16 Days since arrival
Tower of Joy
The fire crackled merrily yet Eddard felt no warmth.
He and his companions had a wonderful supper - courtesy of the Martells, and then his friends made their way to the tower, eager to get some much-needed rest. Finding himself not so much in the mood for sleep as much for solitude, Eddard came outside and sat by the fire, all by himself. As he watched the flickering flames, he wondered how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
This morning had not progressed at all the way he thought it would. When he rode up to the tower and saw Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne - Sword of the Morning standing armed and ready, Eddard had wondered how many of his men would make it through the day, whether he himself would. A fight had seemed inevitable, until the Kingsguard sheathed their weapons and invited him to meet his sister.
His sister, who, unlike everyone believed, had not been abducted by Rhaegar, rather had gone willingly with him. She had confessed that she hadn't eloped merely out of love for the Targaryen Prince, but also to escape her upcoming marriage to Robert.
Eddard had been wroth when he heard that. Robert was a good man, an able warrior and the soon-to-be Lord of Storm's End. He was a worthy match for his sister, which is why he had suggested it in the first place. But as he sat by the fire, in the company of his own thoughts, he had to admit there was some truth to Lyanna's words when she called Robert "an unrepentant manwhore".
When the Mad King called for their heads, Robert had pledged that he would not rest until he had liberated Lyanna from the vile clutches of Rhaegar. Yet, as the war went on there was no end to the line of whores that went inside Robert's quarters, as well as the laughter that came out of it. Sometimes, Eddard could not help but feel that for Robert, the war had less to do with rescuing Lyanna and more to do with experiencing the rush of the next battle and then revelling in the latest victory.
It made him wonder if things might have been different had he never offered Robert's name for Lyanna's intended. Would his father and brother still be alive if instead of leaving with Rhaegar, Lyanna had stayed and tried to change their minds?
"Penny for your thoughts?"
So deep in his own ruminations, Eddard didn't even hear the man approach. Turning around with a jolt, he realised it was the sorcerer.
"I beg your pardon?" said Eddard.
"It's an expression," said the sorcerer, taking a seat by the fire. "It means - what's on your mind?"
"A lot," Eddard said heavily, turning back to the fire.
He was still of two minds about what to think of the boy - atleast Eddard thought he was a boy. On one hand, he was immensely grateful that he had been there to save Princess Elia and her children, to say nothing of saving his own sister. On the other hand, Eddard wondered why such a powerful wizard was helping them seemingly without asking for anything in return.
"I would imagine," said the sorcerer. "Here." He turned his head to find a bottle with some kind of golden liquid being offered to him, the wizard having produced it from somewhere. Eddard took it carefully, marvelling at the perfectly transparent glass which must've cost a good bit of coin.
"What is this?" he enquired.
"Butterbeer," said the wizard. "It's not alcoholic, but where I come from it's one of the best drinks there is. You're lucky I had two of them on me when I came over." He raised his own bottle. "Cheers," he said.
"Cheers." Eddard returned the strange toast and took a sip of the amber coloured liquid.
His eyes widened as the rich creamy drink touched his lips, bringing a smooth and sweet taste with it. In that moment, Eddard felt like he had stepped into a warm, whimsical memory he never knew he had. It felt cosy and nostalgic - like spring in a bottle. The warmth spread through his chest like a gentle hug, making him feel like a child again, without a care in the world.
He stared at the bottle, wondering how something could taste that good. A chuckle drew his attention to the wizard.
"I remember my first time drinking butterbeer. It tasted divine," he smiled. "I take it you liked it?"
"It's very good," said Eddard. "Thank you."
He waved it off. "You looked like you could use a drink," he said, taking a swig. "So, what's on your mind?"
Eddard took a swig, feeling much better than he had been a moment ago. "I was just thinking about how this entire war could've been prevented if Rhaegar and Lyanna hadn't been so...rash," he said.
"On that we disagree," said the wizard, shaking his head.
"How so?" asked Eddard, curious.
"If the rebellion had only been about Rhaegar supposedly abducting Lyanna, it would've never happened in the first place. No one would've gone to war simply because the Crown Prince caused an indiscretion," said the wizard confidently.
"No, the war was about removing Aerys from power - a madman who was setting people on fire and laughing while they burnt alive," he continued. "Even if the unfortunate incident with your father and brother hadn't happened, it was only a matter of time before Aerys set a lord on fire that could no longer go along with his deranged antics. The lord's heir would've reacted and then the war would've happened anyway, and you and your family would've been forced to join in."
Eddard considered this as they sat in silence, nursing their drinks by the fire. His words were certainly true. Aerys' deteriorating mental state had been cause of concern for the entirel realm. There had been discontent brewing among the masses regarding the Mad King's cruel deeds. It was just a cruel twist of fate that his family had to be the spark that lit the fire of rebellion.
"Perhaps you are right," conceded Eddard. "Perhaps war was inevitable," he said slowly, turning to the fire. "Still, I wish it had never happened. I wish Lyanna hadn't gone with Rhaegar. I wish Brandon hadn't gone to King's Landing. I wish I, the second son, wasn't here as Lord of Winterfell instead of my father." He sighed. "I wish none of it had ever come to pass."
The wizard looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide." Eddard turned to look at him. "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. Everything happens for a reason, Lord Stark. Your sister was meant to go with Rhaegar, thereby bringing your nephew into this world. In which case, you were meant to be Lord of Winterfell," he smiled, "and that is an encouraging thought."
Eddard smiled at those words despite himself. Some of the burden, as well as some of the guilt, washed away as he listened to the stranger's comforting words.
"Thank you," Eddard said genuinely. "You are wise beyond your years, good ser."
"Well, I am a wizard," he smiled conspiratorially. "It's an occupational hazard."
Eddard laughed aloud in good humour. Extending his arm he said, "You can call me Ned."
The wizard grasped his arm. "Well met, Ned. You can call me Ben," he reciprocated.
"Ben, it is," agreed Ned.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, drinking their butterbears. At one point, Ned wondered how his drink hadn't run out yet and looked at the bottle closely. To his surprise, the liquid inside was slowly refilling by itself. He turned to Ben and received a mischievous wink in return. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he brought the bottle up to his lips for another delightful swig.
"I hear you're leaving tomorrow?" asked Ben.
"Yes," said Eddard. "It's been almost a year since we left the North." In his mind's eye, he pictured Winterfell with his wife Catelyn in front of it, welcoming him home. "Lyanna seems well enough to travel, thanks to you," he gave a grateful nod to Ben. "She misses home, we all do." Here he paused, the earlier dilemma raising its head. "Only, I don't know how I'm going to explain things to Robert," he admitted.
"That's easy," said Ben unconcernedly. "Lie."
"Lie?" frowned Ned. "To the king?"
"In this context, he's not the king." Ben pointed out. "He's the man your sister was betrothed to, against her will. If she doesn't want to marry him, that's her prerogative."
Ned thought about it. "But what do I tell Robert?" he asked.
"That she's forever out of his reach," said Ben. "I'll conjure another fake cadaver in Lyanna's likeness. Take it to King's Landing, tell Robert that you found her dead in the tower with no sign of the Kingsguard in vicinity. That'll explain how all of your men made it back alive."
"But what if someone saw Lyanna alive?" said Ned.
"They won't," Ben replied confidently. "I'll provide her with a means of disguise. Not even her closest friends or family will be able to recognise her as Lyanna Stark," he assured Ned.
Ned considered this in his mind. After what happened in the capital, he certainly wasn't looking forward to leaving Lyanna in the South. Starks belonged in the North.
"What are you going to do with your nephew?" asked Ben.
"I will claim him as my own and raise him with my family at Winterfell," he replied.
"Are you sure?" said Ben. "You could say he is your brother's?"
"Brandon's?" said Ned.
"I hear he was quite the rambunctious fellow," offered Ben.
Ned shook his head. "I will not sully my late brother's memory by saying he sired a child out of wedlock," he said solemnly.
"In that case, I suggest you tell your wife the truth," said Ben, "about Lyanna and everything else."
Again, Ned was forced to shake his head. "It's too dangerous," he said simply.
"It's too dangerous otherwise," Ben said resolutely. "We humans are selfish creatures, Ned. Sharing has never been our strong suit, especially when it comes to love. To lay with a woman after a battle and accidentally sire a child can be dismissed as a sign of lust - a vice women understand men can sometimes succumb to when their blood is running hot and therefore, can forgive. Yet to bring that child home, and to raise him along with your legitimate children is a sign of love. Not just for the child himself, but for his mother. That is something no self-respecting woman will rightly forgive."
"If you do not explain the circumstances to your wife, I can tell you exactly how things will progress," Ben said with an air of certainty. "Your relationship with your wife will become strained the moment you introduce Percival as your bastard. Everytime you look at her, you will see the quiet hurt and blame in her eyes. And that is nothing compared to the hatred she will feel towards your nephew, the living reminder of your supposed infidelity and her great shame. It is the lady who runs the household, Ned. Even if your wife can somehow rise above her base desires and not treat the child too harshly for your sake, the servants in the castle will surely pick up on her apparent displeasure and treat him poorly for her sake."
Ned started feeling apprehensive the more and more he listened to Ben. In his mind, he just couldn't picture sweet Catelyn as such a vengeful woman.
"And let us not even begin to talk about Lyanna," continued Ben. "You will probably introduce her as a wet nurse you picked up to look after your bastard." He looked Ned in the eye. "A young woman that none of your men saw prior to you returning with your bastard, one that seems unusually devoted to the child, one that you sometimes talk to or even laugh with. It doesn't take a lot to wrongly hypothesise about her identity, does it?"
"Oh, very well!" Ned conceded in exasperation, feeling slightly revolted at the thought of his sister being assumed as his lover. "You've made your point."
"I hope so," said Ben. "I didn't save them so they would suffer for years, when everything could have been resolved with a few simple words."
"They won't," said Ned, "I promise."
Ben watched him closely, before nodding. "I'll take your word for it," he said. Looking around the barren hilltop, he gave a sigh and stood up. "Get some sleep, Ned. You've got a long day tomorrow."
Ned nodded and finally stood up as well. "Good night, Ben," he said. Returning the bottle long since empty of its wonderful elixer, he made his way to the tower, feeling much lighter than before.
/////////////////////////////////////
The Next Morning
Tower of Joy
The morning came and with it the time to part ways. We all gathered at the foot of the tower one last time.
"Do you have to go?" Rhaenys said tearfully.
"Alas I must, dear one," I said gently, down on one knee and looking her in the eyes. "There are some things I have to take care of back home. Just like you, there are others that need my help. A wizard's work is never done, you see." I smiled.
She seemed to understand that, although grudgingly. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked softly, almost as if dreading the answer.
"There is always hope," I said. "As for certainty... yes, you will." She smiled brightly on hearing that. "It will just take a few years. In the meantime, I leave you with these."
I extracted two books from my ring - The Tales of Beedle the Bard and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
"These are two of my favourite books," I said, passing them on to her. "I hope you enjoy them just as much as I did."
"Thank you," she smiled happily.
"You're welcome," I said, straightening up. "Oh, almost forgot." I took out all the sweets I had on me, including Fizzing Whizzbees, Licorice Wands, Sugar Quills, Chocoballs and Honeydukes Best Chocolate.
"Yes!" The little gremlin almost tossed the books at her mother, such was her great hurry to collect all the sweets in her eager arms. She watched them with shining eyes, having tasted all of them by now.
"Now don't go eating all of them at once, or you'll get a tummy ache, you hear?" I chuckled as she nodded obediently. "And share some with your mother."
"I will," she said cutely. "Promise."
"Good," I smiled at her one last time, before moving to Elia.
"Princess..." I began formally.
"Oh please," she scoffed, coming forward and hugging me. I smiled, shaking my head good-naturedly at her fiery personality. "I am going to miss you, Ben," she said as we came apart.
"As will I," I said. "I'm glad to have met you, Elia. Here," I offered her a necklace I had made only a few days ago.
Elia let out a surprised gasp, gently taking the amulet from my hand. "For me?" she asked with a smile.
"No, for him," I pointed to Oberyn in all seriousness. Elia huffed while her brothers and I chuckled.
"Go on," I encouraged her to put it on.
Elia didn't need telling twice. She eagerly raised the ends of the pendent to her neck. As she fitted the clasp, shocked gasps rang out all around her.
"What?!" she asked hurriedly.
I conjured a mirror and just like everyone else, Elia gasped as well, shocked at seeing a completely different face staring back at her.
"Ben?" she asked, confused.
I pointed to the necklace. "Take it off," I said. She did as I asked and undid the clasp. At once, the reflection in the mirror became her own again.
"I call it The Necklace of Disguise," I stated proudly. "It creates a powerful illusion that shows the observers a completely different set of facial features than that of the wearer. At the same time, it modulates the sound waves travelling through the air to create a different voice tone. With this, no one will be able to recognise you anymore. You can stay in Dorne, or go anywhere in the world without any worries." I explained with a smile.
Elia looked at me with a complicated gaze. Without saying anything, she sighed and hugged me again.
"Thank you... for everything," she said softly.
"You're welcome," I smiled. "I was actually planning on making a Ring of Disguise, but after watching Lord of the Rings, I thought you might feel a bit twitchy about wearing one," I joked.
She lightly huffed. "You presumed right," she said. I returned her smile, my eyes drifting down to little Aegon.
"What about you, little fella? Are you going to miss your Uncle Ben, hmm?" I said, taking him into my arms for the last time. With a thought, a tiny ball of Magelight manifested over his head, much to his delight. "Here... it's for him." I handed a phial to Elia.
"What is it?" she asked, taking the yellow coloured potion.
"Colour Change Potion," I said, tickling the little chap while he cutely giggled. "It will permanently change his silver locks to dark brown hair. Looking at him, everyone will think he's just a dornish kid and not one of the last Targaryens," I smiled.
Elia looked at the potion in her hand, before looking back at me. She didn't thank me again but I could see that the potion meant more to her than the necklace.
"May I say something?" I asked hesitantly, looking at the little prince.
Elia looked at me as if I were an idiot. "Need you ask?" she said.
"I know you want Aegon to one day sit on the Iron Throne," I began. Elia started to say something, but I raised my hand telling her to let me finish first. "which is fine. You are his mother, it's only natural for you to want him to grow up happy, strong and powerful."
"But here's the thing about power, Elia - power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely," I said seriously, to Elia's growing concern. "Which is why, the only people who can be safely entrusted with power...are those who have never wanted it. So, before you try to teach little Aegon how to be a great king, I want you to teach him how to be a good man." I said with a smile.
Elia looked deeply into my eyes and took my hand into hers. "I will try," she earnestly promised.
"That is all I ask," I smiled, and turned to her brothers.
"Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn, it was a pleasure to meet you both," I said to the Martell brothers.
Doran cordially shook my hand and thanked me again, while Oberyn just pulled me in for a big hug like his sister.
Saying my farewells to Areo and Maester Caleotte, I stood in front of the Kingsguard. "Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell, Ser Arthur," I nodded to the Targaryen knights. The three of them had decided to stay in Dorne for now, none of them keen on bending the knee to Robert Baratheon. "Gentlemen, I hope to see you all again someday," I said.
"As do we, Master Wizard," said Ser Gerold amiably, while his fellow knights nodded in respect. They had been a bit dubious about me at first, but came around after watching Gandalf during movie nights. Such is the power of a good story that they almost pulled out their swords when Aragorn yelled "Men of the West".
"Lady Lyanna," I nodded to the northern beauty. "This is for you," I held out another necklace, "and some advice, if you will."
"Of course," she smiled, taking the amulet.
"Do not dwell in the past, for it does one no good," I said earnestly. "What happened, happened and couldn't have happened any other way... because it didn't," I held her gaze as she lightly nodded, looking a bit relieved. "The best you can do now is live your life... both for your sake and little Jon's."
"Jon?" she asked in confusion.
I looked at her son. "A name like Percival draws attention. You might want to go with something inconspicuous for a while," I said and she nodded in understanding.
I gave a nod to the other northerners. I told Ned that I could modify their memories so that they would only remember the cover story and not the actual events of yesterday, but he had declined. Apparently, he trusted them all and considering at this point Starks were treated like royalty in the north, I didn't press the issue. Besides, even if they do end up blabbing, who's going to believe a tall tale of flying carpets and magical tents.
"Ned," Finally I shook hands with Sean Bean. "I wish you good fortune in the years to come," I said.
"You as well, my friend," he said with a smile.
We watched as the northerners mounted their steeds and took off, Lyanna riding on the extra horse secured the night before from the stables of Sunspear via a portal. With a sigh I took out the Anywhere Door from my ring. I watched with a smile as the new friends I made in the course of little over a fortnight stepped through a glowing circle of magic back to their sand-coloured palace. I opened the door content in the knowledge that this would definitely not be my last time in this world.