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A Prince of House Targaryen Chapter 39 (To The South)
🕑 Added 2022-12-18 18:38:36 +0000 UTCEddard Stark
He was wearing his cloak and boots, preparing himself for a new day. Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell entered the Great Hall of his home. His eyes looked at the Hall of his family, the faces of the people he had seen for decades; his hand touched the walls of his home; it felt warm, his eyes memorizing everything, trying to remember every little detail, even the most unimportant ones, he felt a little foolish, he had seen the same Hall for so many years now, yet, today it felt as if he was seeing it for the first time.
Servants walked around the Hall, cleaning the tables and the windows; many bowed their heads respectfully when he passed through and brought cups of water and beer. Ned wasn't someone to drink beer daily, but today was a special day.
Grabbing the cup, he allowed the bitter liquid to touch his lips; he drank it down with one breath, the liquid slipping down his throat, cold and bitter, he felt a headache, but he ignored it as he put down the cup made of wood, The Direwolf of House Stark carved into it. His lady wife looked bewildered, seeing him drink at the first light of the morrow; she knew her husband wasn't someone to drink alcohol in general unless it was a special occasion.
"Ned, are you alright?" Catelyn questioned, concerned, her hand touching his hand; Ned hadn't told her yet about the upcoming tourney. There was no need to do so; Maester Luwin and Benjen had helped with everything they could. Robb had promised him to be a man he would be proud of, Ned believed his son, and knowing Lord Manderly, he wasn't a man to Miss any Tourneys, especially one as big as this one. Ned believed the whole realm would be there, knights from all over the realm would be there, and lords would bring their children and grandchildren in hopes of securing a marriage with any of the Royal Children.
Ned had no doubts Lord Manderly would bring his granddaughters along, this would be a perfect opportunity for Robb and her to spend time together, and perhaps he could even have a dance with her. Ned hoped that, eventually, love would blossom between them. Ned knew the feeling of marrying a woman you don't love or desire, but there was no point in cursing life; Ned had accepted his fate, and eventually, love had blossomed between him and Catelyn, even if a small part of him always wondered how things would have been if she had been here instead of Catelyn.
Ned was a little concerned about Rickon; last night, they found him alone in the Crypts with his direwolf; when Ned asked why he had been there, he said in his childish voice that Aunt Lyanna was in the crypts and crying.
Ned's heart had almost stopped hearing his words, surely, he knew that was impossible and had personally checked the first level of the Crypts, but nothing out of the ordinary other than a deep red rose on Lyanna's stone hands.
Ned didn't know how the rose got there, nor did Rickon, who said the rose was there when he entered the crypts. After the little incidents, Ned checked the bedchamber of all of his children. All of them were soundly sleeping in their beds.
He had wanted to check Jon's bed chamber as well, but he was a married man now; Ned didn't want to enter at an inappropriate time or hear something he didn't want to hear.
"Everything's alright, Cat. I just needed one to calm myself," Ned said with a sad smile splattered across his face, drinking water to wash away the bitter taste from his lips. Catelyn looked at him with skepticism but nodded shortly after.
Ned saw none of his children in the Hall; he was about to ask Ser Rodrik where his children were when the door opened, revealing Jon walking inside, wearing a heavy black coat with boiled leather, Val holding his arm beside him wearing her usual white outfit, walking together like a married couple would, Ghost walking at Val's side as if protecting her, Ned wondered why that was but quickly dismissed the thought.
Ned wasn't surprised to see many turn heads when Val entered, she might be a wildling in nature, but in beauty, she was a Princess, Ned thought. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Catelyn seething at the sight of them, her face turned redder, and Ned wasn't sure anymore if it was because of Lady Val or Jon or maybe both.
It didn't take long for Arya and Bran to enter; behind them were Theon and Robb. The Greyjoy was talking about something in hushed tones with Robb; whatever it was made Robb roll his eyes before increasing his walking pace as if wanting to walk away from him.
Ned looked at his son carefully as he sat on the high table, greeting Jon like a brother and Val with formality, his eyes not showing anything to indicate that he was looking at a woman he desired. Ned allowed himself to sigh in relief; Robb sat beside Ned, not with Theon, who released a grunt when Robb didn't sit with him.
Ned wondered why that was the case, but perhaps it was just some foolish reason. Nymeria and Summer were playing with each other, and Arya was talking with Bran, showing him something under the table.
Sansa entered next, accompanied by Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole. Sansa was dressed beautifully in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair and a silver chain around her neck. She knew soldiers were looking at her, and it pleased her, but the one person she wanted to look at her wasn't looking.
Accompanied by Lady who was just as dutiful as she was, walking with grace as a lady should. Septa Mordane had told her that a Lady like her shouldn't have a beast for a friend, but that was the one thing she couldn't agree with Septa.
Sansa listened to everything her mother and Septa told her, do your duties, look beautiful, sew, and act like a lady. She loved to do that, and she took great care of her clothes, but getting rid of Lady, was the one thing Sansa hadn't done.
When she had refused, Septa Mordane had looked at her with disappointment for the very first time, but Sansa had not cared; her Direwolf stayed with her.
Ned watched as his eldest daughter sat on Catelyn's side. When Rickon entered, he was walking beside his direwolf, almost like hugging him; his little legs brought him to Bran, his eyes looking at Jon with longing and a hint of sadness. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.
It didn't take long for Benjen to arrive, his little brother giving him a look as he sat. He sat almost in a hurry, eating a piece of bread without talking with anyone.
Silence fell over the Hall as Ned enjoyed the meal more than he had ever before; he had eaten the same meal before, but it wasn't anything special, roasted bread with sausage covered in onions. Ned savored the taste; it had more flavor than usual. His eyes saw his whole family; they all seemed happy, and a part of him wished this would never end. Bran and Arya were laughing at each other. Jon was telling something to Val, and the latter chuckled. Sansa was laughing at something Jeyne told her.
Ned closed his eyes for a moment; hearing the laughter and his family happy, he felt at peace. For a moment, he thought that everything would turn out alright in the end. Opening his eyes, his family happy, he knew this would be an excellent opportunity to announce their journey South.
Grabbing the cup, he tapped the table with the bottom of the cup, loud enough for everyone to hear. Silence fell over the Hall, all heads turning to him.
"My family. I would like to announce that a Tourney in Harrenhall will be held within seventeen days. The whole realm had been invited there. Tomorrow, House Stark, except Benjen, will be riding to Harrenhal." Benjen looked down at his food when Ned said that.
"I received word from many houses of the North that they will be there to present The North and its strength. Tomorrow at first light, we will leave for Harrenhal," Ned finished, his voice booming like a horn of war throughout the entire Hall.
Rickon suddenly looked scared when his father announced that, his figure almost shrinking at the chair he was sitting, sliding down, almost under the table now. His hands went around his direwolf, hugging him close. It helped to calm himself. "It was just a Dream!" He murmured to himself and Shaggydog, the direwolf licking his face, seeing his owner was scared and worried.
Bran beamed upon hearing that he would be able to see knights from all over the realm. He couldn't wait to see the likes of Arthur Dayne, Barristan The Bold, and Jaime Lannister. All of them would be there; Bran couldn't contain himself from jumping from the chair, almost making it fall behind. Summer was suddenly as excited as him, his tail wagging around.
Arya looked both intrigued and annoyed by the announcement. She wanted to see fighters she had heard so much about, but she knew her mother's desire to betroth them in the South. Arya knew she was still young, but there were cases when children were betrothed when they were still in cribs. Arya pet Nymeria behind the ear, her direwolf suddenly as tense as she was.
It took everything for Sansa not to jump up from joy and excitement, but she knew not to act like that. A lady shouldn't act like that, she told herself. Instead of that, she smiled brightly, her friend Jeyne telling her that perhaps she would be betrothed to the son of a High Lord or even the Crown Prince himself.
Sansa nodded, sharing her enthusiasm; feeling her heart fluttering, she hoped that would be the case. She wanted nothing more than to become a Queen. That was her dream. My husband will be the most powerful man in Westeros; everyone will kneel before us, she thought, her face bushed at the thought.
Robb simply tightened his jaw, he wasn't as excited as the others at the thought of going South, but he knew this could be a good opportunity to enter the Tourney, he doubted he would win, but Robb knew he needed to show his strength to the rest of the Northern Lords. They would want to see if Robb was truly capable of leading them.
Catelyn's face was as blank as a board, but inside, her heart was pounding in her throat, and her eyes briefly flickered at her eldest son and daughter. They were both at the right age for betrothal; sure her son was already betrothed to Lord Manderly's granddaughter, while Catelyn would have loved a betrothal between her son and perhaps a more powerful house like the Tyrells or even one of the princesses. Still, her son was betrothed, and she wouldn't try to take that away. Catelyn knew how she felt when the news came that the Mad King burned Brandon. Wynafryd Manderly was a good lady and would bring House Stark many Strong boys.
But her daughter was yet to be betrothed; Catelyn could think of many good sons that would be a perfect match for her daughter, the son of Jaime Lannister would be a good match, but she didn't really want her daughter to marry the son of a dishonorable man like the Kingslayer, another could be Aegon Targaryen, The Crown Prince. Catelyn saw nothing wrong with it, her daughter would be a Queen, and Tully blood would be on the Iron Throne, just as her father had wanted for so long.
Catelyn felt a pang in her heart at the thought of him; she hadn't seen him in years, but his dream to put Tully Blood on the Iron Throne would be fulfilled one day. She knew it.
Jon wasn't sure how to feel. The time was coming he would meet his family, but he didn't know how to feel. A part of him told him to take Val and fly away together somewhere, to live the rest of their days in peace.
Feeling a hand on top of his, Jon turned to his left to see Val caressing his hand gently. "What is going through that empty head of yours?" She whispered softly, her thumb caressing the top of his hand, her breath tickling his face.
"...Nothing," Jon stuttered out, loving the feeling of Val's hand, her skin smooth and flawless and warm; despite being from beyond the Wall, her body was warm and beautiful.
"Really? So you aren't thinking about meeting your real family?" Val asked, her voice a whisper for no one else to hear.
Jon looked at her, shocked, making the Wildling beauty almost giggle at his face. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. I have known you for the past four years. Do you really think I wouldn't be able to tell what you're thinking?" She questioned, with a little smirk, bearing her teeth, her tongue wetting her lips.
"I have gotten too predictable; perhaps I should change my way of thinking," Jon said teasingly, sneaking an arm around her waist and bringing her closer, her blonde hair falling over her face as she laughed; Jon moved it away just behind her ear.
"I'm thinking about it. A part of me thinks I should be happy, but another part is anxious and afraid!" Jon whispered, her head resting on his shoulder; the presence of everyone else had disappeared for them. For Jon and Val, it was only the two of them.
Val squeezed his hand; her lips kissed his cheek. "I can't say I understand the situation you're in, but if they do turn out to be the family you carved-" "You're my family, too," Jon interrupted, kissing her lips, earning a disgusted look from a certain She-Wolf.
Pulling away, she looked at him with a bright smile, her blue eyes looking back at him with love and lust. "You're mine too. Soon your other family will meet you. If they accept you, then nothing needs to change, but if they don't, then we can go back North if you want. I will follow you wherever you go," she promised. Jon smiled, already feeling better, her head resting at the top of his chest.
"Okay! Can you two lovebirds stop this?" Arya shouted, standing up from her chair, earning a burst of laughter from everyone. She made a gesture as if she was going to vomit, Bran laughing beside her.
Rhaegar Targaryen
Opening the door, he was greeted by the same sight he had seen for the last fourteen years, except for his son Aegon who had started being present at every small council meeting for the past three years.
Rhaegar allowed himself to smile, he knew he didn't deserve this, any of this, but he was happy. His son was sitting near the King's seat, his attention on a scroll in his hands; Queen Rhaella was also present, sitting across from Aegon.
Rhaegar's smile wavered slightly at the sight of his mother, her face stoic and as blank as a piece of stone; it had been two days now, but something had happened with his mother. She rarely talked with anyone, and all of them had tried to say anything, hoping she would reveal what was making her so angry. No, Rhaegar thought, his mother wasn't just angry; she was furious; her face and voice had gone stoic, but her eyes.
The King of the Seven Kingdoms has never seen a dragon outside of pictures made by artists, but if he had to guess, he would say his mother's eyes were like the eyes of an Awakened Dragon.
One thing Rhaegar hated was how her eyes right now reminded him a little of him.
Not that Rhaegar believed his mother was going mad. Still, she was simply furious about something. Whatever anyone asked her, she kept her mouth shut or occasionally dismissed them with a simple reply like 'I am fine' or 'Nothing's wrong.'
No one bought it, not even Viserys, but she had refused to elaborate, and Rhaegar didn't want to force her into telling him what the problem was. He just hoped that she would soon turn back to her normal self.
Finding his seat, Rhaegar saw that everyone was already at the council; clearing his throat loudly, everyone's attention was on him.
"Now that everyone is here, Lord Stannis, any news from Pentos?" Rhaegar started with one of the most obvious ones. The last four years hadn't been kind to the fleet of Westeros. Things had only gotten worse between Free Cities and Westeros. Trade was still active to a certain degree, but a group of mercenaries had started attacking ships from Westeros, all of which came from Pentos.
Rhaegar didn't know why Pentos would be against them, not to mention, Rhaegar had received information from his mother that half of The Golden Company had moved to Pentos and the other half were currently in Volantis. No one really knew why the Golden Company was split, but his mother was not happy.
Surprisingly, Varys had mentioned nothing about this; Rhaegar knew there was a chance that his Spymaster didn't find it important, but he had his doubts, and the Golden Company didn't have a good history with Westeros since the days of Aegor Rivers.
"I'm afraid the group of men I sent to make a deal has yet to send a message back to me. It has been three months, your grace," Stannis explained, his jaw tightening as if it would break, his teeth grinding, his lips turning into a fine line, almost disappearing.
Rhaegar looked around the council, hoping his mother had thought of something. They were currently with their hands tied behind their backs.
"My king, I think I have a plan," Aegon spoke, bowing his head at his father. Rhaegar gestured for his son to continue.
"Lord Stannis, you said yesterday they mostly attack the ships with silk, ironwood, and Dornish Wine?" Aegon questioned, turning to Lord Stannis, who looked at Aegon before nodding, his eyes showing intrigue.
"Yes, my prince,"
"From what we trade, Silk and Ironwood are one of the most valuable materials. Isn't that right, Lord Stannis?" Aegon questioned; on the open map spread on the table, he grabbed two figure ships, sliding them from Dragonstone to Pentos.
"Yes, your grace,"
"I want you to send exactly two ships with Ironwood and two with Dornish wine. The crown will cover all the expenses," Aegon requested, putting two more figure ships to the two boats in Pentos.
This confused the council, and Rhaegar decided to step into the conversation. "Why would we do that?" The King questioned, asking what everyone was thinking.
"That's because-" Aegon went on and explained his plan to the council; using the ships as poison and distraction was a good plan but a risky one.
"What do you think?" Aegon questioned, after finishing his plan, his eyes looking at everyone with expectations, especially at his grandmother and father.
Surprisingly Varys was the first to support his plan, which caught the attention of Aegon, who narrowed his eyes at the spider. The second was Jon Connington before the others nodded along, except Lord Stannis.
"My lord?" Aegon questioned; the man looked at the map one more time before grabbing a figure from the map.
"Ser Davos Seaworth, he's a man under my service. He will know how to execute the second part of the plan, your grace," Stannis added respectfully, putting the figure where the rest of the ships were.
Aegon tried very hard to suppress a smile from forming on his face. Yet, he felt delighted to know the council was supporting his plan. He just hoped that it would pay off.
Rhaegar felt pride to see his son take a bit of charge, the king hoped he had many years left to support his family, but it felt good to see his son show talent, even if the plan wasn't honorable.
"Now, lord Connington, anything new about my city?" Rhaegar asked his old friend once Aegon and Stannis sat down, Stannis looking at Aegon with a tiny hint of respect before turning his attention back at Jon Connington.
Rhaegar noticed his friend frown at the formal way he was calling him, but Rhaegar didn't really care. He had many other things to worry about.
"Nothing, my King. The small folk are the same they were the last decade, the same they were the last century." Jon answered with an uncaring tone; Rhaegar grunted but not loud enough to hear.
"Has Slyth been captured, my lord?" Rhaella questioned sharply after a short pause, looking at Jon with cold eyes. The man shrank under her gaze; gulping, he answered. "N-Not yet, my Queen, but I'm sure we will find him soon," Jon answered, his face pale, Rhaella narrowed his eyes and looked ready to say or perhaps even insult him, but Rhaegar decided to step in.
"Lord Connington. I want him captured within a week. Are we clear?" Rhaegar ordered, his hands slammed on the table; his old friend nodded quickly. The king turned his attention to the man he trusted the least.
"Lord Varys, any news from the Realm?" Rhaegar questioned, addressing the eunuch who leaned forward from his chair.
"Dragons, Your grace!" Varys said; silence fell over the large room; even Maester Pyrcell woke up from his slumber, many blinking, wondering if they heard him right.
"Dragons?" Jon Arryn repeated as if the word itself made no sense to him.
"What do you mean by 'Dragons' lord Varys?" Rhaella questioned sharply, her index finger tapping the top of the table, looking at the bald man whose hands were under his long sleeves.
"My little birds have informed me that many people around the Neck and North had reported seeing a Dragon flying above. They say the dragon is as white as snow and larger than Balerion himself," Varys informed them; it took everything for Rhaegar not to gasp.
Many of the lords looked at one another except Stannis and Rhaella, the latter giving Varys a sharp look.
"That's impossible, Lord Varys. The last dragon Dragonbane died in 153 AC. If this dragon is so majestic that it brings Balerion to shame, then how come no one has ever seen him before," Rhaella said blankly.
Rhaegar wondered why his mother was refusing the idea of a dragon being alive out there; he knew there was no way that was true, and he learned the hard way not to believe in prophecies.
Rhaegar Targaryen chose Lyanna Stark, and the Realm bled for it.
Rhaegar remembered the words from his dreams. He saw himself sitting on the iron throne, below him an ocean of blood and bones, the phrase repeating in his head until he woke up.
"Lord Varys, how many reports you got about the dragon?" Aegon questioned, unable to hide his excitement when the dragon was mentioned.
"Quite a few, your grace, but as I said, the majority of them came from the Neck or even North of the Neck, even from Winterfell, Wolf's Wood," Varys said blankly, his voice and face as unreadable as ever.
Rhaegar had to admit that there were quite a few places, and it couldn't be just people deep into cups or daydreaming, but his Muna had a point where this supposedly large dragon had been all this time.
"Varys, is there anything else? We haven't come here to discuss tales of drunken man," Rhaegar dismissed the information. For now, he doubted there was anything true to that, the dragons had died away, and Rhaegar knew not to chase rumors.
"Not really your grace, a report from the wall, another attack from the White Walkers," Varys informed them, his words earning a burst of laughter from the maester of Law.
Rhaegar glared at his old friend. Even if White Walkers were nothing but tales to scare children, his friend should know to act more professionally instead of laughing.
"Anything funny, Connington?" Rhaegar inquired with a grimace on his face.
His choice of words had the right effect, as Jon stopped laughing, seeing everyone looking at him as if he was a common fool who entertained people with stupid tricks and foolish jokes.
"N-Nothing, My King. I just thought it was funny. Just how many times are the Night's Watch going to send meaningless reports about their soldiers disappearing beyond the Wall? Is what, the thirteenth time this year?" Jon quickly defended himself, his voice with a hint of mockery towards the Watch.
Rhaegar knew the thought of White Walkers attacking was unbelievable and perhaps just a rumor, and his old friend was right. The Night's Watch this year had sent twelve letters, complaining about the White Walkers, saying a brother of the Watch died of a sickness, the very same turned the same night, almost killing Hoster Tully.
The King didn't know what to make of it. Many rapists and bandits were sent to the wall. He knew it wasn't the same as sending trained soldiers, but it was something; he made a mental note to talk with Lord Stark during the Tourney about the Night's Watch reports.
"Lord Connington, have you ever been to Volantis?" Stannis questioned, his eyes cold and hard, looking at Jon, who shifted uncomfortably on his chair.
"No, my lord!" Jon answered after a short pause.
"I have been there. There are things in this world that can't be explained. None of us has been Beyond The Wall; perhaps there's something there, The Tale of The Long Night is a story told all over the world, not just Westeros. Do you think many people around the world one day decide to make up the same story about White Walkers and A Night that nearly swallowed the Realm of Men?" Stannis questioned the Maester of Law, who had no answer, his face paling at the cold look Stannis was sending him.
Rhaegar had to admit that Stannis could make many men shudder just by his glare. The man didn't speak often but always spoke with meaning.
Rhaegar knew from all the scrolls that he had read before the rebellion that the Long Night was a story told even in Essos, even amongst the Dothraki, and one thing he read that all the cities in Essos had their own prophecy of The Prince who was Promised, even the Dothraki.
The stallion who mounts The World
Rhaegar quickly dismissed the ugly thought. He felt like slapping himself for thinking about the damn thing. It was all a Lie, Rhaegar thought, clenching his jaw.
The rest of the council went fast and smoothly; Rhaegar paid close attention to everything, and they would soon leave for Harrenhal. Rhaegar hoped he could find a suitable husband for his daughter.
Dany was still young but at the right age for betrothal, but Rhaegar mainly had left that part to his mother. She would know what to do, perhaps even better than me, Rhaegar thought with a little smile. As soon as the Council ended, Varys was the first to leave the room; he almost looked in a hurry, something Rhaegar noticed immediately.
Leaving the council, Rhaegar wanted nothing more than to spend time with Elia and his family, but he needed to talk with his mother first.
Reaching her chambers, Ser Barristan The Bold entered the chamber, letting his mother know that he wanted to see her. As soon as he heard a 'Come in' from the other side. He opened the door, stepped inside, he closed the door behind him, turning to see his mother.
She was writing something in a scroll as soon as the door clicked closed. Rhaella stopped writing her letter and putting it in a drawer.
"My son, is everything alright?" His muna asked softly; Rhaegar forced a little smile, he could tell she was still furious about something, and he wanted to get at the bottom of this.
"Everything is alright, Muna, but I want to know if you're alright?" Rhaegar questioned, stepping a little closer to her.
His mother looked down for a moment as if she felt ashamed. "Muna, you always told me I could tell you everything whenever I did something and was in trouble," his muna chuckled at his words, remembering something.
"I want you to know that you can tell me everything too," Rhaegar added softly, hoping his words would convince her to tell him what was wrong. She sat in silence, looking at her feet, sitting in the corner of her bed. She gestured for him to sit beside her.
Rhaegar walked up to her, hugging her close, and she kissed his forehead. "I'm fine, my son. I have bad dreams, The Tourney is coming, and it reminds me of the last time I was there when he was alive. I think I'm just feeling a little anxious," His mother spoke softly, her hand caressing his head and his silver locks. Rhaegar felt terrible knowing his mother still thought of that monster that he had called father for so many years.
"If you want, you can stay here. If you're not-" "No," His mother interrupted him before he could continue.
"I'm not going to hide, and I'm sorry if I have been acting a bit off and made everyone worry,"
Rhaegar kissed her cheek, hoping to make her feel better. "Don't worry, muna. We all have our moments of anger; even Elia has them," Rhaegar added with a teasing tone, earning a chuckle from his muna.
Everyone knew about Elia's outburst; Prince Oberyn always said that is her Dornish side coming out.
Rhaella, on the other hand, enjoyed the hug her son was giving her, but her mind couldn't help but go to the source of all her rage, sadness, and concern.
My grandson! You won't be alone anymore. Soon, you will be with us, and Lord and Lady Stark will pay with Fire and Blood.
Pulling away, Rhaella grabbed her son's hand. "How about we go outside? Rhaenys will ride with Dany. Let's see how they ride," Rhaella requested; Rhaegar smiled, relieved; his mother was already feeling better.
Jon
"Open The Gates!"
The sound of the gates opening reached his ears, his hands gripping the reins of his horse. Val was beside him, on her own horse, white like snow but with a red tail. Jon's horse was red with white, with black ears. Ghost was beside Val, his eyes scanning for any threats.
Jon was behind Lord Stark and Robb Stark, not that it bothered him much. A large carriage was prepared for Lady Stark, Sansa, Septa Mordane, and Jeyne Poole.
When Val saw the thing, she looked confused.
"What is that thing?" Val questioned; unlike the others, she and Jon were preparing their own horses when she saw the thing brought inside the courtyard. Seeing the horses were carrying it, she figured it must be something used to move stuff from the North to the castle Harrenhall.
"Is a carriage, Val," Jon answered, a smirk on his face, knowing how she would react.
"Ladies from the South enter inside. They prefer that it is comfortable, and they don't like the thought of riding horses," Jon explained, securing the saddle on the horse as he said.
Val's face changed to one of disgust before turning to face Jon. "So the "Ladies" of the South don't even know how to ride a horse. Do they pay someone to walk for them as well?" Val questioned, with a hand on her hips.
Jon laughed, giving her a quick kiss. "Some do," he whispered before stepping away. Val tilted her head to the side, looking confused and insulted.
"You said women in the North fight. Will we happen to meet any along the road?" Val questioned, checking the belt, making sure it was secured; she didn't want the saddle falling off. So far, she had seen Catelyn and her group of snowflake ladies, but none of them were fighters.
"I think so; House Mormont will be there. They train both boys and girls. I'm sure you will like them," Jon said. Val found herself smiling, wondering if she could make any friends with any of them.
Arya was almost jumping from her pony; after hours of discussion and Arya threatening to burn her dresses, Ned allowed her to ride her pony instead of being inside the carriage with the others. Arya had brightened up like the sun. Now, she was gripping her pony's reins, Needle strapped in her waist, looking like a warrior, Nymeria beside her pony.
The same was for Bran, who refused the carriage, the only boy in the carriage was Rickon, who was only three name days.
Ned had said goodbye to his brother before leaving, and their shared hug lasted long.
"Promise me, promise you will return to Winterfell," his brother whispered.
Taking a deep breath, "I love you, little brother. Goodbye," Ned reluctantly said, stepping away. Ned could see the unshed tears, but sooner or later. People face the consequences of their actions.
You can't do bad things and expect good things to happen, Ned thought, mounting his horse.
The Gates were open; Ned looked back at Winterfell, has this place always been so beautiful? Ned thought, taking a good long look at Winterfell. He wanted to remember it.
House Stark rode forward, and Jon felt his heart pounding in his throat. To The South, he thought.
To House Targaryen...
Why is Rhaella refusing the idea of a Dragon being alive? Does she have a Reason?
For those who have read the Teaser of Chapter 39, what happened in that teaser will still happen. It took longer to get there than I originally thought it would. Thank you for reading my Stories and Supporting Me.
Comments
TyrantGod
Will Val also participate?
Drinor
Read that one; too bad that it hasn't been updated since April 2020. Thank you for reading my Story.
Leorichs
You are getting us hyped with jon competing in jousts and melee. I really enjoyed the harenhall event in the rising son(not sure if you read that fanfiction) so i cant wait to see how jon fares in harenhall.
TyrantGod
Awesome story, can’t wait for next update
Drinor
Yes
TyrantGod
Will Jon fight in the melee and jousts?
Drinor
Jon and many others will be in the Tourney. I’m not certain in which chapter the confrontation happens, but I would say around Chapters 47 - 50.
TyrantGod
What chapter will the revelation & confrontation happen? Will Jon participate in the Tourney before that?
