It was raining the day Ned finally caught his first glance of Winterfell. Slowly but surely each detail of the imposing structure came into focus: the large towers, the main gate, the grey direwolf banners. 'Was it his imagination or were there more banners than usual decorating the stronghold?' Ned could just picture the scenes going on inside the castle at the moment. Everyone would be dropping what they were doing and hurrying into the courtyard to form a greeting line. They all knew that their new Lord would be at the gates with his bride and recently born heir. He guessed the courtyard would be filled to the brim with his people, leaving just enough room to accommodate their caravan.
He had guessed right. A large crowd of nobles and servants greeted him as he entered the courtyard. His eyes immediately found the solemn figure of his younger brother. Benjen Stark stood next to Maester Luwin, Rodrik Cassel, the Greatjon, Maege Mormont and Rickard Karstark. Ned wasn't used yet to being their liege Lord and it felt strange to see everyone deferring to him, depending on him to improve their lives. He nodded a greeting in several directions, recognizing most of those present, but spotting a few new faces as well, mostly among the servants and the houseguards. As he dismounted, a stable boy ran up, stammering "Welcome home, my Lord", before leading his horse to the stables. Ned released a deep breath and relaxed slightly. He was home.
As Ned approached the wheelhouse, the soft murmuring of the crowd stopped. He realised that everyone's attention had shifted to the two figures that were emerging from the carriage. The folk at Winterfell had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Although the Rebellion had ended several moons ago and life in the North had resumed, here at Winterfell everyone had still had been waiting for the young Lord and his family to return home. Not only had Lord Stark journeyed to the other end of Westeros to find his poor sister whose bones were now buried in the crypt, he had also been delayed for several sennights at Riverrun. Ned had stayed at his wife's ancestral home with his good family until his son, Robb, had been deemed strong enough to start the journey north.
Lady Catelyn accepted her husband's helping hand, looking forward to her formal introduction as Lady of Winterfell. She would make sure to start on the right foot, solidifying her position in the eyes of the Northern Lords and the members of her household. With her head held high, she caught the first glimpse of her new home and was not impressed. Though Winterfell was a large structure with several buildings and imposing towers, it lacked the sophistication of the buildings in the South. Everything looked robust, well kept, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was that she found wanting -- perhaps the absence of colour? Stark grey certainly was the dominant colour, the only exception being the wooden outer buildings that were a dreary dark brown. She fervently hoped the interior would be more to her liking.
Ned led her towards the assembled crowd who were all looking at her with awe and apprehension. 'As they should. I will be their Lady', she thought. 'They will have to follow my command.' Catelyn plastered a smile on her face, ready to greet everyone politely and show them the well-bred Lady of Winterfell. She would make sure to remember as many names as possible. She waited stiffly as Ned firmly hugged his younger brother Benjen.
Benjen Stark was the one to end the brotherly embrace. "Welcome home, brother. Winterfell is yours".
"Glad to be home!" Ned smiled, studying his brother intently. "All is well?"
"All is as well as can be," Benjen answered, his eyes conveying a lot more than those simple words. "We will talk later?"
"As soon as I can be excused from this welcoming committee, I'll send for you. I'm eager to talk as well", was Ned's hushed reply. He tried to get some clues from his brother's body language. He was keen to know the details of his brother's endeavours but knew his patience would be tested a bit longer.
Benjen turned towards Lady Catelyn and bowed. "Well met once again, good sister. You look beautiful as always. Let me be the first to welcome you to Winterfell and wish you a happy life here in the North."
Catelyn curtsied. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That is my wish as well." She exchanged a glance with Ned who gave her a quick reassuring smile.
Her husband gestured for the wet nurse to approach. Next, he took the baby from her arms and lifted him up in the air so all assembled could see the tiny face of his son, the rest of the baby's body was tightly wrapped in soft, white furs. "Good people of the North", his voice boomed over the courtyard, "Let me present to you my firstborn son, Robb Stark, the future Lord of Winterfell and heir to the North."
A loud cheer welled up from the crowd. Everyone was smiling and Catelyn felt a bit of warmth welling up in her chest for the first time since entering the courtyard. She had done this. She had gifted the North with a new generation. She would get these rugged, stern northern men to accept the southern bride of their Lord. She would show them she was worthy.
Ned touched her arm. "Let me introduce you to some of my most trusted bannermen, my Lady. "
Catelyn had some trouble taking her eyes of her son who was sleeping through all the noise and commotion. Ned had re-positioned Robb firmly against his body, his big arms creating a nest that shielded the small baby from the icy northern wind. He represented the perfect picture of a proud and caring father. With renewed confidence, she focussed her attention to her duties and followed her husband eager to meet the noble lords waiting patiently in the receiving line and put her formal education to good use. Her cheeks were stiff from smiling when introductions were finally over and Ned led her inside the keep.
Finally alone, Catelyn sat on the large bed in her new quarters. The handmaid had just finished her duties and had given her new Lady some welcome privacy. She took the opportunity to evaluate her first moments in her new home. The service as of yet had been impeccable. Several young girls had worked quietly and efficiently together. Her bath had quickly been filled, the temperature of the water just as she preferred it. When the water had cooled, Catelyn had denied the softly uttered suggestion of her handmaid to add more hot water. The girl had helped her step out of her bath and had willingly obeyed her every demand. Catelyn's first impression of the Stark household was positive. Winterfell seemed a well-organized community.
The temperature of the room had been a pleasant surprise. Ned has spoken true when he told her about the hot springs on which Winterfell was supposedly built and the pipes with warm water that were embedded in the walls of the large keep. At least it would not be cold inside. Although it was still summer, the last few days on the road she had needed to use the heavy cloak that Ned had put around her shoulders during their wedding ceremony. The large fur collar had seemed a bit much to her at the time but she had come to appreciate its usefulness. She made a mental note to have her handmaid alter most of her wardrobe as soon as possible.
As she had left the little antechamber that served as her bathroom, she noticed that the maids had almost finished unpacking her things. Her toiletries were displayed on a small cabinet adorned with a large mirror. A cosy looking chair stood before it. She ignored it in favour of the bed, the bed she would share with Ned tonight. Ned was a good husband, solemn, respectful, rather good looking in his Northern way but boring. They had been married for more than a year now. Still circumstances had prevented them from spending much time together.
Discovering how different he was from Brandon had been a big disappointment. Catelyn had liked Lord Brandon heir to House Stark the moment she saw him. She had been drawn to his larger than life personality, his handsome looks and on top of all that, he was the firstborn son of a high lord. Brandon had been the center of focus at every gathering. All the ladies had been mooning over him and had envied her when her betrothal became public knowledge. Brandon Stark had been a catch. Back then, she had barely noticed his two younger brothers. Even now, after several moons spent together, she could not say that she had gotten to know Ned. They were the parents of a little boy but the father of her child was still a stranger to her. 'Well, it is up to me to change that. I will make a life here. Family, Duty, Honour are the words of House Tully. I shall do my duty to my husband and our children.'
Ned entered his chambers shortly before supper would be served. He had barely enough time to freshen up and escort his wife to the Great Hall that would be filled to the brim. There would be no privacy, no real opportunity to put his wife at ease. His talk with Benjen would also have to wait a little longer. After showing his wife her new quarters, Ned had been intercepted by Maester Luwin. They had isolated themselves in the Lord's solar and had sifted through numerous scrolls that had not been forwarded to Riverrun. Maester Luwin had left the messages with special markings unopened and Ned had pocketed them so he could deal with them in private.
'Benjen has come through,' Ned thought. He had charged his brother to instruct the Maester how to decode the wax seals on the scrolls to know which ones the Maester was allowed to open and which ones were "eyes only" for the Warden of the North. In normal circumstances, Ned trusted Maester Luwin with all his affairs. However, he had wanted to convey the secret political developments to Maester Luwin in person. They would have to tread carefully. Everyone they told would be in danger. In the eyes of the realm, they would be branded traitors to the Crown. If the wrong person got wind of their actions, their lives would be forfeit. After the most pressing business had been handled, Maester Luwin had left the solar. They had agreed to reconvene the next day to tackle the remaining matters.
Upon entering his bedroom, Ned immediately took steps to secure the still unopened scrolls. He discarded the wolfskin rug next to his bed and lifted a large stone, revealing a hollow space, large enough to hide twice as many scrolls as he carried. It was the safest place he could think of that was also within easy reach. He did not have time to read them now. He planned to retrieve the scrolls after supper and read them over before his talk with his younger brother. Ned made sure the stone and rug were returned to their original position and dropped into the nearest chair for a moment. 'Thank the Gods. I'm finally back in my beloved Winterfell'.
'Winterfell is my home. Here I have a purpose, here I can make an impact and my people need me.' For the first time in years, Ned felt he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He knew he would be extremely busy the coming moons but was looking forward to it.
He would be putting things in his Kingdom to rights and make plans to prepare the North for the coming Winter. 'Aye, that is my birthright. It may still be summer now but I know winter is coming', Ned recited the Stark words to himself. 'Perhaps I will even have to prepare enough provisions to survive a war,' he sighed, 'I will need to make plans for more contingencies than ever before.' . Nevertheless, Ned relished the busy period ahead. 'Southerners can't grasp that. They are spoiled and have grown soft. My wife will have difficulty to adapt. I will need to help her.'
Ned knew from personal experience how different their environments and life experiences had been up until now. Life at Riverrun had not been easy for him. At home, he knew how everything was supposed to go. But in the South, there were all kinds of habits and niceties that were foreign to him. People talked but hardly said anything meaningful and when they finally did, they played around with their words in such a way that Ned was often uncertain of the speaker's loyalties.
He had felt adrift in a strange land instead of being relaxed surrounded by family. His new wife had her routines and had always been occupied, either with their newborn son or with some other matter that ladies attended to. He had tried to keep busy and had made an effort to get along with his good father and good brother but it did not come easy to him. It had all been a struggle and Ned had counted the days until he could be in his beloved North once more, surrounded by his loyal bannermen. the Lords of the North could be stubborn and difficult, but at least they spoke his language and didn't play stupid word games.
'His wife,' Ned contemplated his predicament. 'How do you get to know someone better when you hardly get to see her and you haven't got the faintest idea how she fills her days?' At Riverrun, her body had still been recuperating from childbirth and she had preferred to sleep alone in her rooms.
The only time they saw each other for a significant length of time was during the formal luncheons and dinners in the great hall with plenty of others present. He had insisted on her coming tho his chambers before they retired each night and at the very least wish each other a good night's rest.
'Another strange habit,', Ned had thought, 'one that I will change now we're home. I will make sure I visit her chambers. She will have nowhere to retreat to.'
Ever since their first rather clumsily bedding on their wedding night shortly before he had to leave for war, things were at a standstill. Ned hoped that since they were on his territory now, she would have to rely on him to learn her way around the keep and the household and they would be spending more time together. More importantly, at Winterfell he would be the Lord and she would have to obey him. No more adhering to the southern customs of her family. They were in his beloved North now. Here he knew how to act!
His heart felt lighter when he knocked on the door that separated the Lord's and Lady's chambers to escort his wife to the great hall for dinner. 'All shall be well. I will see to it.'
That evening, at the high table, Lady Catelyn sat formally next to her husband. Both were dressed up as befitted their station. A welcome home feast had been prepared in their honour and the great hall was filled with family, nobles and even several servants were present, be it seated at the lower tables.
For the first time, she saw her solemn husband relax and smile. He was glad to be home. Catelyn eyed the abundant display of food. The rich aroma's wafting her way reminded her how long ago her last meal had been. Her husband filled her plate with a healthy portion of some kind of stew. Catelyn accepted it from him with a shy smile. She immediately started eating, the food was as delicious as it smelled. She tried to eat slowly minding her manners, knowing full well that the northern lords and servants were eyeing her every move.
Ned noticed her getting a bit self-conscious. He leaned towards her and silently remarked, "Give them time. Let them get to know you. They will come to love their new Lady. But for now, they are just curious. That is to be expected. Allow them to study you. In no time they will be sharing their exaggerated tales with you", he paused studying the occupants of the room with one eyebrow raised before continuing, "which might be sooner than we think, by the looks of the amount of ale being consumed." Smiling broadly he handed her a piece of bread and continued his meal.
A few moments later he addressed her once more. "We will be inviting all the lords of the North to come to Winterfell in a few moon's time to celebrate the birth of the new heir of Winterfell. Best use this occasion to practice getting along with this lot. After all, practice makes perfect." He winked before lifting his spoon filled with the delicious stew to his mouth.
Perplexed Catelyn eyed her husband. It was not the impending task of organizing a feast for the northern lords that had her flabbergasted. No, it was the almost teasing tone of Ned's last few sentences. Did she hear correctly? Had her solemn husband tried to lighten the mood, maybe even flirt with her?
Catelyn was ready to retire. Ned had left her a while earlier, promising to meet up with her in her chambers. He had excused himself, stating he needed to catch up with his brother but had requested that she wait up for him. He had looked firmly at her but with a hint of pleading in his eyes. She had known her only option was to gracefully agree and had silently nodded her head.
The handmaid had left here alone once more. She was dressed in her night shift, her hair arranged into two proper braids, she was ready for the night. After saying her night prayers, she had installed herself on the bed and had pulled the heavy furs on top of her. She had tried to read the book she had brought with her from Riverrun but had not been able to read one single page. She was just about to give up when she heard a knock on a door she hadn't even noticed was there.
As Ned entered her chambers in large determent strides, Catelyn realised that that well-concealed door led to his quarters.
"Are you well?" Ned asked, "Do you have enough furs? Is the fire stoked high enough for you?"
Catelyn looked up. She was blushing like a maid. 'Ridiculous, I am a wife and a mother,' she admonished herself.
Ned shed the large grey robe he was wearing which left him in a white cotton shirt. She couldn't help but shiver as Ned moved to sit beside her on the bed. He grew visibly nervous because she had yet to utter a word.
"Are you all right?" he repeated his grey eyes intently gazing into hers. "Did you find all you needed?"
"Yes, of course, thank you," she replied after a moment, intimidated by his unwavering stare.
"I would very much like to bed you tonight," Ned came straight to the point, "Will you allow me?"
'Well, it was kind of him to ask …,' Catelyn saw a overspread his cheeks but there was also an iron determination in his eyes. This was another Ned than the formal husband she had lived with at Riverrun. This was not the considerate but distant travel companion on the road for these last few sennights. No, this was the Lord of Winterfell who had come to her bed. Although Ned was polite and respectful, for the first time Catelyn caught a glimpse of the powerful man, her husband was here in the North. This was a male strong and intelligent enough to protect her and their offspring.
Strangely this realisation did not scare her. It did quite the opposite: she felt her body respond with the same butterflies she used to feel during the few flirty sentences she had exchanged with Brandon Stark. She even felt desire stir between her legs. Now it was her turn to blush. She held his gaze as she answered bravely, "You're my husband, it is expected of us."
"I'll try to make it better for you," he promised, embracing her now that he had her consent. "I know the first time is difficult for a woman. And with the war looming over our heads -- well let's just say, I didn't -- I wasn't…"
Catelyn put her hand over his mouth, "Sssh", let us both try to do better". She closed the last bit of space between them and kissed him.
The next morning Catelyn woke up with a warm body lying beside her. Ned hadn't left. After he had worshipped her body in ways previously unknown to her, he had fallen asleep shortly after finishing inside her. He had just had enough presence of mind left to roll off her and spoon up behind her. She had had no choice but to try and fall asleep with a heavy arm around her waist, her legs sticky with his seed, most of it still deeply ensconced inside of her. Surprisingly, she had felt tired and strangely satisfied and before she knew it sleep had overtaken her as well.
Catelyn turned her head to study her husband. Ned was still asleep. He looked younger now. Seeing him like this, it was hard to believe he was the Warden of the North who had the power to decide the life and death of tens of thousands of subjects.
The first rays of morning light fell upon her husband's face and revealed a few small scars he had obtained during the war. Catelyn didn't know how to feel about him still being in her chambers, both still naked, his legs keeping one of hers pinned to the bed. This was new territory for her. Luckily Ned was like a hot furnace keeping the bed warm enough to ignore the chill in the room now the fire had almost gone out.
'Was this what married couples did?' She wasn't sure. The septa's hadn't prepared her for this myriad of feelings. Nobody had told her how her body could respond to his. She was only taught to obey her husband and do her duty, to give him heirs as well as daughters to make alliances.
But somehow his passion had stirred some unladylike responses. At first, she had tried to fight these unfamiliar feelings. While Ned was coupling with her, something strange had been building inside her and she had strained all her muscles to prevent herself from letting him see any wanton responses. Ned, however, had not let her keep still. He had urged her to relax, to let go, to allow herself feel. He had touched her everywhere with his hands. 'Oh when I think of how his fingers touched me down there, and Gods his mouth!'
He had told her that he loved the little noises she made and had reassured her that the walls of the keep were thick enough, that this was between the two of them. In here they could indulge themselves. They were married, this was no sin. This was sanctified by the Gods. And Catelyn had allowed herself be persuaded. If this was what married couples did, well, she would adhere to the Tully words 'Family, Duty, Honour'. Perhaps it wasn't such a daunting task after all to give the Warden of the North plenty of heirs. She shivered. It was awfully cold this morning. Catelyn nestled herself closer to her husband's warm body. Perhaps husbands and wives slept in the same bed for more than one reason in this dreary North. She let sleep overtake her once more.
The night before in the Lord's solar
Benjen sipped from his ale while his brother was scanning several scrolls. They had retired to this brother's solar and would finally be able to relate what they each had achieved these last few moons. Ned had given orders not to be disturbed. Benjen waited for his brother to start.
Ned put the messages he had been reading aside and focussed his intent stare on Benjen. "Tell me first, how is our nephew doing? Was the journey uneventful? Is the child safe and healthy?"
"Be calm, brother. He is fine. He is as safe as can be for the moment", Benjen reassured Ned, smiling broadly. "He is bonny, a real Stark. He is a little Lyanna reborn. He has the cutest dark hair that has started to curl adoringly. You would not think he had any Targaryen blood if you didn't know to look for it. His eyes are the Stark grey. It seems he only inherited his fine cheekbones and the form of his chin from his Targaryen ancestors. Ned, if you would put him next to Robb, people would say Jon was the Stark and Robb some scion from the Riverlands. No offence."
Ned shook his head and gestured for his brother to continue.
"He is an active baby, always alert, studying all that his baby eyes can discern. He tries to grab everything within reach and puts it in his mouth when you're not fast enough to prevent it." Benjen finished his passionate description of their little nephew. "Perhaps we should have chosen another solution? We could have brought him to Winterfell proclaiming him my trueborn son? I would not have minded a hasty marriage, even to his wet nurse, to be able to raise him as my own. He has already stolen my heart in just these few moons. Ned, could we perhaps change our plan?" Benjen took a deep breath and looked beseechingly at his big brother.
"And how would you explain the presence of his guards?" Ned retorted. "I told you how they would not give up their King, not even to his closest family. I feel for you Benjen, I do. Don't you think that I want him here, where we both can see him grow up and protect him ourselves? It was me who promised Lyanna to keep him safe. He is my blood too! But I had to compromise."
Ned moved closer to his brother and made a comforting gesture. "Benjen, please understand, Winterfell is the center of the North. A lot of people would get to meet him, and our three guards would not want him out of their sight. At the Driftmark, these knights can hopefully remain incognito. Here it would be a matter of days, perhaps even less before someone noticed them. No disguise can be complete enough to make these three unrecognizable. Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and last but not least Ser Arthur Dayne are some of the most prominent heroes of Westeros. All over the Seven Kingdoms, everyone is speculating what might have happened to them. Have you forgotten how easily Lord Varys can get wind of anything happening in the realm?"
Ned leaned back in his chair. "No Benjen, raising him in Winterfell is out of the question, no matter our wishes. The important thing is to keep Jon safe and to stick to the plan we all agreed on. Now tell me, please, how was the journey to the Driftmark? Has everyone settled in? What protective measures are being taken?" Ned urged.
Benjen realised Ned had a right to be impatient. He had hardly answered any of his brother's initial questions. He ordered his thoughts and started his report. "Ser Arthur used his connections in Dorne to secure a ship to take us to the Driftmark. You should have seen them: the three of them dressed like farmers, Lord Reed in his habitual green attire, Wylla, his nurse disguised as a Septa carrying a small babe. When I met up with them on that small island as per your instructions, I almost missed them. I was looking for three tall proud knights but instead, I found three modestly dressed farmers with slightly drooped shoulders trying to blend in, doing all they could to avoid undue attention. If it weren't for Howland Reed and their trunks, I would have missed them.
Benjen paused and sipped from his ale. "Let me tell you, Ned, your friend, Howland Reed, is a strange fellow. He seemed to know instinctively who could be trusted and who we needed to avoid. He was acquainted with the captain of the ship, who turned out to be some distant relation of his wife. His contacts at the Driftmark proved true as well. Jon has been adopted by the elderly Lord and Lady Celtigar, distant cousins to the ruling Lord Velaryon, Lord of the Driftmark."
"I must concur, Lord Reed's suggestion of the Driftmark was brilliant. Having seen it with my own eyes, I can testify that the Driftmark being a modest island in Blackwater Bay near Dragonstone is the perfect place to hide our True King. The inhabitants don't interact much with the mainland. And as Lord Reed promised us, they are all still extremely loyal to House Targaryen. They are proud of their heritage, originating from Old Valeria themselves. I had to listen to several long-winded tales of how their forefathers landed in Westeros long before the Targaryens ever glimpsed Dragonstone for the first time."
Benjen was on a roll now. "The elderly couple have welcomed Jon and Wylla into their home and are grateful for the extra company and help. Jon poses as their grandson, their son was killed on the Trident. The three knights take turns guarding him. They have taken up quarters in a small cottage near their King's new home. One of them stays in Jon's room."
"And the community does not think that strange?" Ned asked
"Ser Gerold told everyone who asked that the three of them were close friends of Jon's alleged father and that they fought side by side. As happens often during wartime, they had all allegedly sworn an oath to look after each other's family in case one of them did not survive the war. Jon's mother of course having died in childbirth, the three knights considered it their duty to unite the orphaned baby with his closest living relations. They completed their story by explaining that they do not have anywhere else to call home and have decided to settle at the Driftmark. They claim that they are content to lead a peaceful life and are helping out the community, doing small chores and more importantly their presence is providing the small village with protection against thieves and poachers. So far, nobody suspects anything. They are grateful for their presence. For now, little Jon is as safe as he can be in Westeros."
Ned relaxed a bit after Benjen's tale. "Well, let's hope for the best then. I'll pray to the Old Gods and ask them to help us protect him." He picked up one of the scrolls. "I have some news as well. Firstly, our contact has arrived in Fleabottom and states he is making progress. Secondly, a message arrived from Lannisport. Things there are going according to plan and the first steps have been taken. Soon it will be time to reconvene with our conspirators to discuss further strategies."
Ned rose stiffly. "Let's call it a night. We'll have plenty of opportunities to talk more during the next few days. I reckon you do not have to leave before another sennight?"
Benjen nodded and smirked. "Off to bed or off to the wife?"
Remaining silent, Ned answered with a weak smile. Tucking the scrolls in his pocket, he left the solar to join his wife in her bedroom.
Interlude1: Dorne
Some moons after the events of the previous chapter:
Oberyn Martell was abruptly distrurbed from his slumber by a servant. "My Prince, you are requested to appear before Prince Doran. And make haste, the Prince stressed the urgency of his summons. Please my Prince, hurry or I will be punished."
Oberyn's eyebrows rose. This was unprecedented. His brother never threatened the younger servants over something this trivial. His siesta was over it seemed. He quickly disentangled his limbs from Ellaria's and, made himself presentable. With one last look at his sleeping paramour, he left the room to find his elder brother.
He heard excited voices coming from the great hall. It seemed he was not the only one summoned. However, of all the things he could have imagined to encounter when he entered the room, the sight that greeted him was as unexpected as it was welcome.
With a wide grin on his face, he looked over to his brother. Prince Doran sat in his usual chair and greeted him with troubled eyes. Oberyn could not fathom why. 'Was this not a reason to celebrate?' He couldn't imagine a better surprise. 'Oh, the things I will be able to do and say now. How best to take revenge, in what manner …'
His thoughts halted when Prince Doran abruptly rose from his chair and gestured Oberyn to follow him out of the hall. Bemused Oberyn obeyed him, his eyes reluctantly leaving the sight of a bruised and battered, heavily chained Ser Gregor Clegane who was sitting in the middle of the room inside a large wooden crate only visible because two sides of the crate had been lowered to the ground.
Safely secluded in Doran's private quarters, Oberyn tried to remain patient and waited for his brother to start the conversation. Doran looked deeply troubled. When the silence persisted, Oberyn tried for the obvious. "Isn't this a good development, Brother? Who captured him?"
Prince Doran seemed to be looking for words. He opened his mouth, closed it again, repeated this one more time and finally seemed to come to a decision. He slowly removed a scroll from his sleeve and handed it to his brother. "Read it", he ordered.
Oberyn's curiosity grew. He accepted the scroll and started to read.
Prince Doran,
Please, accept our gift. The content of the crate is yours to dispose of as you please. We only entreat you to inflict no harm upon the delivery team. We rely upon your honour.
It is our pleasure to help bring justice to your kin. No longer worry about the other culprit. He won't be heard of again. Maybe one day you would be willing to return the favour?
Until then,
Kin of your kin
"What can be the meaning of this? The other culprit? Have you heard anything about the Lannister devil lately? Surely they allude to him. Who do you think sent this message? What will they ask of us in return? Isn't this good news though? This is surely sent by allies of ours, don't you agree? Who could it be: 'Kin of our kin'? How were the scroll and the crate even delivered here? What do you know of this? Can I be the one to end his miserable life?" Oberyn fired these questions at his brother. Although the message confused him, overall the content was exhilarating!
Doran sighed. "I don't know. I don't know and that is what troubles me. But yes, you can be the one to carry out justice in whatever way that pleases you. However, we will need to strategise. We need to make sense of this. We need to contact all our spies in the Seven Kingdoms. I will even send word out overseas. We need to get to the bottom of this and fast. I want answers." Doran looked troubled.
Oberyn however could not be deterred. "Brother, how was the crate delivered? Did the scroll arrive with it or was it sent by raven? What haven't you told me?"
Doran looked up to his brother "Stop pacing in front of me. My nerves are on edge enough as it is without you aggravating matters. Sit down and I'll tell you all I know, little that it is."
Oberyn obeyed without hesitation he quickly seated himself opposite his brother. He folded his hands in his lap and encouraged Doran to tell it all. "Let's hear it brother", he urged in a low tone.
"The crate was delivered by a Northern vessel belonging to House Manderly. They sailed here directly from Kings Landing. They were commissioned to bring the crate into my hands personally. Their client, so the delivery team stated, had paid double the required fee for their discretion and had given no name. They were told we would be expecting it and would be grateful for its safe delivery. They also explained how they had gone to great trouble to deliver the subject alive and in a relatively clean state having received detailed instructions describing how to feed and take care of the cargo. They were glad to finally be rid of the responsibility. They even asked me to sign a document stating that I had received the cargo intact. Further interrogation wasn't possible since I had decided to adhere to the request in the scroll I had received a moon ago. I felt honour bound to grant them safe passage back to their vessel."
"Any idea who," Oberyn started to ask but Doran held up his hand.
"The scroll was delivered by raven, one hailing from the Wall. I guess that the sender is the long-forgotten Targaryen, Maester Aemon who still serves at Castle Black. At least I presume that he is still alive, though he must have celebrated his ninetieth name day years ago."
Oberyn startled "Targaryen? Targaryen! At the wall? Are you sure?"
"No, I am not sure!" Doran shouted, very agitated. "That's the problem. The people of the Night's Watch are forbidden to interfere with the politics of the Seven Kingdoms. They must remain neutral. I do not know what to think. That's what bothers me. Ever since the content of the package was revealed, I have been trying to figure this out. I have been racking my brain searching for the safest way to obtain more information. What do they want from us? How should we go forward without betraying our purpose?"
"We need to be smart about this, Oberyn. For once I want you to think before you act. Help me figure this out. Be my eyes and ears outside of Dorne. I was thinking about the possibility of sending you on a tour throughout the Kingdoms so you can discreetly gather information about the current political situation."
Oberyn stared at him deep in thought.
Doran continued, "Find out whether something happened to Lord Tywin Lannister. See how the Baratheon King is doing. Try to ferret out how much support he has? Have the Lannisters been weakened? See if you can find a trace of any enemies to the crown who would want to destroy the Baratheon-Lannister alliance. Sniff out possible conspiracies against the throne if possible. The sending of this package is not an act of charity. Someone is reaching out to us, someone who is not sympathetic to the current dynasty. "
Oberyn was making a move to interrupt but Doran lifted his hand to stop him.
"Of course you may take all the time you need to dispose of our precious gift any way you like first. That goes without saying. We will discuss our next steps at length afterwards. I feel that whatever has been set in motion will take some time to build before any action can be taken openly, whatever whoever may intend. This is a dangerous game. If you take into account the careful wording of the message and the anonymous delivery of the package, you can not help but notice that the people behind this are very cautious. Please leave me to my solitude now. I need to calm down and think on this some more."
Doran closed his eyes and slumped in his chair. He felt drained of all energy. 'No good can come of this,' he thought. 'Why can't they leave us in peace?'
Oberyn on the other hand left the room with a spring in his step, his mind swirling with possibilities. 'First things first,' A smug smile appeared on his face. 'Time to fetch Ellaria from her bed, the sand snakes can come too. They will want to have their share of the fun.'