The Warg Lord (ASOIAF)(SI)

[Honaimannequin]

I hope that Trunk was waterproof..... otherwise he is going to lose all that records of properties.

 

[LazyWizard]

"What are you doing?" Gared asked curiously as he climbed over the plank and saw Jon leisurely lying on a rocking chair on the deck, basking in the sun with an old leather book.


It had been a few hours since they had witnessed the infamous pirate king jump to his death in a disappointing show of cowardice.


Gared had wanted them to stay there on the cliff for a while to see if Ravager somehow miraculously survived the waves and surfaced alive, but Jon had assured them in the surest of tones that the man would not live...


So Gared had just shrugged and left towards the castle with Oberyn and the Advisor, to gather their men, and tell them the news of Ravager's death, as well as to clean up after the battle.


Jon also gave them the job of emptying the castle of all the treasures and everything else valuable that they could find whether it be bags of spices, sugar, gold, alcohol, and even good furniture.


This is where the Advisor's knowledge of the castle came in handy for them as he knew everything there was to know about all the expensive things in the castle, so he was a great help in efficiently looting every single nook and cranny, which was quite fortunate as they had decided to leave the Stepstones that very same night, just to be safe.


Thankfully, Merchant Sam had timed it perfectly and had arrived at the port at that moment, with all of their ships and the rest of their men, making the job of moving things a lot easier.


And while his men worked inside the castle, Jon was out and about roaming the port with Merchant Sam.


Both of them were scouring all the pirate ships docked at the port, deciding whether any of them were in good enough condition to take with them, and how many they could actually take considering they didn't have too many sailors at hand.


But even when they were incredibly picky and only regarded the ships that were fast and in good condition, they were still left with about a dozen ships that they would be stupid to leave behind.


So, in the end, they reached the decision that they would have to make do and use some of the more experienced sellswords as dockhands until they reached the city of Tyrosh, where they could easily sell and offload a few of the ships to make some gold.


In fact, even the ship that Jon was relaxing on at the moment was formerly the flagship of Ravager's pirate fleet.


It was one of the most well-maintained among the pirate's lot, and after a few hours of clean-up led by a dozen men who threw away all the extreme things that the pirates kept down there to enjoy their various nefarious hobbies, Jon had claimed it as his own.


Not only was it one of the biggest ships Jon had seen, with plenty of rooms onboard, but it also had dozens of massive sails making it one of the fastest Galleon in its size category... which was all one could ask for in a ship.


The ship already had a name, called Reaper or something according to the Advisor, but Jon hadn't cared and decided to call it White Wolf from now on.


Back to the present, Jon slowly sat up when he saw that Gared wasn't the only one coming aboard his new ship.


"I don't know about here in Essos, Gared, but we call that... 'reading' in Westeros," Oberyn snorted in jest as he passed by the sellsword commander to take a seat on a chair near Jon, and right behind him arrived the duo of Merchant Sam and the Advisor enthusiastically talking with each other about one thing or other.


"Oh, is that what it is," Gared exclaimed with an exaggerated expression on his face, "Forgive me for my ignorance, prince," he said with an excessive bow, "I had just assumed that you nobles have people do these kinds of tiring things for you..." his snicker was barely hidden as he shot back at his new friend from Westeros.


"Huh! How did you know about that?" Oberyn stopped with an almost genuinely surprised expression on his face, "Have you really not been to Westeros?"


"What?!" Gared blurted out with a baffled expression, "Really?! Y-You people really have a person that reads things for you?"


Not even in his wildest imagination did Gared imagine that the lives of Westerosi nobles were so luxurious that they kept men around to read things for them.


"Yes, of course." Oberyn nodded with a completely straight face, "They are called Maesters,"


"So, that is what they are for," Gared breathed out with an enlightened expression before he suddenly turned towards Jon with a look of pity on his face, "But really... to not even be able to read for yourself, you nobles sure had it tough, huh,"


"Don't look at me! I am a bastard not a noble," Jon replied while rolling his eyes, too lazy to clarify his misunderstanding, that Oberyn was fooling around with him, "I, unfortunately, had no one to read my letters for me, so I had to do my own reading."


"But isn't your—"


Merchant Sam abruptly interrupted their conversation with a cough before Gared could go on, "Jon, I have had all of the loot deposited into our ships, and I also made sure that all the more expensive treasures were put into our main ships. So from my side, we are ready to sail off at any time,"


"Good work," Jon replied with a nonchalant expression while trying to shade his head from the sun.


"Why do you have such a bland expression on your face? Do you not want to check the loot for yourself?" Gared grumbled with a roll of his eyes, "I have never seen a man as unconcerned about his treasure as you,"


"Why would I be concerned? I trust all of you," Jon replied immediately with a smile, "Besides I already got the most important treasure in my palm," he said raising the diary in his hand.


"Uh..." Gared was quite confused with that so he turned to Oberyn and asked in a whisper, "Is that a noble thing? Something like, "Knowledge is power,' and all that?"


"Probably," Oberyn shrugged, "But I think—"


"Wait! That Diary!" The Advisor suddenly exclaimed with a surprised look on his face, "Is that what I think it is?"


"If you think that this is the diary that belonged to a not-so-famous Lannister, then, yes, that is what this is."


"So it was indeed that..." Advisor murmured with an amazed expression on his face, "I never thought I would see it again. Where did you even find it?"


"Just... lying around," Jon shrugged nonchalantly with his usual mysterious smile.


"Wait! Wait! What Lannister are you talking about? And what is this Diary?" Oberyn abruptly interrupted as he stood up with an intense expression on his face. The word Lannister was like a curse in his ears and had managed to instantly grab his attention.


"Hmm, you know that Tywin Lannister was the eldest of four brothers, right?"


"Of course, I do." Oberyn nodded impatiently, "Tytos Lannister beget four sons, Tywin, Kevan, Tygett and Gerion. But of the four of them, Tygett Lannister died of pox a decade ago, and Gerion Lannister also disappeared on one of his trips a few years ago, leaving the two of them,"


"That is right," Jon nodded before pointing towards the diary in his hands, "And this diary belongs to that very same, Gerion Lannister, the man who mysteriously disappeared in search of the greatest treasure known to man—"


"Uh, I do not mean to interrupt, but..." Gared said while scratching his cheek with a confused expression that was mirrored on Merchant Sam's face, "For those of us not in the know, can you explain who this man is, why he was in the free cities, and why are you showing this much interest in his diary?"


"Fine, let us start from the very beginning," Jon said before he sat up and cleared his throat as if he were about to go on a fun storytelling session that he used to do with his siblings when they were young, "You know about the Lannisters, right, one of the Great house of Westeros?"


"Of course," Gared immediately nodded, "They are rich ones, right? The ones with all the gold mines,"


"Yes, you are right. But what, you probably don't know, is that the Lannister name was not so great just a few decades ago, under the reign of one, Tytos Lannister, more commonly known as, 'Laughing Lion',"


"The Laughing Lion?"


"Yes. You see, he was known to be a jovial and amiable gentleman, one who was eager to please, slow to anger, and quick to forgive, he saw the good in everyone, great and small, but... while these sound like good qualities to have in a friend. The same could not be said of a Lord,"


"His bannerman called him a weak-willed man, the toothless lion, and openly ignored his orders, many of his Lords took massive loans from him that they never bothered to repay, his guests at his court were allowed to mock him to his face, even making a game out of it known as 'twisting the lion's tail',"


"But while Tytos Lannister could bear the taunts and the humiliation to their family name, his eldest son... couldn't. So when the old lion got old, fat, and weak, the young Tywin Lannister took over the family, and the first thing he wanted to do, was to clear away all the shame and disgrace his family had suffered over the years.


"And he did that by sending an ultimatum to all the vassals, to obediently arrive at Casterly Rock to repay all their debts. But while some saw the error in their ways and gave way, there were others who stubbornly resisted, thinking that the son was like his father, and wouldn't be able to do anything to them."


"Tywin Lannister proved them wrong in the most cruel and ruthless way possible," Jon said while looking into the eyes of his entrapped audience, "Of the two families that rebelled against them, the Tarbeck's were all burned to death with all their retainers inside their own castle, while the Reynes, who tried to hide in their mines, were buried under thousands of gallons of water and drowned to their death. He killed all of them indiscriminately whether they be man, woman or child, whether they be innocent or guilty."


"And so Tywin Lannister cemented his reputation as a brutal merciless lord, a man who would do anything to see his family name rise up, a man who would kill, betray, and trample on any number of people if it helped him get to his enemies, and a man who would cross any line as long as it helped him achieve his goal..."


There was silence for a few moments as everyone digested these intimate details about a man who stood at the very top of the food chain in Westeros, but Jon didn't stop for too long before starting again.


"In the large and black shadow of this man grew up his three brothers, they had to struggle fiercely to get even a little of the sun. Tygett tried to be his own man, but he could never match the reputation of Tywin Lannister, and that just made him angrier as the years went by. Kevan Lannister saw how things stood early on, so he made himself a place by Tywin's side and almost became his subordinate."


"But the youngest of the brothers didn't care for any of it, he made japes of it all, better to mock the game than to play and lose. That obviously displeased the Lord, who only saw the shadow of his father in him. This resulted in a stormy relationship between the brothers, making the estranged younger brother spend more of his time abroad on trips than at home,"


"And when you take a man like Gerion Lannister, with his rebellious, unfretted and free-spirited personality, and place the name and wealth of his family at his disposal, you get a great explorer in the making. And like every other great explorer, he too had an end goal, an achievement he wanted to conquer to cement his name into history."


"But the place he chose to achieve his goal was one that even the bravest of seafarers were terrified to explore. It was a place that was once called the centre of the world, a place that every ship captain in the world dreams of exploring one day, a place filled with enough treasure to make one richer than Braavos, that place is—"


"The Lost Kingdom of Valyria," Oberyn murmured with a frown on his face.


The Dornishman had been quite comfortable while listening to all these personal details of the Lannisters... it made them seem normal as if they were human and not monsters that he wanted to kill after giving them the taste of the cruellest torture known to men.


But, then again, if there was one Lannister that he didn't mind surviving in this world then it would have to be Gerion Lannister.


While he did not know the man too well, in the short time that they had been acquainted during his stay in the Westerlands, when the marriage talks between his sister and Jamie Lannister were held, he had gotten along well with the man with all his crass jokes, and all the travel stories that he had to tell.


In fact, he was one of the reasons Oberyn had gotten so interested in roaming the Free cities... not that he would ever admit it out aloud.


"That is right. Gerion Lannister has his name in history as one of the few who were brave (or rather suicidal) enough to lead a trip into the smoking sea, in search of his family's ancestral Valyrian steel sword, The Brightroar. But of course, like all the others, he too failed in his quest, and never returned to the land of the living," Jon finished with a sigh as if disappointed in how the story had ended.


"But... if he and his entire crew died there, how exactly did you manage to get a hold of his diary?" Gared asked with a raised eyebrow.


"Well, I got this diary, because it previously belonged in the hands of the late Pirate King, Ravager," Jon answered with a shrug, "And as for how he got it... I think the advisor is more suited to answer that,"


At that statement, all eyes curiously turned towards the well-groomed ex-pirate who nodded without a change in his expression, "I actually do know how he got it,"


"How?" all of them asked simultaneously.


The Advisor cleared his throat and without getting phased by the attention began speaking calmly, "While I did not know all these details about him and his family, the man named Gerion was actually quite well known among the pirates as a particularly juicy target with a rich backer behind him,"


"But no one managed to get their hands on him as the man was always too cunning. He only stayed with well-established local noble families who would not give him up for a few bags of gold, and also made his travel plans randomly, never giving the pirates any opening,"


"Nonetheless, they never took their eyes off of him which meant that when he made public his intentions to travel into the Valyrian peninsula, everyone's interest was immediately peaked, as they wanted to see what came out of it,"


"But while they were curious, none of them were stupid or greedy enough to go along with him, not the rich merchants, not the countless ship captains he urged, not even the few pirate captains he reached out to, no one was willing. In fact, I heard that even the men he brought from Westeros abandoned him in his foolish quest,"


"Alas, the man was nothing if not determined and instead of giving up like any sane person, he decided to purchase slaves from Volantis to cobble together a makeshift crew to man his ships and then rushed headlong into the smoking sea."


"And like everyone knows, neither he nor any of his ship ever emerged from there, which wasn't particularly surprising for anyone... but what people didn't expect, was that one of Gerion's loyal men somehow managed to survive the trip and reach a nearby ship in a half-dead state,"


"The surviving man didn't have much on him except for a few gold trinkets as well a diary that he had been entrusted with to bring back to his Lord's family in Westeros, but sadly for him things didn't go the way he had envisioned as the captain of the ship was a pirate and immediately had him killed after taking away all of his things,"


"But while the crew was disappointed with the meagre loot, the captain was one of the rare pirates, who knew how to read and the moment he realised what the diary he was holding in his hands was, he got unbelievably ecstatic. He knew that if he managed to bring this diary to the right people, he could earn more than he would in his lifetime,"


"So without wasting any time, he immediately took off towards Stepstones, after sending a letter to his brother who worked on a ship under the Pirate King, Salladhor Saan, hoping that he could make a deal in his stead for a great deal of gold,"


"But sadly, the journey was too long and boring, and one day the Captain got drunk and loose with his tongue, and let out the importance of the diary to a few of his crew members. And as you can imagine, that immediately resulted in a betrayal, mutiny and the leak of the news to other parties,"


"This meant that by the time this ship reached its destination island in Stepstones, the diary had changed quite a few hands and the captain of the ship was a completely different person, but it did not change his fate in the end as waiting for him and surrounding his ship on all sides were the pirate fleets of all three great pirate kings of that time, the Lyseni sell-sail, Salladhor Saan, the crow's-eye, Euron Greyjoy, and of course, Ravager."


"Rarely, do all three of them gather together in one place and in such great strength but that time they did. I could still clearly remember that day, when you could see ships floating in Stepstones as far as the horizon, all of them filled with pirates that were ready to tear each other apart on a single order from their captain."


"But wait! How is Euron Grejoy counted among these pirate kings," Oberyn suddenly interjected with a confused expression on his face, "I thought he was expelled from his family for doing something to his brother, so how did he have access to so many ships and subordinates,"


"He was indeed expelled," Jon answered with a frown on his face, "But with half the ships from Iron islands constantly reaving and raping the shores of Essos year around, it must not have been too hard for him to gather them under his command. After all, while the man is insane and dangerous, he is someone who is not too greedy for gold, and the captains who are willing to follow him are never lacking in loot,"


"Oh..." Oberyn nodded with an understanding look on his face and turned back to Advisor who continued with his story.


"Anyway, in the end, it did not come to a battle between the three because Salladhor Saan, a man who is more a merchant than a pirate, got hold of the ship first and wasn't too stubborn about keeping the diary for himself. Instead, he presented a solution that satisfied everyone,"


"What solution?"


"He proposed that each of them send one of their men forward to copy the content of the diary word by word so that, they would all get the chance to read its content without any bloodshed. And that was how this diary managed to reach the hands of Ravager and the other two great pirates..."


There was silence for a few moments before Oberyn suddenly snorted, "What a captivating tale... it will be the perfect bedtime story for children when I go back,"


"But wait, is that it?" Gared abruptly asked with a frown, "Is that the end?"


"What do you mean?" The advisor asked with a confused frown.


"I mean, what happened after the pirate captain got their hands on their diary?" He asked with narrowed eyes, "Did anything useful come out of it? Quite a few years must have passed since that incident, right? So did someone manage to enter the lands of Old Valyria?"


"Ah, No. I do not think so," The Advisor shook his head, "I was the one who copied this diary for Ravager so I am quite familiar with its contents. And while it was a very interesting read, I can say with certainty that it did not contain any shocking information that could help one safely navigate the smoking sea."


"The only details it contained were the mundane daily life of Gerion Lannister on his ship, how they lost their way a few days after entering the smoking sea, the numerous ways in which his crew succumbed to death one after the other while they were trying to escape, and oh, also his last will, left for his family and a man named Tyrion... that is all." The Advisor said shaking his head, "So I do not think, this diary would be any help in unravelling the secrets of Valyria."


"That is where you are wrong, my friend," Jon quietly interrupted with a small smile.


"What? What do you mean?"


"Did you know that one of those three great pirates, Euron Greyjoy, and his infamous ship Silence, has not been sighted in these waters for at least four years,"


"Oho," The eyes of Oberyn and Gared lit up with interest at this new information as they immediately understood what Jon was implying.


"I had heard about it... but that does not mean that the man went to Valyria, does it?" The Advisor asked with a frown, "He could be in any part of the world like Quarth, the Slaver's Bay, or even Asshai, that man was well known to travel all over the world,"


"Oh, no, I know for sure that the man is either already in the Smoking Sea or preparing to enter it," Jon replied with a frown on his face.


"But, why would he do that? Entering the Smoking Sea is suicidal even for someone insane like the Crow's Eye. He must know that the chance of him surviving is very small,"


"That is only true if he did not manage to find the method to traverse the lost kingdom from this diary,"


"But how... I read this diary front to back, and I am sure that I would have known if there is such knowledge in there,"


"Oh, the information is certainly in here," Jon said raising the diary with a gleam in his eyes, "You just need a specific skill set to read it,"


The Advisor was confused for a moment before his eyes widened as he realised what skill Jon was talking about.


'Magic.'


...

 

[san]

ummm first to comment since the update i guess?


a bit of a slow chapter to set things up for the next arc I assume. Interesting to see if jon actually tries to go to the smoking sea.

 

[ATP]

Jon have magic,and new ship,BUT....is sailing to Valyria worth risk?

 

[TheCuriousGuest]

So... Time to just let him do the hard part of visiting Valyria and have a few ships or certain Sea Monster ready to kill Euron when they return from Smoking Sea?

Why take risks when can let Euron get his dream of raiding Valyria, only to lose all he got when he returns? Pay the Iron Price that his people love so much.

They know he'll likely have to exhaust himself and/or his crew to fuel the magic used to survive and won't expect to immediately be attacked at his weakest.

 

[ATP]

So... Time to just let him do the hard part of visiting Valyria and have a few ships or certain Sea Monster ready to kill Euron when they return from Smoking Sea?

Why take risks when can let Euron get his dream of raiding Valyria, only to lose all he got when he returns? Pay the Iron Price thathis people love so much.

They know he'll likely have to exhaust himself and/or his crew to fuel the magic used to survive and won't expect to immediately be attacked at his weakest.

Click to shrink...

Yes,that would be both efficient and moral thing to do.

 

[LazyWizard]

A loud horn bellowed from atop the walls of the Winterfell, and almost immediately there was a quick flurry of activities as guards ran forward to open the gate.


A few minutes later, a small but wide procession consisting, of guards, hunters blacksmiths, and merchants arrived, some on horses and some on pulling carts. Leading from the very front were three Starks children, one big red-haired one and two small black-haired ones.


Each of them had bright expressions on their faces as they rode into the courtyard on their personal horses.


Robb Stark, with his tall height, and solemn expression he inherited from his father made him look more a man than a boy and on either side of him were his two excitable siblings whose eyes were restlessly searching for something.


"Sansa!! Mother!!" Bran and Arya screamed simultaneously when they finally caught sight of their target, and then without waiting for Harwin's help, both of them dismounted from their ponies and excitedly ran towards their sister and mother who were waiting for them along with their brother Rickon.


"Slow down, you two," Catelyn lightly admonished, "You should not run—" she abruptly grunted, not even able to finish her sentence as her little children, who were not so little anymore, ignored her warning and slammed into her midriff hugging her tightly.


Not to mention the mama's boy Bran, but even Arya had missed her fiercely after not seeing their mother for so long.


"Hmm, If I did not know any better, I would have guessed that you two missed your poor mother..." Catelyn commented with a quirk of her lips as she rubbed their little heads, "But that cannot be true, after all, you both had been so eager to get away from home, even going as far as to give up eating so that your father would allow you to go,"


"I-I did not miss you," Arya denied with a pout as she hurriedly pushed away from her mother as if she hadn't been the one eagerly hugging her just a few seconds ago, "Bran was the one who was always crying mother along the way,"


"No, I was not,"


"Yes, you were,"


And so they went as the sibling easily got into their familiar back and forth with their mother and their sister watching with exasperated but fond smiles on their faces.


"Ro! Ro!!" Baby Rickon squeaked excitedly and pulled away from Sansa, who was carrying him, with his hands stretched out towards his biggest red-haired brother, who was finally free and coming towards them.


"Oh, ho, Rickon, you have gotten quite big, haven't you?" Robb said exaggeratedly while taking his little brother into his arms, "I feel like I have not seen you in years," he said while rubbing the toddler's belly making him giggle in delight.


"It has not been that long, has it?" Bran said confusedly while trying to count on his fingers, "I don't think Rickon has gotten any big either..."


"We have only been gone for three moons," Arya snorted proudly as she remembered one of the merchants mentioning the time he had been away from his shop, "Robb is just being stupid,"


Robb rolled his eyes at his cheeky siblings while Cately tried to reprimand Arya, "Don't call your brother, stupid, Arya,"


"But—"


"So how was the White Harbour, Bran," Sansa interrupted loudly before the Mother-Daughter pair could go on their usual route, "I was so envious when you three got to go, and I didn't,"


"It was amazing, Sansa, and so—so! big," Bran exclaimed with stars in his eyes while stretching his hands as wide as they could go.


"Yes! Yes! And there were so many people there, that you would not believe it, Sansa," Arya jumped in with an excited expression on her face, "I have never so many people together in one place before a-and I once even got lost in the port market for a bit," she recounted with a pleased expression as if getting lost was something to be proud about.


"And everything was so white and clean,"


"A-And I saw ships that were bigger than a castle,"


"And the knights, I saw the knights, Sansa. The Knights!!" Bran jumped, excitedly waving his hands in the air, "There were so many of them,"


"I saw them too,"


"And—"


While the children were eagerly regaling their tales of their first trip outside of Winterfell, each trying to outdo the other, Robb had finished greeting his mother and asked her something that had confused him since he entered the castle, "Where is father? Is he not in Winterfell?"


"No, he is, and he was even supposed to welcome you with me but..." Catelyn replied a bit distractedly, as most of her attention had been grabbed by Arya's tale of what happened when she met the fat Lord Manderly and his granddaughters, "A letter suddenly arrived and he went away with the Maester and he had been in his solar since,"


"Letter? From whom?"


"I don't know, he did not tell me, but—"


Before Catelyn could continue, the answer to Robb's question arrived in the form of the guard captain of Winterfell.


"Lord Robb!" Jory Cassel called as he approached them from the Great Hall's direction.


"Jory, How have you been?"


"I have been well," Jory nodded with a smile before he continued in a low voice, "Your Father called you to his solar,"


Robb was confused as to why his father was calling for him the moment he entered Winterfell, but he nodded nonetheless, "I understand." he said while handing Rickon to his mother, "I will go change my clothes and then meet—"


"No, I think it would be better if you meet with him first," Jory insisted quietly.


"Oh," Robb looked surprised for a moment before complying, "Very well, lead the way, then," he said before following after Jory, leaving behind his Mother who was now interrogating Arya on her choice of attire when she presented herself before the Manderly's.


"Do you know why Father is calling for me, Jory?" he asked as they walked along the long cold hallways of the castle.


"I don't, he just told me to get you immediately," Jory replied, then he hesitated for a moment before continuing, "But he looked very serious when I saw him, so I do not think it is good news,"


"Hmm," Robb nodded nonchalantly, but he increased his pace nonetheless so that barely a few minutes passed before he was standing in front of the solar.


"Father," he called while knocking on the door, "You called for me,"


"Come in," came his father's familiar deep voice and Robb immediately opened the door, and saw his father sitting behind his desk with the Maester sitting on one of the two chairs in the front, with both of them sporting grave looks on their faces.


"Sit," he was ordered and then, not asking him about his recent trip as Robb had expected Eddard handed him a letter, "Read this,"


By now, Robb's confusion had turned into complete bewilderment as he took the letter in his hands and saw that it was from Lord Manderly.


Now more than a little nervous, wondering if the wealthiest Lord under his father had sent him a letter complaining about him or his conduct on his trip, he rolled the letter open. But the moment he read the words written on the small piece of parchment in his hands, all his confusion turned to shock and amazement, "What?! Jon killed a Pirate King?"


"So he did not tell you about this either?" Lord Stark sighed as he leaned back in his chair with a disappointed look on his face.


"I told you, My Lord," Maester Luwin said with a small shrug, "Robb would not keep such a thing from you if he had known about it,"


"I know, but... I had hoped," Eddard sighed in frustration before shaking his head.


"But wait, Father, is this news really true? Has it been confirmed? if so, why did Lord Manderly not mention this to me while I was there?" Robb asked with a dazed expression as he finally finished reading the letter and realised that in the short time that he had been gone from Winterfell, and was out of touch with Tiger, Jon's shadow cat, such a big incident had happened in Essos without his knowhow.


"He must have only gotten the news recently, as the letter arrived barely a few hours before you did, but that is not important," he said while looking at Robb with a grim look that immediately him sit up straight, "What is important, is that I had to get such an important piece of news about my own son from the Manderly's. I know how 'close' you keep in touch with Jon, so tell me, why were you not even aware that Jon was entangled with the likes of this Pirate King?"


'Damn you, Jon,' Robb internally screamed at his brother, swearing to beat the shit out of him, the next time he saw his ugly face, for putting him in this situation, "I think, Father, that Jon was probably concerned that if he told you about it, you would worry and—"


"Of course, I would worry," Eddard let out irritatedly in an unusual show of emotion, "These are not common bandits he is up against, but cruel merciless pirates, without a shred of honour or compassion in their blood. And Jon is out there fighting them with his life on the line, with me none the wiser, how am I not supposed to worry?"


There were a few seconds of silence after Eddard finished his tirade before the good Maester cleared his throat and hesitantly spoke, "I do not think Jon is at fault here, My Lord. The Northern Wolf Shipping, that your son established in Essos, is turning out to be very very lucrative, so it was obvious from the start that it would attract all kinds of greedy people... And I feel that with his intelligence, Jon must have thought things through before deciding to attack the pirates,"


The old man was quite fond of young Jon, who had spent almost half a decade learning under him in the Winterfell library, asking him all kinds of curious questions that made even the experienced maester think deeply.


"You do not understand, Maester," Eddard sighed while massaging his forehead, "If it were just one or two pirate captains, I would not be this worried but this is a well-established Pirate King we are talking about here and one that controls almost one-third of the route that goes through the Stepstones. He would have had more ships and sailors under him than even the Manderly's, and the letter clearly states that Jon not only killed the Pirate King but also dismantled his whole fleet... and that is not something to be taken lightly,"


"But, if that is true, My Lord, then where did Jon even get the man for something like this?" Maester Luwin asked with a frown on his face, "Because I did not think that the shipping company under him already possessed enough men to do this?"


"No. As far as I know, he doesn't even have close to that number of men," Eddard denied with a thoughtful look on his face as he wondered how much he even knew about his own son these days.


The moment Robb heard the Maester's question, his eyes abruptly widened as he suddenly remembered something, and after a brief moment of hesitation he decided to open his mouth and come clean, "Er, Father, I may know something about that,"


"What?" Eddard eyes immediately narrowed as he turned back to his son, "What do you mean?"


"Do you recall the massive order that all the blacksmiths in the Blacksmith Alley had been working on for the month leading to my trip to White Harbour?"


"Yes, of course. What of it?"


"Well, you remember how I had told you that the client was a sellswords company called the Company of the Rose from Essos and that it had some Northern roots" he said to which Eddard slowly nodded as he seemed to realise where his son was going with this, "I think that Jon somehow completely brought that company under him and has them working for him."


"Hmm... and how many men does this company have," Eddard asked after a few seconds of silence.


"I would guess around five hundred,"


"That should still not be enough for him to risk something like this,"


"But if you add his other skills..." Robb slowly added in a low voice with a meaningful glance that immediately had his father's eyes light up comprehension but made the Maester frown in confusion.


But before they could continue with their conversation, all three of them suddenly heard a hushed cry of delight from outside the thick door.


"What?! Jon defeated a Pirate King?" came the amazed whisper from Arya.


"Shush, Arya! Not so loud," hissed Sansa in a panicked tone.


"Robb, go deal with your siblings," Eddard said in a tired tone.


"Yes, Father," Robb said with a somewhat relieved tone as he immediately sprung up from his seat to go towards the door. He was quite thankful for his sibling's interruption, as their eavesdropping gave him the excuse to no longer face his father's intense interrogation.


After a momentary stop at the door, Robb abruptly slammed it open, startling his three siblings, who had their ears to the door, into scurrying back in panic as if they were a bunch of cats who were caught stealing milk.


"What were you doing?" Robb in a grave tone, trying his best impression of his father.


"Um,"


While Sansa and Bran guiltily looked away, Arya was just too exhilarated to care and hurriedly asked, "Is it really true, Robb? Did Jon really hunt down the pirate king?" she asked while waving her hands in the air as if she herself was wielding a sword against the said Pirate King, "Wait! Does that mean he will become the King of Pirates now?" she questioned in a hushed voice, her whole body trembling in excitement.


"Of course he will not, Pirates are evil, and since Jon killed them, he is a hero," Bran immediately refuted before turning back to look at Robb with a hopeful look, "He will become a Knight now, right?"


"I don't know," Robb said shaking his head before his voice abruptly became stern as he began chiding them, "And it is not you who should not be asking me questions," he said with his hands on his hips, "Do you not know how rude it is to listen to other people's conversation? And you, Sansa, how could you go along with them?"


"I really did not mean to, it's just... I heard that Jon sent a letter and I just came to see what he sent, but then..." Sansa's eyes wandered and her voice slowly disappeared as she tried to come up with an excuse that didn't make her look a sneak, but in the end, she couldn't come up with anything, so she just gave up, "But did Jon really do it?" she asked with a fascinated look on her face as if she was listening to one of the fairy tales books she liked reading when she was little.


"You!!" Robb was rendered speechless when even the most mature one amongst his siblings became like this, but he knew that he could not leave them like this. So, before his siblings could bombard him with anymore questions, he took a quick glance behind him and slowly closed the door, while acting as if he was still scolding them, "You three should be ashamed of yourself..."


While Robb 'dealt' with his siblings, back inside the solar, the Maester tried to comfort the distressed Eddard in the best way that he could.


"My Lord, at least we are sure that young Jon came out fine from this ordeal, otherwise Lord Manderly would have mentioned it in his letters,"


"Maybe he was fine this time, but what about the next..." Eddard replied with a wry look, "He in the midst of ruthless killers... a small mistake could easily lead him to his death. I don't know what the boy is thinking and why he is taking such big risks?"


"He is not a boy anymore, My lord," Maester Luwin said gently after a while, "That was no skirmish he fought in, but a small war— a war that he led and won, so I think he has earned the recognition from this,"


"I am afraid that other people would also see it that way..."


...


296 AC, KingsLanding


The stands in the overused tourney grounds outside the city were filled to the brim once again but unlike the usual smaller tourneys, that happened every few months at the whims of King Robert, where only the nearby nobles attended, this one was a bit more grandiose, as today was the tenth name day of Prince Joffrey Baratheon, the heir to the crown.


And the Lannister Queen would be remiss in her position as the most beautiful and most powerful (self-proclaimed) person in Westeros if she did not make a grand spectacle out of this. This meant that the full cost for this excessive splendour was borne by the Lannister family, meaning heavier prizes for the competitions, resulting in larger crowds.


News had been sent to all the major and minor noble holdings nearby, and all the people whom the queen felt were proper and important had been invited.


So considering the amount of gold listed as the prize, almost everyone who could come had arrived, whether they be the mighty longbow archers from Stormlands and Riverlands or the valiant Knights from Reach and Vale, and of course, warriors from Westerlands were the most numerous considering whose name day it was.


In fact, the only notable absentees were the warriors of Dorne and the North, but no one noticed them missing anyway...


On the stands, in the front row sat rough men shouting and screaming at the fighters below while excitedly handing their hard-earned coins to the Merchants taking bets, above them sat the noble ladies from the smaller families, gossiping with each other while sending occasional lustful glances at the men fighting in the ring, even a few brats were there standing on their seats eagerly watching the dance of death with awe in their eyes.


Inside the Royal Pavilion, the King sat at the very top with the best view of the ring. But at the moment, he was more interested in the ass of the maid serving him alcohol, than in the men fighting to entertain him.


Below him, sat his small council, with Lord Stannis and Lord Arryn in the middle, while Lord Varys and Lord Baelish sat on either side of them.


The two old lords were discussing state matters in low voices, with Baelish and Varys intermittently dropping their opinions in the form of wise comments.


The last member of the small council, Lord Renly, had left his seat in boredom and was now standing beside his royal nieces and nephew, more interested in watching the melee with them than in the conversation behind him.


"... and with Tyrosh being the closest, they were the first ones to notice, so they immediately sent a quick force to take advantage of the opening left by the sudden vacuum and take possession of the route. But it is expected that none of the other cities, especially Braavos or Volantis, would let them have this piece of pie, as no one wanted a repeat of those sky-high tariffs from history, so they all should be sending their own force to keep the others in check... this has made the whole narrow sea more turbulent than ever, and while trade has not been particularly affected yet, it is only a matter of time,"


"And you are telling me... that all this happened because of Jon Snow, Ned's boy?" Lord Arryn asked incredulously and Stannis nodded his head with a grim look on his face, "How? The boy is less than fifteen years old, how can he achieve something like that?"


"The boy is quite famous at the moment, Lord Hand," Varys suddenly entered the conversation with a small smile on his face, "From Braavos to Volantis, sailors in almost every port city in West Essos know his name now. His shipping company is even more famous amongst the wealthy nobles and merchants of the free cities. My little birds tell me that the space on his ships had been booked in advance for months," he then leaned forward and whispered as if telling them a big secret, "I have heard that they are even calling him the next Sea Snake,"


"Who are 'they'?" Petyr Baelish asked with a thin smile on his face.


"Merchants, Sailors, Captains and even Pirates," Varys replied without skipping a beat, "That reminds me, Lord Baelish, did you not comment that the boy is just a lucky bastard who was reaching for more than he could digest and that he will sink sooner or later," he asked with a very innocent look on his face, "It seems your prediction turned out to be wrong this time. Not only did the boy not sink, but he is thriving as if he were a fish in the sea,"


Petyr's lips twitched as he replied, "I do not recall saying that,"


"You don't? Ah, then I must have remembered incorrectly," Varys replied with a simpering laugh, that immediately made Stannis grit his teeth in annoyance and regret his decision of taking a seat beside the eunuch.


"Regardless," Lord Arryn cleared his throat and tried to bring the conversation back to the topic, "Lord Stannis, do you think this incident... would also affect the trade between Westeros and Essos?"


"Most probably, yes. But how much of an effect it would have is hard to say.," Stannis frowned before shaking his head, "The boy has been very open about his Westerosi roots, so it would be very easy for the Nobles and Keyholders of Essos to assume that we are backing all of his... adventures, and that could make them more wary of us,"


"Ah! This is a mess," The old Lord Hand groaned while massaging his forehead, "All this just because the boy killed some pirate whose name I have never even heard of,"


While Jon Arryn was quite knowledgeable about the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms, the same could not be said of the lands and seas outside of it, so it was hard for him to comprehend the intricate webs and the delicate balance that lay between the free cities.


"It is not the pirate who is important, My lord, but the route that the pirate controlled involved an important choke point through the Stepsotnes, the most valuable sea route in the Narrow Sea," Petyr Baelish explained with narrowed eyes, "If the boy has the ambition to follow the likes of Daemon Targyrean, then he could very well establish himself on that little island and call himself the King of Stepstones and Narrow Sea," he finished with a smirk that implied that what he was not saying that as a compliment.


"That would definitely not happen," Lord Arryn immediately denied with a shake of his head, "Ned would not allow it,"


"Ned?! Did you Ned?" The good King Robert who had been until now completely ignoring the discussion as useless gossiping, immediately latched on to the name of his best friend and leaned forward with a curious look on his face, "What would Ned not allow?"


Jon Arryn sighed in vexation, thinking that his former ward was only ever interested in state matters when it concerned the people he liked, but he turned back and slowly explained everything nonetheless, such was his job.


And the moment his Lord Hand finished explaining, the King burst out laughing, "Haha, I knew that the boy was going to big when you told me about him in that last meeting, but even I did not expect that he would make his name this soon... and to do it by hunting down a Pirate King and his crew of degenerates. Ha! This is the kind of thing they write songs about, the boy is living the life," he finished with a hint of envy in his voice.


The Kingsguard on guarding duty that day was the Kingslayer, and having heard more than enough praises from these small council members about that Northerner's bastard, he couldn't stop himself from commenting, "Surely Lord Varys was exaggerating the boy's tales, you grace. He is barely fourteen, isn't he, so how could he have the ability to fight and lead a battle against pirates? Or maybe, he just hid at the back and let his father's men do the job for him," he finished with a snort.


"He is a northerner, Lannister, and they don't order their men from the back like cowards," King Robert retorted before Varys could and while he did not say it, it was heavily implied that he wanted to add, 'Unlike your father,' at the end.


"You are right of course, your grace," Varys said with a small smile and a bow, "As far as my little birds tell me, Jon Snow did not in fact receive any help from his father, all the boy seems to have used in this endeavour of his were the sailors under him as well as a small sellswords company with faint Northern roots dating back to the time of Aegon Targaryen I,"


"Ha! I knew it!" he said while looking smugly at the kingslayer whose lips twitched in annoyance but he nodded nonetheless acknowledging his loss, "Ah! This won't do, we need to reward the boy," he said with a thoughtful frown on his face before he abruptly slapped his meaty palm on his thigh, "I know! we should knight the boy," he announced in excitement.


This startled the small council members who looked at each other with helpless looks on their faces, and once again it fell onto the bent shoulder of old Jon Arryn to dissuade his king from his stupidity, "I do not think that is appropriate, your grace. First of all, the boy is barely fourteen years old, and even the youngest knight in history—" his eyes flickered to Jamie Lannister who had stiff look on his face, "—was 15 years old before he was knighted,"


"That's even better, the title of youngest knight ever would be perfect for him," the more the king thought about the more excited he got, "We could make an event out of it, even organise a big tourney, haha,"


Thankfully the queen had already left, after getting irritated by the King's promiscuity, otherwise who knows how livid she would get if she knew that her Lord husband was planning a Tourney in the honour of some Northern bastard while completely ignoring the one that was happening on her son's name day.


"But your grace, you need to remember that the boy is from the North and he surely follows the Old Gods, so maybe he would not even agree to be knighted,"


"He will agree to it when he knows that it is the order of his king," Robert said stubbornly, "Besides he is a bastard, and like all bastards, he probably craves name and recognition more than anything, so you just need to send him a letter and he will come running,"


"And how you grace..." Petyr Baelish suddenly interjected with a raised eyebrow, "Do you want us to send this letter? Because, as far as I know, this Jon Snow, is a wanderer who spends more time at sea than on land. He could be in any of the free cities at any time, how can we even reach him,"


"I don't care about that," Robert huffed waving his hands impatiently, "Varys, it is your job to get the news to the boy and have him present in Kingslanding,"


"As you wish, your grace," Varys said simply with an unperturbed look on his face.


"Ah, maybe this would finally force that cold brute in the North to move from his seat and come visit me," The king murmured in a wistful tone before he once again got distracted with the maid standing behind him.


///

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter. Great story as always

 

[ATP]

@LazyWizard , thanks for great chapter.
Jon could become knight if it made King happy - but he could use trip to Westeros to kill Mountain...problem is,how to do so without people knowing that he killed him.
Maybe go to Casterly Rock to deliver diary of his brother? he do not need it anymore.

 

[LazyWizard]

Inside the spacious cabin of his new ship, the White Wolf, Jon was sitting cross-legged on his bed.


His hands were on his thighs in front of his stomach, his back leaning against the wall, and his eyes, while wide open, had no pupils inside them, showing two scary unseeing eyes to the outside world.


Ever since Jon had mastered the art of conscious warging, he rarely went into the state of deep warging with Frost, his ice eagle, where his main body became completely defenceless and unaware of his surroundings.


However, whenever the distance becomes particularly large or if he has to cross a special monument like The Wall, Jon is forced to send his consciousness deep inside Frost to be able to see things clearly.


Today, happened to be the day of his weekly check-up on how things were coming along with his business partners beyond the wall.


And usually, he did these surveys during the night when there was less risk to his vulnerable human body.


But he sent Frost during the day this time for two reasons, firstly, his fleet of ships was just about to reach the city of Braavos, meaning that there was little chance of a pirate attack disturbing his concentration.


And secondly, like anyone who's ever seen a map of Essos and Westeros knows, Braavos was one of the cities closest to North in Essos, which meant that with her speed, Frost had more than enough time to make a round trip before their ships even reached the port.


Speaking of which, at that moment, Jon finally saw through his friend's eyes as the majestic wonder known as the Wall appeared in his sight.


No matter how many times Jon saw it, he was always amazed by it and could not comprehend the sheer tenacity the Northerners in history must have had to create a marvel like this.


While taking in the beauty of the Wall, he caught sight of the little black structure embedded against the foot of the Wall, commonly known as Castle black.


With Frost's keen eyes, Jon could easily make out the hundreds of black brothers moving to and fro with enthusiasm in their steps... one would have been hard-pressed to find such energy in anyone in this miserable place just a few years ago.


Everywhere he looked, he could see men with wooden planks and hammers in their hands going about repairing every room, stairs, and structure that needed it, and their diligence was already showing signs as the castle looked sturdier than it had been in a century.


One could find many reasons for this sudden emergence of vitality on the wall, such as the North as a whole becoming richer, resulting in the Lords getting more taxes and becoming more generous in their donations to the Wall, or the continued absence of any prominent Wildling or Iron Born attack in such a long time had left most men with too much free time on their hands.


But no matter from which angle you looked at it, all the changes always pointed to Jon as their source. And everyone in the North was well aware of it...


Because, after all, his sailors under the command of Dacey Mormont were still regularly sending supplies to the wall, with no strings attached.


These weekly supplies meant that not only were the Men in this dreary place better fed but that they also had enough timber, nails and other things to work with, leaving them with no excuse not to work on repairs, and since it was still 'summer' at its peak, even at the wall, the work was happening at a fast pace.


Even a treacherous place such as the top of the Wall was bustling with men moving up and down using the newly repaired lift.


Frost was thankfully hundreds of feet higher than even the tallest portion of the Wall, so there was no chance of any of Night's Watch members catching sight of her.


A few seconds later, they finally flew past the Wall, and the moment Frost crossed over it, Jon felt his connection with her abruptly become muffled... it felt as if he was passing through a field that kept interfering with their bond.


Fortunately, the obstruction did not last long, and barely a hundred meters away from the wall, as if they had passed some sort of check, the connection again became as clear as it was before.


Jon's heart beat furiously every time he experienced this, but he was never too worried about Frost during their separation because he knew that there was nothing in the sky that could even remotely come close to hurting his friend.


After all, birds like ravens or eagles could not even survive the cold winds that occupied the heights that Frost flew at, so it did not matter if they lost contact for a few minutes.


With the connection stable once again, Jon finally caught sight of the breathtaking view of the untamed wilderness known as the True North.


The barren landscape filled with untouched mountains, rivers, and forests, with each of them covered in a thick blanket of snow, took over his entire view.


The sheer beauty of it was mesmerizing to him, no matter how many times Jon saw it. There was just something awe-inspiring about nature that had not been sullied by humans.


Even the few wildlings who acted as informants for the Night's Watch and lived relatively closer to the wall, such as Caster and his 'wives', had either been taken care of or been quietly moved away by Mance, leaving the place almost completely devoid of humans.


And while he saw a few rangers here and there, they were few and far between.


The lack of any hostility from the wildlings had left them completely blind, and while it did unsettle the commander, the same could not be said about his subordinates, as they were more than happy to forget about their sworn enemies and leave them to their devices, especially with all the work on their hands.


A short while later, Jon crossed an absurdly massive mountain range, and the moment he did, he caught sight of the valley where the King-Beyond-The-Wall had decided to set up his kingdom.


Tents upon tents made of animal hides, furs and scavenged wood were scattered haphazardly as far as the eye could see. Smoke from dozens of fires curled into the sky, mingling with the crisp northern air.


Men, Women, children, and even giants roamed freely, covered in their weathered but thick clothes.


Animals of all kinds, such as goats, sheep, horses, and large shaggy dogs, prowled between the tents, growling and mewing at all passersby. There were even a few Mammoths skirting at the edges being cared for by the friendly giants.


All these different clans of freefolk, who would have been at each other's throats a few years ago, were now going about their jobs with hardly any fights (as they don't consider it a proper fight until someone loses a limb or two)


Some were skinning animals, some sharpening their weapon, and others were making arrows; there was hardly anyone sitting idly by.


From what Jon could notice, the population of this sprawling wildling camp had increased once again since the time he had last seen it, which meant that Mance had probably managed to persuade a few more of the neighbouring tribes.


Enough time had passed by now that even the more stubborn tribes, who had been reluctant to join them, could see that all the promises that Mance had made were kept and that not only was he providing a safe shelter to everyone, but everyone who came under his camp was being provided with enough food for them and their families to survive.


In the dreary future of their people that was once shrouded in the darkest of nights, Mance Rayder presented the faint light of hope for them to escape their destiny.


At the very end of the camp, just before the forest cover started, lay the biggest and most 'luxurious' tent of all.


A few guards vigilantly patrolled the outside of this tent. Though if anyone dared to call them 'guards' would get their ass handed to them, because they were, after all, not guards but free men who were here by their own will to protect their king.


Frost flew circles above the tent while slowly lowering her height towards warmer air.


It took a few minutes, but eventually, one of the wildling guards happened to catch sight of her majestic form from the corner of his eye, and his reaction, while extreme, was expected.


His mouth opened in a soundless scream as he fell onto his butt while pointing a shaky finger towards the sky, with his mouth opening and closing as if unable to believe what he was seeing.


It did not take long for the others to take notice of this anomaly, and almost simultaneously, they raised their weapons while vigilantly searching the sky for the source of danger.


Thankfully, one of the older guards, who had followed Mance for a long time, had seen Frost on one of her previous trips and knew what she represented, so he immediately lowered his bow in relief before making the others do the same.


After barking an order at a nearby wildling who immediately went into the tent, he turned to his fellow freefolk and scoffed at their scared expression.


He then began smugly berating them for being cowards who were getting terrified of a simple bird, as if he hadn't reacted the same when he saw the deadly visage of Frost for the first time.


The commotion outside the King's tent had attracted the attention of nearby wildlings, who began gathering in droves to find out what the clamour was about, and the moment they caught sight of the lofty queen of sky flying above their heads, gasps rang through the crowd as they finally got to see the mythical bird that they had only heard rumours about.


Fortunately, before the panic could fully set in amongst them and cause something like a stampede, Mance Rayder burst out of the tent with a flustered expression on his face.


Following behind him were the Men and Women whom Jon recognised as the leaders of various Freefolk tribes, such as Styr, the Magnar of Thenn, Harma Dogshead, Mother Mole, and of course, Tormund Giantsbane.


From the looks of it, the King-Beyond-The-Wall had been in an important meeting with his fellow leaders when he was disturbed by the strange news of the arrival of Jon's flying friend.


But even though Mance was a little surprised by Jon's unexpected visit during the day, instead ofat night, he was not caught too off guard, as he had already prepared all the reports he needed to send with Jon this time.


These so-called reports were just parchments upon parchments filled with the list of all the goods that they had managed to extract from the North in this period of time, whether they be furs, wood, rare herbs or the bags of low-quality silver that they had managed to excavate from their new mine.


In addition to these, the parchments also contained the number of various supplies that the wildling camp needed delivered when the next shipment arrived, these included various basic necessities such as grains, animal feeds, salt, and, of course, good quality steel tools.


This information exchange was very necessary because Dacey and her fleet were most of the time too busy with matters in Reach to visit the true North themselves.


So they used Val and the small crew that she had assembled from the Wildlings as an intermediary, and depending on the quantity of goods exchanged during that period, Dacey had to add or reduce the number of ships loaned to Val during that supply run.


And, even though in the beginning they had worked based on a rough barter system, things were a lot cleaner now.


Jon had Dacey keep a proper record of everything they had procured from the True North, how much they sold it for in the South, how much their own costs were, and after subtracting a hefty profit from the sum, the rest was used to buy the goods for the Wildlings, so it was no longer a charity in any sense.


And any excess gold left after all that was held by Jon in the name of Mance Rayder and the Wildlings as a collective, because as the wildling leader once said to him, the Freefolk had little use for these soft metals while struggling against the bitter cold of the True North.


The parchment of course, also contained any news that Mance felt was necessary for Jon to know, things such as the current wildling population, the names of the various tribes who were still resisting the call to gather, the current state of the task Jon gave him of searching for a pregnant direwolf mother, and of course, if there were any sighting of their... true enemy.


It took a while, but Mance eventually stopped gawking at the sky and turned towards the crowd of wildlings, who were still murmuring and pointing towards the sky like dumb monkeys. He opened his mouth and let out a fierce bellow in the Old Tongue, calling them to calm down.


His shout awoke his guards, who immediately went to work and began pushing the reluctant wildlings away from the tent.


Slowly but surely, a large enough space was cleared in front of the tent with the crowd of wildlings silently looking on without any intention to leave.


While all this was happening, Mance had gone inside his tent to bring out a thick roll of parchment, and then, after a quick look towards the sky, he slowly walked towards the centre of the clearing and placed the parchments on the ground before backing away.


Frost circled the sky a few more times as if enjoying the looks of awe in the eyes of these two-legged savages, before she finally lowered herself and decided to land, precisely on the ground beside a roll of parchment.


Even with her wings tucked beside her and standing on her claws, Frost was still taller than any of the men or women standing in the field, that is, of course, not counting the giants.


By this time, quite a large crowd had gathered and every single one of them had their eyes glued to the majestic creature standing in front of them, unconsciously holding their breath.


Some looked at her reverently as if she were a god, while others looked at her with trepidation, their instincts screaming at them that the being in front of them was a deadly predator capable of taking their lives in an instant.


The reason Jon took the risk of having Frost land amidst this crowd of rough wildlings, with a bow or a spear in every other hand, was not because he was arrogant enough to think that Frost was somehow invincible and that she would not be hurt even if they shot hundreds of arrows at her, because that would be stupid as there was nothing in this world that was unbeatable, not even dragons.


But he still did it because only after seeing Frost with their own eyes, would these wildlings be able to verify that the rumours were actually true that there really was a legendary Southerner named Jon who commanded a legion of beasts and birds, one of which was The Kraken, god of sea, who had toyed with Rattleshirt as if he was a child.


It would make things easier for Mance in the future, as even the unruliest of wildlings weren't able to keep their legs from trembling when Frost's eyes passed over them, and he was sure that they would all be very willing to follow their king's order from now on and work hard to earn their keep instead of lazing around.


But it was nonetheless true that there was a lot of danger involved in letting Frost come out here in front of all of them, and in fact, Jon would not have even considered doing this if his friend hadn't recently acquired a trump card that would make mob attacks almost useless against her.


It had happened barely a few weeks ago when Frost was out hunting a small bear in an unnamed Forest in the North.


She had, of course, been very successful in her ambush and had managed to turn the little bear's brain into mush with a single peck of her deadly beak. But trouble arrived in the form of a fierce roar just as she was about to fly away with the game in her claws.


She immediately looked up only to find a much, much larger bear barreling towards her with the fury of a winter storm.


Now, while Frost was supremely confident in her speed and knew that she could easily get away long before the bear even arrived near her, the same could not be said if she also had to carry her hard-earned (not that hard actually) prize with her as the heavy burden would slow her down too much, even with her wing size.


So she had to make a quick decision, on whether to give up her game, and fly away like a coward in defeat or to stand her ground spread her wings, raise her claws to fight and hope that the big angry bear gets scared away because she knew that if it came to battle, she would not be able to win, at least not easily, what with the beast's massive size.


One wouldn't be able to guess from her normal interactions with Jon, but Frost was a very prideful being who considered herself the mightiest creature alive in this world and looked down on other beasts, including the two-legged, as lesser beings.


So being forced to give up her prey and flee in fear because of a dumb bear made her feel incredibly humiliated.


In her panic and frustration at her inability to come up with a good enough solution, Frost became increasingly agitated.


And then, when the Bear was barely a few meters away from her, and when her rage was at its peak, she felt like something was bubbling up inside her as if all of her pent-up aggression wanted to blast out of her...


And in the end, she did not restrict it and instead, she let go...


And it all came bursting out of her in the form of a primal piercing cry.


This cry was very different from her normal shrieks, which she used to intimidate and establish her dominance over other animals. It was a more brutal, more ancient kind of cry that had not been heard in this world for centuries.


In her anger and frustration, Frost had somehow managed to unearth an ancestral survival skill that had been hidden deep inside her genes until now.


The cry did not last very long, but it still left Frost very winde,d and when she eventually closed her beak and looked at the scene in front of her, she was bewildered to find that her enemy, the black bear, had for some reason crashed into the ground.


For a few moments, she just stood there with a confused look in her eyes, wondering why the stupid bear was just lying there, twitching.


At first, she assumed that it was some kind of a trick to get her to lower her guard, but then the stupid bear suddenly began bleeding from its eyes, nose, and its ears, scaring the shit out of her.


Very much unnerved by the strange happenings now, Frost immediately decided to call upon Jon, her two-legged friend, as she knew that he was a very smart man and that he would be able to come up with some kind of explanation for her.


When a perplexed Jon eventually arrived and learned the gist of the situation from Frost, through images and feelings, he, too, at first, was taken aback by the strange phenomena of the bear's abrupt death.


But then he began to look at the surroundings closely and almost immediately he noticed that the bear was not the only casualty here, as many small critters in the nearby vicinity, such as a squirrel, a snake and even a bird, were showing the exact same symptoms of twitching bodies and bleeding orifices.


At that very moment, a strange hypothesis began to arise in his mind.


It felt too much like a wild fantasy to be the truth, but that was the only way that Jon could make sense of the situation in front of him.


Now, more than a little excited about the prospects of Frost's strange new skill, Jon immediately urged his good friend to change their location and to try her cry once again.


Frost was a bit reluctant at first, as this ability had an incredibly tiring effect on her body, but she couldn't resist Jon's persuasion for too long and had to follow his request.


And the result was... everything that Jon had hoped for.


They did three distinct tests in different environments on all kinds of creatures, and the conclusion was that not a single one of them, whether they be a deer, a boar, a bird, or even a fucking pack of wolves, could survive her piercing cry.


In his excitement, Jon wanted to continue until they had tested it on all the animals present in that forest, but the three cries left Frost so exhausted that she even had trouble flying, so he had to reluctantly put a stop to his experiments.


But it did not matter too much in the end, because Jon was already very sure that his buddy, his best friend, his one-of-a-kind magical eagle, had somehow miraculously managed to acquire a legendary Area of Effect ability.


It was an ability that felt as if it came straight out of the wet dream of a game developer from his previous world.


While there were some cons, such as the range of its effects not being very large, the power of the attack decreasing exponentially as the distance increased, and Frost not being able to use it too many times, they were all very minor.


One would be hard-pressed to deny that it was a skill that could make one almost invincible, especially in this low-tier magic world.


And while this cry attack had not been tested on humans yet, Jon could not think of any reason why it wouldn't work, because, after all, humans were, in the end, nothing more than large monkeys.


This incidental discovery was the main reason behind Jon's confidence in having Frost land in the midst of the Wildling camp without worrying, as he knew that a single attack from her would leave all of her assailants regretting their life choices.


Thankfully, though, none of the wildlings were stupid enough to try anything, and Frost was able to safely take away the roll of parchment left by Mance on the ground.


After a quick nod at Mance, Jon had Frost take off and start back her journey towards the South under the awe-filled eyes of the Wildlings.


But just as Frost passed the Wall and Jon was wondering if he had enough time for a quick visit to Winterfell for a reunion, his main body suddenly heard a knock on the door of his cabin.


'I thought I told them not to disturb me,' Jon thought with a frown on his face, but he came out of the deep warging state nonetheless.


After telling Frost to make her way back to him before sunset, Jon stood up from his bed and walked to the door where the knocking had gotten a bit urgent by now.


"What happened?" He asked curiously as he opened the door, only to see Bran, the commander's son, standing there with a weird expression, "Did we reach Braavos, already?"


"No, not yet," he replied while shaking his head, still maintaining that strange but excited expression on his face, "But we can already see the shore from the deck, so they are calling for you."


"That's it?" he asked exasperatedly as he came out of his room, "Is this the first time you all came to Braavos? Did you all get too excited after seeing the Titans in all their glory?" he asked with a snort as the young boy, who was actually older than Jon, led him towards the deck.


"No... we have been to Braavos before," he replied slowly while leading him up towards the deck, "It is just that, we have never been on the receiving end of such an... enthusiastic reception before,"


"Huh? What enthu—" Jon's question abruptly got caught in his throat as he finally caught sight of the reception his friend was talking about.


There, standing on the deck, in front of him were almost all of the crew, including Gared, Oberyn and The Advisor, who stood at the very forefront.


And without exception, every single one of them had their eyes glued towards the port in the distance, where a sea of men, women and children were looking excitedly towards their fleet of ships as if they were awaiting the arrival of Aegon the Conqueror.


"How did they even know?" Jon mumbled as he came to stand beside Oberyn, who was closely monitoring the excitement on the coast through a far-eye.


"Well, what else did you expect?' Gared answered with a somewhat nervous glance at the crowd that was large enough to completely swallow his completely of sellswords, "We did let quite a few of those pirates escape to other islands in Stepstones during the night attack, and not to mention our brief stay at Tyrosh to sell those 'excess' pirate ships... the news was bound to spread sooner or later,"


"No, I am not talking about that," Jon replied while shaking his head, "I am just curious about how these people even knew that our ships were going to arrive on this exact day..."


"Oh, I know who you can blame for that," Oberyn quipped with an amused look in his eyes as he took off the far-eye and handed it over to Jon, "Look at the very front. You will find your fat friend smushed in between some guards,"


"What?" Jon asked reflexively as he hurriedly put the far-eye on to look in at the shore, and sure enough, his friend, Samwell Tarly, was standing there at the very edge of the port looking nervously at the crowd around him as if he was expecting them to jump at him at any moment.


Thankfully, he also caught sight of Darrio the Banker, his puppet in the Iron Bank, standing beside him, which meant that the guards, in the protective sphere around them, were called by him.


It only took a single look at his friend's face for Jon to know that Oberyn's hypothesis was probably correct and that Sam was the leak of their fleet's arrival time.


Even though his friend from Westeros had slimmed down after months of training, had grown taller, and become muscular enough to pass for a Mercenary, the improvements were all physical, and on the inside, he was still very much a pushover.


In fact, Jon could easily imagine the scene of a forceful merchant slowly extracting the information out of his friend through sweet talk, coercion, and false promises.


And it would not have taken too long for the information to spread from there, because one can hardly expect a Merchant to keep his mouth shut and not profit from a secret.


"But still, this is too much, isn't it?" Gared muttered while pointing at the massive turnout of people at the port, "Why are so many people willing to waste their time standing in the sun just to see us? It is not like we will be handing out free money... Do these people not have anything better to do?"


"They probably don't," Jon muttered with a wry smile, as he knew how entertainment-starved the small folk in this world were.


"You should look at it from their perspective," Oberyn added with a thinking expression on his face, "They must have all been very shocked when they first learned that their mighty fleet of Braavosi warships were not only attacked but also fled in defeat from pirates, and then to add to their humiliation, they then learned that instead of taking revenge themselves, all the Iron Bank was going to do was to put up a bounty on him, and hope that someone kills him, silently admitting that they would not be able to locate, and defeat this cruel Pirate King and his crew,"


"But then came the news that Jon Snow," he exclaimed while exaggeratedly patting Jon's shoulder with a smirk, "the famous captain from Westeros, who had already been the talk of the town because of his shipping company, had not only managed to kill the Pirate King but also completely wiped out his fleet, making the ocean a much safer place for everyone,"


"That's a bit of an exaggeration..." Jon muttered, but Oberyn ignored him and continued.


"Now, imagine these tales spreading through the local taverns and brothels for days with each retelling adding a bit of embellishment to the stories," he said with an animated expression on his face, "So, of course, these people would be excited to see the mysterious man from Westeros and his heroic crew who had vanquished the evil Pirate King,"


"Ah," Gared nodded with a look of comprehension, "Then, their excitement makes a bit more sense..."


"Alas, I would not be able to join in the festivities," Oberyn mumbled with a disappointed sigh.


"Huh? What?" Gared asked with a confused expression as the sound of the crowd was starting to reach them by now, making it hard for him to hear Oberyn.


"Nothing," he replied while shaking his head before turning towards his friend from the North, "Jon, can I talk to you for a moment?"


"Huh? Sure," Jon nodded distractedly, before taking the far-eye off of his eye and following the Dornish prince towards a quiet corner.


"What's wrong? Something happened?"


"Nothing's wrong," Oberyn replied while looking at Jon with a rueful smile on his face, "I just wanted to tell you... that it is time for us to part ways."


Jon looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding, and he turned towards the bustling with a complicated look on his face, "Because of them,"


"Hm," Oberyn nodded in confirmation, "You have been able to keep under the radar until now somehow, but I do not think that would be viable any longer... In fact, I can bet you that there are more than a couple of Varys' little birds mingling among the crowd out there, just waiting to catch a glimpse of you and report on all your actions,"


"You're most probably right about that," Jon conceded with a sigh, 'And not to mention the others,' he thought as the images of all the various cunning nobles from Westeros appeared in his mind.


"And we do not want our connections to be known 'publicly', if we want to go through with the plan that you told me about,"


"Oh, so you believe in my ability now," Jon asked with a raised eyebrow.


"It is hard not to," Oberyn shrugged helplessly as if it was completely out of his control, "You had sounded like a mad-man when you told me that you could get us into the Westerlands, kill Tywin Lannister's dogs and then quietly get us out, with the Lannisters and their lackeys none the wiser,"


"And now..."


"Now? Well, now that I have watched you do the things, that you did in Stepstones," he replied with a reminiscing expression on his face, "I believe there are very few things in the world, that I would not think you capable of accomplishing," he praised without a hint of exaggeration, "So now that I know your plan is feasible, I think it is high time for me to head home, and prepare for our journey into the lion's den so that I will be ready when you come to pick me up,"


"And how exactly do you intend to 'prepare'?"


"Oh, you know the usual," Oberyn replied as he rotated the kinks out of his shoulder, "Some exercises here and there, some training bouts with my brother's guard, a couple of bandit extermination, and of course, plenty of meat, that should be enough to get my strength and stamina back up to my peak,"


"Ah, you don't need to worry that much. Because if you get tired and your joints give up halfway through, then I will be there to pick up the slack after you, old man," Jon teased with an innocent smile on his face.


Oberyn snorted disdainfully at that, "You may be younger than me, boy, but I bet I can still run circles around you."


"Yes, yes, sure you can," Jon replied sarcastically.


"Do you want to bet on it?" Oberyn asked with a challenging gleam in his eyes, "After all, we still have not had a proper fight between us."


"Did we not?" Jon asked with a raised eyebrow, "Because if I remember correctly, then—"


"A proper one," Oberyn interrupted forcefully, "Without you using your bow or any kind of poison," he said, not a hint of embarrassment on his face.


"Sure, I can give you as many handicaps as you want," he said in a magnanimous tone, that irritated the Dornish prince like nothing else.


"Ugh, I can not wait to wipe that cocky smirk off of your face," he said, now more than sufficiently motivated to train his hardest for their future match.


"I will look forward to it," he said smugly, still not letting off his provocations, "Oh, and before I forget," Jon said as he suddenly remembered something and began rummaging through his pockets before he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, "Take this,"


"Huh? What is this?" Oberyn asked while opening the paper, only to see a list consisting of various dos and don'ts.


1. Avoid Rich meats and Seafood such as...


2. Increase intake of green vegetables and fruits(such as figs, dates, and citrus fruits) and...


3. Drink Turmeric or Ginger tea daily...


4. Limit alcohol consumption, especially sweet wine and...


...


"Your brother is suffering from Gout, right?" Jon asked, and Oberyn nodded with a confused look on his face, "Well, this here is a cure that I remember reading in an old book in the Winterfell library years ago, so I had someone send it to me."


That was, of course, not true as there was no such book in Winterfell, but that was the best excuse Jon could come up with.


The actual source of this so-called cure was a medical webnovel that Jon had read in his previous life, and he vaguely remembered the protagonist mentioning something about Gout not being an incurable disease and that it could be brought under control just through some dietary changes.


While he was not sure if this cure would work as well as it had in the novel, where it let a man run a marathon after just a few months of it, he could at least be sure that it would only result in positive changes.


"And you think that this 'cure' would actually work when even the best Maesters from Citadel were not able to do anything?"


"As I said, this is an ancient remedy... meaning that it would not have been written down if it did not actually work,"


"If you say so," Oberyn replied, still looking a bit sceptical but he put the parchment in his pocket nonetheless, "Well, if nothing else, these remedies at least don't look that hard to implement... except for the spicy food part, because like any other proper Dornish man, my brother is very fond of his spices and to have him abstain from it would be very hard,"


"Oh, I am sure you can persuade him with your wiles,"


"Yes, yes, I am a very cunning man with all kinds of schemes, and you are just the epitome of innocence," Oberyn replied, rolling his eyes.


"I am glad you finally accepted the truth," Jon said, nodding his head sagely.


Oberyn gave Jon the stinky eye before wryly shaking his head, "Farewell then, Jon Snow," he said, raising his right hand, "Hopefully, I will see you soon."


"You are leaving already?" he asked confusedly, as he shook the hand of his only friend from the opposite side of Westeros.


"Yes. I will take Obara and sneak away on a smaller boat. After all, I do not want to come between you and the crowd's adulations for you," he said with a small smile before turning around and calling for his daughter, who was standing at the front conversing with Bran, "Obara! Come here,"


'I will miss him," Jon thought with a forlorn look on his face as he looked at the back of the Dornish prince.


There were very few people in this world who were as fun to be around as the Red Viper, and with him gone, life would go back to being about all work and dull, boring days at sea.


A few seconds later, Jon shook off his despondence and turned towards the port with a revived look on his face, 'Let us see what these people have in store for me,' he thought as their ships slowly approached the shore.


///

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[ATP]

Thanks for chapter.
Oberyn is right,better to not be seen with Jon.
Remember to tell mercs,that Oberyn do not participated.

But - it could be too late for Varys,he have enough contacts in Essoss to knew truth.Althought...he should be silent about that,he want peace for now.
Another problem - Sam.He should get silence training.Not mention,now his father where his son is.Maybe he could come back as warrior?

P.S it is nice,that Frost get Nazgul shriek!

 

[LazyWizard]

Samwell Tarly


"Do not worry too much, my friend. It wasn't your fault," Darrio comforted while patting Sam's shoulder, "And I do not think Jon would blame you either,"


"I know he would not," Sam replied, shaking his head as his fingers nervously fiddled with the letters in his pocket, "I just did not want to disappoint him, but now... all of this happened because of my carelessness," he said morosely while looking around at the crowd of spectators who had gotten even more eager when they saw Jon's ship lower its anchor.


"These people would have found out sooner or later, even without your... help," Darrio, the banker, replied with a smile, "Especially the merchants, as I am sure that quite a few of them had their informants on the nearby ports on alert, to be on the lookout for your ships after they heard the news of the decimation of the Ravager pirates. Besides getting all this attention might not be a bad thing in the end..."


'At least, not for me,' he mused with a satisfied look on his face.


If, in the beginning, Darrio had been resentful of the fact that he had been forced to become a lackey of an unknown brat from Westeros, then all of that dissatisfaction had vanished from his mind by now, leaving behind only admiration for the man named Jon Snow, who had accomplished so much in such a short time.


Ever since his family had found out that the up-and-coming Northern Wolf Shipping had him listed as the connection in the Iron Bank and that he was also a listed shareholder (only a nominal one, but they did not know that), they all began looking at him differently.


Especially his Uncle, the keyholder, now no longer looked at him as if he was a failure, instead his gaze was filled with pride and warmth, as if he was looking at his own son, and not the family embarrassment like before.


And all he had to do to get this respect, was to follow every order that Jon gave him and to curb a few of his... more deplorable habits from before.


Which was actually not that hard to do, Darrio found out to his surprise... it seems that once he began leading a fulfilling life and a successful career, he no longer needed to look for other ways to satisfy his baser cravings.


So he was indeed telling Sam the truth, as the more famous Jon and his company got, the higher his standing would be.


"I guess you are right," Sam murmured with a sigh as he looked around and saw mostly admiration and awe in the eyes of the men and women in the crowd waiting at the coast.


"Oi! Oi! They are coming down! They are finally coming down!!" a young boy shouted excitedly, jumping up and down while pointing towards the big ship that was finally lowering its plank to disembark.


"Ha! The boy's right, I can see them coming down,"


"About damn time!"


A wave of excitement ran through the crowd as all of them were jolted awake from their conversations and their gazes inadvertently turned towards the ship with intense curiosity and expectations in them.


Unfortunately for the eager onlookers, the first one to come down on the plank was not the one they were waiting for.


"Is he the one, big sister?" A pretty young girl of about twenty years of age asked in a doubtful voice.


"Of course, he is not," the middle-aged woman standing behind her replied in a confident voice, "That man is too old and looks too much like a brute to be him... in fact, he looks exactly like my dead husband, so there is no way he is that hero from the story,"


The two ladies were part of a group of women who all had better-than-average looks.


They were all of varying ages, some of them were big while others were small, some looked like innocent noble daughters while others looked like mature noble women and they were all wearing clothes that most people in this world would consider scandalous, and in addition, they had guards of their own surrounding them to protect them from the lustful wolves in the crowd.


These women were workers who usually stayed and served in the famous Bravvosi pleasure boats but today almost all of them had taken leave to come here and feast their eyes on the so-called pirate slayer, and see if he lived up to his reputation.


"Phew! That is good, I was afraid for a moment..." The young girl muttered with a pretty smile, thankful that the beautiful image she had in her mind had not been cruelly shattered, "Ohh, is the next one him?"


"No... he is not, either,"


"Eh, then... What about him?"


"No,"


"Then the next—"


"Not it,"


One after another, men began climbing down the plank under the intense scrutiny of the crowd.


The people's gazes on them filled with excitement at first, but then quickly turning to disappointment, leaving even the most experienced sellsword feeling stifled and ashamed as if they were lacking something fundamental, forcing them to hurry down the plank with their faces red from embarrassment.


"None of them are the one," The middle-aged woman uttered with a put-upon look on her face, "All of them seem like normal crude sellswords with dirty clothes, rough hair and bodies filled with scars."


"Have you ever seen this mysterious Jon Snow before? Otherwise, how would you even know that he was not one of them?" one of the other women asked sceptically.


"I have not met him, but I have heard about him from one of my customers, who heard it from his sister, who is the secret lover of a small-time merchant, who has a contract with this shipping company. And according to her, this Jon Snow was the most handsome man she had seen in her life, even better than the son of Sealord of Braavos," she whispered the last part in a conspiratory tone, "She described him as having pretty black hair, dark stormy eyes, a charming smile, and a face as if he were prince from somewhere, like..."


"Em, like him..." the younger girl asked while pointing towards the man who was next on the plank, his appearance almost immediately sending a wave of hush through the crowd.


"Yes him!, Exactly like him," the woman hurriedly nodded her head before her eyes suddenly widened as she realised what she just said, "T-That's him, that's the man," she screamed jumping up and down in her place like an excited little girl.


"What?! That's the one? B-But he is so young... did he really defeat those cruel pirates,"


"So what if he is young? Don't you know that he is from Westeros? I bet he is one of those young noble knights, the kind who picks up a sword before learning how to walk,"


"Then, it makes sense..."


Almost immediately the noises in the crowd began to rise as they realised that the one they were waiting for was finally here, and the man was quite accommodating too, as unlike the others, he did not immediately hurry down instead, he stood there in the front, in full view of the crowd as if letting the ones who had been waiting for his arrival, take him in.


And to their delight, the women waiting in the crowd found the man to be everything they had been hoping for...


"Is this enough?" Jon asked through the corner of his mouth while maintaining a smile on his face, "My hands are beginning to cramp now,"


"No, don't stop! You need to let them soak you in," answered Merchant Sam who was behind him with the Advisor hiding in his shade while forcing him to stand there and entertain the crowd. "The more they adore you and the more famous you become, the better it will be for the company. Your face will become an opportunity for our company to open doors everywhere and we will get much better deals in the future, so bear with it my friend... and just smile and wave,"


By this time, the excitement of the crowd had completely peaked with them shouting and screaming all kinds of incomprehensible things.


"How did you kill those pirates, Jon Snow?! And Is it true that you have a thousand ships?!"


"I heard that you have a dragon on your ship, Lord Snow!! Is it true?"


"No, I heard he has ten dragons!! all following his command!"


"Did you get any treasures from the Pirate King?"


"Yes, throw some gold at us, if you dare!!"


Jon: "..."


"You were right, big sister, he really does look like a prince," the pretty young girl exclaimed before she began jumping with all her might while waving her hands, "Prince Snow, look at me!!" she screamed as loud as she could and surprisingly Jon heard her shout and turned his head towards her with a bewildered look on his face.


"Ah!! he looked at me!! He really looked at me," she bragged to her friends with an exuberant look on her face, "Prince Snow! Prince Snow!!" she began screaming and chanting in happiness, and unsurprisingly, the crowd was just too happy to pick up this fitting chant and began copying her.


"Prince Snow!" "Prince Snow!" "Prince Snow!"


Before long, the whole crowd was chanting the slogan, as if the man standing before them really was the prince of a kingdom.


"Alright, this is more than enough now. I am going," Jon knew that he would be in big trouble if he stayed there any longer, so he immediately began hurrying down the plank, not wanting the crowd to get any more excited and directly promote him to a King or something else.


Seeing him coming down the crowd got even more agitated but thankfully Gared and the other sellswords who had gone down before him had already made a protective circle with the help of the guards that Darrio and Sam had brought so at least he was not in the danger of getting mobbed by the crowd.


But what Jon did not know was that this simple chant that had originated from a young admirer of his was going to drastically change his life trajectory.


Because, some distance away from the crowd, standing in an isolated but high position, was an otherworldly beautiful woman wearing a bright scarlet cloak. She was a complete conundrum, with the face of a young charming girl but the body of a mature seductress.


Surrounding her on all sides were men of all ages, some as young as fifteen while others as old as sixty, with the only common thing among them being that they too were wearing crimson cloaks.


They were the ones responsible for protecting the red priestess in their midst with their lives, though that did not seem to be necessary at the moment as everyone in the crowd was already giving them a wide berth.


But if any of these men in red cloaks turned their head around at that moment and looked at the face of their master, then they would be shocked to realise that the woman they held reverence for, the one they thought to be imperturbable, one who had all the answers in the world, had her eyes wide open in shock as if she had seen a ghost.


Initially, the priestess belonging to the temple of R'hllor in Braavos was only here at the port to satisfy her curiosity.


The people of Braavos worshipped many different religions and the followers of the God of light were only a minority among them, so not having much to do back at the temple, she came here to relieve her boredom.


And up until a few seconds ago, she was doing just that...


Her eyes had only held amusement and disdain for the people in the crowd who were jumping over each other trying to get a glimpse of a simple bastard from Westeros but, the second the crowd's chant entered her ears, her whole body shook as if she had been struck by lightning.


A few seconds later, she snapped out of her daze, and then disregarding decorum, she immediately hurried forward from amidst her protectors, trying to catch a glimpse of the handsome face.


A few seconds later, her eyes zeroed in on him, trying to devour every single detail of the boy who suddenly seemed much less simple.


'Prince...'


'The Prince that was...'


It was only after the man named Jon Snow had completely disappeared from her sight, that the woman came back to her senses and almost instantly her fists involuntarily clenched as a hint of urgency appeared in her eyes.


'I need to send a letter..." she muttered to herself.


...


"And what is this?" Jon asked with an exhausted sigh, pointing towards the sheet of parchment that Darrio had placed on the table the moment he took a seat on the sofa.


After a long difficult tread, that sometimes passed through land and other times through water, they were finally back at the mansion Jon had purchased a while back.


Even if he had not been successful in his venture of getting into an agreement with Gared, and the Company of the Rose, Jon had always known that you can never have enough space, so he had bet big and bought a mansion big enough that he could easily accommodate more than two third of the men in here simultaneously... that is, of course, on the condition that they were willing to heavily compromise on their living space.


But the mansion was mostly empty at the moment, as most of his men along with Gared, The Advisor and Merchant Sam, had gone back to the port after escorting him here, to deal with all the work involving the hauling of goods from the vessels to their warehouses along with other procedures involving docking of their ships.


This left Sam, his Westerosi friend, who sat beside him, Darrio, the banker who sat on the sofa in front of him, and Bran, the commander's son, who stood behind him, and whom Gared had left in charge of his protection along with a dozen other sellswords standing outside the room.


"This is the list of all the people who had contacted me, and Sam over the past weeks, requesting for us to arrange a meeting with you to discuss business," Darrio replied with an apologetic look on his face, as he knew how tiring it was to deal with these kinds of meetings.


"Hm," Jon nodded his head while reading through the names on the list, "I am guessing from their names, that most of them are merchants looking to get back the goods we recovered from Stepstones,"


While some of the loot had been lost or sold off, Ravager had kept most of the goods in pristine condition in his castle.


Jon assumed that Ravager had probably been hoping to make a bigger pot of gold by selling his precious cargo in Slaver's Bay, where there was a lot of demand for goods from the free cities... sadly for him, he died before fulfilling this wish of his, and in the end, the haul that he had spent so many of his men's lives on, landed in Jon's hands.


"A few of them are merchants and nobles wanting to strike a long-term deal with our shipping company, but other than them, yes, most of them are merchants who lost their goods in the naval battle against the Ravager fleet and now want them back,"


"They are not asking us to hand over the goods for free, are they?" Bran asked with a frown on his face, "Because we lost too much time, money, and not to mention lives, for us to be charitable in this,"


"No one is going to be brazen enough to do that, Bran," Jon replied distractedly with his eyes still on the list, but then he abruptly realised what world he was in and immediately looked up towards Darrio with a raised eyebrow, "No one is, right?"


"Actually, yes, there are some who righteously demanded that we hand them back 'their' goods," he said somewhat embarrassingly, "But do not worry, only a few of them are like this, most of them are smart enough to know better, and are willing to pay us the market price to get their goods. In fact, about half a dozen of them do not even want you to transfer the goods, instead, they are willing to hand you the price of the goods as well as whatever transportation charges you demand, hoping that you would do the job that the Bravoosi fleet could not do and deliver the goods to their destination,"


"Good, that's much better," Jon replied simply while nodding his head.


"That seems generous of them," Bran said while scratching his head, "Does it not?".


"Not really," Sam replied while shaking his head, "These cunning merchants usually sell their goods at three to four times their buying price at the destination market, so even if they managed to sell the haul at the minimum price, they would still be able to recover their cost."


"What?! These greedy rats!" Bran exclaimed in an indignant voice, "Doesn't this mean that they are earning money sitting on their asses while we did all the hard work."


"That is usually how those rich merchants earn," Sam replied with a helpless shrug.


"Ah! That is so frustrating," Bran said with gritted teeth as the others looked on with sympathetic smiles, "Oh! Oh! I know! What if we just keep the goods, and sell them in other cities ourselves? After all, we are going to be the ones who are going to deliver them anyways, so we may as well just take all the earnings while we are at it," he said with bright eyes as if he had just come up with a brilliant idea.


"Would that we could, but no..." Jon replied with an amused look on his face.


"What?! Why?"


"Because that would infringe on their profits, and as everyone knows, for a Merchant, his gold is more important than his life. And considering, that these merchants are the ones who control the supply of goods, it would hurt the shipping company in the long term if we estrange so many of them at the same time," Jon replied with a shrug, "Besides I do not care about this little amount of money, anyway,"


"You do not?" Bran asked confusingly.


"No," Jon shook his head with a smile, "In fact, I want them to think that they have all outwitted us, that they have benefitted from us. Because if they make safe easy money from us once, they would quickly come back the next time, and then the next... until eventually, we are the only ones whom they would even think to hand over their goods," Jon said patiently as if imparting some sage wisdom.


"Oh..." Bran replied, scratching as if he understood but did not understand what he understood.


"Darrio, I want you to agree with all the ones who are willing to pay the Braavosi market price for their goods, and as for the others... no need to reply to them," Jon said while handing the list back to him.


"I will do as you say," Darrio nodded his head while standing up, but just as he was about to turn around he remembered something, "Ah! And speaking of money, I have the bounty for Ravager's head in my hands. How do you want to deal with it?"


"Huh? They sent the money already?" Jon asked with a startled expression and Darrio nodded, "That is quite surprising... I did not expect them to part with their money so easily,"


"They did not," Darrio replied while shaking his head, "The member of the secret council whose grandson put the bounty on Ravager's head, resisted a lot at first, saying that just because you destroyed the Ravager's fleet does not mean that you killed the Pirate King, and that the Ravager could have just escaped. But sadly for them, my uncle and his allies argued in your favour, using the fact that his grandson had already lowered the reputation of Braavos by losing the fight against the pirates and that if they did not go through with their word now, it would hurt the Iron Bank's face even further, which no one wanted... so in the end that member of council was forced to clear the bounty immediately,"


"Then... you need to thank your uncle for me," Jon replied with a thoughtful look, "And as for the money, you can just add it to the previous funds and order more ships to be made in our shipping company's name,"


"I understand," he replied before bowing his head, "I shall take my leave then,"


"Hn," Jon nodded as the Braavosi man left the room.


"I thought he was supposed to be some big-time banker," Bran asked with a confused look as he took the seat that said banker had vacated, "Why is he so submissive to you?"


"Oh, we just had a slight disagreement during our first meeting," Jon said with a mysterious smile while slacking into the sofa, "And ever since then, he has been working very hard trying to make up for it..."


Bran looked sceptical for a moment before he simply shrugged and decided to forget about it.


"Jon, these two letters arrived a few days ago," Sam said gingerly taking the letters out of his front pocket.


One of them was a pristine white roll of paper tied with a silky ribbon and with a red wax seal closing it, while the other one was a smaller unadorned brown roll of parchment that one normally uses to send messages with raven.


'Ah! More work,' Jon groaned internally as he sat up reluctantly, but the moment his eyes caught the name of the sender written on the fanciest piece of letter he had seen since arriving in this world, all his laziness left his body, "Who delivered this?" he asked in a serious voice while picking up the letter that seems a bit too big for raven to carry across long distances.


"Um, I am not completely sure, but I think it may have been a child," Sam replied with a frown on his face, "A small girl had entered our shop right behind a customer, so I had assumed at first that she was with the man, but then while I was dealing with him, the child had suddenly disappeared leaving only this letter placed on the counter. I thought it was a jest at first, but then I saw the name on the letter, and... I did not dare to dismiss it,"


"Hmm," Jon nodded his head distractingly as he took off the ribbon and opened the letter to read it.


"What does it say?" Sam asked nervously as he saw Jon just sitting there with the letter in his hands with a dazed expression on his face even after a while had passed, "What does the King want with you? Why did he suddenly send you a letter?"


"It is an invitation," Jon replied slowly while placing the letter on the table, "Our dear King Robert Baratheon wants to hold a tourney in my name and award me the honour of being knighted by himself because apparently, I have made him and the Westeros proud by defeating the scrouge of the sea in 'his name',"


"Oh, thank sevens," Sam said with a look of relief on his face, "I had thought for a moment that he was angry with us or something,"


"That would have been much better," Jon muttered with a helpless look on his face.


"What?"


"Nothing, just talking to myself,"


"Oh... so when is the tourney going to take place,"


"The people in King's landing already have a date in mind, and have generously given me six months to present myself in front of the court,"


"You do not seem too enthusiastic about this meeting with the King," Bran asked with a concerned look on his face, "Is there any danger in meeting with him,"


"No, nothing of the sort," Jon denied with a small smile, "It's just... Because of this invitation, I now have to make changes to some plans and bring some things forward, so I was a little miffed, but it's nothing I can't deal with," he replied before he shook his head and picked up the second letter.


"This one arrived from Pentos," Sam supplied when he saw Jon read the letter, "One of our regular 'contacts' delivered it during the weekly reports. I assumed that it was urgent because it kept tapping its beak against the letter," he said the last part in a whisper with a sneaky glance towards Bran, who seemed to be completely oblivious and more interested in the fruit basket placed in front of him, "So what does it say? Is it good or bad news?"


"Oh, it's good news, alright," Jon said with a jubilant smile as he repeatedly went through the same three lines in the letter to make sure that he was reading the information right, "The very best,"


"Really? What happened?" Sam asked curiously.


"Oh, nothing much, I just found a few of my relatives,"


"Huh?"


'It was a good idea to send that warg to Pentos to keep watch,' Jon thought with satisfaction on his face as he closed the letter.


He had always known that they would show themselves sooner or later, but getting the news of their arrival the moment they entered that Fatso's mansion was still a big help for his plans, "It seems things are going to get hectic from now on..."


///

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[ATP]

Thanks for chapter !
Now, Jon have problems with Red demon followers - they would either try to kill him,or serve him.Worst scenario - Melly would go after him.
Tourney - no problems,unless Varys decide to kill him.
Dany in Pentos - good,but what could he do? she would be married to khal anyway,and her brother is mad.

But - all in all there should be no problems...and Daario become better man thanks to him !

 

[LazyWizard]

Six months...


A period of time that could be considered long or it could be considered short... it all depends on who you are.


If you are an idle person, with nothing to do during the day, other than eat, sleep, and swat flies, then time will inevitably slow down for you, with every hour moving as slowly as a snail.


But for Jon Snow, every single day of his week, after coming back to Braavos, was a hectic one, with him being busy with various meetings involving things like negotiating prices, intimidating merchants, and contracting new workers, among other things.


Some of these, with the various nobles, merchants, and special craftsmen from Braavos, were done in person, while other meetings, with his various contacts from all over Westeros as well as in Essos, were held with the help of Frost.


And the reason that he suddenly got so busy was in the fateful letter he got from Sam... because of the order he had been given by the King of Westeros, he was now on a deadline.


Adding in the time it would take for him to complete his preplanned quest in Westerlands, and then travel from there to the capital, Jon did not have too much time on his hands, so sadly, he could not continue with his leisurely approach.


After taking a conservative estimate, Jon decided to give himself a timeline of two months, in which he wanted to not only make his Shipping company self-sufficient but also have his people be capable of making all kinds of big and small changes with just a single letter.


Thankfully, this mammoth task was made much easier because of the long list of competent subordinates Jon had under him.


With men such as Merchant Sam, Gared, Bran, his friend Sam, and most especially the recent addition Advisor (who was essentially a God sent with his decade-long experience as the right-hand man of the late Pirate King) at the helm of his shipping company, he did not have to worry about stretching himself thin.


So without wasting a single moment, Jon began taking a complete hands-off approach on the next trip of his shipping company after they arrived back at Braavos.


And like he had expected, his not joining the crew (at least not in person) brought quite a few hiccups for his fleet.


From a small brawl between some of the more unruly sellswords with a few of the new crew members from the North, to a dangerous incident involving their fleet getting lost for a few days midway through their journey, because the new wargs were not too familiar with the path.


So, safe to say, all sailors on his ships, who were used to his command, suffered quite a bit, but eventually, they reached their destination and completed the trip.


And after that first time, it only got easier, and Jon, without hesitating, began to skip every other trip of his company to give his men more time to adapt to his absence.


But even with him not going on trips for the company, Jon's days only got busier as his shipping company had entered its most aggressive development phase.


From buying and renovating new ships to adding new crew members... There was never a moment when Jon was free.


Fortunately, he had been prepared for this for a long time; otherwise, he would have completely missed this golden time of development.


Now, new ships were being supplied regularly to his fleet from the Arsenal, the world-famous shipbuilding centre of Braavos, while he got the sailors needed for his crew directly from the North.


His previous investments in the various Orphanages in White Harbour, as well as all the time and money he spent to acquire the retired Veteran Ship captains nearby to teach in his schools in the North, had paid off. \


And now he never had to suffer a scarcity of skilled sailors and could add as many ships as he wanted to his fleet.


And even though none of these new recruits had been taught for more than a year, they were all more than qualified.


In fact, after just a few weeks of hands-on experience on the ships, they became almost as good as sailors who had been sailing the seas for years.


This just went to show that there was a reason that systematic training was so popular in his previous life.


And considering the absurd scarcity of direct trade between cities such as Braavos and Volantis, the demand was always going to be higher than supply, no matter how much Jon increased the size of his fleet... so there were no worries there.


In fact, after a few weeks had gone by smoothly, Jon even began considering dividing his fleet into two, so that his men could work in shifts, and his shipping company could have tickets available for people every single week.


But even when Jon was so busy with his company, he still managed to take some time out to focus on one more job...


A side quest, so to speak...


One that was worth even more than the main one...


A quest— to save a princess from the cruel claws of a dragon...


...


In one of the most opulent mansions in Pentos, there was a feast in progress.


The dining table was loaded with a spread so varied and sumptuous that it would not have looked lacking on a King's table.


Servants continuously walked to and fro from the kitchen bringing new courses every few minutes, but it never seemed to be enough.


The strange thing, though, was that the people eating this large quantity of food, which was enough to feed ten robust men, were just three... and one of them was a thirteen-year-old girl.


"How are you finding the food, your grace?" the massively fat man sitting at the head of the table asked while picking up a juicy piece of lamb with his meaty fingers and placing it in his mouth before licking off the grease greedily.


"Fine," Viserys answered, sending a look of disgust towards his host, that was not as discreet as he assumed, "But the meat could have been cooked a little more, and this soup—it is not as creamy as it should be..."


"Is that really so?" Illyrio said with an overly exaggerated expression on his face, "Then that is the height of impudence, your highness... and the cook should have his hands cut off for it,"


Viserys hesitated at that, as he had, in fact, liked the food quite a bit... and had only been nitpicking because he wanted to come across as kingly, as he had seen his father do many times.


But he had not expected the cheesemonger to suggest something so extreme...


Then again, his father never hesitated before establishing his authority over the people below him, so he should not either.


'And this was just a slave anyway... There were plenty of those around here,' Viserys thought as his eyes firmed up and he nodded, "Do that then. Maybe that will teach the next one to cook better,"


"Of course, your grace,"


"B-But... the food is not that bad," Daenerys spoke with a tentative look on her face, "And even if you must punish him, there is no need to take the man's hand... y-you can just give him more labour or have him work in the stables or something like that,"


"Ah, your graciousness and compassion for these poor souls know no bounds, princess," Illyrio said with such a great act of sincerity that it made the young girl look down in embarrassment, "I have been moved by your benevolence, and shall do as you say."


The Pentoshi Merchant's words left the princess pleased but irritated the prince, whose fists clenched involuntarily at being slighted and overruled so easily.


"When are you going to get me an army, Illyrio?" Viserys abruptly asked, putting down the spoon in his hands, "It has been more than a month since we arrived at your mansion, and I have not seen a shadow of the army that you promised me."


"Ah, it is good that you asked me about that, your grace, because I have good news on that front," Illyrio replied without taking the slightest offence at being disrespected by his guest in his own home, "My men have managed to come in contact with three Khalasar whose Khal could potentially agree to work for us in the future,"


"Good, good," Viserys nodded with a satisfied look, "And... when can you buy them, and bring them here?"


"That would take quite a bit of time, your grace," Illyrio replied sadly, not bothering to correct the boy's misconception that no one could buy a Khal's loyalty, "You see, these three groups of khalasar have been hostile to each other for quite a while, and according to my sources, there is a very good chance of them waging war against each other in about two to three months... So all we need to do is wait for them to fight, and then offer the winning Khal our contract."


"Fine," Viserys said, sighing in disappointment at the long wait, "But are these savages' fighters really worth the wait? Are they really going to be good enough soldiers for us in Westeros?"


"They surely will be, your grace," Illyrio replied confidently, "Everyone knows the terror of a Dothraki horde, your grace. There is no Essos who dares to offend them, at least not lightly... because whoever does slight them, gets run over sooner or later with their manor reduced to rubble,"


"Hmm, that is good, then," Viserys replied with a pleased nod.


The rest of their meal passed in silence, and finally, after more than two hours had passed since they first sat there, their host put down his fork and knife with a satisfied look, signalling to the tired slaves that their master had eaten his fill, and that they could take a short break... before they had to begin preparing for the next meal.


Having been forced to sit idle at the table for almost an hour(due to etiquette) after he had finished his meal, Viserys was, safe to say, not in a very good mood.


So while walking towards their respective chambers, when Viserys saw the smile on his sister's face as she discussed her plans to have another outing with her maid, he became very irked.


He then also remembered how the girl had undermined him before while they were eating, so he decided to teach her a lesson.


"You will not leave the mansion from now on," he ordered using the strongest voice that he could use, and he was very satisfied when the smile abruptly vanished from his sister's face.


"What? But why?" Daenerys asked in a small voice, her steps coming to a halt in the middle of the hallway.


"Because it is dangerous out there," Viserys replied without missing a beat, "The Usurper's assassin could be out there waiting for a chance, and you going out there is simply serving yourself on a platter."


"But you go out every day to go to the brothels, so why can't I—"


*SLAP*


Viserys backhanded his sister without holding back, sending the thirteen-year-old girl straight to the floor.


The horrified maid immediately went to help her, but Viserys raised his hand, stopping her in her place.


"Do not talk back to me, ever," Viserys growled in a low voice, bending down to look at his sister without a hint of warmth in his eyes, "What I do, where I go, is in no way any of your concern, because I am your King. Do you understand?"


Daenerys answered with a shaky nod, her palm holding her face as her long hair fell down to hide her wet eyes that remained stuck to the floor.


"Answer me!!"


"Y-Yes," she whimpered in a small voice, her whole body shivering in fear.


"Good," he replied in a pleased voice as he straightened up and left for his room without another glance at his sister.


A few minutes later, the maid finally could not hold back, "You will get cold sitting on the floor like that, princess. You should go back to your room."


Danaerys nodded her head as she slowly stood up from the floor and began quietly walking towards her room.


Her eyes and her face always remained lowered as she did not want the maid to see her tears.


"I will not be needing you for now," she said to the maid when they reached the door to her room, trying, but failing to stop her voice from trembling


"But..." the maid hesitated for a moment before she nodded, "As you say, princess. I will be here when you need me," she said, bowing her head as Daenerys entered her room.


Wiping the tears from her eyes, Daenerys slowly walked towards the chair in front of the big shiny mirror and took a seat.


The moment she looked at her face in the mirror and saw the bright red handprint on her cheek, her lips quivered involuntarily, and the tears began flowing from her eyes once again.


"Why is it so hard?" she sobbed as she rubbed her eyes fiercely, wanting to stop her tears, but no matter how she tried, her body just would not stop shaking.


She could not quite remember the first time that her brother had hit her cruelly, but she knew it must have been during the months that they were on the streets in Braavos after being kicked out of their house with most of their valuables stolen by their own servants.


Things were difficult during those times; they both had to go from place to place, trying to survive by selling the few trinkets that they had managed to keep safe.


But thankfully, somehow things never reached the extreme, as whenever they were on their wits' end and were on the verge of being starved, they would be somehow found out by the servants of local nobility or a wealthy merchant who would invite them into their homes for the prestige of hosting the last heirs of Targaryen dynasty.


But then, not even a few months would pass, and their hosts would begin to get tired of Viserys's various demands.


They would try and tolerate him at first, but then, sooner or later, her brother would cross a line and anger their host, resulting in them getting kicked out and becoming homeless once again.


And then as they moved from place to place, from Braavos to Tryosh to Myr to now Pentos, from begging this noble to host them one day to the next, her brother's personality began changing.


He became more short-tempered and started taking everything as an offence to him and his family. He also started becoming more violent with her whenever she did something that displeased him, he called it 'waking the dragon'.


While they were in the red house, her kind uncle, William Darry, had always protected her from her brother whenever he got irritated or went into that strange mood of his, but after his death... There was no one left to keep her safe anymore.


Things eventually got so bad that every night before going to sleep, she would hear him mutter all kinds of threats, things that he would do to all those who had slighted him, that he would make them suffer a torturous death when he got back his kingdom.


It became an obsession that occupied every waking moment of his...


It was concerning and scary at the same time...


One day, she finally managed to muster up her courage to say to him that maybe they did not need to go to Westeros, and maybe they could just live here in Essos and that they did not need to try so hard to fight a war, to recover the kingdom that she had never even seen.


His face got so livid after hearing that, that she did not even recognise him for a moment...


His anger was almost unquenchable, and he kept on hitting her no matter how much she cried for him to stop.


She had feared that he would kill her that day, but fortunately, he eventually got too tired, and she managed to survive... with bruises that lasted for weeks.


She never defied after that day, as she knew that the last shred of kindness her brother had towards her had finally disappeared...


So, so safe to say, the slap she got hit with earlier was not even the worst she had suffered at her brother's hand, but for some reason, her heart just hurt especially too much today.


She felt just so... alone.


"Chi!! Chi!!"


Her sobs had just gotten under control when she heard a small squeaky sound from behind her.


Daenerys slowly turned her head in a daze, only to see tiny but clear words written in thin, inky lines on the lower end of the wall behind her.


Hello!!


"Hello?" Daenerys mumbled in a confused voice, "Who left this? Has this always been here?" she asked herself in a confused voice, thinking that the previous occupant must have written it in his boredom or something.


But then she heard the squeaking sound once again, but this time from the vanity mirror in front of her.


And when she turned around, she was shocked to find that words had suddenly appeared in the mirror during the scant few seconds that she had looked away.


Hello, Daenerys Targaryen.


"Wah—" the girl was so startled by the sight of her own name written on the mirror, that her body automatically jerked backwards, making her and the chair fall straight towards the floor with a resounding thud, "Ouch!!"


The door to the room suddenly opened as the maid standing outside of her room entered the room after hearing the sudden scream from Daenerys.


"Are you well, princess?" the maid asked in a concerned voice as she hurried forward to help Daenerys up, "What happened?"


"That—" Daenerys began while raising her finger towards the mirror, but when she turned her eyes there, she was shocked to find that the tiny words on the mirror had suddenly disappeared as if they were never there, leaving behind just a faint blue smudge as if someone had wiped them.


Her face now deathly pale, the last Targaryen girl in the world turned her head around, and sure enough, the first Hello had also disappeared from the wall behind her.


"Your grace?"


"N-No, nothing," Daenerys replied to the maid's concern by shaking her head, "I was just a little distracted and accidentally fell down. Sorry for bothering you."


"Are you sure?" she asked as he picked up the chair and helped Daenerys sit on it, "Do you want me to stay with you?"


"No, I am fine. Thank you,"


"As you say, princess," The maid bowed before vacating the chamber, leaving little Daenerys all alone once again, with her eyes frantically darting towards every corner of her room in paranoia.


'Maybe it was just my imagination,' she tried to convince herself, but her mind wouldn't believe her, 'What if it was real?' she thought, 'What if there really is someone inside the room with me?'


"Is someone here?" she whispered in a scared tone, fidgeting in her seat as her mind came up with one scary conjecture after another, ranging from a scary assassin from the infamous House of Black to a vengeful witch.


But no one answered even after a while, so she began to relax, thinking that it had really been a hallucination all along, but then suddenly Daenerys heard the dreadful squeak from behind her once again.


"Chi!!" the girl jumped and immediately turned her head around, and sure enough, the tiny strange words were there on the wall once again.


Yes, I am here.


Her shock this time was much smaller, so she did not take her long to control herself, and when she did, she immediately became inquisitive and asked the invisible air in a small, frightened voice, "A-Are you an assassin?"


No, I am not an assassin. I am, in fact, a... relative of yours, who only recently found out about you and now wants to help you.


"M-My relative?" Daenerys stuttered in a stunned voice before a suspicious look crossed her face, 'But I don't have any relatives who are still alive, do I?'


"Are you perhaps a ghost of one of my ancestors?" she tentatively asked a hint of hope in her timid voice, which she knew was very stupid of her, because never in any of the stories she had ever read was the result of a ghost encounter good for the health of the victim. But she just could not help herself...


"Chi!!" the squeak arrived with the letters once again, this time from the right.


No, I am not a ghost. I am a normal living being, just like you...


"You are? T-Then, why do you not come out in front of me?" she asked nervously, hoping but also dreading that the answer would be positive.


I can come out, but only if you promise not to scream


"I won't, I-I promise," Daenerys replied hurriedly nodding her head as she forced her lips close, swearing to herself that she could not scream no matter who arrived in the room in the next moment, whether they be a scary ghost or one of her ancestor or even a dragon... she would not flinch.


"Chi!!"


This time, when she turned her expectant eyes towards the squeak, coming from beside the mirror on her vanity, she found not the familiar words but a small rat standing behind a box, nervously waving its tiny claws at her.


'So the rat was the one writing the words...' Daenerys' eyes widened in comprehension, 'No wonder the words were so small...'


"But wait! A RAT!!" she exclaimed with an absurd look on her face, "I-I have a rat as a family,"


///

 

[Geraldrold]

The last sentence made me snort

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[TheCuriousGuest]

Lol, isn't that just Viserys?
Fits why he's really with the Cheesemonger.

Nevermind, Rat would be an upgrade to him.

 

[ATP]

Lol, isn't that just Viserys?
Fits why he's really with the Cheesemonger.

Nevermind, Rat would be an upgrade to him.

Click to shrink...

Agree,do not accuse rats of being related to Viserys !
Jokes aside - Jon here plan to :
1.Save Dany
2.Made fleet bigger
3.Kill Mountain


In 6 months before going to meet King? dude is really genius - maybe smart enough to save Westeros from itself.

 

[LazyWizard]

///Apologies!!///

It's been a long time since I last uploaded a chapter... and I don't even remember how long.

I used to hate people who left their stories unfinished for prolonged periods of time (GRRM, I am looking at you!), and now I have become someone like that... sigh...

But unlike the great writer, I did not stop due to something like writer's block, but because of an unfortunate accident.

It happened around 11 pm at night.

I was sitting on a bike, behind my idiotic little brother, who simply did not understand the concept of driving at a speed lower than 80 kmph. He never listened to me, no matter how many times I scolded him for his reckless driving, always replying that, 'It'll be alright. that he had never been in an accident ever, so he knew what he was doing,'

And as the wise one once said, 'if you walk along the river long enough, you are bound to get your feet wet eventually,'

And on that day, my brother learned a precious lesson in driving cautiously, but unfortunately for me, I was taken along for the ride.

Thankfully, the hole we hit was not bigger than half a meter, so we weren't flung too far away.

My brother got away with minor scratches and a minor leg fracture, while I was unlucky enough to land on my right hand and had three of my fingers severely fractured.

Without the use of my fingers, I was like a clever housewife without any rice...

And so that was the story of why I had been away from my story for so long, as I literally could not type, no matter how much I wanted to.

Now, after months of rehabilitation, I feel like I am ready to dive back into this story, and while I may be a little rusty for a while, I will try my best to give you the most interesting piece of fiction that I can.

So I hope you all can find it in your big hearts to forgive me for all the delays, and send me some luck so that I don't get into another accident like that and write for the long haul this time

///



The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays painting the desert sands in hues of amber and crimson.

A cloud of dust rose in the distance, stirred by the thundering hooves of fifteen horses, their riders galloping toward the castle.

"A-An attack!" a young guard cried out, panic creeping into his voice as he pointed a trembling finger at the approaching dust cloud.

"You idiot!" a veteran standing beside him scoffed, cuffing the boy on the head. "Look closer. Those are our people." He then turned and bellowed toward the walls, "Open the gates! Prince Oberyn is back!"

"The prince?" The green recruit blinked, his voice filled with awe. "Is it really him? The Red Viper?" He had only joined the guards a few days ago, so he had not had the chance to see the famous second prince of Dorne.

"Yes, it is, and if he sees that dumb look on your face, he will have you sent straight to the Sept— and to be honest, you'd fit right in amongst the Silent Sisters," he guffawed, sending the rest of the guards into fits of laughter.

"Welcome back, Prince Oberyn." A tall, broad-shouldered man in a finely embroidered tunic stepped forward the moment Oberyn dismounted, "I presume you managed to find the bandits,"

"Oh, yes," Oberyn nodded, unwrapping the yellow sandcloak from his face, "The lot thought themselves cunning and hid inside an abandoned watchtower. They were using a half-collapsed passage underneath to come and go... but sadly for them, the tunnel wasn't as secret as they thought," he finished with a smirk.

"Yes, quite unfortunate," The Steward of the castle replied dryly, as the man knew that few people in Dorne knew secret hideouts better the prince who in his younger spent more time outside the castle than inside "I have asked the cooks to prepare your usual meal, which should take about half an hour, so I presume you want to take a bath while you wait."

"That would be perfect... unless you have any documents or letters for me to see," he asked, not being subtle about his hope that the answer would be a no.

"No, fortunately not," the man replied in an amused voice, "Prince Doran has already taken care of that,"

"Brother is here?" Oberyn said in a surprised tone, his eyes automatically turning towards the tower of the sun, where the seat of the Prince of Dorne lay.

"Yes, he has been here for more than a week now. Something about wanting to..." The Steward hesitated for a moment before he replied, "...take a walk."

"I see," Oberyn answered with a raised eyebrow before he nodded and took off, leaving the steward to deal with his men.

The castle of Sunspear was located on the lower end of the Broken Arm, a place which, according to the legend, was created alongside the Stepstones, when the children of the forest broke the bridge, connecting Essos and Westeros, using their Hammer of Waters.

The castle was located north of the Greenblood River and was surrounded on three sides by the open sea, and on its fourth side lay the famous Shadow City.

It took him ten minutes before Oberyn entered the castle proper of the Old Palace, and from there he had to go through a lot of winding hallways, climb at least five flights of stairs and pass through three different sentries before he finally entered the path leading to his Brother's solar.

And as he had expected, standing right outside the door guarding his brother was his ever dutiful guard, Areo Hotah, a man who was more loyal to his brother than his own wife.

"Tell me, Aero, when do you even find the time to take a shit if you stay stuck to my brother everytime I see you," Oberyn asked cheekily, in lieu of greeting, but he was also genuinely curious as he had never seen the Norvosi warrior more than a few feet away from his brother no matter the time of the day.

"...Sometime during the night," The taciturn man answered with a twitch of his eyebrow before he opened the door behind him, letting his master's brother step in.

Oberyn rolled his eyes at the non-answer, but he nonetheless entered the room without harassing the man any further.

Inside, he found his brother hard at work reading some trade documents while also having his meal at the same time.

"Oh, that is some appalling food, brother," Oberyn snorted in amusement as he looked at the bland spread of boiled vegetables and juice laid in front of the Prince of Dorne, who used to live for strong spicy meat dishes and sweet wine.

"Don't jest at the expense of the poor and helpless," Doran replied without looking up, "Didn't our mother teach you that, brother?"

"Ah, I must have been away during that particular lesson," Oberyn replied with a smirk as he fell onto the chair on the opposite side of his brother and began closely scrutinising his face, "You seem to be in remarkably better spirits than the last time I saw you,"

"That is what most people have been telling me," Doran answered with a shrug, but no matter how much he tried, he could not suppress the pleased smile on his face.

"So the cure is working then, huh," Oberyn said as he leaned back with a thoughtful look on his face, "I wanted to visit you in the water gardens before but could never find the time..."

"Do not worry," Doran replied with a wave of his hand, "I know that you have been very busy since you came back, dealing with all the bad elements surrounding Shadow city," he said with a curious look on his face, "Though, I did not know you felt so strongly about improving trade routes..."

'There was nothing better than constant life and death battles to sharpen one's mind and spirit,' but of course, Oberyn could not tell that to his brother, as it would raise questions such as, Why are you sharpening your skills? Who are you going to kill? So instead, he simply replied, "I was just bored, so I thought, why not..."

"Oh."

"So how much of a difference did the cure make?" Oberyn asked casually, trying to make his brother move on from the topic.

"You tell me," Doran smiled as he pushed back his wheelchair and came out from behind the table and openly showing off his legs that he usually kept hidden beneath a blanket.

The moment he glanced at his brother's legs, Oberyn's eyes widened in shock, so drastic were the changes.

He had expected some improvement after seeing his brother's good mood, but this... this was just too miraculous.

The swollen feet that had become discoloured and misshaped due to the severity of the gout, the knotted toes that had become twisted and grotesquely enlarged, and the dark, ugly, red spots that were almost on the verge of bursting... all these serious symptoms had been reduced to barely ten percent of their original severity, which seemed almost like... magic.

His brother's feet now looked... normal.

In fact, if one looked closely enough, they could find a hint of muscle in the lower thigh of his brother's previously atrophied legs.

"Unbelievable," Oberyn exclaimed with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"That is exactly what the Maester said," Doran answered in a smug voice, "The old man was almost hyperventilating trying to find some other reason for this miraculous recovery than the cure you had given me."

"I do not blame him," Oberyn said with a shrug as he leaned back, "After all, who would have believed that just a simple change of diet and a few hours of exercise in water daily could do so much for you, when more than a decade of medicine did nothing."

"Who indeed?"

"You did not either, if I remember correctly," Oberyn said teasingly, "You gave me quite the look of exasperation and pity when I handed you the small piece of parchment containing the cure, telling me that I had been duped."

"Fortunately for me, you were persistent enough to disregard my dismissal and forced me to follow through with this, otherwise seven forbid, this precious opportunity might have just passed me by," Doran said with a warm smile, "And for that I am very grateful, to you and to the person who gave you this cure..." he said before he went back behind the table to resume his meal, "Speaking of which, is it not time for you to tell me who this mysterious benefactor of mine is,"

Oberyn considered it for a few seconds before shrugging, "Why not?"

The only reason he had decided not to tell his brother about Jon in the first place was that he didn't want him to be biased against the cure just on the principle of it being from the North. After all, his brother was already skeptical enough; he did not want him to see the cure as a conspiracy, but now that they knew it was real...

"Do you remember when I told you that Obara and I left our previous sellswords company in Essos and joined a new one during our last few months there..."

"Yes... What of it?"

"Well, the name of the company we joined was called the Northern Wolf shipping..." Oberyn said with an amused look, as his brother Doran immediately froze after hearing the name, "And the one who gave me the cure is the owner of said company."

"...the one which is said to have been created by the Bastard from the North?"

"Yes,"

"The one who almost single-handedly revolutionised the trade between Volantis and Braavos? The one who killed the ruthless Pirate King, Ravager, and is now almost solely responsible for all the mayhem in the seas surrounding Stepstones?"

"The very same one,"

"So this cure really came from the North, huh," Doran said before taking a deep breath and leaning back in his chair, not knowing how to feel about this.

"Directly from the hands of the son of Eddard Stark,"

The Prince of Dorne was silent for a moment before he asked aloud, "But why? What does this mean? What could they be after?"

"You think too much, brother." Oberyn rolled his eyes, "The boy Jon Snow is a friend of mine, and he probably just wanted to help, so he helped... There is nothing hidden underneath here."

Doran completely ignored his brother's naive opinions and began thinking intensely about all the possible reasons, trying to look at it from different angles, 'Is it an elaborate scheme? Or maybe a subtle invitation for an alliance? Or is it really just the whims of a young child—'

"Ah, how could I forget about that!" Doran exclaimed as he suddenly began rummaging through the heaps of paper on his desk.

"What are you looking for, brother?" Oberyn asked curiously.

"This," Doran said with a satisfied look on his face while showing his brother an intricate piece of white paper that had the signature of the hand of the king as the sender.

"What is this?"

"An invitation! To a tourney that Robert Baratheon is hosting in a few months,"

"And?" Oberyn asked with a confused look, as there are usually more than half a dozen such invitation in any given year, as everytime the King wanted to hold a tourney, etiquette dictated that all the great house get an invitation, whether they attend or not, "What is different about this invitation that has you so enthusiastic, brother?"

"The difference between this tourney and the others is that it is being held in honour of a young boy, who made the unbelievable achievement of defeating a Pirate King at fourteen years of age, and for that feat he is about to become the youngest knight in history."

"What?!" Oberyn burst out with a stupefied expression before he immediately sat up and snatched the letter from his brother. And sure enough, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the name Jon Snow written in bold, beautiful writing.

This news came out of nowhere for Oberyn, making him wonder why Jon had ommitted such an important piece of information in his last letter because he obviously must have known about it, and more importantly why had he not changed the timing of the plans yet, was he perhaps going to ignore the invitation, but that would be rude and idiotic considering the relationship of the North with Crown, so that did not make sense either...

While Oberyn was grappling with this sudden news, his brother dropped another surprise in a conversational tone, "Perhaps, I shall go and attend this tourney in person..."

"Huh, What?! Why?" Oberyn asked dumbfoundedly, looking at his brother as if trying to make sure that he really was Doran and not a duplicate from the House of Black and White.

"Why not?" Doran shrugged with a nonchalant look on his face, "It is the least I could do for the boy, who managed to cure me when everyone else failed. Plus, it would give me the chance to get a feel for the atmosphere surrounding all the nobles of the kingdom, see what has changed."

"But..." Oberyn hesitated for a few seconds before he decided to speak his mind, "You know that they are all going to be there, right? The King, the Lannisters, and maybe even Tywin himself, so..."

"So?" Doran asked with a smile while looking at him as if Oberyn was the one who was being absurd, "What does it matter if they are there? Do you think that I am afraid of them, brother? Or perhaps you think that I can't control myself and would do something stupid..."

"Um, yes," Oberyn answered unsurely.

"You give me too little credit," Doran said with a gleam in his eyes, before he suddenly pushed his wheelchair back to give himself space, "The only reason I have been hiding inside Water Gardens for the past few years was that I did not want people to see me as weak, to see me as a vulnerability, but now..." he suddenly grunted and slowly with only a little bit of difficulty stood up, "Things are different," he continued as he unhurriedly began to walk towards the window without the support of anything but his own legs, "I am no longer a symbol of House Martell weakness," he said while looking down at the Shadow city with a sharp look in his eyes, "It is time for me to get back in the game,"

Oberyn was so surprised at seeing his brother walk on his own for the first time in more than a decade that he almost missed his brother's enlightening speech.

And, when he did hear his declaration, the first thing that came to his mind was, 'Maybe it is time to tell him the truth about Jon...'

The second prince hesitated for quite a while, but in the end, he convinced himself that it would be better to tell his brother when their mission was completed successfully.

And if the mission turned out to be a failure...

Well, that would be the headache for the living, wouldn't it?

...

It was almost an hour later that Oberyn left his brother's chamber with a tired look on his face.

He had tried hard to dissuade Doran from following through with this whim of his of going to King's Landing, but his brother was unusually determined this time, and in the end, Oberyn had to give up.

They had moved on to discussing other things after that, among which was Oberyn informing his brother that he was going to be away from Dorne for a few short weeks to finish some business in Essos, which was not very uncommon for him, so his brother was not suspicious at all.

This meant that Oberyn was now almost fully prepared for his trip, leaving just the tiny hurdle of telling his daughters that he was going to be away from Dorne for a while, and that no, he was not taking any of them with him this time.

"You were in there for an unusually long time, father," a sweet voice echoed across the corridor just as Oberyn reached the end of the passageway, "I had almost fallen asleep waiting for you."

"Sarella?" Oberyn exclaimed in a surprised voice as he turned around to see the beautiful face of his most studious daughter, "When did you get back from the Citadel?"

"She came home a week ago, father," The voice answering came not from Sarella, but behind him. He turned back to find Nymeria, his second oldest daughter, come out of her hiding at the end of the corridor with a sneaky smile on her face, "She was quite sad when she found out that you were not home but out there hunting some bandits... which she found quite unusual."

Oberyn alternatively looked at the faces of his daughters, one looked mature, languid, and elegant with her creamy white skin and her long black braid bound up in red-gold wire, while the other had her hair cut a bit short to aid in her deception of masquerading as boy to blend among the acolytes in Citadel, but she too was beauty with her olive skin and dark brown eyes she got from her summer-islander mother.

One was a deadly fighter who would never be found alone without at least a dozen knives on her person, while the other had the sharpest of minds along with an insatiable curiosity and a reputation for pushing in where she doesn't belong.

"Why do I feel that I am being ambushed here... Am I missing something? " Oberyn asked with an amused smile on his face, "And if I am being ambushed, then I must say... You did not bring enough power to the fight."

"Why would you think that we are ambushing you, Father?" Sarella asked in a deceptively innocent voice, "Do you do something wrong? Were you trying to hide something from your dear daughters?"

"What are you talking about—"

"Sarella figured it out, father," Nymeria interrupted with an impatient yet eager expression on her face, that immediately had her sister rolling her eyes as she gave the game away too quickly, "She knows all about your ploy,"

"Er, what ploy are you talking about?" Oberyn replied outwardly, looking very confused, while inwardly sweating at how sharp his little girls were.

"The ploy that you had been cooking for almost two months," Sarella stated with a complacent smile, that seemed eerily similar to a cat after a successful hunt, "Let me guess, you just told Uncle Doran that you would be gone for a while for some business..."

"Um..." Oberyn wavered for just a moment before he realised that they were going to find out about it anyway, which meant that there was no point in lying, so he nodded his head, "Yes, but it is just a short trip to Essos to get something that I had commissioned a while back. There is no—"

"Don't patronize me, Father. You may be able to fool Obara, and the others, but not me—"

Oberyn coughed, "Sarella—"

"Don't even try," His daughter interrupted him once again, "Nym told me that ever since you came back from Essos, you have been at the training grounds from morning till dawn. And that every time she saw you, you were either training your forms, working on your strength or fighting against that massive fellow from the guard force. Not only that, you have also stopped indulging in wine and spicy food and are now only eating the bland nutritious shit that perhaps only a Maester could have recommended you,"

"Er—"

"And most importantly, you have been making regular unneeded trips to kill bandits every time even a hint of them appears, even if they are set up far away from here," The girl finished it all in one breath before an adorable smile appeared on her face, "You are preparing, Father. Preparing for a hunt... and considering that there are only a handful of people in Westeros, who would require you to spend so much effort, I can guess that it will be a deadly and difficult one.... so I want to be a part of it,"

"We want to be part of it," Nymeria added forcefully, as if trying to tell them not to forget about her.

Oberyn looked at his daughters with a dark, dangerous gaze that he used to employ to intimidate them with when they were little, but it seemed his little girls had grown up as they glared back with equal intensity without backing down.

"No," Oberyn stated finally in a decisive tone.

"Why not?" Nymeria whined immediately, breaking the stoic face that she had been making a second ago, "I am one of the best fighters in Dorne, and Sarella is no slouch either, so we won't hold you back."

"Plus, I am better at making poison than you are, father—"

"Debatable, but still no," Oberyn said definitely shaking his head, "It is going to be a very dangerous trip, and I do not want you to be a part of it, end of discussion."

"Fine, then you leave us no choice..." Sarella sighed, raising her in defeat, "We will have to tell the other sisters, and then perhaps you will have to bring all of us."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" Oberyn asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Sarella replied fearlessly, "After all, I learned it from the best," she added with a cheeky grin on her face.

Oberyn had a fierce look on his face for a few moments, but then he sighed helplessly as he realised that the battle was already lost.

"Fine, we leave in a week."

"YES!!"

'Sevens! Why did you not give me sons that I could beat the shit out of...'



///

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter. Great story as always.
Hope you feeling better and fully recovered

 

[Perpetual Tim]

I hope it doesn't leave any permanent damage.
And glad to have you back

 

[Geraldrold]

Thy

 

[ATP]

poor Oberyn.But...maybe Jon get Sarella here? she would be good waifu.

 

[LazyWizard]

The princess sat idly on the chair in front of the vanity table in her room.


Her face was smushed between her palms, and her legs swung to and fro underneath the table as she stared at the rat, Gan, who seemed to be having the time of his life chewing through a big piece of cheese that Daenerys had ordered her maid to get.


"Is he here yet?" the girl asked.


The rat looked up, shook its tiny head and then went back to the cheese.


For Gan, the piece of dairy in front of him was far more important than answering the stupid human female who kept asking the same question again and again.


"When is he going to be here then?" Daenerys whined in a petulant tone, having grown tired of waiting. Though in fact it hadn't been longer than twenty minutes since their appointment time had passed.


Thankfully, at that exact moment, the aura of the rat completely changed, and its eyes suddenly gained a hint of extraordinary wisdom that it did not have before, even with its relatively high intelligence compared to other rats.


"I got a little busy because of a sudden meeting, Daenerys," The rat wrote with a hint of apology in its eyes, "I am sorry for the tardiness."


"N-No problem," Daenerys replied, hastily shaking her head.


The last Targaryen Princess still felt a bit unnatural talking to a rat, even though it had been more than a week since she had gotten acquainted with this strange relative of hers.


It had been explained to her quite a few times that it was not the rat that was doing the 'talking' here, but a boy named Jon Snow who was controlling the rat using... Magic.


She had, of course, been very skeptical at first, wondering if she was being duped here, but then the boy had reminded her that their ancestors used to regularly fly on dragons... so this little bit of magic was actually not strange, especially considering that there are real magics out there, among the likes of Ancient Warlocks, the Red God followers, and the others.


"So how was your day?" Jon asked as a conversation opener, like he did every day.


"It was fine," Daenerys answered with a smile, "I had lunch, had a short walk in the inner garden, and then came back into my room."


"So your brother is still not letting you out of the mansion, huh?" Jon asked with a hint of sympathy in his black, beady eyes.


"No..." Daenerys shook her head with a forced smile on her face, "But its fine, I have Gan here to keep me company," she said pointing towards the Rat that Jon had given to her as a part time pet, "Plus, I have you to talk to from time to time, so its not that bad,"


"If you say so," Jon replied before a serious look appeared on his face, "So did you read the book I sent you yesterday?"


"Oh, yes," the little girl exclaimed before she jumped up from her seat and ran towards her bed.


Kneeling on the floor, she grunted and raised her bedding with her right hand and then retrieved a thick book that had been deep inside with her left hand before she came running back to her seat, "I finished it," she said proudly while showing him the book.


"That is so fast, Daenerys. You really are a good reader," Jon praised without holding back, and the girl immediately blushed with a pleased smile on her face. "So? What did you think about it?"


"Oh, it was wonderful! I learned so many things. The names of so many of our ancestors and all the wonderful dragons they had, of how they were able to move across the continent on their whim, and how the people respected them..." The girl explained with wonder in her eyes as if she was wondering what it would have been like to live in such a place, but then, abruptly, a dreary look appeared in her eyes, "But then somehow...everything went wrong,"


"Oh..."


"It was all so heartbreaking and cruel," Daenerys said, her lips upturned in distress as she remembered the tragic tale she had read in the book that had been given such a... tame title, "They were all related to each other, brothers and sisters, uncle and nephews, but still they attacked each other so viciously... some were left maimed, some were torn apart in the sky, while others got burned and eaten by dragons, and the most cruel of all was when a mother was forced to choose between her two children," her eyes got a little wet as she remembered the tragedy that had befallen one of her ancestor, a woman who had been described as a peaceful mother, "And they did it all... so that one person could sit on an old iron chair,"


"It feels quite stupid, doesn't it?" Jon asked quietly.


"Yes," Daenerys answered with a sluggish nod, "Yes, it does. I just can't imagine why they, who had almost everything in the world at their fingertips, and were practically the most privileged people of their time, would go to such lengths for something so... useless."


"Their actions and decisions may seem a little unnatural and extreme, but you need to understand that these events had happened over the course of decades, and that many little things and events that influenced them may have just been left out by the Maesters, just because they were inconsequential to the realm. So we should not judge them just because of what is written in one book."


"I understand. It's just... I never assumed our ancestors were so..."


"Human?" Jon wrote with a hint of understanding in his beady eyes, "Because that is what they are... They may have had the might of dragons under their command, and they may have ruled the seven kingdoms for a few centuries, but no matter what anyone tells you, they were not gods.


They felt love, anger, greed, guilt and all the other emotions just like any other man or woman out there, and it is just because their decisions affect the whole realm that they seem so excessive in everything they do."


Daenerys remained silent for a few moments before she quietly asked, "Many people must have died during their conflicts, right?"


Jon thought for a few seconds before answering, "The Maesters say that the realm's population more than halved during that period, but there were other factors that contributed more to it, such as the spring sickness and the winter fever that hit Westeros shortly after the war, so it may have been an exaggeration. But yes, in the end, at least a hundred to two hundred thousand deaths have been attributed to that civil war,"


Even after knowing about the events, Daenerys was still absolutely shocked by the massive death toll.


"My brother... always made it seem," The girl mumbled to herself with unfocused eyes, "That the Targaryen family were the epitome of perfection, that the whole realm adored them, that seven kingdoms had prospered under our rule like never before, and that the realm wept when we were overthrown, that they secretly kept banner of our family to await our return..." she suddenly looked down at Jon with a wry smile on her face, "The smallfolks are not really waiting for the Targaryen family to take back the throne, are they?"


"Perhaps some are, who knows?" Jon wrote back with a shrug, "As far as I have witnessed, most smallfolks have short memories, and as long as they have food in their bellies they don't really care who sits on which ugly chair next,"


"Hm," The girl nodded quietly, before suddenly a bright smile appeared on her face. "So, what is the next book you are going to get me? Is it going to be one about the events after the Dance, or is it going to be a geography book? You know, similar to the one about all the wonders in Westeros, because I liked reading that..."


"You have already learnt about the history of the Seven Kingdoms, before and after Aegon's conquest, and now that you have also read about the Dance, I think it is time for us to move on to more recent history."


"R-Recent history, you say?" Daenerys gulped in a somewhat nervous voice.


She already had many of her previous misconceptions about her family destroyed by these books, so safe to say the girl was very frightened about what she would find out next.


"Yes. My friend shall deliver the book to your room sometime during the evening, and..." Here the rat hesitated for a moment, looking at the girl with something akin to pity, before his eyes firmed up, "I need you to promise me that whatever information you find in there... You will keep an open mind about it."


"I... Yes, I will,"


Jon nodded, gave her a friendly wave and then disappeared from Gan's body, hoping that the girl finds the inner strength to stand on her promise.


...


She didn't...


Red-eyes, puffy cheeks, angry nostrils, and dishevelled hair that indicated a night without sleep...


That was the condition in which Jon found Daenerys in, the next time he arrived in Gan's body.


"Hello, Daenerys, how are you—"


"Who wrote this book?!" The last Targaryen girl immediately asked while slamming the said book on the table in front of Jon, scaring the rat so much that he almost lost control of its body, which had never happened to Jon in all his career as a warg.


"Daenery, I—" Jon began to explain, but the girl was not having it that day, as she directly cleared off the ink before Jon was able to write more than a few words.


"Just tell me who?!"


"...Maester Garbald," Jon answered truthfully, not wanting to get on the girl's nerves more than necessary.


"A Maester?! One from that Citadel?" she angrily asked, tightly gripping the book as if wanting to tear it to pieces, "Why? Why would he write such lies? Who paid him to do it? Wait—was he working for the Usurpers?"


"No, Daenerys, listen to me, I—"


"No, I will not listen to you," she shouted in an enraged voice, before standing up so fast that she sent the chair flying... not that the girl cared about it at the moment, "Everything in this book is a damn lie!! Everything!" she screamed as she threw the book towards the wall.


Now, Jon was more than a little panicked, as there was almost a fifty percent chance that a maid had heard the commotion and was on her way here, so he knew he did not have much time if he wanted to keep his cover, "Daenerys! please calm down—" he tried to write as fast as he could but his claws just weren't fast enough for the furious girl.


"Why would you tell me such lies, Jon?" The girl asked in a dejected tone, "Are you working for the Usurper too?"


"No, of course not," Jon hastily wrote, cursing Gan's inability to speak, "You promised me Daenerys, that you would keep an open—"


"I do not care what I promised!" The girl replied furiously, "I will never believe these lies, that my father was a... that he ra..." her voice broke a little at the end, as big fat tears began dropping down her cheeks.


"Everyone knows this as the truth, Daenerys. Everyone!" Jon wrote quickly with a beeseching look in his eyes, "It was a well-known fact even before the rebellion."


Daenerys was silent for a few moments before she abruptly raised her eyes and asked in a soft voice, "Everyone knows you say,"


"Yes, but—"


"Then I need to speak to my brother," she calmly stated and immediately walked towards the door.


"Daenerys, no—Chi! Chi!!" Gan squeaked as loud as he could, but it was completely futile as the girl resolutely left the room.


'Ah, this is such a mess.'


Jon groaned while massaging his tiny head to alleviate the headache that he was experiencing, even in his warg mode.


He had known that her reaction would be an adverse one when she learned the truth about Aerys Targaryen, but he had still underestimated the sheer hysteria... and now he needed to deal with the fallout.


Thankfully, Jon had been prepared for such an eventuality and had Frost on standby in the sky, so it was not the worst-case scenario yet.


Barely a few seconds after Daenerys left in anger, Frost swooped into the room headfirst with her wings tucked closed to her side to fit through the window.


Her size was much too big to fly around the room, so she had to wobble on her two legs, but it still did not take her long to gather all the incriminating evidence that Jon had shared with Daenerys over the week.


Things such as maps, small trinkets, flowers from Westeros, and even a few pieces of jewellery belonging to her Mother that the siblings had been forced to sell during their hard time.


It was not actually very hard for Jon to gather information on the jewellery's whereabouts, and once he knew where they were placed... well, there were a few things in this world that he couldn't retrieve once he decided he wanted them.


Anyhow, at most a minute later, all the things had been laid on a long piece of cloth, including the book that had been roughly thrown against the wall, and, in its place, a completely mundane book was put upon the desk to serve as a substitute.


With Gan's help, Frost managed to turn the cloth into a portable bag that she could grab onto with her claws and then, with a final nod at the rat, she bolted out of the window, once again making sure that her wings did not hit the window.


All in all, the operation had been completed in under two minutes, and now Gan just needed to hide and wait for the inevitable shit show.


As he expected, some five minutes after Frost had left, the door to the room slammed open, and in came a very furious-looking Viserys, roughly pulling his sister behind him.


The girl was crying and had a clear red palm print on her face, indicating that Viserys had not been very gentle in showing his displeasure after his sister asked him her questions.


His eyes fiercely scanned the room before they stopped to settle on the book placed on the vanity table.


Having found his target, Viserys immediately went over to grab the book, "Is this one?!" he turned and asked with a sneer, and when his sister did not answer him immediately, he grabbed her arm as hard as he could and brutally shook her, "Tell me!! Is this the damn book?!"


"I—Yes!" Daenerys answered in a scared voice.


The girl just wanted it to be over, so she did not even bother to look at the book in her brother's hand.


Viserys looked at the title of the book in his hand, and for a moment, he got confused as he wondered why a book about the Geography of Westeros would have any mention of his father in it.


But he had no patience to read the whole book and find out the reason, so instead he just decided to deal with it in the best way that he could... by chucking it straight into the fireplace.


"No more books for you... ever." He ordered while turning back towards his sister, "Do you understand?"


"Yes," Daenerys nodded quietly, her eyes not raising from the floor.


"And if I hear you speak this way about our father, and spread those lies ever again, then..." he grabbed her hair and ruthlessly pulled them up, "Ah!!", forcing her to look at him, "You will not like what I have in store for you," he warned in a nasty tone, his eyes taking on a dangerous gleam that scared the girl more than she had ever been before.


Daenerys tearfully nodded her head, acknowledging his threat.


"Good," Viserys said, releasing her and backing away, but suddenly out of nowhere, he brutally slapped her with the back of his hand, sending the girl straight towards the floor.


Unfortunately, that little cry was the only reaction that Daenerys gave, leaving Viserys a little disappointed, as he had been hoping to teach the girl more of a lesson, but it seemed that the girl had finally learned her place.


Snorting at the pathetic visage of his sister, Viserys left the room without a backwards glance.


For a few seconds, Daenerys just sat there on the floor sniffling, deeply regretting her impulsiveness, but then she suddenly heard a very familiar squeaking voice.


Almost immediately, a look of immense relief appeared on her face as she looked up to catch the familiar figure of Gan the rat still standing on her desk. "You're still here," she cried as she hastily got up and ran to her vanity table.


"Are you fine?" The rat immediately wrote with a look of concern on its face.


It had been very hard for Jon to watch everything that had transpired and somehow suppress his urge to just have Frost rip that trash's head clean off.


Because he knew that no matter how hateful that shit was, it would still be very traumatic for Daenerys if her brother became a headless body right in front of her... but it had nonetheless been a very close thing, especially towards the end.


"I-I am fine," she answered with a forced smile while waving away his concern as if what had happened was not a big deal, "But... I am really sorry for reacting like that," she said in a small voice.


"No problem," Jon wrote while comforting her by patting his tiny claws on her fist, "We all have our moments now and then."


"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile on her face, very relieved that she was not being blamed even when she had acted so stupidly.


"I guess from your brother's reaction that you asked him about your father," Jon asked after Daenerys had calmed down a bit.


"Yes," The girl nodded her head, "But don't worry, I did not tell him anything about you or how you gave me the book. I just told him that I had found the book when I last went to the market."


"That was quite smart of you, Daenerys," Jon replied with a hint of relief in his eyes. He was quite happy that his cover had not been blown and that his plan could still go unhindered.


"It's just a shame about the book, though," she said remorsefully while looking towards the fireplace where the book had been reduced to half its original size in the midst of the fire. "It must have been quite expensive, right?"


"It was indeed priceless, but do not worry, I didn't buy it, I just 'borrowed' it from the Citadel for a while," Jon wrote with a shrug, not mentioning that those old rats were completely unaware of any such borrowings.


"That is... good, I guess," Daenerys replied with a confused expression, before she looked down and fell silent.


Jon knew that the girl probably wanted to avoid talking about it, but he also knew that they would have to do it sooner or later; as far as he knew, it was always better to rip off the bandage in one go.


"So, did your brother answer your questions?"


"No, he did not," The girl replied after a few seconds, "At least not truthfully,"


"What do you mean?"


"I... When I asked him if our father was a good man, he instantly answered with a yes." Daenerys answered in a low voice, "But when I asked him if our father loved our mother, his answer was not so immediate..."


"Oh..."


"Yes, he tried to hide it but I could see that he was uncomfortable with the question," Daenerys said with a depressed smile on her face, "Eventually, he said to me, that our mother was a good wife who did her duty by her husband, and our father in return protected her from all the enemies like a proper husband, and that is all one needs from a marriage,"


"But even though he did not say it, I knew what the real answer was from the look on his face," The girl said with quivering lips, trying hard to stop herself from crying, "If even my brother, who practically idolizes my father, was uncomfortable with it, then I knew that it must have been all true... that my father," she practically spat the word here, "was indeed abusing and r-raping my mother,"


Daenerys' eyes were blazing in fury as they had never before, and Jon had no idea what he should do here.


Should he comfort her, or should he get angry with her and disparage her father, or perhaps he should comfort her by saying that her mother was in a better place now?


But thankfully, Jon did not have to do anything in the end, as the girl took a deep breath and managed to calm down on her own.


"I had, of course, been very angry after that, so I blurted my next question without thinking." Daenerys continued while looking down at her hands, "I asked him if he remembered what Aerys was like during his last days, if Viserys remembered what he looked like, if he really became so paranoid that he stopped bathing, stopped cutting his nails in fear of assassins, and if he revelled in watching people get burned to their death, I asked him if he knew that our father was insane..." Daenerys finished in one go before turning back towards Jon.


"...you can imagine what happened next," she said, pointing towards the red prints on her face with a miserable smile, "I was quite stupid, wasn't I?"


"No, Daenerys, you were not stupid... You had every right to be angry, and you did what any child would have done if they found out that one of their parent was a..."


"Monster?" the girl supplied with a detached look in her eyes, "Anyway, he asked me where I learned all these 'lies' from, and I told him the lie about buying the book from the market... and, well, you already saw what happened next,"


They sat in silence for a few moments before Jon wrote once again, "You need to remember, Daenerys, that your Father was not like that from the beginning... I mean, he was never a good king or even a good person, but he was at least sane."


"But then, some bad things happened, and they completely broke him from the inside, they turned him into the man he was at the end, and I am not trying to absolve him of his faults here by telling you that.. I just want to caution you that we all, especially we of dragon blood, have a deep darkness inside of us, and it was only because of his weak will that he so easily succumbed to it, and let it take over his heart."


Daenerys looked thoughtful for a few seconds before quietly asking, "Is my brother walking on the same road as my father?"


"I...yes, perhaps," Jon tried to answer as truthfully as he could, "You could never be sure of these things, but I think that if he continues like he has, then eventually... yes, your brother, too, would become like your father."


The room fell silent after that, and for almost five minutes the girl did not say a single word.


She just stared at her reflection in the mirror with unseeing eyes, wondering if her mother's face had resembled hers after her father abused her.


"Don't worry, Daenerys, everything will be—"


"I want to take you up on your previous offer, Jon," The girl interrupted while looking at this strange relative of hers with a determined look in her eyes, "I want to leave the mansion."


There was a short moment of surprise where the rat just looked at her with its mouth wide open, but then a large grin appeared on its face as it hurriedly nodded, 'Yes, finally.'


///

You know where to go if you cannot wait to read ahead...

 

[oscar e Sampedro Lopez]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[ATP]

Good,but where Jon plan to hide her? he certainly could not take her to North.And who would come to rescue Dany? Jon himself have other things to do, like killing Mountain and pretending that he have notching to do with it.

 

[LazyWizard]

"Are you sure that this is the place, Father?" Nymeria asked with an eyebrow raised in scepticism as she squinted to try and see through the darkness.


The time was just before dawn, with only a hint of light from the half moon shining down giving them just a hint of visibility otherwise, they would have been completely blind and would not even have made it to this spot.


"Yes. I am quite sure," Oberyn replied distractedly while untying the luggage from his horse.


He had been expressly told to travel light, so the only things the man had bought with him were his weapons, his other weapons, his poison kit, and two changes of clothes.


"But there is nothing here," Nymeria cried in a confused voice, "I look left, I see nothing but sand, I look right, the same. And there is nothing behind us for leagues and leagues. With the big wide ocean in the front, how is anyone even supposed to find us here?"


"Nymeria is right," Sarella commented while unloading her luggage with a thoughtful expression on her face, as if trying to solve a puzzle, "How did your contact even manage to give this location to you? There are no distinct landmarks around us..."


"He did not need to," Oberyn answered with a shrug as he went on to unload his daughter Nymeria's luggage, who was too busy scouting the surroundings to do it herself. Hers was almost twice as heavy as Oberyn's luggage had been, and this was after he had reprimanded her thrice about excess load, "My friend just told me to find the nearest isolated coast and head towards there. He is supposed to meet us here at the break of dawn."


"Is this friend of yours really trustworthy?" Nymeria asked in a doubtful tone, her hand unconsciously sheathing and unsheathing the dagger at her waist, "Are you sure you were not duped by a crook, I mean I know that—Wait!! What are you—"


But her shouts went ignored as Oberyn commanded, "Go!" while slapping his horse's backside making it loudly neigh and take off, with the other two startled beasts following it soon after.


"W-Why would you do that, Father?!" Nymeria asked in a dumbfounded voice, "That was our way back!! What are we going to do if no one shows up?" she whined, her voice sounding a little hysterical, "We would have to walk for days to reach the nearest village, and we did not even bring any food because you wanted us to travel light,"


"And?" Oberyn asked back with a raised eyebrow, unmoved by the panic on his daughter's face, "Were you two, not the ones who wanted to go on an adventure with your old man? So why are you so scared of just a few days of walking? How are you then going to cope with all the difficulties ahead? Are you really sure you are ready for this trip?"


"But—"


"Calm down, Nymeria," Sarella interjected after taking a deep breath, having calmed down from her shock of seeing their horses run away, "Father is right. We promised him that we would follow all his orders while we are with him, so if he says it is fine for us to lose our only mode of travelling in the middle of nowhere then... we just need to believe in him." she told Nymeria in a serious voice, making the girl look away with a pout at the sudden lecture, "That said, I don't think our father would have done it if he did not have some kind of assurance that we will be quickly found," she whispered to Nymeria with a smile, "Though for the life of me I can not figure out how," she mumbled to herself with a frustrated glance at her surroundings.


"Oh, do not be so sure, my dear daughter," Oberyn said with a smirk, "Maybe I just wanted to teach my girls a lesson and this is all just an elaborate hoax,"


"No, that is not it," Sarella replied with an confident smile on her face, "Not only would that be too complicated for you, but you are also lazier than Arriane when it comes to trivial matters, so lesson or not, there is no chance of you waking up so early if you were not sure about the time of our pick up."


"Hm, I feel like there is an insult somewhere in there," Oberyn mumbled with a frown on his face, "What do you think?" he asked while turning towards his other daughter.


"Ugh! Who knows?" Nyermia replied raising her hands in exasperation, before she unceremoniously sat down on the sand, "I don't understand half the things she says... so how long do we even have to wait?"


Oberyn rolled his eyes but replied nonetheless, "Like I said, he will arrive at the break of dawn, and—"


"Which if I am not wrong..." Sarella interrupted while pointing towards the horizon in the East, "is already upon us,"


And she was right, as just a few seconds after her pointing it out, the first rays of the sun shone upon the sand dunes of Dorne turning them a beautiful gold.


"So, the dawn is here... but there is still no sign of that ship of yours," Nymeria murmured while scouting the dark wide ocean with her eyes narrowed, trying to pick out a ship-sized shadow.


"Give it a few minutes," Oberyn said calmly, while placing his far-eye on his eye, "I am sure he will—Oh, there it is,"


"What? Where?!" Both of Oberyn's daughters exclaimed as they followed his line of sight, and sure enough, after a few seconds of searching, they were able to pick out the pebble-size shape of a dark ship that was steadily getting bigger as it approached the shore.


"They really managed to find our exact location, huh," Nymeria let out in an amazed voice.


"B-But how is this even possible?" Sarella asked in a disbelieving, "They shouldn't even have been able to see in the darkness. How did they even know that we would be here?"


"Oh, that's Jon for you," Oberyn said with a shrug as if that explained everything, "He does these kinds of things from time to time, so it would be good for your mental health if you do not try and figure him out, and just go with the flow... otherwise, you will be left pulling your hair out all night long, with no answers to show for,"


"You say that as if he is a witch or something like that," Sarella said with a snort but got stunned when her father did not deny her immediately.


"Who knows," Oberyn murmured with a nonchalant look on his face, "I don't,"


"Here they come," Nymeria interrupted in an eager voice as she stood up from the sand, "But, wait! Why are they stopping all the way there?"


That ship was still more than 15 knots away from the shore when it suddenly stopped approaching them and just floated there, bobbing in its place up and down.


"Considering the ship's size and the shallow water along the beach... it makes sense that they stopped there," Sarella said with a frown on her face, "But still... they don't expect us to swim all the way there, do they?"


"Of course not," Oberyn answered with a shake of his head, "Jon knows that we have our luggage with us so he would not make us swim to the ship, especially not in these currents."


"Then how are we supposed to cross the—"


"Aha, there comes our ride," Oberyn exclaimed with a smile on his face while pointing towards a small boat that suddenly came into view from around the ship.


"Finally," Nymeria said with a hint of excitement in her tone as she hurriedly bent down to pick up her luggage from the sand, "Let's go,"


"Wait!" Oberyn said with an absurd expression on his face, "Am I seeing things or is that boat completely empty?"


"What? Don't be absurd." Sarella scoffed while snatching the far-eye from her father's hand, "How can a boat move without anyone to row..." the girl trailed off and her jaw dropped down when she realised that her father was right, there indeed was no one on the boat, "How is this even possible?" she whispered dumbfoundedly.


"There is always something new to see with that lad," Oberyn muttered while shaking his head with a wry smile on his face.


"Huh? Maybe they just pushed it a little from behind and the flow is carrying it the rest of the way towards us," Nymeria suggested with an uncaring shrug.


"Not only is that completely unreliable, but the flow is very erratic and would have carried it away from the shore, not towards us," Sarella immediately replied without looking away from the boat.


"Then perhaps they used a rope,"


"How in seven hells would that even work?" Sarella asked with an exasperated look on her face.


"How the hell would I know," Nymeria replied with a roll of her eyes, "And who cares how it arrives here, anyway. What matters, is that it is here," she said as she bent down and picked up her luggage before walking towards the boat that was now only a few seconds away from the shore, "So you need to stop all this useless thinking and just get on the bloody boat."


"Easy for you to say, when—AH!! What the Fuck!!" Sarella abruptly screamed, lurching backwards as she tripped over her own feet and fell down while looking at the boat with her eyes widened in terror.


"What?! What happened?" Oberyn and Nymeria hurriedly asked while vigilantly scouring their surroundings with their hand on their weapons.


"A-A Monster!" Sarella replied while pointing a shaky finger towards the water under the boat where she had, just for a moment, seen the scariest shadowy tentacle that was large enough to crush all three of them in its grip, "T-There! Under the boat! I-I saw something there!"


"That's all?!" Nymeria asked with an irked look on her face, as all the tension left her body, "Here I thought we were getting attacked or something, and instead, you were just getting scared of a bloody fish," she said in annoyance while standing up, "Did reading all those books at the citadel fry your brains or something?"


"But—" Sarella stammered while trying to calm down her breathing, wondering if she had really been overreacting, 'Fish can't get that big can they?"


Unlike his daughter, who had immediately dismissed her sister's claim as a trick of the eye, Obeyrn was looking towards the sea with a serious frown on his face, wondering if this was a new trick that Jon had learned during the short time that they had separated, 'I would not put it past that boy,'


"Come on now," Nymeria shouted as she went through the shallow water to grab the boat. After placing her luggage inside, Nymeria jumped into the boat and turned towards the other two before impatiently waving at them, "Hurry up, or else that Jon fellow would think that we are getting cold feet and do not want to go with them."


"Are you fine?" Oberyn asked as he took Sarella's hand and pulled her up.


"I-Yes," Sarella nodded before taking a deep breath as a forced smile appeared on her face, "Nymeria is right, it must have been just a big fish,"


"If you say so," Oberyn said with a searching gaze before he whispered with a smile, "Good, let us move to the boat then, otherwise your sister may just leave us here in her excitement,"


"I would not put that past her," Sarella snorted wryly as they went and took their seats on the small boat that had just enough space for the three of them to sit comfortably along with their luggage.


Oberyn and Nymeria took over rowing from both ends while Sarella sat in the middle and held onto the luggage so that it didn't fall off.


The ocean waves were thankfully calm, so it did not take them too long to reach the big sleek ship, where the helpful sailors had already lowered a rope for them.


After tying the heaviest luggage on his back, Oberyn became the first one to grab the rope and climb up.


It was a bit strenuous for him to pull his whole body along with the bag with just his arms, what with the side of the ship being slippery and wet under his feet.


But his dedicated training in the recent weeks had paid off, so with his strength and stamina at their peak, he at least did not falter and embarrass himself in front of his daughters.


The moment Oberyn went over the hull of the ship, the first person that came in front of him was the familiar figure of his favourite Northerner which immediately brought a smile to his face.


"Jon, my friend, it is so good to see you again," he greeted with his arms wide open for a hug, but unlike the cheerfulness he sported, his friend's face was completely blank with not a hint of amusement at seeing him, "Er, Jon?" Oberyn asked confusedly as he was left standing there awkwardly, in front of all the sailors, with his hands in the air.


"You brought your daughters with you," Jon stated with a raised eyebrow that betrayed the irritation he felt at the moment.


"Ah, that," Oberyn said while scratching his head with an uneasy smile, "You see there were... some unusual circumstances— that were completely out of my hand— due to which, ahem, I was forced to bring them here," he explained in a low voice so that the nearby sailors who looking curiously at them did not hear, "But do not worry Jon, they are good warriors with specialised skills, so they will not be a burden to us, I assure you."


Jon looked at him with narrowed eyes before he sighed, "We are going to kill one of the most dangerous men in Westeros and you thought bringing your 'brats' along was a good idea,"


"Like I said, I had no choice in—"


"Who the hell are you calling a brat?!" a voice loudly interrupted them, as a long pair of legs agilely landed on the deck.


Jon had only bought his most trusted Northern sailors on this trip, who had been with him from the very beginning, so he had not bothered lowering his voice, which had the unfortunate effect of irking the beautiful and deadly Nymeria Sand.


After a quick glance at the sailors on board the ship, who all looked very strong and skilled in her eyes, Nymeria turned towards the one who had so derisively called her and her sisters 'brats.


The moment she did, the sand snake was immediately taken aback by how young (ironically) and handsome the man was.


He was almost as tall as her father and had the tight wiry muscles that only years of daily training in the yard produced. He was carrying a sword on his hip and had a big sturdy bow at his side, and carried himself with the air of a warrior who was very confident in himself.


But no matter how tall or strong he looked, his face gave away the fact that he was nothing more than a teen.


"Jon, meet my beautiful daughter, Nymeria," Oberyn introduced with a smile, relieved to be able to move on from the topic, "And Nymeria, this Jon Snow, the Captain of the ship, the one I told you about—"


"Wait!! Him?!" Nymeria exclaimed with an absurd look on her face, "He is the captain of this ship? This Child?!" she asked with an exaggerated look of shock on her face to which Oberyn nodded with an amused smile while Jon rolled his eyes at the obvious revenge the pretty dornish girl was taking against him.


"Can you even tie a rope, little boy?" she asked with a snort as she slowly sauntered closer to Jon.


"Nymeria, please—"


"How about the fancy sword on your waist? Do you know how to swing it, 'Captain Jon,'" she talked over her father while looking disdainfully at Jon, which looked a little comical considering that she was almost a head smaller than him, "Or is it just a show piece?"


"I am average," Jon replied dryly, trying hard not to let it show how entertained he was at this little show of dominance.


"Then how about we go for a round or two to get acquainted with each other?" she taunted while looking at him with big innocent eyes, but her fingers gripping her dagger gave her eagerness away, "You would not be scared of a weak little girl, would you?"


"Nymeria, back down!" an exasperated voice suddenly interjected before Jon could give an answer to the sudden offer.


Sarella was quite irritated to find, when she finally reached the top after a long excruciating climb, that her stupid sister was threatening the very Captain of this ship that they were on, with dozen of his men surrounding them.


"I am sorry for my sister's conduct—" Sarella began apologetically but the moment she put her luggage down and finally caught sight of Jon's face, her words died in her throat as her eyes bulged in shock.


"You!! What the hell are you doing here?!!" the girl shouted in shock as she recognised the so-called Captain Jon as the same boy who had once held her hostage so many months ago at the Citadel.


'This is going to be a nightmare,' Jon thought with a tired sigh, knowing that his mission just turned a whole lot more troublesome.


///

 

[Psyckosama]

They're both going to end this adventure barefoot and pregnant, aren't they?