Winterfell 294 AC.
Ned.
Work had begun on Wintertown's expansion, after speaking to some of the people who lived there and receiving encouragement, he and Luwin had gone over the food situation. More people, meant more food and more food, meant more expense, with the trade deals White Harbor were involved in, with Bear Island soon to be doing so too, coin would be more plentiful. But even so, given the coin they'd spend on Wintertown, as well as buying more food, it would be some time before they saw a benefit.
This concerned him as in some ways that was the point, while he knew he'd need to spend some coin upfront, he was not used to spending so much and was naturally cautious. They had been going back and forth over this when the raven arrived from Highgarden and whether it was Jon, the gods, or whoever, it felt as if someone was looking out for them.
"My lord, a raven from House Tyrell." Luwin said bringing it in.
He took the raven, opened it and after reading it smiled and shook his head, handing it to Luwin.
Lord Stark,
In the spirit of hopefully new found cooperation between the Reach and the North, given both your son and daughter's ties to my house, I would like to offer you a better deal on our trading arrangements. As of our last order please accept a quarter discount on all shipments between ourselves and House Stark. I also look forward to expanding upon our future cooperation in other areas.
Lord Mace Tyrell.
"My lord this is most fortuitous." Luwin said and Ned couldn't help but agree.
"How much does this actually help us?" he asked.
"Given our last shipment and our next order, greatly, should we wish to expand on orders in the future, even at our present costs we'd be getting a quarter more produce at the current expense."
While not the best at sums, Ned could see huge benefits already, they would need to order more anyway, this allowed for that, at a lesser expense. He began to work it out in his head and soon figured what he'd be spending on Wintertown would easily be set off against what they saved on food orders alone.
That night as they ate he looked at the other boon which had come his way in Lady Jonelle, both Arya and Bran had taken immediately to the lady, Arya especially seeming more eager than ever for her lessons. Ned had stayed outside the room the first day the lady arrived, listened in, and in the end had walked away with a smile on his face. Northern politics, the houses, the bannermen, history and sums, all being taught in that first lesson.
Listening as Arya asked question after question, as he heard his daughter laugh and how a day or so later Bran asked could he sit in with them, all of it proved both Jon and Nan had been right. Maege too, his children were northern and needed to be thought by people of the North. A few days after Lady Jonelle's arrival, he found himself talking more and more to the woman, laughing and japing as they spoke of rides through the Barrowlands, or hunting in the Wolfswood.
"You hunt my lady?" he asked surprised.
"I do my lord, my father always allowed me to use a bow and while I don't get out as much as I'd like, I do still get out."
"I've been thinking of teaching Arya, but can't find the time."
"Maybe I could give her some lessons in archery also, once or twice a week with your permission my lord?"
"I thank you my lady, that would be a load off my mind."
When Arya had heard she would be taking archery lessons a couple of times a week, she had almost hugged him to death such was her excitement. When she found out it was Lady Jonelle who'd be teaching her, Ned knew that any lesson the woman asked his daughter to do afterward would at least be tried. Something which was shown to him a few days later when with Jonelle beside her, Arya walked up to him carrying a handkerchief.
"Father, I..ehm….I made this for you." Arya said with Jonelle's encouragement.
"I thank you Arya." he said taking the handkerchief.
It was white with the grey Direwolf of House Stark and their words written underneath, while not as well done as the ones Sansa would make, the marked improvement from some of Arya's work was clear. He held it in his hands, watching as his daughter looked nervously at him, waiting for his approval or not.
"This is incredible work Arya, really incredible." he said and the beaming smile on her face and how she looked to Jonelle in gratitude, was as big a present to him as the handkerchief itself.
A few days later he received a raven from Sansa and then one from Robb telling him of their adventures, both seemingly enjoying themselves in their fostering, though Sansa hadn't made it to Highgarden yet. At dinner that night he read them out to Arya and Bran, listening in as Arya spoke about her own fostering, watching on as Jonelle encouraged her and told her of her own many years earlier.
Later that week he received perhaps the biggest boon of all, for Ned at least, if not the North itself. He was walking to the crypts when it happened, she came behind him and almost scared the life out of him when he saw her there. The mother wolf had kept to herself for most of her time in Winterfell, he had seen her play with her pups, seen her, Nymeria and Summer spend time together. She would leave occasionally and be gone for some time, hunting in the Wolfswood he figured.
Ned dreaded the day she'd not come back, that one day when the pups were large enough, which they almost were, she'd just walk off not to be seen again. But she always did and now here she was looking at him, her head cocked to one side, almost as if she was weighing him up, judging him. If she was, then a moment later she seemed to find him worthy as she walked over and licked his hand. He, in turn, rubbed her fur and as he walked into the crypts she followed and wouldn't leave his side for not just the rest of the day, but that night too.
"What am I to call you then?" he asked looking at her as she lay beside the fire in his room.
He looked into the wolf's eyes, trying to think of a name and found there was only one which fitted, only one which came even close to what she was, what she had been.
"Lya." he said and the wolf came forward and licked his hand "Lya." he said smiling.
When people saw him walking around with the she wolf by his side, he felt as if he was ten feet tall, the whispers, the looks, he had always been respected, even perhaps loved by some, but this was a whole different thing. Is this how they looked at Jon? How they looked at his children? If it was, then he had never felt prouder of his nephew for bringing the wolves back, for gifting them to his family.
His children loved that he had a wolf of his own now, their wolves also loved having their mother nearby, as they'd eat in the great hall, Lya would sit by his side, growling at the two pups if they got out of hand. At night when he'd occasionally do his rounds, walk the battlements, or just go to speak to he guards, she'd be by his side, no need for a guard when you walked with a Direwolf of her size. The wolf though fierce, was gentle too, she cared about his family he could tell, and he knew he couldn't have picked a better name for her.
It was a few days later though when she acted strangely, scratching at his door one night to get out, he looked at her and she at him and then he let her outside, thinking that would be it, that perhaps she wished to run free for a bit. But she waited at the door for him, before coming to his side and grabbing his sleeve dragging him to the door. He dressed and followed and found to his surprise that she led him to Cat's room, scratching and biting at the door.
"Is there someone in there, an intruder?" he said realizing he was unarmed and ready to call for guards.
But Lya just looked at him, he could swear she shook her head and instead just went back to scratching at the door. Cat had taken her key with her, locking the door when she left, so he had to go to Vayon's quarters and ask for the copy, waking his steward up in the process. When he made it back to Cat's room, Lya was laying there waiting for him and so he opened the door, and right away the wolf ran to the closet scratching once again.
Ned walked inside and closed the door behind him, opening the closet he saw Lya scratch at the bottom and then turn her head to look at him, leaning in he felt where she scratched, surprised to find a loose board and underneath it a box. A part of him was saying to leave it alone, place it back and walk from the room, to not invade his wife's privacy in such a way, but the wolf was looking at him, staring into his eyes, almost daring him to open it and in the end he did.
There were small pieces of jewelry he'd not seen before, and a bunch of letters he hadn't written with his wife's name on them. He sat down on her bed and began to read, feeling his anger coming to the fore, the more he did so.
Who was Petyr Baelish?
Why was he writing to his wife?
Was Cat writing back?.
Pentos 294 AC.
Illyrio.
For moons he had looked, spent a huge amount of coin, numerous different groups had been sent out and he had received even less news about the Targaryen girl than he had about his friend. Varys was gone, that much was certain, he had no choice but to send a man to Kings Landing to while not find out about Varys, at least find out about the events there, something he was more than happy he had done. There were opportunities in Kings Landing for him, big ones and he saw a different route should he need to pursue it.
But first, he needed to find the princess, first he needed for Aegon and her to be betrothed, to be married would take more time, but he could convince her of the benefits if only he could get her here. If not he could move with his other plan, given the man laying on the bed recovering in his manse, he could certainly do so.
"How is he?" he asked the healer he had brought to work on the dragon prince.
"He is as well as can be expected, the danger is long past, but the injury is severe, he'll not walk without a limp given the blood loss and as he ages, he'll feel it more."
"Will it kill him eventually?"
"It's hard to say, it may if he doesn't take care of it, but if he does he could live a decent life."
Illyrio nodded and left the woman to her work and walked to his room, feeling hungry he ordered what was for him a small meal. With Varys gone their plans were far different, while he felt the marriage to be the best one, the more he thought of the other, the more he saw the benefits, it was the cost though which gave him pause. For it to work he'd need to spend almost his entire fortune, he could of course raise it back once they named Aegon king, but still it was a huge risk.
"Magister, more letters." the slave girl said handing him the letters as the others arrived with the dishes.
He ate first leaving the letters until afterward, the small baby sparrows were particularly delicious today, though he was annoyed they'd only made two plates of them. As he ate the pickled figs feeling the juice run down his hands, he sent a slave to grab some water and a cloth, he needed to see what news these letters would bring.
The first one was more bad news, they had missed them in Tyrosh, just as they had in Myr, they were on their trail though and they were heading north. That at least brought a smile to his face, north from Tyrosh sent them in his direction and should they land in Pentos he'd know, this was his city after all. The second note was worse news though, he could keep his coin and they'd keep the advance he gave them, the man with the princess was an animal, a beast and he'd killed four of their number easily.
"No my friends, not a beast, a dog." Illyrio said as he placed the letter down and picked up the one from Westeros.
No sign of your friend, but the crown struggles,
rumor has it the Tyrell's have withdrawn their support,
coin an even bigger problem than usual.
It was just as it had been, just as he'd suspected it would go, his friends in the Iron Bank having told him of the offer they'd made to the Master of Coin, this Littlefinger. Illyrio remembered what Varys had said about him. a grasper with ideas above his station, a man not to be trusted, but Illyrio knew men like that craved coin and he had lots of it. But Littlefinger was just one way in, one he wasn't sure he would use, not when he had others.
Illyrio.
Aegon wishes to see his uncle, to lead the search for his aunt, he overheard me speaking to Duck about Clegane and fears for her safety. For now I've put him off, explaining if Clegane meant her harm he'd have done so already, but he insists on seeing Viserys.
Griff.
Connington really was an incompetent fool in some ways, a necessary one, but an incompetent one all the same. Aegon was never to know of Dany, until it was time, and certainly not about Viserys, that could be a big problem, though perhaps one he could use too. He needed the girl though, Viserys was irrelevant and even having dealt with him only briefly since they brought him to him, an annoyance he could do without.
" I am the king."
" Where is my sister."
" When I find her, she'll have woken the dragon."
Each statement as ridiculous as the next, is this what Aerys was like, is this the Targaryen madness in full effect, pathetic, weak, dragons from a lesser line. Not like Aegon, not like his son, he carried the blood of the true kings of Westeros, the blood of Daemon and Aegor, of Haegon and Maelys. His son was the true dragon, the true king and he would see him on his throne, whatever it took.
He asked for a parchment and quill and began to write a trading agreement, it was time to expand into Westeros, time for his business to move forward. With some taxes, some bribes, with paying for a feast here and there he could get close to the court and then he could begin to work behind the scenes. Coin and influence, that was all that mattered, coin and influence, both would bring his son the throne in the end, he had enough of one, it was time to spend it to gain more of the other.
"Bring this to Afoadar, tell him to have Daerla present it to the Master of Coin." Illyrio said to the eunuch who moved quickly from the room.
He ate the rest of the dishes before heading back to look at the Targaryen in his bed, confident now in his plan. The boy would buy him a seat, his coin would do the rest and then Aegon and the boy's sister would unite to take the Stag and Lion down, as he heard the boy moan and turn he sighed and closed his eyes, knowing he'd have to present a mummery for some time first.
"Magister Illyrio, my sister have you found her." Viserys asked his voice pained.
"Not as of yet my king, but my men are looking and we shall find her soon, on that you have my word."
"Well done Magister, when I am returned to my rightful place, when I have my crown I shall see you rewarded."
"Seeing the rightful king on his throne is reward enough." Illyrio said as the fool in front of him smiled as if he was speaking of him.
The Wall 294 AC.
Benjen Stark.
While only a few moons since Jon had come to Castle Black, the changes based on what his nephew and Jaime Lannister had done were massive. The food supplies kept coming, their stocks had never been higher and the men walked around in warmer clothing, were better fed and equipped than ever before. The wood, the blankets, the feathers for mattresses instead of straw, to some of the grumpier men of the watch, they were being turned soft, but to most of them, they were welcome changes.
Meals wise, they ate meat, decent vegetables, and fruits, gods how long had it been since he'd eaten a peach or a lemon he knew not, but lately, he'd had one or the other most days. Seeing a desert being given out with the meals at first had taken the men by surprise, seeing the pies filled with fruit, tasting the warmth of it, and then washing it down with proper ale, sprits had never been higher. Something looking at Alliser and Jaremy only proved even more.
The grumpy master of arms had been his constant shadow, asking him question after question of his nephew's upbringing. His face creasing in disgust at the thoughts of him being called a bastard by his brother, something Benjen too had his own issues with. When not speaking with him Benjen would talk with Maester Aemon, both of them speaking on their shared kin, over a warm glass of hot wine they'd speak, share stories and hopefully letters, which was why he'd been called there today.
"Ah Benjen, it seems young Jon has written to us yet again." Aemon said with a smile as he did whenever he received the raven from Casterly Rock.
"Hopefully he's not gotten himself into more trouble." Benjen said with a shiver as he remembered the letter informing them of the attack.
"Aye, I hope so too."
Opening the scroll Benjen read it first to himself, but making no sense of it read it then to Aemon.
Maester Aemon
I hope you are well, if you could please share this with my uncle Benjen. It Seems Eggs are no longer being served, they are replaced by small birds, which as you know are harder to take care of and require more thought, but we will do as we must, for I find myself closer to the birds than I ever would have thought.
All my best.
Jon.
"I don't understand?" Benjen said and Aemon just sat there with a dumbfounded look on his face before he laughed louder and louder.
He laughed so loudly that Chett came in to see if he was all right and then Aemon stopped, sent the steward away and called him close to him.
"He's done it Benjen, he's hatched them, our nephew has brought dragons back into the world." Aemon whispered into his ear.
This time it was Benjen who sat with the dumbfounded look on his face, dragons, his nephew had dragons, the prince, the prince that was promised would birth dragons from stone. Aemon had told him of the prophecy, he'd read about it in Lyanna's letters, but never had he really imagined it to be true. By the time he left the Maester's chambers, they were both drunk, Chett putting Aemon to bed looked at him confusedly when the Maester kept saying "Egg." over and over.
"His brother, he's thinking of his brother." Benjen said and Chett smiled sadly, knowing full well the tales of Aemon's family.
Waking to a bad hangover the next morning, he was called to the Lord Commander's solar after breaking his fast, he stood there as Jeor went over some papers, even the normally gruff bear seeming happier.
"My son sent me a raven from Casterly Rock, it seems Lord Jaime was true to his word, they're sailing back in their very own pinnacle ship, whatever that is." Jeor laughed.
"Jon told me of them, larger than any on the waters, one is equal to eight or nine normal ones in terms of trade." Benjen said and the smile on the old bear's face lit up.
"Then my house is in good hands, good. Now to our own business, I need you to do a ranging, we lost some scouts, I need to know if they live or die, or if they deserted."
"Given conditions here, I don't think they deserted." Benjen said and Jeor nodded.
"Aye, but still we need to know, you want to take anyone with you?".
"No, I'll go alone."
"Good, the Halfhand has left from Eastwatch, he'll cover the ground up there, you check down the other way."
"I'll leave immediately, while I still have the daylight."
"Be careful brother and come back, with or without them." Jeor said grabbing his hand.
"I will."
He set off within an hour, loaded up better than he had ever been and as he was let through the gate, both Ser Alliser and Ser Jaremy wished him good fortune.
For three weeks he found no sign, he had stopped at Craster's only briefly, the weather had held and he had no wish to sleep under the man's roof. But for ale he had told him the men had passed through less than a moon earlier heading, east, so he set off that way. When he finally came upon them it was clear what had happened, they had deserted, or tried to and found themselves being trapped by wildings, their deaths hadn't been pretty and animals had gotten to their corpses.
After burying them, night fell and he slept fitfully, wondering if the wildings were still close by. Waking the next morning he felt eyes on him and so he broke his fast as he rode, not delaying to cook, all through the day he knew he was being followed, stalked, and the hairs on the back of his neck never once went down.
He snared a rabbit and cooked it over a fire, having found a place where to get to him he'd see them coming, he then pretended to sleep. They came that night and he knew immediately he was fucked, two he could handle, three at a push, but not four, four was far too much. Still, he fought, his sword was steel, while their knifes and axes were rock and bone. The first man he killed, the second caught him and he fell, the stone crashing into his head and he knew he was done for.
Benjen woke to his face being licked, to feel the tongue as it cleaned his wound, he jumped up and almost wet himself at what was doing the licking. The wolf was huge, even bigger than Ghost, Grey with blue eyes, it looked at him, moved closer and his hand went to his sword only to find nothing there. Before he could move to get it the wolf was on him, his paws on his chest, his face inches from his own and he felt it, felt it at the back of his mind, heard the word as if the wolf had spoke.
" Pack."
Looking around the camp he saw two bodies, the other two must have run, he picked up his sword, packed his horse and he and the wolf rode off, he felt bad leaving the bodies unburied but he needed to be away from here. By the time he arrived back at Castle Black he and the wolf were firm friends, it turned out the wolf was far better at snaring rabbits than he was and so he ate well. Seeing the wall in front of him he saw the wolf stop, look at it and then howl as if calling to his pack and then they rode toward it together.
Essos. 294 AC.
The Hound.
He had a sister once, many years before, so long ago that at times he couldn't remember what she looked at, other times he remembered far too much. He knew nothing of love, or at least he couldn't remember what it was like to love something, someone, but he felt he had loved her, he hoped he had. As he looked at the dark-haired girl practicing her forms, he wondered if he loved her too, he thought so, he'd die for her, he knew that, he'd kill for her, his friend, his ward, his sister.
"You're doing that wrong." he said gruffly and sniggered as she glared at him.
"This is how you told me to do it." she said her face frowning at him.
"No it isn't, now do it right or no supper for you."
"You'd not deny me supper." she said smugly.
"Did you not notice what we're having?" he said with a chuckle and watched her grimace when she saw the chicken.
She moved right then, her body more used to the small sword now, she'd passed knifes more than a moon ago and so he'd moved her onto small swords and bows, she was great with one and passable with the other. So it was swords he concentrated more on, doing twice as many lessons with that as the bow. After she got more practice in he called her over and handed her half the chicken, laughing as she tore into it in almost a mirror copy of himself.
"You promised to tell me the truth." she said as the grease fell onto her lap.
"Aye I did, it's not a pretty truth and you'll need to hear it all, even through the parts that'll make you mad." he said and she looked at him oddly.
"Why would I get mad?". Dany asked and he sighed.
"Because of my name, because of who my brother is."
"What does it matter who your brother is, you told me that." she said smiling and he chuckled.
"True, but my brother is even worse than yours."
She looked at him with incredulity, he knew she had turned around on her brother, but still he also knew the truth of what he was about to reveal.
"Who are you?" she asked a look of worry in her face which he felt hurt by.
"Sandor Clegane, the Hound, Gregor Clegane is my brother." he said and she instinctively moved away from him.
"Why would, why are you, what do you want from me?" she asked, her hand going to her sword, which any other time would have made him smile.
"To protect you, like I've been doing since we met."
"Why?"
"I told you, there are people who wish you protected."
"What if they didn't anymore, what if they told you to hurt me?" she asked worriedly.
"Then they would be shit out of luck. If they wish you harm they'll need to come through me, whether they've paid me or not." he said and she looked at him though kept her face straight.
"Why should I believe you? What if you're like your brother?"
"I'm nothing like him, nothing. I want my brother dead even more than you do." he said and she looked at him confused.
"Why?".
He moved his hair from his face, showing the burns more clearly, she had seen them often, but though he never hid them, he did try and make them less obvious when they were together.
"He did that?" she asked horrified.
"When I was a boy, I played with one of his toys he had finished with, he caught me and pushed my face to the fire." he said and she moved towards him.
He looked to her and allowed her to walk to him, she reached her small hand up to his face, touched it and looked at him sympathetically.
"Your brother is a cunt." she said and both of them laughed then.
"Aye, a dead one when I see him again."
"Do you swear it, that you'll kill him when you see him again?" she asked looking at him.
"I swear it, as I've sworn my sword to you, Dany." he said and she nodded.
"You gonna finish that." she said pointing to the chicken in his hand.
"Of course I'm gonna fucking finish it, you cheeky little sod." he said tearing into the chicken as she giggled.
They broke camp in the morning and rode on, it wasn't long before he heard them in the distance, horses, a few of them, how many he couldn't be sure, he looked around and saw some trees up ahead and motioned for her to ride to them. Just as they reached cover he saw them, six of them, all lightly armored, good, easier to kill should it come to it. He made Dany go behind the tree, her bow and arrows with her, telling her to shoot if he gave the signal and waited for the men to catch up.
"We just want the girl, you can ride on." the small man leading them said.
"Maybe it's best if you take your own advice." he said checking to see that none of them had bows.
"We mean you no harm friend." one of the other men said.
"Do I look familiar to you, 'cos you certainly don't to me and you're not my friend, so fuck off." he said watching the man reach to his sword before one of the others spoke.
"You leave us no choice, we will take her, going through you won't be a problem."
"You should speak to the last man who said that, no wait you can't, I fucking killed him." he said and gave Dany the signal.
The first arrow was true, the man falling to the ground, in the rush though the second only caught the horse and it fell onto the small man who'd spoken first. While two rode at him, two fools jumped off their horses, and after dodging the blows from the horsemen, Sandor was face to face with these two. Whether someone felt numbers were better than quality or skill he knew not, but he had found most of these men to be poor fighters.
These two lived up to that, he killed them both in barely a moment, not even having to dodge their blades, he heard a crash behind him as one man fell from his horse, an arrow in his back, the other racing away. Grabbing the bow from Dany he lined up the shot, missing the man but hitting the horse and watching as the man flew from the saddle and hit the ground hard. He looked around, three men dead, two injured, and one of in the distance.
"You all right?" he said and Dany nodded her head as he gave her back the bow, he smiled when she put another arrow in it ready to fire if needed "Good girl."
Moving to the man who'd tried to ride him down, he found the arrow in his back and the man groaning, he looked to the small man who was trying to get out from under his horse and then back to the other.
"Who sent you?" he asked even though he knew.
"Fuck off." the man said and he smiled as he drove his sword into his chest before moving over to the other man.
"Who sent you?"
"Illyrio Mopatis, he just wants the girl, just the girl, he's willing to pay a lot of gold for her."
"Well he can't have her, we've become quite attached you see." he said and noticed Dany's smile as he killed that man too.
He grabbed up the horses, and watched as Dany went through the men's pockets, finding some coin purses and a little jewelry which she bundled together, while coin wasn't a problem, he had told her one day it might be. Since then she had collected quite a nice little stash just in case she needed it, the horses they'd sell and she'd hold onto that coin too.
They mounted up and rode onward, coming to the man who'd tried to get away, his leg was broken and he was crawling on the ground, Sandor jumped from his horse and walked to him.
"I'll tell you everything, anything you need to know." the man said pleading for his life.
"I already know everything." he said taking his sword out.
"I can help you, I can get you anything you need."
"Really can you get me some chicken?" he said and the man looked at him confused before nodding.
"Yes, yes, I'll get you as much chicken as you want."
"Got any on you?" he asked and the man looked at him shaking his head "Then what fucking use are you." he said stabbing his sword into the man's neck.
He climbed back on his horse and waited for Dany to check through the man's belongings, once she had and was back up on her own they rode on. It took them two more days to reach the city, they sold the horses, took a place in a tavern and slept in a bed that night, eating a hearty meal where they had a full chicken each. The next evening they were standing overlooking a manse, watching as the unsullied guards changed shift, as the fat man ate greedily.
"Illyrio?" Dany asked.
"Fat fucker isn't he." Sandor said and she laughed as they sat back to watch the man more closely.
White Harbor 294 AC.
Robb
A part of him had worried he'd be bored here, worried that he'd find less to do than Winterfell, that he'd find no friends or no activities. Technically he was squiring for Lord Wyman but it was Ser Marlon who handled his training and Robb found him even better than Ser Rodrik, or perhaps not so much better, but certainly a harder taskmaster. Maybe Ser Rodrik had gone easy on him because of him being a lord if so then Ser Marlon didn't share the same reasoning.
His drills were harder, longer and more physical, but he felt himself improve, felt himself get better each day. The lessons he took were harder too, he expected the Maester to be the one who taught him, but for some reason, it wasn't him, instead Lord Wyman had tutors teach him the basic lessons while he himself thought him the political ones. Standing in on Lord Wyman's meetings was an education in of itself, once they were done the lord would pepper him with questions on what he'd seen, why he'd done what he did.
" No Lord Robb, sometimes in a trade deal you must seem as if you lose, you must let the other person walk away thinking they've taken advantage."
" Why my lord?"
" Because then they'll come back, should they think it's you who's taken advantage they may feel slighted, feel like you think less of them."
" Is that why you got angry?"
" Aye, it's a good tool, but only when used right."
So he had watched and learned as much as he could from the Lord of White Harbor, after a while he'd been sent to the docks more and more, his guards keeping their distance but Grey Wind always by his side. The docks he had found fascinating, the stories he'd heard of travels and journeys and far off places, seeing the pinnacle ships up close, hearing sailors speak in awe of them.
One thing he had found odd was the looks Grey Wind got, he too, but mainly the wolf, almost as if they were expecting him to misbehave. It took him some time to find out it was Ghost they were afraid off, the silent wolf sneaking up on unsuspecting stalls, running off with lobsters and lamprey pies. Apparently it had cost his brother a fair amount of coin last time he was here, just to keep people happy, though they bore him no ill will, the opposite in fact.
"There you are, we thought you'd gotten lost." he smiled when he heard Wynafred's voice.
"She did, I didn't care." Wylla said with a giggle.
"You wound me my lady." he said and Wylla just rolled her eyes before walking to one of the stalls.
"Am I needed for something?" he asked and Wynafred just shook her head.
"No, I was just bored, looking for an escort to show me the city."
"Isn't this your city, should you not be showing me?" he said with a smirk.
"I was talking of your wolf, you fool." she said as Grey Wind walked over licking her hand.
"Traitor." he said looking to the wolf and making her giggle.
He had finished his errands and Lord Wyman hadn't asked him to hurry back, so they spent most of the day together, arriving back at the New Castle just before dark. Wylla had bought her usual collection of odd things, while he bought Wynafred a glass seahorse brooch she had been admiring. When they met up with Ser Wylis and his father, he was happy to see letters from his sister and brother in their hands.
Apparently the wedding was the greatest ever which made both Wynafred and Wylla frown at the thoughts of missing it, his sister had danced most of the night away and Jon had too. Lady Margaery was a delight and Sansa was looking forward to going to Highgarden and Jon had some new friends arrive at Casterly Rock but missed his brother, which made him smile. They ate well that night as they always did and once again Robb was glad to be sitting with Wynafred rather than her father or grandfather.
Not that he had an issue with them, but they could put away food and he always felt he was slowing them down, or that he needed to speed himself up. With Wynafred though he could take his time, they'd speak while they ate, listen to the music and dance when they were done. Robb had always danced at feasts and when bannermen came to visit, as heir it was his duty his mother had said, but now he danced almost every night and found he looked forward to it, where before he did so reluctantly.
Over the next few weeks, he began to notice some strange things, more and more it was letters being sent rather than ravens. Once when Lord Wyman felt ill, he didn't allow Theomore to go near him, instead speaking with a woman from the town and recovering within a day or two. When Ser Wendel returned this became even more apparent, along with the news of the attack on Jon in the Riverlands. Robb was furious that someone would attack his brother and a little put out it had not been mentioned in the ravens that came from Casterly Rock.
"I doubt they wished to worry you Lord Robb, more likely they would have liked you not to know." Ser Wendel said.
"He is my brother Ser, my sister was with him, I should know."
"Indeed which is why I told you, your brother is well my lord, he hurt his shoulder and has a small scar over his eye which will fade some as time goes on, but he is well."
"Thank you Ser Wendel, it means a lot that you've told me."
"I've been speaking with my father, should you wish it you can come along on my next journey, I travel to Bravos within the moon, so what say you?"
"Really, on the pinnacle ship?" he said excitedly.
"Aye, we'll be gone less than a moon, but it'll give you both an idea of the sea and some of the trade that's done in Bravos."
"I think I'd like that a lot Ser, I'm most grateful to you and your father."
"Think nothing of it my lord."
While Ser's Wylis and Wendel were excited about his first sea journey and Lord Wyman was filling him in on things he'd need to know, Wynafred it seems was upset he was leaving so soon. She barely spoke to him at dinner, didn't dance, instead once she'd eaten retired to her room. In the end when he found her alone the next morning he feared she'd not speak to him then too.
"I'm sorry I'm leaving, but I'll be back within the moon." he said.
"I know." she said her voice soft and low.
"I'll leave Grey Wind with you, he'll look after you while I'm gone and ensure I return." he said with a smile, receiving a half one from her in return.
"Well that makes it all better then, it was the wolf I'd miss after all." she said with a laugh and he pretended to frown before laughing too.
He left a few days later. Saying his goodbyes Lord Wyman presented him with a small dagger to wear at his hip.
"You never know when you need one on a ship lad, listen to Wendel, follow his lead."
"I thank you my lord."
"My lady I shall return with great haste and perhaps carrying a present too." he said getting a smile from Wynafred.
"Be safe my lord." she said and he nodded.
He knelt down to Grey Wind feeling strange about leaving him behind, but seeing the wolf's eyes looking at him, he could see the wolf understood. Later on that night after the ship had sailed, he lay in the bed looking up at the ceiling and wondering how everyone was faring. He closed his eyes and soon was asleep having the strangest dream.
The street felt cold beneath his feet as he made his way back to the castle, the blood still pooled beneath his lips, the bird hadn't been large and he didn't eat it out of need or hunger. But he needed to hunt, needed to be able to provide for himself should the need arrive. While these two foots gave him food, while his own two foot made sure he had plenty, hunger could come any time.
The two foots with their metal arms let him pass and he walked through the castle, his own two foot was gone, but he knew he'd return, for now he'd stay with the two foot who smelled of the trees, smelled of the forest and the sea. The door opened and he walked in, laying on the bed, her arms around him, he slept as she did, and both of them wished to see his two foot soon.
Kings Landing 294 AC.
Robert.
He was bored yet again, denied a tourney yet again, ignored by his wife yet again, and buried deep in a whore yet again. This was what he'd fought a rebellion for? This is why he'd killed the dragonspawn?. He rolled off the whore and got up and staggered to the privy for a piss, belching and farting as he stood there watching the stream hit the ground. Once done he walked back in, the girl was dark-haired, young, pretty enough he supposed but she was no Lyanna, not even close.
He sent her on her way and emptied his wine glass in one swallow while sitting on the edge of the bed, Jon had asked to see him, asked him to be sober, but he couldn't be bothered, his foster father only wished to gainsay him, to tell him what he should be doing. Gods he swore sometimes the man thought himself the king, while Robert had no problem abdicating responsibility, he wasn't ready yet to give up the crown. He called for the servants, had them dress him and stood looking at himself in the looking glass.
The Demon of the Trident, the man he'd once been was well on his way to being a distant memory now, well on his way. But what was the point, why did he need to stay in shape, what did he have to inspire him of a morning?. There were no battles to be fought, no tourneys to compete in, no Lyanna to impress, nothing, a crown, a wife who despised him and a lack of people who he wished to see, and even less he wished to speak to.
"Ned, you were supposed to be here by my side, you, me, Lyanna, what we could have done." he whispered softly as he closed his eyes, searching for that perfect picture of the life he hoped would have been his.
"Your Grace, Lord Arryn is waiting." the girl said, was that a girl, she was too slim to be a man, but he couldn't tell, he just sent them to tell Jon to wait longer.
He knew Jon was coming to complain about coin, coming to count coppers yet again, hadn't he cut back enough, hadn't he allowed him to cancel the tourney, allowed him to not hold the feasts, gods it must be at least a week since he held a feast. He was the king and was being forced to eat simple fare, hold family dinners, last night there must have been less than a hundred in the hall. He sighed, turned from the looking glass and walked to his chair, a chair, not a throne, he barely sat in that monstrosity any more.
Sending the servant away he sat, not drinking, feeling the headache coming upon him already, knowing that by the time Jon left it would be fully here, but at least then he could drink it away. At least then he could be left alone with his dreams, would he see her face again today? Would he see their boy? Ned's boy, he looked like her? So much like her, he knew he was his friend's son, but he looked like Lyanna and that made him to Robert, theirs.
"Your Grace." Jon said walking in.
"For fucks sake Jon, we're alone, call me by my damn name." he said feeling the thumping in his head begin.
"Robert, we need to discuss the Tyrell's."
"What have the Roses done now?" he said getting agitated.
"They've withdrawn their coin." Jon said and he looked at him incredulously
"You told me to give them Tommen, that would ensure their coin, you and that lickspittle of yours, both of you in this room told me to give them my son, and I did, despite wanting to give them nothing more than my hammer, I did, now you're saying that's not enough.
"A future betrothal over ten years away is not enough Robert, I told you that."
"I'll not give them a crown, they'll not have Joffrey."
"Robert we have no choice, without their support we will run out of coin."
"I don't bloody care, they'll not have a crown, if I have to eat bowls of fucking brown, they'll not have a crown from me."
"Robert be reasonable." Jon said in that tone he hated.
"I am being fucking reasonable, I gave them a prince, despite my own feelings I gave them a prince. I'll not give them a crown, Joffrey will marry Ned's girl and that's my final word on it."
"Robert." Jon said and he remembered that tone well, that was the tone he used when Robert had told him of Mya, the tone he used when he chastised him for fighting and drinking in the Vale, but this wasn't the Vale, this was Kings Landing and he was the king.
"NO." he shouted surprising Jon who looked at him oddly.
"Robert, without the betrothal, without at least giving them it, we're fucked, we can always break it later once we're more secure, but for now we can allow them to believe they've been given the keys to the throne." Jon said softly as if he was speaking to a child.
Robert couldn't believe what he was saying to him, what he was suggesting, a drunk and whoremonger he may have become, but he was true to his word, he would live by what he said, even more so with the crown on his head. As High as Honor, his foster father's words, and here he was suggesting that Robert be dishonorable, that Robert behaves like the dragons, no he'd not.
"You would have me lie, have the realm see me as a liar?"
"I would have us solvent Robert, without their coin we're not."
"I don't fucking care about their coin, you would have me lie, have my word be meaningless, what kind of king would you have me Jon?".
"A king who ruled." Jon said angrily.
"You are my Hand, find another way. I'll not betroth Joffrey to their girl, he will marry Ned's and that's final."
"Robert please see reason."
"I am, for once I am, should I break this betrothal sometime in the future, I'll be no better than the dragons. You would have me like them, you would have me shame Ned into seeing his daughter looked upon as second choice, as no better than a rose, no I'll not have it, find another way."
Jon stood silently for a few moments, before looking at him.
"Give Ned another match Robert, Princess Myrcella and his son perhaps."
"No, I want him here." Robert said, Ned's son would be Warden of the North just like his father, it would be years more for Ned to come to visit if Myrcella was already living in the North.
"Then betroth Tommen, Ned has another daughter, betroth her to Tommen and Joffrey to the rose, then remove him from the line, allow Tommen to be king, that way you get to do both Robert."
"No, I'll not create another dance for when I'm gone, I'll not have my children behaving like dragonspawn and fighting over my throne, I'll not put Ned's girl in danger. I've spoken my mind on this, it's not for changing."
"Then I don't know what we'll do, I don't know where the coin will come from." Jon said exasperated.
"The Iron Bank."
"Will bankrupt us." Jon said.
"So be it, but I'll not change my mind on this Jon, not on this, you'll not have your way,"
He watched as Jon stormed from the room, he looked to his table, to the wine there and then he ignored it, getting up he walked from the room and nodded to Ser Barristan who followed. He reached the children's room to see Horpe and Oakheart standing guard, both standing that much straighter when he saw them. He pushed the door open to see his daughter and his son, sitting on the floor playing with a cat, both of them laughing as they did so, he smiled, and thought of going inside, but didn't.
Turning he walked to seek out his other son, but got distracted by the sound of spars coming from outside, walking to the room with the balcony he looked down, seeing boys practice, the sight stirring in him memories of his own time in the Vale. He looked down at a dark-haired boy moving badly with a sword and he pictured him again, Ned's boy, the boy who looked like Lyanna, the boy who should have been their son.
Winterfell 294 AC.
Theon Greyjoy.
The guards followed him everywhere, but they were conflicted, they listened to their liege, but the change in circumstances had them thinking things odd. So while on the face of it they were dutiful, attentive and diligent, they were actually very much not, Theon while not being allowed to go to the brothel, still managed to sneak out to it. Still found his way to it, so it was there he began to plan, the girl helped, considering the things he made her do for coin, this was far more pleasant.
So for moons he planned, he waited and he stewed in his anger, picturing the face of the person he blamed for the changes to his life. He had hated the bastard from the moment he met him, how he looked at him that very first day he'd arrived in Winterfell, how he looked down on him, him the heir to the Iron Islands, looked down on by bastard. But then he was gone and Theon had gotten close to Robb, just as his father had told him, get close to the heir, bide your time, for one day that would allow you your chance to escape.
But he had grown to like Robb, grown to like being in Winterfell, it was far better than the islands, the islands didn't have girls like Ros or Betha and he'd not found a girl who'd do what they'd do, all for a few coppers or a silver stag. He had seen once many years ago how a salt wife was treated, his uncle Euron, telling him it was time he learned to be a man, but that compared to what Ros would do willingly, was just not for him.
"Do you have them?" he asked Betha who nodded showing him what she'd gotten.
"Aye my lord."
The clothes would do, they'd have to, now he only needed to bide his time, he knew he should be getting back, but he could see her teats when she bent down and so taking the coppers he handed them to her, watching as she undressed.
At first, he had assumed things would return to normal once the bastard left, that this nightmare he'd brought upon him would end, that Robb would go back to being his friend and his life would return to normal. So he grinned and bared it and bided his time and waited for the bastard to leave. But it hadn't, it had gotten worse, Robb barely spoke to him and then he was gone, Arya laughed at him, called him names and when he went to slap her, that wolf of hers made it clear he'd lose a hand if he did so.
Now though things were calmer, the guards even more lax, Lord Stark wrapped up in work so much he barely even glared at him anymore. For a moon or so between that and how Arya would follow him, he knew he was screwed, but things had changed and tomorrow Lord Stark would ride to Deepwood Motte, that was his chance. He had snuck his other things out the day before, his clothes, his bow, his knife and sword, all had taken him moons to get back, moons to know how and when to take them.
As he ate at the back of the hall, he looked to the table he'd once sit at, looked to see it empty now, he, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, all of them had been happy until the bastard arrived, his life had been perfect until the bastard arrived.
"You all right?" he heard one of the servants ask.
"Aye."
"You look like you've just realized you've done something unpleasant in your breeches." the girl said and the table and a few around it laughed and he grimaced.
This was what he'd been reduced to, the heir of the Iron Islands, reduced to being a laughing stock for servants and guards. All thanks to Jon Snow. He looked around the hall, memorizing the faces, picturing them for when he came back. Feigning tiredness he asked for an early night, enjoying the look on the guard's faces, they'd be drunk before too long. He waited until the hour of the eel and then he climbed from his window.
He cut through the godswood, grabbing his things, moving quickly, he climbed the wall and then waited for the guard at the North Gate to take his piss, once he left to do so he ran as fast as he could. He skirted the walls and then less than an hour later he was free and heading east, the miller's house was not too far away, the man's horse pitiful, but it would put some distance between him and Winterfell.
He looked back over his shoulder, seeing the grey walls look black in the night, one day he'd return here, one day they'd pay for how they treated him. One day he'd be standing looking at Jon Snow as he drove his blade in his chest, one day.