*
"At long last I found you."
Prince Oberyn unceremoniously dropped down in the empty spot next to Jon. It was the exact same spot that had just been abandoned by Princess Daenerys. Jon's Kingsguards sat a bit further and kept Sam and Ser Davos company. They had all agreed to give the young couple some semblance of privacy even though Ser Gerold's eyes never wandered far from the location where his Prince was seated casually on the grass. The young couple had mingled amongst the smallfolk at first but after some time had retreated to a more secluded spot where they had been holding hands and sitting close to each other clearly enjoying this small break in their otherwise busy schedule.
"You found me some time ago and waited until Princess Daenerys left me alone for a while." Jon answered not looking at Prince Oberyn, his eyes following Dany who was walking away from him to chat with a few girls of the village.
As planned, they were all spending the evening on the beach and had joined the smallfolk's daily evening reunion. There was a kind of system in place that allowed twenty of these loyal simple folk to feast in the Great Hall. Sam had appointed a retired knight to organise this so that everyone got his fair turn. As long as the weather held, the rest of them preferred to join the now daily evening gatherings on the beach.
"Guilty." The Dornish Prince chuckled. "You do realise a bunch of very disappointed Lords are feasting in the Great Hall eating a delicious stew of I don't know what meat and drinking fine Dornish red. What have you eaten here?"
"A rabbit I shot myself and some fish that was offered to me. All roasted over the fire to perfection. I was not missing out on anything." Jon smiled now and turned to face the Dornish Prince who in his colourful long coat seemed more out of place than Jon who blended in with the smallfolk, wearing the dark worn out training outfit he had put on before venturing out on the beach.
"Not even a taste of this Dornish red? I can tell you I only brought the best. You just have to taste its rich flavour. It is a bit sour I grant you but that is the way real wine should be. Ladies favour sweet liquor. Us men prefer to have a stronger taste and effect. I heard you were an ale man mostly. Then you will prefer this wine to the sweeter Arbor Gold."
"You had me convinced with your second sentence, Prince Oberyn. Just pour me a cup already." Jon chuckled.
"Only if you omit the title and call me Oberyn. You are no longer a child and we are both Princes, at least for now. Soon you'll need to get used to being called your Grace by all and sundry. For now, I will be so bold as to call you Aegon, or do you prefer Jon?"
"I'll leave the choice to you. I'd understand if it would seem strange to you to call me by the name that you once called your nephew." Jon's eyes searched Oberyn's for a sign of unease.
"I would mind if it were anyone else. But you, you have proven yourself worthy of his name, Aegon." For once Prince Oberyn's eyes looked one hundred percent serious and honest.
"Thank you. That is high praise indeed. And please whether I am Prince or King, whatever happens, in private you'll always be allowed to address me without a title. You have earned that right."
Jon held out his cup and Prince Oberyn filled it from the pitcher he had stolen from the castle's kitchen earlier. "How have you been, Oberyn?"
"Bored as hell on the long journey by ship, but glad to be back to my scheming. I was wondering if I could attend the small council meeting tomorrow afternoon. I heard Lord Varys will arrive in the course of the morning. I'd love to sit in on that meeting."
"Then you are very welcome to join us. I'll have them send for you." Jon agreed to his request readily.
"Thanks." Oberyn looked around and noticed that the smallfolk respected their privacy. They were still present on the beach in large numbers. He had observed the Prince from afar long before Aegon had noticed his presence. The young man had been sitting leisurely in a circle of simple people, his arms around Princess Daenerys, occasionally stealing a kiss from her but all the same, laughing and joking with carpenters and farmers as if he was one of them.
"You are a true Prince of the people. You take it even further than my dear friend, your father, Prince Rhaegar. I wonder how that will go over with the noble Lords once you are crowned King." Oberyn remarked.
"There are more smallfolk than noble Lords in Westeros, Oberyn. If I am going to be a just ruler, I will have to look out for the interest of these people. I'll respect all the Princes and Lords of the realm as long as they don't abuse the smallfolk." Jon looked into his cup admiring the colour of the wine.
"Oh, to be young and still have ideals." Prince Oberyn commented. "I remember when I was young. I thought I freed some of the servants who according to my childish standards were being exploited by my father. A moon later, my father ordered me to come with him and we rode to this village half a day's ride from the palace. He forced me to observe the people from afar for some time. He had brought me there to show me how the families of the men I freed from their so-called forced labour were starving since they were deprived of the food and shelter their work had entitled them to."
He looked at the Targaryen Prince and his eyes grew more serious. "Aegon, I know not everything is as black and white as this example, but make it too easy on the smallfolk and they will grow lazy, believing that they are entitled to be looked after by you without having to do anything in return. If we don't all play our part, the realm will crumble."
"Don't worry. I learned from a young age that everyone needs to play their role for a society to thrive. Lord Reed explained that most of the servants and smallfolk find fulfillment in hard work and take pride in receiving appreciation from their Lord. It defines them, gives them a sense of self-worth, something to strive toward. Noble Lords that take their roles seriously work hard as well. They are responsible for the well-being of an entire community. My foster-father was very thorough in his lessons and Uncle Ned also instructed me on the responsibilities of a Warden and King anytime he got the chance."
"Then I'll stop lecturing. That is not my thing anyway. And I am being remiss. I extracted the happy news from Ser Arthur. We have not toasted yet to your betrothal. A most convenient match, Aegon." He raised his glass.
Jon mimicked the movement and both men drank deeply.
"Being the man of the people that you are, I once had the hope you might marry one of my daughters." Oberyn remarked staring absently into his almost empty cup.
Jon didn't reply immediately. He searched for the right words not wanting to offend his friend and ally. He took another sip of wine before he spoke. "I only met one of your daughters and she was a bit too forward to my liking. Our personalities did not match."
Oberyn laughed. "I know. It is just that you are one of the only nobles, a royal even that wouldn't mind marrying a Sand." He twirled his cup in his hands.
"I can legitimate all your daughters with one stroke of my quill soon, if that might help. To be honest, Nymeria's marriage prospects are more harmed by her behaviour than because of her status as a bastard. Surely you saw how she threw herself at me? My cousin, Robb Stark wrote to me of her behaviour while she was at Winterfell. He complained that she kept pursuing him, even after he had made it very clear that he wasn't interested. Even if she were a Princess, most Lords of the North wouldn't choose a wife who behaved so uh forward." Jon felt himself grow warm.
Oberyn sighed. "I saw. I used to think it was endearing how free spirited my daughters were. Are." He corrected himself. "And I never had a second thought about it. Dorne is less rigid when it comes to morals. That is true. You are right though. If they want a noble husband, they should behave a bit more circumspect. Nymeria however doesn't want to catch a husband."
"She could have fooled me," Jon muttered. "I'm sorry. That was rude. What does she want, Oberyn?" He was curious now.
"She wants to be recognised for her fighting skills. She wants to swear her sword to you." Oberyn now turned his head sideways, smiling a bit apologetically. "I know she didn't go about it the right way."
"Even if I'd consider it, I'd have to talk to Ser Gerold about it first. Are you sure that this is what she wants?" Jon wasn't all that certain that Nymeria Sand could live a long period in service to another.
"She told me even before she met you the first time at Greywater Watch. I'd have to check but I can't right now. I sent her to Dorne, officially to report to her uncle Doran but in reality to put a few things in motion over there. Now that we are on the subject of potential female warriors, your youngest cousin is also a promising fighter. I did what you asked and found an excellent teacher for her. I have taken the liberty to send for him already. He is an Essosi, well versed in the art of water dancing."
"Water dancing better be a fighting style befitting Arya and have nothing to do with actual dancing." Jon looked a bit skeptical.
"You hurt my feelings with your lack of confidence in me." Oberyn's free hand held his heart in a mocking fashion for a moment before he grew serious again. "Syrio Forel once was the first Sword of Braavos. His services do not come cheap."
Jon relaxed. "I'll pay for his fee. Thanks, Oberyn. I really appreciate you helping us with this."
"We'll convince Ned Stark to pay. I'll think of something." Oberyn smiled mischievously.
"How come I do not doubt that?" Jon muttered but the smile he was trying to suppress broke on his face anyway.
Prince Oberyn grabbed the pitcher once more and offered to fill Jon's cup again. Jon nodded his assent and sipped the red liquid grateful for the distraction.
"This is indeed a very fine wine. I might need you to negotiate a deal for me with the Dornish supplier." He remarked after he had drunk half of this second filling.
"Consider it done, Aegon. The man will be very pleased to boast to all and sundry he is the favourite supplier of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, in the very near future I mean of course."
"Of course. Would you be willing to tell me in all honesty what you meant before when you told me that Dany and I make a most convenient match?" The wine had loosened Jon's tongue somewhat, he felt a bit light in his head.
Oberyn looked surprised. "I thought that was evident. You are not giving any Kingdom the advantage over the others. Jealousy can create rivalries, and rivalries, well just read your history books again, Aegon. This is a very diplomatic solution. Not to mention that there are fire breathing dragons in the realm again. She has the blood of old Valyria. She is the best possible match for you."
He bumped gently into Jon, his eyes twinkling again. "And might I point out that she is head over heels for you which is always a plus. Not to mention how sweet she is on the eyes. You won't have much trouble convincing her to make lots of heirs and you will enjoy doing so thoroughly. I can go on and describe every lovely detail of her physique starting with the parts that are relevant to help you out, but..."
"You may stop already." Jon quickly interrupted with burning cheeks. Oberyn's words only enhanced the effect the wine was having on him. "My question was answered in full. I am satisfied."
"Satisfied, mmph. Truly? Has she already seen to your needs?"
"How was your reunion with Ellaria?" Jon deflected now red as a tomato.
"Oh no, you wouldn't want to hear those details, my boy. You're unwillingness to answer my previous question proves you can't handle that topic yet."
Jon swallowed not knowing how to respond to that. He searched desperately for another topic.
"You grew up with Ser Arthur. Did you know the Lady Ashara well?" He tried to get Oberyn to back off.
"I did. I might even have flirted with her at one time." Prince Oberyn accepted the change in subject opting to refrain from teasing the Prince for now.
"She very much resembles her brother. She must have been a beauty when she was a maid. Is she a widow and reverted to the use of her maiden name?" Jon pursued his line of questioning.
"She never married. I believe she fell in love once when she was very young but it didn't end well and she retreated from society for a time. Then her life was further uprooted when the Targaryens lost the Iron Throne, Ser Arthur disappeared and was presumed dead. She mourned her brother for several years before he was allowed to contact her."
"It is a shame." Jon sipped from his cup and sighed with contentment. "This really is excellent wine."
The Dornish Prince nodded. "Your betrothed is gesturing at you. Perhaps we should both go over. Don't worry I will just offer her my congratulations and vanish. You're lucky that I respect you enough not to make a pass at her. You wouldn't stand a chance. I know all the good tricks." He made an obscene gesture with his tongue and eyes.
Jon just laughed. "I consider myself very lucky. On all counts. Perhaps even tomorrow in the training yard I might get lucky and teach you a lesson?"
"I feel a headache coming up." Oberyn lifted his hand to his forehead in a theatrical gesture. "I am afraid I will need to rest up and get well so I can attend the council meeting in the afternoon. Perhaps some other time."
"Another time it is. I'll ask again tomorrow evening. You better start thinking of a better excuse to use then." Jon smiled, stood with a bit of difficulty and offered his hand to help the Dornish Prince up.
***
It was dark when Jon and Dany walked back to the castle. Jon was still a little tipsy from the wine and held Dany close to him, his arm around her waist.
"Did you enjoy yourself, Dany? Those were all simple folk telling you about their daily routines, their small successes and little problems." His hand that held her waist started stroking her side sensually.
"I did actually. I also enjoyed how you felt at ease amongst them, Aegon. Nobody would suspect you were the True King when they saw you mingle with these folk sitting on the ground, eating simple fare. You understood them and knew what they were talking about as well as if you had lived among them. Oh, but you have." She looked at him trying to ignore the warmth of his hand on her lower hip that had moved even lower and was caressing her buttocks now.
"Indeed, I lived in a small community and the knights and I helped out where we could. I enjoyed that simple live. Whenever my lessons and training sessions were finished, I would roam the environment. More so after I had acquired Ghost. He had an infallible instinct for where we were most needed." His hand had returned to her waist again but was now moving upward toward her breast.
"And I sat inside a luxurious villa and knew nothing about the struggles of the common folk." She leaned into him rather enjoying his unusual forwardness. He normally was more circumspect. Although it was dark, they were still outside and Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur were walking not too far behind.
"Don't worry, Dany. You are doing fine. They are already embracing you. You provided a lot of them with an extra income. Folks appreciate the fact that you show your face regularly and take an interest in their efforts. And you are marrying their darling Prince. But let's change the subject." He hand now cupped her breast.
"To what?" Her words sounded almost like a squeak.
She stopped walking and looked into his dark eyes. He dropped his hands and turned to her so they stood face to face.
"See this beautiful moon, the cliffs of Dragonstone, our home visible from here and only two guards staying behind, guarding us very discreetly, barely able to see in the dark what we are doing?" His voice was seducing her all on its own since his hands hung still against his own body.
"Yes." She smiled feeling a familiar tingling rise in her body. "I can see all that."
"See this young man standing in front of you now? Do you see his lips that are longing for mmph."
Jon felt her arms close around his neck as she silenced him by putting her lips on his. He in turn encircled her waist and reciprocated her kiss. His lower body pressed into hers. He continued kissing her keeping her body locked tightly against his. A discreet cough from Ser Gerold made Jon pull back and end their embrace. Daenerys looked at him her lips swollen and her eyes even half closed betrayed the passion he had awoken in her.
"Time to go inside, my Prince. You have an early morning and it is getting rather chilly. The Princess is not suitably attired for this fall in temperature.
"Let's race you to the steps then." Jon replied impulsively. Taking Dany's hand in his, he pulled her forward and together they raced towards the winding stairs. Ser Gerold looked exasperated but did his best to keep up, followed closely by a grinning Ser Barristan the Bold.
***
The next morning Jon cancelled his training. Not only because of the effect the Dornish wine had on his mind and body. Normally Jon would work through that. A long message had arrived from Lord Reed and after decoding the first half of it he had informed his Kingsguard on duty to alert the ones waiting for him in the courtyard that his daily training was cancelled and to locate Davos and ask him to attend to him immediately.
A bit later Ser Arthur reported back to Jon. "Davos Seaworth has gone down to the docks this morning to inspect the status of the ships. I sent a messenger over. He will be here as soon as possible."
"Then leave word that he can find me in the Godswood. I am going over there as soon as I have finished decoding this message."
Ser Arthur looked at him but Jon offered no more info and the knight kept silent. There was a council meeting scheduled for that afternoon with the additional presence of the Master of Whisperers. The knight probably knew that he would be informed of anything important, if not now, then certainly during that meeting. He waited near the door and escorted his Prince to the Godswood as soon as Jon had tucked the message he had been scribbling on away.
When Jon entered the garden where the sapling of the heart tree of Winterfell was growing steadily, he saw Lady Ashara Dayne standing before it. It appeared she was praying. Before he had a chance to retrace his steps and leave her in peace, she spotted him.
"My Prince," she bowed. "Don't leave on my account. I was finishing up anyway."
Jon nodded his head in answer to her greeting. "I didn't know you worshipped the Old Gods, Lady Dayne."
"I don't. It is just being in a Godswood helps me remember …, never mind." She sighed. "You know, you are the spitting image of your uncle when he was your age."
Jon looked at her taken aback. "You knew Lord Eddard Stark? Or did you know Brandon Stark before uh,"
He cursed inwardly and wondered how you phrased in polite conversation that your mad grandfather killed your other grandfather together with his son who also happened to be one of your uncles? Luckily Ashara Dayne spoke up and saved him from having to complete his sentence.
"I knew both of them. I met them at the tourney of Harrenhal before the Rebellion. They were both nice men, very unlike one another in disposition, but both nice in their own way." She answered softly, smiling a bit sad.
Jon's mind was working a mile a minute. She hadn't married because of a love that hadn't ended well. Uncle Brandon had died young.
"I reckon you have never met my uncle Benjen? If not you would have included him in your praise." He tried to steer the conversation away from the unfortunate fate of his uncle Brandon.
"I only met Benjen Stark briefly. He was hardly more than a child back then. It has been a long time since I had the pleasure to meet any of the Starks again." Another sad smile ghosted over her face.
"You'll meet Lord Eddard Stark when you visit King's Landing. Benjen Stark will come south as soon as his business in Winterfell has been taken care of." He smiled encouragingly at her.
"Perhaps," she answered hesitantly. "I'll let you pray in private, my Prince." She bowed and turned away before Jon could think of a reply. She smiled and greeted her brother and Ser Oswell when she passed them but didn't linger knowing they were on duty.
Jon watched her until she disappeared from sight. Perhaps he should ask Ser Arthur. He might be willing to tell him if in another life, he could have called Lady Dayne, Aunt Ashara. He knelt before the small heart tree and tried to empty his mind as Lord Reed had taught him.
At first nothing happened but then he felt a warm welcoming feeling. It was as if the Gods were reaching out to him, or if not the Gods, then at least a friendly entity. His mind tried to reach out further to make more sense of what was happening.
Suddenly things changed drastically. It felt as if the winds picked up and a shiver ran over his back. Gone was the warm welcome, instead it grew colder and he felt threatened. The eerie feeling grew. This was not a vision from the Gods. Jon wanted to open his eyes but couldn't. Somehow he was unable to move. Jon was getting scared and fought the strange enchantment that was keeping him prisoner. He startled when a hand touched him and he tried to shake it off.
"Calm down son, it is only me. You are shivering." Davos' calm voice was able to reach Jon and he succeeded in breaking his trance.
Jon slowly opened one eye. Seeing Davos looking at him with a worried expression, he exhaled and carefully opened his other eye. The feeling dissipated. The connection or whatever had happened to him had been broken.
"Davos?"
"You feel cold, Jon. Are you alright?"
"It seems I am now. Thanks, Davos." Jon answered his wits coming back again. "I don't know what happened. I felt unable to move. Something or someone was drawing me in. I won't try that again anytime soon."
"Try what exactly? I feel out of my depth here, my Prince. Politics I can handle. Magic is something I don't know anything about and I am rather wary of."
"That makes two of us, Davos. I was only trying to contact the Gods, to be given guidance, a vision perhaps to make more sense of some troubling things."
"Do I know of these troubling things you are referring to?" He studied the young man and saw him getting nervous."
"Not all of them," Jon admitted a bit embarrassed. "Some things are still too unclear to burden you all with."
"Isn't that what we are here for? To help you carry your burden? I can understand that you are reluctant to tell the entire council, but can't you at least tell me? I will keep it quiet if that is your wish."
"I know, Davos. But I wouldn't want to worry you needlessly or freak you out when I am not sure …" his voice trailed off.
"Tell me, son. Not as your Hand, but as your trusted friend. Tell me as you would tell your father if he was still alive." He encouraged the Targaryen Prince.
"Perhaps we should find a better place for this, where we can both sit down and talk privately?" Jon looked over to where two of his Kingsguard were keeping a close eye on him. Ser Gerold had decreed that with all the visitors coming and going, Jon needed at least two protectors at all times when he ventured outside his quarters. Mostly he didn't mind but at times like this or when spending time with Dany, it could grow a bit uncomfortable.
"How about the abandoned caves?" Davos suggested. "They have stopped mining the dragonglass. All the men are working on the Targaryen armour, banners and sails. Ser Arthur will agree that you are safe in there if he is guarding the only entrance.
Jon nodded and they walked the small distance in silence. He used the time to gather his thoughts.
When they entered the caves it was obvious that Davos had been there before. Without looking twice, his Hand took a torch hanging against the walls and lit it. Then he guided Jon through a few narrow passage ways until they reached a large open space. Jon looked around and admired the rough rocks. The light of the torch made the pieces of dragonglass still embedded in the walls shine like coloured gemstones.
"Amazing," he uttered. "I should bring Dany here to see this."
"We can sit down over there." Davos led him to a flat rock that could be used as a seat. "Now tell me and don't hold back. What have you been keeping from me that is weighing you down?"
Jon tore his eyes away from the glittering walls and focused his thoughts. "Perhaps I should start from the beginning?"
"Please do. I freed my schedule for the entire morning. There is enough time left before lunch to tell an entire life's worth of dreams and nightmares."
"It all started when I got ill before leaving to save Robb at the Dreadfort." Jon hesitated. "I made myself ill. I can't tell you exactly what I did. Suffice it to say that I did something to induce greendreams because at the time I was struggling with … . Never mind that isn't relevant now."
"Tell me anyway, Jon. I want to know what drove you to put your health at risk." Davos would use the opportunity to get to the bottom of this, glad the Prince brought the subject up himself.
"I felt guilty for wanting to marry Dany for love and not for political reasons. At the time I feared either my choice might bring a war about because I failed to annex a Kingdom by marriage or worse, that by marrying her I condemned my offspring to madness. You were not here and I kept thinking of this possibility that my great-great-uncle Aemon at the Wallhad told me about, uh a possibility to induce visions. I am telling you more than I should already. This is supposed to be a big Targaryen secret only to be revealed to the heir of House Targaryen."
"I gather you were reassured by whatever you experienced since you are betrothed?" Davos was still at a loss as to why he had been summoned to come to his Prince's side in such haste.
"No, I came to that decision through other means. The Gods, or whatever powers that granted me a glimpse of the future, didn't bother with whom I should or should not marry. I came to the decision to marry Dany after thinking long and hard about it and to be honest after a very fruitful and welcome conversation with Uncle Benjen."
"Okay, then what happened with the greendream you uh forced on yourself?" Davos frowned.
"The vision I got showed me something else. It has to do with what I told you about already. You recall? A King to defeat a King."
Davos nodded. "You on a field of ice and fire. You told us that yesterday."
"I did not tell you all I saw." Jon took a deep breath to find the courage to say it out loud.
"I saw myself and the Night King, in single combat. Nobody could reach us because we were engulfed in a ball of fire. The fire did not seem to harm us much. I fought with my sword that had also caught fire. I did not see the outcome of the fight but I could feel myself weakening from the heat. I might defeat him, Davos. Sam at least seems to think so."
Jon looked up at the calm, compassionate weathered face of Davos. He swallowed and added. "But I'm not sure that I will survive the fight."
"Why not? Didn't Bran see a vision of you with grey hair?" Davos asked staying calm, neither changing his expression, nor moving a muscle.
"It could be a descendant who looks just like me. It is also possible that the vision will never come to pass. The choices we and also our enemies make in between might change the outcome. Lord Reed often warned me the future isn't set in stone since we still have free will."
Jon looked up at Davos and sighed. "I can't explain why. While I was experiencing the vision, I feared the possibility that I might perish. I could feel my arms and legs tiring. It must have been a long fight." Jon paused and took a few deep breaths to hold the feeling of doom that was creeping up on him once more at bay.
"I should train harder still. I might be a good swordfighter but he matched my skill. It seemed as if he knew my moves before I even made them. I suspect he is a greenseer as well, perhaps one even more powerful than little Cousin Bran or Lord Reed. It is possible that he had a detailed vision of the fight and can adapt his strategy. Anyway I felt …," Jon suddenly looked away a stricken look on his pale face.
"Jon? Son, what is the matter? You are shivering once more." Davos put his hand on his shoulder to offer comfort.
"I experienced a feeling of doom, of foreboding, just like, just like the one I felt before the heart tree when you startled me. It makes me wonder if I felt the presence of the Night King. These experiences were eerily identical."
"If that is the case, perhaps you should consult Lord Reed about this. He might tell you whether you are just imagining things or if there is indeed a possibility for greenseers to reach out to each other through the trees."
Jon let out a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, that is a good idea. I will make another stop there on my journey north."
Davos had taken his hand of Jon's shoulder and both men sat in silence for a moment. "I don't like this Jon. I don't like this one bit. Not about the single combat, not about you no longer being safe in the Godswood."
Jon nodded again but kept silent.
"I understand you not wanting to talk to anyone yet. It all seems so far-fetched. Are you really fireproof?"
"Not entirely. The fire of my dragons can't hurt me. I can get a slight burn from normal fire and I heal faster than usual."
"Let Sam do some research. Even if you don't tell him everything, he can research the use of fire by Targaryens and their vulnerabilities. For the other thing, I can only counsel you to visit Lord Reed on your way north, Jon."
Jon nodded deep in thought. A bit later he spoke up again. "Talking about Lord Reed, I just got a long message from him. Actually, that is the reason I summoned you here. It is not good news…"
***
Varys had indeed arrived in time for lunch and soon after they all gathered in the beautiful council room at Dragonstone. Never before had there been this many advisers seated at the painted table since Jon had started using the room. Only Ser Barristan was not attending. He had volunteered to accompany their guests on a tour of the harbour and the workshops.
Jon had taken his normal place that happened to be where King's Landing and the Driftmark were painted on the table. Sam sat to his left now, his scrolls covering the Stormlands. It was Davos who sat to his right close to the Fingers this time. Dany had taken a seat next to Davos, her delicate hands were tracing the contours of White harbour. Varys was quick to claim the chair opposite Jon near the Westerlands. Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell sat respectively before the Reach and Oldtown. Ser Arthur hands fiddled with a wooden miniature boat that had been left by someone on Cape Kraken. Prince Oberyn had opted to sit to the left of Sam, considering it the righteous place of a Dornish Prince at the painted table.
"We should have wooden miniatures carved out." Varys commented looking at the one Ser Arthur was toying with. Wolves to depict the Starks, Stags for the Baratheons and so on. Then we can plan battles on this table."
"I hope we won't need those anytime soon." Jon remarked. "If everyone is present, perhaps we should start."
Varys stood. "May I begin with offering my congratulations to you and the Princess? I was most pleased to hear of your betrothal. A most convenient and satisfactory decision. I wish you both every happiness." He bowed and looked satisfied when he witnessed Jon and Dany exchanging warm happy smiles.
"We thank you." Jon answered and Dany nodded her head towards Varys.
"Perhaps you should start, Lord Varys. We are eager to hear the news from the capital." Davos practical as ever moved things along.
Varys sat down. "Most of the efforts right now are directed versus organising the tournament. Lord Royce has been put in charge of the logistics and reports back to the Hand of the King. He asked me to convey his greetings. If he hadn't been given this responsibility and a temporary seat on the small council, he would have liked to accompany me to swear fealty to you in person. Instead," he reached inside his pocket and took out a scroll. "He gave me this document to hand over to you. It is his formal pledge that the Vale will stand behind you and support your claim."
He handed the scroll across the table to his future King. "Well done, my Prince." He added. "Lord Royce has done nothing but sing your praises. You made an impression on him and not just because you swiftly dealt with the situation at the Eyrie." He smiled when he saw the modest reaction of the Targaryen Prince. The young man would make an excellent King.
"Thank you Lord Varys. When will the tournament be held exactly?" Jon was quick to cover his slight embarrassment with the unexpected praise.
"Preliminary competitions are to start in two sennights." Seeing Jon's questioning gaze he explained. "Too many knights have entered the list. The ones that have never before engaged in a jousting event in the capital will have to compete amongst themselves in a sort of pre-tournament. Only the best ten will be allowed to enter the main list and join the veterans. If nothing happens," he gave Jon a significant look, "the actual tournament will start in three sennights and will last for three days."
"My Prince?" Ser Arthur asked, looking at him expectantly. "Any luck you will be back by then?"
Jon sighed. "I don't think so. That would be around the time that the dead arrive at Hardhome. I intend to fly North in a sennight so I can help set up the last traps. In all probability I won't be here before the event has ended."
Varys lifted another scroll from his pocket. "A pity. I believe in this message the Hand of the King urges you to come to King's Landing first before heading North."
"We discussed this more than once already. It is too high a risk." Jon answered. "Even if all goes well and everything is ready from me to enter the Throne Room disguised as Lord Celtigar and just calmly seat myself on the Iron Throne with the help of all our loyal supporters over there, I can't simply announce my rule only to abandon it the next day to head north for a moon's duration or more."
He looked around to see several nodding heads. With his gaze fixed on Lord Varys he continued. "I must stay there to receive oaths of fealty. Besides, once I am King, the people will need to see me in person. They will expect an official inauguration. I will also have to reassure them that the dragons mean them no harm but instead will help protect them. The best way to do that is by example. Surely you all realise that in this case, seeing is believing. But most important of all, I will have to react swiftly if anyone chooses to rebel. It is highly likely that an uprising might come from Prince Stannis and the Stormlands."
Davos coughed and looked at Jon with a meaningful stare.
Jon shook his head and spoke quietly with Davos. "Let us first deal with the other issues before tackling that one."
"What have you and the Hand of the King answered to Lord Lannister's demands." Davos was quick to ask the Master of Whispers and Jon nodded gratefully to his Hand.
"Nothing yet, my Prince. We both were of the opinion you should have a say in that."
"Can't we invite him to come to Dragonstone?" Prince Oberyn proposed. "I am sure Lord Tyrion of House Lannister and Prince Aegon would get along just fine. The dwarf is no typical Lannister, not by a long shot."
"It would take him too long to arrive." Ser Arthur reminded them all of the distance between the Rock and Dragonstone.
Sam now turned to Jon with a wan smile. "Might I suggest that he be sent a letter written by the esteemed Dragonrider himself containing the promise of a visit from the True King and his dragons as soon as the undersigned's most pressing business has been taken care of?"
"I could hint at a possible betrothal between his niece and the heir of Highgarden but urge him to keep it a secret for now." Jon added.
"My Prince?" Davos asked.
"Trust me in this, Davos. I have a very good reason to suggest this. It will also serve Lady Tyrell right for stalling. I will relish using my royal authority to take the choice away from her and overrule her wishes. Not to mention the added bonus that the heir of Highgarden will be my most loyal subject when he hears about this."
"Aegon, do you mean to imply that Lord Willas of House Tyrell would agree to marry a bastard?" Princess Daenerys turned to Jon, her eyes pleading with him to show mercy to the two young people involved.
Jon leaned over so he could look at her past Davos. "They love each other, Dany. I have it on good authority. Besides she will be legitimated by then," he added in a gentle tone. His honest Stark eyes held hers until she averted them and he could see how her cheeks had gained a rosy tint.
Davos coughed discreetly to draw Jon's attention away from the Princess. "As long as it is nothing more than a hint and no formal promise, I agree. Otherwise we run the risk to create an alliance between two Kingdoms that might rebel. I urge you to only finalise the betrothal when they have sworn allegiance to you in front of witnesses."
Jon nodded and was joined by most of the others. Sam was just scribbling away. Prince Oberyn was the only one who voiced his opinion out loud when he exclaimed. 'Damned right!"
Davos considered the subject closed and moved on to the next topic. "Lord Varys, we want you to remove the lethal poisons from Maester Pycelle's cabinet. Sam was preparing a message to that effect but since you are here we can ask you in person. It has to do with a premonition of our greenseer."
"I see. I'll try to do that without Maester Pycelle's knowledge and will only inform him after the fact. Perhaps Prince Oberyn might be willing to help me to identify the substances." Varys turned to look at the Dornish Prince.
"Why tell the old fart?" Prince Oberyn objected. "I could easily replace most of them with harmless liquids so he wouldn't notice. If we tell him, the old conniver might be brewing them anew for all we know."
"What has the old Grand Maester done to you, Prince Oberyn?" Varys sighed. "We can't antagonise him since a Grand Maester's position is for life. He could endanger our Prince's life if we make him our enemy."
"I don't trust him." Prince Oberyn pouted. "Besides, if we substituted his potions with harmless liquids he couldn't hurt our Prince that way and I think Prince Aegon can handle him in a swordfight."
"Prince Aegon?" Prince Oberyn looked at Jon with hopeful eyes. "Can't you see the merit of keeping him in the dark for now?"
"My great-great-uncle was older than Grand Maester Pycelle is now and he was still an asset to the Watch and of great support to me. I can't really express an opinion without knowing the man. I will have to rely on those who worked closely with him. Lord Varys, are you sure that you can trust Grand Maester Pycelle?"
"I do not question his loyalties, not yet anyway. I have to admit that he is growing lazy and incompetent. At times one could call him senile. A Maester, certainly a Grand Maester should be careful with his lethal potions and keep them under double lock and key and we have seen the consequences of his negligence in this respect. If you want a complete report on the man's abilities, I must add that Grand Maester Pycelle often falls asleep during important meetings. I suspect this happens because he spends a part of his nights plaguing female servants or young whores with his attentions, even at his advanced age. The times he is awake during the small council meetings, he never really contributes anything of value. We all have to pick up his slack. He won't be an asset to your rule, my Prince." Varys admitted.
"If that is the case and he is a mere figurehead, then I will allow Prince Oberyn to deceive him and replace the harmful potions with neutral liquids. The entire Maester's system is in great need of being reformed." Jon quickly looked away from Prince Oberyn's satisfied grin in order to keep his face neutral. He turned his attention back to the Master of Whispers.
"Lord Varys, what about the rumours that were spread about a dragonrider coming to burn King's Landing and all its inhabitants. Have you made any progress in your investigations?"
"I have finally tracked down the source. It was an emissary sent by the Red Priestess that resides in the Stormlands. I have been able to discredit the rumours and am working on spreading the story of a kind and noble dragonrider helping Westeros by saving our coasts from Ironborn raids. The tide is turning slowly. Give me a bit more time and the inhabitants of King's Landing will no longer cower in fear at the simple mention of a dragonrider. I'm not promising the dragons will be hailed with cheers, but there won't be a full blown panic. At least that is my hope."
"Are there rumours surfacing about my return to Westeros, Lord Varys?" Princess Daenerys wanted to know.
"Only the ones I am introducing." He answered bowing his head to her. "I have paid a minstrel to wander from tavern to tavern and sing a song depicting your beauty, your kind heart and your yearning to be allowed to live on the shores where you were born. An entire verse is dedicated to how the exiled Princess longs for a memory of her kind mother and dearest brother Rhaegar who dearly loved the people of King's landing and how they in turn were adored by the smallfolk. It ends with the heartfelt hope that it won't be long now before her lifelong dream might become reality. The minstrel prays that the Seven will grant the Princess her wish and that any day now she will walk the hallowed grounds of her homeland again." His sing song voice trailed off.
Nobody spoke up. Lord Varys saw everyone staring at the Princess whose face had taken on a dreamy look.
"It is quite a masterpiece, even if I say so myself." The Master of Whispers added when nobody offered a comment. "It has been picked up by other performers and the versions have grown lengthier, the melody has evolved and has become a lot more enchanting than the initial version."
"I thank you for that, Lord Varys. I look forward to hearing that song myself." Princess Daenerys said softly. She took a deep breath and added in a more serious tone. "And what is the status regarding King Robert's betrothal?"
"We're still stalling. The Baratheon King is distracted by his mistress and the annulment is not yet formalised." Varys smiled proudly. "That is one plan that is working perfectly."
He looked at Davos and Jon now. "As for keeping him calm and preventing him from making important changes or making rash decisions, we have a problem. King Robert is furious about what happened to his bastard son Edric Storm. He is guarding his niece, the Princess Shireen closely and has opened negotiations with Lord Royce for a potential betrothal between his niece and Lord Robin Arryn."
"That is not a rash decision but merely a tepid reaction at best." Prince Oberyn threw in. "I would instantly have called my banners and beheaded Prince Stannis."
"That is exactly what King Robert intends to do. He is even debating calling Prince Renly back from the Wall so he can become the Lord of Storm's End again after the King has executed Prince Stannis for burning nobles." Varys replied. "Lord Stark and I are doing our utmost to try and get him to negotiate with Stannis Baratheon first. The fact that Prince Stannis in his latest message accused the King of kidnapping his niece doesn't help matters."
Davos coughed once more and looked pointedly at Jon. "We might have received some information about that. But first tell us Lord Varys, did you receive other intelligence from the Stormlands?"
"Nothing that I have been able to verify adequately. A rumour becomes valuable news only when you hear it from enough independent sources to lend it credit. I have nothing but unconfirmed rumours, my Prince."
"Tell them to us all the same." Jon encouraged him. "We might be able to confirm some of them."
"Apparently the Red priestess, Melisandre has lost the child she was carrying and is said to be rather ill. Stannis might be negotiating with Euron Greyjoy and even be contacting sellsword companies in Essos. It might even be possible that he is approaching major bannermen from Dorne and the Reach. But I can't tell you for sure that any of these rumours are to be taken seriously." He ended his report with an apologetic expression on his face.
"That is all?" Jon and Davos exchanged glances once more.
"I hate to give misinformation, my Prince. But if you want me to tell you, I will do so under the risk of relaying mere gossip that has not a single grain of truth in it." He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
"It has come to my ears that the Lords of the Stormlands that have refused to heed his call to banners, have been threatened to have their lands seized and their family members offered to R'hllor, to be burned alive that is, if they do not reconsider swiftly."
"Let me be an independent source to help you along here then." Jon said with authority. "We received a raven from Lord Reed this morning. He wrote that somehow the magic shield protecting the Stormlands from his visions has lifted. He writes of the miscarriage of the Red Priestess and speculates she was the one keeping his visions at bay with her magic. Ever since she has been ill, he and my young cousin have been granted several visions. He warned me about a possible alliance between Euron Greyjoy and the Baratheon Prince. Apparently Prince Stannis is so deluded that he believes he is the Rightful King so ordained by the Lord of Light. He proclaims that in order to fulfil his role of the Prince Who Was Promised and become the saviour that will rescue the realm from the Dark Night full of Terrors, he must become more powerful first. He intends to depose his brother to become the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Only then can he go on a pilgrimage to save the realm from the Great Enemy in the Lands of Always Winter."
"He would dethrone his own brother?" Ser Gerold asked incredulously. "That is unlike the Stannis I knew."
"I spoke to Thoros of Myr personally." Prince Oberyn countered. "The Priest states that Stannis has turned into a fanatic. According to him Prince Stannis is totally convinced that he is the reincarnation of Azor Ahai. He has become a zealot and a fool."
"What does that make me?" Jon muttered under his breath. Aloud he spoke. "That is not all Lord Reed warned me about. He said an undead foe from the south is coming for me before the Night King will."
"Night King?" Prince Oberyn asked perplexed. "Undead foe? Can it be that I am missing some vital information here?"
Jon leaned forward and turned his head so he could look at the Dornish Prince. "We have taken to calling the leader of the White Walkers the Night King." Jon explained. "As to the undead foe in the South, I have no idea what he means, neither does Lord Reed. Not yet anyway."
"Uh perhaps," Sam stuttered.
"Yes Sam," Jon encouraged his friend to speak.
"I had read that disciples of R'hllor, red priests and maybe also priestesses can sometimes bring someone who has recently died back to life. Since Thoros of Myr is our ally I wrote to him and asked if this was some kind of metaphor or whether I should interpret this literally. He wrote back confirming he had resurrected his friend, Lord Beric Dondarrion when he had sustained a deadly wound in a sword fight. So we must assume it is possible."
"What are you saying exactly, Lord Tarly?" Davos asked.
"Uh nothing precisely, just that someone who was brought back to life could be considered uh undead? Then Lord Reed's vision could be interpreted in that way?" He looked hesitantly at the Targaryen Prince.
Varys looked at the young Lord Tarly studying him thoughtfully. The Targaryen Prince had written to him that his friend was uncommonly smart but lacking in confidence. The Prince had informed him that Samwell Tarly was set to become a major adviser and already proved a major asset. According to Prince Aegon, Tarly was set to become a Grand Maester at a very young age not long after he had forged his chain. Now Varys understood. This young Lord showed great potential indeed.
"It might even be Prince Stannis himself." Varys supported Tarly's idea. "The Red Priestess Melisandre could have resurrected him at some point."
Sam nodded. "Or will do so in the near future. Just bear in mind that we do not know for sure. For all we know, it might be Euron Greyjoy or anyone else residing in the South."
"Remember these visions are always vague about a timeline." Jon warned. "Perhaps it is a warning that the dead might reach the South." he ventured.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Davos stated. "Let us focus on the threat of the Stormlands for now and see which bannermen Stannis has been able to rally to his cause."
Jon looked at Varys. "I can also confirm your far-fetched rumour of Lord Stannis threatening to burn the families of bannermen who refuse to heed his call. Lord Reed mentioned this as well."
"That man never ceases to amaze us." Ser Gerold threw in. "How do we proceed with the Stormland bannermen that have come to us for advice on what to do about their Liege Lord's summons? They are torn between their belief in our cause and the threat to their lands and loved ones."
"We must find a way to stall for time and bring their families to safety. Anyone have any ideas?" Jon spoke up again.
"That still leaves their lands open to be plundered." Ser Oswell pointed out. "If only we could find a way to hinder them from leaving the capital without the blame falling on them."
Jon and Davos exchanged a few short whispers.
"Varys, can't King Robert send a raven to his brother in the Stormlands condemning the murder of Edric Storm and once more ordering Prince Stannis to come to the capital? This time it has to be with the express purpose of asking for forgiveness for having burnt the King's bastard. As a further incentive to get his brother to agree to this royal command, King Robert will add that he has prohibited the Lords of the Stormlands residing in the capital to leave King's Landing for the time being. Any Stormlord disobeying his orders will be proclaimed a traitor to the Crown and be thrown in the black cells. Mention that they have all been put under heavy observation." Davos was the one that spoke up and Jon merely nodded his agreement.
"I'll return to King's Landing tomorrow morning and together with Lord Stark we will get the King to agree to this. Consider it done!" He looked at the Targaryen Prince while he promised this.
"Thank you, Lord Varys. Now another issue that was raised is Prince Stannis' attempt to recruit overseas. I already informed you that the Golden Company had been contacted to assist in a fight against royal forces in Westeros. Since Strickland, their captain-general has promised us to remain neutral, we need not fear the Golden Company will sign a contract with Prince Stannis. Is there a way to find out the answer of the other sellsword companies?" Jon asked.
"It takes time to hear back from them." The Master of Whispers admitted.
"Ser Jorah is still in Pentos. Perhaps he can try to find out?" Princess Daenerys offered.
"Why is he still in Pentos?" Prince Oberyn asked his tone accusing. "Are you sure he is so loyal to you when he is still hiding overseas awaiting a royal pardon? You are here without one, aren't you? Isn't he sworn to protect you?"
"I allowed him to stay there a bit longer. He is awaiting my orders." Daenerys defended her sworn sword before Jon could interfere.
"I have several contacts in Essos. Not only in Pentos. I'll reach out to them." Varys promised and the subject was closed.
"Anything else?" Ser Arthur asked. "Or can we consider the subject of the Stormlands handled for now.
"There have been two assassinations attempts on King Robert's life. Two almost identical ones. Assassins trying to shoot King Robert with arrows while he is standing on his balcony to take in some fresh air. One suspect was apprehended and shouted we are all on the wrong side. The Rightful King will soon marry Princess Arianne and bring peace to the Realm. Unfortunately he was able to slit his own throat before the guards could prevent him."
All eyes turned to Jon.
"Don't look at me." The young Prince exclaimed. "It has become clear I am not the only one who claims to be the Rightful King. This man had obviously been brainwashed, most probably by Prince Stannis."
"As we have been brainwashed by you?" Prince Oberyn said light-heartedly. But his joke fell flat.
"This is serious." Ser Gerold reprimanded them. "Stick to the topic at hand. Perhaps someone in Dorne is also preparing an attempt to claim the Iron Throne. Prince Stannis is already married."
"Is it really such a problem that someone is attempting to assassinate the usurper King." Prince Oberyn challenged them.
"It is when you'd think for once instead of joke. If fanatics are trying to murder anyone who sits on the Iron Throne that is not Stannis Baratheon or whoever the assassin was shouting about, we have to deal with this threat before our Prince stakes his claim and exposes himself as a new target to these assassins."
Sam piped in. "And if it turns to actually be Prince Stannis who is considering marrying Princess Arianne, this would mean that Lady Selyse's life is in danger if she isn't dead already."
"I apologize. I meant no offense, Ser Gerold. I concede you raised a valid point." Prince Oberyn looked around to see nothing but worried faces.
"Come on, one can only concentrate and be serious for a certain time. Perhaps we should take a break and send for some refreshments. Is it me or is the air dry in here?" The Dornish Prince wet his tongue.
Jon looked at Prince Oberyn reassuring himself he had made the right decision by inviting the Dornish Prince to this meeting. He was a great asset to the conspiracy and deserved his place here as much or perhaps even more than some others. And if his contributions sometimes were a bit unorthodox, it kept everyone on his toes. Jon hadn't once needed to make an effort to stay focused. He was glad when Ser Arthur spoke up and supported his Dornish friend.
"Prince Oberyn is right. Let us take a little break. Perhaps use the opportunity to take in some fresh air. We can reconvene here in a short while."