The Water Gardens, 307 AC.
Princess Sarella Martell.
Looking at her younger sisters playing in the water reminded Sarella of the days passed when she was doing the same with her older ones. Her heart squeezed inside her chest as she thought it would be the last carefree moment they would have together. For soon Elia would return to Dragons' Rest to learn the ropes of being the next Lady of Starfall from her future goodaunt.
Edric Dayne's request for her hand had been a surprise for everyone but her. Sarella knew from spending time with him that he was probably the only lord of Dorne not vying for being her consort. Not that she held it against him, though she would have probably been vexed if he wasn't so close in age with her sister. They seemed to get along well, and this, more than their friendship, was the reason why she allowed their union. He was a great man, an even greater warrior, and she would be a fool not to want the Sword of the Morning and Hero of the Dawn to be part of her family.
Her younger sister's betrothal, however, gave her more trouble than she would have liked. Sarella was still unmarried, still bothered by men from Dorne and even the Reach, and she was also pressed by her advisors to choose a husband.
"You should smile sometimes. Being grumpy doesn't suit you well." she heard and sighed as Tyene struggled to sit next to her.
"Being a mother doesn't suit you either. Gods, how does your husband put up with your snide remarks all the time?"
"I'll let you know that I am softer when I am with child. Moreover, he loves being intimate during that time. Makes things more… Intense. For both of us." Tyene quipped.
"I do not need to know that." Sarella sneered, happy that Bronn wasn't there to add even more and cruder details.
"You'll see when your time comes. You'll thank me for that. Unless you don't plan on having children?"
"I will need a husband first." she grimaced.
"Still not decided on who you'll take as consort? I thought you had narrowed down the list!"
"There are three contenders, but…"
"Mayhaps you should do a tourney and wed the winner?"
"Oh please. I will not let the Gods decide for me. With my luck, I will be stuck with Daemon Sand."
"Would it be so bad?"
"I guess it wouldn't but…"
"He isn't on your list. Who is?"
"Arron Qorgoyle, Perros Blackmont, and… Drey Dalt." Sarella ended up with a sigh, knowing what would follow.
"Well, well, well! And here I thought you wouldn't want my leftovers!" Tyene laughed loudly, earning herself a hit on the shoulder. "Careful Sister, Remember! I am with child!"
"I will beat you up, child or not if you keep teasing me."
"Very well. No teasing. May I know your reasoning behind your choice, though?"
"They are second sons. They are set to inherit nothing, or would only do so if their brothers die or marry someone of a better station."
"Like you, you mean."
"Yes, and these firstborn sons are already taught to rule, so they will more likely try to undermine me and any decision I am set to make."
"Fair reasoning, sister. Do you want my opinion?"
"As if you would stop yourself from giving it anyway." Sarella scoffed.
"You know me too well." Tyene chuckled before continuing seriously. "You should marry Drey."
"Why? Because you slept with him?"
"Technically, I slept with all three of them. And I know for a fact that Drey is the best of the three."
"Tyene!" Sarella exclaimed, put out by her sister's nonchalance.
"Can't you just trust me on this?"
"Lying with someone isn't everything in life!"
"I know! I know! Else I would have suggested Podrick Payne as your husband."
"The captain of your guard? Your boy's namesake?" Sarella frowned, confused.
"The very same. He is apparently very talented in pleasing women, according to what my husband says. Bronn wishes our son to be as brave as Pod and as good as he is at satisfying his partners."
"You're talking about the lad who almost fainted when you announced you would name your son after him?" Sarella insisted, incredulous.
"Don't be fooled by his demeanor. I know what he did to the whores of King's Landing. He is a legend and he saved my husband's life. Anyway, I think that you should not discard what I say about Drey just because you think me a whore!"
"I… That's not…"
"I understand. Truly I do. You and I do not see things the same way. You are a scholar and I am the one who poisons our enemies… I made a lot of bad decisions and I might never atone for that -"
"Tyene -"
"But I am your sister and I just want what is best for you. I am telling you. Drey Dalt is the best of the three."
"I don't think you are a whore." Sarella admitted after a long moment of silence.
"Oh, but I am, and that's why I'm married before you!" Tyene said with a wicked wink of her eye.
This made the princess and her sister laugh together, and then they quickly changed the subject when Bronn joined them with his and Tyene's son, Podrick.
Sarella watched with the same amazement as her sister gently played with the child, waddling to their other sisters so they could enjoy a nice moment together. Never in her life would the Princess of Dorne think of describing Tyene as a gentle mother. She never thought Tyene would settle down, let alone have a family of her own. Yet she managed to go against all odds and while Sarella disliked her goodbrother crass attitude sometimes, she couldn't deny they were a good match. After all, who other than a sellsword would manage to tame a Venomous Snake?
She thought about what her sister said and decided to summon Drey to the Water Gardens. Sarella wanted to see first-hand if the man still held a candle for her married sister, and was glad to see that neither of them behaved untowardly. Not that she didn't trust Tyene, but she had seen the two of them fool around when they were younger and some memories couldn't be shaken out so easily.
"We were young and truly immature, Princess," Drey said to her when she asked about his feelings for Tyene. "But she was my friend and we trusted each other. It was never meant to last and we both knew this."
"So you never loved her?" she asked curiously.
"Only as a friend, as I still do. I am happy to see her happy, and I wish someday I will be able to have a family on my own, with someone I can trust and who would trust me as much," he said, staring at her intently.
"Did Tyene put you up to this?" Sarella frowned, looking away as she felt colors rise on her cheeks.
"I'm not a fool, Princess. You being intent on asking me intimate questions about my past, and Tyene constantly ogling us every time we have a conversation makes me believe there's a chance you could be interested in courting me."
"Me? Courting you?" Sarella exclaimed in disbelief. "Isn't it supposed to be you who does the courting?"
"This is Dorne, Princess. I wouldn't mind being courted by you, and I'm certainly not the only one thinking so." Drey chuckled, making the princess smirk in turn.
It didn't take too long for Sarella to form a friendship with Drey. He was a nice man, always eager to know of her interests, and genuinely asking questions of her while at the same time, he was not seeming to fake his desire to share the things he liked with her too. She was still on the fence regarding being intimate with him. Hence why she was so different from her sister. Drey was comely, and she would not deny that his smile made her stomach flutter sometimes. Yet, for so long she had been too set on becoming a Maester to think about being with anyone, and she would have never risked blowing her disguise over something that didn't matter to her. So closeness and intimacy with a man were not something she was used to. Sarella knew, however, what would be expected of her as a Princess of Dorne and so she tried to get this over with. Even going as far as to ask Drey to take her maidenhead. She had been much surprised by his refusal to do so.
"You are not ready, Princess, and I will not risk my head if I displeased you before we wed."
Though it had been a jape, she had been touched by his calculating, yet touching move, and had decided to court him formally at that moment.
Sarella had then dreaded the moment that they would formally announce their betrothal, as she knew that Tyene would never leave her alone once she did so. She wanted the wedding to be done after her sister's delivery, but Tyene insisted that she go ahead before, fearing that Sarella wouldn't go through with it should something happen to her or the babe. Her dress was quickly made, as the wedding dresses in Dorne needed little sewing and more jewels ornating them. Then what felt all too soon Sarella found herself in awe of herself as she stood in front of the looking glass.
"You look like Mama…" Tyene said, placing their mother's copper headband jewelry over her head, which descended all the way down her cleavage. "She and Father would be proud of you today."
"Don't be so soft on me, sister! Where's the snide Tyene when I need her to calm my nerves?" Sarella retorted, trying to get a grip on her emotions.
"You want something to calm your nerves? Truly?"
"Anything. I'll take anything thrown at me, so go ahead, do not spare me."
"Well, I sort of have a confession to make, and I need you to promise me that you will not be mad at me," Tyene said, biting her lip as she'd been known to do as a child when facing their parents.
"What did you do?"
"Promise first!" Tyene said firmly. "The last thing we need is for you to get mad and hurt me when I'm with child."
"Tell me."
"Well, remember when you told me about the three men you considered as potential husbands?" Tyene started nervously, making Sarella frown while nodding. "Well, I sort of altered some facts so you would consider Drey."
"What did you do, Tyene?"
"I lied. There! I said it! I lied when I said I slept with all three of them."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because you would have never given Drey the time of your day if I hadn't, and I knew! I knew he was the man for you! The two others weren't worthy of you and Drey….he was my friend and… He is a good man. Look me in the eyes and tell me this isn't true."
"I… I can't believe you did this!" Sarella said, feigning more anger than she truly felt.
"I would do anything for my sister's happiness. Please do not resent me for this." Tyene said with confidence and while Sarella felt angry for the deception, she could not stay mad seeing her sister's pleading eyes.
"I guess we cannot go back in time now." the Princess sighed loudly, staring back at her reflection in the looking glass. "But now you are indebted to me."
"What? You're the one getting married thanks to me!"
"Thanks to your deception."
"Very well. What do you want?"
"I don't know yet, but I will," Sarella said and smirked as her sister cursed at her. In a world where everything she knew was changing, sometimes too fast, it felt good that some didn't and she cherished her sisterly bonds more than ever.
Less than an hour later she was wed and at the feast that night, she found herself looking at her new husband more than once. Soon enough they were alone together, both of them as eager for what was to come as the other. To her utter delight, Drey proved himself a careful and considerate lover, and more than that not once did Sarella picture him laying with her sister as she had feared she might. By the time she had woken the next morning, she was more than happy with the choice she'd made and with the husband she'd spent her life with.
The Eyrie, 307 AC.
Lady Anya Waynwood.
The journey from Ironoaks to the Eyrie had been long and tiring, but Anya had been surprised to see how uneventful it was compared to the last time she'd ridden there. It had been a long time since she'd traveled this route. Her last journey had seen her convoy being raided by the mountain clans who roamed the Vale a year prior, prompting her to stop doing so.
Anya had petitioned Harrold to send people to stop the raiding, as well as the Crown when her former ward said he was too short on men to do so. She had been compensated for the loss of food and material she had transported with her by the Crown, but the loss of her man at arms and seven of her guards had been unaccounted for, much to her dismay.
She knew the King and Queen could do nothing to replace the lost lives of her vassals, yet she couldn't help but blame them and her former Liege for the actual state of the Vale. As she very much did Sansa Stark too at times.
Anya Waynwood was a practical woman, hence why she didn't ask for much when she'd seen King's Landing's devastation. She'd known that it would be Queen Daenerys' priority to rebuild the city, as it was her seat of power, and she was already more than satisfied with the crown's choice of the new Lord Protector of the Vale.
" Lady Olenna told me that you were the one who put forward Lord Hardyng's name as Lord of the Eyrie, Lady Waynwood?" the queen asked when she agreed to meet her for an audience.
" Yes, Your Grace. He is the closest of kin to Lord Arryn and was his heir in all but name. I'm… Deeply sorry for your cousin's loss, my Lord." she then said to Rickon Stark, who was also in attendance, though she hadn't understood why.
" I bet you are." the savage boy almost growled in response.
" We have no arguments against your proposal, my Lady. Lord Hardyng has the right of inheritance going for him, so he will get the Eyrie and become the Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East." Queen Daenerys declared.
" I thank you, your Grace."
" However, due to the recent events before and during the War for the Dawn, I must tell you that the Vale has much to do to rebuild its reputation."
" I… don't understand, Your Grace."
" The Knights of the Vale, Lady Waynwood. So far their actions left me unimpressed."
" I cannot speak for all of them, Your Grace, but I know most of them only followed their liege's regent's actions."
" What about after his death, my Lady?"
" I do not know what happened at Winterfell, Your Grace. But our forces helped the Starks reclaim their keep, and-"
" And then both Lord Royce and Lord Baelish tried to push my goodsister to rule in my goodbrother's stead, going so far as infiltrating the Northern Council and bargaining their involvement in the War of the Dawn if their requests weren't met favorably. Then they disobeyed a direct order during said war, costing us thousands of lives and growing our enemy's ranks in the process."
" I… I know nothing about that." Anya said shakily.
" I know, but what do you know about what happened with Lord Arryn, Lady Anya?" the queen asked.
" Your Grace?"
" I summoned him to bend the knee before I left for my campaign in the North and I received no answer. Am I right to suppose he did not want to swear fealty to me?"
" He… He was unstable, Your Grace, and his views didn't reflect the Vales'. Please do not hold the errors of dead men against those who remain."
" Thankfully for you, their graces do not." the Stark brat scoffed. "If it were for me, I would not give the Knights of the Vale the time of the day. They placed their pride over their survival and it cost them greatly."
" Yet there are some of them who fought valiantly and went against their way to help us win the war." King Baelon intervened, making the boy roll his eyes. "Moreover, we cannot hold those who were absent from the conflict in the same contempt as we do the others."
" I thank you for this, my King," Anya said, relieved.
" The naming of Lord Hardyng will take place in two days." Queen Daenerys stated. "The decree is already signed. But I'm warning you, my Lady, that should your suggestion turn out to be disastrous for the Vale, should Lord Hadying not fulfill his vows toward the Crown and his people…"
" My cousin will not be the only one dying from a so-called 'broken heart'." Rickon Stark spat, sparking a wave of outrage in Anya's body.
" I will not tolerate -"
" A pain of the Vale's arse, not fit to be a Lord, never had the Vale's best interest at heart, in need of a rest after such turmoil… Does that ring a bell in your head?"
" Rickon." the queen chastised the boy, whose words and angry stare much discomfited Anya.
" She knows what I mean, and that's the last I will talk about the subject," he said before leaving, his direwolf flanking him and growling as he walked past her, making her jump in fright.
She had heard things about the former King in the North and his supposed powers since he had supposedly come back from the dead. The reports from Lord Royce and Littlefinger were well known to her, though she thought them exaggerated and another way for them to insist on staying north so as to counter the boy's influence.
Now that she had heard him say what she had told Robin before his death, she was certain that the king and queen knew of her involvement in it, or rather suspected it. Though how the savage boy could know of that was beyond her comprehension.
In a way, she had then felt that Donnel's naming to the Kingsguard was a way to control her. Instead of being proud, she thought they were keeping his son hostage. Only Donnel's word on the subject of how well he had been treated had then assuaged some of her fear. Though she still couldn't truly shake her fear of Rickon Stark.
" Be wary of the King's brother, son. That's all that I ask." She begged her son when she was about to depart for Gulltown.
" Aye, Mother. I will. Though for whatever reason he and his direwolf seemed to like me well enough."
" He could fake his kindness to you to get to me."
" Why would he do that?" Donnel asked, frowning in suspicion. "What did you do, Mother?"
" Nothing." She lied. "Be careful, that's all. Swear it to me."
" I swear, Mother. You do not have to be afraid."
If only you knew… she thought before embracing her with all her might.
The return to the Vale had been difficult. Harrold at least took his role as Warden of the East very seriously and so he had invited some of the displaced people of King's Landing to stay in their lands to repopulate it. Out of three thousand Knights who went North, less than a hundred had made the journey back home. Some Houses were now extinct because of the War of the Dawn and their strife with the North Houses such as House Corbray, Templeton, or Belmore. Their lands were now unclaimed and vulnerable, which was not good for the Smallfolk who quickly fled their villages.
Soon the Mountain Clans established footholds in the deserted keeps, and Harrold had no other choice but to call for the Crown's aid because of Anya's insistence, not knowing that she had already done so.
Yet the arrival of the foreigners and Free Folk had felt like an insult to Anya. The Crown wouldn't gather men from Westeros to help their bannermen in need and so instead sent them lesser forces. Or so she had believed. What would savages do against other savages? Wouldn't there be a risk of them banding together against the Vale's forces? Those were thoughts and questions that filled Anya's mind.
Only Donnel's presence with the large group of savages had reassured Anya. For surely her son would not condone them acting against his fellow Valemen. At least she thought he wouldn't. Until word had reached her of the crown negotiating with the Mountain Clans.
She wouldn't, couldn't believe that her son would betray his people this way, and so she sent her other son, Morton, to see for himself.
"Things are more complex than what it looks like, Mother." was his answer when he came back. "The Free Folk follow the Old Gods, as do our New King and his family, and they… They wanted Donnel to act as the king did when he was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"Meaning?"
"He was sent as an envoy, to bring the Mountain Clans to the fold of the Seven Kingdoms. The Crown wanted to offer them some lands that are not occupied in exchange for their fealty and their vow that they would stop raiding other villages and lands that weren't part of their settlement."
"They would put these savages we fought for centuries on our lands? How dare they?" Anya shouted, outraged.
"They dare because they are the King and the Queen, Mother."
"And your brother agreed to that?"
"Donnel believes that if it worked for the Free Folk, it should work with the Mountain men. We wouldn't need to fight them if they settled willingly."
"His time in Court has influenced him the wrong way! We cannot let that happen!"
"What do you plan to do?"
"I'm leaving for the Eyrie."
"Mother…"
"I will talk to Harrold and we will find a way to -"
"Lord Hardyng agreed to this plan, Mother." Morton cut her off, startling her. "And after what I've seen, I think we have no choice but to go with this too."
"What… What did you see?"
"I've seen what happened to the clans who refused the offer. The Burned Men, the Black Ears… All of them are dead, Mother."
"Dead, you say?" she repeated, incredulous.
Those were two of the most important and vicious of the tribes from the Mountain Clans. Not even the Knights of the Vale could end the threat they posed, for they had always used the lands to hide and they would only strike when they wanted to.
"Yes, Mother. They are no more. The Dothraki decimated them and the Free Folk hunted the rest of the tribes down, leaving only their leaders for the Warg's Shadow to end them."
"The Warg's Shadow?"
"Rickon Stark's direwolf."
The words sent a chill to Anya's spine as she remembered the fierce beast growling at her. The thought of it roaming freely on the Vale's lands, out for blood, made her fear for her own life.
"When I was there, I also witnessed some of our knights rallying behind the Dothraki and the Free Folk. I believe the fact that they fought in the same war has brought them together. Some have called for them to stay in their former lords' land, according to Donnel. To protect the villagers and make a life here."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Ser Ben Coldwater traveled with me. I think you should talk to him. The things he'd said to me… The things they went through during the Long Night… I understand the camaraderie they share now, as they saved each other's lives and survived the most gruesome battle anyone ever could."
"Does that give them the right to invade our lands?" Anya said bitterly.
"They didn't invade, Mother. They were invited."
Anya stood in her solar, insensible to her son's words. She felt betrayed by her own flesh and kin and couldn't comprehend how they, mainly Harrold, would so openly accept those terms. Was he being pressured? Was he so scared of the dragons that he would throw the lands he was supposed to protect to the wolves to keep his head?
Of course, she knew the Long Night had been real, for a few of the men she'd sent with Baelish came back completely changed by their time in the North. She had seen the days turning to night and couldn't deny that something had happened even though she hadn't been there to witness it. Anya's talks with Lady Olenna, when she'd traveled to King's Landing, not knowing of the city's devastation and the fact the Queen wasn't there either, had her up to date with the Crown's campaign. As well as with Baelon Targaryen's true identity, the Lady Hand's now undeniable younger self could only be the result of magic.
Yet she couldn't help but feel outraged over the Crown exploiting this tragedy, the loss of all those people, to force their heathen savages into her lands. It was definitely a ploy made by Rickon Stark, she was sure of it, and there was nothing she could do about it but curse him and the rest of his family.
She waited for the people to realize their folly, for them to return to their senses once they would see that neither a Mountain Clansmen nor a Wildling or whatever they now called themselves, could be trusted, yet even Harry had fallen under their spell.
"The Dothraki and Free Folk are now inhabitants of Heart's Home, my Lady." her former ward said almost disinterestedly. "House Corbray is no more and the lands are aplenty. The smallfolk are pleased that the raidings have stopped and welcomed their saviors with open arms."
"But -"
"Your son is the one leading the charge, Aunt. Have you talked to him? Have you heard his point of view?"
"His time at court -"
"I would travel there if I were you. I was not happy with the move at first, but then I saw Ser Donnel in action. They've done us a great favor by ridding us of the rebellious Mountain Clans. If a bit of land is the price to pay for peace and protection, then it's a price I will pay willingly."
"That's not a bit of land, Harrold!" she exclaimed and he frowned at her. "First it will be Heart's Home, then Nine Stars, and soon every bit that should be returned to us will be used for -"
"I see. You were counting on expanding your lands, weren't you? You wanted me to gift one of the remaining keeps to one of your sons?" he said curtly, making her gasp in surprise.
"That's not… That is not what I was implying."
"That still can be done, Aunt. Heart's Home is in need of a Lord. I can ask the Crown to name Wallace as its head. After all, he will need men and women to rule his new lands, what say you?"
"I will not let my son around these savages!" she retorted, affronted.
"Then I will name someone else, but make no mistake, my Lady, we are not in a position to make demands from the Crown. I suggest you travel to Hardhome and talk to Ser Donnel as soon as you can."
"Are you ousting me from the Eyrie?"
"Of course not, but there are things you need to understand more clearly and I believe you need to see them for yourself. Best do it quick before I lose my patience, or worse, before the Warg's Shadow does." he ended with a shiver.
Anya did as she was told, albeit unwillingly, so as not to burn bridges with the new Lord Protector of the Vale. She went to Heart's Home, thinking she would find the place in disarray and chaos, only to find quite the contrary.
The village was more active than Anya had ever seen it be. She could hear people laugh boisterously and almost without a care in the world. The well she passed by was surrounded by women who chatted excitedly, though Anya couldn't hear what they were saying.
When they entered Heart's Home's courtyard, she was surprised to see Donnel sparring with some young boys there. He was smiling brightly while entertaining them, correcting their posture and positions when they gave their all to defeat him with their wooden swords, and his smile grew whilst spotting her get out of the carriage.
"Mother!" he greeted her warmly. "I didn't think you would arrive this soon."
"You knew I was coming?" she said, confused.
"Aye. Lord Harrold sent us a raven when you left the Eyrie. How was your travel? Anything of note to report?" he asked and she shook her head. "Good. Give me a moment, please, and I'll show you to your rooms."
Not waiting for a response, he ran back to the boys and spoke to a man she knew not before then coming back and offering his arm to her. Anya took it shakily and was led by him to the rooms he had readied for her. He bid her to get some rest and sent someone with some refreshments before taking his leave. Though the Lady was still a little bewildered by that small interaction with her son.
Donnel had always been a dutiful boy whose dream was to be a Knight of the Vale like his older brother. He had done everything that had been asked of him so he could have a chance to squire for a famed knight and had been overjoyed when the Blackfish had agreed to be his mentor. He'd left Ironoaks for the Gates of the Moon and Anya had been proud when the Blackfish had left him in charge so that he could go to the Riverlands and be with his family.
Not once had Anya thought of Donnel as a natural leader, and the way the people of Heart's Home acknowledged him with reverence in the short time she'd been there had somewhat filled her with shame. She had doubted him and his ability to be anything else than a Knight, a subordinate when here he was treated as much more.
"I hope your room suits your needs, Mother," he said later as they settled in the Lord's solar, after dinner.
"It does. I must admit that I am pleasantly surprised. I had thought…"
"You thought you would be welcomed by a horde of savages, didn't you?" Donnell said with a chuckle.
"After all that I've heard about your campaign, you can't blame me for fearing the worst," she argued.
"Do you have so little faith in me, Mother?"
"I…" she couldn't answer the question, feeling the guilt and shame come back.
"I should feel upset at this lack of trust, but in a way, I expected that reaction. You were never one to love drastic changes and this is a tremendous one. Care to listen to a story?"
Donnel's confidence was overwhelming and she could only down the glass of wine he poured for her and nod once she was done.
"Have you heard of how the Free Folk crossed the Wall? King Baelon once told me that it was not an easy feat. He had lived with them after he'd been captured, and after he'd witnessed the legends of the White Walkers being real, he couldn't shake the feeling that should we all survive a Long Night, we needed every living force we could get. When he became Lord Commander, he treated with them and it wasn't even his words that convinced all of them to leave their home."
"What, then?" she asked, curious.
"The threat of the Night King. He attacked the camp when King Baelon was present, prompting the Free Folk to flee and accept his offer."
"What does it have to do with the matter at hand?"
"Well, when we received word that the Vale was being raided by the Mountain clans, I thought about this story and devised a plan. Fear of dying and the need for protection was what brought all the tribes of the Free Folk together. That was what brought them and the Knights of the Vale together during the Long Night. Why couldn't it work with the mountain tribes?"
"So you were the one whose idea was to fight them with other savages?" She asked almost in disbelief.
"With people who survived the war when ours failed to do so. You can think of them as savages, but I train with them at Court and I can tell you that most of them are fierce warriors. The Unsullied are trained to fight through harsh conditions, and not even winter could deter them. The Dothraki are excellent riders and they can adapt to the terrain faster than anyone. We could have come with dragons and ended all of the Mountain Tribes, but the more I spent time with the Free Folk, who also follow the Old Gods. I realized that they simply never got past their enmity toward the Andals because they didn't fear us, not trust us to protect them because of our past history. I suggested my plan to the King and the Queen, and both trusted me to try to bring them to the fold. We proposed alternatives to the tribes. Either they could leave North or to the lands of Spring, with the Free Folk who settled there and be welcomed as fellow followers of the Old Gods. Or they could stay there and work with us, as the Vale is in dire need of working forces. Some left already, and others chose to stay under our conditions. We didn't plan for the remaining knights to vouch for us to the smallfolk and encourage them to ask for our protection, however. Yet so far the collaboration seems to bear fruit." Donnel ended proudly.
"Does it have to be them?" she insisted, feeling her last reserves crumble.
"Better to have people you trust watching over you, Mother. If the Mountain Clans go back to their previous ways, they and the smallfolk know what awaits them."
"The Warg's Shadow? That's why it came with you?" she asked and shivered when her son smirked at her.
"Sometimes we need to instill fear in the hearts of people to make sure they will not misbehave. I will do what I can to make sure that my brother's land will be well-manned and protected."
"I don't understand." she blubbered, more and more lost.
"Heart's Home will need a Lord to rule over the people. King Baelon gave me leave to try my approach with the understanding that should we manage to rid ourselves of the problematic tribes, he also trusted me to find the one I would see fit to lead all of them. I chose Wallace for the role, as I trust him to see the bigger picture and what will need to be done."
"So, you're doing it for our family, too?"
"No. I'm doing it for the realm. I'm a Dragonguard, and my loyalty is first to my king and queen."
"How long will you stay?" she wondered
"Not long. My work here is almost done. I will go back to Dragons' Rest as my duty demands of me and give my report to the Crown. Though, given the direwolf who stands at the threshold, I believe they already know what is happening." He chuckled whilst his mother jumped slightly. "I'm glad you came, Mother. I know it's been hard for you but I hope you understand more of it now and that you trust, if not the King and Queen, then myself. Because they didn't hesitate to do so, not to spite you or the Vale, but because they believed me capable of doing what was right."
"I… I trust you, Son. I was just worried that you were involved in something that was too much for you, and I am pleased to see you in charge of your life. Truly." she said truthfully and was once again surprised by Donnel's kiss on her cheek, something he hadn't done since he had been anointed.
"It pleases me to hear this. Come, Mother. I want to introduce you to Wallace's future guard."
A few days later, Anya left for Ironoaks as a truly changed woman. She was escorted by the guard who her son had appointed so she would travel safely. Her heart was filled with pride and hope for the future. For Wallace who would rule Heart's Home as its lord, for Donnel was watching over the Vale with the dragons' blessing, and for the Warg's Shadow was watching over her son.
Winterfell, 307 AC.
Sansa Stark.
The hot water of the spring soothed her aching body and she was glad she had listened to Old Nan. This pool was not known by many, giving her the privacy she needed, and craved to leave her duties behind. Each and every time that she managed to slip through Sandor and Arya's ever-watchful gaze was another one that she cherished greatly.
Not that she wasn't glad of her sister's overbearing presence ever since she came back into her life, but sometimes Arya was too protective for her taste. Sansa could also feel her sorrow for being stuck in Nymeria's body and not being at peace, which had in turn made her feel terribly guilty.
"Sansa Stark!"
She yelped and quickly looked in the direction of the angry voice, her heart beating loudly in her chest.
"What? What in the seven hells?" she exclaimed, flabbergasted, as her sister stood right there in front of her.
"You, what in the seven hells?" Arya said back to her.
"How… How the fuck did you get your body back? How is it possible?"
"To hell with this!" Arya retorted, looking murderous and not a day older than the last time Sansa had seen her in flesh.
"How can you say that? This is important!"
"Not as important as your state! Who did this to you?" Arya asked, pointing to her stomach.
"What? What are you yelling about?"
"How the fuck are you with child? Is it the bear stalker? It's him isn't it?"
"What did you say?" Sansa asked, completely lost and overwhelmed by the situation.
"I knew it! I knew I shouldn't leave you alone with him!" Arya ignored her and the lady of Winterfell felt a surge of annoyance.
"ARYA!"
"What?"
"I am not with child," Sansa said, detaching each word so her sister would calm down.
"Tell that to Old Nan! She was the one springing this on me and asking me to choose my fate because you will soon be a fucking mother! I knew something was strange with you but to think you would be with child… I swear to the Old Gods, I swear if he fucking forced you…"
"He didn't."
"Are you sure?" Arya insisted, her voice dangerously low.
Sansa nodded and tuned her sister out, thinking back to when her life changed for the better, a few years prior.
Nymeria's attitude had changed drastically. She was being more affectionate, almost too affectionate for Sansa's taste and the lady of Winterfell was worried something was wrong with the direwolf who kept pinning her down and licking her face. She was about to call for Nan when someone's gasp made her turn suddenly.
" Can you help me? Nymeria is being unruly and I don't -"
" This can't be…" The man she recognized as Talia Forrester's half-brother said, looking aghast.
" My Lord? Is something the matter?"
" Your sister…" he answered, pointing to Nymeria, and forcing Sansa to look at the wolf.
She saw it then. The sparkling grey eyes that weren't there moments before, took her breath away as her heart stilled in her chest.
" A-Arya? Is… Are you in Nymeria?" she asked softly, not wanting to get her hopes up, and gasping once the wolf nodded. "For true? Is it real?"
The eye roll Sansa received broke her guard and she began to cry.
" How? How is it possible?"
" Your sister was a warg, wasn't she?" Josera Snow said.
" She was… I… Apologies, my Lord, I shouldn't -" she mumbled, feeling embarrassed.
" She's your sister, my Lady. You thought her lost. I won't begrudge you this moment of weakness."
" I still don't understand how…"
" Wargs can travel into their familiar's body whenever they want. Looks like your sister learned to do so just now."
" She was dead. You were dead!" Sansa retorted, still dumbfounded as Nymeria allowed her to stand up.
" Her body may have been rendered useless, but her spirit traveled. The Old Gods work in mysterious ways, Lady Sansa. Just thank them for the gift they gave you and enjoy it while it lasts."
She had kept quiet for weeks, not wanting to get her hopes up and fearing Arya would fade away. As all the stories she'd heard about wargs being stuck in their familiar after their deaths had suggested that they lost themselves and got taken over by the animal that they'd warged into. Even though Old Nan ensured her that it was different, she waited and waited until she was certain Arya wouldn't go away before informing Baelon and Rickon of what had happened.
Once again, it was Josera Snow who had put her fears to ease. He was also a warg, and despite Arya being wary of him, she allowed him a few moments in Nymeria's mind so she could explain that she was there for good. Sansa had then sent a raven to her brother, informing them of what had transpired.
The relief she'd felt knowing this was short-lived when she realized she couldn't communicate properly with Arya. Sansa felt jealous of Rickon, who could talk to their family members through the heart Tree, and of Baelon who managed to talk with their sister through Ghost as soon as they had been alerted of her presence inside of Nymeria. Arya was staying with her, stuck in Nymeria's body, and she made no move to travel and see either Rickon or Baelon, for which Sansa was grateful. Yet the Lady of Winterfell couldn't feel their bond and it frustrated her immensely. Moved by desperation, she summoned the only person she felt could help her at this moment.
" I know you are just starting to get accustomed to your new home, Lord Josera, and I apologize for calling you back here."
" You have to answer when the Red Wolf calls. That's what Rodrik told me."
" Yes… Well… This is not a call to arms, merely a desperate plea from a desperate person." she said, making him frown.
" Desperate, you said?"
" I want you to teach me how to warg. I want to talk to my sister as you did when you were there."
" You talk to your sister all the time, my Lady."
" But sometimes I can't understand her reactions."
" It will come with time, my Lady. I cannot teach you how to be a warg. You either are one or you aren't."
" My brothers and sister had the gift. All of them." she said, feeling worried that she may not be as true a wolf as they were." But even though I would want to, it may not work." she added, seeing him wither a little and so she went in for the kill "Please, Josera. I need to… I want to…" she said desperately.
" You're really that desperate, eh?" he sighed deeply. "Very well then. We will try."
A wave of happiness surged through Sansa and she resisted the urge to embrace the newly made Lord, settling for a smile and a nod.
They had been close for a while since then. Firstly thanks to their warging lessons, then because of the growing attraction between them. Sansa didn't want her sister to worry about her, knowing what had happened with Ramsay and Littlefinger, and she needed to keep it a secret for herself too. She felt like she deserved this, this small bit of intimacy that she could share with Josera Snow.
Things felt so different when they were alone in the Wolfswood, in this place where she was not the Warden of the North, but simply Sansa. She could be a Wolf and he would be his Bear. Josera was struggling with the norms of the North, with being a Lord while he was a Free Man at heart, and being intimate with him made her understand why. He was a fine man, very attractive and primal in his ways. His features were true of the North, his strong build resembling that of the bear he had as a familiar. Only his deep blue eyes distinguished him from an average Northman. More than once Sansa had thought about what her mother would say about her being intimate with a bastard, being unmarried, and not behaving as a lady should, but those thoughts always evaporated quickly when he pushed her over the edge. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she looked back to Arya.
"I am with child?" she whispered, putting a hand over her stomach.
"It seems so."
"And you… Got your body back…"
"Aye, so I could be there for you and your child. Were you listening or not? Wait… What are you… NO! DON'T YOU DARE-"
Sansa grabbed her sister's leg and pulled her into the pool, laughing as Arya cursed at her for doing so. She felt happier than she'd ever been and blessed by the Gods more than she deserved.
"Did you run from Winterfell to here?" she suddenly frowned.
"I might have. What about it?"
"You're naked."
"Fuck." Arya swore and Sansa laughed harder. "Right, mock me as long as you want. I am not the one who will have to tell my kingly brother that my unmarried ass is going to have a child."
"Fuck!" Sansa exclaimed, all traces of humor gone as she imagined her brothers' reaction to the news.
Later that night though as she lay in her bed, her fingers brushing over the slight swell in her stomach, Sansa wore a true smile. She was going to have a babe, a babe of her own. a babe that she could teach all she knew about how to be a lord or a lady.
"I will make you the wolf you need to be, I will teach you how to howl," Sansa said as she drifted off to sleep praying that she'd see her babe in her dreams.
Winterfell, 307 AC.
Arya Stark.
(Before speaking to Sansa at the Pool)
Arya had lost her once again and it frustrated her to see how easily Sansa could use what she had learned about their bond to shut her out.
She blamed the Free man turned Lord of Ironrath for teaching Sansa how to make herself invisible, for Arya had grown incredibly protective of her sister ever since she came back from the dead. Even with a hundred wolves at her service, she couldn't figure out where Sansa would go when she would leave for a whole day.
Leave her be, sister. She ought to have a day by herself. Rickon's amused voice rang through her head, making her growl in annoyance.
"What if something happens to her while she is away?" she retorted.
She knows how to protect herself. Moreover, Shadow is never too far from her.
"And it doesn't bother you?"
You can feel his desire to protect her. He would never hurt her. And he is there because she lets him.
"That's what I don't understand."
Sometimes you can be a little… Too much to handle…
"Say that again?" she growled.
And on this note, I am going to spend some time with my nephew! Love you, sister mine! Rickon laughed and she rolled her eyes as she felt his presence fade away from her mind, feeling a little sadness for not being able to physically be with Jon and his son.
She couldn't help to feel overprotective of Sansa, especially these last few months. Sansa's attitude had changed subtly when Baelon and Dany announced the birth of their son, and Arya couldn't help but notice her sister daydream a little more than usual. She knew Sansa was spending time with Shadow and its master, as she could smell their scent around her sister, and both she and Sandor were wary of the man who they thought was trying to ingratiate himself in Sansa's good graces.
"No luck finding her?" the Hound had asked as they met in front of her room and she shook her head. "Fucking Hell. The good news is that the fucker is breaking his fast right now. So she is all alone and not out playing warg and familiars."
She chuckled internally, seeing Sandor Clegane voice her discontent made her feel vindicated. Throughout the years, they came together without him being able to understand her, rallying behind their need and want to protect Sansa.
"Well, then. I guess we will get chicken for dinner today." Clegane sighed loudly before heading to the main Hall, leaving Arya alone to sulk.
Arya understood Sansa's need to be alone sometimes and she wished she could do the same, but she was stuck sharing Nymeria's mind. While her wolf sister was as accommodating as she could be, for which Arya was incredibly thankful, she sometimes wished she would go back to the Heart Tree, with her father, brother, aunt, and uncle. The anger she'd felt as she died had dissipated when Bran had been punished for what he'd done and knowing the House of Black and White could pose no more threat to her brothers had helped put even more of her worries at ease. She had been brought back to help Sansa get better, and she felt that her sister was getting the hang of it, so why was she still there?
Why couldn't she get back to the serenity she had felt with her ancestors and that she craved so much?
Being stuck in the world of the living hurt her more than she would admit it. She missed her brothers dearly and longed for being with them, seeing them, and besides some interactions through warging, she was confident the painful memories of Winterfell and her demise would be too much to have them back in their former home. Yet she couldn't abandon Sansa, who was the reason for her being there, just because the bond she had with Baelon or Rickon was stronger. She would not do that to her sister, even though it broke her heart. Most of all, being here without Gendry felt like a punishment. Her heart broke every time she passed the smithy, thinking back to the last words they said to each other.
" If I die -"
" You won't, stupid. That is not an option."
" Arya, I want to -"
" You will not die and me neither. If you see death, you know what to say to it."
" Aye. Not Today."
" Good."
" I know you follow the Old Gods and I the Seven and that we don't know if there are truly seven heavens."
" Gendry -"
" If there is something after death, I will be looking for you everywhere. Just know that. I swear it, Arya. No Gods would be able to prevent me from finding you."
She wondered where he was and if his stubborn self was trying to get to her as he promised her.
My stupid bull…
" I'm sorry you feel this way, sister. I'm sorry we're not enough." Nymeria said sadly and Arya sighed.
"That's not… I feel like something is missing, something that is not here."
" I understand and I hope you find it soon."
"I know it is not easy for you to share a mind with me, too. You have a family, a mate, and because of me you weren't able to…"
" I gladly give up any intimacy for you, Sister." Nymeria retorted confidently. "Assuredly, there are some times when I miss…"
"I get it! I get it!"Arya whined as some disturbing mental images ran through her mind. "I am sorry for disturbing your life this way."
" I am not. These days without you were the most miserable of my life. Even when we were apart I could feel you, but when you died… It was as if part of me had died too."
"Oh, Nymeria…"
" It was not your time and I could feel it. When your time comes, then I will let you go, but not today."
She sighed, feeling the sadness wash over her once more until Nymeria suggested they go for a run. It was a fleeting solution, both of them knew it, but Arya needed to forget about her depressing thoughts and nothing helped her more than running until her feet ache.
Arya loved running. She enjoyed the feeling of freedom she felt at that moment when nothing imported other than the feel of the wind through her fur and the speed she could reach. Hunting was also something she enjoyed through Nymeria's body. She led the other wolves and learned with Nymeria how to catch prey, and while the feeling of eating raw meat wasn't something she enjoyed much, she took pride in helping their pack feed themselves.
When she was tired enough, she ran back to Winterfell, hoping that Sansa would be back. She tried to find her sister's mind, feeling her annoyance grow again as she could feel she was safe but not wanting to be found. Arya then found herself going to the crypts, as she used to do when she felt upset.
Settling next to her tomb was like fulfilling her morbid curiosity. Knowing that her body was there, slowly decomposing for years, while her spirit was as vivid as the day she was killed made her feel as if life was a cruel joke made by the Gods when they were feeling bored. She couldn't feel her father's essence here, nor that of her uncle, aunt, grandfather, and brother. Yet she couldn't stop herself from coming and sitting in front of their statues, or of her tomb.
" Because they, like you, died before their time." Old Nan once said. "You know the absurdity of it. You know that death is not the end for a worthy being. They are living still because they are remembered."
" Yet they can only live through the trees. What kind of reward is it when you cannot communicate with those who remember you?"
" Through the trees, the wind, they can still influence and guide their descendants and their loved ones. Do you regret being able to see Sansa? Rickon? Baelon? Do you think your father regrets it?"
" It was worth it only because Rickon was able to act as a vessel for us. How about those who are not wargs? Those who do not hear nor understand their loved one's encouraging words? How is that fair to them?"
" Warging and Greenseeing were common once. When the Old Gods were revered and feared. There were always people able to relay the deceased words and there always will be. As for the ones who live, it is up to them to believe those words or not. Faith is important and rewarding for everyone, child, and you will understand one day how yours matters. The world will be as it once was, Arya child. The Old Ways will return thanks to what you, Sansa, Baelon, and Rickon have done."
As she contemplated her tomb, Arya wondered when the time would come for her to understand her purpose.
"Now is the time." Old Nan's voice rang behind her, making her yelp in surprise.
"By the Gods! A little warning would be welcome, Nan! My heart almost stopped!" Arya barked and the skin-changer chuckled.
"You're letting your guard down, child. You're being lax in your training."
"That's because you're hardly a threat." Arya snorted before yelping once more. "Ouch! What was that for?"
"You should respect your elders."
"Sorry, Nan. I'm just not in the mood to be teased right now."
"Sansa gave you the slip once again?" Nan asked with a smirk.
"Aye. I don't know how she manages it, and she does it more and more regularly. What if something happens to her?"
"She's doing it because she feels safe. And she is, thanks to you and to Shadow." Old Nan pointed out and Arya snorted once more. "Moreover, it is normal for a she-wolf to need time alone, especially when she is nesting."
"I get that she needs time for herself, but -"
Sister! Nymeria cut her off, making her frown.
"Why can't she just… What?"
Haven't you heard what the Elder just said?
"I was responding to it!"
Sister! Focus! It is important! Nymeria chastised her and she rolled her eyes.
"You have noticed slight changes in Sansa, haven't you? How she seems to have more appetite, to be more energized while complaining about her back…" Nan said, smiling slightly, which reassured Arya that this was not a bad thing.
"Should I worry?" the she-wolf insisted still.
"Oh, trust me, you will, even though it is a good omen. You feel overprotective of her, don't you?"
"Aye, especially when she leaves like this."
"Because of who you are, of who she is. The time has come for you to decide what you truly wish for. You will be asked to choose between going back to the tree or embracing your purpose."
"My purpose?"
"Sansa will need you in the moons to come, for she is bearing the future of House Stark. The future you have been made to protect."
"The future? You mean that…"
"She is with child, aye," Nan said, her words shocking Arya to her core.
"How? When? Oh, Gods! Every time she slipped away…"
"This is where I hand you the mantle, dear child." Old Nan cut her rambling off. "My time as a protector of the Starks has come to an end."
"Wait, no! You can't -"
"It is what it is, Arya. Whether you like it or not, it is time for me to meet the Gods. The future of House Stark is now in your hands."
"I… I can't do it alone. I don't even know how… I'm stuck in Nymeria's body! How can I… How can we go on without you? You've always been here, Nan. Sansa will need you! "
"The Gods will provide the how, Arya, all you need to do is let them and me know what you chose."
"I don't understand any of this, Nan. How can I be you? What does that even mean?"
"I am a servant of the Old Gods, Arya. As is Rickon and as they hoped that Bran would be. With me, they gave form to my spirit. I am a wolf and a woman, yet in truth, I am neither. You too will be the same. Lead the pack, Arya. Be to my wolves what I was and what Nymeria now is. Be to your family what they need you to be. It is a heavy burden and one I bore to see to the forming of your House. Now it needs someone else to be there as House Stark is reformed."
"I still don't….what does it mean? What will I be?"
"You'll be me. A wolf and a woman, yet not. Alive and yet not, though not dead either. As real as I am yet less so than Sansa or Baelon, more akin to Rickon than any other. Yet as different from him as he is from your brother and sister." Nan said, her words making little sense.
"I…"
"Life eternal until your time comes to pass the gift to another. Serve the gods, Ayra Child, the True Gods and not the False one the Faceless Men wished you to serve. Serve them and be rewarded by them as I too will be."
"You are being rewarded? Not punished?" she asked to a laugh from Nan.
"I served my gods and did their will, why would they punish me for doing so? Your love, Arya, the young man you hold in your heart."
"Gendry," she said almost in a whisper.
"Only the gods can welcome him into their embrace. He seeks you out and yet he needs you to find him, Arya Child."
Arya looked to Nan, to Nymeria, and then to her tomb. She understood this not and yet in the end wasn't that what faith was all about? Did she have it in her to take the leap that Nan was asking her to take? Could she forgive herself if she did not? Smiling as she remembered that she was never afraid to leap into the unknown, Arya heard Nan speak some more.
"Will you do this? Will you become House Stark's protector as I once was, and take care of your sister's line as if they were your own? Will you vow your life to them as you wanted to do for your family, to shield them from harm with the Old Gods' Help? Will you forsake your place in the tree and take your place in the realm of the living for the Good of your nephews and nieces, and their descendants after them, until the Gods see fit to find you a replacement?"
Arya stood there, not knowing what to say. The thought of replacing Old Nan was a scary one. The skin-changer had lived for so long, lost so much of her kin and yet she had served House Stark faithfully until then. Would Arya be able to see her family die and be strong enough to endure years and centuries of pain without them? Would she truly see Gendry once more at the end of her service? In the end, it mattered not. As always it was her family she thought about. Baelon, Rickon, Sansa, and then the thought of Sansa being alone to care for her babe was more than enough for her to make up her mind.
"It's time," Nan said.
"For what?"
"For you to become me."
Arya could feel something change inside of her. Her mind floated away from Nymeria, who she could see staring at her with something akin to pride.
"Am I ready?"
"Yes."
Arya felt her focus shift once more, the surge of energy and magic almost intoxicating. She could feel her sister now, feel her warmth and something else she hadn't noticed before. Without realizing it, she headed to her, shocked to see her companion flanking her. The closer she ran to her sister, the more Arya felt the change inside her, until she realized she was not in wolf form, not running on all fours anymore, but on two legs.
"Sansa Stark!" she yelled, out of breath, as she finally reached her sister, being the woman she once was whilst being much more than what she was before.
After speaking to Sansa by the pool.
Arya still couldn't comprehend how it happened. A look into the looking glass rendered her speechless. Sansa came back to her room with some of her sister's clothes that she never had the heart to throw away and Arya fit perfectly in them still.
As if nothing had happened two years prior. Nothing but the death and her family's implosion.
She shivered as Sansa moved her hand through her hair and stared at her teary gaze.
"I can't believe that you're here. That's you're truly here."
"I still can't believe you got yourself into this mess." Arya retorted, not wanting to show how emotional she was too.
"Thank you. For staying I mean. I know it must have been hard to make that decision, knowing what it means for you to be the new Old Nan…"
"Sansa, don't. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your and your child's side."
"I am glad that you'll be able to hold my babe and watch over them."
"What about its father?"
"What about him?"
"You know what I mean. Will you tell him?"
"He'll know soon enough."
"Sansa!"
"I know, I know! I… He's a free spirit and I won't marry him. I will never marry again."
"But -"
"I'll send a raven to Baelon to tell him about you first. then I'll speak to him about my… situation. I know he'll fly on Rhaegal as soon as he'll read the raven." Sansa sighed while Arya couldn't help but smile, thinking about seeing her brother again. "I'll need you to stand by my decisions. This is my life, my choice, and I need your support. Will you support me, sister?"
"Only if you give me leave to talk to Josera," Arya answered with a smirk, knowing full well that she would stand with her sister no matter what.
"I don't like this. Can you even wield a sword after all this time?"
"Don't worry about it, I have other means to scare him. And if I can't, there's always the Hound."
"Oh Gods, Sandor… I forgot about him!" Sansa exclaimed, making Arya laugh out loud.
The story of how the Hound marched to the sparring yard and literally punched a bear to get to its master, only stopping at the Red Wolf's behest, would be heard in the North for years to come.
Sansa's pregnancy was a good buffer for the shock of Arya being 'born again' as some of the household said. After seeing how it worked perfectly with Sandor, every time someone looked too much at the new skin-changer, Arya would blurt out her sister's condition to divert the attention, much to Sansa's dismay.
However, she took great pleasure in showing herself to Bran, who almost passed out as he stared at her with horror and distress.
"I will not kill you. I could feel your wish to be freed from your torture when I was inside Nymeria and I sometimes wished to be the one to end you, but I won't. The Gods have blessed me with another life to protect my family, my true one, and I vow to them that I will not fail again. See how much they despise you, for they brought me back when you sought to end me."
"Ho-dor."
"If you needed more proof that what you wanted wasn't meant to pass, then let me stand here breathing before you now prove that." she spat before leaving him screaming after her.
It had taken Winterfell and the North some time to get used to Arya being in Nymeria's body, but eventually they got over their shock and moved on as if it was not out of the ordinary. So both Arya and Sansa hoped they would do the same now. A few offerings to the Old Gods were made and a remembrance ceremony for Old Nan was set to take place in front of the Heart Tree when Rickon, Baelon, and his family would arrive in Winterfell, which according to the Maester would not be for long, as he received the raven announcing the Royal visit.
With bated breath, she waited for their family to be soon reunited. She longed to hold Baelon and to tell him how proud of him she was, for not only ruling Westeros and bringing back peace into the realm, but also for the dedication he had to his vengeance.
Arya had never doubted her brother's love for her, yet nothing showed it more than the way he brought the end of the Cult that brought her own. Holding Needle in her hand, she stood and waited for them to arrive, and when she saw him. When she saw her nephew. Arya knew she'd made the right choice and a girl was finally home.
Storm's End 307 AC.
Davos Seaworth.
He'd arrive on the morrow and so as the camp was set up and he readied himself for another night sleeping away from his bed. Though those nights were far fewer than they'd once been. Davos contemplated on how his life had turned out. He was the Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Master of Ships to a navy that was larger than any the crown had to call upon since the days of the Sea Snake. Not even when he served Stannis as his Hand or Jon Snow as his, had Davos risen so high. At times he could barely believe that this was the life he lived. As Davos thought of Marya and the last few years they'd spent together, he truly believed that he was the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.
The first few moons had been hard. Trying to readjust to being a husband and a father was far more difficult than being a lord, or so Davos had felt. He and Marya had taken some time to get over their awkwardness in seeing each other daily. As had he and his sons in him now once again being the man or the house. It was that in truth that made his other role seem so much easier to adapt to. That and the fact that the Stormlands were in dire need of someone to chart their course and steer them right. Davos would just never have imagined that someone to be him.
As for his role as Master of Ships, initially, it was almost one in name only. Baelon refused to name another and most of Davos' work in that regard had been through letters and ravens. That first year, he'd visited King's Landing no more than twice and one of those was more personal than anything else. A dinner with the king, queen, and with young Rickon Stark. One that his boys and his wife were not only requested to be at but were treated as if they were truly the wife and children of the man that Baelon and Daenerys had named him to be instead of the man that Davos saw when he looked in the looking glass. Though it was because of that man he saw that Baelon and Daenerys had wished him to be the other too.
" There is no one else, Davos. Baelon is only beginning to care about other things once more and yet on this he is as firm as I hope I am conveying." Daenerys said, looking at him.
" You are your grace. I just… would it not be better to have someone here to sit the Small Council all the time?"
" Someone we trust as much as you, Davos?"
" Surely there…
The queen's shake of her head was all the answer he was given to a question he'd not been allowed to truly ask. In truth, it was more the fact that he was being given leave to stay far more in the Stormlands than the other members of the Small Council were in their own lands.
Davos had felt as if he was being shown favor that he'd not truly earned and while he was being shown favor, according to Rickon Stark, he'd earned it too.
" My brother takes much comfort in his family, Davos." Rickon Stark said as they walked through the city, his black wolf by his side and his eagle flying somewhere over their heads.
" He does."
" He would see the same was true for you, as would I," Rickon said, warmly.
" I feel I'm letting him down, lad. As if I'm abandoning him when he needs me more than ever." Davos said, guiltily.
" Baelon doesn't feel it, Davos. Nor do I. You've given much for the realm. For my family and me. It's time you knew some time with your own."
" I see you both as family too, lad."
" As do we you, Davos."
It had taken time for Baelon to come back to himself. Yet each time he'd traveled to King's Landing, or a raven would come asking about Marya and his boys, Davos felt that he was getting there. When word came about Summerhall, only more so. To say it was a strange request would be to do it a disservice. Rebuilding a keep that had meant much to House Targaryen in of itself was not that surprising, to rebuild it for what it would be used for, very much was.
A house of education where boys and girls who were born as bastards could go and learn skills that would set them up for a decent life in the years to come. Each of them that wished so would be named as a child of Summer. A member of House Summerhall. Their mother and father were named as the king and queen of the seven kingdoms and their bastard name changed to Summer. Let any man or woman dare look down upon them again and see them as lesser while knowing they had earned the king and queen's ire in doing so.
Given the king and queen who now ruled over the Seven Kingdoms, Davos and the rest of the realm should have expected it. Instead, they'd all been stunned by it, and Davos even more so when he'd been tasked with seeing it rebuilt.
"Well not truly me," he said with a chuckle as he walked the camp and moved to the fires where their evening meals were being prepared.
Devan served as his heir and in all, he did at Storm's End and in the Stormlands, his son stood by his side. Steffon was coming to an age when his own future would need to be decided and with the king and queen's blessing, Stannis had been named the Lord of Cape Wrath. To Davos' shock, it had been Stannis that the king had requested to oversee the actual day-to-day building work of Summerhall. A task that came with great responsibility and which had earned his son a king's favor in the undertaking.
No longer was Cape Wrath a small holding for a minor House. By order of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, more lands and more men were now sworn to Davos' second son. While not a great House by any means, they were far more than the landed knights that they'd been under his rule. Davos had tried to get the king and queen to change their mind, feeling that they'd shown his House far too much favor already. His words had fallen on deaf ears and so instead, he had told Stannis in no uncertain terms that Summerhall had better be built right.
Thus far, each time he'd traveled to it, he'd found the work to be even better than expected. Stannis had found a knack for organizing men that neither of them knew he possessed. The workers themselves, most of whom were or had bastards of their own, took great pride in what the keep would one day be and in the king and queen who set them to build it. Sitting down by the fire, taking the offered bowl of stew from Steffon's hands, Davos looked forward to seeing the keep on the morrow and to seeing his son once more.
He slept like a babe, which was unusual for him. Rising to dress, Davos thought about those first few weeks back in Marya's bed. How awkward and uncomfortable they had been. It had taken them time to get used to one another again, to get comfortable with no longer sleeping alone. Then it had become second nature and now it took him time to sleep when he was not close to Marya's warm body. Leaving the tent, he broke his fast on warm porridge and they were riding within the hour. By midday they reached Summerhall and Davos looked to see that Steffon was even more excited than he was to be there.
"Stannis, father," Steffon called out and Davos looked to see his son walking his way with a small group of men as well as one very recognizable young woman.
Davos had not expected to see Missandei here, nor to see the Grand Maester and for a moment he worried that something had gone wrong in Dragons' Rest or they were displeased at Stannis for some reason. Once his worries on both counts were reassured and after a quick tour of the keep to see how it was coming along, Davos moved to speak to the young woman while Steffon got reacquainted with his brother. While Marwyn walked the grounds taking notes.
"It's good to see you, my lady. Though I'd not expected to find you here," he said to the young woman who looked around at the lands surrounding the keep with eager eyes.
"It's good to see you too, Lord Davos. Grandmaester Marwyn and I had traveled to Oldtown at their graces' behest. We stopped in Wyl and made our way here afterward. I wished to see the keep for myself to see if there were any ideas I could come up with."
"You'll be moving here?" he asked confusedly, only to get a laugh and shake of the former translator's head.
"As Mistress of Education, here and Harrenhal are among my purview, Lord Davos. A few moons ago, Torgho Nudho and I traveled to that keep and changed some of the plans. I wished to see if there was any need to do so here as well. But, no, my place is by my king and queen's side and so I shall only rarely visit."
"They are well, their graces? The young prince?"
"They are well."
"And you and Torgho Nudho?"
"Are happy, Davos," Missandei said, her smile enough to name her words true.
They ate together that night and Marwyn congratulated Stannis on how the work was progressing. Something which made his son's chest swell in pride and Steffon looked to his brother both proudly and a little bit jealously. Missandei and Marwyn stayed but another day and while a part of him wished to travel with them, he was bid to enjoy some more time with his son. Before she left, Missandei asked to speak to him in private and when he went to meet her, Davos was handed a letter from the king.
"His grace wished me to give this to you myself, Davos. He wanted you to know it came not from your king but from the man he is."
"I… does it require me to give you an answer or reply?"
"Not me, no, and not today." Missandei smiled.
Davos took far longer to open the letter than he should and even after he read it, he wasn't certain how he should reply. Long after leaving Summerhall behind and even when they arrived back at Storm's End, he still wasn't sure. After he told Marya how well Stannis was doing, the answer he sought came a little closer. Yet it wasn't until he handed his wife the letter, that his mind was finally made up.
"You know what he'll say," Marya said, almost sadly.
"Aye, I know. I know too that we could rip it up and burn it and the king would understand. It's why he phrased it how he did."
"It's too much to turn down, Davos. Too much for us to decide without telling him."
"I know you don't wish him to go, Marya. I know Baelon too, what happened in Braavos was the end of it. I doubt we'll ever see war again in the rest of our years."
"But Steffon…"
"I doubt he'll see one in the rest of his," he said and his wife nodded.
The next morning, he bid his son join him in the sparring yard. After asking one of his guards to face off against him, Davos watched the spar with a keen eye. Steffon had talent, if it was honed correctly, there was no telling how good he could become. By Baelon's side, his son could grow into a knight that would be spoken of reverently in the years to come. Should he wish it, he could become a Kingsguard to a good and true king and queen. Steffon would wear the white cloak with honor, of that Davos had no doubt. But was it what his son wished for? Was it what Davos wished for his son?
Waiting until the spar was done, Davos handed Steffon the mug of water himself. He told him that he was coming on greatly and saw how much Steffon appreciated his words. Then he spoke briefly about his brothers and could see how much his son wished to have his own moments to shine just as Devan and Stannis had. Taking the letter from his cloak, he held it in his hand. Other than the words which told him that should it not be something he wished for, Davos read the rest of it to Steffon and his eyes watched his son's expression as he did so.
"….Should he wish it, then when he's earned his knighthood a place among the white cloaks is to be his. If he wished to serve in another way, then her grace and I would see it so. I can think of no lad I'd wish for a squire more and though it was never something I sought, it is something I offer now to your son. Signed, Baelon Targaryen." Davos said, finishing the last few words.
"His grace would really take me to squire, father? He'd really seek to train me himself?" Steffon said, excitedly.
"If it was what you wished for, aye."
"And you, mother, you'll allow me to do so?"
"Again, if it was what you truly wished for, son."
"It is father, it truly is," Steffon said, happily.
Within the week they were aboard the Black Betha, he and Steffon. Marya had said her goodbyes to their son and had shed no tears when she did so. Those she'd shed the night before were known only to Davos and to herself. Devan had wished his brother all the best and had even said that he was a little jealous of him. His son and heir had said that should he wish it, then in the future, he could be their House's Master of Arms, though Davos knew full well that was not what Steffon truly wanted.
The offer of a white cloak, that as much as being trained and knighted by Baelon Targaryen. To serve as one of the seven who guarded the king, queen, and young prince. Davos had no doubt that when the time came, that would be the choice his son made. While it had not been what he'd have chosen for him, he'd still feel a father's pride to see it come. As he would to see the man his son would learn to be as he stood side by side with a lad that he'd have been more than proud to name a son of the blood, rather than the one of choice that his heart named Baelon Targaryen.