After the conversation with Sam, Jon retired to his room but sleep wouldn't come quickly. The idea that had popped into his mind wouldn't let him rest. He clearly remembered every word Uncle Aemon had told him about how some Targaryens could use a certain substance to invoke visions. The mixture of a rare plant and the spores of a certain type of mushrooms might awaken the abilities of their Valyrian blood and possibly induce hallucinations that focussed on his house's future. And that was exactly what he needed!
But his great-great-uncle had cautioned him that it was important to get the mixture just right and even then, the after effects could be long lasting and dangerous. He had further warned his nephew that in his particular case things might even be more dangerous since his Stark blood had the potential of giving its owner visions without the use of enhancements. It might well be that the concentration necessary for a full-blooded member of House Targaryen might be too strong for him. Uncle Aemon had made him swear only to undertake such a risky thing if a situation presented itself that was worth the risk, for example helping the members of House Targaryen to save many lives.
Jon couldn't shake the idea however that this was perhaps the only means to find out if the mental health of a child he sired in Dany's womb would be at risk if it had their combined blood. Asking Howland Reed was not really an option. Not only was it a delicate and selfish matter, it would also take a lot of time and even then it was a long shot. The crannogman had often enough told him that he could neither direct his visions nor be sure he received enough detail to know with absolute certainty what his visions meant.
He had a difficult decision to make. If assuring that the next generations of his house would not be affected by madness was paramount to him, he only had two options.
Option one: he said goodbye to his dream of marrying Dany right here and now and married someone else sometime in the future to give him children.
Option two: decide to take the risk, make the potion and hopefully catch a glimpse of the future himself. Even if the first option was the more rational one, it was not an optimal solution either. Uncle Aemon had warned him not to dilute the Targaryen blood any further, not with dragons back in the realm. Taking the first option would mean certain heartbreak now and the possibility of facing an extremely difficult decision before he died. How could he even contemplate killing Rhaegal and Viserion?
Although Jon had fought his great-great-uncle on the subject of marrying his aunt several times, getting to know Daenerys had made a world of difference and enticed him to choose the second option. So now he was really considering risking his health, perhaps even his life to force a vision, a greendream of his own future, the future of his house. He was well aware that this second option needed to be planned carefully. He would not be allowed to tell anyone the details of what he was doing, not even Dany. Uncle Aemon had been adamant. This was a secret only to be shared with the future head of House Targaryen.
So if he really was going to do this, he would have to do it on his own, without Sam's help, without Davos' calming influence, without Uncle Benjen's support and without his guards to protect him. Perhaps his dragons and Ghost would be willing to guard him when the substance knocked him out cold and he was unconscious for an undetermined amount of time.
He also needed to find a way to procure the two ingredients needed for the potion himself without arousing suspicion. Well, it was dark now so he could not start looking for the plants and mushrooms right away. He would do better to stop thinking about this and to try to get some sleep. He needed to be rested for his pivotal talk with Dany tomorrow afternoon.
These good intentions didn't succeed in keeping the thoughts from circling around in his mind. The talk with Dany tomorrow afternoon really needed to go smoothly this time around. To achieve that, he should have a clear mind and not be troubled or distracted by other issues. That last thought prompted him to schedule a strenuous training session in the morning. It would get his blood pumped, his mind distracted and he would be tired in a good way. His body didn't need to be alert. It was his mind that needed to be clear.
Having some beginnings of a plan in place, his mind finally agreed to let his body succumb to sleep.
***
Jon woke the next morning with the lingering memory of that wonderful dream he had already experienced a few times before. Three small children were playing, but this time not with a beautiful black egg. Instead they were playing with a small black dragon.
A smile lingered on his face as well. He wondered who these children were. He had felt a kinship to them but wasn't sure if they were supposed to be his children, his grandchildren, future nieces or nephews or kin even further down his line. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that this was more than just a mere dream. He almost believed but certainly hoped that it was a glimpse of a possible future. He felt rejuvenated somehow and dressed quickly.
Despite his short night, Jon had energy to spare during his impromptu rather intensive training session with Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell. Halfway through both knights had admitted defeat and had doubled up facing Jon simultaneously. Jon was relentless today. It was clear the young man had to blow off some steam. It seemed he was trying to lose the stress and frustration of the last few sennights in one training session.
Jon realised that it had been a while since Ser Gerold had seen him go all out in the training yard. Now Jon had both of them on the defensive once more. Ser Gerold was glad the Prince finally gave up and sat down on a low wall.
"What has gotten into you this morning, my Prince? You fought like you had to save the lives of your loved ones."
"Giving all I have is what you taught me to do, Ser Gerold. I had not found the time for an intensive session for a sennight at least. I wanted to make up for it. We need to schedule regular morning sessions again. There has been little opportunity to spar at Castle Black or beyond the Wall. And even during those trainings, I had to hold back for most of the session. It wouldn't have been polite to trash Nymeria Sand or humiliate Tormund Giantsbane in front of his men."
"If you are getting too old to keep up with me, perhaps there are younger guards willing to train with me?" Jon appealed to their pride but his eyes twinkled in amusement.
"Not so fast, young man. Next time you will do some physical training first and practice some moves we show you. Then we will come in all fresh and highly motivated to kick your ass. Even with our slightly more advanced number of celebrated namedays, we are still substantially better than any guard you can find out here. You would only scare the poor men all the way to King's Landing and we want to keep them here, loyal to us. Do not underestimate the value of our experience. I saw several of your moves coming from a mile away." Ser Gerold was quick to tone his Prince's smugness down a nudge.
"That's because you were the ones that taught me those combinations in the first place. You know more than eighty per cent of my moves and I still beat you. How do you explain that?" Sweat was starting to tickle down his face and Jon wiped it away with his sleeve.
"Well, the other twenty percent of course." Ser Oswell laughed but then grew serious. "Your speed, my Prince. You improved the frequency of your strikes enormously. You fight so fast that I seriously wonder if there is anyone out there who can keep up with you during a longer fight. Your style has improved as well. Your technique, well I challenge even Ser Arthur to find fault with it and your footwork is so light, elegant and highly efficient. How did you manage to achieve so much improvement in just a few moons?"
"Ser Arthur still found fault, believe me. Even after I beat him, he still had lots of criticism." Jon arched his eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth tugged upward. A pause ensued. Jon's eyes looked lost in thought as he pondered the question. He lifted his head slightly ad looked at his kingsguards.
"Let me try to explain. Something did happen. There was this one training session that everything just kind of fell into place. If I had to put it into words, I would say that I suddenly found my own rhythm or something of the sort. I might even profess that I found my own style. I no longer think about which foot to place in front or when to step to the side or even which combination of strokes to go for next. It just comes naturally. My entire body and mind are linked to my sword."
Jon got nervous not knowing if they really understood him or believed what he was telling them. He spun his training sword with one arm and tried to express himself more clearly. "I can mostly read what my opponent plans as his next move with plenty of time to spare and I often have to hold back. That is why it is nice to spar with you two again. At the Wall, only Ser Arthur and Sandor could keep up with me and Sandor's head wasn't always in the game. Too many late nights with Tormund and the ladies, I suspect."
He put down his sword since his fiddling was not helping him concentrate on the discussion. "I also did a lot of scouting beyond the Wall and there wasn't much time left to spar. I hope at least two out of the three of you can show up each morning for an intensive training session as long as I am here? I would like to keep the skill level I have attained and if possible improve some more. I know I need to gain more strength. I have to develop more muscles. So if you can find some exercises that focus on that, by all means, tire me out before you fight me. I am feeling very ambitious. I want to make sure I can face any opponent, no matter how tall, how strong or how skilled." Jon looked at Ser Gerold specifically when he voiced his goals.
"Then come prepared tomorrow, my Prince. I promise we will not make it easy on you." His Lord Commander was quick to oblige.
"I look forward to it. Thanks for this session, Ser Oswell, Ser Gerold." Jon picked up his training sword, got up from the short wall and stretched his slightly stiffened up limbs. "I am going to freshen up. Shall I see you at lunch?"
"I'll escort you to your room, my Prince." Ser Oswell offered and together they walked toward the castle."
Ser Gerold watched them leave and shook his head in wonderment. He had never seen a man fight like that before. Not even the Sword of the Morning. All credit to Ser Arthur though. The boy mastered his footwork and had impeccable technique. He was lightening fast and fought smart as well. 'And driven,' he added as an afterthought. To fight like that and ask for more intensive training, their Prince was one of a kind.
He picked up some discarded pieces of armour and felt the stiffness in his back. Jon was right. He was getting old. He shook his head. The two of them simultaneously trying their utmost had barely been able to hold off one young man. He would have liked to see Jon defeat Ser Arthur, even if it had happened during a single bout. It would surely happen more often now. He wondered how long ago it had been that the Sword of the Morning had needed to admit defeat in a sparring session when he had been healthy and giving it his all. With a contented smile on his face, he started the long walk back to the castle.
***
Jon took a hot bath to ease his sore muscles. He felt tired but extremely relaxed. His mind was empty. He felt as nice as after a mind sharing session with his dragons. He could sense the blood flow through his body and felt like he could take on the world. Well he would need to take on Daenerys. Somehow that thought didn't scare him as much as it had done last night. He even looked forward to it now.
He put on his nicest outfit and together with Ser Oswell who also appeared with wet hair and a clean garb, they walked to the room where they usually took their meals. He knew his Kingsguards were wondering what was going on between him and the Targaryen Princess but he appreciated the fact that they kept silent on that subject. Neither a word, a hint nor a look had been uttered about it during his training session not even while Ser Oswell escorted him back to the castle and left him in front of the door to his quarters. Jon really was lucky with such loyal people surrounding him.
When he entered the modest room where they preferred to partake of their morning and midday meals, Daenerys was already seated. It was the first time he saw her today. He smiled, glad to see her relax a bit upon witnessing that he was looking not the least bit nervous himself. Still the meal was somewhat awkward due to the intense scrutiny of Ser Barristan.
When Jon teased Ser Gerold that he needed to train more to keep up, the men started to banter and the tension around the table eased. Daenerys even laughed out loud one time at something Ser Oswell said. To Jon's immense relief, Sam noticed the discomfiting stares Ser Barristan directed at Jon distracted the knight by asking him about the building styles in Pentos.
Daenerys was the first one to retreat when the meal was over. She looked somewhat nervous when she told Jon that she wanted to change into something better suited for a ride than the dress she was currently wearing and promised to meet him out on the cliff where she had met the dragons the day before. Jon nodded his head and watched her leave, his heart beating loudly. He would follow Sam's advice and somehow it would all work out. Sam smiled encouragingly at him when Jon left the table soon after.
***
He stood out on the windy cliff long before Daenerys showed up. He distracted his mind by counting the ships he could see from up here. He counted almost fifty and knew there were others in the smaller bay that was not visible from here. Most of them had come from the Driftmark, a smaller number had come all the way from White Harbour. He knew a lot more were on their way.
At least sixty ships out of the one hundred and twenty that lay in White Harbour as a part of his future royal fleet would make the trip to Dragonstone in small convoys of five ships. It was necessary to move them gradually since they did not want to draw undue attention to an armada gathering so close to King's Landing.
He turned his head and inspected the far cliff where he could see the encampments that were growing larger by the day. More than half of the crew stayed on land now and Ser Gerold had given them leave to establish camp there close to a small village that provided the necessary infrastructure. The people had taken the Prince's speech to heart and were cooperating nicely. It did help that they received a fair fee for their services. Soon Dragonstone would thrive like never before.
Ser Oswell stood next to Jon on the cliff and surveyed the goings on as well. He had promised his Prince to make himself scarce as soon as Dany arrived with Ser Barristan. Both knights would be free from duty anyway once Jon and Dany flew off on Rhaegal.
Finally Jon saw her descend the long stairway. Her figure looked small and fragile from where he stood. She was wearing breeches. That much he could make out. The coat she wore over them had an elegant cut and betrayed her gender, as did the braids of silverwhite hair. Jon swallowed. He really hoped he would be able to find the right words this time around.
"Well, here we are," she said nervously studying his face when she finally stood before him.
"I hope you are nervous about riding a dragon and not about having to talk to me, Dany." He took her hand, his face betraying neither thought nor mood while performing this simple gesture. "Would you prefer I call the dragons now, or do you want to talk first?"
"Call the dragons?" She proposed hesitantly. "I have been dreaming all night about seeing the world from up high."
"Give me a moment. Last I checked they were slumbering in the caves near the beach." Jon closed his eyes for what seemed like a very short moment. "They are on their way and eager to take us both up in the air, Dany. Come on. Let's move away from the edge. We will mount Rhaegal over there." With his free arm he pointed to a spot to her left.
When they approached the green dragon, Daenerys looked at his enormous flank in wonder. "However am I going to get all the way up there?" She spoke her thoughts out loud.
His earnest eyes look into hers. "Rhaegal and I will help you. See him lowering his wing already? You can use it as a makeshift stairway. Once up there, grab one of his spines and pull yourself up. I will be right behind you and can lift you up if necessary."
In the end Jon hardly needed to help her. She sat there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Jon installed himself behind her, gathered his arms around her and took hold of the spike in front of them.
She held on to the one before that. Safely nestled between his strong thighs and arms she let the warmth of the dragon flow through her. "Aegon, this is amazing already. I envy you."
"Hold on," he warned moments before Rhaegal took off. Viserion followed and flew very close to their left side. Jon knew all too well the silverwhite dragon was keeping an eye on him to make sure he behaved this time with the young kinswoman.
The upward motion catapulted Daenerys' body firmly against Jon's chest. Neither of them corrected this position when the dragon flew more level again. Jon enjoyed their combined warmth where her back touched him. This was it. This was Dany. She was the only one who could share this wonderful feeling of soaring through the sky with him. He savoured the feeling and tightened his arms around her a bit to get her attention.
"Are you enjoying yourself? Are you comfortable?" He asked his mouth close to her ear.
"I have no words to describe this feeling, Aegon. It is as if the entire world is ours. Look! See how small the fortress is. Oh, is that there the Driftmark?" Daenerys had to shout her reply so he could hear it before the wind blew the sound away.
"Yes, that is the island where I spent part of my youth. The people really love me there. We are going to circle around. Feel free to wave at them. They will welcome the sight of both of us on a dragon. Hold on tight we are going to make a steep turn now." One of his hands released Rhaegal's spine to secure her more tightly.
"Don't worry!" She shouted over the wind. "I don't think I can fall off even if I wanted to."
"In that case." Jon encouraged Rhaegal to fly random figures in the air and enjoyed her shrieks of excitement. He shifted his thighs a bit to press her tighter so she would stay safe."
Both dragons were putting on a show. Daenerys was keeping her eyes on Viserion's antics so Jon needed to point out the people of the Driftmark that were gathering on the shore to greet them. "Wave, Dany. They are watching us."
Dany hesitantly loosened one arm.
"I've got you." Jon whispered in her ear. "You're safe with me, just wave at them. Rhaegal will fly a bit lower, slower and straight for now. I'll warn you when he will turn back to fly over the beach once more to oblige the people down there."
After they made four passes over the ever growing crowd on the beach, Dany leaned back and turned her head to the right and slightly upward so she could look at Jon.
"Will we make a stop here at the Driftmark and greet the people properly?" She didn't need to shout positioned like this.
"I promised Ser Gerold I would not do that. I have given him enough to worry about lately. We agreed I would land on Dragonstone near the small bay where the other part of the fleet is anchored. He might have sent someone over there to guard us." Jon who could now see her face looking happy and excited found her more enticing than ever.
"Let's stay in the air a bit longer. I like it up here." To emphasize her words she nestled herself back in her initial position and he could feel her relax against his body. Without thinking, he drew her closer to him and held her tighter than necessary.
Jon flew low over the island showing her the small settlement and the house where he grew up and where his elderly foster grandmother still resided. She was also interested in the caves where he had hatched his dragons. Everything was going well. Their talk would go a lot smoother now that their joint flight had broken the ice. He felt his dragons' encouragement and slowly steered them back to the prearranged spot on Dragonstone.
Jon helped her descend and guided her through her first wobbly steps. "I experienced the same after my first flight. You'll get used to it. We'll do this again soon. The dragons liked having you up there with us."
"And you didn't?" She flirted totally relaxed in his presence now.
"I enjoyed it immensely. You are the only person who really understands it fully now. I can try to describe this feeling to someone else but they can never grasp the joy of soaring through the air, the intensity of the effect of their warmth, their presence flowing through our bodies. Any attempt to go into more detail feels like boasting, like I am trying to make them envious. This is something we will always have, Dany, no matter how things turn out." His expression softened as he studied her.
Dany didn't reply to that. She had experienced the dragon's warmth. How could she not. But she hadn't felt Rhaegal's presence flowing through her body the way Aegon just had described to her. She smiled back at him though not wanting to disappoint him nor disturb this feeling of compatibility, of kinship between them.
She watched Jon say a lengthy goodbye to his dragons. He had his head once more against the green dragon's scales and seemed to be having an entire conversation. Eventually both dragons took to the sky. Jon watched them for a few moments before giving her his full attention.
He took her hand and led her to a wooden bench that provided a beautiful view over the harbour. Jon had noticed Ser Barristan stand before a shelter and nodded slightly without Daenerys noticing. The knight disappeared inside the small cabin. Jon understood he would keep an eye on them discreetly through the narrow window that faced the harbour but Dany would not know he was there. He hoped it would make their talk easier if she didn't realise they were being chaperoned.
"You are done talking about things and have reached a conclusion?" She asked him when they were both seated on the bench. She was very curious to hear what he had come up with. She had lain awake most of the night, her thoughts going around in circles and was far from reaching a happy solution herself.
"Come here Dany. Sit closer." He said when he noticed her apprehensive expression.
He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer still. "It is easier to talk to you this way. When I touch you like this, you feel more accessible. Don't worry. I will not lose my temper this time around. I've made sure that I am more relaxed today. Yesterday was a difficult day for both of us for many reasons."
"Am I going to like what you are about to tell me?" She tried to decipher his mood.
In response he tightened his arm around her to give her comfort."I am going to tell you the truth, Dany. You decide whether you like it or not."
Her eyes widened and he saw her swallow.
"To avoid misunderstandings, I want to make it very clear that today is the only day I am going to address this. I will not acknowledge this talk for moons to come. We will revisit this conversation later when things have run its course." He ran a hand over his face, his heartbeat quickening as he rehearsed his next words in his mind.
She stayed silent but her eyes were big as saucers as she looked into his loving grey eyes that didn't lie to her now but showed her he cared about her … a lot. She was still shocked though when he came right out and said the words she had once heard him speak in a dream shortly after meeting him for the first time in Pentos.
"I think I love you, Dany." He paused and shook his head. "No, that is not right. Let me start that again. I know I love you. I have, from the very first moment I saw you but I wasn't ready to admit it to myself back then."
He took a deep breath. If only he could stay in this moment forever. If only he didn't have other responsibilities. He readjusted his position, removed his arm and sat more sideways now, so it was easier to face her. To add even more meaning to his words he took both her hands in his. "If I were just Jon Celtigar, an insignificant Lord of the Driftmark, I would fall on my knees before you and ask you to marry me this instant."
"But," Daenerys started, however the protest died on her lips. Jon had freed one hand so he could move it upwards and had softly put his fingers on her mouth.
"Shhh, Let me talk. You wanted an explanation for my behaviour, so better listen now that I am willing to give it." He felt her start to shake and tried to get her to fix all her attention on him.
"Dany, look at me." With a long loving look he compelled her to calm down. She swallowed a few times and nodded, her purple eyes now returning the warmth of his dark grey orbs. He withdrew his fingers from her mouth and re-established contact cradling her small hands in his.
"Let me explain myself. There are many reasons why I have been holding you at arm's length. First the obvious political ones that I explained yesterday. Then there is the fact that we are related and that incestuous relationships have caused a few of our family members to succumb to madness. I would hate to inflict that fate on one of my children."
He sighed, made an effort to smoothen the frown that had appeared on his forehead and finished explaining his motives. "Last but not least, I need to use all my focus and energy to defeat a very dangerous and powerful enemy to the North and at the same time I cannot in good faith delay my bid for the Iron Throne. To do so would endanger my loyal allies and lessen our chances substantially. Some of them have dedicated many years of their lives to my cause already. I have a responsibility to these people and I need to do everything in my power to prevent bloodshed. I cannot allow myself to get distracted, Dany. I have a lot on my plate right now."
He pulled back a bit. His concerned look met her teary eyes. The voice he used now would have to convince her that he really believed his own statements. "Therefore, I must put all personal plans on hold indefinitely. Before our uh 'talk' yesterday, I did not think it fair to ask that much of you. You are of an age to marry." He once more put his fingers tenderly on her mouth. His eyes beseeched her to let him continue.
"I still cannot promise you that we will not have to marry other people for political reasons. But I vow to you here and now that I will do my utmost to prevent that from happening. The Gods are my witness, I will try every other option first before I will give in. But Dany, please understand that I cannot have the blood of thousands of innocents on my hands if a war breaks out because I selfishly refused to secure an alliance through marriage. I could never live a happy life after that. And I think neither could you." Regret marred his features. Thoughts of the tragic relationship of his parents and its aftermath flittered through is mind. That was the reason that it took him a while to fully take in her reaction to his words.
Tears were flowing freely over her face. Jon pulled her closer again so her head could nestle itself against his chest. She hugged him desperately and he hugged her tightly in return. He used both his arms to hold her in place. Suddenly he felt her stir in his arms.
She tilted her head upwards and looked at him her eyes shiny with tears but optimism shone brightly in them. "There is hope," she reacted in a daze. Then with building excitement she added, "Aegon, you just told me there is hope! We only need to be patient and very smart. I can help. I will help! I will help you find ways to secure alliances. Please, let me help?"
Jon looked at her face that radiated love and excitement despite still being wet with tears. He disentangled one arm and gently reached out with his free hand and proceeded to wipe away the tears on her cheekbones with gentle strokes of his thumb. Softly cupping her chin, he turned her face up towards him even more. That way he could lose himself into her beautiful purple eyes. He did not need more words, those eyes revealed all that she felt and mirrored all that he felt, all that he thought.
Her lips somehow came closer. It took him a moment to realise that he was the one that was slowly bending his head towards her. With her mouth so close that he could feel her little puffs of breath he couldn't hold back any longer. He gently covered her lips with his own. I t was a sweet lingering moment that ended much too soon. When he withdrew, his lips crooked into the smallest of smiles as he watched the wonder in her eyes. He felt her sigh of contentment and knew somehow this beautiful woman had only now received her first kiss.
Not able to resist, he pulled her closer to him and kissed her again. This time it was not a ghost of a kiss. This time, he touched her lips with soft, reverent passion. Putting a hand at either side of her face, he found her lips again and again with his own, his mouth moving over hers with ever-deepening pressure. Jon lost himself in her scent, in her willing mouth in the feel of her body that rested so willingly in his arms. He kissed her as if they were the only ones in the world and she existed just for him.
And when his lips finally left her mouth, it was to worship the rest of her face with kisses, the tip of her nose, the delicate swell of her chin, her soft cheeks that were once more wet with tears, her warm loving eyes and her delicate forehead. He slowly released his hold on her chin and looked at her closed eyes and her body that was leaning a bit more towards his instinctively searching for his touch.
"Dany, this is torture. We have to stop. You do not know what you are doing to me." His stomach churned at how much his would miss this.
When she tried to pull him closer to her, he resisted. "Dany, we should stop. We must not do this. It will make things that much harder afterwards."
She held on to him almost desperately. "You said today, Aegon. You promised me today. Today we could talk about this. Let us have this one perfect day. Today we speak words of love and then we tuck them away and will perform our duty. We will, how did you put it? We will revisit this when things are settled. Kiss me today, Aegon. Please, kiss me today."
He didn't resist when she took the initiative and tentatively touched his lips with her mouth. It wasn't a desperate kiss as he had feared it would be. It started as a shy touch of her lips on his and even when she opened her mouth it only grew more intimate and still stayed sweet. Again he was the one to pull back. This time however his eyes that bore into hers spoke of devotion and passion.
"You love me, Aegon. Tell me again that you love me. I don't care if you can't hold back. I don't care about anything but having you close to me touching me, kissing me. We have today, Aegon. Perhaps we have tonight?"
"I love you Dany, like I have loved nothing else before in my life. I adore you. I always will, no matter was happens in the future. But we can't continue. Not like this Dany, and certainly not tonight."
He gently pulled back a little to create some space between them. He took both of her hands in his to soften the blow of his refusal. His face had regained its serious expression. "I will not be selfish. I have promised you the truth today and I have promised you to talk about it today. These kisses were not foreseen and are an unexpected blessing. We mustn't let it go any further. We have to keep all options open. If I have you now, I won't be able to give you up. If you only knew how much more difficult these few heavenly moments already have made it for me to stay rational and stick to the plan." He exhaled slowly.
"I can't be selfish, Dany. I cannot, I will not let thousands die just to make two persons happy. I would not be able to be happy with you with such a thing on my conscience. Could you? We have to wait Dany. Wait and pray that we will find a way to unite the Seven Kingdoms under the Targaryen banner without bloodshed and without sacrificing our personal freedom."
A tortured look and a quick kiss with of his closed lips was all she received before he continued. "There is also the issue of our kinship. We are both Targaryens, aunt and nephew. I hope my Stark blood gives us a fair chance but I will contact a greenseer first. If he sees madness in our future offspring, I will not marry you Dany, no matter our feelings. You know I need heirs to continue our house. More importantly I have to create a new generation with my blood. I require someone I can teach how to develop a bond with Rhaegal and Viserion. If I do not succeed in this endeavour, disaster may strike our Kingdoms after my death. The odds are against us, my love. So pray to the Gods to help us. I will do so too, fervently, every single day."
He looked at her small hands and kissed her palms one by one. Still holding on to her hands and with an almost frantic expression on his face, he beseeched her. "Don't cry Dany. Concentrate of the positives. As you said, there is still hope. But now you must be strong and not tempt me further. We are going to walk back to the castle. It is a nice long walk from down here. We are going to calm down, walk arm in arm and behave as we have before this day. Not a word about this will be spoken between us."
"Promise me that. Promise me you will still be able to be my best friend Dany, my confidante, the one who I can talk to as a dear member of my family and who will help me prepare for the challenges that lie ahead of me. Promise me you will wait patiently until we know what our fate will be. But most of all, promise me Dany that you will not tempt me, tempt us, promise me this upon all you hold dear." His handsome face was twisted by emotion.
This time it was she who caressed his cheeks. "I promise you, Aegon. What you ask of me will be very hard, nigh on impossible really. But I will promise you to try if you hold me one last time. If you kiss me one more time as if there is no tomorrow. I want the sweetest, most loving kiss a man has ever bestowed on a woman. I want you to give me a moment so beautiful that it can last me a lifetime if necessary. I will burn this moment in my memory so that when I close my eyes, I can experience it over and over again until such a time that we can create new memories or that I am no longer."
Both were crying when she stopped speaking. "Let us stand for this, Dany. So I can take you in my arms in a better way, in a way I have often pictured myself doing."
He helped her get up from the bench and embraced her once more. With his hands on her lower back he gently brought their bodies closer. "Close your eyes and just as during our dragonride, imagine my warmth flowing into your body. Let my warmth mix with yours there and allow our combined heath to circle back and forth between our bodies. Close your eyes, love. Our magical moment is about to start. Close your eyes and feel our warmth, our energies mix. Feel my love flow into you."
He stopped talking and every so slowly kissed the corner of her mouth, she sighed in anticipation. He moved to the other side of her mouth and kissed that spot as well. Then he gave her small ghost like kisses, their lips hardly touching. He felt her submit and follow his pace. He concentrated on her lower lip and worshiped it, only to release her mouth entirely and kiss the throbbing vein in her neck. Dany obliged him, bowing her head a bit backwards.
"Such a pale soft skin. You are perfect, Dany." He kissed her ear and bit gently in the delicate lobe. "I am going to kiss you now. Take note if you want to remember."
He moved his head slightly and kissed her lips, urging her to open them. He slipped his tongue inside as soon as she obliged him and deepened the kiss. Instead of the innocent kisses of earlier he poured all his love and passion into this one.
He felt she was struggling to breathe and released her mouth just long enough to whisper, "Breathe through your nose, your mouth is mine for now," and resumed worshipping her mouth.
Much later he slowly eased the intensity and his kisses grew sweeter, until the last one was nothing more than a soft, innocent touch of his lips just like the very first one he had given her today. He left her lips to kiss the corner of her mouth one last time and then drew his head back. He admired her red swollen lips, her eyes filled with passion, her body softly trembling in a trance like state.
They stayed glued to each other for a long time until Dany slowly came back to herself. He took one small hand in his and with a ghost of a smile on his lips he gently guided her toward the path that led to the castle. Neither of them spoke a word. Neither of them noticed the uneasy stare of Ser Barristan that followed them on their long walk back to the castle.
***
The next few days were hard for Dany. She had been lifted up to the heavens for a short moment and now she was firmly rooted to the ground the heavens far beyond her reach. When reading a book or performing small solitary chores, she often stopped to close her eyes and summon the memories of those magical moments in the small bay to convince herself that it had not been a dream, that it had really happened.
Aegon was nothing if not a man of his word. To her enormous frustration, he acted as if that day had never happened. He was the kind caring member of her house from before, from before their kisses, from before their heated argument on the cliff.
When he sat at the meal table before she entered, he always rose and assisted her with her chair, asked her about her day, whether the food was to her liking and other small inanities. She had stopped counting how many times he had made a remark about the weather. She often saw Ser Barristan's concerned looked trained upon her as well as on Aegon but the knight refrained from commenting.
One good thing had come from their honest discussions. She had been allowed to attend strategy meetings and had been awed by the number of issues they tackled in each meeting. She had a hard time keeping up, but Aegon helped her afterwards, answering her questions out of earshot of the others, slowly providing her the background for several decisions that during the meeting had seemed illogical to her. He told her not to worry. That the only reason it was this difficult for her now was because she had missed years of scheming. Nobody could really grasp what exactly happened in a story if one only heard the last part.
She often had to refrain herself from just falling into his arms and thanking him by kissing him senseless. Sometimes she could discern that he was touched by something she did or said but most of the time he kept himself well in check. She admired his strength but at the same time she still hoped for a moment of weakness. He had granted her the perfect moment she had asked for but it had only made her realise exactly what she was missing out on now.
Why could they not be ordinary people, he a farmer she a farmer's wife? No politics, no throne and if there was a mystical enemy in the north, it would not be their responsibility. They would never know it was there at all. They would farm their land, pay their rent and make love every night.
After a hint from Aegon, she had started assisting Sam, who always seemed swamped with scrolls. She wrote the simpler messages and often volunteered to bring all the sealed scrolls that were ready to send out to Maester Pylos and keep watch until the ravens were well on their way. That way they made sure that Maester Pylos didn't read their content. Aegon was still not sure of his allegiance. As long as the situation in the north was a priority and he could be called away to the Wall any moment, it was imperative that nobody got wind of House Targaryen ruling Dragonstone again. He wanted to be sure that his entourage remained safe on Dragonstone when he and his dragons were in the far North and could not defend his loyal followers on the island.
Every morning she watched his training sessions from a strategically placed window. Even though she knew nothing of the intricacies of swordplay or the normal levels of intensity such trainings demanded, she could still grasp that what she saw was out of the ordinary. She admired his elegance, his speed as she witnessed him fight off two skilled Kingsguards simultaneously. She might not know much about technique but she knew full well the reputations of the two knights he was fighting. Even after he had lifted heavy stones and had performed countless sprints, he still had enough energy left to hold his own against Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold who – as far as she could tell – didn't hold back with their dulled training swords.
She had panicked the first time she had seen them swing at each other with metal swords using their full strength until Aegon had explained to her that the swords they used were dulled and he wore protective armour. The worst he suffered were a few bruises, and those, he had boasted, only happened the one or two times his opponents got past his defences. Ever since, she never tired of seeing him train and spent her mornings in that small room pretending to read a book near the window to make the most of the daylight.
During meetings, Aegon was a force to be reckoned with. He always had an endless list of topics to discuss. He patiently listened to all his advisors had to say but most of the time he provided a logical solution himself. His friend Sam was the only one able to keep up with him when he started to reason his way out of a problem out loud.
One time she had witnessed both of them throwing ideas at each other at such a speed. Each statement one of them uttered, building on a part of the idea the other had proposed, putting together a solution step by step to eventually and ending up with a complicated airtight answer to a difficult question. She had not been the only one who had watched on with growing amazement.
The three Kingsguards had shaken their heads and let the two young men do their 'brainstorming'. At least that was the word Ser Oswell had whispered in her ear when she had asked him quietly what they were doing. He had told her 'brainstorming' was a new term Sam had invented to describe their strange method of working out problems.
One of the topics Aegon had been relentless about was the fate of the families whose members had been contained when Ser Gerold had first landed on Dragonstone. That momentous day, when Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell backed by the well-trained crewmembers of ten of Aegon'sships had landed on Dragonstone, they had not encountered any resistance at first.
While climbing the winding path that led to the castle they had been attacked by a small force of approximately twenty men that had desperately tried to fight off the superior numbers that sought entrance to the castle. Ser Gerold had been surprised at first. Crouched behind the low wall where the path made a high turn, the small Baratheon force had kept itself well-hidden. Two of Aegon's men had been injured during the short clash that followed.
They had apprehended the attackers and locked them up in dark cells beneath the fortress. Upon receiving a raven from their Prince though, they had transferred the prisoners to modest quarters containing windows letting in sunlight and fresh air. These were some of the rooms usually reserved for servants. At this time the Baratheon supporters were still locked in there. Aegon had not allowed for their prisoners to be mistreated. He had also forbidden his forces and the loyal smallfolk in the settlements to harass their families that lived on the island.
He had argued to all that protested that these men were honourable men that had arrived with the Baratheon retinue but had stayed on the island because they had married into families already living here. He intended to speak to them and offer them a choice. Either they swore allegiance to him and became his loyal subjects or they returned to the Stormlands after things had settled and Aegonhad won his throne.
For now he visited them once in a while to check if they were treated all right. Several claimed they had already made up their minds and preferred to swear allegiance to the Prince so they could rejoin their family members on Dragonstone as soon as they were allowed.
During the last meeting Daenerys attended, a case was brought forward of a farmer of Valyrian origin who had laid a hand on a woman and had threatened her two daughters, the women being defenceless because their husband and father was one of the men who had helped attack the Targaryen forces. Luckily the woman had only suffered some nasty bruises.
Aegon had let his guards arrest the culprit and to set an example he had imprisoned him for two moons in a similar room as the others. The man's sons were ordered to help farm the victim's family's small patch of land for that same amount of time. He made sure regular patrols would keep an eye on the situation.
With the authority of the Prince of Dragonstone, Aegon personally spoke to all parties concerned and no similar incidents occurred. The man he had imprisoned temporarily almost prostrated himself before his Prince promising him he would be his most loyal subject from now on and would never go against his Prince's edicts again even if he didn't understand them. Aegon had responded that he could prove this by making himself useful during his forced stay in the fortress and help the servants care for the other prisoners.
Daenerys had never met anyone like Aegon before. Seeing him constantly these two sennights, finding new things to admire in him and not try to get him to lose his self-control, was hard. Still, she kept her promise. At first she had not understood why he wouldn't take advantage of this precious respite here on Dragonstone. Why they could not cherish each other's love before he had to fly off and face unimaginable dangers. Seeing him at work though, she started to understand what he had been trying to tell her.
His quest for the Iron Throne was not just an act of revenge or a blind ambition of his. It was important for the realm. More than a million people's lives would miss a chance at a better life if he failed. She had witnessed firsthand how quick his mind could work when he focussed it entirely on something.
She began to realise that the solutions he brought to the table were not always instant ideas but things he had worked on hard alone or with Sam before presenting them to his small council. These meetings also showed her how complicated and dangerous things could potentially get, how many angles they needed to consider.
Slowly she came to terms with the fact that she should not complicate his life further right now nor take away his concentration by moping or looking unhappy in his presence. The realm needed him. She could imagine no man more suited to rule the Seven Kingdoms than Aegon. He would work hard to create a better world for each of his subjects, no matter how lowly born. She once more made the resolution to help him and to do whatever he asked.
One morning Daenerys had been confronted with an empty training yard only to hear afterwards that Aegon had left to visit the Driftmark and his foster-grandmother without breathing a word of it to her. She would have liked to meet Lady Celtigar, formerly of House Velaryon. Aegon could have easily taken her with him on Rhaegal. She was the only one he could have taken but he hadn't asked. He had preferred to go alone. As she had done the previous days, she looked for things to keep her busy and prevent her from dwelling on everything she wanted but could not have … for now.
As soon as the opportunity presented itself she had looked for Sam and had asked him to tell her how his friendship with Aegon had come about. She also enquired after Sam's background. Sam was friendly but kept to innocent subjects, not wanting to betray the confidence of his friend.
Somehow she couldn't fault the young man. Aegon inspired that kind of loyalty in almost everyone. No complaint however small had reached her ears. If anything she had overheard the servants talking of how polite the Prince was towards them. How he thanked them for the smallest service and often fended for himself. How he greeted everyone he passed in a hallway and if he didn't remember their names or hadn't met them yet he would enquire after them when the occasion allowed for it.
She stopped her daydreaming about her nephew and focussed on Sam. She had offered to help him study High Valyrian. It was easier to learn a language if you could speak it with someone instead of just getting your knowledge exclusively from books.
Even if she didn't live her dream life with Aegon, her life had changed so much for the better already. She helped run part of the household, organised menus dealt with small incidents between the staff and handled other small matters that were best dealt with by a female hand. Managing all that and assisting and tutoring Sam hardly left her enough time for her earlier hobbies as reading and embroidering. Sometimes Aegon even gave her small research assignments. The days flew by and she was almost content. She felt useful and knew if she needed to write a letter to him this time, she would have lots of things to put in it.
Perhaps she would ask for Aegon's permission to visit with his foster grandmother after he had left to deal with the situation at the Wall.
***
Jon's last few days on Dragonstone had been busier than ever. He had spent his late afternoons, after meetings and before supper scouting the island with his dragons looking for the ingredients he needed for the potion Maester Aemon had taught him to make.
At first, he had sent his dragons on their own with the assignment but it had not been easy for them to spot the tiny difference between the leaves of plants or the tiny brown mushrooms from up high. After visiting several secluded spots on the island, he had gathered enough of the green plant for one session. His dragons had flown him to a few places near a waterfall or creek where all kinds of mushrooms grew closely together. Unfortunately none of these fitted the detailed description of his great-great-uncle.
His dreams however kept getting weirder even without the substance. Often small children featured prominently in his dreams. He couldn't explain how or why but he was sure now that he was not their father, possibly their grandfather or great-grandfather?
Their adorable faces were a mixture of Valyrian and Northern features which made him apprehensive. The image of Dany possibly marrying another dark haired Northerner tortured him. He was glad Robb had red hair for that was a possibility he was sure he wouldn't be able to live with. These annoyingly vague dreams only made him more desperate to find the elusive mushrooms and mix the potion.
Another recurring dream that plagued him was Azor Ahai wielding his flaming sword that dripped with blood. He hoped this was no vision but only a way of his subconscious to release the fears that he supressed during the day. These dreams had reminded him that there was one more reason why it was dangerous for him to act on his love for Daenerys. If there was a chance that he really was this re-born version of Azor Ahai, he couldn't take a wife yet. Certainly not one he loved with every fibre of his being and would have to put to the sword. He would not endanger her.
He realised his time here was running out. One of these days the raven would come that summoned him back to the Wall and he would have to play his part, prophesy or not. Well perhaps his upcoming short trip to the Driftmark could bring a bit of solace. His dragons would visit the caves they grew up in and search that environment for the clusters of mushrooms he remembered vaguely from his youth. They would have plenty of time while he made his scheduled visits on the island.
When he returned to the castle from yet another fruitless search for the apparently rare mushroom, Ser Barristan greeted him at the gate and walked beside him to his room. Jon hated the fact that the loyal man could hardly look him in the eye. When he entered his quarters he turned toward the knight.
"Ser Barristan, do you have a moment for me?" He saw the man hesitate.
"Of course, my Prince." Ser Barristan answered eventually and entered the room. "Is something the matter?"
"Not really. I just thought that it would help if we said a few words and put the awkwardness behind us."
Ser Barristan stiffened. "I did not intend to offend you, my Prince."
"You didn't. I just wanted to reassure you that Daenerys and I are making the best of a difficult situation. We uh reached an understanding and support each other. There is no need for you to take her side. Her side is also my side." Jon stopped talking, not sure what more he could say without embarrassing himself some more."
"I did not, I was not, I mean, I feel for both of you, my Prince. I pray to the Gods each night that everything will work out for you and the Princess." Ser Barristan looked straight at his Prince's eye for more than a fleeting second for the first time in days.
"I thank you, Ser Barristan. So we're good?" Jon looked relieved no further explanations were required.
"It is an honour to serve you, my Prince." Ser Barristan bowed and left the room feeling a lot better.
Interlude 22: Of possible betrothals and headaches
"My Lord Hand," Lady Olenna greeted Lord Stark crisply when she entered the room where the Hand of the King usually held meetings and prepared his scrolls. "You made me climb a lot of stairs. I hope you have ample refreshments in this old fashioned tower of yours. I still do not see why you could not do me the courtesy of accepting my invitation for tea. The weather is lovely outside."
Lord Stark got up from the chair behind his ostentatious desk to greet her. "And many birds sing in the garden. I am sorry, Lady Tyrell. It couldn't be helped. I decided privacy was more important than fresh air. Let me welcome you to the Tower of the Hand. Please do be seated. Of course I have seen to it that there is fresh lemon water and Arbor Gold at our disposal. Just let me know which you prefer."
He circled his desk and eyed the tough shrew Varys had told him Lady Olenna was.
"Do not let yourself be fooled by her frail behaviour, her white hair and her gaunt thin hands, my Lord Hand," Varys had warned him. "She is not called the 'Queen of Thorns' for nothing. She has been masterminding political intrigues even before you were a child being weaned at your mother's breasts."
"I know of her reputation, Lord Varys." Ned had replied with exasperation. "I am not totally ignorant."
"No one says you are." Lord Varys had tried to placate him. "Please keep in mind that knowing it and experiencing it are two entirely different things. Be on your guard, my Lord or she will get you riled up in not time. And for the Gods' sake, do not let her see your frustration or get on the defensive immediately as you did with me just now. I would not bode well for the rest of your dealings with her."
Ned schooled his face to hide his thoughts while he helped Lady Olenna arrange her chair and provided her with a cup still waiting for her to voice her drink of choice.
"I'll start with a cup of lemon water to clench my thirst. But I'd like a cup of Arbor Gold right next to it. I'll sip that for the splendid taste. In all the years I have lived, I have yet to find a region that produces sweeter wine than the Reach." Her tone of voice made it clear she expected no comment to her statement.
Ned saw her observing his hands that presented her a second cup and poured the liquids. He had seen to it that there were no servants nearby. The closest living being was a Stark guard stationed in the hallway, one that he could trust implicitly. The others were stationed at the far end near the stairs. He kept his hands steady, keeping Lord Varys' advice in mind.
"Whatever you do, do not show any weakness. Do not fidget, try not to sweat. Best dress lighter than usual. She will not respect you if she perceives you fear her."
"A slice of cake, my Lady?" He offered her a plate with several delicious looking pastries on it.
"Just put it down there and let us start this long overdue conversation, my Lord Hand. And do not insult me by stating that that could not be helped either." She retorted rather impolitely and didn't hide her impatience as she waved the plate away.
"Then I shall oblige you and will not bore you with the enumeration of all the matters of state that kept me rather busy, my Lady." Ned took a seat at the small table facing her and made a show of giving her his full attention.
"Don't patronize me." She warned him and pursed her lips.
Ned considered it a little victory that she was the first one to lose some of her composure.
"And here I thought the honourable Ned Stark wouldn't play games and would be a straightforward partner to discuss the Reach's interests with. Have these few sennights in the capital already corrupted you, My Lord Hand? Are you afraid of saying to my face that you have been avoiding me?" She raised her shoulders as if to steel herself for his reaction.
"My Lady, is it really in your best interest to start this negotiation in such a controversial fashion. I had heard tell you are as pragmatic as you are intelligent. It is not a wise move to antagonise the Hand of the King now that he grants you his full attention. Perhaps you would like to tell me what it is that you have come here to discuss."
Varys had told him she would not shy away from bluntly stating her opinion if it was in her own interest but he couldn't help but think she was not going about this as astute as her reputation had made him fear she would.
"How long will you keep my sons in that dreary North of yours? The heir belongs in Highgarden and Loras is not used to the cold. Descriptions of stuffed noses, watery eyes and ill-suited clothing make up for more than half of the content of his sparse messages." She didn't temper her plain-spoken behaviour even the slightest bit despite his warning.
"I am not holding your sons prisoner, Lady Tyrell. Willas Tyrell is a welcome visitor despite the fact that he showed up unannounced and without invitation. Of course he is free to leave anytime he chooses. Your other son, Loras will need permission of the King to return home. I am sure that I can use my influence with King Robert to grant him clemency in the near future. I just warn you not to rush his Grace or address your King personally. He is not happy with this sad business. Just as you have known the nature of your grandson, the King has always tolerated the preferences of his youngest brother as long as he was discreet. Somehow his Grace blames your grandson for making Prince Renly lose his sense of propriety."
When Lady Olenna snorted with disbelief and looked unimpressed, Ned repressed the slight feeling of guilt for manipulating the truth and continued to intimidate her.
"Before the incident, his youngest brother had always been extremely guarded and circumspect when pursuing his 'desires', shall we say. Be glad your grandson is not rotting away in the black cells, which most likely is where he would have been still if not for my plea for leniency. You can't convince me that you are not relieved that your proud name has not been the object of ridicule and derision these last few moons any more than it was."
Lady Olenna huffed and studied him with narrowed eyes. "So I am not to approach the King personally? Are you sure you are not taking advantage of this situation to prevent me from advocating the case of my granddaughter? His Grace is in search of a young and fertile wife, is he not? My Margaery is just what he needs. She is young, beautiful and the granddaughter of a lord Paramount. We can also provide the Crown with a substantial dowry."
"I will not be the first to warn you that it is in bad taste to present the King with an official betrothal proposal when his marriage has not been formally annulled yet." Lord Stark spoke with confidence.
She cocked her head and kept staring at him with her beady eyes. "Speaking of the annulment, why exactly has it not been granted yet? What is causing the delay? More political games, my Lord Hand?"
"These are private matters between the King and the Queen. I am afraid I cannot go into detail. Just know that the High Septon is consulting the Archmaesters at the Citadel. We will know more soon."
She leaned forward so he could not avoid looking straight at her without being disrespectful. "Just tell me this, my Lord Hand. Is my granddaughter, lady Margaery on the shortlist of candidates to become his new Queen?"
"There is no shortlist yet. Of course she will be considered if that is really your wish. I had not planned to put her on it though. I want better for your granddaughter." He was proud he hadn't blinked once when he formulated his answer.
"Your son, I presume? Ha, you are not a good Hand at all. The honourable Ned Stark is pursuing his own agenda. Need I remind you that you are first and foremost Hand of the King and only second, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell? You are showing your hand, Lord Stark. You haven't learned how to become a political strategist yet, have you? Varys warned me I should not talk to you but let him present my interests to the King instead." She looked at him with disdain now.
"I won't keep you from doing that. Just as I will vow to put Lady Margaery on the shortlist if that is your wish, Lady Tyrell. But just think about the consequences."
He hid his glee at how she squirmed ever so slightly in her chair. Her defiant behaviour had lost some of its momentum. Time to bring out his most compelling argument Jon had asked him to use and Lord Varys' well-placed rumours had laid the groundwork for.
"Are you willing to squander her youth and condemn her to a life without children? Will you risk shortening her life considerably by possibly exposing her to a nasty disease? Just say the word and I'll put her at the top of the list. But perhaps you should be kind and tell your grandchild what she can expect when she obeys and follows your blind ambitions. She will be the one who will spend her life with an infertile husband who drinks and whores. She will be the one whose life will be at risk if they are intimate."
Ned was sure the strategically placed rumours of the King's infertility due to a hunting accident or the version of the whore's disease he supposedly suffered from had reached her ears already and that these would make her uncertain.
"You are reaching, Lord Hand. If that is the case, the next heir to the throne would be Stannis Baratheon. That man won't want you for his Hand no matter how much you might think otherwise." Her mouth was pressed in a thin line when she awaited his reaction.
"King Robert may yet reign until I am grey and old, my Lady. Have you considered Lord Stannis Baratheon's wife is rather ill? Perhaps now house Tyrell will consider sour Lord Stannis a better husband for your granddaughter. Maybe you should consider marrying him yourself? I am not good at guessing a lady's number of celebrated namedays. Is it possible the age difference between you and him is smaller than between the King and your granddaughter?" Ned couldn't prevent venting a bit of his frustration with her stubborn ambitions.
"Come now, Lord Stark, no need to insult an old lady. I want what is best for my granddaughter. She was born to be queen. She is smart, beautiful and more capable than many a noble male. She just needs a bit more maturity and she could rule the Seven Kingdoms singlehandedly. I taught her you see?" Her voice had taken on a more persuasive tone.
"Then think long and hard about what is the best for that precious gem your granddaughter apparently is, Lady Tyrell. And do not forget who your enemies are and who aren't. House Stark has had the best interest of the Reach in mind for many years now. I am sure you have been kept informed of all of the past dealings between our Kingdoms and know very well what I am referring to."
"Now you sound a lot like your son, my Lord Hand. I suppose it was upon your behest that he is manipulating my heir to declare House Stark a firm ally and propose marriage to your daughter Sansa?" She retorted sharply.
"We are not your enemy, Lady Olenna. You better not make the mistake to think House Stark keeps to the North and does not know what is going on in the Realm. I am aware of your endeavour to forge an alliance with the Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen in Pentos. I also know you are disappointed not to have received a reply yet. Perhaps it is for the best. She is not the owner of the rumoured dragon flying over the Narrow Sea." Ned made an effort to keep his voice even.
"Sometimes it is in one's interest to work with one's enemies rather than constantly competing against them." She paused as if trying to decide her next move. She cocked her head slightly when she tried to coax a reaction out of him. "So you admit to the rumours that the North knows to whom this dragon belongs? I could have sworn I heard somewhere that there were two full grown dragons not one and that there was a dragonrider with mixed blood and with a possible kinship to House Stark."
"None of these rumours have been confirmed, Lady Tyrell. I am sure you have been briefed word for word about what transpired at Littlefinger's trial." He stayed calm. Now was not the time to disappoint Jon by revealing too much. He kept his voice neutral when he added "And calling a seventeen year old girl with a sheltered upbringing an enemy would imply you fear her."
"So you deny it?" She asked him point blank.
"What if I told you that King Robert's days of ruling are numbered, never mind the immediate cause?"
"Then yours would be too." She stated matter of fact but she remained very alert and kept track of his facial expression.
He steeled himself when he bluffed. "Are you certain of that, Lady Tyrell? You know of our efforts to befriend the Reach. It would not be too farfetched to believe we have been courting the goodwill of the other Lord Paramounts and Wardens as well and for as many years. The North has gained enormous influence and support the last decade or more. What if I told you that whatever happens, whichever King rules, I will always have his ear. And my House would only be second to the royal family."
He paused strategically to let his words sink in before continuing. "Be very sure of your decision, Lady Tyrell. House Stark has contingency plans for every eventuality. I receive new requests to betroth my children every day. You are aiming too high and soon there will be no good options left for your precious granddaughter. The Lord of the Vale is just a child. Dorne will never accept a Tyrell as a suitable bride for any of their kin, Stannis has no sons, Lord EdmureTully will not marry someone without my consent I must warn you, so that leaves the currently fallen from favour Lord Tyrion Lannister as her best option when I take Robb Stark off the marriage market."
"Whatever King rules? Even if he has dragons?" Her voice stayed firm but she had paled visibly.
"I do not speak lightly, my Lady, nor will I repeat myself." Ned hoped she would not hear the fast beating of his heart and tried not to blink and return her stare with as much confidence as he could muster.
"No wonder you were not willing to hold this conversation in the gardens over tea! You are just another conniver, another traitor posing as the slightly naïve but oh so honourable Lord Eddard Stark. You are playing a dangerous game." She accused him.
"The political games I have witnessed in the capital have taught me one important thing already, Lady Tyrell. If you play, you play to win. House Stark will prevail whatever happens in the Seven Kingdoms. In case you haven't noticed, the North has become a very powerful Kingdom in its own right. It would be in your best interest to stay on friendly terms with us."
He took a deep breath and gave his ultimatum. "You have one last sennight to consider the betrothal proposal between our houses before I withdraw it completely. Oh and please remember it is still contingent upon me meeting your granddaughter and judging her a suitable match for my most excellent son and heir to the North. Perhaps you could invite me to a garden tea party after all?" He kept his expression neutral even though it had not been easy.
When she didn't respond immediately, he played his last trump card. "Even though lady Margaery might not carry the title of Queen, perhaps she can be a mother to one? That is, if her children are my grandchildren as well." He had emphasised the right words and had spoken with a lot of conviction to imply that he already had some sort of future agreement in place."
"I would only have your word for that since chances are that I won't be around long enough to see that generation grow into adulthood." She paused but her tone had lost some of its fighting spirit.
It gave Ned hope she was really contemplating Robb for her granddaughter. Her next words however were once again meant to antagonise him.
"I wonder why you are not considering the Princess Daenerys if you are so close to one of her blood?"
Even though Ned was disappointed with her reaction, he saw right through her irrelevant question. Princess Daenerys of her own accord was no asset to the North. She was probably just trying to get him to reveal what he happened to know about this rumoured dragonrider. Most likely she was also just stalling for time or trying to rattle him.
She might even be getting desperate by now because she had been unable to come up with a strategy to undermine his strong negotiating position. She wasn't aware that he had been coached by the best. He had sat through several sessions before Lord Varys had judged him capable of taking on the Queen of Thornes. He had to prevent a smile from appearing on his face when he thought of the mock discussions they had held where Varys had played the formidable part of Lady Olenna. He evaded her question as he had been coached.
"That is beside the point. I thought we were discussing the future marriage of your granddaughter. If you forego my heir, perhaps your oldest grandson and heir to Highgarden might consider my eldest daughter?" he tried once more to get the conversation back on track.
"Rumours are she is promised to Domeric Bolton." Lady Olenna was quick to retort.
"As you said, my Lady, rumours, mere rumours. My Sansa is not betrothed yet. No agreement exists between House Bolton and House Stark."
"Not even between House Stark and House Dayne? My sons do write me sometimes, you know?" She still wouldn't give an inch although her shoulders had dropped a bit.
"None of my children are betrothed yet." Ned's tone left no room for doubt.
"And neither is the King." She bit back.
Lord Stark didn't move a muscle but in his imagination he grunted and rolled his eyes. "The King has not given the matter any thought yet. He will only entertain offers once his annulment is ratified by the High Septon. Not before."
"Mmmh, offers you say? So he WILL yield to the highest bidder. I heard Lord Frey offers the weight of his daughter of granddaughter of choice in gold if the King chooses a Frey bride." Her gaze that had lost some intensity over the course of the conversation was attentive once more.
"I can't help but notice we are talking in circles here, Lady Tyrell. I can only repeat to you once more that if you are seriously offering up your lovely granddaughter to Robert Baratheon, I will put her at the very top of the list. Just state what you offer the King as inducement." He couldn't help feeling a bit discouraged.
"I will discuss it with my son first. What about the dragons?" She tried once more to get him to betray something.
"What about them, my Lady?" He tried to stay polite taking heart in the fact that the conversation was winding down. This duel was almost over and he was still standing.
They do say the dragonrider has the face of a Stark." There was a curious gleam in her eyes now.
"Unconfirmed rumours. It is also rumoured that the dragonrider is a sellsword in the employ of the Golden Company. Many northerners live in exile in Essos. There is even an entire contingent of Northmen that left Westeros when King Torrhen decided to kneel to Aegon the Conqueror. Not all men with grey eyes and dark hair in the realm can claim that they are a distant kin of House Stark, my Lady. You will need to make your mind up without dragons in the equation. You have a sennight. Perhaps it is time to end this conversation."
"Do not presume to tell me what I need to do, Lord Hand. But I will retire now. If you would be so kind as to call my houseguards to escort me down those treacherous steps?"
She rose out of her chair with difficulty, her expression of dismay showing clearly that she was not satisfied with the outcome of their discussions.
Ned had not given an inch. He was sure she would not approach the King and would consider a betrothal between their houses very carefully before dismissing it offhand. He had successfully reached both goals of this meeting.
Lady Olenna was de facto the head of House Tyrell and by extension of the Reach. She was not going to discuss anything with her son. That was just her way of stalling for time. She would make up her own mind and just tell poor Lord Mace Tyrell what she had decided. Varys had been right. She was an outspoken woman with high ambitions He wondered how long it would take her to make up her mind.
"What are their names? I'll ask the guards outside to call for them." He wondered at the reason for the blush that appeared on her wrinkled cheeks. Little did he know that she didn't trouble herself to remember the names of her twin guards and just called them 'Left' and 'Right'.
"Never mind. Your noble Stark guards I am sure will be most willing to help an old lady descend the stairs. I will manage." She swept out of the room as fast as she could, momentarily forgetting to uphold her mummery of being old and frail.
"As you wish, my Lady." Ned bowed politely and watched her leave the room. When the Stark guard closed the door to his quarters he sat back down with a relieved sigh. He prayed he had struck the right tone and had somehow gotten through to her. Only time would tell.
He went back to his desk and eyed the scrolls that were ordered by importance. There was the missive from Jon with nothing but good news from Dragonstone. The only thing worrying him was the delay caused by the retreat of the White Walkers to the far North.
The missive from Robb was also reassuring. Apparently his younger brother was helping him deal with the more difficult issues. Robb was learning the hard way, but he would be a competent Lord of Winterfell all the sooner by it. His son implored him to write his impression of Lady Margaery Tyrell and perhaps even send him a little drawing of her if possible.
He sighed when he saw the neat scroll so painstakingly written by Lord Edric of House Dayne. Sansa, his precious daughter fancied herself in love. How had he not noticed that she was a woman grown, possibly even flowered already. He had to ask Catelyn about that. His wife's last letter had hinted at an infatuation between the two young people but she had assured him that she had handled it and had successfully warned both of them away from each other. She had even described how they had obviously quarreled and were avoiding each other.
Well, apparently the heir to Starfall had not been deterred for long. He looked at the carefully crafted sentences where the young suitor praised Starfall as a thriving stronghold and House Dayne as a renowned noble House. He hinted at a possible future title as Sword of the Morning and last but not least at his friendship with a powerful ally, Jon Celtigar.
By the way Jon's last name was written in a crooked fashion, the young man made it clear that he knew this was his greatest trump card. Ned sighed. He would at least have to inform Jon about this request before formulating his negative response to the young man.
He felt a head ache coming on. Probably caused by the strain of his conversation with lady Olenna but Edric Dayne's request didn't help matters. He had this standard reply he sent out to everyone who petitioned for a betrothal with Sansa but he knew better than to just send that to the young Lord. He only wondered if Jon would let him decide the outcome of this delicate matter for himself. He would have a problem with it if his nephew didn't.
Finally his eye fell on the list he was trying to put together for King Robert. Varys had done a great job stalling the annulment but that didn't deter the King from enquiring about the number of viable candidates every time they saw each other. Ned grabbed the scrolls containing the newly arrived offers and added the names of maidens and promised dowries to the large scroll one by one before putting the original petitions into the top drawer of his imposing desk.