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The Lost Prince
The magisters daughter is a merchant ship that frequently travels from Pentos to White Harbour, it's black and blue sails were adorned with the picture of a young maiden smiling. The captain was a short Braavosi and was one of the few members of the crew who spoke the common tongue. Due to his frequent time on the sea travelling to white Harbour, he had become good friends with Lord Manderly and he was more than willingly to let Jon and Wendel travel on his ship. Jon's cabin was small, a little smaller than his room in Winterfell but it didn't bother him since it was only temporary.
Wendel Manderly was a large man, and an anointed knight. He spoke in a low booming voice and he drank more than Jon thought was physically possible. During their voyage he made it his mission to test Jon's combat skills. Every morning they sparred on the deck and despite his size, he moved with an almost impossible speed. Jon thought himself to be a good swordsman, he had spent years training with Robb and Theon under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrick the master at arms but Wendel did not fight like a Westerosi. He used the weapons and techniques found in Essos which threw Jon off guard. Dothraki Arakhs, shortswords and spears, all were new weapons that Jon had to learn how to fight against.
After the first week on the ship, Jon could hold his own against him with a sword and by the end of the second he had managed to go an entire session without being knocked to the floor. He learned and adapted quickly and realised that this would be good practice for his future. When he wasn't practicing, he spent most of his time wandering the deck or in his room, lost in his thoughts.
He tried to remember all the stories of his mother but he could hardly remember hearing any. His father, no Lord Stark had scarcely mentioned his sister. Any time someone mentioned him, his eyes would close, and the topic was quickly changed. At the thought of Lord Stark Jon started to feel some of his anger returning, for seventeen years he kept this secret from him. He let his wife hate him because he couldn't trust her with the truth. It wasn't fair
His anger then turned to Rhaegar, he couldn't even picture his face. With his mother he had a stone statue, with his father he had nothing. His mind tried to come up with an image of the mysterious silver prince but all he could see was a blur. Rhaegar's actions had started a rebellion, thousands of people had died because of them. His uncle, his grandfather all died because of Rhaegar. He abandoned his wife and children, he was the crown prince, he should have known better.
Then he thought of his siblings, no cousins. Robb and Arya would treat him the same, they had always accepted him. Sansa had never liked him, she took after Lady Catelyn in that aspect. If he saw them again what would he tell them? Would he tell them? Will I ever see them again? He hadn't thought that far ahead truthfully. Maybe if he works hard and saved his coin he could make a trip back, at least once. He regretted leaving the way he did, they deserved better from him.
Jon was disturbed from his thoughts by a knock on his door. He sat up to see that Wendel had entered.
"The captain tells me we should dock in Pentos tomorrow," Wendel said as entered Jon's room.
"Good," Jon replied. At first, Jon had disliked his time on the ship, he struggled to understand how people could spend most of their lives sailing, but after a while he began to appreciate it. The rocking of the sea was calming and helped him sleep at night.
"Fancy another spar today?" Wendel asked with a sly grin. Jon groaned in frustration
"Aye don't worry Jon, you're better than you think. You're a fast learner and perhaps one day, you'll actually be able to knock me to the floor,"
Jon smiled at the jest, "Perhaps today is that day,"
"Well we're never going to find out if you sit in your room sulking all day like a love-struck maid,"
"I'll come up in a few minutes Wendel," Jon said as Wendel left the room. Jon reached under his bed and pulled out the parcel. It was still unopened. Jon had debated whether he should open it many times over the past few days.
His fingers toyed with the edges of the parcel when he heard another knock on his door, it was Wendel again
"Hurry up Jon," he said. Jon quickly put the package away and left his cabin. The package would have to wait for another day.
The Merchant Man
The day was shaping up to be another hot one. Donequor Naerys looked out into the harbour as he watched the ships come into port. From the balcony he could see workers unloading their ships. The port of Pentos was always busy, everything from silks to spices could be found in the port. He watched as merchants found their ships and collected their goods. Crates were moved onto carts and attached to horses and the red priests had started to sing on their way to the temple. He drank a cup of lemon tea as he waited
"Morning," he heard a happy voice, it was Caspiro casually sauntering into the room with his hands in his pockets and his black hair slicked back. Caspiro was a small, stocky man who was his partner. They had met in the alleyways of Volantis, both searching for the same hidden treasures. At first, they had been opponents, but gradually as time passed they realised that they worked better together. Caspiro would steal the valuables and then Donequor would return them for a fee, as their reputation grew and grew and they decided to branch out into other enterprises. Preferring to spend all their time going after high value items, it's how they ended up in the manse of Magister Nevio, waiting to complete their deal.
"You're late," he replied, unhappy.
"I would have thought you would have slept longer, we have been travelling for two weeks," Caspiro objected, "What's your hurry? Eager to see your precious little princess?"
He turned and stared at him and Caspiro raised his hand in apology. Truthfully, he had been eager to return to the princess, he hated leaving her alone when he had to go away.
"Enough talk, I see you have the chest, let's take it to the magister and get paid. I'm sure you'd rather spend your time with someone other than me for a change,"
Caspiro nodded and together they walked through the manse. They entered a beautiful garden with a fountain in the middle where they found the magister breaking his fast.
"Hello my friends!" he spoke loudly, his voice carrying across the garden. "I hope my servants made sure everything was to your comfort?", the evil glint in the magisters eye disgusted Naerys.
"Everything was fine," he replied, his voice even. "We have brought what you asked," and he motioned to the chest.
"Very well," he nodded and Caspiro opened the chest. Inside, was a collection of gemstones and a beautiful chestplate. The metal shimmered in the light and the Magister was pleased. He wiped the grease off his chubby fingers and picked up the items to inspect them, checking for any defects.
"Very good, my friends in Westeros will pay a lot of coin for armour as good as this. The armourer's in Qohor are well renown," he said impressed. "How did you persuade them to part with this fine work?"
"We traded for it," Caspiro gave a tight smile
"No matter, it will be on a ship to Westeros soon enough," the magister motioned to one of his servants and they brought him a smaller box. He reached inside and brought out 5 medium sized pouches, filled with gold.
"Once again, it was a pleasure doing business with you Naerys, feel free to spend some more time around the manse,"
He offered his hand, "I look forward to working with you again in the future, Magister Nevio"
They shook hands and Naerys grimaced slightly. His body had still not recovered from that chest injury years ago.
Once they had left the garden, he handed over two bags of coin to Caspiro. "Make sure the men are paid equally. Don't spend it all at once this time"
Caspiro smirked "So what do you plan to do with your coin this time?"
Buy more sellswords and sellsails of course.
"Maybe, I'll work towards finding that wife you so frequently ask me about,"
"A wife? You'll have to smile more if you hope of finding yourself a wife," he replied with a laugh. "Until next time my friend,"
"Until next time," Naerys left the manse and started the walk towards the harbour. He hoped to find some information from the sailors or deckhands. Information of Westeros, or which sellsword companies were available. It had been weeks since he had an update from Westeros, the King was still fat and the realm was at peace, soon that will change. The red priests have told me that my time will soon come
He walked aimlessly through the harbour with no route in mind. It was midday and the Pentoshi heat was starting to become unbearable. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and stopped at a stall to buy himself a drink. He leaned against a wall in the shade of an archway and he watched the people carry out their business. A flash of white flew across his vision. It was a white dog, a beautiful animal in truth. The dog seemed to notice him staring and then stopped in front of him. As he got a closer look at the dog he realised he was mistaken at first, this animal was much bigger than a dog, and the eyes.
No dog had bright red eyes.
Naerys stared into those red eyes transfixed. Suddenly the animal sprinted away, he followed it and he saw the animals master. The sight of the boy made his heart stop. It was impossible. He must have been mistaken. The animal, the boy, it made sense, but it was impossible. They shouldn't be here
He put his drink down and made to follow. He had to find out who this boy was.
The Lost Prince
Pentos was hot and Jon wasn't used to it.
"Wendel, where are we going?" Jon asked for the millionth time as they walked seemingly aimlessly around the harbour
"Oh, I know a few places where we can stay. Father sends me here often enough," Wendel didn't seem bothered by Jon's discomfort, or in any particular hurry to reach their destination.
"Any chance we can go somewhere cooler?"
"You could wear less layers, we aren't in the north anymore," Wendell replied with a wry smile. "We're in Pentos Jon, you've never been here before, relax and look at the sights. If we're lucky we can even see a mummer's trope perform, it's usually somewhere around these parts,"
He continued walking happily and started to whistle a tune
"If you don't want to see any mummers, that lady over there seems to be eyeing you keenly, perhaps she can help you relax," Wendel said with a grin. Jon blushed heavily and avoided the seductive looks of the woman with shoulder length silver hair.
Wendel laughed loudly at his embarrassment
"What's the matter boy? You'll be here for a while, I'm sure you'll bed your share of women. Why not get an early start? She looks like she's from Lys, you should consider yourself especially lucky,"
Realising that he didn't want to indulge in this conversation, Jon started to observe the people around him, it was something he would have to get used to. On the ship, Wendel had given him a brief overview of the type of people to expect in the free cities. He spotted Tyroshi's with their colourful hair, of Lyseni with their silver hair and their lilac eyes and Norvoshi with their spectacular tapestries. He also noticed the abundance of slaves in the city.
"Wendel, I thought slavery was banned in Pentos?" Jon asked, recalling his lessons with Maester Luwin.
"Yes, slavery is banned, and technically, no one here is a slave. The law says that they are freedmen. However, they are indebted to their masters, so they are not truly free to leave and live their own lives," Wendell replied grimly.
Jon shook his head in disgust, slavery was rightfully banned in Westeros and he could not believe people still practiced it here.
"Essos is not Westeros Jon this is something you'll have to get used to," he sighed, "Here we are, I know this man," Jon walked a few paces behind him as Wendel walked up to the man from Volantis. As they spoke, Jon again started to observe his surroundings. If he was to work as a household guard, he would have to get used to this.
"Jon, call your wolf, best to keep him by your side where you can see him," Wendel told him as he tossed over an apple.
Jon bit into the apple and the juices flooded into his mouth. He listened into the conversation that Wendel was having. Apparently the Dothraki were at war with each other. The company of the cat and the Bright Banners were engaged in a war outside of Braavos and the golden company had broken their contract with Myr, leaving the city exposed.
Jon briefly recalled the name of the Golden Company, they fought for the Blackfyres during their rebellions. Wendel looked shocked that they had broken contract, he would have to ask why later.
Jon felt that he was being watched. He noticed the man across the market square behind a stall. "Ghost to me," Jon commanded. The direwolf quickly came to his side. Jon ruffled his hand through his fur. When he looked up again, the man was gone.
"Stay close Ghost," Jon said. Wendell paid the merchant and they continued their travels.
"Ok, we'll head towards some of the richer merchants in town to see if they're looking for a guard. They'll want a demonstration so please remember everything you've learned, my reputation is at stake,"
"Wendel, I think we're being followed,"
"What makes you say that?" he asked cautiously.
"There was a man, I didn't get a good look at him, but he had purple eyes and dark hair,"
"Hmm, He was probably curious about your wolf. He's an unusual creature and bound to attract attention," Jon still looked uncertain, "but I'll keep an eye out,"
"Why is it such a surprise that the golden company broke their contract? They're sellswords, they have no loyalty,"
Wendel gave a snort of laughter. "It seems your castle lessons were incorrect. The Golden Company are one of the most prestigious sellsword companies in Essos. Their motto is 'Our word is as good as gold' and they haven't broken a contract to date,"
They turned another corner. This street seemed to contain taverns and inns.
"Why have they broken their contract now?"
"How should I know? Their commanders didn't exactly send me a raven,"
They walked on in silence. They had reached a quieter part of the city. There were less traders here and Jon was starting to feel uneasy. He turned his head to look behind him and he saw the man again. Jon slowed down slightly, and then tapped Wendell on the elbow, getting him to turn around.
"Wendel, can you help me tie my boot?" Jon asked slowly, his eyes focused onto Wendell, hoping he understood that there was more behind this strange request. Wendel nodded and slowly bent down, looking back in the direction they came. He jumped slightly, then slowly stood back up.
"I see him Jon, let's get out of here," Wendell moved quickly now. Jon had to jog to keep pace with his longer strides. He weaved his way through the streets and alleyways until he suddenly stopped. They had reached a dead end.
They turned around looking for another way, but the man stood there blocking their path.
"Look, I don't want any trouble," The man said as he held up his hands, "I just have a few questions,"
"Bugger your questions. I know your type, you're a thief," Wendel pushed in front of Jon, his hand reaching for the pommel of his sword. Jon slowly reached down for his. Ghost curiously, remained calm.
"I am no thief. I just want to talk. That's a peculiar animal isn't it?" he asked Jon. "At first, I thought it was a dog, but it's too big and no dog has eyes of that colour,"
"Oh, so you're a poacher as well? You're probably looking to kill us and sell his fur," Wendel continued to advance. The man had dropped his hands and he slowly moved towards his own weapon. The two men were almost within striking distance. Jon had drawn his sword as well. Ghost however was not interested in the confrontation that was taking place.
"Enough talk, either let us pass or I will force my way," Wendel was within striking range and Jon felt time slow down. He saw a flash of silver and then he saw Wendel collapse, clutching a knife that had been thrown into his stomach
Jon watched frozen as blood started to pour out of him. The man himself had not moved, and he quickly turned to face the entrance of the alley.
"Caspiro! What are you doing?" he yelled.
"Saving you," and he drew for his second knife
"No! Don't hurt him anymore. We can still save him,"
"Boy, grab that piece of wood behind him, we can use it as a stretcher, I have a friend who can help him,"
Jon stood still, his hand still on his sword
"Why?" He asked, "Why should I trust you, how do I know you and your friend won't kill me next?"
"I am trying to save your friend. You're not from here and you don't look like you would last long here without him. We will carry the stretcher and you still have your sword and your wolf, we couldn't hurt you,"
Jon didn't trust the men, but he knew they were right. Jon's chances of survival in Essos would decrease dramatically if Wendel died.
They hauled Wendel onto their makeshift stretcher and carried him back through the streets. Wendel was moaning and writhing in pain
"Boy, keep pressure on the wound to try and stop the bleeding," the man told him.
They travelled quickly through the streets until they reached a big beautiful mansion. The guards at the gates clearly recognised the man and let them inside.
"Illyrio! Fetch me Illyrio!" the man shouted as they reached the courtyard "Fetch me a damn healer aswell!"
Jon watched as the servants, no slaves, carried out the orders. A short while later, they took the stretcher and headed inside. Wendel had stopped moaning and Jon feared the worst. The man turned and angrily spoke to his companion, cursing him for his actions. Caspiro looked confused and left angrily.
Then they were alone in the courtyard, Jon and this mystery man. The man turned to face him, purple eyes locked onto grey. It was Jon who spoke first.
"Right, so who the hell are you?"
The Princess of Dragonstone
Daenerys was in the gardens of Illyrio's mansion. She sat on a bench eating some lemon cakes, in the distance she could faintly hear the red priests singing their songs. She hadn't seen Viserys in the days following her birthday, unfortunately, she guessed that this meant that he had been taking his anger out on the servants here. The thought made Daenerys sick to her stomach but there was nothing she could do to help them. Sometimes she wished she could be like the Targaryen Queens of old with their dragons, then she would put a stop to slavery but she was not. She was an exiled Targaryen princess with nothing but three petrified dragon eggs.
"Hello sweet sister," she heard Viserys and her good mood immediately turned sour. She closed her book and turned to face him. "I haven't you seen you in a few days,"
Daenerys didn't respond. She didn't want to say anything that could set him up.
"Stand up sister, let me look at the beautiful woman that you have become," He gripped her by the shoulders and roughly pulled her up. Daenerys winced in pain.
"You should eat more, sister. Your future husband will want a woman, not a little girl,"
The thought caused Daenerys to shudder. Viserys had been threatening to force her into a marriage for years.
"I don't know why you look so upset sister. Everyone else is contributing to our plan. I have a betrothal. Naerys is buying armies. What are you doing sweet sister?" He asked. Daenerys could see the anger building behind his eyes.
"It's only fair that you should help in some way. Since we are family,"
"What do you want?" Daenerys finally spoke.
"What is mine. Those eggs should be mine by rights. We could buy half the sellsword companies in Essos if we had them. Instead you do nothing with them. You just sit and look at them. Why sweet sister, why?" he asked and he started to pinch and pull her skin. Daenerys whimpered in pain.
"I'll tell you why, it's because you are a stupid little girl and you would do better to give them to me because I know what to do with them,"
"No," Daenerys said quietly. She would not give up her eggs. They were precious. She had felt a connection with the petrified eggs, a connection she could not describe. The rationale voice knew that the eggs were never going to hatch, but she couldn't help but hope.
Viserys quickly drew back his hand as if to slap her but he heard a low growl and stopped. She turned her head towards the noise and saw a white dog with ruby red eyes, it's teeth bared menacingly. Viserys let go of his sister and reached towards his sword, only to find that he did not have it. He started to back away from the wolf, throwing his sister one more scathing look.
"We will continue this conversation later sweet sister," he called as he left. Daenerys watched him leave and then turned to look for the dog, only to find that he had left as silently as he arrived. Deciding not to chance her luck further, she picked up her things and ran through the manse to her room.
She entered her room, bolted the door and slid to the floor. Her heart beating quickly, she was afraid of Viserys and what he would do to her in his angry moods. She was afraid that sooner or later, he would act on some of those angry thoughts. Once he had threatened to sell her to a Dothraki horse lord and she shuddered at the thought. She crossed the room and opened the chest containing the dragon eggs. She picked out the black egg and slowly started to caress it. The motion helped to calm her down. She traced the patterns in the egg and for a moment, she thought she felt movement. Before she could dwell on the thought more, she heard a knock on the door.
At first she thought it was Viserys and she immediately tensed, but the knock was soft, it was a servant. Still, she hid away her eggs and cautiously opened the door.
"Princess, Lord Naerys requests your presence in his solar," the servant said with a bow. Daenerys nodded in thanks. Her heart skipped a beat, he was back and she was happy. Viserys would leave her alone. She skipped through the halls, all the way to his solar. She opened the door and was greeted by a peculiar sight.
Lord Naerys was sat behind the desk. Across the floor lay the large dog with ruby red eyes and across from him, sat a boy, no, a young man, who looked like he had seen a ghost.
The Quiet Wolf
The Lord of Winterfell sat in the Godswood with his back to the heart tree, he was cleaning his greatsword, Ice. The godswood was always warmer than the surrounding area and today was no exception. He studied his reflection in the pool of water opposite him, his hair was longer and he could see a few strands of grey starting to appear around the edges. As he looked closer, he could see the tightness around his eyes and wrinkles forming. He sat back with a sigh, he was getting older, this was to be expected.
He had to organise betrothals, Robb was seventeen now and it was time for him to be wed. Lord Manderly had offered either of his granddaughters as a potential match but Ned was unsure. House Manderly may have been a northern house, but they did not practice all the northern ways. They had knights and perhaps most importantly, they followed the faith of the seven. His own bannermen had quietly protested when he married Catelyn, they said she was too southern for the Lord of Winterfell. Lord Karstark had a daughter he remembered, Alys Karstark, she would be a suitable match, she's a northern girl who is well educated in their ways and practices.
Sansa had dreams of going south and marrying a noble lord. She dreamed of living in a beautiful southern castle that held Tourneys and hosted singers. He wondered which southern houses would have a son of age to marry. The crown prince was of similar age he recalled, although he probably had offers from across the realm. Then they were Tyrells, he knew they had a few sons but he did not know their age, he would have to ask Maester Luwin.
He picked up the whetstone and went back to cleaning and sharpening his sword. He enjoyed these moments, it was calm and quiet and he was free from the troubles of being a lord.
"My Lord, Benjen Stark is here," he turned his head and saw a guardsman. Ned gave him a nod and got up with a sigh, he sheathed the sword and made his way out of the Godswood. He headed towards the yard, he was greeted by a sight that warmed his heart. Benjen stood clad all in black, being embraced by all his children, no doubt Arya and Bran were begging to hear stories of his ranging's beyond the wall. He walked forward, and he could start to here details of their conversation
"Uncle Benjen, is it true that there are mammoths and giants beyond the wall?"
"Don't be stupid Bran, giants and mammoths are made up. You need to stop listening to old nans stories," Arya snapped at him
"I am not stupid, you should listen to Old Nan more, all good stories have some truth in them,"
"Benjen!" he shouted stepping in before they continued to bicker His brother turned his head towards him and greeted him with a warm smile of his own
"Brother!" he returned and walked over and embraced him. "It's been too long. They're so big now, the littlest one was only a babe when I came here last,"
"Aye it has, they're becoming a handful. I presume you've been busy at the wall?"
"Yes, I led a ranging beyond the wall, I came here as soon as I got back and saw your message," his face turned serious then.
"Let's head to my solar, there is much to discuss," Benjen nodded and they walked briskly through the castle to his solar. Thankfully his steward and lit his fire and the room was pleasantly warm. He shook off his fur cloak and poured out some ale to drink, he offered a cup to Benjen who took it gratefully.
"Are you hungry? I could send for food if you are,"
"No no, I'll be fine, I'll eat with the kids later," he responded as he sat down opposite him. Taking a long drink. "This is good, better than the piss we have at the wall," he took another sip before setting the cup down on the table,
"You've never petitioned Lord Commander Mormont for leave so I could return to Winterfell, this must be serious,"
Ned took a moment before responding,
"He knows. Jon knows about Lyanna and Rhaegar,"
Benjen took another sip of his drink and nodded slowly
"How did he take it?"
"Not well. I told him after he came to me begging to join you at the wall. I think he's angry that I kept It from him for so long,"
"You did,"
"There was no good time to tell him Ben, it would have torn him apart,"
"It was going to tear him apart anyway. You don't want him to join the watch do you,"
"No. I've seen it, not all the men are like you. Lyanna's son has no place there. You knew her better than most, she would not have wanted this,"
"Aye you're right. The wall is no place for him, where is he now, I'll speak to him," he stood and began to walk to the door.
"You can't," Ned gave a loud sigh and sat back in his chair. Benjen gave him a confused look
"Why can't I speak to my nephew?"
"He's not here. I sent him to Pentos," he chanced a glance at Benjen and he was greeted with a disbelieving stare
"You did what? What on earth would possess you to send the boy to Pentos?" he crossed over to stand on the opposite side of the desk
"I wanted a better life than him that at the wall. I couldn't give that to him here, but in Essos he could have a fresh start,"
"A fresh start in Essos? A fresh start doing what? What does he know about Essos?
Little and nothing
"He could be a household guard, or work for a sellsword…"
Benjen gave a cruel laugh
"I can't believe you. You said you want a better life for him so you send him to Essos. So he can be butchered by sellswords or the dothraki? Can he even speak any of their languages? Tell me brother, would Lyanna be happy with what you've done?" Benjen angrily paced around the room.
Ned sighed in frustration. What he did was incredibly risky, but he had to take the chance
"Ben, the Targaryen children are in Pentos," and Benjen stopped his pacing and looked at him in shock. If the situation wasn't so serious, he would have laughed at the expression on his brother's face, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. He closed his mouth and started to shake his head
"How do you know," he said quietly.
"I received a note, it came from a merchant who travelled to White Harbour, Lord Manderly heard the news and passed the information on to me, he said it was up to his liege lord to report this information to the king,"
"Did you?" Ned raised an eyebrow in surprise, "report it to the King?"
"No," he replied quietly and Benjen let out a sigh of relief.
"So that's why you did it. You send him to Essos in the hope that he runs into his long-lost aunt and uncle who don't even know he exists and then what? You've looked at him everyday for the last seventeen years Ned, he looks like a Stark through and through. Do you expect them to accept him with open arms? Do you expect him to join their life on the run from that pig's assassins?"
Ned kept quiet, he would let Benjen say his piece
"You should have gone with him at least,"
Ned took a deep drink of ale. If only Benjen knew how close he was to following after the boy. "Aye I should have, but he wanted his space. Going with him would have angered him further,"
"So you sent him alone?"
"No, he went with Wendel Manderly. He frequently travels to Pentos, Braavos, those places. I met the man himself, he handles himself well, he knows his way about with a sword. He speaks their language and Lord Manderly trusts him. He will make sure Jon is safe,"
Benjen rubbed his temples and finished his drink. "For what it's worth, I think you're going to regret this. I think you do regret this, but there is nothing we can do now. All we can do is hope Jon is safe," he stood up and left the solar, letting the door swing shut after him
Ned sat back in his chair and drained his cup of ale, of course he regretted sending the boy to Essos. He had half a mind to travel after him and bring him home. He reached into his draw and pulled out a map of Essos and the free cities, Pentos was not too far he realised. Perhaps only a few weeks travel and he would be there. Then he would have to hope that he was still in Pentos when he arrived
He was interrupted by a knock on his door. "Enter," he said calmly as he calmly slid away the papers he was holding. It was his wife, their relationship had soured since Jon left, a part of himself blamed her for bullying him into letting Jon leave. Nevertheless, he needed her now.
"My lady," he greeted with a smile, "I was just about to come and find you, I have urgent business that would require me to leave Winterfell for a few weeks. I will need you to stay here and help Robb rule in my stead,"
Ned was puzzled to see the concerned look on his wife's face. Perhaps the damage to their relationship was deeper than he had thought, he would have to work to fix that.
"My lady?" he asked when she did not respond
"Ned my love, It's Jon Arryn, he died," she said quietly and handed over a scroll "A raven arrived from Kingslanding. The King rides north with his court, he intends to name you hand of the King,"
Hand of the bloody King?
"I don't want it, I didn't want it then and I don't want it now," he said firmly
"You know as well that you cannot refuse the King in this, he is bringing his court. Think of the children, think of Sansa, he may offer a betrothal to the crown prince. Think of it, our grandson will be King,"
Ned sighed in frustration. A grandson? I don't even know where Jon is and she wants me to think of a Grandson.
"Very well my lady, prepare the castle for the arrival of the King and his court. Send the boys out to the wolfswood to hunt. Make sure we are stocked up on wine as well, it would not do to run out with the King here,"
She nodded and left the room. Ned went and filled his cup with more ale, and drained the entire cup in one. Instead of heading to Pentos to bring Jon home, he would be heading to the cesspit known as Kingslanding
The Lost Prince
They walked in silence through the hallways. Jon was wary of the man, he was trying to save Wendel but had he not followed them, Wendel would not have gotten hurt in the first place. Perhaps most infuriatingly of all, Ghost had not shared his unease about this man, even running off on his own to explore the manse. The man pushed open an oak door and they entered what Jon assumed to be the solar. The man walked to the other side of the desk and sat down and motioned for Jon to do the same.
"So you are probably wondering why I followed you today?" he asked. Jon didn't reply, he would only speak when he had to
"It started with your dog, or should I say wolf. I saw him in the harbour today and the colour of his eyes threw me off guard. Then he ran back to you and I saw your face, I haven't seen a face like yours in years,"
Jon remained silent
"I immediately knew you weren't from here. You dress like a man from Westeros, like a northerner," he said. Jon was trying to build a profile of this man. Whilst he was talking Jon was observing. Earlier, the man spoke with a false accent, now his true voice was coming through. Jon couldn't place the accent, but he guessed that he was from Westeros, probably from the south.
"Then I looked again at the wolf and the bond you two shared. I have never seen a man control a wolf as well as you, but then again, you are a northerner, and wolves are more common in the north," Jon was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The man clearly knew a lot about him and he didn't know anything about him.
"Then I saw your face again and my heart stopped. You have her face,"
"Her face?" Jon asked curiosity starting to get the better of him.
"Yes her face. It all started to make sense to me, but I couldn't believe it. The direwolf, the face, your clothes. You are a Stark aren't you?"
Jon was dumbfounded, and his face showed it. He quickly tried to find a neutral face and he silently cursed himself for showing his surprise. The man noticed Jon's face and grew excited, he had realised that his suspicions were correct.
"So tell me, what is a Stark of Winterfell, doing all the way in Pentos? Surely Lord Stark would not send one of his children so far from home with only one man for company?"
Jon's anger returned after he heard that last part. He was once again reminded of the lies he was told.
"No, I am many things but I am not Lord Starks son," Jon said angrily. He expected the man to be discouraged by this but instead his eyes opened in shock and then they were suddenly filled with tears
"By gods…. You're Lyanna's son aren't you?" he asked quietly, his voice trembling "Of course...your age...you would be the right age...."
Jon's anger disappeared and was quickly replaced by fear. How could this man know his mother had a son?
"Enough with these games. Who are you?" Jon asked uneasily
"I can't….you won't believe me," he said quietly.
"Tell me!" Jon shouted angrily
"Jon, I am your father. I am Rhaegar Targaryen,"
The words hung heavily in the air between. He stared at the lips that uttered the words and waited for them to curve upwards into a smile, to confirm that this was some sort of a joke.
He looked at the man incredulously. A month ago, he had thought Ned Stark was his father. He found out that it was all a lie and then Rhaegar Targaryen, the last dragon, who died years ago was his father. Now he stood, halfway across the world to find this man claiming to be his father. It was impossible
"Lies," he said quietly. "More Lies!" he shouted angrily. Jon was fed up now. He had enough, he would find Wendel and when he was healed, if he was healed. They would leave this city for good. He stood up and headed for the door, only to find his path blocked by Ghost
Move Ghost. Move you stupid wolf we need to leave
"Jon please stay, I know this is hard for you, but I can prove it," Jon sat reluctantly, imprisoned by his own direwolf. He opened the door and spoke to a servant quickly. He then crossed to a cupboard and pulled out a sword.
"This is Blackfyre, our ancestral sword," he said.
Jon looked at the sword. Valyrian steel he knew immediately, it made his own sword look dull and blunt in comparison.
"You're a thief, this doesn't prove anything. This sword was lost years ago. You could have stolen it. You did steal it," Jon said, dismissing the sword. "Most importantly, Rhaegar Targaryen died on the trident. Robert Baratheon crushed his chest in with his Warhammer and his body fell into the river. Everybody saw the rubies in his armour fly into the air and into the river," he finished emphatically. He folded his arms across his chest, demanding the man to answer this impossible hurdle.
"Yes, I lost to Robert on the trident," he said. "Yes, he hit me with his damn Warhammer but that is not the proper story. There are two parts to Roberts Warhammer. The spiked head, and the flat surface on the other side. Everyone assumes that Robert drove the spike into my chest, but it was actually the flat part of his hammer. Had he hit me with the spike, I would have died, it would have pierced my armour and went through my chest, instead he hit me with the flat part. It was still extremely painful, and strong enough to knock me off my feet and into the river, yet the blow itself was not fatal," The man began to unbutton his shirt as he stood. When he finished he turned to face Jon, his face wide open with horror.
His chest had a massive dent in it and some of his ribs had looked like they healed and set in the wrong position. The broken ribs looked like a set of jagged teeth trying to poke through from beneath his skin. Jon's mouth fell opened in shock and he was unable to close it
"Impossible, you fell into a river with plate armour on, you should have drowned," he said shaking his head "Rhaegar had to drown, I don't know who you are, but you're not him,"
"Do you believe in prophecy? Or fate?" Jon shook his head. He was a man of the North, he did not have time for that bullshit
"Well I do, it seems the Gods were not finished with me, it seems I still have a role to play. It seems that is why they spared me" Jon looked at him and he had a far away look in his eyes.
"Your hair, Rhaegar had silver hair, he's a Targaryen," he said quietly. Of all the things, Jon knew this was the easiest to explain, but he had to cling to hope. This couldn't be true. The man smirked slightly,
"I dyed by hair, in my line of work the less attention I attract the better," he paused "Jon why don't you want to believe me? do you not want to know your father? I can tell you so much," his voice was soft and inviting
Jon paused. Why was he so reluctant to believe him? For the past few weeks he had been searching for an image of Rhaegar, trying to put a face to the name. Wanting to know why he did what he did, wanting to let his anger out on him for causing a war that killed thousands of people. Now here is a man claiming to be his father and he wouldn't believe him. Why? Was it his anger? Was it fear?
Suddenly the door opened and in burst a young woman. Whilst her eyes surveyed the room, Jon looked at her. She was beautiful he thought, long silver hair, gorgeous violet eyes and a beautiful smile that lit up the room. Jon had no doubt who she was, Daenerys Targaryen. Her eyes met his and he quickly looked away, embarrassed. Jon was fighting the truth again, this simply could not be true
"Brother, you're back," she breathlessly
It's true
Notes:
This chapter had the potential to run on a lot longer, so I had to find a place to stop it. I have the next part already written. I'll probably put it up either the 6th or the 7th
As always, let me know what you think, it's my first time writing something and constructive criticism is welcome
Thanks
Sleepy
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