the stone. You have been reborn from smoke and salt. You are Azor Ahai."

And upon hearing that, Dany immediately said, "I am not, because your Azor Ahai is in Old Valyria. I met him and he is a vile creature. Nothing like what legends say he is. There is nothing light in him but only Darkness."

“I know nothing of this…man, Daenerys Targaryen, but I know that you are the true Azor Ahai,” the woman said, “And if you come with me to Volantise, you will have all the answer you are seeking.”

And upon hearing about Volanties she immediately made up her decision.

“Where do you think they are?” came Arya’s voice, bringing her back to the present day, as they were crossing the bridge that was leading to the eastern side of Volanties. The old side of the city where the Temple was and where strangers can’t access it. At least that according to the Red Priestess. “Dany?”

“I don’t know Arya. But I hope we will find out soon,” she replied, sighing while admiring the fine works of the city, and not only that. Buildings rose on the sides of the bridge. Shops, temples, inns, taverns, and even brothels judging by some women at the entrance, wearing clothes that were hiding almost nothing from the sight of a man. While at the end of it, there was an arch of black stone carved with sphinxes, manticores, dragons, and other strange beasts.

However, once they were on the other side, Dany halted her horse and the men coming behind them, because of the magnificent building that appeared in her sight. 

“The Black walls,” the Red Priestess said when she noticed that Dany wasn’t following. “Behind those walls, lords of ancient blood sleep dreaming of breaking our fate, and our spirits, as they are followers of the Old Gods of Valyria. The false Gods. But there is only one true God.”

“The Bravosi say the same. But their God is only one and we all know who it is. Death,” came Arya’s voice, and Dany immediately got between the two, not wanting a fight of faiths to come out since those fanatics were unpredictable.  

“It’s better if we move. Time is a luxury we don't have.”

And they all took the way for the Temple. Even from streets away, Dany could see the tall building of those fire worshipers.

When they finally reached the temple, Dany saw a large number of men wearing adorned armors over long orange robes, and they all were wielding spears with points in the shapes of writhing flames.

“What you see are the Fiery Hand. a thousand souls serving only one purpose. Serve the one true God,” Mynara said, clearing her thoughts. “Your men will stay outside. Only you can enter the House of the Lord of Light.” 

And Dany even if she didn’t like the idea of being inside there alone, she nodded. “Turgon Nudha.  Umbagon zirȳla lēda se vali, se mīsagon Missandei se Arya. Yn dōrī ivestragī aōha urnēbagon ilagon.”

The Commander of her Unsullied nodded, tightening the grip on his spear. If it comes to the fight, however, Dany knew that they stand no chance against the Fiery hand.

“Dany-”

“Stay here, Arya. And try to not get in trouble,” she said, seeing the girl roll her eyes, before starting to walk with an unflinching look and a steady grip on the handle of the sword. 

The Fiery Hand made way for her, and as she was approaching the more, Dany spotted the Priests and Priestess of R’hollor standing there. While at the top of the stairway, a man was standing. He looked to be tall but thin, with a shaved head.

Suddenly a cracking roar could be heard, and Dany knew her children had come to show the city that if they will hurt her they will burn. And the Fiery Hand looked up starting mumbling among themselves. They were afraid of them good.

Dany climbed up the stairs, reaching finally the top of the stairs and the entrance of the temple. 

“Welcome to the house of the Lord of Light, Mother of Dragons. I’m Benerro,

High Priest of the Red Temple of Volantis, First Servant of the Lord of Light. I foresaw your arrival in the flames. The Lord of light showed us that you would have freed us from the Ancient Blood. We now swore to serve you and guide you during the Long Night,” Then turning to the crowd that had gathered up before the temple, “Now all of you kneel before the prince that was promised. The one that shall bring the dawn.”

Everyone did so, and for a moment Dany savored that. But she never forgot the true reason of why she was here.

“You may rise,” Dany said to the Priest, and he obeyed, getting up as did the others. “I thank you for your welcome and your loyalty, but the reason of why I am here is because words had reached my ears that the Golden Company was heading to Volantsi.”

“They did. The Triarch Malaquo attempted to hire the Company to kill me and purge the temple of my followers but they refused the offer. They left a few days ago after hiring the fleet to take them to Westeros.”

Upon hearing that, Dany’s heart started pounding in his chest, and her breathing increased. 

“Then I need to sail for Westeros at once because I’m already late.”

“Not before I will show you your path, Azor Ahai.”

“Your Azor Ahai is in Valyria. Seek him for your games, Priest,” hissed Dany, angered by his words. 

“I must insist,” the man said, in a way that was more a threat than anything. She glanced at the Fiery hand and at those who had come with her, before nodding not wanting to risk. “Come.” the man said, showing with the hand, and Dany followed him inside, gripping the hand on Darksister.

Dorne

The moment he was back to Sunspear, Oberyn was informed that his brother the Prince of Dorne wanted to see him in the great hall. And there he went.

Upon entering, Oberyn saw them drinking, and when Doran noticed him, he greeted him. “Brother. Welcome back. Come. Raise the cup with us in toast and let your heart rejoice because of our revenge being fulfilled.”

“What do you mean?” asked Oberyn confused, but his brother only nodded to the bag that was laying on the table. Approaching it, Oberyn opened the bag, finding a head inside. It was the head that he wanted to cut all his life. “Who did it?”

“The Starks. Ned Stark sent it to me with a letter.”

“What letter?” asked Oberyn and Doran nodded at the table again. So he picked the letter opening and read it quickly, before throwing it away. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“I don’t think so. Eddard Stark isn’t known for lying. If he says that the boy is Prince Rhaegar’s son, then he is.”

“Then why are you sitting here celebrating while our sister isn’t avenged yet?”

“She was Oberyn. Eddard Stark killed the Mountian and took the Old Lion as a prisoner. You read it in the letter. And the boy crushed the Reahmen. The Quiet Wolf has promised us his head. You will be able to finally kill him without repercussions.”

“I want the boy’s head on a spike too,” Oberyn said while feeling his whole heart filled with rage and trying to keep his emotions at bay. 

“Everyone. Leave,” his brother the Prince commanded, and they all obeyed without saying a word, while Obery filled himself a goblet with Dornish wine since he had missed its taste during the voyage because no one was as much taste as the wine of Dorne.

Once alone his brother said, “You won’t touch the boy because I have plans for him.”

“Plans?”  chuckled Oberyn taking a sip. “There are no plans, brother. There is my spear and his head. Nothing more.” 

He stopped to take another sip, before gesturing with his finger, “He is living proof of the shame that has fallen on our sister. Westeros laughed when the dragon chose the wolf, and now they will laugh again because the she-wolf's bastard is still breathing while Elia's children lie dead in the ground, butchered by a mountain." And he spat on that head that was still on the table.

“You don’t know the whole story, brother. Yes. Westeros laughed at her after that. But it was not something she had not foreseen. Or that she hadn't informed me of. You were the brother she was closest with, the brother she loved more, but you were not here when all that happened. You were in Essos fighting for some Free Company, wanting to taste the dread of living on the edge of a knife knowing life could end with the cut of a sword or an arrow. But I was, Oberyn. I was.”

“You say that I don’t know the whole story. Then tell me not. Tell me why I should not ride right now to King’s Landing and kill this bastard?”

“Because Elia wouldn’t want that. And she wouldn’t forgive you if you kill the boy.”

“Forgive me?” bitterly chuckled Oberyn while taking a sip. “She is dead, brother. She is dead for a man’s wrong choices. A man who had betrayed his oaths. A man who had forgotten that he had a wife and two children, preferred to leave three of the best kingsguard with a northern whore instead of protecting his lawful wife and heirs. No brother. I will kill Jon snow and we will put Aegon on the throne.”

“Which Aegon? Because the boy with the Starks is named Aegon too. And unlike the boy with the Golden Company, there are proofs of this Jon Snow being a Targaryen with a claim to the throne.”

Now calmed down, Oberyn asked, "What do you want me to do, brother?"

"You will march on King's Landing with ten thousand Dornish spears and present our terms to the young wannabe king. He will have to marry Arianne as retribution for the wrongs his mother has done to our House. And that has brought shame to Elia."

"Arianne will never accept him. You know that."

"Leave my daughter to me. You make sure that the boy accepts them. But without hurting him."

"Then let us toast to House Martell who will finally put his blood on the Iron Throne," Oberyn said, rising the cup, but already planning his own agendas for what will come from this expedition. But for now, he will tell his brother what he had learned from the Golden Company.

After having had the talk with his brother, Doran sent after his daughter because even if one heart had been soothed, there was still his daughter to inform. And knowing her she won’t take the news lightly. 

When he saw her appear at the  entrance, accompanied by Areo Hotha, Doran greeted her, “Daughter.”

“Father. Are you already missing me,” she giggled, filling a cup of wine. “It had been only an hour since we last saw each other.

“Many things happen in an hour,” Doran replied, nodding to Areo  Hotha to leave. "I have wonderful news to share with you about your future."

I'm all ears."

"You know that I sent Oberyn to Essos because I wanted to make an alliance with the Golden Company to avenge your aunt  Elia." And Arianne nodded. "With the Company, there is a boy-"

"I have no intention of marrying him if that's what you are trying to say," she stopped him.

"Not him. Someone else. Jon Snow."

"A northern bastard?" Chuckled Arianne. “When Daemon took my maidenhood you were beyond mad. How is it that now you are selling me to a bastard? A northern nevertheless.”

“Because this bastard isn’t a bastard but a lost prince. Aegon son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark,” Dorna replied, catching his daughter’s attention immediately. “I see that you like this idea.”

Yes, she replied, and that cheered him up. "But only if he will live here, for I have no intention of giving up my right."

"It is not for you to decide who will or will not be the next Prince of Dorne. But me. And I have decided that your brother will be the next Prince of Dorne, while you will be Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Why?" she asked almost in a broken voice, “Why are you striping me of my rights, father?  What wrong have I ever done to you? Have I never proved my loyalty to you and to Dorne?”

"In three days' time, Oberyn will leave with men, and you will join him."

“What makes you think that the boy will fall for me?” she mumbled the words against the edge of the goblet while sulking. 

“You are the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms And you come from Dorne. Stark are known for falling for the Dornish. Eddard Stark was known as the most honorable man even in his youth. But not even he could resist the Dornish beauty. And you are far more beautiful than Ashara ever was.”

His daughter did not reply, as she got up and left, while he sighed. She will make trouble. He knew she will.

Three days later…

Three thousand men were standing outside the walls of Sunspear ready to march on King's Landing and gather the others down the way, under the command of the Red Viper of Dorne, and Prince Quentyn his son, who insisted on joining the march.

Once his brother and his son took the leave from the Prince of Dorrne, it was time for Doran to say goodbye to his only daughter, and he could see the sadness on her face.

“Arianne.”

“Father,” she made a reverence, before leaning to kiss him on the cheek, and Dorna took chance to hold her there for a moment, “Remember our talk, daughter.”

“I will. Aegon Targaryen will become my husband or I will no longer be Arianne Martell, Princess of Dorne.”

He smiled, kissing her forehead. “Farewell, daughter. Have a safe and uneventful journey.” Then Doran turned his attention to the young knight, the Bastard of Godsgrace, “Ser Daemon. You have been named as the Princess’s sworn shield. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me in that regard.”

“I won’t, my Prince. I will protect her with my life,” the young man replied, and Doran nodded, even though he knew how close these two were, and that Arianne may feel something for the boy. He for sure. And that was enough reassurance.

King’s Landing

“How long do you think they will be able to resist?" Jon asked while standing at the entrance of the tent and looking at the city with hands behind his back. It had been already almost a week of siege since they were there camped.

“King's Landing is a big city with high and thick walls. Months to breach them and years to starve the city in a siege. If it is the same way as it was when I was Hand because as such I could oversee the stocks."

Well. Then let's hope that Dany and her dragons will be here soon."

"Aye," his uncle agreed,  coming to his side. "Robb?"

"Still away.  He wants to find a way and sneak inside to save her."

"Do you still intend to strip House Tyrell of the titles?"

"I do. And not only that. I also intend to strip House Tully too and annex the Riverlands to the Crownlands. They will become part of the Crownlands."

"Have you lost your mind? The Tully and its bannermen are fighting to put you on the throne, Jon. You can't betray them like that."

"They betrayed their oaths when they decided to rebel against House Targaryen during Robert's Rebellion to fulfill their own ambitions," Jon hissed back. "If you want to leave do it. If you want to tell them do it, but I won’t go back on my decisions."

His uncle seemed shocked by his words before looking forward. "And if I tell them and they take their armies stating their independence. What will you do?"

"Fight of course."

"You know that fighting them will mean that you force my hand to fight you, Jon," his uncle said, and Jon nodded, turning his full attention to the Lord of Winterfell.

"I suppose this is the end of our alliance. I will let you go back to the Riverlands,  Lord Stark, but from tomorrow we will be enemies."

"This is madness, Jon. You cannot win."

"No lord Stark. This is justice. House Targaryen made them Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and they returned that gratitude with rebellion."

Lord Stark turning, said, "I thought you were a better man, Jon."

"So did I. But I'm disappointed. I've got disappointed of you the moment I learned the truth.  If before looked at you in admiration and a role model, now I will make sure to not become like you," Jon said the harsh truth and saw the hurt displayed on his uncle's face but before their fight could get heather, Brienne of Tarth said, "Look, my King. Torches on the walls.”

And Jon exchanged a look with his uncle, before rushing to get his sword and then after his horse. 

They rode to the walls, and Jon heard Cersei Lannister say out loudly, “Bastard of Winterfell! You have till dawn to lift the siege and go back to that shit-hole that you call home. If in the marrow, you will be still here, I will destroy the city and everyone outside those walls!” 

“No mother would harm her children. Why should I believe your words?” Jon asked, seeing the woman grab a torch and wave it. 

Suddenly a loud thump that made the ground almost shake could be heard, followed immediately after by a great fire rising into the sky from the city.

“Wildfire! The whole city had been filled with it. Attack us again, and you will have the lives of thousands of innocents on your shoulders,” she shouted, before retreating her men, and Jon looked at his uncle in horror at what just happened. 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

Margaery couldn’t believe her eyes at seeing what just happened. The Sept of Baelor, the holiest place in Westeros and where, until the previous day she had walked in, now was gone. Blow up, but whatever sorcery the Lioness had made.

The people were terrified, and screams could be heard from the city while the fire was still burning in the night.

Suddenly the door opened, straddling her, and Margery saw that thankfully it was only her grandmother with her mother and the guards. “She went completely mad. Deal or not deal those gates will be open for the rebels to get in.”

“She will fight if you try, grandmother.”

“Yes, she will bloody do that, but I won’t stand and watch while she turns us in ashes,” her grandmother said, turning and walking out with Erryk and Arryk following behind.

“Take care, lady grandmother,” Margaery said after her grandmother, while her mother wrapped her arms around her, kissing the forehead.

“She will succeed. She always does.”

A few hours after the destruction of the Sept of Baelor, Cersei had advised Joffrey to summon the Lords and Ladies who were staying in the Red Keep and see that they know where their loyalty should lie, but she also knew that Ollena Tyrell will act against them now that she knew the city is more dangerous than the men itself. Of course, he immediately wanted their head, but Cersei advised him to be patient and that soon everything will go as he wish.

“You didn’t tell me that there was still Wildfire in the city,” came her son’s voice from atop the Iron Throne. “You should have done that. I am the King, mother. I need to know everything that happens in my city, mother.”

“It doesn’t matter now. That was the only stock we had after your grandfather took it to Harrhenal. Now we are empty.”

“But you said-“

“I said what needs to be said to keep you on the throne,” Cersei cut him, looking up. “That’s everything that matters. And that is everything you need to know. Make sure to not betray our plans, Joff. They need to think that we hold the upper hand. That we still have the Wildfire.”

When the doors opened, she saw the nobles flocking inside while mumbling among themselves, but it was the foot soldiers echoing through the hallways that draw everyone’s attention. It was that old Corne from the Reach and her men that entered the Great hall, filling it and closing the doors behind.. She fell right into her trap. Good!

“Cersei Lannister. I have come here in the name of the people of King's Landing to bring you to justice and make you answer for what you have done."

"Oh, yes? And tell me, Queen of Thorns. When did you become the people's champion?"

"My daughter is. The People of King's Landing will turn to their rightful Queen. The Queen they chose. The Men of House Tyrell outnumber the city watch and will soon take control of the gates. The Targaryen boy will enter the city before noon."

"This is treachery!" screamed Joffrey, jumping up. "Ser Ilyn! Bring me her head!" while pointing the finger at the old crone.

And Cersei smiled as chaos broke out and their archers came from hiding, killed the Queen of Thorns' men. The Kingsguard joined the fight too killing one after the other, as they were more skilled, and pushing the enemy against the closed doors, while Ilyn Payne reached the old woman, killing the twins that were protecting her first, and then he cut her head with one slice. Amidst the chaos, then the King's Justice rose the head high above his, showing it at the King, who was over the edge happy at seeing the traitor dead.

Some of the Lords and Ladies lay dead along with the Tyrell soldiers, while others got to cover. Behind the columns, under the dead bodies, and even lying on the floor pretending to be dead. Getting up, she said to those remaining, "If you stay loyal to your rightful king, and fight for him, I promise nothing will happen to you or your families."

With those words, she left the throne room, followed behind by Ser Osmund, her sworn shield, while the others remained with the king who was clapping for the deed that had been done.

"See that the Queen of Thorns' head ends up on the walls of the Red Keep once the bastard has retreated his men. Find Loras Tyrell, arrest him, and then send word to whoever is in charge that if they try to turn their weapons against us their lady rose will die."

“Dawn is breaking, Jon. What have you decided?” came his uncle’s voice, while the Lords were all gathered in that tent. He got up and leaning against the table said.

“Lift the siege. We go home.”

“You want to run away?” asked GreatJon, leaning against the table, and gazing down at him with furrowed eyes. “If we retreat now the war will never end. Worse. We will lose!”

“You saw what happened last night, Lord Umber. And she said that the whole city was filled with the Wildfire. I don’t want to risk half a million innocent people for a chair.”

“What if she is bluffing?” asked Roose Bolton in his small and soft voice, with crossed arms, and cold eyes.

“She may. But I don’t want to risk it. Nothing is worth thousands of innocent lives. Not even the Iron Throne. Not even victory.”

“Good men died for you, your grace! My sons died to put you on that throne,” Karstark said almost in a broken way.

“They died because they choose. No one forced them to fight. Before we left Harrhenal, I held a meeting, Lord Karstark. Do you remember?” this time Jon rose his voice. “I’m sorry for your loss, but this is the life of a Soldier. They knew. You knew.” Then looking at his uncle again, Jon said. “We lift the siege. Get the men ready.”

His uncle nodded, however, in that moment, Robb rushed inside. “Jon!” and panting, he said, “Ships are sailing the Blackwaters. Dozen of them, and from what I could see the Redwyn are leaving free passage to King’s Landing. It is Stannis Jon, and the leading ship has a fire light on the bow.”

And upon hearing that, Jon glanced at Brienne, seeing her tighten the grip on the handle of the sword and eyes filled with anger.

“Get the men ready for battle, my lord. We are going to block his way to the city otherwise she will blow it out.”

“But fighting him will mean we will have to approach the walls because the only way to cross the rush is at the Mud Gates,” Bolton stated while moving his hand on the map. “We will be at rage. The archers will attack us.”

“Aye. I know. But there is no other way. The Rivermen and the Reachmen will move north under Robb’s command to face Stannis there if he lands, while we will move to the harbor and face him there if he will land there.”

The bells were ringing, and Osfryd send words after the Queen to inform her that Stannis was coming and that the Redwyne had betrayed them. However, his attention now was on the enemy outside the walls, seeing them move away from the camp and march south, to the harbor.

“Where are they going?”

“The Mud Gates. They want to stop Stannis because of the wildfire.”

“Or attack us,” retorted Allar Deem. “This could be a mislead. We should attack them.”

“No. We will let them face Stannis and wait to see who will win,” Osfryd shook his head while following the army with his gaze, before looking at Deem, “because whoever will win, he will have fewer men than now.”

Then, addressing the knight of Kayce, he said, “Ser Kennos. I entrust you with the command of the Lion Gate and half of the archers. If the remaining forces attack the city fight them back until I return.” The man nodded, and so turning his attention to the men in the courtyard, Osfryd said, “Men! To the Mud Gates!”