After supper that night, Jon, Sam and Gendry withdrew to the library. It was a bit awkward that Loras had watch duty and needed to stay outside with Ser Oswell. A reassuring wink of Loras made Jon feel better about closing the door on his friend. Even more so when he opened the note that Loras had slipped him without anyone else noticing. It mentioned that Rosby would take up his shift early so he could join them hopefully really soon.
"Where is Ghost?" Gendry asked clearly disappointed not to see the direwolf with them.
"He is keeping Dany and her ladies company." Jon answered.
"Guarding her, he means." Sam clarified.
"The attack only happened yesterday." Jon defended himself. "As long as I feel that Ghost is calm, I know that she is safe."
"I understand, Jon. I'll have other opportunities to see Ghost, I am sure. Gods, it feels strange that you are King now."
"In here I am not, Gendry. I am just a friend who is glad that you have finally arrived and I am mere moments away from asking for your assistance once more."
"As long as it is not guarding Arya on a ship for almost a moon." Gendry joked half-heartedly.
"I'm sorry she gave you trouble. I have heard a bit about that."
"Who betrayed her?" Gendry looked offended now.
"She told me herself, Gendry. In between the boasting, I could tell that she was serious and she voluntarily admitted how panicked she had been when she believed her precious sword to be lost forever."
"I could make her as many as she wished." Gendry interjected.
"But it wouldn't be the same." Sam's calm voice interrupted both men. "She lost her very first sword that was a gift from the King. She received a special gift from Jon long before anyone else did. That little sword was her proof of the special friendship that exists between her and Jon."
"Then I am doubly glad we were able to retrieve it." Gendry remarked and the three young men fell silent.
"Edric finally returned to Starfall. I expect to receive a scroll to announce his safe arrival any day now. He was sad to miss your arrival but it couldn't be helped."
"I'm sorry that I missed him but not as sorry as one of your cousins will be when she learns that he is no longer in King's Landing." Gendry said quietly and the others concurred.
"I did receive a letter from Robb." Jon ventured and the discussion steered away from the stalemate that was Edric's love life.
Gendry glanced nervously towards Sam not sure how much his friend knew. "Robb is doing so much better." He confirmed neutrally.
"Did you know what Arya wrote?" Jon's entire face lit up now.
"No. Should I steel myself?" Gendry posture however had relaxed again.
"Not at all. It went something like this and I quote. Gendry made Robb laugh so hard that he needed to hold his belly. And on the first day of his visit too " unquote.
"I remember that instance. It was something silly that we laughed about. As I recall it, we were mimicking Princess Catelyn. She has a thing with titles and a certain way to pronounce them. If you start paying attention to it, it gets really difficult to keep your composure in her company."
"No wonder she witnessed Robb's good mood so often. She caused it herself." Jon smiled and felt better than he had since the attack.
"How have you been, Sam?" Gendry changed the subject. "It's been some time since your last letter and that was rather short."
"Busy," Sam sighed but immediately amended his tone after a furtive glance at Jon. "But loving every moment of it. I am part of the driving force that is defining the future of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Now that sounds important. No wonder you look exhausted. You have lost more weight as well."
Gendry saw Jon studying Sam with a small frown and wondered if he had stumbled on a delicate issue. When Sam just smiled and offered no reply he quick grasped the opportunity to give the conversation another direction. "I haven't seen a forge in more than a moon. Is there one between the Walls of the Red Keep or do I have to pay Tobho Mott in the Street of Steel a visit when I get severe withdrawal symptoms?"
Jon looked at Sam who immediately reacted. "There was a small forge here in order to make minor repairs on site. We hired some builders and had them expand it. It is conveniently located near the north wall. Behind that wall there is a small beach that leads to Blackwater Bay. The dragons can easily reach over the wall and help us melt the steel."
"Then I can get started with our tests for real?" Gendry eyed them both eagerly.
Jon and Sam smiled at the childish delight in Gendry's demeanour. Sam was quick to answer. "Yes, but we must keep it under wraps. I wrote to you we have a detailed recipe now. A batch takes more than twenty-two days plus the time necessary to cool it one last time. When you start planning and organizing, keep in mind is that we need a few drops of fresh blood from Jon on day one. Dragonfire on days one, eight and fifteen. The rest of the ingredients are things we have readily available,namely regular steel, dragonglass and normal fire."
Gendry looked at Sam with big eyes. "And you know the exact proportions of dragonglass to add and which quality of steel to use?"
"Yes to the first, we will have to experiment with the second." Jon chimed in. "But spare no expenses and use the best quality of steel you can find."
Gendry let them explain in detail why it took so long to finish a single batch. The only thing that Gendry called into question was the fact that they needed to let the metal rest an entire sennight before melting it again. But in the end they agreed to strictly adhere to the recipe."
"I propose to start a new batch every sennight. That way we'll need a dragon every seventh day and after the first sennight, they can melt more than one batch."
"If we do it that way, Jon will need to give up a few drops of fresh blood once a week as well." Sam remarked.
"I don't mind." Jon was quick to agree. "Once we can compare the first few batches, I want you to make Valyrian Steel armour for me from the best one. You have the drawing of my father's armour. I want the red rubies I received as a gift from House Celtigar on the exact same spots. Once I close my visor, people who knew Prince Rhaegar shouldn't be able to tell the difference between me and my late father."
"I am getting excited and can't wait to start." Gendry's enthusiasm was contagious.
Jon reached for the pitcher of ale that had remained untouched. "A toast. To our reunion and to a successful, joint endeavour!"
"Only if I can get a cup as well." Loras had entered the room and stood awkwardly near the closed door.
Sam was quick to fill a fourth cup. The four friends stayed together joking and reminiscing until the pitcher was empty and Jon sheepishly asked permission to join his wife.
"Damn, we forgot to drink to future little Targaryen Princes and Princesses." Gendry exclaimed.
"Well, we'll be sure to that that next time." Sam smiled as they watched Jon slip out of the room.
Gendry shook his head. "Did we just tease a King without any sense of decorum?"
"We teased our friend, Gendry. There was no King in this room for most of our conversation." Sam was quick to reassure him.
Loras shook his head. "Yeah, try telling that to those poor guards who stand watch outside the entire time."
Gendry quickly spoke up. "It is time that I tried to find my way back to that gigantic bed they have me sleeping in. The Gods know I how will ever recall the way."
"You're located in the North Wing, third floor. They marked your door with your sigil, a black stag on a yellow shield. Come on, I'll join you part of the way until I am sure you can find the rest of it on your own." Sam was quick to help out.
"Thanks, Sam." Gendry got up and couldn't help picturing the tiny cot on which he had been sleeping only a year ago. The cot had been so short that he had needed to fold his knees to be able to fit into it. It had stood in a tiny room next to two similar cots for the other apprentices. The entire room had hardly been larger than the space his current bed took up now. A year ago, when he crawled out of that tiny bed, stiff and sore to answer the call of nature outside, he had always looked up at the big stronghold on top of Aegon's Hill whose pale red stone walls glowed in the morning light and he had imagined how the legendary dragonriders of old lived there.
What a difference a year made. Now he knew that those legendary Kings he had heard tales of had been men of flesh and blood with their own worries and daily routines. They needed to eat, sleep and shit the same as other human beings. And Gendry, the poor apprentice of Tobho Mott on the Street of Steel did not only reside in that at one time so unattainable palace, he happened to be a distant relation to a King and dragonrider that one day would be read about in history books. Young blacksmith apprentices would gather in the square to hear someone read the stories out loud and would dream King Aegon and his court up to be bigger than life. Perhaps somebody might read his name in a book one day: Lord Gendry of House Baratheon, the famous Baratheon who was the first one to successfully forge Valyrian Steel on Westerosi soil.
***
The next morning, Jon was halfway through his daily training session when Arya burst onto the scene. Rosby stopped their bout as soon as Jon gestured him to. "My King?"
"Hold there for a moment, Rosby." Jon said turning away from him. "Let her through, Ser Oswell. She won't stop giving you trouble until you let her approach me."
The moment Ser Oswell stepped aside, Arya almost fell over. She had been trying to push him aside when he hadn't let her pass upon her hastily uttered order to let her through. She quickly recovered her equilibrium and ran to Jon.
"Will you spar with me, Jon? My teacher is nowhere to be found and Gendry is no longer my friend. All I have left is you."
Jon put his arms around her when he saw how upset she was. "Hey, Arya, you can't just interrupt my training like this. How about I finish my exercises first while you watch? When I am done, I will spar with you."
He felt the tension leave her body before she released him. "You promise?"
"Of course. And then you can boast to Gendry how you sparred with me. I am sure he will be jealous. He wrote me more than once that he wanted to test his hammer against my sword."
"If I ever see him again." She pouted. "He and Lady Shireen are breaking their fast together. They entered the morning room together, filled their plates and told us they were going to eat outside."
"I'm sure he bid you a good morning before he left. You are his friend after all."
"Yeah, but he only looked at me briefly, smiled and then left the room with her." Arya complained emphasizing the word ' her'.
Jon looked into her eyes. "Arya, weren't you glad to see me yesterday?"
Arya bumped her fist against his arm. "Of course I was, stupid. I counted the days until we met again. It has been moons."
Rosby stepped closer staring angrily at Princess Arya. Jon gestured him to stay back. Arya looked up at Rosby unaware of her faux pas. "What?"
Jon put a calming hand on her shoulder. "You just insulted your King, Arya. Tell him you didn't intend to. And in public, I advise you to use an honorific when you refer to me."
"Of course I didn't mean it." Arya had turned to face Rosby. "It was just a matter of, of, well I don't know. Jon is my best friend in the entire realm. I am learning how to wield my sword so I can swear it to him, uh I mean to his Grace, the King of the Seven Kingdoms."
Jon exchanged amused glances with his two Kingsguards over Arya's head.
"In public, you better address your cousin by his title, Princess." Rosby said gently. "In private, I would strongly suggest 'Jon' the better option to 'stupid'."
Arya looked at him with her big eyes and when she recognised the twinkle in his eyes she smiled. "Sorry, not used to being at Court yet. Please don't tell my mother?"
"On my honour as a future Kingsguard." Rosby answered solemnly. Then he turned to his King. "Your Grace, ready to fight with two swords now?"
Arya looked on with big eyes as Jon went through his motions. When they finally called the session to an end she remarked. "You have gotten even better, King Jon." She winked when he arched a brow at that appellation.
"Ready to take your King on?" He challenged her and they sparred for a short while. Only the argument that she shouldn't tire herself overly much before her first lesson with her new teacher convinced her to end their sparring session. Jon washed his face and hands and handed her the towel after he was done. His Kingsguard were waiting for them on the opposite of the courtyard and he led her to a bench so he could speak quietly to her out of earshot.
"You've improved since our last spar, dear cousin. Heed your teacher and you'll become a good swordfighter."
"I will. I'll practice every spare moment I am allowed." She smiled from ear to ear, happy with his praise.
Jon returned the smile but then his face turned serious again and he studied her for a moment. "Arya, you told me that you counted the days until we saw each other again. Gendry had never seen his cousin before yesterday. I am sure he was counting the days as well. She is his closest kin. He doesn't have parents or any other close kin. Shireen is all he has. He is her first cousin and you are still his friend. You should be glad for him. You have sisters, brothers, the best cousin in the realm," he tapped his chest, "and many other friends. Why can't he have one cousin on top of being your friend?"
Arya seemed to mull this over. "Will he want to eat outside with me one day?"
"Why don't you ask to join them next time? If you ask in a nice way, I am sure Gendry will say yes and Shireen would love to meet a friend of her cousin. She has been lonely here at court. Her parents are in the Stormlands and don't love her as much as yours love you. I am sure she will welcome another friend."
"Your Grace, forgive me for interrupting but you should get out of these sweaty clothes before you cool down entirely." Ser Oswell intervened. "And Ser Gerold will be waiting in your study for the daily briefing."
"Your right. Let's go inside." He smiled encouragingly at Arya and got up from the stone bench. He would tell her about the possibility that half-brothers or half-sisters of Gendry might be alive on another occasion. He would have to tell her about poor Edric Storm as well.
***
A few days later
"Third time lucky I guess, your Grace." Tyrion sat before his desk and had just waved away Jon's apology for having postponed their audience a second time on the day that the Queen had been attacked. He was happy to note that the King had chosen to see him without his Hand present. Not that Tyrion didn't like Lord Seaworth. It was just that this way they could talk without courtesies and protocol making everything more formal.
Jon nodded. "Thank you for your understanding, Lord Lannister."
"Tyrion, please your Grace, call me Tyrion behind closed doors." He was relieved to see the young King smile genuinely at his bold proposal.
"Only if you omit my title as well. I go by Jon or Aegon among friends behind closed doors."
Tyrion bowed his head in acknowledgement of the veiled compliment. Since Willas and Myrcella referred to the young King as Jon amongst themselves, he decided to do the same. "Then shall we get straight to the point, Jon? I am sure you know why I asked for an audience."
"I do. That is exactly the reason why I chose to address you without my Hand present. Ser Davos is your staunchest advocate. He doesn't agree with my reluctance to confirm your appointment."
Tyrion's had trouble keeping his face neutral. This was a disappointing beginning. Apparently the young King had decided against him. "May I ask you to explain to me what exactly makes you so hesitant to grant me the position when you kept it open all this time?"
"It is not your competence that is in doubt, Tyrion. Prince Stark, Eddard Stark to be precise, told me how quick you were to find the well-hidden fraud of Lord Baelish. After further inquiry and meeting you personally, I am aware that you are the best candidate for the job and that is my Hand's strongest argument in your favour. One of the goals I set myself as I ascended the throne was to grant positions based on merit and abilities as much as possible. And as you stated, we are in dire need of a Master of Coin. For now, every member of the small council is making an effort to help keep the books up to date. It is not a good solution and nobody likes it when it is his turn. The Queen and I are included in these rotations and we, or rather I will speak for myself when I declare that I am always glad that it is time to hand them over to the next victim."
Tyrion got more puzzled with every word the King uttered. When the young man paused, he couldn't help but blurt out. "That is no explanation as to why not. Quite the opposite actually, your Grace, uh Jon."
"I apologize for the longwinded explanation. I was getting there. The reason I am still on the fence has to do with politics. You see, not so long ago, House Lannister lost its honour when it was revealed that they had cuckolded the Baratheon King for more than a decade. The Lannisters were expected to be punished severely and presumed to lose all their power and influence. However, except for Cersei Lannister's exile and Jaime Lannister being sentenced to the Wall, your house has not suffered. It has retained the position of Lord Paramount of the West and the ownership of Casterly Rock with all its farmlands and the rights to exploit the gold mines. Since I took the throne, your nephew has been legitimized as a trueborn Lord of House Lannister and is recognised as the next heir to Casterly Rock. Despite the circumstances of his birth, he will be named the next Lord Paramount. Your niece has recently married one of the most eligible bachelors in the realm."
Tyrion watched the young King take a deep breath but this time he had learned his lesson and kept silent expecting that there was more to come. He picked up his cup and King Aegon followed suit. Tyrion had wisely opted for water when the King had offered refreshments upon his entrance to this study. The King had forgone the wine as well and had also chosen to let a young squire fill his cup with water before he ordered the two boys from the room. The very moment Tyrion put his cup back on the desk, King Aegon continued his reasoning.
"Lord Varys informed me that there are countless rumours floating around started by disgruntled nobles that are questioning why a Targaryen King is so favourably inclined towards House Lannister. You see, they have been expecting your appointment as Master of Coin ever since you arrived in the capital and are not happy about it. They have been coming up with the vilest hypothesises. I won't repeat them all to you. One of the milder ones is that I took Lady Myrcella's maidenhead and that House Tyrell will be raising a Targaryen bastard."
"And you bow to rumours, Jon? That does not sound like the young King I have come to admire and who just declared to have the ambition to grant positions based on merit."
The young King shook his head. "It is not that simple, Tyrion. I wish it were. You see I think I can still get away with bestowing one more favour on House Lannister. We will quell the rumours. I am not sure however that I can get away with two."
Tyrion digested this new given. He racked his brain and quickly came up with the obvious. He had received several letters from his brother at Castle Black. He wrote of Prince Rhaegar's son in the most respectful terms proclaiming him not only a great swordsman even if that alone was enough to earn his brother's respect, but he had also described the young man as someone wise for his age. Jaime had relayed to Tyrion how he had been forgiven for slaying King Aerys. He mentioned that the Targaryen Prince was even looking past the attempted murder of Brandon Stark to some degree. He had also described at length how down to earth the then future King had behaved with him and how at ease he was amongst the crudest members of the Free Folk and the simple foot soldiers. And all of that praise had been written before his brother had heard about the legitimisation of his children born of incest and the decisions that the Targaryen King had made in regards to their future. Now it seemed that this respect was mutual. He blurted out. "You want to pardon Jaime?"
The young man in front of him looked sheepish when he replied. "Your brother is already distinguishing himself at Castle Black. He is using his military prowess to plan for the coming war against the dead. He will command a large part of our forces. If our side survives, I could proclaim Jaime Lannister a war hero. A royal pardon would not be such a long stretch from there. I might even fulfil your brother's wish and let him swear his sword to me again and reinstate him as a member of the royal guard. I have not decided yet, but I would prefer to keep my options open. Luckily, we have been able to keep the incident involving my young cousin at Winterfell under wraps or general opinion would declare me insane. I can't see a good solution to our predicament, Tyrion. If not for all I have mentioned, I would very much like to grant you a seat on my small council and have you keep those troublesome books. You are the most qualified candidate and you were right when you stated during dinner that we have the potential to become friends."
Tyrion nodded and pondered the issue. "The way I see it, you have several options." He smiled when he saw the young King's expression lighten.
"You do?"
"If you are serious about your statement that you can defend granting one more appointment to House Lannister why not do so now? Let me take those books of your hands. I will swear to serve you faithfully. The war against the dead, as far as I could surmise from my brother's missives will keep him beyond the Wall for some time still, isn't that so?" He saw the understanding dawn on the face of the young man before him.
"Yes, our last estimates are that it will take several moons perhaps even a full year before the enemy will engage us."
"Either you proclaim from the start that I am only appointed on a temporary basis or you stay silent on the matter. Anyhow, I vow to step down should my brother survive and it becomes apparent that my position as a member of your small council hinders my brother's pardon. Chances are that the people won't care by then. Either way, you win."
Jon nodded. "I'll confer with Davos and Sam and I'll let you know. Uncle Benjen will be grateful when the matter is resolved though."
"Prince Benjen of House Stark? As far as I heard, he refused when being asked to be added to the rotation schedule to keep the books by quoting that he was no member of the small council yet."
"You are well informed, Tyrion. But your source with the loose lips didn't tell you all. My uncle's exact words were, and I quote I am no member of the small council yet. Ned still has that honour, until then, best of luck. Ask me anything else and I'll do it gladly. end of quote." A naughty expression appeared on the young King's features.
"Oh dear," Tyrion understood immediately, "I presume he overreached?"
"Indeed. Davos has taken him up on his word and has gone to some trouble to find other tasks that the others abhor and has assigned these to Uncle Benjen. My uncle has already remarked several times that if my Hand keeps being so creative, he might come to regret his former decision and will help with the cursed books after all."
"Then release the poor man from his suffering. Keeping books is child's play for me. Numbers are my friends. We enjoy spending time in each other's company." Tyrion knew he had convinced the Targaryen King when they exchanged smiles once more.
"I am sure conferring with Sam and Davos will be a mere formality. I'll let you know, Tyrion. In any case, thank you for your loyalty and understanding. If I didn't let on already that I appreciate it, I take the opportunity to do so now."
"Your trust and hopefully future friendship are all the reward I need, my King." Tyrion rose and bowed presuming that their interview had come to an end.
"We are well underway to become friends then, Lord Lannister. I hope to have favourable tidings for you soon. But please, resume your seat. There are still a few things I would like to discuss with you."
Tyrion had no choice but to sit back down. He could at least think of one subject the King wanted to tackle but he had thought that for this at least the young man would have wanted to have the support of his Hand or perhaps the rest of his small council. As predicted, the King came straight to the point and mentioned the reformed taxes on the gold mines.
"Davos mentioned you have not officially agreed to the new decree we drafted on the taxes that House Lannister will need to pay in future in return for the rights of keeping the gold mines open. Are you intending on contesting them?"
"I just wanted to hear how you intend to enforce them, your Grace. How will you know that the yield we put in our reports is accurate? In theory it sounds like a fair system, paying a percentage on the profit so that in meagre years we pay less. But such a system is easily taken advantage of."
"Spoken as a true Master of Coin already. You raise a fair point. As a King I have of course many sources at my disposal to gather intelligence and surprise inspections will occur from time to time. Now that I know that you agree in principle, let us finalize the details of this matter with my Hand and Samwell Tarly present. Any suggestions you have are welcome of course."
Tyrion nodded and picked up his cup again making it clear to the King that no suggestion would be forthcoming today.
Jon nodded when he realised this. "Now to change the subject, have you considered marrying, Tyrion? My informants tell me you were courting Lady Roslin a while ago but no longer?"
Tyrion raised one eyebrow hoping the gesture merely showed his mild surprise and didn't betray how much the fact that the King raised this particular topic had unsettled him for a moment. Of all the topics he had been prepared to discuss and show off his cleverness with, he hadn't expected this one. He took a calming breath. "I considered offering for her at one time when the financial situation of House Lannister was still uncertain. You have thorough informants it would seem, your Grace. The tax reform was my first clue. Somehow you seem to know already about our fortune reversal and are aware that we discovered a new vain in our formerly faltering goldmines?"
When Jon nodded, Tyrion waved away the obvious apology that the slightly embarrassed young man seemed to have on the tip of his tongue and continued his explanation. "Seeing that I didn't need the generous dowry that Lord Frey offered any longer and that the Lady was visibly infatuated with another, I uh I didn't want to impose myself upon an unwilling female. To be completely honest, the realisation that I am ten years older and a dwarf might have had something to do with me getting cold feet as well. What happened to young Corbray, your Grace? I withdrew my attentions partly because even a blind man could see that she was infatuated with him."
"He is only a younger son." Jon sighed. "I doubt her father will pay him her weight in gold. I'm truly sorry if I touched a sore point. Would you please drop the 'your Grace' bit again please?"
Tyrion nodded reluctantly but kept silent and watched the young man struggle to formulate his next sentence.
"Are you implying that now that House Lannister is solvent again, you prefer to stay celibate? That amazes me, if I am being truthful."
"Because of my reputation of drinking and whoring?" Tyrion didn't beat about the bush as the young man before him did.
Jon had the decency to look embarrassed. "I wouldn't put it so crudely but abstinence is not what I expected of you. I'm sorry if I offended you. Aside from your wishes, a man in your position must have had offers from several houses with eligible daughters."
"And there are a lot of Freys. There I said it before you could make a joke about it. I hope you are asking all these questions because as a happily married man you want to spread the joy to others and not because there is a political motive behind your interrogation, your Grace?" Tyrion let the sarcasm drip from his tone now.
Jon shook his head and held up his hand as a silent apology. "I was merely attempting to sketch the situation as a favour to the Queen. She is dealing with a distraught Lady-In-Waiting. Lady Roslin has been courted by several Lords and her half-brother Lord Stevron is uh indecisive shall we say. You being the highest born suitor had his preference but since you withdrew, he is considering the second most important one. That happens to be an older Lord from the Stormlands, twice widowed and rumoured to be a brute. Should she refuse, she will be sent back to her father to marry one of her uncles or cousins whichever Frey bachelor her father sees first the moment she sets foot in the Twins again."
Tyrion shuffled in his seat. Once more the young man in front of him had surprised him, this time with his open and honest reaction. This wouldn't mean he would just do the young King's bidding though. "And you thought marrying her by force to an imp would be less cruel? I won't have my bride crying all the way to the altar, your Grace. Unless my King gives me no choice and orders me to comply. Is that the case?"
"No." Jon sighed. "Tyrion, I was just trying to determine your reasons for withdrawing your attentions to the Lady. As far as I can tell you liked her at one time. She speaks fondly of you even though she didn't think of you as a future husband. What if you gave her the opportunity to get to know you better? Give the both of you a chance to find out whether she can see past your appearance and discover the kind, witty, intelligent man that you are. This talk is as far as my meddling will go, I promise."
Tyrion still was not completely sold on the young man's apparent noble intentions. "And you have no ulterior political motive? Like dangling the position of Lord Paramount of the West before Walder Frey's ambitious, ugly nose? Make him think that his blood will rule the Westerlands only to throw into his face the moment that his grandson is born that I signed a decree that gives these rights to Lord Tommen of House Lannister recognising his claim as superior to my children's and that I am merely a regent who will step down the moment that my nephew, the son of my older brother comes of age?"
Jon startled. "You make it sound so devious. I admit that I would enjoy seeing House Frey being taken down a notch. If only you knew the vile details of Walder Frey's plot to take down both House Stark and House Targaryen. It is true that it would give me great pleasure to thwart his ambitions. I won't lie and tell you differently. But the main reason for bringing this up is because I promised Daenerys that I would look into the matter. Lady Roslin is a sweet Lady and the Queen wishes her well. If you prefer, I can arrange for you to speak to the Queen directly?"
"That won't be necessary, Jon. Let me sleep on this. To avoid misunderstandings, whatever I decide to do is separate from what we discussed earlier?"
"Of course. That decision was based on merit." Jon gave him a small smile, glad that the man had stopped calling him by his title again. "I think I went about this meeting the wrong way. At least for as far as the order of bringing up topics is concerned. I am usually better at this. I should have tackled this delicate rather personal topic last. Are you still willing to do me a political favour after all this?"
"That depends, Jon. Do I need to compromise the values of my house or my personal freedom for this favour?"
Jon was relieved to see that Tyrion accompanied his sarcastic words with a small smile. "No, nothing like that, unless you prefer Stannis Baratheon over me."
Tyrion sat up straighter. "I didn't deign to reply to his demand to bend the knee."
"I want you to send him a reply." Jon leaned forward now. "How would you feel about answering him that it is too dangerous for House Lannister to openly support his claim for now? Explain that you are hanging on to your position by a thread, but that you will think of a way to stall and not call your banners when the Targaryen pretender asks you to. Promise him that you will bend the knee to him gladly when he takes his rightful throne. Of course all of this would be kept strictly between us for now."
Tyrion frowned. "That is asking me to trust you not to use that against me later. To someone not privy to this conversation, I could be perceived as a traitor to the Crown."
"That is correct. I am asking you to trust me. The only assurance I can give you is that my Hand, my Queen, Prince Oberyn and Lord Varys will be in the know. As soon as you give your consent to participate in this scheme, a few of us will meet and draft the reply together."
"As soon as I agree to write this letter to Lord Stannis, not to the other things." Tyrion asked again to be sure.
Jon sighed. "All issues we discussed are independent of one another, Tyrion. I am half Stark, partly raised by one. My Targaryen father was also an honourable man I have been told. If we intend to work together, you will have to start trusting my word. I thought we were on the verge of becoming friends?"
"We are, your Grace, uh Jon. This is just my analytical mind that always searches for vulnerabilities in every plot uh plan. Your word is good enough for me. Of course it is. And now that I am coming back to my senses, allow me to apologize. My only excuse is that all that talk of possibly marrying Lady Roslin had me off balance for a while. I owe you several debts. Or better, my house owes yours several debts. And a Lannister always pays them. I'll agree to send the reply to Stannis and what is more, if it doesn't displease the Lady and it pleases you and the Queen, then I am prepared to offer for Lady Roslin's hand."
"We agreed that you and Lady Roslin could try and find some common ground first. I would prefer to leave that particular issue unresolved for now."
"Thank you, Jon." Tyrion hesitated to say more. But the young man apparently was a keen study of moods.
"You have another question. Some other doubt or flaw in a scheme to warn me about?"
"No, it is just, uh, you mentioned a possible pardon for my brother but stayed silent on the fate of my sister. We never had much of a relationship and Cersei refuses to write to me. But you see, she stopped writing to her children after we announced Myrcella's betrothal to her by letter. Tommen and Myrcella, they worry about her. Do you happen to know how she is doing?"
Jon pursed his lips. "She is not the model hostage. That is for sure. I will let you read the latest report that I received from Lady Maege of House Mormont. They send me one every moon. You'll receive a copy of it tomorrow."
"Thank you, Jon. One day I hope we can play a game of cyvasse together." Tyrion bowed his head, this time sure that his audience was over. The moment he stepped into the hallway, a feeling of triumph came over him despite himself. Just imagine, Tyrion the imp, the one his own father gave no larger responsibility than overseeing the sewer system of Casterly Rock would be officially appointed to the small council of the new Targaryen regime and handle the Crown's finances. And perhaps he would marry a kind bride after all. More importantly, Jaime most likely would be allowed to come south again, his honour fully restored. That was something he hadn't seen coming. Neither did he see the young boy that ran him over while he was still in the midst of congratulating himself.
"Ouch, boy. Watch where you are going." He rubbed the spot on his head where they had collided.
He was surprised when the perpetrator offered him his hand to pull him up. "Sorry, Lord Tyrion, I mean Lord Lannister. I was in a hurry and didn't pay attention to where I was going. I wanted to tell Jon what Gendry has m-, never mind. Is Jon in there?"
"King Aegon is in his study, yes." Tyron concealed his mirth when he realised that he had been floored by Princess Arya. He put on a formal expression wanting to give her a little payback. "Have you been granted a private audience with his Grace so soon? I had to wait several days for mine, you see."
"You mean his White Cloaks won't let me in?" She asked disbelievingly.
"Ser Arthur, the Sword of the Morning and Rosby have their orders, Princess." Tyrion kept a straight face.
"He'll see me. I am his best friend and first cousin. And I come bearing really important news." Her tone was a little less confident though.
Tyrion raised his eyebrow. "You might need more than words and puppy eyes to persuade his Cerberuses. Did you bring coin or wine?"
Ser Arthur standing further back behind Arya looked over her head into Tyrion's eyes and shook his head in an admonishing fashion. Tyrion detected the mirth shining in the knight's eyes though when the Kingsguard spoke up. "Lord Tyrion, please clear the hallway. No trespassing by unauthorised persons. Or do I need to draw Dawn?"
"Oh can I see, Ser?" Arya turned around ignoring Tyrion Lannister and faced Ser Arthur. "Is it really milk white and as light as Valyrian Steel?"
Ser Arthur drew his sword out of his scabbard but did not release its pommel. He eyed the corridor and gestured to Rosby to stay vigilant. Arya took her time examining the rare sword.
"Now Princess, if you will wait here a moment, if you please?" He sheathed Dawn and knocked twice on the closed door. He opened it slightly and spoke loudly. "Your Grace? Princess Arya of House Stark requests an audience. She has a pressing matter of state to discuss and not an instant to lose. She hurried here not minding peril or obstacles even slaying an imp in the process. I strongly urge that you drop whatever you are doing and grant her an audience."
"Jon!" Not waiting any longer Arya pushed the door further open. "Jon, can I see you?"
"If your eyes are still working, I believe that you should be seeing me already." He rose from his chair and gestured to Ser Arthur to close the door. "Now what has Gendry been doing? You should lower your voice when you talk about state secrets, my favourite cousin." But he smiled when she hugged him as soon as he had circled his desk. "How about I take my coat and we visit the forge together?"
***
The next few days, many decisions were made. Prince Eddard Stark formally handed his seat on the small council over to his younger brother. He was set to travel with his wife to Riverrun in a few days' time to grant Princess Catelyn the opportunity to be with her father during his last sennights before he inevitably succumbed to his illness. Prince Benjen of House Stark and Lord Tyrion of House Lannister appointments to the small council were formally announced before the Court effective immediately.
The next announcement was the appointment of Princess Sansa of House Stark, Lady Ilsa of House Ruthermont and Lady Margaery of House Tyrell as Ladies-in-Waiting to Queen Daenerys. With these appointments the Queen considered her entourage complete. During that same court session, Rayford Rosby and Edwyd Fossoway were knighted by the King and Ser Gerold formally cloaked Ser Rayford with the White Cloak of the Kingsguard and Ser Edwyd with the Black and Red one of the Dragonguard. Ser Jorah was promoted to Commander of the Dragonguard. Mention was made that there were still several open positions and new candidates were welcome to come forward. Ser Gerold would hold auditions in seven days' time.
Interlude 43: Destiny
Bran closed his eyes and felt Ghost entering the confines of the Godswood. He opened his eyes again and with a short glance ordered Summer to stay put. "They will come to us." He whispered mostly to himself. He knew he had avoided his cousin for as long has he could afford. He had dreaded this conversation and had put it off until the last moment. Now there was no avoiding it anymore. His trunk was packed. Lord Reed had their escort all sorted out. Tomorrow they would travel to the Neck and from there Bran would set out with an armed escort and Meera Reed to the Wall and beyond. A whine made him look up. 'You are coming as well, Summer.' He sent the thought to his faithful companion.
These last few sennights at the Red Keep he had written more than thirty short letters to his mother, falsifying the dates systematically moving a fortnight further into the future with each message. That way he could conceal for a long period of time his exact whereabouts. He planned to write a few more until he disappeared behind the Wall. Nothing was certain after that. He had seen several visions and knew part of what was to happen to him. And now it was time to tell his cousin.
The prophesized saviour was the only one that he was going to reveal the entire truth to. He knew that Lord Reed suspected a great deal but not the full extent of it. The young King would take it hard and would need time to come to terms with it all. That was one of the reasons why Bran had put it off as long as possible. The days of blissful ignorance for his cousin were coming to an end. These days, Bran often pondered the meaning of life and the justice of it all. Why was he the chosen one? Why was Jon burdened with such a dangerous role? Smallfolk who lived and died their lives on a small stretch of land with just enough food and clothing to get by were much better off than the young King and his younger cousin. But the Gods had decided and if he dared to refuse or Jon turned his back on his destiny, the entire realm was doomed and even the most insignificant servant would no longer have the chance to get up and complain to all and sundry about the poor cards he had been dealt in life.
Summer's ears peaked up. Soon after, Ghost and his human stood before Bran's feet.
"Hello Bran. Ghost and I caught you daydreaming. Is now all right to talk?"
Bran nodded and watched Jon unstrap his sword belt and lay Blackfyre between them. "The direwolves can go and play near the entrance. That way they will still be able to alert us if someone is approaching."
Jon nodded and looked at Ghost. Both wolves took off in a flash.
"You will need to forge another one, identical to this one." Bran proclaimed without lifting his eyes from the spot where the Valyrian sword lay safely in its scabbard."
"For me to wield?"
"Yes. Carry two when you face him. Make sure Gendry uses his best batch to forge it."
"I will, Bran. Howland Reed told me you had more advice and would explain some things to me as well?"
"Yes." Bran felt old when he looked at his cousin. His mind felt at least a lifetime older than the young man before him. Never mind the fact that he himself only counted eleven namedays. The knowledge the Gods had forced on him made him wiser than Maester Aemon at the Wall had been before he passed away. At the very least he was more knowledgeable about the things that mattered in regards to the fight to come.
Before we start to discuss the Great War, I need to warn you about the Rebellion in the South. Stannis Baratheon and Euron Greyjoy are setting up a trap. Don't fall for it. They will carry a white flag but will not honour it. Take precautions, Jon. And don't hesitate to use trickery yourself if necessary. Even if you are confident that you have the numbers, they will go for your weak spot. Your enemy will use dark magic against you. Focus your mind and keep your direwolf and dragons close. Combine your strength with theirs."
"How do I do that? Do you know what kind of magic they will use?" Jon asked a bit bewildered.
"I told you all I know, Jon. I would not withhold information on purpose. I am on your side." Bran promised solemnly.
"I know that. I trust no one more than you, Bran. Can you tell me more?" Jon asked a bit calmer now.
"You know more than I do about your own abilities, Jon. You have been looking for ways to embrace your magic while fighting for some time now." Bran said in a flat tone.
"You mean, the trance I experience? Is that my magic, that feeling of time slowing down, of righteousness that comes over me? The fact that I see every move of my opponent more clearly and all doubts leave me because I know that my next move is exactly the right one?" Jon was getting more animated again.
"Like I said, you know more about it than I do. And that is how it should be." Bran confirmed quietly.
Jon looked a little disappointed at that statement. "Lord Reed told me you would be able to advise me."
Bran nodded thoughtfully. "This is the advice I can give you. Make sure you avoid as much bloodshed as possible in your southern war. Forget honour if trickery can get you better results. All blood that flows into the earth can be used by the Great Other to draw energy and enhance his strength."
"The Great Other?"
"That is how the Gods call the most powerful Other or White Walker. I believe Samwell Tarly came up with the term Night King. Old Nan spoke of the Others. Well their leader is the Great Other. As I understand it, the awaking of the Night King was actually the moment that a deity allied himself with the creature you call the Night King. That is why this White Walker leads the other ones."
Jon frowned deep in thought. After a while he remarked. "So we must avoid blood flowing into the earth. I suppose you mean that literally. Should we then go about burning our enemies to ashes or drowning them?"
"Burning is best if the fire is so hot that it only leaves ashes behind. Drowning is not fool proof. The body can be torn apart by large predators, sharks or whales and the spilled blood can still penetrate the earth beneath the sea."
Jon swallowed but nodded. Burning people by dragonfire until only ashes remained, not something he looked forward to do.
Bran heard the conflict in his cousin's tone. "You did well so far, Jon. You have been crowned peacefully. I have had visions that showed me possible futures where at least half of the population of Westeros was wiped out before a righteous leader was crowned after Robert Baratheon's demise. The Gods are hopeful."
Jon did not dwell on the fact that that the way Bran phrased his words so carefully, implied that there had been outcomes possible with someone else on the throne. He focussed on what was pertinent in the reality they lived now. "Even if Howland, I mean Lord Reed stopped seeing the future?"
"That is partly due to the Great Other. In this reality he is also being more patient and playing the game well. For now, you balance each other out and nobody, not even the Gods can predict what will happen. That is why we must raise our effort still. Ever since the Gods started to take a more active part, the stakes have been raised on both sides of the conflict."
Jon stared at Bran for a while. "That is the reason you want to learn from the Children of the Forest?"
"I don't want to. I have to." Bran corrected his older cousin. For once his voice sounded more like his younger self. "I need to develop a third eye, Jon. To do that I will need to develop my magic. And I will have to give myself over to a power that is as ancient as it is unpredictable. I can't promise you that I will still be Brandon Stark after I have done that. I can't even be sure that my body will be able to survive south of the Wall after my transformation. It is very much possible that I will need a certain magic to keep on living. Magic that can only exist beyond the Wall. The only thing I know for sure is that I will lose my eyesight. I will be able to see the past, the present and if we grow more powerful than the Great Other, the future again as well. I will be able to see and witness places in all corners of the universe, known to us and beyond. But I will never see them as a normal human being again. I will always have to see it all with my mind, with my third eye, so to speak."
"And there is no other way, Bran? Are you certain you are not misinterpreting a vision or mistaking a dream, a nightmare for a vision?" Jon urged him, his voice betraying how desperately he wished for his cousin to have it wrong.
Bran looked at his cousin who was a big blur in front of him. "It has already started, Jon. My eyesight is growing poorer each day. Soon I will need a guide to prevent myself from bumping into objects. I've seen myself ride Summer on my journey north. I shall borrow his eyes often. I am a powerful warg, Jon. I can borrow eyes of any animal I see fit."
"Can you tell me how much time we still have before the Great Other is ready to face us?"
Bran sensed immediately that that was one of the most pressing concerns on his cousin's mind. "Time is perceived differently by the Great Other. I would venture that he has tremendous patience but that is not the right way of presenting this. On one occasion, he drew me into his mind and I experienced that time did not exist in this magical bubble that he created and hides in for now. In there, his wights are frozen in time and do not deteriorate further. He will make a move when he believes he is ready or when he can no longer draw enough power to sustain his magical hideaway. The Children of the Forest warned me that he could be ready within ten to twelve moons and they repeat their summons to come north each night in my dreams. I need to be trained and that takes time."
"Ten to twelve moons," Jon repeated the words as if they were a gift. And Bran gave him a small apologetic smile while shrugging his shoulders as if to say that Jon's guess was as good as his. Jon sighed. "If the Great Other was able to draw you into his mind, will you be able to do the same if you grow stronger than him?"
Bran nodded and analysed Jon's tone closely. He appreciated the fact that his cousin was still able to think about this in a calm and logical manner even though he could clearly hear how rattled the young man before him was. "That is a possibility. We hope that somehow I can distract him in his ultimate fight against you. But much needs to happen before you can get to him in the first place. He will have an army of at least a hundred thousand wights and magical creatures and will keep throwing them at you. You will need to find a way to eliminate the White Walkers as soon as possible before many of the living perish. Each person that dies fighting is a new recruit unless you can isolate your fallen soldiers from the living and burn them to ashes before one of the Walkers reanimates them."
"Have you seen details of the battle? What weapons we use, traps, tricks, anything useful?"
"I know that Lannister has drawings of most of the tactics I have seen. He designed several war machines with dragonglass. Upgrade them with Valyrian Steel if you have the opportunity. I'll send you drawings if I think I see something nobody has come up with yet. Listen to Lannister's strategies. You'll receive a long letter soon."
"I can't imagine sending southern armies to the Wall in great numbers will help us. Many will perish due to the harsh environment alone. Have you any advice to offer on that?"
"You are thinking the right way, Jon. Don't doubt yourself. The goal of uniting the Seven Kingdoms under your rule was to avoid bloodshed. If the Gods had allowed Baratheon's fake heirs without actual King's blood to rule, an era of infighting would have started and hundreds of thousands would have perished and their blood wood have empowered your enemy. As long as you can keep the peace in the South, use the Free Folk, the armies of the Northern Lords and only your strongest warriors from the other Kingdoms for the Great War. You'll do just fine, Jon. Don't forget you are surrounded by good advisers. Use them."
"I consider you a vital adviser as well, Bran. How will we communicate once you have left? Now that we know that the heart trees can be used by the Night King, that option is out."
"Ghost and Summer have a bond. I hope that it will reach beyond the Wall. We'll exchange thoughts through our direwolves. If that fails, either I will send ravens the traditional way or I'll try to steer an eagle or another bird your way. When in doubt, watch their eyes. You'll sense it is me the moment you make eye contact. Trust in the Gods as well. I pray they will send you visions if my efforts to reach you fail. The Children of the Forest tell me that the Gods have never before been so willing to help the realm as they are now."
Jon nodded and moved closer to his cousin so he could put his arm around the boy's small shoulders. "I wish things were different for you, Bran. I admire greatly how you are so calm about all of this."
Bran leaned into Jon relishing the warmth of human affection perhaps for one of the last times. "For the good of the many, Jon, you know the saying."
"Still, it doesn't make your sacrifice any less admirable. You are a hero, Bran. If we survive the Great War, the realm will learn an edited version of the role you played. And I will leave no stone unturned to find a way to give you your life back."
Bran nodded and stayed still against his cousin's warm body. It was no use arguing about things that were destined to happen. Jon would come to understand this when the time was there. They needed to concentrate on defeating the Great Other first anyway. If not, his survival, his humanity was the least of Jon's problems. All the people in all the Kingdoms and even in all the territories beyond the great seas were doomed if Jon didn't focus all his energy to play his part. Bran would need to do the same. They had no choice really. It was as simple as that.
Bran trusted in his cousin's abilities and perseverance now more than before. This talk had gone better than he had feared. His cousin had stuck to the subject and had quickly grasped the things Bran had only vaguely hinted at. He hadn't asked silly questions that were beside the point like for instance how many children he and Dany would have and what gender they would be. Nor had he asked about the destination of the third dragon egg or other minor matters. For the first time since the Children of the Forest and the Gods had revealed his destiny, Bran had faith that humanity still stood a chance. Together with his cousin, they would bring their best. The Great Other would face the two of them united. And they would use every tool they had. Be it dragons, direwolves, allies, Valyrian Steel or all the tricks and magic they could conjure up. With a bit of luck and help from the Old Gods, the Seven and the Lord of Light who seemed to have set aside their petty rivalry for now, the living would prevail.
"Bran?" Jon interrupted his musings. His cousin waited until Bran opened his eyes and nodded.
"Is there still time for me to fetch Sam? I need to discuss this with him. He has a unique way of looking at things and might think of something. I'd like him to hear the account first hand."
"From me?" Bran's question sounded flat once more.
"Yeah, if you're willing?" Jon was prepared to forego this for Bran's sake. His cousin only had to say the word.
"There is no need. Just tell him that should we survive, he must write a book about the Long Night and send copies to the Citadel, several to the North and one to each Lord Paramount. We need to prevent that the next long winter humanity is as clueless as we would have been without the help of the Gods. Tell him that it is no use sending someone to the Citadel for more books on the Long Night. You will not find anything you haven't found already. Prince Rhaegar brought all still existing written information to Dragonstone and Sam has combed through those books and scrolls already. He and I spoke at length while you were on your honeymoon."
"All right." Jon got up and held out his hand to his young cousin.
Bran looked at it with a blank expression and spoke calmly. "I almost forgot. Be careful, Jon. The Night King knows that the Prince That Was Promised exists once more. He is looking for you. Just as you believe destroying him is the key to winning, he harbours the same belief about you."
While Jon nodded at his younger cousin, Ghost and Summer ran up to them ready to escort their humans safely to the big stone dwelling.
*